.
VR
Angelus's Journal


Angelus's Journal

THIS JOURNAL IS ON 297 FAVORITE JOURNAL LISTS

Honor: 0    [ Give / Take ]

PROFILE




5 entries this month
 

Lady For The Night

22:31 Jul 27 2009
Times Read: 1,121


*Suggested for mature readers.









The night is dark and the cinema was closed about twenty minutes ago and I'm cold and it's raining.

There’s a pane of perspex missing from the bus shelter and the rain is coming in.

I'm sure that I've missed the last bus home ... so I start hitching, thinking to myself,

'Surely on a night like this someone will stop and give me a lift?'

Yet, no-one does stop and I'm getting colder and colder and the rain is showing no signs of letting up,

so I cup my hands together, light a smoke and start watching the cars go by, counting them as they do:

One, male with a 'tache; two, a young couple; three, an elderly man, wearing a cap; four, an attractive

blonde, in a light grey Escort; five, a young couple, she is driving; six, a nun; seven, a coloured couple;

eight, a van, with two young men up front; nine, is a couple in their late fifties, in a VW Beetle; then an

attractive blonde, in her thirties, who is driving a light grey Escort...

'But,' I find myself thinking, ' didn't that pass me before?'

Another twelve cars pass me, then the Escort passes me once more and this time I am aware that the blonde is looking at me.

I count a further seven cars passing me then the Escort stops, virtually in front of me and the nearside

passenger-door opens outward and the blonde leans toward me. She is wearing a white blouse and a black skirt that ends two inches above the knees. "Hi," she says, then asks,. "do you want a lift someplace?"

I answer by I nodding dumbly, for I find that I cannot tear my eyes away from her shapely legs.

"Well then," she continues, swiftly appraising the young man looking at her and sees someone in their early thirties, tall, with fair hair and sporting a slight 'tache, "why don't you get in and dry?"

So, I enter the car and sit, still not able to draw my eyes away from her stocking-clad legs.

I gaze downward following the contours of those exquisite legs, admiring the shape of the thighs and calves, finding myself beginning to wonder how she can possibly drive in a pair of black heels that are

so divinely high.

"Do you like them?" the question pulls me from my musings on the beauty of her legs and I have to be asked again before I answer 'yes,' quietly and she smiles, as if in response to a private joke.

Starting the cars engine, the blonde looks in the mirrors, smoothes her hair down at the left side, then turns her head a little toward me: "Do you think my legs are very feminine? Very attractive?" I am asked, to which I gasp a little in embarrassment, as my manhood begins to stir.

"Oh yes," I tell her, "I think that they're lovely."

"You really think so?" I am asked and I nod.

The air is charged and I feel heady as she says to me, " If you could, would you like to see more than you do now?" There is a smile on the blondes face and all I can do is mutter 'yes' with my dry mouth.

"Well," she says, mischievously, "you never know what may happen in this life. True?"

And all that I can do is nod dumbly again, the rain and the dampness of my clothes forgotten as I watch her legs moving, as she engages the clutch, brake and accelerator; her left hand, whilst free from driving, plays with the hem of her skirt and the darker band at the top of her stocking is slowly exposed, inch by inch, to my hungry eyes.

She drives fast, taking risks on roads that she obviously knows well and I rapidly find myself admiring her driving skills, as she tackles the oily surface of the dock road.

The blonde negotiates the road, her eyes fixed ahead, constantly alert, as we face the busy traffic ahead of us and I take the opportunity to look at her once more: she seems to be in her late thirties, as I had presumed earlier and hardly needs the little make-up that she wears. Although what make-up she does wear, she wears well, serving to define her prominent cheek-bones, eye-brows, almond-shaped eyes and her full lips. Her blonde hair is worn in a loose shaggy, shoulder length cut, which leaves much of the driver’s long, slender neck exposed ...











"Well," she says, looking at me from the corner of her eye, "at least someone seems to like me tonight." There seems to be a hint of sadness to the tone of the blonde’s voice, so I tell her with enthusiasm,

"I think you look very pretty," then add, "and the names Kevin. It's nice to meetcha."

"Why thank you kind sir," the driver says, turning to flash me a really bright smile, that fades as she turns her attention wholly to the road ahead, saying distantly, "It's just a pity others weren't so nice...."

"After you've said that, I've got to ask..." I begin and she stops me, saying to me, "A fella, I got all dressed up for him, as he wants. And then, the rat doesn't even turn up. Hell, I even drove round looking for him..."

"And?" I prompt, after several seconds of a very uncomfortable silence.

"And I saw you, Kevin ... and I thought you needed a lift." She turns to face me for a few seconds, flashing that bright smile again, saying to me, "well, I'm Toni, its short for Antoinette."

Still smiling, she turns her eyes back to the road and says, "So, the question is, where do you want to go?"

Her left hand sits gently on my knee a moment, before moving, to rest on my thigh, as she says to me, "Because it does seem that I've got plenty of free time, so where to?"

"I don't want to go home yet," I tell her and add quickly, "it's too early to go home... S'pose I want to go with the flow and see where it takes me."

Her hand has now reached the inside of my thigh, "So tell me," she says, pulling the car into the kerb and stopping; "Just what do you mean by that?"

"Well," I begin, "I mean ... I mean that ... I don't want to go home yet."

"Go on ... and... ?" the blonde asks, as fingers press gently on my right inner thigh and I gulp a little, before somewhat nervously asking her, " and ... well, you do want company, don't you?"

Her voice distant, the driver replies, almost to herself, "Yes, I suppose I do," as the rain falls outside and the blonde, Toni, turns round in her seat and smiling, says to me decisively, "Okay Kevin, where to ?"

