tagAnalAnal At Last Ch. 06

Anal At Last Ch. 06

byscottishmeat©

[This story is one of a sequence I've written. You can read the other parts of the story for more details, but here is a summary;

I've recently divorced my wife, and am raising my son on my own. After a long abstinence, I've met a woman (Angela), and after some anal play, we finally had anal sex. In the kitchen of all places! I'd also helped out with an email issue on her PC, and she'd secretly set up a webcam to record me having a wank whilst watching some porn on her PC that she'd left me. But I saw the webcam, and gave her a little show... and then kept a note of her email details, as I saw a mail from her friend, with my name in the subject line...

The cast: Me: 36 yrs male My son: Daniel My girlfriend: Angela, 40 yrs The babysitter: Samantha, 18 yrs Samantha's dad: Bill Samantha's brother: David]


That weekend, I'd made plans to go out with some mates of mine for a good session. Samantha was baby sitting Daniel again (don't know how I'd manage without her!), so all was well. Angela had phoned me during the week, on speaker phone from work, but she'd not mentioned anything specific about me wanking on her camera, or noticing my spunk stains on her knickers, on her keyboard, in her facial cream, or me having left the movie directory open. She did ask me if I'd had a wank, though, whilst watching the movie she'd set up for me. I thought about it for a second, and said "Are you at work?"

"Yes, damned reports to write for tomorrow."

"And no-one is listening in?" I asked

"No. Just me, all on my lonesome, bored and frustrated."

I put a salacious tone in to my voice "How bored? Bored enough for a little telephone sex to break up your evening?"

She laughed, "No, not tonight Josephine... So, did you have a wank?"

"No," I answered, wondering how she'd respond.

"Oh, why not? Wasn't the porn interesting enough?" she asked, surprised (and I thought I could detect a slight giggle in her voice, as though she did actually know that I'd wanked, but was playing along).

"Well, I thought about it, but I figured I'd rather have a wank while you're watching, so I can see getting turned on. You would love to see that, wouldn't you? Sitting there opposite me, watching my cock get hard as I rubbed the foreskin up and down, seeing some cum leak from me, smelling my excitement in the air, hearing my breath get faster. You'd be so turned on that you'd start to rub yourself, playing with your nipples, pushing a finger down inside your pants, and rubbing it up and down your lips till they parted to let your finger in. Then you'd...."

There was a rattle on the phone, as she picked up the handset. "Baby, that's enough of that. I said not tonight, and I meant it. Save it for me for another night. Listen, I've got to go, someone's just waving at me from the other office - I think they want me to come see something they're working on. Catch up with you later." And with that, she hung up. She sent me a text later to apologise for hanging up so abruptly, and asking if I was free on Saturday to watch a movie.

I wasn't (that's the night I'd had planned with the boys), but I'd replied to say she was welcome to come over afterwards, and to stay the night if she wanted.

She didn't respond within the next few minutes, so I left it to her to get back to me if she wanted to, and assumed she wouldn't be staying the night if I didn't hear before then.

-----------

So I got ready for the night out, with still no word from Angela, and Samantha came over to look after Daniel. I gave him his bath, put him to bed, and read him his favourite story... again! I love him to bits, but I wish kids would like something new for a change.

When I came back downstairs, Samantha had her college books out already. We got chatting about her course, and she shared how much she worked. Jesus, that girl had no life outside of college, homework, or working in the restaurant where she served as a waitress a couple of nights a week.

"Listen, Samantha, why don't you kick back a bit tonight? Watch a movie, have a beer, whatever," I prompted.

"I can't drink, Andy, I've got Daniel to look after."

"Well, OK, you can't get drunk, but you could have one or two beers. Anyway, I know you wouldn't get rat-arsed, you're too sensible for that. Seriously, have a think about it."

We carried on chatting whilst I waited for the taxi to turn up. The latest news was that her dad had a date tonight, which was great. I like her dad. He's a bit of an old fuddy-duddy for someone the same age as me, but he's a "salt of the earth" kind of chap - will give you a hand with anything, calls a spade a spade, and hasn't got any pretensions. Samantha was a bit dubious about the situation - it was the first woman he's been with since her mum died, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

I tried to ease her mind about it, and talked about me and Angela, and how I needed someone for me, and how that wouldn't push Daniel's mum out of the picture. Although the divorce had been bad between us, I never let it ruin Daniel's relationship with his mum, aside from me having custody.

