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Hi, my name is Tom Graham, I am 29, an architect, working out of an office in deepest Clerkenwell in the City of London. With a reasonable knowledge of the French language I get the pleasure of occasional visits to our Paris office, and it was on one of these calls, to interview some new staff, that I met, and slept with, the delectable Lisa Andrews, a stewardess with Virgin Atlantic. If you would like to know more about that experience, please read ‘Atlantic Virgin.’ This story is a continuation, a few months further on.
Friday 5.40 pm
It was a typical drab and rainy November evening in the heart of the city, the winter darkness only broken by the myriad of floodlit tower blocks. The building had emptied and I had switched off the garish overhead fluorescent lights in favour of the interior array of orange desk lamps. My own departure for home was delayed awaiting a phone call from a client who had to approve some drawings in time for the City Planners to consider next week. It was Friday, I was missing my fuck-buddy Lisa and, in common with the last four weeks, I had no date for the coming weekend.
Ever since we had met in the reception of that fully booked hotel in Montmartre back in July and I had offered her the hospitality of my bed, Lisa and I had enjoyed vigorous, albeit somewhat spasmodic, sessions of sex. When she was on leave, or even on a short turn-around, we were inseparable but, being an Anglo-American girl, she was unfortunately US based at Kennedy. Three thousand miles was rather to far to travel for the occasional shag, no matter how good the woman!
As is the case with most relationships based upon sex, the gloss inevitably started to wear off, the stay-overs became more infrequent and only last week she announced that she had accepted a transfer to the Sydney run and I wouldn’t now be seeing her until Christmas, some six weeks hence.
Since we both enjoyed a high sexual drive, she suggested that, due to her schedules, we should share an open relationship and she had even implied that her teenage sister would keep me occupied in her absence. Karen, a nineteen-year-old lingerie model for Harrods, was incredibly slim, tall and sexy and had already made her availability quite obvious at a recent party, only the presence of a jealous Lisa herself had stopped us from leaping drunkenly into bed together that night.
In our last conversation only a couple of days ago, Lisa had hinted that she had a new male interest in Miami so, my own hormones demanding some action, I decided at last to phone her horny sister. I reached for the Post-it stuck to the side of my PC.
“Hi Karen, it’s Tom, how are you?”
“Wow, this is a surprise!”
“Yeah, I thought it was about time I touched base.” I could definitely touch your base I thought to myself. She had the perfect round ass, great for modeling panties, and even better for fondling, and more. Much more. Like the soothing internal touch of a stiff cock! Preferably mine!
She caught my mood immediately, “I guess Lisa is away, huh?”
“What made you think that?”
“Tom, you never phone me.”
“Okay, she’s on long haul again, Australia this time, not back ’til Christmas.”
“And you are missing her?”
“What do you think?”
There was a long silence, then she sighed heavily, “This is very difficult Tom.”
“What do you mean, difficult?”
“It’s obvious why you phoned. It’s the weekend, you’re alone, you’re horny and looking for a date, right?’
“Umm, if you put it like that, yes, I guess so.”
“Shit, shit, fucking shit!” she hissed, more to herself than into the phone.
“Hey, what’s the problem?”
“You’re the fucking problem, Tom, that’s what!”
“Why? What have I done?”
“You’ve known for ages that I fancy you, and now you want to fuck me just when I have a new boyfriend.”
“Who said I want to fuck you?” I asked defensively, the throbbing in my pants conflicting with my words. “Maybe I just wanted a chat?”
“Come on Tom, it’s Friday evening, when everyone wants to go out, get wasted and have sex. My randy sister is away, and you are phoning me. I’m not stupid you know.”
“I didn’t say you were.” I was disappointed and ready to end the conversation. Karen had a reputation as a bit of a prick-tease, and quickly confirmed it.
She giggled, “So you’re looking for some pussy in your bed tonight are you, and you’re sat there with a big stiff hard-on, right?”
I had to laugh at her frankness, “It was until you said no!”
“Oh Tom, if only you had done this a week ago, You know how much I want to have sex with you, and Lisa cleared it with me too, but I happen to have a new date lined up for the weekend.”
She paused, and I wondered if she was about to reconsider. “In fact he was due here an hour ago. Tell you what, if he doesn’t show up, or if it doesn’t work out, can I phone you?”
