your skin

surprised me with its softness

tasted good when i licked it

and looked so hot naked

its been a while

but ive been having fun...

dolly is the new boy
keen as mustard and takes everthing i throw at him
ill tell you more later

it had been an age...

...but here he was laying head, to my toes. The sultry weather adding to the sex laden atmosphere.

I was playing with my pussy, the wetness was fairly squelching, as he watched. Suddenly he inserted a finger, then three. I love the stretch, feels soooo dirty.

He said my nipples looked like bullets they were so hard and I laughed as I came.

Cuddling till my brain re engaged I knelt over his thick, mesmerising, cock and licked and sucked, sucked and twirled till he came. I held him in my mouth then turned and spat his spunk back in his mouth before we kissed. Perfect.

spring thaw..

..is coming early this year. ive been gone a while and some of that time ive played, splayed, flayed and laid. then came summer, autumn, winter and the ironic whiplash that made me stop. the pains still there but maybe, just maybe that will help me empathise. more likely it will make me crosser when you whimper at the lightest touch.

strawberries & cream…

...instantly bring to mind Wimbledon, summer and henry.

henry spends a lot of time abroad for his work so our trysts are few and far between. as a result i am always happy to move things round to make time for him while he is here. this time he was flying in from canada, would I meet him in central london? there was only one answer to that.

preparing for a date always takes effort but the rewards for taking the time are enormous. unless i want a sub to shave me i always de-fluff from head to toe and then layer the perfume range i use with body cream, talc and finally the perfume. scent is so important, dab behind the backs of your knees as well as your wrists and neck.

my underwear always matches and is expensive. It makes me feel wonderful and incredibly sexy to pull on silk knickers, to have fully fashioned nylons shape my legs, mmmm. if i am using public transport i will either tone down my dress or wear a big coat!

settling on a black wrap round with a plunging neckline i slip on my 5” stilettos, brush my lips with cock-sucker red lipstick and look for my “kit” bag.

i keep a travel bag containing toys and tools under my bed ready for sessions away from home. i have a few dildos of different sizes, a strap-on, nipple clamps, cuffs, collars, crops, paddles and of course piles of condoms and lube; dirty sex that isn’t safe is just dirty. all of these items form the basis of my “kit”, depending on the event i could have saran wrap, feathers, silk scarves, butt plugs, blindfolds et al.

henry loves having his arse played with but is not turned on by pain in anyway so i threw out the clamps and paddles replaced them with some nice lace underwear in his size and i was ready to leave.

the journey to the west end had me wriggling in my seat. the tube was rocking from side to side producing a lovely level of friction in my knickers. my nipples were hardening and none of this was being helped by the stares of my fellow passengers. it’s the lipstick, so bright and red, it always makes me smile.

my heels clicked as i walked across the marble foyer of the hotel, my dress swished round my thighs. i saw the concierge look up from his post. i smiled at him, still walking towards the lifts.

there is always a touch of nerves as i check myself out in the lift mirror. gorgeous. i took a deep breath and stepped into the corridor. the clicking disappears into the pile of the carpet and everything is silent. hotels have that peculiar effect of compartmentalising everything so experiences become more intense but disjointed.

i knocked on the door turning my body sideways to avoid the face front approach. i always do that, it profiles my large chest and allows me a few moments to collect my thoughts and make them move to me. the door opened and there he stood, all twinkly eyed and smiling. he looks like such a sensible grown up till his eyes twinkle, at that point the lothario is clearly visible.

instantly i felt my heart beat a little faster as i offered first my cheek then lips for kissing. his kisses start strongly and just get deeper. he begins to fuck my mouth with his tongue before he has even moved to let me in the room.

we paused, laughing and i passed my kit bag to Henry as i walked in a lovely room. on the side, instead of the usual flowers were punnets of strawberries, a pint of cream and two glasses of champagne, heaven.

i pulled out the silk knickers and indicated i wanted henry to undress and put the knickers on. his cock looked so lush straining against the pretty fabric. he stroked himself as i began to divest myself of clothes. in short order i was naked aside from my heels and lipstick. i lay down on the enormous bed sliding my hand over the egyptian cotton sheets.

i opened my legs wide to show henry just how pleased i was to see him, and how ready i was for him to please me. running my hands down to my groin i felt my clit swell and knew how ready i was to play.

reaching for a strawberry henry looked me straight in the pussy as he knelt at the foot of the bed.

