Forced Entry

Getting undressed had made her a little cold, so Lorna turned to the fire and stoked it up, placing on another couple of logs; she gazed at the flickering flames as the wood was engulfed. As she knelt in front of the fire the tightness of the leather skirt in this position pressed onto her pussy, which by the very nature of her heightened sexuality had already unfolded its petals.

This therefore created an almost electric shock through her sexual organs as the cold material came into contact with her warm lips. Involuntarily she let out a squeal, “uuummm that was naughty!” She spoke to the empty room, smiling, she got up returning to the mirror.

Lorna’s breasts were firm and full.

At 36C they were more than large enough for her husband who always said how much he enjoyed fondling them. For her part, Lorna would have liked them to have been a little larger. What she did like about them however, was how the nipples were on the up-tilt of the breast, which made them look extremely pert. It also meant that when excited, as now, her nipples were very visible.

As Lorna looked at her reflection, she could she how the material of the blouse was being strained at the buttonholes that lay between her heaving chest. “You’ll be bursting out of there before too long,” she said to them.

As she moved, Lorna found that the skirt constricted her movements, a fact that she somehow found strangely arousing. Her thighs brushed together as she walked; the silky material of her stockings, added to her excitement.

She ran her hands down her body, across her chest and down over her flat stomach, to her thighs: the slightly raised clips of the suspender belt just barely discernable beneath the hide of the skirt. Putting on the lace up boots her husband had bought, she returned to the mirror to see how she cut an enticing picture, even if she did think so herself.

As she stood looking at her reflection, her hands ran from her thighs back along her stomach to the swelling of her breasts. The nipples were painfully hard and ached to be touched. As soon as the palms of her hands ran over these two amplifiers of sexual arousal, her legs buckled. The heat that had previously began in her stomach spread quickly to her vulva.

Her clitoris, partially erect, began to swell to match the current state of her nipples. Lorna knew that she could not stop things now, even if she wanted to, which she didn’t; it was time to satisfy her body’s needs.

She slipped quickly back into the bedroom and went to her husbands bed-side cabinet. This was where he kept all of his sex toys, the ones he would use on her. Her fingers settled on the cold, hard but smooth surface of her favourite, the vibrator. She liked this particular toy, because when switched on, it would warm up and as a consequence felt really good inside her. She returned to the flickering fire-side smiling to herself.

Almost instinctively, she knelt on the floor, her bottom to the mirror, legs slightly apart. The vibrator was put on the floor and stood there proudly phallic. Her right hand slid into the blouse, popping open the straining buttons and completely freeing her pendulous breasts. God she felt wanton and really needed to abuse herself.

Her other hand pulled at the hem of her skirt and slid beneath, running between her stockinged thighs, settling directly on her swollen flesh. Her index finger slid expertly between the wet folds of her vagina causing her to moan, “oooooohhhhhmmm.”

Lorna’s right hand stopped caressing her dangling breasts and reached behind her, pulling her skirt up to completely expose her bum. She opened her thighs wider looking over her shoulder to the reflection, and watched intently as her fingers sank time and again into her wet folds, making a slurping sound as she pushed them deeper into herself.

She could wait no-longer, needing to feel something firm inside. So, quickly turning the vibrator on, she got up into the chair, opened her legs wide and plunged the implement roughly into her. “OOOOOHHHHhh yess, uuummm, uughh.” Her cries were loud, her husband forgotten, her need great.

The fingers of her left hand, glistening with her vaginal juices, teased at her clitoris and pulled at her lips. Her right hand was the abuser, thrusting the vibrating phallus in and out or her now dripping orifice.

Her left hand would momentarily flick from nipple to nipple and then to her mouth, so that she could taste her own juices; before taunting her erect clitoris again. “OOOHhhh yeah, ummm, FUCK ME, FUCK ME!” She shouted at the mirror as she viewed the wanton abuse of her fanny.

Her orgasm took no time at all. Her husband maintained that if she dressed up it heightened not only his desire, but hers too. She knew this to be true now. She had been turned on from the point of taking her bra off and putting on the silky blouse. The stockings had served to increase her excitement still further, and now, with her fanny wetter than it had been for a long time and with the vibrator up to its hilt inside her, she exploded in orgasm. “OOOOOOHHHHHHHhhhhh, OOOOHHH, ooooooooh, uuugh, yes.” Her chest heaving hard, her breath hard to catch her urge subsided, but she quickly realised that the ache had not been fully satisfied.