Our First Time

There is a first time for everything.

As well as writing our own adventures, Andy and I like to read other people's stories on Literotica. For the inspiration to write this story I am indebted to janon314 and their most recent story "Plain Jane out of her comfort zone". I have read a number of their stories as the exhibitionist and voyeur stuff is so well written. This one though had so many similarities to how Andy and I first got together that we felt inspired to tell that story.

God where to start. Regular followers of our adventures will have me down as confident, sexually adventurous and an exhibitionist. This was not always the case. When I first met Andy, I had recently just taken on my first management role in the company. He was brought in as an interim Assistant Director of a different team in the department for a 12 month period and I developed a crush very quickly... he was just my type physically and from the way he talked about things, I knew we shared a common sense of humour and outlook on life. Seeing him around the building always brightened my day, and I will admit that I often engineered it so I would bump into him.

At this point, I had left university only a couple of years before, was living with my boyfriend and was almost painfully shy, though I had learnt to overcome that in work situations where I was confident in my abilities. After his team had inadvertently caused a pile of problems for my team, I hauled him into my office where, despite him being more senior in the business and around 10 years older than me, I proceeded to berate him and explain carefully what he had done wrong and how he needed to help us in the future.

It was a warm day, and I was just in a vest top and jeans, he was in a shirt and a tie but had rolled his sleeves up neatly. I have a thing about this as a look... capable, in control and ready for anything, so my pussy was traitorously open and moist whilst I was trying to keep a straight face and tell him off. I had a tiny office, and we were standing quite close. He listened carefully and asked a couple of questions before apologising. He promised to bring others of his team in for me to brief and smiled warmly at me before he left. I could feel my face flush and knew that the flush would have covered half my exposed cleavage, hopefully after he had left. I fanned myself alone in the office, trying to get back to an even keel, my mind replaying him standing there with his sleeves rolled up and his smile....

As good as his word, he brought his team down to meet me and brought new members whenever they started. Each time this had the same effect on me, my pussy lips would swell slightly and moisten, and my nipples would harden. I knew by this time that he was married, and he never appeared to notice my heightened level of excitement. Maybe I was succeeding better than I thought at keeping a straight face (he told me years later that I had a dark fierce look that suitably terrified his staff -- certainly, they rarely screwed up again).

Whilst I was shy and only with my second boyfriend, I was not sexually unaware and had long ago worked out how to make myself cum very enjoyably. On a couple of occasions, I had to take a walk to the Ladies and bring myself to orgasm, just so that my mind could focus on work.

And then one day he left, his interim work had come to an end. Naturally, as he didn't realise that we had the level of intimate relationship that was in my head, he didn't call in to say goodbye. I was desperately disappointed and frustrated in myself for not being brave enough to talk to him socially. Work was back to its usual level of dreariness, and whilst there were visitations from other senior managers, some of whom even managed to talk to my face and not my tits, none of them did it for me.

Three years later, I had moved into a more senior role in the company and was happy enough but still thought wistfully about him and how our interactions had brightened the working day. There was something about Andy, something stronger than any other crushes I'd had, and it hadn't been just physical, I was drawn to him on all levels.

One day, I stomped into the office for a meeting... and there he was again. I nearly squealed with excitement. Turns out he'd joined the company again as an assistant director, this time on a permanent basis.

Now I got to see him regularly at meetings and on occasion we ran particular projects together. Work was suddenly much brighter and previously dull meetings became interesting because I could sit and sneak admiring glances at him. I spent those meetings in a slightly heightened level of sexual arousal, even though there were others in the room which caused some dampening of this feeling.

So, you would expect of course that I would have told him all this and dragged him brazenly off to a stationary cupboard somewhere for a snog at least or a fuck at best -- absolutely not. I continued to stew in my own juices, literally sometimes. After about the tenth meeting where I had practically forgotten my own name because I was so tongue tied and distracted, I gave myself a stern talking to and decided exposure therapy was the answer... if I could pluck up the courage to talk to him then at least we could maybe be friends and I might actually be able to function as a normal human being in his presence.

