Ever Had a Hyena Shag?

Have you ever had a Hyena Shag?

It’s when you go out and get so drunk that you don’t pay any attention to the appearance of the person you go home with. When you wake up the next day with your arm trapped under them and see them for the first time in daylight through sober (if hung over) eyes you realise how truly ugly and grotesque they are and you’re willing to chew your arm off at the shoulder rather than risk waking them by pulling it out from under them.

Even worse is when they wake up first and start to play with your cock or your pussy in the hope that you will be able to shag them one last time before you go. They’re so thankful that such a hunk or fox not only looked at them last night without recoiling in disgust, that they want to make sure you have a really great time in the hope that you’ll come back for more. As you wake up the gentle stimulation of your genitals gets the old juices flowing, either in the form of a creamy liquid lubrication easing its way towards your labia, or as blood rushing to engorge your prick and make it stand proudly under the bedclothes.

It’s great until that cringe inducing moment that you open your eyes and see the horror of humanity that you went to bed with last night. It’s usually at that instant that your pussy dries up irrevocably, or, in my case, my cock shrivels to the size of a two maltesers and a liquorice torpedo!

Getting it up in order to be able to get up and leave gracefully with a minimum of hurt feelings and thrown crockery can be a struggle. Fortunately, I have one particular memory that can help, if I can tune out the gut churning vision threatening to kiss me with what she thinks is an alluring look in her eyes! I know I should drink less and so avoid the whole hyena shag scenario, but shit happens.

It was during the early 1990s that I qualified as a solicitor with a large provincial firm. The firm was unusual in that it was, through some historical mistake or other quite large but was based a long way from any really major conurbations. It was in a small city which only qualifies as a city because back in the 1100s some Norman bishop decided to build a cathedral to replace the Saxon abbey that had stood there.

Most of the lawyers who worked at the firm had moved there from out of the area and most of the support staff was local.

Ann was an attractive blonde secretary in her late 40s. She had a daughter who must have been about 15 years old at that stage. Although she was an incurable romantic, Ann’s marriage had fallen apart some years previously. After the messy divorce she had concentrated on raising her daughter. Now that the daughter was growing up Ann had started to socialise more and to her great delight had found a new man who was several years younger, but totally devoted to her. Before long, wedding plans were announced and those of us in her department were invited to the wedding.

She and I had got quite close, although we were never more than friends. The closest we had ever got to what our bosses would call an “Improper Relationship” was when she showed me a tattoo of a horned red devil that her ex- husband had made her get. It was at the firm’s Christmas party and she was a little tipsy. I remember the tattoo was low on her belly, below her hip and when she unzipped her trousers and pulled the waistband of her underwear down to show me I caught sight of a dense patch of hair. She was definitely a bottled blonde.

Ann was the sort of woman who couldn’t contemplate any physical relationship without romance, and I was looking for the physical without the romance so lust never got in the way of our friendship.

For a number of years after graduating from the Royal College of Music I’d travelled the world singing professionally before I decided to please my father and go back to University to start the process of getting a “real” job. Ann knew that I had sung professionally and she asked if I would sing at her wedding. Later it turned out that the vicar wouldn’t marry them in church because Ann was divorced, but he would bless the union after a registry office marriage. It seemed a very complicated way of doing things to me, but plans for the happy couple went ahead.

On Friday night, the week before the wedding, the vicar called a rehearsal of the blessing ceremony which required the wedding party to be at the church. They’d also asked me along; apparently the choirmaster had power of veto over any music performed in the church and I had to satisfy him that I could sing, especially as I was not going to be accompanied but would be performing a capella. The audition wasn’t going to be a problem, but it poured cold water on my plans for the evening with a very attractive young woman from a local estate agency.

