Hopeful for the weekend!!

Had a lovely night with J on Tuesday. He'd been working late and had told me on the phone when he called that he was shattered and not in the best of moods. But he cheered up immediately when he walked in and saw my new hair and then especially when I whispered that "I've had a new waxing as well".

My daughter asked over dinner if she could go away on Friday evening for the weekend to friends, which after the usual questions and warnings about behaviour and being careful, we agreed to. After she went upstairs I asked J if he really had to work at the weekend as we could have some "quality time alone". But he reluctantly said he just couldn't get out of it. (He has a big contract). He joked that perhaps I should ask R for a "home visit massage". I replied "I may invite S over instead!" That really got him going . . .

Yesterday I spoke to S and he said he had golf booked for the afternoon on Saturday, but would gladly cancel "if you insist".

I insisted . . . !!!

Part Two . . . it Never Rains, but it Pours

S called on my way into work on Thursday morning . . . we almost always chat the morning after an “evening” together as I travel into the office on the bus. I’d reassured him that I really had enjoyed our time together and we agreed to try and arrange another night within the next fortnight. We’d just said our goodbyes and I’d slipped my phone back into my handbag when it rang again. It was V . . . he was back in town, just for two days, and wanted to meet-up that evening “to make up for cancelling last time”.

I told him I hadn’t expected him to be back in London for another month and couldn’t just drop everything at such short notice. I was annoyed at him, and annoyed at myself at the same time, because I knew I wanted to see him. I told him I’d think about it and he should call me again at the office after lunch.

I was tingling for the rest of my journey . . . knowing that J was looking forward to “an early night” after my evening with S the night before. (We always have wonderfully passionate times in the days immediately following one of my evenings). I’d already changed my mind several times over by the time I got to the office. I was annoyed that V thought he could just call on such short notice, annoyed because I hadn’t dressed in anything other than my normal work outfit, annoyed because I knew J would be upset, (even if he said he wouldn’t be), annoyed because . . . well . . . annoyed because I knew I wanted it, wanted to see him, annoyed because it may be the only opportunity for another few months.

He called mid-morning. Would I like to do lunch instead? “No, I don’t want lunch”, I told him. “What do you want then?” he asked . . . I paused and then angrily repeated into the phone, “I just don’t want lunch!”. I hated feeling myself giving in, I didn’t want him to think he could just call me up on a whim, whenever he wanted it, not caring to give me a few days warning. There was a long, long pause, and then a nervous laugh . . . His apartment was still being used. I seized the moment of having the upper hand “well, you’ll have to book me a room then, won’t you, if you really want to see me!” He said he’d call back in a few minutes.

And he did . . . and, as always, never doing anything in short measure . . . it was a very exclusive, very expensive hotel. I told him I hadn’t even asked J if it was alright yet. “Where shall we have dinner?” he said. “I don’t want dinner” I nervously hissed back. “Don’t you want to see me?” he asked. “Yes . . . Yes, I do” I found myself answering.

J’s voice betrayed his initial annoyance when I called him. He quickly changed his tone though and said “twice in two nights, go for it.” I told him I wouldn’t go if he really didn’t want me to, but he said that of course he wanted me to go, “just text when you’re on your way home” he said.

V insisted on picking me up from the office in a cab. He got out to open the door for me, kissed me warmly and sat next to me squeezing my hand as he leant forward to give the driver the address. I felt excited to be sitting there knowing the cabbie could probably hear our conversation as V asked me if I was sure I didn’t want to eat first. “We can order room service”, I answered.

The room was wonderful . . . and the bathroom just lovely. I told him I would like to run a bath and just soak. He joined me, as I undressed, and started reading from the room service menu. I told him I really wasn’t hungry and actually much preferred wine to champagne, but it seemed silly not to indulge just a little in such an expensive hotel. V remained clothed, waiting for our “snacks” to arrive, but sat on the edge of the bath as I lounged and he started telling me how his new venture in the City was going (the reason that his apartment was occupied and probably would remain so for the forseeable future).

The trolley arrived and V brought in two lovely large stem glasses. I told him he should undress and get in with me as there was certainly enough room. (I remembered with a tingle, the much, much more compact shower I’d shared with S the previous night!). V returned from the main room, now completely naked, with a tray of au dourves. He really has a nice figure for his age and I was envious of his flat tummy as he sat back down on the edge of the bath and started to feed me from the platter. I told him I felt completely decadent and spoiled, lounging in a heavily scented bubble bath, sipping champagne and being fed by “a naked waiter”. “Have you forgiven me then?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he meant forgiven for cancelling our last planned meeting at such short notice . . . or forgiven him for arranging this meeting at such short notice. “No, not yet!” I teased. “Can you turn round and face me please, I don’t like talking to your back and shoulder”. He lifted his legs round into the bath, putting his glass down on the corner and leant forward again to feed me another mouthful from the platter. I liked looking at the plumpness of his willy sitting on top of his sacs, and I remembered how I’d once described it to J as being “like a big slug when it’s limp”. I tingled at the memory of how much he’d enjoyed my descriptions of the rest of V’s body. I was getting quite carried away . . . the champagne, the warmth of the bubbles, the situation I was in, and the fact that his “slug” was growing and beginning to lift upwards.

I pushed the tray away and told him to “come in with me”. He slid in with his legs either side of mine and then we both slid ourselves forwards, lifting our knees up so we could kiss. We fed each other sips from each others glass and laughed as our kisses became swapping spurts of champagne, and my glass quickly seemed to empty. “I’ll forgive you if you get up to get me some more!” I told him. He looked lovely as he returned with the bottle, water and soap bubbles dripping off him onto the marble floor. . . and his willy, much firmer now, bobbing and swaying as he got back into the bath. He told me how much he’d missed my company, and my language, and how our Sunday afternoon and trip to the airport at our last meeting had been the “most exciting few hours of my life”. I told him I was sure he was exaggerating . . . but I loved hearing it all the same and I could feel myself feeling more and more aroused.

“I want to get out now” I said, and stood up in front of him. He continued sitting for a moment, leaning back and telling me “what a wonderful view” . . . he stood up as well, kissing my tummy and each breast and then my neck and cheek. We squeezed together in an engulfing embrace and I could feel his erection sliding over my tummy. We got out and dried each other with the wonderfully fresh huge white towels hanging on the rack. I deliberately lingered with the drying of his willy . . . and then dropped down in front of him to slide my mouth over him. I could hear him gasping as I sucked up and down and then up again, letting it pop out of my mouth and then licking down its length with my tongue before sliding my mouth down completely over him again. It felt thick and warm in my mouth, and I knelt down more on the mat now so that I could reach up and gently cup his sacs in my hands. He doesn’t like me squeezing them, but even when he’s erect they always seem quite heavy and I love the feeling of holding them at the same time. He had a hand on each of my shoulders and was just standing whilst I rocked back and forth with my mouth. I ran my hands round behind him now, stroking up his legs and then holding his bottom, pulling him forward to meet the rhythm of my sucking. He pulled away though and leant down to lift me up. “Lets try the bedroom” he said.

It was wonderfully comfortable as he lay me backwards onto the bed and then gently pushed my legs apart and knelt between me. “Now it is your turn” he said, and started leaning forward to lick at me. “God you taste so sweet” he told me. I remembered S telling me the same thing the night before and it made me tingle even more. He lifted up to slide up my tummy to start on my nipples. They felt like they were going to burst. “Suck them harder” I whispered. I felt his willy bump against my lips and scrape over me as he lifted further up to start on my other nipple. I reached down between our tummies to try to push it back down towards my pussy. He lifted up off the bed slightly so that I could hold it and then guide it in. I slid my other hand down between us, opening my lips more. My clit felt as hard as my nipples. I was gasping and loving it as he continued sucking and I felt him pushing into me. “Fuck me” I told him. His pushes began to get more rhythmic, but he still seemed more interested in my nipples. I could hear myself moaning and urging him “more”.

As he lifted up onto his elbows, I reached down to slide him out and then turned over onto my knees. I didn’t say anything, but I was feeling really aroused and as he pushed forward I felt myself pushing my pussy straight back over him. He had his hands on my hips at first as he started stroking back and forth, but I reached back to pull his right hand up under my tummy back to my breast. “Squeeze” I was gasping to him. I re-balanced myself and then reached back with my left hand to guide his other hand away from my tummy and down to my lips instead. I could hear my moaning getting louder, “clitty, clitty” as his fingers rubbed round and round my lips and his other hand was squeezing from one nipple to the other. I came with huge gasps, falling forward onto my tummy and pushing his hand away from underneath me as I pulled my knees up in my foetal position as I rocked myself still. I could hear his breathing quite loud and opened my eyes to see him kneeling next to me holding his erection and his stomach muscles straining in time with his deep breaths. I pulled my hand from under my knees and reached out to stroke him. He leant back slightly with his hands on his hips. “Come on” I urged him as I stroked more quickly. At first I thought my stroking was going to be in vain, but then I could see his knees flexing and his tummy tightening and he burst with almost whispered gasps (in contrast to my much louder groaning minutes earlier). It splashed over my hips and legs, and down onto the sheets. Lots and lots of it. I still wanted just to lie still, continuing my recovery, but he got up immediately to find a towel and wipe my legs and then the bed. I was giggling at his concern, “I’m sure even here they’re used to stains on the bed linen”. “Especially here” he agreed.

