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Back Door Fun: Lust in a Hot Climate #3

Not being averse to rear entry, I opened the lube from my bedside cabinet…

In Part One and Part Two we learned that Dan decided to ditch his studies and the UK. He helps out Mr and Mrs Jock at their bar in Magaluf. And Jock is happy for Dan to also shag his foxy 50 something wife. In this episode which can be read as a stand alone, Dan’s sex life takes a different turn …


Back Door Fun

It has to be said, flying out to Magaluf was one of the best decisions of my life. The trip changed my goals completely. The boy in me was transformed into a man by spending time with Judy. And going out fishing with her husband, Jock, was similar to a bloke’s night out — too much beer with nothing taking the bait. Not only that, I loved working at Jock’s Place. Things couldn’t have been better.

One day I took a stroll down to the beach. It was my afternoon off from the bar and I fancied a swim. The sea was a delight but it wasn’t long before the sun loungers were all taken. Most seemed to be occupied by people about my age — early 20’s — who covered themselves with lotion, laid down and went to sleep.

I was just about to go for a swim when I noticed an extremely gorgeous babe walking past in only a thong. Her small round titties gleaming with oil in the sunlight. Nipples pert even in the heat. I suspected she had recently applied sun cream and massaged them to attention. My cock stirred as I watched her ambling down to the sea and I began to anticipate the planned evening ahead with Judy in her skimpy lingerie. Even at fifty-something I knew she would give most of these young babes a run for their money.

Once I had dried off I hurried back to Jock’s Place and Judy met me at the door.

“Dan I‘m’ sorry. I was looking forward to a dirty night with you and goodness knows I need a fuck but we’re too busy. A party has just booked half the restaurant area. Another evening, honey.”

Seeing the disappointment on my face she continued. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have some sexy fun. You aren’t tied to my apron strings! Why don’t you go and find some chicks your own age. C’mon you know I don’t mind.” She nestled against me, then discreetly and gently gave my balls a squeeze. “I think these need emptying sooner than I can give them any attention.” She kissed me lightly on the lips and went back into the bar.

I decided to check out the talent at a club on the outskirts of town so headed off in that direction intending to stop for a bite to eat first. Just as the larger buildings dwindled and the smaller local cafes appeared my eye was caught by a pretty taverna. It was family-owned and by far the best feature was their nineteen year old daughter, Maria, who was waiting tables.

She was a peach. Long, straight black hair framed her delicate features. Rosebud mouth ripe and ready. Not to mention, as soon as I sat down it was obvious she liked me. Over the course of dinner I invited her to the club with me. She nodded, although I was not sure she understood what I’d asked. Maria didn’t speak much English. However, after I‘d ’finished that first meal she took my hand and made it clear she was not interested in going to a club — she wanted to come back to my room. And who was I to say no?

We only just made it through the door before I was tasting her generous mouth. Stripping in double quick time she landed on her knees to worship my cock. Her whole face pushed against me as her mouth took in my dick. Without inhibitions she licked and slurped as if she had never witnessed such a fine penis. She was a welcome antidote to the stuck-up students from my college at home in England.

To be honest I was overwhelmed by her attentions and as Mrs Jock had noticed my balls were ready to burst so it wasn’t long until her pretty face was covered in my sperm. Maria didn’t seem to mind. After cleaning up we began kissing again. I was in my prime so my cock was not quiet for long.

I pushed her face-down onto the bed, needing to fuck. Covering my dick with a rubber I lined up for a swift entry when her hand went down between her legs and she stopped me penetrating her cunt. Muttering, in broken English, ‘I a virgin’. Well that statement certainly surprised me but when she moved my knob to her arse hole, making a few appreciative moans, I understood — having heard that in some cultures it was important to still be intact on the wedding night. Not being averse to rear entry I opened the lube from my bedside cabinet and generously rubbed it over the condom and her anus. Then inched myself into the warm, tight orifice.

