[Short Story] A Sick Play

Start your Day today with a whole new Short Story……….

Slut or Samaritan

Sunita gazed into the long bedroom mirror, turning in profile to survey her hips and bum before smoothing down the cotton skirt. Swivelling around, the hem rode halfway up her angular thighs. Reaching up, a smear of pink lipstick defined a heart-shaped pout. The unlikely coupling of a Scandinavian businessman and an Indian beauty queen 25 years ago had produced a paradoxical yet dazzling cocktail in which coffee coloured silken skin contrasted piercing blue eyes and a thick mane of golden hair.

“Damn it, Suni, I’ve nothing to wear again,” echoed the voice from the landing.

Hurriedly Sunita tugged down the t-shirt over her heaving bosom, forgetting that she had still to put on a bra as Louise stepped uninvited into the room. 5 years Sunita’s junior, Louise was a stereotypical hard-up student whose food and clothing budget seemed to be constantly stretched by a regime of non-stop partying. Stood unashamedly in the doorway in jeans and bra, the pretty brunette bemoaned a lack of going-out attire, her hazel eyes appealing to Sunita’s better nature.

Sunita issued a mock rebuke before reaching inside the wardrobe and extracting two hangers. “Okay, silky white or strappy blue?” enquired Sunita.

With a gushing smile Louise unclasped the turquoise top and shimmied into it. “Mmmmm, you are soooo my size,” she cooed. “Taxi’s on its way.”

Louise and her boyfriend Adam had shared Sunita’s house for almost a year ago now and, apart from the constant drain on her wardrobe, they were good, reliable lodgers. Well their parents’ were reliable, the rent cheques always on time. Not that Sunita needed the extra income, what with the small fortune bequeathed to her after her mother was killed in a car smash and her distraught father took his own life shortly after. Once the grief had finally dissipated, left in a dreadfully lonely state, it made sense to take in a couple of lodgers, if only for the company.

And with financial security assured, Sunita had little need to work. Yet she had no wish to become a hermit either which was how she came to embark upon some part time voluntary work, three nights a week offering counselling skills gained from bitter personal experience at the local Samaritans. Being exam time in a predominantly student orientated town, she found herself stretched, though in a rewarding manner. In a perverse way, speaking to these desperate people helped Sunita come to terms with her own grievance.

So, whilst Adam and Louise were propping up the bar of the Golden Fleece, Sunita provided a caring ear.

Gathering up her handbag, Sunita was struck by a deliciously salacious thought. Reaching inside the skirt, her thumbs hooked the sides of the panties, easing them down her thighs and off. “Oh Sunita, what is happening to you?” she mouthed rhetorically.

“I don’t know how you do it,” said Louise, for perhaps the billionth time, as they stepped into the taxi, “spending all Friday night listening to a bunch of losers!”

“If I stop one person doing something stupid it has to be worth it, doesn’t it?” countered Sunita.

Louise curled her lip, evidently deficient of the caring gene that motivated the older girl. Though recently, the agenda had changed somewhat radically, Sunita’s motivation coming from a different source. It was a secret she kept from her lodgers, filling Sunita in turns with a raw excitement and blind fear.

‘Paul’ had first called the previous Monday. A normal sounding guy, he had a problem he confessed, one that had prompted suicidal feelings. Sunita adopted a sympathetic face and tone and urged him to continue, not for one moment realising how, in a short space of time, Paul would turn her insular world on its head. The usual pause followed as he assessed the situation and searched for the courage, whilst Sunita waited patiently, the phone balanced between chin and shoulder.

After a deep breath, Paul started to unburden. And unburden he did. But for her dark complexion, Sunita’s face would surely have turned a ghostly white, the uncanny parallels between their two lives causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand to attention, her heart to beat at double speed. Paul, it seemed, had also lost both parents at a young age and inherited a house that was just too big for one. But then he’d met a wonderful girl and everything looked rosy for a short time. That was until she dumped him for his best friend, two for the price of one. The quadruple loss had driven him to the precipice.

Sunita offered heartfelt condolences, but it was what followed that would set in motion a very bizarre chain of events.

Like Sunita, Paul had subsequently taken in student lodgers: only these were three vivacious girls. Sunita laughed, trying to inject some humour into the grave proceedings, joking that she couldn’t possibly understand the problem in that.

Paul hesitated as if unsure then suddenly the line went dead.

Sunita thought little more of it until the following Wednesday when she was back in the Samaritan’s office and Paul chose to call once more. He sounded pleased to have found her again, apologising for his prior rudeness and promising to be more candid this time. And was he!

Sunita’s big blue eyes bulged as he confided his unrequited love – or was that lust – for these girls, and how the madness had driven him to drill strategically placed spyholes around the house to watch them through. Shocked into silence, Sunita wasn’t sure whether to offer advice or to call the police. Yet, at the same time, she found herself uncomfortably intrigued – and aroused.

But just as it was hotting up, again Paul ended the call prematurely.

Sunita wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived for duty the following Friday night, exactly one week ago. Sometimes it seemed longer, sometimes shorter, such was the mess her head had gotten itself into since. A part of her wanted this clearly unhinged man to keep his grubby confessions to himself, whilst the other part yearned to hear more. Paul was not to disappoint, though this time he came through via her team leader, Brian, requesting to transfer the call. “He only wants to speak to you…”

Sunita could feel his eyes burning into her, shifting in her chair so that no one around could overhear her easily. “Hi again…Paul?”

Paul affirmed sheepishly, again offering apologies for past rudeness. Sunita asserted that it was okay and mused whether there was anything he wished to add. After a pause, Paul croaked: “You think I’m a pervert, don’t you?”

Sunita’s silence elicited nervous laughs from both. Gaining mettle Paul launched into full confessional mode. “I did something today I’m really ashamed of…I spied on Fiona in the shower…she’s the redhead.”

Sunita’s heart rate upped a notch, amid a hybrid of revulsion and curiosity, akin to watching a horror movie. Yet there was no denying the feeling in her loins. They were on fire. Unfortunately – or fortunately perhaps – that particular night she’d put on a pair of jeans that effectively acted as a modern day chastity belt. Nonetheless, Paul’s words as he described Fiona’s body and how he’d masturbated intensely stirred deep passion within Sunita without digital stimulation and she arrived home with a drenched gusset.

Adam and Louise had been drinking heavily all day and came back shortly after, heading straight to bed. Downstairs, the ceiling rocked and Louise’s lustful whimpers just audible above the muted television filled Sunita’s ears. She found herself drawn almost unconsciously to their bedroom door, thoughts of Paul and his kinks filling her head. Damn Sunita, she said to herself, you’re as bad as him.

An ear pressed snugly to the door, Sunita could hear every thrust of Adam’s strong body into Louise’s submissive young frame, his grunts echoing her groans. Her fingers having somehow found their way to her crotch, Sunita’s other hand hovered over the door handle, before the screams of orgasmic ecstasy had her scuttling off down the landing.

Stripping down quickly to bra and panties in front of the long mirror, a huge damp spot marked the line of her swollen labia. “Oh my, Sunita,” she sighed, teeth sinking into her lower lip.

Feeling down, the panties eased to her knees to reveal a generous thatch of golden pubes set against the coffee coloured flesh, and prompting a show of narcissism. Taking a bra-clad breast in hand and chafing the bullet hard nipple against the lace finish with an urgent fingertip, Sunita moaned wantonly before plunging two fingers deep inside her moist cunt. “Oh God Paul, what have you done to me?” she groaned, very nearly piercing her bottom lip as her teeth bit down violently. “Oh Goddddddd…”

Working furiously, Sunita’s clit went into uncontrollable spasm, her head swimming. As her fingers withdrew, the most incredible thing happened: her pussy squirted a length of juice that splashed the mirror, the orgasm as intense as any conferred by an ex-boyfriend, more so perhaps. “Oh my God…”

The weekend passed in a blur and ironically she couldn’t wait for Monday to arrive. Drawn into this hedonistic existence, all rational thought had been expelled. Sadly, Paul was unwilling or unable to reciprocate and she arrived home early and in unusually low spirits. Immediate revival came via the rattle of the ceiling light and the feint dispersal of dust into the air.

Better was to follow. Evidently not expecting her home yet, the lovers had left the door slightly ajar, a spillage of dim light through the crack. Heart pounding, Sunita crept closer. Regrettably they were immersed beneath the covers and all she could make out was the rising and falling of Adam’s buttocks. More vocal than before, undoubtedly on account of believing they were alone, their panting and exchange of expletives soon had Sunita reaching for her crotch. Strategically clad in string tied jogging bottoms – a sign that she was learning the ways of the voyeur – soon they were in a pool at her feet as Sunita frigged herself silly.

Scuttling along to her room before she squirted, the orgasm ripped through her body with the intensity of a hurricane. Yet Sunita craved move. Much more.

Tuesday barely registered and Wednesday arrived with the thrill of a birthday or Christmas Day. He had to ring in…he had to. The tease made her wait three damned hours, by which time – and fortuitously so – half of her colleagues had departed.

“Hi,” Paul replied breathlessly and almost inaudibly.

“Are you okay, Paul?”

“Yes, I am,” he whispered back.

“Paul, you’re going to have to speak up, I can barely hear you.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh?”

“I’m up against the wall looking through the hole into Jo’s room.”

Sunita’s heart skipped a beat. “Which one’s Jo?”

“The big-titted blonde…she’s bought a guy back home.”

Sunita felt her thighs slide part. “Paul, don’t…”

“You know you want me too, Sunita…”

Her half hearted protests stifled by her internal hunger, any resistance was futile.

“They’re just kissing at the moment,” reported Paul in hushed tones.

“And what are YOU doing?” she giggled.

She could picture Paul’s grin as she became as embroiled in the illicit scene as he was. “I’m just stroking it – gently.”

