Avery Scarlet Scarlet Makes Her Confession
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A Very Hot Confession free porn video
“Ambrose?” said Em, shifting in her comfy lounge seat on the terrace and deliberately letting her sarong slip open. This manoeuvre revealed not only one very long and very sexy bare leg but also her naked pussy.
“Yes Em?” said Ambrose. He turned his head so he could gaze directly at her waxed slit with the sexy mini triangle of hair above it, on her desirable mound. He wanted to feast on it soon. His cock stirred beneath his own sarong.
“When was the last time you were naughty?” she asked.
Ambrose smiled. His cock hardened. It formed a perceptible bump in his sarong.
They were having a weekend break at a beach place. It was a rare treat since their business schedules lately had basically meant that they met at their front door, one of them arriving home, the other going off on yet another trip.
Em had been the most recent arrival home. She had been to Asia and Europe and, as Ambrose knew very well, she would have had at least one little adventure. His cock firmed fully while he considered exactly what that adventure might have entailed.
His cock then thrust through the front fold of his sarong and stood straight up. Em said, “I’ll suck that in a little while.” His cock instantly pulsed and glistened with pre-cum.
“Well,” he said, looking directly at Em who had now loosened the top of her sarong to reveal her pert, desirable breasts and their now hard, erect nipples, “why don’t you tell me first when you were last naughty?”
Em smiled. It was her special coquettish smile, the one she reserved for occasions such as this, with Ambrose and occasionally for lovers in other circumstances as Ambrose also knew. That latter fact excited him.
She let the sarong fall loosely to her hips, revealing her erotically flat tummy and that sexy little belly-button that so many men would risk crawling over broken glass to lick and kiss. Em had once told him, long ago, that on her business trips many approached the door hoping to press the buzzer but relatively few got there and even fewer gained entry. That also excited him, especially when she later told him it might average one per trip.
Em travelled overseas four or five times a year and had been doing so for ten years. The mathematics was not hard to work out.
“I’ve been away for three weeks Ambrose. I had a couple of nice massages, but that’s not what I want to tell you about. You go first.”
Ambrose smiled again. He loved having dirty conversations with Em. She was the sexiest woman he knew. “All right,” he said, “I’ll go first but only if you tell me about those massages as well. I’m assuming they were very hot, and in your hotel room?”
Em nodded. Ambrose’s mouth went dry with lust. He loved to imagine Em naked, being hotly massaged in a hotel room by a man, or a woman, with sex to follow. He knew this happened on every overseas business trip Em took.
Ambrose swiftly considered his position. They didn’t tell each other everything, he and Em. For example, Em had never mentioned her by now longish-term lover, a much younger man. Ambrose had met him once or twice, when their business circles briefly entwined, and had taken an instant liking to him.
He had asked a well-connected friend to check him out on a business and character reference basis. He had come up with a clean bill of health. He was nice and no risk to Em’s physically safety. That was all that mattered and Ambrose had left the matter there.
His latest activity should not be mentioned, he felt. It had involved an opportunistic interlude with Em’s boss who was a very feisty blonde. He had been delighted to discover after they’d had lunch the previous weekend that she was not a real blonde at all. The dark and impeccably manicured deep V of hair he found in her little white see-through panties was to die for.
Further, since she was married to someone with a high profile whom both Em and he also knew socially, a hotel in their home town had seemed risky. Ambrose had bent one of his normally firm rules and taken her back to the town house he shared with Em. He had fucked her first in her panties (god that had been hot!) on his and Em’s big bed and then, later, twice, naked, in the Jacuzzi in the courtyard at the back.
They had both known that they would fuck each other again when the opportunity arose. Ambrose desired that the opportunity should arise at a reasonable frequency. She was very hot indeed. It was best to keep that one under wraps.
An earlier event would have to do. It was not quite within the framework of Em’s latest overseas absence. Ambrose consoled himself over his half untruth with the thought that Em’s interest would be piqued on hearing of the liaison he would mention. The woman was head of a large industrial organization, a mover and shaker. (Ambrose allowed himself a secret smile when he considered this factor: she had indeed proved to be a mover and a shaker.)
He told Em the story. They had experienced a minor frisson when they faced each other across a big table. Ambrose had been advising the other parties to the discussion. At lunch, carefully, among a crowd of people, he had said to her, “We should have a chat sometime.”
“We should,” she replied.
They did. It took place in her hotel suite after dinner that evening. She had been a tiger. She met him at the door wearing just her hotel robe. It was open. She had a tiny little landing strip and surprisingly pert breasts for a woman of her age. She was slightly older than he.
She had a fabulously taut ass and astonishingly powerful thighs, which he experienced in delightful detail when she rode him reverse cowgirl style and when he woke her up and doggy-styled her in the middle of the night.
What had captivated him, however, was that the moment he arrived at her suite she led him to the bedroom and jumped him 69-style, straddling him and tearing off his clothes and sinking her mouth over his hugely erect cock. She moaned and writhed on his tongue. He came in her mouth.
Ambrose had fucked her four more times. Once missionary, hard, fast, hot, and with lots of noise, before they had slept entangled in her bed. Once cowgirl; once doggy, when he woke her up and turned her gently over onto her front, in the middle of the night. He pushed a pillow under her hips and split her like a peach; and once again in the shower early the next morning, before he crept away unseen and she got a taxi to the airport.
