A Night in London

By Bossmepls.

The train ride from Gatwick’s airport to the center of London had taken longer than expected, and from the station, they hailed a cab to the hotel in Kensington. Though calling it, a hotel was perhaps a bit much. The Russel’s Arms Inn was essentially a large townhouse like the many others on the same street. A red brick facade with white stone corners marking the borders between it and the neighbors it shared walls with. The glass front door with the hotel logo and name engraved had an elegant minimalist fashion. While the building looked old-fashioned, the interior was modern, a white slick counter was placed on what was once the house’s atrium, and some generic black and white photos of London’s prominent landmarks adorned the walls and a quiet plant in the corner.

As the couple entered the main room, they carried their luggage in two separate, small-wheeled suitcases, one pink and one grey. A few seconds to take in the somewhat harmless and generic atmosphere before they spot the young girl working behind the reception desk.

The receptionist had delicate, sweet features, wavy copper-colored hair, and a line of barely noticeable freckles beneath her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. She looked in her late twenties and perhaps a bit bored as she browsed her phone without guests. But as the new arrivals cross the door threshold, they can see her emerald green eyes light up with a welcoming smile and straightening her back to assume a proper professional posture. This only made her look even more attractive in her well-tailored black suit that was part of her uniform for the small hotel.

“Welcome to Russel’s Arms Inn. How can I help?” With a perky attitude, she says she was legitimately happy to do her job. A rare sight in modern times, but always a welcome one.

“Hey there.” Paul steps forward towards the counter, his wife sticking just a step behind him. “We are the Williams. We have a reservation here; let me just.” He takes a moment to fumble with the folded paper on the back pocket of his pants to produce the printed page with the information on the bookings. But the girl is already typing on the reception’s computer as soon as he mentions their surname. The reservations popped in immediately, and she looked at the screen, slightly puzzled for a second.

“Hm. Just to make sure there wasn’t any kind of mistake. We have a second room, a single one, booked under your name for Saturday, along with the double room.”

“Oh, yes. There’s no mistake.” Paul says with a faint blush rising to his cheeks, but he doesn’t hesitate much before saying, “We have an old friend coming to meet us in London this Saturday.”

“Oh, that’s grand.” The redhead offers a smile. “I’ll put their name on the booking for the single’s room, in that case. What’s your friend’s name?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Paul speaks again, with a very slight pause before he continues, “He will be staying in the double room with my wife. You can put me in the other room. Put the double room under Sarah Williams’ name.”

“Oh.” The girl says at the explanation, an eyebrow raised as she stares at the computer screen and then looks up to the couple. A couple of seconds before she realizes what was happening, or at least formulates a plausible theory. “Oh!” She repeats now with more emphasis and a more dragging expression of surprise. “I see. Of course, Mr. Williams.”

The girl’s rosy pale complexion gains a red tint, and despite her very professional posture so far, she can’t help but smirk knowingly and shoot a glance over Paul’s shoulder towards Sarah. She finishes adjusting the reservations with fast typing fingers before producing the key card for the double room, tidily wrapped in a paper envelope marked by the hotel’s logo and room number.

“Here you go, Mr. Williams, Mrs. Williams.” She slides it across the counter. “Do you need any help with your luggage?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sarah says, gently pushing the handle of her pink-wheeled suitcase to Paul’s hand, wordlessly implying he’d carry it for her upstairs. She collects the card key and gestures towards the staircase behind the reception desk.

“In that case, welcome to the Russel’s Arms Inn. Enjoy your stay.” The girl says towards them, and then, in another breach of her more professional posture, she shares another complicit glance towards Sarah and adds a bit off-script: “And have fun.”

The Williams had spent a lovely couple of days in London, visiting the main attractions, finding some well-reviewed places to have dinner, and enjoying what the city offered. All the while, Sarah made sure to keep checking her Tinder profile and making conversation with the most likable suitors for her Saturday night date. The options had already been narrowed down to three. She made a point of commenting how hot they looked in the pictures without minding to be too quiet, even in public, while showing Paul her phone with photos of the tall, young, and very fit men she had been talking to on the app, after being matched with them.