His little gasps punctuated the silence that followed, before Sunita gained the courage to play along. “Tell me what it looks like,” she prompted breathlessly, glancing around to ensure no one was looking her way.

Thankfully all but the team leader Brian were engrossed in their own conversations, on what was a busy night, though she could not deny that the thrill of being caught added a real edge. Brian occasionally looked her way but there was nothing in his demeanour to suggest Sunita had been rumbled.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, she said to herself, legs spread and rubbing her pussy through her panties. Suddenly Brian, brushed by, mere feet away and Sunita felt herself blush so deeply it must surely have shown through the dusky complexion. Brian issued a smile, prompting Sunita to wonder whether he did know her secret – or whether he’d like to. The thought made her hotter yet, particular since he was a handsome man for someone nearing retirement age. God, in the space of a week and a half she been transformed from a naïve innocent into a wanton slut.

Suddenly Paul dragged her back into his sordid world. “My cock? Mmmmmmm, it’s about 6 inches long, pretty average length,” Paul confided, “though it’s really nice and thick.”

“Oh yeah,” breathed Sunita, wanting to cum so hard yet not wanting to. “Would it stretch my tight little pussy?”

“Oh it would,” enthused Paul, emitting a low growl. “The head is all purple and bulbous…Oh wow…”

“What? Tell me?”

“Next door, he’s helping her out of her shirt.”

Sunita could hear quite audibly the slap of flesh as Paul’s fist eagerly worked his big fat tool. “Oh Jesus Sunita, he has her massive tits in his hands and he’s sucking her nipples.”

Once more Sunita’s bottom lip came under attack from her incisors as she fought to regulate her breathing. Three digits worked tirelessly back and forth over her clit, a gooey puddle forming on the chair. Yet, despite Brian’s sly glances her way she had gone way past the point of no return. Paul’s voiced upped a pitch as he imparted: “Now she has his cock out…Mmmmmmmm, I think she’s going to give him a blowjob. Oh Jo, you dirty little slut,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Sunita visualised the scene borne of Paul’s lucid commentary, imagining the young female student’s blonde hair brushing her boyfriend’s thighs like a veil as she sucked eagerly. Her clit could barely take any more. “Oh she’s plunging up and down like a real slut,” gasped Paul, evidently close as well.

“Oh ohhhhhhh,” moaned Sunita, a little too loudly as a fingernail scraped her clit.

Once more Brian’s eyes came to rest on hers from across the room as Sunita battled to straighten her face.

“Oh yesssssss, he’s going to cum on her tits,” commentated Paul. “Oh Jesus, I’m cumming tooooooo.”

Sunita swore she could hear the ejaculation, a gush of hot seed from Paul’s thick cock, before suddenly she was engulfed in her own climax, clamping her legs shut so as not to squirt all over the carpet. Brian was staring now, quite blantantly, his eyes unerring. Sunita issued a friendly smile before enquiring in a whisper: “Paul, are you still there?”

But he’d called off.

That Friday morning, Sunita had an idea that confirmed her descent into the depravity of mentor Paul. With all the books she owned, a bookshelf was needed. The wooden structure took on hour to erect, Sunita standing back and rubbing her hands together as she admired her handiwork. “Oops,” she giggled as the drill bit bore an extra hole in the wall, all the way through. Blowing away the debris she pressed her eye in, a perfect view over Adam and Louise’s bed. The very thought made her wet.

Friday promised so much. Even if Paul failed to report in, her panty and bra-less surprise for Brian and a drunken Adam and Louise engaged in their usual end-of-week antics, augured well.

“Have fun,” called Louise sarcastically as Sunita stepped from the taxi.

Little did she realise how much fun Sunita was about to have.

Sunita climbed into the back seat of the taxi next to Louise and immediately felt the eyes of the driver bore into her from the rear view mirror. A rush of cool air had caused her free riding breasts to go all goose-pimply and the hard nipples to press the close-fitting t-shirt forming a horizontal ridge. And despite tugging down the tiny skirt, teasingly it rode up to the tops of her thighs to reveal a pair of the shapeliest dusky legs beautifully complimented by black leather heeled boots. With no panties to protect her modesty, a whole evening lay ahead under the appreciative gaze of supervisor Brian, a thought that filled Sunita with a mix of abject horror and raw excitement.

Even Adam who, for as long as he’d lodged at Sunita’s had been immune to her charms, was drawn to the rear view mirror, unable to keep his eyes from darting up, then away again quickly before he was caught. With less subtlety, the stubble faced, greasy haired cab driver feasted upon Sunita’s body, prompting fantasies of what might have been had Adam taken the front passenger seat. Surely the cabbie would have been unable to resist reaching over and running a hand up her inner thighs and into the hot, wet pussy at the apex. And what if she’d been in the cab alone? Sunita bit her lip, feeling the first stirring of lust, evidenced by a magical tingle in her loins.

Shifting slightly, her Amazonian body quivered, fulsome breasts heaving against the cotton. The cabbie was perspiring virulently, a lustful grin on his dirty face. Sunita pursed her lips, piling on the tension in his grin. Oh how she could rip that big thick cock from his jeans and impale herself upon it.

Then a wicked thought struck Sunita: Adam and Louise would be alighting a mile before her and she would be left alone with the horny cabbie. As the pair jumped out at the pub, Sunita leaned over, issuing fresh directions, her scent flooding his nostrils and eliciting a huge breath.

Seizing the short opportunity, Sunita allowed her thighs to part an inch or two…then an inch more…then yet more. But for the strain on the tight skirt, her pussy would be fully exposed. As it was, just a teasing flash of blonde thatch was displayed. Yet it was sufficient to prompt the cabbie to risk his livelihood and their lives, one hand lifting from the steering wheel. Re-adjusting her position, Sunita glimpsed the swollen purple tip, gazing intently as the thick foreskin was drawn over the bulbous red head. In a matter of strokes, he grunted, a rope of thick cum splashing the dashboard. Sunita grinned inwardly as she climbed out, the fare waived.

The Samaritans’ office was two flights of stairs above a row of shops. As Sunita keyed in the security code, she was joined at the door by Brian, fresh from a cigarette break. Immediately her racing pulse brought a flush to her skin that was thankfully camouflaged by its coffee coloured hue. “After you,” smiled the fifty-something supervisor, the swish of his hand brushing her bum.

Sunita skipped three steps ahead, that luscious butt roughly at face height. With each stride the skirt rode up higher until no more than the very top of her thigh was covered. That she was wearing no panties could not have escaped Brian. As her arse cheeks wiggled seductively, a deep sigh of lust ejected forcibly from Brian’s lips, a rush of air warming her upper thighs and pussy. Over her shoulder she made small talk, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Brian’s replies came through gritted teeth at an unnaturally high pitch. Rounding the corner to the second flight, ‘inadvertently’ Sunita pulled up sharply. With his longer strides, Brian was unable to stop in time, a rear end collision unavoidable. Sunita felt an unmistakeable bulge brush her arse, amid flustered apologies. Uncoupling, Brian marched on ahead and into the office, leaving Sunita with an impish grin.

The first hour dragged by without event, punctuated by half a dozen calls of varying degree of unimportance. Anxious to keep the line clear for Paul, Sunita gave the callers short shrift. Brian was especially fidgety, using any excuse to pass her desk, all subtlety seemingly abandoned in the pursuit of primeval lust. Almost subconsciously, she’d rise to grab something from a high shelf, providing Brian with a lingering look over her long legs, the tension building like an overloaded pressure valve in his loins.

When Brian rose agitatedly from his seat, an erection clearly visible at his middle, Sunita decided it was time to step things up a notch. As he sashayed across the office like a man on a mission, she followed into the corridor at a safe distance. As he disappeared inside the toilet, she managed to catch the door before it swung shut, glancing around furtively before squeezing through. “Oh Jesus,” resonated the almost pained sigh from inside one of the cubicles.

Sunita grinned, the threat of being caught inside the men’s loo adding to the immense thrill. The jingle of coins as Brian’s trousers fell to pool around his ankles caused her pussy to throb uncontrollably. He had his cock out and it was all on her account. “Oh fuck, yesssssss,” groaned the closeted Brian, prompting Sunita to visualise a hand wrapped around his cock and starting to tug. “Oh yes, oh yesssssss, oh yes you dirty little fucking slut of a girl.”

A stream of abuse, peppered liberally with ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘fuck’ spilled from the cubicle and Sunita felt her face warm. In the months she’d worked for the Samaritans, Brian hadn’t even issued a minor expletive. Yet here he was calling her every name under the sun. Just like the cab driver who’d fallen totally under her spell, he must have been driven half-crazed with desire, illustrated when, on the twelth stroke of his cock, an enormous grunt of pleasure radiated through the cubicle door. Sunita pictured the wad of thick cum splashing the door, his fist milking each new deposit. It was hard to resist the urge to touch her pussy, yet that would be like opening one’s presents before Christmas Day. As Brian busily unravelled the paper to clean up his mess, Sunita made herself scarce.

Back at her desk, the phone kept Sunita busy for the next hour whilst Brian’s welcome bout of relief meant less ogling. A shame, for Sunita feasted on the attention, and vice versa. The assortment of middle aged married colleagues, devoutly religious types and do-gooders might have been blind for all the heed they paid to the exhibitionist in their midst. As the clock ticked over into the third hour, Sunita yearned for Paul to call. That damned guy had a lot to answer to for doing this to her.

Another barren hour passed before her cheery greeting of: “Hello Samaritans, Sunita speaking” was met with Paul’s sensuous baritone. Immediately Sunita felt her temperature rise and a hot tingle reverberate around her juice laden cunt. His filthy talk was like an addictive drug. “What are you doing, Paul?” she implored, a finger drawn magnetically to her swollen clit, rubbing in a circle. “Oh my,” she whispered, chewing her bottom lip.

