Bree 1 Kate
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Understanding Kate free porn video
I know, that looking back, there is no excuse for my actions. But I have been thinking about Kate for almost five years to the day and there was something about her that bothered me. It kept niggling at the edges of my conscious mind and I had to do something about it.
Kate and I dated about five years ago. We were both around forty-five years old at the time. It was an on and off relationship that lasted for about five months; though I fancied the pants off her on the first date. Kate’s breasts were just the right size and I loved them. She was voluptuous, definitely not the slim type, but then, I didn’t go for the skinny type anyway. She was tall, but just under my height. She had an adorable Scottish accent and I loved the way she talked and laughed. She was intoxicating and I was looking forward to getting inside her knickers, that is, if I got that far.
Our first few dates resembled the type that teenagers' experience, which with our advancing years, brought a smile to my face every time. We always met at a pub or bar or the occasional restaurant halfway between our respective houses. We chatted and laughed a lot, and exchanged the obligatory sexual innuendo every now and then. Sometimes, our conversations got heavy. Eventually, even in new relationships, you get to the point where you have to know about all the past relationships. How they went? Who finished with whom? The usual stuff.
I came to the conclusion pretty early on, rightly or wrongly, that Kate was a little naïve as far as relationships went. She had one failed marriage, no children and a sketchy sex life, to say the least. I, on the other hand, had just come out of a relationship with a swinging lifestyle but was not eager to get back into it. I was looking for someone that was normal and I thought Kate fitted my conceptualisation of normality.
On the first few dates, we would often walk to our cars and decide whether another date was in order. Eventually, we exchange a few kisses before leaving each other with a firm date in the calendar. I loved placing my hands on her waist and tried every trick in the book to cop a feel of her gorgeous breasts. Even a glancing blow would have been enough, but she seemed to know what I was up to all the time and always managed to stop me with a well-placed hand on my arm and a knowing smile on her face. We managed to fit in some very memorable dates and it’s always good to know that someone wants to meet with you again, perhaps take things further. My type of further, however, was a long way off in Kate’s mind.
I would have been happy to fuck her brains out on the first date. I would have been in my element with my hands fondling her large dangling breasts as they bounced beneath her with my cock pounded her from behind. Unfortunately, I seemed to masturbate to that scenario more and more as time went on and it had to wait quite a while before it became a reality.
Our later dates confused me. They consisted of us having a drink or two in a pub, even though we both had to drive. We used to leave the pub for the comfort of one of our cars where we sat together in the front seat and chatted some more. The talking turned to kissing, the kissing to fondling. It was strange and surreal, to say the least.
Kate did allow herself to feel my growing cock over my trousers, but she giggled while doing it and would not reach inside at all. Her whole demeanour was almost girlish. She would allow me to do the same to her, but again, I was not allowed to reach inside her jeans and fondle her pussy through her panties. She would often close her eyes while panting and shake her head left and right. Then, without warning, she would bring herself back to her senses swiftly and tell me that we shouldn’t be doing it.
I was allowed to feel her breasts under her jumper but over her bra. Make no mistake about it, every aspect of our time together perfectly described a teenager's typical first attempts at dating. The talking, the finding out about each other, the fumbling in the car afterwards, the leaving each other intact to drive each other home, on our own, in separate cars. At forty-five years of age, I thought those days were long gone. Whatever happened to, ‘let’s go back to my place and fuck – shall we?’
Kate and I behaved like this for far too long. But I was smitten with her and I wanted her. I was prepared to put up with all her foibles. The more we explored each other in the pub car parks, the more I began to think that it was the risk of being caught that was turning her on and not the fondling. I began to think that she was getting a sexual rush from the whole scenario; as if she was wishing someone would come out of the pub and catch us. On one occasion they did, it was giggles all around the car; complete with pulling her jumper down and glancing behind until the person had left in their own car.
I didn’t understand Kate at all. I have to admit it. In other relationships, I would be licking pussy within two or three dates minimum. The women would generally have been intrigued enough to want to know whether my tongue was actually that good. For the record, it is.
Kate didn’t seem all that bothered about my tongue, or cock for that matter. At one point, I even wondered whether she was transsexual, which may have explained her shyness at exposing herself fully to me. I parked that thought as all her other aspects didn’t bear it out.
