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 . . . !!!

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 !!!

News from the Gym !!!

J and I had our normal session at the gym this morning and in chatting more to my new friend it seems she HAS been “seeing” R.

I’d noticed during our last few visits that she wasn’t so overtly and constantly by his side as she had been when she had first joined a few months ago. At that time I had felt that she was embarrassing and cloying, but as we’ve since begun to chat with each other a little more recently, she is actually quite nice and it just seems to be her natural personality to be quite bubbly and outgoing with everybody.

This morning we were next to each other and watching R helping a new member. She noticed me looking . . . and so I nervously giggled “nice body”. She nodded her agreement and whispered to me that she’d been having his one-to-one classes at home. (He does private personal training as well as working at the gym.) I feigned surprise and asked “Oh, what SORT of one-to-one?” Although she didn’t actually say it in so many words, I could tell from her cheeky expression, and the insinuations in the tone of her laughing answer, that she meant more than just the normal exercise routines we were doing now.

“Is he good?” I asked her . . . “Fantastic” was her giggly reply. Their personal chemistry is obviously more compatible, or combustible, than I had experienced in my liaison with R . . . or perhaps her situation just allows it to be more so (she is divorced and has no children, and is at least 10 years younger than me). I made no mention of knowing him in any other way than just here at the gym . . . and obviously he’d made no mention of me.

When I recounted the conversation to J on our way home, he wanted to know if I felt jealous . . . but actually, although I am envious of her figure, and of her personality, I don’t feel any sense of jealousy about her relationship with R at all. In fact, I felt almost a sense of release in a way. My very short time with him that afternoon had been just a spur of the moment rush of fun . . . now that I know (or am fairly certain) that he is “seeing” someone else, I feel a sense of confirmation and relief that I know I could never “indulge” with him again.

Fun to have done it, fun to remember it . . . and good to file it away as a naughty, one-off, adventure. And also, rather surprisingly, I came away this morning thinking she is actually quite a nice person.

Best wishes - Edith

Disappointments and embarrassments

I’d had a lovely weekend with J, and started the week really looking forward to the evening with S that we’d planned two weeks ago. But as the week unfolded one event after another seemed to dent my confidence and enthusiasm. Thursday seemed to arrive in a flash, and with such a lot of questions and things going on, I left the office feeling drained and exhausted and without my usual tingles of anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see S, in fact as I sat in the cab on the way to our normal restaurant, I was actually wanting someone to talk to and confide in, but I just knew I wasn’t feeling in the sort of mood that he would want me to be in.

The staff at our Italian know us so well now . . . I’m sure they assume us to be a local couple enjoying a regular meal out . . . we had our usual table, and our usual bottle of white. I know I spent the entire meal gushing out all my troubles and uncertainties of the past few days. S is such a good listener . . . and such a good friend . . . and it was just so relieving to be able to pour it all out. Of course, I’d had the same ramblings and discussions at home with J over the past two evenings (and mornings), but it is different . . . and somehow, sometimes, more rewarding . . . to talk about things with somebody other than those closest to you. Just having someone else to confide in, and ask advice of, seems to make things (if only temporarily, or for a short time) clearer and less worrying and less of a burden.

We both picked at our meal, and seemingly without noticing, I had emptied the whole bottle of wine . . . S was driving and laughingly offered me his only half-sipped-at glass that he’d started the meal with. As we walked arm-in-arm to his car I remember apologising that I was “a little tipsy”. As we walked into our room I began undressing immediately and pulling back the bed covers. S followed me across the room and asked if I didn’t want to shower first. I remember telling him I needed “cuddles and just want you to talk to me more and tell me what I should do” . . .

. . . I slept for two hours. He’d initially tried to stop me dozing-off and stroking and shaking me, but I’d sworn at him and insisted he just “cuddle me”. Apparently I told him I wasn’t “a machine” and “can’t be switched on and off at will”. Embarrassingly, I can’t remember saying any of these things, but J told me later I’ve often said exactly the same things to him !!!

I CAN remember feeling that refreshing, relaxing, starched-clean feeling you get from laying down on fresh-hotel-sheets. And I can remember feeling his stroking hands on my back and shoulders, and hearing his soft whispering voice behind me.

When I woke-up I felt that sudden embarrassment and panic that I’d made a fool of myself and let him down again (I’d once done something similar with him before). I snuggled into him and kissed his chest and then up to kiss him as passionately as I could, whispering my apologies and reaching down to stroke his willy. But he was quite soft, and although returning my kisses, told me it was late and we had to be going home . . .

We travelled home with me trying to break the awkward silences by repeating my apologies and with him responding that he wasn’t upset, and knew that I’d had a lot on my mind. We parked on the corner . . . I told him I didn’t want to get out. He laughed and said “we can hardly go back now can we”. I felt myself getting upset and tearful, worried that, despite his assurances to the contrary, perhaps he really was as annoyed as I felt he had every right to be. I was kissing him again and apologising still when he reminded me where we were. He shook me by my shoulders telling me again that he wasn’t upset. Then, as if to further re-assure me, he started saying things that we’d always agreed we could never say to each other. I had to put my hand over his mouth to stop him . . . I got out telling him I would call him, looking back through the window, knowing we couldn’t speak until the morning on our way to work, knowing as well . . . as I walked along the pavement to my door . . . that sitting on a bus, talking into a mobile, just wasn’t going to be how I wanted to have a conversation.

I walked into the front room to find J waiting for me, in his usual place, naked on the sofa . . . he could tell straight away though that I wasn’t in the mood I would normally be on returning from an “evening out”. I ended the evening as I’d begun it, cuddling in my man’s arms, but this time worrying about how I’d let S down, how he’d booked a meal and a room and all he’d been rewarded with was me off-loading all my office problems . . . and then falling into a deep sleep!!!

Even though it is half-term for the schools and much less traffic, the journey into work yesterday morning seemed to take forever. I was holding my phone in my hand for the whole journey waiting for it to ring. It wasn’t until I had gotten off the bus and was walking along the street that he finally called. I stepped into a doorway, gushing out how happy I was to hear his voice, refusing his claims that I hadn’t “let him down” and promising him over and over that “I’ll make it up I promise . . . !!!”

Feeling naughty . . . and the house to ourselves!!!

We had our normal Saturday morning session at the Gym yesterday. J was teasing me on the way there, and all through our session, about enrolling for R’s new “One-on-one Personal Training Programmes” that he’d been advertising to everyone on the past two weekends.

Even though I was doing my best to ignore his teases, it was making me feel ever so naughty. J had asked him last week if he’d been “training” the new woman that had been coming along over the past two months, but he’d just laughed J’s question off without giving a definitive reply. She was there again yesterday though, but wasn’t quite so much by his side for every minute whilst we were there. We exchanged a few brief pleasantries and she actually seems quite nice . . .

. . . all of which just made me feel naughtier and naughtier for the rest of the morning.

J was obviously enjoying my mood and even offered to accompany me on the shopping (which he hardly ever does!!!). As he followed me around the aisles at Waitrose, we both continued to tease each other about having the house to ourselves that evening as our daughter was going out with friends. We get so little “free” time alone anymore, it was going to be fun just to be able to walk around the house naked and play our little games together without fear of being interrupted.

And so we did . . . a lovely long soak in the bath, movies on our upstairs TV, more teasing and arousing each other with talk of R’s “one-on-one sessions”, nice wine . . . only for me as J had to get-up just after midnight to go out and pick our daughter up from the Station. I enjoyed teasing him that I normally have my phone alarm set to tell my lover that it’s time for me to get-up to go home!!! I playfully pulled at him and threw back the duvet to show him how he was leaving me . . .

He staggered around the bedroom getting dressed, saying he could hardly walk straight because I’d exhausted him so much!! I told him “I’ll give you a nice reward when you get back”.

Lovely evening . . . and so wonderful to still have such lovely times together.


Best wishes - Edith
http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithsdiary

Thursday Evening with S . . .

After our last meeting early in September, S and I had set a date two weeks ago to meet again on Thursday evening. I’d booked a new hair and waxing session two days earlier and was excited about showing off my new look. Occasionally in the past I’ve teasingly texted him that I’d been “freshly waxed” but I’d so enjoyed surprising J on Tuesday evening, that I’d decided to surprise S as well.

As my work colleagues finished for the day I freshened-up and changed from my office clothes in the washroom and began to feel those little flutters of excitement and nervousness I always get when I’m preparing for an evening out. I’d brought in the necklace S had given me at our last meeting, along with some earrings from one of his previous gifts. I texted him from the taxi to say I was on my way, and then messaged J as well to say I’d left the office. His reply came back almost straight-away to “Be good and be bad. Will be waiting up for you”.

S was waiting for me at our normal pasta bar. His smile and welcoming, “wow, sensational”, was followed by a gentle kiss and embrace. Conversation during the meal was mainly about how the children had been settling-in, and our respective family plans for Christmas (yes, I know, already!!!!) It wasn’t until we were walking, hand-in-hand, back to the car that S asked if my haircut was the only thing I’d had trimmed. I squeezed him and kissed his cheek with a “you’ll have to wait and see won’t you!”.

Our polite kisses and touches in the bar, and on our way to the car, immediately turned to much more passionate embraces and fondles as soon as we closed the door to our room. He quickly unbuttoned my blouse and was leaning forward and licking at my nipples whilst we stood leaning against the wall, just inside the door. I’d tried to start undoing his tie, but he pulled away and was already slipping my skirt down and dropping down onto his knees in front of me. He gasped “I love it” and began kissing and flicking at me and I found myself opening my legs for him as he gently pulled at my knees. I reached down to lift his head away for a moment to tell him we had to shower. He looked up pleading “we don’t really need to do we?” But I know when I just HAVE to shower and told him that “I need to shower otherwise I won’t feel comfortable”.

He stood up and let me step away from my clothes and bag . . . we were still just inside the door of our room . . . I was completely naked and he was still fully clothed! I was enjoying his kisses and complements but just felt I really did NEED to clean properly.

S started the shower whilst I moved my clothes to a more tidy position on the chair in the main room. As I joined him back in the bathroom he quickly undressed as well and then stepped in behind me to start soaping my back for me. Standing in the bath together, under the shower head, we were soon embracing again and soaping each other and I could feel his erection rubbing against my thigh and then my pussy as he turned me round to face him.

We towelled each other dry and kissed and fondled our way into the main room and over to the bed. He laid me down on my back asking “let me look at it”. His kisses and then the feeling of his tongue sliding over and around me was just wonderful. I pulled myself further back onto the bed, spreading my legs as wide apart as I could for him. He knelt up beside me and reached up to pull a pillow out from under the bed cover. I lifted my hips upwards to let him slide it under my bottom and then heard myself moaning loudly as he slid his tongue further around me again. I was loving feeling his tongue pushing and probing . . . and loving hearing him tell me how “smooth and sweet” it was. His fingers started following his tongue, pinching and rubbing at my clit. My nipples felt like they were bursting and I started squeezing them for him, as he looked up at me, showing him how hard and erect they were.

I closed my eyes again and arched my back and bottom more up off the pillow as I felt his fingers pushing inside and his lips sucking at me. I was urging him to “eat it, eat me”. He would lift away and slide his tongue down further and probe and push, his fingers still sliding in and out of my pussy. I could hear myself moaning louder and louder, but being on my back I wasn’t able to muffle my moans into the pillow or bed as I normally would. As his fingers continued thrusting and his lips and tongue flicking and pushing, I could feel myself letting go completely and reaching down to grip his wrist tightly. When it came it was with loud gasps and shudders and I rolled over off the pillow towards him, pulling his hand away and squashing over on top of him until he pulled himself out from under me. I stretched out my legs and buried my face onto the bed cover, rocking back and forth for a few moments until I could turn more onto my side and let out a whispered request for him to “cuddle me”.

I awoke to him shaking my shoulders gently, and kissing my neck and ear. I let him roll me over onto my back and continue his kisses. He asked if it had been nice for me, and I nodded telling him I’d been needing it and thinking about it all day (all week actually!!). I was completely awake now as he was kissing at my boobs and down to my tummy. He teased me that I’d been “quite loud” and I told him it was his fault as he’d had me on my back and I hadn’t been able to muffle myself. He was sitting up on one elbow next to me and leant over to suck on my nearest nipple. But his sucking was much too hard and I pulled away, snapping that it was sensitive and he was being too rough. “You normally tell me to suck hard” he replied, but I told him that he could only do that when I asked him to, and certainly not just after I’d come. He laughed that I’d “slept for almost an hour”, so I hadn’t ‘only just’ come. “It couldn’t have been an hour” I snapped back in disbelief and playfully slapped at his erection which was bobbing around by my tummy. He gasped and strained forward, so I slapped at it again . . . giggling as it swung from side to side with my slap. He was groaning more, so I sat up and slapped at it again. “You like that don’t you?” I said as this time I smacked more forcefully down on his sacs, rather than the tip of his willy. He winced, but leant back with both his hands behind him and lifted his hips towards me more, nodding and gasping “yes”, as I slapped at him again. I was enjoying my new found teasing and smacked down on him again as he opened his legs wider and lifted up again. His gasp sounded a little less pleasurable this time, so I gripped his cock and leant forward to first kiss the head “better” . . . and then slide my mouth down over him to suck him into me. I’d lift my mouth away and slap at him again, and then lean forward to suck down on him again.

He was gasping and groaning and then sat up again to kiss me quite passionately and then push me by my shoulders back down onto the bed. He slid down my tummy opening my legs and flicking at me again with his tongue. “No, I’m doing you” I protested, but instead of letting me sit back up and reach out for him, he turned me over onto my tummy and started kissing my bum cheeks. I resisted at first, but his tongue felt nice sliding down between my cheeks, and then when he lifted me up onto my knees . . .

I could feel his breath and hear his gasps as his tongue continued sliding up and down and pushing at me. As his hands reached up around the front of my legs and his fingers began to play with my pussy again I could hear my gasps beginning to match his own. He got up off the bed and I looked round over my shoulder to see him turn back from his jacket draped over the chair, and step back towards me, squirting the gel over his erection. I closed my eyes waiting to feel that first cold splash of the gel on my bottom. I jumped from the feeling, even though I knew it was coming . . . and then surrendered to his fingers slipping and sliding and pushing over me.

This time I could bury my face into the pillow to muffle my groans, but I could still clearly hear my gasps as I felt that first stretching sensation and I pushed back against him. He was holding me by my hips and almost standing up on the bed over me. “You’re riding me” I gasped out, surprised that he was actually being quite fast and quite aggressive. I couldn’t properly hear his reply . . . it was more a groaning gasping rather than intelligible words. He is normally very calm and gentle when we are like this together, but now he was pushing, and straining, more quickly than I could ever remember him being before. I couldn’t concentrate properly as he continued thrusting and then as he suddenly started shaking and leaning forward onto my back, I knew he was coming. He relaxed his grip on my hips and instead fell forward onto me and I collapsed down onto my tummy, gasping in discomfort and then relief as I felt it pulling out. He was laying completely on top of me, gasping with short sharp breaths and squeezing my shoulders with both his hands. We both lay still for several minutes, (I didn’t want to feel that I was spoiling his sensations) before I felt that I could whisper “you’re squashing me”. He apologised and slid down off me onto his tummy beside me. We lay without speaking for some time . . . Eventually turning over on our sides and cuddling into each other. I told him I couldn’t remember him ever being so carried away before, and he replied that my slapping and smacking had got him worked up and made him feel like he needed to “explode”.

We continued lying together and making whispered conversation until the beeping of my phone alarm signalled that we had to think about getting up to go home. I got up to find my phone and turn off the reminder . . . and felt squelchy and slippery between my legs as I walked over to my bag. “You’ve made me dribble” I said to him . . . and I had to walk round to the bathroom to find a towel. I returned to the bed to point in horror at the large damp patch on the bed cover as well. We hadn’t pulled back the sheets from the bed, and the dark red fabric of the cover looked even darker now with quite a large tell-tale circle of damp. We decided we’d have to leave a damp towel strategically placed over the spot!

As S dressed, I gathered my skirt and blouse and pushed them into my bag. “Aren’t you getting dressed?” S asked. I replied, “I promised J that I’d come home in just my coat”. And then asked a little sheepishly “you don’t mind do you?” He laughed and said “only if you take it off in the car on the way home”. I told him it was now too cold in the evening to do that and “anyway, haven’t I been naughty enough for you tonight?”

There certainly was a chill in the air as we stepped out into the hotel car park, and S had to wipe the condensation off the windows whilst I sat in the car with the heater turned on full. As we drove along the North Circular he teased me, “just for a mile or so”, “no-one will see”, “you can pull it on again at the traffic lights”. The heater had warmed up the car quite quickly, so I told him I would pull my coat down off my shoulders “just until we reach the turn-off”. I could feel my nipples were really hard again and I had to brush his hand away several times and tell him to concentrate on his driving or “I’ll put them away”.

As we parked on the corner, I knew he would want our kisses to be longer than normal so I had to put my finger on his lips and tell him “behave, I have to go”. We thanked each other for a lovely evening and as usual he waited until I’d reached my gate before he drove away.

J was sitting naked on the sofa when I walked into the front room. He stood up to offer me a glass of wine . . . and leant forward to kiss my breasts as I opened my coat and let it drop to the floor. “Mmm, you smell sweaty” he said as I squeezed into him and slid my hands around the back of his neck. “Yes . . . and probably slippery and spermy as well” I answered as I pushed him back down onto the sofa.

Best wishes - Edith
http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithsdiary