The Morning After #1

I slept like a log, the sleep of the dead though perhaps not the innocent, only waking when I felt the bed move beneath me and my shoulder being gently shaken.

As I came awake and realised it was John, that I was in his daughters bed, in his house, the events of the previous night came flooding back with a mix of sudden excitement and rush of embarrassment. And then I thought I must look a mess, hair tousled, eyes full of sleep.

Doing my best to tidy myself I sat upright against the pillows, coyly hiding naked breasts with the covers, half hiding my face as though ashamed to look him in the eye after all we had exchanged the night before. I really, for a moment at least, didn't know where to put myself or how to react. Only when I did finally look him in the eye and see the warmth and understanding in his did I begin to realise my own foolishness. We had both indulged last night. It was a mutual thing. Why should I feel embarrassed or ashamed? I smiled back at him and took the proffered cup of tea from his hand, sipping at it for a moment and letting its warm aroma sooth and refresh me.

He didn't say a word while I sipped, simply sitting there in silence allowing me to compose my thoughts, giving me space and time to come to terms with things. When finally I looked up we smiled and I noticed for the first time that he was already fully dressed in outdoor clothing, smoothly shaven and hair brushed tidily. He asked if I had slept well and when I told him I had he said he had slept better than he'd enjoyed for a very long time. He then said he was going over to a friends farm for a days pheasant shooting, an arrangement made previously, and when I made to get up and make myself ready to leave so as not to hinder him he told me to relax, that I was more than welcome to stay for as long as I wanted and just take my time with the morning, he didn't expect me to just rush off simply because he had a prior arrangement. He gave me brief and simple instructions about locking up when I did leave, then stood to go. He hesitated for a moment then turned back to look at me, leaning over me and kissing my forehead gently.

"Thank you for last night Stella," he said in low tones, "I enjoyed it, enjoyed it more than I can say."

After a momentary flush of embarrassment at his mentioning it I suddenly felt grateful that he had. Squeezing his fingers in my own I assured him that I too had enjoyed it, enjoyed it immensely.

He kissed my forehead once more then turned to leave. At the door he stopped once more and for a moment looked at me in silence. He appeared to be struggling with something and I gave him the time to sort his thoughts out. Finally he walked back to the bed and looked down at me.

"Stella, I don't want to appear forward, or greedy, or anything like that. I believe what we enjoyed last night was very mutual and very special. I am going to be gone all day but if I were to find you still here when I returned I would be delighted, truly delighted. I would be elated. The offer is there, I won't press." And with that he turned and left.

I mulled over his suggestion for a while, finding myself rather taken with the idea. I mean, why not? I had nothing else to do over the weekend other than the boring washing and cleaning and that could be postponed till later in the week. And last night had been pretty amazing, the fact being that just thinking about it, about all we had done and said, got me feeling horny once more. I was tempted to enjoy a frig there and then, my mind full of the previous nights excitements, but then I made my mind up, just like that, an unusual thing for me. I would stay and if I were going to stay then I wanted tonight to be as exciting as last night .. so no secret frigs!

Forcing myself from the bed I went and took a shower to take my mind off my arousal, then in a towel robe which I found hanging behind the bathroom door I made my way down to the kitchen for more tea.

The day passed surprisingly fast. I spent much of the morning just lazing around the beautiful house in my robe, looking through his vast collection of books and nosing into rooms I probably had no right to be in!

After a light lunch I dressed in my work clothes with the thought of driving back to my own place and picking up fresh clothing and my toiletries .. but then I thought of all the hassle and the fact it would feel a bit contrived to go all the way home and all the way back into town again.

In the large garage adjoining the kitchen I found a green quilted jacket hanging on the pegs and a pair of sheepskin lined snow boots that fitted quite well, probably a residue of his wife or daughter. All togged up I took a long walk out the back of the property and away from the housing scheme, delighting in the virgin snow and the stark winter landscape. I walked until tired with the struggle through soft deep drifts, each step a high lifted plod, the boots now stuffed with snow which clung to my dark tights and melted through them. Nose and cheeks red and numb with cold I finally made it back to the house, stripped off wet clothing, made some tea and fell asleep in front of the imitation log fire.

When I awoke it was just turning dark and a quick reckoning made me decide it would be about an hour, probably two, before he returned. The shooting would end with darkness, probably before, and I liked to believe he would not linger with friends or in the pub for too long if he thought I might still be in the house awaiting his return.

