I am pleased to say that I managed to get a couple of days complete rest before flying off to England and meeting up with Yvonne.
My little fling with Hazel was still fresh in my mind though, and we had spoken a couple of times on the phone afterwards and arranged another date after my return.
No more details about the next “gentleman’s night” had come through, so I really didn’t know what to expect apart from sharing a stage with a Russian lady. So my mind sort of worked overtime on that one.
The day before my flight, I had the full works done at the beauty salon here. The constant sunshine had made my hair a little too blonde for my liking, so I decided to go auburn again. Gary and I were both pleased with the results.
It was actually nearer to my natural colour (or it was before the bits of grey came along!) and I hoped Yvonne would like it. I had a couple of inches trimmed off too so that it wasn’t quite shoulder length, and easier to manage.
A good but painful job had been done on my legs and pussy, and my nails were painted a dark maroon, both toes and fingers.
What to pack to wear was more of a problem. September in the UK could be quite cool, especially after what I had got used to here in Turkey.
Also, I wasn’t sure if we would be going out anywhere that required dressing up or not, so it was a very full suitcase that accompanied me to the airport.
Gary dropped me there bright and early in the morning and my flight took off bang on time. I had a window seat and watched Turkey disappear in a cloudless sky. But soon clouds came along and there wasn’t much to look at.
Once I had settled in my seat and ordered an orange juice from the stewards, a guy in the next seat started a conversation. Well, it would help pass the time on a four-hour flight.
He told me that he worked as a travel consultant and had been to Marmaris to assess some hotels and places to visit. I told him that I had lived in Turkey for fourteen years, and that Marmaris was one of my least favourite places there, and that it certainly wasn’t what I call the real Turkey.
“But it’s a really lively place where you can have so much fun,” I remember the guy telling me.
“I can get what I call fun without all that noise and razzamatazz,” was my reply. I couldn’t believe I said that. I think I blushed a little when I realised what I had said.
He obviously didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to try and explain that I didn’t mean it as it came out. So there was a very long silence.
A bit of turbulence five minutes or so later broke the silence, and we started chatting again. He asked a lot of questions and seemed very interested in our retirement in Turkey. I only told him the less interesting bits though!
His name was Peter. I would say he was probably in his early fifties. He was quite distinguished looking with grey hair and a nice smile.
As we started our descent into Stansted, we swapped phone numbers. It was all quite innocent. He told me he wanted to do an article on ex-pat retirement abroad and asked me if I could spare the time to talk about it some more.
I told him that I was only in the UK for a week and didn’t know if I would have a chance, and we left it at that.
I got a painful twinge in my ear as the plane lost height. It happens sometimes. Peter found a boiled sweet and said: “Here, suck on this, it will help.”
Again I made myself blush. “I’ve heard those words a few times before,” I replied.
Why was I letting myself down like that? I hadn’t been drinking.
This time, he didn’t ignore the remark. He laughed and at the same time put his hand on my leg and squeezed it gently.
I didn’t move away, and he kept his hand there until we had landed. He seemed genuinely concerned about the little twinges that I was getting, and actually the boiled sweet worked pretty well.
Then he was a perfect gentleman and got my hand luggage from above our heads, and we chatted some more as we made our way through passport control and baggage reclaim.
Peter’s bag came first and I was still waiting for mine, so he made his way out before me. I thanked him for his help and told him that I would try and ring him later on in the week.
Yvonne was waiting for me as I made my way out of the airport. She took a quick double-take before smiling, and we hugged like long lost friends. She was looking so beautiful, dressed casually in light denim jeans and a primrose top. Her shoulder-length black hair was immaculate, she had a gorgeous smile, and I detected a bit of a tear in her gorgeous eyes.
She told me that she loved my hair as we made our way to her car. We never stopped chatting away, and her posh voice was turning me on already.
Yvonne made some remark about how heavy my suitcase was as she helped me to put it the boot, and then we were quickly on the motorway.
She told me it was about forty minutes to her home and asked if I wanted a pub lunch on the way back. I told her that I would prefer to freshen myself up first if it was no problem, so we went straight to her place.