Maria arched her back and wriggled so my rod was completely engulfed. Her hand went down to her clit and as I rode her home she rubbed at her bud until we both fell onto the bed, sweaty and fulfilled. I stayed on top until my dick slid out. What a girl. I mean Mrs Jock was great but Maria was nearer my own age and so willing too. I wondered if I could fall for a babe like her. Before I managed to ask if she wanted to stay the night, she jumped up, dressed and rushed home jabbering on about her father.

The next day I sat down with a coffee and told Judy all about it. She didn’t mind at all. In fact she suggested I get Maria out of my system and see her as much as I wanted. Reassuring me she would be waiting to provide some proper loving.

To be continued…


Back Door Fun: This story first appeared on my Medium Profile, as part of a two episode series. I am sharing it here in four parts, each published on a Saturday and linked to Wicked Wednesday and Erotic Fiction Deluxe. However, if you are impatient for the final part, you can continue to the next episode here…

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Mischief – Back Door Fun
Lottery – Back Door Fun

Real Life Bondage Alfresco Style ~ Outside Bondage

Bondage Alfresco Style – He’s back. He lifts the skirt of my dress and sighs taking a moment to absorb my lace top stockings, suspender belt and appealing knickers. Then fastening my dress to my waist with a clip he reaches for the whip.

Continue reading Real Life Bondage Alfresco Style ~ Outside Bondage

For the Sins of Red Part Three ~ Younger Days

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Content NoticeYounger Days contains violence

Catch up with part one – Clive and part two – home

Part three of my series For the Sins of Red – Younger Days

Finally I fell into a deep sleep until a noise – shrill and intrusive – abruptly pulled me back to reality.

I took a moment to assess what was my life. It seemed vastly different from two weeks ago. I thought the harsh noise was maybe some kind of alarm, probably triggered by a car out side.

Pushing my head into the pillow I willed it to stop. But no. Eventually, I couldn’t lay there any longer. I got up, looked out of my bedroom window and saw a different surveillance vehicle had now taken the place of Wilkins and Collins. In the dim light from the street lamps I vaguely caught the outline of a woman in the passenger seat, reading. Looked like a kindle. How could she concentrate with this infernal ringing? Then I realised the racket was actually coming from the other room.

Pulling a baggy jumper over my pajamas I marched out to the kitchen and wasn’t surprised when I saw my sister, Marie, cloth in hand, waving at the smoke alarm. Burnt toast waiting to be removed from the toaster.

She looked at me, then glanced back at the task in hand. Finally the noise halted and we sat down at the kitchen table.

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.” I exclaimed.

“Well, it’s actually 5am. I have a schedule you know. Breakfast at five, shower at half past. Then at my desk – I mean your desk – by 6. It’s not easy following your grades.” Marie ended by scowling at me.

“Right.” I didn’t know what else to say. My sister was a routine freak. Product of my mother. “I have to be at the police station at 9.30.”

“Let me make you a coffee.” It was clear she suddenly felt sorry for me.

We sipped our drinks in silence until she finally succumbed to curiosity.

“Rosie.” She whined in a sickly sweet tone. “When you moved in with him, was he -Clive I mean- well, a perv? Back then. I’ve read the newspapers.”

She seemed genuinely interested and I thought it may help me to get events straight in my head for the police, so once again I looked back nine years and launched into a monologue of my younger days with Clive, the notorious serial killer, while Marie sat opposite listening, totally absorbed.

At first Clive was a gentle guy. He treated me well. With respect. Shortly after I moved in and started work at Weatherspoons he got a job in the library, of all places. I laughed when he told me as it was the same one where he’d been rescued as a baby. Working with books suited him down to the ground and the council soon had him training part-time as a librarian.

To many we must have seemed an odd couple. Me, the gregarious barmaid and Clive the quiet, book worm. We didn’t often socialise with friends as a couple. Clive didn’t have any. Not one. And mine were simply too outgoing for him. I would have a Friday night out after work with my mates and that was it. The rest of the evenings Clive and I would cook, watch movies or read – together.

It was at this point that Marie said, “Sex. What about the sex?”

That was certainly something I had pondered over. But back then Clive was my first relationship. I didn’t know what was acceptable. What was usual for couples. The fact was, we rarely had sex. When we did Clive would make a big thing of us both showering and putting on a clean duvet cover after. Like he was ashamed of our pleasure.