It was a very good strategy. Not only did I look less of an idiot in meetings, but it also turned out my suspicions were right and we had lots in common- we loved the same kind of music and books and we shared the same sense of humour when dealing with the challenges of work.

It was good to have a work buddy (a very attractive one), and I felt immensely grateful for that even if it couldn't be anything more. He never really talked about his wife; but he was married, I should behave. As for me, my relationship was fine; not amazing, but not something to throw away. I would go home to my partner most nights, my heart light, and my pussy prickly if I had spent time with Andy, to listen to him rant about his day whilst I cooked his dinner and watched what he wanted on TV.

As our friendship developed, we began to open up a little more to each other and I just felt that I could tell him anything with no judgement, and from our conversations I figured he felt the same. We talked about the relationships we were in, but I still didn't tell him how I felt; I had now reached the point where I worried that if I told him, it would ruin the close friendship which was increasingly important to me and my sanity.

So, despite regularly getting to the point that if he had ordered me to stand up, peel down my sticky knickers and bend over the meeting table I would have done it in a heartbeat, I said nothing.

And then came the annual Corporate Event. I guess every organisation has them, where the senior members of each team are taken away to a hotel for a couple of days and nights and the strategic direction of the company is debated, mixed in with bonding exercises.

Normally this only involved the very senior team, but this year they realised they had some spaces free at the last minute, so feeling benevolent they extended the invite to the next level of managers. Fuck -- I hated this sort of event, full of pompous self-aggrandisement from people I would normally do everything possible to avoid. It brought all the shy and low self-esteem parts of my personality out. I tried hard to find a way out of it but was told that it was "good for my development" to get some exposure to the executive. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

On the day, I set off in a foul mood having carefully packed my bags for a couple of days and nights. Arriving at the venue I stomped in trying unsuccessfully to remove the petulant scowl from my face. As I reached the space being used for arrival coffees and cakes I faced my worst nightmare -- 50-60 people networking like bastards. My personal hell. Luckily as I skirted the crowd, I spotted Andy hovering quietly alone at an outer edge. My mood lightening, I made a beeline to him. I felt an overwhelming urge to cling to him and weep with relief, in my foul mood I had quite forgotten he would be here, but I managed to briefly hug him and kiss him on the cheek. He looked at me bemused; this was not how we greeted each other. Then he returned to surveying the crowd.

"Jesus Christ, I hate these fucking events," he muttered, "waste of fucking time, as if the bastards even listen to us. Look at them, I fucking hate networking."

My heart lightened; now that we knew each other well, I knew he had a healthy and regular use of invective, but I had not heard him swear quite so consistently at one thing before. Clearly, we felt the same about this event. We could at least make it tolerable for each other.

"I clearly missed the memo on the fucking dress code," I muttered. Everyone one else was in casual dress and jeans; Andy had on a grandad shirt and jeans and had his sleeves rolled up already. I had on a work dress, with a tight bodice and a skirt that was not too short and flared slightly from the hips. I had hold up stocking rather than tights and knickers which were already beginning to steam at his appearance.

He grinned and said, "you always look pretty hot to me." Which whilst it was slightly rote caused a definite flutter

"At least they feed you at every available opportunity and the booze is relatively free flowing tonight," he said with a wry smile. "Come on, I checked the workshop tables, and we are together most of today, let's go and grab seats."

We went through to conference room and sat together and both of us got our laptops out to quietly check what was happening at work.

"Look at this," he said, and turned his screen to show me something, which allowed me to lean closer to him.

"Yeah, fuckers," I said, "I have already sorted it." And I turned my screen his way to show him an email I had already sent.

As he leant my way, his leg touched mine and I felt a charge run through my leg straight to my pussy. Noticing me stiffen very slightly, he apologised and moved his leg away from mine. Dear God, I was thinking, just run your hand up my thigh and stroke me, I am yours. And my thighs parted as I thought it. Clearly, he didn't notice, and I said nothing. But this was going to be a long couple of days of behaving as if everything was normal.