Our relationship did eventually become more normal. We did eventually stay with each other on weekends. I think it was me that suggested she come down to mine and stay over on the Friday night. She agreed. I thought it was the start of something beautiful between us; even though questions of doubt had been pouring into my mind.
Our first night together was heavenly. I loved sucking on her nipples and we finally had sex, and yes, her tits dangled wonderfully against the bed as I fucked her from behind. It was a little raw and unrehearsed, another teenage fumbling attempt, if I am honest, but we slept together and we awoke together.
We continued in this way for some time; staying over at the others during weekends and occasionally on the odd night in the week. Kate was introduced to my friends and they loved her. At the time I did not find it strange that I was not introduced to hers. She always kept telling me that she never had anyone that was that close to her.
Uncertainty in our relationship started to take effect, cracks appeared through which doubt started to illuminate the life we shared. It was normally Kate that instigated it. The words, ‘I’m not sure it’s what I want,’ were to echo through my mind every time she sighed or told me that there was something she needed to say. Maybe she was scared of having a relationship, and that staying with one person for a long period of time was not something she could do; at least that would explain her current status of single at her age, and for so long. Maybe I was not the one for her? Maybe I was too nice? or just not her type. Maybe she just needed her own space.
I tried to understand her, but every time I failed. Towards the end, we used to split up once, sometimes twice a month. During the week after a split, it was normally Kate that phoned me to see if I was free to meet up. She always confessed that she missed me and that she wanted to see me; to go out for a meal, or the cinema, or just out for the day. Every time we would slip back into the staying over routine and every time she would get second thoughts leading to us splitting up again.
At one point during our togetherness, I encouraged her to strip to her bra, knickers and stockings, put on a coat and go to the pub. She giggled throughout the role play and told me how naughty it was. And what would happen if she got caught? Yet I loved her childlike attitude when she acted like that.
While we were out, we stood by the bar and we ordered a drink and chatted. She was looking around the room all the time at the people sitting in chairs having their normal evening conversations. I am convinced that knowing she was naked underneath the coat excited her. When we left the bar, we walked through a park and once more, I encouraged her to undo her coat and open it for me. She did open it, but not without a significant amount of encouragement on my part. She would insist that it was improper, and worried about being caught. I watched, mesmerised, as Kate, virtually naked underneath the coat, behaved like a teenager exposing herself and flashing in public for the very first time.
Kate acted in a rambunctious manner, giggling all the time. It was these moments that made me think of her as naïve even immature for her age. It was also these moments that made me love her. Like a new toy, I couldn’t put her down. I firmly believe that Kate was playing a game and I had to play along with her. I couldn’t help myself.
On one fateful night, Kate decided to finish with me yet again! We were out having a drink, it was close to her birthday and I had bought her a present which I gave to her in a pub. Moments afterwards, came the words that I so much dreaded. “I don’t know about this, we need to have a talk,” she said.
I knew what was coming.
We chatted and she told me, once more, that she didn’t know what she wanted. We eventually left the pub and walked to my car. On this particular occasion, we only took the one car, so I was obliged to drive her home. After walking through the empty car park, we got in the car and she talked about her reasons for being unsure. Then she leant over towards me and she asked whether she could suck me off, one last time. I didn’t believe what I was hearing at first. I was a little surprised at her intentions, and I just laughed at her.
Kate proceeded to unbutton my trousers, unzip my fly and take my hardening cock out of my jeans while she dropped her head in the direction of my lap. Her mouth sank down on it with gusto. I looked out from the windscreen at the passing cars on the main road. The blue flashing light of a police car didn’t go unnoticed and I am convinced, when that happened, I lost a little hardness. Kate never let up once. She sucked me until I spurted down her throat.
Just after I came, I looked to my right and saw the staff emptying from the pub, but they didn’t walk towards us. While Kate was drinking my spunk, two cars passed us and they pulled into the car park to pick up the people who had just left the pub. Maybe that’s why Kate suggested it. The openness of the situation, the fact that we could get caught doing it in my car. It had crossed my mind that she planned the whole thing; the depression I felt at being dumped again, the empty car park, the blow job and the pleasure that brought, the people and cars and then those final words of hers, ‘that was naughty!’
I drove back to Kate’s in a fit of anger, contemplating all the way and I rarely spoke to her for the whole journey. That was the night, and with the deepest sadness, that I told Kate, “no more.” I couldn’t go on with this type of relationship. It had to stop.
