Chapter 1.
I was suspended by my wrists from the ceiling of the 'play room'. I was about to be sodomised with the largest penis in the room. And I was rather looking forward to it.
My enforced pose was not uncomfortable, the wrist-cuffs were of soft padded leather, they held my arms about three feet apart, most of my weight could be taken by my legs if I stood upright. My restraints had been arranged so that I had to remain in a 'Y' shape, if I parted my legs, my weight would transfer to my arms. So I teetered on the five inch stiletto heels of my diamanté studded shoes - all I was wearing - apart from the blindfold.
What was uncomfortable, was the waiting - part of my 'forfeit' of course - anticipation before participation. I could hear the clink of wine glasses and the chatter of my tormentors.
"Just get on with it," I muttered.
But the waiting gave me an opportunity to reflect on how I had come to be in this position:
My name is Kate. I was born in 1975, as was my husband, Nick. Same town, same hospital in fact, and the same year, although three months before I was popped out. Nick is my third husband, but before, in between, and even during my marriages, there had been a lot of men. I have not kept count, book keeping is not one of my strengths, but I think that it would be safe to say that I was a centurion well before my first marriage. And yes, I have cheated on all of my husbands.
My infidelities were never intended, but my first marriage turned bad very quickly. I need sex, lots of it. I was not getting it at home, so what's a girl to do? After the divorce, on the grounds of my infidelity, the cheeky sod, I returned to my previous, (Natural?) promiscuousness. My second marriage lasted longer than the first, but not by much. He thought that I was oversexed. I don't remember any complaints from before our wedding, but he was unable to keep up with my demands. So once again, I went elsewhere to have my itch scratched. I, like many before my, began to suspect that humans were just not designed for monogamy. I met Nick before I was divorced. Nick was very different. He too was still married, but like me, was in the expensive and time-consuming process of disentanglement -- divorce.
We met at a party, we were introduced by the host, a mutual friend, because he knew that we both came from the same town. Nick's parents had left when he was small, otherwise we would have been at school together. But now here we were, full circle. I felt a strong attraction to him from the start, Nick was everything anyone could want in a man, good looking, well spoken, intelligent and amusing. I felt like a teenager again, I was tongue-tied, unable to make proper conversation. He must have thought that I was weird.
That night in bed, I could not get him out of my mind. And not just because I fancied him as a sex-partner, much as I did. My heart seemed to be beating more strongly and I had a strange feeling in my stomach, a sort of fluttery feeling. Could I possibly be in love?
When I first started work, I was placed under the wing of a woman old enough to be my mother, but so different from my real mother. Molly was an earthy south-Londoner, at first I thought that she was foul-mouthed, but gradually realised that the four letter words that she used were always sex associated, they were not used as swear words. On the same day that I joined the company there was another newbie, a young man who seemed to think that we were somehow in competition. And he was going to win.
It upset me at first, but when I confessed this to Molly, she said;
"He is no better than you, he thinks he is because he has a cock between his legs, but with what you've got between yours, you can have as many of those as you please. Just do your job and see if I'm right."
After that she became my friend as well as my mentor, and sure enough, under her guidance I outstripped my nemesis, he was asked to leave after a year. Molly and I began to take lunch together and she taught me much more than how to do my job. She loved sex, she would arrive in the morning saying that she had little sleep the night before,
"We were fucking 'till dawn."
Her husband, a fire-fighter, lived life for the moment. He also had a high sex-drive, they fucked most days, several times on weekend days, when they didn't fuck she would;
"Suck him off and drink his spunk," or "Wank each other senseless."
He was, she said, very good with his tongue. She also;
"Liked it up the arse."
She told me that I should not settle for nappies and a mortgage, if I was careful I could have it all, money, good sex, anything that I chose.
She had been married previously but he had died young. She missed him still, her 'new bloke' was good, but her first had been exceptional. I asked how he died.
"Heart attack," she replied. "My fault I suppose, he was fucking me at the time. I was on top, I have always liked 'cowgirl'. He had already come twice, but I wanted more. I suppose you could say that I fucked him to death, but at least he died happy. I loved him to bits."
I asked how I would know when Mr Right came along.
"You will just know." Was all she would say.
Was Nick my Mr Right? Oh yes.
The day after the party, my mobile 'phone rang - 'Unknown caller'. It was Nick. I had left the party somewhat the worse for drink, without knowing anything other than his name. He had asked our host for my number, could we meet again? We dated a couple of times, then I took him to my bed. He was dynamite. For three hours with no more than a break for the loo, we sucked and fucked. Condoms of course for the fucking, but he filled several until we ran out. He also came twice in my mouth and again when I gave him a goodnight wank and sent him away, I was exhausted. He was insatiable.
We became regular lovers and eventually stopped using condoms. He came in such quantities that I could feel him spurt inside me, he was a sex-superman. He claimed that it was all my fault, that I inspired him, that I was possibly the most fuckable woman on earth.
One rainy Saturday afternoon, we tested his repeatability. He fucked me eight times in six hours, coming each time. He had to rest for all of the next day though.
Oh yes, he was my Mr Right. We married as soon as we were able.
Why then , did I cheat?
We had a blazing row about something so trivial that I can't remember what it was about. It was a Saturday and we had been invited to a housewarming party at Nick's boss' new house. I made it clear in no uncertain terms, that Nick would be going by himself. But we had never before had such an invitation, surely it signalled that Nick was 'on the up'? It would have been churlish of me to jeopardise any chance of promotion. I decided that I was a good enough actress to convince his boss that I was the supportive wife.
I stayed by Nick's side, playing 'the little woman', until I felt that I had done enough. Formalities over and fuelled by drink, guest were starting to circulate. Nick and I agreed to circulate separately, i.e. get as far away from each other as possible.
I drank too much, Champagne -- the world's most effective knicker remover, and flirted with every man present. I ended up trapped in a corner by an absolute hunk of a man whose name was Richard. I don't know what we talked about, lust was overpowering memory. I fancied him rotten. Suddenly, he looked around, checking that the coast was clear, then kissed me. Very quick, a stolen kiss, but I could feel his erection against my belly as he did it. My nipples stiffened.
He said that he was going to excuse himself and leave the room, I was to follow after an appropriate delay. There was no sign of him in the hallway, there were several rooms off including the downstairs loo, but that was in constant use and there were people in all of the other rooms. Except one. Richard's head appeared around the door, then his hand, beckoning me. The room was normally used as a study or home office, but was being used as a temporary cloakroom. The desk had been pushed against the back wall, in front of it were two hanging rails on wheels, hired for the event and overflowing with coats. Richard pulled me behind them, they would provide cover should anyone enter the room. As a further precaution, he switched off the light.
We kissed properly, he cupped my buttocks and pulled me hard against his stiff cock, grinding it against me. Then he worked my skirt up until it was around my waist before returning to my now naked bum. I was wearing the skimpiest thong, there was just a shoe-lace between my buttocks. A suspender belt held up my sheer black stockings. His fingers found the straps framing my backside. He groaned and muttered;
"Sussies, you sexy little cunt."
I am not little. And normally I would have objected to being called a cunt, I have one, I am not one. But at that moment, that is exactly what I was -- a greedy, hungry cunt, desperate to be fed.
I fumbled for his belt. He helped. I unzipped his flies and fished out his rigid cunt-feeder. It felt perfect for my needs, and he was probably as ready as I was, but just to make sure that it was fully primed, I dropped to my knees and sucked it into my mouth. Yes, it would do. He warned me that it was ready to fire and I reluctantly let it slip from my lips, I had a place more needy than my mouth. He slipped my knickers down and I stepped out of them, then he lifted me so that I was perched on the edge of the desk. I spread my legs wide, took his prong in both hands and fed him into my juicy slot.
He drove it home in one thrust, causing me to yelp. He shushed me, then began to pump. He fucked hard and fast, just what I needed. It must have been less than a minute until he was emptying his load into me, biting my shoulder to mute his cries as he spurted. He softened quickly and slipped out, kissed me once more and told me to wait a few minutes before following him out.
I spent those minutes in the dim light looking for my knickers, but did not find them. Either they were hooked up in someone's coat, making an interesting find for them, or more likely, my stud had taken them as a souvenir. Annoying. They had not been cheap. My first destination was the loo, to inspect the damage. There were teeth marks on my shoulder that would take some explaining.
When I emerged from the loo, someone was about to leave and was collecting coats from the cloakroom. We had had a narrow escape. I went back into the room to collect my coat, making another quick knicker-hunt, now with the light on, but without success. There was a silk scarf tucked inside the arm of my coat, I wrapped it around my neck to conceal my love-bite, then carried my coat into the big room, found Nick and told him that I wanted to go.
In the taxi home, Nick was bubbling with excitement, he thought that the party had been a great success. He put his arm around me, kissed me and thanked me for supporting him. I then feigned sleep, resting my head on his shoulder. He placed his hand on my thigh, thankfully over the skirt. If he had put his hand inside, his fingers would have encountered a sticky, just-fucked prize.
I managed to slip into bed without revealing the badge left by my knee-trembler. We always both sleep naked so that there is nothing between us but love. I turned my back on him, he pressed himself against my back, ready for his congugals. I muttered that I was too tired, he fell asleep cuddling me, I lay awake feeling very guilty.
