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Meeting For Lunch at Sam’s Cafe

Category: Anal Sex
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Our small kitchen was a bustle of activity, my own rushed, anxious movements contrasting with Hanna’s relaxed calm. She sat down at the small breakfast bar in her fluffy white robe and began to delicately segment her pink grapefruit, a cup of tea gently steaming beside her. As usual however I was running late, standing with a bowl of cornflakes in one hand and a spoon in the other, forcing mouthful after mouthful hurriedly down, all the while trying to avoid milky splashes on my shirt.

“Do you want to meet for lunch today?” she asked, the grapefruit segment perched on her small spoon, awaiting its fate.

“Yeah sure, usual place?” I mumbled through milk and cereal.

“Usual place sounds good.”

The deal, as ever, was sealed with a kiss, a peck that lingered, her grapefruit tang on my lips and then I left her sitting there as I drained my cup of tea with one big, throat scorching gulp and rushed out the door.

I returned to her smiling face a couple of minutes later to collect my car keys, leaving another kiss behind, and hopefully, this time, nothing else.

Hanna doesn’t work mornings, so before she heads into the office we often meet up for a quick lunch at Sam’s, a tiny little café that does great coffee and sandwiches for me, Hanna usually sticks to coffee and cakes. The latter, she tells me, are always “amazing”.

Work that morning was, frankly, shit, it was nearly the end of the month and deadlines needed to be met. I gratefully escaped for lunch a few minutes early, knowing I’d be working late tonight anyway, and trying to elude the huge dark clouds I had seen building up not so far away through my grimy office window. I had no such luck however, and fat droplets of rain had begun staining my jacket even as I left the building.

The town centre was almost deserted, what people there were could be found huddled away inside shops, trying to escape the rain. I pulled my collar up against the wind and ran, dodging puddles and secretly enjoying it, wishing I had a big pair of Wellington boots like I had as a kid.

Approaching the café I tried to look through the large window, attempting to see if she’d already arrived. The window was steamed up however, the view obscured, I could see nothing beyond the display of fancy looking cakes on the sill.

A bell above the door rang brightly as I pushed inside the busy café, a lot of people had sought refuge here, some perhaps using the rain as an vague excuse to indulge in the delicious food on offer.

I scanned the room, and saw Hanna looking up, putting down her book, eyes smiling. If you want to picture what she looks like, imagine Velma from Scooby Doo, with the same sort of black glasses that match her hair, the same nerdish, quirky overtones, (she’s always reading obscure sci-fi, usually featuring blond sex sluts from the planet vlad) but now imagine her slimmer but definitely still curvy, with big, dark, fuck me eyes hiding behind those glasses and perfect, plump tits. That’s Hanna, she totally rocks my world.

I was thankful she got here first, we’d have never claimed a table otherwise, she’d even managed to get our usual place, a tiny round table sat in the corner, the most private and intimate table in the place, although in fact, it’s not much of either.

She got up as I approached, wearing a brown skirt that stopped just shy of her knees and a tight, chest hugging white jumper she knows I like, definitely not her usual smart office wear. We kissed, a quick peck, Hanna shying away, attempting to keep my wet jacket away from her.

“Raining is it?”

I flashed an evil look, saying, sarcastically, “Haha,” and then gave her a big hug, pulling her against my wet clothing.

She squealed, laughing.

“So you’re not going into work today then?” I asked as I pulled out my chair, causing the old couple on the table sited too close behind to grumble and moan into their tea and scones.

“No, I decided to take the afternoon off, thought I’d treat myself.”

“If I’d known I’d have done the same,” even as I said it, I knew that wasn’t true, there was no way I could have, still it would have nice to be asked.

“You really want to follow me around the shops and wait while I get my hair cut?”

She had a very, very good point there.

We ordered quickly, giving them to a plumpish young waitress I’d not seen before. Her accent and skin tone giving away her Spanish origins. She had great tits hidden beneath her black T-shirt, a fact not entirely relevant to this story, but I couldn’t help noticing.

As I tried to ignore the irrelevant breasts, or at least not let Hanna know I was perving, I noticed instead the collection of shopping bags Hanna had hidden beside her. Usually Hanna would show me her latest purchases straight away, a little child with new toys, but on this day she was strangely quiet on the subject.

By the time our coffees arrived I was bursting with curiosity.

“So, are you going to tell me what you’ve bought me then?”

“You?” she asked. “Nothing,” she grinned. “Me though? Lots, like I said, I’m treating myself.”

The waitress returned, interrupting the start of my interrogation with a cheese and bacon toasted pannini for me and a random, ornate cream cake for Hanna. As she walked away I couldn’t help but notice that not only did she have lovely breasts but also a marvelously lovely arse, clad in a pair of tight blue jeans.

Hanna cleared her throat, and when I deliberately carried on watching the waitress’s behind she reached over and slapped my wrist. “Pervert.”

I grinned, “You’re just upset ’cause Julio isn’t here.”

Julio, or Juan, or Manuel, we didn’t know his name, it could have been Brian for all we knew, he’s the usual waiter in here that Hanna flirts outrageously with. I always jokingly argued that he was the only reason Hanna kept coming back to this place. I may even have been closer to the truth than I’d like to know.

That got me off the hook, and kept Hanna quiet long enough at least for me to get the subject back around to her shopping, I asked her again what she’d bought, looking down under the table at her collection. Tucked down between two larger bags, almost hidden, was a bright pink, expensive looking bag. The sort of bag where you know you’re paying more for the label on the bag than the goods themselves. That bag made me nervous.

“Oh not much,” she replied to my question, clearly guilty.

I motioned to the largest bag with my foot.

“What’s in that one?”

“Just a couple of dresses, nothing too fancy.”

“That one?” again I motioned with my foot, to the second of the large bags.

“A jumper.”

“Just a jumper?” there was clearly more than just a jumper in the bag.

“And a pair of earrings.”


She looked at me, guilt personified. It could only mean one thing.

“Shoes,” she said sheepishly. “But they’re really nice ones, and they were in the sale!”

I didn’t have to say a word, her own guilt was plain on her face. I didn’t mind, not really, it’s just that Hanna’s immense shoe collection was her weak spot, a sure fire way to wind her up. Seriously, does any woman really need over forty pairs?

“How many is that now?” I mumbled, my mouth full of delicious pannini.

“Just a few.”

I left it at that, storing up ammunition for later, and beside, my pannini was damn good, it needed full concentration. For a while we ate in comfortable silence, just Hanna’s ecstatic cream cake moans breaking in, eventually though, I just had to satisfy my curiosity.

“What’s in that one?” I asked, nudging it with my foot.

“Hmmm?” she was clearly faking ignorance.

“What’s in that bag?

“Which bag?”

“The pink bag.”

“Nothing,” came her reply, the tone of voice giving away her guilt, the flush on her cheeks was just extra confirmation.

“Nothing? I asked, eyebrows raised, sensing a secret, clearly having hit the jackpot. “Are you sure?”

She took a sip of her frothy coffee, her eyes peering over the oversized cup, resolutely, and obviously avoiding my gaze, playing the game.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she took another sip, her guilty eyes sparking with mischief. “Yet.”

I leaned forward, eager to be in on the conspiracy.

“What do you mean, yet? What is it?”

She reached down and lifted the shocking pink bag from its hiding place, it was big enough to hold about two shoe boxes, I should know, and she made sure she showed me the logo on the side, before putting it down on the floor, at other side of the small table, and well out of my reach.

I couldn’t help but smile, a shiver of want forming in my chest.

The small logo on the side would’ve been discrete, even classy, if not for the vibrant pink surrounding it, it read ‘Perdita’. It was the name of a newly opened sex shop specifically designed around women, I’d never been in, my type weren’t welcome, not without a girlfriend in tow anyway. We’d talked about going in together.

