No Other Place To Go

I'd been in the same building before but this was different. I had been called to do some actual work for the volunteer bureau but had also been severely warned by my wife, the co-ordinator, that this client may be difficult.

It was the same building with the same scruffy exterior door as before but this flat was completely different inside, it was as neat as a pin, a veritable oasis. Normally these flats were old and tired, but this one had been scrubbed clean and probably looked better than it did when it was new.

Justine is tall and sleek and was wearing a thigh length floral summer dress as she greeted me at the door. She has jet black, laser straight and shoulder length hair, a pale complexion and generally takes great care over her appearance. She also wears large round glasses, has the demeanour that would pass her off as a librarian and a graceful elegance in her gait.

I had been warned not to use toilet, Justine is recovering from a mild case of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and is very hygiene sensitive.

I came fully tooled up. I had a bag, wipes, overalls, a brush and even spare clothes. I took my shoes off at door and left them in a neat line with the smaller children's shoes along the far wall.

Justine gave me a totally different welcome from the one I had received in the building a few weeks before. She was welcoming and polite. She offered me a cup of coffee and ushered me to sit on the small sofa set at one side of the cosy lounge area.

She has two kids, one a toddler, a girl of about three years old and an infant boy, perhaps six months old. The youngest was asleep in his cot and the small girl was playing quietly and delicately with her dolls in the small and cosy lounge.

The lounge was tidy, almost too tidy. There was scarcely any evidence of the children and their toys. The young girl, Hannah, was squeaky clean and played, making happy humming noises, in front of the large flat screen television.

The flat was hot. It was mid-winter but Justine was wearing a thin cotton summer dress and I was sweltering in my jeans and jumper -- it was like a tropical sauna! I quickly peeled off my jumper and laid it across the back of the sofa.

There was a large and solid coffee table in front on which a tray was placed with a plate full of chocolate biscuits. I gave one to the girl and watched her mother's face sink, guiltily, as crumbs tumbled on to the spotless tiled floor. Justine walked over to the kitchen area, opened a cupboard and produced a hand held vacuum cleaner seemingly without missing a beat in making the coffee.

I was handed an oversized mug, double the size of a normal one. It must have held at least a pint of the warm and sweet beverage.

No sooner had we finished our biscuits as the hand held vacuum was liberally and noisily whooshed over the entire area. Nothing was left out of place for long. I gulped the last of my coffee down, made my excuses and stood to go into the bathroom. It gleamed like new as I entered, belaying its 1960's cheap and cheerful origin.

The job I was there to do was to replace some beading around the bath. Apparently there had been a very small section of black mould. I scanned the along the bath edge for any signs but could barely make any out.

I was hot and peeled off all but my vest and pants in preparation for climbing into my clean white overalls. I had my back to the door as I held the garment open, ready to climb in, but turned as Justine came in almost silently holding a tray with another large mug of coffee and more biscuits.

She hesitated, almost shyly, wearing a slight smile with her mouth half open. It seemed that I had caught her checking me out! Her eyes fixed themselves on the bulge in my pants as I continued to turn. She seemed mesmerised but said nothing as I took a hold of the platter.

She took my jeans and shirt, still warm, and folded them up. I saw her drape them on the back of the sofa, next to my jumper, through the half open door.

I set to work. Just as I had finished the last glug of one cup more coffee arrived, this again in another huge mug. In fact in the hour or so I spent, carefully re-doing the silicone beading, I drank at least three giant mugs.

She popped in every few minutes, seemingly keeping an eye on progress but I convinced myself that she was really making sure that I wasn't leaving too much mess. Every time I just finished one another drink would follow, her timing was impeccable.

"I'm just putting the little one to bed." She said on one visit and then on the next, "Hannah has gone off now, I'll just be tidying the lounge."

I spent longer tidying up than actually doing the job. I swept, brushed, cleaned and polished every surface to my upmost.

"You'll need to leave this for at least 24 hours before you get it wet." I insisted. "I have cleaned up as best I can although not to your high standards I am sure, but do try to leave it alone."

I stood and gathered up the black bin bag in which I had placed the rubbish.

