They didn’t notice me at the back of the lift. Too drunk and horny on life. I had been watching them in the hotel bar for over an hour. Just another tourist ignoring his drink while they flirted and kissed and groped in oblivion. The woman especially not giving a damn who saw.

Even me.

Her husband.

And so to the elevator. I took the opportunity to follow. Joining them unnoticed. The only person in the five star establishment wearing a Yankees baseball cap pulled down low. The perfect disguise.

And just like in the bar, she didn’t know I existed.

Me or the Apple Tag hidden in her handbag.

A handbag that hung by her side as she tongued her lover and giggled.

The elevator giving off the false illusion of privacy.

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Honestly, I came here to confront her.

To confront them.

But as they made out inches from me - his hand on her ass squeezing hard - my cock overpowered me. Rock solid in my jeans as I witnessed infidelity 101. Not wanting to interrupt the show.

Despite the fact that she was my wife.

Despite the fact that she used to come here with me when she was married before.

Our affair as filthy as the one taking place in front of me.

A little bit of history repeating itself.

I stayed hard as the elevator doors on the 10th floor opened.

Stayed hard as I watched them walk away.

Her high heels silent on the carpet as his hand squeezed her ass obscenely hard once more.

That lucky motherfucker.

A motherfucker who was once me.

I thought about pushing my luck and following them along the corridor. Drinking in all the lust I could - but I did not. Rooted to the spot by a straining cock that was leaking pre-cum.

So I let the doors close.

Let the elevator return to ground level.

And once in the nearest restroom, I let my hand touch my cock.

Thinking of the action upstairs.

Thinking of her tonguing his ass as he stroked himself. A party trick she used to do for me. I thought of him returning the favour. Two fingers deep in her cunt with his tongue in her ass before fucking my wife savagely from behind. Obscene dirty talk. Calling her a slut and a whore. Her favourite words in the English language. Helping her to get off. To come easily like she used to do with me. Her lover’s cum soon deep. And I wondered. Is he like me? Will he drop to his knees and drink every drop of himself from her deliciously messy cunt?

This thought pushed me over the edge and I came into the toilet. Watching my wasted seed floating in the water before tucking my sticky shameful cock away. Head sweating beneath a baseball cap that I had been wearing since leaving the house.

Our house.

Thinking - “Is this the end? Or only just the beginning?”

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Previous chapter

After our first hot meeting outside my door, I became obsessed with Becca. So much so, it began to affect my work. Struggling to concentrate with a hard-on in my shorts and my upstairs cum fantasy on my mind. Filthy thoughts churning out all sorts of scenarios. New perversions in my young brain.

Driving into her cunt after her first lover - or her second. Watching her suck another man as I took her from behind. Obscene facials; my cum splashing across her pierced lip.

It didn’t bother me that she slept around. In fact, it turned me on - even prompting me to start a spreadsheet. Next to my other tables and research charts, there was a tab labelled BECCA, which recorded all her fucks by date and time.

The tattooed guy every Tuesday.

The suit guy around lunchtimes - various days.

The strangely fat young guy, who came equipped with a bag of takeout food under his arm.

So there I would sit. Perverted data logged. Cock in hand as I listened to the sexy sounds drifting down through the floor. Jerking off and jerking off until one day…I didn’t have to.

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The First Time

I hadn’t long returned from the gym when there was a knock at my door - Becca. She was wearing her usual uniform of a tiny vest and shorts set. Her nipples clearly visible and a dick hardening grin etched on her face. She leant on my door frame like a hooker, asking me if I was busy. When I said I wasn’t, she purred out some made up issue about her computer not working properly. Since I worked for a tech company - could I take a look?

I followed Becca’s hypnotic ass up to her apartment; excited to finally see where all the action took place. I don’t know what I had expected - maybe some seedy cum stained fuck pad - but it was all super clean and orderly.

Becca showed me straight to her makeshift desk in the corner, saying she couldn’t connect to the internet. The solution was obvious - she had turned off the Wi-Fi! A realisation that actually made my cock curiously twitch. Still, I played along and said ‘yes’ to the offer of a beer as I pretended to fix a problem that didn’t exist. This was until Becca’s - Here you go! - comment made me turn in the swivel chair.

OMG! There she was - a Bud Light in both hands and naked from the waist down. Apart from on porn sites, I’d never seen a shaved pussy before, and couldn’t help but stare like some dumbfounded virgin. Not playing it cool at all.

It wouldn’t be the first time Becca smiled and took complete control. My inexperience turning her on no end. She swigged from one of the bottles before putting them down next to the computer and straddling me. My most vivid memory was her perfume, its scent almost drugging me as I looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. Her hot cunt radiating heat through my track pants. Her smiling lips hypnotising me.

And Becca kept on smiling as she shuffled on my lap; reaching down and expertly freeing my cock from the restraints of my sportswear. After the sexiest of eye-contact pauses, Becca struck. Her beer tainted tongue in my mouth as her hungry pussy sank down on my cock, making the chair creak and me moan in equal measure.

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What She Wants

My wife is a hot wife.

Not in the traditional sense.

She doesn’t screw around.

Doesn’t look at or desire other men.

She is hot because loves and enjoys sex.

Hot because she possesses a body and lingerie collection I simply cannot resist.

After five years together, the subject of children came up and refused to go away. I loved the idea - but just not yet. Career wise - not a great time. Some unavoidable financial burdens. Spareroom still a home office and not a nursery.

But my wife’s mind was made up. Off of birth control. Tempting me to come inside her time and time again. Sometimes even begging. Each withdrawal harder and harder to pull off. Closer and closer to spilling inside. Disappointment on her face and ecstasy on mine as I unloaded across her taut stomach and whatever lingerie she was wearing.

But last night, she got what she wanted.

A night when we drank our favorite wine.

A night when she wore my favorite flowery lingerie and silver heel combo.

A night when she sucked me so hard with her finger deep in my ass.

And then the dirty talk started.

A simple - Fuck me! - all that was needed to kick things off.

Soon between her legs lost and helpless.

Her pussy flowing along with the slutty words from her lips.

“Fuck me. Come in me. Let’s make a baby.”

I didn’t answer. Just cursed. I stopped fucking for a millisecond. Trying to think. My mind and cock horny and confused. My balls already tight. She hit me again.

“Fuck me. Come in me. Let’s make a baby. Do it….do it…”

Her hands reached between us around those tight balls. Restarting my fuck engine. My hips helpless and disobeying my mind. I begged out some weak words of my own.

“Shit baby…stop.”

But my ass kept grinding.

My dick kept swelling.

Balls tighter and tighter and tighter…

Then she struck. Reaching around my sweaty body. Fingernails finding my ass. Digging in. Locking me in place as my pleasure tipped over the edge. Hissing words in my face.

“That’s it…give it to me.”

And this is what I did.

Giving her all she wanted as she gave me the best orgasm of my life in return.

Powering deep.

I pulled out slowly and she pulled her knees to her chest. Keeping all of my cum inside. Her cunt and ovaries greedily working on my seed. My wife’s mind already thinking about baby names and summer christenings.

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Now, let’s talk about the words - Filthy and Bitch. Funnily enough, this is my husband’s nickname NOT mine, although I am responsible for how it came about. It’s thanks to me that on some internal emails and when they go for drinks, my man is sometimes addressed as the one and only – Filthy Bitch.

So, how did this nickname come about?

It was during Covid and our sex life had exploded. Being home together meant we could fuck all the time - and fuck all the time we did. Morning blowjobs became the norm. Leisurely screws while daytime TV played in the background. And after lunch, we would retire to the bedroom for passionate sex, followed by the obligatory siesta.

The day Filthy Bitch was born was a quiet one for me. While Chad had a day of Zoom meetings and account deadlines, I just had a few reports to send in.

It was a hot day, and I showered after breakfast. Admiring myself in our full-length bathroom mirror. I looked good. Body shining with moisturiser, pussy trimmed to perfection, and my dark hair slicked back – something Chad loves. I had paid way too much attention to soaping my cunt in the shower, and now my erect nipples and dirty mind were restless.

It was playtime!

I could hear him on the first of his many video calls in our home office. So wearing just my towel, I snuck along the hallway and into the room. My husband saw, but didn’t acknowledge me, not even when I dropped my towel and revealed all. Chad could only shift uncomfortably in his chair, a slight grin on his face, while his eyes remained locked on his video colleagues.

I genuinely didn’t want to take things too far – just some teasing for a hot session after the meeting, but I couldn’t help myself. Dropping to my knees and crawling seductively across the carpet towards Chad, who was still nodding along to the comments coming from his computer. I bullied my way past his leather chair and snuck under the ridiculously large desk my husband had insisted on buying for the small room.

Like most office workers during lockdown, Chad had abandoned his business attire and was wearing baggy sportswear. Looking between his legs, he was blatantly hard, so I reached up and attacked. He struggled in the chair, but had little choice but to join in the game, lifting his ass so I could pull his track pants and underwear down.

Then I got to work.

Chad loves his balls played with, so I started there. I insist he keeps them hair-free, so I rained down wet, sloppy kisses all over his smooth sack, before sucking each one gently – and then hard!

He twisted in the chair before adding some random comment to the meeting as he tried to remain professional, trapped in the chair while his wife devoured him.

I kept my mouth focused on his balls and then forced my spare hand under his ass. I normally saved this type of ass play for special occasions, but I was all in. As my saliva dripped from his balls, I played with his sensitive ass, circling and probing until inserting a finger. Chad nearly shot out of his seat, before pushing back against my hand.

Now he was all!

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I remember exactly where I was when he said it. Sitting in an armchair way too close to the action; the action being a huge black guy fucking the life out of my hot young neighbour. I couldn’t take my eyes off his god-like muscles, which seemed to glow as they moved.…

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Exciting times here at Hot Pink. Coming this weekend I will start to serialise my short novel - Becca & The Beast. A tale all about a sexy upstairs neighbour who lures a young student to her bed. He falls for her bigtime. Ignoring the warning signs as he witnesses one of her regular lovers - The Beast - come and go as he pleases. This is until one night…

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THE BAR

My husband’s boss — Mr Reynolds — had a reputation for leering at anything with tits. And this reputation turned out to be bang on. He was already eyeing up the cocktail waitress when I walked into the hotel bar, my heels loudly announcing my arrival. And my shoes were just the start. I also wore a short black bob wig and a low-cut top, leaving all my usual clothes at home. I was here wearing the uniform of a slut who meant business.

I played it obvious from the start, sitting next to Reynolds at the bar. Despite the power he wielded over my husband, he cut a rather pathetic figure. Hunched over a beer, his gut straining a shirt that was obviously too small for him. His thinning hair and horn rimmed glasses completing his midlife look.

I fed him some bullshit about feeling safer drinking with company. That he looked like a decent enough guy. He swallowed it all and offered me a drink. I gladly accepted, choosing an expensive cocktail and sucking on its tiny straw. And from that point on, Reynolds was putty in my hands, the alcohol helping to manipulate his one track mind.

A few drinks in and it was time to play my ace. I went to the bathroom to adjust my cleavage and remove my black g-string. I then reappeared, climbing back onto my stool, revealing a ‘Sharon Stone’ amount of pussy. Reynolds couldn’t look away. Completely dumbfounded. I went for the jugular.

“Hey…let’s go somewhere more private…my room’s upstairs.”

Reynolds hesitated at first, his mind questioning his dick, but as my heels stood up, he followed me to the elevator like a little lost puppy.

THE ROOM

My hotel room was budget but I’d set it up perfectly — just enough light for the hidden camera to capture the action. Reynolds was half-drunk and easy to manoeuvre onto the bed. Sitting there and staring up at me like a high school virgin. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him fumble with the buttons on his shirt, not quite believing his luck. He even asked how much it would cost — thinking I was a prostitute! “Don’t worry,” I thought — you will be paying for this in your own way!

His shirt came off, revealing his untoned hairy flesh. Pants next, and there it was — his predictably small dick twitching desperately for my attention. I had fucked worst looking guys, and honestly, this was something I enjoyed — my cunt feeding off the power dynamics of it all. The look of gratitude and disbelief on their faces, not quite believing their luck. With this in mind, I stripped slowly, peeling off my dress and revealing my naked pussy. Unhooking my basque and letting my large breasts announce themselves. Watching Reynolds actually drool. I laughed out a vulgar tease.

“Oh…look at you. You pathetic little thing!”

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Five Guys walk in the bedroom.

To find you.

Black lingerie.

Your skin semi-damp from your recent shower.

Your pussy very damp with thoughts of what comes next.

Things begin quickly. We all strip until we are ready and aroused like you. Cocks jerked as you lay on the bed as instructed. On your back. Arms wide. Legs and imagination open as we all take our positions. Two guys by your head. Guy #1 holding your left wrist tightly. Guy #2 on your right wrist. Guys #3 & #4 on ankle duties. Pinning you down. Making your body and cunt squirm. Your safe word a million miles from your lips as you enjoy these restrictive sensations.