“Hmm, not much at the moment,” came the somewhat anti-climatic response, prompting Sunita to slow her frigging. “Though earlier was fun.”

Sunita’s heart raced. “Oh gosh Paul, please tell me…tell me…”

His teasing pause induced more frustration, before finally he spoke. “First I want you to do something for me.”

“Yes, anything,” she replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

She could tell from the way his breathing sounded that Paul was smiling. “I want you to tell me – and your colleagues – what you are.”

Sunita’s hesitation and flustered questioning was met with the command: “I want you to tell everyone that you’re a dirty little slut, Sunita.”

“Paul! No…”

“Do it Sunita, do it now or I’ll ring off.”

Sunita paused, confused. Yet she was too horny to resist, her mind controlled by this mysterious caller. “I’m a dirty little slut,” she mouthed into the receiver, almost inaudibly.

Paul tutted. “Oh come on Sunita, you can do better than that. Louder.”

“I’m a dirty little slut,” she repeated, the words spoken at normal conversational pitch.

Yet Paul was still far from satisfied. “LOUDER! Or I put the phone down.”

Sunita took in a huge lungful of air before hollering: “I’M A DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!!”

The words caused several colleagues to glance up, odd looks, though assuming they must have misheard. Though she dared not look his way, Sunita could feel Brian’s eyes boring into her like red hot pokers. The effect on her clit was intense, the lips awash with musky scented juice as tentatively she probed. “Oh God, yes you are,” gulped Paul, the words accompanied by the swish of a zip. “You’re making me hard, you dirty little slut.”

“Oh Goddddddd…Now what happened earlier?” she implored breathlessly. “Tell me Paul, please…”

Paul paused, gathering his thoughts. “I was watching Lorna – that’s the goth one – in her room. The other two were out…”

As Sunita’s breathing reverberated in the mouthpiece, with a smile in his voice, Paul continued: “Then the doorbell rang and she returned to her room with a guy. He had his hands all over her tits and she couldn’t wait to get his cock out…”

Sunita licked her lips, easing the weight from her clit to avoid cumming too soon, instead concentrating upon the surface of each nipple through the top, rubbing eagerly and shamelessly, a quick glance over confirming she held Brian’s full attention. The material chafed in a sensuous manner, causing Sunita to suppress a gasp. “The thing is, continued Paul, “this guy with Lorna was Jo’s boyfriend, the one I told you about before. He’s been screwing them both.”

“Oh wow,” breathed Sunita, adoring the twist in the tale as a finger worked tentatively back inside her needy cunt. “Oh my…”

“Hold on a sec,” interrupted Paul, “I think someone’s at the door.”

Sunita grimaced at the interruption, extracting the embedded digit with a slurp of wet cunt. Evidently Paul’s phone had been placed face up on the side, the sound of the room hollow like a lofty church. Sunita drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk, instead of over her clit where they belonged, mentally imploring Paul to return. “Jo?” rang out Paul’s distant sounding voice.

“Oh Paul,” came the tearful reply, followed by a pause and then what sounded like a clench.

Sunita pursed her lips in frustration, exchanging a glance with Brian across the office. Visible only from the chest up, he looked back impassively. Sunita liked to hope that beneath the desk he had his cock in hand once more, stroking for her. The thought made her tingle. “What’s wrong, honey?” echoed Paul’s voice in her ear, compassionate sounding.

An outburst of tears was followed by Jo’s desperate voice. “Dave’s…Dave’s been screwing Lorna behind my back…”

Sunita’s jaw dropped as the drama unfolded on the other end of the line. Jo’s weeping was muted as if her face was buried in Paul’s chest. It was Paul that spoke, his words soothing: “It’s okay, honey…it’s okay.”

“The bastard…” whined the girl. “What has she got that I haven’t?”

Sunita imagined that the time he’d put into spying upon the pair, Paul could tell her exactly what both had, down to the last discreet tattoo and piercing. Such had been the recent obsession with the girls in his charge, shared intimately with Sunita, that both girls’ bodies surely held little mystery. “Nothing…you’re gorgeous,” he assured the sobbing girl.

“Am I?” echoed Jo’s tremulous voice, all girlie.

Sunita visualised the busty blonde standing before Paul, doe eyes appealing, lips pouting and using every feminine wile in the book. “Oh very much so,” gushed Paul. “I’ve always…”

Before the sentence could be completed, the unmistakeable sound of heightened breathing and smacking lips rang out, quickly followed by the impatient tearing off of clothes. Oh my, they’re going to fuck each other, though Sunita, plunging two fingers inside her gaping pussy. Visualising Paul pushing Jo back on the bed, falling on top of her and taking those massive mammories in hand, feeding each perky nipple into his mouth, Sunita pumped at her pussy. “Oh fuck I want you sooooooo bad, Jo,” drooled Paul between sucks.

“Fuck me hard,” ordered the girl, causing Sunita to sigh longingly. “Oh fuck, Paul, your cock is enormous…”

The phone glued to her ear, Sunita rubbed vigorously at her clit, toes digging the carpet. SHE wanted that enormous cock. The urgent slap of flesh and intense groaning suggested the coupling didn’t have long, Sunita’s own orgasm ranging in as she passed the point of no return. “Oh God, oh God, oh Goddddddd,” moaned Sunita.

The double orgasm from the bedroom rang out like a thunderclap, quickly followed by Sunita’s, deliberately stifled and thus making it all the more intense. Eyes crammed tight, front teeth buried in her lip, cum gushed over her fingers, staining the front of her skirt. When her eyes opened, Brian was leering back. Quickly Sunita rushed to the toilet to clean up, glancing over at Brian. Sadly he stayed put, resisting the temptation.

The rest of the evening passed without event, the clock ticking round to eleven. Never alone with Brian, no opportunity arose to take things further. The skeleton nightshift arrived and it was time to go home. “Give you a lift anywhere, Sunita?” Brian enquired.

Oh my God, Sunita, she said to herself, accepting the offer with a blush.

“I know exactly where you want to go,” whispered Brian.

Sunita surveyed him quizzically, her pussy yearning.

Sunita had always stood out from the crowd owing to the combination of coffee-coloured flesh inherited from a pretty Indian mother and a mane of golden hair accountable to a Swedish father. Yet until the age of 25, for reasons known only to Sunita herself, her sexuality had been repressed. However, courtesy of a series of steamy and voyeuristic telephone calls with the mysterious Paul and the interest shown by supervisor Brian, a man over twice her age, the genie was well and truly out of the bottle. As the volunteer worker followed Brian to the car, little did she know how the evening would unfold.

It was that uncertainty, coupled with a recently acquired sluttish abandon that turned on Sunita to such a degree that her cunt was dripping at the thought, a gust of wind brushing her barely covered moist labia, her heart thumping like a metronome.

Sunita climbed in beside the much older man, a slave to his whim. As the inner light flicked on, Brian glanced over, allowing a moment to savour a pair of legs that was almost completely exposed as the short skirt shrank up her thighs. Hooking the seatbelt across her chest, the fullness and curve of Sunita’s expansive bosom was accentuated. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Brian enthused, unable to stop himself reaching aside to press a finger against his passenger’s moist pussy.

“Ohhhhhhh,” groaned Sunita, nostrils flaring, front teeth sinking into her lip as the thick digit parted the soft lush labia, before exploring the fleshy folds within.

Brian smiled, holding the finger motionless to allow Sunita to move up and down upon the tip, tweaking the inflated clit. Her breathing exaggerated like a climber at high altitude, her loins aflame, the chug of the engine starting up sent a wave through her whole body. Withdrawing the finger, Brian sucked upon it longingly before issuing a nod of appreciation as he took the wheel. Embarrassedly Sunita tugged at the hem of the skirt, desperately trying to cover herself. Yet the act was in vain.

As they exited the car park, Brian reached over unexpectedly, locking his fingers around a slim wrist and pulling her hand across to his groin where a thick ridge ran down to the left thigh. “Look…this is what you do to me,” he exclaimed, pressing her fingers to the bulge.

Sunita ran an inquisitive digit the entire length, evaluating a good eight inches of semi-hard manhood. “Where are you taking me?” she whispered.

Brian said nothing, eyes slanting, hands squeezing the wheel as Sunita’s slender fingers found the bulbous tip through the material of the trousers. Lovingly she traced the length back with a flat palm, marvelling at its size and shape, continuing to stroke until the golden lights of town had all extinguished and the way ahead was darkened. As overhanging branches scraped the side of the car, Brian cut a path down the narrow track.

A hundred yards on, dimmed lights filled Sunita’s eyes. She turned to Brian questioningly but his lips remained tight as he manoeuvred in between two stationary cars. Turning her head, Sunita raised the playful hand from his groin, placing it to her mouth in shock. Less than an arm’s length away, illuminated by a fuzzy glow, a couple copulated wildly in the driver’s seat of the car next door. The middle aged man sat behind, his willing female partner of similar age bouncing in his lap, her head thrown back and mouth wide open in the throes of ecstasy. Large hands cupped and squeezed at her juggling breasts, eliciting audible groans of lust. Sunita felt her fingers drawn magnetically to her groin.

Leaning across, Brian surveyed the scene before turning to crush his lips against hers, his hands clawing her breasts roughly. Sunita sighed as the tongue probed, finding hers with an almost electric pulse. Pulling away, Brian grinned, glancing over at the couple in the next car whilst wrestling with his fly. Through the black haze, Sunita noticed that an audience had started to gather, several men abandoning the anonymity of their cars to gawp at the couple banging in the car next door. This is so fucking hot, Sunita thought, the initial fear dissipating, her fingers dancing lazily over her clit. Taking hold of her wrist, Brian fed the juice laden digits into his mouth, sucking eagerly.