“You filthy girl.”

She grinned, her foot finding my calf, nudging, rubbing, and then took yet another sip of coffee, hiding behind the cup, her cheeks flushing crimson. When she put it back down in front of her she looked me square in the eye, her foot still gently caressing my leg.

“You cooking dinner tonight then?”

I shook my head in mock disgust.

“Bribery, I can’t believe it’s come down to bribery, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Cool as a cucumber, holding all the cards, she replied. “I’ve got the receipt, I can take it all back.”

“Take what back?”

She leaned forward across the table, her mouth finding my ear, planting a delicate kiss before whispering silken words.

“Later baby, later.”


The rich smell of frying onions filled the air as I loosened my tie with one hand, and stirred the contents of the deep pan with the other. All my ingredients were already chopped up and waiting in separate bowls on the side, I like to be organized when I cook, especially as often we both have to work late.

We usually share the cooking duties, we both enjoy it, and both hate clearing the mountain of washing up afterwards. I had a feeling I’d be doing the washing up as well tonight, Hanna would find a way of making sure I did it. Today though, I was more than sure it’d be worth it, Hanna clearly had an ace up her sleeve that she was itching to play. I couldn’t help but speculate on the contents of the pink bag as I cooked, and what exactly she had in mind for later, my simmering arousal leaving me restless and twitchy.

She’d been back home, but had left the house again, probably to her best friend Becca’s house, before I got home from work, the bags of shopping, including a couple of extras, were strewn on the bed, all except the one I most wanted to delve inside, that had been hidden, but I didn’t try searching, not wishing to spoil her game.

The stroganoff was simmering away, and I was relaxing on the sofa with a bottle of beer long before Hanna came creeping through the door. She glanced sheepishly at me, her pretty face framed by a new haircut.

She’d had her jet black hair cut a few inches shorter, into a messy, just out of bed look, I’m sure there’s a name for it, but I’m a bloke, I don’t know haircuts. She’d also had crimson highlights added, long streaks of it running through the black. Even in the hurried glance I’d seen of it, I could see she looked gorgeous. Her hair was similar in length now to how she had it when we first met, except for the highlights, they were brand new.


“Hi,” she replied, rushing to the door that leads to our stairs.

“I like your hair.” I called after her, she paused in the doorway and turned for a second, flashing me a heart melting smile.

“Thanks,” and then she was gone, a moment later I heard her call down.

“I’ll be back down in a sec, can you get me one of those beers please.”

I finished my bottle in one long swig, and moved to the kitchen, getting two fresh bottles from the fridge, setting them down on the side while I checked the dinner and then found the bottle opener.

I was just adding the rice to boiling water as she came into the kitchen, a good twenty minutes after she’d arrived home. I imagined she’d been stood in front of the mirror, trying everything on again, although she was still wearing the same clothes. I looked down to see what shoes she wore, but she was barefoot.

“Evening,” I said, deliberately mocking as I handed her the now warm beer, my own long ago finished. “What have you been doing up there?”

“What do you think?” she said, taking a swig.

“I think you’ve been parading in your new shoes.”

“Well, for once you’re wrong.”

I turned, busying myself with stirring the rice, and she sidled up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, her chin on my shoulder.

“But,” whispered softly in my ear, “I have been parading in something,” and then she added. “Hmmm, that smells nice.”

“What, me or the food?”

“The food of course.”

“I thought so.”

I put down the spoon I was holding and turned in her loosened embrace to face her, planting a long overdue welcome home kiss on her lips. She returned it with a sudden passion that took me by surprise, her tongue snaking into my mouth, gripping my waist with tight fingers and pulling our lower bodies together.

“Hmmm,” she murmured before opening her mouth to me again, tongue tips playing. Not surprisingly I was suddenly very horny indeed, my cock twitching into eager life, pressing against her. Sordid images of bending her over the worktop and lifting her brown skirt flowed to mind, and I grew ever harder, wondering what panties she wore, wondering if they were what she’d been “parading in”. I lifted a hand to her jumper, brushing the perky swellings of her breasts with the back of my hand, toying with the thought of slipping a hand beneath the tight, ribbed wool.

She pulled away, just inches, her hand sliding into the space created, finding the long swelling there, squeezing me hard. The naughty smile on her face wavered as she looked beyond me to the fragrantly simmering dinner.

“Is that nearly ready?”

“Five minutes,” I nodded.

“Shame,” she whispered leaning in for another kiss, slow and deep, and then: “If it were ten we could have done something.”

“I can do five.” I replied, a little too eager.

“I can’t,” and with that, and a cheeky smile, she was off, swinging her mouth-wateringly flared hips as she walked from the kitchen, knowing I was watching, and leaving me to boil in more ways than one.

I’d set the dinner table earlier, and when I carried our plates from the kitchen I saw her sitting at her place, waiting to be served, like some kind of royalty.

She smiled at me as I placed her plate down in front of her.

“That looks good, I’m starving.”

I sat down besides her, and she poured some red wine for us both.

As she placed my glass before me she leaned over, just slightly, we were sitting close, and moved in for another kiss, a thank you peck on the cheek.

“Thanks hun,” she pulled away, lifting a hand to flick a thick, newly red strand of hair behind her ear self consciously. She looked at me, a question clearly on her lips.

“Thom… do you really like my hair?”

I looked at Hanna, pretending to study her, pretending it was a difficult decision.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” she sounded heartbroken already.

“You look gorgeous.”

Her face cracked into a smile, and again she tucked that errant strand behind her ear, exposing her slender neck.

“You really like it?”

“Hmmm,” I replied. “I do.”

I reached for her, my fingers trailing lightly over the exposed skin of her neck.

She purred, tilting her head to ease my access further, an open invitation. I leaned over, bringing my lips to where my fingers had just played, brushing lightly against the velvet skin, she shivered, and I wetted her skin with the tip of my tongue.

“What about the red?” she murmured.

I pulled back with some reluctance, running fingers through her hair where the highlights splashed in contrast to the ebony.

“I fucking love the red bits.”

Her eyes glittered and I could do nothing but kiss her then, really kiss her, the mewls of pleasure that came from her throat egging me on, my stiffening cock urging me to forget my hunger pangs.

She pushed me back, creating a moment of highly charged eye contact that could so easily have tipped over into charged contact of another sort, we teetered on the brink. I leaned forward, decision made. Fuck dinner, it could wait I wanted her now, on the table.

She gave a little chuckle, leaning away and picking up her fork before tucking in to her food with gusto. Knowing I was being toyed with, I forced myself to take a small sip of my wine, calming myself before also starting. The stroganoff was okay, not one of my best, it needed something extra, I’m not enough of a cook to know what though.

I watched her as she ate, curious, mildly amused and horny as fucking hell, there was definitely something different about her that went beyond a new hairstyle.

She caught me looking at her, and something flashed in her eye, something impish.

“What?” she asked, before shoving another large mouthful down, clearly in a hurry to finish.

“Nothing,” I lied. “I was just wondering what was in that pink bag” I took another sip of water, watching her response.

“Oh nothing much,” she replied, another mouthful racing down.

“Really?” I asked again, failing to keep the sarcasm to a bare minimum.

“Yeah, nothing much,” she mumbled through a mouth of food, grinning at me, “Not even any more shoes.” She swallowed and then leaned over to give me another kiss, “No more questions,” she whispered against my mouth.

My hand strayed to her bare knee as we kissed, and I heard the metallic clink of her fork as she blindly left it on her plate, her own hand joining mine, resting upon it, fingers between fingers. This was silly, we were acting like horny teenagers.

“So?” I asked, pulling away from the kiss, holding her gaze with raised eyebrows, gently squeezing her knee. “If there was nothing in that bag, why are you so horny tonight?”

She held my gaze, she always has been good at staring me out, and her wide eyes sparkled with secrets behind her thick rimmed glasses.