When Saturday rolled around, she had picked John. He was tall, undeniably handsome with a well-trimmed beard, short hair, and a physique you can only get by spending many hours a week at the gym. His profile was filled with pictures in sleeveless shirts, workout outfits, and speedos at the beach, leaving very little imagination. Perhaps the ultimate tiebreaker had been one picture in particular, where he appeared in a tight red speedo, and the outline of his cock could be seen against the tight fabric. She had used her fingers to enhance the picture, almost shoving her phone in Paul’s face while the whole screen was taken by the red, minimalist bathing suit that bulged even at the visibly flaccid state of what lay underneath.

“Wow. Now that’s a real cock.” She commented playfully, “Not like yours. It would probably disappear in a speedo, wouldn’t it, love?”

Paul visibly flushed, especially as she had chosen to say those words just as the waitress had come to their table to ask if they needed anything. The attractive brunette was in clear earshot for the entire exchange while Paul meekly nodded in agreement. They were finishing their seafood lunch and getting ready to go clothes shopping for Sarah’s big date, and by the time the meal was ready. The same brunette had come to bring the check and collect the card for payment. Sarah playfully touched her arm to call her attention and bring the same picture up again on her phone.

“Sorry to bother you. Joan.” She says, reading the girl’s name tag. “But what do you think of this guy? He’s hot, isn’t he?” The wife asked while Paul was busy producing his credit card to pay for their meal.

“Oh. Uh. Yes, Ma’am. Very attractive.” The girl commented, slightly unsure about the situation. Still, as Sarah continued to smile and Paul offered no sign of offense at the situation, besides blushing and meekly staring at his feet, the waitress added. “He has some of those sexy hip dimples too.”

“Oh, yes. He does, though I’m much more interested in what they are pointing at.” Sarah responds, and they both share a mischievous giggle before the girl turns to Paul to collect his card and inform him she’d be back with it and the receipt soon.

They took a cab to a high-end department store from the restaurant as Sarah wanted to make sure she looked lovely for her date with John. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was after yet, but she knew she wanted a dress that was sexier and perhaps a bit sluttier than most of the things she owned. Something that showcased what she was working with.

Their first stop was a designer clothes store on the first floor. As they walked past the racks of pants and blouses, one of the shop’s employees, a petite blonde with sweet blue eyes, approached them following the usual script for establishment.

“Hello there. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Oh, hello!” Sarah greeted the girl enthusiastically. “Yes, in fact, we are. I’m going on a date tonight. And I want something sexy to wear, you know? I don’t own a lot of clothes like that, but I want to make tonight ‘special.’”

The blonde smiled. “Of course, I can help with that.” She says, noticing the wedding rings on both their fingers and speaking now more towards Paul. “Date night, hm? That sounds fun, keeping things fresh between the two of you.” She says as she begins walking and makes a gesture to be followed to the dress section of the store.

“Actually,” Paul begins to talk, following behind the girl, but Sarah has stepped ahead, walking side by side with her now, and interrupts him.

“Oh, no, the date’s not with my husband. I’m meeting a guy for drinks later tonight.” She clarifies, letting her excitement for the idea and the upcoming night show in a very transparent fashion. And it was a bit contagious. If initially, the blonde seemed unsure of what to say about that, Sarah’s smile encouraged her to keep smiling as they arrived at the dress section.

“Oh, I see. In that case, you said a sexy dress. Our new collection has a lot of form-fitting dresses that are quite charming.” The shop worker moved a few dresses on the rack aside to show a black tube top style dress and another one, vivid red with thin shoulder straps and deep cleavage.

Sarah ran her fingers through their fabric, feeling the texture and pulling them off the hanger to alternate holding them in front of her body. “What do you think, Paul? Which one would make John more eager to tear it off me?” She inquires, openly and loud enough for the assistant to blush as she was in earshot.

