'so'

I work all over the world on a security consultancy basis. Jules works locally, and specialises in getting people into work, not employment recruitment, but more holistic and motivational, but then she's very, very different and unconventional in just about everything she does. , from her ink, to her previously strong bi-sexual relationships. Well, let's be honest, lesbian relationships of a few years ago. Her biker chick side surfaces occasionally as well, she loves her leather; and looks spectacular in it too.

"Look, I have a colleague I need to meet, she's in town for a regional meeting, and I promised her a drink," she said, as she leaned across the table towards me.

"Well you must meet then," I replied, finishing off the last of a very good seafood linguine.

"If you want to call round later, you know I'll be in and up till around midnight, got to finish the papers on that case I'm looking at."

"Knew you wouldn't mind, and I will call later."

"Where are you meeting, just in case I need to come and get you?"

"Oh, Fifty Thousand Postcards, it's near her hotel."

I just love that place, and they sell Weston's organic cider on draught, as well as Fruili fruit beer; the food's great as well.

"Have a good time pet," she leans in again and kisses me, her tongue invading me, making my cock twitch in unison to her tongue thrusting.

I paid the bill, and left the restaurant, walking through to my place on the Avenue above the Chine. The house is in a very select haven of six others, but very private, despite being a sort of courtyard setting; this is as good a base as any. No one can see their neighbour's doors, and no one has noise issues either. I am very surprised at that; considering how vocal Jules is when we are fucking and playing.

I got straight into my work and settled down to read the new case papers for Peru and the Philippines. Interesting that countries like that have heard of what we do, the business of national security is smaller, and closer knit than you can imagine. It's like a village now we have the net, and recommendations are everything. By midnight, my eyes were starting to feel gritty, so I packed the papers into my safe and made ready for bed. I was asleep for around ten minutes when I heard the key in the lock. I stayed where I was because Jules has her own key; comes and goes as she pleases.

After another few minutes, I heard the Bose being turned on, and the sound of the kettle boiling. My living space is large and open plan, light oak floors, and genuine Afghan carpets, a large leather suite and a light oak refectory table, and chairs to divide the kitchen from the rest of the room. I shifted position in bed and got comfortable again, then slid away to a light sleep.

After thirty minutes or so, I stirred, got up, used the loo, and then opened the window. The music was still on, and I could hear noises, not talk, but noises in the living room. I wandered through to see If Jules had fallen asleep on the sofa, after her boozy evening.They were her noises, guttural and deep. I pushed open the door and there they were, Jules sprawled on the sofa, legs wide apart, skirt round her waist, her firm luscious breasts out of their usual quarter cup bra, and her nipples hugely swollen and aroused. Another woman was between her legs, and obviously using a half bottle of champagne to fuck Jules soaking pussy. Her tongue was busy too; no wonder her nipples looked so swollen, with the attention from that other mouth.

I could see the other woman was in her very early forties, with shortish heavy blonde hair, and obviously having the time of her life. She was also half-naked, hold ups, very high heels, and wearing some sort of sharp designer suit, with nothing at all in the way of underwear anywhere. The skirt had ridden over her thighs, and bunched just on her buttocks. I could see she was smooth and very wet, and pierced with several heavy gold rings on her swollen pussy lips.

No! There was something else too, I swallowed hard, a little bell - I thought. No wonder the music playing didn't match the sounds I was hearing. She has a pussy bell, well fuck me!

I've heard about it but never seen one. I grinned at my little secret but stayed quiet, and moved to the big leather chair and just curled up on it.

"Only trying to learn, and broaden my horizons, Your Honour," I remember thinking.

The girls were engrossed in each other, and didn't even register my presence. Jules gets very vocal when she is being fucked; and she does love different means and methods of achieving her multiple orgasms. She also gets excessively wet, but as I looked at the floor, I remember thinking that the champagne bottle obviously wasn't empty when they had started playing with each other. Fortunately, I oil the oak floor once a month; so I knew it wouldn't stain or watermark. I could tell Jules was approaching orgasm by her frenzied thrashing, and disjointed shouts. She sounds like someone with Tourette's when she's going to have a big cum, I kid you not; and so it started...

"Fuck, fuck, cum, fuck meeee, cunt, bastard, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck," and then she blew.

No, definitely not champagne. It was all Jules' cum juices jetting out of her pussy, straight into the face of the woman fucking her. Really hard hot spurts and I should know. I've been on the receiving end more than a few times. The fuck juices spurted out of her open pussy and straight on to the face of the woman; like water from a garden hose.

She reacted unexpectedly; she leaned into the stream and opened her mouth so it cascaded in; and she swallowed, and kept swallowing while bucking her own body to Jules's spastic movements. The bell started tinkling furiously, as the woman's left hand plunged into her own pussy. At least three fingers were working overtime, and the gold labia rings were jangling too. Jules was thrashing around on the sofa, as the woman continued to fuck her with the champagne bottle. I could tell this was far from over, so I did the only thing I could; I settled back into the chair and just started caressing my erection gently...