“So it was hot, Ambrose?” said Em. It wasn’t really a question. She had thrown away her sarong and was naked, her fingers playing with her pussy. Plainly it had been hot enough for Em.
“Do I know her?” she asked. This time it really was a question. Ambrose said, “Probably. But I’m not going to tell you her name.”
Em smiled. “Then I shall just have to wonder, Ambrose. I have some meetings next week that might be interesting in that regard.”
Ambrose smiled back at her. “You are one hell of sexy woman Em. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about the massages first.” He threw away his own sarong and took his cock in his hand.
Em spread her legs in the big chair facing him. Ambrose saw that her pussy lips were open, showing the hot dark entrance that he and a number of other lucky men and one or two women had been privileged to see and to play with and to enter. He loved how her little trimmed triangle pointed directly to the gates of heaven below.
“Okay,” said Em. “I’ll tell you about the massages. I went to Osaka first, but of course you know that.” Ambrose did. They always provided each other with copies of their travel itineraries.
A girlfriend had given her the number of a very classy outcall massage service that catered to the better off among Japanese office ladies. It was expensive but very happy to accommodate foreign lady travellers and serviced a wide range of requirements. It was, she had told Em, the best you could find.
Em had been in Osaka for three days. On the last night she had known the business dinner she was going to would end early. She had booked with the outcall service earlier, by email. She had said she wanted a real (and really hot) Japanese experience.
She had got her wish, at some expense, from 9.30 to 11.30 with a naked, tattooed Japanese masseur who had excellently and professionally massaged her very warmly, pussy included, with his hands and then hotly and wetly with his tongue. He had then nailed her to the bed missionary style with his very fat, long and firm cock.
His cock had been naked and when she had tasted it first, earlier in the massage, the man had made little Japanese pleasure noises and she had said, “Hot, inside.” It had remained naked and he had shot her full of hot cum. It had made her shout with pleasure.
Ambrose said, “You have all the fun, Em.”
Em smiled. “I probably do, Ambrose. I expect I’m very naughty. But Shanghai was better.”
Ambrose stroked his tumescent cock. “Tell me about Shanghai, Em.”
She smiled again, pushing three fingers into her pussy and beginning to masturbate and saying to Ambrose, “I want you to fuck me soon, upstairs in our bed. Any way you like.”
Ambrose proposed to fuck Em in her desirable mouth, between her hot lips, and then in the hot hole between her legs, and then in her ass, not necessarily in that order. He remained silent about this plan, though he had no doubt that Em would revel in it.
“I was in Shanghai for two nights, as you also know,” Em said. “I went to a sex club with my Chinese host. We watched a 90-minute sex massage strip scene. The ‘masseur’ stripped his ‘female client’ naked as he commenced the massage.
“He tore off her little red skirt and her black blouse. She was wearing a tiny red bra and a little black string. After a little while and some delightfully erotic massage play, he tore those off too.
“The woman had a full beaver in the Chinese style. Seeing that open for business was delightful. The sex went all the way. Seeing her getting her hair hotly parted by a long hard cock was an absolute turn-on. Seeing her writhing and hearing her shouting when her ‘masseur’ filled her with hot cum was tremendously exciting.”
Em paused. Her eyes took on a faraway look.
“My host thought so too,” she said. “He asked me if I was like that and I said no. He said he’d like to see what I was like. I said I thought he should.”
Ambrose gripped his cock tighter. “And he did get to see what you’re like of course?” he said.
“Of course,” said Em. “He said there were rooms at the club where couples could do play-massage and asked if I would like to do that with him. I just looked at him and he called a waiter over and booked a room immediately.”
Ambrose began to masturbate. “What happened then?” he asked.
Em poked out the little pink tip of her tongue to moisten her lips. She knew very well that this was a very erotic thing to do. Ambrose’s cock hardened further.
“The lighting was very dim, Ambrose,” she said. “A new act had begun. This one involved an attractive woman who evidently was playing the part of a wife left alone in a hotel for the day. She had called an outcall service and was being very hotly and loudly stripped on the bed at that time.”
She paused again.
“Liung, that was his name, he’s the CEO of the company I’d been talking to, slipped a hand up my dress and into my panties. He found my clit immediately and made me come very quickly.”
Ambrose licked his lips. “What happened then Em?”
Em’s eyes took on a faraway look. Her fingers, in her vagina, began to stir.
“He took me to the room he’d booked and gave me a little tasselled string to tie round my hips. It had six tassels with little glass pendants at the front and it seriously disturbed my pussy while I was face-down on the bed and he was massaging my ass and the top of my legs,” she said.
“He gave me the story-line. He told me to imagine that I was very hot married woman who had booked a very special massage in her hotel room on a business trip far from home and that he was the naked masseur who had been lucky enough to get the job.
“None of that was very hard to imagine. Especially the naked masseur bit. He had a full erection throughout the massage.
“It was a 60-minute massage, thirty minutes each side. When he turned me over onto my back he pushed the tassel pendants into my opening and firmly massaged my thighs. His massage strokes made the pendants move inside me. I had an instant orgasm that just went on and on. I got very loud.
