Polly Eve

“Hey, how did you afford to buy that?” Polly looked me in the eyes, “You didn’t did you, buy it I mean?”

I grinned and tried to twist out of her grasp.

“Whoa, not so fast, tell me…” her fingers dug into the flesh of my arms, “please girlfriend, tell me you didn’t…” She was reluctant to make the accusation outright.

I laughed and held up my hand with the ring on it, it sparkled like a diamond; it was a diamond and yes, I had “acquired” it.

It had been an impetuous act, I had been window shopping and was admiring the bling at the jewellers shop. Suddenly I found myself inside the shop and asking to see the one ring that had enticed me in.

I hold the ring up to the light again and Polly grabs my hand. She pulls the ring nearer her face in order to scrutinize it.

“It was expensive but I had saved all my money in order to buy it,” I lied.

My friend looks at me closely, her eyes full of doubt but wanting not to believe that her friend would have stooped so low as to steal.

“No! That, April, is impossible, we are close friends, remember?”

“So okay, I found me a rich sugar-daddy… he bought it for me, he adores me.” It was futile, I couldn’t convince her, and I knew I would have to tell her the truth.

At the jewellers

“You’ll forgive me for being so bold little lady but that rock is way out of your range.” A big old guy peered over my shoulder; his breath was hot on my neck.

My instinct was to tell him to “mind your own business”; after all I was reasonably well dressed; how did he know I couldn’t afford it?

“Oh, don’t worry I am pre-selecting a ring that my rich uncle is going to buy me.” I laughed lightly and held my hand out so that the ring was under his nose.

The old guy didn’t look convinced, but he took my outstretched fingers, admired the diamond nestled there then raised my fingers to his lips and kissed them. Wow! I’ve never had that before, my coochie puckered, I swear.

“It sure nestles prettily on those slim, cool fingers, I envy your ‘uncle’” He stressed the last word in a way that stated to me that he didn’t believe that uncles, rich or otherwise, went around giving expensive jewels to ‘nieces’.

His smile reinforced his words, I could tell that he thought that I would have to, or was already, earning any such gift.

Suddenly my mind grasped a scenario that excited me; Me, April Noël, selling my body to the highest bidder. Allowing those men who had the means, to use my body for their sexual pleasures. I would accumulate wealth by doing what I enjoy.

“Do you have a niece?” I innocently asked the old guy.

He laughed lightly, “not with such expensive tastes,” he stood back and his eyes appraised me from head to toe, “nor with such a beautiful body and pretty face.”

“Oh? But you… would like…” I tried to lead him, to put words in his mouth. He fell for it.

“Hell yes, I would.” He was enthusiastic.

Yes, I thought, you sure would, look at your old eyes sparkling, your cheeks flushing at the thought of get your old hands on my young body, I thought.

“What a pity that I have an uncle,” I bent forward over a display case allowing my blouse to fall open to offer the guy a lot more of what my bra already pushed up and together for his eyes. “He is so generous, but to be fair, he would never buy me this ring, he can be mean and make me work for such a reward.

I posed provocatively and pouted my pink lips.

God! I had him hooked; he licked his lips, and fidgeted a hand in his pants pocket.

His hand rested on the display case and I laid my fingers containing the ring on his wrist. Looking up into his eyes I tilted my head to one side, an action I am told tends to give men the idea that I am seriously flirting with them.

I continued, “of course no uncle would straight out buy such a fabulous gift, for a niece that they didn’t see for… well, forever. Would they?”

He laughed, a low chuckle, and I knew we were on the same wave-length. “Nope, he would not, for he would want to be sure that he had the right niece, there are far too many imposters around.”

I drew in a shocked breath, “oh my god yes, he would need to go someplace to inspect at close hand her… um…”

“…credentials.” The old guy quickly completed my sentence and smiled. My coochie made herself known again, and I had to wriggle my thighs to squeeze her lips together, to say ‘okay honey, I’ll see to you soon.’

“Of course, any old… um, older guy could pick on a young, innocent girl and say he was her uncle, bringing her a gift, and then leave her unrewarded and sad.” I was looking in another cabinet of bling, this time less expensive.

“He would I imagine, have his own credentials that would be exchanged with those of the young person, wouldn’t you? Like that one there, what do you think?”

I looked up and smiled. What I wondered would be in an old guy’s pants; couldn’t be too different from a young guy’s could it?

Looking at my watch I explained that I had to go, handed over the big rock from my finger and stood on tip- toe to plant a kiss on the old guy’s cheek.

Into my hand he pressed a card; a quick glance told me that he was at a classy hotel in town.

I tapped the face of my watch and raised my eyebrows in a silent question.

“Pleased to meet you young lady if you're ever around town I take a drink around eight pm.”

I nodded; eight o’clock.

-oOo-

Polly has never been one to just hear a thing through; always butting in, questioning and interfering. This time was no different.

“April Noel!”

Oh god, here comes the lecture.

“April Noël that is prostitution; selling sex for money! I am shocked, did you ever hear of STD’s?”

“Polly Eve!” I burst out laughing as my friend hates the use of her second name. You see, her surname starts with an ‘E’… Polly Eve E… or Pea as I sometimes call her.

“Define ‘prostitution? I ask.

“There shouldn’t be a need for me to define it!” Polly is getting into gear here; she enjoys being the school marm. “However, as there seems to be a vital need to re-educate a wanton woman here, I shall.”

Sigh… and she did.

“The act or practice of engaging in promiscuous sexual relations especially for money…” she quoted haughtily.

“Okay, I accept that it was practice ‘cos I wasn’t too sure if I would do it again… sexual relations? You didn’t let me even tell you yet…for money? Oh no, not I, no money ever changed hands.

“Don’t be pedantic April Noël, you engaged in promiscuous sexual relations.”

Like a child at school I put up my hand, Polly dismissed the gesture in disgust.

“Okay,” I said, “please define promiscuous?”

Now Polly is in full flow, in her element, she sees that she has complete domination.

“It’s enough to say ‘not restricted to one class or person’, now is it clear?”

My shoulders hunch forward I look defeated, I look up to her standing over me… “Um Polly?” I wait a second to be sure I have her attention. “You have a boyfriend or possibly more? You um… are bisexual? She glares down at me.

“That is so not the same thing… and you know it.” My friend’s face colours a bright pink.

“Now Polly, not the same sex… not with the same girl or guy? Hmmm…?”

My friend can’t seem to get any coherent words formed and stutters and stammers.

“Money!” She is triumphal.

“You didn’t take presents from boy or girl friends?” I leave it at that as I feel the victory is much more mine than hers.

At the hotel

I’ve heard of girls going to a bar in a hotel to pick up ‘clients’ so I am slightly nervous when I enter the lobby of the hotel, I check the card that the guy in the jewellers gave me. It is the correct hotel, and I am suitably later than the eight o’clock the guy said. I realise that I don’t know his name, so how the hell will I find him? I really don’t want to sit perched on a bar stool looking like…

…looking like what? What I am about to come, a call girl, a prostitute, what? People seem to stare at me as if they have been told to ‘get down to the lobby around eight as there will be a twenty-two year old first-timer call-girl there’.

I felt colour rush to my cheeks, I wanted to hide, shit, why was I foolish enough to let this silly whim get this far out of hand?

Although I tried to stifle it, a scream forced its way past my lips as a big hand fell on my shoulder from behind. How could the hotel security have worked out so soon why I was there? What would they do with me?

As stupid as it may seem the shock added to the effects that anticipation of the possibility of sex with an old man had had on my libido; I was literally wetting my pants and I don’t mean peeing them.

“Hey now little lady… hell, I didn’t mean to surprise you so… wow, you're shaking like a leaf.”

I was too, and tears ran from my eyes to trickle down my cheeks; I think it was relief that the voice was that of the guy at the jewellers and not of some burly security guy.

He bent and hugged me to his big frame. There was a smell of cologne but also of a man, but not of the young men I have embraced, it was a… oh, I can’t define it, but it was not a bad smell, it was more comforting… silly, I know.

As he started to relax his hold on me I swept my arms as far around him as I could and pulled him tighter; I needed this comfort.

“Okay, you need a drink, come on let’s sit in the bar and you can calm down.” He took my arm but I pulled back; the tag of prostitute was making me feel dirty already.

“May we go elsewhere please,” I asked.

Sensitive now to whatever was bothering me the guy lowered his voice; it actually didn’t help a lot as it sounded so damned sexy, “I am at a loss to suggest somewhere,” he started, “You seem so nervous, where…?”

I just didn’t want to say it so I raised my eyes to look upwards, he looked up and with a look that said “d’uh”, he understood.

Walking across the lobby to the elevator was a nightmare for me. I felt all eyes were on me. I wore bow-cut, boot-flared, dark stone jeans on 3.5” blue salomés topped by a multi-coloured jacquard poncho over a red tie-neck blouse; I felt that my ass wiggled just a little too much, as if I was exaggerating it deliberately. It was a relief that the guy walked behind me; I didn’t mind at all that he should stare at my tightly encased butt.

“Please don’t scream… if you need, just slap my face, but there is something I have to do.” We had hardly entered the elevator and the doors were not yet fully closed when the guy spoke.

As I tried to turn to face him I was stopped by his two hands cupping the ass to my jeans. I could feel the heat from his flesh effusing the fabric and passing through onto the flesh of my naked buttocks. As usual I wore a string, no panties line for me!

Looking over my shoulder I grinned then wiggled my butt in his hands. His fingers tightened their grip and massaged my buttocks.

“May I kiss you?”

I didn’t answer; instead I turned, raised my arms, pulled his head down to me and planted my open mouth on his lips. I kept my eyes open and as I expected, I witnessed his not only open but open real wide as my tongue forced its way between his lips and sought out his tongue. This guy was a gentleman; he had freshly cleaned his teeth and used mouth wash.

His hand dropped behind me to my ass once again but this time it forced my body to his. If I had doubted what the night would hold it sure seemed to be heading in one sure direction; there was a mighty bulge pressing somewhere around the level of my belly.

The guy broke our kiss. “Whoa, where did you learn to kiss like that… don’t answer, I don’t need to know, just do…”

He couldn’t complete the sentence, my mouth was on his; how did an old guy taste so good? Did ALL his flesh taste that good?

My coochie was now making demands; the poor thing had been teased for too long, she drooled for some petting. If I didn’t set her free soon my new jeans would soak up what my string couldn’t absorb.

Just as I squeezed my hand between our bodies and had located the bulge in his pants the elevator stopped. We just had time to straighten ourselves before the door opened and revealed people waiting to enter.

Unfortunately the corridor was busy so I had to wait to try again to feel the man’s bulge. I was desperate to stroke my coochie but I knew that any pressure on her and she would flood my jeans, so again I just had to be patient.

-oOo-

Polly Eve is staring at me with such a strange look.

“What? First you tell me that I am a prostitute now you don’t believe what I am saying?”

Her mouth moves but it seems that words are failing her at this moment.

“But you… this is…” she shakes her head as if to rearrange her brain, “well how can I…” she sighs in frustration.

You see, I, April Noël, I am the goody two shoes of our group of friends. Okay I have boyfriends, and yes, I have sex. But I am known as a bit predictable… you know? Boring. Always have sex in bed; I don’t have quick sex in a car or a back alley. I don’t do, as my friend and have same sex… um, sex. I don’t even say “fuck” in front of my friends or anyone else for that matter.

So I can see how ‘Pea’ is finding it hard to understand and believe what I am telling her.

I pause, staring at her, intimidating her, giving her time to think.

I try as surreptitiously as I can to wriggle my butt into the cushions, as telling the story to my friend is kind of turning me on. Naturally, I know what more is to come and boy, I am going to need to relieve coochie soon, I may have to excuse myself and go to the bathroom on the excuse of needing to pee.

Finally ‘Pea’ finds some words, coherent words. “Look April, I know I started off sounding harsh but we are best friends, you can admit to me the truth. I am not here to judge you. After all kleptomania is an illness that can befall the best of us at any time, but it can be treated.”

Oh my god this is so good, if it gets any better I swear I shall have an orgasm as I sit here. I wonder if I could. Could I bring myself off sitting here, without touching my pussy? Of course Polly Eve doesn’t know that I masturbate, she and my friends think I am too boring to do it; I like to let them think it, it pleases me.

“Oh Pea, how wonderful, you have given me an idea, I shall go steal things, get caught and offer sex for the authorities to…”

Polly screams, her face turns very pale; and because of it I am now on the point of orgasm.

I pretend to begin to go into the first throes of a sexual climax. I breathe noisily, taking deep, short breaths. My face contorts and I grunt as I expel air. I buck my hips on the cushions and thrust forward with my pussy.

Poor Polly Eve is panic-stricken, she steps back a pace, looks worried then drops to her knees and tentatively stretches out a hand towards me.

Grasping her hand is all that is takes, deep inside me it starts but unlike normal, the waves don’t build slowly, they race through my innards. I know just where they are headed and quickly they arrive. My hand squeezes that of Polly, so tight in fact that she flinches, and screams at the same time as I do, as the most wonderful orgasm flashes through me. My only regret is that my coochie wasn’t able to pulse its contractions onto a guy’s hard penis.

Polly Eve looks at me in horror, or is it disgust, or wait… is it incredulity?

“April Noël I am leaving if you don’t come to your senses, how could you expect me to believe that you have had sex with an old man?”

I blink to refocus my eyes after that orgasm and allow her words to drift through the fug in my brain that such a sexual event tends to leave there.

“What more proof do you need Pea,” I hold under her nose the diamond ring. “Either I bought it, I stole it or… I got it as a reward for giving my little coochie,” I clasped at my groin, “what she likes best.”

“But an old man… oh my god, how could you?”

“Let me tell you more, maybe you will understand, maybe you will even want to try an old man for yourself.”

My dear friend sat down, folded her arms and frowned at me; I took it that she was willing to hear a little more of my experience.

In his suite

“Hey, hey! The old guy held my wrists as I eagerly attempted to get the front of his pants undone. “Let’s get in the suite and the door closed… I have all night what about you?”

All night? Didn’t old guys last just till they got their penis in a tight young pussy? All night? I didn’t plan to sleep here. But what had I thought would happen?

“Ha, ha, all night huh, you can last… tell me, when did you last check the credentials of a twenty-two year old niece?”

The old guy looked at me closely. “Uh, we should have names, shouldn’t we, I’m…”

I quickly pressed my finger tips to his mouth, “Shh, no names please, I find it far more exciting to remain strangers.”

“Yuh? Okay, if that’s what you want… actually, I kind of agree; as when, or if, we next meet I can discover yet another new niece on whom to shower gifts.”

Coochie puckered at the mention of gifts, that was after all, what I was here for. That, and to discover what an old man has in his pants and what he could do with it.

I swear that the driving force right at that moment was my pussy; she had been ultra patient, forgiving me not having touched her in hours.

I realise that by insisting that we remain strangers I was promoting myself more than ever as a sex-worker… a call girl… a common prostitute. My libido ramped up a notch at the thought.

As I encompassed my new ‘profession’ I felt that the “fee” should be apparent, but how could I approach the subject, I could put him off all together.

The guy solved my dilemma by taking hold of my fingers and kissing them, I adore that, and I must try to get my regular boyfriends to do it too.

“Please excuse my naked finger, I had to leave a large rock at the jewellers”, I explained.

His answer was to wriggle his wet tongue between each of the fingers on that hand.

If I didn’t soon get to a bathroom to dry myself off, my jeans would quickly become so much stinking rag to throw away, as my pussy was now in flood.

The guy was a mind reader. Still holding my hand he settled unsteadily onto one knee. Fat fingers that had lost some of their dexterity fumbled at the zip to my pants. To encourage him I ran my fingers through his hair that had begun to thin but looked so distinguished in its steely grey.

At my hips the pants were so tight that I had to suck in my already flat belly to allow his fingers to attempt to twist open the top button. In the end the guy relinquished hold of my fingers and used both his hands to finally release the pants.

Looking up at me he paused, I nodded to affirm that he should peel the pants down. This he did far more sexily than I had ever achieved myself in front of a boyfriend. As soon as he had exposed my barely covered pussy he stopped the downward pull on the pants.

It was pure, instinctive reaction that caused me to pull my pussy from his outstretched finger. He looked up again, a rather disappointed look on his face, but it changed to a grin when I pushed my pussy towards that finger.

The pants were still holding my thighs pressed tightly together but that little gap at my pussy allowed the finger to slip effortlessly along the slit formed by my labia that had been uncovered when the tiny string had moved aside. Its progress was aided too by the copious flow of my vaginal secretions.

It turned out that it was the secretions that the old guy was after, and having loaded the finger he withdrew it, examined it, sniffed it delicately, then once again looking up at me he opened his mouth inserted the digit fully in his mouth without it touching lips or teeth or tongue then closed his mouth. He closed his eyes, savouring the first taste, the so slowly his lips and tongue sucked my juices from his finger.

-oOo-

Oh dear, Polly Eve is sitting on the edge of her seat fidgeting, which tells me that she has something to say, and if I don’t let her say whatever it is, she will spoil the story.

I note for the first time that my friend had let her mask of disbelief, incredulity or whatever, slip slightly.  Until my eyes actually fell on them, her hands were fidgeting in her lap, far too close to her groin to be only resting there.

I stop my story, raise my eyebrows and sigh loudly.

“It’s no good sighing at me April Noël; all this silliness is far too preposterous to be true. Old men do not do that sort of thing.”

“And the last old man that you …”

Polly cuts me off, dismissing any words that might cause her to have to come up with an explanation, “You are suggesting that you, a passably good looking twenty-something girl would not have a senile old man cumming in his pants?” Her butt wriggles into the cushions. I take so much pleasure from her subconscious action.

“Polly…” I take her hand, and strangely it is sweaty, and hold it tightly, “this guy was far from senile, and don’t underestimate a mature man, he was so… so… well, he was, he was so sexy!”

“That’s stupid,” she snaps back, “it’s like doing it with your fath…” my friend realises that she is about to overstep the mark and my glare at her reinforces that point.

“Oh, I didn’t… well you know I wouldn’t say… it’s just that… I mean… oh get on with your fucking ridiculous story.”

I realise that getting the better of my dear friend is acting as an aphrodisiac and although I am sure that the earlier orgasm will not be repeated this soon, I do seem to gain considerable sexual pleasure from her, however camouflaged, admission of defeat.

Hotel Suite

I ruffled the old man’s thinning hair; he looked so damned cute kneeling at my feet sucking my secretions from his finger.

As the finger slid once again along the slit formed by my pussy lips I grabbed a handful of his hair to tug his head up so that he was looking up at me.

“This is great fun and I am sure you could do this all day but it isn't that comfortable for me,” I smiled down at him, “I am going to over-balance if you get too enthusiastic, how about taking my pants right off?”

It was so sweet to see him struggling to get to his feet in his hurry to make me comfortable. I took pity on his efforts to strip off the jeans that clung to my legs, and finally I was standing, naked from the waist down. I threw off the poncho but left my blouse on.

The guy held me at arm’s length and swept my body with a lecherous look then pulled me to him for a kiss. He had learned quickly how I like to kiss. His open mouth pressed gently at first on mine which was also open slightly to welcome his.  Normally I kiss a guy with my eyes open as I like to see his expression. This man kisses with his eyes closed. How very sweet. His tongue swept my lips and as my tongue was preparing to enter his oral cavity his and mine touched briefly. A beautiful sensation passed between us; I know he felt it too because it caused him to open his eyes. His eyes wrinkled in a smile.

My arms were around his middle and I pulled him tighter. His erection made itself known, pressing into my belly. I wanted it; I wanted to feel it inside me. But I am a creature of habit and for me foreplay is essential, hence I don’t do sex on the back seat of a car, or pressed up against the wall of a back alley.

The tiniest bit of self doubt pushed to the front of my consciousness; his cock was hard and I was sure big enough, but what would it look like? My experience at sucking cock is with guys around my own age, what on earth does an old cock look like; more so, what would it taste like?

With our tongues writhing back and forth in each other’s mouths, with our mouths sucking and mashing together, I winked at him and broke the kiss. I fell to my knees and before he had recovered from that move, I had his pants unzipped and was delving my hand into the fly.

I don’t know why but I was surprised to find that this man didn’t wear boxer shorts. So I was able very easily to grasp the end of his penis as it had erected to above the hip-line of a pair of briefs. It did occur to me that this senior citizen could have been one who wears female panties, but this wasn’t so… I think that I was a little disappointed that he wasn’t kinky.

The texture, the hardness, the girth of his member weren’t the first things on my mind; I needed to see it… see if it was disfigured or had warts or was grotesque in some way.

-oOo-

Polly Eve sweeps the hair from her forehead. Her face glows from the blood that has effused her cheeks. She is breathing quite fast through her mouth and her hands are trembling very slightly as adrenalin spreads throughout her body.

Time and time again her little ass grinds into the cushions. Her eyes are, at this moment, fixed on the area between my legs, legs that I have casually allowed to spread apart. Her knees on the other hand are pressed so tightly and rub together incessantly.

I stop talking and it is a full five seconds before Polly’s eyes refocus and her mind returns from wherever it has been. She frowns and I make out that I am waiting for an answer.

“What? Oh god April your fantasy has become so boring that I almost went to sleep.” She isn't sure what to do; feign interest with the risk I will stop my description, or persuade me to continue but make it seem that she is only being kind, listening to my fantasy.

“Pea, what’s the biggest, fattest cock you ever enjoyed? I try to look innocent because we both know the answer to that, but I want her to run through her “back-seat” sex with an old boyfriend in her mind. My friend is getting so turned on by my story and I want to see what she has in mind as relief for her overheating body.

Polly Eve’s head tilts back, a hand brushes over her breasts and yet again her ass grinds into the cushions as her thighs rub together. I can almost picture what the girl is visualising as I have heard the story so many times before.

 I have to admit that her story of hot, quick sex on the back seat of a car in mid winter, when it took almost a half hour of running the car’s heater to clear the condensation that the couple had generated, was hot. And the description that she gave of the guy’s penis was so graphical that the first time I heard it I was on the point of orgasm by the time she got to the moment he entered her.

“Oh, so you're running out of ideas for this fantasy? I am not surprised; please April Noël, just tell me how you came by the ring, I won’t think any less of you.

“I am getting to the point where all my preconceived ideas about older folks and sex were blown out of the water, Polly.”

It pleased my friend that it appeared that I was prepared to continue my story: at this moment I don’t think it was important to her if my story was true or not.

Point of no return

Hardly before I had his penis pulled outside his pants and was able to begin my visual examination of it the guy unbuckled the clasp that held the pants closed at the waist. The pants dropped to his feet and I giggled at the view I had; his tiny black briefs that tightly cup his ample balls but no longer hold captive his penis. The funniest thing was the tails of his button-through shirt looking incongruous, now there were no pants to hide them.

As he kicked away the pants I slid a hand around to his ass and enjoyed the texture of the briefs hugging the contours of what appeared to be a really tight pair of buttocks. But of course most of my senses were concentrated on the visual examination of his male sexual organ.

It was without a doubt… beautiful. With no younger one with which to compare, I believe that there is little or no difference. Except one important aspect… he had no loose skin; no foreskin, I had never seen that before!

Was I still concerned about what his penis had in store for my taste buds? The enthralling sight of a head without covering skin had me reaching to my pussy as I pulled the phallus to my lips. I kissed the head with the intention of then kissing it bit by bit, but with my fingers attempting to circle over my clitoris in the confines of my kneeling thighs, I didn’t hesitate, I pulled and sucked the entire head between my lips.

I guess the first taste was of whatever shower gel he had used but by lapping hard with my tongue and sucking hard it was only seconds before I tasted beautiful male flesh. Gratifyingly the man groaned as a result of my actions. His hand pressed lightly on my head.

Forsaking my poor pussy but silently promising her some hot action soon, I cupped his balls that were still tightly encased in the briefs. I gently played with his testis within their sack.  Now that I could see the area at the root of his penis I was yet again pleasantly surprised, that this old guy had actually shaven there. Would he mind that I only trim my pubic hair?

Why? Why do I do it, does every girl…and every gay guy? I close my eyes when I have a gorgeous hunk of male flesh between my lips, pressing on my tongue and filling my mouth. Is it because by shutting down one sense another is heightened? I must do a survey.

Just as I did with my pants, so my mature lover want comfort with his briefs. He starts to ease them down his thighs. So now I was kneeling at his feet, his penis half devoured by my mouth and my hands tugging his underwear down to his feet and helping him to step out of it.

I ran my hands back up the outside of his legs until I could then return to cup his testis and encircle his penis tightly with my fingers.

As I fellated him, my hand stroking his penis in unison I wondered if it would be a case of sucking him to orgasm quickly then, as he recovered an erection, to have him perform cunnilingus on my badly neglected coochie. Do old men kiss pussy? I didn’t have a clue; my heart sank at the prospect that he may find it unacceptable.

My lover groaned loudly and I opened my eyes to look up at him. His head was thrown back; his hands urged my head to increase its rhythm.  Okay it seemed that my mouth would soon receive a sample of his seed; I prepared to gag on the jets of it hitting my throat.

The guy made a move that was so swift that it took me completely by surprise. Strong hands caught under my armpits and like some small doll I was lifted clear off the floor. I squealed as his hard, hot flesh was torn from my mouth. Without time for my feet to gain purchase on the floor I was quickly cradled in his strong arms and carried to the bedroom.

-oOo-

Polly Eve jumps to her feet and is out of the room before I hardly realise it.

“That is so rude Pea, I haven’t finished my story!” I yell at her.

I get up from where I am sitting to follow her. This is a good opportunity to rid my coochie of the string that is threatening to cut me in two; I tease the crotch from between drooling labia, step out of it and hide it under a cushion. I make a mental note to recover the string as soon as possible otherwise visitors with wonder what is the pungent smell.

At the door to the bathroom I hear her moving in the room. The door isn't fully closed so I ease it open. There, her ass perched dangerously close to the edge, sits my friend on the toilet. Her knees are wide apart, but her feet are shackled by a pair of cool cream, lace panties. The cute dress she wears is pulled as high up her legs as possible. What pleases me most is the sight of her hand, it is between her thighs shafting back and forth at her pussy.

“Don’t you dare say a word April Noël, you knew that your fantasy story would get me going, so don’t look so fucking smug. Why you couldn’t do as my other girlfriends and make love with me I will never know. So you see what I have to do instead?” Pea’s fingers squelch in and out of her so obviously highly aroused pussy.

The sight of my friend looking so desperate at having to masturbate pleases me enormously.

“Oh for god sake stop staring and go away, this is humiliating, no doubt you are as dry as a bone at your pussy.” Pea’s face contorts with the effort of the ministrations at her pussy.

Crossing my arms I bend and take hold of the hem of my light dress then raising them I remove the garment over my head leaving me naked. This is the first time that Polly Eve has ever seen me naked and the sight seems to stop her hand for a second, until, almost automatically, it continues its quest to satisfy her sexual demands.

I scoop at my pussy with two fingers then hold them out to Polly for inspection. There is no mistaking just how aroused I am and my friend’s face contorts with frustration that I hold my fingers so enticingly close but out of reach of her outstretched arm.

“April, please don’t do this to me, I want…”

“I know what you want Pea and I am at a stage in my life when I may be ready to give it to you… but you must hear out my story, because girlfriend, I swear that it is true.”

My half promise to be her lover sends Polly Eve crashing over the edge of a monster orgasm, so great is it that in the throes of its effects she over balances and topples from her perch on the toilet.

Unfortunately I am helpless with laughter and have to watch her struggle to her feet. In the next second I am running screaming from the room hotly pursued by my friend.

Inevitably she catches me, encompasses my body with her arms and throws me onto the couch. Standing back she prepares to divest herself of her own dress but I reach out to stop her.

But you said…” she protests, “You said that you would give me what I want, what I have desired for far too long…”

“I also said that you must hear out my story, Polly.”

“Oh April, I believe it all now, honestly I do… why not tell me the rest another time and it will provide us with another opportunity to…” She could see from the look in my eyes that wasn’t going to win so dropped her dress again.

At least cover that sensual body April Noël, I can’t bear to sit here with you naked, listening to you tell of having sex.”

The hotel bedroom

In an instant, cool bed linen were at my back as I was placed spread-eagled on his bed. Hot, masculine hands pushed apart my legs and wet lips landed, as if they were a butterfly hopping from bloom to bloom, in twin lines up the inside of my legs, leaving where they had landed a cool spot of wetness. My skin tingled then erupted in goose bumps. My hand inevitably arrowed towards an aching clitoris only to meet the barrier of his hands that denied me the right to swirl fingers over my swollen nub.

My hands had to satisfy themselves with a vigorous massage of my aching boobs. Fingers that found at their tips two areolas, rubbed them firmly sending shafts of pleasure through my boobs. Then, not satisfied with these playthings they allowed two of their number, finger and thumb, to grip and roll between them in pairs, my erect nipples. It didn’t matter that the blood-darkened nipples were now super-sensitive; in fact they took great delight in causing the type of pain that is so pleasurable and that in combination will accelerate the forthcoming joy that was now being generated at my pussy.

The generator of the sensual joys at my love canal was the old man’s mouth, aided by his tongue and, new to me, his nose, which dug and ploughed where ever it was directed.

I do not believe that I am any more sensuous than any other girl, so I am sure that other females would have sympathised with the situation in which I then found myself.

The prospect of genuine, expensive bling; a sexy mature man, possibly three times my age, willing to buy me the jewellery; an assignation with him in his hotel, and the tremendous nervous energy at feeling like a prostitute; his big hands on my young body; his old penis in my mouth, tasting as I image the difference between young, raw wine and the finest old wine. Yet all this time despite my promises, my poor drooling coochie had had scant attention. Is it any wonder that now she cannot, will not, wait any long for the relief she craves?

With the guy’s tongue probing deeply between hugely erect labia, his thumb pressing and rolling hard over my clitoris, it was upon me; a huge tsunami of infinite sexual pleasure that started a few scant moments ago somewhere that I can never pin down. It built softly, almost secretly, barely making itself known until with huge pent-up force it swept through and over me, making me it’s captive, holding my whole body in its grip, not  relenting until it had spent it power, then dropped me like a rag doll, unable to control my reflexes, my voice, my movements.

Although it took my man only seconds to conclude that I was still alive and that it was as a result of his expert attentions that I screamed and writhed and issued forth a stream of expletives, he did look rather worried until I found the strength to smile reassurance.

“Wow, do all old guys put in that kind of performance…” before he could answer I wanted to know… “And does it get even better?”

“You deserve the truth young lady and the truth is I have never had that depth of response to my love-making.”

“Well before I waste any more time or energy on the wrong man you had better fuck me, I don’t want to be disappointed. But please, take off that shirt!”

Yes he had a paunch that young men of my group didn’t. He was a little overweight, he had grey on his chest, but when he pressed that penis to my begging vulva and it peeled apart my labia, when it opened me up and slid along my sensitive vagina, as yet another orgasm blasted my aching body…

-oOo-

“Enough for fuck sake April Noël, I can’t stand anymore! I believe you okay? Now make good on your promise!”

Polly Eve has not been able to restrain herself any longer and has divested her body of its covering of clothing. With fingers once again pummelling long, slim fingers in and out of her vagina she has reached breaking point. Launching herself from her sitting position on the floor she throws herself at my still naked body.

It took me no effort to tell my friend my sexy story as it was true, I had no need to concentrate. Polly Eve on the other hand was concentrating on paying homage to the queen between her thighs who commanded every attention with almost exclusivity.

Thus as her naked body hit mine I was ready… I caught hold, twisted and was in an instant sitting on her as she now lay horizontal on the couch.

Straddling her shoulders with my knees, my legs trapping her arms, and my ass almost on her head I pulled her thighs apart. An overworked pussy dribbled and shone with her flowing juices. I bunched three fingers of one hand and thrust them into where only seconds ago her own fingers had been working so hard. She yelled with delight that now the false phallus consisted of my flesh not hers.

Pressing my also flowing pussy backward I felt her hot breath blowing on my wetness in quick expirations. Then her mouth was on me, devouring my slick flesh, sucking hard at my secretions. But my darling Pee would not win this one… she would get a quick gratification as I brought her to orgasm… but no more than that… I had other plans for her sometime soon in the future.