Wednesday meeting with V . . .

V had called on Monday to say he’d be flying in on Wednesday and had booked a room for the evening (his apartment is still being used by a member of staff at his London office).

As I got ready for work that morning J made his usual suggestions as to what I should wear . . . I let him choose one of my M&S black bra and knickers sets and packed it into my work bag to change into after work. It has been a quiet month but the day still seemed to drag on longer than normal, but at least it meant that everyone else in the office was leaving on time. I called V to tell him I needed half an hour and he agreed to call from reception downstairs when he arrived. I started getting those little tingles of excitement, and apprehension, as I changed in the washroom and “freshened up”. His call came through a little earlier than I’d been expecting and I had to tell him I wasn’t quite ready. He said he’d wait in the cab outside.

I was a little embarrassed to be greeted with a full kiss on the lips as he held the taxi door open for me . . . in full view right outside my own office! . . . I pulled away and quickly shuffled onto the seat of the cab, tutting at him as he slid in next to me. He squeezed my hand and whispered that he’d missed me “more than I thought possible”. It was the same hotel as last time, but as we entered the foyer he told me he’d booked a table for dinner and led me straight into the restaurant. I teased that I’d quite enjoyed our bath and room service last time . . . he said he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that we could still “bathe together”. I actually wasn’t very hungry and just snacked, but V was clearly ravenous and enjoyed the meal, and telling me how well the office was doing in spite of the difficult times.

The room was just as wonderful as our last visit and V had obviously already prepared ahead with wine in the cooler and those wonderful large glasses sitting on the edge of the bath. We embraced as he ran the water and I immediately began to feel my confidence . . . and tingles . . . returning as he undressed me. “Today you’re wearing underwear” he gasped as he slid my skirt down over my hips. “I have been working all day you know” I replied, not wanting to tell him that I’d only changed into these just over an hour ago. I felt my nipples were already hard as he unclipped my bra and then leant forward to suck on them as he ran his hands inside my knickers to caress the cheeks of my bottom. “Pull them off” I told him as he ran one hand around my tummy to the front. I stepped out of them and had to pull him up from where he’d dropped down onto his knees and started kissing at me there. “I need a bath first!” I told him.

He unbuttoned his shirt and then undid his belt whilst I sipped at my wine and teasingly murmured “Mmmm” as he slid his own underpants off. He was already quite erect and I stepped forward to hold it as I kissed a sip of wine into his mouth. We continued our kissing and stroking until I pulled away and reminded him that the water was running! I stepped in first . . . enjoying his compliments about my nipples and teasingly sliding down in the water to hide them under the bubbles.

V seemed more aroused and suggestive than I’ve seen him before. He was sliding his hands down my back and then lifting me forwards and up to try and sit me down onto him, but I wasn’t ready and didn’t feel comfortable. “Have you ever done it in a bath?” he wanted to know. I giggled that our bath at home was only “big enough for one”. He let me arrange myself more comfortably, sitting between his legs and just stroking his willy and telling him to lean back more. He protested that he wanted to be touching me as well, but I told him “I’m just enjoying this at the moment” as I continued squeezing, and stroking, him. We had soon emptied our glasses and I told him I needed to get out and he could dry me and top-up our glasses. He moaned that he wanted to “play in the water longer” but rather grudgingly stepped out when I held out a towel and told him how much I enjoyed looking at him with the water and bubbles dripping off his “bits and pieces”.

We dried each other with those wonderful big fluffy towels and he followed me into the main room and poured out the wine into my outstretched glass as I lounged back on the bed. He passed the bottle into my other hand and soon had me gasping and groaning as I leant backwards trying to not spill my glass as he knelt beside me and started licking and stroking. I complained that I had my hands full . . . and heard myself gasping louder as he took no notice and sucked even harder from one nipple to the other whilst he slid his hand down between my legs. I spread them wider to let his fingers probe further . . . “I’m going to spill this” I moaned again, and then gasped even more has he slid down over my tummy and I felt his tongue scraping down over my lips. He was ignoring my pleas to take the glass, or the bottle, so that I could free my hands . . . and was now tonguing and sucking between my lips and then up over my clit. “Oohh fuck . . . fuck . . . hell” . . . I came, clenching my legs together, squeezing him out from between them, and rolling over onto my side still trying to balance the glass and feeling my tummy roll onto the cold of the wine bottle I was still grasping in my other hand. He sat up and took my glass, and then the bottle as I stretched it out to him, swearing at him “that was nasty”. “Have you come?” he wanted to know. “Of course I’ve come, couldn’t you tell?” I felt like I was still shuddering and shaking . . . and suddenly feeling guilty that it had been so quick.

I lay back whilst he sat talking again . . . occasionally lifting myself up on one elbow to accept sips of wine. We’d soon finished the bottle he’d rescued from me. He got up to open another bottle . . . and despite my, admittedly, half-hearted comment that I’d already had enough, we were both soon sitting side by side sipping and talking again. As our conversation slowed he began stroking and caressing again. I reached over him, lying myself across his lap to put my glass down onto the bedside table. As I slid myself back I let my nipples pause over him, nestling them down over his warm willy. I kissed his tummy and could feel him stiffening under my breasts. I slid down the bed further until my mouth just naturally guided its way over his erection. I pushed myself down between his legs so that I could snuggle both my hands up underneath his sacs, whilst I lifted my mouth up and down over him. I do love feeling him inside my mouth like this . . . and pushing it to one side with my tongue so that I can feel the head of him pushing out against my cheek . . . and then sliding one hand up around his cock as I lift up, and then suck down again.

He rolled me over though and lifted me back up the bed to be alongside him, pinching gently at my nipples and then leaning forward to flick his tongue over them. I still had one hand stroking him and, rather weakly, tried to push him back . . . but my gasps were letting him know how much his licking and sucking at my nipples was arousing me . . . and instead I found myself on my back again, his hands spreading my legs wider. He slid down my tummy again, to the position he’d been in earlier, but this time lifting my legs further apart and sliding his tongue down over my pussy lips with firm, sliding, strokes. With each up and down stroke his tongue slid further down and I found myself lifting my bottom up and forwards and gasping and groaning as his tongue started flicking and probing at me there. He whispered how much he’d been thinking about me telling him that I “enjoyed this place” . . . and I was enjoying it . . . even more so from hearing him talking about it.

I lifted his face away and without saying anything, turned over onto my knees. I reached back with a hand on each of my cheeks and pulled them wider. As I felt his tongue sliding up and down I moved myself backwards and forwards to guide him down to my pussy and then up to my bottom again. Feeling his breath warm on my bottom, and his tongue sliding and pushing, was making me more and more aroused. I reached for one of his hands, sucking on his index finger and then pushing it round behind me. I gasped as he pushed. “Aahhgg . . . gently” I told him. I reached back to grasp his wrist and hold and guide him. Just as I was getting more and more relaxed he pulled away and I felt him re-adjusting himself. I looked back to see him holding himself and lifting up on his feet. “No, no, no” I said, and rolled over onto my side, pulling him roughly back down onto the bed beside me. “You can’t just put it in there!” I giggled, kissing him and saying “not just like that”. He lifted himself up and then reached in under the pillow at the top of the bed to pull out a small bottle. I recognised it straightaway as the same make of gel that we had at home. I rolled my eyes and giggled again, “it’s not as easy as that you know” I told him. “You said you do it like that” he said. “Yes, sometimes, if I feel right, but . . . “ I couldn’t finish. He is thicker there than S, and thicker than any of the beads and wands that J and I play with (sometimes!). I laughed as my protestations hadn’t seemed to be putting V off . . . he was trying to squeeze some out onto his willy. He started to laugh with me when I pointed out that he hadn’t peeled the plastic film off the cap !!!