The day was better than anticipated, partly through sitting next to Andy, but the topics discussed were interesting and I bizarrely found myself enjoying it. Lunch was good and rather than talking to others, we had a walk in the sunshine before returning to the afternoon session. This was just fabulous in its own quiet way, I don't think we had just walked and talked like a normal couple, and it just felt right. I was melting and desperately wanted to kiss him or worse, drag him behind a bush for a grope and a snog. Before the next session started, I took myself to the Ladies and sat in a stall to sort things through in my head. He is my best friend, he is married, and he has shown no sign that he wants more, I thought, I am going to have to tell him how I feel sometime, but what if that ruins everything? I resolved to behave myself.

The afternoon passed in a warm companionable way. Twice he touched me to attract my attention, once on the arm and once on the thigh. The skirt had risen up my thigh with being seated and was dangerously close to my stocking tops. He was looking the other way and had reached towards me before squeezing my thigh. I again felt a jolt straight through to my pussy and he, realising what he had grabbed, blushed, and apologised profusely. He whipped his hand away, if he had left it there any longer, he would have felt the heat from my pussy which was about two inches away. I breezily told him not to worry, we knew each other well enough for that, whilst screaming for more inside.

At the end of the session, we had about an hour and a half before dinner, so bags were collected from cars, and we checked into our rooms. Andy explained that people would dress more formally for dinner, but I was fine as I was - which is good really as I had brought several dresses, but they were all similar in style.

In my room, I peeled my dress off then stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bra, knickers, and stockings. My pussy was sticky and prickly but behaving itself for the moment which was good as I had only brought enough pairs for the couple of days we were here and was going to run out very quickly if I had to keep changing them. I looked myself in the eye in the mirror and repeated "he is my best friend; he is my best friend...."

I then looked at the range of dresses available to me. As these were work wear, there was no cleavage on show, but the skirts were agreeably short. I have good legs and no problems with showing them. I did, however, realise that the phrase "people would dress more formally for dinner" would mean that some of the women would be in their finery with cleavage and legs on show and I hadn't come prepared for that.

In the end, on the basis that I wasn't trying to attract anyone, even the person I would love to attract who seemed to be oblivious to my charms, but that I needed to compete, I decided to go braless. My boobs were largish but firm, they would stand up for themselves for the evening and would move delightfully under the dress.

We had agreed to meet in the bar 20 minutes before dinner and I arrived just after Andy. He was in a jacket and tie and looked entirely edible. He ordered me a drink, and then as we talked was clearly trying not to look at my boobs. The bodice was tight, and I realised my nipples were standing out happily. I had another rush of moisture to the pussy and slammed my drink far too quickly. We went through to dinner and found we were on the same table but opposite each other. "Probably best," I thought glumly.

The meal was challenging; the food was good, but I was sat between two people who knew each other and were alternately talking work and flirting across me, without ever engaging with me. Andy, on the other hand, had someone who was determinedly bending his ear about something probably work related. We made eye contact on several occasions and shared an eyeroll.

At other times, I caught him openly staring at my tits whilst he was talking to the other guy. We both drank far too much of the free wine and I barely survived the mercifully short speeches. As dinner drew to a close, people began to move through to the bar; the couple either side of me had perhaps gone to find a room, I didn't care by that point. I stood, swayed slightly, and realised I was pissed. I glanced at Andy hoping he was about to stand as well and realised he was still trapped. He took a large swig of wine and rolled his eyes at me again.

