Dirty Little Secrets 4: First Time free porn video

It’s Monday and I’m just packing up to leave work when my mobile goes off. When I see it’s Catherine, I’m caught between elation and apprehension. The latter because she’s never phoned late afternoon like this, and I’m hoping nothing bad’s happened.

“Mark,” I say, not wanting any of my colleagues to hear me say her name.

“Hello, Mark,” she says, putting me instantly at ease. Her voice is soft and seductive, and that indicates that all is well. “Do you have plans for this evening?”

“Not until nine,” I say, in reference to the hour I’m expected at her place, to watch her perform.

“Good,” she says. “Then perhaps you’d like to go for a drive.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.” She sounds amused. “If you don’t have anything better to do.”

“No, no. It’s just… A bit unexpected, that’s all.”

“Where can I pick you up?”

“I work on Market Square.”

There’s silence. “No,” Catherine says, sounding trepidatious. “That won’t do. Can you walk to Quayside? The station.”

“Of course, it’s only a ten minute walk.”

“It’ll be more than worth your while,” Catherine says. “I’ll be at the far end of the car park, in a blue Renault.”

“I can’t wait,” I say.

“Neither can I,” Catherine replies.

I stuff everything into my bag willy-nilly and head out of the office. I have a phone call to make on the way. I lied, you see. I had made plans. I’m supposed to be meeting Trish for a drink, but if Catherine wants to meet, there’s no competition.

Trish is a good friend. The thing is, I fancy her like mad, but I’m not her type. I don’t really want to get into it too much. Let’s just say it’s complicated.

“Something came up,” I tell her. I’m not lying. The moment I heard Catherine’s voice make that veiled promise, I grew hard.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Trish asks.

I prevaricate. I know she’s disappointed with me, but I can’t help that. We’re good friends, but right now my whole existence seems to centre round Catherine. Being friends with someone you fancy like mad, who doesn’t fancy you back, is enough to drive any man crazy. I’m not going to waste time on Trish when I can see Catherine.

“You know, Mark,” Trish says. “You’re behaving awfully secretive of late.”

I know I am, but what am I supposed to say? I can’t tell her the truth, that I know this woman, and every other week when her husband’s away, I go over to her house and wank off while she videos herself. Well, I could say that, I suppose, but I don’t want to risk anything. I’m sure the whole story would amuse Trish, but I don’t want to put Catherine at risk of exposure. (OK, I did hear myself there.) Any indiscretion on my part would run the risk of the whole arrangement being kyboshed, and why would I want to run that risk?

As soon as the call’s over, I banish Trish to the back of my mind. I know this thing with Catherine can’t last, but right now it’s what I’ve got. I reckon she’s only about ten years older than me, so there’s plenty of time for her and her husband to have kids. One day it will happen, and she’ll have no further need of me – whatever the need is I fulfil. I never watch when her husband is home. I’m afraid I’ll feel jealous. I don’t want it to get complicated. I just want to be able to be grateful for what I get, every other week.

As I walk to the station, I’m consumed with anticipation. This is a new development. Previously we’ve only ever met at the house. Yesterday I went over and sat in the chair Catherine provides for me and wanked off while she performed in front of her laptop, emptying my balls into the tumbler she also provides. It was an ordinary session. (Always depending on your definition of ordinary, I suppose.)

But ten days ago, she said we’d become better acquainted, and I’m thrilled at what she might have in mind, though I have no idea. I daren’t even speculate. She said it right after she encouraged me to cum on her tits and rubbed my spunk into them. She’s a very kinky lady, is Catherine, and I’d be happy just to watch her. The thought that she might have something more in mind is mind-blowing.

I find the blue Renault easily enough. She’s backed into the parking space, so she sees me coming long before I open the passenger door. “Hello, Mark,” she says, as I get in the front next to her. “You’re looking smart today.”

I realise that Catherine hasn’t seen me in my best bib and tuck before. She’s only seen me in the sweats I wear when I sneak over to her place, so as to blend into the dusk on the walk there and back. “Work suit,” I explain superfluously as my eyes are attracted to the camcorder sitting in her lap.

Catherine sees me looking and smiles. “I felt like trying something new,” she says. “As a little experiment.”

