Fifty-Fifty

She did not return to my cock, I probably would have shot my bolt if she had. Instead, she climbed astride my recumbent body, much as I had hers when I wanked off onto her tits. I thought, hoped, that she would impale herself on my cock and ride me to completion that way, but she had other ideas. She moved herself up until her dripping sex was directly over my face, and lowered herself down onto my mouth. I just love this. It left my hands free to roam all over my tormentor's body as I tunnelled into first her cunt, and then her arsehole, and then back again with my tongue. She held onto the cum-spattered bed-head for support as I reamed as deeply as I could into her twin pleasure portals. My cock was thrashing the air, questing for cunt. I relinquished my hold on her left tit and instead wrapped that hand around my straining shaft so that I could have that pleasure as well as that of her apparently fucking my tongue.

She came powerfully and noisily, bearing down on my face so hard that I was unable to breath, mouth and nose enclosed by wet, spasming cunt-flesh. To drown in cunt, there must be worse ways for a man to go? But she reprieved me by sliding down my body and guiding my near-to-bursting cock into the sodden chasm that her cunt had become. As I thrust powerfully up into her, she leaned forward to kiss and lick her own juices from my face. I had thought perhaps that I would not be able to come for a second time, now I felt that nothing could stop me. She tried. By offering me a choice. She put her sweet lips close to my ear and whispered;

"Do you want to come in my cunt or in my mouth?"

I answered with action , not words. I was too far gone to stop. I blasted my second coming high into her hungry depths.

She rolled off and laid on her back. I watched her lovely firm tits rise and fall as she regained control of her breathing. Now I was spent, now it was surely over? I knew that I could still ejaculate several times in a day, but not in such quick succession. She had her own room to go back to, and probably had to work tomorrow. But I did not want it to end. I sat up and asked if she would like a drink, she chose water. I padded naked and rather unsteadily, to the multi-purpose furniture unit that occupied almost all of one wall. I opened a bottle and filled two glasses, taking a large mouthful from one before turning back to her. She had moved to the centre of the bed and was propped up on pillows. Her legs were spread wide and she was playing with herself, using my spunk as lubrication. I stood at the end of the bed watching the slim fingers of one hand probe into the wet maw of her gaping cunt as she strummed the stiff pink bead of her clit with the other. She quickly brought herself to another small but intense orgasm, as much for my pleasure as for hers.

My gulp of water seemed to have refreshed that which I had considered un-refreshable – my cock was as hard as a nail, and pointing at the ceiling. I had never seen anything quite so desirable, she was wide open, her eyes were smoky with lust, but at the same time shone. Her full lips seemed to be parted for the sole reason of sucking cock, her fine tits were swollen and stiff-nippled, her body had a sheen of sweat and spunk combined. And her cunt, oh her cunt, gaping, swollen lipped and with spunk seeping from it. My spunk! The vision of lust spoke;

"How would you feel about fucking a very sloppy cunt?"

I had been holding a glass in each hand, transfixed. I placed them carefully on the bedside table and without touching her, positioned myself between her parted thighs for re-entry, supporting myself on my knees and outstretched arms. What I had in mind was that the first part of me to touch her, would be the tip of my cock as it parted those juicy pink lips. She seemed to catch the idea by some kind of intimate telepathy. She made no attempt to touch me either, just stared down at where our two bodies would meld. I carefully lodged my swollen knob between the oily lips and sank ball-deep in one steady thrust. I swear that I could hear the squelch as my cock, which seemed to have grown to double its normal size, displaced the sex-cocktail that we had previously produced.

It was not possible just to stay like that, we had to fuck. I pounded her so fiercely that she gasped at every violent upthrust. I pulled out and flipped her onto all-fours, plunging back into her and continuing out most vigorous fuck of the lot. She turned her head to speak and I slowed my movements to listen;

"Put it in my arse," she demanded.

She reached for her bag on the bedside table, and produced a small tube of lubricant. She had obviously come prepared for this. I took the tube and spread the clear jelly over the pink-brown pucker of her anus, working it deep into her with my fingers. I held my already slippery cock between my fingers as I reluctantly withdrew from the hole that had given me so much pleasure and directed it to the other, tighter, taboo place. She was very tight there, it was sweet agony for both of us as I gently gained depth, pushing slowly, stopping so that she could accommodate my bulk. At last it was fully engaged. I held it there, savouring the vice like grip on my shaft, but she seemed to want punishing;

"Fuck me," she demanded, "as hard and as fast as you can."