He returned to the bed with more nibbles, and more champagne. I told him it was quite bizarre having a picnic on the bed sheets in such an exclusive hotel. We chatted about business and my problems at the office. He offered advice and suggestions and lots more questions than I had answers for. The champagne was soon finished and he said he’d call up for more, but I told him I couldn’t drink any more champagne. “Wine then” he said. I found myself agreeing . . . and feeling naughty and decadent again as I lounged back on the bed and watched him searching for a robe as he started to unpack his suitcase and hang things up in the wardrobe. I’ve never seen anyone so unconcerned about being naked. If it had been me, or J, and certainly S, I knew we’d all at least have wrapped a towel around ourselves. It was lovely.

“You know I can’t stay.” I told him. I knew he was staying overnight, but suddenly thought he was assuming I could as well. He nodded. Then pulled on a robe to answer the door.

We sat together in bed, talking more and playing with kissing each other with wine kisses. He kept trying to play with my breasts again, but I had to push his fingers away telling him they were too sensitive now. But he eventually caught me off guard and leant forward to slurp a mouthful of wine onto my nipple. The sensation was gasping and I just lay backwards and let him repeat the dribbling onto my other breast. He worked from breast to breast and the tingling was making me suddenly really really aroused again, they felt bursting hard but were still sensitive. I lifted up and slid up over onto his chest. I loved the look on his face as I slid myself forwards on him, lifting my pussy up over his chin and dropping it down onto his mouth. I was lifting up to make his tongue follow me upwards and then rotating my hips back slightly to trail his tongue around between my cheeks. “God you are smooth everywhere” he gasped out as I swivelled back and forth. “Mmm, I really like that” I told him. Finally he was letting me direct his tongue to my bottom. I swivelled it back to my lips again and then back to my bottom. He’d always pulled away from there before, now he was keeping his tongue there. Hard and pushing. I could actually feel it inside as I pushed down on it, then lifted up and round to my lips again. “Oh, not just my clitty” I told him as I felt his tongue flicking faster and settling there. I didn’t want it just there, I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to stop now that he’d started. I swivelled back, his tongue followed and pushed again. “Fucking love that” I groaned and pushed down on him. He was mumbling and pulled away, I swivelled forwards again hoping my gasps wouldn’t show my disappointment. “Do you really like it there?” he said. “Sometimes” I replied. “Do you do it there?” he asked. “Sometimes” I gasped back. Swivelling backwards again. His tongue followed . . . and stayed. I pushed against it, felt it in again. I was swooning, thinking that I couldn’t possibly take his cock there, he was too thick, even with gel, I wouldn’t be able to.

This time I came with a long shuddering groan, knowing I was swearing and gasping as I rubbed, quite violently, all of me over his face and chin. I fell forward off him and rolled onto the pillow. Gasping and swearing more as he held me by my ankles. He pulled me away from the headboard, I was still shaking and shuddering. “Does it always make you like that?” his question was almost one of concern rather than curiousity. I couldn’t tell him it had been more from the thoughts I’d been having, rather than the physical proximity of his tongue and his licking. I just managed to gasp out another “Sometimes” answer before I buried my face into the pillow. It was nice to feel him sliding up besides me and cuddling his arm across my back.

We lay without speaking for sometime until I suddenly felt an aching cramp in my leg. I was writhing and trying to stretch out my leg. “Cramp, can you massage it” I was swinging the leg around, trying to straighten it and ease the pain. He sat up and started working on it. Immediately I felt it working and the soothing feeling of the muscles not pulling in all the wrong directions. I looked down at him massaging my calf and could see his erection dangling wonderfully on an angle as he knelt beside me. “It’s ok now, it’s gone, it’s fine” I said as I slid down the bed, grasping his willy and rolling him over onto his back. He was asking “Are you sure”. I had to nod my assurances . . . I was already sucking down on him. The angle was just right. I could lift my mouth up and curl my fingers around him pushing down again with my mouth and look down past my knuckles at his sacs bulging as I pushed his cock down onto them. He quickly relaxed and let me snuggle more against his side and continue my stroking and sucking. I could hear his breathing getting quicker as I increased the pace, and then little gasps as I slowed, teasing him by lifting away slightly, grasping him with both hands and licking around and around his head with my tongue. Then sucking over him again, my mouth pushing first one hand, then the other, away as I sucked hard down onto him. His hips began bucking, slowly at first, then pumping up against my hand faster and stronger. I lifted my mouth away, resting my cheek on his tummy and stroking with both hands wrapped around him. The spurts shot out in little bursts at first and then as his thrusts upwards with his hips slowed, turned to a dribble of white running out and down over my fingers. I released my grip and leant forwards to kiss his balls and then sat up and rubbed my hand over him, rubbing it over his sacs and then up to rub it over my nipples. He looked at me grinning and shaking his head. I laughed and told him “I love it on my boobies, it’s good moistening cream”.

