Caroline Returns
My thoughts were mixed while waiting for Caroline to turn up on the Sunday. Mixed in the sense I couldn’t make up my mind whether my upper…
My thoughts were mixed while waiting for Caroline to turn up on the Sunday. Mixed in the sense I couldn’t make up my mind whether my upper emotion was lust for her body or intrigue as to what her questions were going to be.
Oh, that’s rubbish. Who am I trying to kid? Of course the overwhelming desire was lust. She wasn’t glamorous in the film star sense, actually quite ‘mumsy’ in a lot of ways, but her personality shone bright and her sexuality was certainly strong up close and personal. Does that come through in her photo? No doubt you’ll tell me.
She arrived looking much smarter than the previous evening, having come from the christening and also clearly having consumed a glass or two. Evidently, she had a cab bring her as I saw it driving away, and until I asked I hadn’t realised, she didn’t drive.
I invited her in and we kissed each other’s cheeks, although she held me while we did so. I intended to stay quite reserved (for me) and let her take matters where she was comfortable. She’d come a lot further on her first experience than I’d thought likely, and I wanted to give her space in case she was having second thoughts.
We sat in the lounge and I gave her a glass of wine and asked how the christening had been.
“Deadly dull Sweety, My only connection to the family is through the baby's grandmother who I used to work with. They weren’t really my types at all. Too straight-laced! And after our shenanigans last night, I wasn’t in the mood.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, but still perhaps I can make amends.”
“I hope so, Sweety. I know I need something.”
“You said last night you had questions. Did you want to ask them now or have some fun first?” See? I said I’d be reserved.
“Let me ask the questions. Might have a bearing on what we do.”
That intrigued me. “Okay, fire away.”
“Right. Here goes. I think I might have asked this last night but things are a bit hazy. Do you use toys on each other much? I’m thinking particularly of a strap-on dildo type thing. I’ve seen one or two videos of women using them and wondered who got what out of it.”
“Most of my encounters don’t involve toys, but yes, I have had experience with a strap-on. If it’s being used on me, it’s fun. They can feel quite lifelike. I’m not sure that I get a lot out of using one on someone else, although I think I’d quite like to try it on a man.”
“Do you think people know? I mean know you prefer women to men or play around same sex?”
“I doubt it. I’m not gay, at least I don’t regard myself as such, and I don’t think I dress or act any differently since I started having fun with women. Why do you ask?”
“No idea, really. Just wondering I suppose if I’m going to grow a sign out of my head saying ‘I fancy women’.”
“Do you think you do?”
“Fancy women? No. I think what I fancy is being turned on as much as you turned me on last night. The fact you were a woman was immaterial. If I could buy a robot that did that I’d be as happy. Oh god! Sorry, that sounds terrible, likening you to a robot. I can’t believe they’d be able to make one that responsive, anyway. Oh, shit digging myself deeper, aren’t I?”
She was, and I laughed. It was an interesting comment though, and one that had crossed my mind occasionally. In the early days, I’d thought like Caroline. Now the subtle differences between my lovers convinced me I did fancy women, not just the sex.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes, these men you show your photos to. How do you know it turns them on?”
“They tell me and show me.”
“Show you? What their erections?” She sounded scandalised but there was a look in her eye, manic almost. Helped by her alcohol consumption, I was sure. I thought I should twist the scandal handle further.
“And their erections.”
“Saints alive. My life has been too sheltered. Where do I sign up for this fun?”
“Start yourself a Twitter account. I’ll take some photos for you, you post them and away you go.”
“No no. Far too complicated, I had enough trouble getting myself on Facebook. But it would be fun to hear or, even better, see a few reactions.”
“Could be fun. Want to try now?”
“What? Photos?”
“Yes. You could flash your delectable boobs or show me your hairy pussy.”
“Ah, can’t do the latter.”
“Why not? Don’t be shy.”
“It’s not shyness. I, er, I shaved before I came. Didn’t think you’d want to go deep in the jungle and end up with a mouthful of hair again!”
“Better and better, you can give them a clear view of your pussy.” I could see in her eyes that she was tempted.
“Oh, go on then. Why not? Sounds a hoot. Quick, before I change my mind!”
So we did some photos. She was being fuelled by the wine, but she threw herself into it. Sitting behind the camera, snapping away as she got more and more daring, turned me on as much as her. I wondered how proper photographers doing porn shoots managed to keep professional. Perhaps they didn’t.
I wondered how far she’d go. It was one thing stripping in front of me, another, knowing loads of men would be ogling her, but it spurred her on as it does me.
We started with her showing a bit of underwear, although given the top she was wearing, I suspected a load of guys at the christening would have already sussed out the view of her bra. She was shy of me peering up her skirt at close range at first, but as you’ll see from the photos, she overcame that! Taking photos that close of her delicious cunt had me leaking and I couldn’t resist touching her. That brought an abrupt end to the photos. We got sidetracked!
She was standing, legs apart, holding her lips wide. My head was near her knees. What would you have done? Kept taking pictures or sink your head between her thighs? Sniff in the smell of sex? Lick out the taste of sex? Listen to the noise of sex from her light moans?
Mm. Me too!
We soon found ourselves enacting a repeat of the previous night. She, virtually naked, me fully clothed, but this time I didn’t need to encourage her to strip me. I stood up and with urgency, she removed my clothes. She has the largest tits of all my girlfriends and once my top and bra were off, our four orbs were mashed together while we kissed. A delicious feeling.
Our hands fingering each other. Outbidding each other to create the largest pool on my carpet. We’d soon collapsed on the sofa and now it was her turn to suck me. No hesitation. No need for my legs to imprison her. I swivelled round. Sixty-nine style. Her head welded between my legs. Mine between hers. Her lips welded to my lips. Mine to hers. Her taking my leaking moisture willingly, greedily. Swallowing every drop of nectar. Me attempting the same. She was winning the waterfall contest. Litres it seemed. Matched by her increasing moans or groans or sighs. Call them what you will. Sounds of the release of sexual energy. No need to wonder if I’d orgasm. No need to wonder if she would. They came. Soon and heavy. Mine first. Triggering hers. Bliss. Heaven.
She needed to move from Winchester to somewhere closer!
If you want to catch up on my adventures to date, you’ll find the list of all 128 blogs here: https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble
