Lamb and chicken

On Saturday afternoon I arrive at Busty Czech’s home with my heart in my mouth. I have to dump her so that I can have The Saffa. I also have to kiss goodbye to a thousand Pounds for a holiday that I’m now not going to have with Busty Czech. The Saffa is patiently waiting for me to stop seeing Busty Czech so that she can have me to herself, but her patience is wearing thin. This situation has felt like a vice with me trapped in the middle. I know what I have to do and I’m not looking forward to doing it.

Busty Czech greets me at her door and she is wearing a leopard-print dress which strikes me as a bit odd. She’s all positive and bubbly, talkative and perpetually smiling at me. I can’t dump her immediately after walking through the door; I’ll wait until she’s calmed down.

She makes us coffee and we seat ourselves in the lounge. There’s a wonderful smell in the air; what is it? Busty Czech is on a rampage of telling me everything that is in her head. Her thoughts about our trip to the French Riviera in a week’s time dominate. Over her shoulder I notice a wrapped present sitting in the middle of the dining table. She’s like an excited little girl, it’s so sweet.

Our chats at night over the weeks have always had a negative slant to them so her positive behaviour now I find surprising. Why is she being so ebullient? Then I figure out it’s because she’s gone to some effort to lay on a day of treats for my birthday. She’s a Giver and definitely not a Taker. Oh shit, when is the right time to do this?

“How about you open your present first?,” she suggests, getting up to go get it for me.

Two weeks ago she asked me what my cologne was, so I told her ‘Hermes Terre’. She seemed to listen carefully to this, so I’m guessing I’ll be getting that for my birthday.

I open the carefully wrapped box to find a large, dark-blue scented candle in it.

“I simply love the smell of that candle because it reminds me of you. It smells manly,” she says with a smug smile.

I swallow hard; I’m not feeling very manly at the moment.

I can’t dump her now; best to wait a little bit longer.

Her upbeat nature continues until a buzzer sounds in the kitchen. She’s prepared a leg of roast lamb and it’s perfectly done. We sit down after I’ve carved the lamb which she knows is my favourite meat. Does The Saffa know that? Busty Czech has laid on the prefect lamb roast with all the traditional trimmings and her culinary skills impress me. I realize that I don’t know anything about The Saffa’s kitchen skills.

Busty Czech is on a roll and just keeps talking, which suits me fine. I’m enjoying the meal but my mind is nagging me. Now’s still not the right time to dump her. Am I sure I’m doing the right thing? At this moment I’m not entirely certain.

I envisaged walking in here, getting her comfortable and then letting her down as gently as I’ve learned to do, courtesy of all the practise I’ve had doing so with other women in the past two years. Busty Czech seems the least deserving of heartache. She’s done nothing wrong; she’s a wonderful person. She’s nothing like the others that I’ve broken up with.

Shit, I just can’t do it; it’s just too hard.

I have to do this over the phone.

Coward!

Looking at my plate of food before me it strikes me that Busty Czech is like a lamb, all cute, harmless and innocent. She is the meek lamb and me, well I guess I’m the cowardly chicken.

So here we are, the lamb and the chicken.

My shoulders relax as Busty Czech brings me an elaborate pavlova dessert that she got up early to make. Her generosity is wonderful, but The Saffa can be generous too.

I’m not a big wine-drinker but most women are. I nurse my glass of red for an hour while Busty Czech polishes off the bottle. Not surprisingly, in my experience, the alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions and she assails me with initially sweet kisses and then lusty ones. If I rebuff her she’ll get upset, she’ll ask me what’s wrong then I have to break up with her to which tears will be added. I can’t stand to see a woman cry.

Busty Czech gets up, disappears into her bedroom and comes back wearing a leopard-print face-mask and bunny ears. It all matches her dress. Ah, this must be part of the birthday surprise she mentioned in her text message. She looks so cute, but what’s this in aid of?

She puts some music on and starts dancing suggestively to it. Well this is a surprise. I can’t dump her now.

“Unfortunately my period started today, but we can have fun in other ways,” she says cheerily.

I’m not sure what she means. I don’t think she’s into anal and she’s not likely to whip out a bag full of toys like Tech Titan did, so what has she got on her mind? I know that some women are at their horniest while they’re menstruating; I’ll have to sit back and see for myself. Fuck it, I’m going to have to forget about dumping her and just have some fun with her tonight.

What’s with women having their periods start at times like these? This is how Life screws with me. Still got to make the best of it.

An idea comes to me and I take my phone out. I’ve never had a woman I’m dating dance for me. I want to capture the novelty of this. I start taking photos with my phone as Busty Czech cracks open another bottle of wine and pours glasses full for us.

She starts dancing again while I snap pics of her. Slowly she starts to unbutton the front of her dress. There’s no sign of a bra as her breasts push against the front of the dress. Something in my groin starts to stir.

Busty Czech strips down to her knickers, all tastefully done and in time to the music. The leopard-print mask and matching bunny ears remain in place on her face and head. I can’t believe she’s letting me take photos of her like this, but I’m not saying anything. She wants to do this for me, so I’ll let her.

Suddenly she stops dancing and takes a seat at the dining table to drink some wine. I’m seated on the sofa opposite her and take some close-up shots. She’s sitting with her knees together in a very lady-like fashion, her breasts dangling down as she takes sips of wine. Damn, she has fantastic breasts!

Thirst quenched and under the affluence of incohol, she glides over to me, gesturing for me to stop taking photos. I put the phone down; why antagonize her?

Busty Czech starts fiddling with my jeans and shirt, unbuttoning both, splaying my shirt open and then tearing my jeans and jocks off, casting them gingerly to one side. Her eyes latch onto my growing cock.

Without a word she sinks down to her knees between my legs and in a quick motion pulls my foreskin back and starts sucking my cock. It feels wonderful.

“Have you ever seen yourself giving a blowjob?” I ask.

“No,” she mumbles with my cock in her mouth.

“I’ll take some photos, then I’ll show you later and I’ll delete them,” I say without waiting for her to say anything else.

Instead of taking more photos I switch my phone onto video-mode as Busty Czech hungrily is sucking on me like a starved lamb attached to it’s mother’s teat.

She is unaware of what I’ve just done and I’m not inclined to tell her, not just yet anyway. Busty Czech closes her eyes and rhythmically sucks away on my cock. As cock-suckers go, she’s one of the better ones I’ve had on the end of my shaft. It’s such a pity that she won’t take my cum in her mouth and then swallow it.

I move my phone to my left so that I can capture more a profile shot and perhaps get some of her fantastic breasts in the footage too.

Oblivious to what I’m doing Busty Czech is happily sucking away on the end of my cock, occasionally stopping to run her tongue around my bell-end or up and down the shaft of my penis. She seems to be in a trance, perhaps brought on by the weird gypsy music she’s playing on the stereo.