"Fuck," I thought, "if I stay here, I am going to say something to him," So I blew him a kiss and wended my way out of the restaurant and headed up to bed. I glanced once over my shoulder, to see if by any chance he was following me, to see he was stuck where he was but watching me as I left, with a strange, possibly drunken, intensity. In my room I stripped off my dress again, and knickers and stockings, and stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Naughty nipples," I thought drunkenly, "giving away my lust." And I tweaked and stretched them both, before caressing both boobs. I crawled into bed naked, too drunk and tired to find my usual pyjamas. It felt decadent to be naked under crisp sheets, even if I was alone. I ran my hands down my body, caressing and stroking my boobs, before moving down to my pussy. I spread my thighs wide and opened my pussy lips with the fingers on one hand. With the other, I ran a finger through the now parted lips marvelling at how wet and swollen they were. I circled my clit with a sticky finger, slipping it over and under the swollen hood in a practiced way. The first orgasm was remarkably quick and intense. As the body relaxed from its spasm, I closed my eyes and dipped one, then two fingers into my pussy, wishing it was Andy or that I had at least thought to bring a toy with me. I began to rhythmically pump two then three fingers into my pussy, whilst returning to my clit with the other hand. Five minutes of this, my hips beginning to flex on and off the bed, my pussy and fingers soaked in juices, I came -- this time it rolled on and on for a while. As I licked my fingers clean, I realised that I had been thinking about Andy and the look on his face as he stared at my tits all the time I had masturbated.

"I am going to have to deal with this somehow," was my last coherent thought before I turned out the light and crashed out.

The next morning, I awoke to an initial disorientation; I was naked in a strange bed, my pussy lips felt swollen and something unspeakable had happened to my tongue, which was coated in fur. It slowly came back to me and when I rolled over, my head pounded gently. Groaning, I remembered spending most of the day lusting after and telling myself off about my feelings for Andy and then drinking far too much. I crawled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. After a long drink of water to wash down two paracetamol, a longer shower where all parts of me were thoroughly cleaned and brushing my teeth and tongue, I was feeling human. I washed, dried, and straightened my hair, which always makes me feel ready for the day.

I took the opportunity to stand and look at myself in the full-length mirror again and considered what I would do. This clearly couldn't carry on like this. He was my best friend, I clearly had feelings for him, and I would have to find a way to tell him, regardless of the possible outcomes. It was the only way forward.

"You can do it," I said to my naked self, noting that just thinking about him had caused my nipples to erect, "you have to find a way."

I decided that eggs and bacon would be my saviour and quickly dressed, rolling on stockings again and pulling on my knickers. I decided that a bra was needed if I was supposed to be businesslike and perhaps better if I was going to focus on feelings and not just lust. Lastly, I pulled on the third of my dwindling stock of dresses, noticing critically that the skirt was if anything, slightly shorter than the others and headed down for breakfast.

Andy was there already, looking very much the worse for wear. He groaned as I sat down and smiled weakly at me. He confessed that after I had left last night, he had disconsolately decided to have a nightcap and had rather more than one. During our conversation I noted him looking hopefully at my chest and hiding a slightly disappointed look that it was all safely covered. Looking at the state of him, I decided now was not the time to discuss our relationship, so settled for a general conversation about the day and the agenda. Duly loaded with breakfast, and in Andy's case, caffeine -- we made our way through and sat again in our seats in the main conference hall. It was sparsely populated and several people looked worse than Andy.

He did lean across and whisper in my ear, "After inappropriately grabbing your thigh yesterday, please feel free to grab mine." This was accompanied by a smile and a wink.

"Like this," I said and rested my hand lightly just above the knee.

"Yeah, that's ok," he started to say, but cut off with a strangulated "g'naah," as I smiled sweetly at him and then ran my hand right to the top of his thigh, stopping short of his groin.

"It was really no problem to me," I said with a grin, "feel free to do it again."

Looking me in the eye, as if this was a bet or challenge, He put his hand on my knee and then did what I had done, running his hand to the top of my thigh. I don't think he had realised I was in stockings and there was another surprised grunt as his fingers touched bare skin at the top of my thigh, and he withdrew his hand as if stung. I continued to look at him and smirked at his look of confusion and surprise. Inwardly I too had groaned as he touched me, relatively intimately for the first time and my pussy did its usual swelling and moistening. We then both grinned at each other and I could see him considering what to try next when others joined us at the table.

