She had been flying for many hours and awake even longer. The overnight British Airways flight from Tampa to London Gatwick, then a commuter flight to his city. For a matter of four days she had conducted an intense, online relationship with a married British businessman. She was, in fact, his online mistress, arising each morning at 3 a.m. to cyber him (and herself) to orgasm. A mere nudge on her IM screen would bring her running to the computer at any time of day like one of Pavlov’s dogs—and she would always perform to his satisfaction (and hers). She loved her sexual role in his life; even thinking about being his mistress made her warm and wet. Apparently the businessman’s wife didn’t object to his online sex play, but laid down a firm rule against any face-to-face contact. The mistress occasionally kidded him that taking her from behind wasn’t really face-to-face. He’d just laugh and tell her to get back to sucking his cock like a good little slut. And when he talked to her like that, it greatly enhanced her performance—and the result.
The problem she faced the previous day was that Valentine’s Day loomed on the fifth day of their relationship, and she was mystified as to how to handle it. It was too early in the relationship to do—or expect—anything significant, yet no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn’t come up with the ‘perfect’ non-gift. The idea finally hit her on Feb. 13 and she rushed to arrange and catch her flight to England. Once she was on the plane, though she might fleetingly second-guess her decision, she was determined to go through with it. ‘In for a Euro, in for a Pound,’ was her feeling.
She knew what she was doing was pretty crazy, but she’d had more than her share of crazy sexual adventures and wasn’t too worried about that aspect. But, it has been over a year since she had been with a man, since before she left an abusive marriage. There had been a few very enjoyable flings with women, and a couple of wildly-adventurous, half-drunk orgies, but she knew she craved the taste, the feel, the touch of a hard cock. If things worked out, she was about to break a long dry spell. And try as she might to dismiss it as impossible, she knew, too, that her bold move might either end her brief but very satisfying role as an online mistress—or it might elevate it to a new level. That brought a smile to her face, and she blushed a bright red when a flight attendant passing by stopped to comment: “Looks like you’re having a happy thought.” Oh yes, a very happy thought.
A taxicab took her to his office—without a minute to spare, for it was twenty til noon GMT. She paid the cab driver double to wait for her, and entered the huge reflective doors of the office complex. It took her only a minute to find his office. A quick stop in a ladies’ room reassured her that she had somehow survived the travel looking fairly presentable, and she quickly donned the rest of her costume.
Standing now in the outer office, she looked perfectly calm and collected in her uniform-like black pantsuit, with white dickey and black bow tie in the V of the suit jacket. A short-brimmed black cap hid all her hair and was pulled down low nearly to her eyes. A pair of large sunglasses hid much of her face. She thought she might pass for a messenger, but also knew she might look a little too good. She carried a small attach?ase.
The receptionist looked up from her work.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“I have a special delivery for Bruce.”
“I’ll take it.”
“I must give it to him personally.”
“He’s very busy right now.”
“I won’t be long.”
A spark of recognition gleamed in the receptionist’s eyes and she turned to her phone console and pressed the intercom button.
“Bruce, there’s a special delivery for you,” and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I think your wife sent you a stripper.”
The intruder blushed a bit, but kept her composure and thought, Hmm, close.
The receptionist returned her gaze to the woman and said, “You can go in but he’s very busy and he has to leave in 10 minutes for lunch with his wife.” The warning and the accusatory tone were clear.
She opened the door and entered Bruce’s spacious office and took a moment to take in the details, for he was turned away from the door, typing rapidly on his computer
Without turning around, he said, “Just a moment, let me just finish this trade or my wife won’t be able to afford to pay you.”
She smiled as she realized that the deception was still intact. Finally Bruce turned toward her in his swivel chair, saying, “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got. I have to leave here in 10 minutes.”
She removed her cap, shook her head once and her long, straight blonde cascaded down her back. Keeping her sunglasses on, she unbuttoned the suit jacket and shed it in a single motion by simply shrugging her shoulders once. One more quick move and the dickey-and-tie disappeared. She stood topless before him. She smiled when she saw him staring at her nipples with puzzlement. She knew they were her best feature, and wondered if he was beginning to catch on. His startled look told her that he more likely was wondering how his wife could know that his online mistress had long straight blonde hair and pencil-eraser nipples.
When she removed the oversized wrap-around sunglasses and finally broke into a huge smile, she saw his jaw literally drop.
“Oh…my…God! Gay!?! How did you...how could...you’re not...”
“BA,” she said, and then added, “frequent-flier miles.”
As he came out from behind his desk to greet her she stopped him with an outstretched hand. He clearly intended to embrace her, maybe even to kiss her. That would be going way too far. She had agreed to his wife’s rule about no face-to-face meeting, and was about to further to violate it. But kissing or hugging would, in her mind at least, be even worse. After all, face-to-cock wasn’t face-to-face, she thought wryly.
“The rules, Bruce. But, I’ve come to collect my Valentine’s Day present and there’s no time to talk.”
“But I didn’t get you anyth…”
“No time to talk Bruce. I’m here for my Valentine’s Day present.”
“Oh, shit, Gay, I didn’t know…”
“Not another word about it. I’m about to collect my present now.”
Gay dropped to her knees in front of him, grabbed eagerly at the impressive package that was barely hidden by his wool suit pants. She took the zipper in her teeth, looked up at him with pleading blue eyes and slowly lowered it. She then reached inside and extracted a long, lovely cock and immediately surrounded it with her hungry mouth, laving its entire surface with rapid movements of her tongue. She repeatedly brushed her hard nipples against his slacks and they brought heat and wetness to her loins.
He touched her head everywhere, with long slow strokes along her blonde hair, gently sliding the backs of his hands along her soft cheeks, fingertips tracing the lines of her neck. She felt petted and reveled in the attention.
Her fist grabbed the hardening member and pulled back the foreskin completely, revealing the full purple glory of his engorged cock. Her long tongue explored every crevice and ridge of his cock and spent time circling the base of the cockhead. A few random flicks of her tongue-tip teased the small opening from which would flow her present.
He reached down as far as he could with grasping fingers and found her nipples even more extended than he had ever imagined them to be. He took each between a thumb and forefinger and teased them—tweaking, pinching lightly, pulling a bit. She knew now that the trip would be doubly pleasurable for if he kept it up, she, too, would come. Her own wetness was already soaking her panties and she was glad for their last-minute addition, for she rarely wore them.
“Keep teasing them, Bruce, they love it,” she said as she reached into his pants to bring into view the rest of the package, paused briefly to admire the balls, then went to work with her tongue, tasting each and teasing the opposite with gentle, nimble fingers. She took each into her mouth completely and sucked gently, releasing each with a wet plopping sound.
Returning her attention to his glistening cock, she licked its length on all sides and took the swollen glans into her mouth to suck it, lick it and scrape her teeth along its sensitive surface. Reaching a free hand inside his pants she massaged his buttocks, then gently probed the entry to his anus with a circular motion.
He continued to play with her nipples as she began to take more and more of him into her mouth and throat with increasingly forceful thrusts of her head. Speeding up and feeling his cock begin to pulse she went into the frenzied face-fucking deep-throat mode that she knew would soon bring his release. As his cockhead continued to bang her throat, she began to tease his O-ring more insistently and managed to mumble muffled words from around his plunging pile-driving cock, “twist them, hard, now,” and thrust a finger into his anus.
He began to shudder and so did she as he began to maul her sensitive nipples. His forceful orgasm coated her throat and the inside of her mouth and she worked her tongue to try to capture every last drop. As his pulsations began to subside, hers continued throughout her body and she tried to maintain her concentration on gobbling down every last drop of her Valentine’s Day present. When he had finally stopped squirting into her, she used her tongue to clean his penis, milked the few last drops from it with her busy hands, then gave a final sucking kiss to the tip of his glans, savoring a final taste.
On wobbly legs she regained her feet, wetness pervading her crotch, her entire body flushed red, her face one giant smile as she said, “Thank you for my present, Bruce. It was exactly what I wanted. Now we must both go. You don’t want to be late.”
She put on the suit jacket, buttoned it across her bare breasts, placed the dickey in her pocket, donned the sunglasses, turned to leave and hesitated, tossing him the black cap like a Frisbee.
“A souvenir,” she said as she strode out of his office, still flushed from her own orgasm, a huge smile still on her face from the thought of his.
Before returning to her waiting taxi, she put on a sheer blouse she had kept carefully folded in her attach?ase.
At a hotel near the airport she quickly checked in for one night to await her morning flight back to Florida. As an afterthought, she asked if there were a pool and maybe someplace to buy a bathing suit. The front desk clerk sent her to the concierge to obtain a pool pass, and the friendly concierge informed her:
“You know we also have a very nice workout facility. And the gift shop also has gym togs if you need them. The people up there are very helpful and very friendly. How long will you be with us?”
“Just tonight, I’m afraid. I flew over for one short meeting today and am returning to the States tomorrow morning.”
“Short visit. Successful, I hope?”
“Oh, yes, successful.” I blushed, then broke into a wide smile as I added. “As a matter of fact: Mission Accomplished.”
Part 2: HER VALENTINE’S DAY SURPRISE
Sitting in my hotel room at last, eating a room-service club sandwich and drinking iced tea, I reflected on my impulsive act of earlier in the day. By the time I flew home tomorrow morning I would wind up flying 9,000 miles round-trip to give the man I served as on-line mistress a blow job as his—and my—Valentine’s Day present.
I had violated his wife’s one, clearly-stated rule against face-to-face contact (though I smiled as I reflexively defended it as not face-to-face but face-to-cock). I had discovered that he was, indeed, a very tall (probably 6-6) and quite handsome businessman of some means who had a very suckable cock, and that he was as mesmerized by my nipples as I was myself. I had risked the online relationship by violating the rule and wouldn’t know its future until I got home tomorrow and checked my email inbox. I wouldn’t check now; I wanted to savor the day and the surprise I had successfully pulled off. I loved Bruce’s sense of humor and his gentle manner as much as his impulsively abrupt commands without warning: ‘Suck my cock’ ‘Let’s fuck now’ ‘Take off your clothes and play with yourself’. This may not be the stuff of romantic poetry, but it thrilled me and I would hate to lose it. I wasn’t used to being told what to do, but found that it stirred something inside me in ways that I hadn’t experienced before. I also knew that there might be an upside to my impulsive flight to England, that the violation of the rule might lead to occasional further encounters, and that my distance from him might make them infrequent, but that might also enhance the intensity of them.
Tonight, after a long flight and an anxious morning anticipating my Valentine’s Day surprise for Bruce, I knew that I would sleep well. But this afternoon, I felt restless. I should probably have just bought a bathing suit and gone swimming, but I was intrigued by the concierge’s words: “You know we also have a very nice workout facility. And the gift shop also has gym togs if you need them. The people up there are very helpful and very friendly.” ‘Very friendly’ sounded pretty good to me for, as emotionally satisfying as was the blow job I gave Bruce, it wasn’t entirely satisfying sexually. As a matter of fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d really like to finally experience the feeling of a man inside me. It had been far too long, and the brief contact with Bruce had really just awakened my desperate need for cock.
So, instead of my usual exercise of swimming laps, I decided to go to the gym. Maybe ‘very friendly’ meant there’d be men there, or even a woman would be okay. Cybersex had been great, but I knew that I needed to satisfy flesh—and for flesh to satisfy me. As I put on the little pair of shorts and the too-tight sports bra that made my always-poky nipples very visible, I wondered if there’d be some young hunk in the gym, a muscular Adonis who would want to ravish me. Not usually my type--I usually go for the buttoned-down look--but it seemed to match my sex-starved mood. As I put my hair in a ponytail and looked in the mirror to check out my ‘look’ I was quite pleased with the fuck-me appearance I presented. It certainly matched my mood.
When I walked into the gym facility, I felt as though I were entering a maze. The bright lights emphasized the pristine whiteness of all the mysterious equipment and I felt bewildered as I looked around the room. There were two women talking to one another on adjacent Stairmasters. Somewhere in the back a loud noise told me that someone with some expertise was working out on a machine. I headed that way, hoping that it might be the ‘very friendly’ attendant.
You were punishing some sort of machine with powerful thrusts from your arms that made your pecs and abs—hell, your entire body--flare into definition. You made it seem almost effortless; instead of sweat dripping from you, there was just a fine sheen that emphasized your body’s perfection. You were sooooo not my type, well, except for right this minute. I wanted to turn you into a salt lick and was pretty sure my tongue was hanging out of my mouth when you stopped pumping and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Well, um, er, I guess you could if you’re the friendly attendant,” you hear me stammer. At that, you sat up and for the first time I saw your lovely face and tousled brown curls. Then, in a move so fast I didn’t see it happen, you were standing in front of me, taller, nearly towering over me, maybe 6-2.
My goodness, you are an Adonis, I thought. You were staring holes at my little sports bra and my nipples were trying their best to create those holes for you; as always, they were betraying my innermost and most lurid thoughts.
“Well, hehe, I don’t actually work here, but I’m pretty friendly and I’d be happy to try to help you. My name’s Dan. What do you want to do?” Your youthful face makes me wonder if you’re even out of your teens, but you are beautiful and I want to tell you that I want you to fuck me.
I held out my right hand and you took it gently in yours as you say, “Hi, Adonis, my name’s Gay.” You chuckled, and I blushed, at my Freudian slip, but you heard me try to recover. “I don’t know much about gyms, Dan, but I’d like to get a workout.” Your eyes opened wide and I knew I might as well have asked you to bend me over the nearest piece of mystery equipment and slip it to me. “Er, you know, get the blood flowing.” Oh…my…God! I must have sounded like a complete slut. He must think I’m some desperate old broad who’s craving.... Er, well, I guess I am.
“I don’t think getting the blood flowing is a problem, actually, hehe,” Dan said, smiling, maybe blushing a little. My eyes went straight to his crotch—I mentally slapped my forehead for doing yet another obvious thing—and, sure enough, he had quite a tent in the front of his little gym shorts. Oh yeah, I told myself. This is going to happen. I bent over the strange-looking machine in front of me, grabbed something that looked like the head-rest on top of an automobile’s front seat and asked, “What goes here?”
He leaned into me and his raging hard-on pressed into my butt crack. I wiggled my ass gently and rubbed his manhood, taunting and teasing, thinking only one thing: fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. His voice cracked a bit as he said, “Well, nor-, uh, normally your head.”
I bent over until my head was well below my butt, put a hand on the headrest and said, “Let’s get some exercise, Dan.”
As he began to slip my little gym shorts down over my ass, he cautioned, “I may not last very long. I’m pretty excited. But I’ll be able to get hard again in a minute or two.”
“Oh yes, you will, Dan. You can count on that.” I stepped out of my shorts, now clad only in sneakers and a sports bra, and felt his big cockhead poised at the entrance to my achingly-hungry, hot, wet pussy. I spread my stance wide, and pushed back against him, thrilling at the feeling of his manhood beginning to enter me. He thrust forward, tentatively at first, then fully impaling me with his rock-hard sword. The feeling of finally being filled again brought a tear to my eye. It had been too long, way too long.
Soon he was pounding into me with urgency and as his pace quickened I realized that he would soon be squirting his precious juices into me. I reached down between my legs and felt his full balls, teasing them a bit. My pussy was involuntarily sucking him off each time he entered me. I began to touch myself and immediately felt my own orgasm begin to rumble from deep within me. My beginning spasms brought a gasp from him, and he unleashed a remarkable series of spurts into me—at least a dozen—before slowing a bit, still sliding in and out of me as he wound down and I continued my internal earthquake. At last he pulled out of me and my shaking body sought balance from the headrest against which I still clung.
Recovering slightly, I turned to him and saw him glistening with sweat, muscles toned, a shy, self-satisfied smile on his face. I smiled at him and ran my hands down his muscular torso, then dropped to my knees before his semi-erect cock. As his massive load of cum ran out of me and down my thighs, I focused on our mixed juices covering his manhood. Still struggling to regain normal breathing, I licked his cockhead, savoring the salty-sweet mixture that is unique to every coupling but rarely unsatisfying. I tasted every inch of his long member, top, bottom and sides and concluded by licking my lips. My mouth absolutely craves strategic body parts, loves to feel them respond to me, loves the changing flavors as they perform their instinctual operations.
My hand grasped his cock and stroked it gently. It was clearly ready for more action, but I can’t help myself. My mouth went for his balls and I gently teabagged him, taking each nugget into my mouth, sucking gently, and laving it with my tongue. His cock was throbbing as much as my erect nipples and swollen clit; I grabbed the upright flagpole in one hand, regained my feet and pulled it down to try to straddle it, but he was just a bit too tall. He cupped my asscheeks and, almost effortlessly, lifted me, and I guided him to reentry into my waiting pussy.
I found myself impaled again, backed against a wall, leaning against it, and suspended by his strong hands on my bottom and his magnificent member deep, deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and I steadied myself by placing a hand around his neck. My other hand grabbed my sports bra and pulled it up until it was a necklace. His eyes widened when he saw my long, pink nipples, which were throbbing again with excitement and seeming to scream for attention. He immediate latched onto one and sucked hungrily, and began to slide in and out of me. I grabbed the other nipple with my free hand and begin to abuse it, tugging, twisting, pulling, and he got the idea. Tentatively at first, he his used his teeth on the other, biting gently. Still plunging into me with regularity, he then began to bite harder. I gasped at the pain-pleasure combination and pulled his head to the other nipple.
Consumed by the lust that surrounded me and continued to thrust deep inside me, again and again, my head lolled from side to side; my eyes lost and regained focus. When our two pairs of blue eyes met, I managed a big smile and my free hand reached down to cup his heavy ball sack, fondling the nuggets and spurring him to deeper penetration and a faster rhythm.
“I think I’m about to cum again, Gay,” Dan grunted through clenched teeth. Oh yes, you certainly are, young man, and so am I, so am I.
“Come for me, Dan, and I’ll cum all over your cock, drenching it.” In fact my self-lubricating system was already doing that. His final forceful thrust began a series—perhaps another dozen—of ejaculations by this remarkably-virile young man, and set off fireworks inside me that had me clutching anything I can hold as my body completely lost control and shuddered violently in spasm after spasm that left me as limp as a dishrag. As Dan gently set me back down on my feet, my wobbly knees couldn’t hold me up. The sweet young man held me as I regained my land-legs. Our fluids dripped down my thighs. My breath was short, but recovering. My joy was immeasurable. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
“You know, Gay, I think I’m a little smitten,” he says as he strokes my hair and cheeks, softly, almost lovingly, and wipes away the little tears of joy that form at the corners of my eyes. “I could definitely get used to this.”
“You know what they say, Dan. You never outgrow your need for MILF.” And I staggered off to the shower room to clean my cum-soaked loins and to try to regain some degree of composure.
Under the scalding shower, I shuddered again at the ecstasy just given me by this wonderful young hunk—and I can’t help myself. I touched my nipples lightly and, as always, they sprang to attention again and sent jolts of electricity directly to my well-fucked pussy. One hand continued to tease, pull and twist my tender nipples while the other dove between my legs to touch my still-sensitive, coral-pink sex. I thrust two fingers inside myself and felt the recently-invaded space clamping down on them, accepting them hungrily. Two fingers pumped relentlessly and my thumb began to taunt my still-engorged clit, which again began to emerge from its hood. I couldn’t stop. The thought of the muscular young man had me creaming all over my hand and dripping down my legs again. I couldn’t get his cock out of my mind as I fucked myself toward what would be a third wonderful orgasm in a memorable workout at the gym.
I heard voices outside the shower room and knew there were women approaching. But, I couldn’t stop. I finger-fucked myself relentlessly and teased the button that awaited one final push. My eyes were closed against the rushing water from the shower, but when I heard the voices suddenly stop, I knew they must have been shocked when they saw this wanton slut fucking herself like a bitch in heat. I clamped my thumb down directly onto my swollen bud and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming in ecstasy as I experienced yet another wave of wonderful spasms. They went on--and so did I with my fingers. At last I removed my hand, brought it to my lips, and sucked my juices from it. When I stepped aside and opened my eyes, I was staring at the two women.
They turned to leave, one with a dismissive exaggerated roll of eyes, the other with a wink, a smile and a comment over her shoulder, “Way to go girl!”
I blushed, then smiled, and managed to reply, “You should have seen the first two.”
From far down the hall I hear, “Oh, we did, we did.”
I was at first embarrassed at the thought that they had watched me sluttily seduce Dan into fucking me twice in the gym then fuck myself silly in the shower like an insatiable whore. But, I quickly realized that the warmth I felt wasn’t from embarrassment. In fact, I was utterly thrilled that my wanton behavior had an audience. As I thought to myself, ‘God, you are such a fucking slut,’ I felt myself grinning broadly.
I slept through much of the long flight home to Florida the next day and thought very little about the events of the previous day—or their consequences. Only when I was finally back in my little beach place did I check my email and find one from Bruce: “Sorry we couldn’t spend more time together. I hope Dan proved to be an adequate Valentine’s Day present. Bruce”
I sighed contentedly, giggled a bit at his cleverness at finding me yesterday, and immediately replied: “Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”