A woman flashed her underwear at ME!

I know I haven’t been around for a while, long story but not to worry.

Oh yes! A woman flashed her cotton panties at me today, so I’m wondering was lifting her dress accidental as I walked toward her, little more than her preoccupied wistful mind elsewhere, or lol was I the victim of a sexual assault? BECAUSE being serious for a second if I was to pull my trousers down in public, in full view of a pretty young woman walking toward me then I’d have some serious explaining to a Court Judge!

Nah of course not, pretty women can flash me their underwear to their young heart’s content.

Pleeeze God.

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‘The mysterious art of falling panties’, a series of paintings by Art Frahm (and note the dog’s eyes 😀 )

I had intended to write a Post featuring the work of 1950s artist ‘Art Frahm’, why an earth would he wish to paint young women in distress at the point of her panties having slipped down shapely legs? What’s more at the most inopportune moment and in full gaze of bemused ‘lucky’ guys, talk about women in distress! Without Googling the reasons why? (I never do) I’m lost for words apart from a woman’s letter posted to a magazine’s editor, apparently this scenario was prone to happen in 50’s America simply because knicker elastic wasn’t as strong as it should have been!

Hmm, I’m NOT convinced.

Where was I? Oh yes I’ll never forget today’s young lady DELIBERATELY showing me her panties, a photographic image now hardwired into my memory for as long as I live……… hence the reason I had to write a blog along with all my other sexy stories.

Cutting a short story even shorter (busy lives and all), today has been Britain’s hottest day this year, hence lunchtime break I just had to wander into Oxford City centre and women watch (judge me 😀 ) well I’d gotten but 50 metres from my workplace and what did I see on this gloriously humid sunny day? A young woman suddenly stopped 20 paces in front of me, there’s more! In one near choreographed movement, she lifted a hand toward her head removing a pair of spectacles, the finger’s of her other hand clasping the hem of a girly pastel dress, and wonderful for Andrew she lifted said dress in full view and proceeded to clean her obviously dirty glasses with the soft cotton fabric, and above her frigging WAIST I might add!

And yes TOTALLY unaware (?) this middle aged guy was but paces away gazing incredulously at her light blue pair of panties and long slender legs!

Life is a game of luck and chance and today was my lucky day.

I know I could hardly believe my eyes, still can’t, how I didn’t pass out there and then God only knows. Now with spectacle’s freshly cleaned, dress hem released and allowed to fall, the glasses were reposition affront a pretty face and she continued to wander past me as if the incident had never happened, there was no hint of a sweet smile, nope she didn’t even make eye contact, her unfazed expression betraying wistful thoughts and a mind elsewhere? 

I must admit I’m at a loss as to why any woman would lift her dress in public, reveal her underwear with mobile phones camera’s poised to send an image viral. Who knows why, perhaps there are people in this world who LUCKILY don’t care what other’s think? Anyways when I retold this tale back at work to basically anyone who’d listen, their mournful envious expressions betrayed the fact they’d missed a highlight of 2019. 

I’m joking!

Seriously though, days such as these are a sobering reminder, a reality check that at age 50 young women wandering past me in the street wearing buttock flashing hot-pants, micro skirts and tight fitting crop-tops revealing shapely wobbly boobage, ‘tees’ with plunging cleavage are ALL fabulous to behold, lovely and brilliant except young lady’s such as these will be thinking to themselves,

‘Sad old man looking at my tits, you’re (nearly) old enough to be my Grandfather Mr!’

Hmm a sobering thought indeed.

(Reading this post days later I’ll admit to over excited story telling, but in my defence I’d suggest voyeuristic moments such as these are an amusing big deal in any guy’s day and make for entertaining writing. Ok?)

A. Shepherdson 2019

 

 

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‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ (kindle book review)

 

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(Independent eBook review, in fact the authoress isn’t aware I’ve written this 😀 )

Attempting to write my very first kindle book review after having been absent from writing on WordPress since early June, is more than a little daunting.

Novelette synopsis (age18),

‘Ebby Scott has supressed her adventurous side far too long. An almost-thirty year old almost-virgin, she is given the chance to live out a life that has hitherto existed in her vivid fantasies and in the books she keenly devours. And Ebby has stumbled across the perfect place to help her unleash her erotic appetites.

Across each of three nights, Ebby faces her past decisions, her present choices, and gains a glimpse of her possible future as her sexual adventures become ever more steamy, satisfying, and liberating.

Meanwhile, her hopeful and adoring suitor Nick waits for her back at home. By the end of her three-night escapade, will Ebby return to Nick’s loving arms, or will she be unwilling to give up her new-found freedom just yet?’

I should begin by saying I’ve followed Ms. Libre Pavey’s blog for many months now, a gentle and eloquent writer she herself describes ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ steamy romantic fiction, all I can add is she’s not wrong! I’ll go further and admit to ‘hardening’ (come on work it out!) whilst reading in my garden, several arousals if truth be told my imagination drawn into Ebby Scott’s ghostly romantic encounters. Btw I’m reliably informed the difference between erotica and steamy romance, is the latter must have a story and this novelette is most certainly steamy romance with plenty of descriptive scene setting to hold my attention. Thoughtfully constructed around an original cute idea, enough atmosphere to engage my imagination with memorable lines such as:

‘………geometric squares of leggy jasmine and delicate wands of Japanese quince creating stark silhouettes.’ 

And plenty of beautiful naked breasts (for as you know I am a lover of ladies squidgy pink fun bundles, a breast man through and through), with pulse quickening lines such as:

‘….…..breasts tipped with jaunty cinnamon nipples, skin turned warm caramel in the low-lit glow.’

I should say at this point, Charles Dickens ‘A Christmas Carol’ is my very favourite work of fiction, in fact without fail I revisit this ghostly little tale every Christmas Eve for the past twenty-five years, and I did enjoy spotting the author’s clever parallels. Similarly written in descriptive staves with ghosts of past and present visiting Ebby’s bedroom, parallels not dissimilar to Dickens tale absent the steamy romantic sex goes without saying! As the authoress reminds us loosely based on ‘A Christmas Carol’ with even a little ‘Cinderella dancing at the ball’ thrown in, and here’s a thing being my first review I’m very conscious of not wishing to give tooo much away!

I haven’t.

As an aside, Libre paley intrigues me because she’s one of the few ladies to dare comment my err sexually explicit posts, not only a beautifully skilled writer but I’d guess possessing a ‘naughty’ confidence, I guess I’ll never know! Hmm? Was my excited anticipation and eagerness to read because I avidly follow blogger Libre Paley, the lady being one of my favourite writers on WordPress probably heightened my reading enjoyment.

Thoughts aside, our heroine Ebby (the authoress) narrates the tale.

And finally!

Ringing in my ears has been a little voice whispering “write a review but jeeze don’t give away the plot period”, and now I’m feeling perhaps I’ve sold you a little short? Not to worry, well paced sexually explicit and highly readable ‘Laying the Ghosts of Christmas’ was a most enjoyable read and £0.99 Amazon Kindle purchase well spent. 🙂

A. Shepherdson 2019 (My musings are a little ‘writing rusty’ tonight.)

On the 87th day God created cleavage

I must admit I’ve been in two minds whether to publish yet another boob tale (said that before!) Blogger Lesley kluchin won’t be impressed and I don’t blame her, of all the lovely readers to reply Lesley isn’t adverse to giving Andrew’s virtual ass a written spanking, several occasions tooo, I love them!! I fear my sexist tales understandably challenge the lady’s mommy sensibilities also school teaching values and quite right tooo……… Still, Lesley’s a good looking woman for her age, just shows a woman can still be sexually appealing at age70😘 . (Btw she wasn’t offended when I wrote that because I’m a nice guy.)

Ok I’ve a breast obsession! I adore sucking caressing licking and gazing in wonderment, what more can I say? 😀

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Ladies be watchful of peering eyes looking down from on high

Seems an age since I’ve affectionately ‘objectified’ a woman’s body on this WordPress.

Omg summer’s finally arrived with a vengeance and Oxford city is crowded with (age appropriate) young ladies wearing fewer than usual, there’ll be micro cotton dresses revealing milk white thighs, hem lines sooo short that on a guy’s lucky day he’ll glimpse ‘cushions’ of knicker gusset captured in the breeze, and just imagine but for this soft delicate fabric I might see kitty lips moistened and glistening against the sunlight! The problem is I have to keep in mind I’m old enough to be their father if not older!!

Btw this has happened, I’m not complaining ladies but watch the skirt length for heavens sake my heart isn’t as young as it used to be! Or with the advent of #METOO am I deemed sexist for looking and enjoying?

Do you wish to know why I enjoy riding double decker commuter buses in sunny weather? (You know you want to 😀 ) I’ll sit beside a top deck window waiting for my evening’s ride to pull away from the pavement, with a forearm propped upon a window-sill I’ll gaze down at delectable University students (age18) and pretty female shoppers walking past, their animated laughter and chatter a joy to behold, better still and you just know what I’m going to share with you next, more often than not when hot summer days arrive, so do tight fitting tee shirts with plunging necklines and ample boobage jiggling their own merry dance.

And because I’m seated peering down from up on high I’ll watch out for the colour of their bras as they walk on by, and if fortunate I’ll see pastel blouses with their collars open and top buttons undone, omg it’s fabulous to be alive when gazing at milk white boobs nestling comfortably within cups of various sizes, and working down the alphabet from an A cup to a DD, on a REALLY lucky day and this only happens once in a while mind, when the angle of eyeline is correctly aligned and her cups are larger in size, then I have been known to coup d’œil a small brown nipple or two.

Now that we’re on the subject of ladies’ nipples and keeping in mind their SOLE function in life is so that a baby can latch on and drink mums’ creamy goodness so they’ll grow up healthy a strong, yum yum big deal………………..

(Ahh I’ve just had an idea! I’ve some ‘breastfeeding in public’ opinions that I’ll leave for another day 🙂 )

ERR where was I? Oh yes tales of peering down ladies’ blouses! Yikes could I get into trouble doing this?

However this sexy street theatre doesn’t last forever as our gruff diesel engine rumbles into life, alas my down blouse performance is over for another day 😦 that’s until I descend the upper deck stairs and I share this thought with you quite truthfully, again when luck is on my side (lotta luck required in my life, keep up!) A BIG breasted young lady has been seen standing waiting ready to get off, I’m hovering above looking directly down, and no word of a lie, a balconette bra separating two perfectly shaped breasts with her belly button clearly in view. 

🙂 Btw she appeared like a vision one hot summer’s day last year, 😀 so ladies be aware!

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I’m curious, does a woman’s sixth sense tell her when a guy or girl is taking a little more interest than perhaps they should be?

Incidentally this saucy nonsense flows easily when I’m sexually aroused, why not try it yourselves dear readers? I should add the knicker gusset aided by the lifting skirt breeze scenario happened last August! Happy days 🙂 .

(Two ‘borrowed’ stock images which are NOT my own!)

A. Shepherdson 2019

“Diana you say the sweetest things”

Let me apologise for the picture quality, I’ve never published a selfie with my brand new Smart phone before…………… well that’s until today!! 😀

All is happy in Andrew’s little world, joyously happy if truth be told,

“Why so Andrew?” I don’t hear you say.

Now without being tooo indiscreet (that’s rich coming from me) Diana a Polish friend and myself booked into a cheap Oxford Hotel this afternoon, well there I was laying face down on the bed, Diana sat alongside me gently smoothing her hands across my skin and I do so love a relaxing massage, when all of a sudden, spoken through her Polish accent she said:

“You do have a lovely ass Andrew”😍

And even though I say it myself she’s kinda got a point bearing in mind I’m slightly over fifty, yep my ass is a (the only) physical attribute I’m rather proud of, so grinning to myself, showing my appreciation I replied, 

“Now can I lick your kitty please?”🙄

(Blogging Thoughts Photos and Life, 🤗just sayin!)

A. Shepherdson 2019  

Can I sit on your face Andrew? (NSFW)

Now I’d guess above is possibly the most unusual blog Title you’ve come across today, but here’s a thing I’ve got an interesting anecdote for you, remember Gemma with the wet kitty? Well this tale features Chantelle another adorable sexy lady I’ve bumped into on my journey through life 😉 .

Jeeze a producer could take these two stories, weave into a narrative joining the sexy scenes together, choose from two age40+ actresses to play the female roles cause they’re always moaning about the lack of work for older women, then make a film about a guy’s oral bedroom escapades!…………….. ok perhaps not 😀 .

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😮 I’m not joking when I say I could hardly breath!

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Missionary (& NSFW)

I guess the truly intriguing side to WordPress is musing ‘I wonder who reads my blog?’ Hmm interesting, so previously in a blog post I’ve told you the length of an average erect penis, you may be aware Karina is a lady I meet inside Motels, and btw not even I know what the following post will be about?

(A Charles Dickens themed London trip follows sooon!)

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I was reminiscing the other day, recalling happy memories, enjoying thinking about the women I’ve slept with throughout my adult life, now without breaking confidences my Virginity was taken many years ago by a lovely lady named err let’s call her Jemma, yes not her name but Jemma suits her. Now I’ll refrain from letting you in on that wonderful afternoon because I’ve already written a post sharing that fabulous experience, very emotional and possibly the best afternoon of my life…………. btw this tale will appear on a blog near you sooon! 