The morning was much as the first day and I again found it more interesting than expected, even joining in on a couple of the workshop debates. At lunch we again, took a walk around the gardens. We talked with easy familiarity, and he asked me whether I regularly wore stockings, and I confirmed that it was most of the time as I don't like tights. He confessed that in line with most men he found them very attractive, and I confirmed that I liked open neck shirts and rolled up sleeves -- exactly what he was wearing again. He looked perplexed but raised an arm and lightly stroked his bare forearm with the other hand, then laughed gently at me. It had the usual effect, and I was now decidedly sticky. I began to build myself up to have a conversation but, too many years of shyness and a lack of time before the afternoon agenda, caused me to stay silent, inwardly cursing myself.

The afternoon session was team activities. We had been assigned to a group doing carpet bowls. The other 6 were very enthusiastic and stayed around the mat you bowled from or galloped after the bowls to see where they ended up at the other end. Andy and I, as usual, hovered near the rear of the group. We had split into two teams and were bowling 4 bowls one on one against a player from the other team. When it was my turn, my serious competitive side kicked in and I stepped up and bent forward to pick up my first bowl. I then took one step so that my front foot landed on the mat and bent forward to roll the bowl smoothly along the ground. I remained bent forward, one foot in front of the other watching the bowl as it nicely headed towards the jack, stopping short.

I went back to Andy, to discuss tactics for placing the next bowl and realised that he had a huge grin on his face.

"OK smart ass, what did I do wrong," I demanded, hands on hips.

"The bowling action was fabulous," he said, "but as your best friend I feel I should tell you that skirt showed me your stocking tops and most of your knickers as you bowled. Looked good from here!"

I swatted him mock angrily but looked around at the others carefully.

"Don't worry," he said, "The others were all in front of you, just a private show for me." He grinned disarmingly.

It was my turn to bowl again, and checking out where the others were stood, I thought, if he wants a private show...

This time I bent slightly more exaggeratedly to pick the bowl up, bending from the waist with straight legs. As I went to bowl, I bent forward again to release the bowl and having let go, I gave my hips a wiggle. I then remained bent forward, but put both hands on my hips, pulling my skirt slightly higher.

I walked back to him with a nonchalant swagger; he had a huge smile on his face and his eyes flashed at me.

"Enjoy, the show, perv." I said with a smile to take the sting out of it.

"Oh yes," he said, totally without guilt, "I am getting a chair for a better angle for the next one."

Whilst he grabbed a chair, I hitched my knickers up tighter into my ass, knowing I was baring a good amount of ass cheek.

Checking again that there was only him behind me, and that he was sat ready, I repeated my previous actions up to and including putting my hands on my hips to pull the skirt slightly further up. This time as I walked back, he had the same grin but was slightly flushed and had casually crossed his legs.

"Was that a good enough private show for you?" I smiled sweetly. He nodded vigorous affirmative and looked hopeful and slightly guilty.

For my last bowl, I checked my knickers were good and tight and that there was still no one but Andy watching. This time, having released the bowl, I remained leant forward, but stepped my other foot forward so my feet were slightly more than hip with apart. With my hands on my hips, I pulled my skirt right up exposing all my knicker clad ass for him. If he looked carefully, he would have seen the material of my knickers stretched tightly across my very swollen pussy lips.

I walked back towards him, where he sat now looking very flushed. As I got there, I turned and bending forward just in front of him, I gently tugged my knickers out of my ass to carefully cover my cheeks again. I then turned to face him and tried to look innocent.

"What do you think about my bowling technique?" I asked him sweetly.

"Fabulous," he grunted, then grinned at me, "For a quiet girl you can be quite a tart, can't you?"

"Only for the right audience," I replied and blew him a kiss. I then ran my hand along his thigh as I had done in the morning. He sat upright as I did this, but it was my turn to get a shock as I hit something swollen far earlier than I thought I would. I let go and stepped back slightly shocked, and he just grinned at my discomfiture.

"It is the reaction hot girls who flash their knickers deserve," he said smiling again.

I blushed furiously, muttered something in reply and turned back to check out how we had scored. I was thankfully interrupted by the congratulations of my team as somewhere in the midst of that I had managed two of the nearest bowls, winning the end.

Once Andy was comfortable enough to stand up (still with a very agreeable swelling, I looked) the rest of the afternoon passed without incident. We continued to banter as friends and avoided obvious flirting. At the end it was time to go and dress for dinner and we agreed to meet in the bar.

In my room I found myself again stood in front of the mirror in my underwear. This time I also pulled my knickers up tight and bent forward to see what kind of show I had put on for Andy. It was slightly ruder and hotter than I had intended, with my pussy lips clearly outlined by the tight knickers. Ah well, I had wanted to give him a show, it wasn't my fault now was it. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered how I had been able to do something like that -- something I hasten to add I have never done before -- yet couldn't confess my feeling. Tonight, I had to find a way.

I picked up my remaining dress. It was a noticeably lighter material than the others, although the skirt was a little longer. I decided to go braless again and removed it, giving my nipples a stroke. I then slipped the dress on. The top was tight and of thinner material than last night, so my nipples stood out proudly. I squeezed my tits together through the thin material and buffed both nipples. Then with a smile set out for the bar.

We met and sat quietly to one side of the bar, away from others. Andy got me a very large gin, which I took a slug from for courage. We chatted generally and I noticed him look at my tits and smile quietly. With a grin I ran my hand lightly up his thigh again.

"A little roomier than earlier," I commented with a smile.

He grinned back. "And how are your knickers fitting now?" he asked, "I see the skirt is a little longer."

"Did you notice that before you fixed on my tits or since?" I asked with a grin.

"Oh before," he said, not missing a beat, "but there are too many good things to look at and think about."

I acknowledged his compliment with a smile, and we moved back to conversationally safer ground. However, I had an idea of how to raise the stakes again.

Five minutes before we were due to go for dinner, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I carefully removed my knickers and then walked back to Andy, carrying them wadded up in my hand.

When I returned, I stood in front of him where he was sat. Handing him the knickers I said, "Seeing as how you were admiring these earlier, perhaps you would like to look after them for me during dinner."

He looked confused and slightly shocked, but he would be able to feel the heat still coming off them (and the moisture if he really checked them out), so he knew they were freshly removed. To avoid doubt though, I said, "shall we go through," and turned away from him. With one hand I ran my fingers up the back of one thigh and lifted the skirt quickly to expose just one naked cheek, a little like the famous poster of the tennis girl. He stood up smartly, stuffing the knickers into a trouser pocket and we joined the crowd heading through to dinner before he could say anything.

We were on the same table again, opposite each other. This time he politely cut off the guy next to him and sat looking at me, his eyes slowly moving to my tits and back to eye contact, an expression of curiosity and bemusement. He carefully sipped his wine, and I did the same. At one point, he removed his jacket hanging it over the back of his seat, then he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, watching me as he did so with a smile. For my part I arched my back slightly, thrusting my tits at him and smiled back. When dinner finished, he was round the table like a shot and helped to pull my chair back and let me up. He seemed uncharacteristically serious, as he gently took my elbow and headed towards the garden instead of the bar.

As we walked in the dark, he said quietly, "I am useless at picking up hints, so I need to ask, have we just been having some flirty fun with each other, or...."

Turning to face him, I put one finger to his lips to shush him, then hugged him close so that I could talk to him without seeing his face. He put his arms around me.

I whispered, "You are my very best friend, and I love you dearly for that and if all we ever had was flirty banter but stayed friends, that would be enough. However, I have had a major crush on you since I first met you and I need to know if we could be something more."

I was shivering in his arms with suppressed emotion and fear that he would reject me, but I managed to lift my head and, standing on tip toes I kissed him lightly on the lips. I then dropped my face and clung to him.

He was quiet for a few moments, almost too long, before he tipped my face up and kissed me on the lips again. This lime for longer and with passion.

Then he whispered back, "I too used to quietly watch you, and I found you incredibly attractive. I value our friendship, but...." At this my heart stopped briefly and I found myself holding my breath, "... I think we are strong enough to see what we have without losing that friendship whatever happens."

I lifted my face again, tears starting in my eyes, and he bent his head and kissed me again, this time, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I pulled my body tight to his and kissed him back. I felt his hands stroke down my body before lifting my skirt and I felt both his hands gripping and kneading my naked ass cheeks. I kissed him harder and ground my body against his hands and his body alternately, feeling an impressive swelling.

