by C. A. Bell
The hand dryer went off and I let out a little moan, knowing that it would be hidden by the blowing sound. After it stopped, the restroom door closed and we were alone once more.
I arched my back and rocked my hips against her face, helping to coax my climax to its peak before I exploded with frustration.
It soon started to build more rapidly. My stomach and leg muscles tightened, and I thrust out and held my position while she continued to tease my clit, then all of a sudden that fuck me feeling engulfed me. I cried out as my inner walls contracted and pushed liquid down my thighs. I reached out for something to grab. Finding the toilet paper holder, I gripped it and dipped my hips up and down as I rode the almighty feeling all the way to its last pulse of my clit.
Dropping back down to reality, I stepped back and allowed Ava some air. I looked down to see her wiping her chin.
“You taste so fucking good,” she said, as she rose to her feet.
I wriggled my skirt down. “Likewise.”
After straightening my clothes, I ran my hands through my hair and reached for the lock.
“What? No thank you kiss?” Ava looked at me with a plump bottom lip.
This was the only thing that let her down—her needy, girly, lovey side.
I kissed her hard on the mouth. “Better?”
She opened her eyes, slowly. “Mhm.”
“Great. I’ll grab us some drinks while you sort yourself out.”
I pulled the door open and left, not giving her any more opportunity to get all sentimental on my arse.
Making my way to the bar, I spotted Max sat there on his mobile. I decided to rile him up now I was feeling better.
“You look lonely,” I said as I stood between him and another man sat at the bar.
He grinned. “It’s only temporary.”
“I hope so, because it’s a most unbecoming look for you. Makes you frown more. And you don’t look so attractive with all those lines crinkling your forehead.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm. Chanel Hydrate cream.”
“What?”
“That’ll help prevent anymore lines from forming.” I looked his forehead over. “That is, if there’s any room left.”
He shook his head.
“Of course, Botox would be the only way for you to get rid now. Did no one ever tell you prevention was better than cure?”
He chuckled then turned his gaze back to his phone.
The tender approached.
“Two G&T’s, please.”
“Ice? Lime?”
“No to the first, naturally to the latter.” I smiled.
As I waited for my drinks, I leant back subtly and peeked at his screen. A woman in a pink bra presented itself.
I shook my head and leaned in. “You know, it looks pretty desperate when you are sat at a bar all alone, looking at pictures of half naked women on your phone.”
He snapped his head to look at me and locked his phone at the same time.
“Hey, it’s not my fault women randomly send me sexy pics asking if I want to play.”
“Ha.” I laughed sarcastically. “Sure.”
“Believe it or don’t. I don’t have to prove anything to you… yet.”
I handed the bartender a note after he bought my drinks over, ignoring the last little irritating word Max had to stick on the end of his sentence.
I picked up the drinks and shrugged. “Just trying to give you a few pointers. That’s all.”
“Well, thanks, but I don’t need pointers. Especially from a woman.”
“Shame. Because I’d like to help you, Max.”
“Help me what?”
“Get some pussy.”
The man to my right suddenly rotated his head towards me.
I smiled at him. “Hi. Private conversation here, so…” I shooed him away with my hand and he turned back around.
“That’s so funny. You,” he pointed at me, “give me. Me,” he pointed at himself, “pointers on how to get pussy. Oh wow. You really are deranged.”
I took a sip of my drink, smiling against the rim.
“Sorry to break it to you,” he started, “but the only one getting pussy tonight is me, baby. And before you say it, your own don’t count.” He glanced down to my crotch.
I pouted my lips. “Aww, poor Maxy. I’ve already had other pussy. In fact, you can probably still smell it on me.”
He pulled an unimpressed face. “Sure.”
“Three words for you. Ava. Toilets. Fuck.” I twisted on my heels and headed away, feeling his eyes burning holes in my dress.
Max Harper
I watched her walk back to the table where the blonde was sitting. Girl sex in the toilets, my arse. But then again, hold on... I watched closely. The blonde smiled at her in a way that suggested the pair really had just been intimate. Then came the hand on the thigh. Then a kiss on the cheek. Then… Oh shitting hell, she was telling the truth. As her PA leaned in to whisper, her hand snaked down to the back of Brooke’s knee where she caressed it quickly before pulling away and glancing around. She caught my eye and I instantly looked down at my phone and started to look busy. I swiped across the screen and opened Clarisa’s message. Another picture of her in her new underwear, this time an arse view with the message: Come see me. I’m lonely and my new panties need attention.
Restriction in my pants suddenly became apparent. I glanced at the time—almost nine. I decided to give it another hour. If Jasmine was going to show on a Thursday night, it’d be before ten. In the meantime, though, I’d work Clarisa’s little thong into a soak and watch the sexy, subtle girly affection that was going on in the corner.
