Eye Phone

She loved the fullness in her mouth, the

flex of live flesh under her tongue, the

flavour of the seepage, the

weight of his balls in one hand as the other

coaxed from them the cum she wanted, the

reason for her kneeling there naked

before him, eyes closed, brow

furrowed in concentration.

“Baby?” was said so sweetly, so tautly, that it

made her open her eyes and look into the

bare black back of his iPhone with its

little eye that went click just as

her mouth filled and her

heart sank and her

pussy wept at the thought of

all those people online

loving that shot.

Waitrose

It was at the deli counter, when the

thickset guy with the ugly tattoo

asked “Anything else, madam?”, that she wanted to

shout “Yes, I’m a

married housewife with two

beautiful girls who will need

picking up from school soon, which will

entail standing amidst

picky parents with this bloody

penis-shaped bit of

plastic in my previously

untouched arse, sent to me by a

man I’ve never met in preparation for his

visitation to our little town next week when I am to

meet him at an hotel where he will—

sorry if this shocks you—

fuck all my holes and send me home with his

sperm on my pretty face—his words

not mine (I think I’m

rather plain)—and do you know

what is really shocking? Eh? Yes

I’m going but no that’s

not it—I’m about to have a

bloody great orgasm right here, right

now and I’m sorry if you have to

call for a clean-up but I hope you

understand and ...oh

fuck.......”

Instead, she got a grip on her

shame, her embarrassment, the rather

full feeling in her bowels, the

drip of her pussy and her

incipient orgasm and like a

good English housewife ordered a

half-pound of Cheshire cheese.

The Talk

She felt obliged to tell her daughter all the

usual guff about

love and respect and

sexual health when

what she wanted to say was

fuck like a rabbit,

never say no to a threesome,

explore anal and have a DP at least
once in your life, learn to

enjoy the taste and texture of sperm,  wonder
what a woman might taste like and

act on it or risk

being like her

wishing she’d done more.

The Road into the Woods

It was all so familiar and

so unreal: there was the

childrens’ school, dark and

quiet; the cafe where she

met her friends; the little

lingerie shop whose wares she was

wearing; the enormous Tesco, still

thrumming despite the hour—all so

odd and ordinary, then

the road climbing out of town into the

woods where her children loved to

scamper, where she had played

silly games with her friends, first

held a boy’s hand, first

kissed—in the car-park of which

she was about to suck

strangers’ cocks, encouraged by the

man driving the car who

wasn’t her husband.

The town looked so small and

cosy from up here: she hoped the

children wouldn’t wake and

disturb her husband; that he wouldn’t

start smoking again; that he’d

still love her when she returned

changed and dirtied from her

adventure.

The car turned and her town was gone: it was

just her and him in that

headlit tunnel through the trees,

with those men and her

frightened excitement at one end and

at the other

everything else.

'O' Face

He’d seen that ‘O’ face so many times, the

startled rictus, the

spastic scrabbling of her fingers, that

desperate curling of her toes, the

stifled swearwords, sweat,

snatched breaths, the sudden

rigidity, hips upturned, as

sperm splashed onto cervix, but it

wasn’t his sperm nor his

body within the cradle of her thighs and he

could only watch with

wonder.

Moment of Truth

Her friends had talked about it--
some loved it and some
swore they'd
never do it again, or
not that far anyway, so she was
scared and excited and
startlingly turned on as she
felt him stiffen and
spasm and
understood with
sudden clarity that
on her knees she faced an
eternal dilemma.

Fever

She complained of a fever

knowing he would insist on

taking her temperature

rectally with the special

outsized thermometer he had

just for such an eventuality.

He would find, after a

thorough examination, that she

had no fever and would

need to be punished for lying, the

prospect of which made her

feverish.