We rolled around on the bed, giggling and stroking at each other . . . and then squealing with the sudden cold jet of gel as he eventually squeezed a shot out of the bottle and it splashed onto our chests between us. Our playfulness became a bit more erotic though as he squirted more gel over himself . . . I reached forward to rub it up and down over his, still erect, willy. It did look impressive, glistening and hard, as I smeared some more over him. “You have to keep it moist” I said, “otherwise it gets sticky”. He was leaning back as I stroked, clearly enjoying the sensation of my hand sliding up and down on him.

I lay back . . . “go on then, rub some on me then” . . . “With your fingers, and not so much!” I gasped as he squirted with the bottle. I was feeling excited, and awkward, at the same time. What seems so natural with S, seemed clumsy and . . . well embarrassing . . . here with V. Looking down at him, as he knelt forward, and feeling him pushing . . . I was beginning to lose the feeling, and the desire. I pushed him away a little and turned back over onto my knees, “this way might be more comfortable” I told him. I reached back again. He had one hand on my hip, both our hands were sticky, rather than slippery now. “Squeeze some more V” I said to him. I was spreading myself again, and trying to find his willy with my free hand. I felt the gel splashing over my bottom, and my hand, and his willy, again.

And, then . . . I could feel his head. I reached back again, he was holding himself, and I gripped my hand around his arm, holding and directing him. I felt my knees spreading a bit further and I reached forward with my free hand to balance myself on the bed. He was standing up behind me now, and I could feel him pushing. We were both gasping, but I could hear myself getting louder as I allowed myself to relax and felt him more and more. I was twisting my hips now, and supporting his weight. He was whispering out “God, god” . . . I reached back again to pull one of his hands off my hip and round down over my tummy to my lips. I rolled his fingers round and round, he was responding to my groans of “my clitty, do my clitty” and I could balance myself with both hands down on the bed again. I needed to now as he was pushing and thrusting harder. “Slowly, slower” I was gasping back over my shoulder. Then I felt him straining and his breaths gasping with sudden bursts. His hand pulled away from my pussy to grasp me on both hips and as I knew he was coming I suddenly felt myself letting go as well. Knowing what I was doing and “what” I was doing it with . . . I knew I was being so loud I buried my face into the pillow to muffle my groans as I fell forward . . . and felt that sudden release, and sudden pull, as we separated.

V had fallen forwards with me and then rolled off onto the bed beside me. I could hear, and feel, his heavy breathing and opened my eyes to see his face next mine, his eyes still firmly closed but his nose and mouth snorting and puffing. Neither of us moved for some minutes, nor spoke . . . when I opened my eyes next, his eyes were open now as well. He smiled, rolling his eyes, and then reached over with his arm over my shoulder. We snuggled into one another. “You were naughty to do that to me” I whispered. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head, smiling and then laughing a little.

We slept, probably only for 20 minutes or so actually, until my phone alarm went. But it felt like the sort of deep sleep that you hate being woken up from. I stumbled out of the bed and across the room to switch it onto the “snooze” button and then slide back next to him. He hadn’t stirred, not even moved. He looked completely peaceful and relaxed laying there on his side. I couldn’t help looking down at his willy, still quite plump, but curved and slightly covered by his sacs flopping forwards down onto the bed sheets. I lay next to him, half wanting to close my eyes and doze off again, holding onto my phone, waiting the ten minutes for it to ring again. This time he stirred and shifted on the bed, opening his eyes and then sitting up to ask what the time was. I was waiting for him to tell me I could stay, but he knew I would only have replied that I couldn’t. Instead I pushed the snooze button for the second time and we cuddled and chatted. I loved hearing his compliments and his invitations . . . it wasn’t just my exhaustion that was making it difficult for me to get up, but I knew I had to . . .

V accompanied me down to reception to the taxi. We lingered over our goodbye kisses, wishing each other a Happy Easter, me wishing him a safe flight home in the morning (actually it was already morning!), him telling me he would be calling me after the weekend to arrange his next visit. I texted J from the cab to tell him I was on my way and he replied immediately to say he was “ready, willing and able” . . . and he was!

Waiting for me, naked, in his usual spot on the sofa, he stood to hand me my glass and I let him unbutton my blouse and skirt whilst I sipped. He knelt to kiss me, and as I stepped out of my skirt and opened my legs wider, he looked up at me saying “your lips are all puffy”, and then, “you’ve been using gel”. I pulled him up and we collapsed back onto the sofa together . . . “I needed it !!” I replied.

Quick note about my shopping encounter . . .

Had an interesting coffee break yesterday afternoon . . .

Several weeks ago J and I were invited to one of our friends husbands 50th (the evening of J treating me to some new outfits at Brent Cross actually). We knew most of the other couples at the party, but were introduced for the first time to their neighbour. He was very nice and of a similar age to us and J and I spent quite a while, in the course of several conversations that evening, chatting to him about children and universities etc. as he had a daughter the same age as our son, who was also away at her first year of uni. He’d recently lost his wife after several years of illness and so we talked a lot about that and then about family holidays we had all had in similar resorts in Spain. He was very charming and very easy to talk to . . . and as I remarked afterwards to J “quite dishy”.

Last weekend as I was loading my shopping into the car in the Waitrose car park I heard a “hello, I didn’t know you shopped here?” I turned to find him standing by his car several spaces away. We chatted for a few minutes and he asked if I’d like to join him for a coffee in the coffee shop. I explained I had freezer things I’d just bought and so had to get them home. We said our goodbyes and I didn’t think anything further of it . . . I didn’t even mention it to J when he got home that evening (he’s been working for the last three weekends in a row).

And I didn’t even think of it when I pulled into Waitrose again yesterday afternoon. But as I stepped out of my car I saw him approaching from the next section . . . smiling and saying hello. I was rather taken aback, and he could obviously tell the thoughts running through my mind. “No you’re right, it’s not a coincidence” he said. “I just took a chance you might shop around the same time and hoped I could talk you into joining me for that coffee”. I pointed out that it actually wasn’t exactly the same time that I’d shopped last week . . . and that, anyway, I hadn’t planned on such a big shop this weekend and was going to have to do a dinner for J when he got in from work, so I didn’t really have time. His blushes, and apologies, and good humoured acceptance of my refusal immediately made me feel guilty though . . . so I quickly changed my mind and said “yes, ok then, just a quick one would be nice”.

We chatted for 30 minutes or so . . . and I found myself completely at ease with him and instantly likeable. I was constantly bringing J’s name into our conversation though, so much so that afterwards I had those twinges of embarrassment and thinking to myself “why did I say that” and “I shouldn’t have kept mentioning him so often”. We finished our coffees and he said “I’ll let you do your shop, otherwise your husband will be complaining that his dinner is late”. I felt like a giggly teenager again actually as we said our goodbyes and he said “might see you again next week then”.

J couldn’t stop talking about it as soon as I told him when he got in from work. “Obviously he fancies you!” he kept saying. “I could tell that at the party, just the way he was looking at you”. I told J that he always says that about other men looking at me and, on that occasion anyway, I hadn’t noticed it. But I have to admit that it did get me going . . . he is very, very dishy . . . and J and I had wonderfully passionate “cuddles” last night. And again this morning when we woke up !!!

As he was going out the door this morning he left me with “I can’t believe you didn’t ask him for his number, why don’t you ask (our friend) for it?” I swore at him . . . “I can’t do that !!! You’ll just have to be thankful for what you’ve just had !!!”

But . . . now I am sitting here thinking whether we need anything else from Waitrose tonight . . . !!!!

Saturday with S . . .

