Darcy hasn’t had sex for over two years and she’s getting desperate – fantasising all the time, constantly horny. Her friend insists that a one night stand will calm down her rampant lust and convinces her to go to a party – a party well known for its sexual hookups, games, and antics. The questions is, will Darcy be brave enough to partake and scratch the itch that’s been driving her wild?
It had been over two years since I’d had sex with a man and even then it had been pretty mundane and lackluster sex, for at least the previous ten years. No sparks had flown between my ex husband and I for a long time, so you could say I was pretty lacking in the physical satisfaction department. Why it had suddenly become so urgent and, err, desperate, I don’t know. My needs were rising to the surface. So surely if I ensured those needs were met, then all this crazy lust would calm down? I realised, however, that to ensure my need were properly satisfied, I needed to hook up with a real live man. No battery-operated device was going to quell the thirst I’d been experiencing.
I saved my work, having completed another data entry task, and ticked off the fourth item on my to-do list for the morning, allowing myself to sit back for a minute and enjoy the remainder of my coffee as I gazed out the window at the busy street below. People rushing around like a colony of bees. All wrapped up in their own lives, all the centre of their own world, but all essentially the same. All with the same basic needs.
I would go to Hollie’s party with Maria, I’d decided. It was something I’d avoided since the first one I’d attended not long into my foray into singledom – I didn’t have a problem with the drinking or even the recreational drugs – though I didn’t partake myself – it was the games that had caused me to leave early. They’d gotten more risqué as the night got later on and the party-goers had got drunker. I could deal with items of clothing being shed, just about, so long as it wasn’t me doing the shedding – but when a dare had led to one woman performing fellatio on her roommate’s very married brother, I’d started making my excuses. When I’d later opened the bathroom door to the fellatio pair plus another woman I was sure I hadn’t even seen before – it was hard to tell with only her bare ass sticking towards me as the other two pleasured each other – I didn’t even bother to say any goodbyes, I was out of there like a bat out of hell, and I didn’t look back. It’s not that I’m a prude…. Ok, I’m a prude. I was shocked, and I’ve never accepted another invitation to Hollie’s parties again, despite Maria’s insistence that I need to lighten up and that the naked and sex stuff doesn’t always happen, and is totally optional. It just all made me feel so, awkward. But maybe that’s my problem, maybe I really so need to lighten up and not be so uptight about it all. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so sexually repressed.
Hell, even remembering stumbling into that threesome had caused some heat to start simmering between my legs. I wish I could live it again, be brave enough to step into that room instead of running away like a prissy. If I let myself think of the sensations, the experiences I could have had, instead of being so worried about being proper and what people think of me…
I picked up my phone and tapped out a text to Maria – Hollie’s party – I’m in.
I mean, it’s not like I had to do anything there, is it? It could just be a good opportunity to chill out and meet some new people, maybe a man – and we didn’t have to do anything right there on display, but if I met someone I liked, someone single, maybe, just maybe with a little Dutch courage I could go back to their place, or even utilise one of the many bedrooms in Hollie’s house.
Oh yes, that’s the other thing – Hollie is loaded. She lives in a huge five bedroom detached house outside of town with a swimming pool and a big gated driveway. She’s a big shot in TV, a producer or director or something. According to Maria all sorts of minor celebs like Brit TV stars and models frequent her parties, though I don’t think I recognised anyone at the one I went to.
My phone vibrated on the desk and I snatched it up – Yes! Love you wild child, this is gonna be EPIC. Call u later.
Saturday evening arrived and my excitement was rising. So was my anxiety – I’d nearly cancelled my night out about ten times throughout the day, each time backing away from my phone with the reminder to myself that I needed to at least give it a shot in the hope that I might calm down these crazy fantasies and dreams that seemed to have taken over my consciousness. Anyway, Maria would never forgive me if I backed out now. She’d always been the wild one, leading me astray, and loved an excuse to go out and have fun, despite being settled down with her man and her kids and very happy.
