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Banana bread
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By *P15 OP Man 14 weeks ago
staines |
As the engine comes to life she again hears the anxious voice in her head.
She is experienced in meditation and over years of practice, is well versed in recognising and harnessing her emotions.
But still. The voice keeps asking her. What do you think you are doing? Like an annoying ear worm it had been buzzing in her head for days. Ever since she had done something she never thought she would do.
She realised she wasn’t driving. Both hands were on the wheel, gripping it slightly tighter than she had meant. It had been mere seconds but she acknowledged the significance of the moment, she’s not as ok with this as she wants to be.
Eyes open, surveying her bright sun dappled street, she takes a deep cleansing breath. Feeling the cool spring air in the back of her nose where she always feels her breath. The voice becomes… numb. Still there but quiet.
Don’t over think.
The car slips into gear and she’s driving.
35 minutes. The satnav begins to count down.
I can turn around at any point she tells herself.
The uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach eases at this thought, allowing her to feel more keenly the excitement that is building there. Her heart is beating quicker.
Don’t over think.
She’d been on the site a few months. He’d been sat right there, watching tv as she’d reached for her phone.
What had started as a curiosity. A mild amusement had become more routine. She had loved checking out the profiles. All these people living a life she had never known existed. Sexy. Liberated. Debauched. Tender.
She’d become a little obsessed. Reading profile after profile. Men’s. Women’s. Sometimes she wondered what she’d been living her whole life. When people could write with such freedom. Some profiles had a list of demands. Black and white do’s and dont’s. So sure what they want. So unafraid to ask, no, to demand it. Others less sure. Putting out into the world ethereal thoughts and hoping someone out there would hear what was needed. She’s been touched by the loneliness in some of the posts. Turned on by the raw assertive masculinity of others.
Her own profile was sparse. Just looking. She had no intention of meeting. This was window shopping. A bored soul wanting to feel something that had been dormant for too long. Then one day, she caught sight of her body in the bathroom mirror as she stepped from the shower. Her firm breasts misted with water. Her nipples hard from the sudden cold.
She’d taken a snap on her phone and uploaded it to her profile before she’d realised. Then, feeling a buzz of naughtiness had laid a towel on the bed before laying on it and had masturbated to a glorious orgasm.
Now he was sat there. In the same routine. Watching some shite. The indifference in the air palpable. And in her hand. A gateway. A portal. She sat as Alice and logged on to fabswingers.
She had taken to reading the fantasies on the forum. Some were funny as hell and she’d laughed out loud at her desk a few times. Or been turned on. More than once on the train home, her expensive Ted Baker knickers becoming had become wet as she read of sweaty bodies entwining and indulging. She was masturbating more frequently these days. Sometimes twice a day. The first time she’d had a wank in the toilets at work she had been surprised at the liberation she had felt.
As she opened the forum a post caught her eye. Banana bread.
The opaque title at odds with the other titles which tended to be more direct in their promises.
She read the story and something inside her clicked. Something changed. She was angry. Angry at having been ignored for so long. Angry that she could have fallen into this place. Loveless. Absent of emotion. Numb. Physically and emotionally.
She looked up at him. Willing him to look back at her. To see her again. Her eyes began to bore into the side of his head. Her clitoris was aching. She still found him attractive. Still wanted to find him again. Despite the years that they had been drifting. She had coughed. Hoping to break him from the LED induced trance.
Nothing. He hadn’t looked up and for the first time she had felt resentment. How dare he. How dare he be so obtuse and careless when there was a whole world waiting on the other side of the looking glass.
Alice, in sadness and anger and lust, stepped over the rubicon. She had replied to the message.
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By *P15 OP Man 14 weeks ago
staines |
So here she was. 3 week later pulling into a new street.
The messages they had exchanged on the site had been strangely professional given the intimacy of the discussion.
Her first message, typed out while she sat on the sofa opposite her husband had merely read ‘your forum post turned me on’.
He had replied in minutes. As he did to any message she sent him. She found this thrilling and disconcerting in equal measure. His relentless interest in her stoked the flame of her lust. She felt desired, wanted. Enough that the cautions of her inner psyche warning of her recklessness were ignored.
Messages had flown back and forth. The quick rhythmic pace of the conversation made her feel as though she had boarded a train that had just one destination many miles from where she started. That she was a passenger, addicted to the intoxication, seduced by the devilment, unable to stop the journey until she arrived.
She had satisfied herself that he was who he said he was. As best she could. He gave her personal details that she could verify. As he had promised he would, social media accounts, photos and a single phone call were exchanged once they had agreed to meet.
And here she was pulling up on his drive. Reckless. Dangerous. Stupid. Alive.
She sat for a moment. This was so stupid. She is 41 years old. Married. Career. And she’s driving across the borough to meet a man from the internet like a hormonal teenager.
She thought again of the forum post. Of the promises held within. She thought of the story. Of arriving at a strangers house. Of knocking at the door. Of entering. Of shared understanding. She thought of taking off her panties. She thought of a stranger’s tongue on her. In her. She thought of all the promises and the intrigue and without conscious thought of her actions, she was standing at his door.
He had been assertive. Single tracked mind. She was swept along by it. The cool transactional interactions, devoid of niceties, of fluff, adding to the desire to fulfil the fantasy.
She thought of his last message
As you arrive at the door. Stop. Remember the rules.
1. No talking.
2. If you say the words banana bread we will stop immediately and you will leave.
3. No talking.
Do not knock unless you are willing to engage in what we have discussed.
She knocks.
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By *P15 OP Man 14 weeks ago
staines |
The door opens almost immediately.
He is serene. Relaxed. She drinks him in. She tempers the excitement she feels. The nerves. She concentrates on her breathing.
For the perfect heartbeat he doesn’t move. She feels a fizz. More than lust. More than excitement. There’s… connection. Not romantic. But charged. Shared adventure. The nucleus of trust.
He takes a half step backwards and she enters. Already falling into her role. Allows herself to be led.
As she steps into a wide entrance hall she takes in the surroundings. Tiled floor. Dark wood. Stylish and underst.. the hand on her shoulder and the simultaneous heavy clunk of the door closing take her by surprise.
Her body involuntarily shudders at his first touch betraying her state of mind.
Immediately she feels his strength as he moves her with controlled force and sweeps her backwards until her back crashes with just enough force into the door to make a bang.
He steps into her space immediately.
Her breathing is quicker. So she fights to control it. He is handsome. Dark hair flecked with grey. His stubbled beard trim and neat. He has a strong physique. Naturally athletic but not gym toned. There’s padding over the strong body which gives him an assertive but not intimidating presence. The scent of his aftershave slowly washes over her. He has dark skin and she wonders if he has Mediterranean or Arabic blood line in his history.
He is close. But his face is impassive. She looks into his grey green eyes and there is the first sign that there is emotion behind the facade. She can see an intensity in his stare. He is looking deep in her eyes. Unflinching. Confident. His breathing is relaxed and deep.
He moves closer still. So close she can feel the heat emanating from his toned physique.
She feels a reciprocal heat deep within her. It radiates from her core. She’s aware of her skin. Electricity buzzes under her clothes.
Her breasts feel swollen. The feel of her nipples pushing on the lace of her bra. She feels a, a power in that moment. Feminine. Desirable. She doesn’t move.
He has one hand on the door above her right shoulder. Penning her in yet leaving enough room on her left that she can move if she needs to. The result is that she feels his power. His physicality. His presence. But not threatened. not claustrophobic.
His touch when it finally arrives is deliberate and assured.
The fingers of his right hand find the bare skin of the inside of her thigh. At the hem line of her dress. And they rest. It’s the first time she has felt the touch of another man in such an intimate way in 15 years. The warmth of them against her skin alien. She embraces feel of him, of being displaced in this unknown world with this unknown man. She relaxes as she sinks into her role. Her breathing is slow now, in rhythm with his. She wants this. She feels it deep within her. This is right. This feels good.
Still he is studying her as he plays with the pressure of his fingers. Kneading her inner thigh. Feeling the tone of her and moving only millimetres from the same spot. He seems to be examining her response.
Slowly now his fingers trace up her thigh.
She feels a warmth growing. An ache. She waits, motionless. Anticipation growing with every inch his fingers trace their inexorable path.
He pauses
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By *P15 OP Man 14 weeks ago
staines |
In a move that is sudden and practiced he lifts her dress and both hands feel the band of her knickers.
She feels wonderfully out of control. Submitting gloriously to the moment as he pulls down her underwear in an effortless motion.
Now he kneels before her and she is exposed to him, his hands keeping her dress bunched up at her waist.
He seems to be lost. Breathing deeply now through his nose. Fixated. She feels free. Unseen. As though when she stepped through the door, she became something else, someone else. He stares at her freshly shaved labia. At her neatly cropped stripe of pubic hair. As she looks in his eyes she sees his pupils are wide as saucers. As though he is enchanted. As though the power of her feminine beauty as bewitched him. As though all her essence, all her spirit is temporarily condensed to that one intimate area. The thought of being desired like this. Physically. With no expectation. With an understanding of the purely animalistic reason for being overwhelms her. Her desire is electrified. She feels a drip run down her thigh and she cannot remember the last time she felt this wet.
He sees it as she feels it and his reverie is broken. He looks up into his eyes as he sightlessly lifts one foot out of her knickers and plants it back deliberately in a wide stance.
They stand looking unbroken. Communicating only through pheromones and the subtlety of their eye movement.
