“I love a big strong chest,” she said. And with that she kissed his nipples and sucked them tenderly.
“Hey,” he said, ‘“I think someone else is crying out for attention a bit lower down sweetheart.”
She stopped sucking and grinned lasciviously while removing his boxers.
With her left hand cupping his balls she gently squeezed whilst massaging the skin of his erect penis up and down in a gentle rhythm. She could feel her cunt getting lusciously wet and sweet smelling, ready for action. How she loved and had recently missed that aroma. She hoped he could smell that heavenly musk too. Her clit tingled with the joy of expectation.
He gently removed her hand which she took as a sign that things were becoming too intense for him. But by this time she was getting so lost in the throes of it that she replaced her hand with her mouth and began pleasuring his dick from the bell-end to the balls by licking and then sucking and enjoying the salty flavour of his pre-cum. She stopped for a brief moment and Grant stood up with some difficulty in the cramped van. Jenny followed him but was soon unable to resist dropping to her knees in order to continue.
“Use your teeth a bit,” he said.
Gently she placed her teeth on his member taking extreme care just to tease not bite. And then licked and sucked and softly squeezed his balls again.
He kissed her once more at a deliberate pace and gently removed her hand again as a signal to stop the intensity of the attention being lavished on his cock. She lay back on the bed and he joined her, kissing her passionately again and running his fingers through her hair. Then he pulled away from her mouth and started kissing her slender neck and jawline. Finishing off with yet another gentle nibble on her earlobe.
Jenny felt even more juices dribble into the gusset of her knickers and her clit was screaming for attention.
“I’ll say it again, God, your tits are magnificent. And you are beautiful. Did anyone ever tell you that before?”
“Hmm… now that would be telling.”
Jenny lay back in ecstasy as Grant fondled her huge mounds of flesh and sucked her nipples with furore. Just how she liked it. Next he licked her midriff and tummy. All her embarrassment regarding this area seemed to have vanished. He appeared to be enjoying every inch of her. He shuffled further towards the end of the bed, obviously intending to go down on her.
Now it was her turn to surprise him. She jumped up from the bed and foraged around again in her rucksack for her first aid kit. Then she got back on the bed and knelt with her back towards him showing him her pert bum. She tossed the tiny packet over her shoulder and whispered, “Please fuck me.”
Grant took a deep breath and smoothed the rubber over his shaft. God, he had never seen such an ass before, so cute and so sexy - it certainly seemed to defy gravity. Wow! He knelt behind her and stroked his huge cock against the swollen lips of her pussy feeling its fire and wetness until he could not prevent her hot cunt from devouring his ardent shaft any longer. So he pulled back and slipped inside which caused raving and moaning from both of them.
With his powerful yet tender arms, he reached around her waist. One hand played with her feverish clit, feeling her sticky honey melt all over his fingers. The other hand cupped each ample breast in turn, gently squeezing the nipples and fondling and exploring her delicate flesh.
She yelped as he gently stimulated her G-spot in ever so tiny circles as he carried on screwing vigorously her from behind. He knew he couldn’t hold off much longer, and he really wanted to come while inside her.
Then there was a cataclysmic tension in Jenny’s body. All her moaning and shouting stopped for a few seconds even though he was still fucking her and massaging her sensitive bud.
Grant sensed the exact moment she climaxed this time as she seemed to stop breathing and let out an animal-like scream as she had on the moor. Her pussy felt as if it would never release him from its tight grip when suddenly his own orgasm hit. His cock throbbed within her cunt and finally released its own powerful nectar.
An odd mixture of profanities and praise for each other’s sexual prowess flew into the air as their bodies completed what were truly blissful orgasms. They both flopped onto the bed and lay there side by side for several minutes; breathless, sweating, smiling and staring at one another. Once they had both come down from their orgasms a bit, Grant got up, binned the condom and got a flask of tea from the front.
Then he joined Jenny on the bed for their second post-coital cuddle of the day. They each had a quick swig of tea and then Jenny instinctively snuggled close to Grant, putting her head on his chest. He put the flask on the floor and placed his arm around her; and pulling the blankets over them both, he lightly kissed her forehead.
“That’s grand,” he said.
“Just grand…” she replied, as she started to doze off feeling safe and comfortable in his arms.
There came a rap on the van’s body. Then another one, louder this time.
Grant got up, wrapping one of the blankets around him and opened the driver’s side. It was Harry.
“Oh, so you’re in then?”
“So it would appear.”
“It was just that I noticed your van rocking about. Side to side. Most irregular, I thought.”
“That’ll be an earthquake Harry, I suppose.”
“Earth-bloody-quake in the Peak District?”
“Bye, Harry. Thanks for your concern.”
Grant locked the door again and got back into bed with Jenny again.
“Well the earth definitely moved for me. How ‘bout you?”
“You are incorrigible,” she said, giggling. “Poor old Harry.”
The Mattress
By Kay Jaybee
The way the two women sniggered as they spotted me lying on the ground made me sure they hadn’t expected their walk to produce such a convenient opportunity to fuck.
From the scent of them, I’d say they’d been drinking cocktails. The mildly sickly scent of boozy peach and mango clung to them, suggesting they’d partaken of enough alcohol to be without inhibition, but not enough to be without decision making abilities.
The minute they saw me, cast aside, damaged and unwanted amongst a pile of autumn leaves at the edge of a wood, they knew what they wanted to do, and their giggling became laced with purpose.
Somehow, during the periods of inaction between eventful episodes of accidental discovery by passersby, I’ve almost blended into the landscape, forming a hinterland of sexual promise between the woods to my right and a farmer’s field to my left. However, like so many of my opportune visitors, these young ladies didn’t care that a number of my springs were poking out of my sides, or that nights and days of rainfall had given me the musty aroma of the trees that surrounded me.
You could see the need for sex burn in the women’s matching green eyes. I’d know that look anywhere. I used to see in the old days when I’d been working as half of a partnership. “Mattress and bed.” What a team we’d formed when we’d resided together in a cheap hotel in town. Couple after couple would visit me and my divan support back then, in a rent-me-by-the-hour sort of a way. I miss that life. I miss making people happy. I miss fulfilling my purpose properly.
I think my latest visitors must have been together for a while. The way they regarded each other spoke volumes. I could read many nights of tender love etched across their faces; but the way their hands attacked each other’s clothes made me wonder if it was their very first time in the great outdoors.
I relished the weight of their bodies as they climbed aboard me, kicking off their shoes. I sighed beneath them as they dropped to their knees; emerald gaze locked into jade gaze; turquoise painted fingernails eager at oversized jumpers. Despite the November chill, in their keenness to reach the bare skin hidden beneath the necessary winter layers, they removed their tops, recklessly laying them on the leaf cracklingly frosty ground.
The taller of the girls had sleek long brunette hair, and as her bottle red-headed companion murm
ured gently against her neck, I learnt her name was Yasmin.
Yasmin’s body radiated desire as her nameless girlfriend bought ruby lips to her right breast, making her squeal and chuckle, as her buttocks clenched within her denims upon my age-buckled surface.
As the more forceful red head’s hand shot down the front of her now open jeans, clenching her lover’s pussy in a deliciously repetitive opening and closing palm, Yasmin’s light breathing became laboured and short, until suddenly she became completely silent.
I could feel the brunette’s bent knees go rigid, her whole being centred on the twin sensations at her crotch and chest. Nothing else mattered. Not the damp evening sky. Nor the possibility that other strolling lovers might have escaped into the woods and would witness their coupling. Absolutely nothing. The whole world revolved around the immediate giving and receiving of a mind-blowing finger fuck.
Too cold to linger, as soon as Yasmin had gotten her rocks off, the women wrapped themselves in each other’s arms. Snogging until they could stand the chill of late evening no longer, they left me as quickly as they’d arrived. The last thing I heard as they disappeared between the shadows of the trees, was Yasmin’s promise to return the favour to her partner as soon as they got to the warmth of home.
I smiled to myself; content to have been of service, and convinced that they would visit me again someday. Probably when the sun was shining.
The first time I’d been used alfresco was in circumstances a million miles from my new semi-neglected life.
My old home, the pseudo hotel, boarding house, knocking shop (whatever you’d like to call it), had a large secluded walled garden. That day, many years ago, the summer sky had been blindingly blue and the air was stickily humid. I, along with two of my neighbouring rooms’ double mattresses, had been lugged from our beds, and placed side-by-side on the grass next to a yellow paved patio and a mini hot tub.
Tiny silver star-shaped glitter had been sprinkled across the crisp white sheets that our owner had stretched over us as we waited for the players in the game to arrive. I could only imagine how the shimmering stars might irritate if they got wedged in the wrong places. Yet, after appearing in such productions before, I appreciated how eye-catching they’d look as they caught the light, and twinkled against the sexually perspiring skin that was soon to roll over them.
Despite the glare of the intense sunshine, a lighting rig had been set up all around us, and there were cameras at all angles. Excitement suspended in the air as my fellow mattresses and I imagined what the humans who’d soon be rebounding off us would do to each other, as the ever mute film crew watched, keeping their own lust in check until the show was captured. Then they could dispel their own physical requirements by booking a hotel room for that very purpose, which they often did with wild abandon.
Water had sprayed over me that day. Not the dull persistent drizzle of the rain I am frequently subjected to now, but a pleasantly warm happy splashing from the hot tub. Naked males and females engaged in extreme foreplay within its depths, before climbing gracefully out and, sprawling and dripping, fell across our makeshift alfresco bed.
Only seconds later cocks were sucked, caressed, and sunk into juice-sodden channels. Arses were spanked and invaded. Breasts were manhandled and bitten, and mouths were used as receptacles of insertion for everything from lollypops to dildos, from fingers to dicks and tits.
When I was so unceremoniously dumped in this field some weeks ago, I’d assumed I was here for another outside session at first; that some film company had paid the landowner for my services. I never dreamt I’d ever be replaced; that my days of sexual adventure were over; that my purpose had been lost. But as the day fell to night, and no one but rabbits passed me by, despondency hit me. Never again, I thought as I lay against the grass stubbled ground, will my springs creak in time to the rutting of my beloved, ever-lustful, humans.
I need not have worried. Humans will always find a place to ease their appetites, and I will always be one of those places. It took less than twenty-four hours from the time when the uncaring driver of a removal van had thrown me from his transit, over a fence into a field, for me to be discovered.
Tutting and cursing fly tippers for dumping their rubbish on his property, a farmer had spotted me from the cab of his tractor, jumped free of his vehicle, dragged me the length of the cornfield, and left me languishing on the hinterland between the arable land and the wood that bordered its top side. I’d felt sad at first when he’d left me there. The touch of his rough hands had been very welcome against my worn edges as I’d been bumped and scraped across the muddy earth. He’d only gone three paces however, before he returned.
His face was thoughtful as he keenly scanned the landscape around him, as if inspecting the area for fellow labourers or lunchtime walkers. Acting on an impulse he’d been unsure whether to obey or not, he knelt upon me, his fly yanked open, his shaft free, his hand pumping back and forth, his blue eyes narrowed in forehead-furrowing concentration.
I swear I could almost see the pictures whirling through his imagination. Two women busy before him perhaps? Their mouths working at each other’s mounds, lapping and kissing each other to climax in the fashion of so many a man’s wank fantasies. Or was he into something more extreme? Did the recesses of this labourer’s mind visualise a magnificent dark-skinned woman tethered to the post of a wooden four-poster bed? Her slender neck secured in a dog collar, her master whispering his dirtiest wishes in her ear, while another filled her with his length, moving so slowly that she had no choice but to beg him to go faster.
Sagging and reforming, I moved with the farmer as his knees pushed harder and deeper against me. I could feel his pulse quicken through the veins in his legs, and shuddered with him as his wrist moved so fast it became barely visible until, with a shout, he shot his cum across me, fertilising the field with his own seed.
That was when I knew I wasn’t going to be alone for long after all.
The man and woman had come prepared. This was an affair - no question about it. You could feel the danger in the atmosphere. Their furtive looks spoke volumes. Had they been followed? Did they have time to what they planned to do? What they desperately needed to do?
The declining late afternoon temperature was not an issue for them. I could sense their super-heated lust-soaked skin above me as the heavily set man, his arms thick with muscles, his calves bedecked with tattoos, wrenched the clothes from his mistress’ body. Without giving himself time to savour the effect of the sexy lingerie she had undoubtedly spent ages selecting to wear, he grunted his pleasure at the sight of her flawless form.
Goosebumps didn’t even have the chance to prickle across her plentiful curves as he pulled her feet out from under her. The woman’s porcelain skin crushed me, her dyed golden hair cascading over where once a pillow would have sat. As my greying surface cushioned her spine, the man fell upon her. He was a blur. A haze of hunger as his mouth, arms, hands, and legs travelled every inch of her blissfully moaning being. Every pore of his body simply oozed masculinity.
They didn’t waste their time on words as pussy liquid trickled across my surface. The murmurs and cries of want escaping from the woman’s throat however, as her illicit counterpart took both her wrists, straightened them out above her head, and clamped them still under one of his huge hands, vocally intensified with each passing second. The almost animal groan she gave at her abrupt inability to move was not one of protest, but an echo of dark contentment, which drove her lover on.
Ordering her to roll over, keep her arms still, and shut her eyes, he delved a hand into the carrier bag they’d bought with them, the crackling of the plastic telling me he’d reached inside. The subsequent screech of anguished surprise from the woman hinted that he’d produced either a paddle or a whip. From the noise it made as it hit his willing victim’s arse, I would say it was a paddle - there was more of a thwack than a swish as the tool arced through the air. Its scent told me it was leather - expensive le
ather.
With each crack of his weapon, the man barked at her, calling her a whore and a bitch. Over and over again he told her how dirty she was, and what a bad girl she’d become since she’d started cheating on her husband with him.
When he ordered her to turn over again, I was reminded of a film that had been shot in my old hotel about a year ago. The actors had spoken lines that resembled almost every utterance that came out of his mouth. This guy was unquestionably a connoisseur of the porn movie.
Rather than be offended, his lover gloried in every second. As the smacks continued across her breasts, her master massaged his left hand over her snatch and nub in two strong firm strokes, and with a prolonged wolf-like yowl, she bucked and screamed her release like a thing possessed. Her beautifully manicured fingernails clawed into me as her smooth palms and bare knees clasped my sides. She was like a bull in a rodeo; a wild creature of passion trying to dislodge her cowboy.
The second his submissive had finished convulsing, desperate for his own climax, the tattooed man dropped his weapon. Flipping her over, he bounced his borrowed woman against me, impaling his urgent cock inside her so hard that I am sure my few remaining springs must have dug into her, bruising her flesh in a way that would have been awkward to explain away to her husband later.
Proving that he cared for the blonde as much as he hankered after her body (well almost as much), the spent man speedily dressed his mistress, who was now quivering more with exposure than desire. Wrapping his arms around her, he met her lips gently, telling her, with a tenderness in complete contrast to the abuse he’d hurled at her only moments go, that she was unbelievable.
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