The next morning, the enormity of my actions hit me with a bang. Unprotected sex with a stranger. It would take weeks before I knew if there was any damage other than a love-bite. How could I keep it from Nick? We had sex of some kind practically every day. When my main road was closed for monthly maintenance, I used my hands or mouth as substitutes. And nearly always naked. I had no option but to come confess. To come clean about being dirty.
My news did not go down well. At first, Nick laughed, thinking that it was just a turn-on. I showed him my mark. He was silent for several minutes, then left the room. A few minutes later, I heard the front door close, his car started and he was gone in a shower of gravel. He returned very late, going straight into the spare bedroom and closing the door. I did not see him again until he left for work, much earlier than usual, we normally caught the same train. He put his head around the kitchen door and said;
"You'd better get yourself checked."
Then he was gone.
I found the number of a private clinic close to where I work, they were not yet open but I kept trying, eventually getting an appointment during my lunch-break. The initial test showed clear, but the full test would take two agonising weeks.
I knew all about the waiting, I had done it before. I am fully aware of the risks from casual sex, I had always taken precautions, but there had been a couple of mistakes and I had travelled this route before. But they had been during my putting-it-about years, never while I was in a steady relationship, so by using condoms, my sex life was barely interrupted. Would Nick forgive me enough to do this? I bought two dozen large-sized condoms in the hope that he would. I did not want to lose this one, he was not replaceable. And I loved him.
He was not back in time for dinner that evening, returning after ten. I told him my news, he grunted and went to bed. In our bed this time, I was hopeful. I slid naked into bed beside him and told him that I had bought condoms, or if he preferred, I would wank him off. He grunted again. Was that yes or no. I got my answer in a most unexpected way. He pushed back the duvet and wanked himself off, catching his cum in a tissue. Then he turned his back on me. A very original way of punishing me. And it hurt.
After that, life returned to normal, apart from no sex. Of any kind. If he was wanking, he did it in private. I tried his trick, lying by his side and masturbating, but I was ignored. At last the results from the clinic arrived, I was clear. I told Nick my news, but he just said;
"Good. Get it done again to be sure."
By the time the results of the second test arrived, we were back together. Still no sex, but we had talked about how to celebrate a clear result. On the Saturday following the news, we would have a fuck-fest. It would be like starting all over again. I could hardly wait, not since I had first lost my virginity had I spent so long deprived of cock.
I prepared a special dinner, we had wine with it. The whole meal was foreplay. We did not get to the dessert. Or rather, we were each other's dessert. Nick took me by the hand and led me upstairs to our bedroom. He unzipped my dress and helped me remove it. We had dressed for dinner, not black-tie, Nick was in slacks and a smart-but-casual shirt, I had worn a cocktail dress. Beneath it was new underwear, I had made sure that Nick had not seen it until he undressed me. I wore what to me seemed to be a cross between a basque and a teddy, not remotely frilly, it was constructed from sheer black chiffon, with vertical ribbons, more like a cage than a garment. Four of the ribbons extended to form suspenders, supporting sheer, black seamed stockings. The thing had a half-bra, providing platforms for my tits, but not concealing them. Sheer, see-through knickers that had no practical purpose whatsoever, and high heeled shoes, completed the outfit. If I had added a mask and a riding crop, I could have passed as a dominatrix.
But domination was not my plan, tonight I was the submissive, I would do anything Nick asked. If he had wanted to fuck me with the wine bottle, wide end first, I would have meekly spread my legs. This was unlikely to happen, but I made a mental note of the idea for future use.
Nick stripped off completely and gently pushed me back onto the bed. He parted and lifted my legs so that I was spread for his use. He opened his mouth wide and placed it on my nylon covered cunt, and gently blew warm breath into me. I squealed with delight at the feeling of being inflated. He sucked me off through the knickers, causing me to climax powerfully and noisily. I almost fainted with pleasure at the release of four weeks frustration.
He moved above me, his cock bristling with lust and told me to pull the knickers aside so that he could enter me, and filled me with his lovely big, very hard cock. He fucked me steadily like this for ages, the edge of my knickers must have chafed his shaft as he drilled it into me, how he managed to keep from coming, I will never know.
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him and without uncoupling. The fuck resumed, this time with him pumping up into me. At last his resistance failed, he gave a gurgling noise and pulled me down, impaling me completely, keeping very still. I felt his seed spurt, long powerful jets of his precious essence flooding me.