As stated - I am one lucky motherfucker.

I know this as I get between your legs.

My cock already in my fist.

Pumping.

Looking down at your beautiful pale skin.

Your massive white tits.

Your body ready to be fucked and destroyed.

You’re almost drooling as I start to rub at the tip of my cock up and down your slick pussy. Teasing you incessantly. Your intrigued eyes moving from me. Turning to Guy #1 on your left and his massive pumping cock as he adores every inch of you.

Guy #1 is not alone.

Five cocks all exposed by Five horny Guys.

Five loads ready and waiting.

Cocks continually stroked and kept hard with spare hands.

I get your attention by slipping inside you.

Making you release your first moan of the night.

A deep heavy one as you look straight back at me.

Your gaze flitting between my eyes and hairy powerful chest.

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I. WANT. HER.

I started the morning wanting an almond croissant.

But then I wanted something else.

Something far more tasty.

I was sitting in the cafe writing, close to the queue like I always did. Coffee slipping between my lipstick lips and sex on my mind as I wrote erotica. Sideways glances looking for inspiration - and finding it.

Fuck me…really finding it.

She had no right to be wearing those PVC boots and fishnet stockings in public at this hour.

Looking deliciously out of place.

Looking like a million dollar slut.

Full of caffeine and possibilities, my brain worked overtime.

My imagination leaving the cafe and taking me places.

My fingers on the keyboard as my fantasy shaped itself.

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A hotel room.

Just us.

Just us and those heels.

Those stockings turning out to be tights.

Tiny tits and flat stomach exposed.

No panties with her unfashionably thick black pubic hair poking through the mesh.

Her tights were soon torn as I put my head between my fantasy girl’s legs and started to rip my way towards heaven. Placing my soft lips on her soft cunt. Leaving my lipstick all over her pussy and beyond. My tongue deep as her hips ground back against my affections. My manicured nails reaching up and torturing her nipples. My mouth moaning louder than hers despite the fact that I was the giver and not the receiver. Her young cunt soon flooding my face.

In this afterglow, I wanted to do so much.

I wanted to remove my skirt and boring underwear.

Wanted to straddle her eager mouth.

Push down so hard.

Flood her back.

But I couldn’t.

I wanted to…

…but I couldn’t.

My dream girl suddenly ‘too much’.

Too young.

Too sexy.

Too much for my midlife crisis mentality to even fantasise about.

My pussy wet and my mind wanting in both worlds with thoughts of what I could not bring myself to take.

Back in the cafe, she left with her iced latte in one hand and phone in the other. Turning us all on as she went. Her lips sucking straw as her heels clicked away. Creating a million fantasies with every step she took.

The girl who left us all wanting.

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Age Gap | MILF | Blowjob | Premature

This is the story of the first time a woman sucked me off. An experience I will never forget. And it came courtesy of my best friend’s mum! Here’s what happened.

My friend Matt and his dad Bill shared a birthday, so the family went out to celebrate, inviting me along. Matt’s mum wasn’t the hottest of my friends’ mums, but I loved her pale skin and curvy breasts. Plus, she always flirted with me, all very harmless, but it drove Matt crazy.

Anyway, I had just got my licence and was always looking for any excuse to drive, so I offered to be the designated driver. Everyone was happy with this, but at the restaurant things didn’t go well. With Matt and his dad egging each other on to drink more, they got blind drunk, hardly able to walk. Matt’s mum had a few glasses of wine too, but looked mortified by the whole thing. This is where I came in — the hero of the day! I not only helped her get them out of the restaurant, I also got them in the car, and then up the stairs when we arrived at Matt’s house. After dumping them in their respective beds and removing their shoes, we left them snoring and headed downstairs.

Matt’s mum needed a drink, so we went to the kitchen. She was really grateful, and kept saying thank you over and over again as she poured herself a wine and got me a beer. But as she spoke, I couldn’t help but notice her blouse was open, several buttons missing due to our struggles getting the guys upstairs. I could clearly see her large breasts and sexy red bra, but didn’t know what the hell to do. Should I say something? My stiff cock was only confusing the situation, so I just stood there like an idiot with a Bud Light in my hand.

Inevitably, Matt’s mum caught me looking. And this is where things got super sexy, as she didn’t fix her top. In fact, she did the opposite, putting her wine down and undoing the rest of the buttons, revealing all of her bra and pale skin. Her heels then began clicking across the kitchen floor towards me. I remember moving backwards like a complete virgin until I was up against the kitchen counter, trapped by her sexy actions. And when she had me right where she wanted me, Matt’s mum dropped to her knees and purred the words I will never forget.

“This is to say thank you!”

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It started in the woods.

My boyfriend had planned the walk pretty well.

A sunny day and not too many miles.

Plenty of pubs on the way.

Plenty of alcohol on the way.

Both of us slightly drunk - but super happy.

Leaving the second pub, after stupidly opting for a pint of cider to match the sunny weather, I got caught short in the woods. Desperate for a pee. Stumbling off the track into the trees. My boyfriend followed and kept a look out as I unceremoniously dropped my denim shorts, pulled my pink panties to the side and scooted down. Pissing hard on the forest floor. Some even splashed on my ankles, which made me giggle and bite my lip. The pee never ending. A strange sexy situation.

I looked to my boyfriend as I continued to gush. And as I stared up at him, I realised that despite being together for over two years, I had never taken a pee in front of him.

His reaction to this new act?

A hard-on in his shorts.

Then a hard-on in his hand.

Then a hard-on in my face.

With denim still around my ankles and my pussy still dripping, I took him between my lips and sucked him so hard - so good - getting him where he needed to be in lightning time. He’s always been slightly premature but on this occasion, it was less than a minute. Giving me no option but to take his cum in my mouth to keep him spraying it across my vest top. It tasted delicious on my drunken tongue. Feeling really horny with my wet cunt still exposed.

Our drunk horny mentality remained afterwards. My boyfriend helping me up as we made our way to the next pub. Laughing and talking about the experience. He just said it was so unusual. Being in the open air. Seeing me pee like that. Being really affectionate with me until we got to our flat later and fucked like demons. Both of us with our woodland encounter fresh on our minds. Falling asleep happy without realising that a golden shower kink had been born.

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It wasn’t long after that we bought our first house together. There was lots of work to be done as the previous owner had been elderly. This also meant that instead of a bathroom, there was a wet room. No bath but a shower and a toilet in a sealed open space that was easily cleaned. This worked for us as we were more interested in updating the kitchen and the garden.

We worked hard - both on the house and in our jobs - but we always took Friday nights off. Good wine and bad TV accompanied by takeaway food. And whenever we got drunk and horny, my boyfriend would bring up our time in the woods. And one night as we neared the end of our second bottle, he confessed how much he would love to see me pee again - maybe even on him. Saying he just wanted to try it. This always made me laugh, but I could see he was deadly serious as I finished off my final glass. Wild and horny, I told him to wait one moment and disappeared to the bedroom.

I reappeared 10 minutes later wearing my lime green underwear, my ‘fuck me’ heels, and a wicked grin on my face. Not saying anything, just beckoning him with a finger. My boyfriend thought we were bedroom bound - but I led him to the bathroom instead.

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It all started while we were drinking wine and watching Netflix - the usual Hollywood erotica. A good looking piece of meat with stubble slamming a girl up against a wall. Kissing her roughly. Fingers in her hair. Tongues everywhere. Groins censored. Fake-fucking brutally. My disillusioned husband made a comment - one that would change our relationship.

“In reality, women don’t want that shit! I mean, c’mon! Who fucks like that?”

My pause said it all.

And so did the silence that followed.

My husband was a caring, thoughtful lover; but sometimes I wanted more. More passion. I wanted to be fucked. Used. Dominated. Treated like the girl on screen. So after a gulp of red, I confessed all. Right there and then - straight to his face.

After thinking for a while, my husband turned off the movie, pinned me to the couch and fucked the life out of me. Making me come hard from his aggressive thrusts alone. Introducing angry sex role play into our relationship.

There was no going back.

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That was over two years ago - we are now pros. Our sessions safe and organised. Brutal with just enough aggression to get us both off. Below is a typical weekend rough fuck.

I always put my hair up and slip into my favourite balcony bra. I then add a pre-bought blouse and some panties to my body, both inexpensive and ready to be ripped. My husband stays outside the room and strips in the bathroom across the hall; jerking himself into a passionate state. Getting ready for his big entrance as I add the final touches of deep lipstick and perfume. Reminding myself of our safe word.

A word that I won’t need.

