I had just finished shaving. It had been a week since I had last done it, and my pussy was beginning to get a light fuzz of blonde hair on it. I liked to keep myself bald- both for sensation and because my boyfriend loved it. I was naked, having come from the shower, and was rubbing baby oil into my mound and running the razor over myself one last time, to make sure I was as smooth as possible. I placed a finger on my clit and closed my eyes. That was when I heard it- scrabbling. And voices. I opened my eyes, and realised that the sound was coming from outside the window. I sat up and peered outside. I couldn't see anything. It must just be the neighbours.

The evening had been planned for quite a while. The restaurant gets booked weeks in advance and I didn’t want to take any chances as it was Sue’s birthday.

An invite from old university friend Judy to spend the weekend in the Cotswolds, play catch up, reminisce and be mates again was turning into a monumental disaster. From picking me up from the London train, I knew immediately that I’d completely fucked up my weekend – and probably hers too.

What the Master wanted was me… This was clear before the games began. He had his room and I had mine. We worked hard. We worked in his room – ‘the working room’ – and after 7 straight hours, I declared that we should call a break before dinner.

The trouble was that our dialogue was so intense, almost as strong as my desire for possessing him, that after 7 hours of straight work I also wanted to be in hot, scented water, that I invited him to continue the discussion whilst I immersed myself in the self same hot, scented water.

I stripped, he watched, continued talking as if I were fully dressed, and I lowered my voluptuous body into the scented water.

Jane and I have known each other for a long time. We went to the same high school as well as the local university. We were both in the high school band and yearbook committees. We have both drifted into the local art scene with various side jobs to keep us living.

She walked into the hotel lobby shaking the rain from her umbrella. It hadn’t stopped raining all day. Moisture drenched the air with a close humidity that made her thin cotton t-shirt cling uncomfortably. She checked in at reception and gratefully took the room cardkey with thoughts of a refreshing shower at the forefront of her mind. As she walked towards the lift her mobile beeped with a new text message. Dipping into her handbag she pulled out the ‘phone and read
“Black spiky heels, seamed stockings as instructed.”

Have you ever been kissed? I mean really kissed? Treated as though you're a delicious dessert to be savoured. Lips hovering over your throat; hot breath making all your hairs stand on end with the anticipation of being touched. Then finally the fleeting touch of soft skin against yours, a tongue tasting you, and then it's gone again. Only to reappear lower down... hands caressing your back, softly, but surely. Those hands know where they want to go, but for now they decently remain on your back, shoulders, in your hair, tugging it so your throat is exposed. Teeth graze your skin. You feel as though you're sinking into an abyss. If you were standing, your knees would buckle.

I immediately found myself thrusting the crop into his hands upon receiving the gift and got onto all fours in front of him. I was wearing my best french knickers and he just slipped them down to my knees without a second thought. He made me deliciously pink and hoarse in the throat and I could feel the pain upon my ride onto the tube. Luckily I was wearing my gypsy skirt and could feel the breeze. I had to bring coffee to obnoxious celebrities while my arse cheeks throbbed. It was blissful.

It had been a long, frustrating day, and the presence in the meeting of the attractive sales executive hadn’t helped her with the sexual frustration she had building up. She’d worked some of the tension out in the gym, and had spent a long time in the shower, trying to wash away the rest, but another long bath and a session with the vibrator beckoned, as she shivered in the cold wind and rounded the corner towards her front door.

The guys had arrived to do my garden – they must have been sent by the landscaping company. I saw 5 of them get out of the truck and go around the back. It was a hot day and they were all bare chested. One of two had tattoos on their arms …mmmm. There were a couple of really good looking young guys – I had beautifully etched muscles in his arms and chest and some low slung jeans which allowed me to glimpse the lines of the V which led down to his crotch. They didn’t know I was watching them – probably assumed I was out.

This episode actually happened. It’s something that brings me out in goose bumps when I think about it, and I fantasise about it quite often. It concerns me and my boyfriend (whom I shall call Mr X), and at the time, we were ‘on a break’. Every bloke I met during that period made me realise just what I was missing - no one was as cool or made me laugh like Mr X did. The one night stand I had wasn’t a patch on Mr X and instead of making my ego soar, that bloke succeeded in making me feel like an oversexed whore. Mr X and I had started talking and seen each other a few times, which had ended up with us all over each other.

After a bit of sightseeing and driving up and down many mountains we decided to stop the car and go for a walk.

Maybe it was the heat or maybe even the thrill of doing it outside in a remote place, but me and my boyfriend at the time thought it would be a great idea to move off the beaten track and make love on the side of a mountain.

I paced up and down waiting for him to arrive. It has been months since I last saw him and the last time we had spoken I had really annoyed him and he told me he wouldn’t see me any more.

It is just an ordinary street with rows of identical houses punctuated with the occasional alley or driveway. I first noticed that the house across the alley was vacant again as I arrived home one afternoon some months back. A 'To Let' sign had been put up earlier in the day.

I'd joined a gym to get trim for the summer, I wasn't overweight, but I wanted to shed a couple of pounds and get myself sexy again for the summer. If I'd known what was going to happen, I'd have joined months before...

I wash my body under the warm water, gently massaging the shower gel into my stomach and breasts and nipples, raising my face to the shower head and enjoying the feeling of the water washing me clean. I'm preparing my body for you, shaving my pussy and washing between my legs where I know your cock will be in an hour.

We stood still for a moment, drinking in the silence, and then I suggested that we watch the sunset from the top of the dune. Scrabbling up the slope we took two steps forward and one back in the loose, dry sand, and when we reached the crest I flattened out a small area for us to sit down on. As I casually put my arm round Estelle's shoulders she moved in to sit close up to me and hooked her own arm over my thigh, both of us pretending we weren't fully aware of her elbow, resting right up between my legs.

I stood dressed in my heavily boned and tightly laced vintage corset, very sheer seamed stockings and perched on my five-inch stiletto heeled shoes. I looked down at him kneeling at my feet. He was naked with his arse resting on his calves, his knees wide apart and his hands resting palms up on his thighs, the submission position. His head was lowered and he was looking at my gorgeous feet as he remained perfectly still except for the bobbing up and down of his erect and leaking cock.

I’m lying on my back in bed, naked under the duvet. The lights are on low and the room is warm and cosy. I’m running my hands over my body, imagining it’s you, over my thighs and up towards my breasts. At first I gently squeeze my nipples as I cup my breasts, then I pinch harder, the way you do, until I have to bite my lip to stop myself crying out. I slide my right hand back down my body, over my thin strip of pubic hair and between my thighs. My left hand is still on my left breast. My fingers brush lightly over my clit, the middle one sliding easily between my lips. I’m wet already. I move my hand back up and rub my wet finger over my clit, pushing harder as I move it in a little circle, over and around.

I met Jack online about two years ago. He basically was on the Admin Team at a forum that I freelanced for. We had talked a lot and a few times he had personal chats on Messenger, sent a few photos and so on. But he got so intimate, that I pulled the plug and we became friends. But something kept making me come back to the flirting antic.