I can’t think of how I would have reacted back then, to my husband paying a prostitute for sex. I had never given the matter much thought beyond the pedestrian feeling that it’s a bad thing; that the women who do it are either pitiable drug addicts or victims of some sort or that they are shrewd, manipulating gold diggers. But again – beyond TV and maybe a sermon or two in church, my exposure to these women and their work was nil. But had I discovered that my husband had gone to one, had I discovered it any time prior to this particular evening, I know I would have felt cheated on (as hypocritical as the feeling was in my case, I admit), I think I would have been more hurt than if it had not been for money, and I think it would have been more dirty. In the gutter, in the muck, unattractive type dirty. I can’t explain it but even thought these thoughts were wafting through my brain in some vague, spectral form, I didn’t feel those taints about what I was obviously about to do. Yes, having to pay came with its own set of emotions but Maya had done her work well and knew how to soften that blow. Showing my gratitude afterward made it seem more genuinely like gratitude rather than payment due. And I suppose I would have liked to say I was mesmerized by her beauty as her dress fell to the floor and she stood there in black lace bra and panties with a midnight deep purple trim… but the reality was that I had made my decision before that. I did not ask her to leave on either of the two occasions she offered. The fact of the matter was, though hearing of the “arrangement” came as a shock, once it settled in I wanted her just as badly.

And she stood there in those under things. They were simple. I would have expected something elaborate like suspenders and belts and silk stockings. Maybe a corset or something like one sees in the movies when a Lady of the Evening comes to call. But no. Maya stood there in a bra and pants, very expensive and looking perfect for her figure and I must say… perfect for my mood. And I drank her in. She was slim but not skinny. Her hair was cut above the shoulder and jet black. Her skin had just a bit of an olive tint and appeared the same color all over her body. I would confirm soon enough that she didn’t have tans lines at all. Her breasts were beautifully round with nipples pointing up and out, as I could see through the bra. They were hardening in front of me and were growing quite large. And I had to wonder if they would droop at all when they slipped from their support because they seemed to defy gravity. Her waist came in beautifully and rounded out into such sensuous hips my tongue nearly fell out. That curve from ribs on down to her outer thighs was more perfect than I’ve seen in pictures or the silver screen. I could just make out the muscles in her belly and that super sexy line of her lower belly curving down and in, under her belly button, into the tops of her pants. I nearly felt I would suffocate. I don’t know how long I stared at her and just drank her in but I felt a pain in my fingertips and realized I had lit a cigarette, forgotten about it, and let it burn down to the filter. I snuffed it, lit another, took a cool drink of G&T and sat back and smiled. The smile of the happy Buddha. The combination of my anticipation, the knowledge that this was just the beginning, the unearthly beauty and sex appeal before me, and my just plain old hornyness was bliss. I could now let this stretch out forever.

As I sat and smoked and admired, Maya began walking around the room turning on all the tabletop and floor lamps. I was a bit curious about this until she turned off the overhead and I saw that the light was just right. There was plenty to see what I would want to see and yet with varying brightness. Also, as I would note a bit later, the light from the side mean fewer and less harsh shadows in those good bits when my head was right over them. Picture yourself about to go down on the most fantastic ass in heaven and earth but your head is casting a shadow right where you want to see the most. Well, Maya anticipated this and made arrangements. A professional’s attention to detail. But I also just enjoyed the way she moved. Maya walked slowly around the room, the lounge as I had engaged a suite, while at her task. She swayed gently as she moved. Something between a natural walk and a dancer’s, across a stage.

The lighting having been seen too, Maya went and sat down in a plush, wide, chair opposite the sofa. I got up, handed her her drink and cigs and sat opposite her. She lit up, took her glass and put her feet, wide apart on the low table between us. I gazed into her crotch. Though the lace was black I could swear I saw a small wet spot. She began to rub herself there gently.

“Do you want to undress?” she asked with a most matter of fact tone. “I have to admit, I am rather eager to see your butt. It looks wonderful beneath your skirt.” And she smiled.

I was now feeling more secure, in an, if not exactly my, element I could work in. I lit another cigarette and drew slowly and long.

“I like to look at women play with themselves in the internet but I have never seen one masturbate in real life. I would like to watch you make yourself come.”

Maya laughed, “You are certainly mastering your role tonight. I thought you would be timid and need me to lead you.”

“You may.” I smiled at her and continued, “But I think I came just asking you. It’s more direct than I’m used to being even at home. I like it.”

We both laughed. It was a very strange feeling. It’s hard to imagine the air practically crackling with sexual electricity and yet feeling so at ease as if with an old friend joking about… oh I don’t know – something personal like our husbands love making noises. And yet it really was swimming with sex. But I felt I was in control. I guess since I was paying, but it didn’t enter my mind in exactly those terms. She was easy to be with but a stranger nonetheless and I didn’t need to worry about what she might think or if she would run away screaming. Anyway – being so direct was an extreme turn on in and of itself.

She snubbed out her butt end, took a deep sip of her drink, and leaned back in her chair. She let her hands roam that goddess’s body of hers, her fingertips gently tracing lines up and down her belly and her waist, around her navel and down her inner thighs which spread wider when she did. I began feeling myself get drawn back into that zone of Mesmer and glamor; that of feeling my peripheral vision shrinking and of sounds growing muted; that of little more than her long slim fingers gracefully gliding around her nearly nude body. She slowly got up and walked over to me with her eyes half closed and sat on the edge of the table near me. She leaned in close to me, reached back behind her back and unsnapped her bra. For a few moments she swayed only a few inches in front of me, holding the cups of her bra to her breasts and then… She let it fall away. Those breasts were gorgeous. Round, certainly more than a handful, and the nipples pointed up at me of their own accord. I wanted to reach out and feel them, to suck them. But I wanted more, to hold back. To stretch this out as long as possible. And so hold back I did. She stood and still with here eyes barely open she felt and kneaded those beautiful orbs, pinching her nipples and letting out tiny gasps. Maya then turned and walked back toward her chair and when she arrived she leaned down, almost as if falling and caught herself, hands on the chair’s arms. And for the first time that night I stared right at her perfect, perfect ass. From her round hips there grew the two most lovely round cheeks ever. And above each was a deep dimple. Though completely dressed and not touching myself at all I was on the verge of orgasm there on the spot. Had I moved my thighs just a little toward each other I would have, but again I resisted. And I fell deeper into hypnosis as I watched her fingers hook the waistband and slowly pull her pants down. With each sway I could see her asshole. And I could see her labia sliding against each other, quite obviously well lubricated already. She stepped out of her pants, spread her legs wide and ran her hand around her vagina and a finger between her lips. It looked to me that the tremor I noticed in her knees was real enough and she turned and sat back down in the chair. Back in her previous position but naked now, I watched her fingers resume their journey around her body. Only now as they passed her nipples they stopped to fiddle and pinch. And when they made their way up and down her inner thighs I could see a definite quiver as her legs opened wider and wider. And of course, when her middle finger traced the cleft of her pussy from the bottom near her anus up toward her clit I had a clear, fantastic view thanks to her forethought and lighting skills.

With two fingers she spread her lips and slipped her middle finger into her vagina. As she frigged herself her other hand kept tracing circles around her breasts and occasionally pinched a nipple. Soft, but no longer tiny, moans and gasps escaped her lips. And her body was beginning to writhe and twist in her chair. Then I watched as she used all her fingers to rub herself from the outside, holding her clit between two fingers. After about the third stroke like this she moaned deeply and a shudder swept her whole body from head to foot. I loved watching her because I knew exactly the feeling. This wasn’t the orgasm, it was a warm-up. It was touching the magic spot that would produce the orgasm, now that her body was sensitized enough. If she responded like me she could now push herself over in about two seconds at any time. Or, she could hold herself letting the energy build and enjoying the feeling that one’s entire body is a sex organ.

I lit a cigarette and poured more G&T, hating the fact that I had to look away for about 7 seconds.

“Take your time darling. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Maya smiled and I saw that she slowed her pace a little.

“Talk to me.” She said slowly in a very husky voice. “Tell me what you want to see.”

“I want to watch you give yourself an orgasm.”

“Oh you will. But I want to show you everything… Tell me.”

“I like watching you finger yourself with one finger.”

Again she smiled. With her left hand she began slowly messaging her clit. She ran a fingertip around it’s naked little head and then ran a couple fingers up and down the shaft and back down. She rubbed the hood back and forth over the little man. And she repeated this. Again I smiled seeing much of my own technique at play, so to speak. My maintenance hand as I called it. With the other she spread her lips wide and slipped that middle finger back into her puckered tiny hole. Back and forth and back… Her body twisted and her face contorted as if she were being tortured only the expressions running across her face occasionally included such angelic smiles there could be no mistaking her bliss for agony.

“Ohhh, that’s beautiful.” I told her. “I could watch you for hours.”

I watched as her finger burrowed itself deeper. She made circles with her whole hand as if trying to stretch the opening to her vagina. At the extremes I could see inside her just a little.

“Now turn around so I can see your bum.”

Maya smiled at me, she seemed to be enjoying taking my orders. And when she aimed that amazing ass at me I nearly cried. It was brilliant. Looking at her stick her bum high into the air, seeing her bum hole clear as day, and watching her finger disappear inside her pussy was bliss. She rubbed herself and fingered herself.

“Please, finger your bum.”

Maya slid her very wet finger out of her pussy and slid it around the rim of her anus. Several times. I guess it was an uncomfortable position because she turned round again, nearly into her former position but with her bum more on the edge and then she raised her legs. This was the view I needed. Her maintenance hand was back at work. She slid her probing finger into her mouth and tasted and lubricated. And then I watched it slip into her ring. I watched her sphincter expand to take it. And I saw it vanish to the second knuckle.

I was fit to burst at this point. Still dressed and still virgin, as far as that night was concerned. I could only imagine what state Maya was in. Poor girl had been masturbating for me for about three quarters of an hour now.

“Let yourself go, love.”

She dug her finger just a bit deeper into her ass and began really working the other hand. Her body began twisting as if in a hurricane. Her moans became one steady hum which rose in crescendo as her rhythm increased. And then she yelled.

“OHHHhhh…..”

I watched her entire vagina pulsate and contract. I watched as her asshole pinched her finger. I watched her juices pour from her. I watched her body tense up like a bowstring and release. And, not being able to hold back, I dived face first and drove my tongue into her drenched pussy, licking up her orgasmic juices… drinking, as if from a cool well after days in the desert. After far too short a time, perhaps 10 or 15 seconds she pulled my head away.

“I’m sorry but I’, much too sensitive just now.”

I smiled at her, wiped the excess from the bottom half of my face, and lit us each a cigarette.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever experience… with my clothes on.”

Maya chuckled a bit. She, very gently now and with legs still spread wide as if too exhausted for anything else, rubbed the lower part of hr slit near her entrance.

“I think we will have to do something about that.” She said.

And with that the most beautiful naked woman on earth came over to undress me.

And they say porn is bad?

[PS - Before I get lectures.... There is no shit and no bacteria in my fantasies.]

After my evening with Shelly from the sex shop (see Power Toys Pts 1 & 2) I sort of went on a bender you could say. She had been my first deliberate lover, the first one for whom I picked up the phone and made a call explicitly expecting sex. Anyway, having crossed that Rubicon; actually making a date and kept it and so thoroughly enjoyed it, I began feeling more and more randy. More intensely and more an more often. Continuously, even. Every skirt I saw made my thoughts dive straight up it and into whatever hole I found there. I wondered about each attractive woman I saw – if I could have her and if so, how. I had very hard times negotiating with nice looking women – that advantage I’d always enjoyed over most of my male counterparts had now come back to mock me. I didn’t actually do anything about it. I mean, I felt as frustrated as a 15 year old boy (at least so I assume). I was constantly on edge, constantly horny, and just plain tense. At first I could take it out in bed with my husband and he certainly enjoyed my newfound energy therein. I was a wildcat. But it didn’t satisfy me much. I came and all but there was no relief. None of that bone deep satisfaction I used to get from his attentions. This was all around springtime and as summer approached it only worsened.

Now I have a job where I travel a great deal. I am on the road for over 30 weeks out of the 52. Mostly in Europe and the US but I am also in Asia and Australia a few times each year. I won’t mention exactly what I do because there aren’t that many women in my field and though the risk of being discovered through this blog is slight I simply don’t want to take it. But think of a corporate lawyer or a very high level accountant and you’ll be close enough. I have to be very sharp in my job. Great heaps of my clients’ money depend on my wits. So I simply couldn’t let my work suffer too much or too long. The situation became intolerable.

I began looking for opportunity whenever I sipped my G&T in the hotel bars. I trolled like the lounge lizards I’d spent most of my free time avoiding. And I was no pro at it. Trying to feel out whether this woman or that was up to a bit of a romp without showing my hand was something I found as difficult as handling a deal worth many millions or Euros.

And so it was in such a state that I found myself in yet another airport Hilton, this one in Eastern Europe. I had concluded talks with a client a day early and so had an extra day before flying back home. It was early when I got to the hotel, perhaps around 4 in the afternoon. So I decided to have a bath and then go down to the bar. The weather was lousy so I didn’t feel like wandering the city, one I could recognize from postcards but wasn’t much more familiar with than that. I was tired. In the tub I let the stress of that last several day of talks and maneuvering melt away from me. With only the light slipping in past the door I’d left ajar I drifted. No bubbles. No wine. No candles. Just darkness and heat. Various images and thoughts flitted through my brain like moths in a breeze. I hardly had time to register them before they zipped off someplace. A few sexual ones blinked passed but I was mildly surprised, didn’t take. Actually – it was a bit of a relief. I soaked for about 45 min and then began getting bored. I dressed and put on a face without really thinking. Comfort was key which my travel wardrobe provides for with business casual. I don’t recall what I actually wore but it was probably a sporty khaki skirt, plain under things, a blouse that might have been silk given I was planning to go down to the bar, and black or navy pumps. Boring. But I do remember that as I dressed I began to wonder if I’d be trolling again and concluded that I probably would be. That sexual tension was beginning to make itself known following my little respite in my bath. The result was that I put on a showier bra and unbuttoned the top button or two on my blouse. I generally felt foolish since I was used to men coming after me regardless of whether I pimped my breasts or not. And here I was pimping all the while knowing my success rate at this game – zero.