“I got even louder when he whispered that it was time for my cock massage. He left my little string on. He thrust his full length into me and fucked me very hard and very fast for a very long time. The heavy tassels jumping up and down on my mound in time with his thrusts were so erotic and arousing.
“When eventually he began to come I told him to come inside. His cock got even harder and longer. He was pinching my nipples frantically and shouting loudly when he finally filled me. God that was fantastic.”
Ambrose looked at her. She really was a very hot woman. Her legs were now splayed widely open and her fingers were rapidly working her clit. She had been wearing a tiny trimmed V of hair on her mound for a year now. Ambrose wondered, idly but hotly, how many men had so far been privileged to see her new style anywhere other than in their imagination.
She had previously had a short, ultra-thin line of hair and before that a deliciously trimmed full pelt. Four years ago, he remembered, she had experimented with a full Brazilian. He had thought this rather odd. Em had also been experimenting at that time with a rather ardent Argentine who she said was giving her tango lessons.
She had laughed when he told her that while it was true that it took two to tango, he thought she’d be better keeping out of Brazilian-Argentine rivalries in South American politics.
Em came loudly, thrashing wildly in the big chair opposite, her fully parted slit glistening wetly. “God that was fantastic,” she breathed.
“You are very seriously sexy Em,” said Ambrose. “I shall have to lick you all over in a little while. And then I would like to do you doggy-style. Now, what about your real treat? It’s time to tell all.”
She smiled and reached behind her. She showed him the little string with the glass-pendant tassels. “I got this as a souvenir Ambrose,” she said. “I immediately added it to my travel kit.”
Ambrose instantly imagined Em wearing it for a late night massage in a hotel room. The thought made him very hot indeed.
On her latest trip Em had travelled first to Europe – specifically to Amsterdam, Paris and Milan. He wondered hotly in which of these cities, all of them scenes of earlier adventures, the spectacular event she wanted to tell him about had taken place.
Possibly Milan, he decided. There had been one evening while she was there on which he had not got an answer from the phone in her room.
“Is it available for home use Em?” he asked. He would really like to give Em a massage on their bed while she was wearing that.
She winked at him. “Of course,” she said, and winked again. “Have you got tired of playing fantasy games with my little lace strings?”
It was Ambrose’s turn to wink. “Not at all,” he said. “I put on that really tiny black lace bra and string of yours the night I couldn’t reach you in Milan and had a very hot fantasy.”
She looked directly at him. “I’ll tell you about Milan some other time Ambrose. Tonight I want to tell you about Paris.”
His cock, which had been temporarily resting half-erect, shot up vertically. “You little minx,” he said with a laugh. “You were only away just over two weeks.”
Em looked at him directly, again, this time with a firm expression. “Paris,” she said. Ambrose always knew when to shut up. This was one of those times.
“It was nineteen days,” she said. “I had a little fun with a very ardent suitor.” Ambrose thought: Of course you did. “I was very naughty,” she said. Ambrose thought: Of course you were. Em said, “I played cock-tease.”
She paused for effect. She was a great story-teller.
“He’d made a discreet play the very first day I was there, over lunch with the board. He was present as some kind of co-opted member for the session. A very bright young man, some sort of engineer but also a linguist and as it turned out, a bon-vivant.
“He was a lot younger than me. I got a little thrill out of playing the disinterested older woman. I could see it was driving him mad through the rest of the business session that day. Afterwards he asked me if I would go for a drink with him. I said no.
“The next day he looked a bit hang-dog and tried to be distant. I could see it wasn’t working for him, poor chap. He tried me again at lunch, discreetly. I turned him down, nicely but firmly. Of course, I was interested. He was built like a rugby football forward – and actually it turned out he did play rugby.
“By break-up time on the second day, which was also the last, he was desperate, poor fellow. He swallowed his pride and cornered me as I was having an aperitif in the boardroom annexe.
“He asked me please to do him the honour of having dinner with him that evening. So I relented and said yes, as long as he understood that it was only dinner. He looked very disappointed but of course said yes.
“I said I’d meet him at whichever restaurant he nominated. He said he would book at a three-stars-rated place in Place de Vosges in the Fourth Arrondissement and I said I would see him there at seven o’clock.
“I could see that he was disappointed with my formality and the obvious – to him – unlikelihood that he would achieve his own desired outcome that evening, but there was anticipation there too. Perhaps he was thinking he might be able to talk me into it over dinner. Or of course, since he knew I would be back in Paris from time to time, hope was springing eternal.”
Em paused in her narrative. “It was delicious. I am such a bitch.”
Ambrose smiled at his lovely hot wife. “Yes, you are,” he said. Em stuck her sexy tongue out at him. “I’m a cock-sucking bitch,” she said, shifting her gaze to Ambrose’s erect member. It twitched and its top acquired a fresh glister of pre-cum. It knew what was coming its way later.
“I had plenty of time,” said Em. “I went back to the hotel (Em always stayed at a little place on the Left Bank, a former convent – she liked its cloistered environment and its studied, Gallic indifference to the privately arranged nocturnal activities of its guests) and got ready to go out in a leisurely manner.
“I had a huge shower. I trimmed Ms Venus. I powdered and perfumed. I was feeling very horny by this stage because I had decided what to wear and I was sure it would make a good impression.
