I rang the doorbell.  I was wearing a short mac and high heeled shoes, as instructed.  After a short pause the door opened, and Chad beckoned me in.  We’d chatted – a lot – but this was the first time I’d met him in the flesh, so as to speak.  He looked good.  Solid, older, and confident.

He held his hand out for my mac.  I took it off and stood there naked, just as I had been told to be.  The black shoes, a light stripe of hair leading up from the slit between my legs, and a chain around my ankle were the only things I wore.

He looked me up and down and I moved toward him.  As I leaned against him, I could feel his heat and the smell of arousal.  I felt his hand move to the junction at the top of my thighs as he gently spread me apart.  I knew he would be pleased. He was seeing how wet I was, and I was wet.  As I drove, I had felt my excitement trickling from me.  There was a damp spot on the mac and on the driver’s seat.

Satisfied, he took me into a small room.  There was Hilda.  I didn’t know it then, but she is a pretty, petite, French girl.  Intelligent, holding down a good job and highly respected at work, at home she is Chad’s devoted sub, and she adores him.  All I saw then was this pretty lass kneeling on a chaise lounge, her bottom up and her dark pink rosebud pointing at me.  Her breasts were pressed against the low arm and her head was low.  I could see a drop glistening from one of her lips; that if she had ever had anal sex there was no sign of it on her delicate sphincter, and there was a fading pink handprint on her right buttock. And she too was wearing nothing but high heels and an anklet.

Without a word, Chad motioned me to adopt the same position.  So, there I was, bottom up, head down, my thigh gently pressing against Hilda’s thigh, and I thought, “Oh my god, I hope I don’t drip onto the couch!”

The very next moment, I feel a thick dildo rubbing gently between my legs - back and forth a few times, spreading the slipperiness and spreading my lips.  I feel it lodge into my open and needy vagina, and it gently pushes in, so very slowly.  Millimetre by millimetre it pushes in and down, and I suddenly realise this is no dildo – this is Chad.  My god it’s perfect, bliss on a bike!  I begin to move, and he says sharply, “Hold still!”  I try.  I bite my bottom lip and he’s in, fully in and I moan and wriggle.  With a smart tap on the base of my spine he says again, “Hold still!”  It’s agony, it’s ecstasy, but I hold still. 

I fill full, I feel wonderful, and then he starts to withdraw, just as slowly.  Ahh no!  My body is feeling abandoned and just as I know I’ve lost him, I’ve lost his manhood, he stops and reverses, once again pushing with that slow movement in me.  I almost sob with relief.  This goes on three times and then suddenly he takes himself right out of me.  I’m disoriented, I’m lost, but just as suddenly I feel Hilda beside me move forward as he thrusts himself forcefully into her patiently waiting sex.  There is a soft gasp from her as his ball sac smacks against her thighs making its unmistakable sound.  “Oh”, I thought, “Oh, I want that! That’s got to be amazing”.

I felt Hilda’s whole body move as Chad surged into her twice more, and then she was still, and I felt his phallus seeking entry to me again, and this time, without a by your leave, he was fully engaged in me and I felt the weight of his sac and it was I good as I had imagined.  He switched four times between us. (Actually, it might have been forty, I really wasn’t counting.)  And then, he did something different.  I’m not sure what it was: a different angle, a change of pace.  I do know he put the gentlest pressure on my puckering hole that was pulsing all on its own and I came.  I shuddered, and I came.  I gushed, and I came.  All over the couch and Chad.  And there I had been worrying about dripping!

As I returned to ordinary human, I became aware of Chad in me.  Short fast pushes: one, two, three.  One two, three.  One, two, three.  And then a long push and he held still, and I could feel his shaft and head pulse, and pulse, and pulse.  With a slow pull I felt him being withdrawn.  Hilda was cradling his sac and gently, reverently pulling him out.  She held a pad of tissues between my legs while she suckled him clean and kept him hard.  She had her needs too...

Putting the Kleenex into my hands she looked after her man.  I watched, then got up, got my mac, and let myself out, as I had been told, “Once you’ve been satiated, leave!”  As I drove away, each time I used the clutch I could feel the slip and slide of his gift in me.  And yes, I had more stains on the mac – I sent it to the dry cleaners.