I think the talk helped Sam, as she seemed a little bit more relaxed by the time my ride arrived, so I left her to her study, pointedly left some DVDs on the coffee table in plain view, and went out for the night.

En route to town, I had a thought, and called Samantha on my home phone.

"Samantha, I've just had a thought. Let me say what it is, and you can decide whether to take me up on it. You don't need to answer now - take the rest of the evening to think about it.

"So here it is: you're dad's got this date right, he's probably nervous and excited - I know I was when I started dating Angela. And, whilst I know he loves you to bits and will lay down his life for you, I'm sure there's a small part of him wants to bring the lovely lady home if she wants to, and carry on the evening after their meal. And trust me; he won't want you barging in in the middle of it.

"So, here's my suggestion: I've got the spare room. Stay over tonight - you can pinch my dressing gown and an t-shirt from my cupboard if you want. Help yourself to food and so on, and for god's sake check with your dad first, I don't want him thinking I've locked you in the attic to have my wicked way with you!"

"Oh, Andy, I don't know..."she began.

"Well, go make yourself a cup of tea and have a think about it. You said you're dad's not going out for another half-an-hour or so, so give him a call before he goes out and run it by him. That way, if you and he decide that you'll stay over, he'll know before he goes out that he's got the place to himself, and that he's got the chance to relax a bit with this mystery woman in his own home, after the horrible first-date-chat-over-a-meal formality. Oh, and one more thing - I'll pay you baby-sitting the whole night. If you're staying the whole night, I don't need to head back early, so I might go with the lads to a club after all. And don't tell me that you don't need or want the money - I know what it's like to be a student."

She agreed to think about it, after some arguing about the money (which I won), so I left it at that and sat back till I got into town. Just as I got to the pub, she sent me a text to say she'd be staying over and her dad would bring her stuff over on the way out.

I grinned at the thought of her dad having the place to his self, seeing him like a nervous schoolboy inviting the date over for a coffee.

-----------------------------------------

And so the night went on. Many beers were consumed - too many, I realise now. The drunken part of my brain was glad that Samantha was staying over, as she might offer to get up and get Daniel his breakfast while I nurse the hangover which I knew was on the way.

The night was a good one - we got chatting to a hen party. Those things are always really tacky, but with a few beers down you, they can be a good laugh. We even met up later in the evening in another pub, by accident, and we decided to spend the rest of the night together. Much more beer flowed.

I got chatting to the bride-to-be, pissed as a fart. Well, we both were. At one point, after some banter about the wedding night and how that was always a disaster due to both parties being tired, and then the fantastic honeymoon period where you fuck like bunnies, and how it was all downhill from there till kids arrived, and then sex dries up altogether, she dragged me off into a darker corner of the pub. She pushed me up against the wall, and started snogging me. She was actually pretty damned nice, if a little drunker than I like, but as I was pretty well pissed as well, I went with it. We were merrily tickling each other's tonsils, and she snaked her hand down to feel my cock.

"Ooh, nice", she said, appreciatively, as she started rubbing up and down. "Fancy giving me the last screw of my single life?"

Part of me, the drunk part, was shouting "Yes, Yes, YES" in my head, but I'm cursed with a still small voice inside of me that gets very calm and orderly when pissed. Normally, it's great for getting me to stop drinking before I pass out, throw up, or otherwise embarrass myself. But this time, it was saying "No... don't... wait for Angela."

Damn it. Sometimes I hate that voice.

But I do listen to it, since it's always right, so I pulled the bride's hand away, and told her to save herself for married life. And off she went, wobbling slightly back to the crowd, setting her sights on one of the other boys in my crowd. Dirty Pete, as we call him, was the target. And his eyes lit up when she reached up to pull him down and give him a snog. It took him a moment for his brain to catch up with what his tongue was doing, but then his massive hands came down and grabbed the bride's ass, pulling her onto him.

Ah well, I thought, at least someone is getting there end away tonight. I obviously wasn't, as I'd still not heard from Angela. But, that meant I could relax and have a few more beers than I would do normally, since I wouldn't have to perform later.