“It was a very conservative rig,” she said.
“I’d chosen that midnight blue dress with the just above the knee hemline. I’d decided to wear proper stockings. So I wore my little red garter belt underneath and its little matching red bra. My stockings were sheer skin-tone with a very sexy black lace arrangement at the top.
“I wore some new ultra-high-heel black patent leather shoes with ankle straps. I put on that lovely blue and white silk and diamante choker you bought me last year – I hope you don’t mind that – and of course that fabulous Argyll champagne diamond ring I wear with my wedding ring.”
She laughed. “When I checked myself out in the mirror I looked so good I could have eaten myself.”
“Hadn’t you forgotten something Em?” said Ambrose.
She laughed again. “Of course I hadn’t forgotten anything Ambrose. A girl always dresses with supreme care. I had decided not to wear panties.”
Ambrose’s cock twitched again.
“I arrived at the restaurant at 7.10. I wanted to be sure that Gilles – that’s his name by the way – was already there so he could watch me walk in and approach the table. It worked just as I’d planned. I was pleasant but formal and he was doing his best to put a good face on an evening he had obviously concluded was a waste of time.
“It was delicious to be seated across from him at the small table-for-two we’d been given. He had no idea that my naked pussy was only a hand-grab away.
“We ate lightly. He was an unusual Frenchman. I had an entree plate of langoustines in sesame seeds and curry sauce and then a lovely fine cocoa tart with a mocha crème glace. We drank a bottle of very nice white wine from Alsace and had cheese and coffee and cognac.
“He made an attempt at a pass over the cocoa tart which I pretended not to notice. The meal was all over by 8.30. He was cheerful but I could tell he was disconsolate.
“So then I said that perhaps he would like to come back to my hotel – he knew where I was staying – and we could have a nightcap at the bar.
“We sat well apart in the back of the taxi but I patted his hand once or twice while we were talking. I could tell it was tormenting him. He was such a well-mannered young man that he wouldn’t let it show, however.
“When we arrived at the hotel I purposely made a mess of getting out of the taxi as he held the door open for me. He got just a glimpse of black lace stocking top and red garter belt. He was like a stag that had just picked up the scent of a distant and unreachable hind, poor chap.
“Then we went inside and I suggested we forgo the bar because there were several people in there and instead have a drink in my salon in the suite. I allowed my hand to brush against his a couple of times as we walked along the corridor. At one point, he took my hand and squeezed it. I pulled it away gently and smiled at him.”
Ambrose could imagine the scene. He felt desperately sorry for poor Gilles.
“We reached my suite. The lobby light and some soft mood lighting were already on – the hotel people are really very good there – and the little courtyard with its trimmed green bushes was lit. The turn-down service had lit the little gas fire in the salon. It had coal-like briquettes and real flames just like ours at home.”
Em and Ambrose liked their little fireplace. They loved to fuck each other in front of its flames on winter afternoons.
“I asked him what he’d like to drink,” said Em. “He said he’d like a whisky with ice. I said I would get the drinks and perhaps he would like to freshen up. I pointed him towards the bathroom off the bedroom behind the full-depth timber screen. He trotted off, dutiful chap.
“I poured the drinks – mine was a whisky too – and set his on the table next to the armchair that faced the sofa. I put mine on the table beside the sofa and my handbag on the sofa, to say ‘this is where I’m sitting’.
“He returned. I indicated where he should sit. He sat. I went over to the music system and put on some nice soft rock and dimmed the lights. I returned to the sofa and perched on the edge of the seat, knees firmly together, raised my glass and said, ‘Cheers, Gilles. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely’.
“Then I sat right back in the sofa so the skirt of my dress rode up and I spread my legs wide. I said to him, ‘I believe this is what you’ve been looking for’”.
“He said, ‘Oh god!’ and jumped up. He approached me, placed his hands on the insides of my thighs and pinched them, and nuzzled the hair on my mound with his lips. Then he licked my pussy. Then he said, ‘Were you like that at dinner?’ I nodded. He said ‘Oh god!’ again. I undid his belt and trousers and pulled down the bulging underpants I found inside.
“His big cock sprang out at me. I gave it a quick primer with my mouth, the first of several delicious tastings over the next few hours. Then he fucked me from a standing start right there on the sofa. I yelped when he thrust his full length into me and shouted with his frantic rhythm until he came.
“He was a very virile young man. He gave me his cock in six different and very hot ways before he left to go home just before it got light next morning. His wife was away, I think.”
Ambrose could take no more. He picked Em up and carried her to the bedroom of their weekend apartment and placed her face down on the big bed. He put a pillow under her hips to lift up her sexy little ass. He pushed her legs wide apart. She was wet and open. He could smell her urgent need for hot penetration.
“The first one’s going to be very quick,” he whispered into her ear just after he had licked and nibbled it. Em let out a little whimper of anticipation.
Ambrose thrust his cock doggy-style into the hot, secret darkness between her damp thighs. He did her hard and quite roughly. He shouted; she squealed, hotly aware that her vaginal muscles were yet again, deliciously, stretching themselves to the limit to accommodate ardent cock.
She came, bucking under him noisily. He very soon too, with mad thrusts, in the hot slickness of Em’s orgasmic vagina, and in great ecstatic rushes.
“Yes Em?” said Ambrose. He turned his head so he could gaze directly at her waxed slit with the sexy mini triangle of hair above it, on her desirable mound. He wanted to feast on it soon. His cock stirred beneath his own sarong.
“When was the last time you were naughty?” she asked.
Ambrose smiled. His cock hardened. It formed a perceptible bump in his sarong.
They were having a weekend break at a beach place. It was a rare treat since their business schedules lately had basically meant that they met at their front door, one of them arriving home, the other going off on yet another trip.
Em had been the most recent arrival home. She had been to Asia and Europe and, as Ambrose knew very well, she would have had at least one little adventure. His cock firmed fully while he considered exactly what that adventure might have entailed.
His cock then thrust through the front fold of his sarong and stood straight up. Em said, “I’ll suck that in a little while.” His cock instantly pulsed and glistened with pre-cum.
“Well,” he said, looking directly at Em who had now loosened the top of her sarong to reveal her pert, desirable breasts and their now hard, erect nipples, “why don’t you tell me first when you were last naughty?”
Em smiled. It was her special coquettish smile, the one she reserved for occasions such as this, with Ambrose and occasionally for lovers in other circumstances as Ambrose also knew. That latter fact excited him.
She let the sarong fall loosely to her hips, revealing her erotically flat tummy and that sexy little belly-button that so many men would risk crawling over broken glass to lick and kiss. Em had once told him, long ago, that on her business trips many approached the door hoping to press the buzzer but relatively few got there and even fewer gained entry. That also excited him, especially when she later told him it might average one per trip.
Em travelled overseas four or five times a year and had been doing so for ten years. The mathematics was not hard to work out.
“I’ve been away for three weeks Ambrose. I had a couple of nice massages, but that’s not what I want to tell you about. You go first.”
Ambrose smiled again. He loved having dirty conversations with Em. She was the sexiest woman he knew. “All right,” he said, “I’ll go first but only if you tell me about those massages as well. I’m assuming they were very hot, and in your hotel room?”
Em nodded. Ambrose’s mouth went dry with lust. He loved to imagine Em naked, being hotly massaged in a hotel room by a man, or a woman, with sex to follow. He knew this happened on every overseas business trip Em took.
Ambrose swiftly considered his position. They didn’t tell each other everything, he and Em. For example, Em had never mentioned her by now longish-term lover, a much younger man. Ambrose had met him once or twice, when their business circles briefly entwined, and had taken an instant liking to him.
He had asked a well-connected friend to check him out on a business and character reference basis. He had come up with a clean bill of health. He was nice and no risk to Em’s physically safety. That was all that mattered and Ambrose had left the matter there.
His latest activity should not be mentioned, he felt. It had involved an opportunistic interlude with Em’s boss who was a very feisty blonde. He had been delighted to discover after they’d had lunch the previous weekend that she was not a real blonde at all. The dark and impeccably manicured deep V of hair he found in her little white see-through panties was to die for.
Further, since she was married to someone with a high profile whom both Em and he also knew socially, a hotel in their home town had seemed risky. Ambrose had bent one of his normally firm rules and taken her back to the town house he shared with Em. He had fucked her first in her panties (god that had been hot!) on his and Em’s big bed and then, later, twice, naked, in the Jacuzzi in the courtyard at the back.
They had both known that they would fuck each other again when the opportunity arose. Ambrose desired that the opportunity should arise at a reasonable frequency. She was very hot indeed. It was best to keep that one under wraps.
An earlier event would have to do. It was not quite within the framework of Em’s latest overseas absence. Ambrose consoled himself over his half untruth with the thought that Em’s interest would be piqued on hearing of the liaison he would mention. The woman was head of a large industrial organization, a mover and shaker. (Ambrose allowed himself a secret smile when he considered this factor: she had indeed proved to be a mover and a shaker.)
He told Em the story. They had experienced a minor frisson when they faced each other across a big table. Ambrose had been advising the other parties to the discussion. At lunch, carefully, among a crowd of people, he had said to her, “We should have a chat sometime.”
“We should,” she replied.
They did. It took place in her hotel suite after dinner that evening. She had been a tiger. She met him at the door wearing just her hotel robe. It was open. She had a tiny little landing strip and surprisingly pert breasts for a woman of her age. She was slightly older than he.
She had a fabulously taut ass and astonishingly powerful thighs, which he experienced in delightful detail when she rode him reverse cowgirl style and when he woke her up and doggy-styled her in the middle of the night.
What had captivated him, however, was that the moment he arrived at her suite she led him to the bedroom and jumped him 69-style, straddling him and tearing off his clothes and sinking her mouth over his hugely erect cock. She moaned and writhed on his tongue. He came in her mouth.
Ambrose had fucked her four more times. Once missionary, hard, fast, hot, and with lots of noise, before they had slept entangled in her bed. Once cowgirl; once doggy, when he woke her up and turned her gently over onto her front, in the middle of the night. He pushed a pillow under her hips and split her like a peach; and once again in the shower early the next morning, before he crept away unseen and she got a taxi to the airport.