With lustful squeals that gripped the night air, the couple came hard, the guy grunting as the woman arched her back before falling back limply. A smile was flashed in Sunita’s direction before the woman jumped quickly over into the passenger seat, drawing up her panties and adjusting her dress, the show over. The car reversed away, to be immediately replaced by another. Sunita’s attention drawn back to Brian, in the excitement the throbbing cock had burst through the front of his boxer shorts seemingly of its own accord.

An impressive tool indeed, Sunita ran a tongue around her lips, having been worked up into a frenzy of desire by the recent sideshow. Reaching out as Brian lounged back casually, Sunita let the thick slab of meat slide through her fist. “Oh God, yeah,” Brian breathed.

Sunita became aware of movement outside the car, a twig snapping and of a figure close by, a nose pressing the side window, excited breath causing a circular mist to frost the glass. That in turn made her heart pound violently against her left breast and a wicked grin to elevate her lips as the ministrations to the thick cock in hand increased. Eyes closed, Brian breathed spasmodically.

As the mist cleared from the glass, Sunita espied a face she recognised immediately, that of the filthy cabbie from the journey in. Gosh, that seemed so long ago in all that had happened that night. He remembered her too, exhibiting a wide grin. Suddenly the rear door opened and the cabbie climbed in, a gust of wind brushing over Sunita’s arse and wet pussy. Brian offered a little nod of recognition to the newcomer who wasted no time in dropping his jeans and removing a sweaty-looking cock. As attention focussed on Brian’s car, another man alighted from a parked vehicle, his face pressed against Sunita’s side window, watching the scene intently. “Suck my cock,” implored Brian breathlessly, easing Sunita towards him over the gearstick.

Unlocking the seatbelt, Sunita’s puckered lips honed in on the angry looking cock. As she leant over, the cabbie’s hand pawed at her breast, a thumb and forefinger rolling the nipple. Sunita moaned as she adjusted position, her juicy mouth enveloping the purple dome. The cabbie pinched and squeezed at the nipple, whilst masturbating so close that the dank smell of his penis filled her nostrils.

As if that wasn’t enough, the stranger from outside the car, pulled open the door and smoothed Sunita’s skirt up her bum and back. Cupping both butt cheeks, he guided his thumbs in circles from the knot of her anus, over the taut flesh and through the thatch of blonde hair that covered her glistening pussy. Distant-sounding mumbles of approval suggested they’d attracted an even greater audience, though with her face in Brian’s groin Sunita was blind. With weeks of pent-up lust having worked Sunita into a near frenzy, these onlookers were about to be treated to some show.

Feeling a tug on her hair from the cabbie, Sunita’s mouth slurped clear of Brian’s cock, a string of saliva and precum stretching from her lips to the thick eye. Forcefully the cabbie impaled her face on his cock, Sunita’s protests muted in thick manhood. Despite the foul taste, Sunita sucked with relish, using her hand to knead the balls. The cabbie voiced his approval with a grunt, grip tightening on the golden locks.

Anxious to finish what he’d started, Brian wrestled back her head, his more pleasant tasting cock bringing welcome relief. Sunita flicked her tongue at the eye, sucked hard and plunged her mouth in piston strokes, causing Brian to salivate.

But then she was pulled back again as each man shared her oral exchanges. A minute later, as her head plunged the length of Brian’s cock, finally he lost control, exhaling as a thick wad of spunk jettisoned. Such was the volume Sunita’s cheeks bulged, trails dribbling from the sides of her mouth as hungrily she swallowed what she could.

Suddenly Sunita’s eyes bulged, as from behind her arse came under fire from an eager and thick tongue, curled to probe at her ring. At the same time, other rough pairs of hands pawed at her thighs and moist pussy. Tossing back her head, Sunita groaned loudly. Without warning, her t-shirt and skirt were torn from her body and she felt herself being lifted and carried from the car. Dumped unceremoniously on her butt on the bonnet, breasts swaying freely, she was vaguely aware of a line forming in the half-dark. The first, a total stranger, climbed between her legs and nuzzled at her neck, angling his hard cock at her pussy. Others looked on, nursing hard-ons while awaiting their turn.

Sunita’s clit pulsated as the thick tip rubbed back and forth, the shaft working its way inside as his mouth locked on hers. Fingernails scraped at the stranger’s back as he slammed hard, burying a long slender cock to the balls. Sunita gasped as her cunt was pounded mercilessly for three minutes or so. Freeing her lips, she implored: “Tell me what I am.”

“You’re a dirty fucking little slut,” he spat, before plunging hard at her cervix.

Sunita screamed as the orgasm exploded inside her, quickly followed by the first, but by no means last, wad of thick cum filling that wanton pussy. Sunita breathed like an asthmatic as, rolling off satisfied, the stranger was replaced by the cabbie, his eyes mad with lust. Lifting her limp knees over his shoulders, he bore down on her, plugging the cum-filled hole. Sunita was aware of two other men close by, glancing up in a dreamlike state to see fists blurring over hard cocks. Unable to wait, they were busily pleasuring themselves as the cabbie shagged away mercilessly.

The first rope of cum sprayed forth like a party popper, lashing Sunita’s face. Moving closer, the guy emptied the rest of his seed in her mouth, shaking his cock and wiping it over her lips as the cabbie continued his pounding into her cunt. Sunita tasted the salty deposit before swallowing readily. Seconds later a fresh wad hit her square in the face from the opposite side, her mouth flooded once more with cream, so much that she gagged. Composing herself amid the three-way onslaught, Sunita squeezed her thighs, bringing the cabbie to a sudden orgasm, coaxing every drop of seed he had to offer into her womb, accompanied by a grunt of approval. “Dirty whore,” he mouthed before moving aside.

Three more strangers took their turns in quick succession, each dumping a thick load in her cunt as Sunita lost all sense of where she was, orgasm upon orgasm ripping through her body. With little time for further composure, another man, the eighth if Brian and the two wankers were included, joined the fray, surprising Sunita by flipping her over onto her belly. “Yeah, fuck her arse,” rang out the enthusiastic chorus from those in the audience.

A whole new experience, Sunita’s first reaction was to clench, to try to expel this unnatural invasion. But, having waited so long, this new guy was not about to be put off easily, his cock as hard as his resolve. The tip dug at the tight virginal ring as Sunita reached up for support, fingers sliding down the windscreen. In went the head with a sound like a football puncturing, accompanied by a squeal as Sunita begged for clemency. Yet she knew full well any protests were in vain as the pain grew ever more intense with each abortive thrust at her sphincter. He was just too big for easy access. After three or four stabs, the hole finally yielded. With a world of pain driving her to the edge of consciousness, he ploughed deep.

Her butthole gripped at the tight cock, a grinding feeling as he moved back and forth seemingly turning her inside out. The shaft buried to the balls, he heaved a breath, imploring her to take it all like a good slut. The words caused Sunita’s cunt to fizz, another orgasm ranging in.

As Sunita relaxed, she was able to take more, a pair of huge balls brushing at her perineum. Within a minute the pain had completely abated and Sunita was overwhelmed by such feelings of pleasure that she came for the umpteenth time. In and out the fierce tool pistoned in magic rhythm to her sighs of pleasure. Her prolonged climax caused the cock in her arse to jerk and, with the loudest, most appreciative grunt yet, her partner came hard, spraying thick seed deep into her bowels. Sunita howled, gripping hard, not wanting to let the cock go, feeling so damned hollow when it shrank and slid out.

Through the haze, she saw Brian. “I think we’d better get you home.”

Dropping her off at the door, Brian patted her arse, exchanging farewells. Bathed in the glow of the step light, lodgers Adam and Louise hugged, having arrived home only seconds earlier. Remembering the hole in the wall to their bedroom, Sunita grinned lasciviously. Despite having sucked a cock, been wanked over by two more, had four in her cunt and one up her arse, she was hungry for more – much more.

E N D

Another Whole New Short Exciting Seasonal Holidays Storyline……..

My Christmas Job

Mark says… A few December’s back and, facing the prospect of spending Christmas alone for the first time in years, I found myself at a low ebb. Having split with Donna in the summer, a stopgap at work colleague Gary’s house had turned into an elongated stay. Not that Gary minded unduly, a fellow singleton, he was glad of the company and happy with the rent, besides which I happened to be his boss. I suspected that, with the New Year pay reviews impending, he’d be expecting a better-than-average rise this time around.

Having graciously let Donna keep the car, as well as being his lodger I was his passenger on the trip into work each day. A fortnight away from Christmas and with the inclement English weather at its most mischievous, I was grateful of the warmth of the Mercedes that was Gary’s pride and joy. One of those ice-cold December mornings straight out of a Victorian Christmas card, a light covering of snow brushed the ground, supplementing the freezing rain to form huge slushy puddles. The breath from those walking on the pavement, wrapped in padded winter coats, hats and scarves, was clearly visible.

Being a passenger and not having to concentrate on the road, I didn’t notice her until the very last minute. Dashing for the bus in inappropriate heels, a white blouse and cream jacket, she really was asking for trouble. Gary saw her, however, and issuing an evil chuckle veered suddenly left to churn through a massive roadside puddle of sludge. Wheels spinning, a blanket of murky icy water flew up to splash the girl neck high, turning everything she wore black in its wake.

My colleague howled with sadistic laughter as in the rear view mirror the girl banged her fists, stamped a foot and bawled mute expletives our way. A right nasty piece-of-work at times, Gary could hardly to stop laughing throughout the rest of the journey. Pulling up in the company car park beside the office, we headed inside to join our colleagues about to embark upon another dull Monday. Still, Christmas was close and, with the festive season in full swing, the huge over-decorated spruce in reception brought some seasonal cheer, alongside the telephonists who were clearly trying to outdo one another with the largest Christmas card collection.

