The Joy Of Text

"Yes! Come on big boy give it to me now – oh my god that feels so good."

He pumped harder. Panting, sweat pouring off his body, back arched. He roared triumphantly – his face twisted in ecstasy. Her own slender back raised to meet his final thrust - he was spent.

"That was fantastic, I'm going to miss you tonight," she groaned. "I can't wait for you to get back."

He rolled off her, scurrying into the en-suite bathroom. She remained on the bed lying in a cold pool of his cum, listening to him showering. Of course she had faked her orgasm, she always did – with him. He dressed quickly, took the stairs two at a time and was in his car and on the way to the airport before she had run her bath, his bags had been packed the night before – she had made sure of that. Now she could relax, he was away on business for three days. Time for her to have some fun – but first she had to finish herself off.

The hot soapy water lapped her thighs as she expertly fingered herself to a shattering climax –she groaned, feeling an electric tingle shudder throughout the whole of her body - God he's gonna fucking get it later on. She slid down into the bubbles- content for the time being.

Jean Spencer hated her husband – well, his selfish attitude to their sexual relationship – his money she could just about handle. There was no doubt that she was the trophy wife, the gorgeous adornment on the arm of a successful businessman, something to be tossed away if the whim took him. She had learnt quickly how to please him, he was her VIP ticket to the show – but she needed more. The fifteen year age gap, a flagging libido and his religious pursuit of money meant she had a lot of time on her hands, time enough in fact to frequent the trendier bars in town – looking for firm young meat.

It was the same every time, she would receive a text message informing her of the meting place – normally a hotel – tonight it was different.

TAKE OFF YOUR PANTIES.

She flushed – looked around furtively, as if everyone in the bar had seen the message - waiting for her to react. The phone beeped into life again.

I'M WATCHING YOU.

Her eyes darted round the room; he was nowhere to be seen. There were plenty of couples in the bar but no sign of him; only a woman, about five years younger than her, sat opposite, reading a magazine.

Where the hell was he?

She knew he was kinky. Last time he'd insisted they made love on a hotel balcony overlooking the coast, she was sure they were being watched. Then there was the time he'd fingered her to orgasm in a hotel elevator, that time they had been caught out – that look on the old woman's face was a picture.

What the fuck is he up to now?

LEAVE THEM IN THE LADIES ROOM.

Another quick look around the room revealed no further clues as to his whereabouts – the young woman had left though.

She lifted the hem of her thin summer dress and tugged at her white sheer G-string. She imagined how she would have teased him later on –now it was he tugging at her heartstrings; she was on an emotional roller coaster, loving every minute of it. The underwear was thrown on the floor, there was a cough from the other stall – she rushed out of the room – the hotel location was being transmitted to her mobile. Christ I feel horny.

She breezed into the hotel lobby - confident and carefree. She was becoming an expert at this charade; the receptionist didn't even give her a second look.

The elevator carried her up to the seventh floor, enough time for her to wipe away the damp, sticky juices that were now seeping from deep inside her. He was there when the sliding doors opened, "I hope you got all of my messages," he purred.

"You know I always obey your every command," she answered with a cheeky smile on her face, "is there any other task you wish me to perform?"

He took her gently round the waist and kissed her full on the lips, one hand slowly cradling her neck, the other delicately feeling through the thin material of her dress. "You have been a good girl, I think its time for your reward."

The room was just yards away, the door was open – it was a suite.

The very first time they made love was in a motel, not a seedy one but just far enough out of town for her not to be recognised by anyone. Her husband was away for the night; she had just about given up meeting anyone in the new wine bar when he tapped her on the shoulder. "How long have you been unfaithful to your husband?" he asked. She blushed, "I don't know what you're talking about, and anyway what the hell has it got to do with you." "Oh nothing really," he laughed, "but if you haven't been unfaithful yet, how about breaking that duck tonight?" She stepped back in mock disbelief; this was the opportunity she had been waiting for all night, however she wasn't giving in that easy. "You're a bit full of yourself, what's your name then?" she enquired. "Steve Goodwin at your service." came the chivalrous reply, "A scholar, a gentleman and probably the best fuck you're going to get tonight."

She was impressed. He had figured her out straight away, was up for it, and at five foot eleven with gorgeous white teeth, long wavy black hair and a fit body, he was right – he was the best fuck she was going to get that night. "By the way I'm Jean." "I know."

The sex that first night was amazing. He didn't thrust her head straight to his groin, he didn't paw roughly at her breasts and he brought her off to a shattering climax with his tongue before he even thought of pleasuring himself: sexually he was the opposite of her husband. In fact the unbelievable sensations she felt during that session, (which seemed to go on all night), left her a shattered but satisfied emotional wreck by the morning. She made up her mind there and then, this was one affair she didn't want to end.

"I want you to stand in the middle of the room whilst I put this blindfold on you Jean."

She was trembling now, what with wearing no knickers and being blindfolded; she could barely contain herself.

"Oh, and I don't want you to say a word."

She sensed an unknown perfume on the cool silky material that was covering her eyes, tied tight enough round her long blonde hair to block out all the light from the lounge. He removed the tiny white bolero jacket, unzipped the pale blue summer dress and gently pulled the thin straps away from her shoulders; she never wore a bra for him. The gossamer like material slipped down her tanned body, she felt a shudder of expectation as he eased her legs over the fallen dress, she could almost feel the silence. She shivered, felt vulnerable.

What was he up to? Steve paused for a moment to take in the beautiful sight that stood before him, naked in the middle of the room: a tanned, toned, blonde vision, legs accentuated by the heeled sandals, that tiny white V, a testament to many foreign holidays and hours on the sunbed. He certainly was a lucky guy, and he wasn't prepared to give her up – yet!