“T-they are both good.” Paul tried with a coyness rising at the intimate moment planned being so broadly advertised to a stranger.

Sarah turns towards the girl, at her husband’s coyness, and makes the same display alternating between them. “What do you think? Which one should I wear for my hot date?”

“Why don’t you try both and see which one you like more?” The shop assistant proposes, and Sarah nods with an excited chuckle.

“I might just do that. Thank you!” she says, moving towards the fitting room in the back of the store, carrying both dresses folded over her arm.

The blonde goes along with them, and soon they are discussing Sarah’s plans and what’s the best place for drinks near their hotel in Kensington. Sarah’s voice was coming from behind the fitting room’s curtains and perhaps carrying through the corridor of the back area of the shop while her husband sat on one of the waiting stools, with little to do but wait for her. The assistant stands on the other side of the curtains, sometimes going into the store to come back with new clothes for Sarah to try. At the same time, they discuss what would be more arousing to wear on a date, how a short dress would encourage John to touch her legs or how she could get a more loose cleavage to lean on the table towards him when she wanted to get his attention. Paul felt his cock harden and his cheeks burn as he could do nothing but listen to their exchange and wonder who else was hearing it all.

The visit to the first store sets the trend for the rest of their shopping trip, with Sarah making a point of gushing visibly about her date with the shopkeepers and bragging about how tall and handsome this John guy she was going to meet seemed to be, never failing to introduce Paul as her husband as they shop for a pair of heels, a sexy set of underwear, lipstick, and makeup. Paul is charged with carrying all the bags containing his wife’s purchases as they finally set down to grab a bite to eat at the food court. After a whole afternoon shopping, the break was very welcome.

“So, I got some nice dresses, makeup, some beautiful heels. I think I’m all set!” Sarah chimes as she sits down in one of the food court booths. “What do you think, honey?”

Paul is unsure. The morning had been a thrilling roller-coaster of emotions. Humiliating for sure to see his wife so excited about her date and eagerly sharing it with everyone else. But the thought of what was about to happen was undeniably arousing, especially when he considered the man she had chosen, how much more handsome and tall he was. He takes a sip of his drink as a flush rises to his cheeks again, revisiting the moment in his imagination.

“I think you should get some stockings. Some nice roll-up ones.” He finally adds. This earns him a smirk from his wife across from him.

“Oh, is that so? Aren’t those a bit tacky?”

“Oh, definitively not. And I don’t know a man who wouldn’t want to slide their hands up your lovely legs to remove them.”

“Stockings, hm?” The wife stops to ponder for a moment. “You think John will like it?” She asks, slowly reaching under the table to press her foot against the crotch of Paul’s pants, finding him stiff and sensitive, and the mere press causes him to shudder.

“I. I am sure he will. Especially with your b-body.” Paul stutters slightly at the caressing foot playing between his legs in such a public space. His small cock was barely enough to bulge against his trousers, but his wife pressed against the fabric to find him.

“I suppose that would be nice, yes. Will you help me find some nice ones?” She inquires, increasing the pressure against his dick with her toe. “Help me find something nice and expensive for John to pull off me?”

The last set of words, combined with the caressing foot, caused Paul to shudder and his cock to twitch against her. Sarah must have felt it as well as she pulled back her foot to leave him hard and to ache under the table while he nodded in agreement. “Of course, dear.”

A couple more stores visited after their break, where Paul helped Sarah pick a set of dark roll-up stockings with a broad, laced welt and some lovely perfume, adding the finishing touches to the night’s get-up, and they finally headed back to their hotel room. There were still a handful of hours before she had to meet John for drinks and likely more, so Sarah decided to take a long bath by herself, with a few candles and scented water, to soften her skin and help her relax. After soaking in the tub, she called Paul into the washroom after a long moment. Sarah had a towel rolled around herself and another around her head, with most of her gorgeous legs on display as she sat on the bathtub edge.

“Hey dear, can you give me a hand?” She held a small pink razor and signaled for him to kneel on the towel laid on the floor in front of her.

He walked to the designated spot, went down to a knee as she rested her hot foot against his chest, handed him the razor, and took a few pumps out of the shaving cream foam to rub her leg, delightfully slow. He watched her hands smear the creamy white foam across her pale skin, and then he noticed her legs parting slightly, giving him a glimpse of her sex beneath the towel. He could almost smell her lovely feminine scent over the freshly bathed skin that smelled soapy and sweet.

“No peeking.” She chides playfully, index moving side to side in a denial gesture before pointing to her legs, pulling the towel across her thigh to display more of it to the blade. “That’s not for you. Yet.” She reminds him with a taunting chuckle.

Paul takes the razor to her skin. Barely any visible hair there, but still, he lets the blade glide over the foam-covered skin and cut the hairs, leaving a smooth trail of flesh behind it. A hand gently held underneath her thigh for stability as the foot rested on his chest, and he repeated the gesture repeatedly. Methodically slow, almost worshipping motions to glide over each inch of her leg before getting a wet towel to remove the small leftovers’ hairs and foam. He ends with a kiss on her toes as she raises her foot from her husband’s chest to replace it with the other one and once more begins the slow process of having her leg shaved by the very devout Mr. Williams.

Once her left leg was about as done as the first, Sarah rose from the bathtub’s edge to let the towel wrapped around her curvy body fall and pool at her feet and Paul’s knees. She leans, gentle hands brushing around his ears as she speaks.

“There you go. Now you can look.” Her voice sounds smooth and sweet as he raises his eyes to find her pussy at eye level with him, mere inches away from his face. The hand on the side of his head shifts to tug firmly at his hair, not letting him come any closer, and she shakes her head. “Only look. As you shave it for John.” She taunts with just a tinge of cruelty in her taunt.

Again she raises her leg to this time rest the back of her knee against Paul’s shoulder, as his hands reach between her thighs to press the inside of her legs with his thumb and pull, stretching taut the skin around her sex for the razor to cut the patch of dark blonde hair framing it. His motions were now even more careful and deliberate than before, not just being careful not to nick her skin in such a sensitive area but also wanting to prolong the time spent around his wife’s delicate-looking pink pussy before her date had time to stretch and ruin it. Taking a mental image of her folds as they shift with her movements and his hand. Her hand is never fully relenting from the grasp of his hair, keeping him in a short leash around her cunt even as Paul gives her the finishing touches, leaving her smooth and hairless and finally using a soft, damp cloth to clean it. “Done.” He announces

“Good job, sweetie.” She coos lovingly. “But we are not done yet. Those lovely roll-up stockings were your idea, were they not?”


“So it’s only fair that you get to be the first to see me in them.” Sarah decides, moving to the bathroom counter where she had laid the black laced underwear she had picked and the box of the stockings that matched them almost perfectly despite not being a part of the same set. Gently sitting upon the closed toilet seat, she stretches her leg far and tosses him the box, with a gesture of her head to encourage him to help her don the stockings.

He slides the sheer dark fabric over the toes of her left foot, and as she wiggles them, he unrolls the stockings down the plant of her foot and her ankle. A gentle caress across the back of her leg and her calf, carefully unfolding every inch and trying to maintain a constant motion until his hands end at the middle of her thigh, running his fingers in a circle across the welt to ensure none of it was folded into itself, observing as her flesh showed just a hint of giving where the stockings ended, the delightful curve of rosy skin under black lace, leading to her now shaved, smooth, pristine pink sex. His wandering eyes steal another glimpse before Sarah curls her leg back and stretches the next to finish the long, elaborate ritual of getting her ready. Another devout, loving moment shared to rolling the stocking over her right leg.

Then Sarah chuckled and said, “I can take it from here now. I’ll see you later tonight, sweetie.”

And with those words, she stands to contemplate herself in the entire body mirror behind the washroom door. Holding her supple breasts that almost perfectly filled her hands and posing for a few moments, only then noticed Paul had not yet stood from where he had been kneeling. She bends to kiss his forehead and gently beckons him up.