Clarisa and the Pink Panties
Max Harper
I sunk into the driver’s seat of my Merc and started to compose a reply to Clarisa to tell her to get those little panties off because daddy was coming. She’d had my cock rising and falling like Tower Bridge all night with her sexy pictures and texts. It was now ten-twenty and I’d decided to call it a night as far as the Jasmine bet went. If she did show, Brooke would have a hard time getting anywhere with her needy puppy sat beside her anyway. After watching the pair intensively, I could tell that Ava had feelings for Brooke, but I wasn’t sure they were returned. I felt kind of bad for the woman as I watched her trying so badly to get Brooke’s attention. She wasn’t interested, though. Her eyes were constantly scanning the room, uninterested in anything Ava was doing or saying.
I deleted the text I was writing and decided to give Clarisa a ring instead. I pressed call and listened for her voice.
“Hey, stud.”
“Mmm, hey, you.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, you know damn well, baby. Get your knickers off. I’m coming to play.”
“Ooh, goodie.”
I started the engine and revved the car. “You hear that?”
“What’s that?”
“The roar of my engine.” I pressed down on the accelerator pedal again. “I’m coming for you.” I hung up, pushed the gearstick into reverse and backed out slowly before razing out of the car park and down the high street to Clarisa and her naughty pink panties.
When I arrived at the address she’d provided in an earlier message, my eyes widened. Who’d have known dirty girl Clarisa lived in one of the most elite parts of town? I drove up the drive and reversed so the nose of my car was facing the exit, just in case I needed a quick getaway. I couldn’t remember her marital status, so it was best to be prepared. I wasn’t a fighter unless I really had to be. And if I really had to, God help them. I preferred to talk things through like a gentleman, not only because it was the more civil thing to do, but also because black eyes and broken noses did not suit my face. I wasn’t a rough arse thug who strutted about showing off his war wounds. I was a classy, cool, sophisticated gent in a suit.
I locked the car after getting out and headed for the door. As I approached, I noticed it was open a crack. My phone vibrated.<
br />
Door’s open. Come on in. My panties are waiting.
I grinned and pushed the heavy oak door open. A huge entrance hall in golds and creams presented itself, and right in the middle of the sparkly tiled floor were the very pink panties she’d been teasing me with all night. I walked in and closed the door behind me before retrieving the panties. I was so tempted to sniff, but without her there to see, it just felt pervy. I slipped them in my pocket. I’d get a whiff later.
My phone buzzed against my thigh again.
Upstairs, third door on your right.
I took to the stairs, then once at the top, headed for the room I’d been instructed to. I knocked on the door, my cock ready to pound whatever he found behind it.
“Come in,” she called, her voice a little muffled as the closed door absorbed her words.
I twisted the door handle and entered to find her on her knees, bent over a leather ottoman, arse looking directly at me in the soft lamp light.
She wiggled her bottom.
“I’ve been waiting for you, daddy.”
I stepped towards her, noticing the crop on the bed. Ah, she wanted that kind of daddy tonight.
“I trust this implement is for my use?” I asked, just double checking her intentions.
“Yes, daddy.”
I picked it up and sliced it through the air. A whooshing sound filled the room.
I’d dabbled in this stuff before. I’d been the top and I’d been the bottom. The whole thing was fun for sure, but I’d never made it a habit. Wasn’t really my style. The outfits, definitely. But the whole emotional side, no thanks. Sex was just sex, and that was how I wanted it to stay. Bringing BDSM elements into the bedroom was fine, as long as it was only the physical side of things.
I tapped her bum lightly with the end of the crop. “Is this why you have been teasing me all night? To get me here so I can discipline your fine arse for being so naughty?”
“Mmm, yes, daddy.”
“Then tell me, how much of a bad girl have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been very bad.” She swayed her beautiful little bottom side to side and kept her head down.
“Elaborate. Tell me the bad things you’ve done. Convince me you deserve a good thrashing.”
“I’ve pleasured myself while watching two men fuck.”
My cock pulsed.
“I’ve had sex with two people at the same time.”
I gripped my hard-on through my trousers and squeezed.
“And I’ve sent naughty pictures.”
I growled in my throat. “I make that ten strikes. One for each of the seven pictures you sent tonight. One for the masturbating, you know it’s a sin. And two more for the two people you fucked. Sound fair?”
Her head bobbed. “Oh yes, daddy, very fair.”
“Glad to hear it. Now, count them aloud, baby.”
I smacked her left bum cheek with my hand and watched it wobble at my force.
“One.” She wiggled.
“Good girl.”
I slapped the other one with the same strength and watched the same effect ripple through her cheek.
“Two.”
Then I whacked her with the crop. Not hard, but enough to leave a burning tingle.
“Three.” Her voice sounded playful.
I evened her up on the other cheek.
“Four.”
I threw the crop on the bed and slipped my jacket off before throwing it alongside the leather implement. I gave her another slap with my hand then told her to stand.
She got up, slowly, then faced me. I unzipped my trousers and pulled my cock out through the gap.
“On your knees. If you want the rest, you’ve got to earn them.”
She said nothing, just licked her lips, sunk to her knees and took my cock in her mouth.