That was until we were both invited to the same party by one of my friends. I ended up taking Kate back to mine as it was much closer; she could drive all the way home in the morning. She giggled as she entered my house. I told her she could have the spare room and she just nodded, but we ended up going to bed at roughly the same time. I left her on the landing area and went to my room. I could hear the tap running in the bathroom, then a knock on my door. I answered it in my dressing gown. Kate pulled me towards the bathroom. She was semi-naked and panting with desire, her lips were moist as she pulled me in close and kissed me. Without warning she pushed me away with the words, ‘we shouldn’t.’
I was not surprised. I twisted her around and pushed her up against the bathroom wall and looked at her face as it almost touched the mirror. I pulled her bra up and pushed my hands up onto her breasts. With her tits exposed, I fondled and squeezed her nipples. I pushed her harder into the wall with Kate moaning and denying the situation all the time.
Her words, ‘we mustn’t do this, it’s wrong,’ fell on stony ground. I pushed her knickers to one side and spread her legs in one, easy, motion. I pushed my cock into her. I fucked her while fondling her breasts until she came, gasping on the mirror in front of her.
We did sleep together that night but in the morning, after breakfast, I reiterated that it was the end and that we would not see each other again. I promised myself that it would be the last time.
This time I kept my word despite her attempts at phoning me and trying to get me to meet her at a half way public house. I said no, and meant it. Even one of my friends bumped into her a month later and told me that she was asking after me. I had to smile.
Ever since then, I have analysed every moment of our time together. I pored over her actions, words, responses and attitude. I analysed everything. Over the years that have passed, I came to the conclusion that Kate was perhaps submissive by nature. Yet she revelled in being caught out, and the act of public sex excited her. Her attitude at going nude underneath that coat was nothing but excitement at her own actions and nothing to do with shyness or the fact that she acted in a ‘naughty’ way.
When she got fucked from behind, that night at my place, she loved every minute of it; yet the only words she said were those of denial; she kept saying that we shouldn’t have done it and that it was ‘naughty’. As she breathed heavily against the mirror with her hands splayed onto the wall in front of her, her body language said anything but denial.
Kate wanted to be taken, used, fucked, forced to have sex but not in a way that resembled rape, far from it. Kate loved being used, and the act of being used and caught out was even higher on her to-do list.
It has taken me five years to become convinced of these astounding facts. That is, if they are factual.
oOo
Which is why I am here, drinking coffee in a café, on the street where Kate lives. I have been here for the last three Saturday’s in a row hoping to bump into her. I have to find out if I am right. I have to know Kate, if it’s the last thing I do. More to the point, I have to know whether it was my fault for being too nice to Kate, for not being the person she wanted me to be. If I am right, then I wish she had just told me.
Having put down the daily newspaper I acknowledge the woman entering the coffee shop.
“Kate! Is that you?”
I knew full well that it was.
“Michael?”
“Yes, I was passing by and popped in for a coffee, fancy bumping into you?”
“What a coincidence,” she reiterated.
“Would you like to join me?” I motioned to the comfy leather seat opposite me.
Kate nodded, she dropped her bag on the chair and ordered a coffee before joining me for a chat.
We caught up on the last five years, quite by ease. I discovered that she was still single, what a surprise that was! I gathered that she had a few relationships after we parted and that she still worked for the same company, in the same place and with the same people.
The conversation then turned to me. I was deliberately cagey. I avoided the “M” word and I pretended to be single but just out of a relationship. At one point in the conversation, we even exchanged mobile numbers, though I am not sure why I did this. Our conversation was casual up to the point where Kate asked me the real reason why I was in this particular café at this particular time. It brought a huge grin to my face; and the famous scene from Casablanca to my mind.
I could have said anything from, ‘I missed you,’ or, ‘I wondered how you were getting on,’ anything would have sufficed. Instead, I looked her in the eye and smiled.
I think it disturbed her a little. She leant back in the chair and pursed her lips. I leant forward a little so that she could hear my whispered words.
“I keep thinking about you, and how I may have missed the point of what you were looking for when we were together? All those times you seemed to like me and then let me down. I now think I know why!”
Kate smiled at me. She too leant forward in her seat. “Are you going to tell me?”
I paused. “I think you just like to be used. Fucked like a toy doll, and just – used.”
Kate pursed her lips and smiled at me. I noticed the glint in her eye.
“But,” I added, “You have been too shy to let anyone know what you want from them, too shy to ask perhaps. Too uncertain of what people would think of you. Too afraid to be honest, even with yourself.”