“What, here?” I say, aghast at the thought of her performing in the station car park. There may not be many people up this end, but it is still a public place.

“Well, sort of,” Catherine says. She hands me the camera. “Are you OK with filming me?”

“Of course,” I say, taking the camera from her. My heart is beating. I still don’t know what this is about, but I’m not about to ask questions.

“Just don’t say anything, and make sure you don’t end up in the film yourself,” she says.

This is how things work. Catherine does as she pleases, and I’m happy to go along with it.

“Not a word from now on,” I promise. The machine isn’t complicated, and recording commences immediately.

Catherine smiles as I aim the camera at her. She looks around, and having satisfied herself that there’s no-one around to see, she begins to pull her dress up. It’s a white dress with a swirly pattern that now slides up, revealing more and more black nylon as it goes.

The nylon is soon revealed as tights. But they are tights with a difference. Catherine has made a hole in the crotch. A hole just large enough for her to be able to fit a dildo. A dildo which I have no doubt is lodged firmly inside her, though it fits so snugly in the hole that everything on the inside of her tights is totally hidden from view. The device is purple and quite slim, with a metallic sheen and controls near the base.

“Surprise,” Catherine smiles and turns the key in the ignition. “Don’t try this at home.” She reaches down to push one of the buttons, and the dildo begins to whirr. “It’s rotating,” she explains as she puts her foot on the accelerator and pulls out of the parking space. “I feel so naughty.” Then she giggles.

I don’t know whether to focus on the dildo between her thighs or on her face, but her face is the most fun, since her expression betrays her arousal. She stares intently at the road, but continuously bites her lip and grins in a slightly shamefaced way. From the way her face twitches, I imagine she’s having trouble holding everything back. She drives alongside railway arches at first, past workshops and lock-ups. Then the road veers right, away from the railway. We end up at some traffic lights, where Catherine takes the opportunity to look at the camera. “This is so naughty,” she says. “I’m so horny. My pussy’s so wet.”

She bites her lip and screws up her face. I don’t know if anyone in one of the other vehicles is looking, nor do I check, instead moving the camera from Catherine’s face to where the dildo pokes through the hole in her tights, then back to her face.

As she drives on, her lips part. She keeps her eyes on the road, but she’s breathing heavily, gasping. “This is incredible!” she announces. Then she goes back to gasping.

I focus the camera on her face. My cock is throbbing. Catherine moans softly, her face twitching. “I’m going to have to pull over,” she breathes. “If I’m not going to be a menace to other road users.” But she continues along for a little while longer, mouth open, occasionally biting her lip as the dildo whirrs and she moans softly.

Then she takes a right turn. There’s a brick wall to the left, hiding some kind of establishment for vocational training. On the other side of the road another brick wall marks out the boundary to a cemetery. Catherine doesn’t seem to care. She switches the engine off. “I need to cum right now,” she breathes.

I twist my body, trying to angle myself so that I can get both Catherine’s face and the dildo into the shot as she rips the tights just enough to insert two fingers above the dildo and play with her clit. “Oh!” she moans loudly, increasing the speed of the dildo at the same time. Her fingers move, her eyes close. A man passes on the pavement, but he’s too preoccupied with his phone to notice the incredibly sexy woman playing with herself less than a yard away.

There’s another loud moan from Catherine. She screws her face up. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she gasps. “In my car.” The dildo whirrs as her hand moves. The tights still obscure any view of her pussy, but her face is enough. She shifts in the seat, her mouth falls open. She grunts and moans. Her mouth opens wider. She sounds like she’s choking, but it’s only the sound of her climax as her body spasms several times over.

She switches the dildo off, but doesn’t remove it, just hiding it again with her dress. Then she turns to the camera. “Did you enjoy that?” she asks. “I know I did.” When she blows the camera a kiss, I stop the recording, since this is how Catherine usually ends her own recordings.

“Turn it back on!” she breathes. I stare at her for a moment, during which she just smiles, looking like a child about to do something naughty. So I do as she says. “I see you did enjoy it,” Catherine says. The bulge in my trousers is hard to miss, and she’s staring right at it.

I can’t believe it when she leans across to unzip me. I’m lost for words, but that doesn’t seem to bother Catherine. When she discovers that I’m wearing boxers, she unbuckles my belt. I’m hoping against hope, but hardly daring to as I lift my body awkwardly, but enough to get trousers and boxers out of the way.

“You poor thing,” Catherine coos, as she reaches out to grip the erection that’s been throbbing away since forever. “I do tease you so, don’t I?”

I’m still tongue-tied. As she moves her hand up and down, I try and focus with the camera, using my other hand to wind the seat down. Catherine leans over me. I aim the camera at my cock, but am unable to concentrate on filming, enraptured by the way her tongue is suddenly slashing at my rod. “I’ve wanted to taste you for such a long time,” Catherine breathes, her tongue then snaking its way up and down my huge erection.

I should warn her, but I can’t say a word. The moment her lips slide over me, I’m lost. I cry out like a wounded animal as my cock tightens and spurts cum straight into Catherine’s mouth. “Mmmmmm!” she exclaims, clenching her lips hard around me. To my amazement, when her mouth comes off me, there’s only a slight trickle of cum running down my shaft to my balls.

I feel embarrassed. This is the third time I’ve ejaculated prematurely with Catherine (albeit once over the phone). She must think I have no stamina at all. Perhaps she sees my embarrassment, because as she sits up straight again, she says, “Don’t worry. I’m sure a young stud like you doesn’t need much time to recuperate.”

She’s right, but I’m not about to tell her of the time I came three times in fifteen minutes with Trish on the other end of the phone torturing me with tales of a wild night out – not that she knew how agonising it was to hear, I hasten to add.

“Make yourself decent,” Catherine says, holding out her hand for the camera. “And wind the seat down fully so you’re out of sight. We don’t want the neighbours to start talking, do we?”

“No,” I say, finding my tongue again. I smile at her.

“Tell me, Mark,” Catherine says, as the journey continues. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”

I’m gobsmacked by all this. Catherine has teased me with for a while, but I imagined that was just to keep my interest up. I never really dared to hope… I still don’t, even though this fantastically sexy woman has just had her lips wrapped round me as I cum. But I have to ask or I’ll never forgive myself.

“What, you mean like… Make love to you?”

“No,” Catherine says and my heart sinks for a split second before she says, “But you may have your wicked way with me.”

I feel foolish. What was I thinking? ‘Make love?’ What’s love got to do with any of this?

But more than anything I feel afraid. So far in all of this, I haven’t really had to take the initiative; Catherine’s done all the performing, called all the shots, decided what is done and when. Now my inexperience is about to reveal itself.

When I say inexperience, I mean inexperience. I’m embarrassed to tell you, but Catherine is the closest I’ve ever come to actually being with a woman. For someone who’s 20 going on 21, that’s just pathetic, isn’t it? I don’t know what it is about me. I have plenty of female friends. In fact I find it easier making friends with women than with men, but the women I fancy, like Trish, never seem to fancy me back. There’s been the odd kiss and fumble, but never anything more.

Part of me tells me I’m being silly. Catherine’s just more or less hinted that I can do pretty much anything I like. But I’m also terrified. It’s an open goal, and I’m terrified I’m going to blast the ball over the bar from two yards out.

Fortunately, Catherine doesn’t seem to mind that I’m suddenly struck dumb, and it’s only ten more minutes to the house. From where I’m reclining I can’t see much, but I know roughly where we are. Catherine giggles as she turns into the driveway and operates the remote control for the garage door to open. “Wouldn’t tongues just wag if they saw me coming home with a toy boy,” she says.

A toy boy? Is that what I am? But I like the sound of it. “Maybe they’d be jealous,” I suggest.

This makes Catherine laugh. “If they knew, they’d probably all want one,” she says.

I’m not sure if she’s being serious or just having a little joke, but the thought of other horny women on the street who wouldn’t be averse to a little extramarital sex intrigues me. It’s like stepping into a world where fantasy turns out to be the norm. With disbelief buzzing round my head, I tell Catherine, “You’re a dream come true.”

Catherine smiles and gives me a peck on the cheek before opening the door. “Then you must tell me what you’ve always dreamed of,” she says.

This sets my nerves off again as I follow her through into the house. What have I dreamed of? Most things, I suppose. Being single and frustrated, I’ve watched a bit of porn, but everyone knows what you see there isn’t real, don’t they? That women don’t actually do a lot of the stuff you see; not in real life.

But having seen Catherine in action, I’m not so sure any more. I don’t want to scare her by suggesting something outlandish, but nor do I want her to think I’m so dull she breaks off our… whatever it is. I don’t want to get too forward by just grabbing her and behaving like a complete Neanderthal, but at the moment I’m being so hesitant I run the risk of her thinking I’m not the man she hopes I am.

“Have a seat,” Catherine tells me once we’re in the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on, so you can fortify yourself while I slip into something a little more enticing.”

The idea of tea as fortification reminds me of my gran. I shake the idea out of my head as I say, “Thanks. I’d like that.” Though really I could do with something stronger. “You have a lovely home.”

“You’re very polite,” Catherine observes, in a tone of voice that suggests she wishes I was a bit more forward. This isn’t going well at all.

We make awkward small talk until she puts the mug of steaming hot tea on the table in front of me. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” she says.

As soon as she’s gone, I start pacing the kitchen, cursing myself. I really need to step up my game, but with absolutely no experience, I’m relying on Catherine to take the lead. It’s just that now she’s expecting me to do things and tell her things, and I don’t know where to start.

I drink the tea more out of a sense of duty than because I really want it. Catherine’s words keep coming back to me. “I want you to have your wicked way with me.” Come on, Mark, I tell myself. Get a grip. She could hardly make it any clearer, could she? You’ll never get a better opportunity than this. Never.

Then Catherine’s voice rings out. “Mark! I’m in the living room.”

It’s the only room in the house I’ve ever been in before, but it’s not hard to follow the sound of her voice. When I enter the room, I stop dead in my tracks. There Catherine stands. She’s changed into black stockings and high heels and a navy blue cupless corset with white frills. That’s it, except for the fact that she’s obviously redone her makeup. “How do I look?” she says. “Now stop being so bashful and tell me what you want to do.”

“You look sensational,” I tell her, but the second question is still beyond answering. There’s only one way I can stop myself from appearing like a prize ninny. I march up to her and grab hold of her large, perfectly rounded breasts, leaning in to begin sucking on a hard nipple.

“My! Someone’s eager,” Catherine says. “I like that. I want you, Mark. Do you want me?”

“More than words can say,” I tell her, before shifting my mouth to her other nipple. As I suck on it, Catherine unbuttons my shirt. I’m a little afraid that my inexperience is showing, but as long as she doesn’t seem to mind, I’m alright.

Far from seeming to mind, her actions suggest she’s eager herself. Feeling more relaxed allows me to grow to full strength long before Catherine unbuckles my trousers and lets those and my boxers drop to my feet. I circle a nipple with my tongue as one of her hands grips my shaft and the other cups my balls. After all of the premature ejaculations there have been of late, I’m relieved that there are no more accidents. “I’m glad that you’re nice and big,” Catherine whispers. “And that you have nice big, heavy balls with lots of spunk in them.” Then she giggles and pulls away, putting a hand over her mouth. I can see her visibly redden. “Oh gosh, what am I saying?” she says. “I sound like a scarlet woman. But I suppose I am a scarlet woman already.”

I don’t know what a scarlet woman is, but I like that she uses such phrases. I don’t know quite what to say, but I feel I must say something. “I like it that you like my big cock,” I say, “And my big, heavy balls.”

Catherine looks at me sideways, something devious playing in her eyes. She goes a deeper shade of red, so that she now really is a scarlet woman. “Do you want to give me your big hard cock?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say, taking a step forward and making a new grab for her breasts.

Catherine steps backwards, confusing me. Then she says, “Not yet. First I have a video to record. After that, you may have your wicked way with me.”

Having gotten into something of a stride, this is too much to bear. “But I want you now,” I say.

“Oooooh!” Catherine says with smiling eyes. “Tell me more.”

I’m on the verge of saying that I want to make love with her again, but stop myself in the nick of time. “I want to, you know, have my wicked way with you, like you said.”

“And I want you to,” Catherine says. “But we can’t have your sperm dribbling out of my pussy when I perform for my husband, now, can we?”

This is interesting. Until now, she hasn’t said a word to me about her husband, or what her performances are all about. I suppose I’ve kind of got the gist of it before now, but I ask anyway. “Is that what you do with the videos? Send them to your husband?”

Catherine looks as if she’s said too much. “You didn’t think I posted them online, did you?”

I’m not sure if I have thought this or not, but while I’m thinking about it, Catherine moves to the armchair where I once saw her pleasure herself with a giant dildo and squirt. I’ve only been half aware of it, but now I see that the camcorder has been placed on a tripod in front of the armchair. She sits down and pulls her legs up, spreading them, using her fingers to spread her pussy lips. “Help me out,” she says. “Have a look at the screen.”

I move across to do as she says. “It looks perfect,” I say.

“Is everything in focus? What can you see?”

By now I’ve reached a point where I realise that there’s no point in mincing words. “Everything’s perfectly in focus,” I say. “All I can see is your pussy, but it looks fabulous.” It does too, moist and wet and glistening.

“That’s what I was hoping,” Catherine says, giving me a wink. “Well, time to get the show on the road.”

“Wait!” I say.

“Why?”

I’m already past the camera. I don’t bother to answer the question. My head is between her thighs. I only have theory to go on, but it’s not hard to locate her clit, since it’s highly visible. “You wicked man!” Catherine cries as my tongue slithers over the swollen bump. “Are you trying to make me cum before I’ve even begun performing?”

It’s my first taste of pussy. I’ve heard and read things about how some men love the taste and others aren’t too keen, but the only thing that interests me is how it reeks and tastes of unbridled sexual desire. When Catherine lets out a long moan, I imagine I must be doing something right. “You taste so good,” I breathe. “I want to lick and lick and lick…”

“Stick your tongue inside me, then go and sit down!” Catherine tells me, her voice strained to breaking point, or so it seems.

So I stick my tongue right inside her honey pot and give a little swirl. Catherine moans loudly. My tongue becomes coated with thick, sexual secretions. I lick my lips when I come up for air, feeling like the cat that got the cream. Catherine looks at me, limp-eyed as I back up, moving to my customary seat, to watch.

Catherine may be making a video for her husband, but once she’s leaned forward to start the recording, and leaned back to show her pussy off to the camera, she keeps her eyes on me. I sit there with my stiff cock on display, hardly daring to touch it, determined to save it all for later.

“Look at me,” Catherine breathes. “Look at my pussy. See how wet I am from wanting you. From wanting your fingers, your tongue… And your big, hard cock.”

I do look. I watch enraptured as Catherine teases herself with her fingers. She moans long and hard and lustily. She asserts over and over how she wants something big and hard inside her. Ostensibly she’s talking to her husband, but all the while the big, hard thing she’s looking at is mine.

Shortly, she plunges two fingers inside herself. I don’t know why the sound surprises me. I have seen her squirt once, after all. But just as I always assumed women only squirted in porn movies, never for real, so I’ve never known that a woman can sound like that down there for real. “I’m so fucking horny,” Catherine announces. “Can you hear how wet I am down there?”

I grin and nod. Catherine smiles at me. Again she tells me how she needs something big and hard. Then she moves forward, grabbing the tripod and moving it a little further back. She checks something, then moves back to the armchair, her back to the camera, bending over so that her arse points at the camera as she rummages for something.

She must have hidden the red dildo under one of the cushions. Now she brings it out into full view. She gets up on the armchair on her knees. Reaching back, she plunges the dildo into herself. This is the start of about five minutes when she plugs herself with the toy in every conceivable position, playing with her breasts from time to time, while she moans, “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”, looking in my direction when she can. Finally, there’s a big climax, with Catherine screaming and her pussy squelching and her body shaking, before she manages to blow the camera a kiss and stop the recording.

Then she reclines in the armchair as she started, holding her pussy lips apart as she looks at me. “It’s your turn now,” she says. “Have your wicked way with me!”

Whenever I’ve imagined the moment when I finally get to be with a woman, it’s always happened as a natural result of being in love, of kissing and cuddling, and things just happening. Everything’s been gentle and tender and it really has been love-making, with someone I love.

It’s been nothing like this, because I don’t love Catherine; of course I don’t. It would be madness. She’s married, and I don’t imagine for a second that she’s going to divorce her husband to be with someone ten years her junior. There’s a photo on a shelf behind Catherine, of her and John on their wedding day. He looks vaguely familiar, but that's probably just be because he looks so ordinary. Catherine’s squinting slightly, but they look happy. I imagine they’re still happy. They don’t have kids, but there’s plenty of time, and when that happens, I’ll be out of Catherine’s life.

And yet, below the picture Catherine sits. A few years older and nowhere near as innocent as she looks in her wedding dress. Black stockings, that cupless corset, holding herself open for me, an expression that even I, with my limited experience can read as big fuck-me eyes. She wants me to have my wicked way with her. That’s what she said.

There are things I want to know, want to ask. But I know that if I ask them, the moment will pass. This is it. This is my chance. Catherine looks at me and smiles some more. Her nipples are still hard. She gives her pussy a little rub, then slides two fingers inside herself.

I’m on my feet. I’m moving across to her. I’m hardly present in my own body. Catherine stares at my hard cock, licking her lips. Her fingers slide back out as I stand before her. There are no words, but her eyes speak volumes. I’m on top of her. And then suddenly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which it probably is, I’m inside her.

Catherine lets out a long moan. “Fuck me!” she breathes. “Oh yes, fuck me! I’ve wanted you to for so long!”

I’ve gone so long with nobody wanting me, I can scarcely believe her. But I don’t care. I don’t care that this is raw, animal passion with no love to speak of. Catherine wants me and I want her. I drive my cock back and forth, breathing heavily. This is nothing like the love-making I’ve imagined, but what does it matter? Her moist, tight walls envelop me. I want to cry out, “Thank you! Thank you!” But I can’t. I’m too ashamed that I’ve never done this before. Instead Catherine looks at me with ravenous eyes and cries out, “Fuck me! Harder! Faster! Fuck me!”

Whatever Catherine wants she gets. This is nothing like the slow, sensual love-making I’ve imagined, and I don’t care. Clutching at her breasts, squeezing hard, I thrust my cock into her as hard as I can. “Yes! Yes!” Catherine screams. “Fuck me! Oh yes, fuck me! I love your big cock!”

Her nipples are massive. I lean forward and suck on one of them. Catherine’s body heaves under me. She has a hand under me too, rubbing herself as I keep working away, driving my cock back and forth. “Oh yes! Oh yes!” she moans.

I’ve seen enough of her to know what this portends. I suck on her other nipple, thrusting and thrusting. Catherine moans, her body grows tense. Her impending climax brings me close to the boil too. But I’m gripped by a sudden thought. Completely entranced by the situation, I’ve completely forgotten about protection - not that I carry rubbers about in my work suit anyway. On the other hand, I can't possibly have anything nasty to pass on, and Catherine doesn’t seem the type to sleep around, but there’s the other kind of protection…

I pull out. As if she can read my mind, Catherine gasps, “It’s alright. I’m on birth control.” But before I have time to penetrate her again, her whole body’s shaking as she’s crying out. I stand there watching, feeling a little bit stupid, but Catherine just smiles at me as she relaxes.

I stand there looking at her with my big throbbing cock. “That was lovely she breathes. I’ve wanted to feel you inside me for so long.”

Even at this stage, this is something I can scarcely believe. Catherine would be the first who’s ever wanted that. Trish, Emily, Anna, Alison; everyone I’ve ever had a crush on, no-one has wanted to feel me inside them.

“I still do,” Catherine goes on, winking at me. “But there’ll be plenty of time for that. If there’s something else you’d like right now, I mean?”

I wish she wouldn’t keep throwing the ball into my court. I have so little experience, and every time she asks, my mind goes blank. I’m amazed to see her fingers return to her pussy, toying idly. Not wanting to appear selfish, I crouch down and move my head in between her thighs.

Having performed on her once with a certain degree of success, I feel more confident now. Catherine giggles as I slide my tongue between her folds. “You are a find, aren’t you?” she says. “You’d rather lick me than fuck me or even get me to suck your cock again.”

Having no experience, I’ve never had the opportunity to work out preferences, but I’m not going to contradict her. “I love the way you taste,” I murmur, feeling as if I’ve done something right when Catherine gives a sudden moan.

I lash out with my tongue and Catherine’s body heaves. “Aaaaah! Stick your fingers inside me!” she urges.

Disbelief still raging in my head, I’ll do anything she says. I stick two fingers inside her, feeling the damp and marvelling at how wet she still is. I work my tongue as fast as I can. “You can get another one in there!” Catherine breathes. “The more the merrier!”

This is way beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. I add a third finger, digging into her as I continue lapping at her. She squelches as I twist my hand and my fingers. I adore sitting between her thighs like this. The taste, the smell is amazing. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Catherine cries. I’m clearly doing something right, so when I feel her hand on my forehead, pushing me away, I know it’s not because this is disagreeable to her.

I stare at her pussy, and at the juices that have leaked out. Catherine pushes three fingers inside herself. I try to see exactly what she’s doing, but I’m still in a daze. All I know is that Catherine is moaning loudly and that when she brings her fingers out, there’s a little squirt, and then another. She looks at my torso, where her juices are running down my chest and gives a little wink. “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together,” she promises.

I’m practically bursting with desire now. It feels like I want to spend all my time worshiping her cunt. But Catherine lurches forwards and passes me. She grabs the tripod and angles it, before getting down on all fours on the floor, diagonally on to the camera.

“Has it been on all this time?” I ask.

“Yes, dear,” Catherine giggles. “I adore performing in front of the camera, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Of course I had, but now there’s one thing I have to know.

“What? You’ll be… Your husband…”

“Oh no!” Catherine says. “John must never know. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“This is strictly for me. Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

In spite of everything I’ve experienced, I’m amazed at how direct she is, but none of that matters. There’s only one thing to be done. I move across behind her, grab my cock and aim it.

“Oh yes!” Catherine moans as I once again experience the sublime joy of her moist walls surrounding me. “Fuck me!”

I reach underneath her to grab her breasts as I begin thrusting. My confidence has risen, since Catherine is so enthusiastic it seems I can do no wrong. It suddenly seems stupid to have imagined that there’s any technique to this driving my cock back and forth and squeezing her breasts. Why has it always seemed like such a big deal?

Catherine makes no secret of her enthusiasm. “Fuck me!” she breaths. “Fuck me and cum for me! Give me all that spunk you’ve got in your nice heavy balls! Fuck me and cum inside me!”

I think of all the times I’ve laid alone, wanking myself silly imagining this, or something like it. It’s been a while since I’ve imagined it with Trish, Emily, Anna, Alison. Recently it’s all been about Catherine, and now it’s finally happening. I’m fucking her, and it’s even better than I imagined. My balls tighten and burn. I thrust and thrust, and with a great howl of relief and gratitude, I cum inside her as she urges me on eagerly.

“You’re amazing,” I say, and Catherine giggles.

When she turns to look at me, I can see that she’s gone all red again, but she looks happy. “Thank you,” she says. “That was wonderful.”

I still can’t quite believe the compliment, but I’m happy enough to hear her say it.

Catherine shows me the way to the bathroom so I can clean myself off before getting back in my suit. “Would you like me to drive you home?” she asks. She’s still wearing nothing but the cupless corset with stockings and heels.

“Thank you, but it’s no distance,” I tell her. Which is true, but really I don’t want her near the house. I’m ashamed enough as it is about still living with my parents. I mean, I’m looking for a place of my own, but it’s tough finding one.

She leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” she says. “I trust you’ll come again.”

“I’ll come whenever you like,” I reply with a grin.

“Good,” Catherine says.

I remain standing, like an idiot. I feel like I should be thanking her profusely for everything she’s just done for me; for giving me my first real taste of no holds barred sex. But I don’t want to have to admit it to her or anyone, so I just say, “Au revoir,” like some pretentious git, and exit through the French windows to make my euphoric way home in the dim light of the moon.