1st November 2013
Anna
I almost fall through the door, desperate to escape the past few hours, my mind is awash with the intensity from which I have just run. The closing of the door, the clicking of the latch allowing me to take a deep breath, to exhale him from my thoughts, even if only for a few brief moments.
Turning to take in my surroundings, the muffled sound of the party seeping through the door, the distant sounds of laughter and occasional shrieks still fill me. I have to get farther away, needing my solitude. I need the calm, the quiet.
I need to think.
My eyes searching the darkened room; the deep, opulent sofas, the subtle lighting bathing the room in shadows that dance to flickering candlelight, as though my presence has invaded their sanctuary. The soft, shaded lamps, the rich, deep coloured walls, the dark mahogany sideboards seem as though they might have been made for the Sultans or Kings of bygone eras. The bohemian seductiveness of the room reeks as I am breathing it in.
Walking towards the dimly lit booth at the back of the room, sitting on the soft, dark leather bench, its cushions pulling me down into them, inviting me to calm myself. Pouring more wine into my glass, slumping down slightly, I am taking a deep swallow of the rich red liquid, holding it in my mouth, allowing its flavours to reach every part of me, rolling it around my tongue, its scent filling my nostrils. Leaning my head back, closing my eyes, the richness of the wine warming my stomach. Taking a deep breath, sighing, feeling the tension starting to ebb from me, my body no longer taut.
I linger for a moment, clearing my mind, emptying my thoughts. The wine, the quiet, the solitude are all taking me away from here, taking me away from now.
Suddenly, my peace is shattered by the din of the party raging through the doorway as it is carelessly flung open, ripping me back from my solitude. My eyes are immediately open and alert, searching for the cause, my senses suddenly alive. The door is instantly closed, the room once more returned to me, except that something is different, something has changed.
Straining my eyes through the half light, I see the couple by the doorway. My body stiffening, freezing as though I have committed some indiscretion by hiding away. I shrink further down into the cushions, eager to remain silent in the shadows, which welcome me to them, grateful to receive more of me. I can see them glancing around the room; their excited, careless look passing over me, seeming not to notice me. I am beginning to relax again, content that I remain anonymous, my breathing starting to calm, willing myself to return to my thoughts.
Watching them for a moment, my eyes probing them, taking them in, their bodies mere silhouettes against the deep, ruby red wall that they now lean against. There is a familiarity to me, I am searching my memory to find them, yet they remain just out of my reach. My eyes now adjusting, straining to see those who have entered my privacy, I think that I have seen him, I know that I have. Is it the tall, lithe man who had caught my attention at the bar? He had been glanced at by more than just me, his athleticism, his strong set jaw, his unkempt blonde hair had all oozed an allure of youthful innocence, the very thing that had caught my eye to begin with. I had wondered at the time if he realised how striking he is. Yes, I’m sure that is him.
Searching them, reading their forms, surveying them, watching his strong hand brushing through her soft hair. His hand is gently stroking her cheek, her eyes locked on his, their playful glint teasing him. Her tall, slender body quivering at his touch, straining her neck upwards, her lips parting slightly inviting him to her. He is leaning down, his lips brushing against hers, their tongues gently flick, just the faintest of touches, but enough for both of them to know the depths of each other’s need. His hand wrapping around her back, pulling her closer to him, his other cupping the nape of her neck. His strength pulling her in as he kisses her passionately, her response immediate, unequivocal.
I realise that my cheeks are flushing, the warm redness in them growing as I am transfixed by the couple’s kiss. I can feel the heat in my body, the sensation of it relaxing deeper into the cushions, sliding down further. I can’t help but think that I should not be a part of their intimate moment, that I am an intruder, yet I cannot move my eyes from them for the fear of being noticed, and yet, also through the excitement of seeing them locked in their embrace, their kisses growing deeper, more frantically passionate. I am making no effort to avert my gaze, becoming more entranced with each movement of their lips.