After taking our daughter to the station on Friday evening J and I had a lovely meal in our local Italian. Then an early night talking, and playing, about my invitation for S to pop-round the next afternoon whilst J was at work. J woke me early in the morning, rubbing against my back, even more excited than he had been the night before. He left me recovering in bed as he left for work . . . "Are you going to wear one of your new outfits?" he asked as he stood at the bedroom door. I giggled back "I wasn't thinking of wearing anything actually!".

I dozed until 9 . . . a luxury I never normally have on weekends . . . then wandered around tidying the front room, and the bedroom, whilst I sipped my wake-up mug of tea and then ran a bath. S had told me he had to take his children to sports early in the morning and wouldn’t be leaving for his “golf afternoon” until mid-day.

As I lounged in the bath I was contemplating how I should greet him at the door, but the more I thought about it the more I couldn't be bothered with getting dressed. I sat in my robe whilst I dried my hair and did my make-up, and decided this would be much more comfortable and much more practical. I smeared a little lipstick around my nipples hoping it would last long enough for him to taste it.

He called just after noon to say he was parking round the corner and five minutes later tapped on the front door. We embraced in the hallway and he was already undoing my robe before I’d had a chance to catch my breath. I was naked almost immediately and gasping as he quickly found the lipstick. He dropped down onto his knees, licking down my tummy straight to my lips. I found myself opening my legs for him and having to balance myself by holding onto his shoulders as he pushed forward, reaching up to grasp my hips and almost lift me off the floor as he pushed and probed with his tongue. I tried to step away backwards, telling him he hadn’t even commented on my new hairstyle . . . but he shuffled on his knees in time with my backward steps, lifting his mouth away just long enough to mumble “I love it”, before burying himself between my legs again.

It was arousing, so arousing!!! He stood up and started pulling off his jacket and shirt as I unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down over his hips . . . then had to pull away laughing at his attempts to kick off his shoes as he tried to step out of his trousers. It did look comical to see him, with his erection bouncing around, as he had to drop awkwardly down on his bottom and pull off his shoes. “And the socks!! I hate that!” I said as he initially stood back up, naked except for his socks!!!

We embraced again, this time much more slowly, and more purposefully. I let him suckle from nipple to nipple again and stroked his back with one hand, whilst reaching down to his willy with my other. “Do you want lunch” I giggled to him. He was mumbling again with his mouth full, “just these and this” sliding his fingers down and in between my legs. We stood kissing and stroking, and sucking for a little longer, until I pulled away and suggested “let’s go upstairs then” . . .

There’s just something about being in my own bed that I enjoy more, much more, than any other . . . I was feeling just really, really aroused as we rolled around and around and over each other on the bed. The more we played the more aroused I felt myself becoming and the naughtier I wanted to be. I sat up on his chest facing his feet and then slid myself over him, reaching down between us to guide him inside me. As I leant forward, lifting up and pushing down and lifting up and pushing down I felt his hands spreading my cheeks. I felt his finger pushing forward, but reached back to brush his hand away saying "I don't want. I just want this". Lifting up and sitting back down on him again and again. His hands spread my cheeks again, I knew what he was looking at. "You can look but not touch" I told him. He was gasping and groaning, saying "But I so want to touch".

I was getting closer and closer, but then heard him gasping out "Up, I'm going to come". I quickly lifted up off him and swivelled round to lay down next to him. I reached over to stroke his willy with my hand. He came with quick splashes. I sat up on one elbow, stroking his chest and then sliding down to his groin. I rubbed the wetness down over his tummy and then up over mine, rolling over on top of him and feeling the slippery squelching between us. "Don't want to get it on J's side of the bed" he was gasping. "He'd probably quite like it actually" I giggled. He still seemed quite hard, so I rolled off him and sucked him into my mouth again. He felt warm and definitely still quite firm in my mouth. I sucked for a few strokes and then sat back up on him, lifting myself over his chest and reaching down to grasp his willy and position it so I could slide down onto it again. I was facing forwards this time, enjoying the way he was smiling at me. We were both groaning again. I started bouncing up and down on him, straightening up and rubbing my fingers over myself as I bounced. I was really close again and needed it so badly. He was whispering how he loved watching me play with myself. As I came I fell forwards onto him, snuggling into his shoulder as I felt his arms cuddling around me and squeezing me into his chest.

We lay together like this for some time, me on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around me and his occasional kisses on my head and neck. Eventually I’d recovered enough to roll off him and sit up. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “I have some Marks and Sparks snacky bits in the fridge". He agreed that as he hadn’t eaten since an early breakfast . . . and I hadn’t eaten at all . . . that we’d go back downstairs for some refreshments. We both laughed as we reached the top of the stairs and looked down to see his clothes and shoes, and my robe, in a pile on the floor just inside the front door. Anyone coming in would have had to step over them. We moved them into the front room on our way to the kitchen. S poured the wine whilst I arranged some food and we snuggled up on the sofa with our plates and glasses, chatting and nibbling. I explained about J’s work project and why he was working both days this weekend, and S told me all his latest family news and plans for their summer holidays.

I enjoyed asking him to top-up my wine and watching him walk out to the kitchen and back, teasing him that it was obviously “colder in our kitchen than here on the sofa”. He wasn’t drinking any more wine as he’d “have to be driving home from golf”, so with no plates and no glass to hold his hands started caressing and wandering again. I leaned back into the sofa and opened my legs so he could slide down between them. His tongue and fingers soon had me moaning . . . I had to ask him to stop so I could put my glass down onto the floor, but then I took his head in my hands and guided him straight back to where he’d been. His fingers were lovely and I was lifting my hips for him and pushing and groaning as I felt him stroking and probing. "How many?" I was gasping. "Four" he answered. "I want more" I told him. "Haven't got any more" . . . and, as he said it I felt myself coming. I thrust myself up against his hand and his tongue licking and swirling around above it. I came so hard I had locked myself around his head and he had to struggle to pry me apart and lift away. I felt him lifting my legs back up onto the sofa, and I straightened out to lay back flat on my back. It was some minutes before I’d recovered enough to open my eyes and see him still kneeling on the floor beside me. I pulled my legs up so that he could sit down beside me and feed me sips of my wine. Eventually I was able to sit up completely and snuggle up to him again, stroking his chest and then down his tummy. His erection felt lovely, smooth and hard. "What do you want?" I asked as I stroked gently up and down. "Toys" he groaned. It was so surprising, and so quick the way he said it, that I laughed and pulled my hand away. He quickly pulled it back to where I’d been holding him. “I like seeing you with your toys” he said. S has seen our toys on a few occasions before but the sudden surprise with which he was asking made me feel like giggling rather than feel aroused. I said “well, we’ll have to go back upstairs again” . . . he took my hands and lifted me up in an instant.

I lifted the small suitcase (“our toy box” as J calls it) out of the wardrobe and let him open it up as I sank back onto the bed with my glass of wine. He was lifting things up like an excited school boy . . . but I kept disappointing him by shaking my head and telling him I really didn’t feel like “that one” right now. It was strange, but despite the length of time, and all the things I’ve shared with S, I still felt a little uncomfortable about sharing some of J and my secrets with him. I told him I needed more wine and would he go down to the kitchen to bring the bottle up for me . . . I soothed his reluctance with a teasing “then I might let you choose”. As he disappeared I rummaged through to find several things that I didn’t want him to see, and slid them under the bed. I was feeling a little naughtier and more excited now as I lay back and held out my glass for him to top-up on his return.

I was still giggling, but feeling much more devilish now . . . “maybe” I teased, as he lifted up one that was one of J’s favourites. “You promised” he said . . . that made me laugh even more, and I pulled him down with me. I tried to squirt some wine into his mouth as we kissed, I could feel he was quite excited . . . and I began feeling tingly again as well.