She would never cheat on Matt, but as she always said, that was no reason not to go out and have some innocent fun with other people. She claimed that maintaining separate and very busy social lives was what kept things fresh and fun between them, and they trusted each other implicitly. I often wondered if that was where it had gone wrong with Rick and I – maybe we’d clung on to each other too tightly, shutting everything else out, and when the lust had worn off, boredom had set in. Hell, Maria and Matt were happier together than any other couple I’d ever know even after three kids – you’d swear they were a new item and still in the honeymoon phase if you didn’t know better – so maybe she was onto something.
The problem was, I was starting to wonder if the advice she was giving me was really wise or whether she was just hoping to live vicariously through me! Stop it, I told myself as I applied a bright red lipstick. I know my mind was just trying to find more excuses to stay home, safe, comfortable, simple.
But even as I thought the thought, I felt a beat of disappointment inside – no, I wanted this – a part of me was longing to go out and maybe do something crazy. Or maybe not, I placated the part of me that freaked out at the thought. I would just go, and see what happened.
I was just about ready to go out, dressed in a black dress that might be conservative compared to how my daughter and her friends dressed for a night out, but to me felt extremely daring. It was certainly a departure from my usual night out ensemble of black trousers and nice sparkly top. Figure hugging and cut at least two inches above the knee, I felt rather inappropriate as I walked downstairs after having applied more makeup and hair product than I’d sported for years and realised my house was full of teenage boys. Well, that might have been a slight exaggeration – but three teenaged boys certainly seemed like too many in my current state of dress, even if one of them was my son and the other was on his way out the door.
“Bye Levi,” I said to Luke’s longest standing friend who was just leaving, yanking at the hem of my dress. I smiled at Luke, “I thought your friends were getting picked up at 6?” I asked, glancing meaningfully at the clock, which clearly showed it was closer to 7 now. I’d deliberately timed by ‘getting ready’ to ensure they’d be gone when I came down and that I would only have my own children to deal with.
“Oh yeah, we were so close to completing the game, I asked Justin to stay for a bit, he texted his dad. I tried to ask but you were in the shower. Didn’t think it would be that big a deal.” Luke didn’t look up from the alien shooting game he and his friend were playing. The house phone rang before I had time to reply, but there was little I could say anyway. Nobody used the house phone these days, which meant it could only be one person, my dinosaur of an ex husband who’d never quite got the hang of intricate modern technology, like mobile phones.
“Luke, that’ll be your dad,” I said gathering the dirty cups and snack bowls that had been left lying around.
“Mum can you just get it please, I won’t be a sec, if I stop now we’ll lose the game… there, over there, shoot him…” he shouted the last part, at the screen, not at me.
The ringing phone was persistent and annoying. With a roll of my eyes I went into the kitchen and semi-carefully dumped my armful of dishes before grabbing the handset from the wall by the breakfast counter.
“Hiya, it’s Rick.” As if he needed to tell me. His voice was more familiar to me than my own.
“Hey Rick, how’s it going?” I asked.
“Oh, good thanks. You know, busy at work.” Rick was an estate agent. A pretty good one, at that, used to make a lot of money. Seemed that his earnings had taken a dramatic reduction recently. Well, at least his contributions towards the mortgage and bills had – though he was still meeting his half of everything required of him, almost to the penny, just not the generous extra that he used to give us, hence my need to get a job. Maybe his earnings were still just as impressive but he spent it all on his new hobby, wasn’t my business to ask any more.
“Oh that’s good,” I said, noticing that he didn’t bother to ask me about my new job, even though I knew he knew about it. Sad really, I thought, that after years of sharing our most intimate dreams and secrets, our conversations were now reduced to polite niceties. Sadder still that it didn’t bother me at all, that all I really wanted to do right then was get him off the phone and get to this party to potentially lose my divorcee-virginity to a complete stranger.
“Is Luke around?” he asked, and I heard the new girlfriend in the background prompting him to hurry up as they were late to whatever they were supposed to be doing. Hearing her voice stirred no feelings in me at all – no anger, no jealousy. In fact, I kind of felt the same as her – hurry up, I’m late. Maria would be here any moment to collect me – she wasn’t going to leave me to get there on my own and give me an opportunity to find an excuse and back out – despite picking me up en route to the house meaning a vast detour in her taxi journey.
“Well he is, but whether or not he’ll detach himself from that flipping X-box long enough to talk to you is anyone’s guess. Hold on,” I covered the mouthpiece and yelled “Luke, your dad wants to talk to you.” He appeared immediately and took the phone, just as I heard the doorbell ring.
Oh no, Maria was early and I hadn’t even drilled Emily in the babysitting rules yet. I was starting to feel flustered now as I marched down the hall to open the door. Maria would just have to wait, and so would the taxi.
“I’m sorry hun, but I need ten more minutes…” I insisted as I pulled the door open, only to find a rather startled looking man standing there. Justin’s dad’s (what was his name again?) face broke out into that joker like smile.
“Well sure love,” he joked, clearly realising I’d expected someone else.
“Oh God, how embarrassing, I’m so sorry – I thought you were my friend, do come in.” I stepped aside and motioned for him to pass. It didn’t escape my attention how his eyes appraised me up and down quickly as he did so. I felt a little flutter of pleasure as his eyes lingered slightly on the low cut neckline of my new dress.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, you look lovely,” he said as he walked into the hallway, and he didn’t sound smarmy or sleazy at all. In fact he sounded completely genuine.
“Oh, thank you,” I replied with only a slight blush. It felt nice to be complimented, made me feel attractive. “I don’t always dress like this on a Saturday night, you’d usually find me in my pyjamas,” I said. I ushered him towards the kitchen to cover my embarrassment. “I’m just off out to a party with a friend. Not that I go out very often…” I added quickly, not wanting him to think I was some kind of irresponsible mother.
“Well I hope you have a very nice evening, I think it’s important for everyone to enjoy a little down time. Even parents. Especially parents,” he added with a low laugh, and I noticed the dimples in his cheeks then. Oh wow – he really was attractive in a very man next door kind of way. I even found myself checking out his butt as he walked ahead of me into the kitchen where Luke and Justin were now raiding the biscuit tin. Nice. Wouldn’t mind feeling that butt in my hands.
My mind drifted…
Justin’s dad and I sharing a cozy glass of red wine in the kitchen as I cooked for a him on our first date – a cozy little meal. He seemed like the cozy, dependable, fun type – but with a cheeky side. I could see him watching me cook, topping up my wine. Distracting me by coming over and planting butterfly kisses up and down my neck, running his hands up and down my side. Down lower and lower until he finds them hem of my dress. Eventually we turn off the food and he takes me there and then on the kitchen counter, my dress hitched up around my waste, wine glasses cast to the side, his jeans around his ankles, my hands firmly on that cute butt as he thrusts into me harder and harder….
“Hey buddy, time to get home.” His voice bought me back to reality with a thud. “Thank Luke and his mum for having you, and then we’ll get out of their hair.”
He turned and smiled at me again and I noticed his eyes dip down towards my cleavage again. I smiled back, realising I wasn’t offended at all, and actually quite enjoyed the attention. It was almost as if he’d tuned into my little daydream. I definitely wasn’t imagining the glint in his eye. I glimpsed own at his left hand and noticed he wore no wedding band. Hmmm, interesting.
After they’d left, I gave the kids a reminder of the official ‘home alone’ rules – what to eat, what not to eat, what to watch, what not to watch, who to call in an emergency and all that jazz (well, I really didn’t go out very often and though it made life so much easier that Emily was now old enough and responsible enough to be left in charge of her brother, it didn’t make it any easier to hand over the reins, even just for one night). I gathered all my essential things together in the flashiest handbag I owned – house keys, lipstick, phone, condoms… okay, so that last one made me tremble a little at the reality they bought to what I was potentially about to do, but after feeling the waves of attraction coming from Justin’s dad (whose name I either didn’t yet know or couldn’t remember), I knew deep down how ready for this I was. I needed it. I needed to move on, and my body needed some release from all this pent up sexual tension.
The house was even more impressive than I’d remembered it, and I couldn’t help but gaze up in awe as we exited the taxi outside the grand front door, on the circular driveway.
Everything looked immaculate, from the symmetry of the grand house itself to the manicured lawns surrounding us, and even the plants standing sentry either side of the large glossy black front door. For a moment I felt a little overwhelmed and out of place – a prim suburban housewife like me did not belong at high society soirees. I mean, come on, what did I have to talk about with any of these high flying career people?
Then Maria took my arm as we walked up the three steps to the front door and I relaxed and reminded myself I’m an attractive, intelligent woman who fits in here just as well as any of the other guests (at least that’s what Maria had kept telling me in the taxi), and anyway, they didn’t come here for the conversation – they came here to let off steam and have some fun. I was grateful for the mini vodka bottles Maria had slipped from her handbag for us to down on the journey here – the alcohol had taken the edge off my nerves, and hearing the bass of music pulsing from within the house I realised I was actually more excited than anxious.
I half expected a doorman to open the door and usher us in, but Petie himself pulled it open before we’d even rung the bell.
“Ladies, hello, Ohhhh Myyyyy God, you both look completely luscious, come in, come in…” His light eyes sparkled and I remembered then how lovely Petie was, if a little over the top. I wasn’t even sure if he remembered us or had any clue who we were, but he was clearly well practiced at this. Dressed in jeans and a white tee-shirt with a bowtie around his neck and bright pink tousled hair, I felt kind of at ease. If Petie in all his uniqueness could fit in, then surely I wouldn’t have a problem. After handing us both a glass of champagne from a large table full of them in the entryway, he grabbed us both by the hand and led us through the huge marble hallway towards the dining room.
“Let’s find Hollie and tell her you’re here, she was so excited you were coming.” I wasn’t sure about that but the vodka buzz stopped me from caring. Maria gave me an isn’t this great kind of grin behind Petie’s back and I couldn’t help responding with my own grin. I felt a genuine buzz, and it wasn’t just the vodka. The last time I’d attended one of Hollie’s parties I’d been newly single and tender in my emotions. I’d barely been out socially in years and it had all been too much – like being exposed to a bright light after years in a dark room. But now, well, it’s not like I was a social butterfly or anything but I’d certainly adapted to singlehood, I was more sure of myself, I had a job and was getting out of the house, I was a vastly different person than I had been two years before.
Petie led us first through the formal lounge, with its exquisite cream and gold décor and renaissance style art, which would look pretentious in most people’s houses but totally fit right in here. People were everywhere, standing in clusters around the edges, sitting on the sofas chatting, and even a group sitting on the floor. Nothing untoward looked to be happening – yet, but everyone seemed to be having a good time. I smiled at a few familiar faces, though some I wasn’t sure if I knew through having met them here last time, from college, or from glossy magazines. The R&B music in the background seems completely at odds with the house and the high-class caliber of guests, but somehow, it worked.
We found Hollie in the kitchen, putting pizzas in the oven (not gourmet pizzas either – deep pan chicken and bacon ones from the local supermarket at my guess) whilst seemingly holding a conversation with about ten people standing around the room and sitting on the stools at the large marble counter who were all hooked on her every word (Hollie tended to have that affect on people).
