Britslut’s
Slutty Stories
Facing
© Copyright britslut 2005. No re-use allowed without permission.
‘Hi, you OK? Sorry I’m a bit late.’
She enters his flat and goes straight into the lounge, where he has already placed the two armchairs facing, a couple of feet apart. Without any fuss she begins to undress, and he does the same, wondering again at her lack of emotion. Under the smart business suit and blouse she wears her usual expensive bra and panties - no tights or stockings. Casually she removes everything, letting the items fall to the floor.
He is also naked now and already semi-erect. The sight of her tall, lean body, although familiar, never fails to excite him. With a faint smile she sits on a chair and hooks her legs over the arms, splaying her long thighs wide and opening up her crotch to his eyes without any shame. Her thin blonde hair does not conceal her labia and the dark pink gash between.
He sits opposite her, his cock now hard and resting up his stomach. Once more he wonders how old she is; a couple of levels above him in the firm, she must be at least ten years his senior. Her lithe body with its tan lines and small breasts give little hint of her age or history, however.
She licks her lips and circles a finger around her nipple, watching the aureole pucker and the dark nub stiffen. Her other hand slides down her stomach to rub her puss, first with the flat of her hand, then with one finger between her lips, and finally with a finger on either side of her long clitoris, the position she likes best.
He grasps his cock in his fist and strokes it slowly but firmly, relishing the hardness and the growing feeling of pressure. They sit opposite, lost in their own private worlds of pleasure, watching each other masturbate without embarrassment. His cock starts to ooze pre-cum and he smears it over the fat purple glans to give some lubrication. He can see the slit between her swelling labia is glistening with moisture.
The woman climaxes first. Forcing herself to keep her eyes open, she starts to moan, her fingers working faster, then shudders as the waves of bliss wash through her. He can see the muscles in her stomach and thighs tensing as the orgasmic pulses take hold of her. She continues to massage her clit, gently now, as her climax slowly ebbs.
The sight has increased his arousal to just below breaking point. He forces his hand to slow, delaying his rising orgasm as long as he can. She is relaxed, her body limp, her fingers still framing her prominent clitoris, her eyes fixed on his cock. As he feels the climax approaching, he stands up on aching legs and rests his free hand on the back of her chair, aiming his iron-hard erection at her face. The woman gives him a grin and opens her mouth.
With a groan he ejaculates, a thin jet of semen splashing onto her nose, followed by several more, achingly spurting until he is empty and weak-kneed. Some of them enter her mouth but the rest splatter against her face and chest. He sits back, still grasping his softening cock. Her fingers have began to move again, drawing further pleasure from her body, while the trickles of semen slide slowly down her face and breasts and stomach.
Her orgasm this time is more intense, her face contorting with ecstasy, her hips bucking and shuddering, the tendons in her thighs as taut as wire. When it has finally ebbed she gives him another grin and swallows the sperm that she has been holding in her mouth.
He stands and gives her a towel, and the woman wipes her face and chest roughly. She picks up her clothes and dons them quite unconcernedly, while he watches her, wondering what she is thinking. Does she have a husband waiting at home? Children to see to? Will she have sex with someone that night?
‘Same time next week?’ she says, and he nods.
She closes the front door behind her, and he goes over to the chair she has sat on and rubs a finger in the smear of wetness that has leaked from her vagina. He tastes it carefully. Apart from exchanging fluids, they have never even touched.
last modified 26 April 2005