Kate just stared back at me and then a finger appeared at her lips. A smile developed and spread across her face, “Perhaps!”
I nodded to myself as I looked deep into her eyes. I knew I was right.
I sipped my coffee, finishing it off. Kate reached down for her coffee but I grabbed her hand. Kate looked up at me, “later,” I said, as her eyes darted across my face, “you’re coming with me.”
I pulled Kate up from the chair. The seat slipped backwards making a brief screeching sound. A few people looked around at us and Kate barely had time to grab her bag as we left the coffee shop. We only had about fifty yards to walk to her house. I presumed that she still lived in the same place. I half-pulled her, half walked with her to the front door.
“Open it,” I ordered.
Kate looked at me in disbelief. A little out of breath, she placed the key in the lock and pushed the door open. I ushered her inside and through the middle door into the lounge. Kate dropped her bag on the floor on the way into her house and I manhandled her up against the wall of the lounge; reaching in front of her to unbutton her coat and strip her of it before she reached the wall. I pushed her against the wall with one hand as I threw her coat across the floor.
“You can’t come in here and treat me like this,” she insisted, “now fuck off.”
“I will do exactly as you want me to do,” I informed her, at the same time as putting my hands up her jumper and pushing her bra up and over her breasts just like the last time. Her tits bounced free inside the woollen material.
“This is wrong,” insisted Kate, “Stop it. You shouldn’t touch me like this.”
I lifted Kate’s dress up to her waist. I literally ripped her knickers from her body as I pressed into her. I spread her legs and paused while I undid my trousers to release my hard and erect cock.
“If it’s so wrong,” I hissed into her ear, “then why are you letting me rip your knickers off?”
I placed my hands on her soft flesh underneath her jumper. “Look out there, Kate, look at all those people that can see through your window. All those people that can see you about to get fucked.”
Kate looked to her right as I spread her legs a little more. I saw her eyes close. I saw a wry smile spread across her face. I heard her inhale sharply and then gasp aloud.
“I’ve been thinking, Kate, all those years ago, whether I chose the wrong hole to fuck you in.”
I heard her gasp out loud one more time. “No, not there!”
“I think so, don’t you?”
Kate genuinely struggled for a short while as my cock lubricated itself against her soaking wet pussy.
“Not my arse, please, not my arse,” her pleading was useless, “What will people think?”
I eventually pushed my cock into her anus. It sank all the way in, in one easy go.
I fucked Kate as fast as I could. My hands mauled at her breasts and tweaked her nipples in turn while my whole body pinned her to the wall. I cupped her swinging breasts and squeezed on them. My cock engorged itself inside her bum and I fucked her hard.
Kate’s hands had spread against the wall and slightly elevated above her head.
“Look at all those people out there, I’m sure they could hear you if you scream.”
I knew I really shouldn’t have given her any more reason to get turned on, but I did.
Kate cried out loud, “Fuck me, you bastard!” She shouted.
At the point of cumming inside Kate, I pulled down on her hair and thrust my cock high inside her arse in a state of animalistic urgency; her own orgasm then took over her body, vocal chords and mind. Each spurt of cum was accompanied with a slight pull on her hair and accompanied with a barely audible groan from her lips. After emptying my balls, I pulled out of Kate and stepped back from her. She buckled and fell, kneeling on the floor and shivering in post orgasmic bliss. Panting like the beautiful slut that she was. One hand stopped her body from falling against the wall.
I pulled my trousers up and made myself decent. I pulled lightly on her hair so that I could see her face and thanked her for the pleasure.
“I’m going now,” I told her, “that was the last time Kate...”
I left Kate’s house for the very last time, and I mean that most sincerely.
I think I finally know who Kate is. I feel elated that I was right after analysing it all those years, and realise that I wasn’t going mad. I have to admit it, but I wish I had known all those years ago. I wish I had put two and two together and came up with five. I could have been the person Kate wanted me to be, the person that Kate needed in her life. There are some things in life that you just cannot prepare for, and I guess I was just too naïve myself, at the time.
I stopped just short of my car. My mobile phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at the text message, ‘That was so fucking good, it won’t be the last time, not now – trust me!’
I stared at my phone for a very long minute before looking up. A couple, holding hands, passed just behind me. I watched as he slipped his hand around her waist and kissed her. I watched them as they moved closer towards Kate’s house. I opened the car, hesitant and uncertain that I would actually drive away.