“You complaining?” then another kiss, a deep one, her tongue eager, pushing past mine, then breathlessly adding. “Maybe I got some naughty underwear.”

She pulled my hand a little way up beneath her skirt, just until it disappeared beneath brown cotton, her legs parting. Her tongue flicked out, leaving my lips wet.

“Maybe?” I asked.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she replied, in her best ‘I’ve got a secret’ voice.

I moved my mouth to her ear.

“Are you wearing it now?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

That just wasn’t a good enough answer, I moved to push my hand higher, if I couldn’t see then I wanted to feel, but her guiding hand wouldn’t allow it and her legs closed, trapping my hand, a giggle escaping her lips. I fucking ached to see her cunt, clothed in whatever, to touch it, to fuck it. I kissed her ear, her cheek, then, as she turned to me, her mouth, hard, angry with desire.

Her grip on my hand became white knuckled as we kissed, fighting her desire as well as mine, but slowly our hands began to move, her iron will softening. She mewled, a soft sound of resignation and need as her legs parted, her bare knee touching my thigh, rubbing against it.

Hanna let go of my hand, letting me find my own way, her fingers resting lightly on my forearm as we pulled back from the kiss, seeking that eye contact as my hand sought her hidden secrets.

“Thom…” her voice was frail, needy.

My fingers tickled her upper thigh, almost there, gliding ever nearer, she gripped my forearm as I reached the boundary and gasped, desire fluttering in my chest, finding her soft black pubic hair, naked, and dewy with fresh flowing sex.

I failed to keep the tremor of desire from my voice.

“Naughty girl.”

“I know,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip, closing her eyes as my middle finger explored her ripe flesh. It found her entrance and slipped, welcome like an old friend, within her drenched pussy. “I know I am,” she softly repeated.

“How naughty are you?”

“Very,” Hanna’s grip on my arm increased as my finger disappeared inside her.

“I want you now” I hissed, kissing her urgently, my finger moving ever deeper inside her warm, soft walls, finding the piston rhythm of the moment.

She shook her head against my kiss, breaking away, pulling, forcing my hand away to her thigh.

“Not now.”

Her words hit me like a full on slap to the face, I was dumbstruck, stupidly horny, I couldn’t believe she wanted to stop.

“You’re kidding right?”

She stared me down with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look on her face.

“Finish dinner,” it was an order, breathless but authoritative.

“And then?” I asked, keeping my hand there, my fingers so close to her sex, so damp with her need.

Her dark eyes shone with mischief as she picked up her fork and said what she’d clearly been itching to ever since she’d got home.

“And then I’ve got a special surprise for you.”

She kissed me, the softest, warmest kiss. Her eyes told me the wait would be worthwhile and so I pulled my hand up from under the table reluctantly, trailing damp fingers that lingered on her thigh as long as they could,

“What…?” I started, but she silenced my question with a finger on my lips.

“Don’t talk, just eat,” and with that she smoothed out her skirt and took a small sip of wine, picking up her fork.

“Eat quickly,” she purred, flashing a smile of sheer wicked need.

We ate in silence, the food now strangely tasteless, our only communication occasional teasing sparks of eye contact. My thoughts raced with thoughts of her naked cunt, so wet, so close, and the question that had hung unanswered on my lips. I twigged though, what it was that seemed different about her. She was playing a game and enjoying the power trip, little did I know at the time however, just how good an ace she held.

She finished first, taking her plate out to the kitchen and returning quickly, leaning across the table, pecking me on the lips before taking a sip of wine and sitting down. She watched me finish my plate in silence, the atmosphere thick with sex, and then took it from me, removing it to the kitchen.

She returned, standing in the threshold of the dining room, leaning against the door frame.

“Maybe we should leave the washing up till later.”

“Maybe,” I replied, rising from my chair.

“Come,” she whispered, holding out her hand to me.

We took the narrow stairs in silence, Hanna leading me, her small hand in mine, I looked down as we walked, taking in her bare feet, slender calves, her legs disappearing beneath her skirt. Her footfalls, soft on the bare wooden floor, were drowned out by the beating of my heart, the blood rushing in my ears.

I wanted to take her there and then, on the stairs, lift her skirt and spank her full and naughty behind, take her from behind, fill her, fuck her, hear her cries echoing away, upstairs and downstairs.

But she had her plan, and her hand kept guiding me, pulling me upwards towards her secret, and nothing was worth interrupting that for.

It felt like Christmas day, heading downstairs to see what treats were hidden beneath the tree, except we were heading the opposite way, and my dad wouldn’t be there in a red suit. I hoped, oh God I hoped!

She led me through the open door of the bedroom, our shrine to Ikea, and motioned for me to walk past her. I turned, and watched Hanna close the door behind us. She slid the small bolt across, locking us in. We live alone, so it was a purely symbolic gesture, but somehow a powerful one, causing something to clench in my gut. The room was dark, lit only by the soft amber light from one small bedside lamp.

We stepped to each other and she tilted her head up, our mouths meeting, lips brushing, hers toying with mine, her tongue flicking, bridging any tiny gap. She murmured into my mouth.

“We’d better get undressed.”

I nodded, reaching for her waist, the bottom of her ribbed white jumper, as a hand came up to my chest, her palm flat, gently pushing me away. She took a step backwards, ever so slightly shaking her head. She took off her glasses, becoming her weaker alter ego, not quite Hanna, and handed them to me. Her hands fell to where mine had clutched just seconds ago, taking hold of her jumper, and holding my gaze, her big eyes full of life as she started to lift.

Her little pot belly exposed, the belly that she hates but I love, her navel, always such a magnet for my tongue, this time though I was forced to watch as the jumper rose beyond it, faint shadows of ribs just visible in the gloom.

I sighed, releasing the tension built up inside as her bare breasts fell softly into view, her fat, perfect handfuls topped with thick pink nipples that love it rough, that always stiffen when bitten and pulled, thriving on sweet torture.

The jumper fell to the floor and she took back her oval glasses, becoming Hanna again as she put them back on. For a long moment she stood before me, top half wonderfully bare except for the thin silver chain that hangs around her neck, a small cross poised above the valley of her breasts.

Her chest rose and fell, deep breathing as if gathering strength. She stepped in closer, and without word began to unbutton my shirt, delicate fingers working calmly, without haste. I stood still, letting her work, knowing it was what she wanted. As I bowed my head, I took in the mild almond scent of her hair.

Her palms moved across the sparse hair of my chest, brushing my nipples and up to my shoulders, pushing the shirt along with them till it began to slip down my arms. She tugged it from them, discarding it atop her jumper.

We stood in silence, just breathing, fingertips millimeters apart, taking each other in. Adjusting to this new pace, to being the one who followed the lead, I waited, aching with anticipation, for Hanna to make the next move.

Her hands crept forward, her fingers slipping between my own, her eyes never leaving mine as she lifted my hands up, guiding them to her soft breasts and placing them so that my palms covered her nipples.

We kissed deeply as my fingers traced lines over the sensitive flesh, her hands covering mine, following their movements, then, gradually guiding with gentle insistence, circling in onto the puffy buds of her nipples, my thumbs and forefingers joining forces to roll, pull and pinch.

Her breath forced past my lips and she nodded, mewling, as I increased the pressure on those little cylinders of pink flesh, squeezing and rolling harder, and harder still until she gasped, a hand sliding to the back of my head, pulling me onto the growing heat of her kiss.

For a second or so, egged on by her rising passion, I pinched her nipples without restraint, feeling her body tensing as her cry filled my mouth, both hands in my hair, gripping me with painful force.

We released each other, stepping back an inch or so. She closed her eyes for a second, sighing visibly and audibly as her hands came up to her nipples, fingertips tentatively exploring their afterglow of pain.