“Time to go, darling.”

She encourages him to leave as he stands up, and she grasps the pair of panties waiting in the sink. He never got to see her wearing them, for as soon as Paul crossed the threshold of the bathroom door, she closed it behind him, leaving her husband to wait for her to finish dressing up and putting on her makeup, sitting on the edge of the double bed. Room service had already been there and tidied the room and bed, making it seem almost as if it was ready for new guests, which it would receive, in a way, very briefly. Paul removes all his belongings from sight, placing them in his small briefcase while his wife finishes dolling up.

When Sarah emerges from the washroom, he feels his heart skip a beat. The red dress with a deep cleavage fit her body perfectly and drew her curves, drawing eyes to the inward curve of her sides before her hips and the deep cut V between her breasts. She had put on a discreet necklace to adorn the exposed skin of her collar and matching earrings. Wine red lipstick and high heels match the dress’ color. Her legs were clad in the dark sheer stockings, the shadow of the welt almost visible through the hem of the dress. She strutted over the heels to give a little twirl and display her look with a gentle patting of a hand on her hair near her shoulder.

“What do you think?”

“You look extremely hot.” Paul assesses and gets another kiss on his head as a reward.

“Good. Now let’s go to the reception to get your keys, yes?” She proposes, holding his hand and giving a soft squeeze of encouragement as they get up together to head down.

Luckily, the same girl who first registered them tended the reception that evening. Her eyes scan the couple for a moment as they come in, and she immediately smiles. The freckled cheeks once more gained a soft blush.

“Look at you, Mrs. Williams. You look gorgeous.” She compliments.

“Thank you, that’s lovely of you,” Sarah replies before placing a hand on the small of Paul’s back to encourage him to step forth.

“Yes, good evening.” He says. “I’m here to collect the key for the single room, please.”

“Oh, yes, of course, sir. Paul Williams, right?” The girl says, quickly typing on the front desk computer. It’s a matter of seconds before she has his name on the screen and produces the small card key for the second room. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you.” He collects the card, tucking it in his pocket as he turns towards his wife. Sarah was checking her phone. It was almost time for her evening outing. She ought to be leaving shortly.

“I’ll send some extra towels and robes to your room for your friend, Mrs. Williams.” The receptionist says. “Anything else you two will need this evening?” There’s undoubtedly amused mischief in her tone as she speaks.

“I can’t think of anything. You’ve been really helpful, thank you.” Sarah leans to get a peek at the girl’s name tag. “Rebecca.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

“Oh, please, call me Sarah.”

“Of course. My pleasure then, Sarah.” And with a pause, Rebecca adds shortly. “Have a fun evening!”

“Oh, I intend to!” Paul hears his wife say before she walks towards the hotel door, her phone buzzing to announce the car from an app was waiting in the front. She stops at the door to wave a goodbye towards Paul and Rebecca before heading into the cool London evening and towards her date.

John could not believe his luck as he felt the girl’s hand running across his chest in the backseat of the car. The woman he was matched with on Tinder was what he’d call a ‘hottie.’ She was a few years older than him, but not by much. But she had the curves to go with her petite frame, and the outfit she wore to their date made him want to tear it off her the moment she walked into the pub. Seeing her come in, he was grateful that the pictures on the app had not misled him.

She was even more attractive in person, with her bright blue eyes and gorgeous, long blonde hair. And all that packed in a shamelessly sexy red dress with a generous cleavage. On top of that, as they did small talk and made each other laugh with funny stories over a couple of cocktails, she had not shied away from leaning over the table and offered him many chances to peek down her dress.

If things seemed to be going well when the evening started, they only seemed to improve towards the later night hours. Legs playing with his under the table, playful, sensual comments and innuendos were tossed into the conversation, and she was undoubtedly down-to-fuck. At some point, they shifted from sitting face to face at the table to side by side, and she was more than welcome to let his hands explore her thighs even in that public venue, leaning in to sniff at his neck and giving little nibbles to the bottom of his ear. By the time she suggested they had hailed a cab and headed to her hotel room, John had been hard as a rock for the best part of the last hour.

