The Other Side of The Green Sofa

I didn't want a stand up fuck, I wanted him to make love to me, so I let him soap my breasts while I fondled his balls. I then picked out a new razor and shaved the fuzz from my mound before turning the razor on him, lifting his cock to gently denude his genitals of hair.

Andy seemed to like this and his eyes never left my hand as the razor slid around wrinkled testicles, taking away every last hair.

Somehow we managed to avoid having sex in the shower, despite his engorged member desperately seeking out what it desired, constantly sliding between soap covered cheeks, popping between slippery legs and pressing upward, but never finding acceptance or relief. I was managing to heighten our desire, to prolong that exquisite stage before penetration, where prolonged temptation fuels intense desire.

Still naked, I quickly ran downstairs, Andy's footsteps hammering behind me.

I just managed to get to the living room when he pounced on me, our naked bodies falling heavily to the floor in a giggling heap.

I briefly felt like a teenager playing around with her first boyfriend, until he broke the spell by making a suggestion.

"Would you be OK if I filmed us? Just so that I can remember how great we were together, for the day when we both drift apart to fuck someone else."

This wasn't what I was expecting, but I nodded, without saying anything, not sure how to respond to this unwanted interruption.

At that moment, I should have realised that Andy was not as wrapped up into our brief relationship as I was. My mind was full of desire for him, to spread my legs and kiss him softly whilst he impregnated me, that was the only thought in my head.

Clearly he had other things on his mind and had probably arrived at my door with a plan to film us having sex.

He leapt up, grabbed his jacket and dashed out to his car, leaving me wishing I had said no. In truth I didn't want to be the subject of an amateur porn clip, but the thought that he might walk out, leaving me in a heightened state of arousal, made me silently agree.

Closing the door behind him, I looked around and realised that I wanted to de-personalise my house, so walked round taking family photos from the walls and moving furniture around, clearing the space around the sofa to leave only blank walls behind.

Loud knocking roused me from my slightly petrified state and I realised that an almost naked man with an erection was standing at my front door.

Andy burst back in with a tripod, a small digital camera, a portable light and one of those umbrella shaped reflectors.

I was expecting him to somehow use a smart phone, but he had come fully equipped and clearly made a habit of filiming his conquests.

Stupidly, I had given in to his requests and patiently sat back on the sofa, watching him set up the equipment.

This sudden desire to film our coupling drained all desire from me, but I noticed Andy looking hungrily back at me, his cock stiffening again as he asked me to pose for him.

Instead I suddenly felt coy and wrapped my arms around my breasts, pushing my hands between my legs in an attempt to hide my nakedness from the camera.

As he busied himself adjusting and checking the camera and setting up the light, my attention was fixed on his manhood. he was half erect and his genitals were swinging around as he moved from one side of the camera to the other. This was something I had not done before and I had time to study his naked body. He had pale skin and a skinny body, unattractive in the harsh light of my living room coupled with the light that now blinded me. But his cock fascinated me, remembering how it felt the first time he pressed it into me, the first strange cock that had filled me since before I married. I wanted to feel that again, but strangely knew that it would never feel the same again and had the feeling that this would be our last time together. He would film this and then move on to another middle aged woman with a desire for sexual adventure.

As I sat, stupefied by his growing member, I knew that I didn't really care. At that moment, all I wanted was to feel a man inside me, a man who wanted me for all the wrong reasons. He didn't love me, nor I him, but I knew that he desired me and wanted to fuck me so much that he was visibly aroused at the thought, in a way that no man could hide, his engorged penis betraying his thoughts.

This man, and others on the dating site, looked at me and had carnal thoughts. His body was pumping blood into his cock, engorging it to allow him to push it into my inner depths, exciting us both before finally releasing his seed into me with the desire to make me pregnant, something I knew was not possible, but secretly desired.

I wanted him, and soon he was spreading my legs and filling me with that massive symbol of manhood, making my stomach churn, my head whirl and eventually tearing me asunder with a body wrenching orgasm as he spurted semen into my inner depths.

Oh how I loved that feeling!

I knew, as his cock slowly slid into me that I was hooked and wanted to do this again and again, knowing that the next time would be with a different man, another cock that I could feel filling me for the first time, bringing me to orgasm in a different way, his body different to this one, maybe more muscular, firmer, darker.

it didn't matter, as long as it was a new experience, a new sexual adventure to excite me and to watch my body excite them as I revealed myself, watching their reaction, knowing that they found me desirable and were desperate to fuck me.

Little did I know at the time, that a few hours later, in a hotel room, a thousand miles away, my husband John would watch me screaming in ecstasy as a young man he knew from his golf club repeatedly fucked his wife on the same green leather sofa that, only hours before, he had been sitting on with a cup of tea made by the same woman he watched in orgasmic delight, begging to be impregnated.