I moved my hands to hold her waist, to caress, to kiss, her eyes snapped open.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, pushing my hands away. There was hardness behind the whisper, and an inner steel that made my hungry cock twitch within my trousers.

Her hands rose again to my chest, sliding slowly down through chest hair to my belly, and lower still to my belt. It clinked as she undid it, her mouth creeping into a half smile as she paused there, holding eye contact and her breath.

With two quick, sharp tugs she yanked my belt free from its loops. Her sudden movements caught me unawares, making me gasp. She dropped the thick leather to the floor, her hands immediately on my fly, and immediately returning to the slow pace of before, gently teasing it open, the zip sliding down, painfully slow, gradually exposing the front of my grey boxer shorts.

Gently, slowly, she tugged on my trousers, encouraging them down my legs, Hanna easing down to a squat, her face level with the bulge in my shorts, with the large, dark wet patch growing where my excitement soaked into cotton.

She tapped a calf, looking up at me.

“Step out.”

I did as I was told, one, two, stepping from my bunched trousers. I felt almost like a little child being undressed by his mother, a thought that wasn’t helped when she grabbed a hold of my socks, and tugged them free one at a time, my arm stretching to the wall to balance, Hanna grinning up at me as she threw them away. Her grin faded, as did all my thoughts of mothers as her eyes swung back down to my shorts. She leaned forward, her head tilting to the side.

“Ohhh fuck yeah.” I hissed, as Hanna’s mouth closed around my cotton enclosed shaft, biting, her teeth little points of sharp pleasure. I dropped a hand to the back of her head, resting it there in gentle encouragement, fingers slipping between dark locks.

Her mouth opened slightly, moved lower, and bit down again, much harder. I moaned, pulling her mouth against my shorts. I love the intense touch of teeth on my shaft. My shorts darkened further as her saliva mixed with fresh dribbles of pre-come.

Her hands slid up the outside of my thighs as she continued to nibble and bite down on me, they reached my shorts, fingers finding the waistband.

She pulled her head back and eased my damp shorts down over my cock, it fell free, tapping her nose, leaving a slippery shine. She moved her head from side to side, up and down, my cock twitching and bouncing over her face, soft noises of appreciation coming from her throat, giggles of pleasure. With my shorts down around my ankles she pulled back, opening her mouth wide, before moving forward again, using her lips on the sensitive, swollen plum at the head of my cock, her tongue flicking briefly against taut wet flesh.

I waited in delicious anticipation for the inevitable, the warm, wet embrace of her mouth, but it never came.

“Turn around,” her voice was authoritative, tainted with lust. When I hesitated she did it for me, taking hold of my hips and spinning me around, my arse now facing her, my cock briefly swinging metronomic from side to side before coming to rest facing the bed.

She reached for my belt, I heard it clinking as she did something with it behind my back, felt her grab a wrist, yanking it behind me, then the other, the black leather swiftly wrapped around them both, binding them together. My pulse quickened, fluttering in my chest, this was getting interesting.

“What are you doing?” I asked, aroused, and amused by this new development.

She stood up behind me, I felt her hands sliding firmly up my arms and back to my shoulder blades, then she spun me again to face her, my cock yearning for her, reaching out to touch, or be touched.

Hanna looked at me, taking in my stark, vulnerable nakedness, her gaze lingering on my scarlet, angry cock, a faint, twisted smile on her face, she was loving this, I was her toy, loving it too.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

She stepped in to kiss me before I could answer, her lips soft, and soon wet with our saliva. I moaned lightly as her small fingers delicately reached between us and found my dick, ten feather light caresses along my entire length, up and down to my balls, sliding in pre-come, spreading it further with the lightest touch. As she played with me, teasing me, I slowly moved my hips back and forth, trying to fuck her gossamer touch, my moans becoming louder as I longed to lift her skirt and play between her legs, but I was utterly powerless.

Her excitement was audible in the rushing of her hot breath into my mouth, I staggered as she leaned into me, the back of my legs bumping against the bed. Still she pressed into me, her full tits against my chest, my dick leaving a damp trail on her brown skirt, and I fell backwards onto the bed.

She giggled, a malevolent sound, a naughty child, I sat on the edge of the bed, dick rising rock hard from my lap, helpless to do anything but watch as she stood before me, reveling in her power over me, and in the knowledge of her secret.

A hand moved to the waistline of her skirt, the other moved higher, to her perky tits, and played there, rubbing herself, squeezing hard, leaving red marks growing on her pale skin and soft moans hanging in the air.

I watched open mouthed as she continued to toy with her tits, the other hand dropping lower, pressing her skirt up in between her legs, pressing it into her sex and rubbing slowly back and forth, all the while her eyes never leaving mine, and as for me, how could I possibly look elsewhere? She smiled at me, and the smile said everything.

“I fucking love you,” I murmured, meaning it utterly. I love her, she’s my world, and I love watching her touch herself. Once she tied me up for an hour, an exquisite hour of sweet torture as she did disgustingly exciting things to herself with hands and fingers and a brand new vibrator…

The hand that moved slowly between her legs came back up to her waist, and fiddled with the clasp, releasing it. With both hands she began to lower the skirt over her wide hips, pausing as the top of her jet black pubes came into view, trimmed neat and short with my clippers, but still there, a woman’s pussy not a girl’s.

She stepped a little closer, I could have touched her if not for my bindings, and I ached for it. When she spoke her words flowed slowly, like warm maple syrup.

“Do you want to see my cunt?”

I nodded slowly.

“Do you want to touch her?”

Again I nodded, salivating at the thought. She stepped closer still, between my knees, her tits within range of my mouth, if I just leaned forward.

“I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon,” her voice was husky and quiet, trembling with want. “I’m very wet.”

“I know,” I couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s right,” she licked her lips. “You do don’t you,” her smile radiated filthy thoughts.

She wiggled her skirt over her wide hips, dropping it down her legs and stepping free. Reveling in her nakedness she widened her stance, knowing where my gaze would fall. Her hand followed my hungry eyes, and angled down over her belly.

As I watched, her fingers slid down through her thin thatch, slowly curling back between her parted thighs, three fingers covering her sex.

Open mouthed, and with her eyes almost closed, she released a long breathy moan as her flat fingers moved back and forth over her vibrant, puffy lips. Closing her eyes fully, she parted, then entered herself, a finger disappearing into her heat as she moaned again, pelvis rocking on her hand, her thighs parting ever wider.

Unable to touch the vision before me, unable to take part, I watched, rocking slightly on the bed. Words, rather than actions, spilled from me instead, raw and uncontrolled, mirroring my rising lusts.

“I want to fuck you,” I hissed. “I want to fuck your cunt so hard.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured, her eyes opening, a smile twitching across her face.

She reached for me then, pulling her finger from inside herself, taking my head in both hands, I could smell her excitement, a rich tang of sex on her fingers, my cheek wet and slick with it. She pulled my mouth up to hers and kissed me for a long time, hungrily, her tongue forcing its way deep inside my mouth. My own needs matched hers, our mouths venting, and intensifying that lust, lips crushing wet, biting, risking nips and bruises.

As we kissed she returned her fingers to where they’d just played, from the corner of my eye I could see it moving down there, circular motions, her breath coming in time, rushing into my open mouth in short, angry pants.

She stopped momentarily and roughly pushed my head down to her chest, purring as I opened my hungry mouth to a breast, hanging ripe and plump, begging to be bitten into.

Her fingers found my hair, cradling me there, murmuring, and then gasping as I took a soft pink nipple in my teeth, nibbling, then biting, again taking her a little way beyond simple pleasure. The small bud stiffened in my mouth, held with teeth, then flicked hard with tongue. She moved my head to her other tit, in complete control of her pleasure, and pain.