His hands are starting to move over the curve of her hips, gliding around, squeezing her thigh before moving back up, lightly glancing over her navel, brushing against her nipple which immediately stiffens beneath her blouse. I hear a faint gasp escape her lips, her desire clear in that moment. Without thinking, so lost in this moment, I am slowly stroking my body, circling my breasts, my fingers pinching my nipple, a faint ache starting to grow within me. My mind is wrestling with my body, telling me to stop, telling me to turn away, yet the desire I am feeling is too strong, too powerful to overcome. I grasp my breast, massaging it urgently, teasing it, my ache growing ever deeper.
She takes his hand, guiding him to the sofa, kneeling before him. His hands are reaching down, running through her hair as she frantically opens his trousers, sliding them to the floor, his cock immediately springing up, beautiful and rigid before her. She is staring in amazement at his magnificence, the glint in her eyes playing in the light. Grasping him in her hand, she is taking his manhood into her mouth, her head moving slowly, softly, up and down its length, pulling back to reveal the strand of saliva that joins them together, before plunging her mouth deep onto him again.
My breathing is becoming more intense watching the beauty of the scene unfolding before me. Clasping my breasts, moving my other hand down, pulling my skirt upwards, touching myself through my panties, massaging the folds of my pussy. I want him; I want it to be me who is before him at his knees. I want it to be me who has his magnificence in my hands, in my mouth. My thoughts are betraying me, my mind is giving way. My hands are pulling my panties down, eager for access, the cool air against my nakedness sending a shiver through me.
The woman is urgently strips off her clothes, no thought of seduction in her mind, just the carnal need to be taken, to be kissed, to be entered. I am gasping now, watching as she lies on the sofa. Her form is one of beauty, the curve of her breasts, her flat stomach, the slightly raised mound of her pussy evident between her thighs; her toned, slender legs stretched out. He is gazing down at her, kneeling beside her, his fingers are running over her body, his mouth kissing her nipples. She is moaning as his fingers slip between her legs, out of my view, yet the motion of his hand telling me that he is inside her.
I am parting myself, moving my fingers inside, gasping at the feel of my own touch, almost too loudly. In my mind his fingers are inside me, feeling my velvet, smooth pussy, savouring my most intimate of places. Freezing momentarily, I am looking intently at the couple, the woman’s head now resting to the side, her gaze in my direction feeling as though she is penetrating my soul. I cannot tell if she can see me, I don’t think that she can, yet she does not avert her gaze for what feels like an eternity, only broken by him moving his mouth downward, pulling her away from me. A trickle of my moisture is running down my thigh, running down onto the cushion beneath me, my excitement becoming heightened as the fear of being caught increases, yet it is also urging me on, watching as his tongue starts flicking between her thighs, his mouth closing around her.
He is kneeling between her legs, his manhood lowering, twitching as he is nudging against her, begging to be allowed. Her gasps are reaching my hazy mind, her deep moaning as he enters her is drawing me further in. Moving slowly at first, in and out, my fingers are matching their rhythm, matching their pace. My own mind wanting to cry aloud as she cries out at each of his thrusts; wanting to be beneath his body, wanting to have him filling me, wanting his pleasure for my own.
He is becoming more urgent, more powerful inside her, his body is straining. Taking his hair in her hands, pulling his head down toward her body, she is looking towards me once more, her eyes appear to be fixed on me, fixed on my shadowy corner, boring through the darkness into me. With no control I am staring back, looking into the pools of her eyes, awash with her carnal pleasure, soaking it up into my own soul. I don’t know if she can see me, I don’t care anymore if she can see me. Deep down I want her to, I want her to know that I am here, that I am a part of this. I want her to know that in this moment he is mine as well.