I obliged, knowing that this would definitely be my last hurrah. Her screams became one continuous howl as I pumped mercilessly into her tight passage, my own roar adding to the noise as I flooded her with reserves that I did not know I had. The arms that had taken the weight of the onslaught, both pairs, collapsed at the same time and we fell flat on the bed with me still on her back, gasping and giggling at the pure joy of it. I rolled off her, fighting for breath. She lay quiet beside me for a few minutes, then, as I began to get my breathing back under control, rose from the bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door.



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I was not alone for long. I did not even have time to order a drink before my first suitor was alongside me, offering to buy one for me. He was all salesman, radiating confidence. Too pushy, I thought. Nor did I like his aftershave, or whatever he was wearing. I recognised the scent, it was one of those that is advertised as a guaranteed knicker-remover. It is not, it just makes me sneeze. Accepting the risk that he might be my only option, I politely declined. And so it was with the next one - too young. And the next - too old, the next too fat, etc. I realised that I was bottling it, any of them would have done, all I wanted was a prick. My feet of clay were also cold. Then there were none.

The bar-tender appeared before me.

"The gentleman at the end of the bar would like to buy you a drink," he said.

I looked along the bar at him. Last chance? He was certainly not what I was expecting, he was about forty, average height, average build, dark hair greying slightly, suited, but no tie. And certainly not pushy, he had used a go-between. Perfect really, but... Why not, I told myself, I smiled at him and gave the barman my order; Irish whiskey. I had enjoyed it in coffee, what did it taste like as a stand-alone?

The drink and its buyer arrived at the same time, he was carrying his own drink, which appeared to be just red wine, nothing hard. I picked up my whiskey and turned to face him, asking;

"What are we drinking to?"

"Strangers in the night?" he offered, referring to the Sinatra standard.

Clever, I thought. Reply in kind.

"Scooby-dooby doo."

And we drank. The whiskey burned my mouth. It's very different without the coffee, the sweetness and the cream. I shuddered. But as it went down I could appreciate the warming effect. An acquired taste? To hide my grimace, I said;

"Your room or mine?"

He turned it back on me, replying;

"Ladies choice."

I chose mine, he could have the wet patch. We neither spoke nor touched in the lift, or on the short walk to his room. My heart was beating wildly, would I be able to appear as the new me? The Ms Hyde to my previous Doctor Jeykell? He swiped his card-key in the door lock and a little green light illuminated. Green light!

The room was identical to mine, the lights had been left on low and there was music playing softly. I walked to the bed and placed my handbag on the bedside table, then turned to him. He had removed his jacket and was hanging it on a hanger! Probably as nervous as I was. We walked the few steps towards each other and met at the end of the bed, I put my arms around his neck and he took me in his, holding me close as we kissed. A deep kiss, on my part at least – a declaration of intent – anything goes. I felt his prick rise up against me and I pushed myself against it, intensifying the kiss. His hands slid gently down my back until he was cupping a buttock in each hand, pulling me against the now solid column of flesh trapped in his pants. He moved his hands to my neck of my dress and slid the zip smoothly down, but fumbled with the catch. I turned away and lifted my hair so that he could find the fastening. He unhooked me, then kissed the base of my neck, on that prominent little bone. I shuddered in anticipation of what was to follow.

I stepped away and turned to him, letting my dress fall to the floor. It caught on the toe of one shoe, I kicked it away and it landed on a chair. I allowed him a good view of my new 'man-trap' undies, then released the bra and tossed that too, onto the chair. He placed his hands gently on my shoulders, bent his head and kissed each nipple in turn, then took each into his mouth, rolling it between his lips while teasing it with his tongue. I undid his belt and unzipped his flies, pushing his pants down to free his big hard prick. He was now standing with his back to the end of the bed, so close that the tangle of his clothes stopped against it. I gave him a little push and he fell back on the bed with his legs over the edge. Together, we managed to pull the clothing free, including his shoes and socks, in one untidy bundle. But his prick was now free, and standing proud.