Kate and I dated about five years ago. We were both around forty-five years old at the time. It was an on and off relationship that lasted for about five months; though I fancied the pants off her on the first date. Kate’s breasts were just the right size and I loved them. She was voluptuous, definitely not the slim type, but then, I didn’t go for the skinny type anyway. She was tall, but just under my height. She had an adorable Scottish accent and I loved the way she talked and laughed. She was intoxicating and I was looking forward to getting inside her knickers, that is, if I got that far.
Our first few dates resembled the type that teenagers' experience, which with our advancing years, brought a smile to my face every time. We always met at a pub or bar or the occasional restaurant halfway between our respective houses. We chatted and laughed a lot, and exchanged the obligatory sexual innuendo every now and then. Sometimes, our conversations got heavy. Eventually, even in new relationships, you get to the point where you have to know about all the past relationships. How they went? Who finished with whom? The usual stuff.
I came to the conclusion pretty early on, rightly or wrongly, that Kate was a little naïve as far as relationships went. She had one failed marriage, no children and a sketchy sex life, to say the least. I, on the other hand, had just come out of a relationship with a swinging lifestyle but was not eager to get back into it. I was looking for someone that was normal and I thought Kate fitted my conceptualisation of normality.
On the first few dates, we would often walk to our cars and decide whether another date was in order. Eventually, we exchange a few kisses before leaving each other with a firm date in the calendar. I loved placing my hands on her waist and tried every trick in the book to cop a feel of her gorgeous breasts. Even a glancing blow would have been enough, but she seemed to know what I was up to all the time and always managed to stop me with a well-placed hand on my arm and a knowing smile on her face. We managed to fit in some very memorable dates and it’s always good to know that someone wants to meet with you again, perhaps take things further. My type of further, however, was a long way off in Kate’s mind.
I would have been happy to fuck her brains out on the first date. I would have been in my element with my hands fondling her large dangling breasts as they bounced beneath her with my cock pounded her from behind. Unfortunately, I seemed to masturbate to that scenario more and more as time went on and it had to wait quite a while before it became a reality.
Our later dates confused me. They consisted of us having a drink or two in a pub, even though we both had to drive. We used to leave the pub for the comfort of one of our cars where we sat together in the front seat and chatted some more. The talking turned to kissing, the kissing to fondling. It was strange and surreal, to say the least.
Kate did allow herself to feel my growing cock over my trousers, but she giggled while doing it and would not reach inside at all. Her whole demeanour was almost girlish. She would allow me to do the same to her, but again, I was not allowed to reach inside her jeans and fondle her pussy through her panties. She would often close her eyes while panting and shake her head left and right. Then, without warning, she would bring herself back to her senses swiftly and tell me that we shouldn’t be doing it.
I was allowed to feel her breasts under her jumper but over her bra. Make no mistake about it, every aspect of our time together perfectly described a teenager's typical first attempts at dating. The talking, the finding out about each other, the fumbling in the car afterwards, the leaving each other intact to drive each other home, on our own, in separate cars. At forty-five years of age, I thought those days were long gone. Whatever happened to, ‘let’s go back to my place and fuck – shall we?’
Kate and I behaved like this for far too long. But I was smitten with her and I wanted her. I was prepared to put up with all her foibles. The more we explored each other in the pub car parks, the more I began to think that it was the risk of being caught that was turning her on and not the fondling. I began to think that she was getting a sexual rush from the whole scenario; as if she was wishing someone would come out of the pub and catch us. On one occasion they did, it was giggles all around the car; complete with pulling her jumper down and glancing behind until the person had left in their own car.
I didn’t understand Kate at all. I have to admit it. In other relationships, I would be licking pussy within two or three dates minimum. The women would generally have been intrigued enough to want to know whether my tongue was actually that good. For the record, it is.
Kate didn’t seem all that bothered about my tongue, or cock for that matter. At one point, I even wondered whether she was transsexual, which may have explained her shyness at exposing herself fully to me. I parked that thought as all her other aspects didn’t bear it out.
Our relationship did eventually become more normal. We did eventually stay with each other on weekends. I think it was me that suggested she come down to mine and stay over on the Friday night. She agreed. I thought it was the start of something beautiful between us; even though questions of doubt had been pouring into my mind.