Lost in them, lost in us, the ache inside me is welling up, its fury starting to turn to uncontrollable rage. He is thrusting into her, his animalistic cries are ringing in my ears, his hips plunging deeper, harder, she is moaning loudly. His body is convulsing, her back is arching upwards, locking them together, their orgasms searing through their bodies. My insides are contracting, pulsing around my fingers as I am watching them buck and writhe, the waves ripping through me, small gasps escaping my mouth, my fingers clenched deep by the power of the orgasm that shatters my mind and racks my body. I am starting to calm, the shuddering in my body beginning to ease, my mind starting to return, bringing me back from the swirling maelstrom of pleasure in which I have been lost.
The couple are dressing, their laughter is heard through my dazed senses. They are kissing, walking towards the door, opening it to leave. She is looking into my secret corner, can she see me with my panties round my ankles, my fingers still inside? I can’t tell if she is smiling, before they turn and leave.
Meeting a stranger for sex – a true story (Part 1)
He was a stranger.
I was meeting him for the first time.
A fantasy of mine.
We had exchanged a few electronic words only.
All I knew about him was he was from Suffolk and was a wedding and boudoir photographer who attended sex parties.
I lived a sheltered life in a sexless marriage for 20 years and was a faithful loyal wife.
My husband and I had slept in separate beds and lived like brother and sister.
Deprived of kisses and cuddles and of any intimacy. My husband felt he was showing his love by buying me things, immaterial possessions.
I no longer found my husband attractive or desirable.
I had put an end to my marriage and was now separated and single at last.
I was about to give myself to a complete stranger.
Free of conforming to any rules, ideals or restrictions.
No holds barred except for dirty, sweaty fun!
General day to day living seemed to turn me on and I could see the sexual inappropriateness in everything around me even if it wasn’t there.
I was on heat!
A week of anticipation waiting for Saturday night to arrive when we will meet for the first time.
It was such a horny feeling, my pussy was constantly wet, swollen and aching. I refrained from relieving myself to add to the intensity of Saturday night
Saturday 16th February 2013 at 7.30pm, London Bridge
A private apartment booked ready for our fuck fest.
A week of exchanged words expertly worked up into a frenzy by a stranger.
I was fuelled and ready.
I wondered every second of each day what it would be like to kiss him, taste him, touch him, fuck him…..
Would he fancy me, would I fancy him, would he be crap at sex, would he be amazing at sex, would he have an hidden agenda, would he axe murder me!, etc., etc., etc., doubts and fantasy played with my mind.
Workouts at the gym had paid off, body looking good, sexy and firm.
A week of beauty treatments, waxing, pedicure, manicure, massages, hair coloured/treated, blow-dried, oil baths and creams to soften my skin.
Saturday night arrived. It seemed like forever. Bloody weekdays getting in the way!
Bursting with pent up nervous feelings of joy, desire, lust and passion.
Scared but very excited.
Admiring myself in the mirror after rubbing expensive intoxicating body cream into my soft silky skin.
Dressing myself in a sophisticated sexy black corset and stockings just as the stranger had asked me to wear.
Long pointy nails painted a racy red, very high black patent leather heels , short black skater skirt and a low cut back and front lacy black top, long soft blonde bouncy hair and lips painted a glossy red.
A spray of something intoxicating and captivating.
Ready and prepared to be a slut for one night only.
Waiting to submit and surrender myself to be handled and fucked by a complete stranger
Will I be penetrated hard or softly, touched and groped, tied-up, whipped , spanked, sodomized, tortured in any delicious horny way possible.
I wonder what he had in mind for me….
About to ring the buzzer at the private apartment.
My head is buzzing, my heart is thumping and my stomach is filled with butterflies.
He was at the door opening it flashing me a sexy smile and helping me in with my overnight bag.
A thrill of excitement shot through me when I lustfully saw how sexy and cute and handsome he was in person instead of two obscure photos I had previously seen.
He has that just got out of the shower look.
He smells divine.
I immediately fancy him.
I wonder if he will slip into me before saying hello.
He says hi and makes small talk.
The attraction is there.
I desperately want him.
My lips and pussy are throbbing and swollen in anticipation of what was to happen. My nipples harden.
I want to be fucked and taken full advantage of by this beautiful creature standing before me.