An hour later Jane Raw, the office manager came up to my office to reveal that our new temp had been in accident and would be late. Looking at the piles of work that had accumulated thanks to annual leave and a bad strain of the flu, I sighed. “Where does the agency find these people?” I mused, the festive spirit having quickly evaporated and not for one moment realising the journey that was about to begin.

Kate says… If I hadn’t needed the money so badly for Christmas, I’d have had no need to go temping. But I did and that was why I found myself rushing around on that horrid Monday morning. Blonde hair tied into a ponytail and smoothing the skirt down my bum, it wasn’t until reaching the front gate that it dawned upon me just how badly dressed I was. The cream jacket and skirt I’d worn to my last job a couple of summers back was totally inappropriate in the bleak midwinter. I shivered, almost loosing my footing as I stepped out onto the glazed pavement like Bambi on ice.

Seriously pushed for time, there was no turning back. I had to press on or risk being late for work on the very first day. Heading to the bus stop, I was lucky not to topple over two or three times on the way. Yet nothing could prepare me for what happened next. It all happened in a kind of slow motion. He knew exactly what he was doing, the nasty so-and-so, swerving so as to plough through the puddle to send a tidal wave of dirty slushy water all over me. Dripping from head to toe, I banged my fists and let fly with a string of expletives before breaking down in tears.

With no option but to head home to change, sobbing all the way, I knew my ‘work’ wardrobe was stretched already, the tight black skirt more apt for the nightclub than the office, the split up the side far from subtle. The only other top that wasn’t a t-shirt was a tight-fitting blouse from days gone by. Though I could hardly be described as busty, the blouse accentuated what boobs I had rather obscenely. I only hoped this firm had a relaxed attitude to dress code. I flung the heels in a bag and slipped into a sensible pair of trainers for the journey, making a note to get to the shops after work. I was so ill-prepared it was untrue.

10.30 before I made it in and, almost turning back several times, I carried on thinking only about the money and how useful it would be. Unable to locate the door – it just wasn’t my morning – I headed up the side, searching for an entrance. It was then that I noticed it, that same damned Mercedes that had drenched me in crap first thing. A black mist descended and, not really thinking straight, I moved upsides, taking out a shoe. A grimace slipped from my lips as the heel scraped the paintwork, its sound like the shrill chalk-on-a-blackboard noise from my schooldays.

Satisfied with my handiwork, leaving a nice dense scratch, I quickly changed footwear and looked around for a way in, finally locating a carousel door. It was only as I waited in the reception, cheered by the huge Christmas tree and abundance of pretty cards, that it occurred to me that the owner of the car I’d just vandalised probably worked here. Breaking out into a cold sweat and about to flee, I heard a voice in my ear. “Kate Lee?”

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied timidly.

“Jane Raw, office manager,” she introduced. “We’ll just get you issued with a pass and I’ll take you up.”

Too late now, I figured no one could possibly suspect innocent little me of inflicting the damage.

I turned a deep shade of crimson upon following Jane into the office as, standing at the coffee machine, the first person I laid eyes upon was the driver with a smug expression I’d recognise anywhere. He glanced my way, thankfully without a hint of recognition

(at least that’s what I hoped)

, just that knowing look guys tend to give me whenever they set eyes upon me for the first time: heavy with lust and wanting. I had to run the gauntlet of a dozen more men, ranging from teenagers just out of college to those nearing retirement. A cosmopolitan bunch, they shared a collective one-track mind, mentally undressing me. “Is that the new temp?” I heard one whisper.

“Phwoar, wouldn’t ya just!” mouthed another.

You should be so lucky, I thought, making a point of glancing over my shoulder and pouting, despite having clammy hands and a heavily pounding heart. “Okay, this is where you’ll be working Kate,” Jane announced. “I’ll leave you in Kirsty’s capable hands.

And capable hands they appeared too. In her late 20’s / early 30’s, Kirsty Penetration looked a real dish. With a brunette bob and a businesslike demeanour, she was my antithesis. Thank God the job only lasted a fortnight. She pulled up a seat and started showing me around the system. A whistle-stop tour, I was ready to begin work by 11.30. With the fax machine located at the side of my desk, it was funny how popular it proved to be over the next few hours. By lunchtime, it seemed that every guy on the floor had been over to check me out.

A quiet and uneventful rest of morning, just as well after the dramatic start, I was getting ready to go to lunch when the still was shattered and all hell broke loose. Mercedes Man, it seemed, had discovered my handiwork. He stormed down the aisle, cursing and raging and heading for one of the private offices. Even with the door shut it was possible to hear his raised voice and I felt my face redden. “It’s got a bloody great scratch down the side,” I heard him whine from behind closed doors.

Serves you right, I thought.

The office door opened and he was preceded by the guy had I remembered had been in the passenger seat. Of medium height and build, his head was shaved, a look I had to admit I quite liked. “That’s the boss, Mark,” disclosed Kirsty in a whisper, rising to join the Pied Piper-like exodus as everyone went off to witness my malicious act of vengeance.

I let them get on with it, heading off to grab a sandwich and familiarise myself with the surroundings. Having killed the mandatory half-hour, the afternoon turned out to be less apocalyptic than the morning, spent working solidly. Having quickly picked up what was required, I was able to shift quite a few piles of work. “Wow, I’m impressed,” Kirsty enthused.

I blushed and at that moment we were joined by someone else. “Mark, this is Kate, the new temp,” Kirsty introduced.

I stood and turned to face him, holding out a hand in greeting. He took it and smiled, issuing the obligatory welcome and a look I couldn’t quite fathom. Was it possible he recognised me as the girl from the bus stop? Had he put two and two together? “How are you feeling now?” he asked in a deep voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

And his smile, gosh, I nearly had to fan my face. “…After your accident,” he clarified.

“Fine thanks,” I replied, feeling my cheeks redden. “Sorry for getting in so late.”

“That’s okay. I’m impressed you came in at all.”

Everyone seemed to be impressed by me so far, well everyone apart from Gary. As he turned and walked away, Kirsty grinned. “Well it looks like you’ve won the boss over already.”

On account of the late start, a late finish was assured to make up the time or lose valuable pay. The office thinned gradually until the only sound came from my fingers clicking the keyboard. At least I imagined I was alone until a hand touched my shoulder. “Kate, would you mind coming in for second?” sounded Mark’s voice from behind.

My heart leapt as I followed dutifully and he gestured me to pull up a chair the other side of the desk. Out of the blue he asked: “Kate, um, do you know anything about what happened to Gary’s car this morning?”

My jaw dropped. Such a shock to hear those unexpected words, the guilt must have registered clearly on my face. I could feel myself overheating, throat dry.

“Well?” he prompted.

I stared up at the ceiling. How could he possibly know? Oh God I felt awful, tears welling up. “Yes, I do,” I confessed. “I did it.”

My candid admission seemed to take him as much by surprise as his question had me. He took a moment to process the information, staring into space. Then he looked over and straight into my eye. “Well, if nothing else I admire your honesty.”

I bowed my head, avoiding his piercing glare.

“You were the girl at the bus stop,” he said, before adding: “Not that that makes it right.”

“No,” I managed, then from somewhere finding the inner strength to defend myself. “It was a horrible thing to do. I was drenched through.”

“Yes it was,” he concurred

Gathering up more inner strength, I stood defiantly. “If you’re going to sack me, I’ll be off home and not waste any more of my time.”

As I headed for the door he said calmly: “Kate, wait.”

Our eyes met and he rubbed his chin. Moving back I sat down again, trembling.

Mark exhaled hard. “It’s, um, it’s not as simple as that, I’m afraid. Gary wants to involve the police.”

The revelation knocked me for six and I erupted in tears, head buried in hands. Looking up eventually, I apologised.

“The thing is, I’m in a real dilemma,” Mark offered diplomatically. Whilst I can’t condone what you did, I CAN understand why you did it.”

I looked over appealingly.

“Plus your work today has been first class,” he added, as if trying to justify things to his conscience. “AND you seem to have brightened up the office no end. AND we’re really snowed under at the moment,” he added, trying not to grin at his own pun.

I offered a forced smile.

“Okay Kate,” he said eventually, leaning back in the chair, hands behind head. “Tell me, what would YOU do if you were in my shoes?”

I shrugged. “Are you really going to involve the police?”

He let out a pained-sounding sigh. “I need to think about it. I’ll call you back in a few moments.”

I thanked him for his magnanimous approach to the sorry situation, before pulling up sharply. “Um, how did you know it was me?”

“CCTV,” he replied, hand resting on a video. “You were caught red-handed.”

I smiled awkwardly before departing. Doubtless he was thinking what a brainless bimbo I was.

Mark says… Well what a dilemma I was faced with! Never great at making decisions, being in charge of a twenty-strong team, that was somewhat worrying. The truth was I’d been promoted beyond my capabilities as a result of two former superiors moving on to bigger and better things. Rather than bring in an outsider with the requisite experience, they’d installed me in a caretaker kind of role. Things drifted like that for 6 months and, although far from ready, I was given the promotion on a permanent basis. Like a school uniform bought at the start of term, I’d grow into it eventually, but for now it was just a little big for me. “Oh Kate, Kate, Kate,” I sighed, fingers drumming the desk.

It didn’t help either that she was the cutest damn girl I’d laid eyes on in months. Not that that should sway my judgement… At that moment the phone rang. It was Gary and decision time. “Hi mate, did you manage to get it repaired?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Got a fair deal too. Turns out the bodyshop manager knows my old man. Not only that…” he continued, voice lowering as if about to disclose some top secret. “I think I might have pulled the receptionist.

“So all’s well that ends well?” I suggested, trying hard to justify to myself saving Kate’s neck. “Look, I’ve been through the CCTV footage and there’s nothing on there,” I lied.