Our caresses and kisses had us both quite worked up now . . . I laid back and let him rub the long beaded wand over my nipples. The buzzing and vibrating made me feel even more wanton. I opened my legs as he moved it down to my pussy. He was leaning forward and spreading my lips with the fingers of one hand while he directed the top bead over my exposed clit with the over. I was moaning loudly and had to push it away telling him “it will be too quick otherwise”. I turned over onto my knees and let him re-adjust it so that he was sliding it between my legs, forward over my lips and then sliding it back and up between my cheeks. “I need my gel” I told him as I collapsed back down onto the bed. He found the bottle in the case and I knelt back up for him, gasping as I felt him smearing it over and down and around. I adjusted myself to help him as he directed it, groaning my “gentle, gentle” and “twist” instructions and then hearing myself getting louder and louder as he probed deeper and he ran his free hand around and down my tummy. “Take it out now . . . you better, if you want me” I was starting to twist and turn my hips.

I gasped loudly as I felt him pulling it out, and then groaned and gasped more as I felt him re-positioning himself behind me and then pushing in. I reached back with my hands to join his as he held my hips, then had to quickly let go to re-balance myself on the pillows as he started his thrusts. I let my knees slide wider and reached up to hold the bedhead as we rocked back and forth against one another. I could hear him moaning now too, not as loudly as I was, but with deeper and deeper gurgles and groans. He’d moved one of his hands up to the small of my back, pushing down on me, and reached round with the other to slide his fingers over my pussy, but our quickening movements was making it difficult for him to find the spot. Then, suddenly, he didn’t need to. “Oh, fucking, push me” I was squealing out . . . I fell forwards and sideways onto the pillows . . . both of us gasping and crying out to each other as we separated. I was rocking from side to side, and felt him slide off me as my shuddering continued. He’d collapsed down on to the bed beside me and as he pulled me into him to cuddle, I felt the wet of his come on the sheets . . . and dribbling down between my legs. We lay without speaking for ages . . . before I eventually turned over to face him, cuddling into his shoulder. “Sticky stuff everywhere” I giggled. “Sorry” he whispered back.

We slept for nearly an hour. Waking with a start, but then consoling each other that we still had an hour before he would be expected home from his golf. He asked with a worried tone “what time will J come home?”, I told him it would be two hours or more yet, and that “he’ll phone first anyway” . . . before teasing him with “but he’d love to walk in and find us like this”. . .

It was actually S’s phone that beeped first. We could hear it ringing downstairs in the front room where he’d left it. The ringing stopped before he reached it, but as he came back into the room clutching his clothes it beeped with a text. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, and I laughed out loud, as he read out “bring some milk in when you come”.

I watched him dress and accepted his kisses, on my tummy and breasts, and neck and then forehead, as he told me how fantastic it had been. “The best ever!” I told him he’d left me so exhausted that I couldn’t get up and see him out . . . so he could wait and stay a bit longer if he wished, so that I could recover . . . but he said he had to go.

I reluctantly got up and followed him down the stairs. We kissed our goodbyes at the door and I struggled back into the front room to find my robe and snuggle up into J’s normal position on the sofa . . . this time it was me, waiting for him, to come home . . .

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!!

Mrs Robinson

I’ve had numerous messages over the past few days mentioning the predicament that Iris Robinson and her husband have found themselves in. (For overseas readers: Both Ministers in the Northern Ireland assembly).

Many of the messages have been quite scathing and critical of her actions, and asking my opinion given my “Spur of the Moment Moment” last June.

I do understand (from personal experience), how she could find the attentions of a younger man exciting, and arousing . . . I certainly did . . . and, of course, we ALL make mistakes, and errors of judgement in both our personal, and business, life.

So I do sympathise with her on that level. I know that I always enjoyed looking at R’s body during our gym work-outs, and I know I was very flirtatious with him, and enjoyed his attentions and his responses. Of course, my situation was made even more exciting by the fact that J was always pointing out how obvious it was that R “fancied me”. And when I unexpectedly found myself with the opportunity to “indulge” in that spur of the moment meeting, I found it tremendously flattering, and exciting, and arousing . . . so much so, that I couldn’t, or didn’t even want to resist his advances. The opportunity presented itself and it just happened.

In actuality, it wasn’t wonderfully fulfilling . . . but it WAS flattering and exciting. So, in that respect, I can understand how Mrs Robinson may have found herself in a similar situation, and a similar frame of mind, and just succumbed to that spontaneous sexual combustion that sometimes just happens inside ALL of us. And I don’t care how many people say they would NEVER do that sort of thing . . . I KNOW that every one of us, have, or will, at some time or another, find that uncontrollable biological urge that makes us forget all reason and morality and danger. I TRULY believe that. No matter what your religion, gender or position (or perhaps sometimes BECAUSE of the moral pressures of your religion, gender or position) we will ALL at some point succumb to that special release, or temptation.

I admit that I enjoy occasionally succumbing to those temptations . . . I enjoy being able to forget for brief moments in time my responsibilities to family and friends. BUT I do realise that at least I am able to release myself to those flattering and exciting feelings from time to time, because of the wonderful relationship I share with my husband. Mrs Robinson, unfortunately, probably felt she wouldn’t be able to share those feelings with the person closest to her . . . and that is what I feel is the saddest aspect of her situation. Not that she found herself indulging in something exciting and different and forbidden, but that she felt that the only way she could indulge in that relationship, was to do it secretly, behind her husbands back.

And, I am sure that it is because of that moral, personal, pressure she must have felt that she could only continue her excitement, and affair, in SECRET and without SHARING it with her husband, that she suddenly found the situation spiralling into the other unfortunate aspects of the situation she found herself in. Arranging a loan for her young lover, using her political position to convince unknowing friends or associates to help this young man get a start in life. She just, very probably, felt it all spinning quickly out of control in the course of a few weeks. Things that may have been said, or promised, in the heat of a few passionate evenings that were helping her forget the pressures of her political and family life, just suddenly grew into much more than she would ever have imagined.

Of course, being in the position she was, perhaps she should have considered things much more carefully. BUT she probably had NO-ONE she felt she could turn to, no-one she could share her feelings, her guilt, her worries with.

It is terribly sad for her husband, and his political career, and for her family . . . sad for EVERYONE involved. But I challenge all the people who are getting on their high-horse and saying that in her position she “should have known better” . . . I challenge all of them just to stop and reflect for a moment, and think to themselves . . . and ADMIT to themselves . . . that somewhere in their past, at some point, or instance, in their lives . . . have they not felt a spontaneous, sexual moment, lead them to somewhere they never dreamed they would go.

I pray for Mrs (and Mr) Robinson . . . not for their political careers, but for their personal well-being. I wish them hope . . . and happiness.

Best wishes - Edith

Snowy Sleep-over with S . . .

The weeks prior to the Christmas break had been really hectic and not practical, for one reason or another, to meet up with S. We’d discussed tentative dates on numerous occasions (we talk regularly as S calls me several mornings a week when I’m on my way in to the office) but family, or work events, always seemed to conflict.

We were finally able to agree on the Monday evening before Christmas. Initially we were to meet in Hampstead at our normal Italian, but as I was freshening-up in the office S texted to ask me to call. Everyone in the office had earlier been looking out the windows as snow had started falling, but from our office several floors up it hadn’t looked like settling and I’d thought nothing more about it. But S was now telling me that “traffic was a nightmare” and that out in the suburbs it certainly was settling and causing major problems. He suggested that instead of getting a taxi I should get a tube and he’d meet me at the station. Even as I left the office and walked to the tube the snow didn’t seem to be settling and the traffic appeared to be moving as it normally does in the West End. But, just as I was about to descend into the station S called again. Traffic was so bad he was going to try to drive straight to the hotel and said I should take a different branch and get off at the Station which was nearer to our hotel, and he’d meet me there.

