Night of Raunch and Fantasy

When she stumbled through his front door, which was left slightly ajar in expectation of this event, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was looking a bit wasted, but still seemed to know what was going on, and there was a strong look of longing in her eyes. He was sat on the stairs, waiting for her to make the advance towards him, which was harder than it sounds, as his penis was telling him to do the complete opposite.

She slowly moved towards him, stumbling once on her awkward stilettos. She bent over, ever so slow, and planted a lasting kiss on his lips. She pulled away, and the pair gazed into each others eyes for around 10 seconds. This was when it really started.

As if coming to some sort of sudden mental understanding, they both broke into a frenzy of passion. She ripped off her red polka dot blouse, stripping down to a black lacy bra, as he tore all the buttons off his brand new Fred Perry shirt, forgetting the £50 price tag in the moment of heated passion. Their mouths were sliding over each other sloppily, her scarlet lipstick smearing his cheeks, and tongues were flicking into and out of each others gaping mouths like raging flames. She pushed herself away from him and, leaning against the banister for support, wiggled her worn denim skirt round her ankles and threw it behind her dismissively.

She stepped back for him to get the full view. She was now stood in her lacy black bra, a tiny white thong with red and black spots and stiletto boots that rose up half way to her knees. She reached slowly behind her back and unclasped the bra, sliding the straps off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, revealing her exquisitely shaped breasts, with cute little red nipples. She again leaned forward, pushing her breasts towards him. By this time he had loosened his jeans, revealing the huge bulge in his boxers ever-growing as she seemed to grow in beauty. Seeing his massive erection, she moved her hands down his chest to the waistline of his boxers, sliding them slowly down over his dick. She advanced further still, and mounted his lap, shifting her thong to one side to allow entrance to her near bald cunt. Another quick shift and he was inside her.

This, this was the moment that he had longed for since the moment he laid eyes on her several weeks before in the backstreet venue. She started to grind her hips, and his cock was pushed in and out of her vagina much faster than he had at first expected. She was doing all the work, putting in all the energy. He was just sitting there, letting it happen. He decided to rectify this and moved his hands away from her tits, sliding them down into her knickers. He felt the slight bristle of her pubes, and was reminded of the texture of his face after a few days of no shaving. He felt the slight bulge of her clitoris and began rubbing it as fast as he could, desperate to give back some of the pleasure that she was giving to him.

They were still on the stairs, and he began to get uncomfortable, his back crushing against the hard oak stairs, but he didn't let this stop the intercourse, and found the discomfort strangely arousing. All of a sudden he felt a rushing towards his cock, and realised he was about to come, she apparently felt the same way, and began to moan, increasing in volume every second. He couldn't hold his ecstasy in any longer, and with one load groan he ejaculated, removing his hand from her knickers and grabbing with both hands at her breasts, leaving red marks. She screamed, coming almost exactly the same time as him, and their grinding soon came to a halt as they slumped in each others arms.

She looked up into his eyes, and gave him one last sloppy kiss, before getting up and stumbling over to the sofa, collapsing in exhaustion. He let his head drop against the wall, not bothering to put away his penis, gazing at the sleeping beauty slumped on his sofa. He decided that he would leave her for perhaps 20 minutes, then repeat the exercise again. His raunchy night was definitely not yet at a close.