I look at her legs, the hand resting between both my thighs and I look into the blonde’s eyes before saying,

"How about Southport?"

"S'okay," she says and turns the ignition on, looks into the rear view mirror and steers the car into traffic once more, before continuing speaking, "Southport it is."



Toni turns turns the car onto New Chester Road and guns the engine once she passes the tunnel toll on the Birkenhead side of the Mersey Tunnel. And as we drive through I find that my heart is pounding:

‘What next?’ I wonder to myself, as the blonde manoeuvres the car back into the main stream of traffic on the Liverpool side of the Mersey Tunnel where we follow the road signs to Southport.

Smiling, Toni drives, eyes alert for somewhere we can stop, until once at our destination, the blonde takes the coast road and drives us toward the sand dunes, where she parks the car, away from the hustle and bustle of the traffic and where we can be alone to 'talk.'

The rain has stopped and the sky has cleared and in the half light, created by a full, silvery moon, set midst a cloudless sky, I sit and look into the blondes face.

"Well, do you think we'll be able to get out of here?" she says, turning off the cars ignition and turning towards me with a smile on her face, to which I ask, "Well, if not, do you snore?"

Giggling at my remark and carressing my face with gentle fingers, the blonde continues talking, "I liked Peter, it's just a pity that he didn't turn up tonight ..." Now, the blonde, Toni, leans toward me and kisses gently on my throat and cheeks, with small butterfly kisses, before her lips alight on my mouth with a sweet, soft wetness and I am surprised when she pulls away from my arms and holding by the shoulders,

says to me, "You know Kevin ... he treated me nice, like a real lady ... and I ... " obviously lost in thought, she pauses a moment, "...I loved it."

The atmosphere inside the car is tense, almost electric as I place my right hand hesitantly on the blondes stocking-clad flesh, excited to be doing so. I stare into her eyes, impassioned as I am by the moment, as my fingers just touch the bare flesh at the top at the top of her stocking: "Toni?" I ask, "Are you sure about this ... do you want to?"











The driver ignores my question and smiles at me asking, "Do you want some music on Kevin?"

And intent on the blonde’s thigh and the warmth of her flesh, I simply say, "Yeah sure, be my guest."

Toni leans across me, brushing her firm breasts against my chest, as she slides a cassette into the tape player and as the sound of Lionel Ritchie fills the car she undoes the zip in my trousers and takes my cock out, all in one fluid motion. With one hand round the base of my stiffening member, the blonde pressses her body against me as she works the lever at the side of my seat and both it and us recline.

With eyes asparkle, Toni draws my shaft into her warm moistness, as I lie back with my eyes closed and groan with pleasure, reaching upward to stroke and caress one breast, then the other. As I slowly undo and remove the blouse that she wears and Toni pumps her mouth upon my little friend, as if she is fucking him, orally, with long, deliberate strokes.

Abruptly she sits upright, relaxes into the drivers seat, wiping at my pre-cum, that smears her chin,

with the back of a wrist, "Mmmm ... " she says smiling " if it tastes like honey ... then take it with a smile."

And moonlight shines upon Southport beach , as Toni looks at me, as I reach forward a hand and take her erect right nipple lightly between finger and thumb, to fix my hungry mouth upon the blood-engorged teat. With my mouth busy, as I suckle on a lovely cherry, on a perfect tit, I lean across Toni and work the lever that reclines her seat ...

"Maybe you should know ... ? " I’m told as the blonde pushes me back, into my own seat, where I sit, feeling somewhat confused.

"What?" I ask, adding anxiously, "Are you ... okay?"

Toni smiles at my question, her eyes following the direction I am staring, as I look at the blondes breasts. "Oh, I'm fine ...." the blonde says to me, as she takes my right hand in her slender, well-manicured hands and guides it to the warm expanse of flesh at the top of her stockings.

As my hand sits at the top of the blondes thighs we look into one another’s eyes and Toni tells me,

"Now be gentle and feel me ... "

I bunch up the base of her skirt as I move a couple fingers beneath the elastic of the cotton panties that Toni wears, with my every movement deliberately slow as I revel in the barely repressed sexual tension in the air between the blonde and myself.

When I encounter a bulge, where I wouldn't normally expect to find one on a woman I freeze momentarily, "But ... " I mutter, staring at the cock.

"Now c'mon Kevin," the blonde sooths, "I asked you if you liked what you saw before, now didn't I?"

And I nod as Toni continues talking, "...well, this is you and I, the here and now ... So tell me, do you still like what you see?" I smile, nodding dumbly and Toni says to me, "C'mon, take off my knickers and ... why don't you ... be nice to me? Hmmm ... ?"

So I remove the blondes white, cotton panties slowly, until I encounter the semi-erect, uncut cock

nestling between the drivers thighs and taking hold of the penis gently in both hands I tell Toni,

to 'her' cock, "I want you ... "

As I bunch the skirt up high, Toni parts 'her' legs, as I lower my face toward the blondes hardening

cock. I draw back the skin from the cock-head I lick at the little bead of pre-cum that I find, tentatively

at first, until I decide that I like the taste and that it reminds me of oysters ... and I run my tongue over

the skin of the she-males cock, finally encompassing the whole of it, fully in my mouth.

I look up for a moment and note Toni, relaxing into 'her' seat, with eyes closed and lips just ever so slightly parted. I swirl my tongue up and down the flesh of the slim cock, before taking it fully into my mouth once again, now positively relishing in it's ever so slightly salty taste.

Sealing my mouth around the hard cock, I begin a slow, soft pumping movement that has the blonde lifting 'her' hips up to meet my face, sighing with pleasure as I grasp at Toni's buttocks, lathering at the hard cock-flesh with my tongue and lips.