In my lust drugged mind, he was releasing all of the spunk saved up from four weeks abstinence, I imagined it to be too much for my tightly packed cunt to take and it spilled out, running down over his balls. I felt a familiar tingle from somewhere deep inside, rippling out to affect my whole body. I was coming, just by having Nick's cock inside me. It had never happened before. This time I did pass out.
My eyes swam back in to focus, taking in my surroundings. I was slumped on top of Nick. I raised my body up from him, looking into his brown eyes, and said faintly;
"I came."
"I noticed," he replied gently.
Not right then, but I have since calculated that I must have been fucked between three and five thousand times since the first time. I had never before achieved orgasm through penetration alone. I had been close, but always failed to reach the summit. I had come with a cock inside me many times, but always with help from my fingers or those of my fucker. I have no problem coming from oral or manual stimulation, be just from fucking? No. I know that this is the same for possibly more than half the sexually active female population, but it was nice to have left their ranks.
I had known when I first met, that he was the one, just as Molly had foretold, but any lingering doubts had just been washed away on a wave of spunk from the man I loved dearly.
I was in a daze, he was speaking;
"Bring it back up here," he said.
I smiled knowingly and a shiver of pleasure coursed through me. He wanted to lick me again, this time with his cum running out of my hole. He loves it, I love it. How many men will do this? He was the only one I had known who would happily drink his own spunk.
Part of our very close, and I believed very strong relationship, was openness. Everybody masturbates, why not share the experience? As pleasant as it is as a solo pursuit, it can be better still with an audience. I often encouraged him to rub himself off for my pleasure as well as his own, enjoying the power of his ejaculations, either just to watch, or to enjoy the sensation of the warm stuff spattering some part of my body. I also masturbated for his enjoyment, often we did it together.
He had told me about his early sexual development when he would bring himself off, catching the resulting flood in his mouth. He had done if for me at my request. So he was familiar with his own taste as he slurped it from my vessel. I came yet again.
This time we rested. And it was time to remove my ruined knickers.
I owed him a suck, and this was our next act. I love his cock in my mouth. It's big, but manageable. A goldilocks zone penis -- not too big, not too small, but just right. For me anyway. Just over six and a half inches long and over one and three-quarter inches thick. A good mouthful. I sucked his balls and rimmed his arse before making sure that his next delivery of love-juice was fired into my mouth. I drank it as though it was the finest wine.
Two times more he fucked me before we fell asleep, from behind doggy style, and finally from behind like spoons, this time up my arse. As he softened inside me, he murmured into my ear;
"If you feel that you need to fuck other men, I will not stand in your way, but you must take precautions."
I did not reply, but he knew that I had heard him. I needed time to absorb this.
"And I want to hear about it," he concluded. "Every detail."
His even breathing indicated that he had fallen asleep, but exhausted though I was from the intense sex that we had just shared, I could not sleep. Had I been mistaken in what I had heard? Had I just been given a free pass to whoredom? I eventually fell asleep counting dripping cocks.
At breakfast next morning, usually a leisurely affair, the only day that we have time for a cooked breakfast, he showed no indication of what he had said last night. I was itching for confirmation. I managed to get through the meal, but over coffee asked;
"What you said last night, did you mean it?"
"About fucking other men?" He said. "Yes."
He explained his thinking;
"I was angry about your behaviour at the party, but at the same time, turned on at the thought of it. Apparently, seeing your wife fucked by another man is one of the top ten male fantasies. It seems that it's one of mine."
"But you didn't see it, I told you about it," I countered.
"No, but I want you to describe the encounter now, every juicy detail. It will do until we can arrange for me to watch."
Arrange for him to watch? Oh my! I told him the story, trying to remember everything, I had of course been very drunk, but what alcohol had made hazy, my active imagination made up for. Richards cock became longer and thicker, the fuck lasted for minutes, not seconds, and of course, he shot about half a gallon of spunk into me. By the end, I was desperate for more, and Nick gave it to me, on the dining room table.
After we had cleared away the debris of sex and breakfast, I pressed Nick for more. How would I achieve any future assignations?
We both occasionally had to spend time away from home, business trips.
"Surely you are propositioned when you are alone in the hotels," he explained. "I have been. Usually by working girls, but there have been times when a conversation with a woman who, like me was away from home and lonely, could probably have been tempted. But I have always declined."
It was true of course, I had learned that if I sat in the bar alone after dinner, the offers would soon come. It was almost as though it was expected -- away from home was open season. I too, had always declined.
"So the next time I get an offer, I just say yes instead of no?"
"If you fancy him."
"And you will do the same?"
"Most certainly."
"And we take notes for afterwards?"
He laughed. "I'm sure that memory will suffice."
Weeks went by with neither of us getting the call to be away from home, Murphy's law at its most determined. I began to go off the idea, it lacked the spontaneity that my knee-trembler with Richard had. Eventually, and unknown to me, Nick lost his patience. My birthday was close, Nick told me to pack an overnight bag, we would dine out at a five star hotel and spend the night there. A Friday night.
I did as bid, not suspecting that he had a special present waiting for me. We dressed for dinner, Nick in a suit and me in a new slinky dress, under it were the usual accessories. The meal was quite wonderful, washed down with champagne. We retired to the lounge for coffee and brandy, the lounge had a bar. Coffee was served. Suddenly Nick excused himself to the gentleman's room. I recced the talent at the bar, several obviously working girls, and one rather attractive man. When Nick returned, he paused at the bar and exchanged a few words with the man.
"Who's that?" I enquired.
"Just another guest," he answered, "Are you ready for bed?"
I had been ready for bed all evening, but not for sleep. There was another couple in the lift, but this did not stop Nick from groping my arse all the way to our floor. In the room I placed my arms around his neck and said;
"I desperately need fucking."
There was a knock on the door, Nick opened it to admit the man he had spoken to at the bar.
"This is Lance," he said, "He is your birthday present."
He'd hired me a man!
Absurdly, we shook hands. He then asked if he could use the bathroom. In his absence, I mouthed to Nick;
"What the fuck?"
He nodded.
Yes, that's exactly what it is, you fuck him while I watch."
Lance returned, clad only in tight white boxer shorts. He was built like an athlete, an athlete with a cucumber down his shorts. And he was the colour of milk chocolate.
He took me in his arms and kissed me, his hands squeezing my bum cheeks as he pulled me against his half-hard cock. One hand found the catch at the top of my dress and he slid the zip down. We moved apart, the dress slipped down to the floor. I stepped out of it and he flipped it away with his toe. He moved me backwards until I bumped into the bed, falling onto it. Lance began an exploration of my body with his fingers, his lips and his tongue, skilfully removing my bra and knickers in the process. He sucked my bristling nipples until they screamed; "No more." Sensing this, he moved down and kissed all around my gaping hole, but not touching it. He leaned back from me, somehow, he had managed to remove his shorts, he was now naked. He was aptly named, a long, thin circumcised cock, bone hard, quivered in front of me. He asked if I would like to suck it. Silly question. I deep throated it, conscious that Nick had settled into a chair and was watching intently. This was what he wanted, another man's cock in my mouth, ready to spurt it's gift down my throat. I decided to give him a show and sucked Lance's magnificent weapon with all my skill.
It was Lance who called a halt, clearly I had brought him to crisis point, but he had not yet done his job. He pushed me back on the bed and spread my legs, then placed his mouth very close to my wildly lubricating hole. First he breathed warm breath onto it and as I shuddered with pleasure, dipped his tongue into the well.
I completely forgot about Nick as Lance expertly brought me to the tipping point over and over again, only to deny my release at the last second. I was moaning and muttering obscenities, cursing him for teasing me. Then I fell over the brink, a powerful orgasm racked my body, I pulled Lane's face into my crutch, wanting all of him inside me.
I was still coming when he slid his cock into me, pushing my orgasm to another level. He fucked me very hard and very fast, sensing my need for a brutal fuck, coming inside me, confident in the knowledge that he could repeat the performance if required.
He came copiously, I know this because when he withdrew his softened cock from me, the condom drooped heavily from it.
Condom? Where had that come from? How had he managed to suck my cunt and fit a rubber onto his dick at the same time? Multi-tasking at its best. I had been too cock hungry to remember that condoms were a condition of my freedom to fuck. If Lance had not been so conscientious, would I have made the same mistake as with Richard? This time my audience would certainly have intervened, but without Nick there?
Lance rolled another rubber over his re-erected tool-of-the-trade, turned me onto my front, pulled me onto all-fours and entered me again. This time he did not come, this time he fucked slowly and rhythmically, this time he used his fingers on my clit to ensure another earth-moving climax for me.
We took a break, Lance went back into the bathroom, Nick poured me glass of water. Nick had removed his jacket and tie, but was otherwise fully dressed. His erection tented the front of his trousers, he was enjoying this.
Lance returned, his fine cock now limp. He invited me to;
"Suck it back to life."
He must have washed it, there was no rubber taste as I drew him between my lips again. I was now conscious of Nick's presence, I made sure that he had a good view as I restored the patient to full health. This time I gave him the full treatment, as well as feasting on his hard cock, I sucked his balls and rimmed his arse. Again it was Lance who called a halt. He lay back on the bed and invited me to sit on his face. My favourite.