“Oh well,” he conceded. “Thanks for looking.”

“That’s okay,” I offered, secreting the tape in bottom of the desk.

Two minutes later I was standing behind Kate, dispensing the news. She could keep her job and Gary wouldn’t be taking things any further with the police. She breathed a sigh of relief and thanked me before returning to her work. “Go on, you should get off home,” I suggested. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“But I’ve still 40 minutes to make up,” she contested.

“Says who?” I replied, leaning over to sign her time sheet. “Go on,” I prompted, “You’ve put in good day’s work. Just try to get in a little earlier tomorrow, yeah?”

She smiled awkwardly and it took another prompt to get her to move.

After returning to the office to sign the day’s cheque requisitions and some of Kate’s dictation – most impressive typing I had to admit – I headed across the road to The White Hart. Despite being a Monday, there was a prevailing party atmosphere, courtesy of the festive season. The pub was all decked out in low-hanging paper chains, whilst spangly decorations adorned the walls and tinsel reflected back the lights of the fruit machine into which I fed a fiver. Mind wandering as the reels spun before my eyes, I found myself thinking about Kate. She’d made a huge impression in such a short space of time and I’d fallen for her in a big way. My resolution to avoid bunny boiler-types was in grave danger of being severely tested.

Having done my money in the bandit, I joined a group of acquaintances at the bar. Despite protestations to the contrary, a second drink arrived and I found myself being absorbed into a big round. In fact, it was gone eleven before I could get away, somewhat the worse for wear and stumbling into a cab.

As I drunkenly attempted to fit the key in the lock of the front door, missing the hole several times, I heard voices from within. Gary, it seemed, was entertaining. I opened the door quietly and crept through, eager not to disturb. Indeed he was entertaining, locked in a clinch with an attractive girl who, I surmised, was the receptionist from the Mercedes dealership. He must have assumed I was already in bed, for unashamedly they were getting cosy on the rug before the fire. I’m afraid to say, I was magnetised to the scene, gazing in from the doorway with voyeuristic abandon.

Gary certainly had had one hell of a result on account of Kate’s destructiveness. The receptionist was stacked like a Playboy model and her tits looked real, jiggling naturally as she rode his cock. Occasionally he’d reach up and fondle or suck the nipples as he pumped hard from the buttocks. Gary was one lucky fucker – literally. Why couldn’t I have his kind of luck? Deciding that enough was enough in my sex-starved purgatory, I headed to bed, falling into an easy snooze. I was roused momentarily by the screams and grunts as the pair came hard, before submitting once more to comforting sleep.

Kate says… Having made an extra special effort to go to bed early on Monday night, I was rewarded with a 7 o’clock awakening the following morning. Another cold and shivery winter’s morning, the urge to remain snuggled in the warm air-trap under the duvet was overwhelming. But I’d pledged to get in early and hated to break a promise, especially after the huge favour Mark had done me.

Hop-skipping to the bathroom to avoid the cold floor, I ensured the shower was piping hot before slipping under a jet of water that immediately smoothed away each and each goose pimple. Mmm, that felt so good, more so when the soap touched my body, rolling down my tits in thick trails and hanging off the ends of each nipple. The soap and water felt great on my pussy too, coating the sparse thatch of blonde. I hated to admit it but I was horny as hell and all that was missing was a shower buddy. Hmm, I could think of one or two ideal candidates from the office. In fact, somewhat perversely I was quite looking forward to getting into work.

A quick stop-off at the Christmas sales the previous evening, I was able to mix and match a number of cheap purchases, plumping for a vanilla blouse and grey slacks that showed off my bobble bum rather nicely. Still a little damp from the shower, the blouse stuck to my skin, accentuating what curve there was in my tits and hips. The boots I’d bought were far more sensible for the elements and a blue Paddington Bear anorak would keep out the cold.

Tea and buttered toast wolfed down, I headed off into the dull grey and cold pre-Christmas morning. A 15-minute wait for the bus, as my body temperature dropped, I could feel my nipples stiffen and chafe against the lacy black bra. Unsubtle I know, but I wanted to give the men in the office an image to remember whilst they were fucking their wives or girlfriends that night, or masturbating with me in mind. A not unpleasant sensation in my tits, I felt a series of tingles down below, stifling a satisfied little sigh.

Coming to my senses, I noticed that a city gent in his 50’s was watching me intently. I smiled inwardly, basking in the effect I seemed to have over men of all ages – and even a few women too. In fact, my last two lovers had been women and, at 22 I’d grown to adore pussy nearly as much as cock. Nearly, but not quite, for there was no feeling to match the sensation of a good, hard, throbbing cock banging my tight little vagina. No strap-on dildo or hi-tech vibrator could ever quite replicate that feeling.

Lost in reverie, I must have groaned aloud for, growing braver, the city gent grinned my way. When finally the bus arrived, like a true gentleman he ushered me on first. In hindsight, he probably just wanted to check out my gorgeous arse as I mounted the step. The bus full of commuters, standing in the aisle was inevitable. The city gent had managed to manoeuvre so that he stood directly behind me, physical contact unavoidable as the bus moved with an erratic stop / start motion. He was so close I could feel his racing breath warming my neck.

Wickedly I decided upon a little harmless fun, pushing my bum back into his groin and hearing a baritone gasp of surprise. It made me feel like the dirtiest of sluts as I wiggled on his bulge, mercilessly teasing a fellow who was old enough to be my father if not grandfather. As a horn screeched in the road, the driver hit the brakes and the city gent was thrust into me. I could feel his cock rubbing my arse and hear the mumbling beneath his breath. Angling to allow even closer access, well as close as two sets of clothing would allow, this was as close to sex as it was possible without losing one’s clothes and, for a girl who’d been starved of cock for a year, it felt blissful.

As the bus jerked and I stumbled, on the pretext of helping me up, the city gent placed a hand under my armpit, ensuring to get a good feel of tit. Sadly he eased off which was a shame. As we reached his stop outside the train station, he pushed past, one final feel of my arse with a firm warm hand. We exchanged knowing smiles and he was on his way, doubtless to relive the episode till his dying days. I’d bet good money he’d be on this same bus the same time tomorrow. Maybe I would too, maybe I wouldn’t.

Mark says… Typically, I awoke with the hangover from hell whilst Gary awoke to the sex kitten. Still hard at it, his bed in the next door room creaked painfully. Finishing off with a flurry, both screeched till I was forced to rise and seek solace in the bathroom. However, I didn’t make it, intercepted by my flatmate who looked like he’d just run a marathon. “Mate, I won’t be coming in today,” he wheezed, eyebrows elevating.

The thought of the lucky bugger shagging that gorgeous piece of arse all day long did little to alleviate my headache. At least Kate offered consolation, as a result of which I showered for an extra five minutes, shaved carefully and applied my best Calvin Klein aftershave. Who was I kidding?

Even with the aid of analgesics, I was feeling no better by mid morning, head thumping, throat dry and hands clammy. After constantly being disturbed in my office, I sought solace in the boardroom. With no meetings booked and being the sole keyholder, I could hide myself away undisturbed for a few hours and feel sorry for myself. Adjoining the photocopying room, it was surprising just how thin the walls were in these modern offices. I could hear the whirr of the machine, people talking to themselves and some even humming Christmas tunes. After half an hour I heard the first conversation, ears pricking up. It was Kate and Kirsty. Kirsty spoke first. “You do realise every bloke in the office has the hots for you?”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Kate replied modestly, if a little untruthfully.

“Sooooooo…” Kirsty mused playfully. “Any you particularly like?”

From next door my attention was drawn raptly.

“Ooh, now that would be telling,” Kate teased.

“Jason’s cute,” Kirsty suggested.

“Nah, too young,” the temp dismissed.

“Ken’s nice in a fatherly sort of way.”

“Nah, too old,” Kate countered, before stopping sharply, reminiscing. “Oh gosh Kirsty, you will NEVER guess what happened to me on the bus this morning.”

She proceeded to tell her colleague about an incident involving a dirty old man groping her on the bus which caused my eyes to bulge, not so much at the nature of the anecdote but of the relish with which she imparted it. And what a delicious thought. Maybe I needed to get the bus more often. It was almost enough to help me forget the hangover.

“Okay, what about Gary then?” Kirsty persisted as the photocopier churned out paper.

I heard Kate giggle. She then moved closer and lowered her voice. It meant that I had to creep closer to the wall to eavesdrop. Swearing her colleague to secrecy, Kate proceeded to confess to the car-scratching incident.

“Oh Kate, you are such a bad girl,” Kirsty gasped. “Mark and Gary are so up each other’s arses that I’m amazed you’re still here.”

My brow creased at the accusation.

“In fact, I can’t believe Mark even let you come back today. Oh my God Kate, you didn’t, did you – no,not with Mark?”

Phew, I wish, I thought, and what a thought!

“Kirsty! I’m not that sort of girl,” the temp protested, before adding teasingly: “Though I probably did deserve a good spanking.”

In the next room, I blew hard. Why on earth hadn’t I thought of that at the time? Imagining Kate spread across my knee was driving me crazy with lust.

“Sooooooo…do you like him then?” Kirsty fished.

“Who, Gary?”

“No, silly – Mark.”

Kate made no reply. I wondered what that meant. That she didn’t deny it offered hope, though she wasn’t exactly declaring her undying love. Having finished their copying and appraisals of the men in the office, the pair wandered back to their desks.

I made a brief appearance after lunch, feeling a little better but far from good. Secreting once more in the boardroom for the afternoon, I enjoyed a snooze until five o’clock arrived. Sneaking back to my office, I busily set about fast-tracking the day’s tasks. At half past five there was a knock at the door and Kate walked in. “Can you sign my time sheet, please Mark?” she requested.

I smiled. “So, Kate, how are you finding things here?” I enquired, boss-like.