We stretched out alongside each other again. “I’ll have to be going home soon” I told him. He nodded, but then started asking me about my “admission”. I didn’t know what he meant at first, but then told him off that “it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, lots of people do it!” I told him I couldn’t believe he’d never done it. But he was insistent that he’d never tried, or never had a woman saying they wanted it. He wanted to know more than I wanted to tell him, becoming frustrated with my answers of just “sometimes”. It was past midnight, well past midnight. I’d long since turned my phone alarm off. I insisted he really had to let me get up and get dressed and that I had to get home. “Perhaps we can talk about it more next time!”.

V arranged for a taxi and then got dressed as well and accompanied me down to the foyer when it arrived. I felt quite naughty again kissing him goodbye as he opened the door to the taxi. I texted J as we drove round Hyde Park Corner. “Hope you’re waiting up for me”. His reply came through almost immediately, “with wine and ???”. It made me giggle and I texted back “Twice in two nights. Do you mind me being so naughty?”

It Never Rains, but it Pours . . . Part One

S and I hadn’t seen each other for over a month . . . since our “sleepover” . . . so I was really looking forward to meeting with him on Wednesday evening. Even more so as it has been a simply horrible few weeks at the office (so much so that I am beginning to regret turning down the chance of a change of job I was offered before Christmas).

After weeks of miserable weather it had been a bright and sunny day and I felt wonderful in the cab as I travelled to our restaurant in Hampstead. S was already waiting for me and it was really nice to be greeted with his embrace and a warm lingering kiss. We spent an enjoyable meal catching-up on everything that had happened since Christmas and then walked arm-in-arm up the hill to where he’d parked his car. We sat for several minutes in the dark, kissing and fondling with increasing passion as we both agreed it had been “too long”.

Our kisses continued once we arrived at the hotel . . . even more passionately as we shared the excitement of realising we’d spent time in this same room on one of our earliest visits to “our hotel”. We undressed each other in-between our fondles and caresses, with S trying to convince me we didn’t need to shower . . . but I had to insist that I wouldn’t feel comfortable without “washing all my bits first!”

The bath was too small for us both to stand comfortably underneath the shower together . . . as I finished I wrapped myself in the towel he handed me and sat on the toilet seat, reaching forward to soap “him” each time he turned-round under the water. We laughed and cuddled each other across the room to the bed and rolled back and forwards on each other as we resumed our kissing and stroking.

I felt wonderful as I stretched out my legs and lay back whilst he ran his tongue all around my breasts and down my tummy. I opened my legs wider as he slid down between them, gasping as he lifted up to say I was “really, really wet” before he leant forward again to flick his tongue up and down over me. After just a few minutes of him licking and then sliding his fingers around and into me I felt I would come too quickly so asked him to “come up and kiss me, I want to taste myself on your tongue”. It felt wonderfully warm as I sucked his tongue into my mouth. I felt him adjusting his position, lifting one leg over my chest and then sitting up on me as he leant forward kissing me more. He was sitting on my tummy now and was kissing me much more passionately than I would normally allow him to. I pulled my face away and looked down between our chests . . . “that look’s lovely” I told him and reached up to stroke his erection and then pull it downwards onto one of my nipples. It felt nice scraping the ridge of him over first one and then the other as I twisted slightly from side to side, pulling his willy onto me with the palm of my hand behind its head and sliding him across me from right to left and then back again. He was whispering how nice it felt and then suddenly started straining forwards on me pushing himself in hard strokes with his hips thrusting up and down. Quite quickly his thrusts became faster and faster and I knew he was going to come. His moans were getting louder and his pushing harder and his cock pushed forwards almost to my chin, and then pulled away, and then thrust forward again. I first saw a clear little glisten of moisture in the eye of his head and then . . . with the next gasp and thrust forwards . . . a white, bursting blob and then a flash and splashing feeling as it shot forwards. I felt it on my cheek and then again and further this time onto my neck and ear with the next pulling back and thrusting forwards. He was gasping out an apology at the same time as thrusting back and forwards again as I held onto his back and tried to pull him further down on my tummy. Normally S doesn’t come as quickly, or as loudly, so I knew he had really needed the release. I could feel it dribbling off my chin and neck as I lifted up to kiss him and then roll him over onto his back. He was still moaning his apologies . . . I lifted myself up onto his tummy, squelching myself over him, rubbing it into the both of us. I held my finger over his mouth and told him to “shsssh” and “I love seeing you let go like that”. We rolled into an embrace on our sides and I told him to pull the blankets over us as I snuggled into his shoulder and kissed his neck and stroked his arm.