“Hollie look who’s arrived,” Petie announced grandly and presented us with both hands, as if he were a game show dolly bird presenting the top prize. I could only hope everyone got this same treatment and we weren’t here as some kind of sacrificial lambs in their kinky games. I took another swig of my champagne to hush the silly voices of fear and smiled around the room vaguely, not allowing myself to make eye contact with anyone specifically. I didn’t want to accidentally ignore anyone I’d met before and for them to think me horribly rude. Better that I wait for others to initiate conversation.
“Oh darlings, you came! It’s been so long.” Hollie closed the oven door and cast her oven gloves to the side before clacking across the granite tiles with open arms to greet us. I needn’t have worried about my dress being too revealing – Hollie’s number was at least 5 inches shorter than mine and she had a good 5 inches on my height, meaning the hemline of her skin tight lacy scarlet frock barely covered her curvy but cheeks. She hugged Maria first and kissed her on the mouth, a rather long peck at that.
“Maria, my darling, it’s so good to see you, look at you,” she stepped back and appraised Maria’s turquoise skirt and leopard print vest. “Wow, you have to give me your stylists number.”
She turned her attention to me then and I was glad that the other guests in the room seemed to have sparked up little pockets of conversation. “And well look at you. This is what two years of being single does for a woman huh? You always were gorgeous love, but you look different – more relaxed.” Her eyes were gleaming and I wondered if she had partaken of more than just champagne. She embraced me as I thanked her and she whispered in my ear “Oh you are gonna have some fun tonight girl” and I desperately hoped she was just referring to partying and not anything else. I found myself wondering if Maria had notified her of my situation, but no, I didn’t think Maria would do that. The three of us had all been close in college, but Maria and I had always been closest and we both knew that while Hollie was good fun, she wasn’t the person to go to with a secret.
Somebody called Hollie’s name then and after telling us to help ourselves to drinks, she was pulled into a conversation with someone else.
“I’m just nipping to the loo hun,” Maria told me after we’d helped ourselves to fresh glasses of champagne and I tried not to panic at being left alone. You’re a grown woman I reminded myself as I shrank back against the kitchen counter and sipped my champagne, then nibbled a mini quiche from a nearby tray.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing all alone?” Asked a man with a posh voice, who I was pretty sure I’d never seen before.
“Oh,” I laughed, not sure how to answer, “I guess I’m not very good at this mingling business.”
“Nonsense, you’re just trying to be the mysterious woman right? All alluring and untouchable.” He swapped my empty champagne glass for a full one without asking if I want one, but I really did – though I remind myself to watch how much I drank. Letting loose should definitely be done with caution and definitely not whilst too drunk. Last one, I promised myself, already feeling the bubbles go to my head and then I’ll switch to water.
“Oh I don’t know about that, but I guess it’s more glamorous than the truth so we’ll go with your version.” I laughed, and leaned one elbow on the kitchen counter jutting out a hip and turning my body towards the man, who suddenly seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe it was the sure-of-himself lopsided smile. Or the beard. Yes, a beard, which I usually don’t like, but on him it worked. It didn’t make him look old and ragged, it made him look kind of regal in fact. He was tall – I had to look up to talk to him, and was kind of big but without being either fat or particularly muscly – just kind of well built. He seemed kind of bearish, in a way.
“Have we met before?” I ask, more confident under the influence of champagne than I ever would be normally.
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” he answered and moved a little closer. I realised neither of us had asked each other’s names yet, but I kind of liked that. Could I have sex with this man? I wondered. Will I have sex with this man? A little thrill ran through me at the thought, a jolt like an electric charge down below.
“Shall we go somewhere a little more comfy?” He asked, and I was shocked by how forward he was. Am I really ready for this? Just like that? He leaned down and whispered in my ear “I just mean the lounge, to sit down” and then he smiled and winked at me and I giggled, reminding myself to relax, staring to feel quite mellow from all the champagne. He took my hand in his large warm one, which felt really rather nice, and lead me back into the lounge, passing Hollie, who’d clearly returned while I was talking and decided not to interrupt my potential hook-up, as we went.