Half past five found me down the pub. I sat the bar sipping my G&T making small talk with the bartenders. One was a man of about 30 – fairly big, dark haired and well built,  a nice guy named Pavel who made the time slip passed. The other was a woman named Ana who, like an awful lot in that city I’d noticed, was strikingly beautiful. She had long, straight, dark hair that shone and moved in waves as she went back and forth behind the bar. She had a light, almost birdlike, built. And lovely smallish breasts that bobbed just a bit as she moved. Her English wasn’t as good as his but she tried and it was an awful lot of fun to hear her giggle. I ordered some food and took it at a table where I read a book – Dan Brown probably (I read them all summer). His work isn’t terribly good, especially if you read more than one (it’s incredibly formulaic – basically the same plot in every book) but he has a definite talent for writing you can’t set down easily. By about 8ish I had finally finished it – the hero got the girl like in every single one of his books – looked around and decided to go back to the bar. Less than ½ the stools were occupied so the bartenders weren’t all that busy and I returned to the bar for more drink and chat. I could see that the lousy weather outside had turned into a steady downpour and even though my mood and good energy levels had risen a bit, that rain told me I was definitely in for the night.

And so we chatted and joked and when a woman about 2 or 3 stools down from me began participating in our fun and games it was seamless. I’d barely noticed. But when I finally did notice I did a genuine double take. This woman I’d been sitting next too for who knows how long and with whom, along with Ana and Pavel, I’d been chatting for with for maybe 15 or 20 minutes was a goddess. Anna was beautiful but this one was of another league, another universe, altogether.

There are some women who are so breathtakingly beautiful I’m filled, when I see them, with an emptiness, an ache, and an almost holy joy and longing and for no particular reason at all, I want to weep. Catherine Zeta Jones (especially in those otherwise dreadful Zorro movies) is one such woman. Nicole Kidman can be another. They tend to dwell on the silver screen and in pages of fashion magazines and one thing I’d always assumed about such goddesses is that they were Hollywood creations. Industrial strength light and make-up magic. But I was wrong.

I don’t know if anyone noticed that I’d stopped breathing except for her. Her smile truly and honestly dazzled me and only after I’d caught my breath did I notice that Ana and Pavel were both off serving customers. She held out her hand and simply said, “Maya.” I introduced myself and regained a bit of my composure. I didn’t know what to say. As stupid as it sounds I’d never been in the presence of human beauty like hers. There was no flaw, not a single thing out of place, nothing. Her makeup was simple but just right. Her clothes were also fairly simple but left anyone who saw her with the knowledge that her body was beautiful – with a very generous slit up the side of her skirt. And her manner was also simply charming and at ease. Ironically had she been just a notch less perfect I might have felt like a homely klutz but comparing myself to her was so outrageous it didn’t even cross my mind. Hence I didn’t really act stupid or stutter or say idiotic things – after those first few seconds anyway. I was perfectly able to make jokes and let my own charm flow and when A & P returned we made a happy foursome. Pavel arrived first and said, “Ah. So I see you introduced yourselves.” And he winked at me. It was obvious that the three of them knew each other but I thought nothing of it as Maya drank her drinks and I mine.

Business began getting brisker and so 2 things happened. First thing was that our bartenders had less time for chat and second, Maya moved to the stool next to mine – to make room and so we could be heard better. After refreshing our drinks she asked, “So, are you in town on business?”

“Yes.” I said and explained in brief what my week had been like.

“That sounds very stressful.” Said Maya. “I’d need a week of lovely massage and hot tubs after something like that.”

“And you?” I asked.

She fixed my gaze and said, “I’m here just for pleasure.” And her foot grazed my calf as she said “pleasure”. I thought it had been my imagination but when I glanced down she excused herself, though I recall thinking that the apology was a bit coquettish. I felt a touch lightheaded. I’m sure it was just for an instant but I suddenly felt about ten times drunker than I was (I’d only had three or four G&T’s in the over four hours I was there – plus dinner). Normally I’d swear she was inviting me but I couldn’t think of why. I chose to chalk it up to the sexual tension and gin and ignore it.

We chatted on nicely for about 10 minutes. Then I had to go to the loo. When I got back I saw Maya was following Ana up and down the bar with her eyes. I stopped for a moment and watched her. I confirmed that observation. I slid back onto my stool and without breaking her gaze Maya said, “She is lovely, don’t you think?”

“Yup.” I said enjoying the leer. “I’ve been enjoying her all evening.”

“I know.”

“You do? How?”

Maya smiled a bit impishly, “I’ve been watching you.”

Those four words hit me like a wave. The things she had said and done in the last hour or so hit me. My lust hit me. And again my disbelief. She couldn’t possibly be picking me up. Of the thousands of hotel bars I’ve been in I have never been hit on by a woman. Many men have had their go but… And why this gorgeous thing and why now? It didn’t make sense.

“I noticed,” she continued, “that you gave more attention to Ana than to Pavel, and he’s a nice looking man.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Not at all. I observe people a lot. I try to figure them out. Do you mind?”

I had to think for a few seconds. It was a little strange but if her observations lead to what now seemed a possibility then I wouldn’t complain if she stuck me under a microscope.

“I don’t think I do, really. It’s just a little strange. And so what else did you learn?”

“Not all that much. You’re married, but that’s obvious from your ring.” She leaned in close to me, so I could feel her warmth and smell her perfume for the first time, “And I don’t think you’re a lesbian.”

Maya chuckled and sat back as she was. She smiled her impish smile again and said, “But from your object of attention and a couple of your reaction with me this evening I’m betting you could be interested in some intense relaxation in your room and with me.”

At that I almost choked on the sip of G&T I was taking. But I was glad it gave me that split second to consider.

“That is the most forward thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Am I wrong?”

I looked her in those deep dark fantastic eyes and told her, “No. You’re not wrong. But I’m having a little trouble figuring out why with me. You don’t strike me as a lesbian either.”

“I’m not.” She replied easily. “I’m just don’t feel bound by those labels. And you are a lovely woman and I’ve enjoyed my chat with you. And…”

I was getting very, very strongly turned on by now. It was clear, it was obvious, it was going to happen. I still could not for the life of me figure out why but one doesn’t question such opportunities. I wanted it, I wanted her, I was so far beyond questioning if it was right, what anyone would think and all that, and I was going to make damn sure I didn’t fuck it up somehow.

I finished my drink and asked, “Shall we have another?”

“Is there any point?” she asked.

Pavel and Ana both grinned from ear to ear as we left. They looked a bit silly, really.

We shared the elevator with an elderly couple and didn’t speak. I thought that even they must have felt the sexual tension between us. Now that it was a sure thing my body was screaming to touch her, to be touched and nibbled and licked. Her perfume, something fruity and light, from Chanel I think, gently filled the car and  intoxicated me all the more. Finally we got out and though it was only a few feet to my door I wasn’t sure I’d make it. When the door shut behind us I wanted to grab Maya and slip my tongue into her mouth but she slipped aside from me. I was a bit confused at first but decided not to be so eager. I fixed a couple drinks and we sat down at the table.