TO BE CONTINUED…

I f*cked until her nipples bled

I manage to put aside the mental image of my cum splattered across The Saffa’s pretty face a couple of hours ago and start to think straight again. I realize that I have her and Busty Czech as friends on Facebook and that on Sunday The Saffa had been taking copious pictures that she is likely to post with me tagged in some. That could get awkward, so I unfriend Busty Czech. Will she notice? I don’t want her getting wind of there being someone else on the scene; awkward might become unnecessarily ugly. Instead I want to let her down as gently as possible in a time and a way of my choosing.

Having women I’m seeing as part of my social media is not a good idea. I resolve to only let The One have that access from now on and only when I’m sure that she’s The One. At the moment that day seems so far away.

For now I’ve got two women on my mind and it’s bothering me. I’m inclined to say goodbye to Busty Czech but I’m also not a hundred percent certain about The Saffa. My thoughts keep returning to something in particular that is nagging at me.

Being trapped in The Saffa’s bedroom and having risky sex was great fun, but it was juvenile. More than that, it was disturbing because it showed me that The Saffa has a reckless streak. So she’s perhaps a Good-time Girl and not a Good Girl? The former you just have fun with and the latter you settle down with. I’m looking for the latter; I have to keep that in mind.

Or am I being premature in my assessment of her? If so, then I’m probably equally guilty of being hasty in all matters with Busty Czech too, especially by agreeing to go on holiday with her during our second date. Sadly I don’t get the feeling that she’s The One. I really need to tie up that loose end because it’s preventing me from enjoying and treating The Saffa in the way that she deserves.

The Saffa comes up to see me in my town on the Wednesday as she has the afternoon off. I have no expectation or agenda for how today will turn out for us. I meet her at the train station and we go for lunch in the town, then she raids the charity shops. She only buys a few books and DVDs, being mindful of her limited living conditions. In the late afternoon at my place we watch a movie she bought.

As the movie ends I turn to her and say, “So what do you want to do next?”

The look in her eye is all the answer necessary.

We start having sex on my sofa, but after her first squealing orgasm we move proceedings to the bedroom. At one point she is riding me cowgirl-style and I am adoring her, thinking to myself for the first time that I could fall in love with her. She notices my expression and asks me what I was thinking.

“I’m thinking that I could fall in love with you,” I answer.

I can see her heart swell as she basks in the glory of my words. Her instantaneous smile masks her feelings. Not long afterwards she cums again, squealing her pretty little head off.

I still find it fascinating that a woman’s brain has to be turned on first before her body is. Is it the reverse for men, in that we have to enjoy sex with a woman before we fall in love with her? I’m inclined to say ‘no’ based on my experience with Baltic Babe. I was totally smitten with her before we got physical and still was enamoured after learning that she was a terrible lay.

The Saffa slumps down next to me, exhausted and panting. I get up and move her into position for doggy-style. My cock slides easily into her well-lubricated pussy and my head touches her cervix as she lets off a strangled sound of pain. Hers is the smallest vagina I have ever penetrated, but I think she has a pleasure/pain thing going on and enjoys my filling her up.

My hips go into overdrive and I fuck her as fast as I can for as long as I can. I stop for a few seconds to catch my breath and then go at it for even longer and even harder. All the frustration of the previous weeks was finding a physical outlet; this was angry sex. By my reckoning I was fucking like a man possessed for at least ten minutes. I’ve never fucked a woman so ferociously before.

“Jeez man, can we just take a break?” she asks, gasping for breath as she pulls free of my cock..

The Saffa rolls over onto her back and I see two red, parallel vertical lines, perfect streaks of blood about two inches long smeared onto my white duvet cover. I look at her breasts and see that the tips of her nipples are missing and blood is seeping from them.

I fucked her doggy-style for so long and so hard that her nipples have chafed on my duvet cover and started bleeding!

Yep, I have now fucked a woman so hard that I made her nipples bleed.

She notices the blood too and says, “Holy fuck!”

Without another word I go fetch a wet cloth and some plasters. We do what we can to remedy the bleeding nipples, laugh about it and take a break to get our breath back.

The Saffa seems to stay horny for long stretches at a time. Once she’s turned on, she stays turned on.

“I want to feel your cum in my pussy this time,” she says, catching me by surprise.

I smile and she resumes the doggy-style position, but this time making sure that her breasts are well clear of touching anything. What’s a guy to do but to fuck?

My erection hasn’t subsided much and it only takes a few thrusts in her surprisingly still-moist vagina for normal service to be resumed. By now I’m starting to get tired and don’t want her bleeding on everything, so I resolve to make myself cum as quickly as I know how.

I suck on a thumb and slowly slide it up her bum. The Saffa doesn’t make a sound or movement to even indicate recognition of what I’ve just done.

To help me over the line some naughty talk is required.

“Is this what you want?” I ask.

“Uh-huh,” she replies.

“Is this what you like?”

“Uh-huh,” she mutters.

“Is this what you need?”

“Jah,” she mumbles.

“Is this what you’re good for?”

“Uh, jah,” she says softly as the tip of my cock touches her cervix.

Seconds later she cums again with one of her characteristic high-pitched squeals that wouldn’t be noticed on a pig farm. Her sounds are cute and so much better than the screams of Busty Czech. Not since Krazy Girl have I encountered a cum-machine like her.

Not long afterwards the session ends with me cumming in her pussy au natural. She was asking for it and I was only too happy to oblige. She finished her period last week so I thought it safe to ejaculate in her. Her pussy and my cock are a good fit.

After some cuddling in the afterglow we’re both getting hungry, so I conjure up a quick meal. It’s getting late and she needs to return to her job. I walk her to the station to catch the 10pm train.

I don’t want her to go. Feeling this way about her tells me something; it spoke of her being who I want to be with. The way forward is now clear: I want The Saffa.

As I watch her train disappear into the darkness my post-coital negativity kicks in with the usual poignant questions. If she didn’t know about the existence of Busty Czech would any of this be happening? How different would her behaviour be? Am I seeing the real her? Is she using sex as a weapon to woo me?

For the first time since lunchtime I switch my phone on and I see that Busty Czech has called my four times and sent the following text message:

I’ve got something special planned for your birthday. 🙂 xx

Ah, yes, my birthday. It’s next Monday and I’ve agreed to see Busty Czech this Saturday before then, followed by meeting The Saffa on Sunday.

I just have to say goodbye to Busty Czech on Saturday. I have to break another heart.

How is this going to turn out? I’m dreading it.

ACDC- You shook me all night long

Trapped – Final part

“I want you to fuck me,” she says.

“Are you crazy?!” I blurt out.

“I like it dangerous,” she replies coolly.

I’ve always been in favour of naughty or exciting sex, anything that gets the heart-rate up and the juices flowing, but sex under these circumstances is simply outrageously dangerous. I make my misgivings known but The Saffa is adamant. We squabble as quietly as we can but then she starts tugging at my clothes, but I swat her away.