Our first night together was heavenly. I loved sucking on her nipples and we finally had sex, and yes, her tits dangled wonderfully against the bed as I fucked her from behind. It was a little raw and unrehearsed, another teenage fumbling attempt, if I am honest, but we slept together and we awoke together.
We continued in this way for some time; staying over at the others during weekends and occasionally on the odd night in the week. Kate was introduced to my friends and they loved her. At the time I did not find it strange that I was not introduced to hers. She always kept telling me that she never had anyone that was that close to her.
Uncertainty in our relationship started to take effect, cracks appeared through which doubt started to illuminate the life we shared. It was normally Kate that instigated it. The words, ‘I’m not sure it’s what I want,’ were to echo through my mind every time she sighed or told me that there was something she needed to say. Maybe she was scared of having a relationship, and that staying with one person for a long period of time was not something she could do; at least that would explain her current status of single at her age, and for so long. Maybe I was not the one for her? Maybe I was too nice? or just not her type. Maybe she just needed her own space.
I tried to understand her, but every time I failed. Towards the end, we used to split up once, sometimes twice a month. During the week after a split, it was normally Kate that phoned me to see if I was free to meet up. She always confessed that she missed me and that she wanted to see me; to go out for a meal, or the cinema, or just out for the day. Every time we would slip back into the staying over routine and every time she would get second thoughts leading to us splitting up again.
At one point during our togetherness, I encouraged her to strip to her bra, knickers and stockings, put on a coat and go to the pub. She giggled throughout the role play and told me how naughty it was. And what would happen if she got caught? Yet I loved her childlike attitude when she acted like that.
While we were out, we stood by the bar and we ordered a drink and chatted. She was looking around the room all the time at the people sitting in chairs having their normal evening conversations. I am convinced that knowing she was naked underneath the coat excited her. When we left the bar, we walked through a park and once more, I encouraged her to undo her coat and open it for me. She did open it, but not without a significant amount of encouragement on my part. She would insist that it was improper, and worried about being caught. I watched, mesmerised, as Kate, virtually naked underneath the coat, behaved like a teenager exposing herself and flashing in public for the very first time.
Kate acted in a rambunctious manner, giggling all the time. It was these moments that made me think of her as naïve even immature for her age. It was also these moments that made me love her. Like a new toy, I couldn’t put her down. I firmly believe that Kate was playing a game and I had to play along with her. I couldn’t help myself.
On one fateful night, Kate decided to finish with me yet again! We were out having a drink, it was close to her birthday and I had bought her a present which I gave to her in a pub. Moments afterwards, came the words that I so much dreaded. “I don’t know about this, we need to have a talk,” she said.
I knew what was coming.
We chatted and she told me, once more, that she didn’t know what she wanted. We eventually left the pub and walked to my car. On this particular occasion, we only took the one car, so I was obliged to drive her home. After walking through the empty car park, we got in the car and she talked about her reasons for being unsure. Then she leant over towards me and she asked whether she could suck me off, one last time. I didn’t believe what I was hearing at first. I was a little surprised at her intentions, and I just laughed at her.
Kate proceeded to unbutton my trousers, unzip my fly and take my hardening cock out of my jeans while she dropped her head in the direction of my lap. Her mouth sank down on it with gusto. I looked out from the windscreen at the passing cars on the main road. The blue flashing light of a police car didn’t go unnoticed and I am convinced, when that happened, I lost a little hardness. Kate never let up once. She sucked me until I spurted down her throat.
Just after I came, I looked to my right and saw the staff emptying from the pub, but they didn’t walk towards us. While Kate was drinking my spunk, two cars passed us and they pulled into the car park to pick up the people who had just left the pub. Maybe that’s why Kate suggested it. The openness of the situation, the fact that we could get caught doing it in my car. It had crossed my mind that she planned the whole thing; the depression I felt at being dumped again, the empty car park, the blow job and the pleasure that brought, the people and cars and then those final words of hers, ‘that was naughty!’
I drove back to Kate’s in a fit of anger, contemplating all the way and I rarely spoke to her for the whole journey. That was the night, and with the deepest sadness, that I told Kate, “no more.” I couldn’t go on with this type of relationship. It had to stop.