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WOW you’ve a cute Ass! (NSFW)

Erotic flash fiction (original & by meee!)  

Never assume that guy standing behind you in ‘The Deli’ queue is deciding which soft cheeses to buy!

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Standing behind you in our shared bus queue, so close I could reach out my arms encircle your waist and draw you close into me, that hard bump below, my aroused groin pressing deep against your shapely pert bottom nestling between two barely visible peach shaped ass cheeks…………… but alas I can’t, I shan’t, I won’t nor ever would………. I value my reputation, cherish my liberty tooo dearly to put my fingers inside a sugary delicious sweetie jar. 

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Dana the Romanian masseuse (NSFW)

I didn’t finish my intended Friday’s post, so instead I’m going to reblog a (favourite) tale I first published September 2018…………. however before I begin you’ll need to be reminded what a Happy Ending is, it helps my narrative (also brings to a close my Topic for the week, some may say “thank goodness”).

Urban Dictionary defines ‘Happy Ending’ thus: ‘When a masseuse feels inclined to finish your session with oral sex or manual release’…………… and forget the word inclined that’s what I paid her to do! 

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Fictional or non fictional this is a favourite story.

One blustery autumn afternoon in late September, a few months ago now! You’d have found me laying naked on my back, not a stitch of clothing on my body, my legs wide apart and a Romanian lady by the name of ‘Dana’ kneeling before me, a truly beautiful gorgeous lady gazing down upon me, a delicious wicked smile across her face oh and the reddest glossiest lipstick you ever did see.

“Do you enjoy giving gentleman hand relief?” I enquired,

And when you ‘come’ to think of it massaging a male client’s back muscles with dextrous skilful fingertips, finishing the massage with one hand gently curled around his erection and gently rolling his testicles between thumb and finger with the other, has to be one of the strangest occupations ever!

“Yes I do honey”,

Dana answered with a wicked grin, her lubricated right hand rhythmically stroking my love length and circling my purple helmet with warming palms, the joyous tingles and pleasurable sensations coursing from the tip of my penis down to my groin are near indescribable………… only men understand how gorgeous and beautiful those stimulated nerve endings alter his mind, his breath quickens, his hardness bucks and pulses as he draws ever closer to climax.

I once gleaned from secretive Dana where she’d learnt her gift for massage with an erotic twist from? She said after arriving in Britain as an economic migrant, earning money to pay for a deposit on land back in her native Romanian village, she first stayed with a friend in Birmingham but had no job, no income! Then one day her flatmate suggest they both rent a bedroom, advertise ‘certain services’ on an adult website, both working giving intimate Swedish massages…………. massage ‘services’ you’ll not find on your average Town’s High Street.

Well fast forward her tale several years and Dana rented a bottom floor box bedroom within a back street terraced house in a part of Oxford, a place where you’ll not leave your car unattended………….. put it this way if you did, your car wouldn’t be there when you returned!!!

I’d better shorten my winding complicated tale because you all lead busy lives, just understand whilst surfing the net one evening I happened across this LEGAL adult website giving intimate massages, phoned the mobile number hoping I was speaking to the lady in the photographs and well I became her 4 o’clock afternoon appointment that same day.

You’ll all know by now I’m an honest guy, well the website is legal, the ladies are over age 18 and working independently of their own accord and incidentally Dana stresses she gives no sexual services………… which means neither penetration or felatio……… shame really because as I gazed into her eyes I didn’t half fancy a blowjob!

Well I travelled by bus to Oxford, found my way to the given name of the street, texted her for the house number at 3.55pm, then upon reaching the address told her my name through the intercom beside the front door. A buzzing sound came from said door lock and there standing in the hallway was one of the most beautiful young ladies I have ever seen in my life, slim gorgeous with a beautiful smile and warm becoming blue eyes.

I introduced myself and yes she was even more beautiful than her photos suggested, then followed her through one of the many doors into a dimly lit warm and cosy bedroom………..virtually absent of furniture other than a single bed with duvet, centrally heated, carpeted, very clean and extremely tasteful.

I handed Dana the advertised price and then stood there near speechless looking like a complete and utter lemon wondering what to do next? Until she said,

“Well take your clothes off!”

“All of them?” I rather lamely answered she must have though ‘Jesus I’ve a right one here!’

“Yes all of them honey” she said laughing now, “then take a shower” glancing past me toward an even SMALLER side room (wardrobe) no bigger than a shower cubicle………… err that’s what the cupboard was!

So, and writing here and now this anecdote still makes me laugh, Dana stood there in her fishnet stockings, latex high waisted tight fitting hot pants (no knickers hold that thought!) also a black bralette revealing two of the most exquisitely shaped high round breasts you ever did see, I’m still smiling because this lady I’d known for sixty seconds stood but a metre close to me inside this tiny bedroom, and I near felt her burning gaze as I slipped down my boxer shorts, I glanced up and yes she was appraising my ‘bits and pieces’ ………… now just be aware I’m a clean bunny who was freshly showered wearing clean underwear, but as instructed I took a shower after being handed a fluffy soft towel.

(Why are Hotel towels always white?)

I ought to admit at this point I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Dana one time several years ago, she gave me a finger in the ass prostate tickle but as the days past afterward, I decided the service wasn’t for me…………… yes one for the bucket list but I didn’t enjoy it!

Well now I’m laying naked on her bed face down, a clean towel spread lengthways along the spongy quilt, arms down by my side then Dana places herself sitting on the tops of my legs, her two thighs either side my own and truth be told in a VERY firm vice like grip. Both Dana and I now comfortable I hear her squirt massaging oils into one hand from a bottle, then she began to push her hands deep into the small of my back, gliding them along my spine around my shoulders and all I can say is if you’ve never experienced warm skilful fingers work their magic on tired tight muscles, especially around the shoulders, if you haven’t then omg you haven’t lived! I will add Dana finger’s kneaded pushed and pulled tense muscles but not to worry she brought a true tingling warmth into my skin…………. btw I felt fabulous afterward!

And all the while we chatted about BREXIT, yes you did read right, she’s a working migrant from Romania! I talked about my family, we discussed Oxford architecture and I soon discovered Dana was witty personable friendly qualities you ascertain within minutes of meeting someone new, Dana is an intelligent young lady, then after 15 glorious minutes had passed rather abruptly she said,

“Now turn over!” Having first moved to one side, followed by a firmly spoken, “spread your legs wide!”

“Wider!!”

Dutifully I ‘widened’ presenting my bits and pieces in what was a rather precarious position, with Dana finally sitting her bum on her thighs kneeling close between them, and omg you just have to know this goddess of a lady was so beautiful with the prettiest sweetest smile you ever did see……………. and a wicked gleam in her eyes! Like I said she enjoyed jerking men off, maybe the thrill for her was being in control and dominating a man, or perhaps giving hand relief is just a fun way to pay the gas bill? Either way it’s times like these that I’ve never felt more alive.

Dana now wearing a pair of delicate latex gloves from a box, slips them on, cups my testicle sack with the palm of her left hand and curls lubricated fingers around the shaft of my penis with the other, oh and I forgot to add I’ve rarely been so hard erect and engorged before. I’d guess staring at her gorgeous boobs and plunging cleavage was the reason for that…….. oh as for knowing she wore no knickers! Well put it this way slightly parted thighs and tightly fitting hotpants revealed all!!

I should say at this point do I really need to graphically explain the process of hand relief? Men of course understand the ‘process’ and I’d guess all women have serviced a partner, anyways all I will add is Dana possessed a skilful technique she described as luxurious (it was!) Well she worked her dextrous magic, my penis bucking as I’m brought to climax then bingo she directs a stream of warm semen across my stomach……………. any men reading appreciate the joyous heavenly pleasure.

(And with boobs as exquisite as those two you’ll appreciate I even impressed myself!)

So there you are the Swedish massage with intimate ‘happy ending’, and for any ladies reading all I can say is if you’re in search of a well paid fun occupation, you could do worse than train as a masseuse…………….. oh and I forgot to say Dana’s Birmingham flatmate gave her the confidence and now she gives ‘happy endings’ for a living!!!

©A. Shepherdson 2018

‘That sacred spot of blissful heaven’ (Erotic Monday)

If you’ve happened to read yesterday’s post, you’ll know all the five days this week I am writing a tale flash fiction or whatever on the theme of women’s lingerie, don’t ask why perhaps I’m just odd that way……………….. incidentally the ‘publishing’ sequence has changed, or in other words that’s the story of my WordPress. 

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Laying beside Karolina two Saturdays ago I don’t think I’ve felt happier in a long while, my lady’s aged 50 and extremely passionate, an amusing conversationalist if a little hard to follow as she’s from Poland, but not to worry she’s an extremely sexy lady, in fact my idea of a dream woman, and I know having a lady stick her tongue deep inside your mouth while kissing sounds a little ahem icky! But it really is sensuous and divine.

So where are we two aged lovers to be found? Me a fifty something who wears glasses when having sex, also Karolina with her dodgy knee that locks up meaning she has to clamber off the bed to give creaking joints a stretch! No arthritis just ‘ole mother time’ creeping up and don’t you find older women are more grateful of a guys romantic advances, not desperate for attention, no just content to be loved for who they are, no spring chicken and all, oh and fucked hard by a guy who prefers his sexual animal to be a woman of more mature years.

Where are we? Inside a Travelodge Inn alongside a busy A34 dual carriageway, a bedroom to be more exact, I’d guess American’s would call this establishment a Motel for lonely individuals driving monotonous ashen gray motorways in need of a cheap place to sleep of a night.

Our room is in pitch darkness apart from a shaft of bright light shining from the wardrobe bathroom, the temperature’s boiling as Motels often are and Karolina’s laying on our bed gazing at the ceiling with me close by her side, so close I’m all but cuddling with my body touching hers from my chest to my toes, snuggled in tightly, my six inch hardened dick resting atop her thigh and bucking bouncing off her skin to the beat of a drum, physiologically connected to the blood pumping through my heart.

Yes I do love her, my arm resting on her tummy a hand slipped inside her burgundy panties, the same exact colour as a good claret of wine. I’m not looking at her lingerie briefs though with two digit fingers gently sliding back and forth through the parted lips of her wet kitty, sweeter than wine and bare of all pubic hair but for a small stubbly patch on her mons pubis, lol there’s a medical term you don’t hear often! 

So do I miss that teenage pubic bush weeded out over the ravages of time? They’re kinda fun to run finger’s through or admire in the shower, a mop of brunette coloured hair dripping and wet.

With my fingertips doing all the talking below, my gaze is drawn to Karolina’s chest raising with every breath sipped in, two high round breasts nestling beneath her claret shaded bra cups, with its swirling patterns of lace matching the panties and my busy fingers inside, but hold on subconsciously my sexually aroused mind has control of my fingers without me knowing, playing a fiddle all by their own now pressed against her clit and dragging her intimate skin in small circles, the curtains of her labia lips now drawn tightly closed.

Then faintly audible to my ear, hardly noticeable within our church hushed boudoir, I heard the quietist whisper you ever did hear, Karolina with her eyes tightly closed, purred a softly spoken,

“Oh My God!”

Do you know if I’d cleared my throat or been distracted by noise outside I would have missed it!

She quiet startled me actually though not a muscle in my body responded to Karolina’s almost joyous incredulity, with my imagination pricked alive I suddenly realised my circling fingertips had touched a spot so sacred, nerve endings so excited by pleasure giving chemicals flooding her brain, a cocktail altering her mind, that for those few two seconds in time Karolina had been whisked to a blissful heaven itself.

(……………. and tomorrow, “Holy crap I’m on the bra and knickers Floor!”)

©A. Shepherdson 2019

 

‘Gemma’s wet kitty’ (NSFW)

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Mild adult themes with the absence of imagery or bad language, perhaps a tale more humorous than err sexy erotica? Oh and I’ll leave you to decide if Gemma is a real living woman or perhaps a lady conjured from my risqué imagination…….. and AS always 100% my own tale!

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Fellatio! As you are perhaps aware if you follow my rather eclectically themed blog I’m a lover of savouring delicious words, during my tedious no tortuously boring commute to work I idly gaze out of my usual window seat, looking at the exact same scenery pass by tooo slow to be a blur too fast to appreciate and enjoy, a moving landscape to nudge me into a daydream about sex so I’ll look around the familiar faces, some listening to music on their mp3’s other’s reading and me idly wondering if the blonde lady with a fringe that nearly covers her eyes, is good at oral? ‘Wow that hairstyle suits her, she can hardly see but it’s so ’60’s’ and looks so sexy on a lady……… not forgetting a summer cleavage that near takes my breath-away!’

Gorgeous fellatio for some reason has been on my mind lately hmm perhaps because I haven’t had my dick sucked in a while and I’m feeling rather horny, I miss the various women I’ve been to bed with also their personalised techniques, and yes ladies lick and suck differently, of course they do! With one hand they curl their fingers around my floppy arousal so as to take a tight grip, give it a couple of up and down movements to harden 😉 , lower their open mouth over the purple bell and suck like a lollipop but here’s a thing women ALWAYS close their eyes?