Pouring myself a generous glass of a white wine I found already open in the fridge I ran a deep hot bath and lounged in it until my skin was rosy red, for the first time that day truly allowing my mind the pleasure of running through the previous nights events. Although I could hardly believe what we had shared the facts were undeniable and as I re-ran our words and actions in my head I became very aroused. It was only then I came up with the idea of shaving myself. Why not? I had heard of others doing it, read that many men liked it because it made the woman younger, more like a little girl. Should I do it? Would John be turned on by it? I was sure he would be. I knew I would be, I'd always loved the fantasy of being a little girl at the hands of a wicked and dirty old man so I supposed at least one of us would get a thrill out of it! But I was sure he would love it as well. It may have been the wine, or my state of arousal, more likely a combination of the two, but there and then I made my mind up and finding a fresh razor in the bathroom cabinet I set about very carefully and methodically shaving off every trace of pubic hair. Just doing it, and especially the knowledge of why I was doing it, was a turn on, and by the time I was finally smooth and devoid of all hair I was very, very aroused. When I gently applied some Baby lotion to my now pinkly rashed flesh it took considerable self control not to masturbate there and then.

I dried, put on some light make up and once more used the perfume I'd found in the bathroom. Hair and teeth brushed I went back down to the kitchen in only the robe and was just thinking about pouring myself another glass of wine when I heard his Range Rover crunching up the through the snow in the drive. Suddenly I became all nervous and self conscious, even a bit of an intruder, wondering if I was being too bold by dressing simply in the robe, wondering if I was pushing things too far ...

I didn't get a chance to change my mind. The door connecting garage to kitchen swung open and Tom stepped through. He halted momentarily, his eyes running up and down my barely dressed body which only increased my feelings of self consciousness, then his mouth broke into a warm smile and his eyes creased with genuine pleasure.

"Stella, what a delight you're still here. I was rather worried you might have gone back home. Here, help me with these things would you?" and with that he handed me two large Pizza boxes, freeing a hand so he could close the door behind him and keep the chill out of the kitchen.

As he busied himself turning on the gas oven and placing the pizza boxes inside it to keep warm he gabbled away about his days shooting and his choice of toppings for the pizza. I was barely listening, my mind still swirling and confused, so when he asked if I liked his choices all I could do was nod my head in agreement. He'd bought chilled wine as well and opening one of the bottles he poured us both a glass before announcing he was going to take a quick bath before we ate.

In his absence I busied myself finding plates and warming them, looking out cutlery and napkins, putting the chilled wine in a cooler and placing it on the table in the living room. I was nervous, no doubt about that, but at the same time I was sort of elated, excited. The thought of spending another night like the one previously aroused me and I realised I'd been looking forward to it all day, that I had stayed with this sole intent in mind.

When John came down from his bath he too was dressed only in a white towelling robe, his still well muscled legs bare from the knee down. For a moment we just looked at one another, then both grinned almost sheepishly. It was clear to me that he too was just as excited by the prospects of another night together and the knowledge of this only served to increase my own arousal.

With the food laid out before us we settled down to eat, chatting generally as we did so. It was like playing out a sham. We both knew where we were going, where we wanted to go, but for the moment we went through the motions of having a quiet and conventional evening in. I think this little pretence may have actually increased the excitement for both of us, I know it did for me. It just felt so deliciously wicked.

Finally we were done and I cleared away the uneaten food while John opened another bottle of wine and dimmed the lights in the living room, making it feel warm, inviting and deliciously intimate.

Settled once more on his couch before the fire we sat in companionable silence while I smoked my after dinner cigarette. It all felt very comfortable and normal, this only adding to the excitement of knowing that it wasn't and that soon we'd be indulging in truly wicked games, even if they were only in the mind.

And then there was that delicious moment of hesitation, almost unsureness, that touch of embarrassment, as I finally stubbed my ciggy out and he moved closer, bending over me, his face lowering to my own. My nipples went rock solid in moments as we kissed, my stomach turning molten as though it had been waiting for this very second all night long. In return I could feel his almost instant arousal, the way his body stiffened against my own, pressing almost demandingly against me as our tongues writhed together.

Finally we broke and I took a deep breath, body shuddering with undisguised pleasure. We kissed again, gently this time, taking our time and enjoying it, relaxing into it, accepting and unashamedly admitting our mutual arousal and understanding.

His hand moved to my breast and I found myself pushing them forwards in willing and easy invitation. We smiled knowingly as our lips parted, eyes darting eye to eye as we did so.

"Do you want to talk again Stella?" he asked quietly, lips still close to my own.

"Yes." I breathed without hesitation or shame, delighted we were to follow the same exciting path as we'd enjoyed so much the previous night.

"Good. It was wonderful last night, wasn't it." he whispered slowly, almost languorously, his words not a question but requesting affirmation.

"It was more than wonderful, much more ... much, much more." I sighed back, my words raising a knowing chuckle in his throat.

"Can I ask you one thing please, one serious question?" he asked, his voice level, eyes confirming his seriousness.

"Yes. Ask anything you want. I will reply honestly."

He cleared his throat. "Last night. All the things you said, the words you used and the confessions you made. Were any of them said simply to satisfy what you believed I desired from you?"

I thought for a moment, figuring out exactly what it was he was asking, accepting his question as serious to him, important. He was suffering doubt and simply wanted confirmation that I had been open and honest about things rather than pandering to what I might have believed he wanted to hear. I smiled up at him and stroked his neck gently.

"All the things I said, the words I used, they just came out of my head John, they just appeared. They've been in there a long time, a very long time, desperate to get out. Last night was the first time I've ever used them with another person. Last night was freedom. Last night was the real me, nothing faked, nothing contrived. Just me as I've always wanted to be. You were the catalyst, not the reason."

His face softened with warmth and relief, head nodding gently in understanding.

"Forgive me for wondering otherwise Stella, but I had to know."

We kissed again, long and deep but gentle and when finally we broke we smiled knowingly at one another. After taking a large slug of wine I settled back into his arm, my head against his chest and soon we were kissing and touching one another passionately. His hand went inside my robe, teasing each nipple in turn until they were hard little peaks electric with delight. My thighs were sliding against each other, my lower belly alight with desire and excitement and when I slid my own hand between the folds of his robe I was thrilled to find him already almost fully hard and waiting for me.

Our passion mounted until we had to break and take control once more and as I regained my breath, fingers still squeezing his now fully erect penis beneath the folds of his robe, he leant over me once more and asked if I wanted to go upstairs to the bedroom or continue where we were.

Again I was moved by his understanding and consideration. I did feel so much more confident in the darkness, it was like wearing a mask, hiding myself, giving a form of anonymity which allowed my mind and voice greater freedom. All very silly I realised but I was grateful he'd taken this into consideration and offered me the choice. Against that I wanted to see him, see him naked and erect, bold and jutting. Feeling and touching him in the dark was one thing but now I really wanted to see him in the flesh, and what's more I wanted him to see me, I wanted to expose myself to him, display and exhibit myself for his pleasure. I suddenly remembered I'd shaven myself and for a second was hit with momentary self consciousness, but just as quickly I realised that I'd shaven myself because I wanted him to look at me and see me like that. I wanted to be totally naked and exposed to him. I knew I wasn't a raving beauty and would never ever grace the cover of Vogue but at the same time I knew this man found me hugely attractive and what we shared mentally overcame any physical short comings I may have felt. This knowledge gave me confidence, more confidence than I think I'd ever felt before. Kissing him gently on the lips I whispered to him that yes, I would feel more abandoned in the darkness but that I wanted to see him in the light, that I wanted him to see me in the light, and then without even thinking about it I added that I wanted us to be able to look one another in the eye when we said the kind of things we'd said to one another the night before. As the words left my lips I felt a rush of arousal that almost overwhelmed me and realised I had spoken openly and truthfully without thinking it through.

His body moved against me and I felt his cock stiffen and grow thicker in my fingers. I stroked it gently to encourage him, to portray my enthusiasm, squeezing his hot column of flesh as though to lend strength to my words.

"God yes!" he breathed. "Total honesty, nothing hidden. That would be a huge turn on for me as well."

For long moments we kissed and I could feel his want and need and arousal, this only increasing my confidence, my desire to fulfil both our needs. His hand dropped to my thigh and began to stroke upwards, pushing the material of my robe before it. I used my free hand to gently take his wrist and halt his upward movement.