“Of course you can, you have my number.”
“In the meantime, get out kocaeli escort of that flat, go to a club or something, don’t wait for Lisa. If I know her she will be having her own fun.”
“She just suggested we do our own thing.”
“I know, she told me too. Good for you both, get out there and do yours. Go fuck someone nice.”
“That’s the reason I phoned you!”
“I know, I’m so sorry. Rain check?”
“When did you say my sister is back?”
“Just before Christmas. Why?” I was unprepared for her answer.
“I just wondered what you want for Christmas, that’s all? Apart from shagging the daylights out of my sister!”
“How about shagging the daylights out of you!” I replied, laughing. I heard a bell ring in the background.
“Deal!” she replied, “That will be my date at the door, gotta go sweetie.”
She blew me a kiss and was gone, and I was instantly jealous. Some other lucky bastard was going to get into her pants tonight.
As it happened it would be over a year before I managed to get into those particular pants. Lisa had already informed me that her sister was bisexual and it was this route, with a little help from a later girlfriend called Susan, that I finally had sex with this liberated teenager. The reader can follow that event in Sue’s own account of events in Sex and a Single Girl under Author Title ‘Sue_in_Surrey
But Karen was right, if I wanted some pussy tonight I had to go look for it, and without further deliberation I hit the Net to ascertain which club in town might be suitable for a guy in his late twenties looking for an available chick. I was careful to avoid the teeny-bopping places, this weekend was about satiating my lust with someone my own age. What I didn’t expect was for it to happen quite so quickly, without even going home, dressing up and going back out of the door!
My computer beeped, announcing the arrival of an email. It was a second one from Lisa’s Blackberry. The first, an hour before, I had opened tentatively when no one was looking, Lisa’s messages were always far from clean. The attachment ‘Lisa and plastic friend, read before opening clip,’ suggested no different, so I had waited until all the staff had gone home.
My work companions consisted of three architects, myself being the junior, plus two apprentices. Apart from Beryl, the burly receptionist and source of all knowledge, and in particular everybody’s sexual preferences, the only other female employee was 27-year-old office runabout and previous childhood sweetheart, Rachel Allen.
Her father, Miles Heathcott, ruled over us all with an iron fist from the depths of a glass box off the end of the main office. I had known Rachel from the age of four when her family moved in across the road, and it was her persistence with her father that had got me this job two years ago. She had also been a great shoulder when my marriage recently failed. At this moment in time the Company, Shawfields of Clerkenwell, was in financial difficulties and well into negotiations to merge with a developing consortium in nearby Holborn, owned by Rachel’s father-in-law, Arthur Allen.
I saved the latest mail enticingly entitled ‘So did you cum darling?’ and settled down to read the first one in total privacy. Or so I thought!
“Hello Tom darling, are you horny today? I am, I so wish you were here to fuck me with that lovely fat cock. This is worse than being alone in NY, the Aussie guys are so full of shit, I couldn’t fancy one if he was the last man on earth. But, good news! The girls here in Sydney are totally different, and they really are just like Kylie! I have only been here half a day and two have come on to me already! Very sexy too. Do you think they know something I don’t?”
In Paris, Lisa had admitted she’d had more than a passing interest in other women but, despite the approaches of the hotel receptionist, had not yet acted upon it. For ethical reasons she was insistent she wouldn’t accept any of the approaches by the other stewardesses, apparently there is a high concentration of active bisexuality amongst aircrew, and not as one would expect, restricted to just the male fraternity.
Her message continued, “It’s two in the morning here darling and I can hear a couple screwing in the next room! Remember Paris? That newly-wed couple? Remember how we laid together that first night, each touching ourselves and too proud to make the first move? That was my all-time favourite fuck, do you know that? I am so wet, I need you with me here now, to listen to them fuck, and fuck with them, just like we did that night. Tom darling, I am getting so horny being away from you for so long.
“Remember what we talked about the other day? Would you really mind if I did actually find someone and had sex with him? We did agree didn’t we? It would only be meaningless sex, nothing more. And it will make me feel good if you go screw a girl Tom, I don’t even mind if it’s my little sister, we both know she has the hots for you. I don’t expect kocaeli escort bayan you to wait this long for me, after all we are only human.”