Breaking off the kiss, I said, "I think we need to take this somewhere private before we try to overthink it, and before this," and I squeezed his cock through his trousers, "becomes too obscene for public consumption."

We stepped apart and I saw him adjust himself in his trousers and I checked my dress. I then felt him tenderly dabbing at my tears with ... was that a handkerchief? No, it was my knickers. At this we both laughed diffusing the tension. Then trying to look innocent we walked back into the hotel, avoiding the bar area and headed up to my room.

Once we were in the room, I pulled him into a more passionate kiss, my hands roaming his body whilst I felt his on my ass again and brushing my tits. Breaking away, I stepped back then pulled my dress over my head, tossing it onto a nearby chair. I stood in front of him in just stockings and a nervous smile. I saw his eyes range down my body and knew he would be seeing, full but firm tits with hard nipples and areolae which were just a little larger than the swollen nipple, a flat stomach and hips that flared out to long and well-shaped legs.

Between my thighs was a neatly trimmed dark bush through which I knew my swollen inner lips would be showing. I saw him take all this in with obvious approval and lust before he pulled me back into an embrace. As I kissed him it felt completely decadent but right to be naked in his arms whilst he was fully dressed. His hands roamed further, stroking my hard nipples gently; I was too close to him for him to reach my pussy and I also felt a slight reticence as if he needed permission.

Stepping back again I endeavoured to undress him. After several attempts to unknot his tie, he gently took my hand away and did it himself along with the top two buttons of his shirt. Then I carried on, undoing the buttons slowly before pushing the shirt off his shoulders. He shook it off and dropped it behind him. He then stopped me again and quickly removed his shoes and socks before undoing his suit trousers. I crouched in front of him, my thighs splayed wide apart and my pussy open, if he could but have seen it. I gently pulled down the zipper and then tugged his trousers down to his ankles, helping him step out of them. That left my face on a level with his jersey and Lycra trucks which were not hiding anything of the impressive bulge within. I gently tugged the waistband out past the bulbous head of his cock then peeled them slowly down, revealing more and more of his hard cock.

It was everything I had hoped for and frankly a lot more. I looked at it with an element of awe. It was bigger than any cock I had met before, both in length and girth, with a large bulbous uncircumcised head, the foreskin already peeled back from the tip and coated in precum. I looked at it in detail before grasping the base of it as best I could with one hand and feeding as much as I could into my mouth.

I glanced to my right where I realised that we had ended up next to my friend the mirror. Now instead of a confused girl in her underwear, there was a hot naked couple, the girl crouched sluttishly with her legs apart and a cock in her mouth. I like cocks and I like blow jobs, but the amount of cock filling my mouth and the amount not in there yet made me quite lightheaded. I knew I would have to come back to this but for now I needed that cock in me. I took my mouth of it and wanked it a couple of times, looking at the head glistening again as pre cum oozed out. I licked all around the head, savouring the taste, before standing and bouncing back onto the bed, spreading my thighs wide.

"Come here, lover boy, I need that beast in me," I growled.

He knelt on the bed and started with a long deep kiss, before working his way down to my tits, where he sucked and nibbled at my tender nipples sending sparks shooting direct to my clit.

I wriggled desperately and excitedly, but he wouldn't be hurried, and he kissed at nipped at my body working his way down to my parted thighs. There, he gently spread them even wider and gazed at my now open and swollen pussy. He then dipped his head and began to lick all around and over my clit, sucking my lips into his mouth before returning to the clit. This was unexpected and heavenly, I had boyfriends perform oral sex on me previously, but it could be perfunctory. Andy clearly liked pussy and knew what he was doing. I closed my eyes and pushed my hips up into his face, savouring every moment as I felt my orgasm build urgently. After several years and two days of anticipation, that first orgasm was quick and intense; my back arched and my pussy spasmed.

"D-d-don't stop," I groaned.