She smiled back. “I really like it. And no mishaps today like yesterday.”

We both chuckled, eyes engaging briefly before looking away. I couldn’t get the image out of my head that she, damn her, had planted, of being stretched across my knee as I spanked her lovely little arse. It was most disconcerting. I sent her on her way, regretful after at not having suggested a drink or something. It was the ideal opportunity wasted.

An hour later I was on my way home, thankful after a damp bus journey that was nothing like Kate’s to see Gary’s note disclosing he’d be out all night. The place to myself, I spread out on the sofa and watched three hours of trash TV. It was nice doing nothing, my last early night that week. Tomorrow a few of us were being taken out for a meal by one of our suppliers, on Thursday I was at a conference that would doubtless degenerate later into a heavy drink-up and Friday was the office Christmas party.

A real shame Kate couldn’t go, head office decreed it was for full-time staff only. In any event, our prescribed table limit of 16 had already been reached. No bad thing, Cockmore Country Club rarely failed to throw up nice surprises, year in, year out. For although WE were a predominantly male group, many different organisations filled the other tables. We got to mix with groups of nurses, supermarket checkout girls and hairdressers, all of whom naturally enjoyed a favourable female: male ratio. Once the meal was through and the tables moved aside, it tended to be a free-for-all. Having been in a relationship the past three parties, this year I had a lot of making up to do. And I figured that even if I didn’t happen to get lucky on the night, there was always Kate to look forward to the following Monday. Life actually felt good for the first time in 6 months.

Wednesday went by unspectacularly. The meal in the evening was so-so without ever threatening to become one of the great nights out from history. And at least it was free.

Thursday was similar, until deep into the afternoon when Kirsty came to see me. “Mark,” she began, all doe-eyed innocence and pouting lips as I glanced up, entreating her to continue. “Do you think Kate come on the works do tomorrow?”

Hmm, I wish, I thought, bearing in mind that as each day that passed she seemed to grow lovelier and lovelier. “You know it’s for permanent staff only,” I responded. “Besides which our table is already full.”

“Couldn’t we squeeze her in?”

Again, I bloody well wished we could but we couldn’t. “Sorry Kirsty, but no.”

“Ah well, worth a try,” she shrugged and did an about-turn.

Fate tends to work in the strangest ways and I’d barely got back to what I was doing when the phone rang. I’d hardly seen Gary all week, and here he was on the line. He was going to take off the rest of the week, he disclosed, adding sheepishly that he wouldn’t be able to make the party. I exhaled hard. For Gary to miss THE event of the year, it must be love. Putting the phone down, I rubbed my chin. The company would lose its $50 fee if Gary didn’t go, but I couldn’t just allow Kate, a temp who’d been working with us for less than a week, to step in. Quickly I fired off an e-mail to the department:

“Gary’s still feeling poorly and has dropped out of the party. Anyone have any suggestions?”

A dozen replies came back in double-quick time, all proposing Kate’s name.

I wandered out into the department and explained to everyone why, in theory, it couldn’t be Kate. But what if she paid the $50? Someone suggested. Sadly, as Kate was quick to point out, she couldn’t really afford that much money. In seconds, Jason had organised a whip-round, collecting $40. All eyes on me, I donated the extra tenner. To everyone’s joy, Kate would be going to the party.

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Kate says… Friday dragged by, especially as I worked through lunch in order to leave early. I could hardly believe how generous everyone had been and probably owed quite a few favours. As Kirsty and I were the only girls going, she suggested we get changed at hers. I arrived with a bottle of wine to get the evening off to a good start though Kirsty was one step ahead, with a bottle already chilling on my arrival. So we put mine in the fridge for later and made a toast to enjoying yourselves and having loads of fun. “You know Kate,” observed Kirsty with an awkward smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before.”

I returned the smile and assured her that there were millions of girls around just like me. A sigh met my words. “Well, none I’ve met,” she mused.

“So, do you meet many girls when you’re out and about then?” I enquired, fishing for information.

She blushed but said nothing.

“Look, I’d better be getting showered,” I pointed out, glancing at the clock and necking the wine.

“Um Kate,” she mouthed. “Don’t lock the door. I’ve, um, some fresh towels to drop in.”

The steaming shower felt wonderful on a body that had been ravaged by the elements all week and chilled by the glass of wine, imparting an immediate rosy glow. Lines of soapy gel caressed my skin as it descended, licking at my breasts and swirling at my feet as the week’s fatigue was washed away.

Through the glass, thick with condensation, I watched the door open and Kirsty creep in tentatively. Turning off the flow, I brushed the excess water off the edges of my breasts and squeezed the ends of my hair before surprising Kirsty by retracting the shower door and stepping out to stand naked before her. I could see the lump in her throat and hear her breath quicken. Conquering her reticence she stood her ground, allowing herself a long lingering look at my naked body, feasting on my pert tits and trim blonde bush. Turning away from her I said: “Put the towel around me please.”

She took a step forward and wrapped the soft towel around my shoulders, rubbing them. “Mmm, that feels nice,” I gushed, turning to face her.

We stood level, appraising one another. As we moved in closer, it was my neck that craned, head twisting to avoid a clash of noses. “Oh Kate…” she began before the words were muffled in my lips.

The towel slipped off to pool at my feet and I brought her to my wet body. Reaching around, we stroked one another’s necks as our lips made little popping sounds upon contact. Drawing back, the huge grin on my face was mirrored on hers. “I’ve wanted to do that all week,” she admitted.

“Me too,” I concurred, gazing at her t-shirt that was all damp from my body and sticking to her braless breasts.

With that we pushed our faces together once more, mouths parting this time to allow two eager tongues to rove eagerly. Kirsty’s heart was pounding into my breast, muted only by her heavy breathing. Pulling away again, she lifted her arms and allowed me to remove the t-shirt as she tugged down her shorts till both of us stood naked. I absolutely adored her tits, a generous c-cup with massive swollen purple areolae and blunt nipples. Taking my hand I let her lead me off to the bedroom.

A new kind of experience for me: at the age of 22 I’d been with older women with more experience and younger girls with less experience but never an older woman with less experience. As we lay down on our sides on the bed, facing each other and supported by an elbow, breathily Kirsty admitted that this was her first time. She’d fantasised about women but had never taken it any further. I reached out to stroke her hair, gaining assurance that she wanted to continue. She nodded enthusiastically.

My body still a little damp from the shower, our flesh glided as I craned, angling my lips to her nipples. She gasped as my tongue snaked out to graze the edge before running it around the erect teat. Lifting her fulsome breast to my lips, I sucked purposefully. She moaned lightly, fingers raking the duvet cover. Shifting onto her back, she gazed in wonder at the ceiling as I towered over her. Knees raised, but quaintly pushed together, I stroked her outer calves. Caressing upwards, I reached the kneecaps and parted her legs, stroking an inner thigh as she let them part, eyes clenched tight.

Taking a moment to admire her lovely-looking pussy, all brunette curls and plump lips, I resisted the temptation to touch her there, palm moving to the area of flesh beneath her navel. This continued for a minute or two as she purred contentedly. Nearer and near I moved my fingers until finally I was stroking the boundaries of the pubic hair. And then, when she thought she might explode, I went for it.

So intense was the foreplay and so full of anticipation was Kirsty that it needed the merest touch, the dip of a fingertip, to make her writhe and, dare I say, cum hard. And I hadn’t even got near to her clit yet. Removing the juice-stained digit, I tasted Kirsty’s pussy on it. It was divine, musky yet with a sweet palate all of its own. I couldn’t wait to lick that gorgeous crack and feast upon her hidden delights.

Yet, conscious of time, I kissed her and made a heartfelt promise: if we didn’t pull any decent guys at the party we could always play with one another. Kirsty loved that idea, a win-win situation if ever there was one. Hurrying her off to shower, I was tempted to join her, stopped only by the thought of getting all wrinkly. Well we couldn’t have that, could we?

Instead I had a little lie-down on Kirsty’s bed before rising to dress. As she came in, all sweet-smelling and damp, her eyes very nearly popped out. “Oh my God Kate, you are NOT going to wear that!”

Okay, let me describe that particular top. Silver and see-through polyester, it comprised horizontal bands in a chain-mail effect, every other band a see-through one. As it stretched over my breasts, lines of flesh were unveiled like a blind on a window. Tantalisingly it stopped short, just above the navel. The skirt I’d chosen to accompany it was equally revealing, micro of course in powder blue. “You don’t like?” I enquired with a little girl pout.

“Oh I do, I do, but in THAT you can’t fail to pull,” she replied with a frown, remembering my promise from earlier. “God, Kate, you are soooooooo going to put me in the shade tonight.”

I had to admit that the white and orange blouse with flared sleeves she’d chosen for the occasion did look a little staid in comparison. Reading my mind, she discarded the top and searched feverishly in the wardrobe for something that was, dare I say it, a little sluttier. I moved in closer to help, our hips brushing. “I haven’t worn anything that end of the rail for years,” she dismissed.

“Maybe that’s what you need then,” I countered, removing a basque-type top in red and black that looked straight out of Moulin Rouge.

“I cannot wear that!” she protested. “God knows what I was thinking when I bought it…”

“Be a devil,” I prompted, “You’ll look gorgeous, I promise.”

“Kate no, I can’t…”

“Okay,” I agreed. “But, just for me, show me what it looks like on you.”

With a little further cajoling, she consented. Wow, it was tight, yet it displayed her curves superbly as her breasts lifted and pushed together to form the cleavage of all cleavages. “Oh, you simply must wear it tonight,” I gushed.

“Kate, no,” she argued, making to undo it.

“Damn Kirsty, have you seen the time…?”

Outside a horn sounded. Looking at Kirsty and seeing my own reflection, I didn’t for one minute imagine it would be the last horn of the evening. Was I feeling horny or what? “Quick, the minibus is here,” I squealed. “No time to dither or they’ll go without us.”

