Jog On

"Booty call?"

"Haha," I laughed. I stepped on the gas and raced over to Bobbi's mansion in record time. I wasn't sure what I would find when I arrived, some kind of plumbing emergency. God, I hated water. It got into everything. But at least it wasn't gas. That shit'll kill you.

I knocked on the front door but there was no reply. Again, I cursed myself for not having swapped numbers with Bobbi on our previous encounter. I tried the handle; the front door was closed but unlocked, which struck me as slightly odd. Maybe she'd left it like that for me. "Bobbi?" I called out as I made my way through the hall, looking round for signs of disaster.

"Up here!" she called back. "Bedroom!"

I clawed my way up the stairs, pace slowed by my sore ankle, and headed round the landing to the master suite, dreading what I might find. The ceiling having fallen in, perhaps, wet plasterboard everywhere? The palatial bathtub overflowing, spilling over the wooden floor, and spoiling the finish? I braced myself for the worst, and pushed the door open. What my eyes found, I certainly hadn't been expecting to see.

A naked pussy and ass, feet still in six-inch heels, as the woman - presumably Bobbi - knelt on the bed, chest heaving; I watched them sway in the triangle framed by her glistening thighs. A ten-inch, fat black vibrator lay on the bed, resting on a sopping mattress. Her face turned to the door as I entered.

"Thank fuck," she said. "Get over here and help me. I need you so bad!"

The guys from work were right after all, I thought. This was a booty call. "I thought this was an emergency?"

She yanked at her arms, and there was a metallic clanking sound. It was then that I noticed she'd handcuffed herself to the metal frame of the bed. Interesting. "I need you to... fucking finish me... the teasing is driving me fucking insane...."

I noted she hadn't asked to be freed. I smiled and started to pace slowly towards her. "Well good afternoon, madam," I said, in my best customer service voice. "I see you have a bit of a leak here. Let me see what I can do about that."

I approached the edge of the bed, knelt, and proceeded to inspect her plumbing with a professional gaze. "Hmmm," I breathed, blowing across her pussy lips, making her jump. "I think this is the source of the leak." I ran my fingers over her thighs, pulling her legs apart slightly more. Her lips glistened with juices. It was all I could do not to run my tongue through her folds and taste her nectar.

I noticed a pink cord running between the bud of her ass and her dripping pussy. "What do we have here?" I asked her. She said nothing, unless you counted the delicate moans. I reached out, hooked my finger behind the cord, and gave a gentle tug. It seemed fairly well anchored. I tugged again and noticed her asshole pucker. You kinky bitch, I thought.

With slow, deliberate movements I pulled at the cord and watched the bead pop out of her asshole, followed by more cord. Bead after bead emerged from her ass, each time accompanied by a satisfied cry or a moan. "Ooohhh, fuuuuuuck...." she sighed, as her rectum slowly emptied and constricted. Eventually the last bead came free; her arms gave way and she collapsed onto the bed.

I now had the beaded cord in my hands, the other end disappearing into her pussy. I gave another gentle tug; there was something heavy on the end. As I took up the slack and felt it pull against her, I could feel the vibrations running back along the cord. I drew whatever was on the end of the cord backwards out of the warm depths of her sex. I could feel it as it reached her entrance, her muscles tightening, wanting it to stay, sucking it back in against my pull. The vibration against her walls, her g-spot, the back of her clit, was more than she could stand. "Nnnnngggggg... oh fuck oh fuck I'm fucking gonna come again oh shit oh shit I'm cumming I'm cumming I'M CUMMING OH FUUUUCK!!!"

I watched her ride the orgasm, her lips twitching and her legs shaking, as the egg worked her over one last time. As the quivering subsided, I heard her whisper "Please, stop..." I took pity on her, and pulled the egg free, discarding it on the floor. She turned her head to me again, face flushed, eyes taking a moment to focus. She looked irresistibly hot.

"I cleared the blockage, madam," I said, reaching for the buckle of my toolbelt. "But I still need to plug the leak." The heavy toolbelt fell to the floor, and I reached for the zip of my fly. Bobbi whimpered, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the crotch of my jeans. "Do you... do you have a big enough tool for the job?"

Stepping out of my boxers, cock in hand, I braced myself at the end of the bed. "I'll manage," I promised, lifting her by the hips back onto her knees, and driving my cock home into her desperate waiting cunt.