‘you like strawberries don’t you?’

i nodded

‘want this strawberry?’

he took my smile as acquiescence and so very slowly pushed the strawberry between my labia.

‘hold it there for me’

i nodded again and closed my eyes. it felt a little odd, naughty, but nice. the next sensation took my breath away as i felt the cream being poured over my breasts. i gasped, damn it was cold and heck how much did he have, the sheets? the thoughts stopped abruptly as the stream reached my c*nt. then he was between my legs eating the strawberry out of my fanny. i laughed with the sheer joy of it as he made his way up to my mouth passing mulched strawberry, cream and pussy juice into my mouth to swallow, yum.

we ate the strawberries as he massaged the cream into my body, the mess we left on the sheets was outrageous. squished strawbs leaving bloody pulp trails around islands of fat cream. rivulets of champagne joined the picture before soaking into the counterpane followed by cum which seemed to fly everywhere.

it was great fun, decadent and frivolous. i fingered his arse, manipulating his prostate as i rubbed my breasts across his body, we watched each other masturbate, cumming together.

time for a shower and dinner. the maitre d’ made me smile when we left the restaurant by wishing us a good sleep. we did, eventually, only to start all over again in the early hours. henry loves adding kink to our sessions, it makes them special for both of us. can’t wait to try a sound on him next time…

when he's 64...

will it be a deliciously naughty time we have?

he suggested a night of culture, a play, concert, maybe an opera. could he educate me? at school they had taught me with the notes coloured in and ive never made the leap to grown up stuff. he offered to bring crayons with him when we met and laughed when i told him about not sticking to within the lines.

the bar was full of young, pasty faced boys and girls without a mark of character on their faces. he, on the other hand, was slightly crumpled, with a worldly wise glint in his eyes. he smelt wonderful, opoponax, he offered, from africa. mmmm.

i wore a scarlet corset over black and his eyes shone as they rested on my declotage.

we talked and drank and flirted. he, the aging lothario, me the playful cougar. well met.

its like we stepped outside society, swapped ideas on the perverse, divulged dark secrets. reality occasionally interrupted in the form of a delicious 20 something, waitress. i told her how attractive she looked and he asked if she would like to go to bed with us both. i think she would have but my needs come first.

we agreed to meet for breakfast the following day then kissed. you fuck my mouth with your tongue, are you as strong in bed? yes, i said.

10am and there he was, even more disheveled than the night before. he had gone from drinks with me to the bed of one of his girlfriends. the man is a legend.

age is irrelevant its experience that counts. he is very experienced with a mouth as filthy as a dockers. he knows the delights of pressure. touching me with a firm, assured hand. i was as wet as a wet thing. his fingers were slipping in and out before i could undress him. i sighed. he laughed and unzipped his flies.

the cock he released was massive. i was staring, it was enormous, damn i wasnt sure it would fit...i chortled as i told him i know understood why, at 64, he was so fucking cock-sure.

we fondled and sucked, fucked and caressed each other. he wanted to see my toys so i produced a pillowcase full, his turn to stare. well met, well matched; he was good, very good.

will i see him again? undoubtedly, we fell from the same tree, just a decade or 2 apart. when sex is that good who's counting...

kiev kink

was all i could think about. until last week i had no idea kiev was my sexual mecca; now i know.

the men were rugged, strong, manly, tall, thick of limb. every arse induced a clit tic. i had a hard on for four days, i was in heaven.

prolonging the before, building the anticipation, all part of the game.

you know the tricks, you love them; how i brush my hands across my breasts or accidentally flash bending over/down, painting my lips, cocksucker red. all of it to make you look at me and want me. except...

...you werent there. they were, he was. a random fuck. a furious rutting. he scratched the itch for a time.

the end began as he grabbed my arse in the lift. his hands cupped my cheeks, da? da, i was soaking.

i pushed back into his groin, he shoved a hand down my top. i squeaked. breathing stuttered as the air turned to sex. fuck. we tumbled out of the lift and tripped down the hall. fingers and tongues everywhere.

i came

he rubbered up.

his cock was stretching me before the room door was opened. the stretch was wonderful.

clothes, limbs, shoes, spunk, spit, mingled. screams, growls, slaps created a cacophony of lust.

i took a photo; sending you the mms, wish you were here...