48, however, did.
And so did 55.
I got up early, having had a late night watching the quite-hot guy win Masterchef (I'm such a sucker for a guy with dark hair and a paunch), showered, dressed, got the Spawn up, fed her, got her dressed, kissed her and her father goodbye, and headed off. I walked down the hill quite chilled, just enjoying the morning, no particular anticipation... and was standing there waiting for the train when a wave of horny-ness finally hit me, somewhat reassuringly! One train into town, reading, one train back out in another direction, off the train, then a very very slow walk down the road, as 48 had said he'd be later than it would take me to get there (having spent the night at his girlfriend's). I walked reading my book, and, him still not being there when I got there, I settled down on the stairs outside to continue to read.
I heard 48's motorbike pull up outside, so I put my book down and waited briefly, grinning at him as he appeared at the foot of the stairs. He came up, smiling at me, and I said "So, you make girls wait now?" He apologised, and I said it wasn't a problem, I'd only been there five minutes (about right), and I'd been enjoying my book. But I did really need the bathroom...
He opened the door, I shot in, dumped my jacket and scarf (the latter is tricky, as it's so long it goes four times around my neck and still hangs to my knees!), and into the bathroom. Came out and got myself a glass of water in his kitchen- where he joined me, and started to kiss me.
Yikes. He hadn't shaved, and, man, oh, man, was he prickly! And kissed gently too- I'm so used to 54 at the moment that everything felt novel.
Not that it took very long before we were both tugging on each other's clothing, and then I had both hands on his cock, jerking him, stroking him, leaning back and looking down to watch, before getting down on my knees and working out all over again (for the gods-only-know-how-manyth time!) how to get the damn thing into my mouth! Now it's stretch open wide... tilt head... angle top lip over it... move forward... get bottom lip over it... right, it's in. Now to bob up and down just on the end, working the roll of foreskin with my lips and clicking it in and out, then after a moment starting to work my tongue on him.
He held my head, gently, letting me do what I wanted, then, after a while, informed me that nobody blows him the way I do, nobody does it as well (dude, it's not that easy!), and he'd missed me. He pulls my tshirt up, and I tuck him between my tits, and he fucks them as I hold them tight around him, looking down to watch, then up at him, grinning.
He pulls back, and tells me to come to the bedroom.
I stood up, followed him, dropping my boots off on the way past- I was wearing 20-hole DMs, a short jean skirt (shorter than my scarf!), stay-up stockings, and a matching bra and panty set under a black long-sleeved tshirt and sweater. Came in to the bedroom, found him stripping already, so I walked past him, took my sweater off, draped it over a chair (not something that I usually give a damn about, but I knew it was going to be a long day), took my tshirt off... he tried to undo my bra, but I told him to wait, and undid my belt, letting my skirt fall to the floor.
Oh yeah, he liked. I was back on my knees in seconds, bobbing on his cock, trying to avoid getting it too far to the back of my mouth as, with a blocked-up nose, it was hard enough as it was! And I was remembering last time, when he made me puke by banging the back of my throat too hard...
He informed me that I was a dirty bitch, and told me to kneel on the bed with my back to him. I did, and he pressed my shoulders down until they were on the bed, then ran his hand between my thighs, over my panties, stroking me, telling me that I still (!) had a great ass. Took my panties off, rubbed his fingers into me, told me that I was all wet and sticky already. "Open wide", and he knelt down behind me and licked my cunt, his stubbly chin rubbing against my clit when his tongue wasn't. I backed and moaned a bit, suddenly realising that I was being quiet.
Up he came, not spending too much time, as he knows well that I'm not hugely into that. He pulled me to the edge of the bed, took his cock, and started to rub it against my slit... then popped the head in. And one long shove... and he was all the way in.
Mm. Stuffed full is good. More good in the head than in the pussy, but still well worth it. He grabbed my hips, and started to bang at me, as I put my head down, moaning, grabbing the sheets, arching back against and into him, gasping, faking but enjoying it. He smacked my ass a few times, one side, the other, not hard enough to sting for more than a second or two, not that I was paying that much attention, just enough to note Hey, yeah, that's nice, it's been a while...
He pulled out, swung me round, had me suck him again, lick his balls. I tasted myself on him- bitter, astringent, almost as though my period were due, which it isn't. I should actually be fertile right about now... which is why it fucks me off that I didn't get to see 54 this week! 48 banged at my throat, holding my head to the side so he could watch his cock go in and out of my mouth, watch my lips stretch around him...
He then shoved me onto the bed on my side, landed next to me, pulled me, unexpectedly, onto my stomach, straddled my ass, shoving my legs together with his, and went up me that way. He then lay over me, wrapping his left arm under my shoulders so that his hand was around my throat as I faced right, and started to squeeze, biting my neck and shoulders and fucking himself into me until he started to gasp, and told me he was about to come in... In my cunt? Yes. In my little whore's cunt? Yesssss, in a whore's.... aaaaaah! And he came hard, squeezing me until I choked.
After which he collapsed and lay on me, silent, for long enough that I wondered what the hell was going on. His hand was still around my throat, and I realised that although the rest of me was relaxed, my head was up, not resting on the pillow. I wondered if he could feel the tension in me- a tension I hadn't even noticed.
It was nice to be strangled a bit. Even just that little bit. It's been too damn long!
Finally he levered himself off me, and laughed- my back was swimming in his sweat, so much so that after a trip to the bathroom, he came back with a towel and wiped me down.
I always find that much sweat weird- I quite simply, even in the hottest of summers, do not get to that point. I'm too cold-blooded to sweat. I take my bra off, as the back is drenched, but leave my stockings on.
We lay and chatted for a while, him telling me about the various medical procedures he's had to go through to prepare for heading off to Liberia at the end of the month. He's glad to go- things aren't going too well at work, and he's getting tired of his girlfriend. A good thing he didn't knock her up as she wanted, I noted, and he agreed, saying that well, it would have taken so much time and effort anyway, since he's been snipped, and they'd have had to go in with a needle and get the sperm the other side of the cut.
He noticed the massive bruises on my upper arm, left, I do believe, by 54, and asked me where they came from. I grinned, and said that I'd been having a bit of fun recently. He inquired, I gave him a few details, he got sad... but tried to hide it. Pretty successfully, but there are some things that always give him away- namely, in this case, I got bored with talking and started to stroke him, then went down to play with his cock, and, despite him lying there telling me that there was nobody like me to get him turned on, he... wasn't really getting there. Not without me holding the base tight to make it swell, and even with me trying all sorts of different angles and rhythms. Oh well...
I blew him long enough to make my jaw crack, then climbed on top of him, holding him tight beneath me and rubbing my cunt against it, sure that I could probably work him in as he was, but he took over after a moment, flipping me onto my back, taking his cock and popping the head in and out of my cunt a few times as I moaned and played with my clit, holding my cunt wide so he could see. It did the trick- he jammed it into me and put his hand around my throat again, then the other, holding me down by my neck and pounding me, whilst I worked my clit as hard as I could.
I thought I might get there, but although I got pretty damn close, I didn't quite make it. He did, however, coming in me a second time, his hands so tight around my throat that I started coughing. He rolled to his side, taking me with him, and I went on playing with my clit, hoping, but no. Ah well.
It was a good farewell, as I'm pretty sure that there won't be a repeat. He's off at the end of the month for the year (and won't leave me the keys of his apartment, spoilsport!), and I doubt that he'll be back at the end of that year. And I don't really need him anymore. He's a nice guy, and I'll try to stay friendly, but it'll be pretty much only by email/text from now on.
We showered, he shaved, we dressed, chatting, I got my stuff together, he got his helmet and jacket, and we kissed a last time at the door, tenderly. Down the stairs, a kiss on both cheeks outside, I told him to look after himself, and we headed in different directions.
Basta. Adios, 48. Vaya con whatever god you believe in.
I walked off down the road, briskly, once I'd teetered along the top of the row of paving stones to the side of the sidewalk for one last time. Heh. I always liked to do that. It appealed to my inner playful-and-well-fucked-slut.
Along to the next tram stop, and a tram back through town. I was supposed to be meeting the 22-year old at 12:10. Having got there with about 20 minutes to spare, I went further along the road and went into a shop to buy a replacement for my jean skirt. I bought it three months ago, and it's two sizes too big now- if it weren't for my belt, it would fall off. As it did earlier!
I got my skirt, even had time to try it on, then walked back down the road. I got to where I was supposed to meet the kid, and had just stopped to ogle some pastries in a window, when I got a text telling me he was "next to the fountain". Which meant the other side of the road. I turned to cross, couldn't see him, but spotted him as I moved slightly to the side. He saw me at the same time, and, from looking worried, lit up.
He was also lit up, smoking a cigarette. Yuck. But not my problem, as long as we were outside!
A Hi, a kiss on both cheeks, and he asked if we could move, as there were too many people around. The kid is paranoid, but that doesn't bother me, quite the opposite.
He'd promised me somewhere safe, and sworn that it was, so I followed him, walking back across the river, along, and into one of the biggest blocks that this city has, a vast, multi-story behemoth of a building, one of those social-housing experiments that could have gone disastrously wrong, but, this city being as clean and law-abiding as it is, is only moderately grimy and not in the slightest bit dangerous as long as you don't go down into the little park the other side of the road, in which case you deserve all the harassment by drug dealers that you are no doubt going to get. And don't wear a skirt!
It's a nice walk there. On the way, he assures me again that the place is safe. It's his HQ, he and his friends'- they broke a door in three years ago, and they've been using the place ever since. At this point, my alarm bells don't quite ring, but my sensor gives a twitch. He goes on talking- he's taken lots of girls there (yes, dear, I believe you are a man, it's fine), and they've all been wary at first but then they've liked it so much they've wanted to go back. Some have told him that it's their favourite place in town. Again... Yes, dear.
I'm smiling, listening to him. He tells me that it's on the top floor of the building- there's a thirteenth floor, but it's not got a button in the lifts, but you go up and go around and... He mentions again that all his friends use it. Just checking, I say "So, we might bump into one of them?" He laughs, and says no, they each have their different aisle (wtf?), and a specific place where they meet up. OK, so I'm probably not going to get jumped and gang-fucked.
We make our way through the building, first up five stories in one lift (with fantastic views!), then along an outdoor high-level park/balcony, oddly, going down a few steps here and there, then along further, almost to the end. A wooden and glass door, with an interphone next to it. He gave it a hard shove, it sprang open, he motioned me in. Another lift. He was right, it only went up to twelve. Up, me smiling at myself in the mirrors.
"You must be wondering where I'm taking you", he grins. "Actually, what I'm having is total flash-back" I answer, which is true. And explains why I'm so weirdly comfortable in this situation- I've been here so many damn times... OK, not here, but following this sort of guy to this sort of place... yeah, I spent all my mid-teens doing this.
Out at the twelfth floor, he checks around before letting me out of the lift, and then I follow him around a corner, through an emergency exit, up two flights of stairs. Outside onto a roof, around a corner, and I understand what he meant about "aisles"- between the walls, every few feet, there is an entry to another stairwell. His is down the end- I follow him in, and back down a couple of levels. We stop at a level which is lit in blue- a No Junkies Light.
They always make me laugh, those lights- I'm so pale, and my skin is so thin, that somehow they make my veins show up even more than normal.
He takes his coat off, drapes it over the stair rails. We're on a very small landing- about 2 feet by maybe five, steps going up at one end, down at the other. It's dirty, dusty, but at least there are no bad smells. And, again, it's all so familiar.
I note to myself that this is a good one-time event. I'm too old now to go back to doing it on staircases. This one time, not in band camp, I'll do this. But I like my comforts, so it's not going to be repeated. No biggie, I already suspect, and had pretty much decided, that the kid is going to be a one-time.
He stands a step below the landing. I take my jacket and scarf off, drape them over his. Step forward, against him. His mouth goes to mine. He kisses gently, more gently than I'm expecting. But his hands go to my ass, then straight under my skirt, yanking it up, squeezing my ass, then his right hand moves forward, into my panties, guddles around a moment opening me up, and his fingers shove up my cunt.
I think briefly of 48, his cock stretching my cunt, and grin to myself. I then remember one of the problems with "young" men- they seem to think that finger-fucking you hard gets you going instantly. Ah well, it's not bad, so I moan and squirm, and attempt to undo his pants. He backs off and sorts out the belt for me whilst I remove my panties, and I reach in to his pants to find...
Oh yes. A really nice cock. Long, without being too long. Dark. A nice heft to it- heavy without being a club. Bends slightly towards my right cheekbone, as I squat down, open up, and swallow him in.