He storms in; his manner and cock aggressive. All muscles, tattoos, and a thick gold chain I bought him for our 5th wedding anniversary. He grabs my shoulders and slams me against the nearest surface, making the thin drywall tremble - along with my pussy. Then, with intense eye contact, his hands are around my throat, just tight enough to thrill me safely. He pulls my face to his, but I fight his grip; making him earn my lips. His stubble and kisses are as rough as fuck as I fake fight against him. Pretending to resist but loving every suck and tiny bite on my face.

I let out a faux protest as his hands move to my shoulders, pushing me down violently to where he wants me to be - in line with his angry cock. A cock that is already spitting pre-cum. With one hand behind my head, the other pulls my chin open ready for entry.

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Around once or twice a year, we book into an expensive hotel - a suite - not a room. In reality we cannot afford such luxury. Such extravagance. But in a way, our relationship can’t afford to live without these sessions. So with the kids at home with my parents, along with our wedding bands and responsibilities, we enter the hotel.

We give false names at…

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He was upstairs — working and stressed. She was downstairs — bored and hungry. But not just for food.

Hungry for life.

Hungry for attention.

Hungry for…something.

The peaches in the fruit bowl had been there for days. Not quite ready. Too firm and easy to ignore. But today was different. Now they were perfect, and just like her, desperate for attention. She took one. The fruit felt good in her hand. Just an edge of softness. Its velvet skin a joy to hold as her lustful mind turned over and over.

She headed upstairs.

”Hungry Baby?”

He hadn’t heard her approaching, her bare feet making no sound on the stairs. Peach in hand, she was wearing a white cotton vest, short shorts, and a wicked smile on her face. He tried to ignore the look. He had been fighting with the report in front of him for over an hour, a battle that was nearly won.

He said he was ‘fine’.

“OK. Suit yourself.”

But he was far from ‘fine’, and couldn’t help but look as she took a bite of the forbidden fruit. A messy bite, letting the juice run down her chin onto her spotlessly clean white vest. A vest that did little to hide her bra free chest and erect nipples.

His wife chewed the peach’s flesh — mouth closed with an exaggerated moan.

“Mmmmmmm….”

His groin quickly told him the report could wait.

He tried to match her sexiness as he got up and approached. Moving slowly. Keeping eye contact. She gave him an excited smile, but not for his clumsy efforts. She smiled because he was now playing her game.

He reached for the peach.

“Ah..ah!”

She kept the fruit in her hand, slowly offering the peach to his lips instead. He took a bite. A large passionate bite, taking nearly half the soft fruit in his mouth. Still chewing, he moved close, his hand slipping easily into her elasticated shorts. His hand then slipping down her lace fronted g-string. Her sex was hot. It was wet. It was ripe and ready to be eaten, just like the dripping peach in her hand.

He dropped to his knees, working her shorts and underwear down her legs as she continued to lick and suck the fruit. And as she did this - he began to lick and suck her. His wife’s clit far more delicious than any fruit. His probing fingers making her feet twist and her mouth moan. Her shorts still around her ankles as she leaned back against the door frame for support and came in her husband’s mouth.

Both of their chins now wet and sticky.

Two peaches eaten.

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Hot Pink

Hot Pink - the home of erotica about desire, power and raw unfiltered sex. 18+ NSFW content for adults only. 🔞

By VT 🩷

It started with a free coffee, and ended up with the fuck of my life! An unbelievable experience that I think about most days - especially when I take my daily hit of caffeine.

I was in the city for a meeting. A meeting that had been so dull that I needed a mid-morning coffee to wake me up. I found my preferred coffee chain and walked in. Although the place was busy, there was no queue, a brief lull in the caffeine madness.

And there she was — in her twenties, sexy eyes beneath a wide hair band. A killer smile. Short nails manicured to perfection. I was instantly in love and started playfully flirting — nothing serious, as I was nearly twice her age. I asked about the trials of making coffee all day, and we talked briefly about my job, me trying not to bore her about my role as a chemical engineer. She seemed really into the conversation and was I imagining it — or was she flirting back? Maybe she did this with all the customers, not only desperate 36-year old men. Anyway, there was a tiny pause as I pulled my phone out to pay.

“You know what? You can have it on me!”

It was only a small gesture, but it made me feel like a super stud. Afterwards, I made sure I sat close with my laptop so I could watch her in action. Every now and then, our eyes met. And each time I got the same cock tingling smile. This carried on until my day got even better! As my coffee angel took her break, she slipped a piece of paper next to my empty cup, before walking off with another dick stiffening grin. Scrawled in green ink was her number and a message that simply said: CALL ME, L x. What the actual fuck!

Believe it or not, that piece of paper sat on my kitchen table for over a week. What the hell did she see in a guy like me? Sure, I wasn’t bad looking, but things like this just didn’t happen in my world. I guess I was sceptical, and also worried about making a fool of myself. But I finally pulled myself together and messaged my sexy barista girl.

IT’S YOUR COFFEE GUY. THE CHEMICAL ENGINEER. REMEMBER ME?

Not the most inspiring message, but her reply was sweet.

OF COURSE! WHAT ARE YOU UP TO?

Now what? I was so out of practice in the dating arena, especially with such a young woman. I messaged back asking if she wanted to meet for a drink. Her reply made my heart sink and balls shrivel.

SORRY. LONG DAY ON MY FEET :(

But then my phone pinged again!

BUT WHY DON’T YOU COME OVER? MAYBE BRING A BOTTLE OF RED?

My heart and balls instantly jumped back to life on reading this! Her address followed, and I was sat in the back of a taxi in under an hour with an expensive bottle of wine in my hand.

My coffee girl opened the door to her second floor apartment looking amazing. Barefoot, black jeans rolled up, silky blouse revealing just a hint of black lace beneath. After an awkward cheek kiss at the door, I followed her to the sofa, where we sat and opened the wine. Just like before, the conversation was easy, not that I was listening much, distracted by the hard-on in my jeans.

Two glasses in, things got real interesting as my coffee crush stretched out, her toes pushing against my thigh. She said her feet were killing, and would I mind giving her a foot rub? I didn’t need asking twice! I put my wine down and got to work, past caring that my erection was now obvious in my lap.

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If you look closely enough you can see it.

The Hook on the ceiling in our bedroom.

Small and black.

Deceptively strong.

Bolted to a joist through the plasterboard next to the light fitting.

Or little BDSM secret.

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I am the dominant one, but my wife is the one that commands The Hook.

She is the one who decides when it gets used.

When she gets used.

This normally happens with a knowing smile before she gets in the shower. So while she is in the bathroom - I casually walk in the bedroom. And all the things she needs and wants are laid out there. The leather corset. The crop. The small length of chain. The blindfold. The wand vibrator. And of course, the fur lined leather cuffs that will secure her. The ones that will soon be above her head.

I stand with my arms folded when she eventually joins me. Nothing more than a towel and a mess of wet hair. Beautiful white skin and plentiful flesh. Breasts designed by God himself. She dries herself fully - and her hair partially - as I watch. And when that towel drops…we begin.

My wife wraps the corset around her body first. Effortlessly securing it. Constraining her perfect form behind expensive leather but leaving her black haired pussy exposed. She looks fucking amazing, but my jaw stays taut as my cock stiffens in my trousers.

Time to dominate.

I approach and secure the cuffs one by one, with as much eye contact as possible. I then move to the bed and fetch the crop. Not to punish but to titillate. The heart shaped tip of the crop moving across her skin. Even to her face. Soft touches for now that are already making her impressive chest rise and fall.

No more eye contact as I take away her sight with the blindfold. Securing it tightly so she can see nothing yet hear everything. I take advantage of this. Swishing the crop through the air close to her body. Making her draw breath and her pussy moisten. Dominating with sound alone.

Time for The Hook. The small length of chain attached before I manhandle my wife into position. Only noticing now that she has applied lipstick as I secure her arms above her head. Now almost on pedicured tiptoes. Her body now suspended.

Her body now mine.

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It all started about three years into our marriage. Money was tight and my young husband took the night shift. Spending long hours in the factory while I slept at home. Coming home tired. The constant jet lag of shiftwork playing havoc with our time together - including our sex life.

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We made sure we kept on top of things. Staying horny and connected. Dat…

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My husband is a conservative man.

And I am a conservative woman.

Our sex life has always been ‘OK’.

He tells me he loves me every time he comes.

And I always take his words and seed gratefully.

But sex could be so much more to m…

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The blowjob - such a simple yet sexy act - but so hot. Discover my sample collection of steamy oral erotica right here. Whether you're in the mood for sweet submission or hotwife worship, you'll find your next favorite fantasy here. Dive in and enjoy... if you dare. 😈 All kicking off super detailed story all about - you guessed it - a blowjob!

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Want som…

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