It was really annoying; the estate agent was tall with long brown hair, not classically beautiful and a little plump for many tastes, but she had something about her that said any man lucky enough to be naked in the same room as her was going to have a great time. I had been fantasising about how her sizeable tits would feel wrapped around my cock, and how they’d swing beneath her as I pumped my prick into what I suspected would be a particularly luscious pair of pussy lips and finally I was convinced that it was going to happen that night. I called her and explained and she was not impressed. The call ended on a slightly sour note with me promising to get to her as soon as possible that evening and her telling me not to bother.

So I wasn’t feeling very generous about the whole thing when I arrived at the church and was introduced to the wedding party. They did their bit as I did a few vocal exercises and warmed my voice up outside and then sulked at the back of the gallery above the rear of the nave where I’d be singing. The vicar said “…And at this point I’ll take the happy couple into the vestry at the side here where they can have a few moments to compose themselves out of view of the congregation and there will be some music?” He ended on a questioning note and peered up into the balcony towards me.

This was obviously my cue and I rose, anchored myself to provide a secure foundation for the voice and inhaled. As I hit the first note the stupid old fart of a choirmaster interrupted in a quavering voice: “Now you have to be careful with the acoustics in this church, especially when singing from up here. You know I’d far rather you sang from the choir stalls and I could keep you on track if you would let my organist accompany you…”

He must have seen something unpleasant in my eyes because his voice just sort of dried up. If he didn’t realise that I had assessed the acoustics of the place within 30 seconds of coming up here and make a mental note that I’d have to go really easy with the tempo then he hadn’t listened to Ann telling him of my experience. What was he anyway? Just a small country parish choirmaster, whereas I had experience of singing all over the world with some of the best chorales going! I didn’t say anything to him, but glared at him until he backed off.

I inhaled again and sang. As I supported the breath on my diaphragm I deliberately let the power feed into my voice and I filled the church with the aria Ann had asked for. It was a very controlled, note perfect rehearsal and I have to say that I was quite pleased with myself. At the end of it I turned to the choirmaster and said “I don’t think the acoustics will be much of a problem do you?” He mumbled something and retreated down the balcony.

After the rehearsal I was hoping to get going and maybe retrieve something from my aborted evening with the estate agent. If she had had to work late maybe she’d still be at the office. On the way out of the church, my mind filled with visions of how her long hair would look cascaded over her shoulders as she knelt before me with her lips wrapped around my meat, her back narrowing to her waist and then flaring out above her naked buttocks, Ann stopped me. “I thought you were going to hit old Derek when he started on you.”

“Pompous old git!” I replied. “Still, at least he knows his high musical standards will be upheld” and we laughed. Although I was talking to Ann, my attention had been caught by one of her bridesmaids. She had permed, or at least very curly dark brown hair with one narrow streak of emerald green in it. Her eyes were a startling green, enhanced by the half hidden streak in her hair and she had the most gorgeous smile. Ann introduced me to her, saying “This is my next door neighbour, Tina”.

It turned out that Tina was local, having grown up in the same village that she and Ann still lived in. The choirmaster had terrorised her and many generations of local children and she was delighted that I’d not shown him any deference at all. She was also very complimentary about my singing and this prompted the rest of the group to say similar things. Tina was slim, in many ways the opposite of the estate agent that I’d just been day dreaming about. She was wearing an expensive looking dress and was obviously dressed for a night out, rather than an appointment with the vicar. Her lipstick was a bright red pout in the middle of her face and she oozed sex appeal.

I was about to make my excuses and leave with the other men who had all headed for their cars leaving Ann and a group of her girlfriends in the porch of the church when Ann said “You know tonight is my hen night and I wondered if you’d like to join us?”

She indicated her friends. They were all women, and I was about to decline when she continued “I know its really a girl’s night out, but you are one of my closest friends and I’d really like you to be there with me. After all, who’s going to pour me into a taxi and get me safely home after I get drunk?”

I couldn’t refuse and resigned myself to an evening of silliness and drunken women.

However, things started to look up as I got into the back of a taxi that was waiting to take us back to the city. I sat by the back door and Tina rushed through the door after me and sat on my lap, leaving her friends to get in the other side. We ignored the driver’s grumbles and all six of us squeezed in. It was really squashed and there wasn’t much room to move. Tina arranged herself so that she was facing the outside of the car, with her back to the other girls on the back seat. Once she had got comfortable she looked down at me with a playful smile on her face. Ann climbed into the front seat and the taxi driver, still grumbling, started driving.

There was the expected banter amongst the girls and Tina joined in. I noticed however that she kept her eyes on me. As the car went round a bend in the road she turned her body a little further towards me and I distinctly felt her rub her breast against my face. I felt myself start to blush and looked up at her. She replied to something Ann had said and then as she caught my eye, rubbed her tit against my cheek again and squirmed on my lap.

Instantly I forgot all about the estate agent and reappraised my situation. It was a Friday, I didn’t have to be in the office tomorrow and I had a hot piece of very attractive female flesh on my lap sending quite unmistakable signals direct to my groin. Drink would be taken throughout the evening… and the green in her hair certainly hinted at a slightly wild side. Things were definitely looking better. Tina saw that I had got the message and she giggled, her white teeth showing through the bright red of her lipstick.

My cock received the signals loud and clear and I felt it stir. Obviously I wasn’t the only one to feel it because Tina’s mouth opened in an “O” of mock surprise and she squirmed again. She took her hand off the grab handle above the taxi’s door and put it on mine, raising them both to her breast. She firmly pressed my warm hand against the shapely mound and through the fabric of her dress I could feel the pattern of lace on her bra. As the taxi bumped over the country roads I could feel her breast jiggling in my hand and I felt the stiffening nipple beneath my massaging palm. For the rest of the journey Tina ground herself down onto my painfully hard cock as I moulded her tit and stimulated her nipple.

When we got to the club everyone got out of the taxi. After Tina got off me I almost fell out, trying to rearrange my clothes to hide my erection. Released from the pressure of Tina’s weight on it my dick seemed determined to burst out of my trousers. I managed to close my jacket unobtrusively across my groin whilst Tina looked on and giggled. No one else seemed to notice, and we went into the club.

A crowd of Ann’s girlfriends were waiting for us in the bar area and insisted that we each had to down three drinks immediately in order to catch up with them. Everyone was light heartedly determined that Ann should have a good night and there was a real party atmosphere in the place. A few drinks and some dances later and I had discovered that Tina had a boyfriend that Ann described as a criminal waste of oxygen. One of the other girls had chimed in with “Yeah, he’s so lazy he’d rather watch Linda Lovelace get fucked on video than actually make an effort to get his cock out and give Tina a proper seeing to!”

This was greeted with raucous laughter from the whole group and I saw Tina blush slightly, but she looked me calmly in the eye. The conversation continued at high volume; I’ve often noticed that when you get a group of women together and talk moves to sex they can be just as coarse as men, if not more so. This evening was no exception and Tina was bombarded with suggestions of what to do, how to do it and even with what, if her man wasn’t up to keeping her satisfied. Eventually the subject was changed when another round of drinks arrived.

It seemed that the group drink that night was to be Southern Comfort. It also seemed that Tina had a real taste for the stuff, swallowing most of her drinks in two gulps. After several drinks she grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor. It was pretty dark and couples were dancing to a jukebox. It seemed that most of them didn’t care what the music was, they just sort of huddled together in pairs and slowly turned around in their own particular space.

While we danced I discovered that under the dress Tina really did have a great figure. There were no “foundation garments” holding things in or up, just some smooth feeling knickers and a lacy bra covering her small tits. I had already discovered that they felt entirely natural, and they fitted my hands perfectly. Beneath them she had a girlish slim waist which was supported on slim but womanly hips. All the proportions seemed just right and my roaming hands delivered a mental picture of her taut body to my mind.

At one stage as we danced to a slow number on the dark dance floor I could feel her groin rubbing across my raging hard on and her breasts against my chest as I cupped her arse in my hands. I squeezed one cheek and she looked up and slowly moved her mouth up to mine. What a kiss; it was so gentle that her lips barely grazed mine as she slithered her tongue into my mouth but it certainly wasn’t lacking in passion. Incredibly she didn’t close her eyes as we kissed but maintained eye contact as her tongue explored my mouth. It was a real turn on and something like electricity passed between our eyes. She moved her hand from around my neck and slid it between our bodies, pressing it against the obvious bulge in my trousers. I felt her giggle through the kiss and couldn’t stop myself laughing with her.

The evening went on with the girls finding men, dancing with them and drinking and chatting, but the group was fluid with the girls passing men around and no obvious attachments or jealousies arose. The only pairing that remained throughout the night was Tina & I. I noticed that without anyone saying anything Ann was never left alone and someone always made sure that her drink was never empty. Of course that meant that everyone had to keep pace with Ann and she was determined to get drunk. It was her ambition, she said, to wake up tomorrow afternoon with an enormous hangover!

The alcohol had taken some of the edge off; I knew that I was well over the limit to drive, but I didn’t feel drunk just nicely insulated. Tina found us a space at the back of the booth near the dance floor that we had taken as our group headquarters and she arranged me in the corner. No one was paying us much attention as we kissed again, most of them either deep in drunken conversation or in clinches of their own.

The club manager, who knew Ann, had joined us by now and was talking to her. He had brought a bottle of Southern Comfort and a supply of ice with him and was liberally topping up every one’s glass. Tina broke off our kiss and removed my hand from inside her dress where the alcohol had finally given me the courage to put it. I had been feeling her tits and rubbing her hard nipples through the lacy bra and was about to try and fit my hand under the wispy garment so I was momentarily disappointed when she took hold of my hand and moved her pert tits out of reach. Not for long though; Tina quickly knelt across me, straddling my lap and kissed me again.

Her thighs were stretched on either side of mine and I tasted the alcohol on her lips. I stroked both of her breasts and slid my thumbs over her hard nipples which were clearly pointing through her dress. I wondered if I should try and get a hand back under her dress again when she made the decision for me, although not quite in the way I was hoping. She took my right hand off her breast and guided it towards my cock. I was about to protest; there was no way I was going to feel myself in public, when she bypassed my cock and slid my hand up her dress. My protest died before it passed my lips and she put my hand about mid way up her thigh and left it there, returning her hand to my shoulder.

I didn’t move. My eyes were wide open and I saw the lust in hers as we kissed. She giggled again and jerked her hips twice. That was a clear instruction and I moved my hand slowly up her nylon clad thigh. I found bare flesh; stockings then, not tights and when I found it I playfully snapped her suspender against the soft flesh of her thigh. She jumped and I slowly moved my fingers in small circles over the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thigh and then moved my hand higher, stopping as I met warm, damp cotton.

Hidden from view, under her dress, I ran my fingers over her cotton covered mound, easily finding the groove behind the thin cotton where her lips had parted, causing her to moan. She stopped kissing me and rested her head on my shoulder and began to gently nibble on my earlobe. I repeated my hand’s journey over her mound and clearly felt that the cloth was damp. As my fingers pressed the material into her slit I felt the cotton getting wetter. She breathed into my ear “Mmmmm yesssssss” and slowly moved her hips in the opposite direction to my hand.

After a few minutes I had a wet ear and Tina most definitely had a very wet pussy. I managed to move the gusset of her underwear to one side and slipped my hand past the elastic. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it gave me access to her hot flesh and I was willing to put up with a little discomfort if it let me touch and caress Tina where she so obviously wanted me to.

I have to admit that by this stage I wasn’t necessarily thinking straight; If earlier in the day you had come into my office and asked whether I’d be willing to sit in a public place, even in the club’s darkness, surrounded by people, some of whom worked with me and all of whom knew where I worked, and put my hands inside the underwear of a woman that I’d never met before, I would have emphatically refused. As it was, there and then, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be doing unless it plunging my hard cock deep into the place currently covered by my hand. So much for respectability!