My Perfect Day

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It started like any other Monday; I woke up too late, rushed through my morning ablution routine, kissed my wife and daughter goodbye and drove to work. It all changed when I got in. There was a new receptionist on the front desk, and her smile alone was enough to cause a stirring in my pants.

Of course, the low cut top inviting a look at a cleavage to die for and a mini skirt showing off legs that should come with a health warning helped, but the smile alone was enough for now.

“Hi, I’m Bill,” I said, trying not to let her see me looking down her top.

“Hi Bill,” she replied, still smiling. “Who have you come to see?”

“Nobody, I work here, I’m just introducing myself.” I replied, trying not to stammer and sound like a complete idiot. As I said this, I realised I had been standing ogling with my mouth wide open. She must have known I was staring, yet still she smiled. This was interesting!

“Oh, right, in that case John wants to see you; I’m Marion by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you, Marion, fancy a welcome to the office drink after work?” I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth, but before I had a chance to retract them she had replied “Sure, that would be fun.”

My meeting with John was interminable as we went through the same old crap he wanted to talk about every Monday morning — time keeping, dress code, the importance of being clean-shaven, the amount of paperwork lying around on my desk, and I gave him the same old lines about trying harder. Fortunately, I am very good at my job and we both knew that nothing would change, as I didn’t have to and he couldn’t afford to sack me.

The rest of the day I went through the motions, finding any excuse I could to get down to reception and talk to the delectable Marion.

Finally, five o’clock arrived and, having told my wife I would be entertaining clients until late, I went downstairs to meet Marion.

“Where do you fancy going?” I asked her, as she pulled on her jacket, causing her breasts to strain at her top even more.

“Let’s go back to mine,” she replied, “There’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”

My heart leapt to my throat when she suggested going to hers and sank to my feet when she said she wanted me to meet someone, I assumed it was her boyfriend.

“OK.” I said, trying to hide my disappointment, as she led the way out of the building.

Walking behind that swaying, bewitching ass, my spirits lifted, and a line from the movie Some Like it Hot — Like jello on springs — went through my mind and caused me to smile, just as Marion was looking over her shoulder.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked. “Looking like the cat that got the cream.”

“Just thinking about Marilyn Monroe,” I replied, “The way you walk reminded me of a film she was in.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied, giggling.

“I certainly hope so.” I muttered under ulus escort my breath.

“Where do you live?” I asked out loud.

“Just round the corner, five minute walk,” she replied.

“Let’s get the drinks here, then.” I suggested, pointing at an off licence.

“OK, but I must warn you, I only drink Champagne and not the cheap stuff either.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a classy girl like you,” I said, giving her my most winning smile as I entered the shop.

I bought two bottles of Champagne and one bottle of single malt whisky, if I was going to be sat with Marion and a boyfriend; I wanted to make sure I had something decent to drink.

We got to Marion’s house five minutes later, and as she closed the door she called out “Hello, anybody home?”

When no reply came she turned to me and said, “Looks like she’s not home yet, go in through there and take a seat, I’ll be down in two minutes.” With that she ran up the stairs.

I walked into the front room and sat down on the sofa, now completely confused. Who the hell is she? Obviously not a boyfriend. Girlfriend, then? Was I barking up the wrong tree? Marion would make one hell of a lesbian, the stirrings started again.

“Jenny should be home soon,” Marion said, shaking me from my reverie.

I jumped and looked up — she had changed into something a lot less comfortable and a lot more revealing. Standing with her hands behind her back, she was wearing a black choker with studs around her neck; a leather bustier that was probably half a size too small; black lace briefs; stockings and suspenders and a pair of black patent leather knee-high boots with six inch stiletto heels. I wasn’t going to be standing up anytime soon.

“Who’s Jenny?” I asked, trying not to croak, my mouth feeling drier than the Sahara Desert.

“My housemate,” she replied, “We have been texting each other about what we’re going to do to you all day, and it looks like I’ve got the first crack of the whip.”

With that she brought her hands around from behind her back to reveal a riding crop in her right hand and a pair of handcuffs in her left.

“The safe word is ‘pink banana’ — are you up for this?” she said, looking straight at my crotch. “I guess that’s a yes,” she simpered, leaning forward and handcuffing me to the radiator behind me, and then stroking my hard-on through my trousers.

“Yes,” I managed, trying to get some moisture back into my mouth to enable me to speak.

“Good,” Marion replied, “Jenny can join us when she gets here. Sounds like you need a drink, whisky or Champagne?”

“Whisky, please.” I squeaked, “No mixer, no ice, just straight”.

“Good call,” she smiled coyly, “I have plans for the Champagne, and I’m sure you’ll like them”.

She opened the whisky, filled a glass I hadn’t spotted on the coffee table next to the sofa yenimahalle escort and handed it to me. I took it gratefully with my free hand and drank deeply of the scotch.