That was until we were both invited to the same party by one of my friends. I ended up taking Kate back to mine as it was much closer; she could drive all the way home in the morning. She giggled as she entered my house. I told her she could have the spare room and she just nodded, but we ended up going to bed at roughly the same time. I left her on the landing area and went to my room. I could hear the tap running in the bathroom, then a knock on my door. I answered it in my dressing gown. Kate pulled me towards the bathroom. She was semi-naked and panting with desire, her lips were moist as she pulled me in close and kissed me. Without warning she pushed me away with the words, ‘we shouldn’t.’
I was not surprised. I twisted her around and pushed her up against the bathroom wall and looked at her face as it almost touched the mirror. I pulled her bra up and pushed my hands up onto her breasts. With her tits exposed, I fondled and squeezed her nipples. I pushed her harder into the wall with Kate moaning and denying the situation all the time.
Her words, ‘we mustn’t do this, it’s wrong,’ fell on stony ground. I pushed her knickers to one side and spread her legs in one, easy, motion. I pushed my cock into her. I fucked her while fondling her breasts until she came, gasping on the mirror in front of her.
We did sleep together that night but in the morning, after breakfast, I reiterated that it was the end and that we would not see each other again. I promised myself that it would be the last time.
This time I kept my word despite her attempts at phoning me and trying to get me to meet her at a half way public house. I said no, and meant it. Even one of my friends bumped into her a month later and told me that she was asking after me. I had to smile.
Ever since then, I have analysed every moment of our time together. I pored over her actions, words, responses and attitude. I analysed everything. Over the years that have passed, I came to the conclusion that Kate was perhaps submissive by nature. Yet she revelled in being caught out, and the act of public sex excited her. Her attitude at going nude underneath that coat was nothing but excitement at her own actions and nothing to do with shyness or the fact that she acted in a ‘naughty’ way.
When she got fucked from behind, that night at my place, she loved every minute of it; yet the only words she said were those of denial; she kept saying that we shouldn’t have done it and that it was ‘naughty’. As she breathed heavily against the mirror with her hands splayed onto the wall in front of her, her body language said anything but denial.
Kate wanted to be taken, used, fucked, forced to have sex but not in a way that resembled rape, far from it. Kate loved being used, and the act of being used and caught out was even higher on her to-do list.
It has taken me five years to become convinced of these astounding facts. That is, if they are factual.
oOo
Which is why I am here, drinking coffee in a café, on the street where Kate lives. I have been here for the last three Saturday’s in a row hoping to bump into her. I have to find out if I am right. I have to know Kate, if it’s the last thing I do. More to the point, I have to know whether it was my fault for being too nice to Kate, for not being the person she wanted me to be. If I am right, then I wish she had just told me.
Having put down the daily newspaper I acknowledge the woman entering the coffee shop.
“Kate! Is that you?”
I knew full well that it was.
“Michael?”
“Yes, I was passing by and popped in for a coffee, fancy bumping into you?”
“What a coincidence,” she reiterated.
“Would you like to join me?” I motioned to the comfy leather seat opposite me.
Kate nodded, she dropped her bag on the chair and ordered a coffee before joining me for a chat.
We caught up on the last five years, quite by ease. I discovered that she was still single, what a surprise that was! I gathered that she had a few relationships after we parted and that she still worked for the same company, in the same place and with the same people.
The conversation then turned to me. I was deliberately cagey. I avoided the “M” word and I pretended to be single but just out of a relationship. At one point in the conversation, we even exchanged mobile numbers, though I am not sure why I did this. Our conversation was casual up to the point where Kate asked me the real reason why I was in this particular café at this particular time. It brought a huge grin to my face; and the famous scene from Casablanca to my mind.
I could have said anything from, ‘I missed you,’ or, ‘I wondered how you were getting on,’ anything would have sufficed. Instead, I looked her in the eye and smiled.
I think it disturbed her a little. She leant back in the chair and pursed her lips. I leant forward a little so that she could hear my whispered words.
“I keep thinking about you, and how I may have missed the point of what you were looking for when we were together? All those times you seemed to like me and then let me down. I now think I know why!”
Kate smiled at me. She too leant forward in her seat. “Are you going to tell me?”
I paused. “I think you just like to be used. Fucked like a toy doll, and just – used.”
Kate pursed her lips and smiled at me. I noticed the glint in her eye.
“But,” I added, “You have been too shy to let anyone know what you want from them, too shy to ask perhaps. Too uncertain of what people would think of you. Too afraid to be honest, even with yourself.”
Kate just stared back at me and then a finger appeared at her lips. A smile developed and spread across her face, “Perhaps!”
