Month: September 2017

Sand and Surf (Part 2)

I was out of commission by the second day of our vacation. I learned that sand and sex do not mix well.  And like most everything I’ve gleaned from life, I learned it the hard way. (No pun intended.)

Wendy was a true friend. She put herself on a voluntary hiatus, so that I would not be the odd girl out. We spent the next couple of days sunbathing. At night, we would go to an all-age dance club.  We would dance the night away and stroll in about 1:00 am. It was good clean fun (for a change) and we both enjoyed it. Sometimes, we would hang out at the hotel pool for a while.

One evening, as we soaked our tired dancing feet in the pool, we were joined by two young gentlemen, John and Tony.  They were from Ohio, on vacation with John’s grandparents. John was 18 and was planning to enlist in the military in the fall. He had red hair and a stocky build. Tony was 19 and had the most intense brown eyes. John was intellectual and witty, which was typically my type. But this time, I wanted Tony.

It was getting late and we didn’t want to push our luck with Wendy’s parents, so we made plans to hang out the next day.  After breakfast, Wendy and I went down to the beach for another day of sunbathing and people-watching. John and Tony joined us that afternoon. We walked down to a small amusement park and spent the rest of the day riding all the rides. It was great fun.

That evening we met up with them for dinner at a seafood restaurant. John’s grandparents insisted on meeting us and treated us all to dinner. Funny, Wendy’s parents didn’t even ask where we were eating. His grandparents were very nice and asked a ton of questions. I was always at ease with the parental types since I’d duped my own parents for years. They left the meal thinking we were such nice girls.

As we say down South, “Bless their hearts.”

We all went out dancing, which was simply an act of foreplay for me. Tony moved well on the dance floor and I could just imagine how he would move in bed. He was of Latin descent and sex oozed from his pores.

“It’s hot in here” he said as the music changed to a slow dance.

I leaned into him, “Yes, it is. I’m thirsty. How about you?”

“Very thirsty” he said. “But I’d rather have something other than what they are serving here.”

I could see where this was going. I played coy, “What are you thirsty for, Tony?” I asked.

“I have some vodka back at the hotel. I just need to get some orange juice for a mixer. Want to walk back with me and get a drink?”

Again, being the dirty little slut I was (and still am) I knew exactly where this was going.

I smiled at him with a mischievous grin, “Sure, Tony. Let’s go have that drink.”

We walked back to the hotel. On the way, he stopped at a convenience store and bought some juice. We walked into the room and he fixed us a drink. I was hoping he’d forget about the drink, and drink me instead. But we tossed back our beverages quickly and he proceeded to make us another. (I really felt like telling him that he didn’t need to get me drunk to fuck me, but he seemed intent on getting a buzz.)

We drank that one a bit more slowly.

He took off his shirt. His tanned skin glistened in the light. I wanted him. Badly.

He leaned over and kissed me. I felt his hands on my skin, moving up my thighs as he reached up my dress. My panties were soaked with desire and he could tell how badly I wanted him.

He pushed his fingers within my folds, feeling my sticky wetness. He pushed farther into my throbbing hole. One finger, then another. Pushing three inside me. I moaned a heavy sigh, as I felt him stretch me. God, I wanted him to fuck me.

He loved watching my face as my greedy cunt grasped his digits. I lost all inhibitions and fell into the moment. Grinding. Pushing. Bucking. Edging closer to an orgasm. Just as I was about to cum, he pulled his fingers out of me and pushed his hard cock inside. He pounded my body with his as he licked his fingers. I leaned up eagerly licked them too, which sent him over the edge. I could feel his cock spasm as he unloaded inside me.

I then pushed my fingers into my ravaged hole and brought them to my lips…slowly and deliberately cleaning his hot load off of each of them as I stared into his eyes. He took my lead and pushed his fingers inside me, putting them to my lips.

“Suck them clean for me.” he said. He watched me take each of his fingers deep within my mouth as I meticulously sucked and licked his seed from them. He was so aroused by this, that he was ready to fuck again in a matter of minutes.

My legs were up on his shoulders when Wendy and John came in. That was awkward, but they didn’t seem to mind, as they were locked at the lips walking towards John’s bed. They were in their own world and didn’t seem to mind that we were there. Tony was not as comfortable with the arrangement.

“Let’s go down to the pool” he said.

“I don’t have my swimsuit with me” I said. We were staying in the same hotel, but I didn’t want to risk waking Wendy’s parents trying to get it.

He looked at me and grinned. “Don’t worry. You won’t need it”

(To be continued)

sexy dance

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

 

The Gift

I’m feeling an ache

A longing between my thighs…

It gives rise to the surprise

I’ve been saving.

Sin craving,

Lust escalating.

Fingers strumming,

Moans humming.

Body writhing,

Can’t contain…

Won’t subside.

Oh Lover, please

Please…

Come inside

Your gift is waiting

gift (2)

Fulfilled

Their cup is full

It overflows

It’s rich and warm

She sips it slow

It’s a taste

She’s tried before

Now it’s sweeter

She longs for more

He fills her cup

Until it overflows

With depth and love

Their passion grows

She drinks him in

He sips her slow

So warm and rich

They overflow

couple coffee

Sand and Surf (Part 1)

Summer 1988

Daytona Beach, Florida.  Summer had just begun and I found myself on vacation with my best friend, Wendy and her family. Her mother had just remarried and the only way she could really go on a “honeymoon” was to take the kids along. So there we were: her mom, new stepdad, little sister, older sister, Wendy and me, all crammed into their new minivan (which looked like a lunchbox on wheels). We ventured down from Georgia to the Florida coast in record time.

Once there, her mother “excused” us to go see the sights.  She also excused her sisters to grab some food. I think she wanted some alone time with her new hubby. Wendy and I put on our bikinis and raced down to the ocean to check out the scene. There were people everywhere. We grabbed some chairs and secured a spot in the sand while we took it all in.

Although it was late in the afternoon, we managed to get a head start on our tans. Please note, Southern girls, (especially back then) were all about their tans. It was a sign of status. It was something you “worked” on. It was something to be achieved. And we were well on our way. In fact, I got a bit too much sun and my shoulders were pink. We headed back to the room to get showered and changed for dinner.

Her family was so different from mine. With my folks, we always had a big production over dinner. Where we were going…how far away it was…who was driving…when we were leaving…and it went on and on. With her family, her stepdad gave us each $20 and told us to grab whatever we wanted.

And we were off again.

This may sound cheesy, no…not “may” sound, it will sound cheesy, but stay with me. Wendy and I looked so much alike that people regularly mistook us for twins. So we often dressed alike, which always drew second glances…exactly what we wanted.  We were almost identical except she was slightly taller and her eyes were a true blue. But I had the C-cups and fuller lips. Dressed in red tanks and white shorts, we hit the strip in search of some fun.

We were approached by so many different guys. Some of them our age, some of them older, some of them MUCH older. They flocked around us. I think most men have some type of deep-seeded twin fantasy. And we loved the adoration. 

There was a pair of young men that seemed to hold our attention longer than the others. They were dental students on vacation from somewhere up north. Aaron was very blonde, with an angular face and dark eyes. He was quiet and pensive. He reminded me of Sting. I could tell there was a darkness underneath his introverted surface, so I gravitated more towards him. His friend’s name was Jeremy. He was muscular, loud and raucous, just how Wendy liked her men. 

We grabbed some food at a local diner and then set out for a nightly stroll on the beach. Wendy and Jeremy walked ahead of us. They were drinking beer and laughing. They chased each other in the water and played around like kids. It was their version of foreplay. Aaron and I hung back a bit. We were in the middle of a long chat about physics (no lie). I was turned on by his intellect. I enjoyed his awkwardness. I knew he had potential to be a lot of fun. The ones who are wound the tightest, usually are. We decided to sit down on an abandoned blanket on the beach and continue our conversation.

“Wendy and Jeremy seem to be having a lot of fun,” he said, motioning over to where they were. Wendy was on Jeremy’s shoulders while he ran into the waves.  He would pretend to throw her into the water and she would squeal for him to stop. They were having a ball. “Are you sure you want to hang out with me? I know I am bit boring compared to him.”

I smiled at him, “No. I am right where I want to be, Aaron. I enjoy these deep conversations.”

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I laid back on the blanket and looked up at the sky. It was truly magical to see the stars like that. I was trying to decipher the constellations, when I felt his mouth on mine.

His kiss was choppy and nervous. He seemed unsure of himself, which made him even more awkward. I reached up and touched his cheek, pushing the hair away from his eyes. He stopped and looked at me. Stared at me, like he’d never felt that type of touch. Then he leaned in to kiss me again, but this time, it was good.

Soon he was on top of me. Right there…on the beach, just like in “From Here to Eternity” but we were far away from the water’s edge.  In fact, we moved back a bit, behind a dune for privacy.  We undressed each other without hesitation, with no worry about our location.  It was pure passion. The kind you have with someone you’ve just met, that you know you’ll never see again. It’s liberating.

I felt him enter me. I could tell he was not as experienced as me, but that was okay. I was accustomed to being the teacher. I guided the rhythm and pushed my hips to meet his. It was so incredibly hot, being out there on the beach and the risk of being caught fueled my fire. I pulled him into my body and flipped positions on him. Being on top gave me even more control. He loved it. He’d never had a woman on top before. He was enamored with my soft, full breasts and teased them relentlessly. He came within minutes of me mounting him. His loud growl could be heard halfway down the shore.

We got ourselves dressed and caught up with Wendy and Jeremy. Both of them were drunk, soaked from the ocean and spent from their little tryst on an empty lounge chair. Aaron and Jeremy walked us back to our hotel and bid us goodnight. It was 3:00 in the morning. Wendy’s parents were sound asleep. We managed to slip into bed unnoticed.

That morning, her mother woke us up early for breakfast. I rolled out of bed, sore and tired. I shuffled to the bathroom and felt like I was on FIRE.  No, not from a sunburn. That would have been far less painful. Sand had migrated into my nether regions during my little jaunt on the beach. Yikes! But that’s what you get when you play in the sandbox, right? 

All of that on the first night of the vacation. There were six more days to stir up trouble…and we made sure we did. beach blanket-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)  

Dried Flowers

You churned the dirt

And planted the seed

From within

You saw her need

Hidden well

Far below

She longed for air

She longed to grow

At first the garden tended well

No worms, no weeds

No petals fell

She sprouted forth

So alive

Blossoms opened

And she thrived

But after time

It all passed

For without air

She’d not last

No food to nourish

Or sun to shine

Planted in a bed

Wasting time

The stem it droops

Her petals dried

The blossoms fall

The flower dies

It’s too late now

To sow the seed

To water, to nourish

To kill the weed

And looking back

Who’s to blame?

The sun, the earth?

Or the lack of rain?

Dick, The Finale

I think it was Julia Child who said, “With enough butter anything is good.”

You know, she was right about that. Although, I will admit that Dick was good without the butter, but the butter made it better. Somehow it made the steamy hot scene, even sexier.

Thankfully we moved from in front of the (hot) stove to the kitchen table. I can still hear the sound of the table scraping on the tile floor from the friction of his rhythmic pace. I can still remember the way he gripped my hips. The way he ravaged me. And I also remember that I loved every second of it.

As he came closer to the edge, he reached around and began torturing my clit with his fingers. I simply could not take all of that stimulation at once and had a sobbing, screaming orgasm, right there, face down on his kitchen table. He came soon after I did, collapsing beside me on the table.

We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Neither of us said anything. My face was tear-stained from the intensity of what had just happened.  He looked at me with such concern, wiping my eyes with his thumb. And without a word, Dick took me by the hand and led me to another part of the house to the guest bathroom. I’d not noticed it before, but this bathroom had a huge claw-foot tub.

He turned on the water and walked out of the bathroom for me to have a bath. I gingerly got into the tub and relaxed in the warm water. I was spent. Completely spent. It was so soothing. The lights were dim, as it was only illuminated by the light from the hallway.  I was exhausted and relaxed. Just as I was about to doze off, he walked in with a plate of eggs and some juice.

He sat on the floor next to the tub and we shared a plate of cold eggs and dry toast. Again, neither of us saying anything. When we were finished, he took the plate back to the kitchen and returned with a towel for me.  I dried off and practically stumbled to his bed. He showered and joined me soon after.

We slept until noon.

I remember the soreness I felt that day. Every muscle in my body ached. It was a good sore. I liked that feeling. Dick woke up, turned on the coffee pot and dressed for his daily run. Every day, he ran at least three miles. It was his drug. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat outside while I waited for him.

When he returned home, I asked him, “So what’s on the agenda today?”

He grinned a devilish grin, and I thought, oh shit…I cannot handle any more sex right now. My legs felt like Jello and I knew I’d probably pass out at the first orgasm.

He said, “Hmmm, Tess.  I don’t know. Let’s grab a late lunch and maybe see a movie or something?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. My poor body needed a respite from the sex marathon we’d had. I said, “Lunch and a movie? That sounds great!”

He smiled and said, “Good! But on the way home, I need to pick up some things at the store.”

“I am all out of butter.”

On a side note, I later realized that Dick’s ingenuity with butter was not likely his original idea. About seven years ago, I watched the movie, The Last Tango in Paris, for the first time. I have a sneaky suspicion, Dick took that taboo tidbit from the infamous butter scene.

Such a bad boy, that Dick.  

bathtub-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (Part 2)

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

So it was set…

I was making a “house call” as he so cleverly put it.  When it was time to leave for the day, Dick pulled me aside.

“Why don’t you just spend the weekend with me?”

I thought about it for a minute. I was off of “call” for the weekend. I had no other plans. He was a good kisser with an obvious dirty side. So I thought, what the hell…

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He smiled, “Good. Pack a bag and meet me over at my place around 8:00. We may be going out, so bring more than your nightie.” He snickered and winked at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I needed to know so I could prepare the perfect outfit.

He played coy with me, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe dinner. Maybe drinks. Maybe hell”

“Hell?” (What the hell does “hell” mean???)

He said, “Yes, Hell.  Disco Hell. You up for it?”

Disco Hell was a themed night a local bar/pub sponsored once a month. They played 70’s disco music and most people dressed for the occasion in their bell bottoms, and disco dresses. And I had the PERFECT ensemble already.

My answer to him, “Hell yes!”

I got home and packed accordingly. I brought a sexy black gown, heels, a couple of outfits and a sultry sundress and my outfit for Disco Hell. It was a micro mini in a Pucci print, with a plunging halter top and platform heels. I managed to sell my plans to my suspicious parents (I’d just moved back home) as a girl’s trip to Athens for the weekend, and I set off to Chez Dick.

He lived in the historic district of town, where many of the old houses had been converted into apartments. I assumed he lived in an apartment too, but he actually lived in a house. It was a bungalow style from the 1940’s, mostly renovated. It was small but very nice. He met me at the car and helped me carry my bags in.

He took my bags to his room and toured me around the house. We ended up in the kitchen where he fixed me a drink and we sat in there and talked for a while. The chemistry seemed to be fading and I wondered if I’d made the right decision to spend the weekend.

It was almost 10:00 and the drinks were making me sleepy.  Maybe I was bored, who knows.  Dick could tell I was losing interest and said, “Get dressed, let’s go out.”

I hesitated for a moment, but then I remembered it was Disco Hell and I had a fabulous outfit. I excused myself to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and came out to get my outfit, where I found Dick lying on the bed, completely naked.

“I don’t have anything to wear to Disco Hell.” he smirked.

