For Mark


This is a true account of events that occurred a few years ago when I was dating Mark; a wonderful man that I’d met at a mutual friend’s wedding in Sydney.

When we met I was twenty-four, a single girl from Adelaide. I had recently graduated from University and was in my first year of teaching. Mark was thirty-two, tall, handsome, well educated, intelligent, witty and well connected. He was an architect – and rich. Unbelievably he was single and available.

He was almost too good to be true and everything my father would have wanted for his only daughter. In fact he may have been “the one” for me, but nature intervened and I realised it could never be.

This is a true story, only Mark is not his real name. When he reads the story I am sure he will know who he is. I hope he doesn’t think too badly of me.

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Through the foggy haze of sleep I felt the sheet slip from my shoulders and slide down over my bare body, coming to rest across the backs of my thighs just below on my firm, tight butt.

The caress of the cool night air on my naked flesh was delightful, but I was mildly annoyed that, as usual, Mark was hogging all the bedclothes.

“Mark!” I hissed softly in sleepy protest.

He stirred briefly, but the only response was the sound of steady, rhythmical breathing coming from his side of the bed.

I opened my eyes and in the soft glow of the full moon saw him lying on his back, sound asleep.

Behind me the bedroom window of our apartment was open and the warm tropical breeze stirred the curtains casting shadows on the opposite wall, the images resembling lovers performing some erotic, sensuous ritual.

Mark hadn’t actually stolen the bedclothes; rather, in his sleep he had pushed them to the end of the bed leaving him uncovered and me with the sheet just below my waist. Like me he was naked.

I watched him as he slept, taking the opportunity to admire his naked body. He was one hundred ninety three centimetres tall, weighed around one hundred and ten kilograms and had the build of an elite athlete. Through his mid to late twenties he had represented Victoria at the National Rowing Championships, only just missing out on a place in our Olympic Team for the games in Sydney in 2000. Even now at thirty-two he still rowed competitively, although not at the elite level. He trained regularly and worked out in the gym and it showed. He was lean; there was hardly an ounce of fat on him. He was exactly how he appeared, strong, muscular and very fit.

Compared to him I am tiny, although for a woman I’m above average height. I’m one hundred and sixty eight centimetres tall, weigh fifty-two kilograms and next to him my slim body looked fragile and almost childlike. Not that I minded, in fact it was something that appealed to me and I enjoyed it when he was by my side. When he took me in his arms and held me, his wide shoulders, broad chest and strong arms totally engulfed me and made me feel safe and secure. It was a nice feeling and one that I will never forget.

As he slept, his chest rose and fell and his hard, flat stomach seemed to ripple with each breath. Lying flat against his stomach was his uncircumcised penis. Even soft and limp it was quite big. He had recently allowed me to shave his pubic hair to match my own bald pussy, and it made his cock and balls appear even larger and more prominent.

The dull ache between my legs reminded me of how only an hour or so earlier that same cock had been hard and erect and buried deep inside me. Erect it was big – not exactly huge, but very thick, and long enough to stretch and fill me completely. It was a nice feeling having him inside me, pounding my cunt.

Fucking him was good. I loved the way he reacted when I contracted the muscles in my vagina, squeezing him – and when he came, I especially liked that. His body would tense and he would stop breathing. In the instant before he ejaculated, I swear I could feel his cock swell inside me – maybe it was just my imagination, but I would squeeze again, hard, as hard as I could. Then he would withdraw for the final time – I could tell it was the final time, as he would ram his cock deep into my cunt then let out a roar like a wounded lion and fill me with his cum. I could feel it spurting into me, drenching me, flooding me, filling me and overflowing. Afterwards I hold him and wait. Wait while his pounding heart slowed, his ragged breathing returned to something closer to normal and I felt his penis begin to shrink inside me. Oh yes I did like that.

With these pleasant thoughts I reached down and grabbed the edge of the sheet, pulled it over my back, up to my shoulders and settled down to go back to sleep.

As I drifted towards unconsciousness I thought back to the time we first met. It had been about six months before in Casibom Sydney at David and Fiona’s wedding. We were the only two singles there and at the reception he had swept me off my feet, and we’d been dating ever since.

Mark and David had been friends since they were children living next door to each other in South Toorak, one of Melbourne’s more affluent suburbs, and I had met David later when he’d moved to Adelaide to study Law at University.

After graduating, David had gone to live in Sydney to work with a law firm in the city where he met Fiona who was a graphic designer. After a short courtship they had become engaged, and just a few months later surprised us all by getting married.

The wedding was beautiful. There were only about thirty guests, but what it lacked in size it made up for in style. It was in January and the day was warm and sunny, the setting in a private garden at Potts Point was perfect and the bride was beautiful. Fiona had chosen a simple, white, sleeveless dress that accentuated her slim figure and highlighted her golden tan and thick shoulder-length blonde hair. It was like the scene out of a movie, and after the ceremony the fantasy continued as all the guests were taken by limousine to the Sydney Harbour for a twilight cruise.

As we boarded the boat we were served French Champagne in chilled glasses that were coated on the outside with frosty condensation. Occasionally, tiny droplets formed and ran down the side of the glass, leaving a clear streak then running down the stem and across the base before falling with a gentle splash to the deck.

As we all chatted and sipped our champagne, the bride and groom were away having photographs taken on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, at The Rocks and underneath Sydney Harbour Bridge. The sun was low in the western sky that was starting to take on an orange hue, a prelude to setting of the sun and made a perfect setting. I’ve seen the photos since, and they are truly the most gorgeous wedding photos I have ever seen.

I was the out-of-town girl at the wedding, the only one from Adelaide and, I thought, the only one there without a partner. As far as I knew everyone else was a Sydney friend of David and Fiona.

To keep it simple and to save people the expense of travelling long distances, they had decided to get married in Sydney and were going to repeat the ceremony and have another celebration the following week in Melbourne, where both their families and most of David’s friends lived.

As I stood making small talk with a group of guests, I noticed a guy standing on his own by the railing at the opposite side of the boat. I hadn’t seen him at the wedding, but he must have been there somewhere. I don’t know how I could have missed him because he was very striking, tall, well built and handsome.

He was holding a glass of wine that he sipped occasionally and he was looking at me. He caught my eye and held my gaze. He smiled, raised his glass in silent greeting before taking another sip, and then he turned away to lean on the rail, apparently gazing out over the shimmering water of Australia’s most famous and beautiful harbour.

From behind he was simply magnificent. His broad shoulders and strong muscular back filled his tailored suit jacket to its limits. His bum was small and tight yet it completely filled his trousers so that the material was stretched tight and smooth across his perfect butt.

As I watched him he seemed a little awkward and perhaps a bit uneasy, as though uncomfortable and constrained to be wearing a suit and tie. I imagined perhaps he would be more at home in a t-shirt and board shorts, and smiled to myself at the thought of him dressed far more casually, or perhaps not at all.

I walked over and stood beside him, not saying anything, just standing next to him, sharing and enjoying the view and the fantastic Champagne.

He turned towards me, smiled and said simply, “Hi. Beautiful isn’t it?”

He turned back to look out across the harbour and I had a chance to look at him close up for the first time. He was tall with dark curly hair and the build and relaxed stance of an elite athlete. He was handsome in a rugged, masculine way, with strong features and his eyes were bright blue, soft, yet intelligent and strong. They were the first thing that I’d noticed when I’d seen him across the other side of the boat, and I noticed them again briefly when he had turned to speak to me. They flashed and sparkle and I think they were what had drawn me to him in the first instance. I couldn’t wait for him to look at me so that I could see them again.

“Yes,” I replied. “It is magnificent.”

With those few words it started. From that moment we were inseparable and spent the entire evening together. He was a witty and entertaining companion and as the evening progressed I found myself succumbing to his charm. I discovered that he lived in Melbourne, was thirty-two, worked as an architect and had made a lot of money through Casibom Giriş property investment and development. He had married in his early twenties, but the marriage hadn’t lasted long and since then he’d remained a very committed, even if a very eligible, bachelor.

He had come up to the wedding in Sydney because he had business there and had another previous commitment that prevented him from going to the re-enactment the following Saturday in Melbourne.

Looking back at it now, I can see that the other guests at the reception probably thought we were quite rude as we spent all the evening talking to each other to the exclusion of everyone else. For us that night it was if no one else existed.

After the reception we went to a bar for drinks, and before I knew it we were walking in back to my hotel hand in hand as the sun was beginning to rise in the eastern sky. He kissed me and we said our good nights, or more correctly good mornings, and I went to bed for a few hours sleep but not before agreeing to cancel my flight back to Adelaide the next day so that we could spend more time together.

That day and night passed quickly. We had lunch at Darling Harbour, took the ferry to Manly and walked hand in hand along the beach, around the point to Freshwater and swam in the pool at his hotel. That afternoon we made love in his room. In the evening we dined at one of Sydney’s finest restaurants then made love again – three times. Once in his room, then later in the hotel spa and finally out on the balcony in the moonlight. We collapsed into bed about five in the morning, exhausted but very happy, and slept until around ten the next day when we did it again, this time more slowly and with less urgency.

It was the first time I had made love to a man since I was eighteen and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. My first and only other experience with a guy was just after I finished high school and it was not all that pleasant. Since then my only partners had been female and I had been starting to think I was a committed lesbian – but well, maybe not after all.

Since the wedding and that wonderful weekend in Sydney we had been taking it in turns to visit each other every weekend and things were getting serious. I was even contemplating moving to Melbourne to live so that we could be closer and would not have the inconvenience and expense of travelling every weekend. Shit! Commitment and maybe even marriage were somewhere on the horizon. It was all quite scary.

Unfortunately there were not many opportunities to see David and Fiona after the wedding, and when they suggested we join them in Port Douglas, in tropical north Queensland, for a week’s holiday we both jumped at the chance. We arranged it for a time in the school holidays, and after many weeks of anticipation we were finally there.

We were staying in a two-bedroom apartment. Mark and I had one of the bedrooms and David and Fiona the other. At first I was a bit doubtful about sharing, but as the week progressed, so did our friendship and we had a wonderful time.

We had been there for six days and it was our last day. Sadly we were all booked on flights to go home the following day. The weather had been perfect all week and that day was no exception. It was great to get away from the cold Adelaide winter and to be in the sun again, and it was great to be able to spend some time with Fiona and David and in particular to get to know Fiona better.

Just before I had fallen asleep I recalled the events of the day. We had taken a cruise to the Great Barrier Reef and spent the day sun baking, swimming, snorkelling and scuba diving. When we got back the four of us had gone out to dinner at a well-known restaurant in Port Douglas to celebrate our last night together. We dined outside under huge canvas sails and ate the most magnificent seafood while the warm tropical rain drummed gently on the roof above us. It was the perfect ending to a fabulous week.

Afterwards, back in our hotel, Mark and I made love. We were both very horny and as soon as we got inside the door we fucked. Usually he was a great lover but that night the sex was disappointing. There was no foreplay; I certainly didn’t need it, as I was wet and ready for him. In some ways the whole day had been one long extended session of foreplay.

On the boat and out at the Reef we had been flirting and touching each other, and at one stage while we were snorkelling, Mark had swum up to me in the water, pulled my bikini bottoms aside and fingered me. As we struggled playfully in the water, he undid and pulled off my bikini top then, much to the delight of the others, swam back to the boat and with some ridiculous ceremony presented it to Fiona who had been sitting on the deck watching.

I was not at all embarrassed and in fact enjoyed displaying my naked breasts to the twenty or so people who were on the boat watching. I loved the feeling of the water on my breasts and was aroused by being exposed and the attention Casibom Güncel Giriş that drew from the spectators. I was enjoying myself and was in no hurry for it to end, but after a short while I started to get tired. I swam to the side of the boat, climbed the ladder and, accompanied by a small round of applause and a few whistles; I walked over to Fiona to retrieve my top.

Not wanting to be left out of the action, Fiona insisted that she was going to put it on me herself. She made me turn around to face the crowd then stepped up behind me, placed the bikini on my breasts, giving them a small discreet squeeze in the process and then with a flourish retied the straps.

There was more applause from the spectators. I bowed to the appreciative crowd and as I moved to walk away, Fiona put her arms around me, pulled me close and whispered so that only I could hear.

“Very sexy honey, I could just eat you at the moment.”

She released me, gave me a gentle push and a small pat on the bum as I walked away. I glanced back at her, she smiled, winked and I was sure I saw her tongue dart out briefly and run slowly across her full, sensuous lips.

Then it was all over. I had loved the attention and thoroughly enjoyed the public display of affection and mild exhibitionism. As I walked back to where Mark was standing, smirking with a very satisfied look on his face, I noticed dampness between my legs and knew it wasn’t entirely due to having just been swimming. I was wet and I could feel my pussy lips rubbing together, slippery with my own juices.

As I stood and talked to Mark, I looked across at Fiona. It was probably the first time that I had really noticed how attractive and sexy she was. She was quite tall – maybe a centimetre or two taller than me – very attractive, with a slim, curvy figure, thick, shoulder-length blonde hair and a great tan. She was wearing a very brief, light blue, halter neck bikini. Unlike me she had large firm breasts, generous hips and a narrow waist, and she attracted the attention of almost every guy on the boat. Young or old they all stopped to look when she walked past, and I noticed that some who were sitting with their wives or girlfriends were discreetly perving on her, although others were not so discreet and just blatantly stared. I have quite small breasts, a narrow waist, and a flat belly, narrow hips and a small tight butt. I am pretty well straight up and down, and compared to her I must have looked like a skinny young girl, especially with my hair wet and no make up.

Eventually the day came to an end. With everyone on board, the crew weighed anchor and we set off on the hour or so journey back to Port Douglas. On the return journey the guys stood at the back of the boat watching the reef fade gradually into the distance, while Fiona and I sat together in the bow with the breeze in our faces chatting and watching the sun set on the horizon ahead.

We were like a couple of teenagers and mostly we talked about sex. I really did not know her all that well, having only met her for the first time at their wedding, but I found myself telling her the most intimate details about my sex life. I heard myself talking about sex with Mark and also about my previous relationships and sex with Anna and Carol. In turn she told be about sex with David and about some of her fantasies. She confessed that when she had first met Mark she fantasised about having sex with him, and that sometimes when David was fucking her she fantasised about another woman joining them in a threesome.

Our conversation and sitting close to her on the boat was getting me very aroused. At one point she moved and our thighs touched. I thought it was accidental but she made no effort to move away and I enjoyed the warmth and the sensation of her smooth skin against my own. Later she put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to whisper something, and as she did, her lips briefly brushed my ear. Each time she touched me I felt small surges of pleasure course like electricity through my body going straight to my loins, causing a tingling sensation that made me want to squirm.

Later at the restaurant I could sense a tension between us. When we finished and said goodnight we kissed, but there was nothing unusual about that except this time her kiss lingered for just a bit longer than usual and I felt her tongue snake out between her lips and gently caress my cheek. As we moved apart, her hand brushed my breast and she smiled at me. It was a smile that clearly said more than simply good night and I was a little embarrassed and confused. As I walked away with Mark, I raised my hand to my cheek to wipe away the telltale patch of moisture in case he might see it there and I didn’t want to have to try to explain.

Fuck, I needed Mark to screw me. I was so hot and needed to come badly. The second we got back to our apartment and were in our bedroom I had him up against the wall, tearing at his clothes. In no time we were both naked and he turned me around to face him, picked me up, pushed me back against the wall, lifted me up and slid his hard cock into me. His arms were hooked under my knees, my feet were off the ground and I was impaled on his manhood. He was fucking me but I needed more.