I sighed as her warm mouth engulfed all it could take then reached down and gripped her hair lightly. She bobbed up and down on as much of my length as she could take without choking until I forced her to take more with a firm push. She gagged, but continued.
“Mmm, good girl. That’s it, take all you can.”
Her false finger nails ran down the back of my ball sack. I jerked. She gripped both testicles firmly and squeezed. A bout of pain mixed with pleasure shot to my stomach. I didn’t know if I wanted to punch her in the face or continue fucking her mouth. She released, then gripped again, sending the same sensation through me. I bucked my hips and hit the back of her throat. If she wanted to play rough, I could go some of that. She continued to toy with my balls, only this time she added some nails. The acrylic against my sensitive skin sent a sharp pain to my back. I juddered, causing my dick to vibrate against her throat. She gagged repeatedly but I didn’t care. She deserved what she got.
A loud bag from downstairs saw us both freeze.
What the fuck was that?
“Clair?”
She pulled away and stood instantly.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” I could see from the look on her face this was not going to be fun. I shoved my dick back inside my trousers and zipped up. “Who is it?”
“My husband,” she whispered, hurrying into a silky robe and tying it at the waist.
I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on. “Your what? You never said you were married.”
“You never asked. And, well, I might as well not be for the amount of time I spend with him,” she said, rushing towards the door. She opened it slightly. “I’ll distract him.”
I ran my hand through my hair as my heart pounded against my chest. “What about my car? It’s on the bloody drive.”
“Never mind all that. Just get the hell out of here.”
Before I could say another word, she’d left the room. I peeked through the crack in the door and watched her rush down the corridor. I hadn’t a clue how the hell I was going to get out of this one, but my God, if I did, it was definitely a story worth telling. I heard muffled voices downstairs then stepped out of the room, treading as slowly and lightly as possible. As I made my way to the top of the stairs, I halted when their voices became louder.
“You’ve got someone here, haven’t you?” the male voice boomed through the entire house.
I froze, not knowing what the hell to do or where to go. Was I supposed to just stand here until he came face to face with me, or was I supposed to scarper like a rat and shimmy down the drainpipe? I choose the latter and headed back to the room we’d been in and out to the balcony. Assessing the situation, there was only one possible exit route. I was going to have to koala hug my way down the pillar. The shouting became louder, forcing my adrenaline to pump. I lifted one leg over the balcony fence, gripped the concrete edge and slid the other over as well until they were either side of the column. Dangling, holding on for my life, I lowered myself down until I was hugging the post. Slowly, I lowered myself, my arm muscles ready to snap and let me fall to my death.
Almost at the bottom, I heard voices directly above me. I froze, resting my cheek against the cold concrete as I tried to control my breathing.
“Whose car is that out front?” he bellowed into the dark.
I looked up. All I could see was the edge of the balcony and the night sky.
“Why do you even care?” she said, her voice surprisingly calm. “You’ve been cheating on me since day one. Why are you allowed to dip your dick and I’m not?”
Silence fell. All I could hear were crickets singing and my muscles tearing. I didn’t dare move for fear of making a noise.
“Exactly,” she said. “I’m out of here. You want me then we need to come to some kind of agreement. If you’re getting pussy while you’re away on these long arse trips, then I want cock while you’re away.”
I chuckled to myself, and it was the worst thing I could have done. I tried to hold on, but I couldn’t. The laugh had taken all the strength I had left in me. I fell right into a bush, a branch poking me in the butt cheek. I wanted to holler and rip the fucker out by the root
s, but instead I scrambled to my feet, worried they had heard me, and legged it to the side of the house, rubbing my arse vigorously to get rid of the pain. Once I’d made it to the gate, without going back to punch up the arse probing bush, I opened it slowly, took out my key and got ready to get the fuck out of there.
A car engine started up as I headed towards my Merc. Tyres screeched against the tarmac and a red Porsche sped down the driveway and out of sight. I quickly hobbled to my car, unlocking it when I was in reaching distance.
“Hold it right there.”
Fuck a duck, you have got to be shitting me.
Opening the door and then fleeing the scene as fast as possible entered my mind, but I knew it was too late. I heard shoes against the ground directly behind me and in the reflection of my car window, I met Clarisa’s husband for the first time.
I turned, ready to block or duck his fists, but they didn’t come. Instead, he looked me over and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll let her off.”
I frowned, becoming even more uncomfortable than before when I’d thought he was going to knock my block off.
“How did you get out?”
There was no point in insulting him. He knew. “Off the balcony.”
He laughed. “Hurt when you fell, did it?”
“You heard that?”
“No. But judging from the walk, that must have hurt.”
“Ah. Yeah. It did.”
“Listen… what’s your name?”
“Max,” I told him reluctantly, wondering where the hell this conversation was going.
“Blake,” he nodded. “Now, join me for a drink. I’d like to hear all about your adventures with my wife.”
He turned and headed off towards the front of the house.
Was this guy for fucking real? This had to be a joke. Some kind of weird process before he beat the crap out of me or something.