I woke up with him shaking me . . . “your phone’s ringing!”. It was my alarm going-off . . . we’d slept for almost two hours . . . I struggled out of the bed to my bag, cursing as I realised how late it was. “Why don’t we stay over again?” he asked as I sat back down on the side of the bed. I reminded him how lucky we’d been to have that night together and that I was sure we would be able to have another “sleepover” some time, but “I just can’t tonight”.

J was waiting up in his usual place on the sofa. He was disappointed that I hadn’t come home naked under my coat, until I teased him with . . . “well S certainly enjoyed undressing me” . . . and then stepping away from him, “I’d like a glass of wine first please . . . and then one of my wands” . . .

Just got back from . . .

. . . a Saturday morning run with friends. The first with all of us together since Christmas. It was really nice to chat and catch-up with all the gossip and news . . . stopped for coffee in the park . . . lovely, and just in time obviously as I’ve just got in and it’s started snowing !!!

I’m just running a bath and going to soak ALL afternoon. J is taking my daughter and myself out this evening for dinner and a movie . . . and I’m really looking forward to the weekend away from any thoughts of work!!

It’s been just a horrible two weeks at the office working on a new big project . . . lots of long days and late nights home.

But I just wanted to say “thank you” for all the messages and worried questions about my lack of posts. I’m fine, just had no time, or energy, for anything other than what has been going on in the office. S wants to meet for an evening next week, but we haven’t arranged anything yet . . .

There are lots and lots of messages in my in-box to go through . . . I promise I will try and reply to all that I can . . . but please don’t forget that many of the questions you are asking are answered on my Frequently Asked Questions page: http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithspics/edithsaffairsfaqs.html

I’m off to my bubbles and (an early) glass of wine !!

Best wishes - Edith

Disappointment from V . . .

Since our lunch the previous week, I’d been really looking forward to meeting with V again on Tuesday, especially as our two meetings before Christmas had been so wonderful and fulfilling. But . . .

I’d had a waxing on Monday after work, and had brought in a complete change of clothes into the office the next morning. The day was already dragging by when just after 11 my secretary called through to say he was on the line. I could tell immediately from his voice that he was going to cancel . . . and sure enough, “something has come up that I just can’t change”.

I can’t go into his explanations here, but anyway, our evening was not to be . . .

A hugely disappointing start to the week . . . and what makes it even more disappointing is that he now won’t be back in London for at least another month!!

Sunday Afternoon Rendezvous . . .

For everyone who has asked . . .

Yes I did !!! J had got me so worked-up by telling me how naughty it would be, and how it would the last opportunity to see V this year, and how much he knew that I wanted to do it.

And he was right . . . the more he talked about it on Saturday afternoon and evening (and what an evening!!) the more I thought about it, and the more excited I became.

And when my son announced he would be going out again catching-up with his friends, I felt a huge, releasing rush of excitement. The guilt had been released . . . our son didn’t want to be stuck at home eating Sunday dinner with his family anyway. I texted V to ask him to text back when he’d landed, and that I’d “pop-over the river for an hour or so”.

I found myself checking my phone every ten minutes for the next hour and a half. I couldn’t remember what time V had said he was flying in, I’d thought he’d said “early”. My tingles of excitement were beginning to wane, as it remained silent, and I said to J that perhaps he’d already made other arrangements after I’d told him on Friday that Sunday was a “family day” and that I couldn’t possibly get away . . .

Then, just after 11, the text arrived. “Just here. Great news. Let yourself in. Wine in cooler.”

J was as excited as I was and stood by the door as I showered trying to whisper “suggestions” over the sound of the water. I let him dry me with the towel when I got out, asking him to reassure me that it really was alright, and loving his excited kisses and touches . . . and feeling his obvious excitement as well, through his jeans.

I was rushing through my make-up, asking J to book a cab as it would take 45 minutes to get there. He kissed my shoulders and said he’d drive me there himself. I felt myself blushing with excitement as I looked up at him and then I stood up and turned to kiss him . . . we stood embracing for several minutes, telling each other how much we loved each other and loved our life. It really was a wonderful moment, and difficult to describe in these words . . . and it still makes me feel so wonderful again as I describe it here . . . it was a tingling sexual moment, and yet it wasn’t just about the sexual tinglings. I felt (and feel again now), warm and wet, and just so happy and naughty and excited and . . . just so free . . . all rolled together. We kept kissing, me telling him how lucky I was, him telling me how lucky he was . . . it really was a special, special moment. One that I know I will remember long after I have forgotten so many of the “other things” we have experienced in all our years together. It may not sound that special, that extraordinary, here . . . but it was !!!

I chose my white silk stockings, suspenders and bra set (I decided I didn’t need the knickers) and silver earrings and necklace that S had brought me during the year, grey shoes and my grey wool coat. I folded the matching woollen dress into my bag . . . “for the journey home” I told J.

He told me I looked “incredible” and asked if I would unbutton the coat as we drove. I turned the heater up in the car as it was freezing as we set-off, but told him I would only unbutton it, and not slide it off my shoulders as he wanted me to, as we were driving through the city in broad daylight. I had to playfully keep pushing his hands away at each traffic light at first, and tell him to behave himself and concentrate on his driving.

We kissed again for several minutes in the car once we’d arrived, and as I stepped out into the cold and turned to wave goodbye through the windscreen, I felt just so wonderfully naughty . . . my husband had just dropped me off, in broad daylight, on a Sunday afternoon, at my lovers door. I was tingling as I stepped across the cobblestones, simply tingling !!!

I could tell from the music playing as I let myself in, that V had already arrived. He was sitting on the sofa in his robe and welcomed me with “that was good timing, I’ve just poured you a glass”. I laughed that it was the second time in as many weeks that he’d met me dressed only in his robe. He stood to kiss me and said, “I didn’t want to waste valuable time”. He offered me my glass, but I replied “wouldn’t you like to take my coat first?” His reaction as I took it off and handed it to him, made me even more tingly and excited. “You travelled all the way here like that?” he gasped. “You are incredible”.
I giggled “No J brought me silly”.
He gasped even louder. “Why didn’t you ask him to stay?”.
“What and wait downstairs in the car?” I teased.
“You could have invited him up to join us” he replied, half jokingly, but I could tell, half serious as well.
“No I’m not like that, I’m not into threesomes”, I told him as I accepted the wine and kissed him on the cheek.
He was kissing me back and running his hands down my back, saying. “I can’t believe there’s anything you wouldn’t do”.

We fell together onto the sofa, his kisses becoming more passionate as I pushed his robe off over his shoulders. He was reaching around behind me trying to undo my bra strap, but I pointed out it actually unclipped from the front . . . it felt simply lovely as the cups flicked open!!! He was moaning and murmuring as he sucked from nipple to nipple. “In English” I said back to him . . . the words sounded wonderful, but I couldn’t understand everything he was whispering to me.

He’d shaken his arms free of his robe and I was able to reach down between us and stroke him as he continued squeezing and sucking at me. “They’re standing up like bullets” he was saying as he sucked on my nipples. I squeezed his erection harder and tried to slide my other hand between us to feel under his sacs. I’d never felt so aroused, and so naughty, in any of my other times with him. He was already sliding the fingers of his free hand in between my legs and as I lifted them open wider his hand went right round under my bottom and then back to my pussy again. I squeezed my legs tightly onto his hand and pulled his head into my breasts, locking my arms around his back. I’d been there ten minutes and was coming already! V obviously hadn’t realised the effect his touches had had on me. He slid off the sofa and knelt down on the floor in front of me lifting my heels up onto the edge of the sofa and leant forward to start sliding his tongue down over me, licking and pushing at me with it. I had to pull him back up onto the sofa next to me. “Too quick, I want to look at you for a moment” I told him, as I slid down onto my knees taking the position he’d just been in.

“Magnificent, wonderful” I mimicked his accent, as I licked at him instead. He continued to try and pull me back by my arms onto the sofa for a few minutes, until he slowly succumbed to my sucking and licking. I was enjoying the position I’d found on the floor in front of him, able to look up at his thickness, slide my lips down over it and then lick my tongue up and down its length and down around his sacs. Eventually though I could tell from his renewed efforts at lifting me up that he wanted me back on the sofa. But then as I sat down beside him again, one hand still squeezed around him, he pulled away and stood up to gather up my coat and spread it out over the coffee table next to the sofa. I let him lift me up and then lay me down on top of my coat and then watched and started to swoon again as he lent forward rubbing himself over my pussy. “Slap me with it” I told him and then gasped and groaned as I felt the heaviness of it slapping against me. I reached down to open my lips and expose my clit more and heard myself swearing and moaning as he whacked against it for several slaps and then just pushed forward inside.

We stroked against each other, with V leaning back and holding me by my hips and exclaiming “what sights you give me”. I giggled back “let’s try another view” and pushed him back a little and tried to swivel my right leg around between us and turn round onto my knees. On the narrow table it was too difficult a manoeuvre to achieve without him coming out, but as I re-positioned myself and pushed back against him I felt him sliding into my pussy and resuming his strokes almost immediately. I was leaning forward, gripping the sides of the table . . . he was holding me by each hip, stroking faster and stronger now, and groaning quite loudly. I fell forward a little more, squashing myself onto my coat, and let go of one side of the table to slide my hand down between my legs trying to reach under us and feel his sacs as he was pushing and slapping into me. “Out” I gasped to him, meaning for him just to slow and pull out a little so that I could feel my fingers around it, but instead he cried out and pulled away completely and then thrust forward again sliding it over the small of my back and lifting up to grab my shoulders. I felt him spurting it out over my back and him gasping and groaning with each thrust. I lifted myself up into him more, as he continued to thrust and splash, and groan into my ear. “Not on my coat” I giggled back up at him, “I can feel it dribbling” I said, as his stroking stopped and he squashed into me.

He lifted off and sank back down onto the sofa. I stood up carefully and stood in front of him, smiling at the sight of him hunched back in the sofa holding onto himself with one hand, the other pushed down onto the cushion beside him. “This is when you normally offer to get me a towel” I giggled. I bent down to hand him his glass from the floor and then lifted my coat up off the table hanging it on the back of a chair as I walked into the kitchen to find a tea-towel. I returned to stand in front of him and turned around to ask “can you wipe it for me please, I can feel it running down between my suspender and my skin”. After he’d wiped me I turned round to face him again and pulled off my suspender and stockings telling him “you seem to have lots lately, have you changed your diet or something?” He laughed that it was “you are to blame for making me so relaxed to spend like that”. I giggled at his choice of explanation and cuddled up next to him with my own glass which I’d hardly touched. We talked about his trips since our last meeting, and his appointments in Canada . . . I explained our family routine at Christmas.

“How long have we got?” I asked him after we’d been talking long enough for us both to have emptied our glasses. He said he was flying out at 7 p.m. so we had time for more wine! I got up to bring the bottle from the kitchen and stood in front of him topping up each glass as he held them out, one in each hand. I pulled the bottle away towards me as I slowly poured and he slowly followed, kneeling down off the sofa onto the floor as I teasingly edged backwards away from him. He was kneeling directly in front of me now. I finished pouring and stepped forward into him . . . he lifted his face up to lick at me. I turned away for a moment to reach over and place the bottle onto the coffee table. He moved to follow to put the glasses down, but I pushed myself back into him. “Hold them for a moment” I said. I opened my legs wider and stepped over him further, moaning encouragement to him as his tongue worked up and around and in-between my lips. I reached forward to hold each of his shoulders, standing directly over him now whilst his tongue continued its explorations. “I like having you in this position” I told him . . . (Aetna) . . . I tried lifting myself up and backwards further, gripping his shoulders, trying to see if he would let me direct his tongue further around me, but each time he would swivel back to my pussy again. I stood back and let him stand up and start to set the glasses down next to the bottle, but I said “take me to lie down for awhile”. I picked up the bottle and led him down the corridor to his bedroom.

He apologised that the cleaners didn’t come until the beginning of the week . . . the bed was still unmade from when he’d obviously left for his last trip. “And I thought you were such a meticulously tidy, organised, man” I lay back and accepted my glass and then gasped with delight as he leant forward after taking a sip of his own wine and sucking my nipple into the cold of his mouth, letting the liquid swirl around before sucking and swallowing at the same time. “I don’t know where you’ve been learning things like that” I giggled and offered him my other breast so that he could repeat the process. He protested that I was going to make him too drunk to be allowed onto his flight. I was feeling ever more aroused and moaning louder as he slid down my tummy to start licking at me again. “Fingers” . . . I reached for his hand and licked over and sucked on all four and pushed his hand down to where I wanted, and needed, him to be. I could hear myself urging him on and feel myself tightening on him and then bucking my hips up against him. We were thrusting and pushing against each other, him holding my leg with one hand and pushing and thrusting with the other, me thrusting my hips up and down off the bed and gasping “yes, faster”.