It wasn’t until I actually reached my destination and got out to street level that I realised the problems he’d been having. The traffic was backed-up in a long line stretching in both directions all the way along the road and whilst it seemed as though the road itself had been gritted, the side roads and the pavements certainly hadn’t. S was nowhere to be seen . . . I called and he answered immediately, saying he’d managed to park at the hotel and had started walking to meet me. I set-off in the direction of the hotel, cursing under my breath that my boots were clearly not ideal footwear for the slippery pavements. I was not the only one struggling amidst quite a crowd of people gingerly making their way along the footpath. I’d been walking about ten minutes, with several pauses to call, or answer calls from S to liaise on each others progress, before we met. As we retraced his footsteps back towards the hotel we crossed over several side-roads which rose up on what would normally seem quite gentle inclines from the main road, but the cold and lack of gritting meant that the ice was causing the cars trying to get in or out to slide treacherously. The snow had stopped falling by the time we reached the hotel, but it was clear that the main intersection on the corner was almost completely grid-locked.

The lobby was warm and welcoming and as soon as we got to our room I collapsed onto the bed and told S I’d love to have a bath. As he started running the water I browsed through the room service menu and suggested we order some food to “snack on . . . and a large bottle of wine!” He made the call as I undressed and slid into the warmth and bubbles of my bath. He sat next to me and joked that the carpark downstairs had looked “frozen-solid” when we’d arrived back. I’d texted J whilst S had been running the bath. There’d been no reply but now as soaked my phone beeped. S brought it over to me. It was J asking me to call if I could. I phoned him straight back, I knew he’d been working out in Essex and was now worried if he’d managed to get home yet. He hadn’t, he was close to home but stuck in a tail-back and traffic wasn’t moving at all. He suggested it might be easier if I “stayed put for the night”. S’s face beamed when I told him what J was suggesting. (I hadn’t stayed out for “a sleepover” since I’d stopped seeing M two years ago. J had never actually said he didn’t like me doing it, but I “know” that he much prefers me to come home, so . . . )

I told S it was still early yet, and that the snow had stopped, and although it wouldn’t be a problem for me to “have a late meeting and have to stay in town” for the evening, how would he explain it to his wife??? I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the toilet seat whilst he showered. He turned on the television, whilst we waited for room service, to see what the weather forecast for the evening was. Sure enough the “traffic chaos” as all over the news. We continued to watch after our food and wine arrived, it seemed bizarre to be sitting together . . . wrapped in our towels, snacking and sipping . . . watching TV !!!

It was already getting quite late. I slid my hand under his towel, he was soft . . . but warm. I asked “what are you going to do? You’d better call if you want to be staying all night”. He got up and walked to the window to peek out of the curtains. The window looked directly down to one of the busiest roads in North London. He said traffic was moving but still backed-up for miles. He picked-up his phone and called home. I could tell from the conversation that he was talking to one of his children, his wife was watching “her program” and wouldn’t come to the phone. I couldn’t believe it! But could tell that S was relieved to be able to ask that his son pass on the message that he’d be “staying overnight in Central”.

He bounced back onto the bed reaching for my towel, but I held it tight telling him he first had to make sure his phone was turned on to voicemail and the volume was turned off. We slid into an embrace for a few minutes, he was quite erect now, and I enjoyed slapping him gently on it as I told him to get back up and turn the TV and the main room lights off. As he got back onto the bed he told me he’d wanted to spend a whole night with me for years . . . and although I didn’t answer, other than to reach up to meet his kiss . . . I felt myself tingling with excitement as well.

His hand slid down between my legs and he pulled away a little to start kissing and sucking at my breasts. I was moaning already, and feeling really aroused as he slid his tongue around my nipples and his fingers were rubbing over my pussy. I opened my legs wider for him and gasped as I felt his fingers sliding in. He does such lovely things with his fingers . . . we adjusted ourselves on the bed as he slid further down to start following his fingers with his tongue. I was whispering him to “eat me” and holding his head gently as it bobbed up and down on me as his tongue flicked and licked, and his fingers pushed and probed. I lifted his hand up to my mouth to suck three fingers in and swirl my tongue around them. “This many?” I asked as I pushed them back down to my pussy again. He groaned that he knew I “could take more”.

I was writhing and bucking against his hand . . . he had it cupped so that his fingers were stroking in and out whilst his palm and wrist were rubbing over my clit . . . I could feel it sliding and scraping, and his fingers sliding and pushing. He pulled away and then knelt in between my legs. I reached down to hold him and guide his cock into me. He had a hand on each of my knees and I could see him looking straight down at my pussy. “Can you see my button?” I asked him as I reached down with my fingers and held my lips open with one hand whilst I rubbed round and round with the other. I was coming with little shudders as he stroked in and out . . . until I couldn’t take it any longer and had to push him gently away and roll over onto my tummy.

He got up off the bed and I continued to rock myself from side to side. “Incredible” he said as he knelt back beside me. I nodded and groaned into the pillow as though he was asking me a question . . . but then shivered with the feel of his fingers sliding slippery gel between my legs. “God let me get my breath back!” I turned back to look at him. He lay down behind me kissing my shoulder and neck, and stroking my back and bottom. He apologised that he’d just got carried away. We lay for awhile. I turned my head to lay on the other cheek so that I could see him, and reached down to start stroking him as we chatted. He was still hard, really hard and smooth. I cupped my hand and asked him for some gel and then lifted myself up on one elbow so that I could slide it up and down on him. He leant forward as I lay myself back down onto the bed, pulling the pillow down under my chest for support. His fingers felt wet and slippery sliding over my pussy and then up between my cheeks. I felt him kneeling up between my legs as I let myself twist on his fingers pushing up into my pussy again. I could feel the fingers of his other hand playing with me where he wanted to be, and then the hardness of him sliding over my cheek.

I so, so wanted to make up to him for the last time we’d met, and the excitement of our “night together” and the wonderful feelings of his fingers sliding round in front of me, made me feel more aroused and more wanton. I was completely engulfed by the moment, and heard myself telling him “come on, come on” as we rocked back and forth against each other. His fingers were everywhere . . . one hand pinching at my lips, the other reaching up to my nipples. I lifted myself up to then squash them down on the palm of his hand and then lifting again to let him scrape it across to the other nipple . . . and then back again. I could feel myself going to come again, trying to hold against it, sliding one hand down to clamp it over his knuckles as he still played with my pussy, whilst I reached with my other hand round behind us trying to hold his hip and push against him, urging him deeper into me whilst we tried to balance against each other as we each continued our thrusting and pushing. I couldn’t hold it any longer and fell forward gasping and groaning as we came apart. I heard him gasping as well and then felt him splashing it over me for an instant before his weight pushed me down onto the bed. Our writhing and convulsions continued as we rolled together on our sides, him pulling me back into his chest and then rocking forwards again to roll back on top of me. We rolled apart with final moans of satisfaction and then he cuddled into me again, kissing me on my shoulder and neck as before.

We lay not moving or talking, for ages and ages, just each breathing heavily, before I lifted up and rolled over to cuddle into him. I joked that normally by now he’d having to be waking me up to start getting ready to make our way home. I got up to stagger to the bathroom, and then asked him to turn back the sheets so that we could get into bed “properly”. I picked up the wine from the table on my return and stood next to him topping up our glasses before climbing in beside him. “At least you can have a drink tonight” I said. He replied that being able to have a drink was the very least exciting thing about being able to spend the night with me. We sat back beside each other, pulling the sheets up around ourselves, sipping at our wine and chatting more about each of our family arrangements for Christmas. I snuggled down onto his chest after I’d emptied my glass and we talked more of the coming weekend. His hands began to wander again, but I told him I was feeling “really nice and comfy. I just want cuddles now, I can’t do anymore of that tonight! Just be thankful we can cuddle together all night”.