"Oh, that’s good ... " the driver moans, running long, slender fingers through my hair, "so, so good."

As I delight in being able to take the penis in my mouth I find the blondes puckered anus with the middle finger of my left hand and I suck at the finger-tip, moistening it, before returning to give Toni more oral.

I ease the tip of the finger just inside the blonde and the asshole opens easily as I push my finger inside

slowly, feeling every contour of my lover.

Entering further I feel 'her' pushing against my intrusion, in time with the pumping movement I have on the throbbing cock in my eager mouth and I love the mewls of pleasure that issue from the blonde, as I work to give pleasure with my oral attentions.

"Please stop," the she-male asks of me abruptly and I slowly pull my finger out of the blondes asshole, very aware of the anal muscles around my finger closing together as I withdraw the digit.

"Hold me," Toni gasps, trembling in my arms and holding me very tightly, runs eager hands over my manhood. "I want you ... " I am told by Toni, breathing closely to my left ear, "Please tell me that you want me too ... please?" Toni says, kissing at my earlobe and suckling on it's flesh, "I want you to want me ... tell me, do you?"

And the blonde and I look deep into one another’s eyes, as moonlight fills the night sky and the passion in the air between us is almost tangible. So we embrace and kiss, open-mouthed ... until finally, breathless, we part and I sit erect in my seat, my right hand still fisted around the base of the throbbing, saliva soaked cock.

We stare into one another’s eyes still, the taste of 'her' on my lips and I tell Toni, "I do want you ..."

"Well Kevin," Toni says, "you've shown me that you can suck ... " and smiling adds, "you know what I want now?"

I reply, "No," then add, "so tell me, what do you want now?" Toni strokes at my face and smiles, "It's nice of you to ask, kind sir ... " pauses a moment, then says, slowly, "I want ... you to make love to me ..." and resting a hand on my face, Toni says softly, "Please, let me ... be ... your lady for the night. Yes?"

And I smile at Toni and as we kiss the blonde undoes my shirt buttons and toys with my erect nipples, asking, "You do, don't you?"

And I smile again at Toni, who stares straight into my eyes and says to me, slowly, very seductively,

"And if you treat me like a woman, then I'll take it like a man."

We both smile at the remark and hold each other tight, as I whisper, "I want you," again and again.

Toni has hold of my hard circumcised cock, in long slender, well-manicured fingers and I lie back into my seat, as the slim blonde crouches over my lower half and soft lips envelop my manhood once more.

As I look down, I can hear and feel the blonde sucking on me, until, finally Toni seems satisfied that I am moist enough for entrance, wriggles out of the skirt, now pushed almost to the waist and draws 'her' legs up and wide, so as to provide ready access ...

I take Toni in my arms, as my lover throws long stocking-clad legs over my shoulders and eager fingers grasp at me ... and I part the blondes buttocks, my cock-head poised at the entrance of the tiny orifice that the she-male pushes toward me ... but my entrance seems impossible.

"No," I am told, "not like that then ... " Toni says, parting from me and sits back into the drivers seat, facing me. The blonde spreads those shapely legs, placing one high heel on the dashboard, whilst the other is rested on my chairs back ... as Toni watches me. I lie back in my seat and gaze as the blonde opens 'her' mouth a little and with the tip of the tongue, licks a forefinger and gently moistens the skin around the anus. And with eyes still on mine, Toni eases the tip of the forefinger inside and with fluttering eye-lids, follows this with two fingers ... that enter the asshole, very slowly ...

The blondes eyes are closed now, lips moist and mouth barely open, a low sigh escapes those lips ... and now, with wide, lust impassioned eyes, Toni hisses at me, "Fuck me ..." and takes hold of my hard self and straddles me ...

She is lithe of limb, my woman, as stocking-clad legs hold me tight ... and I enter the asshole fully, staring at the blondes incredibly feminine face, as my lower belly is met by the tight ball sac and uncut cock, as Toni rises and falls, 'her' ass impaled by my hard self.

The blonde rides me, head thrown back and mouth open, moans of pleasure issuing from 'her' mouth, as I reach up and cup a pert, budding breast in each hand, gently thumbing at the nipples ...

"I want it ..." the blonde cries out and I smile, rapt with intense pleasure, as the she-male grinds 'her' buttocks down upon me, until I can penetrate no further.

I am embedded deep inside the blonde, who sits still a moment and looks down at me strokes my chest, saying to me, "This is what I wanted, a man inside me, shafting me. Then coming inside, filling me up."

And as Toni toy's with my erect nipples, slowly rotating 'her' buttocks upon my erect cock, the blonde adds, " Let me be your lady and fuck me ... "

The words serve to inflame me further still, as I hold the she-males hips and pump upward, with my climax and my desire to shoot my cum rising within me.

Toni cries out, "... don't stop."

I grasp the blonde’s shoulders, ramming my cock hard into my lover, in an effort to cum deep inside that warm receptive hole, the inner muscles clenching against my cock. A powerful orgasm sweeps through me as I climax, with a loud roar of exultation, shooting my load in pulsing jets, until finally I am left, sweating, feeling both drained and very satisfied ...

As I lie back in my seat, Toni leans close to, nipples grazing mine and kisses at my neck and shoulders, saying to me, "I'll be your lady ... whenever you want ... " and my lover kisses at my neck again and says softly into my ear, " ... whenever."

Looking at Toni, exhausted by our frenetic coupling I stroke the blondes face, as the sun finally sets and reply, " You did just say ... whenever ?"







- Fini -





* * *


COMMENTS

-



RaineyLustfulBites
RaineyLustfulBites
21:19 Jul 28 2009

I am sorry loves I like it a lot but the part where the guy found it he was with another male who he thought was a woman was just too funny to me

really good though I enjoy reading it as always





 

Noontime rising.