The ride back had passed in a blur, making out as the city passed by them, and the driver seemed happy to ignore his passengers. They pressed their mouths together, tasting each other as their tongues whirled, wrestling in a chaotic dance that slowly became more harmonious. John can’t say he saw much as they dashed by the reception. However, he could swear the cute redhead receptionist had winked at him in those brief seconds before he was whisked upstairs, and the woman in the red dress, who had introduced herself as Jill in the app, unlocked the door with her card slowly waltzed inside.

He flattened his clothes before crossing the threshold. A simple button-up white shirt and dark jeans are well-tailored to display his broad and toned physique. After all, John knew how much time he spent at the gym, and he made sure his best clothes always showcased the fruits of that labor. But he doesn’t have much time to re-adjust his clothes before Jill loops a finger through the empty belt loop of his trousers and pulls him inside the room, closing the door behind her. He was much taller and heavier than her at his six feet two inches height, but he still allowed the gorgeous, petite blonde to pull him wherever she wanted.

“Cozy room, you g—” he begins the small talk but is interrupted by her hand grasping the volume on his pants and stroking his cock, feeling the outlines of the manhood through the fabric of the pants and the loose black silk shorts underneath.

She gasps as she grabs his shaft and slides her hand down his thighs, following the veiny, throbbing presence of his thick, virile cock.

“No small talk.” She speaks. “Just fuck me.”

“Well. Alright then, Jill, you’re the boss.

Maybe it resulted from being teased throughout the night, but those words sparked arousal inside John like he hadn’t felt in years. One moment Jill is pressing against him, grinding her body against his and feeling his hard pulsing cock. The next, he grabs her by the arms, lifting her with ease and pressing her against the wall. With a single hand under her round, large ass, he can keep her suspended, and his free hand runs over her thigh to find the edge of her stockings and beyond, to the laced, very wet, and damp front part of her panties.

He kisses her deeply and then shifts to a simple lick of her neck and a growl against her ear before a firm yank of his hand snaps the sidebands of her panties, and he drops the wet rags that remained of her underwear to the floor.

She can smell his sweat, the strong manly musk that even the expensive aftershave he had on couldn’t disguise. She can feel his muscled chest through the shirt pressing against her breasts as his long thick fingers begin stroking around and then pumping inside her cunt. The wet noises are rising from it, competing with her deep and loud moans, not minding to be quiet even though her husband was likely still awake in the room just behind the wall against which she was being fingered.

John’s tongue danced across her neck and collar, and his strong arms held her weight entirely, so all she could do was wrap her legs tightly around his waist and her arms around his neck as his fingers thrust inside of her and his palm rubbed against her clit. He knew what he was doing, probably not new to the hookup game, as, in a matter of moments, her legs are shaking, quivering, and her hips buckle, her back arching, and she feels a strong climax break across her body like a warm wave crashing against her insides.

John pulls his fingers from the woman’s sex to shove the two digits into her mouth, making her taste her arousal, the taste of herself and her pleasure, before he lifts her fully and carries her to drop her on the bed and finally begin undoing his pants as he stands beside it. But Jill seems too eager to finally see the cock she had dreamed about the whole day and so far simply felt through his pants. She shuffles to her knees on the mattress to wait for John to turn around and give her the first good look at his immense manhood.

John’s cock rises from his crotch but is so big and thick that it struggles to lift its weight when fully erect, hanging more at a straight angle with a slight curve downwards than fully hard and upward. She had expected him to have a thick, seven inches long cock based on the picture of the beach. But it seemed John was both a shower and a grower.

She could not confirm it without a ruler. Still, by her best estimate, he couldn’t be any shorter than eight inches, and even in proportion to his immense length, his cock seemed fat, swollen towards the middle more than the tip and base, with three well-pronounced veins along with its dark-skinned color. And the smell, thick, musky, almost bestial. Her eyes roll in her head, and she feels a bit of drool building inside her mouth at the scent exhaling from him. Below that behemoth was a pair of balls that perhaps would be more at home on a large draught horse than a man. She feels one of them alone could quickly fill her hand, and they hang heavy and low.

She tries to give John a blowjob, and it’s a worthy effort as he stands towering above her, and she kneels in the bed. But his cock was just too big to fit properly in her mouth, too thick, and she hadn’t had much experience with anything bigger than her husband’s tiny prick in a while. So she spends long minutes licking and tasting the sweat across John’s cock and balls more than properly sucking him off.

When she finally gives up, the large man climbs onto the bed, fully undressed now, and grabs her by the hips to wordlessly guide her to turn, shoving her head down into the pillow and guiding her to keep her hips up, letting her dress slide down her sides and expose her large round ass and eager, properly shaved cunt to him, like a female presenting to her alpha in the wild.

John grinds the shaft of his fat member through the cleave of her ass, letting his pre-cum drip across her back and run down along her spine. Sarah feels her body heating up. The anticipation of having the behemoth inside of her caused her to feel wetter and more aroused than she ever had memory, and each second spent grinding against her only made her want it more. The emptiness of her sex was now almost aching in wanting to be filled. The near-stranger finally halts, and his hand reaches for a condom in his discarded pants’ pocket to wrap it around his massive shaft and smack its mass against her buttocks.

He guides himself in, finding it frustrating at first how tight she was. Almost like a virgin as Paul’s girth, that she was used to, was like nothing to a man as large as John. But the larger man wasn’t the most patient, and neither was the woman beneath him, begging him to spear inside her so she could feel his balls slapping against her clit as he hilted himself into her. While he admires her spirit, he has trouble getting more than the fat head of his cock inside her folds and slowly works it back and forth, slow pumps to ease himself in. Feeling her sex stretching to accommodate him, the folds of her cunt swelling as his cock enters deeper.

They fucked for hours. Slow at first, out of need more than care or want to be gentle. But then hard and fast. Harder than her husband had ever fucked her. First taken from behind and let John work on stretching her more. But even though she had come from that alone, he had not. Then it was Sarah’s, or ‘Jill’s’ turn to be on top, struggling to ride John’s massive cock until he grabbed her hips, holding her high in place and thrusting ferociously upwards. Which made her come again and again.

Her body visibly shook when she had her third consecutive orgasm that night. The feeling of John inside her was unlike anything she had ever experienced, in how fulfilling it was to be stuffed to her limit and fucked by a strong stallion like the man she had found on Tinder. Sarah’s mind rushed through her previous sex encounters, feeling more fulfilled now than before. Never had she felt so filled and utterly desired.

Nothing she ever did before could compare to being fucked by a virile red-blood man with a huge cock. Finally, he took her from behind once more. Then both lying on their sides, their bodies covered in sweat and red from the effort as he lifted one of her legs and thrust inside while biting the side of her neck and her shoulder.

John had displayed great control over his ejaculation, able to last how long he wanted by pacing himself, regardless of how tight Sarah must’ve felt around his dick after only being fucked by Paul’s pitifully tiny member. When it was finally time for him to come, John pulled from inside her, manhandling Sarah a little to lay her on her back over the bed and removing the rubber on his large manhood.

He brought his hand down onto his member, only needing a handful of fast stroking motions to bring himself to finish. A deep grunt of pleasure dragged from his lips as his back arched and a thick rope of seed splattered over Sarah’s stomach, followed by two smaller ones with a little less volume and pressure but still, each of them at least twice as much as Paul could ever hope to produce.

Thick white semen dripped and ran down across her lower stomach, almost reaching the bottom of her breasts as John tossed himself on his back beside her on the bed, discarding the used condom on the floor.