"I'm going to lead you into the other room," he whispered in her ear, "Just take it easy and I'll pop you onto the bed."

The top cover felt cool on her back as she laid herself out on the bed, then she experienced a warm furry feeling as first her right wrist, then her left was clamped to the bedstead. "You kinky bastard, am I in handcuffs?" "I said no talking."

She was confused, his voice was not threatening, quite the opposite actually, that's what unnerved her - it was the strangest he had behaved since they had met.

She heard the shower spraying the marbled bathroom walls and she thought about that morning when her husband had defiled her. She also wondered when she was going to get some action – a deep longing ache around her crotch was desperate for attention.

It's amazing, how when you lose one sense, others become more sensitive. She was sure she heard the room door open and close despite the sound of the running water. However the next sound, ice crackling in a bucket led her to believe a waiter had just delivered some champagne. He's going to do that amazing ice trick from the film nine and a half weeks - now that is worth waiting for.

She could smell his after-shave. He was close, he was also wet and she wished she'd been in the shower with him, his cock always seemed bigger when soaped up. Fucking under a jet of hot water was one of her turn-ons. Perhaps later, she imagined, her juices seeping onto the bed and down her thighs.

The champagne bottle opened with a pop – she jumped. She sensed a cold, wet, tingling dampness on her stomach; it wasn't going to be the ice after all.

The next sensation was the familiar feel of his tongue lapping at the champagne on her stomach, the tip flicking in and out of her navel sending electric shocks down to her clit. Her breathing became heavier, she wanted to reach out and guide his cock deep into her- she felt helpless. More cold tingly liquid was poured over her body, this time over her breasts.

Woah – that was nice. Even better when his tongue and lips were used to clean it up, she felt her nipples harden, he could bring her to orgasm that way. But not just yet – please!

"Open your legs," he whispered.

She moved without hesitation, parting her long limbs to reveal her trimmed soaking crotch – her heart beating faster, her breathing more rapid – she wanted him in her, now. She experienced the same furry sensation on her ankles as she had on her wrists, she was now totally at his mercy – her whole body shuddered at the thought of her helplessness.

Oh come on Steve – fuck me.

A door closed, then there was silence, she waited for what seemed like minutes – it was a matter of seconds.

The door-crashed open shattering the deathly quiet, for a moment she was frightened and screamed out his name. Her fear turned to relief as she heard a buzzing sound next to her ears, a knowing smile spread across her face, he was softening her up before the main event.

"Go on do it." she moaned. The initial shock of the cold plastic on her burning crotch made her gasp. It soon warmed up as expert hands guided the tip towards her aching clitoris, making little circular movements around the enflamed bud that stood proud and engorged. She inhaled a heady cocktail of her own muskiness and that unfamiliar perfume on the blindfold, she was also ready to come, she wanted to tell him but decided to play the game.

He must have sensed she was near to climax - she felt the vibrator being fed into her wet sticky hole – she never put it in there herself, but it did feel good. The sensations heightened as it slid towards her anus, and although she would never dream of touching down there, right now she didn't care as her whole body started to convulse. What could she do, anyway?

She was amazed at his dexterity, and, with the vibrator still sending shock waves through her body he slowly flicked at her clitoris with his pointed tongue – being blindfolded she could only imagine the position he was in.

As she finally gave in to the intense pleasure he was doling out, and shuddered to a total body-wrenching climax, the next shock hit her like a tidal wave.

If he was working on me down below, who the fuck was playing with my tits?

"Steve, who the hell is in here with us," she moaned, as another climax exploded inside her. She couldn't take any more. "Please Steve, take this fucking blindfold off me." It was a plea rather than a request – she was riding an emotional sexual roller coaster, the least he could do was let her see who else was in on the act.

The hands on her breasts were replaced by a tongue and a sensuous mouth that expertly brought her nipples to a tingling hardness, she felt a silky wetness move up to her neck, over her chin and onto her own lips, the smell of that perfume now heightened. She opened her mouth, welcomed the darting tongue; it was the most sensuous kiss she had ever experienced, not harsh like her husband's, and totally different to Steve's.

Her ankles were released from the cuffs – his hands traced a fine sensuous line up her inner thighs, opening her legs even more, she felt him enter her, not long and thin like her husband. Steve filled her with his big fat cock, thrilling her with a slow grinding motion. This is more like it. The other pair of soft hands contoured down her body and slowly massaged her clitoris. "Go on Steve – fuck it," she screamed, "you fucking deserve it."

She gasped as he pulled out, replacing his cock with his tongue, licking round her inner lips, then that sensitive little spot just above her ass, she didn't know how much more she could take, another climax thundered through her body – how many had that been? She had lost count.

Her arms flopped down onto the pillows, released from their shackles, those soft lips and tongue pressed against hers, she tasted herself then flung her arms round his neck – a soft smaller body. The blindfold was released from around her head. She recognised the new face.

It must have been two hours before Steve put his head round the door of the bedroom, "You two been having fun?"

Jean stirred, the head of her new lover nestling between her arm and her left breast, short dark hair damp with sweat, "Yeah, thanks for the present," she purred. "Don't thank me, you've had this admirer for a long time, in fact she set up the whole deal in the bar."

Sally opened her eyes; kissed Jeans left nipple and reached down under the bed. "I think these are yours," she handed Jean her missing G-string. "It did feel nice on." It all fell into place now, the young woman in the bar, the text messages and the coughing she heard in the ladies room. "You pair of sneaky bastards." Steve laughed as he walked back into the lounge – she didn't care- she had three days to get to know her new friend.

He too had plans – for all of them!