The hand she held firm between her thighs had stilled for a moment, but it moved again, I heard the slick sounds as she fingered herself deeply, forcefully. More than one finger pushed within and her arm, her shoulder, her whole body shook with the effort of fucking herself. I moved to the very edge of the bed, wanting to be near her, joined with, and in her.

“A little harder honey,” she moaned, a tremor flavouring her voice. “Bite me.”

My teeth grazed the pure white flesh, dragging across the surface, down to the bumpy pink areola, down to the nipple, taking it, and biting it, slowly increasing the pressure, her fingers hard in my hair, her breathing loud.

I took another bite at it, getting a bigger mouthful, more pale flesh soft between my teeth, the firm nipple lashed by my stiff tongue, and I bit her, just like she asked, a little harder.

Her animal cry filled the room, fist clenching painfully in my hair, pulling me into her breast. The other hand a frenzy between her thighs as I tortured her with my teeth, giving her what she wanted, and maybe a little more, for a brief moment the tables turned, I held the control and Hanna was flotsam lost on the waves.

I released her, and the control, seeing the fire in her eyes before she pulled me hard to her other tit. Again she cried out as my teeth played upon her delicate flesh, a long shuddering moan in my ear that made me ache with lust, and drove me onwards, using my mouth to release all that need trapped inside, unleashing it on her pale breast.

Seconds later she wrenched my head up and we kissed ferociously, passion rising, her hand reaching down, taking my weeping cock in her fist, wanking me hard, yanking painfully on my foreskin, and making me gasp into her open mouth, as she moaned in return, while she forced pleasure from her own body with fast moving fingers.

“I’m gon, gonna…” Hanna’s mouth was hard on mine as she came, the final breath bursting from her, filling my lungs as her body shook with the release, her cries fading to a whimper as she staggered back, sinking to her knees, her head low, sweat shining on her brow. She sat there, deep breathing for a little while, a stilled hand clenched between her thighs as she sat mute and lost on the floor.

When she looked up her eyes were half lidded, dreamy, brightening as she looked me in the eye.

“Fuck,” she sounded incredulous.

“Good?” I asked, with a wry smile.

She didn’t reply, looking down at herself instead, at her shiny wet breasts, and the crescent moon shapes blooming upon her pale flesh.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” her fingertip traced the line of those red marks, circling her nipples, gliding on the thin coat of my saliva.

“Look what you’ve done,” she repeated quietly, almost more to herself than to me, as she caressed her breasts with slow care, softly squeezing the abused flesh.

As her head swung up back towards me, I saw a look on her face that both chilled and thrilled me in equal measure.

She came for me, kneeling between my thighs, pulling my head down to her so we could kiss again, softly at first, until she spoke against my lips.

“You have no idea how naughty I’m gonna be tonight,” she whispered, her voice cracking with need.

Then, before I could reply, her mouth was on me again, tongue twisting deep inside. Her hands briefly finding my slippery cock, one light stroke, a few more, bringing me back up to full, straining glory. Job done they moved again, came up to my chest and pushed me backwards till I fell, lying as flat as I could with my hands tied behind my back.

As I fell, her hands slid down my torso, coming to rest back teasingly near my cock. Those hands moved, travelling up and down the length of my hairy thighs, pushing them wider while her eyes held mine, shining with intent.

Eventually those hands zeroed in on the thing at the apex of my thighs, the thing that stood proud, alive and rampant. She took it in her hands, a firm grip, pulling back my foreskin slowly, revealing the shiny wet head of my dick, a fresh pearl of pre-come budding at the tip as she squeezed. She lowered her head, a glint in her eye and with the very tip of her tongue, took the pearl into her mouth.

My breath rushed hard through my flared nostrils as she enveloped me in the wet heat of her mouth, her saliva mixing with pre-come, her tongue wrapping itself around the sensitive skin, taut with blood, a hand joining in, spreading slick fluids down to my clenched balls, toying with them, and me.

She spat on my dick, and spread it with her hand, wanking me quickly, forcefully, a hint of pain flavouring the pleasure. With the balls of my feet on the floor I pushed my arse up off the bed, straining upwards, seeking her mouth, her touch. She looked up at me, eyes alive with wicked schemes, holding my gaze as her hand slipped lower, to my balls again, and beyond, tickling my perineum with a damp fingertip.

“Hmmmh,” I moaned, wiggling and pulling myself with my feet to the very edge of the bed, easing and encouraging her access, waiting, hoping for the rare touch I craved.

I moaned again as it came, exultant as she explored my anus with the tickling light touch of her middle finger, sending sick shivers radiating throughout me, leaving me weak.

“You like this don’t you Thomas.” she murmured. “You dirty, dirty little boy.” her mouth closed around me again, sucking me briefly, but forcefully, her finger circling lightly, playing in the depression like a marble rolling in a bowl.

“Hmmnnn,” I replied, all I could say, half in response to her words, and half to the sensations she was giving me.

She knows I love this, but it’s such a rare treat, only when she’s in a truly filthy mood will she even contemplate going ‘down there’.

“You’d like it inside you, wouldn’t you.”

I nodded, causing her mouth to twitch into a lascivious smile.

“What do you say?”

“Please,” I urged. “Please.”

“You want my finger in your dirty arsehole?”

I nodded again, writhing as her finger became more insistent, and I pushed down against it, yearning desperately for the most intimate caress.

My cock twitched, Jesus I was close to the edge already, she was fucking with my head completely, taking me spiralling down into the depths of my desire, into the dark places I’m seldom allowed to visit.

“I know you want it in you, you told me once, you remember?” The place came to me even as she said it.

“In Cornwall.”

I nodded, of course I remembered. A couple of months ago we’d hired a small, one bedroom cottage deep in the countryside there. We hardly left its walls, spending most of the weekend in bed. We’ve had filthy weekends before, but this one was special. On the last night, as if trying to postpone the end of the weekend, we’d talked, and talked, opening up to each other, lying in the darkness, warm beneath the covers, till the sun began to bleed through the curtains.

I shivered, Hanna’s finger testing my tight ring of muscle, but I wasn’t entirely there, part of me was back in Cornwall, remembering the night we’d shared our darkest secrets.

The sight of her finger disappearing within her mouth bought me back hard into the moment. As it appeared again it was shiny with saliva, saliva that felt cold as she pressed it against my muscle, testing the seal, pushing against it.

“I bet I know what you’re thinking about,” she said, her smile toxic as she pressed harder, slowly, slowly breaking through the tight ring into the open space beyond. I mewled, lying helpless on the bed with my head tipped back, mouth open, eyes closed as her wet finger forced the breath from my lungs.

Almost immediately she removed her finger again, making me gasp as the violated muscle clenched tighter shut than before. Circling the depression, she teased for a second then pushed it back deep inside, making me yelp, curling the finger upwards to find that special, dirty secret spot and playing there, easing a need, an itch that doesn’t exist before the scratch, something electric taking hold of me as she did, my cock jerked, a flow of precome running down the shaft.

“Uhhh” I grunted, overcome by the feel of her finger stroking inside me, and by the sheer dirtiness of the act. She opened her mouth around my rock solid cock again, lapping at my sex secretions, sucking me, milking me with a squeezing hand, driving me near the edge, dangerously so, the thought of what she might have in store, and her finger inside me, making my head swim.

I shook my head, pushing away dangerous thoughts of coming in her mouth, my body wanted to, but I desperately didn’t, not yet, not yet, I clenched, my whole body tense, she looked up, sensing my struggle, her finger slowing inside me.

“Is it good?”

I nodded, it was so fucking good.

“You know what I’m going to do soon don’t you.”

Again I nodded, the merest twitch of my head, I knew, and yet I didn’t, but I hoped, and prayed.

“Tell me,” I whimpered, making her smile. “Please.”

Her finger withdrew, slipping slickly from my wet arsehole, the muscle closing up tight again, leaving the afterglow of her intimate caress still there inside me.