I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled back the sheath of foreskin, revealing the swollen tip, its one eye leaking a tear of joy. I removed the tear with a feather light touch of my tongue, then opened my mouth wide and took in as much as I could of his sturdy length. He gave a little whimper of pleasure. I slid most of it out, held the shaft in one hand and began to lick and suck the knob like the lollipop that it was. I wanted the lollipop's juice, I wanted to suck him until he exploded into my mouth, to drink every drop of his delicious spunk.

He stopped me. He gently took my head in his hands and pulled me off his prick.

"Not yet," he said, "I want to fuck you."

I stood, groped behind to undo the quick-release knickers and sent them to join the rest on the chair. I got onto the bed and spread my legs wide, raising my knees slightly. I gave him my reply;

"Lick my cunt first, then you can fuck me."

He smiled and slowly removed his shirt, the only garment he had left, making me wait for his tongue. When he placed his mouth on me it was like an electric shock, not only had it been far too long since I had enjoyed this most intimate of contacts, I had worked myself up to the point where I could not survive without it. And oh, he was good. He seemed to sense how great was my need, and that he could have finished me in seconds, but he made it last, just teasing my clit then moving his tongue away to lick another part of my gaping sex. He licked, he kissed, he sucked, until every nerve was tingling, crying out for release. He started to use his fingers, rolling the oily lips together while gently caressing my stiff love-button with a fingertip and gently probing my arse with his tongue. This tipped me over the edge and I came powerfully and noisily, my fingers clawing at the sheet beneath me.

Now I wanted his prick, while I was still on the orgasmic high,

"Fuck me now," I demanded.

He was already on his way to do just that, moving between my widespread thighs. I seized his prick with the fingers of both hands and crammed him into my hole, crying out as his sturdy member pushed deep inside. He supported his weight on his arms and fucked me by swinging his hips. I came again, or was it the same come extended? This was exceptional sex. He must have been as desperate for release as I had been, but controlled himself with unusual skill. I wanted to feel the rush of his cum inside me, but more often than not, I cannot feel the spurts, a man's thrusts mask the actual moment of ejaculation. And I do like to feel the spurts, if not in me then on me.

"Come on my tits," I demanded.

He stopped his thrusts, he was deep inside me, and seemed to be confused, perhaps torn between releasing his stream into the place designed for it, and seeing his seed coating my heaving tits. I know from porn that men like to see spunk-coated tits on a woman and imagining that it is theirs doing the coating. With a little groan, he decided. He pulled out, crawled up my body and pressed his sticky shaft against my sternum, lifting my tits to wrap around it, making a surrogate cunt. It was nice, but not what I had in mind.

"Not like that," I instructed, "wank yourself off and spray it on my tits."

He obeyed, all the time making strangled, gurgling noises, quickly jerking his cunt-slicked shaft until he came with a roar, directing the copious stream at my nipples.

I did not want it to be over. There was a risk that he was a one-shot wonder. Unlike women, men need time to recover, and if their interest is not maintained, it is all too easy for them to roll over and go to sleep. I had a plan, pre-determined. I lifted each cum-coated tit in turn, and sucked the spunk from each nipple, gathering the salty sauce with my tongue where it could be reached and massaging the rest into my still swollen globes. He watched fascinated at this lewd act, and it seemed to be working, his prick had lost its rigidity, but was still tumescent. We both new that with a little work, it could be made to rise again. What he did next, however, was completely unexpected. He leaned down and cleaned his own cum from my tits with his tongue. Down lower, I could feel him stiffen against me. Mission accomplished.

I asked him if he would like me to suck it, until it was ready to fire again. He nodded enthusiastically. I positioned him on his back on the bed and went between his thighs as he had when sucking me. The chances of an uncontrolled explosion were now considerably diminished and I was able to suck, lick, kiss and nibble at his cock and balls until my jaw ached. I was ready to have him inside me again, but first I had one more trick that I thought would blow his mind – I rimmed his arse-hole with my tongue and pushed it up the hole as he had mine. At first he flinched, then relaxed and allowed me to provide this most intimate of services. Victorian hang-up perhaps, a man will rim a woman's arse as a prelude to fucking her up it, but will react as he had, if it is done to him, as though he is admitting to homosexual tendencies. The anus is an erogenous zone in men as well as women, why not just enjoy it?