"Ohhhh yeaaah, that's what I fucking need..."

I wanted to take it slow, make it last, draw it out. But my balls were heavy and full, and my dick had other ideas. I pounded into her like a jackhammer, things slapping against thighs, balls swinging into her clit with each thrust, as I buried my cock as deep inside as I could go. My hands clawed at her hips, jerking her back against me each time, not caring if I hurt her.

"God yeah, fuck me hard, hurt me you fucking bastard!"

I grabbed her hair, snapping her head back, and was rewarded with a guttural roar ripped from her throat. Abandoning her hips, I reached forward and grabbed one of her swinging tits with my spare hand, the other setting the pace by yanking on her ponytail, and she rocked herself backwards onto my cock with each tug.

"Your cheating pussy feels so amazing! You are such a dirty bitch, I love it."

"Uh-huh! That's right! I'm such a slut!"

"Your loser fiancé doesn't deserve such a hot piece of ass. A cunt like yours deserves to be fucked whenever you want it."

"Yes! I'm a cheating fucking dirty whore bitch!"

She was such a great fuck, her cunt practically sucking at my cock as she worked her muscles over me, that I knew it wasn't going to last long.

"Shout it! You're a nympho who'll fuck anyone who asks!"

"Don't even fucking ask, just take me! Oh fuck, I'm cumming again! Don't fucking stop, make me cum harder!" she ordered. I felt her squirt over my balls, reached down with one hand and played with her clit as she soaked the covers underneath us. I felt that welcome, inevitable pressure building in my balls. I slipped back out of her, pushed on one hip to spin her over onto her back, and crawled up her sweaty, gorgeous body, pumping my cock in my hand.

"Fuck me up," she ordered, as I jerked my meat. It was too much; rope after rope of hot sticky cum shot from by aching balls and splashed over her tits and face. "Make me yours," she said, scraping my cum from her face and scooping it between her ruby lips. As my cock stopped spurting and began to merely dribble, she grabbed my ass and pulled me up to her head, sucking my tip into her mouth. "So thirsty," she said, drinking the dregs of my cum straight from the source, and thoroughly cleaning me up.

///

My sleep started to suffer. Every waking moment, my thoughts were full of her. Work and booze and chores kept it at bay, but by night my mind was free to obsess over her every curve, her every movement, every word she said. There was no use denying it, I had fallen seriously in lust with this amazing, insatiable woman.

Nearly every day, she'd summon me. There would be some small job that needed doing - a tap was dripping, an electric socket was loose, or a lightbulb needed changing. Some excuse to call me round, now my ankle was healed and physiotherapy was no longer a credible cover story. So dutifully I'd turn up at her palatial home, spend a little time on some trivial task she could have easily resolved herself, and spend the day fucking her lithe, sexy body and mind. She'd open the door in a loose silk robe and nothing else, and I'd fall to my knees and lap at her pussy until she'd beg me to stop, then she'd drag me to the shower and I'd lift her effortlessly in my arms, pin her to the wall and fuck her hard against the tiles until my legs would nearly give way, the water beading and rolling over her pert breasts which I'd feast on with my eyes and lips.

We'd take Luna out to the woods, throwing her ball and running the husky ragged, then Bobbi would take my hand and walk me deeper into the woods, pull me to her against the trees and wrap her legs round my waist as we made love in the open air while the dog recovered.

Occasionally I'd return to that conversation - about her future husband, about whether she was sure. She'd just dismiss my concerns for her happiness. Said I shouldn't worry, she knew what she was doing. At first, I thought I was happy enough with that. What we had was fun; I was content to be her fuck toy, lucky to have met a woman with such an insatiable appetite. Who knew where it was headed, or how it would end. I could just enjoy it while it was happening and let the future worry about itself.

///

"Suit up," she said on the phone. "I'm taking you out tonight."

She wouldn't be drawn on where we were going or what we were up to. I dusted off my one weddings-and-funerals black suit, dug a shirt and tie out of the wardrobe and polished my posh shoes with my socks. But I needn't have bothered - once I saw her, I realised nobody would notice what I was wearing. I could have been naked in clown makeup and shoes, and nobody would have seen me at all.

She climbed out of the sports car, bare legs a mile long, and stood. The white dress was so tight it looked painted on, her full breasts impossibly contained by the off-the-shoulder number, the skirt so short it barely covered her peachy ass. A silver necklace pooled in her cleavage; earrings dangled from her lobes, her long hair pulled back and tied up to show off her graceful neck.