The conversation never dried up at all, and she pulled up into the driveway of a lovely cottage with a thatched roof. It looked beautiful and so secluded.
Yvonne showed me to my room. It was gorgeous, with a low ceiling and a view of her flower-filled garden and some rolling green fields beyond with a church spire to the right. It all reminded me of the sort of thing you associate with the “Miss Marple” stories by Agatha Christie.
She had spoken to me about her cottage, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be so beautiful. It certainly had the “wow” factor, and it must have shown on my face, as she asked, “do you like my little abode, Jill?”
“A beautiful home for a beautiful person,” I replied.
She gave me a big hug. She smelt beautiful. But I probably didn’t after my flight, so I told her that I needed a shower and she showed me where the bathroom was.
Yvonne had gone back downstairs again, so as I stripped off, I asked if we were doing anything later on because I didn’t know what to wear.
“I thought we would spend some time together here if that’s OK with you,” she called up the stairs.
That sounded promising, so I put some really sexy red undies on with just a zip front black mini skirt and a button-through red blouse. I wanted to look appealing and available.
When I went downstairs and Yvonne saw me, she just said “Wow”, and told me that she had better go and get changed herself. So I patiently waited, watching her TV.
She appeared about half an hour later looking absolutely stunning in a pink figure-hugging dress just above knee length. Her hair and makeup were both wonderful.
I stood up, told how lovely she looked and gave her a hug. “Well, once I saw how you looked, I thought I had better make an effort,” she said.
We didn’t kiss, just hugged and smiled at each other. But I wanted her, so I made the first move, licking her ear lobe and pulling her tighter against me. She gasped a little, and then suddenly we were kissing passionately, tongues flicking and hands roaming all over each other.
We had both taken such care getting dressed and now here we were frantically stripping each other and leaving everything in a pile on the floor.
It was early afternoon, so it was still light, and here was the lady who had been so shy at first at our villa letting me take her panties off in her front room, and standing before me naked and beautiful and with eyes full of lust and promise.
We moved to her sofa. It was a very big one, and very comfortable too as we tried several positions. We managed a sixty-nine, our tongues and fingers busying themselves as we lost ourselves to the pleasure and the promise of orgasms.
Then I showed her that I had not forgotten the pussy grinding action that she had taught me, and I positioned myself between her wide open legs and lowered my eager wet hole straight onto hers.
Oh my God, it was perfect. I was riding her like I was nearing the winning post in a horse race, and Yvonne was responding, urgently moving her hips as we neared our cums.
I cursed as I came first, but I just kept going and going, and what a sensation it was as I brought her to a cum. It actually made me cum again.
Then we lay together, cuddling and kissing as we got our breath back.
“I had planned to be a little more patient than that,” I told her.
“Well, it was just perfect Jill. And we only have a week, so there won’t be much patience from me,” she answered.
We both picked up our clothes and made our way upstairs to get dressed again. The planned pub lunch turned into a pub evening meal, and very nice it was too.
Yvonne was driving, so we didn’t stop at the pub too long after we had finished eating. On the way home, she told me that we had to talk. My heart sank. I thought everything had started so perfectly.
But it was OK. She told me that the week with me at our villa had reawoken her sex drive. She told me that she had thought of me constantly while we had been apart, and it had brought back feelings that she had forgotten about.
She continued, telling me that it had all come to a head a little while back and that one night she decided she just had to have a man.
I listened spellbound as she told me that she just rang Mike and told him that she needed a fuck. Swearing with that posh accent of hers is so funny.
She told me that it was probably the first time in her whole life that she had had sex just for the sake of it and without being “in love”. And also that she now understood a little more of the wanton lifestyle that Gary allowed me to lead.
“Surely you don’t want to go down the same road as me, do you?” I asked.
“No, no, nothing like that Jill, but I think I can maybe look for a bit of fun with no strings attached if you get my drift,” she replied.
We talked about our relationship, and she told me that, in a perfect world, she would want me to be her lifetime partner, but also that she knew that was impossible.
Wow, that was some statement, and my tears flowed as I gave her a big hug. I didn’t let go for ages and tried to cover up the fact that I was sobbing.