He would not stop, I lost count of my orgasms. At long last, Lance moved me down off his face and impaled me on his cock. When it became obvious that I would not come again like this, he encouraged me to rub myself off as he fucked up into me.
It was over. Lance returned to the bathroom yet again, this time returning fully dressed. Nick showed him to the door, discreetly handing him an envelope. His fee.
Alone together at last, Nick quickly undressed and fucked me three times in quick succession before we fell asleep exhausted.
Eventually, it was me who had to make a trip. Edinburgh, I would fly there, stay overnight and return next day. I called Nick at work to inform him. All he said was;
"Okay."
He arrived home with packages, he had been shopping. He had bought a small video camera and a beautiful hand-tooled leather vanity case. Second-hand, 50's vintage, but like new. He would not explain. After dinner, he disappeared into the garage - his workshop, not emerging until late.
He demonstrated the little box of tricks that he had made. He had cut a hole in the front of the case and fixed the camera inside, looking through the spy-hole.
"When you pull," he explained, he seemed confident that I would, "Take him to your room, you will have set this up previously. When you are ready to fuck, say that you have condoms in the case, which you will have, switch the camera on and let it do the rest."
I was gobsmacked. He had it all worked out. He wanted a home movie of my infidelity!
We went to bed and he insisted that I practice with the spy-cam, leaving the light on while he fucked me enthusiastically. The camera worked a treat.
I found it difficult to concentrate on the meeting that I had travelled so far to attend, I could not get the image of my porn-movie debut out of my mind. The meeting must have gone well, the chairman thanked me for my contribution. That was it. Next up, dinner and seduction.
From the half-dozen or so candidates, I selected a hunky French man. I had never fucked a Frenchman, they had a reputation as the world's best lovers and I wanted to find out.
I took him to my room, we snogged standing up, with his hands exploring my arse through my dress. He unzipped it and helped me step out of it, I was wearing the full fuck-me outfit beneath, lacy bra and pants, suspenders and stockings. The bra followed the dress, then the pants. His turn. I stripped him naked, he was as good as I expected, tall, well built, and with a massive erection.
I told him to get on the bed, I had condoms in my vanity case. With trembling hands, I started the camera. This was it.
It was all over ten minutes later. He wanted no foreplay, he did not even want his cock in my mouth. He spread me on the bed, checked that I was wet enough, (I was, I had been ready all day for this.) pushed his cock into me and fucked me hard and fast until he came. He then dressed, thanked me and said goodnight.
What a disappointment. I spoke to the camera;
"You have to fuck a lot of frogs before you find a prince."
I turned off the camera and went to bed. I masturbated myself to sleep, thinking just how good a fuck Nick was.
We played the movie over and over, having a good laugh about it. It was after all, a farce, if not exactly a comedy.
There was a follow-up meeting the following week. I stayed at the same hotel. The meeting dragged on, I was late back for dinner. In the bar afterwards, only one man was available. He looked an unlikely candidate, short, with gingery hair. But my handsome frog had failed me last time, perhaps...
He was charming and amusing. And Scottish. But he lived in London, was a structural engineer, and was in Edinburgh sorting out a problem with a building under construction. The architect had made a disastrous error, he was there to see if it could be remedied.
After a couple of drinks I invited him to my room. I agonised over the decision, I had not prepared, I had not even showered before dinner, I was still in my business suit. This did not bother my Rob Roy. He wanted me just as I was.
I was gagging for it, but I remembered to position and turn on the spy-cam, although I felt bad about tricking this charming man. We undressed ourselves, I stripped the duvet off the bed, turning it into a dais for our performance. He was incredibly gentle, caressing, kissing and licking me all over. His gentleness did not suit my mood. I wanted a cock inside me, when he moved to use his tongue on my clit, I begged him to fuck me, hoping that he was not a one-shot pistol. He obliged. Together, we rolled the condom onto a cock that was like him -- quite short but sturdily built, and with red hair!
It felt wonderful as he fed it into my yearning slot. He let it soak for a short time before he began his movements, which were as gentle as his foreplay, long slow strokes allowing me to feel him moving inside me without the vigorous pumping. I enjoyed it for a while, but it was not what I needed, I needed banging. My cajoling for him to fuck me harder only worked up to a point, he was determined to make it last.
I lost patience. I am able to control my muscles in that part of me, Nick loves it, I have managed to make him come inside me without him having to thrust, Nick describes it as being sucked off by a cunt. Rob Roy, (Not his name of course.) was in for a surprise.
Clearly he had never enjoyed the sensation before. He gave a surprised yelp and shot his cum into the rubber bag separating us. A generous come at that, he pulled out of me and raised himself off me, the condom hung from his softening dick, heavy with his gift.