“I love having my cunt licked in the morning!” I whispered to him as I looked down at him. We’d woken together and I’d felt his erection against my thigh before he pulled the sheets half off us and slid down the bed beside me. I stroked his hair as he rolled over me and onto his tummy between my legs. He continued his kissing and licking, pulling away to let me push both my hands down between us so that I could slide my lips apart for him. When he leant forward again I felt his tongue pushing hard over me, sliding down to push inside and then moving back up over my clit again. “Oh, I really like that” I told him. It did feel nice, really nice, but I wanted him inside me. I lifted myself up to start pulling him up on me and he just seemed to slide upwards in one movement, his chest sliding over mine and as his chin and lips met mine in a lovely wet and passionate kiss, his erection just guided itself in as if all in one movement. “Ohh” I gasped into his ear as I locked my legs around his bottom. It was lovely as he balanced himself over me with his hands either side of me onto the bed, and I leant up into him with my chin resting on his shoulder and my arms around his back.

The rhythm of his rocking began increasing, getting quicker and quicker, and his moans getting louder and louder. I could hear him gasping and pulling away and out, and then pushing forward, his willy rubbing up over my pussy. I let myself slide further down, still hanging onto him in our sling position, but feeling his cock sliding back and forth over my tummy. I looked down between us and as he thrust forward again with a loud groan, I saw, and then felt, a huge spurt as it splashed out over my tummy. More spurts followed, one after the other, as he swung forwards against me again . . . then as our arms gave way, he fell forwards onto me, our tummies squelching and sliding together. He was gasping with loud groans . . . and I was giggling with first the satisfaction of seeing and hearing him like that . . . and then with the ticklish sensation of his come dribbling and sticking on me as he rolled off me onto his side. We were both laughing now with the mess he’d made, but I had to jump up searching for one of our towels from the floor as the cold air and the dribbling on my skin was making me more ticklish. I dried myself off and then spread the towel out on the bed before lying down next to him. “Happy?” I asked him. “Just the best” was his reply.

We showered and lounged, taking turns to peek out through the curtains at the roads below. No snow, traffic moving freely. We agreed it would be more civilised to go down for breakfast, rather than ordering room service again, though I felt uncomfortable that I didn’t have a change of clothes or underwear. They told us that they had a man clearing the carpark so that cars could get out, and S said he’d take me home so that I could change before work (the hotel is only a few miles from home). But I told him I could hardly walk in on my daughter having her breakfast when I was supposed to have stayed overnight in the West End!. I had spare knickers in my drawer at the office, and was trying to convince myself that that would be perfectly fine . . . but I had no choice, I just couldn’t go home. I sent a text to J to tell him everything was fine and that S would take me to the station. His text back was “can’t wait to hear about it”.

Once we were out of the carpark the roads were actually fine . . . it seemed unbelievable that there had been such chaos the previous night. But as S dropped me off at the Station and we exchanged our goodbye kisses, he said “I wish it would snow like that more often !!”

Best wishes - Edith

Best Wishes for the New Year !!!

Thank you for all your Christmas emails and suggestive suggestions(!!!)

For those who have asked . . . Yes I did see S before Christmas, and I will try and post in the next few days. It seems such a long time ago now though, and with the memories of the evening not being so fresh in my mind, I probably won’t be able to recount all the details very clearly.

We’ve had a lovely, but hectic Christmas weekend. It was our turn to host this year so had J’s brother and sister-in-law and children staying for two nights, as well as both our parents for a night each as well.

I’m looking forward to an early night and a few days of peace with J and the children on our own now though! Although J is back to work tomorrow, I’m not starting back until the following Tuesday . . . bliss !!!

Wishing you all a happy and exciting 2010 !!!

Best wishes - Edith

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

Tingling Temptations !!!

V called early on Friday morning. He’s travelling and arriving back in London early tomorrow (Sunday) and flying out to Toronto early in the evening . . . he wanted to meet for a few hours “at the apartment”.

I told him that we have a family weekend planned (my son is back home for the weekend) and that it just wouldn’t be possible.

I recounted the story to J last night and he got really excited, telling me I SHOULD meet him, and that the children would understand if I suddenly had to “go into the office” on short notice. The conversation led to wonderful cuddles and a lovely deep sleep . . . and we awoke this morning and J started all over again. We are off to the gym shortly and I’m already exhausted !!!

It just wouldn’t be fair, or nice really . . . but there is something tremendously exciting about having J suggesting I should meet my lover . . . on a Sunday afternoon, in his apartment, and for no other reason than just a few hours of sexual fun.

I’m tingling all over . . . all over again !!!

Wonderful, long, naughty night with V . . .

Sometimes, no matter how much you plan, no matter how much you look forward to it, an “evening out” just doesn’t work out quite as you hope it will. And yet, just occasionally . . . very occasionally . . . everything, absolutely everything, falls into place. Perhaps it's fate, perhaps some sort of biological clock . . . if you should make it to the end of this long (too long?) post, be assured you will only have heard half the story!!

It had been almost a month since my lunch meeting with V . . . when all our talk had been about business projects . . . and we hadn’t seen each other “properly” since the summer. He’d phoned me in the office on Monday to say he’d be in London for a few days later in the week and hoped we’d be able to “share an evening together again”.

Whenever we haven’t “met” for a while, I always feel a little nervous about meeting him, and felt that way even more so this time. Part of me thinking that I should really make some excuse as to not having any free evenings this week . . . and yet, another part of me feeling excited tingles and wanting to show him I wasn’t just another of his business-woman contacts!!! I had some holiday days I hadn’t taken yet, so decided to take a day off and allow myself some calming-down time so that I wouldn’t feel I was having to rush out after a tiring day at the office and re-energise myself into someone I wasn’t really feeling like being.

He wasn’t flying-in until 4.30 p.m., so I spent the morning shopping at Brent Cross and then returning home to lounge in the bath. I called J as I drip-dried, and did my nails . . . he wanted to know what colour I was painting them, and what I was going to wear. (“Dark red” I told him, “my toes would look lovely squeezing your willy” I giggled. ) Just chatting to J so teasingly, and having had such a relaxing . . . and just “me” day . . . was making me feel quite excited about the evening after all. I spent ages going through my wardrobe, laughing to myself at some of J’s suggestions, and getting little tingles as I laid out some of my own ideas onto the bed. Moving our “toy box” aside as I pulled out my red ankle boots, I even thought, excitedly, about slipping one of the vibros into my handbag, before dismissing the idea . . . thinking that V would probably find it off-putting rather than exciting. (He’s not like S !!! Different personality altogether).

I settled on an H&M blouse, dark reds and burgundies floral print, which normally I would wear with a dark bra or top beneath (it’s 100% polyester and sheer but not exactly see-through, but which J always says makes my nipples “pointy” if I wear it without a bra) and black silk skirt, black stockings and suspenders, and my red ankle-boots and black coat. V called to say he’d arrived and was in a taxi on his way to the apartment. I told him I’d meet him there as I was just about to leave as well . . . I felt nervous, but tingly so, and throughout the taxi journey kept telling myself that I had to be decisive and not feel over-awed.

Actually hearing his voice on the intercom as I buzzed from downstairs, suddenly just made me feel very naughty and wanton again. He opened the door in his robe, drying his hair with a towel, saying he’d just finished a shower and asking why I hadn’t let myself in with my key. We exchanged kisses and I handed him my coat and then followed him into the kitchen where he had a glass of wine already waiting for me. I could immediately feel my nipples scraping against the fabric of my blouse from the affect of his embrace and his hands sliding down my back. I giggled my thanks at his “you look wonderful” compliments . . . and pulled away a little to raise my glass and tell him “you look nice in your robe as well”.