00:39 Jul 22 2009
Times Read: 1,133


* Suggested for more mature readers.





~ * ~





Lying back eyes closed I caress my body, beginning with my nipples, which harden quickly, beneath my avid fingers.



I take each between forefinger and thumb and then, pinch; and, pinch hard, enjoying the pain the soars through my body, right down to my groin; and then spreads out as a sweet sensation of sheer exquisite pleasure.



But, I ignore the obvious, as I wait for him, choosing to slide the lubed middle and fore-finger of my right hand downward, to my eager love-tunnel.



And, I moan with pleasure, as I simulate what I hope will soon happen.



After all, I have the outfit chosen: and, in just half an hour the folks will be out.



I was more than a little expectant and, as the hands on the clock neared twelve, I’d finished dressing then pulled on my terry-towel robe, to cover the outfit from anyone looking in, as I answered the door, to my guest: if he arrived.



Originally it had been a standing invitation, “Call round, on a Saturday about noon and, I’ll get down on my knees for you, to take all you’ve got.”



I’d said it when I’d been lucky enough to see a photo of it, the one of his pride and joy: beautiful it had looked an all.



That proud erection had held me captivated, for several minutes, when I’d opened the email he’d sent.



And, after not hearing from him again, I’d figured John was just teasing, as he’d experimented with his sexuality.



Then, just last night he had phoned, “Is twelve still okay?”



It had been a simple question, with so much implied.



I mean, maybe the fact that he’d made some sort of decision, as to his needs. Or, maybe he was just teasing me? It was possible.



An, if I said ‘yes,’ he’d know I was still on offer.



For long seconds, I’d contemplated what I’d had to say. Then when that decision had been made, the next had been ‘what to wear?’



Yet that decision had been somewhat easier to make though: a full slip, short pleated, red and black tartan skirt, over thigh-high cut lilac panties and tucked into a white shirt I particularly liked, well-sharp, with button-down collars.



With this I’d chosen to wear tights, as they made my legs look so-so good and now, as the seconds tick by, I’m becoming even more eager than I was a short hour ago.



And, impatient as I am, I can’t help but prowl the house, eventually going through to the kitchen and turning the kettle on.



It’s as I’m standing there, my nylon-clad feet on the linoleum, waiting for the kettle to boil that I notice the time, as there’s a knock on the door: twelve-Oh-two.



Only two minutes late!



I try to slow my breathing down, as I run to the front door, knowing I have to slow down. I just can’t help it. I am anxious, too see him and feel him, deep inside me.



“Hi!” I exclaim, thankful that when I open the door, it is John. And, he’s smiling.



“Okay to come in?” He asks.



“Oh Gawd,” I mumble, standing aside so he can pass me and enter the hall, passing close by me, very close by me: “Yeah sure. Sorry.”



He enters and sits on one of the two bench seats either side of the kitchen tacle, the one nearest the sliding door to the hall. And, he smiles, looking at my legs.



“Tights, or stockings?” He asks. It’s a reasonable question.



“Tights,” I answer, as I pour us each a coffee, which I place on a tray.



“Are you coming through to my room, to play?” I enquire, with a light smile on my face.



“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Is his answer, as he stands, to follow me through the hall, then lounge and through to my small room.



I’m ready, already. I just don’t know whether he wants me, as I much as I want him.

Though, as I sit the tray down and I look to the lustful face on him, I realise that any doubts that I may have had are groundless: he wants me.



“Sit down, please?” I say to him, indicating the bed. The bed, where I hope he’ll take me and use me, all with my express permission.



John does as I’ve asked, his eyes glued to my legs.



“Take the robe off,” John says to me, as I make to pick up his mug of coffee, to pass to him.



I pause theatrically, with my back to him. And, I can’t help but smile, as I realise a long held fantasy would soon come to pass: and, I will service him, as he wants.



So, I unfasten the belt, drop the robe, then pick up the mug and turning to my young prospective lover, I tell him: “There’s a spliff in the tin over there.”



My Yin-Yang tin, sitting on the locker by my bed held three spliff’s inside, one for before and, two for afterward, if thing’s went well. And, if they didn’t work out, as I’d wanted, they’d be enough to compensate for my disappointment.



Aye, I’d thought ahead.



“Alright,” he says with a grin, as he picks up the doobie and puts it to his lip, as I kneel at his feet.



He inhales deeply and, hardly cough’s at all, as he pass the joint to me.



He exhales, as I begin to ‘toke hard myself, staring at him, in kinda adoration.



“I’ve been horny for day’s thinking about this,” he tells me, to my delight.



I cough.



“You know I want this as well,” I say with a smile, as I pass the smoke back to him.



And, as he takes it from me, our fingers touch and, I can’t help it: even that brief touch has me in a paroxysm of ecstasy. Oh Gawd, how I long to feel him inside me.



He grins. And, momentarily I wonder if he’s aware how much I want him, as he draws on the spliff, taking a good lungful, of that sweet acrid, blue-grey smoke.



He exhales slowly, passing the joint to me, with a shaky hand.

“Nice smoke,” he mutters.



I stare at young John, as I finish the joint, all the time staring at him, aware that soon one of us will have to make a move. Otherwise my folks will arrive home, to find me dressed, to please this young buck. And, that won’t go down well, at all.



“Stand up and do me a twirl,” he instructs me, as I grind the roach into a small ball in the ashtray.



I do as instructed, of course.



“Lift your skirt up!” He says, with a face on him, of pure lechery.

It seems he does know what he wants: and, maybe, just maybe, those last two smokes will be congratulatory ones? I can but hope.