“I don’t think one finger is enough. Do you?”

“No,” I moaned, breathing hard. “Give me more.”

“What do you say?”

“Please…please.” I stammered, lost in her sweetest torture.

I watched her bring her hand up to her mouth, for a delirious second I thought she would take the dirty finger inside, instead she held up two fingers together, and spat, forcefully, coating them with a big wad of saliva.

Down again went her hand, and I braced myself, waiting for the wet touch.

“Ohhhhfuckyes,” I moaned, and writhed, as her fingers sought entrance, easing, pressing, pressing…


I opened up around her fingers, stretched tight, tighter as she slowly eased in, all the way.

“You like it?” she asked, as her fingers pulled back a little, before pressing ever deeper.

I couldn’t reply, instead pressing down against her fingers, spreading my legs ever wider, mewling, and begging for it.

I watched her smile as our eyes met, as her arm began to move back and forth, my breath coming in short gasps, my body shaking as she finger fucked my taboo hole.

“You dirty boy,” she hissed. “You dirty, dirty boy,” her words coming in time with her fingers, moving deep and rhythmically. Then they were gone, popping slickly from my arsehole making me gasp again.

Hanna got up off the floor and up onto the bed, her breasts wobbling hypnotically as she climbed up to kneel beside my head. I had a good view between her slightly parted thighs, to where her cunt lay ripe and glistening, but my attention was swiftly taken elsewhere.

She held those two dirty fingers up near her nose, and with her eyes on mine gave them a sniff.

“I can smell your arsehole,” she whispered, like a naughty child doing something it knows is wrong.

My cock twitched, not for the first or last time that night, and I watched transfixed as she bought her fingers to her mouth.

I lay unable to breathe, unable to do anything but watch open mouthed, as she extended her tongue and flicked at the dirty digits, I moaned, releasing my held breath as she took the fingers inside soft lips, her eyes never leaving mine. Something passed between us in that gaze.

Then we were kissing, her musty fingers swapping between our mouths, both fighting for them, taking them eagerly inside. Hanna spread the tainted saliva over my face, her face, even reaching again for my cock, leaving it wet. I knew it was sick, wrong, but I wanted it, the filthy act taking us further than ever before, and closer somehow.

“Dirty bitch, dirty bitch…” I hissed at her, again and again into her mouth, gasping as she squeezed my cock, her mouth absorbing the gasp.

She took my head in both hands, holding it tightly and holding my gaze with her large, once sweetly innocent eyes, now fierce and wanton. She was breathing hard when she spoke.

“I want you bent over on this bed, I want you on your knees, your arse in the air, and then…” she kissed me, her tongue working deep before moving her mouth to my ear, close enough for lips to brush as she spat out the next words “And then I’m going to fuck you baby.”

I whimpered, head spinning as she spoke again.

“I’m gonna fuck your tight little dirty arse.”

Weak with need, swimming lost in it, I let myself be moved, manhandled even, and before I knew it I found myself on my knees on the edge of the bed, face down in the sheets, head twisted to the side, unable to support myself with my hands still bound hard behind my back. My arse was high, vulnerable and open to whatever she wanted, which was exactly what I craved, what I had dreamt of for so long.

She stood behind me, out of view, her delicate hands stroking the back of my thighs, running up and down, lingering on my proudly taut behind.

“Shall I put it on now baby?” Her voice was soothing, almost motherly, yet not hiding her desire. Those words made something inside my chest move, twitch, clenching tight with need. A shiver of something like fear started at my balls and ran all the way up my spine. “Put it on” I knew what it had to be, yet I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t dare it to be true.

“Please.” I managed to blurt.

“Please what?” she asked, her finger lazily tracing along the damp valley of my arse.

“Please, please… put it on.”

“I thought so, you fucking pervert.”

I could hear the wicked smile in her voice, as she gave my bottom a sharp spank before her hands left me.

I watched her slowly walk around the side of the bed trailing, a hand on the covers as she went. I turned my head to follow as best I could, watching her curves move, my eyes lingering on her heavy breasts, full behind and the sweet flare of her hips.

She bent down, breasts swinging, picking up something until then hidden beneath the bed, the pink bag. She set it on the bed, and slowly pulled open the top, peering inside and smiling as she dipped her hand within.

She withdrew a couple of black boxes and placed them on the bed beside each other before putting the bag away again on the floor.

She lifted the lid on the largest box, placing it to one side. It was flat and square, the pastel pink tissue paper inside rustling as she withdrew her new garment, lifting it up in front of her chest. It was hard to breathe as I saw it for the first time, my cock twitching and dribbling freely onto the sheets as I saw the reality of my darkest fantasy. The one I’d only ever told her about, no one else, I wouldn’t dare.

It was made from leather, rubber, and metal, definitely expensive looking. She held it up to me and buckles clinked. There was a molded rubber flange at the centre of a web of leather. It was wide at the top, narrowing greatly towards the bottom. At its widest point the front had what looked like a silvery screw thread, the other side populated with a fat, 3 inch rubber stub, and just below that was a smaller stub, the thickness of a grape and maybe an inch long, I didn’t have to guess where they would go.

“I tried it on in the shop,” Hanna’s voice was thick with want as she lifted a leg through a strap, then the other, pulling it slowly up her legs, wiggling it up her womanly, smooth white thighs. “It fits soo fucking well,” she purred.

She hitched it up, a thin central strap swinging between her legs as she positioned the flange over her pink flushed cunt, using both hands, one reaching down to part herself, the other pushing, easing the thick main stub inside. She moaned as it slipped within, and pushed it tight up against her sex before reaching further down between her legs.

Her eyes closed, a look of determination and pleasure colouring her face as she pressed the smaller nub against the tight depression of her anus, a sigh of pure lust released from her lips as it broke the seal, popping inside its new home.

She was breathing heavily as she reopened her eyes and began to fasten all the clips and buckles, of which there were many, finishing with the strap that hung down between her legs, pulling it up behind herself, turning around then bending over to let me watch as she attached it at the back. The strap bisecting the stunningly full and smooth twin globes of her behind. Then, buckle by buckle, she tightened it, pulling everything up hard against her, leather and metal surely leaving impressions in her pale skin.

It looked like some kind of chastity belt, a black rubber and shiny metal barrier between me and her cunt. When she removed the missing piece from the other box however, all chaste thoughts went, replaced by rapidly spiraling levels of lust.

I heard myself moan as I saw it, a long, thick black shaft. She turned from me as she screwed it into the base plate. Leaving me to imagine and dream.

She turned back to face me again, her big, black, and slightly curved cock swinging solidly into view. Her eyes held me as she stroked her new penis, an aura of power, lust and control oozed from her, and the soaking puddle of precome grew wider beneath my dribbling cock.

She walked back, walked behind me. I tried to follow her all the way around but couldn’t.

I felt her hands on my buttocks again, heard the blood rushing in my ears, real fear now blossoming, it was too big, surely, far too big.

I sensed her settling on her haunches, her face level with my anus. Her hands pulled at my buttocks, spreading them, exposing the damp puckered ring to her gaze, leaving it vulnerable, and open.

Her breath tickled me there, her cheeks touching mine, her nose nuzzling into the cleft. Oh please yes I thought, then…

“Ohhhmm,” I moaned, electric sensations spreading from my anus as the tip of her tongue found it, circling, teasing, pressing inwards.

“Yes, do it… please,” I pleaded, as her invasive tongue pressed harder, her hands gripping me by my thighs as she pushed her mouth hard against me, breaking my seal with her tongue, stabbing it in, and again, and again.”

“You dirty fucking bitch,” I spat, pushing back against her mouth as she pulled me ever harder, her tongue fucking me hungrily. “Dirty bitch.”