We stood together sipping at the wine and chatting briefly about his flight and the changes in his business since our lunch meeting. He asked where I’d like to go to eat. “I’m not hungry really” I replied, “are you?”. He shook his head as he kissed me again. I pulled away a little to take another sip of wine and cheekily said, “well then, let’s just stay here, otherwise it would just be wasting precious time wouldn’t it?” He nodded his agreement again, and to emphasise my point I raised my eyebrows at him and said “precious fucking time” and leant up to kiss him before he could respond. His gasp, and the stiffening of his arms around me, was enough to confirm my response had had the desired affect. I do love shocking him, especially as he’s told me on more than one occasion that I use stronger language than he’s used to. “Sorry” I said as our lips parted. But I could feel his erection prodding against my skirt from under his robe. He was kissing my neck and sliding his hands round from my back and up over the front of my blouse now. I leant back to put my glass down next to his and then round to return his kisses again. I had my hands up on his shoulders, letting him slide his hands under my blouse and up over my nipples which felt like they were almost bursting with anticipation. I swirled my tongue around against his and then pulled away to tell him how much “I like that” as he squeezed and pinched at them. I lifted my arms up for him as he lifted the blouse up over my head and gasped louder as he bent forward to flick his tongue around first one, then the other. “So hard. Magnificent” he was telling me. I leant back against the cupboards, holding his head with my hands and directing again from one to the other. “Chew” I told him . . . then gasping as I felt him really obeying my instruction. “God that’s lovely” I was encouraging him.

I could feel him fiddling with the clasp of my skirt, so pulled my back away a little from the cupboards to allow him to find the zip and then delighted in his gasp, and the feeling of the silk sliding off my hips. He pulled away to look down at me . . . and then caught me completely by surprise by lifting me up onto the worktop. I squealed with the sudden cold sensation of the marble on my bottom as he sat me down on the work surface, kissing and sucking at my nipples again whilst sliding his hand down between my legs. I felt his tongue sliding down over my tummy and tracing a trail down to my lips . . . I opened my legs wider for him and lifted myself a little forward to let his tongue flick down further and then groan my approval as he sucked at my clit. I had adjusted to the cold of the worktop on my bottom cheeks now, and was groaning quite loudly as he slid and swirled two fingers around and then in between my lips. “Oh, I like that” I told him. He pushed and prodded more and I reached down to pull his hand away and up to my mouth. “Let me taste” I said, sucking on three of his fingers and then pushing them back down to my pussy again. I spread my legs out for him as widely as I could. “Take my stockings off” I asked. “But I want you to keep them on” was his gasping reply. So I just leant my shoulders further back against the cupboards, sliding both my hands down to spread my lips wider and feeling his fingers pushing in and out. He was still licking and sucking at my nipples and I had to pull his head away for a moment to push his own fingers into his mouth, giggling and gasping at the same time as I saw the look on his eyes as he looked up at me and then down to my breasts again, before I pushed them once again down to my pussy. I was wet and aroused and feeling wonderfully naughty and was urging him on “that is so, so nice!”. I pushed his robe off his shoulders and told him “I want your willy now”.

The breakfast bar he had me sitting on was too high for that though, so he lifted me up and off and then as he lowered me down, I could feel the hardness of it rubbing against my stocking and then prodding against my lips as he lifted me down onto him. My groans were so loud as I felt him pushing into my pussy that I didn’t hear clearly what he was saying to me. I thought he was saying he wanted us to lie down here on the floor! As we stood against each other, resting back against the cupboards of the breakfast bar, with him inside me and my legs locked up around his bottom. He laughed at me, “no I said let’s lie down in the bedroom”. I squeezed myself further against him though, “just take me to the couch, I don’t want to go to the bedroom”.

It had only been 15 or 20 minutes since I’d arrived and although it was still early evening, it was already dark outside and I’d already told him how much I loved looking at the lights on the river. “I like the view from here” I said after we’d separated ourselves and he set me down on the sofa. He was standing in front of me and I was able to stroke him as it swayed and twitched in front of me. “I’ve missed this” I told him as I stroked up and down more and then leant forward to swirl my tongue around its head and then swallow down over it. I do enjoy feeling the thickness of him in my mouth. I sucked up and down on him for several more strokes before pulling away and asking “I’d like some more wine though please”. I giggled as he turned away and walked back across to the kitchen and then back into the room with a glass in each hand, his erection bobbing back and forth as he walked. “I told you I liked the view” I nodded to him and leant forward to kiss it quickly on its head as he stood in front of me offering the glass.

He sat down beside me and reached across to stroke his hand across my breasts again. “It’s not very comfortable on the chairs though” he said. I stood up and put both our glasses down on the floor and then sat down on the low coffee table in front of the sofa, pushing his newspaper off onto the floor and telling him, “I’ll be comfortable enough here”. I thought for an instant about telling him that J and I had indulged in this position on the table during our visit in the summer, but then thought better of it. Instead I held out my hand and pulled him forward to meet me. The height was perfect and we slid together in one motion. I was throwing my head back and stretching backwards on the table, he was pushing forward into me and sliding his tongue across my nipples again. “Squeeze my boobies” I asked him, but he was holding onto my hips and beginning to stroke faster into me now. I squeezed them together myself, watching him look with glazed eyes as I pinched at my nipples for him. We were both gasping and groaning and he was pushing faster now, gripping my hips and pumping quite fast back and forth. I could hear the legs of the table scraping on the floor, and feel it shaking as he pumped and thrusted in and out. I could feel myself close . . . but he pulled out, making the loudest moans I’ve ever heard him make and splashing across my tummy. He leant backwards holding his cock as it spurted more . . . I had to sit forwards and pull him back down onto me telling him to “come here, I like to feel it on me, not all over the floor”. We were squelching together as we embraced again. I’d been so close to exploding myself that I now had that momentary shudder of disappointment, and had to remind myself that I’d obviously made him very happy and that that felt nice too. “Ooooh, you’ve got loads” I laughed as he lifted himself up saying he was going to get a towel. “No, come back here” I pulled him down on me again, squirming myself against him, rubbing my nipples back and forth across his chest. He was still gasping and telling me he wanted to “clean it up”. “Have you been saving that up?” I whispered and kissed into his ear. “Leave it, I like it, I really do”. I squashed against him some more to reassure him further.

After a few minutes though we agreed it was, after all, getting a bit uncomfortable. He moved off to the kitchen to find his towel, and I sank back onto the sofa. As he walked back towards me I smiled at his glistening willy swinging from side to side, and shook my head as he handed the towel towards me. “I don’t want that” I said. Instead I reached out and pulled him down in front of me. I lifted each leg up onto his shoulders and then pulled him forward further into me, first kissing him and then pushing his chin down over my tummy. It took a few moments for the feeling to return, but as his tongue flicked around me, and I lifted my bottom further forward I started to moan that I wanted his fingers again. I pulled his hand up to my mouth, sucking on his fingers and then pushing them down again. He slid them in perfectly and I was quickly rocking back and forth on them, asking him to slide them out so that I could suck on them again, and then sliding them back over my clit and in between my lips, over and over. Each time we repeated the movements my moans were getting louder and I could feel myself getting closer. “Fuck me with them” I told him as I sucked on them again and then guided his hand back down between my legs.

When I came it was with huge gasps and shudders and I know I pulled myself over into the corner of the sofa, burying my head in the cushion and squeezing his hand between my legs so hard that he had to almost pry my legs apart to free himself. He stayed kneeling on the floor for a little while. I could feel him kissing my thigh and back and shoulders. Eventually he lifted my legs up straighter onto the sofa so that I could stretch out, and sat down on the edge near my bottom.