"Wait" I whispered, suddenly a touch nervous but at the same time desperately wanting to indulge us both, wondering if my approach might seem childish or silly to him, wondering if the sight of my recently shaven cunt would have the effect I anticipated, wanted it to have on him. "I've got a surprise for you but I want you to enjoy it fully, I want us to enjoy it fully. Take your time John. Don't touch me yet. I want you to open my robe and look at me first. Please?"

For a moment he hesitated, obviously confused by this sudden and unexpected change in tack, but then he nodded his acceptance and gently squeezed my thigh.

Releasing his wrist I lay back into the cushions and slowly spread my thighs apart on the couch, fingers gently stroking his cock in encouragement.

"Go on then, but take your time, enjoy it." I whispered, then turned my head to watch the movements of his hand.

Ever so gently he lifted his hand and raised it to the knotted sash of the gown at my waist. Taking a loose end he tugged it gently until the bow fell apart and he could slip a finger beneath the remaining knot and free it off completely before lifting each end and dropping them at my sides. Then he moved his hand upwards and gently parted the V of the gown at my neck, exposing each small breast in turn, fingers brushing gently over the erect little nipples with undisguised delight. I looked up at his face and saw the rapture in his eyes, the way they followed his fingers as they teased me, and my heart soared with excitement, my belly turning molten, my cunt opening with desire.

His hand moved downwards and I felt myself holding my breath in anticipation, every nerve alive and tingling as I watched his fingers do their wicked work. Gently and carefully he took one fold of the robe in his fingers and lifted it free from the other, letting it drop loosely at my side, exposing one thigh and half of my upper body. And then the other, flicking it so it too fell by my side leaving me naked and open to his gaze.

I watched his eyes move quickly to my cunt, opening wide with shock then slitting wickedly with delighted understanding. He gasped quietly and his cock went rigid in my fingers. Squeezing him tightly to let him know I recognised his excitement I allowed my thighs to fall loosely apart, exposing my hairless slit for his greedy gaze, revelling in my own actions and wanton behaviour.

"Oh Stella! Oh yes! God but that looks so good, so exciting." He breathed without looking at me, eyes still glued to the juncture of my thighs.

My heart soared with delight and I felt empowered, the confidence strong in me now, the last vestiges of any doubts and fears I'd harboured vanishing in a flash. All I had believed and hoped for was true, our minds in sync once more, our pleasures and excitements the same.

"Like a little girls?" I whispered up at him, delighting when his eyes slitted at my suggestion.

"Oh yes!" he breathed with obvious relish, "just like a little girls!" and then he took my chin in his fingers and we kissed long and deep and dirty, revelling once more in sexual abandon, sealing our bond, confirming our understanding and appreciation of one another.

My inhibitions vanished just as they had the night before and now, when finally we broke the kiss, I lay back confidently in the couch and slowly spreading my thighs wide as he watched me I slipped a finger to the top of my slit and began to tease my cit right in front of him, delighting in the way his eyes drank in my every movement.

He still hadn't touched me even though my own hand had been curled around his cock for several minutes, gently stroking, squeezing and encouraging him. Even now he made no effort to touch though I knew he must want to, he simply drank in my actions with his eyes, allowing me to state the play, to do things the way I wanted to do them, each of us savouring the moment, dragging it out.

For several minutes I simply lay there masturbating myself gently as he watched closely, my hand still on his concealed cock, teasing him in slow time to my own wanton frigging. It was as though both of us were savouring the moment, not wanting to rush things, realising this would be the only time it would all be new to us and wanting to prolong the excitement and stomach churning novelty of it all. I know I was hugely aroused and could have brought myself off again in moments had I simply speeded up the tempo or allowed vent to the thoughts and words that tumbled in my mind, but I didn't, I refrained, I gave us both the time to come to terms with this new intimacy.

Finally I could bear it no longer and releasing his cock I slid my hand from the folds of his robe and took his chin gently in my fingers. He looked down at me and I could read the pleasure, appreciation and excitement in his eyes. We smiled at one another in complete understanding and as he watched I licked my lips suggestively and slitted my eyes wickedly.

"I've shown you mine. Don't you think it's time you showed me yours?" I whispered teasingly.

John grinned down at me, then easing away leant back into the cushions at the same time turning to face me slightly and lifting his left thigh up onto the seat of the couch so he legs were now spread.