“I’m just going to the lounge to chat with my new friend” I told her and she gave me big thumbs up before returning to her conversation with a small group of women who all seemed to be comparing breast size.
The lounge seemed less packed than before – people were spreading out, the veranda doors were open and I noticed a couple outside kissing and groping each other in the moonlight. In a corner of the now dimly lit lounge, two couples seemed to be getting rather cozy, kissing and canoodling, and then switching over partners. I averted my eyes, not quite comfortable yet with such public displays of sexual openness. In contrast, the other occupants of the room were standing around sedately, chatting in a most civilised display of manners as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Or maybe they were just waiting for the games to begin, it was early yet.
We settled onto one of the small sofas – which looked upright and stiff but was surprisingly comfortable – and I noticed that he sat close enough that our outer thighs were pressed tightly together despite there being plenty of space the other side of him. He draped an arm casually on the chair behind me and I had to stop myself from leaning into him. My whole body was buzzing, picking up on the thrilling vibe of the party itself, feeling myself throw caution to the wind and decide to go with the flow and see where the evening took me.
“So what does a gorgeous woman with you do with her time?” he asked me, but I didn’t want to talk about myself, I didn’t want to talk about my kids, or my ex husband, or my job, or my loneliness.
“I’m a secret agent. I’m here on a special mission actually,” I said, surprising even myself.
“Oh you are?” he raised and eyebrow and smiled. “Well maybe I can help you with your mission. What’s the objective?”
“Oh there’s somebody here in this party who’s very dangerous and I need to lure them into a false sense of security before getting them to reveal all their secret villainous plans,” I mock-whispered.
“Oh gosh, that sounds dreadfully dangerous,” he replied.
“Oh it is, very, very dangerous. I leave myself exposed and vulnerable, but it’s all for a good cause.” I ran my finger around the rim of my half empty glass and looked up at him from under my eyelashes. I was turning myself on even more with my newfound flirty side, and the feeling of power it gave me.
“Well you are a brave woman indeed. All exposed, and vulnerable. And how are you going to go about finding the culprit?” His voice was getting more gravelly and looked at me more intently, leaning in closer as he spoke, and I could tell our playful conversation was turning him on. I liked it.
“Well by a process of elimination, of course, I will just have to wear each man here down until the villain is exposed.”
“Exposed, hmmm. So where do you plan to start?”
“Well I guess here is as good a place as any,” I said, and our heads were so close that the kiss seemed so natural I’m not even sure who started it. What surprised me most was how into it I was. The first man who’d approached me, the first man I’d spoken to, the first man who’d made a move, and I was like yes please, fuck me, I’m desperate. Wasn’t that terrible? Shouldn’t I be a bit more picky? No! Fuck that – I was desperate and this man was certainly doing it for me. I came here with one intention and one intention only. Why waste time?
He could have ripped my top down right there and exposed my breasts in all their glory and I don’t think I would have cared how many people were watching. The rush that hit me when his tongue found mine, his beard scratching pleasantly against my skin, his hand holding the back of my head firmly, was immense. Right down through my stomach, into my deepest nether regions, as nerve cells that had been sleeping for years were waking up and sparking back to life. I pulled myself closer to him, wanting to touch him, to be connected.
“Let’s go somewhere private,” he whispered in my ear, his eyes hungry, and I was so grateful to him for talking sense, for I think I would have happily fucked that stranger right there and then on that sofa in front if everyone, so drunk on lust as I was. I nodded and he pulled me up from the sofa, walking with speed down another hallway I hadn’t yet seen. I didn’t notice anyone around us, even though there were people, just a blur of noise and colour and movement. All that was focussed in my attention was him, and my desperate throbbing need.
He poked his head into three rooms before finally finding one suitably empty. He pulled the door shut behind us. We were in a small gym.
“Oh my,” I say, looking around at the gym equipment, “the perfect place for an interrogation.”
