Regrets... Me?... No, not really... But...

I pulled the sodden gusset to one side and felt her dampness. I found the soft, liquescent cleft of her dripping, wet pussy and with no resistance whatsoever, I slid my finger into her cunt. Then I added a second one and began to slowly finger fuck her slippery snatch.

Her head flipped back, her eyes rolled into her head and in some in some kind of post orgasmic daze, she rocked back and forth on my fingers.

A soft, guttural moan began somewhere inside Debbie's body and rose to a crescendo as my dual finger fucking brought her to another crashing orgasm. Warm juices erupted from her pussy and washed over my hand, splattering onto my lap and soaking my pubic hair.

As her second orgasm subsided, Debbie decided to take control and closed her hand around my aching cock. She rubbed it, keeping it alive and asked me to remove my fingers. I felt her guide my cock to her pussy entrance and she pushed a little of it inside her.

When she felt she had me placed properly, she slid her body down and impaled herself upon my erection.

"For fuck's sake!" she exclaimed. "That feels fucking fantastic! I have never felt so full in my life. You are in so deep that I can feel your head nudging my cervix, I swear it."

She began to bounce up and down on me.

"Oh shit, what the hell..." she exclaimed. "What a cock...what a fucking cock!"

All of sudden, Debbie stopped, went rigid and another guttural moan emitted from her. I felt her pussy muscles gripped vice-like around my girth and then relax. This was followed by a burst of liquid that squirted along the full length of my penis, into my lap and over my scrotum.

My balls were aching to emptied and I told her that I needed to come too.

"You can't come inside me, because I'm not on the pill," she said, breathlessly. "Tell me when you're ready to come and I suck you off the rest of the way."

I was starting to get uncomfortable in the position we were in and asked her if I could fuck her from behind. She loved the idea and jumped off my lap straight away.

As she tossed her sodden, cum covered panties onto the couch, I caught a glimpse of her pubic bush. It was as blonde as the hair on her head and luxuriously thick. But only as far as her labia. They appeared to have less or no hair on and I could make out her hardened clitoris as it poked from beneath its hood.

She positioned herself on the carpet, facing the TV, her arse in the air. I stood up and knelt behind her.

For the first time that night, I took in the beauty of her bottom. From the position I was in, her butt cheeks formed a heart shape and the crevice that parted them was punctuated two thirds of the way down by a very cute looking anus.

I was also able to see the slippery bulb of her vulva from this position too. Pussy juice dripped for her open lips and glistened on the wispy pubic hairs that covered her perenium.

My cock was like a rod of iron and pointing straight from my body at a forty-five degree angle. I guided it, with my hand, to opening of her soaking pussy and in one movement slid into her, all the way up the hilt. I gripped her hips and thrust back and forth into her.

"I still can't believe your wife has lost interest in a monster like you have," she said. "You are fucking me sooooooooooo gooooooooooood!..."

Another orgasm and more juice splattered against my thighs, soaking me and the carpet beneath us.

"Just...keep...on...fuc...king...me...this...way...Don't...fuc...king stop!" she said, in between thrusts.

I could feel my semen rising up my shaft.

"I'm going to come in a moment, " I announced.

Debbie pulled away from me and turned around, still on all fours.

I was stood up as she gripped my hard phallus and stuffed it into her mouth. I felt my member slide to back of her throat as she continued to suck me hard.

I couldn't hold back any longer and dumped a massive load into her mouth. Spurt after spurt, ribbon after ribbon. I couldn't stop.

Debbie's eyes grew wide as she fought to take everything down. I couldn't believe I had stored so much up. I placed my hands either side of her head and held on as my tsunami sized orgasm washed over me.

I finally came to as stop and Debbie pulled my twitching cock from her mouth .

After swallowing, Debbie said, "Fuck. You really had a lot there. You must have been storing that up for years."

We both bathed in sweat and bodily fluids and agreed that I needed to shower before I went home.

But even in the shower, it didn't end and I fucked her to three more orgasms, before she let me come all over her tits. Thankfully, I had dumped my largest load in her mouth and most of what I showered her with ended up on the shower floor.

We dried each other off and dressed.

Debbie slipped into her pyjamas and tossed her cum stained underwear into the washing machine.

"Would you like another coffee before you leave?" she asked.

I declined as it was getting late and questions would most certainly be asked if I didn't head home.

Fast forward to a couple to weeks later and this actually happened, I passed Debbie on the street. She was with an older woman, possibly her mother I thought. She passed me and didn't even look up to see me. I never saw her again after that.

SUSIE (Fact..)

Towards the end of the 80's, I was working as an entertainer, at a local hotel.

Susie was one of the bartenders there.

She was a very attractive girl. I would guess that she was two or three younger than me. She was about 5'8, with shoulder length brown hair. Her hazel coloured eyes sparkled when she smiled and she always dressed nicely. Not tarty, like some female bartenders. Susie was classy. Always a hint of, but never showing everything.

She had a terrific sense of humor which was what attracted me in the first place, but I always assumed that I was out her league.

Strangely enough though, guys whom I assumed would be her type were regularly given their marching orders, whenever they tried to come onto her. These were the Porche and BMW crowd. Smooth talkers, with fast cars, looking for equally fast women, for sex with no ties.

Susie was not into that.

She once told me that money, glamour and glitz never did it for her and found those kinds of guys repugnant and sad.

"They're the type that end up going home alone to "Five Finger Freda".

I admit it took me a minute to get what she meant.

Over the course of the month that I worked at the hotel, we built quite a rapport. She worked three or four shifts a week and I was on stage six nights a week. On the days that she wasn't there, I found that I actually missed her, despite me being married. Her presence in the room brightened it for me and made working there bearable.

One night, a night that Susie was working her shift, she motioned me over to the corner of the bar.

"I have a favour to ask you," she said.

"Go on," I replied. "What's up?"

"My car is in the repair garage and I've been asked to work to closing," she began. "I don't fancy getting a taxi so late at night and so I was wondering if I could trouble you for a lift home."

Susie had told me before where she lived and it was on my way home, so I said I would be happy to. She had told me that she shared a house with a friend, who was a nurse at the local hospital and she worked mostly on the night shift.

My final set finished an hour before her shift did and so I sat at the end of the bar, nursing a whisky, waiting for her to quit.

I watched her work. She had a way with her customers. Despite her obvious attractiveness, which could be intimidating, her beguiling smile disarmed anyone who approached her and they seemed completely at ease. She chatted to them, both men and women, and laughed at jokes both good and horrendously bad.

The hotel didn't require its bar personnel to wear uniforms, like the waiters in the restaurant and so tonight, Susie was wearing a summer dress, floral patterned in soft pastille colours and flared out just below her knee. It was a warm summer night and as such, Susie was bare legged too. her feet encased in white pumps. Her shoulder length hair was tied up at the sides with clips. She wore little make up, from what I could see. Soft ash coloured eye shadow and rose red coloured lip stick.

My admiration of her was interrupted by of the BMW crowd, who clearly had one too many drinks. He was dressed in white shirt and trousers and a blue blazer. Slopping his pint across the bar, in front of me, he slurred his words as he spoke.

"She's out of your league mate." His beer scented breath assailed my nostrils as he moved in closer. "I know this cos I'm taking her home tonight."

I didn't reply. There was little point. I knew that I was giving her lift home but he didn't need to know that. It may have added fuel to a fire that didn't even need to start. Even if he had the remotest of chances with Susie, I doubt that he would have been able to drive a car, or even get an erection.

When he realised he was wasting his time trying to goad to me, he pushed himself up from the bar, uttering the word, "wanker" under his breath and teetered off back to his equally wasted mates, leaving me to shake my head in disbelief.

As we drove to Susie's place, she asked me about the drunkard. I told her that he was trying to get rise out of me by telling me he was going to take her home.

"He got that wrong then," she replied, laughing.

It wasn't long before we arrived at her house, which was a bungalow.

As she opened the passenger side door, she asked, "Fancy coming in for a night cap?"

I switched off the engine and said, "Yeah, why not."

Upon entering the front door, I found myself in a large open plan dining room cum lounge.