What is he waiting for. She wants his mouth on her vagina. She needs to be touched. She wants to say it. Lick me. Fuck me. Take me. But forces herself to be silent. She can barely keep eye contact such is the intensity.
She closes her eyes and rolls her head back against the heavy wooden door.
At her submission he pounces.
A jolt of pain shoots to her spine from her vagina. He is rough.
His lips and tongue working with pressure and speed as though he were a dying man and the essence of her was the elixir of life.
Her mood changes. It’s pleasurable to be touched, even so indelicately, but this isn’t going to work for her. She feels a flood of regret and indecision as for the first time it occurs to her that this may not go as she wishes.
In the time it takes for her mind to tell her body to move from his rough motion but before her muscles can obey, he stops. Not entirely. But seems to rest soft lips against her labia.
And then. Oh fuck and then. Waves of pleasure emanate up her body as he works his tongue gently against her.
She begins to zone out of the world as 4 of her senses numb and the 5th becomes reborn.
His tongue laps as the tide against her. His velvet stroke lubricated by her excitement and his saliva. Her eyes are closed. Her face serene. His slow rhythm interchanged with playful nibbles and gentle sucking of her labia. She’s aware of his hands now on her ample buttocks. Firm controlling. The brat in her wants to thrust against him. To direct his tongue onto her aching clitoris that is being completely ignored.
She forces herself to submit. Understanding that she is his plaything. That he is in control.
His pace gently crescendos and falls. Never reaching allegretto and she starts to feel numb to it. Intrusive thoughts flood her mind. She wants something inside her. His fingers. His cock. She wants her clit to be sucked and licked. But he just keeps on with she same, maddeningly slow pace.
Now he is rolling her in his mouth. More sucking than licking. She feel blood filling her lips. Feels them swelling. The intensity of her desire both wanes and rises as she becomes frustrated. Slide into me. Slide it in she thinks over and over.
Holy fuck! His tongue slides expertly against her clit. Oh. She wants to explode as his tongue finds the mark. He is still concentrating mostly around her labia minora then with increasing frequency he licks her clitoral head.
The first involuntary gasp escapes her mouth as he now moves his focus. His tongue sometimes stiff and quick, and others flat and gentle teases and explores her crus and corpus.
And now. Another change. He is no longer varying his movements but concentrated.
She feels the power building in her in time with his quickened pace. The rhythmic lapping of her clitoris sending waves after wave of pleasure into her pussy and lower abdomen.
Her breath is quick now as her eyes tighten and she focuses on the intense warmth they’re creating.
He stands and before she realises what has happened he has spun her and placed her hands against the door, her legs spread.
His weathered hands push against hers as he stands against her. Her bum pushes out and finds him.
She feels his hard cock probing. Trapped inside its cotton prison she feels him thrust against her. She luxuriates in the feel of his excitement. Turned on that he is turned on merely by the act of licking her.
She wills him to release it. To fill her void. she grinds against him. She senses it. His desire. His barely tamed need to fuck her right there.
Slide into me.
Her wrist is taken and now they are moving through the house. She feels a chill between her legs as a breeze whispers at the wet mess he created.
To the living room. He leads her by the hand to the wide deep sofa, spins her and positions her on all fours. But it’s not enough. He now pushes her head down so her arse is in the air.
All thoughts of being exposed, of vulnerability are soon forgotten as his mouth again finds its target.
As before he licks her expertly. Keeping her in a state of ecstasy but never allowing her to get to into one rhythm.
That is until she feels it. His tongue sliding into her. At first shallow. A flick. But then deeper. And deeper. She pushes back against him as he begins to fuck her with his long powerful tongue.
Now he is groaning. She tries to look back at him but can’t make out his face. Probably because it is mostly buried in her vagina and her arse.
The feel of him inside her is frantic. He is moaning openly with pleasure. The noise of his greedy licking and sucking reigniting her hearing.
Now it’s hard. His face pushed tightly against her pussy. His tongue so deep in her. He can’t breathe. She knows this because he has to release the pressure and she hears him take a deep breath before plunging all the way back in again.
She rides wave after wave of pleasure but longs for more. She wants to fuck. She wants to feel his hardness inside her.
He comes up for air again but as she expects him to dive right back in he pauses.
Repositions his body slightly before he bends into her and sucks in her perineaumn.
The sensation is intense. His tongue sliding gently into her and his top lip resting against her most intimate hole.
She tenses slightly. She has never been eaten so thoroughly. Oral has always seemed like a chore to men. A starter to be wolfed down before the main meal. But this man seems to be luxuriating in it. And he doesn’t seem happy with just the one course.
His tongue slides out of her vagina. And gently traces upwards. He pauses a while. When she doesn’t move he lightly flicks his tongue against her anus.
She doesn’t know what to feel. She is uncomfortable but the sensation is not entirely without pleasure. So she doesn’t move. Wondering where we are going next.