“There is one small thing.” Maya began. “It’s the matter of gratitude. It’s unpleasant, I know, but I feel it’s best to set expectation from the outset. Men usually leave me 500 Euros or more. Women I am happy to share my time with more openly. They offer me at least 300.”

She looked perfectly natural as she lit her cigarette and waited, I suppose, for me to reach for my purse.

Now even as I write this I realize how obvious the signs were. The very effective but yet almost businesslike manner in which she gradually let on that sex was an option. I had been too drunk with her beauty to notice. And the way she got me out of the pub and into my room without any fuss or discussion on which room to choose… As the realization unfolded in my head and Maya sat quietly smoking I began to feel tricked, offended, even angry. Was her talk about my attractiveness a lie? Was I really that obviously out trolling that I made an easy mark? And was I supposed to actually pay for sex?

Maya coughed gently which brought my attention back to her. “Look,” she said very matter of factly, “I can see you didn’t expect this turn of events and I’ll leave if you like. But I honestly wouldn’t be here now if what I said downstairs wasn’t true. There are several men there who would be most generous if that was my only consideration.”

I believed her. I thought about it. And the it hit me. Those smiles. That wink Pavel gave me. They knew! They knew Maya because she worked out of their bar. And when I left with her… I was mortified. They saw me leave with a prostitute, one of my own gender no less,  there would be no two and two to put together. I dropped my face into my hands and just said, “Pavel…”

Maya smiled and took my head into her hands. “Of course they know but why on earth would you care? They certainly don’t. And if you happen to see them tomorrow I am very sure they won’t bring it up unless you do.”

“Have you ever made love to a woman before?”

I nodded.

“But not often. Am I right?”

I nodded again.

“Then it is this arrangement that is new to you.”

There was no question. She knew.

“It is something special. Your gratitude is not for the act itself. It is for the fact that I can make this a very pleasant and special evening for you. I can focus all my attention on you and your desires. I enjoy pleasing women and it’s rare that I get too, especially one so pretty. Pleasing a man who expects it and probably wouldn’t know how to pleasure a woman in any situation is simply not as much fun, so I expect more of their gratitude. I meant what I said about the gentlemen at the bar. And I will leave if this is uncomfortable for you. Do you want me too?”

She took a couple more drags of her cigarette. I said nothing. Then she stood up and began unfastening her dress. I reached for my purse.

“Now that we understand each other, later will do.”

And her dress fell to the floor.

I have also been very busy with work.

But I wanted to let you know I’m still here and will begin again once things settle down I’ll write more.

But… (pardon the pun hee hee) My favorite girlie site has start started collecting pictures for and Anus as Art series. I love it. I think it’s hilarious – I don’t know if he (she? I dunno) is serious with it or not. But here you go:
Anus as Art #1
Anus as Art #2
Anus as Art #3

It’s like they did it for me – as anyone who’s read my postings will know. Yum

I was on my way home from work. I’d stopped to do a bit of Christmas shopping along the way and it was a cold night. I’d managed a book, moderately well suited for my sister, another for myself and a toy tank for my nephew. No one would be home for another couple hours and so I popped into a pub just off the square. The heat blasted me like a desert wind as I entered. It quickly went beyond comfort and relief to overwhelming. I was quite glad to step away from it and into the smoky main dining room. Having shaken the little snow from my coat and hung it, I looked around. The place was fairy full, and for the first time, I realized, fairly noisy as well. It was a pleasant, holiday type of cacophony which I like. I found a spot at a table, sharing it with a middle aged couple.

I ordered a pint of bitter and opened my book. Recent non-fiction by Pinker.

When my bitter arrived I chanced to look across to the table opposite me. There she sat. The owner of that mouth. I was immediately transfixed by its movement. My field of vision seemed to close in, as if I’d zoomed in on that mouth with my camera. The sounds around me became muted like when I put my earplugs in at night. And I watched it’s movement.

The corners had a slight upturn. The edges of her lips had a slight sort of blurriness, as if more undefined than ordinarily. And when she smiled, which was often, it was the middle of her upper lip which did most of the rising. The corners turned down a bit. It was angelic. It was sin incarnate.

For the next hour or so I tried to read but mostly just stole covert glances of her from behind my book. I examined her face. It was a pretty face. But again what really fascinated me was the way it moved. Little twitches and quirks. The wrinkle at the bridge of her nose for just a moment before a laugh erupts. The smile line behind her eye which deepened just a bit and made her smile somehow more sincere. The way her tongue came out just that immeasurable fraction more than necessary and made her mouth always wet, supple, wanting…wanted. And then she got up. She moved like a dancer; graceful, flowing , feline. Her hips seemed to guide the rest of her body around the edge of the table and backs of chairs, through the lose crowds round the bar to the lavatory doors. I half expected one of the men she passed to take her hand and spin her. Her breasts were ample but not large and moved wonderfully beneath her dress. Her hips and bottom had that roundness that makes my hands ache, with minds of their own, to grab hold. And I could just make out the cleft down her bottom under her skirt – even as it shifted as she walked. I’m sure I visibly salivated just thinking about the dimples I am still now sure were tucked above each half; dimples I love on any woman but because of the size and apple or peach like shape of this ass, I am sure must be absolutely sublime.

Upon her return I was blessed with a long view of the room as she danced back to her party. She really was beautiful.

And then, to my dismay, the entire party began standing up, putting on their coats and wrapping themselves up in mufflers and shawls. That fantastic, magnetic figure vanished beneath a great, black wool coat and her head under a fur lined hat. But that mouth, still wet, still wanted, smiled. Not at me for to her I was scenery if anything at all but it smiled for me nonetheless.

The cold air cleared my head a bit as I strolled about the square looking at the little shops and the lights and lovers in dark corners – young enough to both have the urgency, the need and to brave the December freeze to kiss and fondle. I felt as if I’d captured a little piece of warmth from the pub and wrapped it under my coat. And I enjoyed vague, undefined visions of that delectable woman rolling through my brain. I made my way to the trolley stop and she swam like a velvet eel through my inner sensorium. On the tram, as it more or sometimes less gently rocked and jolted my visions gained definition. I crossed my legs and realized I was surprised by the sensitivity I noticed between them. I flexed my thighs. I prayed that I looked asleep to the eight or ten other riders in the car. But I couldn’t keep the images from forcing me to pay attention to them nor the effect they had in my crotch. It was times like these which made me utterly and completely thankful to whatever god made us that a woman’s arousal is so much easier to keep to herself than a man’s. As if simply bundling myself up against the chill I snuggled myself deeper into my coat and let my hand rest just where it could do me most good slipped under the waistband of my trousers. But in my mind it caressed Her. It slid down her shoulder. It cupped her breast, ran down her waist and round her glorious hips. It dug gently into her bottom and it cupped her sex. It circled her navel, nipple, her throat. It traced a path round her lips. And despite the heat in the tram I shivered as a finger slid into that sucking, that warm, that wet, that mouth.

An hour later I left with a tiny and unbelievably strong vibrator with little nubbly things on the end, a long flexible thin one, another with a bend – for my G-Spot she’d said – and much to my own surprise having left my telephone number with her. She was quite a bit younger than me – perhaps as much as 10 years. She had black, shoulder length hair, was on the short and plump side, had medium size breasts, and a beautiful round, lush, luxurious bottom. She was rather pretty. While shopping she had been quite flirty and I enjoyed it. She let me try the strength of the vibrators through my jeans and made cute and lewd comments about not supposed to have live sex acts on the shop floor and whatnot. And as I paid, she almost offhandedly asked if I didn’t want help with my new purchases. I let it pass without response. She bagged my toys, threw in some lubricant and I was about to leave when I returned and without saying anything… wrote out my mobile number and left. I didn’t know if she’d been at all serious and I wasn’t sure what I thought I was doing but…

I got home, quickly heated some supper, watched the tele, procrastinated. And then I got myself a bottle of gin and went to my work room. I made myself comfortable and went through my routine websites. As I got more excited I reached for my first toy. The little mini-vibe. I ran it up and down around my vagina and even through my jeans it was an amazing feeling. This little tyke has one strong motor. I didn’t want to come yet so I stayed far from my clit and even so, only ran the motor for 10 or 15 seconds at a time and then let myself cool down. I looked through some more pictures – had some more gin – and let my level go down some. This was going to be some evening.

I surfed to a site that has some nice vids – mostly female masturbation, as they so attractively call the category. I watched a very beautiful young blond play with herself using her fingers. She was lithe and long, slim yet still shapely. I loved watching her spread her lips and slip a finger into herself. She tugged at her clitoris. It was lovely. My hand was in my crotch the whole time. When she looked into the camera she had this sly little smile that made me so excited – it was like we were sharing a secret together. And when she had her orgasm I believed it. There was a dew of sweat on her brow, her cheeks flushed, and I could see her anus contracting. Ahhh that was nice…

Next I watched a more voluptuous girl dance in her school girl outfit. A white blouse, snug about her full breasts; her short plaid kilt, little white ankle socks, and black flats. Her waist was slender and her hips were wonderfully round. I watched her dance for a couple minutes and then I paused it. I undid my own blouse a bit and slid out of my jeans. My pants were already a bit moist. I decided to just get rid of them as well. Back at my desk, I got into position – feet up, knees wide apart, mouse hand up, puss hand down.

It was so lovely watching her dance herself out of her top… button by button her cleavage appeared. She turned to show her backside and teased with her skirt. She was the perfect choice for the costume – young and girlish and looked like she was still experimenting with her sexuality. I’m sure it was all an act but I liked it. I fancied myself her teacher, pointer in hand. Maybe it was because she was flirting with a boy in class or maybe she’d forgotten her assignments but I held her after class. As I lectured her she squirmed and curled her hair around her finger. I told her to stand. When she did a knowing look crossed her face. She began moving hr hips… just a little. And I watched her just that second too long and she knew. Her movement picked up a pace and she started dancing just like on my monitor. Now her skirt was on the floor. She reached back to lose her bra and that too fell away. Her breasts had a wonderful, full shape. Very firm yet they bobbed beautifully as she moved. And she bent over, showing her fantastic bottom. And she slowly slid down that last remaining garment above her ankles. It was bliss. I watched that several times – her ass emerge naked filling my screen. And again she was in my classroom, now naked and suddenly nervous. I still had the pointer in my hand. She stood, girlishly covering her vagina – and simultaneously squeezing her breasts together. I told her to bend over my desk. I told her to place her feet far apart. I could see her mound from behind and make out her lips. And the girl in my computer bent low and gave me a wonderful, clear view of her spread open bum. With the pointer I touched her bottom. I slid it between her lips and up and down her bottom crack. Her breathing grew deep and husky. And then I gave her a swat with the pointer – sharp but not hard enough to cause real pain. Just enough to surprise her and leave a pink line. I ran the shaft between her lips again, sliding it back and forth until it was quite wet and then another swat. She was barely able to stand now – all her weight on the desk. The pointer was very wet so it slid easily, just the tip, into her bottom. She turned her head and looked at me and I couldn’t hold myself back. I dropped the pointer and knelt behind this girl and her perfect ass and began licking and kissing her. First the cheeks and then her anus. In the computer she was now furiously rubbing herself in a doggie style position and easily imagined myself behind her looking at her bottom hole from inches away… smelling it…tasting it. I, of course, had been stoking myself this whole time and was now very close to bursting point. I still wanted to hold back so I had to pause the vid. I held my cold glass to my forehead and then made another drink.

Back in position, I pulled out the bent g-spot vibrator. I slid it up and down, just separating my very wet lips. I started the vid again and for a few minutes just watched her rubbing herself at her now frantic pace. I teased myself, running the tip of the vibe all around but not pushing it passed my inner labia yet. When she finished (this orgasm might have been real as well but either way – overacted) I surfed over to a site with vids I have seen many times. I found the one I wanted now. Good, old fashioned lesbian, anal hardcore. The two gorgeous women did all the things I love to think about. They licked each other’s vaginas deeply, suck the labes and clits. They open up and slip fingers in. And of course they each spend a lot of time with their partners bum. The shots of the rimming always take me over the top. The fingers sliding in those wonderful little brown holes . It’s all gentle, none of the pounding and ramming that seems to be in all hetero anal scenes. It’s gentle and slow, giving me ample time to get back to the top myself. So as I watched I slipped my toy in. It was a nice feeling but a bit odd. It is almost as thick as my husband’s penis but the bend is pronounced. About ¼ of the way down it bends at about a 40 degree angle. The feeling is definitely not natural and it took me a little while to get used to it. It wasn’t at all painful – it was very nice – just alien. I slowly slid it around, turning it, applying pressure here and there… exploring. The ladies were very involved in a 69 and I was enjoying some close-ups of very wet, wide open pussy shots imagining the scent, the warmth, and the flavors. And then I turned my little machine on. I’d never had a vibrating thing up inside myself before and it was a wonderful shock. It was as if all my life I’d had a sex organ that I only now discovered. There is just no comparison to anything I’d experienced before. I had it at slow speed but already I knew I had entered a new world. It was all the way in when I turned that magic knob – about 7 inches with the curve up – toward my head. And I slowly slid it out. On the way I could feel it getting close to that wonderful spot and when it hit I was in heaven. I forgot about the computer. I forgot about everything. My whole world, my whole existence was inside my cunt. I moved it around my g-spot and I altered the speeds. The faster speeds were nice but near the slow end seemed to be my frequency and it made my eyeballs roll back into my head. I held that thing in position for an eternity – maybe 2 minutes – and exploded like I’m sure no one has before. It felt like my whole being would flood out. It was several minutes before I was myself again and I slowly pulled it out. I looked at it as if looking at a magic wand. I was somewhat aware one of the ladies was seemingly enjoying a lovely rim job but barely registered it. I was so beautifully, wonderfully, magnificently drained. I had a cigarette and a drink and slowly returned to Earth. I was satisfied and still I was beginning to feel ready for more.

I had been at my computer for a little over an hour and a half (I am able to spend several hours occasionally) and the night was too young to go to sleep. As good as that orgasm had been and satisfying, I definitely was going to want more. But computer porn just didn’t seem to fit the bill now. I had a bath, dressed – not having any idea for what – and found that I had missed a call on my mobile.

“Hi, this is Annie. You know. From the sex shop. Just wondering if you’ve tried out your new toys. My number is….”

• I was horny as hell and had already had one off quite nicely.
• I was still a little drunk.
• I was hungry for that “woman’s touch”.
• She had as much offered when I was shopping for masturbation toys.
• She had called.
• I loved my husband and his hard dick.
• He was away.

I called.

She was to meet me at a pub near my flat. In the intervening hour I was to reconsider at least 20 times. I had dialed her number once and gave an excuse about clicking the wrong button. I was unbelievably excited. The thrill of forbidden fruit times 2. The knowledge that barring my saying something very stupid or a comet strike I would have my tongue in a pretty young girl’s ass very shortly. I was so wet I changes pants and changed again. I put on a skirt, then a shorter one and then back to the original. I was nervous as a schoolgirl.

I got to the pub ¼ hour early. I ordered a gin & tonic and smoked. When she walked in she literally took my breath away. She looked delicious – yes but I think it was primarily because I knew I was looking at my very soon to be sex partner. It was an odd feeling.

Now I will digress here for a moment – or take an aside – if you will. One of my readers left a comment telling me to “be comfortable with myself… to be who I am…” or something to that effect. I want to tell my dear and gentle readers that I don’t have a problem with the fact that I am attracted to women. Anyone who’s read my Beginnings section will know I have enjoyed looking at sexy girlie pictures for several years. And that I had a night with an angel around this past new years. I am not a lesbian – I have already mentioned my husband – but I suppose bi-sexual wouldn’t be that off. I can’t really imagine being romantically in love with a woman. And I love that feeling of not only being penetrated but that sense of urgency, of being taken, of that need I feel from him when he is giving me his best. I promise to let you know if I’m wrong – but I don’t think any woman with a dildo could give me that feeling – as much as she might be enjoying toying me she can’t feel my insides with plastic. No – my misgivings are to do with cheating on him and breaking taboo. I don’t yet know how I will deal with that. But now back to our story…

She had on a blouse that was open quite low and I could see she had no bra on. Her breasts bobbed almost hypnotically as she walked. And she had a kilt on that came to about mid-thigh. And she had on stockings the tops of which I could just make out. Her shoes were these little patent leather flats that looked like children’s tap shoes to me. I positively leered. I felt like a filthy old man and I loved it. When she got to my table we gave each other a kiss that wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow in church but the look that crossed between us for the ½ second before could have peeled the paint off the walls. She was as excited as me.

After she ordered I felt her foot touch my ankle under the table.

“So, have to taken your purchases out for a test drive yet?”

“One. The thick bent one.”

“And…?”

“You didn’t hear me? Feel that tremor?” I winked.

“And you just felt the need for a professional’s advice on how to put the rest to best use, is that it?”

She was coy, confident, and very much in her element. I, on the other hand, knew what I wanted – certainly – and I knew we were “On the same vibe”. But I felt my inexperience and I felt my age and I thought if anything, the situation should be reversed. I hesitated, stalled for time by sipping, finishing and then ordering another drink.

“So tell me your story.” She said after the obligatory uncomfortable silence.

“My story?”

“I’ll bet you don’t do this often.”

“‘Do this?’” OK – It was a dumb thing to say and I knew it as it slipped out but I was getting nervous. I was under the control of a girl several years younger whom I wanted badly. I was used to being the one in control of such situations. Men chased me and knowing that I had what they wanted – I could toy with them, make demands while withholding promises…

She looked around the pub. And then back at me. “Do you want me to say it here?” She asked.

“No. I suppose not.”

“Are you ashamed?”

“Not of what you think. But I’m married. I need this to stay private.”

“I noticed the ring at the shop. But, so tell me, what’s the draw? Just curiosity? Boredom? Hubby’s got a limp one?”

I explained my little history. And it made me feel like I’d regained some control over myself. Perhaps it was that I’d just needed to get it out.

“And you?” I asked.

She laughed, “You think I’m a dyke?

Well, to tell you the truth I’d fuck a dog if he turned me on. I love sex. I like shocking people. I love cumming. I love that most people are uptight about their own biggest desires. It’s funny.”

“Is that why you offered this afternoon?”

“Yup. I wanted to see your reaction. I watch my customers and I saw which vids you were checking out.”

“Are you surprised I took you up on it?”

“I am. You looked so nervous I thought you’d shriek and run away.” She laughed again.

“Oh go on. I was not.” I smiled and lightly kicked her under the table.

“Just like you were 15 minutes ago. I thought I was going to lose you there for a while.” She winked and grinned.

“You know,” I said and ran a bare foot up her thigh to the top of her stocking “I’m not nervous anymore. Why don’t we finish up and go? I have some things I’d like you to see.”

We set off in silence. I wished I could take her hand but this was my neighborhood. And so the walk felt a little awkward.

I mixed some drinks and turned on some music and we sat together on the sofa, smoking.

“So you like to play with yourself while looking at naked girls? What do you like to look at most?”

“Their round bottoms. Their arse-holes.”

She leaned in close to me and we kissed deeply, deliciously. She grabbed a handful of my breast and squeezed. Her tongue ran around my ear and said, “Just watch, then.”

She stood in front of me. Her smile was mischievous beyond words. Her gently swaying body even more enticing. The bob of her breasts beneath her blouse almost irresistibly magnetic. I relished the anticipation of watching her undulate and undress for me. I could barely breathe, I wanted to see her tits come out from beneath that top. She turned and let me see her swaying bottom. She crawled up onto a large chair beside me and bent down deeply – knees wide apart on the arms, head down in the seat, arching her back and allowing her skirt to ride up almost completely exposing her bum – dressed in small, simple cotton pants. She looked back at me – still smiling. I was mesmerized. I’d forgotten all about those breasts. All I could think about now was that bottom about a foot away from my face. I wanted to touch it but somehow felt it wasn’t yet allowed in this game. I tried to imagine what her scents would be like. What would she taste like… her pussy… her ass. She reached around and slowly pulled at the waistband, tugging it slowly down. She slid it down until that magic little hole was exposed…and then stopped. As if caught in some tractor beam my gaze was fixed on that little pink and brown anus swaying too and fro. She leaned, pushing it closer to my face and now I could smell her. It was wonderful. That smell of a lovely girls asshole. And now I was powerless to obey much of anything save my need to kiss her… there. I moved in and she back and my lips – at first dry and only lightly – touched the puckered wrinkles. God, how that first slight touch sent waves of ecstasy though me – and judging from her reaction, her as well. Her ass was spread wide open already but I grabbed her cheeks and pulled it open wider exposing the most sensitive skin inside. I stuck out my tongue and licked her very gently – just tickling her. She moaned slightly and pushed back against me. I slid my tongue in. To anyone unfamiliar with the taste of an ass it must sound horrible but it’s not. It’s lovely. And intoxicating. I got her bum all nice and wet and then drew back so I could slip my finger in. I love that sensation of putting just the tip in – just surround it with but not quite passing the sphincter. Very slowly working it back and forth. And withdrew to lick some more. She had her hand on her vagina now, under her pants. She was still fully dressed and I could still only see her ass but there was no sight nor sensation more utterly erotic at that moment. I licked her and she fingered herself for what seemed a very long time until she shuddered, I slipped my finger back in, and she came. And her anus contracted around my fingertip.

I could have continued, being happy to keep rimming her for days but she fell into the seat. After a moment she rose and offered me her moist hand which I licked clean, savoring that other womanly flavor. The she caressed my face, looking at me, smiling.

“That was absolutely lovely.” She finally said and kissed me deeply.

I looked at her long, enjoying the sight of her pants slipping down on their own. She stepped out of them and pulled me up so I stood opposite her. She turned me and caressed my breasts through my top. She undid my skirt and let it fall. She touched my mound from round back. I closed my eyes and let her do what she wanted with me. The sweetest surrender.

“Where are your toys?” she whispered.

I began moving toward my workroom but she stopped me. I just motioned toward the door with my head. She was back in a flash. Annie slipped off my pants and bent me over the back of the lounge. I felt vulnerable with my bum, naked and raised up to this virtual stranger, this woman. Vulnerable yes, and so sexy I thought I’d die. She began massaging my cheeks with her hands. She spread them, further exposing my ass. And then, not even having seen them, I felt her hard nipples rubbing across my bottom. One slid down my crack, lingering to tickle my asshole. I tried to imagine what they looked like; were her nipples puffy? Pink? More brownish? I could tell they weren’t huge but they did feel like little stones. And then bliss as she tongued mine. I pushed back and her tongue slid in. Deep. She must have had an amazing one – it felt like it was in several inches. She slipped it back out and in once again, only this time deeper. I couldn’t believe it and then… and then it began what felt like whipping, slowly, around in circles. It was when I noticed the buzzing sound that I realized she’d slid in the long, thin vibe. She turned the knob and my asshole was a little spot of bliss sending waved through my body. I could feel her tongue rimming me and all the wile she fucked me with that wand. I can’t begin to describe the sensations except to say that though it was rather thin it felt like it was stretching my ring wonderfully. I rode that wave of bliss for some time and then felt another shock. She’d got the mini-vibe going on my clitoris. I couldn’t hold on more than about ½ a min before I exploded. My whole body was wracked. Sweat sprang up on my forehead. I felt flushed all over. And still my ass clenched that rod.

After I could catch my breath I got up. I needed a cigarette badly and a fresh drink.

We stayed up most of the night playing. I may delve into deeper detail in another installment but for now I will say that we each enjoyed several more orgasms, we used all the toys, and all night we played with only each other’s asses. It wasn’t until morning when we nearly drowned each other in a 69 that we touched (except with the mini, of course ), or even got a good look at each other’s vaginas. A symphony of assholes. I never would have believed it could be true.

But this isn’t about her for now and so I’m not going to indulge in looking back.

As I mentioned in some previous post, this all began with an old boyfriend some years back. We’d look at some of his magazines or a porno vid and I would find myself appreciating the models or actresses more and more. We would just about always have amazing sex after. At first I thought (or rationalized) that it was because he was all the more turned on for being able to share his pornos with me – since that is so often something men keep secret from their lovers. But eventually I had to admit that I liked looking not only at naked women but at beautiful ones and ones in overtly sexual and/or revealing positions. I think I liked the sight of a woman spreading her vagina or bottom as much as he did. Anyway we didn’t last all that long and after we broke up I found myself looking at sites on my own.

I regard myself as fairly feminist. As I looked at pictures of women bending over to give me a rather proctological view or sat with their vaginas spread open enough for me to nearly make out the cervix I was at first disturbed by my own feelings. This is exactly the exploitation of my own gender that NOW and my parish fight against. I didn’t really think about it until I began indulging alone. With him it was still too new, too much a part of our foreplay, and just somehow too “out of my hands”, as it were, for much analysis. But when I looked for pictures on my own, and when I began looking for sites that featured woman in situations I particularly liked – well that was different. I should have been offended or incensed by the exploitation. But I wasn’t. I was turned on and I was masturbating!

I began noticing something. As I indulged, my specific desires shifted. At first it was the beautiful naked women but by now I wasn’t excited unless she showed me everything. I wanted her to spread and bend. And my taste in what kind of anus or vagina I liked got more and more specific. I like my vaginas with what I think of as little tongues poking out. I always fantasized about flicking them with my tongue. And I like my assholes with just a little ridge around the hole. Of course I enjoyed breasts, nipple, those amazing dimples above some women’s bottom cheeks, certain curves like between arm and armpit. But those all could qualify as “woman’s beauty” or “artistic” or some euphemistic twaddle. No – I was thinking more about an utter fascination and attraction to seeing their holes, close up and in detail. I’d once read some newspaper advice columnist advise her female reader that she should look at the porn her husband was interested in but not to be surprised that it was more gynecological than erotic. The columnist was wrong – it was erotic in part because it was gynecological.

Of course this made me more curious than I’d ever been about my own equipment, now that I had some “vocabulary” so to speak, about the variations of such things. Of course I’d looked at myself before but with nothing to compare it too it was in a more detached, simply curious way I suppose, though that isn’t quite right either. Now I knew that to my eye, at least, not all pussies and assholes were attractive. Some – even if their owner was stunning otherwise – were downright repulsive to me. Most were fine. Most were on the good side. But to me, that feminist, “female positive”, Vagina Monologues (yetch) line that “they are all beautiful” just isn’t true. And I was afraid I wouldn’t like mine. Anyway I pulled out my magnifying mirror and looked. I found that my ass is pretty close to what I liked, the ridge was just a bit closer to the outside than I preferred but otherwise it looked nice, clean (as in lines, not hygiene which I took for granted, thank you), the colors fading from pink/skin tone to darker browninsh/skin tone. Yes, yes. I know not everyone is that interested in the minutia of what my anus looks like but I was and it’s part of my story. And I discovered a small freckle off to one side which I’d never known was there. I felt that pride a girl feels when she feels pretty – and I had my secret beauty mark to boot. Yes – I feel a bit silly and I felt that way at the time – but my asshole made me feel pretty. But my vagina was a little disappointing. I don’t have those tongues I like. I did find my lips to be quite nice. Big by the standards of the pictures I’d seen but most of them had inner lips which didn’t peek out at all. Mine do and they are dark and wrinkly in a way that just looks nice to me. They are sensitive and so feel almost like a separate erogenous zone. When I spread myself open I was surprised at the deep color I saw. As they say – it’s all pink on the inside – buy I am a rather deep rose. And I have a wrinkly little pucker around the entrance to my vagina. And my vagina looked small – as I once saw described on a website – a One Finger Pussy. So no tongues but a cute donut instead. And my clitoris looked adorable to me. Not too long but fairly round so it held back the hood enough to be clearly seen and touched. So in general my porno bits please me. Not perfect but I was quite happy with what I found. Pornographic pictures had led me to this discovery. It wasn’t exploitive of my gender it was empowering. I enjoyed every time thereafter when a new lover got to discover my beauty mark for the first time. And knowing what he was seeing and that the sight pleased me, now as a knowledgeable consumer of porn, made me feel more confident.

I let my fingers roam, spreading myself open in various ways. Of course this felt lovely and it was interesting that my porno woman was me. I was watching myself masturbate and gazing into my own spread ass and puss. Though fun and I did make myself come – that was an interesting sight – it wasn’t like the looking at other women. My mirror wouldn’t replace my monitor.

This whole feminist thing is really a sort of aside. It wasn’t a huge chapter in my story but I though it a bit interesting. I’d be curious if other women have had similar experiences.