It was a very touching moment, and when we came apart, Yvonne dried my eyes with some tissues, then took me in her arms and said, “it’s OK JIll, I can live with it, and we are going to have so much sexy fun while you are here.”
All that conversation had taken place on the sofa in her lounge. It wasn’t late, but Yvonne made us both a hot chocolate, and when we had finished that she simply said, “Come on Jill, time for bed. You can share my room tonight.”
We got very little sleep that first night. We just made love, cuddled, hugged and kissed all through the night. I even managed to get by without a cigarette.
Twice, we got completely lost in passion with each other, screaming obscenities as we reached many orgasms. No toys were used, but we were getting to know each other’s bodies so well. Yvonne quickly latched on to the fact that the backs of my knees being licked sends me wild, and I concentrated on her ear lobes, sucking and licking, which sent her crazy.
In the morning we had coffee and grapefruit together. Yvonne is very much into healthy eating and it certainly suited me.
“Anything planned today, Yvonne,” I enquired.
“Just a lazy day, Jill. We can go for a walk if you like. There are some lovely walks around here,” she replied.
So, both dressed casually, we ventured out into the lovely Cambridgeshire countryside. We saw a few other people, but most of the time we were alone. We chatted incessantly about all sorts of things. Sometimes we held hands, and we couldn’t resist a passionate kiss leaning against a tree trunk.
When we got back to her cottage, we talked some more. Yvonne told me that she was very happy to be with me all week, but also that she quite fancied doing something a little more adventurous.
“That’s interesting,” I said, “what sort of thing have you got in mind?”
“I suppose sex just for the pleasure of it, no strings attached sort of thing,” was her reply. This was a completely different Yvonne now.
“A guy or another lady?” I asked
“Oh, definitely some more cock Jill. That fuck with Mike made me want more, but I don’t want to start another affair with him.”
Sober as a judge, and with her lovely posh accent, Yvonne was talking dirty. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
I asked if she had any plans for the week ahead. Apparently, the only thing fixed up was a tennis tournament at her club on Sunday. She told me I could go along and watch if I liked, but I didn’t have to.
After more chatting, I found out that she hadn’t really got a clue where she was going to find a man. She lived in a very quiet part of the country, with one pub in her local village, Little Shelford, and another two pubs and restaurants in another village, Great Shelford.
The nearest big town was Cambridge itself, but she only knew about shops and supermarkets there.
We decided that we would go out and have a meal locally in one of the pubs. I suggested that we dressed and made ourselves up as if we were “on the pull” because you just never know. So we both wore shortish skirts. Mine was emerald green, Yvonne’s was black, with blouses that had enough buttons undone at the top to show off cleavage and give a glimpse of or bras.
The pub was quaint, not very busy, and had a lovely choice on the menu. We sat in a corner where we could both see most of the customers.
As we were finishing our meals, the place started to get busier. Not many were eating, but quite a few had come in for drinks. But it was nearly all couples and families, and there didn’t seem any prospects for us.
We had “one for the road”, and had nearly finished when a couple of guys came in together. I recognised them straight away. It was Terry and Dan, two of the three guys for whom that I had done a striptease in front of Mike’s camera.
They didn’t look our way at all, but just went straight to the bar and ordered drinks.
“Do you know those two guys?” I asked Yvonne.
“Yes, I recognise the one with grey hair, but I don’t know his name,” she replied.
“I did a striptease for them in Mike’s photo room,” I told her.
“Oh my God, so you’ve fucked them both?” Yvonne whispered.
“No, they weren’t allowed to. They were Mike’s rules,” I told her.
When they had got their drinks, they turned around with their backs to the bar, scanning the surroundings. Terry saw me, and he acted as if he couldn’t place where he had seen me before. Well, my hair was shorter and a different colour.
Terry and Dan said something to each other, and they both looked our way.
“What do we do now?” asked Yvonne.
“Just keep crossing and uncrossing your legs and give them a bit of a smile every now and then. But don’t stare,” I told her.
I could tell that Dan suddenly clicked and knew who I was, and Terry nodded in agreement when he said something to him, both of them now eyeing us up.