Then, suddenly, her tongue was gone, and I knew she’d stood up behind me. I heard, rather than saw a bedside drawer being opened, and knew immediately which one it was. Moments later I gasped as the cool lube was smeared between my cheeks, then again as her slippery fingers pushing inside me again, spreading their slick load. She chucked the bottle on the bed, it bounced and rolled over the edge, landing with a thud.

Her hands returned to my buttocks, kneading and squeezing, spreading what lube remained on her fingers across the smooth muscle. My heart POUNDED in my chest, oh fuck, this was it, did I really want this? Fuck yes! This was what I’d dreamed of, being fucked by a beautiful woman, but as much as I craved it, could I really cope with the reality?

“Are you ready to be fucked baby?”

I whimpered a yes, tensing but trying to relax.

“Say please.” She was milking the moment, teasing me, making the most of it, and I loved it.

“Do it… please.”

“Now?” Her hands gripped my waist.

“Pleeaase.” I was desperate, and my voice cracked with it, I needed it so badly.

Her hands moved, pulling my cheeks apart, not for her mouth this time, but for the thick black cock that nudged its way between them. She guided it carefully to the slippery, lubed up depression.

I felt the pressure increase against me, it didn’t feel right, and she knew it, adjusting, trying again, just a couple of millimeters higher, then she pressed again.

“There,” I hissed. “Oh fuck yes, there.”

The pressure increased, more and more, she gripped my waist and tugged gently on me as I pushed back against her. It wasn’t going in, it was too big. I whimpered in need and frustration, and then pain, as she tried again to break me with her new cock.

“Push back baby,” she whispered as she moved her hands again, pulling my cheeks apart, her hands sliding in spit and lube. “Push back.”

I pushed back against the pressure, feeling it increase, feeling the pain as my anus struggled to fight off the invasion, a struggle that slowly, wonderfully, it lost.

It gave a millimeter, two, pushing ever so slowly inwards, stretching the muscle, breaking the seal. I moaned loudly, a pool of drool beneath my open mouth as, slowly, painfully the thick plastic cock pushed past the tight barrier of muscle, stretching me wider than ever before.

“Yes baby, yes, I’m in you, I’m in your dirty bum hole,” there was lustful glee in her voice.

“Nmmmpph,” was about all I could reply as inch by inch she filled my cavity, pausing, withdrawing a fraction, then sliding ever deeper. Her hands moved again to my waist and she pulled herself in, all the way, pushing breath from my lungs and making me moan in abandon.

I lay panting heavily, impaled on the cock, her thighs against mine, the buckles and straps of her wonderful garment against my arse. Painfully I twisted my head as far as I could, I wanted to see her. I could, but only just, in my peripheral vision, the shape of her breasts, the flashes of red in her hair. I felt so stretched, so full, I quivered inside at the thought of her moving behind me, fucking me hard.

I reached back with my bound hands, stretching my fingers, finding her bellybutton and dipping inside. She took my hands, holding them by the belt that bound them. Her other hand reached forward, sliding between my shoulder blades, fingers spreading out around the back of my neck as she began to move, pulling back, withdrawing the cock.

“All the times you’ve fucked me Thom, all the times you’ve pounded my cunt with your cock…” she withdrew almost fully, then began to slide back in, pulling me back towards her, pushing her cock in me. “Now it’s my turn baby, I’m gonna pound you with my cock, I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

Nearly hypnotized by her voice, I could nevertheless hear the desire cracking it, but the sounds were drowned out by the sensations as her dick pushed in again, sliding quicker, all the way into my tight, stretched hole.

I grunted into the damp sheet, overcome, the tip of my cock rubbing against the cotton as she moved behind me, her hand gripping tight on my neck, and pulling me back by my wrists.

“Ysss,” I managed to say as again she slid inside, I was opening up to her now, the pain still there, but receding, the pleasure taking over as the fake dick massaged my insides, finding the zone as she pushed it in and slid it back out again, in, out, in, out faster now, her breathing audible, panting as she stopped making love to me and began to fuck me, really fuck me like I’d always dreamed, with her big strap on cock.

“Take it,” she hissed, the bed creaking, her thighs slapping against mine, damp now with perspiration.

I was there, it was everything I’d wanted, and it felt so, so fucking good, painful, intense, amazing. My moans, her panting breath and the squeaking, creaking of the bed all mixed up together. Oh, fuck yes.

She wasn’t touching my cock, but I felt like it would explode at any moment, I knew I was leaking, an almost constant stream of liquid flowing from me as she drove into me.

“Fuck me,” I grunted. “Fuck me harder.” I wanted everything she could give me and that was what I got, her own animal moans coming in time to her harder thrusts, I could only imagine what those nubs were doing to her pussy, and her own arse, but mine was on fire, slick wet, disgusting and beautiful fire.

“Ohhhhhh yes, yes, I’m gonna…” I moaned, getting close, I was gonna come, cock ready to burst. I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t even touching my cock and yet I was there, hovering on the edge of coming, it was intense, it was fucking amazing.

“Take it baby, take it baby, take it,” Hanna intoned, gasping behind me as she gave me everything, that huge fat cock pushing the air from me, pushing me over the edge…

I shook, and tensed up, my sphincter pulsing tighter around the rubber cock and then I exploded, gasping, loud then silent, then whimpering like a child as the torrid orgasm took my body from me, come gushing and spattering onto the sheets below.

Hanna gasped, reaching around for my cock, wanking me hard, and milking me of everything I had, her hand slip-sliding in come as she continued to pound into me. Eventually I collapsed forward, almost laughing, almost crying, overwhelmed and gasping as the dildo popped from my hole.

I lay there for a second or so, feeling Hanna quickly loosening the belt from my wrists, freeing my hands, then spinning me over to face her, blood returning to my hands as it drained from my cock, taking my energy with it.

I looked up at her as I lay panting like a landed fish. Breathless and wild, her cheeks were flushed red, her skin satin with sweat, a bead running down her forehead, her hair lank.

I watched as she removed the strap on, watched her face as the lengths of rubber slid from her twin holes and then watched as she slipped it from her hips, down her legs to be discarded on the floor.

She moved on the bed, kneeling beside me, stroking my face, I reached for her, pulling her face down to mine and kissing her thankfully.

It was a while before I spoke.


“You liked?” she asked, playing with my chest hair.

“Mmmm, it was so… wow,”

I melted, limp limbed into the bed, looking up at her, my beautiful Hanna, for a while she looked back, her chest still heaving, her hand trailing up and down my torso, until my eyes threatened to close.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep.” She gave me a playful slap on the face.

“You’ve tired me out.” I protested.

“I don’t give a shit, I’ve never been so fucking wet, you’re not sleeping yet.” There was real need there, and frustration, rather than playfulness in her voice.

Energy flowed again into my limbs as she leaned in and kissed me hard, her hand roughly grasping mine and pulling it insistently forward, between her parted legs.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, incredulous as my fingers found the flood. “I guess you enjoyed it then.”

“You have no idea,” she replied, as my fingers slipped easily inside, two digits sliding deep. “It was,” she smiled. “Wow”

I sat up, both of us kneeling now, my hand moving rhythmically in her soaking cunt, the other slipping behind her neck and pulling her into me, kissing her hard, loving it as she moaned lustily into my mouth.

“Do me Thom.”

I was still recovering from my orgasm, but my mind flitted to the cock lying on the floor, and I knew what I had to do.

I moved across the bed, leaving her needful cunt alone for a second and then reached down to the floor, buckles jangling as I picked up the dirty strap on dick.

She moaned her appreciation as she saw what I was getting, and as I looked back at her, her own hand had moved between her legs, slipping and sliding over flushed wet flesh.

I returned to her, unscrewing the cock from its base and then discarding it, leaving me with just the thick, long black dick in my hands. We kneeled before each other, her hand still moving between her legs as I raised the fake dick to her mouth. She looked at me, and back to the dirty cock, and I understood, she wanted me to show her the way.