When he climaxed he was almost apologetic. That was odd, and he also didn’t like it when I was noisy, you know, during sex. In fact he would sometimes cover my face with a hand trying to quieten me. Once he shoved my panties in my mouth and then turned me on my front and fucked my arse. We were drunk. Which was a good job as I was relaxed so it didn’t hurt too much. Now I am older and wiser I know a lot of people include many kinds of kinky acts in their lives. But adding all the other stuff up I probably should have realised his behaviour was unhinged.

Going back to the night he buggered me, I’d assumed it was just the alcohol, and put it to the back of my mind.

The next day he couldn’t do enough to please me. Ran me a bubble bath. Made dinner. Trying to make up. Although, we didn’t mention what had happened at all. But, in general I’d say we were close. We talked about so many different things. His past and how he wondered who his real parents were. And mum. Neither of us was keen on her. He went round to pick some of my stuff up after I’d moved out. She was verbally very rude to him. At the time he didn’t deserve that. Getting whipped by her sharp tongue.

Things muddled along okay, mostly, for about a year. Then I got promoted and started shadowing a proper area manager. On occasions I’d have to stay in a hotel on the other side of town. Clive didn’t like that. We had loads of arguments about my job. When I returned from working away he’d have a bath ready for me. And then come and sit and watch intently while I bathed. I’m sure he was examining my body in case there were signs I had been with someone else. A couple of times I caught him loading the washing machine and checking my knickers.

This all happened slowly. So his obsessions seemed to creep up on me. It didn’t really hit me what had been going on until, well, until the week before I left.

I wasn’t planning on leaving him but one evening my boss, Jack, dropped me home after a meeting. We sat in the car for five minutes chatting and laughing about something from earlie. I said goodbye and ran up the path to the front door. I saw Clive looking out the window. When I walked in he slammed the door, grabbed me and pushed me against it. Before I knew what was happening he landed a crack across the left side of my face. So hard I fell to the floor. Shouting obscenities. Accusing me of whoring with the boss.

I suppose that’s the moment I realised that our relationship was toxic. And I had to work out how to get away from him.

Marie was looking shocked. Eyes and mouth wide open. So I stopped. Enough of my younger days. Back to the present and I needed to get ready for when the police came to collect me. So, I gave her a hug. As if she was the one who needed comforting. Funny really. And I asked her to make sure there was some food in for tea.


Header image use for Younger Days Part Three is from Unsplash

 Younger Days

Exploring Anal Play Toys, Anal Play & Anal Sex

Anal Play and Penetration

There are two things I know about anal sex. The first is that most people seem to have a huge fascination with it. The second thing is that anybody who receives anal sex or anal play in general, should be careful regarding how the act is carried out, and follow necessary precautions or advice to ensure that the delicate cavity is not harmed in anyway. Continue reading Exploring Anal Play Toys, Anal Play & Anal Sex

A dirty deed or two

Content Notice ~ #DomesticDisharmony, Theft and Sex are contained within this piece of fiction…

Conflicting Thoughts

I can hardly bare to look. My cock is straining against the fabric of my boxers and at odds with the thoughts in my mind. As I raise my eyes to meet her gaze sweat drips onto the lids slightly obscuring the sight before me.  But I force myself to focus on her face. Mouth slightly open, long black hair swaying with the shunting motion of her body as Calum continues his relentless fucking of her arse.

Continue reading A dirty deed or two

Missing Monique ~ A short Story

In hindsight I can’t really say anything special had ever happened to me until I met Monique. Or Nique. But I am jumping ahead as she only used to call herself that when we were, well, fucking. Damn. Now you know we were lovers and I have taken all the anticipation out of this tale. But, you’ll have to wait to learn how we loved. It was ten years ago and I still get off on the memories from that time. Particularly when I’m in the shower, stroking my dick. The spurting hot water from the head pummels my knob and I can never hold back as I recall that first time I laid eyes on her.

Continue reading Missing Monique ~ A short Story