Laura – Falling Angel Pt. 03
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Laura was face down on Cherie’s tattoo couch. She wore a tiny thong and she couldn’t get her legs any further apart. Cherie breathed in her ear; Laura could smell her delicious berry vape, but her words were even more delicious.
“You’re disgusting. Fantasising about your friend’s teenage daughter, fingering yourself off over her. You should be ashamed of yourself. Shame on you.” She felt the head of the dildo against her anus; felt herself dilate as Cherie applied pressure.
Laura loved to fantasise like this on a lazy weekend morning. She’d never really thought about girl sex before visiting Cherie for her thigh tattoos, but now as she stroked the raised patterns, with the redness now almost completely gone, she knew they would always remind her of the striking and confident alt-chick who branded her, and as she penetrated herself with the toy which was very much a part of reality, she knew that her future would definitely feature sex with other women. “Shame,” she said aloud, imagining the tattoo artist touching her the way she was touching herself, and sucking hard on her nipples.
She recalled how she had been face down on the couch; Cherie had taken out an e-cigarette from a tiny canvas rucksack, sucked briefly and exhaled a slow, luxurious cloud of the sweet smelling vape. Laura had purred that it was such a pretty scent, and Cherie had kneeled next to her, offering the device to her lips. It was such an intimate moment; Laura took the deepest of drags, and the two women enjoyed extended eye contact as she slowly let the fruity vapour escape from her lungs. It had been the last session, and Laura had a sudden thought. “Are you going to sign your work?” A huge grin had split Cherie’s face and Laura knew she understood that she wanted to be branded, owned.
The artist had put her hand between Laura’s upper thighs, higher than she had til that point, and gently applied pressure, Laura spreading her knees in response. “I think I’ll sign here,” she said, indicating a part of her upper left thigh.
The work being complete, Laura had paid what she owed and they smiled and hugged, acknowledging the chemistry between them. It had remained professional but she knew that the little heart motif bearing Cherie’s signature would remind her that they had unfinished business. She hoped when they did eventually play, Cherie would share her enthusiasm for some bitchy talk about little Millie, and provide her with the shame and degradation she craved.
She got up and made a coffee, taking it out to the garden to check her phone and enjoy an unhurried cigarette. Smoking had become a part of the natural rhythms of her day, and she would smoke at certain times through the day although she didn’t consider it an addiction. It was becoming clear to her, however, that she did have an addiction to pornography and fantasising, and she felt the familiar tingle as she viewed the private gloryhole message group, taking a drag on her Silk Cut as she opened the first video clip of the day. She loved amateur clips, shaky footage filmed on smartphones by husbands barely able to breathe with the excitement of witnessing their wives enraptured as they slutted themselves. Her garden was overlooked but she was naked under her robe, and touched herself casually as she browsed. The sound of a lawnmower broke her reverie; she had been feeling like a respectable woman enjoying a spring morning in her garden but she chuckled as she realised that actually, as was the norm these days, she was smoking, fingering herself and looking at porn.
She thought it might be nice to go on a date. She didn’t feel any pressure to act on her fantasies just yet; she wanted to continue to anticipate and dream, and the intense pleasure she enjoyed when she masturbated was an end in itself, but a bit of fun and romance with an actual human would make a nice change. She resolved to send a flirty text to the boy Dan – she knew he was 15 years younger, but Taksim travesti reflected that was quite kinky, too, and could lend an extra dimension to any sexual situation they might share.
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A whole series of flirty texts followed, resulting in Dan picking her up in his Audi that evening, and taking her for pizza. She wore a silk scarf and a low cut top and as they ordered he told her how hot she looked in her reading glasses. She giggled and replied that she’d spent ages doing her smoky eye makeup. She noticed him eyeing her cleavage several times and she liked it. at a bathroom visit she pulled down her top just slightly to expose the lace of her black bra; she wanted to wind him up til his balls ached, although she had already decided she wasn’t going to let him fuck her that night.
He drove her home and she invited him in; he couldn’t keep his hands off her and she encouraged him. He kissed her neck from behind, cupping her boobs under the tight top as she pressed her bum against his erection. She took off her scarf, and taking his hand, led him upstairs. In the bedroom they kissed some more; she’d had wine but was feeling confident and in control, and when he put his hand up her skirt she waggled her finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah!”
He looked instantly hurt, and she giggled, sitting in her armchair. She smiled serenely. “Take off your clothes.” He removed his shirt but then hesitated; she told him to keep going. “I want you completely naked.” As he unbuckled and dropped his pants, she reached into her bag, took out her cigarettes and lit one. He stood before her naked, his cock fully erect despite his slightly nervous expression, which seemed to ask why she would be smoking if they were about to have sex. She felt bitchy and powerful and in control; she smiled at his discomfort, but also in appreciation of his fit young body.
He grinned and folded his arms. “I don’t seem to know what to do with my hands!”
She took a drag and slowly let the smoke roll from her lips, unsmiling now. “Oh, but I think you do, Dan. Remember what I said to you before I went, that night we met?”
“I’m not sure…”
“I want to watch you wank yourself off.”
He blushed. “But, I thought…”
“Don’t be shy! You’ve masturbated thinking about my boobs already, haven’t you? Well, now they’re right here in front of you.” She sat on the edge of the chair and put her shoulders back, emphasising her impressive bust. “Does this help?”
He sat on the bed and tentatively gripped his cock. “God, you’re so hot, Laura.”
Cigarette hanging from her lips, she reached into her bag again, this time putting on her reading glasses. “How about now?”
“Oh fuck…” He was openly wanking himself now, all reserve gone.
“That’s it,” she grinned, exhaling smoke towards him. “Show auntie Laura how you like to spunk all over yourself thinking about her big titties…”
He lost control rapidly; his back arched and his whole body spasmed as a thick, white bolt of cum streamed from his cock, followed by three or four additional surges, soaking his belly and chest, streaming down his shaft onto his balls.
Laura beamed with delight, her eyes wide with pretend shock. “All for me? Naughty Dan, wanking himself off in front of a respectable lady…” She had a sudden thought: “Here, let me help…” She reached up her skirt and pulled down her lace fringed, satin french knickers, and turning them inside out she gently mopped up the cum from his belly and balls. There was no apparent hint of his erection easing. Once he was clean, and the knickers completely soaked, she rolled them into a ball and deposited them in the laundry basket.
He dressed, sheepishly, a little embarrassed and disappointed despite an obviously satisfying orgasm. She grinned at him. “Aww… if you’re good, next time Taksim travesti I might show you my boobs. Did I tell you I have pierced nipples?”
She kissed him as he left, and he said sulkily “What makes you think there’ll be a next time?”
She laughed, and smacked his buttock resoundingly. “Don’t be silly! Now you know where I am, I’ll tell you when I want you back.”
Back in the bedroom she undressed, and retrieving the soaked knickers from the laundry basket she held them to her face. The strong smell of spunk made her heart race and her breathing speed up. She found the wettest patch, licking it hungrily; the taste was definitely not unpleasant. She pulled them on and climbed into bed, spending a torrid hour fingering herself through them, smearing the cum on her nipples, licking her fingers, the wetness of the spunk – fresh, potent spunk – against her vulva and anus initiating the creamiest, most protracted of orgasms that just had to be followed by the most indulgent and luxurious of cigarettes.
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“Who’d have thought it,” she mumbled to herself, as she walked down a road in the ex-industrial part of the city, and past the 2nd hand bookshop mentioned in the GHSecrets message board. Who’d have thought there’d be an establishment like this within half a mile of her office building, with an adult section accessible through a curtain. Who’d have thought there’d be rumours of a toilet in the adult section, with a functioning gloryhole? And who’d have thought a couple of minutes later, as she walked back from viewing the exterior of the bookshop, smoking in sunglasses like a spy on a secret mission, she’d have bumped into Mary from Church, who had been to a textile mill to buy fabric for curtains? They’d had a brief chat during which Mary kept glancing at Laura’s cigarette. Clearly it was a shock to her that any of the ladies from the church fundraising group would smoke. Laura wore a short black leather jacket and her hair was up in a messy bun, exposing her now multiple ear piercings which were complimented by a silver ring through one nostril. She told Mary she’d been just too busy to come to church but would try make time on Sunday.
Mary eyed Laura’s piercings and smiled. “Reminds me of Millie’s… She’s just back from Cambridge for the summer.” She rolled her eyes. “She’ll probably be in that club again, tonight…”
Finally able to resume her walk and enjoy the deferred drag she’d been looking forward to, she mulled over her new intelligence. This had clearly been a fruitful lunch hour! Pagans, the alternative club almost certainly alluded to by Mary, was also a regular bolthole of the captivating tattoo artist Cherie. She wondered how quickly she could get her knickers off when she got home that evening, or even if she could wait that long, as the bare bones of a delicious fantasy started to assemble in her head. She also mused that more information on the book shop was surely forthcoming.
She’d been for drinks after work and It was on the bus home that the information appeared in the invite-only message group. A new member had joined and she was able to confirm the existence of said convenience and its additional facility. She’d also offered to message Laura directly. “Fuck,” she said quietly to herself. She texted ‘Katesux’ directly and received a message before she got home.
‘Hi babe yes its good.go there regularly’
She asked when was the best time and was told it only opened during the day. She’d heard of similar venues in London, though, where ‘special events’ could be arranged with the management by particularly attractive or well-known girls, to open late at night for a single girl and invited men. ’20 or thirty men, wouldnt that be fucking HOT!!’
Kate told her that she should go during the day, there’d be men looking at the dirty mags. She had to ask to use the ‘girl’s room’ ; this signified, apparently, Travesti taksim that she intended to suck. She would be pointed in the direction of the left hand of two unisex cubicles. She added incidentally that a guy asking for the ‘boy’s room’ would also be directed to the left cubicle, whereas a request for ‘men’s room’ would refer to the right. Couples visited too, always the left cubicle. If they asked for the girl’s room the guy was going to watch his wife or girlfriend sucking cock, but frequently a wife would ask for the boy’s room, to experience the delights of her husband sucking off a tool and swallowing cum. Laura asked if she thought it would be OK for her to smoke; Kate replied ‘god yes I always smoke while Im waiting for something to appear exciting!!’
Laura hoped this might be the beginnings of a friendship. She told Kate it would be lovely for them to meet for a coffee.
Back home, relaxing on the sofa in a satin camisole with a glass of wine she slowly leafed through her favourite magazine. She enjoyed the photosets of all the girls but knew it was just preamble to titillate her for the pictures of ‘Millie’ in the middle of the book. It was while she viewed these sensational pictures and explored her rapidly engorging vulva that her phone pinged. It was Kate again. ‘want to see a clip of me and hubby?’
Kate was a heavy set woman in her 40s, she noted, with short curly blonde hair, and wearing a leopard print vest top and no bra; hubby was black, to Laura’s surprise, and well endowed with huge, heavy balls. They’d positioned the camera/phone close to Kate’s face and she appeared to be kneeling. The backdrop was a partially open venetian blind – cars and occasionally pedestrians passed by outside. She expertly worked him with her mouth for two minutes, his dark cock glistening with her saliva as she deepthroated its entire length, and glanced at the camera, smiling, from time to time. Eventually he was heard to say something quietly; she looked up at him and disengaged her mouth, his hand appeared and he adjusted his stance slightly, slowly stroking himself off onto her face and boobs as she looked up at him. The clip ended with her giggling and blowing a kiss at the camera. Laura messaged back saying it was beautiful; Kate replied ‘thanks. Im such a fucking slag xxx’
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They had met for coffee a few weeks after that evening; they sat and smoked together at a café in the shopping area of the city, and Laura said how it was nice to share a secret. “I’ve never done it, Kate. I’ve never even sucked a cock…” she paused and lowered her voice as the waitress passed, “…but I’m fucking obsessed!” Kate had giggled and suggested she come back to hers and suck off her husband right now. She had the confident attitude of a nurse and the strong local accent Laura has expected from her looks after seeing the video clip.
“Mmm… Oh god, I’m so tempted… I want to enjoy the obsession as long as possible, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last before I have to do it…”
“Well, the offer’s there, babe…” Kate took out another cigarette and lit up. She frowned and pouted as the smoke streamed from her mouth. “He’s got a lovely big cock…”
She offered the lighter to Laura who already had a second cigarette between her lips, tingling with the guilty pleasure of desiring another so soon after the first. Kate quipped that she’d never met a woman who liked gloryholes who didn’t smoke.
Laura felt she could talk frankly with Kate. “He has a beautiful cock, Kate… I love that clip. Do you send it to many people?”
“Oh yeah,” she replied, proudly.
“I mean, do you… like being seen? I noticed your blinds weren’t quite closed… That’s really hot.”
She laughed. “I told you I’m a fucking slag. I love being watched.”
Laura processed the conversation as she walked back to work. She wanted to be a fucking slag too, but as a manager she knew she had to be discreet. She lit another cigarette, saying quietly “I smoke Silk Cut. And I’m a fucking slag.” It sounded fantastic in her mouth, with her reserved and cultured voice, and she felt a flush of vaginal fluid soak her knickers.
To be continued…
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