My eyes flicked from his face to his groin then back again, each of us smiling in anticipation, relishing our little game.

Slowly and carefully he took the folds of his robe in his hands and spread them wide so his erection was openly exposed to me for the first time ever.

It was delicious, it was wonderful, it was the most gorgeous, the most exciting, the most arousing and the most stimulating cock I had ever seen. It was all those things not because of size or shape or colour or texture, but simply because it belonged to him, to him and the way he exposed it for me.

My breath whistled from pursed lips as I drank in the sight of him. Probably pretty average in truth, nothing exceptional, threatening or frightening, just a deliciously arched column of rigid flesh, swollen and pulsing gently with each beat of his heart, the flesh flushed dark pink with excitement, bluish veins standing out where they encircled it, the helmet itself a wonderfully proud and distended dome of darker colour, it's single eye wide open and dark, a shining bead of viscous fluid pooling at its entrance.

My eyes were glued to it for several moments and John simply lay back leaving it open to my gaze, allowing me to drink it all in without obstruction.

"God but that's so hot." I finally breathed, eyes flicking to his face to see him smile with delight, my words thrilling him, flattering him.

"What do you like to see best Stella? Tell me and I'll do it for you. Anything you like."

I felt myself swallowing as though with hesitation. This was what I really wanted, total openness, the freedom to ask or do anything, but there was still that tiny moment of self consciousness before once more my arousal over came it and quashed it forever.

I looked him in the eye, seeing the warmth and understanding in his own, feeling my confidence and need return, my unbidden fingers increasing their tempo on my clit.

"It's the head I like to see most ... the helmet. That's always been my biggest turn on ... god knows why but that's always what's excited me most." I whispered.

He smiled as though in understanding, his face aroused but soft.

"Then watch this." He replied.

He was circumcised, circumcised quite beautifully, his helmet standing out so clear and proud from the narrow neck of his cock, like a mushroom on a thick stalk. As I watched he used the fingers of his left hand to pull down the flesh around the base of his cock so it stood out more, jutting from its hairy base with his large and heavily soft looking balls below. Raising his right hand to his mouth he spat into his palm then lowered it and smeared his saliva slowly and carefully around the head of his cock so that when he removed his hand it shone dull and wet in the glow from the fire.

My fingers beat faster, round and round and round, teasing and abusing my now hard little clit. I was close to cumming and wanted him to watch me do so, to enjoy my orgasm right in front of him, nothing hidden, no shame.

Lowering his right hand to the very base of his cock he curled his forefinger and thumb around it then tensed his stomach as though trying to force more blood into his already distended organ. Before my eyes it jutted further upright, the pulse in it strong now so it seemed to jerk to each beat of his heart, and then he gripped it tightly around the base, so tightly I could see his flesh being squeezed and compressed by his powerfully encircling fingers. His shaft expanded, the veins standing out like cords around its girth, and his already pronounced helmet flared and became even larger, standing out huge and dark and menacing from the pulsing shaft below.

My fingers went frantic in time with my brain and I could hear the wetness of them as they flashed back and forth against my overheated clit, my hips beginning to jerk demandingly, thrusting up and down from the couch as though in simulation of intercourse.

"Is that what you like to see Stella?" he asked slowly but clearly. "Is this what you like to look at? A nice big swollen cock head?"

"Yes!" I gasped, eyes slitting, lips parted, breath short and shallow. "Yes, that's what I like to look at, to think about, to imagine ..." hips jerking, orgasm so close now, so close.

"Then look at it Stella, drink it in, enjoy it! Let your imagination take you Stella, look at this lovely big cock head and just imagine ... just imagine it pushing into a little girls .... Hairless .... Vulnerable .... Defenceless .... Tiny ... Slit .... Just think about it Stella, imagine it opening up her little fuck hole, imagine it parting those plump little hairless lips, imagine ...."

His words and the images they created in my imagination were all too much and with a bucking heave I began to cum, the distant knowledge that I was doing so right in front of him, in the dim but adequate light of the living room, so close to him on the couch, making it feel so much more intimate, so much more open and revealing and declaring than just cumming off beneath him. My fingers flew with my imagination, my breath rasping from gritted teeth as my orgasm picked me up and hurled me back down once more-my fingers slowing, my breathing returning, my body shuddering in aftershock.