It didn’t take them long to come over and ask if they could join us, and of course, we asked them to take a seat.
“I think we have met before,” said Terry.
“Yes, I think you are friends of Mike, aren’t you? I’m Jill and this is Yvonne,” I said, trying to conceal my embarrassment.
They were chatting us up fairly quickly, asking us lots of questions, some of which we answered truthfully. They found out that I was staying with Yvonne and that she lived not far away.
In turn, we found out that they both lived in Cambridge. They bought us another drink, but before we started them, we excused ourselves and went to the ladies. I asked Yvonne if she was OK with everything, telling her that there was a very good chance of us getting laid.
She said she was just fine and asked which one I fancied most.
“I don’t think it matters really Yvonne. If we play our cards right, we can have them both,” I replied with a broad grin.
“You really think so Jill?” asked Yvonne. “Well, I’m game if you are.”
That confirmed that Yvonne had completely changed from how she was when we last met. It’s amazing what one good fuck just for the sake of it can do to you.
So, we strolled back to the table, and by the time we had finished our drinks, we had accepted a lift to Cambridge to one of their places.
Terry was driving. Dan obviously really fancied Yvonne, so they got in the back seat and I got in next to Terry. It was only a ten-minute drive. I didn’t look, but it was pretty obvious that there was some pretty heavy snogging going on in the back. I had to content myself with Terry’s hand caressing my leg when he got a chance.
When Terry opened the front door of his house, Dan led Yvonne into the lounge and quickly claimed the settee, so I sat on Terry’s lap on an armchair.
In no time at all, Terry had my blouse unbuttoned and one of my tits out of my bra. He alternated between tongue flicking and sucking on my nipple.
I stood up and turned my back on him so that he could unzip my skirt. He was quick, so I stepped out of it as he unclipped my bra which fell to the floor. Then he moved me to the arm of the chair.
From behind, he kissed my neck and shoulders while one hand cupped my boobs and the other one went between my legs with a finger teasing my pussy.
Terry stripped of very quickly and resumed in the same position. I leaned forward a little more and spread my legs wider. I felt his cock against my bum cheeks as he continued fingering me.
The noises coming from the settee made me look in that direction, and I could see Dan’s bald head bobbing up and down between Yvonne’s legs, which she had wrapped around his torso.
Nobody had bothered to switch the lights out and the view made me even randier, so I suppose both Terry and I were impatient. I felt him rub his cock all around my bum hole before he took me from behind, his cock finding my very eager pussy easily.
He was good. His cock was really hard and he kept changing speeds and then teasing me by almost pulling it right out and making me wait a few seconds before pushing it home again. And all the time he was kissing my neck and ears delightfully. I turned to look at him, and I could tell he was close to shooting his load.
It was so good, and I helped him by moving my hips a lot as he rammed me. I didn’t have long to wait. He didn’t pull out, and I felt his twitching cock unload inside me. I hadn’t cum myself yet, but I knew there was more to come.
As we got our breath back, our attention moved to the action on the settee. What a sight! My beautiful Yvonne naked and straddling a prostrate Dan. She was obviously near a cum, and she was really going for it, riding his cock and gyrating her hips.
I think they must have cum at the same time. They were both very noisy. The number of times I heard the words fuck, shit, and yesss, was incredible.
We ended up doing everything that night. We swapped partners, and I found out that Dan was not only very well endowed but a wonderful fuck.
There were two on ones both ways around, and an incredible ten minutes when Yvonne and I got together in a sixty-nine while the two guys stood watching, playing with each other’s cocks.
We got about three hours sleep before Terry dropped us home the next morning. Yvonne and Dan had swapped phone numbers, and she talked about him and his big cock almost all the time. But we were literally shagged out, so we showered and went to our separate beds.
For most of the rest of the week, Yvonne and I stayed in and made love at every opportunity. She kept thanking me for reawaking her sex drive. For my part, I was just astounded by the change. There were no thoughts about the lights being out anymore.
The day before I was due to fly home was the day of Yvonne’s tennis tournament. I had decided that I would go along and watch, but the evening before I got a message from Peter, who I had met on the plane.