We didn’t speak for quite some time, until I suddenly felt cold and sat up next to him, pulling my legs round in front of me and groping on the floor for my wine. “Now you can take me to bed if you like”.

He led me into the bedroom and I stretched out on my tummy whilst he once again sat down next to me, stroking my back and helping me undo the stockings and peel them, and the suspenders off and onto the floor. He started to ask about work and the office. I’d consciously told myself that I didn’t want to talk business with him . . . “we’ve talked about all that last time” I tried reminding him. But he wanted to tell me how much had in fact changed since our lunch, and wanted to ask me more about how things were going at the office. I reluctantly had to sit up with my back propped against the pillows, accepting a top-up of wine, and then a long conversation about his plans for the new year.

We talked for ages, or rather V talked for ages . . . I was polite at first, but then after another glass of wine . . . I decided that I didn’t actually need any dutch courage, that I actually could enjoy shocking him. I took a large sip of wine and slid down the bed next to him . . . and leant over him and released half of my mouthful right over his plump, but resting, willy. He jumped with surprise and before he could adjust himself I nuzzled down onto him and sucked him up into my mouth, swirling the rest of my mouthful around him, before swallowing the wine and slowly sucking upwards off him until he plopped out. I leant forward again licking around him and around his sacs, sucking each of them gently and stroking his cock at the same time. He was quickly getting harder and harder and I felt him relaxing as I sucked back on him again. He had laid back further now and opened his legs as I knelt between them, alternating between sucking and stroking. I looked up at him and he laughed “you look happy with yourself don’t you!”

I pulled myself up the bed so that whilst I was still holding firmly onto his willy, I could lean over and kiss him and say “aren’t you happy as well?”. Still holding him, I lifted my leg over him and squatted above him, rubbing the head of his cock between the groove of my lips and up and over my clit and then down again. His breathing had changed now, and so did mine as I sat down onto him. We were both looking down at it as I lifted up off him slightly and then pushed down onto him again. I leant forward to push my hands down on his chest, still looking down between our tummies as I lifted up and down off him, and he responded by pushing upwards to meet each of my pushes down. This time we continued our pumping together for much longer than we had on the table in the living room. I knew I wasn’t going to come like this, but it was nice, and felt really naughty to be pumping and thrusting together like this. I could tell from his straining, and his quickening breaths though, that he was getting close. He held my hips and turned us over onto our sides though, slowing down and lifting my top leg up and positioning himself more so that he was sliding into me more slowly now. It still looked lovely though . . . and then began to feel lovely as well as he reached down and started playing with me with his fingers in time with the rhythm of his pushes. I lay my head back feeling for the pillow and as if to help me he rolled me over onto my back completely. Now he lifted up and was on top of me, pushing and thrusting into me again like he had before, with ever quickening pumping. He was holding my legs up by each ankle, spreading me apart and groaning and gasping quicker and quicker. “You have to come out” I told him, but it was too late, he was rocking his head back and I could tell he was coming and still inside me. With the way he was holding me I couldn’t immediately pull away from him, even though I was trying to twist onto my side. And then, despite myself, I suddenly felt myself exploding as well. Knowing I shouldn’t be letting it happen, yet at the same time wanting to have that cock spurting inside me as well. I heard myself gasping with a huge “no, oh fuck, no . . . .” but I couldn’t stop myself now locking my legs around him instead of trying to twist away. It was a rush of sensations . . . annoyance, relief, frustration and release. I wasn’t supposed to let this happen. He knew that, I knew that. But he said he couldn’t stop himself and I knew that once I felt it happening, I didn’t want to stop it either.

I continued with my gasps and moans as he cuddled me and we collapsed down beside each other. I was conscious that I was still shuddering with little, involuntary, convulsions several minutes afterwards. V had recovered his composure virtually straight away, and asked me if I was ok. He apologised again, and I snapped at him that it was “ok, stop it, it’s ok”. I wasn’t angry at him, more angry at myself . . . that perhaps I’d let myself down, opened up just that little bit “too” much.

Still, it had happened . . . and I knew that I had at that precise moment anyway, really enjoyed feeling that way. Completely wanton, completely and intensely out of control . . . and yet completely, and exhaustively, and exhilaratingly in control. I knew where I was, I knew what I was doing there, I knew what I wanted.

This time we dozed . . . a really relaxing, peaceful, cuddling sleep . . . for over two hours! Too exhausted for talking, too shattered for stroking. Just cuddled together. V had pulled the bedcovers over us at some point and as I awoke for a moment I forgot exactly where I was, and who I was with. As I lifted my head from the pillow and adjusted to the lights of the night through his window and heard his sleeping breaths so different to J, I remembered where I was and what I’d been doing. I sat up to focus on the digital clock on his side of the bed . . . it still wasn’t late, not really late.

My sitting up had woken him and he turned over to kiss me. His position against me meant he was kissing my arm and tummy. He lifted up a little and slid up to my breast. “They’re a little sensitive now” I admonished him. “Even just for a gentle kiss?” he asked. His pecks felt nice and suddenly they felt tingly again, not just the one he was gently caressing with his lips, but both of them. I leant further over to direct my other nipple to his lips and tongue. He cuddled into me and I could feel him hard against my leg. I reached down to stroke him “your still hard” I giggled. “I think it’s numbness though” he said. I lifted the bedclothes off him and slid down kissing his chest and tummy and then nuzzling into his warmth again. I do like feeling him inside my mouth. Then I can feel his thickness, and now he tasted lovely. Not salty, or sweaty, or spermy, but warm and nice and . . . well . . . sweet. And he WAS hard again!

I adjusted my position to swivel round on the bed so that I was facing his knees and he was muzzling into my own lips, his tongue flicking at me as mine flicked and swirled and sucked at him. It’s not my favourite position, I just can’t concentrate on doing two things at once, but he was begging that he wanted to kiss my smoothness and taste me again. I could feel that it was actually me that was feeling a bit numb, but I could tell from his reactions and hearing his moans again, that he was enjoying the attention I was paying to his willy. I was holding his sacs just gently in my fingers but stroking him up and down on his cock with deep and wet sucking and then licking. I heard him gasp out that he was coming, and pulled away to hold him against his tummy and watch him shooting out little spurts. He’d pulled his head away from me as he’d shuddered and spurted, but after a few more groans as I wiped him with my hands over his tummy and then around his balls and up between his legs, he gripped me by my hips again and pulled me back onto him. “No that’s enough now” I told him. Pulling myself away from his face and sitting up and then turning back up the bed to cuddle into him again. “You’ve used me all up, I can’t do anymore” I told him.

I pulled the bedcovers back over us and we lay and cuddled again . . . eventually, and inevitably, the conversation turning back to work and current campaigns. Then we heard my phone alarm buzzing in the living room. He got up to go out to turn it off, but I got out of the bed behind him, stopping to pick-up my stockings and suspenders, and followed him. “You could stay you know” he said as he handed me my handbag and I searched for my phone. “I know I could, but I can’t . . . You know that as well”.
“One day perhaps?” he asked.
“Perhaps” I kissed him a reply.

It’s often difficult ending the night when I’m with S, but actually with V, it’s all very easy and quick. And I never feel guilty or awkward. He always offers me coffee (I always sip more wine), whilst he calls a cab and I get dressed. And the cab always seems to arrive in minutes. We kiss quick goodbyes and, seemingly before I know it, I’m crossing the river (that tangible divide between his world and mine!) and am half way home.

J was waiting for me, naked on the sofa, with just the corner lamp on . . . and a glass on the side table. “Well, have you been naughty?” he grinned. “Yes . . . very, very naughty!!” I sighed as I collapsed onto his lap.

Best wishes - EDITH