The answer is not long to be delivered. He flicks his tongue against her again. And again.
And now slower. He traces around her opening.
She feels tense and tries to relax herself into it. Exposed. Vulnerable. But hasn’t he earned trust. Hasn’t he paused at every moment to check wordlessly on her. Read her body language. Built slowly. She relaxes. Gives up and close her eyes and enjoys the new sensation.
He must feel it too. For now the pressure is greater. His flat tongue is pushing against her. It’s a sensation like nothing she has felt before. Intense. Intimate. His hands now grab her buttocks. He does not move them. Just takes a firm grasp of them. And then slides a pointed tongue into her tightest space.
Her mind races. The feel of his hands. The unusual sensation. It’s almost too much.
The roughness with which he flips her onto her back takes her by surprise.
She feels disorientated. What the fuck is going on. Was his tongue really just in my arse??
But there’s not time because now she is truly lost.
His tongue works quickly and with pressure against her clitoris.
Oh fuck. She feels it building. Her resps coming in quick sharp stabs as he expertly finds the exact rhythm that will send her over the edge.
He is moaning now. Muffled exhalations escapes sing in time with her thrusting hips. Her body goes stiff. As sign they both recognise.
He keeps the pace.
The most intense feeling builds between her legs. It feels as though there is a heavenly light emitting from her.
Her groans.
His groans.
Her hips thrusting.
The rhythm.
She tries to hold on. Drawing out the pleasure
But then she feels it.
Two fingers slide into her and his tongue pushes against her clit and she off
Waves after wave of orgasm ripples through her body.
His fingers are pushing up in the roof of her vagina and his tongue tries and fails to keep rhythm agains the spasmodic thrusts of her pelvis
She comes. Hard.
He laps at her opening. Drinking down his reward. Ensuring he stays away from her clit which feels 7 times the size and ultra sensitive.
She goes to talk and just in time remembers the rules.
Panting she lays there. A mess. A wonderful wonderful mess.
She wants him. Wants him inside her. Feels the need to feel him cum too. But that wasn’t the agreement.
She was only to come. Let him lick her out. And leave. Not a word was to be spoken. Not a change in the plan permitted.
She feels deflated. It was lovely and intense. But she is still in heat. She wants him. Anyone really but mostly him.
She’s suddenly aware. Of a rhythm. Against her. What is he doing. He’s still going. Her clut is so sensitive. Every now and then he explores but she tenses. The pleasure pain barrier not quite in balance. So he licks at her labia and her opening and her perineum. Until. He licks her clit again. And this time there is no tensing. This time it aches but it feels sooo good. He build quickly.
She cannot believe it. She’s going to come again. She can feel it almost immediately What is this. She’s never cum twice in a row before but sure enough she has skipped steps one to 9 and arrived straight at 10. 11.
She moans. He moans her desire is through the roof.
He rolls onto his back hooking her thigh as he does so. She’s now straddling his face.
Oh good lord this feels amazing. Strong arms hook over her thighs and he pulls all her weight down onto his mouth.
What. The. Hell?
She feels nothing but the desire to cum again.
He’s pulling her down, down onto him. His tongue against her opening. Her clit smashed against his top lip. The pain. The pleasure.
She grinds. He groans with pleasure. Recourse she grinds harder. And faster. He responds by pulling her tighter and tighter
She’s lost. At sea. All she can fee is the white hot heat exploding from her.
She moans as she fucks his face. Pushing his head with violence into the sofa.
An orgasm explodes from her. The pain. The pleasure. It goes in and on until she cannot bear it any more and she gingerly climbs off his face.
When he emerges she is horrified to she has bust his lip.
Blood seeps from his mouth and mixes with her juices and his saliva. She feels terrible and goes to apologise immediately. His finger pushes against her lips to silence her and she sees a beautiful smile across his face.
He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and looks down at his waist. She follows his gaze and notices the bulge of his erection straining against his trousers. But also. His trousers are soaked around the end of his nob.
She looks astonished at his face and he sheepishly grins. Confirming what she can’t quite believe. He came. She doesn’t know when but she’s sure his hands were on her hips.
Her head is a daze.
She smells herself. And aftershave. As he leans in. And kisses her tenderly on the cheek.
Still lost. Still working out what just happened. She’s is now being led to the door.
He opens it and she looks at his face. Now boyish. Now relaxed. The mask he wore as she arrived vanished. There is tenderness there. Contentment.
She understands.
But still feels a little sad. This was the plan. This was what was agreed. Don’t say a word. Let me lick you out. Then leave.
She sits with her feeling. The sadness replaced by power. The anticipation replaced with satisfaction. The anxiety removed by ownership of her life.
She walks through the door. And down the drive way. And she doesn’t look back.
Alice has stepped through the looking glass.
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