I asked a lady called Gemma (not her name) why she always did this, close her eyes? She paused, thought for a second and with the hint of a giggle (because sex for some reason is so darn hilarious to adults) she said,

“Because I’m concentrating”, another pause “and I know you’ll ####ing come at some point!”

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And yes reminiscing for a second I can imagine tongue gymnastics may test a lady’s powers of concentration, but if we’re talking me giving cunnilingus then I couldn’t be happier feasting between a lady’s parted thighs, kneeling at the end of the bed, her body pulled in close to me, my hands caressing stroking the outside of her thighs and gently gripping her hips then waist. If the room is dark with only her bedside table lamp throwing a golden sheen across her naked body, the eroticism for me is heightened as I kiss her intimacy, the tip of my wet tongue dancing between the folds of her rosy ripened labia, all the while my eyeline is drawn the whole length of her body, past the mounds of her fulsome breasts now slightly overhanging and resting to the sides of her chest. The ambience making the areola appear puffy against her golden suntanned like skin, nipples rock hard and pointy.

So do we wish need to read and learn my honest opinions as to the scent of a ladies kitty? Now you readers may be angry annoyed at what this writer’s about to say? Not to worry, I dislike the smells of shop perfumes they’re tooo sweet for my noses delicate nerve endings, no I’ll take the natural animal scent of a lady’s freshly bathed skin every time……… absent of perfumed soap of course!!! 

But my wonderment doesn’t end there, oh no as I lick and suck, my mind concentrated on trying to locate where I assume that mythical ‘g’ spot is? 😀 The horn of her clitoris, still to this day at the age of fifty I have no real idea if I’ve TRUELY touched her ‘g’ spot? Yes I’ll stop and stare for a second at a lady’s vulva in wonderment, darting eyes searching for this magical clit that’s supposed to engorge purple with blood, but I cannot medically inspect for tooo long because she gets annoyed and fidgety until the time I plucked up the courage to ask,

“Gemma tell me honestly do you enjoy your kitty being licked?”  

“Honey if I’m not enjoying myself I’d ####ing tell you!” Came her reply.

And yes she swears like a sailor, that taboo words are spoken from such a pretty mouth I find both shocking and hilarious possibly because her diction is crystal clear, as posh as the Duchess of Cambridge she is!

‘Thank you’ smiling and thinking to myself, ‘She’s contented and happy so who can ask for more?’

However unlike Gemma I am never ever bored giving a lady oral sex, I’m enjoying myself too much for that and I can feel my unrestrained hardness bucking as it gets evermore excited, beads of crystal clear precum dripping onto the carpet, a healthy function of the reproductive equipment so we are now told, doctors say flushing the prostate gland of precum may help a prostate’s health, even propensity to prostate cancer as the internet says, so it’s either true, wishful thinking or fake news…………. the story of modern day internet addicted society.

Where was I? Oh yes kneeling before a beautiful naked Gemma laying on her back stretched out before me, thighs wide apart her kitty hoping receptive and ready, a vision of sexual loveliness glistening beneath orange lamp-light. And yes her round mounds of breasts are gorgeous and a feast for my eyes, they’re even close enough to reach up and squeeze if I stretch, but doing that’s not so good on the old back these days so I’m resigned and content enough to watch her chest rise and fall as sexual excitement envelopes her body.

I’ve never experienced a woman writhing and screaming in exquisite passion filled pleasure, so am I doing something wrong I ponder? Perhaps I’m not licking fast enough, perhaps the sucking is why my tongue goes numb, no my cunnilingus technique is more sedate and gentle but her body does respond to my touch, each time my tongue slides dances over that erotic spot of hers, blessed with thousands of nerve endings making her pelvis twitch.

And time to time if she’s breathing deeply, if the touch of my wet tongue glides over her sacred organ, she’ll catch her breath and I know I’ve hit something? But there’s a distinct absence of moaning and definitely zero screaming for heaven’s sake, the golden skin of her body shimmering with moisture drawn to the surface, her chest rising and falling, locks of long blonde hair (err bottled blonde) haven fallen to the pillow, her forearm drawn across her face shielding her eyes, then all of a sudden Gemma can be heard in soft shallow quiet tones repeating over and over again,

“Oh yes……(insert 3 seconds)……. oh yes…………….. oh yes……….….. oh yes………….”

Pausing as a pink wet tongue appears through parted lips, only to be circled and licked back into her mouth before she returns to her metronomic soft encouragement,

“…..oh yes……..…….. oh yes……..….. oh yes…………….. don’t stop………….. oh yes……..…”

And so this highly unusual conversation continues for ten minutes, Andrew nuzzled between her thighs lapping at a stream of salty nectar, Gemma quite contented if less than orgasmic, so a question for all you experts reading, why does the surface of my tongue go numb?

Ok lol she doesn’t appear wildly excited but she’s an enthralling visual sexy performance all the same, she tells me she can be bored with her mouth full whereas I’ve never felt so alive excited, and yes riveted to her every word breath and move as I taste and lick……………… ‘hmm’ I muse, ‘who is enjoying this cunnilingus more?’ 

©A. Shepherdson 2019 

Body image, Boob chat and Breast lumps

My earlier post Racist Britain rather depressed me, so I thought why not cheer myself up and write about women’s boobs, and as you know I love women’s boobs!

Oh dearie me how an earth am I going to try and explain this one away (however before reading remember I both respect women and adore their boobs) well all I can say is you will have your own opinions by the end! 🙂

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Did you know there’s a website teaching artists how to draw breasts? I know you didn’t but just goes to show you’ll discover anything on the internet if you lol look hard enough!

I could dedicate a whole blog to the human female breast, no I’m not joking I could honestly! But I would NEVER post photographs on the internet neither would I ever make fun of a woman for a reader’s amusement, most definitely not, I would be positive and respectful because I am a decent well mannered guy who adores women, in fact I’m in awe of these delicious delectable gorgeous creatures I don’t understand them mind you and there lies my insecurities. 

Btw just so as you know I am a feminist.

My breast blog (hypothetical) would be informative positive, neither salacious or kinky but yes I could be guilty of sexualising breasts however anything I’d write would be body image positive and written all because I’m obsessed fascinated by a lady’s breasts, :/ hmm perhaps a little tooo much? 

(Everyone these days seems to suffer from questionable personality traits, I have AvPD but does a disorder exist for breast obsessions if so I have a feeling I’m afflicted, seriously!)

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Note I’m NOT being disrespectful to women, I’d guess it’s essential (male) artists understand how to draw breasts properly. 

You’ll be relieved to read I won’t be writing a breast themed blog!

Jeeze that’s a lengthy introduction to my tale AND I haven’t started yet.

I’ve enjoyed naked sexual fun and games with many women in my lifetime, ages range from 19 to 48, (though Karina told fibs, I’m sure she’s 55 years but a gent never asks does he!) And as you’d imagine all twenty-five ladies were gifted with very different breasts, large or small, pert or saggy, high and round, firm or squidgy, empty and drooping, not to worry I loved them all! Imagine a boob size and shape well I guess I’ve squeezed one…………….. and don’t get me started on sucking nipples or I’ll be here all evening.

(Note Karina for the purposes of this tale isn’t the lady’s real name but I like the name so Karina she is, perhaps one day I’ll write the tales of how I came to meet these women but for now I prefer not to.)

So yes in my lifetime I’ve squeezed many pairs of unenhanced natural, as God intended, human female breasts and gorgeous they were to, and truthfully each time I near fainted when they took their bras off, put it this way the reveal and drop is the definition of eroticism. But not until meeting Karina had I ever slept with a woman who’d implants in her breasts and to be honest I’m in two minds, still! On the one hand I’m okay with falsies because they were Karina’s life choice, she both paid for and loved them so that’s fine by me, enhanced plastic boobs helped her body image, calmed any insecurities and the shape and size made her happy so it doesn’t matter what I think does it.

If I were ask to take a guess I’d say she didn’t get them because men demanded them, OR maybe sublimely did she?🤔😯😕 Who knows either way I didn’t really like them but didn’t say!!

And yes laying beside Karina looking at her burgundy lace bra cupping high round breasts they did indeed look womanly fabulous, her bust profile was exquisitely proportioned to her slim body frame (not porn star pneumatic balloons, yuck no!) The implants suited her, gave her a feminine cleavage however after she’d leant forward, reaching her hands behind to unclip then tossing her intriguing lingerie to the beside chair, well after the moment of freeing those bundles of fun from their restraint they didn’t drop 😦 and I enjoy watching saggy boobs fall to above the belly button. Anyways only after first setting eyes on Karina’s falsies did two horizontal pink lines etched into her skin capture my gaze.

Yep you’ll have guessed (cause I’ve already said), those pink lines were in fact the result of a surgical blade slicing into her skin, 2″ long incisions through which silicon implants had been forced underneath her breast tissue in what must have been a brutal operation. 

Why an earth go under the knife? She could have died!

Now I’ve seen these breast implant operations on the TV and I liken them to meat butchery, horrendous, my Great Grandfather was an army meat butcher in World War One (close to Ypres) and I’d guess he lol could have been a surgeon in another life but I shouldn’t be disrespectful. Well enough to say her surgeon stitched the incisions together (a nice job) and once healed Karina was left with two red unsightly marks for the rest of her life……… hmm I’ll be honest I don’t agree with breast augmentation.

BUT she loved them both so who am I to judge, live and let live I say.

Well because I’m an inquisitive sort of guy, an engineer by trade, I spent the next quarter of an hour asking all manner of questions, prodding squeezing basically giving her my own unskilled type of breast examination and she was happy to teach. In fact she guided my hand with hers to a point above her left implant, I gently pressed and felt a hard 4mm sized circular lump under the skin, I near freaked out with the shock and Karina had a look of concern etched across her brow then she said,

“Don’t worry the lump’s not cancerous”.

Jeeze I don’t think I’ve received such a heart stopping shock before, she should have warned me of a hard lump because I hadn’t frigging expected it!! Karina then went on to explain a hospital biopsy had revealed the lump wasn’t cancerous but I think her broken Polish accent meant I missed the true reason in translation, however she assured me the implant hadn’t split which was my next worry. Suffice to say she was booked in to have surgery this ********* though I could see she was quite concerned………………. don’t you think it a shame that a woman has to endure surgery and silicon bags inserted under her skin to improve the way she sees her body? AND didn’t she understand men love boobs whatever the size and shape I guess not?

I felt disappointed that afternoon, Karina’s implants were firm hard and yes they gave her a perky profile, but I’d loved them to have to been squidgy and jiggle, pendulously swing when she moved just as God intended, so okay they were hard but after 5 minutes of sucking licking and caressing I overcame any doubts……………. well nearly all!

Anyways we both relaxed and began to enjoy each other’s bodies, we kissed passionately the womanly smell of her freshly showered skin passing my nostrils and just so as you know I’m not a great fan of bottled perfume because ladies naturally smell divine ❤ , I’ll choose the clean animal scent of a woman over manufactured smells every time…….. I’ll share no further details, you’re all sexual animals lol you 😉 understand many of the ‘positions’ naked lovers get up to in bed together, even with her dodgy knee! (She got out of bed at one point to click it back into position.)

Enough said, joking apart I learnt you should always see a Doctor if there’s something medically not right with your body.

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Artists drawings of naturel breasts 

I’ll wrap up this post by saying Karina and I will see each other again and no doubt chat about her (our) health but I’ll leave any ladies reading with one thought. I’ve worked with many men, both young and old over the past thirty five years and I’ve yet to come across a guy who liked breast implants, and yes the subject has raised it’s head upon many occasions. Btw if you’re 🙂 curious my take is why bother putting yourself through major surgery if your identified sexual partner doesn’t like them? Discuss. 

There you are lol knowledge shared from me to you, we guy’s love ‘au naturel’ unenhanced breasts whatever their size shape and ‘squidgyness’ so ladies please don’t ever assume we don’t.

©A. Shepherdson 2018

 

Sexy Happy Endings!

Mildly adult themed (been a while since I’ve written an adult true tale) and hopefully a fun read!

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Now a message for any ‘classy ladies’ who may have read my post title and presumed ‘moi’ has written a tale about two people who fell in love and lived happily ever after, or maybe they’re imagining this is ‘moi’ reviewing a movie newly released at the cinema……… well if you did I’m afraid you’re wrong on both counts, which only leaves a third choice which one hundred percent of men will understand………….. having said all that medical doctors tell us masturbation (had you guessed) is the safest form of sex and more important good for one’s mental health and general well being………… and being serious for a second (for this is a serious post) I wholeheartedly agree pleasuring oneself lifts the spirits leaving you feeling satisfied and relaxed. 

couple-massage
Hmm wish I was as good looking as this young man, mind you that black bra looks familiar…… (Googled image!)

Incidentally Urban Dictionary defines ‘Happy Ending’ thus : ‘When a masseuse feels inclined to finish your session with oral sex or manual release’…………… and forget the word inclined that’s what I frigging paid her to do!

Btw my tale for you this evening is themed just for fun 🙂 . 

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One blustery autumn afternoon in late September, a few weeks ago now! You’d have found me laying naked on my back, not a stitch of clothing on my body, my legs wide apart and a Romanian lady by the name of ‘Dana’ kneeling before me, a truly beautiful gorgeous lady gazing down upon me, a delicious wicked smile across her face oh and the reddest glossiest lipstick you ever did see.