He was asking if there was any chance of meeting up with him so that he could write his article on life for ex-pats in Turkey. I ran it by Yvonne who said she had no problem, so I told him where I was staying, and he arranged to pick me up around lunchtime.
I wasn’t sure whether this was just going to be a sort of interview or whether there was an underlying sexual motive for him contacting me.
Peter wasn’t really my sort of guy, but if he came on to me, I would certainly be game for another entry in hubby’s journal. So I wore a sexy pink bra and pantie set with suspenders and barely black stockings.
But my outfit was quite conservative for me. A black pencil skirt just above the knee, and a pink blouse. So I was dressed for all eventualities.
Yvonne left her cottage before me for her tennis tournament, and Peter turned up about half an hour later. He took me to a pub about another thirty minutes drive away and bought us both lunch and a glass of wine.
It was just like a date really. He didn’t talk about the article he wanted to do until we had finished our meal, and then he told me he would like to take me back to his place because that was also his office with all the necessary equipment.
I agreed to that but still didn’t know if there was anything romantic on the agenda.
We arrived at a small modern detached house which wasn’t at all in keeping with its surroundings, and when we went inside, I could tell straight away that the house lacked a woman’s touch. But it was clean and tidy.
For the first hour, it was all questions from Peter and genuine answers from me about the pros and cons of ex-pat life where we lived. Sometimes he wrote things down, but most of the time he recorded everything.
We had a break, and he made me an excellent cup of coffee, and I sat opposite him on a large settee while we talked about other things. He opened up a little and told me that he was divorced twice and had three kids.
Then he said something like, “going back to our little conversations on the plane Jill, you led me to believe that there were maybe more bits of fun in your retirement life than you have told me about.”
I couldn’t tell him everything, but I told him that my hubby and I had an open relationship and that, yes, I did have my moments.
“Lucky lady,” was all he said, and then the conversation turned to other things
Still unsure whether he was going to make a move, I decided to do my crossing my legs act, but the skirt was a little too long and tight to get the required effect, so when he went to fetch something from another room, I undid a couple more buttons on my blouse.
What Peter had fetched was a camera, and he asked if he could take some photos of me that he could use in his article. So I posed demurely for a few pictures from different angles, some standing and some sitting.
Then, quite out of the blue, he asked if he could take some pictures just for his own collection.
Bingo! His eyes lit up as I sat on the settee and undid a couple more buttons on my blouse. My bra and cleavage were on show, and I was in my element now as he continued to click away.
I stood up and took my blouse off, and then unzipped my skirt at the back. He moved around getting different angles as I slid the skirt right down and stepped out of it.
When he saw that I was in suspenders and stockings, he just said “wow.” Then a few moments later after snapping away some more, he told me that I was “fucking gorgeous.”
I love performing for a camera. It turns me on. So it wasn’t long before I unclipped my bra and slowly let it fall to the floor. He put the camera down and told me that he wanted to see my nipples really erect for the next photo.
On cue, I started playing with my boobs, but he shook his head, walked over to me and said: “no Jill, I’ll be the one to make them nice and stiff.”
And he certainly did. He sucked my nipples for ages before tweaking them with his finger and thumb. Satisfied with how stiff they were, he took some more shots.
I was really into it now, and let him takes pics from different angles, giving him some looks, and occasionally playing with my nipples to keep them really hard.
Next, I lay down on my back on his settee. He moved back a little and kept clicking away while I ran my hand down my body and inside my panties. The whole situation was turning me on and only seconds later my finger found my pussy, still inside my panties.
Peter was encouraging me, telling me how sexy I was as he moved around to get different angles. Well, I was feeling very sexy and naughty, so I lifted my bum up a little and started to slide my panties down.
I didn’t have to complete the job. Peter put the camera down and helped them right down and over my shoes. His tongue was straight down on me.
I opened my legs as far as I could and he moved around to give himself a better angle, but he was kneeling on the carpet and I couldn’t get to his important bits.
We stopped, and I got up and lay down on his carpet just a couple of feet in front of the settee. Peter stripped while I got myself comfortable, taking a cushion off the settee and putting it under my bum.