Quite what this achieved was now lost on me. I had yet to orgasm and what if he was spent? He carefully removed the filled rubber and wrapped it in tissues, placing it on the bedside table. He lay down alongside me and placed his arm around my shoulders.
"Where did you learn to do that?" He asked.
I played innocent, I felt that I had cheated him.
"What do you mean?"
"It doesn't matter," he said. "Thank you, it was most enjoyable."
I fondled his limp prick, it responded encouragingly.
"Would you like me to suck it?" I asked.
"Very much." He replied.
I bent to my pleasant task and treated him to a second class cock-suck. A first class suck incudes anal rimming, and I was not sure yet that he deserved that. But I licked and kissed his shaft from tip to balls and back again, sucked his balls and then deep-throated him. He warned me that he was close to coming again. I released my oral grip on him long enough to say;
"Give it to me."
Now it was my turn to be surprised, he released a powerful and plentiful stream onto my back teeth, he must have fired more than a dozen generous spurts as I struggled to suck and swallow at the same time, gagging over the amount of it. He had told me earlier that he was recently divorced and was not currently seeing anybody, did this mean that he had been saving it? I was impressed.
We took a break for drinks, chatting about all kinds of things. I was beginning to feel at ease with this man. When we returned to the foreplay, he shyly asked if I would, "Play with myself." for him. I wanted to, I really needed a come and if I was going to have to wank myself off, it would be sweeter with an audience than by myself after he had left. But I remembered the hidden camera, was this a bridge too far? I had only ever done this for Nick, I could hardly 'phone and ask his permission.
Lust won. I instructed Rob to squat between my widespread thighs so that he could get the best view, parted my wet outer lips and began my performance. I began by pushing one finger as far into my cunt as it would go, moaning for effect. Another finger followed, then a third. I began to tease my clit with the fingers other hand. Very soon, I closed my eyes and drifted into fantasy-land. My fantasy was of Richard, fucking me frantically against the edge of the desk and firing his spunk into me as I came. Me, not a condom, but into me.
When I came down, Rob was watching me with a look of awe on his face.
"That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He said quietly.
He changed position, face between my thighs and pressed his mouth against my inflamed, sopping cunt, licking my juice from wherever he could find it, cleaning me. He pushed his tongue deep inside my cave, scouring it before focusing his attention on my still sensitive clit. He sucked expertly, occasionally stopping so that he could ream my cunt with his tongue, lick my perineum and do what I had shirked from doing to him - licking and sucking my arse-hole before returning his skilful attention to my clitoris.
Perhaps it was the self-induced orgasm continued, or perhaps it was an entirely new one. It mattered not, what mattered was that it was a bomb. And while I was still riding it, Rob managed to fit another rubber over his straining cock and feed it into me. This time he gave me the fuck I had craved all along, hard and fast. He fucked like a porn-stud, I hung on for the ride. This time, he roared like a bull when he came.
He rolled off exhausted, laughing with pleasure.
"I have been fantasising about someone like you since I was thirteen," he laughed. "Will you marry me?"
"I'm already married," I laughed back.
"He's a very luck man." He responded.
He stayed all night. We didn't sleep much.
I awoke with a desperate need to pee. It was seven o'clock, the room lights were still on, we had fucked the night away. I shook him awake and told him he had to leave. He asked for my 'phone number, I refused, but he insisted in giving me his. I rang room service for orange juice, coffee and croissants to be sent up. A pity, because this particular hotel's cooked breakfasts are legendary, but I had no time. I cleared away the signs of our night of debauchery, six filled condoms, each carefully wrapped in tissues. Six times? Plus the load that I had swallowed. Perhaps he was not Rob Roy, but a reincarnation of Ivanhoe. He could certainly use his lance.
I made it on time for my meeting, but only just. Bleary-eyed , bow-legged and just a little bit sore, I presented myself at the conference room. The chairman asked if I was unwell.
"A touch of Scottish 'flu perhaps?" I replied.
I could hardly tell him that I had just been fucked six times by a complete stranger could I?
On the flight home, a flight attendant admired my leather case, where could she get one like it? I told her that it had been a gift and wished her luck in finding one. Would hers carry the secret compartment that mine had? I doubt it. I had not seen the movie, I had forgotten to turn the camera off and the battery was flat. It was after dinner that Nick and I settled in front of the TV, to watch my debut as a porn-star.
The film showed, fairly clearly, my first fuck with Rob, then the beginning of the mouth-job that I had treated him to. Then it went blank. Nick fiddled with it, but that was it. The next day, he took the camera, (But not the film!) back to the shop. The assistant patiently explained that in the UK, still cameras are limited to 30 minutes use as a video, some kind of rule about how if they run for longer than that, they are considered to be video cameras and subject to different taxation.
"It tells you in the user's guide, in the small print." He concluded.
Nick was not impressed. The assistant reluctantly agreed to buy it back as second-hand, in part exchange for what he called an 'action-cam'. These are the sort of thing that sports people fix to themselves while skydiving and such.
"Will it work for muff-diving?" I asked Nick.
Nick was the first to use the new camera, he had modified a leather briefcase to hold the thing. His trip, as it often was, was to Liverpool, with an overnight stay. The new camera was much more sophisticated and could be operated via a smartphone. Not only that, it could link wirelessly to the phone and send images to another 'phone. If Nick scored, I could watch the action live! He showed me how to connect my 'phone to the TV, so that I could watch in widescreen H.D.
He scored. At about nine o'clock, he called me and told me to switch on, his 'date' was in the bathroom. My TV filled with a view of his bedroom, with a side view of the bed. I watched Nick undress and lie on the bed, his cock was not yet erect, but on the way. His date appeared in the picture, also naked. A good looking woman about my age, taller, slimmer but with bigger tits. She was blonde, but her sparse dark pubes suggested that it was not natural. She mounted the bed alongside my husband, and they began to snog. Nick rolled her onto her back and raised himself so that he could kiss her and caress her fine body as he did so, concentrating at first on those firm tits. His lower half was hidden from view, but I had a pretty good idea that she had a good grip on his meat.
He moved his hand down to her vee, she spread her legs to allow him access. Nick gently brought her to her first orgasm this way, then moved above her, his rubber clad cock pointing at its target. She guided him inside her and wrapped her legs around him as they fucked.
I had been playing with my clit since the show started, I had my first orgasm as Nick entered his part-time partner. She came again, just from fucking! Why could I not do that? I came again as Nick cried out his own passion, all that lovely spunk caught in the condom, what a waste.
They lay side by side, recovering, kissing, fondling. Nick was soon ready for seconds. She moved down to suck his cock. Nick enjoyed this for several minutes, then suggested sixty-nine. She straddled him and took his cock back into her mouth as his tongue explored her inside. She sucked well. I came again. She came shortly after, releasing Nick's prong so that she could wail out her climax.
She dismounted, this time onto the other side of Nick's body. She wrapped her hand around his still full cock and spoke for the first time;
"Can I watch you come?"
Nick gave his permission. She was in for a surprise. I know from delicious first-hand experience, that even though Nick had just been relieved of his first load, his second coming was usually even more powerful and copious. Nick was about to pepper the headboard with cum. What she had already had was just the starter, now for the main course.
I was not disappointed, she was astonished. She squealed with surprise and delight as his shots hit the headboard and the wall above. I could visualise it, running down in rivulets of spunk. I came again.
Nick recovers quickly, this was no exception. Nick placed his paramour on her knees, arse in the air, and went to work on her again with his mouth. I could not see what he was doing with his tongue, but I could well imagine it, both target and observer were taken through wave after wave of orgasm. He rubbered up again and began to fuck what he had prepared with his tongue, she raised herself up on her arms and I could see her tits swinging in time with his stabs. Nick must have been close to coming again, he slowed to a stop and held himself deep inside her. She turned her head to speak to him, and me;
"Do the other hole as well." She husked.
She reached for her handbag, in it she had a small tube of the lubricant that Nick and I use for anal sex. She handed it to him. His cock was still in her cunt. I had a fine view as he lubed up the other entrance, pushing his thumb inside and working the slick gel deep inside her. She was making a low keening noise the whole time.
Nick withdrew from the front door and pushed into the back in one smooth practised movement. Practised with me. She howled as his lovely big cock forced her passage. Nick buggered her with such force, I thought that it might damage her, but she loved it, urging him to go harder, faster. Nick's resolve failed him. He roared as his seed poured from him.
They fell sideways, still coupled. Now I could see only Nick's back. They stayed like this for several minutes, then she appeared as she sat up. She leaned down and kissed him once on the mouth. She said something that I could not hear and disappeared into the bathroom.
Nick came over to where the camera was hidden and un-muted his 'phone so that he could hear me. He blew me a kiss and said;
"That's all folks. Get everything?"
"She certainly did." I replied.
She came back into the room fully dressed, Nick hastily hit the mute button again. She thanked him, kissed him on the cheek and Nick let her out. Nick came back to the phone.
"Well, did you?"
"Every squelch. I've wanked myself sore."
"Not too sore I hope, I will want a re-run when I get home."
I slept well that night.