My inner goddess is doing cartwheels.
I blush a bright crimson red and shyly greet him back.
Feeling shy and nervous but so sexy and very playful.
I have no idea what is going to happen.
My mind is open and my imagination is free.
We’re inside the room (I can’t even remember the elevator ride).
I clock the playground of two neatly made attractive double beds and the spacious clean trendy apartment softly lit.
We stand staring and admiring each other with an intense lustful gaze.
His eyes are really sparkling and his cheeks a healthy flush of colour (probably from lots of sex)
We walk slowly towards each other and grasp hold of each other leaning into each other’s arms.
I was in his arms within 5 minutes of meeting him. What a slut!
My body is trembling completely open and ready.
The moment had arrived, the build up, the nerves, the doubts the fantasies, this was it ….
It was bitterly cold outside but now things are feeling pretty hot.
I feel his breath on my face and neck and the heat of his skin through his (extremely) soft cotton black shirt.
Intuition told me no longer to be scared. I was entirely safe in this stranger’s soft gentle embrace.
The palm of my hands and the tips of my long red slut nails press gently into his manly chest.
He places both of his hands around my waist smiling looking me and up and down commenting on what a perfect size and height I am for him and I look even more beautiful in person than in my profile pic.
I had never wanted to kiss someone so much in my life!
I part my mouth and he starts to sweep and barely touch his perfectly soft kissable lips against mine.
Every pore and nerve ending in my body is sensitive to his teasing delicate touch and he smells heavenly.
He kisses me sweetly, gently caressing my tongue with his.
The sweetest of moments. I had never felt such a connection from a few seconds of intimacy. I wanted to repeat this act forever.
I wanted to be naked.
My breathing deepens and I’m filled with lust and passion.
The right palm of his hand gently grabs at one of my bum cheeks pulling it apart.
‘Oh god’ I let out a small whimper and shudder yearning for him to grab me and kiss me harder.
I felt like I was 18 again, naive, sweet and girlish and not the dirty little whore I thought I would.
Although, I have just arrived and the night is young….
I desperately want him inside me to take me here and now and set our animal instincts free and he has barely touched or spoke to me!
He pulls away gently smiling.
I steadily compose myself overcome and overwhelmed by his impressive confident and extremely arousing presence.
I watch him pop the cork on the chilled champagne which spills and splashes out into two glasses; he shoves a couple of big fat juicy strawberries into the glasses and quarters the remaining strawberries with a sharp knife.
He slips the glass of champagne into my hand and toasts me and the wet soft sparkling bubbles feel playful and tickly inside my mouth. He slides a cold wet strawberry into my wet and wanting mouth and gently moves a strand of my long soft curled blonde hair while he kisses me tenderly down the side of my neck.
Who is this man? How did he find his way into my life? Is this really happening?
The strong sweet taste and aroma of strawberries fill the air which smell amazing.
I’m throbbing, hurting, aching, wanting, needing and craving for him.
The whole scenario feels pleasurable and delightful and I can’t wait for the evening to unfold.
Staring at me and my mouth he takes a deep breath and grabs the nape of my neck pushing my lips onto his and kisses me hard and deep .
I feel his hard erect cock pressing against my pussy.
Feeling breathless I’m keen to savour every second of this sexy moment.
Feeling extremely euphoric I am completely dominated by such an intense exquisite moment.
I wonder if I can orgasm without being penetrated?
All sorts of scenarios flash before my eyes good and bad of what will happen next…..
My soft skin around my mouth tingles from the roughness of his facial hair and I wonder how my freshly waxed fat pussy is going to feel once he is finished with it.
This handsome sexy stranger has me completely enthralled and in a trance and I am enjoying him immensely.
My fears, anxieties, principals and morals are completely forgotten and I am wholeheartedly transfixed and ready to submit to this stranger.
To be his slut for the night.
Completely for his pleasure and whatever he wishes to do with me.
I will be his for one night only.
FrolicMe 