My Girl and I

Monday

The girl in the paint store is tall and heavily built. She has an angry face when I first walk in and it doesn't get much better for the first few minutes. She stares at my dress with an expression of amazement, but I tell her what I want and she goes deeper into the shop to find it. I follow at a distance which gives me a nice view of her ample behind.

I pass a few inane remarks in a jovial tone. I mention the weather, which is warm and oppressive, and almost begrudgingly she replies and talks about the chance of thunder. She returns with the colours I have requested and I ask to see a colour chart. She folds one out on the desk between us like a rainbow fan. I lean closer and as we browse through myriad shades I draw in the smell of her body, the underlying trace of sweat masked by perfume. Her breasts hang heavily inside her white shirt. It takes all my will to avoid openly staring at them. Instead I bring her attention to the vibrant ultramarine which the ceiling of the store has been painted. It is an admirable colour for it turns to violet where the spot lights shine upon it. "It is our trademark colour" she tells me with pride in her voice. I realise that she is standing very close to me now and I start to tremble slightly.

By the time I have paid and am leaving the shop, her face wears a beautiful smile.

I can't help myself. I am an incurable voyeur, partly because I am aroused by the sight of such things, but mostly because I am faithful in my heart and I can never act upon my temptations. Fortunately, my girlfriend is far from threatened by my voyeuristic tendencies.

She comes home late, her dress smelling of the day and her sweat, her hair loose and dishevelled. She smiles a tired smile as she enters the apartment and kicks off a shoe.

"How was your day?" I ask. She rolls her eyes and kicks off her other shoe. I watch as she sheds bags, outer garments and her neat little panties. "It was okay. Simon says hi"

Simon - bisexual, charming and annoying. He is one of her oldest friends. Every so often he enters our life, hangs around for a bit then disappears for half a year or so. I can't stand him, but she thinks he's wonderful. She pulls a towel from the shelf and turns on the shower.

I have never had any cause to be jealous, but suddenly I am. This in itself doesn't bother me, but the idea that infidelity is a possibility suddenly does. This is a potent lure that I don't wish to explore and yet now I have an itch that demands scratching. I say nothing of this and instead reach over and hug her. She looks tired, but I don't care. I run my fingers through her hair and begin to kiss her. At first she resists, but then I run my fingers down between her legs and her resistance is suddenly overcome. She is moist. I casually examine her with my fingers. There is no sign of anything untoward. Just a pussy that has been closed in all day, the hairs flattened.

She pushes me down to my knees and presses my face into her cunt, grinding herself against me. She tastes fantastic. I suddenly remember the girl in the paint shop and feel a flush of embarrassment at my own jealousy. Blood rushes to my already flushed face, but the emotional turmoil only serves to heighten my pleasure and my tongue is stretched out and playing with her clitoris with complete abandon. She grips my hair and shivers in a long drawn out orgasm.

Tuesday

Work is over for the day and as we are walking home through the central plaza of the city I become aware of two girls walking slowly ahead of us. The one on the left is dark, possibly Indian or Pakistani. She has long curly dark hair and a short broad figure. Her jeans are tight across her bottom and her upper arms have the heavy fat of a girl who will almost certainly grow much bigger later in life. She is cute, but she is put into the pale by her friend whose beautiful face we see in profile as we get closer. She is a bigger girl still, with a protruding belly and heavy thighs. In many ways she looks a bit like my girlfriend did when she was that age, only she is already as big as my girlfriend is now. I draw her attention to the girl.

"Look at her" I murmur. "What an ass!"

My girlfriend looks and nods. She is seldom interested in other women, unless they are wearing something she desires. "Doesn't she look a bit like you?" I ask.

She looks a second time and shrugs. "Maybe."

We pass by the two young women who are giggling and fiddling about with a smart phone. They remain oblivious of our attention.

"Was I really that beautiful?" my girlfriend asks me a minute later. I pull her to me in a comfortable hug. A thousand thoughts flash through my mind and nearly all of them revolve around the night before and what happened after we showered. The vision of her between my knees returns to me, her face buried between my thighs, her mouth on my body.

"You still are" I happily reply.

Wednesday

We have a friend called Helen who likes to drop by every so often and chat. Invariably she will drink some wine and then entertain us with tales of her latest promiscuities. Since Helen has always been something of a lively young nympho, this has often been to my immense satisfaction, not least since I have long suspected Helen of harbouring an infatuation for my girlfriend and this has fuelled my imagination to no end.

Naturally I have asked my girlfriend if she is of the same opinion and she agrees there is certainly something in Helen's manner that suggests this may be the case. Helen is not the first girl to have displayed such feelings either, several times in the past, lesbians have made passes at my girlfriend, sometimes overtly, other times less so. Invariably I have fantasizes about this, as I find lesbians to be very inspiring.

Helen sits and sips her wine, and sure enough, she is soon telling us about her latest sexual encounters. As often as not, these involve an older couple who Helen has been seduced by on several occasions, but today she talks about a young man who she has been seeing.

I am not particularly attracted to men, but I must admit that hearing such lurid tales makes me harden.

I have sometimes imagined myself licking Helen's nice plump ass whilst her face is pressed into my girlfriend's pussy.

Thursday

She comes by where I work and I immediately know what she's looking for. At first I have to wait until other people have finished greeting and exchanging opinions but eventually we are alone in my office and I regard her with a questioning look. I'm not going to ask. If she wants it badly enough to seek me out then she wants it enough to ask for it, even if she does so without words.

"I want my slut" she whispers in my ear.

I pull back my head and look into her eyes. I am already hard. She says nothing else and doesn't react to my wide and surprised eyes. Is she playing a game? She isn't I realise. She's provoking me. Now I have to find a way to give her what she wants.

There is an out of the way toilet at the back of the stock room. It is very seldom used. There is plenty of space with a large counter and a wash basin. The only problem is the reverberations caused by our voices but she solves that problem when she opens her bag and produces her strap-on cock. She soon has it in my mouth and after that I make very little noise.

The stock room is out of the way but it's not that far away from the office. I feel I should point this out, when suddenly I hear voices. I freeze, but she doesn't. She keeps moving herself into my mouth, gripping my hair with her fingers. I kneel immobile, listening to the voices of two of my colleagues, wondering what the consequences of discovery might be, even as I feel my excitement mounting.

She is merciful however, or perhaps the possible consequences limit her behaviour for she remains silent throughout, but for a heavy breathing through her nose.

When the voices fade away, she tells me to turn around because now she wants me from behind. Excited, I stand up and wriggle out of my skin-tight jeans. It has been almost a fortnight since she last fucked me. She makes a sound of approval when she sees I am wearing the pink silk knickers she bought me. She produces a small tube of lube and I feel her fingers deftly apply it to my already quivering hole.

She enters me softly, reaching up to cup my chin and tilt my head back. She pushes herself all the way in and then begins a slow steady rhythm. "Make yourself cum whilst I'm in you" she whispers. I can't reply. I'm already stroking myself, my legs quivering with the pleasure. I don't want it to stop, but I can't hold it back.

Friday

She looks in my eyes and softly says "You need to lick me."

This is interesting as we were sitting on the bus and although there weren't too many people around, I feel a sudden rush of warmth to my face.

She laughs and leans against me.

"You don't have to do it right now"

Just as well I think for one old gentleman has looked back over his shoulder. Has he heard?

I'm not an exhibitionist, and neither is she, but she doesn't quite have the same attitude towards being watched that I have. Perhaps I'm old fashioned but I prefer privacy.

She doesn't ask we be watched, but she does like the risk of detection and today is apparently another of these days where she is feeling adventurous. Thankfully I haven't been called upon to perform on public transport, but once we reach the inner city she steers us towards the Music Hall.

It is a large white building with an impressive glass facade. Within is a cafe, multiple open levels with art on display and two large concert halls. To my surprise, we make our way to the ticket counter and she steps forward and accepts two pre-ordered tickets. The boy working on the ticket counter smiles at me, then suddenly frowns when he realises I'm not what he thought I was. Curiosity shows in his eyes but we are already walking away.

I had no idea we had come to see a performance.

"What are we here to see?" I ask.

"You'll see" she grins.

We hang our coats; turn off our phones and she leads the way to the smaller of the two halls.

"Is there something you've forgotten?" she asks with an arch look. I search my mind but nothing springs forth. I shake my head.

There are very few people in the hall and we were seated to the rear. On the stage are a single chair and a music stand.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I ask as we make ourselves comfortable. I can't but help notice that there are only a handful of other patrons. "What is this?"

"Just a cello recital" she answers and passes me a folder.

The lights dimmed.

A cello recital? I think. What on Earth?

A short, plump Asian woman walks on to the stage and we all clap dutifully. Some of the people at the front even stand up.

"Who is this?" I ask as I peer from the folder to the stage. Her name, which is Helga Jannsen doesn't ring any bells. I look at my girlfriend in the dark and catch her watching me.

Helga Jannsen begins to play her cello. According to the folder she is playing Bach's Suite number one and she is very good. I settle back to enjoy it.