Susie walked straight into the kitchen, which was a straight walk from the front door. She opened the fridge as I closed the front door.

The air in the room was a little stale, as if the windows had not been opened all day. To my left was the lounge area. A large couch was placed in front of a bay window, whose windows were adorned with net curtains and peach coloured drapes. The couch was a three cushioned piece of furniture, upholstered in a floral pattern. The same upholstery adorned the two spacious armchairs that were set in front of it. A smoked glass topped, oval coffee table, on a metal frame, was set between the furniture.

There had been a fireplace along the left wall, but it had been long since boarded up and in the absence of any other kind of fire, I assumed the house was heated by a central heating boiler and radiator combo. A TV set was in one corner, close to the couch and on the other wall there was a bookshelf, overstocked with all kinds of books, most of which seemed to be medical books.

At the other end of the room there was a rectangular oak dining table and six chairs. The dining table had a bowl of fruit set upon it and a low hanging light dangled from the ceiling directly over the table.

The carpet was a thick shag-pile type.

Susie came back into the room, looking very apologetic and holding two glasses of water.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I thought we had some white wine left over, but I was wrong." She offered me a glass. "Water is all there is, I'm afraid."

I told her that it as fine as I wasn't very thirsty anyway.

We sat down. Me on one of the armchairs and Susie on the couch opposite me.

We chatted over a range of subjects. She was not from the area and moved after her last relationship ended.

"Lucy, my housemate," she began. "I've know her since junior school and we've been friends ever since. I needed a place to crash. I couldn't go home to my folks so she let me stay here."

"Why couldn't you go home?" I asked.

"My parents never approved of me moving in with Steve, my last boyfriend," he replied. "He was much older than me, 33 and I was only 18 at the time."

"Not judging, Susie, but that's quite an age gap," I interrupted.

"It didn't seem like it at the time," she replied. "But I guess my head wasn't screwed on correctly. He was my first, you know."

I nodded.

"He seemed so much more mature than the boys I knew I should be dating," she continued. "But I wasn't interested in them. I wanted something more."

"So why did the relationship break up?" I asked, tentatively.

"It was over something so stupid," she replied, wringing her hands. "But if I think about it, I suppose the signs were always there. I just chose to ignore them."

What do you mean?" I asked, feeling like a therapist.

"He always told me that his days as a party animal were over, after he met me," she began. "He said that after he met me, he had no reason to ever go out again."

It seemed logical to me.

"Of course we went out to dinner, occasionally, but we never seemed to do anything fun," she continued. "We would spend most nights watching telly or having sex."

My eyebrows rose at the last statement, but I don't think Susie noticed.

"I won't complain about the sex," she continued, smiling, coyly. "He was very good at it. But then again, I had no one to compare him with because he was my first and only:"

I almost sensed what was coming next, but I let her carry on with her story.

"One Saturday night, I begged him to take me to a club, but he refused saying that he was tired after a heavy work week and all her wanted to do was relax," she continued. "We got into a terrible fight over it, with me calling him a boring old fart."

I let a small smile crease my lips. Susie saw this and started to laugh.

"Stop it!" she said. "This is serious, not funny."

I apologised and Susie continued.

"I'm not proud of what I've done, but I suppose you could say that it was on the cards," she said. "He finally gave in and told me that if I wanted to go out, then he wouldn't mind, as long as I called him to pick me up and didn't stay out too late."

"That sounds reasonable," I replied.

"Yes it does, now, but then it felt like my dad giving me a curfew," she replied.

"It just made me more angry. I got changed into my most daring of outfits and slammed the door behind me as I left."

She went on to say that the club was heaving with people and played great music and the bartenders were really entertaining when pouring the drinks.

"Have you seen that movie, Cocktail?" she asked.

I nodded.

For those who don't know, Cocktail was a movie that came out in 1988 and starred Tom Cruise as a cocktail bartender who find fame, glamour and fortune making drinks in an exotic cocktail bar.

"Well, those guys were like Tom Cruise," she continued. "Tossing their bottles high in the air, catching them and pouring multiple drinks. I was mesmerised."

I was so captivated by her story, I forgot I about the glass of water I was holding.