“So it was hot, Ambrose?” said Em. It wasn’t really a question. She had thrown away her sarong and was naked, her fingers playing with her pussy. Plainly it had been hot enough for Em.
“Do I know her?” she asked. This time it really was a question. Ambrose said, “Probably. But I’m not going to tell you her name.”
Em smiled. “Then I shall just have to wonder, Ambrose. I have some meetings next week that might be interesting in that regard.”
Ambrose smiled back at her. “You are one hell of sexy woman Em. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about the massages first.” He threw away his own sarong and took his cock in his hand.
Em spread her legs in the big chair facing him. Ambrose saw that her pussy lips were open, showing the hot dark entrance that he and a number of other lucky men and one or two women had been privileged to see and to play with and to enter. He loved how her little trimmed triangle pointed directly to the gates of heaven below.
“Okay,” said Em. “I’ll tell you about the massages. I went to Osaka first, but of course you know that.” Ambrose did. They always provided each other with copies of their travel itineraries.
A girlfriend had given her the number of a very classy outcall massage service that catered to the better off among Japanese office ladies. It was expensive but very happy to accommodate foreign lady travellers and serviced a wide range of requirements. It was, she had told Em, the best you could find.
Em had been in Osaka for three days. On the last night she had known the business dinner she was going to would end early. She had booked with the outcall service earlier, by email. She had said she wanted a real (and really hot) Japanese experience.
She had got her wish, at some expense, from 9.30 to 11.30 with a naked, tattooed Japanese masseur who had excellently and professionally massaged her very warmly, pussy included, with his hands and then hotly and wetly with his tongue. He had then nailed her to the bed missionary style with his very fat, long and firm cock.
His cock had been naked and when she had tasted it first, earlier in the massage, the man had made little Japanese pleasure noises and she had said, “Hot, inside.” It had remained naked and he had shot her full of hot cum. It had made her shout with pleasure.
Ambrose said, “You have all the fun, Em.”
Em smiled. “I probably do, Ambrose. I expect I’m very naughty. But Shanghai was better.”
Ambrose stroked his tumescent cock. “Tell me about Shanghai, Em.”
She smiled again, pushing three fingers into her pussy and beginning to masturbate and saying to Ambrose, “I want you to fuck me soon, upstairs in our bed. Any way you like.”
Ambrose proposed to fuck Em in her desirable mouth, between her hot lips, and then in the hot hole between her legs, and then in her ass, not necessarily in that order. He remained silent about this plan, though he had no doubt that Em would revel in it.
“I was in Shanghai for two nights, as you also know,” Em said. “I went to a sex club with my Chinese host. We watched a 90-minute sex massage strip scene. The ‘masseur’ stripped his ‘female client’ naked as he commenced the massage.
“He tore off her little red skirt and her black blouse. She was wearing a tiny red bra and a little black string. After a little while and some delightfully erotic massage play, he tore those off too.
“The woman had a full beaver in the Chinese style. Seeing that open for business was delightful. The sex went all the way. Seeing her getting her hair hotly parted by a long hard cock was an absolute turn-on. Seeing her writhing and hearing her shouting when her ‘masseur’ filled her with hot cum was tremendously exciting.”
Em paused. Her eyes took on a faraway look.
“My host thought so too,” she said. “He asked me if I was like that and I said no. He said he’d like to see what I was like. I said I thought he should.”
Ambrose gripped his cock tighter. “And he did get to see what you’re like of course?” he said.
“Of course,” said Em. “He said there were rooms at the club where couples could do play-massage and asked if I would like to do that with him. I just looked at him and he called a waiter over and booked a room immediately.”
Ambrose began to masturbate. “What happened then?” he asked.
Em poked out the little pink tip of her tongue to moisten her lips. She knew very well that this was a very erotic thing to do. Ambrose’s cock hardened further.
“The lighting was very dim, Ambrose,” she said. “A new act had begun. This one involved an attractive woman who evidently was playing the part of a wife left alone in a hotel for the day. She had called an outcall service and was being very hotly and loudly stripped on the bed at that time.”
She paused again.
“Liung, that was his name, he’s the CEO of the company I’d been talking to, slipped a hand up my dress and into my panties. He found my clit immediately and made me come very quickly.”
Ambrose licked his lips. “What happened then Em?”
Em’s eyes took on a faraway look. Her fingers, in her vagina, began to stir.
“He took me to the room he’d booked and gave me a little tasselled string to tie round my hips. It had six tassels with little glass pendants at the front and it seriously disturbed my pussy while I was face-down on the bed and he was massaging my ass and the top of my legs,” she said.
“He gave me the story-line. He told me to imagine that I was very hot married woman who had booked a very special massage in her hotel room on a business trip far from home and that he was the naked masseur who had been lucky enough to get the job.
“None of that was very hard to imagine. Especially the naked masseur bit. He had a full erection throughout the massage.
“It was a 60-minute massage, thirty minutes each side. When he turned me over onto my back he pushed the tassel pendants into my opening and firmly massaged my thighs. His massage strokes made the pendants move inside me. I had an instant orgasm that just went on and on. I got very loud.
“I got even louder when he whispered that it was time for my cock massage. He left my little string on. He thrust his full length into me and fucked me very hard and very fast for a very long time. The heavy tassels jumping up and down on my mound in time with his thrusts were so erotic and arousing.