I nodded to myself as I looked deep into her eyes. I knew I was right.
I sipped my coffee, finishing it off. Kate reached down for her coffee but I grabbed her hand. Kate looked up at me, “later,” I said, as her eyes darted across my face, “you’re coming with me.”
I pulled Kate up from the chair. The seat slipped backwards making a brief screeching sound. A few people looked around at us and Kate barely had time to grab her bag as we left the coffee shop. We only had about fifty yards to walk to her house. I presumed that she still lived in the same place. I half-pulled her, half walked with her to the front door.
“Open it,” I ordered.
Kate looked at me in disbelief. A little out of breath, she placed the key in the lock and pushed the door open. I ushered her inside and through the middle door into the lounge. Kate dropped her bag on the floor on the way into her house and I manhandled her up against the wall of the lounge; reaching in front of her to unbutton her coat and strip her of it before she reached the wall. I pushed her against the wall with one hand as I threw her coat across the floor.
“You can’t come in here and treat me like this,” she insisted, “now fuck off.”
“I will do exactly as you want me to do,” I informed her, at the same time as putting my hands up her jumper and pushing her bra up and over her breasts just like the last time. Her tits bounced free inside the woollen material.
“This is wrong,” insisted Kate, “Stop it. You shouldn’t touch me like this.”
I lifted Kate’s dress up to her waist. I literally ripped her knickers from her body as I pressed into her. I spread her legs and paused while I undid my trousers to release my hard and erect cock.
“If it’s so wrong,” I hissed into her ear, “then why are you letting me rip your knickers off?”
I placed my hands on her soft flesh underneath her jumper. “Look out there, Kate, look at all those people that can see through your window. All those people that can see you about to get fucked.”
Kate looked to her right as I spread her legs a little more. I saw her eyes close. I saw a wry smile spread across her face. I heard her inhale sharply and then gasp aloud.
“I’ve been thinking, Kate, all those years ago, whether I chose the wrong hole to fuck you in.”
I heard her gasp out loud one more time. “No, not there!”
“I think so, don’t you?”
Kate genuinely struggled for a short while as my cock lubricated itself against her soaking wet pussy.
“Not my arse, please, not my arse,” her pleading was useless, “What will people think?”
I eventually pushed my cock into her anus. It sank all the way in, in one easy go.
I fucked Kate as fast as I could. My hands mauled at her breasts and tweaked her nipples in turn while my whole body pinned her to the wall. I cupped her swinging breasts and squeezed on them. My cock engorged itself inside her bum and I fucked her hard.
Kate’s hands had spread against the wall and slightly elevated above her head.
“Look at all those people out there, I’m sure they could hear you if you scream.”
I knew I really shouldn’t have given her any more reason to get turned on, but I did.
Kate cried out loud, “Fuck me, you bastard!” She shouted.
At the point of cumming inside Kate, I pulled down on her hair and thrust my cock high inside her arse in a state of animalistic urgency; her own orgasm then took over her body, vocal chords and mind. Each spurt of cum was accompanied with a slight pull on her hair and accompanied with a barely audible groan from her lips. After emptying my balls, I pulled out of Kate and stepped back from her. She buckled and fell, kneeling on the floor and shivering in post orgasmic bliss. Panting like the beautiful slut that she was. One hand stopped her body from falling against the wall.
I pulled my trousers up and made myself decent. I pulled lightly on her hair so that I could see her face and thanked her for the pleasure.
“I’m going now,” I told her, “that was the last time Kate...”
I left Kate’s house for the very last time, and I mean that most sincerely.
I think I finally know who Kate is. I feel elated that I was right after analysing it all those years, and realise that I wasn’t going mad. I have to admit it, but I wish I had known all those years ago. I wish I had put two and two together and came up with five. I could have been the person Kate wanted me to be, the person that Kate needed in her life. There are some things in life that you just cannot prepare for, and I guess I was just too naïve myself, at the time.
I stopped just short of my car. My mobile phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at the text message, ‘That was so fucking good, it won’t be the last time, not now – trust me!’
I stared at my phone for a very long minute before looking up. A couple, holding hands, passed just behind me. I watched as he slipped his hand around her waist and kissed her. I watched them as they moved closer towards Kate’s house. I opened the car, hesitant and uncertain that I would actually drive away.
Pansy
- 30.09.2020
- 15
- 0
- Category:
- Mature