“Do you enjoy giving gentleman hand relief?” I enquired,

and when you ‘come’ to think of it massaging a male client’s back muscles with dextrous skilful fingertips, finishing the massage with one hand gently curled around his erection and gently rolling his testicles between thumb and finger with the other, has to be one of the strangest occupations ever!

“Yes I do honey”, Dana answered with a wicked grin, her lubricated right hand rhythmically stroking my love length and circling my purple helmet with warming palms, the joyous tingles and pleasurable sensations coursing from the tip of my penis down to my groin are near indescribable………… only men understand how gorgeous and beautiful those stimulated nerve endings alter his mind, his breath quickens, his hardness bucks and pulses as he draws ever closer to climax.

I once gleaned from secretive Dana where she’d learnt her gift for massage with an erotic twist from? She said after arriving in Britain as an economic migrant, earning money to pay for a deposit on land back in her native Romanian village, she first stayed with a friend in Birmingham but had no job, no income! Then one day her flatmate suggest they both rent a bedroom, advertise ‘certain services’ on an adult website, both working giving intimate Swedish massages…………. massage ‘services’ you’ll not find on your average Town’s High Street.

Well fast forward her tale several years and Dana rented a bottom floor box bedroom within a back street terraced house in a part of Oxford, a place where you’ll not leave your car unattended………….. put it this way if you did, your car wouldn’t be there when you returned!!!

I’d better shorten my winding complicated tale because you all lead busy lives, just understand whilst surfing the net one evening I happened across this LEGAL adult website giving intimate massages, phoned the mobile number hoping I was speaking to the lady in the photographs and well I became her 4 o’clock afternoon appointment that same day.

You’ll all know by now I’m an honest guy, well the website is legal, the ladies are over age 18 and working independently of their own accord and incidentally Dana stresses she gives no sexual services………… which means neither penetration or felatio……… shame really because as I gazed into her eyes I didn’t half fancy a blowjob!

Well I travelled by bus to Oxford, found my way to the given name of the street, texted her for the house number at 3.55pm, then upon reaching the address told her my name through the intercom beside the front door. A buzzing sound came from said door lock and there standing in the hallway was one of the most beautiful young ladies I have ever seen in my life, slim gorgeous with a beautiful smile and warm becoming blue eyes.

I introduced myself and yes she was even more beautiful than her photos suggested, then followed her through one of the many doors into a dimly lit warm and cosy bedroom………..virtually absent of furniture other than a single bed with duvet, centrally heated, carpeted, very clean and extremely tasteful.

I handed Dana the advertised price and then stood there near speechless looking like a complete and utter lemon wondering what to do next? Until she said,

“Well take your clothes off!”

“All of them?” I rather lamely answered she must have though ‘Jesus I’ve a right one here!’

“Yes all of them honey” she said laughing now, “then take a shower” glancing past me toward an even SMALLER side room (wardrobe) no bigger than a shower cubicle………… err that’s what the cupboard was!

So, and writing here and now this anecdote still makes me laugh, Dana stood there in her fishnet stockings, latex high waisted tight fitting hot pants (no knickers hold that thought!) also a black padded bra revealing two of the most exquisitely shaped high round breasts you ever did see, I’m still smiling because this lady I’d known for sixty seconds stood but a metre close to me inside this tiny bedroom, and I near felt her burning gaze as I slipped down my boxer shorts, I glanced up and yes she was appraising my ‘bits and pieces’ ………… now just be aware I’m a clean bunny who was freshly showered wearing clean underwear, but as instructed I took a shower after being handed a fluffy soft towel. 

(Why are Hotel towels always white?)

I should admit at this point Dana’s isn’t the first intimate masseuse I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, one time several years ago I had a finger in the ass prostate tickle but as the days past afterward, I decided the service wasn’t for me…………… yes one for the bucket list but I didn’t enjoy it!

I know I said ‘cutting a long story short’, well now I’m laying naked on her bed face down, a clean towel spread lengthways along the spongy quilt, arms down by my side then Dana places herself sitting on the tops of my legs, her two thighs either side my own and truth be told in a VERY firm vice like grip. Both Dana and I now comfortable I hear her squirt massaging oils into one hand from a bottle, then she began to push her hands deep into the small of my back, gliding them along my spine around my shoulders and all I can say is if you’ve never experienced warm skilful fingers work their magic on tired tight muscles, especially around the shoulders, if you haven’t then omg you haven’t lived! I will add Dana finger’s kneaded pushed and pulled tense muscles but not to worry she brought a true tingling warmth into my skin…………. btw I felt fabulous afterward!

And all the while we chatted about BREXIT, yes you did read right, she’s a working migrant from Romania! I talked about my family, we discussed Oxford architecture and I soon discovered Dana was witty personable friendly qualities you ascertain within minutes of meeting someone new, Dana is an intelligent young lady, then after 15 glorious minutes had passed rather abruptly she said,

“Now turn over!” Having first moved to one side,

followed by a firmly spoken, “spread your legs wide!”

“Wider!!”

Dutifully I ‘widened’ presenting my bits and pieces in what was a rather precarious position, with Dana finally sitting her bum on her thighs kneeling close between them, and omg you just have to know this goddess of a lady was so beautiful with the prettiest sweetest smile you ever did see……………. and a wicked gleam in her eyes! Like I said she enjoyed jerking men off, maybe the thrill for her was being in control and dominating a man, or perhaps giving hand relief is just a fun way to pay the gas bill? Either way it’s times like these that I’ve never felt more alive.

Dana now wearing a pair of delicate latex gloves from a box, slips them on, cups my testicle sack with the palm of her left hand and curls lubricated fingers around the shaft of my penis with the other, oh and I forgot to add I’ve rarely been so hard erect and engorged before. I’d guess staring at her gorgeous boobs and plunging cleavage was the reason for that…….. oh as for knowing she wore no knickers! Well put it this way slightly parted thighs and tightly fitting hotpants revealed all!!

I should say at this point do I really need to graphically explain the process of hand relief? Men of course understand the ‘process’ and I’d guess all women have serviced a partner, anyways all I will add is Dana possessed a skilful technique she described as luxurious (it was!) Well she worked her dextrous magic, my penis bucking as I’m brought to climax then bingo she directs a stream of warm semen across my stomach……………. any men reading appreciate the joyous heavenly pleasure.

(And with boobs as exquisite as those two you’ll appreciate I even impressed myself!)

So there you are the Swedish massage with intimate ‘happy ending’, and for any ladies reading all I can say is if you’re in search of a well paid fun occupation, you could do worse than train as a masseuse…………….. oh and I forgot to say Dana’s Birmingham flatmate gave her the confidence and now she gives ‘happy endings’ for a living!!! 

 

©A. Shepherdson 2018

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (how my tale began)

Third and final part to my true pickup tale.

Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929)
I enjoy looking at great paintings and this Cornish Scene by Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929) looks good on my post bearing in mind my story’s gay theme, btw exhibited at Tate Britain. (Copyright Warwick District Council)

I’m openly honest here on my WordPress, tooo honest sometimes, well I’m hoping you’ll have read my story ‘I bit my Pillow!’ and if you did you’ll remember I said I would let you know which parts are true as happened and which parts are fiction!

‘I bit my Pillow!’, I 😀 agree a bl**dy awful title.

When I said we had gay sex and kissed well that was 100% fiction sorry to disappoint, but as I said yesterday parts are true. So just to be clear the sex is drawn from my imagination………… lol I cannot make you believe me but jeeze I hope you do.

So now you’ve read the tale this is how the episode came about btw in the spirit of fairness and honesty this is an old tale I enjoyed re writing.

Many years ago whilst holidaying by myself in central France, late one summer’s evening I found myself sitting alone inside Le Man’s Railway Station waiting room. The tale of how I came to be there is a rather long and tortuous one just understand I’m feeling desperate, my spoken French is embarrassingly appalling, the Station is emptying about to close for the night and I had absolutely nowhere to sleep that night, my only certainty within minutes the Entrance gates would be locked shut and I was soon to experience how sleeping rough on the Street actually feels…………. a truly spine chilling thought and terribly sad for the people who have no choice!

Then with only minutes to spare a middle aged guy appears as if from nowhere, sits down beside me and strikes up a conversation with this weary disorientated very depressed traveller. I was far from feeling sorry for myself, couldn’t understand him and my tired mind was in the grip of fear and loneliness, he invited me to spend the night in his home and I said yes!

I ask what an earth would you do faced with a night living on the Streets? The possibility of being mugged raped beaten up murdered a possibility, or the comfortable certainty of being driven by a rather polite personable guy to his home? Better still an unknown home where he’d provide you with a warm bed to sleep the night in. What’s more he promised on his life he’d drop me back at Le Man’s Station early next morning!

Lol what a friendly treasure, who could say no?

What a predicament what a dilemma, even if I’d been at my strongest mentally the choice would have been challenging, THAT my mind was frazzled and unable to think straight made the decision easy. But if I’d been consciously aware and thinking straight I would have absolutely figured out he was a gay man with ulterior predatory motives, a guy cruising public places late at night looking for single men to take home and have sex with! If I’d been approached on a railway station platform in Britain I would have politely told the guy to,

“Get blank lost!” (I wouldn’t lol but you get my gist)

But this late French evening I thanked my kind Samaritan and let him drive me to his home, from first meeting him to being whisked across the City into his bedroom seemed a mere blur of five minutes, and to this day I cannot understand whether I was stupidly foolhardy or naïve, qualities that have plagued my adult life. 

So remember the sex in my tale was fiction all I can admit is I must have been frigging tired because to this day I still don’t no why I went to bed with him?…… Honestly the strangest evening of my life, ask me what went on and well the light dial was turned to a warming dim glow…..…..……, I gazed up at a light flex hanging from the ceiling, then got up and slept on his sofa. (We make bad choices in life get carried away suck it up and move on.)

And I felt wretched for months after, despairingly upset is closer to the truth, I understand why people do dread a terrible dark memory seeping into their consciousness, they drain you of all energy and I did lapse into a deep depression, because well I’m straight! Our meeting confused because I consider myself groomed taken advantage of and tricked into bed, and in those months after I’d gaze at myself in the mirror with feelings of shame knowing I had to face the cold hard fact that I was a naïve guy who can be too trusting…………… but hey show me someone who hasn’t made unfortunate choices and I’ll show you a liar!!

So you get the feeling I hated myself? And note my tale is far from sensationalism, all good story’s are prompted by true events.

And what of today? Thinking back all these years later, that I went to bed naked with a naked guy ‘who fancied me’ is deliciously hilarious, the irony now is every time I think back to our night together I cannot help laughing, where’s the sin in admitting I can be tricked when I know I’m straight and omg what a surreal memory and btw I hope you’re thinking to yourselves ‘whatever!’ 😀

I know I know complete madness going home with a guy I’d never met before, even worse when I came out the shower and he’s standing there naked, jeeze he’d lied to me tricked me groomed me and yes I could have been raped or worse it happens………… I wasn’t. I should add I hope you’re not tooo disappointed to read my plump round ass wasn’t lol violated, anyways all said and done my gay French guy tale will go down as the strangest experience of my life……… I only wish I’d been approached by a kind hearted woman with darker motives!

A. Shepherdson 2018 (Just so as you know I had a blast writing these last 3 posts and 😀 I really hope some readers were left disappointed) 

 

 

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (so was it Truth or Fiction?)

Yes I realise ‘I bit my Pillow’ wasn’t the best title to have been penned by an erotic author……………. lol sorry it was the best I could come up with and yes I am happy to say I’m an author (of sorts). Aren’t we all?

No messing. Short and sweet. I’ll get straight to the point and say my tale called ‘I bit my Pillow!’ is fiction HOWEVER DON’T leave my blog quite yet because parts of that tale are true as happened.

(Btw if you are at all concerned, don’t be, my semi true tale is very tame reading but there is a context and I’ll reveal that tomorrow.)

The gay sex, the passionate kissing, the fingers in my ass never ever happened, though for very unique and quite frankly unusual reasons I did go to bed with the Frenchman in my tale, and yes we were both naked both not wearing a stitch of clothing!

So are you relieved? Or disappointed?

Tomorrow I will to tell you why in heavens name I slept with the guy, and how I came to be in his house taking a shower in the first place! It all makes for a fascinating read to myself, but perhaps not interesting enough to share.

(Btw a nature walk with photos follows sooon!)

Should I be admitting all my honesty here? Perhaps not but hey I’m not ashamed of anything and if you wish to read more well tune in tomorrow. 

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

 

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (Erotic)

Remember a tale for adults, all very tame stuff ‘and NSFW.

‘I was tired from traveling bewildered with nowhere to sleep, the choice was stark a park bench for the night or him, so I chose him relieved to be safe at last.’

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gaycomicsboypost.com4I guess an emotional shock heightens sharpens the senses and I remember every detail, he’d taken a chance just as he probably did every evening, he was a lovely guy, a gentleman, he didn’t force himself upon me which I’ll forever be grateful for, I could easily have been raped only to end my days as dismembered body parts in an unknown grave, a missing person never heard of again. Understand he was a nice guy!

Nervously I crept out of his en-suite bathroom wearing only a towel round my waist, clasping clothes bundled in my arms, my comfort blanket, I’d just had a lovely warm and pleasant shower only to be faced by the French guy standing naked a few paces from me. And to say I was startled no shocked is possibly the biggest understatement ever, we’d never spoken simply because my French was non existent and he spoke very little English, call him Gallic relaxed confident, and although nervous and a little fearful I didn’t panic, I’m a good judge of character and he’d been a lovely guy this whole evening.

In fact he’d been a perfect gentleman ever since picking me up at the Station, but beneath my very invigorating hot shower I’d slowly come to my senses, I finally understood he’d been more than very friendly striking up that conversation in the waiting room, he’d been cruising, I’d been picked up! The penny had dropped whilst hot water cascaded down my slim pink body, and I knew as I’d suspected, at long last I was sure he was gay.

Having showered, clutching clothes bundled in my arms I nervously stepped out the shower and walked into his en suite bedroom, omfg there my Frenchman stood like a statue in the doorway, all pink and naked and possibly the biggest fright of my life ‘gulp!’ 

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EROTICA, for Centuries women have found pleasure upon the faces of men. Rosie!

Mildly adult themed therefore NSFW, incidentally did you know the anachronym stands for Not Suitable For Work? Hmm I didn’t until just recently, true.

oralI remember the afternoon I tasted a woman for the first time, close my eyes and I see two naked adults laying on a bed together, one a middle aged guy the other an Irish lady with dusty blonde hair and a few miles on the clock. Curvaceous she was with round perky tits, a tiny waist as you could ever hope to see and conversely wide child bearing hips giving her a classic pear shape figure as only English girls usually have.

So there we lay in a swanky London bedroom (hmm we’ll name her Rosie) the day she agreed to me going down below, she wasn’t sure mind biting her bottom lip with thoughts of I want to but let him wait, and a guy must never EVER pressurise a lady into doing something she’s not keen to. There Rosie lay on a friend’s large double bed, a window to our right curtains drawn with Autumn sun streaming onto us two naked lovers, passion filled and excited as two giddy intoxicated teenagers making love for the first time, the warmth of the sunlight making the temperature just right against a new season chill.

I asked, she agreed and neither of us had come after much kissing and fondling building to an intensity as only fabulous foreplay can do, the consequence both our brains were nervously excited and sexually stimulated as I moved from laying beside her warm fragrant body of sizeable hips and boobs jiggling like cold jelly sitting on a plate. Rosie parted her thighs, slowly to reveal sweet honey as you lift the lid of a beehive, a wonderous gorgeous moment as her lips curtain open, a moment I will never tire of till my dying day ❤ . 

Rosie now laying in the most receptive position a woman could ever give of herself if a little precarious, her outer labia parted revealing moistened pink flesh, plump soft folds near succulent to eat now made ever more shocking contrasted against milky white skin! But no I wasn’t going to slip and slide my hardness inside, no not for a while anyway, this afternoon I’d been given permission to lick and taste this wonderous beautiful oh so erotic opening leading deep inside a woman’s physical soul. 

I knelt before her as if praying at a religious altar, a special Godly place where you discover the meaning to life after entering heaven’s pearly gates. I smoothed the palms of my hands up and down her milk white silken thighs, touching for a second the pink patch surrounding her V, a colour of skin hidden by a woman’s panties and ever so erotic if you happen to see a lady her skirt drawn up her thighs, her intimacy hidden by soft white cotton delicates, if lucky you can just make out this flush tinted skin and yes very different to the rest of her body. Erotic. Secret and seldom often seen?

I’d waited my whole adult life for this moment, Rosie wide open her wet treasure glistening in the sunlight, me kneeling stroking with a finger, touching her pink rose petal the surrounding to her lips only to quickly pull away, tease her, arouse and excite, then Rosie having had enough of my annoying foreplay says,

“Go on Andrew lick me!”………….. a woman of few words was Rosie and if you want something badly enough do you need to ask twice when the connection you have with a lover is a near telepathic joining of souls!

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Beautiful Helen……. pt2 (erotica)

Continued from Helen part one click ‘pingback here’ and 2 days later here’s the ending, also mild adult fiction.

Boob 2

Quick as a flash, I turned and near ran through my living room door………. 

………………… pulling the front door shut behind me! Helen had disappeared from clipping her pink roses hadn’t she, vanished into thin air?

I paused in my driveway my breathing beginning to steady as a spinning brain caught up after a very surreal last half an hour. One minute I’d been jerking myself off watching my gardening neighbour’s jiggling boobs within her yellow blouse, the next Helen over the road lifted the cotton top, showing me her pert round breasts and on reflection I’d say they’re a B cup!

Anyways now I’m perspiring searching for Helen who, if you read part 1, had incredibly beckoned me over to her home!

A thought crossed my mind, ‘the minx was playing games, she’d caught me watching her garden and teasingly flashed her tits’, oh ‘blank’ my heart sank! Helen’s getting her own back, leading me on with intentions of………. ?

A feeling of disappointment seeped into my mind, no more a worrisome thought, perhaps she’d cleared off to tell her husband I’m a Peeping Tom! ‘Oh God No’ as I quite involuntary felt an ache in my stomach, then my mature wet dream with a smiling face appeared from behind the corner of her house.

Waving her arms vigorously, Helen beckoned me a second time calling out,

“Andrew!……………….. Andrew, hurry up man” taking a sideways glance up the road she turned and continues,

“Hurry up, we haven’t much time!” All the while her arm waving me over and quite vigorous it was to, yummy mummy Helen really DID want me OVER!

Hurriedly stepping off the pavement I ran across the road remembering to glance both directions,

“Jeeze I don’t want to be hit by a car not now of all days”, I muttered.

My mind now trying to comprehend what an earth was happening in my life, at the same time a beating heart pounding within my chest blood pumping into my brain giving a numbed headache, a sexually excited thought consumed me as I jogged toward her garage and down a tiled path toward an alleyway leading to her rear garden, ‘doe’s she want my hard dick I wonder?’

From gazing out my window to jogging this claustrophobic pathway is but a minute yet felt like a lifetime, I mused “Hell’s fire, is this crazy woman tripping on drugs?” 

No sooner had I finished saying what could be my final sentence here on earth, my pace slowing to a briskness as I walked from the shadowed confines of a tight walled alley into the glaring sun of a VERY surreal late afternoon!

I stopped, soon followed by a near heart attack that could have taken my final breath as Helen jumped out from behind the house, flinging her arms around my shoulders she drew me closer as her back hit the wall and rather too hard to be comfortable.

Helen’s arms encircling my shoulders, my face but inches away from hers I felt warm breath against my mouth, and pulling me yet tighter into her body my two hands moved aside her hips as curling fingers held Helen’s waist. So close now our bodies touching from chest to thighs I felt her warmth through thin cotton fabric, her bosom rising with every intake of excited breath, my bulging groin now pressing deep into Helen’s crotch, and so large was my thickened dick it felt uncomfortable to move.

We kissed, passionately two adulterous lover’s wet lips parted open, the tips of our tongues touching entwined and dancing, my eyes wide open, Helen’s closed as her head moved from one side to the other her gorging lips devouring mine. For several minutes we deep throat kissed until finally one of us said something breaking a pre coitus silence.

Pulling her face from mine, Helen quite out of breath said,

“Andrew we haven’t much time”, smiling so sweetly her lips pecked me on mine and my heart began to sing, now my frenzied brain had finally caught up with the past 5 minutes near dreamlike incredulity. ‘Oh yes I’m quite alive’ I mused while standing in Helen’s rear garden pressing her against the wall kissing cuddling and for this brief moment her soft wet lips showed all I ever needed to know, ‘Helen wanted me, needed me, loved me!’

“My husband’s buying paint at the DIY store” she smiled a wanting fire lit in her eyes, “there’s no time to f### right now”, that was a shock and a half I can tell you……. ‘WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SEX?’ “But I will jerk you off this time” she continued with a grin “I could see you staring at me and wanking, you dirty devil Andrew!”

Pausing blushing and smiling at my adulterous siren, Helen went further, “I was watching your right arm jerking, tell me did you come?”

“NO, and stopping near killed me Helen!”

Me open mouthed, a look of shock across my face, I just about got a questioning “you mean my curtain’s are actually see through?” 

Then at the very point of Helen answering, my torso pulled back, the palm of my open right hand thrust into her crotch groping and squeezing her intimacy, my fingers prising her thighs apart as they curled underneath her fanny bridge, warm soft no doubt twitching and ready.

Helen gasped whatever she was about to answer unable to come from her mouth.

I squeezed her crotch tighter cupping my palm ever wider, the other hand now tugging at the button of her jeans a sexual excitement overtaking any lingering inhibitions. My imagination had long ago dissipated now replaced by a carnal primeval lust, the only thought ‘my fingers are going between her pussy lips whether she stops me or not!’

(Remember 🙂 this is a tall tale)

My fumbling fingers having unbutton her jean’s 28″ waist I pulled down the cold metal zipper, excitedly tugging at the raw cotton sliding down her shapely thighs, bending my knees as I crouched. Standing again my left arm reached around Helen’s hip an open hand squeezing a buttock feeling it’s roundness beneath soft cotton panties. As my right hand felt her ass, fingers of my other hand fumbled again into Helen’s crotch as I pulled her pantie gusset to one side, wriggling dexterous fingers in between parted folds of moist labia, all the while our faces but inch’s apart staring into each others eyes and both breathing ever deeper.

She smiled again, whimpering panting then catching a breath again as my dancing fingers touched a sacred pleasure spot, and after what seemed an age of fingering Helen’s dripping wet treasure, she worriedly repeated her stark warning,

“Paul won’t be long, we’ll f### another day Andrew” betraying a sadness in her eyes, she continued “you feel so big and thick against me, I’ll take you inside I promise”, then glancing down at her wrist watch and looking terrified, she said,

“Omg he’ll return in minutes, you have to go! NOW!” Such a crying shame I mused with my hand deep under Helen’s crotch and fingers searching for god knows what inside her warm pussy?

The excitement all tooo much for me, remember I was at a point of climax but ten minutes ago, I felt my ball’s rising as their storks shortened, my throbbing penis bucking as gorgeous sensations excited the nerve endings around the rim of my ‘bellend’, “I can’t hold back any longer” I whispered, panicking thoughts of ‘this passion’s all to much for me’ flooding my mind numbed drugged and slightly euphoric.

My eyes losing contact with hers, my head jerked back as I ejaculated thick creamy semen into my boxer shorts, warm and sticking to my thigh, an audible “I’m coming” gasping through open lips as I released, and God how I kept releasing!

The End.

(All very tame content with zero sex, oh and BTW my last erotic sexy tale for a while 😉 )

©A. Shepherdson 2018

 

 

Beautiful Helen from across the road (erotica)

A word of warning this mild adult EROTICA I’ve written this evening! 🙂

Click ‘here’ for ‘Beautiful Helen from across the road’ The Ending!!!

Boobs 4

I’m standing close behind the living room window gazing at my neighbour Helen across the road, but don’t worry she cannot see me I’ve got net curtains that’s why, and take note I’m not a curtain twitcher or a peeping Tom looking at what others are up to in their spare time. No it’s just people pass by and used to look through the window into my living room, so UP went the net curtain!

But watching Helen busying herself pottering around her front garden is different, and I’m not being nosey mind, certainly not because this is me time, a time to gaze and appreciate my beautiful neighbour from across the Road.

Helen’s an elegant young looking fifty year old, with a slim and slender body now crouching on the lawn facing me, one knee pressed into the grass, a trowel in hand weeding around the bases of her delightful and loved rose trees.

Every so often she’ll lean forward her pretty face a picture of concentration as her arms tug at stubborn dandelions the most invasive of plants, and I watch and wait for these very moments because invariably at the same time as her vigorous gardening the looping neck line of Helen’s baggy yellow blouse opens to reveal pendulous firm boobs waving from side to side. Then if I really concentrate my gaze I can just about see her nipples, large dark disks of areola they are, chocolate brown in fact now vividly contrasted against her milk white skinned boobs.

Omg there must be a particularly hard weed to pull out because she has to stand up bend forward and tug with all her slender might, and joy of joys the neck of her oversize blouse drapes further and opens even wider to reveal both breasts now swinging untethered by a tight fitting bra. Oh thank you Sweet Jesus for summer gardening days such as these!

A questioning thought suddenly crossed my mind, jeeze I pondered, Helen doesn’t half spend a long time weeding that same patch directly opposite me! Glancing down at my wrist watch, and now very shocked to see my neighbour in the early autumn days of her life hadn’t moved from weeding that single pink flowering rose tree for, I stared at the dial and quite taken aback I realised for the last ten minutes……… I physically gulped in shock! A cold shiver went down my spine, omg I thought to myself, ‘Helen knows I’m watching, my curtains aren’t blocking my voyeuristic playtime as well as I’d hoped and assumed.’

‘Holy f*ck!’ my brain momentarily in seizure, ‘jeeze what happens now’ I thought with beads of sweat forming on the skin of my brow, and all the time I rushed to let go of the shaft of my hardened penis, tugging at the elasticated hem of my boxer shorts, because yes I’d been masturbating whilst gazing at Helen’s pendulous swinging boobs with chocolate coloured nipples!

As you can imagine my mind’s in a state of excited panic, my heavy breathing isn’t only because I’d been caught watching, no minutes earlier I’d very nearly climaxed. creamy jizz soon to squirt into a white tissue held with the other hand, my excited hard shaft bucking and twitching about to shoot its load!

Yet more panic as I reached down to pull up my jeans and all this time Helen stood like an ashen faced manikin straight out of a teen horror movie, motionless, erect her face staring unnervingly straight at me through a net curtain more see through than I’d ever assumed!

‘What an earth happens now?’ I thought. ‘Does she run for her husband? Call the Police to arrest the peeping Tom from across the Road?’ A myriad of awful doom laden thoughts flashed past my mind as I finally zipped up my jean flies, my clothing now straight!

I felt my cheeks burning hot, cold droplets of perspiration trickling down my torso, my armpits now as warmed as all other erogenous parts of my body, then Helen did something so incredible, so close to unbelievable I nearly cannot write of the shock right here! Helen lifted her two arms, hands clasping the hem of her vivid yellow flouncy cotton blouse, only to pull the garment to first passing her waist, pause, then yet further still up and over her bosom so revealing two round breasts…………….. both approx a palmful therefore from experience I’d say a fulsome c cup.

So previously close to orgasm I nearly jizzed inside my boxer’s there and then!

Open mouthed my face a picture of bewildered incredulity, Helen smiled from across the road and for a second I don’t think I’ve felt such a mixture of relief and happiness mixed into one. But hold on her right hand no longer holding the garment’s waist hem, Helen raised her arm and with a curled up first finger my beautiful neighbour from across the road beckoned me closer.

Quick as a flash, I turned and near ran through my living room door……

To be continued and the link to part two you’ll find at the beginning!

©A. Shepherdson 2018 original and written by me.

I’ve been Blogging for exactly 3 months

No grand speeches or trumpet fanfares I just wanted to say I’ve been Blogging for 3 months now and I promise the Sex Pistols post I keep telling you about will be published next, my Grandfather many years ago used to say to me “you’ll never hang yourself because you change your mind to often”, an odd rather macabre saying but it used to make him chuckle!

Yes three months Blogging and 45 posts published later and I’ll have to admit I’ve been feeling a little disheartened, WordPress can be a little lonely at times but I’ve been Following some truly fabulous ‘new to me’ Bloggers and even if they only look at my Post list once, they’ll see I take ‘creating’ very very seriously oh and the lovely Hester always makes me smile or writes a reply giving a different perspective. (Though I whole heartedly agree she mustn’t read my posts with the more adult content. 😀 )

Btw I am not a sex blogger however quite a few have had sexual themes so there could be more of those simply because I love writing them, I know not every one’s ‘cup O tea’ but as blogger Paola from Argentina always used tell me, “write what you want to (my name)”.  

And whilst we’re on the subject of adult content (erotica) I have six sexually themed posts (fun) unfinished in draft and here’s the working Titles, stumbling onto a shop floor selling women’s lingerie, sex chatrooms and the girls who work incredibly hard, giving cunnilingus, my first vagina face sitting experience, my thoughts on virginity and the afternoon I ‘lost’ mine lol! Anyways I realise they won’t be to everyone’s liking but I’m going to finish and believe it or not I do take great care writing these just be aware my opinions could well be non PC and not quite in line with #MeToo.

So will I be writing here in another 3 months time? Who knows but I enjoy creating and writing and always get an orgasmic thrill when it’s finally time to press that blue Publish button oh and I’m the first to admit I have failings as a writer but I have a good heart which along with tooo much honesty perhaps makes up for my shortcomings.

Finally!

Below are unused Google Downloaded images that didn’t make it here onto my WordPress (they lol help the process), I guess you could say they all represent an idea that didn’t blossom into a published post……………….. lol perhaps imagine for a second why ever not! (Btw to this day the pretty PCSO still appears in my bedtime fantasies, various positions and different stages of undress 😉 ) hmm have I been regarded as disrespectful they’re only written in fun and I adore women in fact I’ll be in bed with one very sooon.

I should add the cartoon with Daphne ‘uhmm loving’ Thelma (Scooby Do!) Might make an appearance yet! Oh and the lady wearing the black jumper is photographed entering Court………. she faced VERY serious charges and I may share my thoughts on her case.

 

Oh and where would I ever be without spellcheck! 

A. Shepherdson 2018

tying a loose end & 1 favourite tuuune

Btw this ISN’T a blog discussing and sharing blog tips, I once read what is I think very good advice ‘that there is little more boring than reading a blog about blogging’ and as Julia once replied to me………… ‘we all wing it here’ and so true.

Having said all of that, if you read my previous post (blatant unashamed advertising lol) you may be curious how the said lady blogger reacted? Did she perhaps consider herself a little offended? Perhaps you’re not curious at all but I’m going to tell you the answer anyway.

Seriously though, being over familiar with my writing or annoying someone here would have been awful. 😦

tumblr_nil4rnaRvI1u7gbido1_500My previous post was/is a response to a lady I follow, you can read Relationship Advice linked ‘here’ and yes a little cringeworthy rereading however it was written with the best of intentions because her post touched my heart. Well to say next day after publishing I was a little worried, jeeze I thought to myself ‘you’ve gone tooo far this time!’ However not to worry she wasn’t offended adding reading had made her laugh and as you may well imagine making someone smile, being a fun read is lovely to know.

Now to my favourite tune, we all turn to YouTube to listen to music videos performed by the artists we love and luckily for us WordPress ‘writers’ we have a resource. Btw take note if you didn’t already know YouTube allow sharing as I didn’t for quite a while. Fortunately if a favourite tune exits on YouTube you can copy and paste a link to one of your draft posts and as if by magic 😮 said video appears just as below……………….. truly amazing.

I’m very much a 1980’s music lover, a little untrue because I’ll listen to any tune originating from any era whatever the genre as long as I like it, however every so often I’ll hear a song that blows me away or for whatever strange reason touches something in my soul? Each and everyone of us has favourite songs, not necessarily because they speak to us emotionally or are special for a poignant reason, no we all have favourite songs because well, they just are!

I hadn’t heard of Gwen Stefani or No Doubt that’s until one Thursday Evening many years ago on BBC’s weekly music show ‘Top of the Pops’. I’d guess the opening seconds of chomping maggots buzzing flies Adam picking that apple in the Garden of Eden captured my imagination, btw an introduction often cut from radio show broadcasts which is quite wrong!

Where was I? Oh yes I clearly remember the beginning with wasps and insects followed by the most incredible tune and performance sung by a very beautiful blonde young woman and yes it very nearly blew me away. Is there any point to me trying to put into words how and why I love the song? Most definitely NO, watch the video and you either understand what I’m saying or lol either you don’t.

A. Shepherdson 2018.

Erotica – bucket lists

PLEASE don’t ever take this post tooo seriously, strictly just for fun.

My WordPress has been rather tooo sensible up to now, and I’ve drunk tooo much coffee tonight, jeeze I’m wired and jumpy as hell, so time me thinks for a candid honest and light hearted sx filled post.

4fdfa67426cc217e75b2b74ddcf83688I’m not a guy who’s turned on by pornography, in truth it bores me rigid, but yes I’m the first to admit Lust is my deadliest sin, I’m not a perv mind. it’s only I do enjoy observing the fair sx note age18+.

 

Every workday morning I arrive at the bus stop invariably to the rear of a certain young lady (at a safe distance note, age19) gorgeous she is, and a-typical bookworm in the purest sense of the word…… read on!

I’m a people watcher in the nicest sense of the word, aren’t we all? 

From the second I first see this bus stop girl to the second she disappears out of view, with head held high, the graceful stride of a female gazelle, she gazes into an open book held but 10 inches from her face. The young lady never stops reading books, an unusual vision to behold, incredible in all my years I’ve never witnessed the like of her before. Jeeze just think of all those wonderful tales and storylines her mind has gorged on, hmm are they romance and sx? If passion and intimacy is her favoured genre then she must be the horniest of ladies, hmm she looks a horny filthy lady, anyways I’m getting off the point.

Is there a point? 

More often than I end up behind the young lady, and unless you travel by bus you’ll not understand that where people position themselves around a bus stop is a science, there’s a lot of social etiquette here. It’s a painfully tedious picture to paint so I won’t!

And yes we do pass the time of day, pleasantries have you will, the weather and other such niceties and all those stories you’ve heard that Brits love talking about the weather, lol absolutely true! 

However.

I can’t help feeling in situations like these, if say an older guy tries to be tooo friendly with a slip of a lady how does he come across, over friendly? Trying to pull? Pervy? If he does then that’s all a little sad then again perhaps that’s why I’m single, you have to chat to these unfathomable creatures that confuse me so.

However yuck she does smoke roll your ciggy’s though, a disgusting habit, and apologies if I’ve mentioned this beauty once before but I write as I think with no idea where a post will take me! (Remember all trace of my previous blog got deleted, lol don’t care if you don’t believe me anyway 😛 )

This lady with the blackest of jet black shoulder length hair is not stunningly beautiful to look at then again I’m no frigging oil painting myself, but what she lacks in beauty she makes up for in sweetness and her slender size 8 figure, a definite size 8 body going by our size obsessed media. Absolutely stunning she is, slim, perfectly proportioned and joy of joys she wears tight body hugging leggings, black and stretchy they are revealing EVERY trim contour, and this slip of a goddess has the most perfect leg line you could EVER wish to see, all leading to a pert bottom with plump ass cheeks that resemble an ‘err’ a peach! That most sweet and succulent of soft fruits.

Yes I’ll stand behind her and gaze down at her peachy ass, no doubt to a casual bystander I’ve the look of wonderment written across my face, I’m not odd but the jury’s out, I just adore femininity whatever age or size as long as they’re age appropriate of course. The only trouble is by the time I’m seated (I sit upstairs so I can look down ladies blouses as the get aboard, she sits on the lower deck) and as my ass hits the seat my dick is bucking and twitching inside my boxer shorts.

(Btw if a guy has the opportunity he will ALWAYS take a sideways glance down an unbuttoned blouse or plunging neckline………… we won’t admit but we all do!

And better still she wears a complete absence of visible panty lines, so as I gaze transfixed at her ass crack I cannot help wondering if she wears a thong or no knickers, do good girls ever go commando? Either way such a sensually erotic young lady 😛

I should point out at this conjuncture, with #MeToo firmly in mind I realise yes I’m objectifying the female form here, though I’m of the opinion a guy can observe (and write nonsense such as this) however he must never put his hand inside the sweetie jar.

Look but never ever touch!

Later come summertime when temperatures rise, she’ll be returning to her closet draw for those tight white tee shirts once again, (I’ll chat about her boobs another day lol), then by the time I reach my seat I’ll either pass out or c’max in my boxers! Holy ##ck, gorgeous fit women are getting tooo much for my broken heart, I fear the local News will run a story one morning, where a middle age man was found dead on the bus!

(Btw I’ve a serious far from flippant post themed #MeToo following sooon, it’s in my drafts. Does anyone read my WordPress or is this a platform, a tool to link prose to Twitter and Facebook? Hmm interesting.)

Read More »

Pretty Lady On A Train (the ending)

Chapter 3 continued

Original fiction'Lady On A Train' 8

………. Emily reached down grasping the hem of her tee shirt at the waist, pulling it toward the ceiling the stretchy cotton fabric no longer covering two large round breasts, revealing hard pointy nipples as big as I’d imagined, chocolate brown against pale pink skin. With one final tug at her hair she pulled the garment over her head, brunette bangs kissing Emily’s cheeks as the hair dropped to her shoulders, tossing the garment I’d wanted off all journey in the sink.

“Jesus what vision of womanhood” I murmured as my eyes devoured her bouncing breasts until I could gaze no more, then pushing my ass into the door I grabbed hold of Emily’s boobs with both hands, feeling hard pointing nipples pressing into the palms.

Emily continued to seduce me with her sexy voice now hushed so no one could hear, “you’re gonna screw me Andrew, make me squeal angel” she said pulling a tube of lubricant from a jean pocket with her right hand. Even if I could have seen my face I don’t think my wide open mouth and shocked expression was gonna stop her lubricating!

Emily swivelling her hips round so she could face the glazed window, allowed me to pull down her jeans so revealing peachy butt cheeks nearly succulent enough to eat, but hold on she wore no panties? That was a shock I can tell you, hmm ‘well perhaps that ticket collector does have them after all’ I mused.

Squeezing glistening lube into the palm of her hand, she asked one last question with a trust in her voice, “Andrew, I hope you are clean” arms reaching round a rather curvaceous butt. Then dividing those peachy cheeks, clever fingers parting her labia with one hand, fingers of the other forcing as much lubricant inside her tight vagina as she could, finally when comfortable she again held the ceramic sink rim with both hands, anticipating, receptive, ready.

“Are you a virgin?” I asked.

“You ARE joking!” Looking back at me mystified, “I f***ed the ticket collector earlier AND he’s got my knickers AND I got my period” she grumbled!!

‘Jeeze is this another dream’ I can’t handle much more drama!

“F*** ME” she shouted, grabbing hold of my hard penis so tight it hurt. Oh yes Emily is alive alright her sticky fingers circling around my purple tip. Then releasing hold of my shaft, gripping the vibrating sink even firmer, I pressed into her kitty sending shivers up my spine as I touched her slippery opening.

Wincing slightly Emily pleaded, “Come on, there’s not much time, I want your cum inside me.”

Not a man to be asked twice, her soft ass cheeks divided, my engorged hardness penetrated Emily’s sticky kitty, its pulsing walls taking me deep inside. Sexually exited, two loving bodies coupled by our hips, I pushed my groin toward her cheeks in rhythm to the rocking carriage, my penis shaft pulling half out then straight back in, pressing my hardness ever deeper into her vagina, my thick girth making Emily squeal with every loving stroke.

Out of breath as if I’d just run a mile, palpably feeling my balls rise, their storks contract as my scrotum tightened, ever faster harder my torso slapped at her ass, her forehead kissing the glazed glass panel. Harder I thrust ……..harder still…..slowing, fearing the soon to be climax I looked to the ceiling for well, the meaning of life? Only to see dirty yellow Formica.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

Emily now looking back lucid and in total control of her senses, understanding the precarious position she’s in unlike me slowing from a near frenzy, I held my pause before orgasm as long as I could, not waiting for her answer just holding onto those pleasurable seconds surely a gift from God, only a man knows how special they feel, spends his whole life craving those blissful two seconds.

With one final encouragement from Emily, a near pleading “well f***ing cum then” my groin orgasmed, convulsions from my hips along the shaft of my lubricated phallus, a near ejaculate explosion between parted ass cheeks pumping semen deep from within my balls into her vagina, gulping as much oxygen into my lungs as I could! My dirty deed subsiding, me deep inside her now, thick phallus stretching her walls to a limit, my Emily crying as I thrust her every last drop of my creamy ejaculate, happy that I’d f***ed her hard!

Still inside her my brutal violation of her genitals subsiding, my breath returning to normal, hands still tight aside her waist, silence was broken by a loud thud on the door followed by a worried ticket collector’s voice.

“Are you ok in there Emily?” There’s a girl come running from outside the toilet screaming to her mother!” Screaming I said to myself, thank God she hadn’t seen what I’d just done, the babe unaware of what dirty filthy joy Emily and I had consummated and WTF he called her Emily!

He asked again, “well are you ok? She’s desperate to use the lavatory!”

Emily coming to her senses as we uncoupled, reaching her hands down searching for her jeans replied to the train guard a tremble in her voice.

“Wait one second we’ve finished!”

“I MEAN I’VE FINISHED!!!”

The End.

(WordPress scrutinisers, I hope you allow this one it’s both tame and vanilla stuff)

A. S.

 

Pretty Lady On A Train (part 5 of 6)

(Original fiction by me) 

1-93160

Chapter 3

What with the dry heat rising from the heater below my carriage seat and the excitement of meeting Emily being too much for me, I’d succumbed to a deep dreamy sleep hadn’t I, and for fear of confusing we return to that scene in the carriage.

Hedgerows streaked past my carriage window now replacing the flat green moorland with its purple tipped heather. Feeling a tap on my shoulder, a shock near stopping my heart from beating, I opened my eyes and there looking down at me stood a man dressed in blue tunic with matching coloured hat. A slender moustached man he was, his hand now recoiling after having shocked my body into life, the other clasping a small metal ticket puncher reflecting sunlight now streaming through our train carriage window.

Bleary eyed I looked up at the ticket collector’s face, paused, then sideways glanced to where my young female friend was sitting. She’d gone, disappeared, from what seemed only five minutes ago I’d been chatting to a pretty young lady with chestnut brown hair and now her seat was empty.

“Where is she?” I exclaimed at the ticket collector feeling provoked, a look of disbelief across my face quickly looking back at her now vacant seat. She’d vanished. My new female friend called… umm…was nowhere to be seen.

Now wide awake, lucidly returning to the land of the living it was dawning on me the screaming pubic haired lunatic, falling out of a run away train, hitting my head and yes dying a horrible death had never happened. It was all a dream and better still my new friend is called Emily!

‘Yes the pretty lady on the train is Emily’, I smiled.

I’d been dreaming hadn’t I, five ten minutes ago a combination of warm air and carnal excitement had nudged me into a deep sleep and now looking at the train official’s face one third time, I realised my violent wretched death had all been a horrible dream.

“Sir you’re back in the land of the living”, my train official replied with a chuckle whilst handing back my ticket. Then moving away, having spotted the lady with the daughter waving her hand to catch his attention, he replied one final time and I might add blushing to.

“What I’d been meaning to tell you sir………..well how can I put this………..your wife has asked me from inside the lavatory, can you please bring her some tissues!” And now his cheeks a full crimson red…………. “our train company has messed up on consumables!”

And with that he turned and rather quickly made for the opposite end of our carriage.
“Oh my god” I said to myself again looking at the cushioned seat where Emily once sat, “this IS the strangest day of my life!”

Reaching for tissues in my pocket and rising out of my seat, excitement reinvigorating my sanity, I moved towards the open door feeling a bulge in my jeans making it uncomfortable to move, anticipating what I assumed would be sex and hoping this girl called Emily didn’t want to show me the art deco sink tap fittings!

My heart began to race again! Fresh blood making the cheeks of my face burn and my penis broaden to its full girth!

Balancing myself as I pushed that same headrest, passing through that very same door Emily had minutes earlier, I stumbled into the dimly lit space coupling two carriages together. Noticing what I assumed was a bathroom door left slightly ajar, and because as we all know ajar bathroom doors are safe to enter, I took a sharp intake of breath and decided to walk in!

Squeezing my slim body around the oak door panel, opening into a space no larger than three foot square. I looked straight ahead facing a woman resting her ass on the corner of a reflective white ceramic sink, her two hands clasping the white china to steady herself.

The woman was Emily, a dark silhouette affront a window emanating such a bright light into our dimly lit cubicle, making my eyes sting uncomfortably as they adjusted to the dark against white contrast. My shoes now glued to the spot a jolt as if on que near leapt Emily onto me, flinging her arms around my shoulders she pulled my body deep into hers.

“What took you so long” she whispered, “I take it the ticket man said I wanted tissues, hell where have you been?”

“I fell asleep didn’t I” relief in my voice and so happy I’d met her again. Squeezing Emily tight, feeling her curvaceous body against mine for the first time, a warmth of affection between us quite intoxicating a new found sexual excitement making me swallow hard!
Then with her mouth close to my ear she whispered softly,

“Andrew we’ve only fifteen minutes before Gromont Station, enough time to feel you inside me.”

“Yes” I replied. “Oh god yes…….please!…………….Emily I need to f*** you”, nuzzling my cheeks into the nape of her neck, the scent of that delicate perfume upon her skin.

“OH GOD”, words stumbling from my mouth.

An icy cold shudder flowed through my body, an omg flashed across my mind like fork lightening across blackened midnight skies. In a state of panic, you have to believe this wasn’t disappointed resignation for whatever her answer I was by now so sexually excited, my dick engorged with blood, throbbing hard and painful within my tight jean crotch, whatever her reaction I was going to f*** Emily.

I’m a kind quiet gentleman but a sexually excited male is always minutes away from animalistic copulation, a desperate need to release his creamy ejaculate urging him on, a carnal desire as old as man himself. It’s at time’s like these an excited male, however decent may not be able to stop from forcing himself inside a woman. Be honest now, how many occasions have passions overwhelmed you and you’ve f***ed without protection?
‘Protection! Damn I’ve no condom’, words no man ever wants to say.

My mind a blur, pleasure giving chemicals surging through my brain I dropped my hands to my belt unclipping the buckle, ‘you’re not going anywhere’ I thought to myself as the cubical creaked and rattled. Leaning back I admired Emily’s locks of brunette hair dancing for the train, her pelvis now trapped between cold porcelain sink and my body unable to move, arms wrapped around my neck pulling me closer, oh and a violent rape flooding my mind!

I stood tall, this bloody train was beginning to make me angry near throwing me sideways into partitioning walls. My waist no longer pressing into hers I fumbled my jeans button open, tugging the fly zipper down, at last feeling relief as my penis sprung forward no longer constrained in tight jeans, its purple tip pressed against Emily’s blue cotton denim.

Then in a moment of clarity, my dick comfortable at last, my heart still thumping I calmly said to her.

“Emily I’ve got no condom! A mixture of shock and distress in my voice.

Emily recoiled back toward the window, releasing her arms from around my neck pushing my shoulders away at the same time, two strangers facing each other less than two feet apart. She looked into my eyes our waists the only parts of our bodies touching, then raising a finger to my lips she said.

“It’s ok Andrew”……”I’m clean and I trust you”, smiling a wicked love in her eyes.

“I never f*** with a condom anyway, I only take a man if I can feel the skin of his dick inside me”, throwing her head back giggling like a sex starved girl from a single sex boarding school.

Pushing me away still farther, so forcibly, my back hit the cubicle door slamming it shut, “God that hurt” I whispered to myself, visions of a trolley dolly listening the other side, witnessing the dirty deed I was gonna inflict on this pretty girl with brunette hair.

To be continued with the final part (ending) tomorrow…….

(Anyone loyal to my tale is possibly thinking lol, ‘thank God for that!’

A. S.

Pretty Lady On A Train (part 4/6)

(Original fiction by me)

Pretty Lady On A Train - part 5

Chapter 2

One agonising minute passed!………………..Then one more………..then another and what with the soft cushioned headrest, warmth rising from the heater beneath, rhythmic rocking of the carriage not forgetting meeting an Emily, the delicious combination too much for me I drifted into a deep sleep.

Another five minutes passed when a gentle tap on my shoulder woke me from my dreaming. Coming to my senses I looked up at a man standing wearing a blue hat with ticket puncher in his hand, a nice face if a little bemused.

“My apologies sir” came a male voice, “but I’m afraid I must see your ticket!” Quickly rummaging through my jacket pockets confused as to reasons why, I handed the ticket collector the creased piece of paper rising out of my seat at the same time, a sudden urgency to find Emily propelling me at him my hand grabbing the very same headrest she’d held several minutes ago.

“Oi careful” he exclaimed “what about this ticket” pushing it toward me. Pausing apologetically I snatched the ticket from his hand, I’m numb and confused, he’s pissed at my rudeness.

“And you’ll be wanting this” presenting what looked like a pair of pink panties from his pocket, I could feel they were damp as the soft cotton’s exchanged into my hand.

“But five minutes ago a young lady walked right past you” he continued, “came right up to me whilst I chatted to a lady and her young daughter!”

“WHAT?” Visions of Emily ever clearer.

“You were asleep sir, your wife paused to look at you then near ran up to me pressing this underwear into my hand”, now seeming rather pleased with himself. “She called her a nosy bitch then ran up the aisle in that direction” pointing to the open carriage door farthest from me.

“Crying she was sir, very upset.”

I sat back down in Emily’s seat both hands pressing upwards into my cheeks tearful eyes staring straight ahead, a feminine scent breezing my nostrils.

“Well I’ll bid you a goodbye” patronised the guard, leaving the pink cotton delicate with me before proceeding to enter the carriage door, the door Emily had walked through but ten minutes earlier.

Pulling damp cotton from my face, I looked down at the scrunched up ball of material resting upon my unfurled palm, just making out a large circle of crimson red, she’d been bleeding into her panties gusset hadn’t she!

You can imagine the state I’m in, shaking my head angry at myself for falling asleep, “how could I be so stupid” I muttered followed by grief stricken, “jeeze Andrew you were gonna f**k her and now Emily’s gone.”

‘Hold on’ I said to myself, this is a train, it hasn’t stopped no one’s gotten off and with a new found composure I was on the move again.

‘EMILY IS STILL ON THIS TRAIN!’

Holding that thought in my mind I turned and ran along the carriage aisle, right past a startled mother pulling her daughter close to her bosom. Carried on running so I did, through the open doorway, past a closed toilet door finally coming to a breathless halt in that small area where two cars join.

Then a second great shock of that afternoon! Who’s standing before me but Emily, naked, not a stitch of clothing on her body, an outstretched hand clasping the shiny handle of an open carriage door, the one you use to alight and depart through.

Wind rushing inwards, sucking in sounds of clackety clack as the carriage hurtled along it’s tracks, a cacophony throbbing in my head so loud I couldn’t make out the words Emily was mouthing me. What a wondrous vision she looked, beautiful and wild with a brunette mound of hair sprouting from her vagina her tits bouncing up and down to the rocking rhythm of the coach.

Looking away from her hair covered genitals, Emily’s pretty smile had been wiped from her face, the feature I most love had disappeared, scarlet rich blood replacing the emerald green in her eyes.

“What are you saying” I shouted, “what?” “I can’t hear you!” With that she beckoned me closer, cold rushing air blowing her hair the vision of a she devil if ever I’d dreamed one. Dutifully following her directions near staggering my way forward, one outstretched hand pushing against the toilet door inching me ever forward until one metre distance lay between us.

“What!” I shouted again, the violent cacophony of noise deafening both our hearing.

Emily no longer the lady I’d fallen in love with, evil raging in her eyes, viciously growled shouting “you missed your chance you c**t!” Whilst tossing her head back and screaming like a lunatic. Then with all the might this woman could muster she lunged forward propelling both hands into my chest, pushing me off balance toward the open door my hands unable to clasp the door frame as I tumbled onto the tracks, Emily a dark silhouette in the carriage door looking back at me as I smashed my head against sharp ballast, gasped my final breath and died!

And here’s you thinking I was going to the dining car, Emily and I sharing lunch together, me fingering her wet pussy as we ate Dover Sole.

To be continued……………..

A. S.

 

Pretty Lady On A Train (part 3/6)

Continued………………….

Pretty Lady On A Train - part 4

Fifteen or so minutes passed into our journey together and our conversations became happier and fun, giggles from her at my small talk, it takes me a while to relax but once warmed I like to think myself as an amusing guy, a turn of phrase here and there, an anecdote or two amusing her and now a quarter into our journey we are good friends.

Then Emily did something quite unexpected she ceased talking. Looked down at her map unfurling the sheets with renewed concentration to I guess see how far we’d travelled? ‘Oh shit’ I thought to myself recoiling back, elbows still resting on the tables edge, ‘what did I say wrong?’ ‘Why’s she suddenly lost interest?’ Anxiety flooded my mind I’m a sensitive soul ‘had it crossed her mind we’re becoming that little bit too familiar? A little over friendly for two complete strangers who’d only just this met?’

My heart sank. I wasn’t chatting her up most definitely not, I’m crap at that anyways. Night time in bed, hand holding my dick I’ll dream of pulling in a nightclub, ambitions to leave with a young lady and find ourselves a dark alley where she’ll lean back against a wall. Excitement engorging, I’ll lift up her dress pull down her knickers and I’ll penetrate her forgetting my condom, yes a little worse for wear but still sane enough to withdraw come the time.

Feeling deflated I watched her head drop, fingers tracing coloured lines denoting roads on her walkers map, and with a resignation I sighed an ‘Oh well the young lady’s mind’s elsewhere, oblivious and hunched over her fully unfurled paper drawing’. Then looking up, her eyes sparkling, Emily caught me watching her jiggling boobs and pointing nipples getting harder. ‘Damn’ I thought feeling my cheeks burn. It didn’t matter though, she smiled leaning forward and closer, her hands reaching out her delicate fingers now warm to the touch pulling my arm toward her, pressing my hand into the table making sure it wasn’t going anywhere.

“You are a sweetie” Emily’s whispered, head close to mine her tips of long brown hair kissing our dividing table. ‘Wow I was being seduced!’

Emily’s lips slightly parted made moist from the wetness on her tongue, and so sensually my heart literally melted. Then she spoke! Gosh her voice had changed, she’d suddenly transformed into a romancing more sexual woman. Then a thought a flashed across my mind, ‘wow she’s going to kiss me and her nipples are so large I can trace the outline of her areola beneath thin cotton’ fabric’ yum that me hard!

“Andrew”, breaking our silence her eyes childlike alive betraying a naughtiness, “you’ve been looking at my tits from ever since you climbed aboard this carriage.” Totally taken aback by her intimate and dirty phrasing, yes dirty is the word, I thought ‘what kind of lady says tits to a complete stranger she’s never laid eyes on before?’

As she spoke Emily’s finger tips walked further up my arm coming to rest on my shoulder pulling me towards her. Feeling a warm breath in my mouth, her heart rate pushing air from deep within her lungs and if you’re wondering her breath smelt pleasant, which was lovely. Leaning ever closer, her hand atop mine tight ensuring I wasn’t to be going anywhere, a delicate floral perfume breezed past my nostrils, a scent I hadn’t noticed before.

“Come on answer” she said with a girly giggle, she didn’t care in the slightest so what we’ve only just met. “So Andrew tell me why you’ve never stopped looking all journey”………..”they’re my best asset don’t you think?” Both of us now staring at two mounds beneath her thin cotton tee shirt.

Swallowing hard I replied a boyishly and quiet “because I’d love to see them”, then feeling ever more confident “because I want to suck one of those hard nipples”, whilst trying not to laugh at the same time! ‘Wow where did that brazenness come from, I deserved a slap around the cheeks, Emily crying out for the guard!

“No” Emily replied recoiling away, my face must have been a picture, mouth wide open with thoughts of ‘omg what have I gone and done now’, the pit of my stomach aching as though punched hard!

I was dumbfounded frozen in time, not a part of my body moved as I watched Emily stand from her burgundy vintage cushion, she caught my eye kissing me another one of her sweet smiles, ‘phew that was close!’ The path we tread in life is so precarious, her response could just as easily to walk away offended disgusted, don’t you think living is just luck and chance and little else?

Inching her curvy hips around the table, revealing shapely thighs inside tightest of tight blue jeans my eyes following the contour of her crotch, that oh so sexy curve of a woman’s body disappearing through her vagina bridge and what I assumed was a plump firm ass, “you’re a fine looking woman” I whispered to myself.

My attention now drawn to the outline of Emily’s frame, a gorgeous size 10 figure having risen from her seat, her left hand reaching out with fingers clasping onto the headrest beside the door frame. Held open incidentally by a stopper so as to allow refreshment carts to pass through. Pausing for moment, our carriage rhythmically swaying side to side, standing tall now balancing in the aisle between two seats Emily swayed in time to this rhythmic old carriage.

Slipping her rain coat down over her shoulders, throwing it back to the seat she’d just vacated, Emily looked the handsome young woman she actually was, taller than I first assumed her smoothed cotton tee shirt hiding a slim waist yet at the same time clinging to her curvy large breasts. Jiggling they were, gorgeously quivering in response to our train weaving itself through rain sodden northern moorland. Emily gazed into my eyes, smiled, momentarily looked toward the other end of the carriage ascertaining how many people accompany us, and for your information I was correct, a young woman and her five year old daughter sat many rows away.

Turning to face me again, with a hushed voice knowing our micro family could be listening, Emily said. “I need to pee wait five minutes then follow me” pointing at the propped open door as she moved away, catching my eye with a tiny wink.

In shock and rather exhausted I reclined into my soft vintage cushion, rubbed mist off the glass and gazed out the window watching hedgerows streak past, a new scenery replacing the monotony of purple tipped heather. ‘Wow’ I thought to myself they’d never believe this at work’ my heart rate slowing a little, ‘and now she wants me to follow her to the bathroom!’ Eagerly grinning I teased myself, ‘So Andrew are you going after her or sit here and read your book?’ Twenty minutes ago I was a tourist making my way to a Yorkshire village famous for drama’s on the telly, now I’ve just been propositioned by a hiker called Emily.

A. S.

To be continued in part 4 tomorrow………….

 

Pretty Lady On A Train (part 2)

(Original fiction written by me)

'Lady On A Train' 2

………. I hadn’t noticed the lady’s face or her bosom until a little way into our journey. The train had stopped at Gothland Railway Station, hurriedly I’d clambered aboard crossing a grubby green carpeted aisle, my legs touching brushing past her jeans on the way, making a mental note she’s wearing walking boots. ‘Hmm she’s a tourist just like me’ I’d thought to myself before taking a seat by the window. And do you know what, in the rush I really hadn’t given the lady a second glance.

Well that’s untrue, when seated I looked across for the briefest of moments, enough to see her head was bowed, an assumed concentration etched across her face reading a map. (Hold that thought) Then getting myself together I laid my belongings out on the table, sighed rather loudly and gazed out the window watching the incredible scenery pass before my eyes. Only then after a couple of minutes did I turn to look at my female companion, only then did I notice that her walker’s rain coat was unzipped open exposing two mounds of rather large breasts, all within tight navy blue tee shirt I might add! So of course my attention’s magnetically drawn to her rather prominent nipples pointing through the soft stretchy cotton, oh yes I noticed those two alright! Walking boots and an outdoor coat all indicate she was a hiker and there’s a coincidence just like me, I’m virtually dressed the same though without the hard nipples.

‘Hmm they’re rather yummy’ I smiled to myself.

The train pulled away and slowly rumbled its way through beautiful rain sodden countryside, flat damp and evergreen with only spongy heather for vegetation. Now comfortably settled with rucksack on the seat beside me, heritage train book and packed lunch an arms length away in front on the table, we rocked and rolled through a picture perfect beautiful landscape that attracts people from across the globe. Yet on cold wintry summer days such as these, a low grey cloud, a persistent deluge of heavy rain meant we were the only two souls in the carriage.

Though hold on a second, a hushed chatter from what sounded like a young woman in the distance, also muffled occasional squeals of laughter from a child in the distance, we were in fact NOT alone. One voice slightly higher pitch making the number five pop into my mind, ‘could be a girl of five years old?’ I mused. And with that I guessed a mother and daughter were seated at the very far end enjoying a day out like us two strangers.

Anyways the change in weather meant only we four travelled today in a carriage pulled by this gruff throaty diesel engine, 1960’s, preserved for tourists in search of nostalgia.

We trundled our way through rural Yorkshire me time to time glancing across our shared light coloured oak table, and looking about the rail car the whole interior’s a soft golden hew. Though being honest any fascination with historic trains was receding my mind now alive dreaming sexual possibilities with this gorgeous creature opposite. Every thirty seconds or so I’d glance across at her breasts jiggling side to side and up and down, they were large enough to notice and certainly enjoyable to watch, bouncing higher when our carriage jumped two connecting rails and making no secret this pretty young lady had boobs on the bigger side.

I thought to myself she should really be wearing a bra because they’re just that little too heavy not to be supported, in a few years when she reaches thirty they’ll drop, sag to not far above her belly button, but they’ll still look adorable pointing outwards, still look sexy as older woman’s boobs do. I nearly said to her ‘you’ll only ever get sexy cleavage again by wearing a Wonderbra’, I didn’t.

Anyways as you’ll have deduced by now my attentions are drawn to her boobs rather than spectacular scenery, then totally out of the blue she looked up from the map she’s interestedly following and beams me such a sweet smile that my lame nervous reply didn’t seem to matter. Awkwardness and silence broken we begin to chat about where we lived, occupations that employ us, partners, oh yes I managed to slip that one in!

Turns out we’re both ‘single’ and in truth I am, but a pretty young lady like Emily is NO WAY single yet she wears no wedding ring, no engagement ring and as you’re too well aware a guy always looks at a single girl’s ring finger!

Warmth flowed between us, a friendly conversation is struck up and it’s a given Emily and I liked each other, oh yes I forgot to tell you she’d let slip her name was Emily, a pretty name don’t you think? Hmm, Andrew and Emily has a nice ring to it, where was I, yes she wore no rings, maybe a woman who’s up for extra marital sex removes her band of gold, yet a girl betrothed sometimes leaves her engagement on! Confuses me so, is she single or is she not?

Returning my gaze to her red lips appearing fuller rosier in colour now, hmm that’s odd Emily wore no lipstick! Our shared carriage had been warmed by hot air blowing up from under the seats, the engine working harder pulling this great length of carriage had plumped Emily’s lips, flushed her cheeks a soft shade of pink, our heated intimate carriage space ensuring her feminine sexiness sparked alive. A wicked thought crossed my mind, doesn’t warmth inside a lady’s pelvic region make something else down there blush rosy red, make her catch a breath as she crosses her legs!

‘Emily is single’ I grinned to myself.

To be continued……………………

A. S.

Pretty Lady On A Train (part 1)

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(All you really need to know is this tale was written by me, is original fiction in every respect and perhaps not the masterpiece I think it is 😀 , either way I had fun writing. A.)

Chapter 1

“Winter’s come early”, said the young lady sitting on a cushioned seat near opposite me, her abruptness waking me out of a lonely daydream, quite a shock actually.

“Pardon Miss” I replied startled, my eyes now focused on a rather pretty face with warmth and love in her eyes. Hope I didn’t scare her but when you’ve hardly spoken to a living soul all morning, sudden questioning can be one hell of a shock!

“Winter’s come early”, she repeated pushing her arms and shoulders forward, fondly smiling, making out she was shivering and I’d guess pressing clenched hands deep into her lap. I say guess because a large wooden table between us obscured my view of her waist down.

Such a strange involuntary reaction shivering, I wonder if it really helps one warm chilled frozen stiff muscles?

The young lady continued smiling, lifting this lonely guys spirits and don’t you find the time span for a smile represents how greatly a lady likes you, what she wishes from you in return? Too short and she’s forcing herself to make small talk, too long and she’s really into you or is that soppy old me reading too much into feminine flirtations again, just be aware when a lady starts to talk to me I fall in love and this happens a lot!

I returned a smile this time going one step further and looking deep into her eyes, yet at the same time inwardly panicking having been caught off guard. So much so I nervously answered with possibly the lamest most awful reply known to man, wait for it!

“Yes but the weatherman on the radio said it’ll brighten up by this afternoon”, when really I wanted to say something very different, my eyes glancing below her chin for a split second then lower still before returning upwards and re capturing her gaze. Oh yes what I really wanted to say to this pretty lady, not beautiful as in a makeup model straight from Vogue magazine beautiful, no she was very much the pretty girl next door type, lovely delightful appealing with curly long brunette hair resting atop her shoulders.

The actual question crossing my mind as I gazed at her pretty smile, me now feeling the very end of my dick tingle and twitch the shaft hardening to the point of feeling slightly uncomfortable inside tight jeans, what I really wanted to say was.

“Honey why are you not wearing a bra?”

To be continued………………………..