---------------------------------------

The night wore on, and that small voice kicked in again saying "go home, you've had enough." So off I went, saying goodbye to the guys, wandering amongst the hen party and giving them all a peck on the cheek or raising their hand to kiss the back of it. The bride wasn't around... and nor was Dirty Pete.

By luck, I managed to find a taxi fairly quickly, and went home. I made myself some toast and a cup of tea, giving myself some time to let my head stop buzzing from all the noise of the pubs, and settled down in front of the TV.

My phone beeped - a text message. I picked it up, and saw a message from Pete - it was a photo text. Took me a while to recognise what it was, then I realised it was a view down the length of his body, and ...yes.... there was the hen-party headdress worn by the bride-to-be, as she gave him a blowjob. That's why he's called Dirty Pete.

I deleted it, and carried on eating my toast. When I'd finished and was sipping the tea, watching some crap on TV, when my phone beeped again.

It was a text message from Angela: "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"AT HOME", I sent back.

"GOOD. OPEN THE FRONT DOOR"

What? I went to the door, staggering only a little bit (maybe I should have stopped drinking a little bit earlier than I did), and could see her through the glass. I opened it up, and let her in, looking at her questioningly.

"I wasn't going to come over, as I know you were looking forward to some beers with the boys. But I was bored, and fancied spending the night with you for once. Maybe not the best night, as you'll be stinking of beer in the morning, farting, sweaty, snoring, and all the other things that men do when they get drunk, but I figure it's best to get this over with and then it's only going to get better after that."

"OK," I said, and lead her through to the lounge. I sat down, and waved my hand in the general direction of the kitchen. "The kettle's not long boiled, if you want a cup of tea. Be a love and make it, I'm shagged."

She walked up close to me, and sniffed my breath. "Jesus. That's the only shagging going on this house tonight," then she flounced off to the kitchen.

Despite being pissed, I still could think dirty thoughts, and set to thinking (somewhat haphazardly in my drunk state) about taking her up the ass again. My cock responded, although maybe not as quickly as normal.

She came back in, and sat beside me. I looked at her. "Angela baby, when you've finished your tea, we'll head up and have sex."

She looked at me and laughed. "Andy, Andy, Andy. You're as pissed as a fart. There's no way you're getting a hard-on tonight."

"I can. I'm not that pissed. But you'll have to go on top, as I don't think I can be bothered with all that hard work."

"Hah. Andy, trust me, you'll never get a hard on. And there's no way I'm going on top while you fall asleep underneath me. No sex tonight. Finish your tea and we'll head up stairs."

I grabbed her hand, and placed it on my cock. "Feel that? That's a hard on. Are you sure you don't want sex?"

"That's not a hard on," she said disparagingly. "It's a bit of interest, and it will go away as soon as you stand up."

"Alright, let's place a bet," I said. "If I can get a full hard on, you'll give me sex tonight. If I can't, I'll give you sex in the morning..."

"No Andy, no sex tonight. You stink of beer and curry. But I'll tell you what. If you can get a full hard-on now, I'll give you a blow job, just to get you to shut up. Then we'll head upstairs and go to sleep. Then when we wake up, you'll get on top and give me a good hard fucking till I come. Whether you come or not is irrelevant."

"Deal!" I exclaimed, and whipped down my jeans and boxers. My cock was a bit swollen, but definitely not a hard on. So I started wanking, nice strong strokes designed to get my cock rising. I tried all my best moves, but nothing happened. Bugger it, I thought. So I lay back, closed my eyes, and start remembering what it was like to fuck her up the ass in the kitchen, whilst still wanking.

That started things happening. Not much, but it was a start. I then started thinking about her wanking herself whilst using a dildo in her ass, and that really got things going. Still not quite hard, but definitely showing interest. I thought for a bit. "OK, you didn't say that I had to do it myself. Stand up."

"No," she said, "I don't know what you've got in mind, but whatever it is, it's cheating."

"No it's not; you just said I had to get a hard on, not how I got it. Stand up, take your jeans off, and stand in front of me."

She shook her head, looked at my cock, and laughed. "Alright. That's a safe bet - there ain't nothing going on down there tonight honey." Then she stood up, slid her jeans down her legs, bending forward as she did so, wriggling like a striptease. Yumm. What a lovely ass, with a black thong coming out from under her cunt, and disappearing in her ass crack, re-appearing at the top and splitting round her waist to frame her buns. She straightened, and kicked the jeans off her feet, shuffling back towards me.