"Got anywhere for this?" I asked holding it out for her to grab. "Can I wash my hands?"

I made for the door and realised that my overalls were probably too dirty for her to bear and so I stood and started to unbutton them. Again she paused in front of me and seemed to enjoy the show as I wriggled out of the top. I waited momentarily for her to turn but she didn't, she stood transfixed. So I thought "what the hell" and slipped the bottom half off, after all she had already seen me stripped down to my undies. At least they were clean on I thought to myself as I folded the overalls up and placed them in my tool bag.

I even took my socks off, just in case any dust was caught on the soles. I looked for my jeans as I went out of the room but they weren't on the back of the sofa. I stepped back into the bathroom to look for the bag with my spare clothes, but that had also gone.

Justine ushered me to her kitchen sink. I was a little uncomfortable in just my underwear. After I washed, desperately trying not to spill any water over the edge, she cleaned and dried the sink fastidiously.

"I'll just check on the kids. Help yourself." She pointed as she whisked into the bedroom closing the door lightly behind her.

I swung and noticed that the room had been decked in black plastic sheeting, bin bags had opened out and spread across almost the entire floor. A long glass of cold beer and a half empty bottle stood in the centre of the low slung coffee table.

I heard the tell tale whizz of the hand held vacuum in the bathroom as I slugged at the cold beer enthusiastically. I sat back, nicely cooled but realised that I was in fairly urgent need of the toilet.

Justine seemed to take an inordinate length of time just checking the kids. I drained the bottle, sat slumped back in the seat and sipped at the last of the cool drink as I heard her re-enter the room from behind me.

"Are they asleep?" I asked without turning around.

"Yes, they'll be away until the morning." She said calmly. "Simon sometimes wakes but by and large he is really good and sleeps for a few hours at a time. They are both good sleepers mercifully." She continued as she shut the door gently and she made her way across the room. I was gawping at the television and concentrating on what to say to excuse myself without appearing rude, after all I really did need the loo.

The fridge door clicked shut and I registered the fizz of another beer bottle being opened. She boldly set it down on the table in front of me, trying to gain my attention.

"Here, have another one." She said in a matter of fact voice as she poured some of the cool liquid into the glass with a series of comforting glugs.

I recovered my concentration, looked up and was stunned to see her standing there smiling and stark naked, all except for her glasses.

"Victoria tells me that you also cater for, er, other needs." She said with a sideways glance.

I was stunned, but not totally surprised, I took a sip of my drink and tried to appear cool and in command.

"Mine are a little unusual. I hope you don't mind."

I thought it rude not to check her out. So I sat and ran my eyes up and down her pale, pert and lean body. She had shaved her cunt bald, except for an extremely neat and pencil thin straight line of finely trimmed black pubes that pointed the way to her smooth opening. Her small, but perfectly formed tits, stuck out invitingly, her nipples stood out proudly, pink and swollen. Her raven black hair had a healthy shine and bounce as she confidently swung back towards the sofa to join me.

The hot flesh of her left thigh pressed gently against mine and I felt the rush of her hot breath against me bare chest. She turned to face me, engaged my glance and pressed her naked breasts against my upper arm whilst she held her cool glass.

She smiled and looked into my eyes as if she wanted to say something but looked down instead and slugged her beer down in almost as few gulps as I did.

She offered me a third but I refused, citing driving but in reality not wanting to over burden my already full bladder any further or indeed delay the sexual feast that lay before me.

"You may have noticed that I have a thing about cleanliness, do you mind if I wash you?" She said plucking up some courage.

I shook my head lamely in acquiescence as if I were obeying some despotic edict. She motioned to me, I stood and she helped me out of my boxers.

"Lie down on the coffee table and I'll wash you." I dumbly complied but winced as the cool surface came into contact with my hot backside.

She went to the sink and filled a small bowl with hot water. She returned and knelt next to me with a flannel and some soap. She opened a clean white towel to reveal a disposable razor.

"I also have a thing about body hair. Can I shave you?" She said holding the pink plastic handle with a wry smile.

Again I nodded dumbly and thought how I might explain this to my wife. Justine shaved me tenderly and expertly. Holding my semi-hard cock up and soaping my ball sack with loving care and caution. She even shaved between my balls and arse, lifting my legs gently and lightly shaving away the fluff.

I lay there and watched, surreally sipping at my beer.

By now I really needed the toilet but was painfully aware not to ask and didn't want to break the mood. I decided to bottle it up and in any case I had heard that a man cumming with a full bladder could be more intense.

She returned to the sink and refreshed the water from the kettle. She swaddled my bald cock with a hot flannel and urged me to down the last my glass of beer. I thought it rude to object but was now in more than dire need of the loo.

She carefully dried me, gazed deep into my eyes and smiled before sinking her gentle and warm mouth over my cock. Her cherry red and full lips circled my end as she drew the tip firmly into her hot orifice.

I found it quite hard to get going, especially as she rested her forehead against my distended bladder. She continued to work hard at my end, drooling and sucking noisily and soon I was hard enough for her to draw on my end and wank me off in earnest.

She ran her teeth under the ridge and made me jump and shudder as she gently nibbled my bulbous end. In turns she pulled at the shaft and licked at the eye, she dribbled saliva down its length and blew warm air over my twitching and swollen phallus. Her eyes were wide with excitement as she increased both her speed and force with hand and mouth.

She worked with gusto. I quickly felt the tell tale tingling in my balls and hoped that my cock wouldn't erupt with piss as she sucked even harder at my tip.

I came with a heavy and loud sigh. I was thankful to see the thick white semen gush in long spurts over her face and into her hot and willing mouth. She swallowed the salty fluid eagerly but I thought I would lose control of my bladder as she sucked every last drop from my twitching tool.

"Sorry." I offered an apology for cumming so fast.

"It's OK. Victoria told me."

I wondered if there wasn't anyone that didn't know about my premature problems.

"My turn," she said as she stood and moved to the top of the table where I lay with my head and shoulders at the corner edge. She squatted down over my head and lowered her smooth cunt lips to my face. I opened my mouth and pushed out my tongue. As soon as it hit home she began to grind down and rub herself off against my face.

She gyrated her hips back and forth with a deft flexibility that might flatter a belly dancer. She held my head as if it were a rugby ball ready for a scrum allowing the only lightest of touches of my lips against her tender inner flesh as my extended tongue readily waggled within her.

The smoothness of her pussy against my face and her scent was intoxicating. The wet walls of her cunt gripped at my probing tongue, trying to draw it in beyond its anchor. I did my best to beat and slurp it around inside her hot and slippery canal.

As she became more aroused her whimpers echoed around the small room and her grip on my head tightened. Her grinding was so severe as to numb my lips and my mouth tingle.

Without warning she dropped my head, it hit the table surface with quite a rap and stunned me momentarily. She instinctively moved her hands up her body until one came to rest at her left breast. I looked up at her face, contorted with pleasure, as she started to tweak and pull at the small nub.

Her other hand pulled at her cunt. It stretched her opening to reveal the swollen pink button of her clit protruding from its hidden and moist hood. At first she stroked at it lazily with a long and elegant finger but gradually her ardour built.

I gazed up, my eyes locked on her expression, as she gently pressured the bump of her tender hood in time with the rapier like thrusts of her hips across my tingling face.

God she was wet. Her cum welled out and was running down my chin and neck. Not that I minded, not at all, she tasted and smelled divine. I had virtually forgotten my toilet plight. For a few moments I savoured the wind rush of her delicate hands waving at her excited snatch before she sunk back onto my eager lips.

Her breathing became heavier, her thrusts more urgent and she lengthened her push. The tip of my nose was almost drawn into her sopping wet and gaping cunt with each rapid and extended stroke. My face was awash with her sticky cum as she continued to ride it hard and with increasing speed.

She came with a series of hissing pants. Her whole body seemed to quiver. She bore down in time with each deeper pant as her orgasm seemed to intensify. My lips were numb and my nose was virtually flattened against her throbbing and pulsating pussy as she flooded my face with her cum.

I closed my eyes and listened as the plastic sheeting cracked, as if being pelted by a torrent of rain drops. I jumped as I felt a tide of warm fluid splash against my forehead and run down my scalp.