His hands go to my hair, which, fortunately, 48 did not destroy too much, so is still down. I consider briefly telling him that it isn't polite to put your hands over a girl's ears whilst she's blowing you, keep your damn hands to the top or back of my head! But I don't bother, and get on with it.
From being quite gentle with the kissing, he's quick to start bobbing my head up and down on his cock- getting it to the back hard and fast, making me almost gag a couple of times. I stay down only about 3-4 minutes, though, before coming up. He kisses me harder this time- reaches for my tits, then shoves my layers up, grabs them, I help him scoop them out of my bra. He sucks on one, then the other (any milk, I wonder?), then stands back, twisting a nipple whilst I play with his cock.
I've already asked if he has condoms- he doesn't. He "forgot". Yeah, right. Like I haven't heard that one before. I turn, dig out a condom from my bag (I'd put them conveniently close to the top as I headed to meet him), open it up, mutter about how much I hate these damn things, hand it to him. Hey, long fingernails and condoms don't make a good match!
He pops it on- I turn my back on him, bend forward. He's still standing on the lower step, but it doesn't stop him- he grabs his cock, aims, and is straight up me, one hand on my hip... and the other, almost instantly, in my hair, pulling my head back. Gooood boy. He pulls on it, fucking me hard, really banging into me, and I moan, bracing myself against the wall in front of me, then tell him to pull harder, which he does, twisting and yanking...
But he's not comfortable, so he pulls out, moves forward onto the landing, and bangs back into me. I am shoved up against the wall, which I don't want. I'd love to rest my cheek against it, as it's unfinished, and I know that the friction would rub my face raw, but that would just be dumb of me. I continue to brace myself, pushing back, trying to get his rhythm and failing as every time I move he stops and then moves differently, so I give up and just let him bang away.
After a while, not long enough for me to get bored, he pulls out. He pushes my ass apart. I'm somewhat surprised that he doesn't even check, but what the hell. He aims, too high, gets it right, shoves, gets the end in. It pops out again. He tries again- gets it in a bit further before it pops out. In further, I moan in a different tone, and he starts to fuck my ass- despite seeming to have no more than the head in me, although I did feel him slip past the first circle.
It stings, but I'm starting to open up when he slides out, tells me he's going to come. He backs up- I turn around, pull the condom off, swallow him down again, chucking the condom to the side, hearing it splat on the floor.
Now it starts to get interesting.
As he bangs against my throat, holding my head again, his hand slaps against my left cheek. Not too hard- he's clearly testing. I don't do anything, keep on sucking his cock. A moment later, he slaps me again, harder. Again, I keep going. And then again, harder. And on the other side. He calls me a bitch, tells me to suck his cock.
He pulls out, tells me to lick his balls- I do, sucking on them, licking them through his thick fur (not as thick as that on 48, although the latter shaves his balls, thank goodness!), having to spit out the odd hair. Back down my throat he goes. I have one leg going to sleep, and I keep on almost toppling over. Besides that my cold is making me have to snort snot every so often to be able to keep going!
More slaps, more tugging on my hair, more choking me with his cock. At one point, he pulls out, tells me to turn my head up, open my mouth- spits a wad into my mouth. Yuck. I drool it straight back out as he goes back to fucking my mouth.
Finally, I tell him that I'm going to fall over. He backs off, I stand up. Argh, pain in my leg! He kisses me, finger fucks me some more. I end up bent over the stair rails as he finger fucks me again, jerking off, and then he tries to shove all his hand up my cunt in one go, making me yowl- dude, that's not the way to go about it. It's good, and I like it, but you're going to do nothing more than damage me, going about it like that.
I turned slightly, bending so that I could blow him at the same time, and he went back to finger-fucking me, then tried to ram it up me again, making me not only almost fall over, but have to complain that that bloody hurt! Not that I mind the pain, but, jeez, that isn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to get his hand in me like that, and I was just going to tear and get really sore.
He got the message, and I got to get back to giving myself jaw-cramp by blowing him on and on and on, the drool running out of the corners of my mouth, my eyes dripping every time he chokes me with his cock, making me glad I'd put on water-proof make-up- which I'd had to touch up after 48 anyway!