By now my cock had stirred back to life and was requesting urgent attention. Wishing she had made that suggestion a week earlier, I would by now be heading for Karen’s apartment, armed with condoms, and to hell with the phone call I was waiting on. I hadn’t had sex with a teenage girl since I was a teen myself. Damn I thought, giving my erection a consolation squeeze. But Lisa hadn’t finished.
“Tom? Do you remember Margitte, that receptionist in Paris? Silly me, of course you do, we both had the hots for her didn’t we! It would have been a helluva turn on to watch you fuck her. Well, guess what? She’s invited me to her apartment in Saint Germain next time I’m in Paris. As if I’m ever there, ha ha! But even so, it would be a start, what do you think? I masturbated myself to sleep last night thinking of her. And you of course,” she had quickly added.
The thought of Lisa’s head between that sexy Parisian’s legs is well documented elsewhere and had been the subject of many an erotic connection between us following that moment when Lisa, on our last night in Paris, had rejected her advances in preference for getting impaled on my cock. And, talking about that particular organ, it was now fighting its way out of its boxer prison, assisted of course by myself, and currently taking more and more interest in the proceedings, particularly as she rounded off her epistle.
“Tom, I am getting hornier by the minute, Are you alone? I hope you are and that your cock is nice and stiff for me. I am so fucking wet and seeing you are not here to fuck me, and it’s too late in the night to find a nice cock, there is something I have to do. So don’t go away, open the attached movie and you can see what it is. I was dreaming of us back in Paris, with that couple at it in the next room. I’ll email you again when you have ‘finished’ xxx L!”
I did go away, but only far enough to extinguish all the remaining desk lamps bar my own, I didn’t want even the shadows to see what she had concocted for me watch.
Fully releasing my eager cock in anticipation, I opened the attached QuickTime movie. It was much as I expected, Lisa was lying on a hotel bed, plunging a vibrator rapidly in and out of her glistening pussy. She had set her pocket camera to movie mode, somehow wedging it on a chair, but close enough for me to hear the erotic sound track. My cock now rock hard, I started to masturbate in time with her own movements, some early moisture leaking from the head.
I had to lean close to the little speaker to hear her call out in her Boston accent, “Are you jacking off with me darling? I know how much you like to watch me play with my wet pussy. See how fucking wet I am?” She plunged the glistening purple plastic deep inside her soaking wet hole.
“Damn fucking right I’m wanking,” I mouthed back at the screen.
Lisa pointed to the wall behind her, “The girl in the next room has just cum, and I think I want to now. Look how ready my cunt is, honey.”
She held apart her pink lips, and moved closer to the camera, the tunnel she had created with the vibrator streaming with the juices I could almost taste from the other side of the planet. We rarely used the word ‘cunt’ together so I guessed how turned on she must be. Lisa proved the point when she plunged the toy fully back inside and screamed out.
“I’m gonna fucking cum Tom, please fuck my cunt!”
This girl was truly on heat, I had never seen her as randy as this. It was hard to believe she could be hornier with a vibrator than with my own cock.
“Cum with me honey, rub that lovely cock.”
I needed no invitation as I watched her discard the vibrator and for a couple of minutes plunge two fingers rapidly in and out of her soaking pussy hole, until finally her hips rose in the air and she let out the screech I knew so well. Staring at the camera she lewdly put her hand to her mouth and sucked the juices from her fingers. My own orgasm was close, but not close enough to time it with hers, so I hit the replay button and started again, and this time her orgasm would have even more impact, and I was ready to time my own with hers. Reaching for the tissues I was seconds away from cumming when I heard a sound and I froze, the pre-cum dribbling freely from my cock on to the floor.
I paused the movie and searched in the drawer for my Mini-Maglite, no way in my state was I putting on any office lights! I waved the torch around the room and immediately two twin green lights flashed back at me, then disappeared. I breathed a sigh of relief, the Company cat! Or rather the feline that belonged to next door and we allowed it to mouse hunt on our premises. I grinned to myself thinking that could well be the closest I was getting to any pussy this weekend. If I had been right, then this story would never have got written.
Anxious to complete kocaeli escort the job in hand, so to speak, I returned to my desk. On the paused movie, Lisa’s face was frozen in ecstasy, the vibrator almost out of sight inside her fuck-hole. Deciding to save my cum, I curiously opened the second email, while pouring myself a generous shot of Scotch from my secret supply. I re-lit a joint I had rolled earlier. Orgasms are always better after a hit.
“Did you enjoy that darling? I thought of you while I did that. Did you cum too? Did you shoot your lovely cream right up your chest?” I lifted my shirt front, I was ready to do just that, the way I felt I might just reach my chin!
I read on while I stroked slowly, “I wish I was there to lick it up for you my darling. I have something else for you, you remember me saying that some Aussie girls had chatted me up? Then look at this picture.”
I opened the file, and there between Lisa’s open thighs was the blonde head of an equally naked woman and she herself was clutching the end of a black vibrator which was fully embedded in her own hairy pussy. My balls twitched and my cock lurched when I realised Lisa had gone ahead and done it, at last she had fucked another woman. I checked the photo credits, it was taken two weeks ago, she had managed to keep it secret that long. In my aroused state it didn’t cross my mind to wonder why this too had not been a movie, but I started to print out the image, fully intending to plaster my cum over that blonde girls ass, imagining her tongue deep in Lisa’s tight cunt while I was shagging her from behind.
Then came the moment that would alter my whole weekend, and in fact the next few months.
As I stood up to open the printer cover, my cock waving lewdly in the air, I was suddenly aware of a momentary glow of light behind me, as if a door was being opened and closed. Hastily I put the computer to sleep and, my hand concealing my erection, crossed to the other side of the room where I could now see a strip of light shining beneath the kitchen door, which wasn’t completely closed.
Puzzled, and tucking my swollen appendage safely back in my pants, I crept towards the opening, and peered through the slit, but could see only a blank wall inside. I had observed everyone depart for the weekend, and they had all said goodnight, even Rachel with her routine kiss on the cheek. We were the perfect friends and had never taken our relationship beyond the current platonic level. Although I had always secretly fancied her, and I suspected the reverse was also true, it so happened that while she was single I was briefly married, and when I was available she was sleeping with somebody else, the last being a lout called Kevin, who she had regrettably married in haste last year.
I concluded that whoever was in the kitchen had to be an intruder and, having armed myself to the teeth with the nearest 12-inch plastic scale-rule, I put my ear to the door, but could detect only the rumble of the heating boiler.
Full of bravado assisted by the shot of Scotch, I put my shoulder to the door and crouched down FBI style. What is not shown in the movies is the door hitting the stops and rebounding into the agent’s head! In the brief instant before concussion I spotted the familiar figure of a female leaning with her back to me against the worktop. As the reader will have guessed, it was Rachel, and I sensed in that instant that she was crying.
As the dizziness cleared, I found myself sat on the floor with my back to the offending door with a glass of water at my lips and a warm feminine hand holding the back of my head.
“Tom, are you okay sweetie? Whatever were you trying to do?”
Apart from the fact that I now had a date with a humdinger of a headache and my comb would have a new contour to explore on my skull, I was definitely okay. Who wouldn’t be with Rachel squatting in front of you, her skirt ridden back high over her thighs, the delicious white covered vee of her crotch in plain view? And the garment wasn’t uniformly covering her pussy, as though it had been pulled up in haste! She caught my glance and stuffed her skirt between her thighs, her concerned look quickly evaporating.
“Obviously not much wrong with you!”
For some unfathomable reason, Rachel at that moment looked extremely vulnerable, her long curly dark blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her dancing grey eyes swimming with moisture. I always suggested to her that she resembled a young Meg Ryan but she couldn’t see it. She had the same generous breasts and hips but separated by a trimmer waist than the actress. Many male seeds were spilt on dark lonely nights visualising her body naked in my bed instead of in that of one of her many boyfriends. At that moment I reminded myself I was still without a date.
A little dizzy, I found a seat and brought my mind back to the present.
“I thought you were a burglar.”
She looked down at my hand which was still wielding the ruler, and grinned, “Do you always size them up first then?”
Suddenly I realised that my loose boxers were doing little to hide my remaining hard-on. She couldn’t have failed to notice it, and for once I didn’t really care. As events were about to unfold, it didn’t really matter that much.
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