Justine shook as if in a trance as cum jetted out of her in a series of broad streams, over my face and on to the plastic sheeting. I looked up at her face, she wore a fixed stare, her eyes were rolled back in their sockets and a clicking sound came from her throat.

She cried out with each gush of her juices, pumped out from her convulsing pussy in stronger and in more defined spurts, until finally the flow diminished.

I tried to capture as much of each jetting stream in my mouth as I could without success. Each pulse arced and spurted noisily over my gaping mouth as I struggled to time my movements. It went in my eyes and over my head, anywhere but in my expectant mouth.

I was soaked and there were puddles on the sheeting under my head. My hair was wet to the roots and I smelled of her sweet musk. I panted, she panted and we lay motionless momentarily.

"Wow" was all I could think of to say as I looked up at her beaming and flushed face. "Did you enjoy than then?"

"You don't mind? It put my boyfriend off and drove him away." She said as she glanced at my flaccid tool.

"Not at all". In fact it had really turned me on but I was absolutely desperate for a pee. It was that stopped me getting an immediate hard on but I couldn't find a way to tell her.

"Do you always....."

"Cum like that?" She finished my sentence. "Not always. It started when I had Hannah and looks like it has got more intense since Simon. I think I squirted more than usual because I haven't had sex in such a long time." Justine stood and stared down longingly at my sorry member.

"I'm sorry but I have just got to go." I said looking at the toilet door.

"I want you to piss on me". Justine said in an enquiring, almost pleading tone, seeing how far I would go. Her deep blue eyes looked deep into my soul as she waited for my answer.

I wasn't sure if I could hold on long enough to argue against her. I stood and knelt in front of her wide open legs as she lay flat on the coffee table. It was quite a view, my eyes fixed on the wet and clean slit before me as her hand snaked a path towards it.

"Piss on me when I cum. Piss on my tits and face." She beseeched.

I like to watch. I like it even more when the girl goes for it full on and Justine didn't disappoint, she began to wank off excitedly and at high speed. Her hand was a virtual blur at her gash as she made a great effort to cum quickly. Her long fingers expertly feathered attention on her exposed clit and, as her breathing stuttered, she opened her gash wide with two fingers as she rubbed at an ever increasing speed with her other hand. She darted first one, then two and eventually three fingers in jabbing thrusts deep into her hot and squelching fanny.

Her face was contorted and she bit her lower lip as her hips thrust upward to meet her waving hand. Her whimpers became louder and longer as her lower torso began to shake. The shakes spread down her legs as her eyes rolled in their sockets.

With a loud gasp and a whooshing sound a fountain of cum leapt about a foot in the air above her pulsating snatch.

"Now! Piss on me now!" She exclaimed.

This was really turning me on and even though I was desperate for a pee my cock had started to stiffen and was at least three quarters of the way to a full hard on. I pushed my muscles and was surprised that although I really wanted to go nothing happened. It is difficult enough to have a piss when fully hard but it was like I was trying to force my body to do something that it knew was wrong.

I grimaced and concentrated even harder trying to push my pelvic muscles into action as another fountain sprayed in a wide arc from Justine's bucking body.

Finally I managed to start, first with a few limp dribbles and then a more concerted stream of yellow fluid. As the torrent thickened and intensified I held my cock like a hose in the direction of her upper body. I didn't care if it was wrong as the warm and salty stream bounced off her tits, it just felt so good to relieve the tension as I directed the flow upward and toward her face.

Justine's face was twisted with pleasure and her eyes were now tightly shut as the broad jet gushed and bounced off her cheeks. She blinked behind her glasses and opened her mouth wide in order to catch as much of the warm liquid as possible, as I had tried to do earlier with hers.

Her cunt continued to well and gush as I established a steady flow over her prone body. I manoeuvred the stream over and around her body, allowing some to flow into her wide open and eager mouth. She greedily gulped down each mouthful and smiled a broad grin before offering it wide open again.

I had been drinking so much that there were no signs of the stream ebbing. I directed the flow up and over her brow and onto her hair, giving it a generous wetting as had she to mine.