I grasp the hem in both hands high and lift the skirt higher, to show a little lilac, beneath my sheer tan tights.



“Turn round,” he says.



And again, I do as instructed, well aware that time is moving on. I want to do as he says. But more, much more than that, I want him inside me: and ideally before my folks get back from their meal out.



With my back to him and my buttocks on display, I ask: “Can we? Please?”

He knows, he must know. He has to know we’re running short on time.



“Please what?” John asks, teasingly. He knows what I want. It just seems he wants to hear me say it. Well, why not?



“John, will you let me get on bed and on my back and raise my skirt, ease down my panties and will you slide your hard length inside me?” I question him, in calm measured tones.



Yes, I am anxious. And yes, time is moving on. But I do know what I want.



“I want you now,” I tell young John as I turn to face him.



“I know,” he responds with a smile, as he stands and eases his tight light blue jeans down his thighs, then his tight white Calvin Klein’s, revealing his proud eight or so inches of cut, thick manhood.



As John finishes undressing the necessary, I lie back. Drawing up my legs, I pull my skirt up then ease my tights and panties up to my knees.



I grasp behind my thighs and pull my knees toward me. Now he can see where I want him. And, young John gets on the bed between my legs.



John leans forward with his taut belly against the other side of the tights crotch from my face.



Though I know he doesn’t want the affection, I want to look into his eyes as he fucks me and soon I am on my back, ankles draped over his shoulders my tights and panties in my face, my knees either side of my ears.



The plum head of his erection presses against my well-lubed sphincter and, slowly he eased in me, eliciting a long moan from me.



It’s what I’d been fantasizing of, for so long. And, its length was just as the picture had shown, opening me up as he pressed forward, widening me further.



Placing his hands on my thighs for purchase, he eases into me, opening me up slowly.



“Oh yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “so tight, so damned tight.”

“Don’t you like it?” I ask, clutching at his lower arms, as he seems to fill me more and more, with that hard, hot flesh.



The sound of the slapping of flesh fills the room, otherwise quiet room, as his thighs smacks against the back of my thighs and buttocks.



My lower back is starting to ache, so lowering my legs, I drape then over this thighs and wrapping them over his backside, try to pull him into me.



And as slowly as he entered, John draws out of me, leaving me empty and quite disappointed. And all of a sudden, he plunges deep back inside me, filling me once again.



I toss my head, bucking beneath him, as he drives forward.



I can’t help but tighten around him and John groans with pleasure.

“Fuckin ‘ell, that’s good,” he tells me with a grin, “can you do that again?”



And with each slow withdrawal I tighten my inner muscles; so that as he re-enters me, I’m nice and tight, for his pleasure.



Yet, all too soon for me, his hold on my hips tightens and he thrust faster and faster.



His face contorts as he frowns and groans, as his speed increases: and, I can’t keep up with him now, not since he began rabbit humping my ass. And, I love it. I love that I’m here on my back dressed en femme, as my young lover increases his speed.



John’s grip tightens on me; his breathing gets faster and I can feel it, as his erection throbs inside me, as he shoots his seed into my rectum.



“Oh yes,” he hisses, “so nice.”



I slump beneath him, all tension suddenly left from my body.



John doesn’t move, just loosens his hold on me a little, as he closes his eyes and breathing slower, sweat dripping from his forehead.



“You’re a good fuck,” he tells me and I smile up as him, as he slowly slides out of me, leaving his seed to trickle out of me.



“I kind of regret not taking up you accept your invitation earlier.” He adds, slowly stroking my face.



And, though I know he’s not really into it, I sit up and kiss his lips softly.



He doesn’t stiffen up and accepts my kiss.



Taking hold of his wilted manhood, I look into his eyes.



“It needs cleaning,” I say to him with a grin and lick my lips.







COMMENTS

-



 

Philharmonic Encounter

00:10 Jul 07 2009
Times Read: 1,146


*Suggested for Adults only







Philharmonic Encounter





We came out of the main doors during intermission at exactly the same time, just two amongst a small crowd of smokers.

I had opened my tobacco tin lid as I brought it into my hand.



Then I reached in my pocket with my left hand and pulled out a one-skin roll, which I put to my lips.

I’d noticed him from the side of my eye amongst the crowd, his eyes darting back and forth; he was a slim, blonde with cat-green eyes.



His style was very 80’s, very ‘Midnight Cowboy’ just without the hat.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of B & H, then a cigarette, which he put to his lips.



I caught what he was doing as I put the tin lid back on.

Our eyes met as we both began frantically searching our pockets, for a lighter.

His grin was infectious, as he found his lighter first. Then I’d found mine.



Yet as he flicked the wheel on his and nothing happened. So, I’d tried mine.

It’d fired up and I’d won.



Once more, our eyes met, as he nodded; kind of an acknowledgement sort of thing.

I lit my smoke, then held kept the flame going and extended my reach a little, cupping my hand round it, shielding it.



Passing by the couple nearest to me, he stepped forward.

“Want a light?” I asked.



“Yes please,” he replied, as he leant forward and cupped his hands round mine.

As he lit his cigarette, he looked up and into my eyes, his right forefinger caressing the back of my left hand.



He stood up, his hand still on mine, the cigarette in his left hand, as he inhaled.

“Nice,” he said, exhaling slowly.

“Yes,” I muttered aloud, thinking of how nice it was to have his finger stroke my skin.

“My names Alan,” he said with a grin, as he evidently noticed my discomfort.



Fact was, I was interested.

“And, mines Toby,” I told him quickly.

“What do you think of the play, Toby?” He asked.

What to say? Was he the playwright? A friend of theirs??



The truth.



“I hate it…” I answered, after my deliberation.