It just keeps on going- I keep on wondering if he's ever going to come. I'm crouching at his feet, my back against the wall, watching him jerk off, his hand in my hair to keep my head away, my tongue out, and he occasionally bobs the end against my tongue. Now and again, he tells me to lick his balls again, bitch, and I do, but I'm starting to get bored now.
Finally, I start to put on a show, so lean back, and play with my cunt, letting him hear, although he can't see. He stops, tells me to sit on the stairs and touch myself- I do, my bare ass on the filthy concrete, although I move forward so that my pussy doesn't touch it. I hold my lips open with one hand, flicking my clit, thrashing, my head snapping, my expression getting more and more ecstatic, until I "come", and then again, watching him yanking on his cock, holding his balls...
Until he finally steps back and says he's not going to do it, he can't. It takes him forever to come, he says, hours, and he just can't do it here, he's not... Comfortable? I say, grinning. Yeah, that's it. So we stop, and chat.
What don't I like, he asks. I think about it. I don't like my ears licked. OK. What do I like? I like.... gangbangs. (Dropping a hint? Me? Like I'd do that.) And I've done most things. Yeah? he says, leaning back as he sits on the stairs. What about scat? - Yeah, done that. - And? - And, what? - Do you like it? - It doesn't bother me either way. - What about uro? - Yeah, done that. You like it? - Oh, I've pissed on a girl, but it's really... - Because it's fun? - Yeah, for that. - So, what do you like? - What I really like is getting head whilst smoking a big fat blunt. Do you mind if? - Nah, go ahead.
He skins up. In the meantime, he tells me he'd really like to have 2-3 girls at the same time, thinks that would be great. Says he's currently seeing four girls (uh-huh, really? Kid, you're not that cute.) at the same time, it takes a lot of juggling!
I mention my first gang-bang (at 15)- the two brothers and their two friends. He says he did his first gang-bang at 12- in a basement. I grin. He smirks, and says that it was more of a "tournante" than a gang-bang. How cliche, I say. He agrees.
He wants to melt his hash, but his lighter gives out, so he just rolls it and sticks it in his cigarette box. He has to go back to work, so we put ourselves back together, he dusts me off, spanking me a bit, gently, to "get the dust off". He likes my underwear- loves the stockings. So did 48...
We head back up the stairs, across the roof, down the other stairs. He says he loves this place, he really feels at home here... but this summer, his parents will be away, and if I want to, I can come over to his place. Mm. I might consider it. He was surprisingly good, and I don't mind giving him a second try-out, just to see. Besides, it was a lovely cock...
Down out through all the various lifts and stairs, and we walk back across the river, chatting. I put my hair up in the first lift, finding it knotted and tangled into a frizzy, rough mop. I lick a finger and run it under my eyes, and that clears up some...
I leave him the other side of the river, then re-cross it on another bridge, heading up towards the station. I intend to stop off at one of the main department stores to do some food shopping, and decide to go to the bathroom there and check my make-up. Not least because people are staring at me as I walk. I'm not sure if it's the swollen lips and the glowing eyes, or if I am really a mess, and I want to know!
In the department store, I head upstairs, heading for the toilets near the restaurant, but stop off at the lingerie department instead, where I pick up a black bra with small hot pink polka-dots. I go into the changing room- where, in the good light, I see that my make-up is pretty much a mess- mascara almost gone, and crumbs and smears around my eyes. I dig out my bag, fix myself up, grinning to myself- and then notice, holy shit, I have a bruise on my right jawbone. Where the fuck did I get that? It's not fresh enough to have been done in the last hour- it looks like another one of these damn bruises that I keep on waking up with at the moment- perfectly round, and already blue-green.
I swear I have no idea where this came from. I'm getting a bit fucked off with these bruises at the moment- they keep on turning up, I keep on having to say I have no idea where they come from, and it's getting weird.
I dust some powder over this one, note that you can also see a couple of the ones on my right thigh through my stocking just below my skirt. I'm a battered woman. But I got battered by the fairies. I remove my make-up, praising the gods for make-up remover cloths in small packs, re-apply, grin at myself. The lips are still red and swollen...
I try the bra on, like it, go and get the matching panties and suspender belt. Which I pay for using my husband's credit card.
I head off, passing through where 54 lives, and smirking to myself at having "cheated" on him with two different guys in one day... thinking about 48 and having just messed around on him too... and just generally feeling quite pleased with myself.