Surprise revelations

I have been sort of in love with this chef from about the moment I met him on my second day of work at the cafe. He's 40, short shorn salt and pepper hair, messy scruffy facial hair and he's wonderfully tall but wiry. But of course he'd never shown any interest in me; handsome, mature, professional pay attention to a young, flippant somewhat promiscuous kid like me? Unlikely. So I've harboured this crush for ages. When I pick up meals from the kitchen, I sometimes dare to make eye contact with him across the pass, but always have to look away, flushing. His gaze is just too intense, and also too frightening. He has that manic, serious chef look about him, like he might thrash me if I bring back a cold plate from a missing customer or if I pass on any patron complaints. Terrifying but intensely desirable. It's not just me, the other girls half fancy him too, but perhaps not as much as me. But we'd never seen him with any women, and on questioning the other chefs, they said they'd never heard him mention any kind of relationship. So being stupid girls, pride hurt by complete lack of interest in any of us despite many (other) girl's efforts to get his attentions, we put it down to his likely being gay. A stupid thing to do.

I was called up to the coffee station to deliver a latte upstairs to said chef, who was in the office attempting to do some paperwork while he nursed a hangover. I knocked but he must not have heard. He was seated behind the desk, in front of the computer, one hand wrapped around a very rigid, purplish cock as he watched some noisy, girl-on-girl porn playing across the screen.

And one of those girls was me!

Pink

What is it with my penchant for super kinky men recently? It feels like ages since I've just been laid down on my back on a bed, legs spread generously being fucked missionary style. Absolutely ages. I'd welcome it, I think. And yet, sometimes it seems that the most important thing about that position is that you have to want to really watch the face above you, contorting as he thrusts in and out. You have to want him to see your raw and honest pleasure on your face and hope that it is beautiful and inspiring to him and his climax. Maybe I associate love with missionary.

But what a treat to be told to stand facing the wall, panties missing, legs spread and hands pressed firmly against the cold concrete and a warm and stubbly face disappears under my skirts to sniff and nuzzle the pinkness there as it begins to warm and moisten and drip. Enormous fingers squeezing my bottom, a large forefinger tickling my puckered hole making me squeal. He refuses to touch my lips until he sees the first drop of my wetness hit the hot asphalt between his splayed legs. It hits his pant leg instead, but it still counted and all ten fingers added their efforts in spreading me open as I would go, exposing what he called 'the pinkest little pussy' he had ever seen. The tongue is such an amazing muscle, soft and laving but also rigid and pointed, he thrust his thick tongue deep into my pussy and tickled it hotly. I was tongue fucked and a little finger popped its tip into by bottom. His beaky nose was pressed against the slowly developing curls there, left untouched at his command. It's almost dangerous being eaten so thoroughly while standing up. My thighs were quaking from the effort of standing up. I was being noisy, mewling and crying out with every stroke of his tongue, echoing through the carpark. Anyone could have seen. If there was a security guard I'm sure he must have been somewhere watching and anyone working over-time and only heading home in the late hours would have been in for a show.

All he had to do was drag his tongue from pussy to clit and wrap his full lips around the nub and suck and I cried out, pressing back against the wall, trying my hardest not to fall, dripping cream all over his flushed face. When he had licked up as much as he could, he emerged from under my skirt, dragged me back to the car and drove us back to his place, his face still shining with my wetness.

Deranged

Two tall, broad, gruff, rough, construction workers walked into the cafe I was getting my lunch at. One smiled at me. I can't get them out of my head now. Both of them. At the same time. I've not really thought such a thing would appeal to me, but all of a sudden it does.

What's happened to me? Sure Richard has gone on holiday, but with or without him my sex life has always been great. But somethings wrong with me. A ridiculous, burning, insatiable slightly deranged thing. I feel like I should perhaps not leave the apartment lest I try to encourage some sort of new encounter with a passing handsome older male.

I'm just sort of lying here writhing. Hoping for something to happen. I could call someone, but for some reason I don't want someone I've already had. I'm desperate for something new. Can I really be that bored? I'm too greedy. I shouldn't.

I think I might just stay here under the covers and fantasise. It might be enough for a while.

Show

A strange and crazy thing. Sitting spread legged on the bed in front of the window open on the night. Able to see everything, from cars to walking passers-by, lit windows in the apartment block across the street, trying my hardest to keep silent, wondering if anyone can see me at all. Secretly hoping, but also terrified and struggling to move away. But one hand held my hands behind the small of my back and kept my posture taunt, the other kept my legs open, dipping the fingers into my dripping pussy, pinching my clit, spreading my lips and letting me feel the cool breeze, making me gasp and shiver. I would have rather he just lay me down and fuck me, let me close my eyes. But he held me open and shoved his fingers into me again and again until I came loudly and wetly all over his hand, shining in the reflected streetlights.

And he didn't even let me touch him.

I'm frustrated. If I don't have him tonight I might go mad.

Barriers

It is a deliciously cruel torture to be fucked through one's panties. The soaking wet yellow silk was pressed firmly against my entrance, pushed inside millimetre by millimetre by a blunt and swollen cockhead. It was like being a virgin again; the hymen felt like it would never give way, and my passage was too small for his size, but when finally the barrier is removed it's like a revelation. He refused to remove my panties though I tried to wriggle and squirm out of them. Every now and again he would stop his cruel shallow fucking to bend down and press his tongue against my wet lips through the silk. I thought I would cry I wanted him deeply inside so badly.

Suddenly he ripped them from me and pulled my legs open. I cried relief but he stuffed my panties in my mouth and pressed me down into the bed with a hand between my shoulder blades while lifting my bottom in the air, spreading me open with the fingers of one hand and entering with one firm and shocking stroke. He grunted and growled as he thrust and pulled so hard that I forgot to breathe and could only do so in gasps between his movements.

Later he took those panties from my mouth and flipped me over. Two silk covered fingers were pushed inside me and he crushed and stuffed them until they disappeared inside. His lips surrounded my mound and his tongue tickled my clit as he slowly pulled them back out. I came screaming.

Doesn't sound like Richard? It wasn't. He went on holiday without me. For three weeks. Which naturally means he's going to be chasing down someone else. I can hardly mind when I've a list of people I've been dying to try, growing longer as I spent more time being 'exclusive'.

Inspiration

It's amazing how small changes to a normal sex act can make it suddenly feel so much dirtier and naughtier. Having Richard loom over me in bed, his spread fingers cupping my left breast as he licked and sucked my nipple in between his fingers. Watching him do that sent such shivery, quivery tingles all over that I had to close my eyes. It was somehow so much naughtier than normal nipple licking. Being bitten rather than kissed down my side. Being told repeatedly that he would not eat me no matter what I said and then suddenly feeling hands lifting me up by my bottom and his nose and mouth buried in my folds being tasted with such ferocity that it should have hurt and been too much but with all his previous attacking I just rode the overload of sensation.

He looked so cute with his sticky wet face as he climbed back over me and I sucked on the end of his nose. He rubbed his face in my breasts leaving my own juices all over me and then propped two pillows under my bottom and two behind my head. In that position, everything is visible to both of us; I could curl myself up so I saw his bulbous purple head push my lips apart and press so slowly inside. Richard was so controlled, I felt every millimetre slide in. When he hit the back wall I arched my back and threw back my head. I think I nearly blacked out. It was so deep, so filling I couldn't breathe. As he fucked my deeply and slowly, watching me watch his cock, he told me to place the forefinger of my right hand on my clit. But I wasn't allowed to rub. I pressed myself hard, grinding against my finger desperately. Then he told me to reach around with my left hand and press my forefinger against my anus. Curled up and under him I felt completely overtaken and wonderfully controlled. He told me to pinch my clit hard and he began to fuck me hard. I think I was screaming. He bent down and bit a nipple and I came, thrusting upwards, feeling his cock try to break me in two. Richard came hotly inside me, convulsing and groaning in my ear and I knew no more till morning.

Two in a day

I was very impressed with Richard managing to fuck me twice on New Years. Not the easiest feat for a gent his age. The first fuck of the New Years was a lovely lazy morning one, with much nuzzling and nibbling of his saggy balls and slowly licking up and down the protruding central vein of his cock. I wonder why men enjoy that so much? I thought I might start the year adventurous, as per my New Years resolution (a potentially dangerous resolution at that) and wet a finger in my thoroughly dripping pussy (an issue that is causing both of us to change our sheets every couple of days) then eased it into his bum hole. I think the last person to put a finger up there was probably his doctor, so Richard did squirm uncomfortably for a while. But I have been determined to find out what all this prostate business is about. He guided me verbally and eventually I found it. It's obvious if you just say 'stick it up there, curl it upwards and point towards my cock from the inside' if you're wanting to guide your own young partners. It'll take less time that way! Oh the noises he made as I suckled on his plummy cock head and stroked the funny little hollow inside him. Maybe like an elephant, and then like a rhino, which sounds terrifying, but is actually awfully cute. I do love men who make proper sex sounds. I would have liked to make him come that way, but I didn't want to start the year without. So I ripped my finger out and hopped on top of him. He slid in so easily and I bounced on him as roughly and enthusiastically as I could, so I could stroke him fully up and down. I felt so full. The slapping wet sticky sounds were a bit comical, but sometimes you want to fuck too hard to care about any decorum. Especially when you've just had your finger up your partners bum.

The second was impromtu. It had rained all New Years night and a bit the next day too. I was bent over leaning out his bedroom window in the dark. Just taking in the fresh clean rain smell washing all the disgusting humidity away. I heard him approaching but pretended not to. I was still wearing the light camisole-like dress from the night before, not bothered to find anything clean. He must have known I'd heard him...it's hard to quiet your rustling trousers. I felt his lovely large rough hands on my bare bottom and felt him pushing the bottom of the dress around my hips. I stepped apart, giving him good access to my pussy and I felt his nose trail through my wetness, something that drives me insane. Anyone in the building's rear garden would have had a bit of a show; a girl leaning out the window, trying to quiet her moans as she had her pussy generously eaten and clit sucked and nibbled. Then seeing her clutch the windowsill for dear life as she was fucked hard from behind by an unseen man. I almost wish I knew for sure that there was someone there.

Such an exhibitionist.