“Oh you go ahead and interrogate the fuck out of me baby,” he said, and it sounded ridiculously fucking sexy in his private school accent. Maybe, in that heightened state of lust, any one would have sounded ridiculously fucking sexy.
He pulled off his shirt to reveal a broad chest as hairy as his beard and a well-toned stomach, and I found myself wondering if he was actually a werewolf with all that hair. Or a Viking. Or a Viking-werewolf maybe. I found the thought worryingly arousing. In fact, I was so turned on I thought I might spontaneously combust if I didn’t do something about it. Every dream, every fantasy, every day and night I’ve gone un-fucked all combined in this moment of delicious opportunity. This man in front of me, this stranger who didn’t know who I was and who I never had to see again should I choose, willing and eager. Ready and able to make any of my fantasies come true. This was it. This was the moment I could decide. Turn around and leave or prove to myself and the world that I am not a prude, that I am a liberated fucking woman. There was no longer any doubt in my mind – I was not leaving this party without cumming at least once.
It was time to get back on that horse.
Putting my hands on his shoulders I pushed him down onto a weights bench so he was lying down on his back. His erection strained against the material of his trousers and I just gazed at it for a moment in awe as he lay patiently, looking at me.
“See something you like?” He asked with a half smile, his eyes hooded, he looked as drunk on lust as I felt. An electric energy charged the air between us, that intangible frisson of delight that buzzed like a thousand watts of desire. I hadn’t experienced that feeling with a man for a long, long time. Since the early days with Rick, when we’d take every opportunity to touch each other, grab each other. In the bushes in the park on the way home from a date, in the kitchen when we couldn’t make it to the bedroom – even once in the toilets of the cinema.
“Did I say you could speak, prisoner?” Did spies call Viking-werewolves they were interrogating ‘prisoner’? I wondered briefly, then laughed at myself internally. What a redundant crazy thought to cross my mind in that hedonistic moment. Maybe I really was crazy with pent up need.
“Pardon me, mam. I’ll be quiet.” I tried to look at him sternly, but I was losing the ability to role-play, to think straight, to even see straight.
All thoughts of anything expect this moment were lost into a fog of lust that engulfed me and I climb astride my stranger, allowing my little black dress to ride up and reveal my lacy black G-string beneath – the one I’d bought especially for tonight to match the G-string in my fantasy sex with delivery man. But this was no fantasy – this was very real. This big, hot, solid man between my legs was very real.
“Just have to make sure you’re not carrying any concealed weapons.” My voice came out husky and raw with potent need. He lifted up his hips as I pulled down his boxer shorts, and his erection sprang free.
“Oh I’m carrying alright – and fully loaded,” he said, and I smiled but barely heard him.
He hadn’t complained about my hesitation, in fact he seemed to be getting more aroused as I gazed down at him. I reached a hand forward to touch his hard-on, running the flat palm of my hand over it, savouring the hardness of it. He groaned, and reached a hand up in response to my stroking, cupping my breast through my bra, gently squeezing one then the other as if weighing them, measuring them. It felt so good to be touched by a man, my body felt alive for the first time in so long.
His breath was getting faster and hotter as I rubbed him up and down with my palm, his hips beginning to push up towards me, eager for more, both hands now cupping my breasts, pawing at my bra, pulling the cups down until my breasts were revealed, bouncing and swinging with my movements, my nipples stiffening under his fingers.
“Oh fuck you have amazing boobs.” He let out a kind of half groan, half growl.
This was what I wanted, skin on skin. This was what I’d yearned for. Oh fuck, yes, this was getting very real. The feeling of being in control, of having power over this man, made me feel even more turned on. A real live dick, all hot and hard and ready for me. My knickers were damp with anticipation as I fully wrapped my hand around his shaft and he groaned even deeper. I started to stroke slowly up and down, watching in wonder as he grew harder still.
“Take your dress off?” he requested, and so I pulled it up over my head. Revealing my lacy bra and knickers, then went back to stroking my new toy.