I was disappointed to see that he wasn’t hard yet but soon forgot about that as he got to work on me again. He licked me all the way up my legs and then onto my eager pussy.
He licked and finger fucked me, and I have to say, it was the work of an expert, bringing me to a wonderful climax.
Dressed in just my suspenders and stockings, I was ready for a good fuck. He still wasn’t hard though. He noticed my look, and we stopped as he explained that he suffered from penile dysfunction, and he couldn’t raise it.
Well, I found out that I am not a lady who accepts defeat too easily, and I started to give him a blow job. I did my very best and tried everything I knew, but the nearest I got to success was a semi hard-on when I sucked and licked his balls whilst wanking him at the same time, but it wasn’t enough for a shag.
Luckily for me, Peter was still giving me a lot of attention, and he was very good with his fingers. He was bringing me to a lovely cum, and I was starting to get really noisy. I was still doing my best with my lips, tongue on his prick.
I wanked him some more as I lost control, mouthing obscenities. And that’s when I noticed his cock was starting to get there. So, for a couple of minutes, I carried on as best as I could, playing with his manhood whilst using all the dirty talk I could.
I even used the word “cunt”, which is a word I don’t really like, but the dirtier I talked, the bigger and harder he got.
It was time for action. Still swearing away, I mounted him. I wanked him some more as I lowered myself onto him. I will never, ever, forget the look on his face as he realised that he was fucking me. I suppose it was a mixture of surprise, delight and passion.
His cock was good too. It felt really big inside me, and I steadied myself with one hand on the carpet as I bounced up and down on him. He shot his load inside me in no time at all, and then I collapsed on top of him as we hugged and cuddled for ages afterwards.
Peter was squeezing me as hard as he could, our perspiring bodies hard against each other as he kept thanking me. He was a little over the top with his gratitude, to be honest, but I must admit, I did feel really proud of myself.
Even more so when he confided that he had used a couple of prostitutes to try and cure his problem to no avail.
I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, and when I got back to the lounge, Peter was sitting on the settee naked and gestured for me to sit next to him. I was still just in my suspenders and stockings.
So, I sat next to him, and he asked me to tell him more about what I had told him was an open relationship. I was, of course, very used to describing my sexual exploits because Gary loves hearing it all.
Firstly, I told him about Ben and the lovely sexy holidays he had with me. Peter started stroking my legs as I told him about the tingling sensations that I sometimes got with Ben and described how very good he was with his tongue.
Then, as I described the one night stand that I had enjoyed with holidaymaker Sam in his hotel room, Peter’s hand went above my stocking top and toyed with my pussy.
I looked down at him, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Peter had a massive hard-on again.
We smiled at each other. He stood up, took my hand and pulled me up. and then led me to his bedroom. He laid me on my back on his bed and fucked me straight away in the missionary position.
He was very good too. The obscenities flowed from my lips again as he brought me to a wonderful cum. This time, he just kept going, and he took me doggy position too, but then we reverted to missionary, where he came inside me again.
I had to say, it was a very satisfying fuck from more than one point of view. I think he was well and truly cured, and I’d enjoyed some lovely orgasms too and had another good memory. Plus. of course, a different sort of entry for hubby’s journal.
I showered and got dressed. Peter was still naked and looking at his notes when I reappeared. He told me that he had enough material from me and that he was looking forward to completing his “guide to ex-pat living”.
He took a memory card out of his camera and together on his laptop, we looked at the photos he had taken. Firstly the ones for use in his article, and then the ones of me posing. He was a good photographer too.
“These photos of you will remind me of today and what you have done for me Jill,” he told me.
“You are an incredible and beautiful lady, and you really know what you are doing when it comes to sex. I will always love you for it. Thank you so much,” he continued.
His words actually made me cry, and we hugged long and hard before I told him that he ought to get dressed and think about dropping me home.
Yvonne wasn’t back when I arrived at her place, but she had given me a key, so I said my goodbyes to Peter and put the kettle on for a cup of coffee.
She turned up about an hour later, by which time I had changed out of my respectable clothes and into a sexy black nightie, shiny and very short. Well, it was going to be our last night together before I flew home.
