Rambling Rose

British English, which could go in half a dozen different categories.

I'm not claiming this is unique. But I've never read anything with a theme quite like this.

Rambling Rose

He zipped up his chinos and his heart sank. His mum had ironed them and there was a sharp crease front and back; he preferred them to be treated like jeans. Served him right; at 20 he should do his own laundry. He put on his cream shirt and new tweed jacket and checked the mirror. Actually he looked pretty cool after all; this would do nicely. No need to shave; tonight he'd try the manly stubble look.

He didn't know Jeff well, but knew where he lived. A friend of his had said it would be fine if he went along to Jeff's Friday night house party; the more the merrier. He'd probably know a few others there and, with the help of his new jacket, he hoped to score. He hadn't had sex in ages.

***

He arrived about eight and met his friend Mike, shook hands with Jeff and handed over a bottle of wine. He knew most of the other guys drank beer, but he liked wine. He hung his jacket up in the hallway; nobody stole your clothes at a house party. In the kitchen he opened the wine, poured a glass; and stepped into the party. And there she was -- the girl of his dreams - chatting to two other girls. She was wearing a summer dress with buttons from top to bottom. It was white and covered with tiny pink roses which were linked with green fronds. He thought she was probably braless and vowed to find out who she was. Mike was up dancing so he asked the host Jeff if he knew the name of the girl in the rose patterned dress. He didn't; he knew the other two girls but the pretty one must have just tagged along with them.

"A bit like you did with Mike!" he said. "I'm pretty sure she brought her husband too but don't know which one he is. I confess I don't know half the people here."

He decided to go and ask her while she was away from her husband, so got another glass of wine to boost his confidence. It was a party after all; meeting new people is what parties are for. In the kitchen he drank half the glass and returned to the fray. But some guy had joined the other two girls and was chatting to them. His dream girl was now sitting next to her old man.

"So how do you like the party?" asked Jeff.

As he was one of the unknowns, he felt obliged to chat. After a boring summary of the merits of Californian versus European wines, Jeff finally left. Now he could speak to her. Shit! The girl in rose covered dress was dancing with one of her friends. Next, his mate loomed up and also wanted to chat, but he didn't know the woman's name either. Ten minutes later, still talking to Mike, she walked past them on her way to the kitchen and smiled at him!

It was time to meet her.

"Sorry mate, I need a piss."

He left and paid a brief visit to the bathroom. But when he got back he was just in time to see her sitting with the same man again. You could tell they were married just by looking at them. He was slumped back on one end of a sofa and she was gently removing a glass of whisky from his hand before he spilled it. There was far too much in the glass. She put it on a nearby table as her husband seemed to doze off. OK, she was married and that was a pity. But she seemed to be sneering at her drunken old man so this might still be his chance. He'd ask her for a dance; she'd probably be glad of the distraction. He grabbed his wine and drained it. But halfway across the room, another guy -- it was the one who'd been chatting to her friends -- was holding out his hand. She put down her bottle of Corona, smiled and took his hand. She got up and they started dancing. Fuck it; this was turning out to be a night of bad luck!

"You fancy her don't you?"

Mike appeared at his shoulder again.

"I do. I imagine every man does."

"You know she's married."

"Yes, I just watched her husband pass out."

"Yeah, he's a hopeless drunk all right. She doesn't mind putting it about a bit. She'll fuck anyone with a pulse!"

"She will?"

"Sure; she doesn't get much from her old man so she's always on the prowl. You should have made your move sooner; she fancies that tall guy."

She was now dancing a slow one and the foreplay was beginning. He bent to whisper something and his lips touched her ear. Then he held her closer and his hands moved over her buttocks. As he squeezed them, she gripped his arse and pulled him against her.

"Maybe you could cut in."

"No, you only cut in when you know the girl."

He went back to the kitchen and poured himself another wine. But after one sip he left it; he didn't want to be here any more. He retrieved his jacket and quietly stepped out the front door. He would go down to the main road and hail a taxi. There was plenty of time to get to the hotel; they always had dancing on a Friday. If he didn't get lucky, he could always get drunk. Then he heard a scraping noise at the rear -- someone was trying to be quiet. He crept along between the parked cars and the side of the house, and peeped round the corner. Somebody had just sneaked out through the patio door and was sliding it shut carefully. He could just make out the tall dancer; probably come out for a smoke. Should he go back in and see if his pink rose woman was now 'available'? But the heavy curtains moved and she stepped out as well. The tall guy leaned past her and closed the door quietly.

He watched from the corner as she threw her arms around Mr Tall. He leaned against the back wall and she squatted in front of him. He undid his belt as she pulled his zip down. His dick sprang free and was shoved straight into her mouth. His jeans slid down his legs, and she deep-throated him.

"God that feels good." he said..

"Mmm." she replied.

After a few minutes of sucking action, he was clearly reaching the point of no return. He pulled her head away.

"Stand up; I've got to have you."

They swapped places and the woman leaned on the wall. He lifted her dress, knelt in front of her and nuzzled his face into her panties.

"Mmm, roses." he said.

'Roses?' thought the voyeur. "The woman smells of roses?'

The tall guy yanked her panties down. They caught on the heel of one shoe and she lifted her leg to shake it off. He tugged harder and the elastic stretched out as though unwilling to depart. He gave them a final yank and her shoe fell off. The panties sprang away to one side and landed at the corner of the house. Grabbing her buttocks he lifted her and she reached down to help him enter. Then they were fucking up against the wall; her hands behind his neck and her legs wrapped round his waist.

Their observer looked down at his feet. Her panties were right in front of him. He slipped one hand into view and snatched them up. She was having a muffled orgasm as he beat a hasty retreat down to the road to find a taxi.

Back behind the house, it wasn't long before the rutting couple stopped. Still holding her up against the wall, the tall guy climaxed, and she bit his neck, moaning. He lifted her off and set her gently back on the patio. She bent and sucked his dick clean.

"Got a tissue or something?" she asked.

"No sorry -- haven't you?"

"What in this little dress? Where would I put it? Where are my knickers? I'll have to use them."

They moved to the corner but couldn't find them.

"Maybe they went under this car." he suggested, and stooped to look under it.

"That's my favourite pair; surely you didn't throw them that far?"

"I didn't throw them at all; they just sort of jumped off your foot."

She lifted her dress away from her and reached up her legs. Then scooped up some of his jism and licked it off her palm.

"That'll have to do. A swig of Corona will take the smell off my breath."

"What about your panties?"

"I'll just have to go home without them; the old man will never notice. It won't be the first time!"

***

At the Rosebowl Hotel, he paid the taxi driver, nodded at the doorman, and went in. Once he'd got a glass of red in his hand, he surveyed the crowd. There was lots of dancing and groping as usual. The music was loud and thumping. He was still half hard from his voyeur adventures; that had been the first time he'd ever watched anyone fucking. OK, he wished he had been the one to get inside her. And it had been too dark to see much detail. But it was incredibly exciting none-the-less. He'd actually smelled their arousal! He needed to go to the toilet and rearrange his underwear. He approached a table with a solitary girl.

"Hi, could you keep an eye on my drink for a moment while I go to the Gents'?"

"Sure, but only because I like your jacket!"

As he approached the toilets, he heard a roar from the Rosebud Suite. The door was closed and there was a sign on it proclaiming 'No Admittance. Private Party'.

As he was washing his hands, he remembered the panties and took them out of his pocket for a good look. No doubt who these belonged to; they were covered with the same interconnected roses as the pattern on her dress! What woman wore a dress that matched her underwear? This was real style! 'Well hard luck Rosie!' he thought. 'I've got them now!' He sniffed the cotton inner -- god she must have been gagging for it; they were still wet. And her scent was so strong he was getting hard again. He ventured a little lick and the door burst open. A man walked in so he pulled them away from his mouth and thrust them back in his pocket. The guy looked at him oddly as left -- he'd probably seen.

"Thanks." he said.

"No problem," said the girl, "perhaps you can do the same for me later."

This was promising; she was already letting him know he could join her. So he sat with her. She was a real beauty; perhaps his luck was changing. She wore a beige business suit. The skirt came to just above her pretty knees but the jacket was rather severe. She noticed his appraisal.

"Yes, I came here straight from work." she said. "I started off in the Rosebud Suite but it wasn't really my scene."

"It says Private Party on the door.

"Yes. One of the factory floor girls is getting married next week. They hired the room and are waiting for the strippers to arrive. It was getting too rowdy for me so I left. They won't miss me; they don't really need managers there."

As if to confirm she was telling the truth, the roar from behind the door drowned out the dance music.

"Off! Off! Off!"

He smiled at her.

"I hope that's an invitation to the strippers, and not the bride-to-be!" he joked.

"Who knows?" she replied. "From what I hear she might well be going home with no knickers on. Ooh, what's that in your pocket?"

Before he could stop her, she grabbed a corner of the panties and pulled them out.

"Don't tell me these are yours! Did you take them off in the toilets? Are you some sort of tranny?"

"No, I ..."

"No, they're not yours." she affirmed, holding them to her nose. "And you didn't steal them off a washing line either!"

He'd never seen a woman sniff another's panties. For a moment he thought she was going to lick them.

"Look I ..."

"You don't need to explain. You've already had some girl tonight and you kept these as a memento. You must have done a good job getting her warmed up; I can still smell her juices ... they're rather nice actually!"

He slumped back in his chair. There was no way out of this; he'd just have to lie and go along with whatever she said.

"Did you go down her?"

"Yes."

What else could he say?

"Did you shoot your load inside her, or cum in her mouth?"

"Um, I came in her mouth."

"Nice, and now -- out in the Gents' -- you've washed your dick. And the wine has taken her smell away from your breath, right?"

"Yes."

She put the panties in her jacket pocket and stared at him.

"How about I come to the point as you're apparently straight? I could have left that party and just gone home. But here I am, my other half away till tomorrow, sitting here by myself. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking the girl with those rose covered panties went home without hers. The party girl next door might also end up with no underwear. So perhaps you might as well?"

"Good guess; let's do a deal knicker boy. I'm married and looking for a one night stand while my Joe's away. It's not half nine yet so how about we finish our drinks and you take me home. You must make sure of two things though. I must not get into any trouble on the way home. But when we arrive, you must make sure I get into lots of trouble. You said you went down on some girl tonight, so I expect you to do the same for me. Once I've cum, you can do what you like, as long as you finish in my mouth!"

"That sounds great!"

She crossed her legs -- no tights -- and blatantly flashed him.

"Mine are a rather pretty lilac colour. If you'd like to add them to your collection, finish off your drink and take me to my house."

This was exactly what he'd come here for. He simply hadn't expected it to be so easy; this kind of thing only happened in erotic stories. He'd fanatasised about women like this, but never thought he'd ever meet one. God, he hadn't danced with her or even bought her drink!

***

When they got to her bedroom, he stripped off in record time, but she was quicker and flopped back onto the bed. She lifted her knees back to her shoulders and reached round with her fingers, stretching her vulva open. When he got his head down there he noticed she was also pulling her buttocks apart. This was a good omen; maybe he was going to get some long-awaited anal sex as well. He licked her cunt lips and sucked on her clit.

"Your chin is bristly."

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologise, I'm just not used to feeling that -- it scratches but it's rather nice."

He licked and sucked some more -- she tasted wonderful -- and tried his luck a bit lower. He wriggled his tongue into her arse and she moaned. As if to confirm it was a moan of pleasure, she pulled her buttocks open even further. He assisted with his thumbs and pushed his tongue in as far as it would go.

"Ooh, you are a naughty man! My Joe never does that!"

Two minutes later she climaxed.

"Now you get to fuck me!" she said. "But there are two conditions. First; do it hard and don't worry about me hurting me or giving me an orgasm -- I usually only manage one. And second; do not cum inside me. You must pull out last moment and cum in my mouth. I can't remember the last time I had a taste of the good stuff!"

What man would refuse such conditions? He climbed aboard and got to work, fucking her hard as requested. Her thighs wrapped around his waist and pulled him in tighter. It wasn't long before he was reaching behind himself and prising her legs off him. She released her grip and he whipped his dick out and straddled her tits. She grabbed his buttocks and pulled him all the way in, and swallowed the lot. It was the most thorough oral he'd ever had and she kept on sucking after he'd unloaded. At first that was exciting but soon it became too much.

"Enough!" he said, pushing her head away. "You'll drain my balls!"

"Sorry, it's been a while since I gobbled such a big one!"

The throbbing sensation made him want to piss, and he found her bathroom. Examining his dick, he was convinced the bell end was going to be bruised. Who got a love bite on their dick? He felt rather proud of himself.

While he was out of sight, she retrieved the rosy panties from her jacket pocket. She sniffed them again and this time she did lick them. Then they got stuffed under her pillow.

"When you're done in there, check the bathroom cabinet and see if there's a bottle of lube. It's only ten thirty and I want my arsehole reaming at least twice or I won't make you any breakfast!"

"OK."

He found some and, despite his aching dick, he felt that familiar tingling again. At last, he was going to fuck an arsehole! This woman was insatiable! He smothered his dick with the oil and immediately felt much better. His erection was returning. He went back to the bedroom, taking the lubricant with him.

"Ah, I see you found it." she said. "I'm going to need a lot of that or your monster cock will do me some damage."

This was all his Christmases come at once; a woman who not only complimented him on the size of hs dick, but wanted her arse fucking too. Little did he know it, but the fantasy was over.

Downstairs, they heard the front door open. There was a brief hum of traffic and the unmistakable thump of a suitcase being put down.

"Jesus!" she whispered. "Joe's back early! Grab all your stuff and hide in another bedroom. Wait there and try to get out while I distract him. And take that lube with you!"

He tried to remain calm and quickly gathered up his clothes. This Joe character was moving about quietly down there; probably not wanting to wake his wife. He slipped into the bedroom furthest away from from the main one and closed the door. Then he got dressed as fast as he could. Surely his heartbeat could be heard all over the house? He listened at the door and held his breath, aware his dick was coating his underpants with anal lubricant. Right now, he didn't care, as long as it stayed in one piece.

Meanwhile she straightened the bed and fluffed up the pillows. The room smelled of sex and she could but hope that her spouse didn't notice. She needed to clean up her well fucked face but didn't have time to go to the bathroom. So she wiped herself clean with the panties and tucked them back under the pillow. She slipped back under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp. Thank God she'd made that guy cum in her mouth; Joe would murder her if a stranger's cum was found inside her. She chewed the insides of her cheeks to produce some saliva and swallowed it, hoping it took the taste away. Then lay back with her eyes shut and waited in the dark.

Downstairs, underwear was unpacked and put in the washing machine; silently - the wife had probably gone to bed early. Then Joe crept up the stairs. In the bedroom more clothes were dropped on the floor.

"You don't fool me. I know you're awake; the bedside lamp is still warm!"

It was turned on and she opened her eyes. Bedclothes were pulled back and another mouth was licking and sucking her cunt -- this one without bristles.

"Mmm, you're nice and wet. Miss me did you? Been playing with yourself?"

"Yes, a little; you're back a day early."

A body moved up the bed and her mouth was kissed. This was the second time she'd tasted her own juices tonight.

There was some murmuring from the bedroom and the visitor opened the door a crack. He was tired and didn't want to fall asleep in here. He slipped out and tip-toed to the stairs and heard a gruff voice: "You like tasting your own cunt don't you?" Better get going; he'd been a voyeur already tonight -- time to get out of the house. He crept down and headed for the front door; then stumbled over a suitcase. He froze on the spot. But nobody seemed to have heard him. He got up and slipped out into the night.

"What the fuck's this?"

The light was turned on and rose patterned panties were held in the air.

"You bitch!" shouted Jo. "You've had another woman in here, haven't you?"

She sniffed the gusset.

"There's even lipstick on them. And it's your lipstick; I bought this for you! Who did you go down on?"

Jo jumped out of bed and looked down at her naked wife.

"What did you do? Go round to that lesbian club again?"

She wasn't sure whether to admit it, or tell the truth. Of the two possibilities, fucking a man might go down worse.

"I'm sorry; I missed you."

"You two-timing slut! I forgave you last time but you just can't stay away from strange pussy can you?"

Jo sniffed the panties, crossed to the window and opened it. She scrunched the offending item up into a ball and threw it out. Then she rifled through her accessories drawer and found a leather belt.