You sit beside me at a table in the crowded pub, telling me in vivid detail about your latest sexual exploits, just loud enough for me and no one else to hear. How you came up behind the young handyman that was repairing a broken window while he was in the bathroom taking a piss. You walked into the bathroom just as his urine had started to flow, reached around him and took his cock in your hands, aiming him, badly at first, splashing piss on the seat and floor, but getting the hang of it by the end.
You put your hand on my thigh beneath the table and lean close as you explain how you turned him around after he had finished pissing and spat your saliva onto the end of his stiffening prick. Your hand moves onto the hardness in my pants as you describe taking him in your mouth, coaxing him to rock hardness. Tracing a line down his shaft with the tip of your tongue. Taking his balls gently into your mouth as you grip him with one hand, pulling back his foreskin. The end of his cock glistening with pre-cum.
"I don't have any underpants on," I inform you, as you move your hand rhythmically over the ridge in my trousers. You pause a moment, glancing around the busy room before reaching up and undoing my zipper. You slide your hand inside and grasp my shaft, hot and hard. "Oh fuck, I want that in my mouth," you say. "Maybe later," I say. "Right now you're going to wank me slowly until I cum into your hand, and then you're going to lick it up."
Without a word, you begin moving your hand slowly beneath the table in the crowded and noisy room. I turn my body and lean over the table a little so no one can actually see the action. "Tell me more about this guy," I say and you continue the story.
You describe how your full lips enveloped the head of his cock. How you slowly took his entire length into the back of your throat. How he grabbed the sides of your head to firmly thrust his last few centimetres into you. It was at that exact moment that your husband arrived home. You had timed it to perfection. He walked into the bathroom and when he saw you, his mouth fell open and he dropped his bag to the floor.
"Get on the floor and eat me," you instruct him.
I can feel myself begin the slow build towards climax as you explain how your husband came over behind you, as you deep-throated the handyman. You raised yourself slightly in your kneeling position and opened your legs up so your husband, who was lying on his back on the floor, could slide his head under your ass towards your dripping wet pussy. You described how he lapped at your cunt while you brought your young man towards orgasm.
Meanwhile, under the pub table, your hand quickens on my cock, and I can feel myself getting close. You describe how you came hard when the young guy withdrew his cock from your throat and sent his hot jizzum shooting across your face. At that very moment, I begin to spurt my own cum into your hand, which is cupped over the head of my prick.
When I'm spent, you slowly bring your hand out from under the table, semen dripping from your knuckles, raise it to your mouth and begin to lick my warm syrupy goodness.
"Your turn," you say when you're done, and lean back in your seat and take a drink from your wine glass, legs opening almost imperceptibly. The skirt you're wearing is knee-length and loose. "I'm not wearing panties either."
I pull my chair in a little closer so I can reach you and create a screen from prying eyes. You sit forward too and shuffle towards me. Placing a hand on your knee, I begin my story. This one was from the archives, but I think about it frequently and it still makes me hard. I'm pretty sure you'll like it.
I'm on the bus with my girlfriend, heading back to her house in the Canberra suburbs. We're only 18. She lives with her parents, and neither of us drives. Canberra is a pain to get around by bus. The public transport system is crappy. Hardly any services, and they wander all over the place. But this journey is a bit more interesting than most.
We're in the back row. The bus is pretty empty. There's a guy about three rows in front, and a few more people dotted around. We're making out a bit. She's wearing a short wrap-around skirt and a tight tank top... no panties. Things are getting pretty hot, and we're getting each other worked up. I'm running my hand up and down her thighs, touching her pussy, slipping my fingers inside her as she moans. She's very wet and very keen, and I'm practically bursting out of my pants.
In the pub I move my hand up your inner thigh. When I reach your pussy I'm unsurprised to find you extremely wet. I begin to massage your clit with my thumb as the story continues.
The bus rumbles on through drab streets. She's rubbing my cock through my pants as I work her with my fingers, but she really wants to feel my flesh in her hand, and I want that too very badly. I pop my top button and she undoes the zipper, then reaches into my underpants to wrap her fingers around my rock-hard shaft. She puts her hand up her skirt and dips her fingers into her wetness. With a glistening hand, she rubs her juices all over my cock. We're both so ready.