Thankfully, he clearly had no intention of doing so. He kept licking and sucking as I crested and then started coming down. As I moaned slowly, he knelt up and I thought here comes that cock, but he wasn't finished. He crawled around the bed before settling into a 69 position, his cock now massively hard and dripping right in front of my face. He pulled my legs back along my body, tucking them under his armpits and opening me right up then the dipped his head and returned to my pussy.

I gamely took as much of his cock in my mouth again and enjoyed the intimacy of seeing his tightened scrotum and puckered asshole in close up. He returned to licking around my clit and slipped two fingers into my pussy. I almost wept as I felt him invade me, my god my pussy needed filling. Instead of just pumping his fingers in and out of me I felt him explore my open cunt, feeling the front wall until.... Oh god he found my G spot. I have found it myself previously with vibrators, but to have my lover find it that quickly. Man, he knew what he was doing.

I groaned as he licked my clit and circled my g spot with his thick fingers, the sensation was incredible, and I felt quite lightheaded. The orgasm grew surprisingly quickly after the intensity of the first one, and suddenly I was cumming, my cunt gripping his fingers whilst he continued licking my clit over and under the hood. It was intense, I had taken his cock out of my mouth in case I bit it, and I moaned again as my whole being pulsed and spasmed.

As I started to come down, I sensed he was going to continue.

"No, no," I said weakly, "I need that cock now."

He crawled around on the bed and then positioned himself with the head touching my open cunt lips. His face was smeared with my juices, and he grinned at me.

"You are so hot, I didn't think I would last long," he whispered, "So I wanted to ensure you were satisfied."

"Oh god I am," I said, "that was incredible, but now I need a really hard fuck, don't worry about me cumming again, I just enjoy a powerful fuck."

He put his hands on my hips with my legs either side of his arms so that I was wide open, then watched intently as he slowly eased his cock into me. I could tell he was enjoying the sight, and it was working for me. I knew my cunt was dripping with moisture and very open, but I still felt the head of his cock push its way through my lips and into me, and I felt it enter all the way. I felt ridiculously full. He then slowly pulled it all the way back, and then in again. I could tell he was enjoying this, and he was watching it each time -- there was more than a bit of voyeur in him -- but a girl asked for a fucking.

"Enough," I groaned, "Fuck me hard."

He lifted his head up so that we could make eye contact and then he started stroking, harder and harder until his cock was slamming into me, his balls slapping on my ass. He could see him bite his lip, trying to prolong this but I began to lift my hips to meet his strokes, and he groaned. And then I felt his cock swell even more and he speeded up before cumming hard deep into me. The cock swell had been impressive, but the spurts of cum that were hitting the inside of my cunt were incredibly powerful and I felt everyone.

He looked shattered, but he let go of my hips, letting my legs straighten out but left his cock in me. He then leant down and holding my head he kissed me tenderly.

"Was that alright?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him and pulled him down for another kiss. He smiled then slowly withdrew his softening cock and rolled down next to me on his back. He looked spent and frankly so was I.

I raised myself up on one elbow, to look at him, this beautiful man, my forbidden crush had just given me the fuck of my life. Now, I intended to roll elegantly astride him and give him a long kiss. However, I am and always was a klutz. My excuse is that I was shaking from the best fuck ever, but I slipped, and one knee went between his legs and hit him in the balls.

"Oh, dear god," he yelped. Then grinned, "do you do that to all your lovers, or am I special?"

I arranged myself more carefully, then bent down and gave him a long kiss.

"That was the fuck of my life to date, you are stunning and all I ever dreamt of." I said, "I am so sorry about that final part."

He pulled me down for a hug and I knew we would be fine. After I had been to the bathroom and dealt with the quantity of spunk he had put into me, and we had both cleaned up (including picking up and folding his clothes, what a man), we curled up under the duvet for the first time. After a few minutes, I felt his breathing slow, and although I was probably too excited to have him with me to sleep, I turned off the light and held him close. This was the second night naked in a strange bed with a swollen pussy, but this time I had what I wanted with me.

In the morning, we would have to talk about what this meant going forward, after I had persuaded him to fuck me again, but that was for another day.