Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 09


In case you have not read any of the previous chapters in this series – and because this is in the “Toys..” rather than “Mature” category, though one is in “Exhibitionist..” – here is a brief resume.

Joan, a mature divorcee has placed a personal newspaper ad for “no strings adult fun”. As a result she has now in fact taken up with two lovers. To her initial shock, David turned out to be the now-grown son of her former neighbours. He is half her age.

Laurence is a professional gent slightly older than her who “likes to be dominated a little”.

In the final few chapters Joan and her two lovers spend the night in a hotel. Joan surprises them by wearing bridal attire for a series of role-play scenarios.


Despite her determination to keep the arrangement “no strings”, Joan always enjoyed the cosy intimacy after sex as much as the foreplay and the sex act itself, when the ardour and passion gave way to tender, lingering kisses and slow, light caresses. She also relished falling asleep in each other’s arms.

She knew, too, that both David and Laurence had the same liking. And right now she felt that she owed it to David to spend some relaxed time with him. After all, her first liaison with him that evening had been — albeit by choice — a hurried business, supposedly a quick and torrid seduction of him as she awaited the arrival at the honeymoon suite of her bridegroom.

So now she and David cuddled and kissed, tasting the wine on each other’s lips and tongues. Then her young lover slipped into a light sleep, sated, and Joan cradled his head to her breasts. She smiled to herself, thinking of Laurence her “bridegroom”, alone in the king-sized bed awaiting her while she lay, cramped, on the single bed next to David, her lover and former neighbour who was half her age.

Joan thought of her philandering ex-husband, Paul. Although they were now divorced, and although he was oblivious to what she was up to, it felt good to be striking a secret blow of revenge on him with her wanton behaviour and fantasy of bridal unfaithfulness. She surrendered to the sleepiness that shrouded her.

She stirred some time later and allowed herself to awaken slowly and gradually, casting her mind back over the naughty events of that evening. She gazed with satisfaction at David’s young skin and body. He was no muscle-bound bodybuilder or sportsman, but he was well toned and carried no excess fat. She smiled again as, in her mind, she contrasted him with Laurence’s older, portlier figure.

Instinctively she found her hand gliding down under the bedclothes to seek David’s wilted manhood. She took it in her palm and gently tugged on it a few times. She swept the bedcovers back and leaned over. She planted a few light, lingering kisses on his musky tip.

David gave a low sigh and began to stir. Joan kissed him tenderly on the mouth and slid off the bed. As with Laurence she felt oddly embarrassed as she walked, naked, to the en-suite bathroom, but made no attempt to cover her nudity from him.

She pushed the door closed as she took a pee and washed her face. Then she picked up her flimsy white nightdress from the floor where she had discarded it and slid it over her head. She also picked up her bridal headdress and veil from the towel rail where David had placed it after washing it clean of his seed.

David propped himself up on his elbows and looked longingly towards the bathroom door that was slightly ajar. Part of him wished her to stay, but he had to admit that there was something dirty and alluring about sharing her with her older lover, about her coming to his bed soon after having sex with Laurence, and rejoining Laurence once more after having sex with him, David.

It was an act, a role, a fantasy that she was acting out, and David still had enormous respect and affection for her. But tonight in particular she was combining her ladylike true self with the behaviour of a slut. He had never felt so aroused.

The bathroom door swung open and for a moment she stood in the doorway smiling coyly at him. He felt his groin tighten and felt a little surging salute of approval as he gazed at her. Where the thin fabric hung away from her body her skin was barely visible, but it hugged her ripe, C-cup breasts, displaying their shape and her muted skin tone.

Her nipples were flat, round and showed as large circles through the gauzy material. And although her nightdress did not cling to her crotch there was no mistaking the dark patch of her bush that she had trimmed into a heart shape especially for that evening.

Joan walked softly to his bed and kissed him on the mouth. Her lips tasted sweet and he could still detect the wine. David cupped her soft breast through the warm, flimsy fabric. Joan sighed with delight at his gentle kneading, then she pulled away.

“I have to go now, darlin’. My husband will be wondering where I am. And he’ll be wanting HIS prick sucked, too…”

David felt a wave of revulsion Ankara travesti and naughty satisfaction at the reminder of her alternating between partners. He saw her eyes alight on his rising erection.

“But while I’m sucking his older, slower-rising dick, darlin’…”

To his delight she licked her finger and stroked his tender tip.

“I’ll close my eyes and imaging it’s YOUR younger, quicker-to-rise one going hard in my mouth and YOUR seeping salty man-juice into my mouth and coating my tongue! And as I swallow those first dribbles I’ll pretend they’re yours, darlin’!”

He groaned at her coarseness and at the sensation and sight of her hand shafting him slowly and teasingly gently.

“And when he comes — maybe in my pussy or perhaps over my ripe, squashy, mature tits — I’ll close my eyes and imagine it’s YOUR hot sticky spunk shooting up inside me or spattering my skin! Hmmm, darlin’?”

David groaned in response, unable to think of an adequate reply. Joan stood upright, turned her back, and walked slowly and slightly mincingly to the door.

Joan was glad that the hotel was now fairly quiet and the corridor was deserted. Having flaunted herself in her thin nightdress to a couple earlier she had no wish to do so again. She walked quickly and softly the few yards back to the room that she and Laurence had booked into. She opened the door and slid inside.

Faint light from the window still bathed the room. She had opened the curtains earlier, and, satisfied that nobody would be able to see inside, had left them open. Either Laurence was asleep or else pretending to be. She gazed at his chubby chest and at his plump but kindly face.

Joan padded to the bathroom and re-applied her make-up subtly. She slipped out of her nightdress and went back into the bedroom. She left the bathroom door slightly open, wanting a little more light in the room but wanting to preserve the effect of light and shade.

She gazed in the large mirror at herself. A sense of shame flooded her as she saw her reflection and considered her actions so far that evening. There had been the deliberately hurried liaison in her wedding gown when she had played at seducing David while supposedly awaiting the arrival of her drunken husband. Besides the illicitness of the role-play, its swiftness and intensity had made it one of her most enjoyable sexual experiences to date.

Then David had hidden as, dressed in a white corset, she and Laurence enjoyed foreplay. David’s fingers had even secretly stroked her as Laurence also caressed her. It had ended with Laurence ejaculating over her breasts as David lay concealed under the bed, fingering her panties and shafting himself to the accompanying sound of the creaking bedsprings.

And she had just returned from David’s room where they had had sex in the shower, culminating in his ejaculating over her veil-covered face. And now, here she was again with her “newly wed husband”.

She took a deep breath and stepped into her tiny white panties and tugged them up. She slid her feet into her white stockings and eased them up her fleshy legs. They were not hold-ups, but they would be okay for her purposes without suspenders. Then she pulled on her wedding gown.

She stepped over to the bedside cabinet and from the drawer she retrieved one of two dildos she had brought. It was big, certainly considerably larger than any real penis she had ever encountered, though shaped like one and complete with veins, and made of flesh coloured latex.

Her heart was pounding. She was about to embark on a fantasy she had often entertained but never indulged in. And, as was happening with increasing regularity, her embarrassment and shame fuelled her excitement.

She heard Laurence stir and looked across at the bed. His eyes were hooded, but she knew that he was only pretending to sleep.

Joan walked across to the armchair. She smirked to herself as she recollected how David had hidden behind it earlier in the evening as, in her white corset and bridal headdress she welcomed her supposed bridegroom Laurence. She sat down, placed the dildo on the floor, and hitched up her dress.

Laurence was half-hard already and the soft rustle of her gown aroused him further. Still keeping his eyes half closed he looked across at her. The lighting added to the sensual effect; the curtains were still open, allowing faint, soft light to creep into the room, and the shaft of light from the half-open bathroom door part-illumined her garishly by contrast.

Laurence watched as she ran her fingertips up and down her white-stockinged thigh. In the quietness he heard the soft scratching sound of her fingers on the nylon. Above her white stockingtops her thigh was plump and inviting, and her tiny white panties nestled against her crotch. Above them he could see her pubes that she had cropped into a heart-shape for the occasion.

He heard her sigh and he watched as, with her eyes closed, she traced her other Antalya travesti hand over her breasts, lightly stroking them through the white satin and lace of her wedding dress. Her expression was serene.

Joan opened her eyes enough to see her “husband’s” eyes upon her. She felt herself blush and closed her eyes again, but it aroused her greatly to have seen the hunger of his gaze. She cupped each breast in turn and kneaded it gently, then more firmly, still caressing her thigh with her other hand, running it along the lacy stockingtop and over her soft skin above it.

She swirled her fingertips closer to her rising nipple, then away and closer again, building her own excitement — and Laurence’s, too. She took her nipple between her finger and thumb and pinched it lightly, twisting it and tugging gently on it through her dress. She gave a little gasp of genuine delight and heard Laurence echo it with on of his own as, still feigning sleep, he continued to watch.

Laurence saw her lean forward and put her hands behind her back to unzip her dress. She gazed down tenderly and self-approvingly at her neckline as she slid it slowly down, anticipating Laurence’s longing for her breasts to appear.

Under the bedclothes Laurence rubbed himself discreetly, willing her to bare her mature, slightly sagging breasts, but still she teased him, sliding it down just enough to bare the very tops of her orbs. She dug one hand down her neckline and he watched it eagerly as it moved under the fabric. He gazed up at her face. Her eyes still appeared to be closed, and her bridal veil covered the top of her head.

Her left hand circled around the front of her white panties and then began to gently rub up and down it. He gazed as the flimsy fabric moulded against her contours, and watched her ring-adorned finger. She dragged it slowly up and down her slit that was now clearly visible. She did this for several delectable minutes, and with a surge of arousal Laurence saw an unmistakably moist patch appear on the thin fabric. Then, to his further delight, he saw her drag her panties to one side. He stared at her crinkled, pouting folds.

Joan gave a low whimper as she raised her finger to her mouth and licked it, then she returned it to her shaved pussy lips and slowly and tenderly stroked her folds, up and down, and, nestling her finger in her slit, rocked her puffy lips from side to side. Her physical pleasure was heightened by the illicitness of pleasuring herself in the presence of a man – her lover, her “bridegroom” – and to be doing so in her actual wedding dress.

The sight enthralled Laurence. He had never witnessed what he now saw. Her behaviour shocked him yet aroused him intensely.

Joan touched herself there often and knew exactly how to stimulate herself, when to speed up or rub harder, and when to slow down or move her hand away for a while to prolong her pleasure. Out of her slightly closed eyes she glanced at the slow, secret but lewd movement of Laurence’s hand under the bedclothes.

Laurence saw her hand ease her neckline down and watched her ripe breasts flop free. They surged deliciously as she adjusted her dress. Her followed her gaze down to her taut nipples. Like her, he watched the pinching and tugging movements of her fingers as she teased and stimulated them. She held a nipple between the finger and thumb of each hand and shook her squashy orbs. The sight of her rhythmically surging, swaying flesh almost mesmerised him.

He heard her give another whimper as she ran one hand slowly down over her bunched-up wedding dress until it met her crotch. With two fingers she held her panties aside and with the others she teased her puffy lips and clit, alternating between slow, gentle strokes and firmer rubbing movements.

Joan luxuriated in her self-pleasuring, taking the pace slowly and gently, savouring too her exhibitionism and the fantasy of Laurence playing the part of her husband who was unable to satisfy her. She glanced across at her reflection in the large wall mirror.

It was hard to make out in detail due to the half-light, but she was shocked by the spectacle of herself; her wedding dress was bunched around her midriff, her breasts hung free, and her panties and stockingtops were exposed. Without suspenders one stocking was starting to slide down her thigh, and her panties were thrust to one side, too. She felt a real slut, despite being decked in her bridal gown and headdress with its veil flicked behind her head. Her slutty appearance fed her sense of naughty pleasure.

She was conscious of Laurence’s eyes upon her as she gazed deliberately down at the dildo on the floor. She reached out and picked it up. For his benefit she gazed at it as if it were real and stroked it gently and tenderly, caressing the tip, stroking the length and the artificial bulbous veins.

Laurence was now making no effort to keep his eyes even partially closed. He tugged on his erection beneath the bed sheet, conscious İstanbul travesti that his tip was dribbling pre-cum. He stared as, with her eyes closed, his supposed bride began to drag the obscenely large artificial dick up and down each of her inner thighs. He watched, spellbound, as she trapped it between her thighs and squeezed them together, rocking slightly from side to side as she held it tight.

She teased it over her tender skin above her stockingtops and guided it around the gusset of her tiny white panties. She rubbed it, agonisingly slowly along her slit that was clearly visible through her panties, and slapped it gently against herself. Her flesh yielded erotically. The sight and sound were almost a torment to Laurence as he lay on the bed.

Joan tugged her thin white panties aside once more and rubbed the artificial dick against her swollen lips. She sighed with genuine pleasure. She gazed down and watched the flesh-coloured latex as it teased and pleased her. Then she placed her other hand on her mound and pressed down, easing her slit open. She smiled as she heard Laurence gasp at the sight, but did not acknowledge him.

Joan spent a few moments pressing the firm end against herself. The dildo’s size was a little uncomfortable at first, but it did not matter. There was no rush and it gave her opportunity to play with it longer and prepare herself for it.

Laurence stared at her slow, tentative guiding of the rude object — big, though lifelike, heavily veined yet unattached to a human body — into her turgid flesh. Her plump, shaved mound seemed to tense as she guided the tip inside. Her hairless flaps clamped around it.

Joan moaned softly as she felt the tip of the big, unyielding object enter her. She enjoyed this moment of penetration as much as the thrusting sensation. She let it slide back out and guided it inside her again. She did this several times and, after the third, she gently slapped it against her lips as she had done before.

Laurence gasped involuntarily again. The sight of the artificial bell end going in and then slipping out again was deliciously lewd, and the sight and sound of her slapping her spongy flesh was unbelievably arousing.

To his shock she raised the dildo slowly to her mouth and slid it between her lips. He knew that she must be able to taste her own juice on the latex. He heard her suck it and saw her cheeks pucker as she did so. He gazed hungrily as she withdrew it, glistening and lubricated with her saliva, and brought it – in her left hand that was adorned with her newly polished wedding ring – to her shaved pussy again.

This time as she pushed it, it slid slowly and gradually inside her. Joan gazed down as it part-disappeared and then re-emerged again from her aroused hole. She kneaded her breast and tugged on her nipple with her other hand, then, to Laurence’s delight, she scooped her orb to her mouth and licked her nipple. Her mouth closed over it and she tugged and chewed on it with her pink-glossed lips.

Laurence stared as she leaned her head back and thrust the dildo slowly but firmly in and out of herself. She whimpered and crooned, relishing the full feeling that the big object gave her. With her other hand she stroked her hood and gently rubbed her clit with little circular movements of her finger.

The rude sight of the big, veined and flesh-coloured dildo entering and leaving her slit was now too much for Laurence. He slid the covers off and slid to his feet. He looked down at his erection. It was nowhere near the size of the dildo, of course, but Laurence doubted that it had ever been quite as big as it was now.

He grabbed the packet of condoms and, fumbling, fitted one over his throbbing end. He knew that Joan was fully conscious of what he was doing, but she gave no sign. He was glad — it would have made him self-conscious and he would have struggled even more to put it on.

He crept towards her. Her head was still angled back, her eyes were still closed, and her pussy was matching the thrusts of the dildo as she rocked it in and out. Much as he respected her, there was no denying that now she looked truly wanton and slutty, still half dressed, her panties pressing against the big dildo as it pleasured her.

Laurence realised that he was shaking a little with indecision. A wave of guilt and self-recrimination washed over him, but his mind was made up.

He grabbed the dildo and wrenched it from her hand. Although she had been half-expecting it, the vigour of it took Joan by surprise.

“Laurence, darlin…” she said, tentatively

Although he usually took a passive role with her, Laurence was reaching fever pitch.

He rubbed the sticky dildo across her lips and stared as her lips parted. He watched her tongie poke out and glide over its sticky end, drawing her own juices from it. His erection was almost painful. He made no attempt to push the dildo, but she leaned forward a little and took the end of it into her mouth. She sucked it noisily, and the sound was lewdly arousing. He watched the rude movement of her cheeks, too, as she sucked on the big, artificial dick.

He pulled it gently from her and dropped it onto the floor. He glanced down at it as it lay, looking obscene and redundant now.

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir