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My affair with Stevie; if that’s what you want to call it is still going on today. It’s not an affair in the conventional sense as there is absolutely no chance that he would ever buy me flowers or take me to a French Restaurant. Nor would I want him to. We are as he quaintly calls it – ‘fuck-buddies’.

We still occasionally go to the derelict factory on a Friday afternoon and the odd evening after work. I genuinely am hooked like a junkie on his cock. I absolutely adore sucking it, especially when I know that there are perverts watching us. I always wear stockings and suspenders under something loose and easy to remove so I can put on a show for them in my sexiest lingerie and boobs and bum on show. I’ve even fucked him a few times in the car. I use that word a lot now when we’re together….I love using it….and tits and cock and cunt. That’s a word I hate hearing in any other circumstances but when I’m with him in the car just wearing my frilly undies and I’ve sucked his big cock for 10 minutes or so I love telling him that I want him to ‘fuck or finger my sweaty cunt’. Even the thought of saying it turns me on.

I prefer sucking him off but if there is a crowd gathered; from time to time I’ll clamber over the seats until I straddle his big cock and make him suck my tits while I ride him to a mutual climax. I always make sure the doors are locked but the kick I get from watching 4 or 5 dirty old men wanking next to the windows as I fuck the living daylights out of my young lover makes the mess they leave worthwhile.

Stevie also converted me to enjoy watching and reading porn on the internet at this time. He recommended loads of websites (including this one!) and I soon became hooked on porn and erotica too. Only his PC was capable of watching it in the office but I now pass many a lonely hour in hotels when I visit our factories around the UK, watching hardcore movies and reading very, very naughty stories.

I do my work e-mails and prepare my files for the following day as soon as I arrive in the room, then order room-service with a bottle of wine then settle down for an evening of porn and self-abuse. This might sound vain but I love sitting in a set of sexy undies and high healed shoes watching myself in a mirror as I masturbate reading a sexy story or watching a porno movie. Every fantasy I’d ever loosely considered is catered for and a few that have made my hair curl….but I still watch or read them to the end. It’s a poor night if I only cum twice but as often or not I cum three or four times. Baring in mind I still see Steve at least once a week… I am now in sexual Heaven.

A few months after I started my affair I went to a black-tie Rugby Club Dinner Dance with my husband and wore my favourite ‘little black dress’ which is two inches above my knee with a reasonably plunging neckline that highlights my bust if I wear a Wonderbra with it. For this occasion I decided to wear a pair of black Gerbe Carnation 10 denier fully fashioned stockings (shiny and seamed!) with the black six-strap suspender belt that I’d bought online that night with Stevie.

Even my husband thought I looked sexy when I made my entrance into the living-room.

“Bloody Hell, Jools!” He gasped as he sipped a large glass of whisky, “you look fu…bloody gorgeous.”

I smiled and gave him a twirl to show off my seamed stockings. Seconds later the taxi driver tooted his horn and Greg gulped down the last of his drink. He was very attentive in the back of the car; telling me how lucky he was to have me and fondling my suspenders through my dress. Sadly experience told me that his good mood wouldn’t last the night.

As soon as we arrived at the hotel he went to the bar and got side-tracked talking to a friend; leaving me to make small talk with a couple of other rugby widows. Eventually a waiter arrived with a tray of wine. We took two glasses each.

The night went just as I expected. I got bored and Greg got pissed. The only consolation was the amount of attention that my stockings brought me. As the night wore on a procession of men offered to buy me drinks and flirt with me as my husband propped up the bar. I danced with a couple of the younger players and ‘accidentally’ let two attractive ones look down my cleavage when I adjusted the strap on my shoes. At the end of the night Greg was virtually carried to the taxi and slept all of the way home. He was so drunk I left him to sleep on the sofa while I went to bed alone and masturbated as I watched a porno movie of a middle-aged woman getting roasted off two well hung young black men on my laptop.

When I left home on the following Monday morning for a two day visit to our Glasgow factory I packed the seamed stockings and suspender belt. I wore a barely-black pair of hold ups during the day but changed into the seamed stockings as soon as I got into the hotel room. As usual I sat in my undies to check my e-mails and prepare my work for the following day.

Just as I picked up the room-service menu I looked at myself bahis firmaları in the large mirror. Memories of Saturday night and the attention my stockings had received came flooding back.

Ten minutes later I was ordering a glass of wine in the hotel bar wearing a lemon cashmere sweater and my seamed stockings under a nice grey pencil skirt that nicely showed the bumps of my suspenders.

My stockings got the reaction I wanted (needed?). Plenty of guys looked longingly in my direction. I got such a buzz from just walking around the bar and restaurant as sexily as possible. At least once in the bar and once in the restaurant I sat in such a way that my stocking welt must have come into view.

After dinner I took the lift up the six floors to my room with two young men who had followed me from the bar. I could tell that they were bursting to speak to me but were probably intimidated. This didn’t bother me as I just wanted them to ‘want’ me. Alone in my room I quickly stripped down to my stockings suspenders and shoes and read a couple of very naughty stories as I watched myself fingering my cunt in the long mirror. I came three times in ten minutes.

I did much the same the following night with exactly the same effect. It felt incredibly decadent as I stalked the bar and restaurant as if I was a lioness shadowing her prey. Only one man actually spoke to me and that was merely a ‘Good evening’ but I wasn’t really looking to ‘pull’; I was more than happy teasing these men, then going back to my room to pleasure myself.

This became a regular occurrence for me over the next few weeks; dressing quite sexily without appearing tarty when I stayed in hotels and I always wore seamed stockings which the men all appeared to appreciate. My other trick was to wear a non-wired bra; which paired with a nice pair of high-heels made my boobs bounce when I walked through a room. Only a couple of guys ever plucked up the courage to speak to me at different times and buy me a drink but it never really led to anything….just more self-indulgent masturbation.

I nearly weakened one night in Newcastle with a gorgeous Irish man called Roy who was keen to get me into bed. He looked like boxer and had short black hair with dark brooding eyes which pieced my heart. I was very tempted but after a couple of glasses of wine all he could talk about was his new managerial job in ‘waste management’ and how he was desperate to make his new sales team the biggest and best ‘waste management’ company in the North-East. Sadly talking shit about a shit removal company wasn’t likely to get him into my knickers.

Then the following evening I was struggling to get my overnight holdall, laptop case, carrier bag from Fenwick plus a large file out of my car while I held my umbrella to stop myself getting soaked in a torrential downpour in a Newcastle hotel car park when a large man wearing an expensive overcoat that was buttoned up to his neck and the collar pulled up high asked if he could help me.

Before I could answer; my file was under his arm and he was pulling my holdall towards the hotel entrance while my laptop bag swung from his shoulder.

I had to hurry through the puddles to keep up with him. Once inside the foyer he attracted the attention of a concierge and handed over my things.

“Ahem,” I stammered as I shook my umbrella dry, “Thanks.”

His rugged face lit up with a smile and he replied, “My pleasure…maybe you can buy me a drink later?” Then he disappeared into the lift.

I booked into my room; quickly prepared my work and checked my e-mails then got dressed into a lovely cream ruffle dress with a low cut neckline I’d bought the week before and planned to wear the following day when I was holding interviews at our North East factory. Tonight I matched it with a new white and pink 6 strap suspender belt and matching thong which held up a pair of nude Pretty Polly Vintage seamed stockings. I felt supremely sexy and ready to let a hotel full of men desire me.

I know that sounds vain and no one who knows me would possibly believe I could be so arrogant but I sometimes think Stevie released a second completely new personality from my own personal Pandora’s Box.

The lounge was already quite busy when I entered. A cluster of men made way for me to get to the bar to order a drink. My pulse quickened when I heard them whispering and giggling as I past them. Three even played ‘titty tennis’ as my eldest son calls it – standing close to each other as I squeezed past; making sure I rubbed their elbows against my boobs. Little did they know that I deliberately pressed against them? After being served I looked around for somewhere to sit and read my magazine but all of the tables were taken and there wasn’t much room for me to parade around the way I liked. Things weren’t going to plan; so I decided to go straight to the restaurant.

“A table for one please.” I asked the Maitre D and showed him my key card. “Have you booked a table?” He asked as he looked kaçak iddaa at the bookings and turned his eyes diffidently up to mine.

“No.” I replied indignantly. “Did I need to?”

“I’m very sorry madam.” He apologised, “but as you can see we are very busy tonight and there won’t be a free table until 9.30.”

I was so shocked I couldn’t speak and was mentally preparing for another night with room-service.

“It looks like I’m going to be your white knight for a second time today.” A gruff voice said from behind my shoulder.

Before I could turn around the stranger had told the Maitre D that he already had a table booked and the young lady would be his guest……if that was okay with me.

It took a few seconds for me to recognise him as the gentleman who had carried my bags into the hotel earlier in the evening.

“That’s very kind of you.” I told him then turned to face the Maitre D, who thinly smiled and took two menus from a holder and led us to a corner table with a view over the river and the twinkling lights of the famous Quayside.

He was called Sam and had just joined a local company that was based in the city; but he still had to travel all over the UK staying in hotels 2 or 3 nights a week. Like me he was married with two teenage sons but he was a bit older – 54. As the wine flowed we chatted and flirted a little; with me accusing him of having a different lover in every city. As we finished our first bottle of wine I decided that he was ‘ruggedly handsome’ in a Jack Nicholson kind of way. He was nearly 6 feet tall and a good stone or so overweight with a bit of a paunch and short greying hair.

It became obvious that he was in senior management as we chatted. He was very self-confident without being big-headed. He was used to be being in charge and getting his own way….I soon had high hopes for the rest of the evening.

He flattered me several times during the meal and told me that he had guessed I was wearing stockings when he saw me in the car park; the seams I was now wearing were confirmation.

I asked what made him think I’d been wearing stockings earlier in the day.

“One of them was wrinkled around your ankle.” He grinned and shrugged his shoulders, “a giveaway to an expert like me!”

I blushed.

We then chatted about stockings and how long I’d been wearing them and what type I liked best and what types he liked best and the argument of hold-ups versus stockings and suspenders at the end of the second bottle of wine I was very merry and more than a little bit frisky.

After agreeing to half the bill we retired to the lounge for a nightcap. Sam insisted on paying and ordered two large Remy Martin Cognacs. We sat opposite each other in two large leather armchairs. I made sure I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times so that he could get a good look at my stocking tops without drawing too much attention from the rest of the room. Our conversation soon became a lot more personal with Sam admitting to having several affairs in his younger days and had had several one night stands in hotels in his younger days. I of course denied ever having strayed…but gave him a lusty wink at the same time.

As we finished our drinks Sam still hadn’t made a real move on me. I’d had a great night and decided that he must have been happy with looking up my skirt and down my cleavage.

Once we were in the lift Sam went very quiet as if he didn’t know what to say next.

As we walked along the corridor I decided I would give it one last shot at seducing him and if nothing happened – so be it.

“Can I ask a favour please?”

“Of course you can.” Sam replied.

“This dress has a bugger of a catch….could you unfasten it for me please?” I asked when we reached my room, then turned my back towards him as I opened the door.

His chubby fingers easily unclipped the catch then pulled the zip all the way down in one fluent movement exposing the back of my bra, suspenders and panties.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Sam whispered nervously. I looked over my shoulder, smiled and raised my eyebrows. As soon as the door was closed we grabbed hold of each other in a passionate embrace and kissed. His tongue quickly slid past my teeth and kept going until it was tickling the roof of my mouth. By the time we unlocked our lips my dress was on the floor and my knees were weak. Sam gently pushed me away and held me at arms length so he could examine my undies and body. I held my stomach in.

With a grin on his face he pulled me back and kissed me again; only this time his huge hands mauled my boobs and bum and legs. His tongue was driving me wild and I felt like a teenager as we pressed our bodies together and ground our hips against each other.

With fingers like a magician he unhooked my bra and flung it across the room before I even knew it was off! He stopped kissing my lips and began kissing and licking my boobs and nipples. He was amazing…..I was soon trembling and kaçak bahis needed to see, feel and suck his cock.

I was trembling so much as he sucked on my tingling nipples I struggled to unfasten his belt and pull the zip down…..but I managed.

What Sam was doing with his tongue was breathtaking…making me gasp and ooh and ahhh while he squeezed my bum and stroked my nylons. Then when I finally pulled his pants down and released his cock I really did gasp. It was as big as Stevie’s but thicker…much thicker.

“Ooh; that looks big Sam.” I purred.

“Oh yeesssss….” Sam soon sighed and threw his head back as I ran my fingernail along the length of it. He edged back until he was pressed against the bathroom door then wriggled his hips until his trousers and pants were around his ankles as I examined his stiffening cock by pulling the foreskin back and stretching the skin around the shaft until the veins looked like they might explode.

“Are you going to suck it for me?” he asked when our eyes met.

He needn’t have asked….. I was desperate to taste yet another mans cock in my married mouth.

I slid to my knees and began worshipping his magnificent manhood by rubbing it across my face and showering it with hundreds of tiny lipsticked kisses.

“Oh my… God!” “Oh yes…oh yes!” Sam kept panting and mumbling as I pulled as much of his cock and foreskin into my hot mouth. It felt deliciously naughty as I sucked on it and pushed the floppy foreskin back with my tongue and then felt it spring back again. I was nearly hallucinating as I struggled to get my fingers around the girth and wank the shaft as I scratched and tugged his hairy scrotum.

When Sam tried to lean forward to grab my tits he accidentally pushed his cock right into the back of my mouth making me cough and splutter. Taking advantage of the situation he grabbed the back of my head and began thrusting his hips until he was actually fucking my mouth. I grabbed his hips to keep my balance and began breathing through my nose as his fat thing slid in and out.

“Ugh….ugh….UUGGGHHH!” He suddenly grunted and his seed spewed out filling the back of my throat.

“Shhiiiiitttt!” Sam sighed as he took hold of his shaft and pumped the last few drops out and onto my aching chin.

Pleased with myself I rolled back until I was sitting on my calves while I swallowed his seed. It was much thicker than Stevie’s – a bit like porridge and had a much stronger taste; salty and bitter but not unpleasant. I liked it – I liked it a lot. Sam had a look of pure delight on his face as he slowly tugged on his rapidly shrinking cock making little pearls of spunk ooze out of the tip onto my tits. I’d enjoyed sucking his dick but it was all over in a couple of minutes and I needed satisfying……and NOW.

I must have had a look of disappointment on my face because Sam smiled and said, “Don’t worry….there’s more where that came from; it’ll just need a little rest.”

I was relieved.

“Get on the bed.” Sam’s voice was now very authorative. “On all fours with your arse in the air.”

“Yes sir!” I saluted as I quickly stood up, making my boobs wobble. “Anything you say sir!”

As I climbed onto the bed I began to take my knickers off.

“No, leave them on.” He told me.

I positioned myself in the way he had told me. I looked over my shoulder as Sam stripped off. His body was entirely covered in fine pepper-pot hair (grey and brown); his tubby belly hung down a little bit; but he was a big man in every sense of the word in fact he was a bear of a man.

When he stood behind me I didn’t know what to expect because his cock was still hanging limply between his legs so I knew I wasn’t going to get the hard fucking I craved.

Sam knelt on the floor and started kissing my bum cheeks then he pulled them apart and began kissing my pussy through my thong; making me swoon. Then he began gliding his long tongue along the outline of my sex crack. He soon increased the speed and the pressure until he was pushing my panties inside with his tongue. I was now wriggling about and grabbing hold of the quilt as he pinched my cheeks and shook them from side to side to slap his face. I was gurgling with pleasure when his long wet tongue touched my bum hole through the drenched material of my thong. Eventually he pulled my panties to one side and started over again only now directly onto my quivering soft flesh. He started by licking the skin on the sides…knowing this would drive me wild. I was now rocking backwards trying to get him to lick my hole but her persisted in licking everything but. Then he did it. He slid his tongue into my hot wet willing cunt.

AT LAST! It was the most amazing sensation I’d ever known as his tongue curled inside my pussy then out again to glide along my soft folds then….back inside again…then….then back out and in one long slurp he licked my bum hole. Only this time there was no silk separating his tongue from my sensitive folds. I gasped and became light-headed as he finally probed the opening with the tip.

I’m sure I heard him giggle when I purred when he concentrated on licking the very sensitive folds that protected my most private of holes.

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