I crawled up his body, trailing my tits along it, until my mouth was over his. I kissed him, my mouth fresh from his prick and arsehole. That would give him something to think about. As much as I wanted to feel his solidity stretching my cunt, I decided to queen him. I lowered my sopping gash onto his mouth and ground myself against him before lifting off slightly to allow space for him to use his tongue. He did not disappoint, his tongue was everywhere and his hands roamed my body, caressing every part that he could reach. I realised that one hand had left the tit it had been fondling, I turned to look in the mirror alongside the bed and was delighted to find that he was wanking himself with the absent hand. I came yet again. He had to use both hands to keep me in position for his questing tongue to finish its task.

I slid down his body to where his prick was waiting for me. He held it upright as I impaled myself on it, bearing down to take it all. He began to thrust, fucking me with violent thrusts, causing my tits to bounce almost painfully. Suddenly, he stopped. He must have been on the point of climax but wanted to delay it. He failed. As we paused motionless, his spunk won the battle for freedom and to my delight flooded into me instead. I felt every gush.

As I recovered, I looked down at him. He was breathing very heavily, as, to be fair, was I. My weight on him probably did not help, I rolled off, disengaging his now limp, wet member, and lay alongside him. We panted together, holding hands, very close. When his breathing became normal, he asked if I would like a drink,

"Just water," I replied.

He rose from the bed and went to the drinks unit where he opened a bottle of water and poured it into two glasses. I was still flat on the bed, glowing from the comprehensive fucking that I had just received. My legs were apart and I could feel his semen inside me. Almost without thinking, I reached down and paddled a finger in the cocktail of juices bubbling within. My clit was still hard, it sent little shocks of pleasure pulsing through me. I used the fingers of one hand to spread my juicy sex-lips, continuing my paddle with the other. He turned with a glass in each hand and did a double-take when he saw me playing with myself. Would it be enough to arouse him for a third round? I began to masturbate properly, I could hear the slurping noises as I worked my fingers deep inside while maintaining stimulus of my clitoris. Each stroke pushed me up the slope towards my summit. I closed my eyes and went for it. When it came, very quickly, the intensity surprised me. A self-induced come is always good, previously it had been a solitary pleasure, being watched seemed to multiply the enjoyment. I howled as the bolts of pleasure racked me. My busy fingers seemed to have unearthed a latent exhibitionist.

I opened my eyes to find him staring in fascination, still with a glass in each hand, but now with a promising erection jutting from his groin. I spread my legs as far as they would go and used both hands to stretch my cunt wide.

"Do you like it sloppy?" I asked.

He responded with a sort of gurgle, put down the glasses and positioned himself in the welcoming bowl of my body and thighs. His prick seemed to find its own way, no guidance required, and he sank full depth into my welcoming cunt. He fucked me as though it would be his last time, each violent thrust causing me to cry out. He growled that he was about to come.

"Do me from behind," I begged him.

He pulled out of me with a grunt of reluctance and I rolled onto my front, pushing my arse up for re-entry, which he achieved in a single wild stab. Then he was away again, making up for time spent outside my clasping hole. His gasps became harsher as he pumped himself towards his orgasm, but I was not finished with him yet. I turned my head to him and said;

"Stick it up my bum, fill my arse with your spunk."

I reached for the tube of lubricant that I always carry in my handbag, not for the purpose of buggery, but as I have explained, I like to be very wet when I masturbate. He maintained a steady stroke into my cunt while he smeared the lube around and inside the other hole, his final destination. I told him to change lanes, he pulled out of one hole and guided his tip to the other, the knob popped in with surprising ease.

"Fuck it," I demanded, "fuck me in the arse."

He drove in without mercy and I cried out in pleasure and pain as his big prick forced the tender flesh open. It hurt like hell, but took me to heaven as he pounded like a machine into the tight, under-used channel of my anus. It was over very quickly, he came, roaring like a bull. My arms, that been supporting the weight of two of us, gave way and we collapsed onto the bed. His prick slipped out and I could feel his come welling back out of my ravaged hole.