The major thing was still the whole lesbian thing. Am I gay? Bi-sexual? Are such definitions important or even meaningful? I don’t know now and certainly didn’t then. I wasn’t interested in sleeping with any women and I suppose I didn’t exactly chase men but I didn’t discourage them either. Before my husband I had 4 fairly serious relationships and another 4 more causal ones. But when available I dated a lot. I even had a couple, shall we say, weekend stands. But when I masturbated I liked more and more to think about or look at woman. I tried looking at men and on some gay porn sites I found men that would make me literally drool if I saw them in a pub but somehow in pictures they just weren’t that interesting. It was like judging a horse. I could appreciate the aesthetic qualities fully but just not feel that magic draw. Fairly soon I gave up and found that sites with woman alone or in pairs were what I liked best. Hmmm… And I liked watching one woman spread another and slowly and deeply lick her. With a flat tongue go all over. When the camera could get the angle right I liked it when one was on her back and the other between her legs but usually that blocked exactly that which I wanted to see. So usually I liked watching when the bottom in a 69 was working away at a nice, plump, juicy, bald or trimmed juicyfruit. From that angle I could see the tongue working its magic. But mostly I like pictures. There I can stare and imagine all I want and move on to the next.

Now I don’t want to give the impression that I became obsessed with female genitalia alone. No, I still appreciated all the beauty and magic that woman can have. This is about the feelings I discovered specifically about those naughty bits. I’ve never had an issue with appreciating the aesthetic beauty of a woman but it was non-specific and non-sexual. Until this epiphany I vaguely agreed with the NOW sort of line that nude art was ok and usually found in museums and expensive books. Pornography was exploitive and usually found in the dark. I hadn’t spent any serious time thinking about it but it did seem about right.

And so there I was – a straight, moderately feminist woman who liked to masturbate looking at pictures of naked woman.

What is it, that missing bit? I guess it’s spice. Before I thought that my fantasies were just that – a safe indulgence into the unknown, mysterious, wild side. Cheating on my husband. On my faith. On my upbringing. I delved into something naughty and it excited me. But it’s not a fantasy anymore – it’s a reality. I know what it’s like to swirl my tongue around another woman’s asshole. I have been intoxicated by her smell and by it compelled to shove my head between her thighs. And she has brought me to the most intense orgasms I have ever had. What’s missing is the element of added excitement the unknown brings but it hasn’t been replaced. I’ve thought about looking for someone to play with but I cannot get caught. She was safe because we were abroad and the chances were vanishing small. But I dream on.

My husband went to the pub with his mates on Friday. I went out with a couple girlfriends for drinks and then came home. I poured some gin and went to my workroom. I have my own office at home so I needn’t worry about my man catching me. We each respect the privacy of our individual spaces – besides, I know he has his solitary vices as well and that unless specifically invited to do otherwise, I ignore the fact.

Nicely tipsy, I lit a fire, turned on some music and went to my computer. I perused my favorite site for pictures of beautiful women. I hadn’t been there for some time – 2 weeks perhaps – and they post almost every day so I had quite a bit of catching up to do. There were a couple young women I kept returning too. One was a pretty young blond girl with amazing smallish yet beautifully round breasts. I kept going through her pictures and of course had to stop at the ones where she’s got her bum in the air. There is one where I could almost see her little ass hole. I imagined licking her anus. My tongue circling it and poking in. I wondered if she’d ever had a woman and what she would think about me and my thoughts. I cupped those lovely breasts and toyed her nipples. Soft, warm, hardening. For a good quarter hour I stared at her and got very horny.

Then I looked at this pretty dark haired one. OK – she has that definite look of a pro but the close-up of her spreading her vagina froze me in place for 2 minutes. It’s amazing. It’s fantastic. It looked wet, like she’d been playing with herself. I know she probably oiled herself up before the shoot but fantasy is fantasy. I was rubbing by own through my pants. I’d hiked up my skirt and was gently rubbing up and down. It was now time to take them off. I put my feet up onto my desk, spread them comfortable wide and began.

I like to rub myself with all my fingers first. Sort of kneading my mons but gently. I poured more gin and in a state of near hypnosis I rubbed and stared. I don’t even think I had any specific images going through my mind. That fantastically gaping pussy had me enraptured. And I loved the sight of the ridge of her asshole. I wish I could find a nice, clear ass-on shot of it. I want to see the colors and contours of her anus. But those of her pussy had me – the pinks and the almost heaviness of her innermost lips. I wanted to suck on just that bit.

My own bum was getting numb from the slanted position I was in and I had to shift a bit. I noticed how moist my hand had gotten and I smelled it. I like my own scent. And then I tasted it. I sucked my own juice from my fingers. It was nice, very nice. And it was time to up the level of stimulation. I surfed to a site I like with lots of vid clips of women masturbating and lesbian scenes. Unfortunately they don’t keep an archive so I can’t link to the clips I watched.

There was one of a fantastic blond girl of about 18 years. She played with herself with her fingers. The close-ups were amazing. She has those little “tongues” peeking out and I had think about sucking each one. And then she did that magic thing. She sucked her finger and got it very wet. She bent over and spread her bum. With her wet finger she circled it. Again she wet it and again she circled. And then she slipped it in. She frigged herself a little while and again she sucked her finger. This went on for a good 5 minutes or more. I slid down into my seat and spread my own bottom. For some reason I felt a little nervous but I tickled my own ass hole with a wet finger. I too wet it several time, each time tasting my own ass. I restarted the vid at that bit. I matched her movements. And when her finger slipped in and widened her sphincter I too slipped mine into my own bottom. Despite the awkward position I got it in past my second knuckle and loved it. I slid it back out and back in. I loved the part when my ring popped open to accept the finger. I loved the feel of the muscle gripping it. And I loved the smell and the taste when I remoistened it. I watched that segment 4 or 5 times frigging my anus and only then began using my other hand on my clit and sinking my finger in there too. I could feel my fingers separated by the thin membrane. And I thought I’d pinch my finger clear off, in my rectum when I came. It was a wonderfully soul wrenching orgasm that lasted quite a while. The contractions in my ass were such that it seemed it was sucking on my finger. An odd but wonderful sensation. I wished my finger was a penis so I could enjoy that sucking sensation to the fullest.

I calmed down. Poured more gin and laid down near the fire. The warmth filled me and calmed me. But I still had that sensation in my bum – a little like I need to go to the loo but not really. Much more pleasant. After a bit I went and drew a bath. With a finger slippery from bath oil I played a bit again. I slipped in 2 fingers and was surprised the stretch didn’t hurt. It was a pressure but a nice one. Now I was in a mood for experimenting. Though obviously sexual and sexy it was more curiosity now. I wanted to know if I could take something larger – like my husband’s penis. It felt foolish but I found my experimental object. I oiled up my bottom, bent over the tub, and slid the handle of my hairbrush into my ass. I suppose it was relaxed from the evening’s fun but I was surprised at how easily it went it. It felt a little painful but good. I worked it pretty hard and it was fine. I finished bathing and wore a grin the entire time. My husband was in for something new. I dressed in some sexy night things and waited.

Ok I know I’m supposed to be confessing my fantasies about women and all that but, his hard cock in my ass felt wonderful that night.