“Fuck, you’re the best looking secret agent I’ve ever seen,” he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him, so his cock was hard against my nub, making me gasp, I moved my hips instinctively, grinding myself against him, I couldn’t help it. I was so fucking wet, so fucking ready for him.
He gripped the top of my knickers as if to pull them down, eager to access me, then realised that wouldn’t work him between my legs and instead he stroked his fingers down the hem of my underwear, down lower and lower until his fingers were brushing the edge of my pussy and I all but blacked out from need.
Blood rushed to my clit, it felt as if it was pulsing, screaming out to be touched, caressed. There was no comprehensive thought in my mind any longer as I stroked him harder and harder, only feelings, sensations, desires. The sound of his heavy breathing, the smell of our arousal. The feeling of his finger now reaching that sweet spot – oh yes, oh fuck yes! Then his thumb replaced his finger, circling firmly around my clit and I bucked my hips against him as he slipped a finger inside the hem of my lacy knickers, pulling the material to the side, finding the entrance to my pussy easily it was so slick with my juices, so eager and ready. His finger inside me. One finger, then two, then three, in and out, in and out, as his thumb put pressure on my clit.
I stroked him faster and faster.
We were like two teenagers left alone for the first time at night, desperate to touch and be touched, please and be pleased. Hand jobs, finger jobs, flooded with hormones and crazy with need.
“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”
“No you’re not, I said firmly, holding onto just about enough sanity to release his swollen cock from my hand and pull myself up and away from his fingers and thumb. I moved myself forward, then leaned down and kissed him softly, my tongue gently probing his mouth as I rolled the condom onto him – the one he produced as if by magic (thank God one of us was prepared). I positioned myself over his cock, pulling my knickers to the side with one hand.
I sat up straight, taking the weight on both my feet, and then with no warning I sat down hard on him, pushing his cock deep into me, and I let out a wail of delight as he gasped with pleasure – I nearly came right there and then as I felt him fill me up, grinding myself down onto him. I started to ride him, slowly, oh so slowly, up and down, in and out, taking pleasure I every stroke of his dick inside me as his hips rode up to meet me with each stroke and drive it in even deeper, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me on to him.
I arched my back, my breasts free and swinging as I started to gyrate my hips in circles, causing him to groan loudly, causing a new sensation of bliss to pulse inside me.
“Holy fuck woman…” the rest of what he said was completely unintelligible.
My movements were getting faster and faster. I knew I couldn’t last much longer, and when his thumb found my clit again as I rode him like a bucking bronco, I was gone. My vision went completely white as every nerve ending in my body lit up with my orgasm. It pulsated through me, swallowing me up, sending ripples of ecstasy through my pussy, through my whole entire being. As I screamed, he screamed too, and drove himself into me hard as he came inside me – his secret spy, his alluring stranger.
I thought it might feel odd afterwards, sitting on this stranger as we both caught our breathe after such an intimate act. It did and it didn’t. I didn’t feel too awkward anyway, I felt empowered. I gave him a slow lazy smile as I climbed off of him and started to collect my clothes. What was I supposed to do now, to say now? Thank you?
“Well that was quite something,” he said, breaking the silence. “Can I ask your name?”
“You can ask, but I won’t tell you. I think it’s best to keep things casual. I was looking for a good night, nothing more.” I bit my lip to stop myself apologising – we both knew the deal, I hadn’t made any implications or promises of further encounters.
“Ah, still the alluring mysterious woman. I love it. I suppose a phone number is out of the question then?”
I smiled at that. “One night only.”
“Well, in that case, I do believe it’s still that night.” With a cheeky smile he reached out a hand and after a moment’s hesitation I took it, and let him pull me back towards him.
Some time later I went home from that party with no regrets, a sore but happy pussy, and plenty of memories to keep me warm at night. I decided I quite liked being back on the horse.
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