I took a sip as Susie continued.

"While I was standing at the bar, watching the bartenders, this guy stands next to me and asks if I would like a drink," she said. "So I accepted. He looked quite dishy and seemed about the same age as Steve. I couldn't understand why a guy the same age as my boyfriend had more energy. I was still so angry at Steve."

She continued by saying that this guy, she called Rob, asked if she fancied dancing with him.

"I was there to enjoy myself," she continued, as if trying to justify her actions. "Watching bartenders make drinks was just a part of it. So I accepted his offer of a dance."

She went on to say that the by the time they found a space on the packed dance floor, the music had shifted to slow dance music.

"He asked if I still wanted to dance and I accepted," she continued, looking down at the floor. "He took my hand and pulled me in close to him. It felt naturally to nuzzle into his neck and let him hold me close. I knew what I was doing. I wasn't drunk but I wasn't thinking about Steve either."

She stopped for a moment, to wipe a small tear that was making its way down her cheek.

"If this going to make you cry, maybe you should stop," I said, as comfortingly as possible.

"No," she said, wiping away the tear. "It feels good to get it out in the open."

She continued by saying he held so close that she could feel his erection through his trousers, pressing against her stomach.

"It felt huge," she said.

I shifted positions in the chair as my own penis began to take uncomfortable interest.

"It really began to turn me on," she continued. "I kissed him, long and deep. I know that it was wrong, but it felt so right, at the time."

He asked her to go home with him and she accepted.

"All ideas of calling Steve flew right out of the window," she said.

She said that once back his place, they made crazy passionate love.

"Well actually, it was fucking," she admitted. "There was no love involved at all. He did things to me that Steve would have never done and I loved every minute of it."

She admitted that she ended up spending the night and got a taxi home, early the following morning.

"I was so scared about what Steve would say," she explained. "I decided to tell him that I met a friend and stayed at her place because things got a little later than I had expected."

"And Steve bought that?" I asked.

"In the beginning he did," she said. "I was so relieved, despite that he was pissed at me for not ringing him."

"So what happened?"

"Something that I didn't see coming," she said. "Steve came home from work one afternoon, incandescent with rage."

"Why?"

"It turned out that Rob was a work colleague," Susie continued. "According to Steve, Rob was a slime ball, who loved letting everyone know about his conquests and he chose to tell Steve about the night we spent together."

"Ooops!" was all I could offer.

"Rob had known who I was from the moment he saw me," Susie continued.

"I had never met him, but he'd seen a photo of me that Steve kept on his desk.

He'd had his eye on me for sometime in that club."

"I can only imagine what happened next," I said.

"Steve went ballistic and threw Rob out of his office," she replied. "Then he left work early and drove straight home."

"What happened? Did he hit you?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "He wasn't like that. He simply told me to get out of his apartment and never come back. So I packed my bags and all my belongings and headed for the train station."

"I'm sorry it ended like that," I said. "You still haven't explained why you couldn't go home. Surely your parents would have understood."

"You don't understand," she replied. "I had invested so much time and had so many arguments on the telephone with my mother over what a nice guy Steve was, that to go home after what I had done would have been humiliating."

Her words hung in the air like a shroud, while she silently dabbed her eyes with a tissue she had retrieved from a box on the coffee table.

After a moment or two, she asked, "So, enough about me. Tell me, what are you actually doing here?"

"I'm not sure I understand," I answered. "You invited me in for a night cap, if you remember."

Susie tossed the used tissue into a nearby waste bin.

"Oh, I remember what I said," she replied. "But you are a married man. You could have dropped me at the front gate and driven on home. Why did you accept my invitation? It's two o'clock in the morning. Why aren't you crawling in bed beside your wife?"

I saw where she was going with her line of questioning. So I decided to own up to the truth.

"My marriage is not all that great," I began. "We married young...well, I married young. She's three years older than me."

She nodded silently. Clearly she wanted to hear what I had to say and wasn't going to interrupt. I felt slightly uneasy, for some unknown reason. I suddenly felt as though I was part of an inquisition.

I shifted positions in the armchair, crossing and uncrossing my legs to try and get comfortable.