She sashayed over to me, placed a kiss on my cheek. My mouth was too dry, I could barely manage a rather weak "Wow".

"Come on," she said, heading back to the car. I took the passenger seat, watched as she lowered herself back behind the wheel, the dress lifting over her bare butt cheeks as she sat. As she drove off, I couldn't stop gawping at her. My eyes were drawn to her bare thighs, watching her as she drove, as she worked the pedals. My eyes slid up those thighs, caught a glimpse of her tiny sheer G-string panties. I wanted nothing more than to tuck my tongue through the lace and draw them down her legs...

"Wake up, slumberboy, we're here."

I shook my head, trying to climb back to reality from my daydream. We were parked outside an exclusive restaurant. I took her arm, and we walked the short distance to the doors. The maître d' escorted us inside and showed us to a table. It was exquisitely presented - floor-length white tablecloths, crisp linen, tables laden with enough cutlery to fight a minor war. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and golden candelabra adorned each table. A quiet muttering of voices from the tables, spaced far apart so as to afford the diners their privacy, was the only sound - until the pianist took his place at the grand and gently infused the air with soft music.

We sat, talked, shared. Bobbi asked about my past, and I spoke freely about my upbringing, so different from her own. This was her world. I felt out of my depth. The waiter rescued me by handing over a menu. Bobbi barely glanced at hers before putting it aside, knowing already what she would order. Clearly, she came here regularly. With her husband? I read over the courses... "posh food", I realised, but you couldn't go wrong with a steak. No prices, I noticed. Money clearly didn't matter to this place's usual clientele.

As we ate, talked, laughed, I was captivated by her. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. The way her breasts rose and fell as she breathed, the dress leaving very little to my overactive imagination. Whiteness symbolising purity, but she was hardly virginal. My horny angel.

"What do you fancy for dessert?" she asked, a wicked smile on her lips.

"Um..."

"I was thinking something salty-sweet perhaps, something creamy?"

"Er, the salted caramel meringue perhaps?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Oops... I appear to have dropped my fork. Would you excuse me?" As I watched, she slipped from her chair, onto the floor, and disappeared under the table.

"No!" I whispered. "Bobbi!"

"Sssh," I heard her whisper back. "Don't draw attention!"

I sat, eyes flicking round the room, checking to see if anyone was looking our way. Everyone seemed focused on their own conversations.

I felt Bobbi nudging at my legs, pushing my knees apart, crawling between my legs. I tried to keep my expression blank as I felt her hands dragging at the zip on my suit, my hard-on springing free. I slid down slightly on my chair, felt her rub my cock between the firm globes of her soft breasts, then her warm lips closing over my tip.

As she licked and sucked my dick, hidden under the table of the posh restaurant, I sat rigid in my chair, glancing nervously round at the other patrons. I had a death-grip on the table, trying to stop myself trembling, to stop crying out in delight and desire as she expertly feasted on my manhood. Eventually I had to take out my phone, pretend to be doing something - waiting for her to return from the bathroom, perhaps - but my eyes couldn't focus on the screen. God, she was so talented with her mouth, I couldn't last much longer.

"Is everything to your complete satisfaction, sir?"

I looked up to find the maître d hovering behind me.

"Um, yes, thank you..." I spluttered, as Bobbi hummed and licked at that sensitive spot.

"Well, if there is anything we can do to make your evening more enjoyable, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Okay, thank you..." I said, feeling the familiar pressure building in my balls. As he turned to leave, I reached my hand under the table to cup Bobbi's head, as I let go and pumped my creamy dessert straight into her waiting mouth. Trying to remain silent as my whole body twitched in the chair and the other diners carried on oblivious made this one of the most intense orgasms I can remember.

Presently Bobbi emerged from the table, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin. "You know what," she said, "I feel quite full after all. Maybe we should head home."

My head was swimming as we headed for the exit. Bobbi took a quick look round over her shoulder and hustled me down a side corridor and behind a door, sliding a bolt closed. "Fuck, I am so horny," she said, hopping up onto an ornate sideboard and pulling her legs up so her feet rested beside her ass, the G-string now transparent with moisture. My cock was still recovering from her expert under-table ministrations of a moment before - but I could at least return the favour. I pulled a chair over to sit facing her sex, and feasted on her soft wet flesh. Sliding my tongue between her smooth shaved lips, I lapped at her nectar, bringing her own orgasm strong and fast, drinking her down as she held my face in her lap, screaming her pleasure in the privacy of the side function room, while her juices - mixed with my saliva - stained the antique furniture.

///

The hot tub was warm, bubbles playing over my body as I lay back, beer in my hand and sun warming my damp skin. The immaculate gardens of Bobbi's mansion lay before me, lawn billiard-table smooth bordered by gorgeous flowers of every colour of the rainbow, box hedges framing pathways through the lush verdant greenery.

Paradise, I wondered? Or merely a gilded cage?

Bobbi stepped from the conservatory, breasts swaying in her tiny bikini, as she carried a silver tray towards the jacuzzi - a bowl of white grapes and a bucket of ice carrying a bottle of champagne, along with a couple of crystal flutes.

"Are we celebrating something?" I asked. She just smiled, placed the tray on the edge of the tub, and climbed in. I watched, enraptured, as she leant forwards - those wondrous breasts of her swinging forwards, her long legs disappearing into foam. She handed me a flute; we clinked our glasses and took a sip. She nestled in beside me and snuggled against my shoulder, content.

"So, where's this surprise you promised?" I asked, as we held each other in the warm bubbly water.

"It'll be here soon enough," she promised.

Of course, it wasn't long before our hands were roaming. She stroked my cock to attention as we kissed, my thumb brushing her nipple as she swung her leg over my lap.

"You like my bikini?" she asked between breaths.

I shrugged. It just about covered her nipples. But her toned body didn't need the support.

"You're right, it is kind-of pointless," she admitted, pulling at the thread tied behind her neck. I drew the fabric from her, dropped it over the side, and pulled her breast to my lips as she settled onto my lap. I slid forward on the chair as she slid her hips forward; she freed my hardness from the swim shorts as I feasted on her tits and slid her soft core over my aching need.

"You're amazing," I breathed, as she rocked over me, easing my need and my worries in the sunshine. We made love gently in the water, not rushing for release but instead enjoying each other's bodies. I was utterly infatuated with her. I had to admit the truth to myself - I was hopelessly, deeply, deliriously in love. I realised, then, that I'd been fooling myself. This wasn't just lust. This woman, this perfect creature, was my match in every way - sexually, physically, emotionally. I had it bad for her. All I had to do was persuade her that her fiancé was a terrible partner, and that she should spend her life with me instead.

Her phone pinged, and she rose from the water, beads of moisture running down her smooth skin, her bare ass and pussy being tickled by the bubbles. She leant over for her phone, and I playfully grabbed for her, rising behind her, and nestling her butt back into my hips with my hardening cock tapping on her pussy. She laughed and wiggled, then freed herself from my clutches. "Your surprise is here," she said, reaching for the tiny fabric triangles of her bikini and throwing my trunks over. Curiously I pulled my feet through the wet fabric and watched, rapt, as she covered the bare minimum of her own succulent flesh.

"You outside, babe?" A man's voice.

"In the spa, honey!" she called back. My eyes bugged out. Surely not?!

My fears were confirmed as a slightly balding man strode out of the house, nondescript and certainly chinless. Non-threatening. Generic, average. He looked over my way, nodded slightly - not in the least surprised by my presence, or indeed concerned that another man was in the hot-tub with his sexy young fiancée in a bikini so tiny as to be pointless.

"Is that him?" he asked Bobbi. She nodded, excited. He turned to me, put out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you." And before I realised what I was doing, I was shaking his hand, with fingers that had been deep inside Bobbi just a few moments earlier.

"What the fuck...?" I started, but Bobbi put her fingers to my lips, to shush me.

"Do you have the papers?" she asked. The man nodded. She beamed, her whole face lighting up. "I love you so much," she told him, and then he smiled too.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" I asked, getting increasingly more uncomfortable.

Then, the man turned his attention to me. "I'd like to thank you for your service," he began. "I realise my wife has quite demanding expectations, and I'm afraid that with all the business travel I have to attend to, I can't always provide the attention to the details that she demands."

I looked at Bobbi, she was just smiling and giving away nothing.

He continued speaking. "I know she has such high, um, strong drive for perfection," he continued. "I understand your work around the house has been more than satisfactory?"