I took his cue and stripped down right there, and said, “Neither do I.”

He stood up and walked over to me. We stood there admiring each other. His physique was lean and toned. I’d not realized how tall he was, as I was usually wearing some type of heels. Naked and barefoot, I felt small in his presence. He pulled my mouth towards his and kissed me…like he meant it. I almost lost my balance. To play it off, I stepped back and gracefully dropped to my knees.

I looked up at him and saw that boyish grin on his face. I thought to myself, ‘he has no idea who he has in his bedroom right now…I am about to blow his mind.’ And I focused on his hard cock facing me.

And holy shit….Dick had a huge one. He was originally from the Midwest and I’d heard those Nebraska, corn-fed boys were big-hanging, but I had no idea Dick was packing such a compromising package. No wonder he went by the name Dick. Sorry, I digress.  But damn.

I was swift in my work, taking the entire length of his shaft down my throat. I was determined not to gag, because I was a professional after all. I should be able to handle my liquor and my Dick. And as I concentrated on the task at hand, I felt his hands on the back of my head.

“Take it all, Tess. You horny girl. Take it all. You want me to fuck your mouth don’t you? Don’t answer that. I know you do. Keep sucking that huge cock.”

Had my mouth not already been wide-ass open, I would have probably sat there with my mouth wide-ass open in shock, hearing such dirty talk from Mr. Nice Guy, Dick.

He pushed himself in and out of my mouth until I was a slobbering mess.  The makeup I’d just applied was long gone. We went on like that for a while when he pulled me up from the floor and put me onto the bed.

“Damn, you are good. I knew you would be. You have a certain look about you, Tess. You do know what your are doing. Now I am going to show you a thing or two.”

(To be continued)

Dick-pt 2

A Man Named Dick (Part 1)

His name was Dick.

No, I am serious.  His real name was Richard, but he went by Dick. I met him in the summer of 1994. We worked together at the penis pump company (that’s enough for an entire post on its own…it was a legitimate medical company that sold erection devices.) Dick worked in technical support and I worked in customer service and if you will recall at that time,  I’d just begun my first “side hustle” as an escort.

And now that I write this, I find it ironic that both of my jobs involved sex.

Life was easy back then. My work schedule was 10:00 am-6:00 pm (the same as his) and I’d leave work, go home and get ready for any “calls” I had for the evening.  I stayed pretty busy and there was little time for dating anyone, but Dick was persistent.  Several times a week he would ask me out for dinner, a drink, coffee, a walk…anything.

So one night, I accepted. I decided to live a little. We went out to a downtown pub and had some drinks and appetizers. It was fun. He was a great guy. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall and lean. He was a runner and in excellent shape. And he was a good guy…squeaky clean. Not my type at all.  But still, the date was going well and I enjoyed spending time with him.

And then my pager began going off.  I muted it and carried on with the date. It went off again. And again. So I politely excused myself to the bathroom, found a pay phone (remember this was 1994) and called the boss, Gina.

“Where are you?” she asked. I could tell she was irritated.

“Sorry, I am on a date.” I replied.

She giggled. “Crap! I forget that you still date. Do you want to take a couple of calls for me tonight? These two have asked for you specifically.”

So I pondered it for a moment…two regulars would mean a lot of money. These two would tip well also. So I asked her to give me some time and I would make it happen.

I went back to the table and finished my drink. And made up an excuse to cut it short. Lucky for me, he bought it. We walked to my car and said, “I enjoyed this. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I could pull it off…dating and working? So I smiled a devious grin, “I don’t know, Dick. What are we doing?”

He smiled, “Something fun. How about dinner and the comedy club?”

That would not work for me.  It would take way too much time. So I said, “Let’s save the club for another time, tomorrow is a work night.”  He agreed. And as I turned to get into my car, he laid a kiss on me that made my toes curl.  This clean-cut boy clearly had some skills.

So I went home, changed clothes, packed my bag of tricks and headed out for the first call.  It was Andy, one of my favorites.  We always had a great time together. He was the one who liked to fuck me in front of the mirror. That night was no exception. He paid for additional time and I almost forgot about my next call.  But I made it just in time.

The next regular was nothing to write home about. I loved the conversation, but the sex was mediocre. It seemed every time we saw each other, it was always mediocre. I think he wanted an escort more for the conversation than the sex. But he liked to tip.

The night was over and I was several hundred dollars richer. My thoughts reflected back to Dick. He had surprised me with that kiss. I wondered what he would be like in bed.

The next day arrived and work went by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the day was over and it was on to dinner with Dick. I’d told my “boss” Gina that I would not be available until after 9:00.

We ate at a small cafe on the river. It was nice. Romantic and charming. Dinner was delicious and the drinks were ever-flowing. I quickly found myself a bit tipsy.  He could see I was feeling good and suggested we take a walk along the river walk. We held hands and strolled about on the cobblestone path. I was thankful that I’d not worn my highest heels that night.

We approached an empty park along the way.  He quickly pushed me up against a tree and planted another one of those kisses on my unsuspecting lips. I could feel his desire. Actually, I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my body.

“Tess, I want you right here, right now. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you. You are so damn sexy.”

I was shocked. Crisp and clean Dick had a dirty side. I liked it. Soon after, my blouse was open and my bra was off. He teased my hard nipples with his tongue.

And just as I was about to drop to my knees and show him my dirty side, my pager went off. Three times in a row.

I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I needed to go.

“I would love to take this further, but I need to go for now.”

He backed away, defeated. “Why? Who pages you all the time?”

Oh shit, I thought…not prepared for that question, especially after so many drinks.

“I can’t explain now, but I promise, I will tell you later.”

And just like Cinderella, I fled the scene, except I didn’t leave my shoe behind…I left my bra.

I made it to a phone and got the info for the night.  Luckily it turned out to be one call, an older gent. I would be in and out (no pun intended) and done for the evening.  And just like that…I was.

But I needed to come up with something to tell Dick at work the next day.  I thought about it as I drove home. What if I just took a couple of nights off? That way, I could put the pager down, without feeling like I was missing out. And I could focus time with him, maybe for two consecutive days. That should throw him off of my trail.

The next day at work, Dick approached me just as I was getting coffee.

Leaning against the water cooler, he inquired, “So Tess, where did you run off to last night?”

I tried to be dismissive in my response. “Well Dick, I had something to do. I am helping a friend out with some things.” I answered.

“What kind of friend?” he inquired. Peering straight through me and my bullshit.

“Her name is Gina. I’d forgotten that she needed me to look in on some of her elderly clients. She runs a home care business” Damn, that was quick! (And I came up with that gem, in the morning…before coffee?) I was quite proud of my lie.

He smiled and whispered in my ear, “I know what you do, Tess. And it’s okay. It makes me want you more.”

Then he walked away to his desk. And I stood there stunned.

I managed to avoid chatting with him until later that day when Dick sauntered over to my desk. “Where would you like to go tonight, Tessa?” he asked.

I smiled and said, “how about the comedy club?”

He smiled and said, “how about my house?”

I licked my lips and grinned, “Even better, Dick. Even better.”

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

(To be continued)

sex at work

(Photo credit: Google/Pinterest)

Between the Sheets

Hello, Everyone. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I apologize for the long hiatus. I have no specific reason for my absence. I didn’t join a cult or a convent. Nor did I run for president of the PTO. I didn’t jet off to a hedonistic self-help retreat. No, I have been here the entire time, lurking in the shadows…content to lie between the sheets of this bed I’ve made for myself.  Just lying here, reveling in the endless sticky memories of lovers and scenes.

Now it’s time for me to roll over and stretch. It’s time for me to pull back the covers and invite you back into my warm bed of decadence. A place where things get quite tawdry.

I think it’s time for a bedtime story, don’t you?

back in bed-rev

Stay tuned, there is much more to come.