When it came I was holding his head in both hands and rolled over on my side gasping and groaning and squeezing my legs tightly around his arm, crying out as he extricated himself and let me flop down on my tummy. I heard him gasping suddenly as well, and lifted my head from the pillow to look back at him kneeling beside me, holding onto himself . . . and then felt him splashing again over my bottom and back. He collapsed down beside me and we lay together breathing heavily for a few minutes until I had to roll over onto my back and dry myself against the sheets. He cuddled into me telling me how amazing all this was. We lay for sometime, recovering our senses before slowly agreeing that it was time for him to be getting up and preparing for his trip.

I made coffee whilst he showered again. He wandered around the corridor and front room and back and forth to the bedroom, gathering things up, and still completely naked. I told him I enjoyed watching him walk around nude. He complained that I now had more clothes on than when I’d arrived (I’d slipped on the dress I’d brought with me in my bag, whilst he’d showered). I helped him unpack, and repack, his suitcase as he began to worry that he was going to be late. I reminded him that he didn’t have to worry about queuing for check-in like the rest of us (he flies Executive Class!!), but he was still anxious to order his cab. I asked him if I could share the cab with him to see him off, as it would be easy for me to get a cab home from Heathrow. He got so excited at that suggestion that he started wanting to kiss and cuddle again . . . but I reminded him of the time . . .

I texted J from the taxi to tell him that I “was on my way to the airport with V, but don’t worry I am coming home!” He texted back just a few minutes later to say he’d come and pick me up and told me to text him the Terminal and what time I wanted him there. I decided to call him back . . . I kept ignoring his first question about had I enjoyed the afternoon, (looking blushingly at V and wondering if he could hear J’s voice on the phone) and telling him that if he really wanted to pick me up he should set-off straight away as I was only going to wait until V had gone through into the departure lounge. Eventually I had to say “yes I’ve had a lovely time thank you” before agreeing to his suggestion that he actually park in the terminal carpark rather than trying to pick me up from just outside the terminal building.

As I ended my call, V was holding my hand and shaking his head saying “this is a remarkable situation”. I knew what he meant, accepting his kiss on the cheek, and glancing up at the mirror to see if the driver was looking back at us. I was tingling again!!!

We actually arrived in plenty of time and decided to have another coffee, talking more about our relationship(s) and “remarkable situation”. I excused myself to the toilets to “freshen-up for a minute before we say goodbye”, and then as we stood kissing before the entrance to the departure lounge I opened my bag to let him see my folded-up dress. “As I’ll have my own private cab home!” I giggled. We stood kissing, him holding me quite tightly and rubbing his hands over my coat over my bottom and whispering his appreciation for my spending such a wonderful few hours with him. I told him he was getting too emotional. “Airport farewells” I told him. We exchanged final kisses and wishes for Christmas and New Year . . . I saw him glancing back through the doors, we waved again . . . and he was gone.

I suddenly felt rather exposed, as I sat waiting for J to call. Sitting in Heathrow Airport, naked beneath my coat, with two policeman passing just yards away. What was I doing? I’d let myself get so carried away in wanting to impress and shock and tease V . . . this was so stupid, so silly. I texted J “where are you?” Minutes passed. I reached for my bag and headed for the toilets . . . my phone rang . . . I’d been holding it in my hand . . . it was J.

We sat in the car for half an hour, my tingles had returned, and I let J cuddle me under my coat as I told him how I’d felt as I walked away from the car when he’d dropped me off, and about “our coffee table” and V parading around after his shower. My tingles were turning to throbbings . . . J said that both the children would “still be out” . . . and I exclaimed “well get me home then!”.

Now it was dark as we drove along the North Circular . . . J knew how I had recently returned from an evening with S in his car, along this same road . . . I let him slip my coat down off my shoulders, pulling it up again as we got to each traffic light, only for him to beg that I slide it down again. My nipples were so tight and hard they felt as though they would burst.

We have had the most wonderful week !!! I can’t remember ever having felt so naughty, so free, or so much wanting to be together, as we have over the past week. I forwarded the three texts I’ve had from V, straight onto J as soon as I received them during the day, instead of waiting until the evening when we were both at home. We’ve relived the car journey to, and from, my afternoon . . . we’ve relived how I felt as I walked from the car to V’s door . . . our coffee table . . . those four fingers . . . my cab journey with V to the airport . . . and, as I keep telling J, those wonderful kisses that we’d shared when he told me he’d drive me down to the apartment.

Such wonderful, wonderful times.

Best wishes - Edith