As I was drinking, Marion bent down and started to unbutton my shirt, her bustier barely containing her more than ample bosom. I put the glass back on the coffee table and reached out with my free had to massage her wonderful tits, but she snapped the riding crop down on my hand. “You may only look for now,” she said, “You can touch when I tell you.”

“OK.” I replied, “You’re the boss — for now.”

She pulled the shirt panels back and started to nibble on my nipples, causing me to take sharp intakes of breath. Meanwhile, she was undoing my belt, while running the riding crop up and down my torso and lightly lashing me.

Having got the belt open, she put the crop down, just out of my reach I noticed, and undid the buttons and zip on my trousers, pulling them and my underpants down in one swift movement.

“Nice,” she purred, looking at my throbbing cock standing proud, “More than a mouthful is always a challenge.”

She then reached down for one of the bottles of Champagne and started to remove the cork.

“Shouldn’t that be chilled?” I asked, intrigued, and more than a little disappointed at her timing for taking a drink.

“Not for what I have planned it shouldn’t, wouldn’t want to lose any girth now, would we?” she said as the cork went flying with a loud pop and warm Champagne spilt onto the carpet. Marion then dropped to her knees, took a mouthful of Champagne from the bottle and, with the liquid still in her mouth took my throbbing member between her lips. The feel of those tiny bubbles bursting across the head of my penis was a close as I have ever been to heaven. Marion then cupped my balls in her hand and slowly moved her head back and forth across my shaft, her teeth lightly scrapping the skin and her tongue expertly licking the head.

I reached out to guide Marion’s head further forward, wanting to feel my cock hit the back of her throat before I exploded into her mouth, only to feel another hand already there. Shocked, I opened my eyes for the first time since Marion’s lips encased my cock, I saw a stark naked woman, presumably Jenny, masturbating with one hand and guiding Marion’s head back and forth by the hair with the other. This was too much to take, and, just as Jenny pushed Marion’s head as far forward as it would go, I came like a steam train, emptying the contents of my balls deep into Marion’s throat. Marion was gagging wildly and trying to pull back, but Jenny just kept pushing her forward. I guess Marion was not the boss anymore.

Finally spent, I slumped back onto the sofa and looked up at Jenny. “Jenny, I presume?” I said, “Pleased to meet you.”

She took my free hand and shook it, “The pleasure will be all mine.” She replied, smiling wickedly and finally allowing Marion to come up for air.

Marion looked up at Jenny from her prone position on the floor and grinned. “You want a taste?” She asked, standing up and kissing Jenny full on the mouth, my jism being shared between them.

“Hmm, sweet,” said Jenny, “Now he has to please you.”

“Yes please,” I said, watching Marion’s heaving tits almost breaking free of her restrictive clothing.

“Talk when you are spoken to,” said Jenny, “Or you shall be punished.”

“Yes, mistress,” I replied, deciding that discretion was probably the better part of valour. I’d also taken a shine to Jenny’s neatly trimmed pussy. I obviously wasn’t going to get anywhere near that unless I played along.

Jenny removed Marion’s bustier, finally releasing those sweet breasts. They were firmer than I had imagined. Tits that big normally sag a bit, but these were perfect; standing up enough to look good, but not so much as to look fake. I had no idea whether or not she’d had work done, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

I stood up as best I could and moved towards Marion, but Jenny pushed me back onto the sofa, being off-balance anyhow, I didn’t take much pushing.

Obviously my participation was not required at present, so I just sat back and enjoyed the show.

Jenny knelt down in front of Marion, and removed her briefs. Jenny’s ass was directly in front of me, firm and toned and just begging to be slapped. As she leant forward and started to lick Marion’s pussy, Jenny’s own moist, neatly trimmed bush was just wiggling in front of me. Tentatively, I reached forward and slipped my middle finger between the lips and immediately found her swollen clitoris, the sharp intake of breath indicated my attentions were welcome.

Very slowly at first I stroked Jenny’s clitoris, her ass slowly moving back and forth in time with my manipulation. As I upped the pace, the pace of her swaying increased and the rate of her licking of Marion’s clitoris also went up. Realising I was dictating the pace with two of the hottest women I had ever seen naked soon had my cock standing to attention again.

“Ooh look, he’s ready for more!” said Marion, as Jenny’s body went rigid and she let out a strangled cry, gushing pussy juice across my hand.

“You’d best jump on then,” said Jenny, “and we’ll finish you both off.”

Marion slowly eased herself down onto my throbbing member as I roughly massaged those glorious tits. They certainly felt real to me, and as Jenny slowly raised and lowered herself on my cock, Marion reached between her legs and massaged her clitoris.

Marion’s movements became swifter and more urgent, and I could feel the muscles in her pussy tightening around my cock, causing me to erupt like Mount Vesuvius inside her.

All three of us collapsed on the sofa in a tangle of heaving, sweaty bodies and exhausted limbs.

After finishing what was left of my glass of whisky, Marion released me from my handcuffs and I got dressed ready to leave.

“Do you want to take the bottle with you?” Jenny asked.

“Nah, that’s ok,” I replied, “I can have some more next time.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32