You should have seen their expressions as we boarded the minibus, fourteen pairs of lustful eyes mentally undressing us, if that were necessary. As I passed Mark and took the seat behind, I gave him an extra special smile.

Mark says… I was hoping for a good fun night, playing the field as only a single man can, perhaps picking up a few phone numbers along the way and maybe even a couple of slow dances at the end. I might even have tried to bed any half-decent girl showed a passing interest or was drunk enough not to care. But all that changed when Kate climbed aboard the coach. I was absolutely smitten and all else paled into insignificance.

Glancing around the seat as the journey started, I complimented Kate and Kirsty on how gorgeous they looked. It wasn’t just my being magnanimous or trying to make it less obvious how much I fancied Kate, Kirsty genuinely looked stunning too. They thanked me and said that I looked smart too – liars! The three of us flirted innocently throughout the journey though with thirteen other men on the coach, I knew my work would be cut out.

Upon arriving at Coxbourne Country Club, we hung our coats and jackets in the cloakroom, all eyes understandably on Kate. As she moved, the top was prone to revealing flashes of breast. Yet she seemed to bask in the attention, no hint of self-consciousness and comfortable with her body. At the same time, however, she wasn’t in the least bit unapproachable as so many stunning girls can be.

A free bar – well for $50 you’d expect nothing less – I organised a round as the others took their seats for dinner. Last to arrive at the table, I found myself as far away from Kate as was possible. Whilst I could have exercised my seniority to turf Jason out of his seat, I figured there’d be time enough with Kate. The night was young and I could hardly blame anyone for trying it on with the beautiful and vivacious temp.

The meal was top quality, as we’d come to expect over the years, padded out with small talk, cracker pulling and joke telling as the wine flowed. At the end, the youngsters, including Kate, did a round of shots, whilst the rest of us, the oldies, enjoyed a more traditional brandy. The DJ arrived and, as the tables were moved to the sides, little groups started forming in pockets of conversation.

A few more rounds of drink and the first of the girls – the nurses – took to the dancefloor, as the guys ran the rule over from the wings. A typical Christmas party, spirits were high on the promise of what was to come. Soon the hairdressers were up too, and the party got into full swing with some seasonal favourites, Wham, Slade, Shakin’ Stevens and all.

An hour later and, with no sign of Kate, I carried out a circuit of the venue without success. Cursing my procrastination, I imagined that some other lucky guy would by now be monopolising her.

As another hour passed without any sign, and I was beginning to get drunk on Apple flavoured Hooch, I had almost put Kate to the back of my mind as I eyed up one of the nurses. A hint of reciprocation, I was just about to make a move when Kirsty stepped in between us. “Have you seen Kate?” she shouted into my ear above the music.

“Not since the meal,” I hollered back. “I assumed she was with you.”

“I assumed she was with YOU.”

I was flattered but regrettably had to deny the charge. We moved in among those on the dancefloor, but to no avail. She wasn’t at the bar either, nor an adjacent room set aside for those who didn’t want to be deafened by loud music. In addition, none of the colleagues we bumped into had seen her either, much to their regret.

Looking at one another quizzically, we decided to split up and go search. “I’ll go look outside,” I offered, not much relishing the prospect of the freezing night but deeming it my duty as the most senior member of staff.

As I headed to the cloakroom to get my coat, Kirsty went off upstairs.

Kate says… I awoke, not quite sure where I was, head spinning. It wasn’t a bed but it was nice and soft and very comfortable and I wasn’t inclined to move. Unused to drinking in this quantity, I’d passed out. Hearing a voice speak my name, opening my eyes the realisation dawned that I was in the cloakroom. A pile of overflowed coats that the pegs couldn’t accommodate provided my nice soft seat. “Mark, hi,” I replied, trying not to sound too drunk.

“We were getting worried about you,” he said with a smile. “The party’s just getting going and everyone’s asking where you are. Are you coming back in?”

“My legs have gone to sleep, not sure I can manage it,” I countered.

“Probably a wise choice, music’s too loud anyway,” he imparted, before adding: “God I’m showing my age.”

With that he sat down next to me on the pile of coats. I sat up and apologised for my drunken performance.

“Kate, there’s nothing to apologise for,” he began. “I’m just glad to see you’re safe and sound.”

I smiled.

Rooted to the spot as he tilted his head, before I knew what was happening, our lips touched. At first it came as something of a shock that Mark would attempt this but, when I realised just how good it felt, I kissed him back, with real passion.

As we pulled apart, he seemed pleasantly surprised by the reaction and the strength of my kiss, his smile radiant. Moving back close, a pair of strong hands roamed all over my back as his tongue slid against my lips that parted quickly to allow entrance. His tongue slipped against mine, making sensuous and wet contact and I found myself moaning softly as his hands slid down beneath my bottom and pulled me more tightly to him. As he rose to stand I followed, our lips never once breaking contact.

Rocking gently together like we were dancing, the dull phud of the muted disco provided the beat. We continued that way for some time before Mark felt the growing need to move on. His hands moved off my bum and up my sides, moving around to the front. His fingers moved slowly and deliberately down my front, teasing each breast through the top until I lifted my arms.

The soft and gentle yet firm contact of his fingers was beginning to arouse me and I found myself swaying on unsteady feet. I moved them further apart so as not lose balance, though somehow I knew he’d catch me if I fell. A heave upwards and the top was off, leaving me down to a bra that was quickly removed by my boss’ sure fingers.

My head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth open as I gasped with the pleasure of his touch. As his fingertips made contact with my bare body, he leaned forward and kissed my neck. Such intense pleasure, a hoarse moan vibrated from my lips. His palms elevated until they were resting along the outer edges of my breasts, lightly caressing the skin there and passing an electric sensation between them.

His kisses moved from my neck, across my shoulder, and then slowly, ever so slowly, down to the left breast. I moaned aloud as his lips began to caress the flesh of my tit, arching my back and pressing into his mouth as his tongue roved across the nipple. Angling, he nuzzled the aroused teat, sucking it into his mouth and letting his tongue slide full length across the erect little nub.

I sighed in pleasure as the wet warmth engulfed my breast. Mark continued licking and sucking before moving across to the other boob, repeating the process, only more slowly if that were possible. My fingers reached to rake his scalp, holding his head firmly against my chest as I mewed continuously.

Finally, when it felt like my breasts might explode, Mark eased back, stopping momentarily and seeking unspoken permission to continue. I smiled my assurance and, bending down he began to slide his mouth further down my body, maintaining a light contact. He’d stop every so often to kiss and lick at the flesh, taking time to let his tongue dance around my navel, causing me to squirm appreciatively above him.

As finally he reached the waistline of my skirt, his fingers fumbled at the buttons. I aided the process by reaching behind and reaching in to loosen my thong, letting it slide free down my long legs until I was naked beneath the skirt. Knowing that on the other side of that light piece of fabric my bare pussy awaited, Mark’s hands were shaking in anticipation.

It took a little longer than it should have to undo the buttons of the skirt which dropped slowly down my hips to join the thong on the floor. His eyes were riveted on my crotch, the soft and downy blonde pubic hair causing him to sigh. Beyond them, I could tell that my pussy lips that were pouting, full and glistening with my juices.

Extending his hands to push me back into the soft padded coats on pegs, he waddled in closer on his knees. Crotch high, he couldn’t resist the urge to taste, tongue sliding out as he leaned in. Turned on by now, I could feel the juices building deliciously in my loins. He slipped his tongue across my swollen lips and I shuddered, releasing some juice into his waiting mouth.

He repeated the motion achieving the same result, only more fruitful, a veritable flurry of pussy juice. Then, taking firm hold of my buttocks, he began to lick in earnest, moving his tongue lightly and rapidly across my flesh, probing the opening. I writhed above him, hands held high to steady myself, gripping the tops of two pegs.

Lifting my legs, I kicked out, wrapping my knees tightly around his head and pulling him closer to my gaping vagina. It was a wonder he didn’t suffocate but instead carried on licking urgently, tongue fleeting across my labia and teasing me like crazy. Just when I thought he might draw back and leave me on the verge, his tongue extended almost telescopically, moving up to circle my now-exposed and obscenely swollen clit. He flicked his tongue lightly over it, causing me to squeal in ecstasy. As I gripped the pegs so tightly it hurt my palms, he did it again and again and again, and then seemed to suck the little nub into his mouth.

As he did that, I let out a loud and unadulterated groan and began bucking against him. I wanted as much of him inside me as he could give. His tongue was like a chameleon’s, flicking wildly. As the orgasm ranged close, my juices flowed out uncontrollably, coating his chin. He let his tongue slide out momentarily to collect some of the wonderful nectar, before popping it back in and wiggling till I convulsed all over him. I squealed, experiencing the most amazing orgasm for quite some time, perhaps the best a guy had ever managed to give me, especially orally. God only knew what his cock was going to be like and I shuddered at the thought.

As the slow tunes began in earnest in the main hall, we gathered up our discarded clothes and dressed quickly. Just as well, for at that moment we were no longer alone. “Oh, you found her then,” Kirsty observed.

“I did,” Mark replied, guiltily moving to wipe a backhand across his lips.

Surely Kirsty couldn’t have failed to notice the reek of pussy on the air. Indeed, before Mark was able to clean his face properly, Kirsty had pressed her lips to his, making a move on my man. I watched dumbfounded as she moulded her face to his. Breaking away she purred, complimenting me on the taste. “I think we should continue this in your room, don’t you think?” she suggested, displaying a newfound boldness.

“Yes, um, why not?” Mark mumbled.

“It’s your lucky night,” I whispered, taking his arm on the left as Kirsty took the right.

The poor boy looked white as a sheet.

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