“When eventually he began to come I told him to come inside. His cock got even harder and longer. He was pinching my nipples frantically and shouting loudly when he finally filled me. God that was fantastic.”
Ambrose looked at her. She really was a very hot woman. Her legs were now splayed widely open and her fingers were rapidly working her clit. She had been wearing a tiny trimmed V of hair on her mound for a year now. Ambrose wondered, idly but hotly, how many men had so far been privileged to see her new style anywhere other than in their imagination.
She had previously had a short, ultra-thin line of hair and before that a deliciously trimmed full pelt. Four years ago, he remembered, she had experimented with a full Brazilian. He had thought this rather odd. Em had also been experimenting at that time with a rather ardent Argentine who she said was giving her tango lessons.
She had laughed when he told her that while it was true that it took two to tango, he thought she’d be better keeping out of Brazilian-Argentine rivalries in South American politics.
Em came loudly, thrashing wildly in the big chair opposite, her fully parted slit glistening wetly. “God that was fantastic,” she breathed.
“You are very seriously sexy Em,” said Ambrose. “I shall have to lick you all over in a little while. And then I would like to do you doggy-style. Now, what about your real treat? It’s time to tell all.”
She smiled and reached behind her. She showed him the little string with the glass-pendant tassels. “I got this as a souvenir Ambrose,” she said. “I immediately added it to my travel kit.”
Ambrose instantly imagined Em wearing it for a late night massage in a hotel room. The thought made him very hot indeed.
On her latest trip Em had travelled first to Europe – specifically to Amsterdam, Paris and Milan. He wondered hotly in which of these cities, all of them scenes of earlier adventures, the spectacular event she wanted to tell him about had taken place.
Possibly Milan, he decided. There had been one evening while she was there on which he had not got an answer from the phone in her room.
“Is it available for home use Em?” he asked. He would really like to give Em a massage on their bed while she was wearing that.
She winked at him. “Of course,” she said, and winked again. “Have you got tired of playing fantasy games with my little lace strings?”
It was Ambrose’s turn to wink. “Not at all,” he said. “I put on that really tiny black lace bra and string of yours the night I couldn’t reach you in Milan and had a very hot fantasy.”
She looked directly at him. “I’ll tell you about Milan some other time Ambrose. Tonight I want to tell you about Paris.”
His cock, which had been temporarily resting half-erect, shot up vertically. “You little minx,” he said with a laugh. “You were only away just over two weeks.”
Em looked at him directly, again, this time with a firm expression. “Paris,” she said. Ambrose always knew when to shut up. This was one of those times.
“It was nineteen days,” she said. “I had a little fun with a very ardent suitor.” Ambrose thought: Of course you did. “I was very naughty,” she said. Ambrose thought: Of course you were. Em said, “I played cock-tease.”
She paused for effect. She was a great story-teller.
“He’d made a discreet play the very first day I was there, over lunch with the board. He was present as some kind of co-opted member for the session. A very bright young man, some sort of engineer but also a linguist and as it turned out, a bon-vivant.
“He was a lot younger than me. I got a little thrill out of playing the disinterested older woman. I could see it was driving him mad through the rest of the business session that day. Afterwards he asked me if I would go for a drink with him. I said no.
“The next day he looked a bit hang-dog and tried to be distant. I could see it wasn’t working for him, poor chap. He tried me again at lunch, discreetly. I turned him down, nicely but firmly. Of course, I was interested. He was built like a rugby football forward – and actually it turned out he did play rugby.
“By break-up time on the second day, which was also the last, he was desperate, poor fellow. He swallowed his pride and cornered me as I was having an aperitif in the boardroom annexe.
“He asked me please to do him the honour of having dinner with him that evening. So I relented and said yes, as long as he understood that it was only dinner. He looked very disappointed but of course said yes.
“I said I’d meet him at whichever restaurant he nominated. He said he would book at a three-stars-rated place in Place de Vosges in the Fourth Arrondissement and I said I would see him there at seven o’clock.
“I could see that he was disappointed with my formality and the obvious – to him – unlikelihood that he would achieve his own desired outcome that evening, but there was anticipation there too. Perhaps he was thinking he might be able to talk me into it over dinner. Or of course, since he knew I would be back in Paris from time to time, hope was springing eternal.”
Em paused in her narrative. “It was delicious. I am such a bitch.”
Ambrose smiled at his lovely hot wife. “Yes, you are,” he said. Em stuck her sexy tongue out at him. “I’m a cock-sucking bitch,” she said, shifting her gaze to Ambrose’s erect member. It twitched and its top acquired a fresh glister of pre-cum. It knew what was coming its way later.
“I had plenty of time,” said Em. “I went back to the hotel (Em always stayed at a little place on the Left Bank, a former convent – she liked its cloistered environment and its studied, Gallic indifference to the privately arranged nocturnal activities of its guests) and got ready to go out in a leisurely manner.
“I had a huge shower. I trimmed Ms Venus. I powdered and perfumed. I was feeling very horny by this stage because I had decided what to wear and I was sure it would make a good impression.
“It was a very conservative rig,” she said.
“I’d chosen that midnight blue dress with the just above the knee hemline. I’d decided to wear proper stockings. So I wore my little red garter belt underneath and its little matching red bra. My stockings were sheer skin-tone with a very sexy black lace arrangement at the top.
“I wore some new ultra-high-heel black patent leather shoes with ankle straps. I put on that lovely blue and white silk and diamante choker you bought me last year – I hope you don’t mind that – and of course that fabulous Argyll champagne diamond ring I wear with my wedding ring.”
She laughed. “When I checked myself out in the mirror I looked so good I could have eaten myself.”
“Hadn’t you forgotten something Em?” said Ambrose.
She laughed again. “Of course I hadn’t forgotten anything Ambrose. A girl always dresses with supreme care. I had decided not to wear panties.”
Ambrose’s cock twitched again.
“I arrived at the restaurant at 7.10. I wanted to be sure that Gilles – that’s his name by the way – was already there so he could watch me walk in and approach the table. It worked just as I’d planned. I was pleasant but formal and he was doing his best to put a good face on an evening he had obviously concluded was a waste of time.
“It was delicious to be seated across from him at the small table-for-two we’d been given. He had no idea that my naked pussy was only a hand-grab away.
“We ate lightly. He was an unusual Frenchman. I had an entree plate of langoustines in sesame seeds and curry sauce and then a lovely fine cocoa tart with a mocha crème glace. We drank a bottle of very nice white wine from Alsace and had cheese and coffee and cognac.
“He made an attempt at a pass over the cocoa tart which I pretended not to notice. The meal was all over by 8.30. He was cheerful but I could tell he was disconsolate.
“So then I said that perhaps he would like to come back to my hotel – he knew where I was staying – and we could have a nightcap at the bar.
“We sat well apart in the back of the taxi but I patted his hand once or twice while we were talking. I could tell it was tormenting him. He was such a well-mannered young man that he wouldn’t let it show, however.
“When we arrived at the hotel I purposely made a mess of getting out of the taxi as he held the door open for me. He got just a glimpse of black lace stocking top and red garter belt. He was like a stag that had just picked up the scent of a distant and unreachable hind, poor chap.
“Then we went inside and I suggested we forgo the bar because there were several people in there and instead have a drink in my salon in the suite. I allowed my hand to brush against his a couple of times as we walked along the corridor. At one point, he took my hand and squeezed it. I pulled it away gently and smiled at him.”
Ambrose could imagine the scene. He felt desperately sorry for poor Gilles.
“We reached my suite. The lobby light and some soft mood lighting were already on – the hotel people are really very good there – and the little courtyard with its trimmed green bushes was lit. The turn-down service had lit the little gas fire in the salon. It had coal-like briquettes and real flames just like ours at home.”
Em and Ambrose liked their little fireplace. They loved to fuck each other in front of its flames on winter afternoons.
“I asked him what he’d like to drink,” said Em. “He said he’d like a whisky with ice. I said I would get the drinks and perhaps he would like to freshen up. I pointed him towards the bathroom off the bedroom behind the full-depth timber screen. He trotted off, dutiful chap.
“I poured the drinks – mine was a whisky too – and set his on the table next to the armchair that faced the sofa. I put mine on the table beside the sofa and my handbag on the sofa, to say ‘this is where I’m sitting’.
“He returned. I indicated where he should sit. He sat. I went over to the music system and put on some nice soft rock and dimmed the lights. I returned to the sofa and perched on the edge of the seat, knees firmly together, raised my glass and said, ‘Cheers, Gilles. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely’.
“Then I sat right back in the sofa so the skirt of my dress rode up and I spread my legs wide. I said to him, ‘I believe this is what you’ve been looking for’”.
“He said, ‘Oh god!’ and jumped up. He approached me, placed his hands on the insides of my thighs and pinched them, and nuzzled the hair on my mound with his lips. Then he licked my pussy. Then he said, ‘Were you like that at dinner?’ I nodded. He said ‘Oh god!’ again. I undid his belt and trousers and pulled down the bulging underpants I found inside.
“His big cock sprang out at me. I gave it a quick primer with my mouth, the first of several delicious tastings over the next few hours. Then he fucked me from a standing start right there on the sofa. I yelped when he thrust his full length into me and shouted with his frantic rhythm until he came.
“He was a very virile young man. He gave me his cock in six different and very hot ways before he left to go home just before it got light next morning. His wife was away, I think.”
Ambrose could take no more. He picked Em up and carried her to the bedroom of their weekend apartment and placed her face down on the big bed. He put a pillow under her hips to lift up her sexy little ass. He pushed her legs wide apart. She was wet and open. He could smell her urgent need for hot penetration.
“The first one’s going to be very quick,” he whispered into her ear just after he had licked and nibbled it. Em let out a little whimper of anticipation.
Ambrose thrust his cock doggy-style into the hot, secret darkness between her damp thighs. He did her hard and quite roughly. He shouted; she squealed, hotly aware that her vaginal muscles were yet again, deliciously, stretching themselves to the limit to accommodate ardent cock.
She came, bucking under him noisily. He very soon too, with mad thrusts, in the hot slickness of Em’s orgasmic vagina, and in great ecstatic rushes.
Lizbeth
- 12.08.2022
- 14
- 0
- Category:
- Quickie Sex