Paul got the message on his phone as he watched an old rerun of a reality show on one of those odd programs in the small dark hours of the night. He left his single room to go through the short corridor and open the door into the shared bedroom where his wife had just been fucked senseless. The smell of sex is overwhelming, drenched into the carpet, sheets, and walls, thick as a fog in the air as a very sweaty and still a bit limp Sarah lays on her back on the bed.

Her pussy was gaping slightly, and thick white seed pooled over her stomach and smeared across her chest and beside her on the bed. Three discarded but empty condoms were spread on the floor near her ruined, sweat-soaked clothes. Her clothes were scattered across the room, and her hair, the sheets, and most of the furniture were in absolute disarray. John had left a couple of minutes ago, seeming content to abide by Sarah’s request for him to depart as soon as he had finished himself over her for the third and final time in the evening.

Paul felt a surge of a potent cocktail of emotions he couldn’t describe, fully rising in the bottom of his stomach, but it was his cock who spoke louder than any, throbbing harder and eager at the sight and knowledge of what had happened in the room.

“Come, sweetheart.” Sarah taps the bed beside her hips to signal Paul to approach. “It’s time.”

She beckons. And he knew what she meant.

He stripped down to his underwear before crawling from the bottom of the bed, kissing her feet and legs and tasting another man’s sweat on her while making his way inside her thighs. He let the scent of their shared passion take over his nostrils and felt the saltiness of her skin. A hand was found grasping his hair, and Sarah pulled him closer to her sex, shoving his mouth first into the mess left by her previous lover. He licks her, tasting her arousal and hints of the condom’s lubricants that flowed into his mouth with every pass of his tongue, smeared into his nose, lips, and chin. She rubs herself against her husband’s face and pulls him tighter.

“Yes, lick me. Lick his seed off me. Fuck, he came so much. Can you taste how wet he got me? Can you see how he spread me open and left me all loose? How he coated me in his cum? Way more than you can with your tiny, little balls. Sometimes it’s like they are not even there.” She begins to speak in the throes of passion.

And for the next following few minutes, she vividly describes how she loved licking a true man’s cock, how big John was, and how she could barely fit him in her mouth. She tells how he fingered her, fucked her, and every position and surface they used during the intense three hours of passionate ravaging. By the time Paul’s tongue can make her come, she’s talking about how hard his heavy bull balls had slammed against her sex and that she could almost come from the feeling of them alone. That is before she’s interrupted by her climatic moaning.

Hands caressed Paul’s hair in the aftermath of her orgasm, feeling her sore pussy still aching from John’s thickness in the wake of her husband’s tongue. She guided him to rise again, to kiss her cum-soaked stomach and breasts, and finally, her lips as her hands slid down his side and eventually pulled off his undergarments, letting his small cock pop free. Fully hard and yet likely smaller than John’s when he was soft. Paul’s balls were nearly fully tucked inside his body, barely there, and his prick pathetically dripped pre-cum in anticipation of finally feeling the inside of his wife.

“I guess you earned that,” Sarah says with a smirk and a kiss on his forehead. “You can put it in.”

Paul bites his lips and guides himself inside, finding her loose, still stretched by John’s massive rod. Yet he thrusts, moving his hips to fuck her or attempt to. She giggled and stroked his back. “What, you’re already inside? I can. I think I can feel it, yes.” She says with a playful slap on his buttocks as he continues to pound at her, trying his best to get off even though the previous lover had left her much roomier than he was used to.

But the thought of it and how she laughed more than moaned at his attempts made him throb and twitch, more turned on than he had ever been in his life. So she whispers in his ear how she’s thinking about coming to London soon again, and maybe this time he could watch John fuck her.

“And see if you learn anything in seeing how hard he makes me come,” she adds with a bite to his ear.

That little taunt sends Paul over the edge as his small cock gushes a few drops of seed meekly inside his wife’s gaping pussy as his body collapses in an exhausted, blissful state over her.

“Good boy,” she whispers. “I want to do this again. Very soon.”


The End.


*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Remember, even with limited editing. It doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.

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