The next piece is also by Bach but totally unfamiliar to me. I might have paid more attention to it, but my girlfriend's hand interrupts my train of thought when she reaches across and begins to caress me. I glance about the hall but no one is looking in our direction except for Helga Jannsen but I realise that since she is bathed in light, and we are far back in the hall, then she probably can't see us at all.

Deftly, and I am impressed by just how good she is at it, she opens my jeans and squeezes her hand down inside. My hardening penis is still inhibited by the press of fabric, but by repeatedly licking her fingers she softly rubs the tip until I felt the strain of my erection pressing against its constraints. Looking about once more, I ease my hands down and slowly push my belt line over my hips.

This is not easy even with the spacious chair in which I am sat.

The next problem quickly arises (literally). Once free of my jeans, my small penis stands pale and proud in the dark and I feel extremely exposed. Then she begins to work it with her fingers, gripping and squeezing and soon I am soaked with a good flow of pre-cum. In the pauses between the strokes of Helga Jannsen's cello, I can distinctly hear the moist sounds of my stimulation.

Masturbation in a public space is not one of my fantasies, but I am her submissive little slut and having control over me is one of hers. She loves to see and hear my helpless reactions whilst she does what she wants and although I can never know how far she will take it, I place my trust in her. It quickly becomes obvious that this is why we were attending a cello recital. The music is both soft and voluminous enough to mask my heavy breathing, but only so long as I keep some my self-control which isn't easy for me not least as my girlfriend has become something of an expert in the use of her finger tips. Within the space of less than two minutes my body is arched with tension and my hips are pressed as far forward as they can go without my sliding onto the floor.

I realise that although I am highly aroused, and despite my certainty that no one can see me, the public nature of my torment means that I probably will not be able to reach an orgasm. Disappointment is beginning to flood my brain when she takes me by surprise once again. Just as I reach the point where I can no longer maintain my exertion and am on the verge of collapse, she bends forward and takes me into her mouth.

In full view of Helga Jannsen, if she but opens her eyes and peers against the glare of the stage lights, I come in a silent, breathless eternity. Stars flash and whirl before my eyes whilst my body steadily pumps a long stream of cum into her mouth. My fingers are gripping the arm rests tightly and it is all I can do to not let out a scream.

It takes a good five minutes before I regain my composure enough to pull my clothing back together. During this time, she sits watching the stage with a big smile on her face.

Half an hour later we leave the hall and collect our coats.

"I still don't know what it was I have forgotten" I admit.

"It's our anniversary" she replies.

I stop in my tracks and smack my forehead.

"I forgot" I gasp.

"Don't worry" she smiles. "You still owe me that lick."

Saturday

"So how about a quickie?" she asks, waving her strap-on at me. My body starts to move involuntarily at the sight of it.

"I have a client coming over in a minute" I reply.

"How long?" She counters.

I glance at my laptop "About twenty minutes or so, but he is often late".

"That's plenty of time" she laughs.

She bends me over a chair in my room, and within thirty seconds she has pulled on her cock and lubed it. I am moaning with happiness, angled so I get the full effect of my penetration.

"Oh god, I fucking love fucking you like this" she whispers - her voice hoarse with lust.

I can't reply because I am already lost in the sensation. I hear my voice making inarticulate noises, high pitched and feminine. I feel like I am burning with happiness.

Only a hand full of minutes later, I can see her in the kitchen, making tea and enjoying the smell on her fingers whilst I am opening the door to my client and making sure to keep my front to him since my ass is oozing lube into my panties and probably leaving a wet stain on my jeans.

Sunday

It's been a week like none other but today is one of those days where I ponder upon her body and what I'd like to do to it - to her. I feel the urge to run my tongue deep into the folds of her vagina, letting the taste of it fill my mouth and my mind. I want to press my face in between her thighs and feel the warmth of her body envelope me. The hunger to push myself into her is all consuming in the frustration of having to wait until she is available. Anticipation builds within me, and lust confuses my faculties. I cannot work, nor think about anything but her. Eventually I surrender to my passion and go to her. She looks up from her computer and smiles.

Looking up at her as she enters me, looking at the wide expanse of her belly, the width of her hips - I let my mind be enveloped by her size and beauty. She is like the Earth Goddess Gaia, all enveloping, all embracing; physically, mentally, emotionally. She fucks me, riding my body slowly, grinding her latex cock into me with studied attention. I inhale deeply and the scent of our bodies is like a mind numbing caress. I am hypnotized, mesmerized, intoxicated.

How can I not love this? This is life in its absolute form!