Undeterred she stands up and starts undressing. All I can do is watch as her knickers fall to the floor. Even in the dim light of the room I can see that hers is a body that I’d like to fuck. I wonder if she’s still turned on from her orgasm before the intruders arrived?

The Saffa drops to her knees before me, a pleading look in her eyes as she puts her hands on top of her bare thighs, an action that squeezes her lovely breasts together. Maintaining eye contact she opens her mouth. It’s a beguiling sight; what man can refuse?

I stand up, unzip my jeans, pull my cock out and drop it into her mouth. She starts sucking on it with an eagerness that impresses me. She just loves sucking my cock.

Shall I fuck her? It’s what she wants but this is crazy. What if the two women next door hear us through the paper-thin wall? What if one of them walks into this room? What if The Saffa starts making too much noise? Oh fuck, my cock is rock-hard now and my balls are aching.

Just then The Saffa stands up, climbs onto the bed and assumes doggy-style position. It’s only one of my favourite positions. She looks back at me, daring me to be a man and to fuck her.

I reposition myself and slide my cock as deep into her pussy as it can go. Her vaginal cavity isn’t as long as my cock and I must have touched her cervix. She lets off a muffled sound of discomfort, but I don’t care. This is what you want, so now you’re going to get it!

My hands slap onto her shoulders and my hips start to move how they were designed to. I speed up, hoping that The Saffa can keep it quiet as I fuck her. Mercifully she does and all that can be heard is the lapping sound of my thighs hitting her butt-cheeks.

I tilt my head to the better-lit side of her body and glimpse her breast flying freely about. I love this sight. I love watching a woman’s tits flopping about as I fuck her doggy-style. I especially love it when I have the woman on ‘The Hook’.

Hmm, what will she make of that? Will she make a noise that gets us into trouble? Or will she keep quiet and just take it? Why even do that? It’s ridiculously reckless. Fuckit, she said she likes it dangerous.

I collect her silky blonde hair into a bunch and with my right hand I grip it tight, pulling back slightly. She lets off a stifled “Umpf,” sound but stays in position. My other hand I bring up to my face and I suck on my thumb. I keep ramming my cock into her short, little pussy as I lower my hand and my thumb finds her butt-hole.

The Saffa doesn’t flinch or make a sound as I slide my thumb up her bum. Every woman I’ve done this to has liked it, even if beforehand they said that they don’t like anything anal-related. Once a woman is totally turned on, with all the nerve-endings on fire, then anything goes. I usually save it for towards the end of fucking them as it sends them over the edge and they cum soon afterwards.

And so it is with The Saffa. Less than a minute later I feel her body shiver and shake and then she lets off suppressed little squeals of delight. I think these last little sounds were too loud as almost instantly I hear voices on the other side of the door.

I freeze.

My cock is deep in her pussy, my thumb still in her arse, I’m still clutching her hair, but The Saffa hasn’t heard what I have and she starts panting.

“Mum, I think that it’s time to sort through the post,” I hear the unseen daughter say.

“Why now?” I hear an old woman ask.

The Saffa hears this too and holds her breath.

The women fiddle with opening envelopes; one of them is suspicious and she prolongs this exercise. Eventually they run out of excuse to listen for what they think they heard, well at least one of them.

Was my thighs slapping against The Saffa’s butt too loud? Or was it her strangled cries of pleasure? Either way it doesn’t matter. At least one of them is aware that something is going on and is now unlikely to want to leave.

Shit. I’m more trapped than ever now.

Mother and daughter return to the lounge and the sound on the television gets turned down low. I disconnect myself from The Saffa and we collapse next to each other on the bed.

“I think the daughter heard us,” I whisper.

“I think so too,” she replies.

“We’re going to have to wait for the daughter to leave,” I say as quietly as I can.

“Yes. Anyway, I need to recover from that orgasm. That was the best of my life,” she says softly.

It’s always nice to hear that I’ve pleased a woman to such an extent, but right now it isn’t the most important thought in my head.

The naked Saffa gets under the covers while I lie next to her, balancing myself on the edge of the small bed and still fully clothed. I lie listening to our neighbours who don’t speak much. When is that bloody woman going to leave? The Saffa falls asleep, but I’m still wired and wide awake. I don’t know how long I lay there like that before I also fell asleep.

Noise from the street below wakes me the next morning. It’s a sunny Monday and I can hear London’s rush-hour starting. Somehow I’m still balanced on the edge of the three-quarter-sized bed. I turn my stiff neck and see The Saffa’s beautiful blue eyes staring at me.

“Good morning handsome,” she says, smiling to the point of laughing at me.

I smile, realizing that this wasn’t all just a bad dream. Snoring from down the corridor tells me that we’re still not alone.

“I’ll go check what’s going on outside,” The Saffa says, getting up, tidying her hair and putting on a blue silk robe that matches her eyes.

A minute later she returns. Am I going to be set free?

“It looks like the daughter has left and someone else is snoring her head off,” she says.

“Great. I think I should go before overstaying my welcome,” I say.

“Not just yet, sunshine. You haven’t cum yet,” she says in a stern tone, like a school-teacher reprimandng a naughty boy.

“What?!” I exclaim in a hushed tone, still fearful of being heard.

“I’m not letting you out of here until I have your cum,” she says.

What…the…fuck? Is she serious? Hell, yes, she’s serious. What have I got to do to get home?! Wait, I’ve still got a raging morning glory so this could be quick. All I need is some inspiration.

“Where’s your favourite place to feel cum? It’s okay, you can tell me, I won’t be judgemental,” I say.

The Saffa thinks about it for a few seconds, I know the answer will be good so I wait and then she says, “I like having cum on my face, then on my back and then on my breasts.”

My cock hardens at the thought of squirting baby batter all over her pretty face. You just can’t predict a person’s sexual proclivities. I’m also learning that I can’t predict my own reaction to a woman’s needs and wants behind closed doors.

“Do you want to fuck me on the bed?” she asks.

“No, I want you to get on your knees, suck on my cock and then let me cum all over your face,” I answer, not knowing what kind of response to expect. Maybe she’ll let me go now?

Without a moment’s hesitation The Saffa sinks to her knees and with closed eyes takes my cock in her mouth and started her slow, sensual, cock-stiffening, rhythmic, wondrous swallowing, teasing and pleasing of the best part of me. She pulls the front of her robe open, exposing her breasts. Some of my cum is going to land on them.

It doesn’t take long for my cock to swell up totally in her mouth, ready to cum. It is the sudden swelling of my penis’ head that alerts her to my impending orgasm. She opens her eyes and looks up at me, all the while still diligently sucking on me, her fingertips delicately resting on my thighs as if she was getting ready to scratch me.

Just as I feel the cum rushing along my shaft I pull my cock out of her mouth, grip the hair at the back of her head and pull back, to which she lets out a little gasp of air and closes her eyes. She knows what is going to happen next and she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out.

I have to make a concerted effort to keep my eyes open to watch as the fresh sperm explodes out of the tip of my cock. I watch in curious fascination as the first big blob of sperm hits her squarely between the eyes. My stomach muscles tighten as smaller loads shoot out, landing on a cheek and then just above her open mouth on the other side. Even in the haze of the early morning light I can see pleasure spreading across her face just before she makes an approving “Umm” sound. She closes her mouth and smiles.

My cock is super-sensitive and pleasurable as I put the tip of it against the big blob of cum on her forehead and slowly push my cock down the side of her face, smearing cum into her skin as it goes. It must be an involuntary movement on her part, but when my shaft is near her mouth she opens her mouth, but still keeps her eyes closed. I ignore that and manoeuvre my cock back up to where it had come from and then slide it down the other side of her face. She exhales a heavy breath of air as I slide my bell-end under her chin, now having smeared my protein-rich load all over her pretty face…and doing so feels good, damn good.

I push my cock into her gaping mouth, which she eagerly receives and enthusiastically begins sucking on again, seemingly trying to get every last drop out of me. Her attentiveness is appreciated, but I am more taken with the sight before me.

Here is an attractive, pretty blonde with hair that feels like strands of gold to touch, on her knees before me, her large breasts dangling down with hard, suckable nipples pointing the way forward, sucking my cock in a deliberate attempt at pleasing me as my cum covers her face.

It is one of the best sights of my life and I shall treasure it. I wish I had a photo of it but my memory will have to suffice.

My cock becomes over-sensitive and I have to pull it out of her mouth. Who knows for how much longer she would have sucked on it? She leans back and lets her shoulders drop as she relaxes, but for her the moment isn’t over. Closing her cum-splattered eyes, she smiles again and seems to savour the sensation of my cum all over her face. Perhaps it is the intensity of what has just happened, I can’t really tell, but her smile tells me that all is well in her world.

How many other cocks have done this to her? Did she enjoy it each time? How did it make her feel, deep down, really feel? Did it make her feel like a dirty little slut that liked being used? Why do I think these negative thoughts after sex?

She stands up, opens her eyes, gives off a little laugh, smiles at me and steps forward to hug me. I feel some cum making itself comfortable on my chest, but I don’t care; this all feels strangely good to me.

“Come, let’s go have breakfast,” she says, getting up, pulling her robe back on and then turning to disappear through the doorway. I hear her cleaning herself in the bathroom.

Minutes later we’re walking through the streets of London, The Saffa is leading me to her favourite place for a fry-up breakfast. I’m aware that people we walk past are staring at us. Are we emitting a ‘just-shagged’ vibe? Is there some of my cum on her face?

We share a breakfast at an over-priced French cafe, laughing and joking about the previous twelve hours. She thinks it’s hysterical but I’m less amused.

Her careless, cavalier streak scares me silly because it points to trouble, lots of it. It explains some of the rash decisions that she has made in her life and it reminds me of my thrill-seeking Exgf. Could The Saffa be a drama-queen? If there isn’t some drama going on then she’ll create it? A big red flag has gone up. I’m doubting that she could be The One. Have I made the right choice or have I made a mistake?

As I thankfully sit on a train taking me home, the chilli plant present at my feet, my brain going faster than the train, a text message from The Saffa arrives on my phone.

It’s raining here now and my day was so much brighter with you in it. Thanks again for showing me the sights of London and treating me to breakfast this morning… Missing you a little bit lots already xx

A few minutes later a text message from Busty Czech arrives.

How are you. Did you have good time with your friend yesterday. Im back at work. Hopefully ill be ok.

Busty Czech now seems like such a safe choice while The Saffa seems like trouble.

I’m such a shit. I’m such a fool. I feel trapped again.

What should I do?

Bruce Springsteen – Trapped

Trapped – Part 2

The Saffa leads me to a swanky part of London, to an imperious building and into an old-fashioned apartment straight out of the 50s. This is where she looks after a little old lady, thus her place of employment and the closest thing to home that she has on this sceptred isle. It feels like I’m treading on forbidden ground; I don’t belong here. In The Saffa’s profession as a carer it isn’t permitted for the carer to have visitors as it poses a risk to the vulnerable elderly.

“Isn’t your employer going to be home soon?” I ask as I spot the sun heading for the horizon that is the tops of London’s historic buildings.

“Nah, she’ll be home much later. We have the place to ourselves. What I want to show you is in the kitchen,” she says, gesturing down the musty-smelling corridor.

Once in the kitchen, which is resplendent with utensils and equipment that is older than me, The Saffa points out a potted plant sitting in the centre of an old table.

“Ta-dah! It’s your birthday present,” she exclaims, flapping her arms and hands about like a brainless bimbo hostess on a lame gameshow pointing out an insulting prize to a speechless contestant.

“Oh,” is all I can say.

“It’s a chilli bush. I know your birthday is after next weekend but I wasn’t sure what was going to happen between us today but seeing as you’re in London you can take it home with you,” she says.

“Thank you,” I stammer.

“Yes, we both like our food on the spicy side so whenever you cook for me you can add a little chilli from here. It’s cute, hey?” she gushes, impressed by her own idea and effort while I’m just non-plussed.

“Listen doll, I’m a little tired from all our walking of today. Let’s go lie down for a bit,” she suggests.

Huh? No. I can guess what this will lead to.

“Thanks, but I’d rather go now. Your boss won’t be impressed if she comes home to find a strange man standing in her kitchen. I don’t want you getting into trouble,” I say, reaching for my present.

“Ag, no man, don’t worry about that. We’ve got lots of time. Besides, I just want to feel close to you,” she says with puppy-dog eyes.

How could I say no?

Her room is neat and tidy with an over-sized suitcase dominating the free space. It’s apparent that she lives out of this suitcase as I can see her clothes stuffed into it. Toiletries, hairbrushes and a hair-dryer – a woman’s essentials – litter the meagre other free space offered by this small room.

The Saffa lies down on the bed which is a three-quarter-sized one, great for a single person but inadequate for a couple. I take my shoes off and join her on the bed, putting an arm under her and holding her against me. It isn’t long before she falls asleep against me. I feel her nerve-endings twitching and sense her body going limp against mine. I think minutes later I must have fallen asleep too.

It’s the noise of London’s night-life ramping up, the sound of more cars and chattering pedestrians below a slightly open window that wakes me. It’s dark and I don’t know what the time is. I’ve got to get out of here; I don’t want her losing her job. If she did get fired and thus homeless, The Saffa would have nowhere to go and I’d feel obliged to take her in. Not the best start to a relationship.

My trying to look at my watch in the gloom wakes The Saffa. She blinks her eyes open and we smile at each other.

“Today has been great, but I think it best that I hit the road,” I say, pulling myself away from her.

“No man, it’s still early. Anyway, there’s something I want,” she says enigmatically.

“What?”

“You,” she replies with a naughty smile just before latching her lips onto my neck.

“No, no, no,” I say trying to resist, pulling my head away. “Let’s not get carried away now. What if you lose your job?” I try to reason.

“Agh, c’mon man, live a little,” she says, tugging at my belt and sliding a hand into my jocks. Her warm hand easily finds my erect penis which is still engorged from our snooze.

In the blink of an eye she’s got my cock in her mouth and she’s sucking away on it like a woman possessed. How in less than a minute can she go from being asleep to sucking the chrome off a tow-bar?

Fuck, that feels good. She gives the best blowjob I’ve ever experienced. I thought the Pretty Teacher was a good cock-sucker, but The Saffa is even better.

Okay, I’ll let her suck me off, but then I really have to high-tail it out of here before there’s unnecessary trouble. So I lie back and savour her oral skills. She must enjoy doing this because nobody can be an expert at something they detest.

Suddenly she stops and I raise my head to see what she’s doing, just in time to watch her quickly pull up her skirt then straddle me, drag her knickers to one side and slide her slippery, wet, warm vagina over and around my cock.

“Ugh,” she says in that satisfied tone that all women seem to make as they perch themselves on me. I like that sound.

She starts wriggling her hips and tilts her head back. Fuck, she feels good. Her pussy is smaller and tighter than I thought it would be, but she’ll loosen up as she gets more turned on.

Okay, I’ll let her ride me until she cums, then I really have to get the hell out of here. We’re playing with fire now. Her boss and who knows who else can walk through the front door at any second. I hope she’s a quick cummer.

No, not.

The Saffa rides me for what feels like an eternity. At least she’s not as vocal as Busty Czech, but nevertheless I’m not exactly enjoying this encounter because I’m so distracted. The sounds she’s making and the aggressiveness of her hip motions tell me that she’s revelling in this which, all things considered, is a good thing. I’ll just patiently lie here like a huge dildo.

Eventually she rides me until she cums…with the sweetest suppressed little squeal I’ve ever heard. As her body’s shudders decrease she lets off one little squeal after another in time to each tremor. A satisfied gasp followed by a deep breath in signals the end of her orgasm.

Well that was cute, but I really need to leave and soon.

The Saffa slumps down next to me and I give her a kiss on the forehead.

A set of keys starts to jingle at the front door, a lock is turned open and two women’s voices shock me to my core.

The Saffa looks at me with big eyes, then smiles before breaking out in a stifled laugh.

Shit! I’m trapped.

The people on the other side of the door can’t be allowed to see me! We’re three floors up so there’s no way I can jump out the window. I remember there being a balcony and there might be a dumpster down below it, but that’s too risky. I’m getting too old for this shit. Boldly stepping out of this bedroom will lead to The Saffa being fired which in turn will lead to her moving in with me. The only way out is through that front door, so timing my exit right is vital.

“I’ll go talk to them,” she whispers as she pushes herself up off the bed.

The Saffa corrects her clothing, quickly brushes her hair and steps out of the room into the passage on the other side of the tissue-thin door. I stand up as quietly as I can to put my slippery cock away and get my shoes back on. I need to be ready to get out of here quickly.

The old lady has returned with who I suspect is her daughter and they’ve taken up position in the lounge which is the room next door. I hear that the television has been turned on which tells me they’re going to be a while yet. The Saffa is making small-talk with them as if nothing is awry at all. She’s totally convincing. However, most importantly, there’s no sign that the daughter will be leaving or that the old lady will be going to bed any time soon either. I’m going to have to wait this out before I can sneak out the front door.

The Saffa returns to the bedroom and sits down next to me on the bed. She’s still smiling to herself; she thinks this is funny.

“Nah, they’re set to watch television for a few hours more,” she says.

“So what are we going to do?” I ask.

“I know…,” she says mysteriously.

“What?”

Has she conjured up an ingenious plan involving a distraction back in the kitchen? Is she going to somehow cause a raucous fuss in the lounge? I’ll let myself out the door if I time it right. Either might work…or not.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Trapped

Thoughts of The Saffa are on my mind as I listen to Busty Czech on the phone telling me how excited she is about our upcoming trip to the French Riviera. I feel torn between these two women and guilty as all hell. The former is aware of the other and trying to woo me, while the latter is blissfully ignorant.

It’s when Busty Czech starts telling me on Thursday night’s call about her guardian angels and how they look after her that I decide that she’s not The One. I don’t know if The Saffa is The One, but I know that Busty Czech isn’t. I know that I have to stop seeing her, but I also really want and need that expensive holiday that I’ve already paid in full for. I feel trapped between two sexy blondes and a beckoning blue sea.

I agonize all day Friday about what to do. Shall I dump Busty Czech tomorrow when I’m seeing her and thus walk away from the trip, kissing all that money goodbye? Will The Saffa be worth the sacrifice? Is Busty Czech better suited to me and I’m too blind to see it? I’m not a hundred percent sure about what to do.

Uncertainty in any situation does not sit well with me. I like to make a plan and then make it work. If I strip out the trip then it is obvious to me that The Saffa is the one I want to go forward with. I just have to take the monetary hit and hope for the best.

Busty Czech deserves to see me face to face as I let her down. I feel my doing this is person is the right thing to do. It’s what she deserves and will probably need. Then when I see The Saffa on Sunday I’ll feel free and a more normal unfolding of events between us can occur.

On Saturday morning I wake up to my phone showing me this text message from Busty Czech:

Yesterday I had another relapse at work. I had bad muscle weakness in my arms etc. Fighting the virus obviously does not help. Still not good this morning. I’m sorry, we can’t get together this weekend. I need to rest. I’ll make it up to you next weekend. Xx

At first I feel disappointed, but this is quickly followed by annoyed. Then the doubts set in. Maybe I’m being too hasty with Busty Czech? Perhaps this is Life testing me, toying with me? Am I being too hasty with The Saffa? Impatience has always been my biggest character flaw. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve been too impatient with some of the other women I’ve dated. What am I going to tell The Saffa tomorrow? I start to feel trapped again.

It’s a perfect Sunday morning as I stand outside Tower Hill Tube station waiting for The Saffa. I’m still not sure what I’m going to tell her. When she arrives, smiling at me, I struggle to kiss her hello with anything that resembles passion.

As usual she’s all chatty and positive which calms me down. I lead her to the O2 centre because she had mentioned in passing that she’s never been there. We catch the cablecar across the Thames and share a beer in the sunshine on barge that’s been converted into a floating pub. I let her do the talking and like a brow-beaten long-married husband I just make approving sounds at appropriate moments. I just hope that she doesn’t ask me about Busty Czech.

A chilly wind sweeps the Thames and we move onto the O2 centre itself where I take The Saffa to a South African steakhouse just like I have done with a few other dates. In our mutual youth this chain was a staple of our leisure-time as teenagers. She’s awed by the nostalgia brought on by the restaurant and she jabbers on about her memories. She’s a pleasure to be around; her energy is infectious.

Racks of juicy ribs are quickly devoured and favourite desserts are slowly shared. For the first time in several hours there’s a silence between us. A serious look spreads across The Saffa’s pretty face and her eyebrows start to duel.

“So what have you decided about me and your other chickie?”

Shit. I suppose her asking this was always going to happen.

“Well, things are more complicated,” I begin.

“How so?” she interjects, leaning slightly forward in her seat.

“On our second date I agreed to go away on holiday with her,” I continue.

“What?!” The Saffa exclaims.

“I know, I know. Stupid, huh?”

“When’s this happening?”

“In two week’s time,” I reply.

“Have you slept with her?” she asks.

“No, not yet,” I lie.

I lie through my teeth; it’s one of the worst lies I’ve ever told and I feel like shit for it. I’ve said enough already to scare her off. I don’t want to risk saying anything more that will cause me to lose her.

“No way! You’re going to sleep with her on the holiday, guaranteed!” she blurts out.

She’s right. If I do go on this trip then there is a very good chance that, given the environment, Busty Czech and I shall make the beast with two backs…with her screaming her head off. I can hear the screams now.

“Ag, man. This is no good for me,” she laments, fidgeting in her seat.

“Hold on a sec. You haven’t heard me out,” I reproach, raising a finger in the air.

The Saffa falls silent, her face still stern, her eyes darting about. It looks like she’s ready to run out of the restaurant. Whatever I say next has to be good or she’s off, never to be seen again.

“I’ve decided that you’re the one that I want. I was planning on breaking it off with her yesterday but she called in sick. I’ll say goodbye to her when I next see her,” I explain.

A look of relief then rays of pleasure transforms The Saffa’s face into a beaming smile. She lurches forward across the table, cups my face in both her hands and plants a big kiss on my lips. I smile.

I smile because it feels good to have made a decision that became clear to me as this date progressed. I smile from an overdue sense of relief. I don’t feel trapped any more.

The Saffa is almost skipping around as we tour the O2, looking at the variety of restaurants, tourist attractions, upcoming pop concerts and the scale of the structure itself.

“Hey, why don’t we go back to my place for dessert. The old dear that I’m looking after is at her daughter’s for the day and there’s something I want to show you,” she says excitedly, her eyes beaming a bright blue.

“Okay, let’s go back to your place,” I say, not sure what is coming my way now, but I suspect it’s going to be memorable.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Over my head

Yet again I find myself having to choose between two women. Busty Czech is sweet and harmless, but becoming hard work. The Saffa is feisty and fun, but I know that she has been badly hurt in the past and might not be capable of love. I’m struggling to choose, so I resolve to tell The Saffa about my situation when I see her today. It feels like the honourable thing to do. If she walks away then I won’t blame her, but if she chooses to hang around then I know that she’s serious about me.

I meet The Saffa at noon at my train station, she insists on kissing me full on the lips as we greet, which makes me feel uncomfortable. Can she sense something?

We walk to a nearby Italian restaurant to share lunch. The place is empty and we get a table upstairs with the whole floor to ourselves. Perfect for an intimate conversation.

The Saffa is talkative as usual and she’s positive. The latter point is becoming more important in my thoughts nowadays because I’m seeing that Busty Czech is somewhat negative. Our nightly conversations have cemented into a format that involves her first asking about my day then it quickly moves onto her bitching about her job then moaning about her mother’s latest mind games. Tedious; I’m starting to not want to have our evening chat.

The easy thing to do would be to ditch Busty Czech and take my chances with The Saffa. The problem is that I’ve shelled out a lot of money to go away on holiday in a few week’s time with Busty Czech and that money is non-refundable. I need a sunshine holiday and money is becoming tight for me, so I don’t know when I’ll next have a chance to have one. The timing of all this is terrible.

Can I string both of them along until after the holiday and make my decision then? I doubt it. Busty Czech is oblivious to my growing misgivings about her. The Saffa is keen and I won’t enjoy the trip with thoughts of The Saffa hanging over my head. It’s time to come clean. I take a deep breath.

“There’s something I have to be honest about with you. A couple of weeks ago I met someone that I’ve been on a couple of dates with. So far it’s been okay, but I’m still making up my mind about her.”

That’s all I’m going to tell her for now. She’s going to get emotional then angry; that’s what is likely to happen.

After a moment of thought she responds, but not with what I was expecting.

“Well, there’s something I need to tell you too. After we met in April I started seeing another guy. It lasted three months and I did sleep with him several times. I hadn’t had sex in two years until him. I got the impression that that he had someone else on the side, so I ended it in July.”

My mind sprints around as I do the maths. It’s now late August, so she’s probably not processed all the feelings about that scene. Can she be on the rebound? How strong were her feelings for him? Is it safe to have sex with her? Was it a lucky escape on Friday night that she started her period? I feel the need to know.

“Did you guys play safely?” I ask, trying to remember when last I went to that awful sexual health clinic.

“Yes, he used a condom every time,” she replies.

I appreciate her honesty, or what seems like that.

An electrified silence descends between us. We blink at each other, both uncertain about what to say next. Her words have little effect on me; I couldn’t care less if she had been seeing someone, but obviously she felt the need to tell me. I think we’re both now focussed on what happens next. It’s not often that I’m at a loss for words but I am right now. I know that I have to accept whatever comes my way from her.

After some thought she says, “So what are you going to do?”

“I really don’t know. What would you do?” I respond.

“I don’t know either,” she says with a puzzled look on her face.

“Until the way forward is clear for me, how about we just enjoy our lunch?” I suggest.

The Saffa smiles falsely as our food arrives. We eat with long teeth, but after a while she takes a deep breath of her own and becomes talkative again. Lunch ends and I have no plan, now expecting to walk her back to the station and perhaps never see her again.

“I don’t suppose we can watch some more Californication?” she asks.

So we end up back at my place indulging her latest addiction. After a couple of episodes I go into the kitchen to make us coffee and she follows me. I turn and meekly smile as she puts her arms around my neck and starts kissing me.

Her action takes me completely by surprise and I’m not sure it’s the effect of what she was watching or her feelings for me. I think I know where this might lead to.

“Are you still on your period?” I ask.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” she replies, uncoupling her arms, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bedroom.

The Saffa pushes me onto the bed and starts undressing me. I’m a little ill-at-ease because I’m not a fan of vaginal sex while a woman is on her period. Oral for me is a given, but what about her? Suddenly I wonder if she’s into anal.

She strips down to her panties and her perfume fills the room. This afternoon I can see more clearly and The Saffa is carrying a few more pounds than a typical woman, but I like that. I like the feeling of a woman who has something to hold onto. A mischievous smile is all I see as she covers my face with her perfect blonde hair before she slowly drags it down my face and across my chest, as if it was a silky feather.

Do you know the difference between kinky and perverted? Kinky is when you use a feather. Perverted is when you use the whole chicken. I wonder if she’s kinky or perverted? I intend to find out.

Her feather-like hair traces a path down my torso, along a leg and she stops at my feet. She slides off the edge of the bed and seats herself on the ground while holding onto my right foot as if it is holy icon. Soft, gentle, slow kisses follow the contours of my feet as her lips become instruments of pleasure.

No woman has kissed my feet before. How novel! It feels damn good too. Wait, an idea hits me. I must film this. My phone is quickly in my hand and I get the video camera function working in record time. The Saffa is unaware of my now filming her.

Expertly she takes her time to tease each of my toes with a slow kiss before sucking each one into her mouth, latching on briefly before releasing it and moving on to the next one. I’m watching and recording this, knowing what she is going to do and nevertheless each time, each toe, feels like a revelation. I’ve heard of ‘shrimping’ but it hasn’t really appealed to me and luckily no woman has asked me for it because I would have declined on hygiene grounds, but my preconceptions are wonderfully wrong.

The Saffa returns to my big toe, runs the tip of her tongue over and around it, teases it with with her bottom lip then swallows it. The warmth of her mouth sends electric pulses firing throughout my body and a little bit of jizz might have popped out of the tip of my growing penis.

My toe makes a popping sound as it leaves her mouth. Her lips start moving up the inside of my opposite leg and she raises herself with minimal effort off the ground and makes her body follow her mouth. Her kisses are measured, as if each one counts for something. The effect it has is that of making my skin a huge, sensitive sexual organ.

She certainly knows what she’s doing but a part of me is wondering about the bigger picture. Is she trying to seduce me into choosing her over Busty Czech? It must be what’s behind her actions. Women have for centuries used sex to get their man. As stategies go it’s not a bad one. It’s good one. A very pleasurable one. Fortunately for me I’m not so easily swayed or seduced any more. After all my dating and relationship experiences of the past two years I have now arrived at a point whereby I can separate my sexual, physical enjoyment of a woman from my feelings for her. Is this what happens if you’ve have too many sexual partners? Sex is now a hobby to me?

Now her tantalizing mouth has made it’s way up to my groin area. She gently licks then kisses my balls. Nothing in the world seems more important to her right now. Her hair is in the way of her face and the camera demands to see her blue eyes, so with my free hand I part her silky hair to one side, revealing her face. Her eyes are fixed on my erect cock as she runs her tongue up and down the length of it. As she reaches the tip she grips my shaft in one hand, lifts it towards her face and closes her eyes as she slowly swallows as much of it as she can.

With utmost dedication and expertise she unhurriedly moves her mouth backwards and forwards over my helmet and halfway down my shaft, repeatedly and deliberately. Time seems to stand still and the only sound to be heard is her saliva being spread over my penis.

“You’re a good cock-sucker,” I say for some silly reason.

The Saffa makes no sound and raises her gaze, her eyes connecting with mine momentarily before she notices the phone in my hand. A small furrow appears between her eyebrows but she says nothing, preferring instead to keep my cock in her mouth. Why do all women look so sexy with my cock in their mouth?

She looks down again and resumes doing what she has clearly mastered. It isn’t long before my balls tighten and I feel a stirring in my scrotum.

“Where do you want to feel my cum? In your pussy? In your mouth? Over your tits…or in your arse?” I ask.

I’ve learned that when you’re suggesting something to someone, the last of the options you present is the one most likely to be chosen. So I’m being naughty and am baiting her, more to check her reaction than anything else. I’m not seriously thinking we’ll end up doing anal.

“Hmm,” is her reply.

“You’d like to feel it in your arse, wouldn’t you?” I tease.

Silence.

Maybe she’s not into anal after all. I’ll tease some more.

“Imagine me fucking you doggy-style. Then imagine me putting my thumb up your arse as I fuck you doggy-style. You’re going to like that, aren’t you?”

I’ve also learned that when women are in a sexualized state, any suggestion directed at them assumes profound importance. They take it very seriously and are likely to do what is suggested because it is what their brain is focussed on. When the pussy juices are flowing and a cock is in their mouth a typical woman will agree to do just about anything. In this moment I’m planting the seed of what is likely to become an eventuality, the timing of which will take care of itself.

Silence as The Saffa hears my words and keeps rhythmically sucking away on my cock. Seconds later she stops abruptly, releases my penis from her mouth, looks up at me and speaks.

“Stop filming now,” she says.

“Suck it,” I retort.

She complies.

Half a minute later my cock starts pumping and squirting cum into her mouth. It doesn’t disturb her motion or rhythm at all. Somehow she swallows all my cum and keeps on going down on me until I can’t take the pleasure any more.

Once I’ve regained my composure, I reciprocate by sliding my hand into her knickers and playing with her clit until she cums. I leave sucking on her nipples until near the end because that is what sends most women over the edge. The oldest tricks are the best.

The rest of the sunny afternoon is spent lying in my bed, talking, laughing and getting to know each other better. It’s only when I see her off at the train station that the sense of guilt returns, gripping me like a warm vice, as I remember Busty Czech and our upcoming trip together.

The Saffa still doesn’t know about the trip; she’d freak out if she did. Busty Czech doesn’t know about The Saffa; she’d freak out if she did.

No matter how I look at it, somebody is going to get hurt.

It’s all my fault.

My life has generally felt like I’m constantly in shit, it’s just the depth that varies, but right now it feels like I’m in over my head.

The Fray – Over My Head(Cable Car)

Screamer – Final part

Maybe if we change position she’ll quieten down? I coax her to flip over into doggy-style position. She obediently complies like all women do. My cock slides easily into her pussy, I speed up and she starts screaming loudly again. Okay, a new position doesn’t work. Maybe if I get rougher she’ll shut up?

I gather her hair into a bunch and pull gently towards me, lifting her chin; she didn’t make a sound then. Ah, progress. I ram my cock as deep into her slippery pussy as it can go. I speed up again. A slow moan starts and gradually increases in crescendo. She is totally turned on, so it’s time to find out if she has experience of or even enjoys ‘The Hook’.

I suck on my thumb, place it squarely on her butt-hole and gently push into the soft fleshiness of her arse. Her body freezes as my thumb moves deeper into what is a very smooth and warm cavity. She seems okay with this, neither moving nor making another sound. A wonderful silence erupts. Tugging her hair back, I push my cock and thumb deeper into her holes and it feels good to me. Seeing her enormous tits flopping about as I fuck her makes my cock harden even more. I have her where I want her. This is as close to heaven as I’m ever likely to get.

Suddenly she rears up like a frightened stallion and lurches forward, violently pulling her hair free of my grasp, then burying her head in a pillow, moving her forehead from side to side in it. I battle to stay attached to her. Her hair has flown forward and is exposing that ever sensual nape of her neck.

She starts making that murderous screaming noise again, but I’m balls deep in her pussy and my thumb is buried in her arse. Neither are coming out no matter how much noise she makes.

I feel my balls tightening when she lets off the loudest stifled scream into the pillow that I have ever heard. Her body shudders and shakes and again I struggle to stay attached to her. That must be how she climaxes. Wow, that’s violent and loud.

Busty Czech relaxes her body and quietens down to a low moan that is in time to my thrusts. Now it’s my turn. Oh yes, must remember to not cum in her. I feel my moment of ultimate pleasure approaching fast.

“Where do you want my cum?” I ask.

“On my breasts,” she answers, mumbling into the pillow before starting to wriggle free from me.

Busty Czech flops over onto her back and pushes her tits together. Fuck, they are majestic. As I shimmy forward the sight of them sends me over the edge. With a few rapid tugs of my cock my baby-batter spurts out, some of it landing on her chin which causes her to close her eyes. Most of it lands perfectly in her cleavage.

My subsiding gasps makes her open her eyes and she looks between her breasts which she’s still cupping. She starts massaging her tits together, rubbing my semen into them. Looking up at me as she lets go her eyes are filled with satisfaction.

I’m surprised how much man-milk I have produced since this morning. As first times go this was pretty intense, but I know that she hasn’t had it in a while and the foreplay for her was prolonged. I know to say nothing in a moment like this and to simply wait for the woman to speak.

“Wow, that was good. I’ve never done anything like that before,” she says.

I’m inclined to believe her and I assume she’s referring to ‘The Hook’. I feel the need to check.

“What haven’t you done before?”

“I’ve never had anything in my bum before,” she answers.

We both just smile before she gets up and goes to the bathroom. When she returns we curl up, entwining our limbs and hearts, making sweet pillow-talk before falling asleep.

The next morning I’m awoken by the sensation of Busty Czech sucking on my morning glory. I could get used to having my days start like this. She notices my waking up.

“Come down towards the edge of the bed,” she says.

I do as she says, letting my legs dangle down over the end of the bed. I assume she just wants to suck on me. Instead Busty Czech sucks on two of her fingers and then puts them between her breasts to rub the moisture in. I know what she is about to do. She slips my cock between her beasts, cups the sides of her breasts and easily covers my cock with them. She starts moving her breasts up and down, my cock slithering around in her cleavage, which is a novel feeling. No women has done this on her own initiative before. She smiles at me.

“What cup size are you?” I ask.

“I’m an f-cup. 38F,” she says with one of her cute smiles, continuing the titty-fuck.

The saliva between her breasts dries up and she motions for me to go back high on the bed, which I’m happy to do. I like watching a woman enjoying herself, perhaps even living out a fantasy.

She climbs onto me and rides me cowgirl, all the while making unnervingly loud noises. It’s barely dawn, the neighbours must be able to hear her and this unsettles me.

My hands have always been able to grasp all of a woman’s breast in a hand, but not this woman. A wonderfully novel sensation, I assure you. How they feel is a different story too. They don’t have the denseness that other breasts have. Most breasts feel like a water-filled balloon, instead her’s feel fluffy and have a light feel about them, like a big bag of cotton-wool. She should be grateful otherwise back pain would be a constant companion for her.

Mercifully I feel her pussy clamp tight on my shaft, seconds later she comes with a violent shudder of her body and a painful stifled scream. I was fearing hearing her cum in full voice; the neighbours would have fallen out of their beds if she let rip. Thankfully she didn’t and I’m grateful for that. Being with a screamer was going to take far more getting used to than I ever imagined.

Busty Czech slides off me and resumes sucking my cock. Some women won’t suck a cock if it has just come out of their pussy, but she has no compunction in doing so. That’s a good thing; it’s quite erotic to see.

For a few moments I enjoy watching her fellate me; she is quite enthusiastic. Most women would have taken a breather after their orgasm just to relax for a moment, but not Busty Czech. When her sexual motor’s running it keeps on going. I like that. Hmm, I guess her health condition is all forgotten for the moment?

I wonder if she swallows? I hope she does. There are few things in life as disappointing as ‘suckus-interruptus‘, that moment when a man cums but the sucker stops sucking and reverts to a handy. Good suction until the penis becomes too sensitive is one of life’s pleasures for any man.

“I want you to suck me dry and swallow my cum,” I say, just like I had to the Saffa twenty four hours earlier.

“I’m not into that,” she says with a serious look in her eye. I know to never try to force her to. She gives excellent head, but is never going to swallow, no matter how much pineapple juice I drank in advance.

“Where do you want my cum?” I ask, suspecting I know the answer.

“I always like it on my boobs,” she says.

So what promised to be a good start to the day declined into a hand-shandy over her breasts. Now I know that almost all men would love to have what I have before me, but the sad reality is that after one night and two orgasms it’s clear to me that this is how it will always be. Boredom, routine and predictability has already set in and we haven’t even made it out of bed.

Not long after we sit cheerily eating breakfast and my mind starts to wander, as it is prone to doing.

Busty Czech is submissive in bed and eager to please me, which is wonderful. I sense that she is a totally unselfish lover, happy to receive whatever I choose to give to her. I want to give her as much pleasure as I can too, but she doesn’t know that yet. I’m not gong to tell her either, I’m just going to show her.

She has a sweetness, a naivety and a silliness that I find reassuring. She’s not clever enough to outsmart me, to deceive me, to betray me, thus I feel safe with her.

Breakfast ends and she says she needs to go home to do some things. She doesn’t offer to do any of the mountain of washing up, which disappoints me. Tech Titan, Krazy Girl and Busty Blonde were the only other women who did washing up for me when they came to stay, that was until the previous night when The South African did so, which gives a woman major points in my Book of Suitability.

The major negative that overshadows everything else is her screaming during sex. Good grief she is noisy. I have heard of a ‘screamer’ before, but I didn’t know that it could be this bad, that it would throw me off my stride so much. I hope that those hotel room walls in France are really thick or that we have no neighbours, otherwise this could get embarrassing.

As we chat aimlessly my mind latches onto the screaming issue. I don’t think that I could ever get used to her screaming during sex. It feels and sounds like I’m fucking a child’s squeaky toy. It’s so off-putting; it’s a problem.

So my train of thought steams around on a circular track until I walk Busty Czech to her car. We make predictable pleasant noises about our day together, we kiss goodbye as can be expected, perhaps her more passionately than me.

“I’ll see you next weekend,” she says with a customary sweet smile.

I smile in return and think to myself “Maybe” as she drives off. Then I remember that I’ve agreed and paid to go away on holiday with her. As I return to my home filled with the sweet smell of sex a text message arrives from The Saffa.

I’m free on Wednesday. Can I come visit?

This situation is spiralling out of control.

Eric Carmen – Make Me Lose Control