“Why?” He queried.

“Too much talking, not enough happening,” I responded.

“Hah!” He exclaimed, “Is that a hint?”



I blushed. Couldn’t help it.



And, I’d really grown accustomed to his touch: I liked it and wanted more.

“Are you on your own?” I asked, hopefully.

“Nah,” he answered, “but, if you wait out here five minutes, I’ll ditch my mates and go somewhere. Less talk, more action. How’s that sound?”



How did it sound? It sounded marvellous.



“I’ll be here,” I assured him, missing him already, as he moved back into The Philarmonic, with the rest of the crowd, so as to be ready for the second half.

As it was, it looked like I might be having a private show of my own.

That sounded scary, but good.



I’d only been with three guy’s before meeting him. Most of my experience was with women, and older women at that. Just sometimes, that need took over.

This was one of those times.

I lit another cigarette and began counting seconds, till finally I heard his voice.



“Hi, I’m glad you waited!” He said with a smile, running down the steps from the theatre to meet me.

“And, I’m glad you ditched your folks…” I said in turn.

He grinned, slipped his left arm round my waist.



“So, where to, loverboy?”

‘Loverboy?’ I began to get hard, thinking of him just saying that to me.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “I don’t know Liverpool. I live over the water on the Wirral.”



“Well, I want to get acquainted better. What about The Adelphi??” He said, with a squeeze to my waist.



The Adelphi?



At one time it had been one of the biggest and most ornate hotels in Liverpool.

In it’s time.

“Sure, anything you want,” I answered, a tad naively.

I say that ‘coz of what he said next.

“Anything?” He asked.



And, I don’t know what made me answer, ‘yes’, but I had.

“Yes, anything.” Funny, for some reason, I meant it.



Well, the walk from the theatre to the hotel took about ten minutes and through the whole walk, I didn’t mind the looks we got as we walked arm in arm.



Soon, hopefully, I’d be doing more than linking arms, with Alan.

As it was, I would.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.



He had booked a room with a double bed, and then turned to smile at me, as he took the key. And, though I’m sure the desk clerk realised why we were there, all she had done was smile sweetly, saying, ‘Have a nice day.’



I didn’t know about the night, but I sure intended a nice afternoon and possibly the evening, if he could spare the time, I had mused stepping into the lift with Alan.

In the lift he turned to me, then caressed my right cheek with his left hand.



As his fingers traced the length of my lower lip, I trembled,

“Are you alright?” He asked, with concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” I answered, “I .. I ..”

I wanted to say, ‘I want you’, but was scared. This was all happening so fast.

And, as if to prove the point, the lift arrived at our floor.



Once we were in our room Alan took me in his arms and we embraced. He then pressed his lips to mine and we kissed, his tongue in my mouth, left hand behind my head, right hand on my buttock, squeezing.



As we drew apart a moment, he felt my arousal, while I stood immobile my own hands at my sides.

It had been the same each time before, I’d make the play, then once alone, become theirs, to use as they chose.



Evelyn, my last lover said I was meant to be a fucktoy. She’d said that just after dressing me in a French maids outfit, with small white pinny, from Ann Summers.

And, Evelyn had known what she’d been talking about. That night I’d served her and two friends, as they drank wine and teased me; before she had taken me upstairs.



She’d had me kneel over her bed, panties round my thighs, as she’d slid into my well-lubed arsehole, a six-inch dildo, attached to the harness and rubber panties she wore.

The thing was so designed, that as she pumped her hips back and forth, the other end of the dildo rubbed itself against her blood-engorged clit.



Evelyn had so-loved fucking me.



She could last for hours, cumming again and again. At the end, I’d have sore knees and well-dilated sphincter muscles.

That was then; now, I watched Alan unzip my jacket, then allowing it to fall to the floor, he began to undo my shirt buttons.



Looking down, I saw his fingers work deftly; to reveal the lilac I wore beneath the white.

“There’s something I should tell you,” I said softly.

He grinned.



“No kid?” He retorted with a grin, as he ran his hands over my button hard nipples, beneath the lilac slip.



“I’m bi,” I told Alan, as he unfastened my belt buckle, then unclasped my jeans.

“And…” My trousers fell to the floors and around my ankles, allowing the slip to fall to mid-thigh, my arousal tenting outward, through dark tan tights and really pretty, purple panties worn reversed, to hold me in place.



“And…” I began to say more, but his fingers were playing with my nipples again.

I just closed my eyes and sighed.

“…and play with my tits like this…” I gasped softly.



“And, I’ll be good for nothing, but being your fucktoy.”

I knew what I’d said. It was as good as an offer: and, boy, did I hope he’d take me up on it.


COMMENTS

-



RaineyLustfulBites
RaineyLustfulBites
22:58 Jul 11 2009

I like it very well written and sexy

keep it up





themoonlightishome
themoonlightishome
23:56 Jul 15 2009

i always love your work hun this is a well written damn sexy peice!





 

A Very Naked Lunch

01:36 Jul 05 2009
Times Read: 1,154


*For Adults Only







She looked out the plate glass window, bored beyond belief. Gazing at the Wirral in miniature, the many pinpricks of man-made light gave the vista below the appearance of a starlit sky...



"Are you going out tomorrow?" Her flat mate asked from the open doorway to his bedroom, "because I've got a delivery expected tomorrow and I need someone in the flat."



"No, I don't think so..." she replied distantly, as she watched the rain begin to fall from the living-room window of the thirteenth floor flat they shared together. Then, she paused a moment to idly wonder;



'I wonder who he is cooking for tomorrow?'



"Sorry, I can't say I'll be in ... I might have plans," she said aloud, turning from the window.



"Like what?" he had asked, his curiosity piqued.



"Well," she begun, picking up her old black leather jacket, the one that he had given her, "I'm off to the phone..."



She had put the jacket on and said, "So, I'll let you know in about five minutes. Okay?"



As she had gone down in the lift, the young woman considered her ex... yes, certainly she had known his reputation when she asked him out: she had been told that he was a flirt, stubborn, irrational and it had not taken long for the young woman to find that the warnings had been accurate. Though no-one had warned her about the baggage he had carried with him - the baggage from his two previous failed relationships.



'Yet,' she thought, as the lift reached the ground floor and the doors opened, 'all that said, he hadn't been boring.'



She walked in the rain towards the nearby phone-box and dialled his number with speed, for this had to be done whilst the mood was upon her...



And, though he had been surprised to hear her voice, he then told himself,



'I shouldn't be...'



For it had been the petite half South-American who had asked him out, who had taught him so much of love and through herself and all that they had shared together, much about himself;



'...Then to finish with me, she sends me a Dear John letter. No, I shouldn't be surprised to hear from her at all. Not at all...



"You want to know if I'm cooking for anyone? Why?" he had said, more than a little indignant that she had presumed to ask.



"Because," she replied, "it you're not cooking for anyone else, you might like to invite me? And, if you do want me, to come for lunch, then

... well, we could play games?"



He gulped his surprise, before asking, "Like what?"



"Well," she said, in an encouraging tone of voice, "I thought that we might

play that one you like ... girlfriend?"



He had gulped a second time, then asked her: "Would you like to come, for lunch tomorrow? ... Say about noon?"



She went back to the flat and dug out her little black dress, whilst thinking to herself, 'I'm not staying in tomorrow. I'm off to have lunch

and then ... play games.'



It is twelve-minutes past twelve; he knows, for he has looked at the clock virtually every thirty seconds, since eleven fifty-nine.



Then the door knocker sounds twice and he rises to answer the door, quite breathless, at both seeing her again and how perfect she looks; as the wind catches her long dark hair, that she ever-so elegantly sweeps away from her face, whilst her perfume, Anais Anin he thinks, drifts on the light breeze.



Then she breaks the spell he is under, by asking him directly:



"Well, are you going to ask me in, or what?"



As he cooks lunch the couple chat amiably enough, although as she asks,



'What have you seen on t.v. of late?' his mind is not on the topic of her conversation, but rather, the reason for her being there and his answers to any questions asked display his distraction and she smiles at his apparent discomfort.



Then when they sit to eat, he finds his eyes drawn to her pert breasts, pressing against the bra and white blouse that she wears and he notices that her nipples are very hard.



"So how come you're here?" He asks, while they eat their breaded Hoki, garlic and onion mushrooms with a little pasta in a cheese sauce.



"To play games and enjoy a good dinner." She replies; "And, this is good."



His heart beats faster with her answer and he smiles, blushing a little.



Then, after they have finished eating, she tells him:



" I'm going to freshen up. While I'm in the bathroom you'll do the dishes, won't you? Then come to me?"



"Of course..." the young man tells her.



When he enters his bedroom, with two mugs of coffee, she hands him a carrier-bag and flashes him her brightest smile, saying,



"Put these on in the bathroom, so when you come back we can play 'girlfriends."'



Looking in the mirror he finds pleasure from his reflection and runs his right hand over his chest and taut nipples, already hard with anticipation. Then he leaves the bathroom, his heart beating a little faster once more. He returns to find his ex waiting for him on his bed, with her legs drawn up, music playing, volume turned low and the room illuminated by a single candle.



"You look nice, Wendy," she tells him, as he stands before her, in the little black dress ... beneath which, she knows, he is wearing the black lace garter belt and black nylon panties; whilst on his legs he wears the sheerest of stockings.



He has even made up his lips carefully in the shade, a light pink, that he knows, she likes him to wear. And he sighs inwardly with pleasure, to

hear her use his feminine name and he thinks, 'it sounds so good, to be accepted by her like this. Oh - so - good.'



"Well give me a twirl," she tells Wendy, who instantly responds and turns. delighted to here, with her once again.



"Oh yes," the young woman says rising from the bed, "you do look nice."



Then taking Wendy in her arms, they cuddle, with their lips hardly touching and he wants to cry, as she finally kisses him.



And Wendy melts into her girlfriends arms as their tongues mesh, the young woman sliding eager hands over her lovers body as they kiss, toying, just occasionally with Wendy's nipples ... and his manhood hardens, with desire for her touch; that always has him feeling very wanted; as he finds from her, both approval and affection.



Her mouth coaxes and caresses, teasing him with an urgent pressure, that is also as delicate as the touch of rose petals. She plunders Wendy's lips with a kiss that is all that he had hoped for, tender and intimate, hungry and very demanding. And he watches in the mirror fixed to the wardrobe the two women kiss, as the brunette runs drifting hands down Wendy's curves, to glide over the sleekness of her hips, to embrace her lover tighter still; so that the young woman can feel the evidence of his arousal.



Wendy kisses at the sensitive areas behind her ears, nipping her earlobes gently and she shivers all the way down to her toes. She moves her hands upward as Wendy kisses, to nylon-clad legs, then higher still ... and he gasps his pleasure, until she parts from him and he stands waiting.



As the brunette withdraws from their embrace she trails the fingers of her left hand, in a feather-light touch, down Wendy's right cheek, bringing her heavily-coated lips closer, as she says to her trembling girlfriend,



"You like being my girl, don't you?" And as she backs away she hears the answer, 'yes,' murmured very quietly, as if said from a great depth. She smiles, looking at Wendy, who she wants to see before her, staring up, knowing how wet she is for the pleasures that they will share and the brunette says, "I want you to undress me."



Sitting down on the bed once more, the young woman swings her legs round, placing her feet on the floor after which she takes one pillow and puts it at the pit of her back and standing the second against the wall, she then lays back into the pillows and saying to her lover, "Start with my boots,' as she indicates her Doc Martens, 'take off my boots."



And he does, kneeling before her, taking each boot that he works on and then sitting it's heel on his hard, nylon-covered cock.



Finally both boots removed, she says, "Now my socks ... and remember, be very gentle, you know I'm ticklish."



Her feet naked, he looks to her eyes.



"Please me,' she tells him, smiling as she grasps at his erect right nipple, through the material of the dress he wears, with forefinger and thumb;



'Please me ..." she says again, as she draws him to her, with the hold she has upon him; whilst her other hand works the belt, zip and button of her coal black jeans.



She smiles at his discomfort that she knows he adores to endure for he.



"Now,' she tells him, 'stay on your knees."



As he kneels before her, she sits back and slips from her jeans and pants, so that her shaven vagina is unveiled to his eyes.



'Oh my, ' the young man thinks, 'I'd almost forgotten how good it looks. So neat and so, perfect ...



He is enraptured, as she slowly opens her thigh's ... to his ever - so hungry eyes and she says to him, one more time, quietly, "Please me ... She lifts her hips up to his face - and with eager tongue, he parts her glistening folds, slurping and sucking at her liquid essence.



He draws in the smell of her, as he begins to kiss ... the inside of her thigh's, first right, and then left ... and slowly upward.



He laps at her luscious, succulent flesh, as she runs languid fingers through his hair. Her closed eyes flutter, with her mouth forming a near

perfect '0' as the young woman gasps aloud her pleasure.



He runs his tongue through her, till he finds the nubbin of flesh, that she had so wanted him to ... and he draws back the hood of flesh away from the clitoris, very gently.



As he licks at his ex, he presses himself against her mons, till his face is smeared with her fresh lubricant and pleasurable sensations flow through the woman, as he finds a rhythm that suits her and she begins to hump his face ... grinding herself against him, as he tries to meet her need.



'Oh yes,' she thinks, her passion rising, 'this is just what I wanted.'



And as she begins to writhe in the ecstasy of orgasm, she draws his face against her moist, aromatic sex ... and she 'cums,' bucking herself wildly against him, moaning loudly in the frenzy of passion that he has arisen.



Suddenly she sighs and collapses, like a rag doll, unable to move her arms, legs or head and finally sated ... she replaces the pillows, removing her blouse, then bra and she crawls beneath the duvet, saying to him:



"Well, you can cuddle with me," as he looks at her dolefully, "if you want."



He gets in bed with her, and holds her to himself, her long lustrous hair in his face, his erect cock trapped in the crease of her buttocks, through the clothing that he wears and he presses his hardness against her, in an effort to find stimulation ... and she turns her face to his and says, "No, not like that, you're my girl aren't you?" She rolls over to face him and stroking her lovers hair says, "So lie on your belly." He does. The young woman slowly slides the hem of the little black dress up exposing his thigh

flesh, stocking-tops and then his panty-clad buttocks.



And, moistening a finger-tip with saliva, the young woman tells her lover,



"I know you want this ... don't you, Wendy?"



He moans his assent into the pillow, as she pushes the panties aside and slides the finger deep into him ... and he looks back, to see the look of deliberation on her face as she wonders, 'How many can he take?"



Come ten 0' clock that night, the young woman creeps from the bed and dons her clothing quietly, occasionally looking down at her ex, as he sleeps, sprawled amidst the crumpled duvet, the panties round his knees and the stockings laddered and torn. There is a look of sheer contentment on his face. Then before she leaves, the woman writes out a note and stands it by his bedside locker:



Thanks for a pleasant evening. - Lunch was really good. So, I'd like to book a table for next Saturday. Ok ?



- Val



P.S. I do hope that Wendy is available, to serve me ?



COMMENTS

-



ladyofdragonrose
ladyofdragonrose
01:58 Jul 05 2009

This is soooo good...:)





 

The Old House

00:52 Jul 04 2009
Times Read: 1,156


James stood in the hallway and closed the front door. Outside it was sunny, while inside it was dark, gloomy and foreboding. He closed his eyes for a second, before looking to his younger self, walking up the stairs, hand upon the balustrade.

He had sworn not to return here again, having left many years earlier. Yet here he was once again. James opened his eyes and decided to follow, as he had once chased that first kiss. His life had been spent full of brooding angst, looking back on the self-destruction of his life, avoiding the move.

As he toured the second floor James recalls the brooding type she had been drawn to, who no longer existed and he felt hollow, as he tried first one door, then another.

With cautious steps he warily trod through the miasma of memory.

Many of the doors were locked, yet one opened to a dust strewn room, full of detritus which he walked through, to look out of grime covered windows: and, James drew his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped through the dirt, to stare out at the sunny day outside.


COMMENTS

-






COMPANY
REQUEST HELP
CONTACT US
SITEMAP
REPORT A BUG
UPDATES
LEGAL
TERMS OF SERVICE
PRIVACY POLICY
DMCA POLICY
REAL VAMPIRES LOVE VAMPIRE RAVE
© 2004 - 2024 Vampire Rave
All Rights Reserved.
Vampire Rave is a member of 
Page generated in 0.2489 seconds.
X
Username:

Password:
I agree to Vampire Rave's Privacy Policy.
I agree to Vampire Rave's Terms of Service.
I agree to Vampire Rave's DMCA Policy.
I agree to Vampire Rave's use of Cookies.
•  SIGN UP •  GET PASSWORD •  GET USERNAME  •
X