Yvonne’s lovely eyes smiled as she noticed how I was dressed, and she hurriedly told me how she was runner up in a doubles tournament, but that she was annoyed because her partner had played “fucking shit” in the final and they should have won.
That posh accent and swear words again. She knew how to get me going.
She told me that she was going to shower and change, but as she went upstairs, she excitedly told me that she had got a date with Dan in a couple of days.
When I heard the shower being turned off, I made my way upstairs. Her bedroom door was open, but I still knocked as I peaked in. She was sitting at her dressing table doing her hair. She turned towards me and smiled, and invited me in.
“Tell me about your day, Jill, while I finish my hair,” she insisted. So I told her. And I didn’t leave anything out.
She seemed satisfied with her hair and spun around on her stool. She was naked, and with a wicked smile, she said; ” You really are an outrageous fucking tart, aren’t you? Now I want to hear you talk really dirty to me while I get your busy little pussy.”
I didn’t answer. I just pulled the sexy nightie I had carefully chosen over my head, threw it to the floor, laid on the bed and awaited my pleasure.
While Yvonne fingered and licked me, I described some of the more pleasurable experiences in great detail to her and used the foulest language to emphasise things.
As if I wasn’t horny enough being pleasured by a really beautiful sexy lady, all the thoughts of what I was telling her about took me over the top. I had cum after cum, and Yvonne just kept on driving me wild with her tongue on my clit.
What she was doing for me obviously had the same effect on her and she raised her head from between my legs and said; “Jill, I think it must be my fucking turn now.”
No sooner said than done. Of course, my talking had to stop because I was too busy with my tongue on Yvonne’s very eager pussy. But, surprise, surprise, Yvonne carried on where I had left off, telling me what she and Dan were going to do next week in graphic detail and how she was going to get as much of his massive fucking cock as she could.
We both had so many cums, and eventually, the dirty talk stopped as we went into sixty nines and then practised our grinding on each other. Sleep took over in the end, but not before Yvonne set her alarm so that we had plenty of time in the morning before I had to leave for my flight.
In the end, the morning just turned out to be shower sex together, getting ready and a lot of talking. We were desperate to try and arrange some more time together, but nothing definite transpired. Yvonne was keen to come over to Turkey, but she had a busy working life to consider, and I had a few things work around too.
It had been a wonderful and satisfying week for both of us, and there were tears streaming down our faces as we hugged tightly at the airport drop off zone.
I had so much to tell Gary about, and he was going to have to make a few more entries in his journal. I slept nearly all the way back. I only had four days before meeting up with a Russian lady and performing in front of God knows how many randy men.
But before that, I had another evening of bi pleasure to look forward to with my new lover Hazel. Soon I was going to have to make a decision. I had two ladies who I had very strong feelings for. Yvonne had told me that she would like me as a life partner if the circumstances were different, and a lot of that really appealed to me.
The sex we were enjoying together was fantastic, and out of the two, I found her slightly more sexually attractive to me. The posh accent, especially, when she talked dirty, was a very big turn on, and there didn’t seem to be any personality clashes.
But we were over three thousand miles away from each other, whereas Hazel was thirty minutes away. And she was gorgeous too. I had a feeling that the sex between us was going to get better and better, and I certainly wanted more.
Maybe because they were so far apart, I could carry on with both of them, but I don’t like being deceitful, so I would have to tell the truth to both of them. Yvonne would be OK with it. She already knew most things about my wonderfully randy sex life, but at the moment, Hazel just thought I had an open marriage. She would probably be shocked if she knew it all.
However, my mind couldn’t stop straying from the thought of the forthcoming “gentleman’s night.” I love performing, and although I didn’t know that much about the night yet, what I did know was that I would be making out with an unknown Russian lady in front of a room full of men.
I had enjoyed most of the gang bang that I had experienced on my first night working for mafia boss Muzzy, and if there was a chance of another one, I would go for it.
And Muzzy wanted to take me away and own me completely, with all that that would entail
Those were the thoughts that were going around my head as the plane began its descent, and by the time we had landed, I realised that my panties were soaking wet with the thought of it all.