I reached forward, and grabbed her hips, pulling her bum in close. Then I started kissing and licking, nibbling her cheeks, running my tongue up the crease of her ass outside the thong, whilst dropping one hand down to my cock and wanking some more. She moaned a bit as my tongue separated her cheeks, then tutted, tapped her foot, and put her hands on her hips, as though fed up with my attentions and waiting for it to be over. But I could feel small movements in her hips, so there was no fooling me.

That was enough. The old boy did me proud and started rising to the challenge. After a few minutes of kissing her lovely ass, he was at full stand, ready for some action.

I stopped kissing her ass. "Baby, just one more thing to do...."

"No Andy, I'm not doing anything else, it obviously isn't going to happen tonight."

"As I was saying ... Just one thing Angela: get down on your knees and open those sweet lips of yours." She turned quick, looking down at my cock in amazement.

"You bastard," she said. "How did you manage that? You're bloody lucky."

"Luck nothing. I'd have to drink another 10 pints before I couldn't get it up for your ass... Why are you still standing?" I grabbed her hips and started pulling her down towards the floor. She knelt down between my legs, and reached out for my cock. She started wanking me, running one hand up and down the top, pulling my foreskin up and down with it, whilst the other hand played with my balls.

"Ooooh, baby, that's nice .... but you said a blow job," I groaned. She pulled my cock towards her a bit, and lowered her head. Her lips touched my cock, and it jumped in her hands. She opened her mouth, and sank her head down, taking me in to her hot warmth.

I grabbed the back of her head, pulling her mouth further down onto me, and leaned back into the sofa to enjoy the blowjob. She wanked me at the same time, which is a good job, as I think she would have been there for hours with my beer-numbed prick if she'd just used her mouth. I looked down, and noticed that she had her hand in the front of the thong, and she was fingering herself as she sucked me.

I kind of lost track of time, drifting in and out of the feeling of hot mouth and tongue on my cock, and warm hands fondling my balls, and eventually I could feel my come building up. So could she, and she started wanking me faster. She took my cock out of her mouth, and looked up at me. "Baby, I'm not going to swallow this time... I want you to come on my tits and face, just like in the movies. Make me messy baby. Show me how much you own me. Treat me like your own little porn star. Come on me baby, come on me..." She reached up to her top, pulled it off, leaving her bra only. Then she undid that as I started wanking my prick by myself. I stood up, standing over her as she knelt between my legs, her face up-tilted towards me, her hands pushing at her tits, pushing them up and squeezing them. I carried on wanking, and she stretched up, sticking out her tongue, and licking my balls. Fuck, that felt good.

"Do it baby, come on me, come all over me, make me rub it into my tits, make me lick it all up till I'm all clean again," she moaned, running her tongue up the underside of my hard-as-steel cock. I really started wanking fast then, saying "Get ready slut, I'm going to come over you, my spunk's going to get in your hair, in your mouth, on your tits. Then you're going to scoop it up and swallow it right off your fingers, and rub it in your tits till I see how turned on you're getting. .... Here it comes baby.... get ready.... oh Jesus!" And then I came, great globs of come leaping up into the air and landing on her. Some went on her face, some dropped down onto her tits as she pushed them up to catch as much as possible. She licked her lips, taking in some spunk that had landed around her mouth, and I rubbed my cock over her face to wipe off the excess. She brought her hand up and scooped it all up; pushing it into her mouth and sucking her fingers clean, moaning and staring up at me as she did. Then she started rubbing the cum that had landed on her breasts, spreading it down to the nipples, making them erect. I gently grabbed her jaw in one hand, and lined it up with my cock. She got the hint, and opened her mouth, sucking my sensitive glans into her mouth, her tongue instantly going to work cleaning my head, and she sucked to get the last of my come out of me.

My cock was drooping fast, the beer kicking in where normally I would have stayed hard enjoying her mouth. I pulled her head away, hearing her whimper a little as my cock exited her mouth... and I pulled her up to her feet, bringing her lips to mine and giving her a deep French kiss. I fondled her ass as I did, running my fingers up and down her ass crack, pressing into her rosebud through her thong. She groaned into my mouth, rubbing her groin up and down against my now thoroughly deflated cock. I could feel how wet she'd become from wanking while she was going down on me.

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