Leaning forward towards her, our mouths, and the cock meeting in the middle, I stretched out my tongue and heard her moan as it made contact with the slippery, soiled plastic. The taste of rubber, lube, and something else mixed on my tongue. Seconds later her mouth joined mine, licking and sucking the cock, cleaning it, tasting it and tasting my arsehole upon it.

Our tongues clashed, our lips, and then we were kissing, franticly, mewling and hissing our desires into each other. The cock discarded momentarily as I slid my hand back down between her legs, joining hers there, pushing her fingers into herself, fucking her sodden cunt with hard, desperate fingers. Our bodies slid together, moist with sweat, her fat breasts pressing against me.

I pushed her back onto the bed, her legs spreading gleefully. She held them to her chest with hands behind knees as I lowered my mouth to her and drank, lapping up the free flowing juices until she dripped with a foamy mix of saliva and come. Her clit shone bright red and swollen, her loud gasps and murmurs sweet music as I flicked and licked at it with the tip of my tongue.

Then, as I noticed my cock was twitching alive again, swelling with every heartbeat, I headed south, past her crimson lips and weeping entrance, lower still to the puckered pink entrance to her anus. Placing my hands beneath her buttocks I lifted her up to my mouth, my tongue dipping into the depression, her moan telling me yes, yes, oh fuck yes.

I pushed in, stiffening my tongue and forcing it inside, surprised at how easily she opened up to me, her hands replacing my tongue on her cunt, fingers playing circular games on her clit. Her other hand pushed on the top of my head, demanding more of my tongue than I could give.

I tongue fucked her welcoming arse as deeply as I could, driven on by her gasping cries, and the sheer filthiness of the act, but soon my tongue could give no more, and I craved more, my dick aching, and so I released her, sitting up a little and picking up the big fake cock.

Hanna’s eyes widened as she saw it again.

“Yes,” her eyes feral. “Fuck me with it,” she demanded, as I lowered it between her thighs, her ripe, glistening pussy lay open, empty and begging to be filled.

Her eager cunt stretched around the invading plastic, swallowing it whole as I pushed it all the way, filling her completely and leaving her gasping. Moments later she was writhing on the bed, pelvis rocking, meeting and matching the thrusts as I fucked her with the thick dildo, her cries building rapidly. I grabbed her hand and forced it onto the cock, making her fuck herself, which she did eagerly, slamming that black dick forcefully inside herself, moaning and panting as she did so, wet sounds coming from between her legs as she dripped onto the sheets.

I took my own cock in my hands, stroking myself and spreading the slick of come and precome along its length as I watched her. She, in turn, watched me, her eyes hungry as she fucked herself, bucking against her heavy thrusts of the dildo.

I could have stayed watching the magnificent sight for ever, but I needed to get something. Leaning off the edge of the bed I picked up the discarded bottle of lube and then returned to kneel before her, cock in one hand lube in the other.

Hanna moaned as she watched the stream of slippery blue gel land on my already slick shaft, more of it dripping to the cotton sheets between my legs, the rest spread along my length with a slow fist.

She lifted her free hand, the one that wasn’t moving hard between her legs, and beckoned me closer.

“Thom,” she urged. “Please, now.”

Giddy, almost sick with desire I knelt between her thighs, looking hungrily downwards. Her sex juice flowed almost freely from her cunt, the dildo pushing out more with every thrust. It dripped into her pink arsehole, leaving it shining, drawing me in. I squeezed more lube on my fingers and lowered them there.

Her chest heaved, breasts wobbling as I eased a slick finger inside her bum hole, twisting it slowly within, the muscle gripping tightly. She moaned, clasping bed sheets, and then gasped as I removed it again, craving penetration of a different sort, but leaving that tight hole slick and ready for my arse hungry cock.

Hanna closed her eyes as she pushed the dildo inside herself as far as it would go, leaving just the thick black base jutting out, and then she lifted her arms above her head, bracing herself on the head board of the bed.

“Fuck my arse,” she hissed as I moved closer, taking a pillow and folding it up. She lifted her deliciously rounded buttocks from the bed as I moved the pillow beneath them, leaving her raised up, more accessible to my cock.

Closer still I moved, my cock nudging her, bouncing and sliding over her buttocks, into the cleft between, just beneath her sopping, dildo stretched pussy. Hanna whimpered and braced herself further as I pressed my cock against her, feeling and testing the resistance. I looked in her eyes as I pressed harder, guiding my steel shaft with one hand, holding her waist with the other.

Her eyes never left mine as I pressed myself into her. She bit down on her bottom lip, nostrils flaring as her anus was slowly forced to open around me. The resistance eased, brown eyes widening, mouth opening into a silent cry as the tight ring enveloped the head of my cock and I began to slowly slide into her.

That deliciously tight constriction moved slowly up my shaft as I pushed all the way, until the base of the black dildo touched my torso, my cock buried deep inside the filthy cavity.

I could feel that dildo above my cock, pressing against me, further restricting the space inside her, and when I moved, it moved, doubling her sensation.

I withdrew all the way, sliding wetly from her, just for the joy of entering her again, feeling that muscle stretch tightly around me as I took her arsehole again, pushing myself into her.

Leaning forward I placed my hands on the bed either side of her breasts

“Uhhhh, hhhhhh,” she stretched out her arms for me, grabbing my arse and pulling me in, demanding more.

Filled to the hilt, every inch of me inside her, I still strained for more, pushing the dildo with my lower belly, wanting deeper, the urge to fuck so strong.

Breathing heavily I withdrew till the swollen ridge of my cock pulled against her ring, pausing there, I then took in the beautiful sight before me, of my beloved, wanton slut, legs spread, chest heaving.

“Are you gonna fuck me or just look at me,” was my beloved’s hissed response.

I smiled, and then gave myself to the moment, driving my cock within her, making her gasp out loud, and then moan and beg for more as I began to fuck her anus with smooth, long thrusts.

Her arms stretched out to the sides, grasping anything that came their way as I slid powerfully within her. Her breaths came in time to my thrusts as each one seemed to push the air from her, her breasts spilling slightly to the sides, wobbling and bouncing with every movement.

Hanna’s cries became almost anguished as I began grunting with the effort, the bed protesting, her head reaching the padded headboard. Her lips mouthed the words she could not speak, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, her eyes imploring more from every thrust into her ravished anus.

Soon even mouthing words was too much, her head twisting, her body writhing as I fucked her, the sensations building in me, lost in the need to empty myself deep inside her.

“FuckyouFuckyouFuckyou…” I hissed with my thrusts as I felt her anus pulsing around me, her orgasm leaving her open mouthed and helpless, her arms fluttering in space, before finding my shoulders, leaving red crescents behind, her thighs shaking, rocking with the force of her pleasure.

Soon after that I exploded inside her, my cry filling the room as the sensations overwhelmed me, every nerve sparking and shattering, leaving me to collapse in sweaty pieces, withdrawing and climbing beside her on our damp bed.

I spooned her still shaking body, reaching over and between her legs, withdrawing the dripping dildo. She gasped as it slid from her hypersensitive pussy, she even shook when I kissed her shoulder.

Holding her, I let her come down in her own pace, until she turned and embraced me, planting a tender kiss on my lips.

“You can sleep now,” she whispered. “tired now.”

“What if I want to carry on?” I asked.

“Go ahead, I’ll just lay here.”

We stayed in silence for a while, holding each other, breathing slowly with deep eye contact.

“Thank you” I whispered, meaning it utterly, planting a light peck on her nose to emphasize it.

“Was I okay?” she asked. “Not too rough?”

“You were perfect,” I replied “I owe you one.”

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that.”

We kissed again and then I reached over and turned off the bedside light.

The next morning came, and I was late for work, rushing to finish my breakfast.

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