Lisa's Scribbles

a new blog just for Yumi and me

2007-01-06T16:43:00.000Z

We both figured we needed a place to open our hearts. It may be soppy or serious or both but it'll just be a reflection of our feelings.

It's only for us but both of us being exhibitionists to an extent, we decided to allow others to peek into our somewhat secret posts.

Nobody else needs to like it or approve. Feel free to read it if you like, or not, but remember, it's an outpouring written as catharsis, not to please others.

I will try to leave Yumi's posts as written and I've promised her that I'll only proofread and correct major errors. Her English is surprisingly good though but, of course, she has some odd habits in translation.

My diary style is to write as if for an audience. Yumi tends to write directly to me. But this blog is, principally, for an audience of two.

Should anyone like to peek into our inner world it's called 'lesbienne'

Tokyo - The Challenge - 30th September

2006-10-03T05:59:00.000+01:00

Background

Messages were exchanging back and forth with a friend on Stumbleupon and I mentioned that I’d love a challenge; something to do that might be difficult and fun, here in Tokyo. He thought about it and came up with something.

The Challenge

The challenge sounded simple but, as you know, simple things can get complicated so easily. I was to find a young virgin guy (of legal age, of course) and convince him to give his virginity to me. Now, as I said, it sounds simple.

What Happened

The plan

Tokyo is a big city, heavily populated and divided into sections in a loose kinda way. Somewhere in this city I had to find a virgin guy, take him somewhere private, or not, and have sex with him. Now, I talked to a friend, Kishi, and she talked to a few other friends, guys and girls, to try and find the most likely place to fulfill this challenge.

Kishi’s circle of friends is mostly from the more ‘interesting’ side of life and not one of the guys she knows is a virgin. It took a while but finally they came up with Akihabara. It was a place I’d thought might be likely when talking to my SU friend and it was confirmed by Kishi and her friends.

Why Akihabara? It’s Tokyo’s geek paradise. A lot of guys go there to ‘maid cafes’ to be served by waitresses dressed in the costume of their favourite Anime character. Most of the guys live in a kind of fantasy world of their own, obsessed by ‘characters’ rather than real women. It couldn’t be hard to find a virgin among that lot although I was warned that some might be scared off by an ‘actual’ woman. Worth a try.

My friends managed to secure a place nearby for a ‘tryst’ and found a costume I could wear that would serve the fantasy element. In the end I emerged from my friend’s car dressed in a French maid’s outfit, complete with hat, white stockings and razor sharp, and tall, stiletto heels. I even had a tiny purse and a feather duster. Red, red lipstick and pale makeup finished off the look.

On the town

Once on the street, eyes fixed on me and I have to admit I was a little embarrassed. Yes, me embarrassed. Can you imagine walking down a street at night in London dressed like this? Anyway, I tottered along for a bit then stood, looking into the window of a store. A small group of guys gathered near me, some smiling, some serious, and some digging each other in the ribs and sniggering. None came within ten feet of me though. It was like a show but I wasn’t there for a show so I turned around and smiled at the boys. Now, I don’t speak Japanese and they didn’t speak English so it was ‘difficult’.

They just gawked and none would approach me. They just stared. If this continued I wasn’t going to get anywhere and I had a party to get to in just over an hour. Kishi had given me a few words to try, like virgin boy, and when I said them most of the boys walked away, a few backed off looking nervous, and a few stayed and kept gawking. It wasn’t really working though. You know how you just know when something is going well? So I walked a little further down the street and came near a café where a bunch of guys were hanging out, exchanging what appeared to be colourful cards of some sort. I just strolled along and one by one, my little entourage dropped away.

I was nearing the corner of the street when a small voice said “Excuse”. From beside me a guy, he must have been around twenty, stood. He was kinda moving from foot to foot like someone who really needs to go to the bathroom. His hair was a little messy, his clothes non-descript, a stereotypical geek. I almost laughed, more from surprise than anything. Anime fanboys are like that I guess. Anyway, his English was broken but I could understand most of it. Roughly what he said was “boy..virgin..fuck..ok?”

Time was getting shorter and he was nice enough so I took his hand and led him to the little place my friends had found. I took the guy inside the barely lit room with its bed and basin. He took out some money and I waved it away. Jesus, he thought I was a whore. No way was I taking money for this.

I started to undo my skirt and he stopped me. “Like this” he said and pointed to my costume. He wanted the whole fantasy thing it seemed so I just slipped out of my panties and handed them to him. He put them to his face and took a long breath in. “For you.” I told him, and he laid them out carefully on the side of the basin.
His cock was pressing hard against his pants and I unzipped him and slipped it out. Not a bad length. Already there was a bead of cum seeping from the eye and when I took it in my mouth I could feel it was ready to burst. At that point I couldn’t really think what taking a guy’s virginity would mean. I guessed it was putting it inside a pussy so I took my mouth away and rolled a condom onto his dick. I walked over to the bed, laid down and spreading my legs and he took my lead. Just before I guided him into me I said “slow”.

The rubber helped a little to desensitize him and he did go quite slowly but within not more than thirty seconds he tensed, made a gasping guttural sound and collapsed onto me. Well, I’d completed my challenge but there was no way I was going to let this guy go without having a little more fun, and now I was horny too. He apologized over and over and I put him at ease with repeated oks. I guided his mouth down to my pussy and moved his head a little to show him how I liked to be licked. Credit to him, he wasn’t bad for a first timer. It took a while but he was determined and after ten minutes or so I came. When I started to cum he pulled away and stared but I grabbed him and shoved his mouth back onto my cunt. If I didn’t finish cumming I’d be cranky all night and no way was I letting that happen.

After I came I handed him another condom which he slipped on, and I guided his cock into me again. This time he lasted a little longer and I was still sensitive from my orgasm so I came again which made him cum. He fucked me hard as he came and that just took me over the top into another one.

We both cleaned up and I showed him out the door, reminding him to take my panties. He was smiling as he left.

A few minutes later I phoned my friend who brought a bag with my party clothes inside and I changed out of the maid’s costume, then walked out into the street, recalling, to her, what happened. We jumped in the car and off to the party.

Tokyo underground party - September 23rd

2006-09-25T08:46:00.000+01:00

It was a first for me. In Tokyo, there is an underground life far greater and more bizarre than anything you might have seen in the light of day. This weekend I was invited, together with a friend, Kishi, to a theme party. We weren’t told what is was going to be except that we needed a mask, to be worn at all times, and no inhibitions.

My girlfriend Yumi had refused to go, partly because there would be mostly men there and mainly, because she’d be out of town on assignment.

Kishi is a friend of the people who organized the living sculpture thing I did on my last trip to Japan. She is down with a lot of the underground events that run throughout Tokyo, organizes some, but mostly just participates. She’s a favourite with men because she’s local and has pale skin, and is large-breasted. She also is one of the coolest people I have ever met. Nothing fazes her.

OK, so we took a car to the venue for the party. A tall, industrial looking building with a big steel door met us along with two men who explained that we would now need our masks. It was all dark and secretive and really reminded me of that ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ movie. Kishi whispered in my ear that it was cool.

Through the door music pumped and a crowd of maybe two hundred people danced in a huge mass while others stood to the side, nursing drinks and chatting, or rather yelling over the sounds. Some wore designer, some thrift tat, and others almost nothing; while a few small groups wore nothing at all. One thing they all shared was that they were all masked.

During the evening there were small events, set pieces I guess you’d call them. There was an area cleared for each performance and there were a few big plasma screens to show those further back what was going on. Half a dozen cameras captured every angle they could.

The first piece was an S&M thing. A guy was strapped across a table and three women took turns administering various tortures. Ball torture, nipple torture, candle wax, whips, that kinda thing, even a huge butt plug.

There was a lesbian show with the same three girls. It was a bit forced and frankly, looked fake. One particular chick made all the right sounds but her nipples never once got hard and her breathing was all wrong. A second lesbian show later was much better and everyone knew that they were not faking anything. I could smell the heat in those girls.

My piece, of which I was informed, only a few minutes before it was due to begin, came towards the end of the show schedule. It included myself, Kishi, and another girl, Ito. Up to this point, in all the pieces, all the girls had been local. Lucky me to be the exception. Behind a curtain our masks were replaced by thin, opaque, but sufficiently wide to conceal our identities, blindfolds. Handlers guided us to the ‘stage’ and laid us down on the mats. An announcer took to his microphone and announced, as Kishi translated for me, that this would be the promised bukkake and ‘cleansing’ piece. All men were invited to step up.

I have to praise them for their choice of music. It wasn’t the cheesy stuff I expected.

There was a signal to begin and within a minute or two of clapping I felt the first spatter of semen land on my face. Within a few more minutes my tits, legs, and stomach had been similarly spattered, and of course my face was receiving the largest amount. Being blindfolded I could only assume that Kishi and Ito were receiving the same. Time seemed to stand still as guy after guy steeped up and came over my body and face.

Then it ended. There was a buzzer and an announcement and I lay there, breathing heavily and not a little turned on. I heard Kishi’s voice next telling me what the announcer was saying. The total number of men who came on the three of us was ninety-six and from the shouting and cheering, it seemed that they must have reached their target.

Next the announcement came that they cleansing would begin. Moments later I felt the first gentle spray of water splash onto my body. It felt nice and I remember thinking how kind it was to use warm water. You’ve guessed it I suppose. That’s right. It wasn’t water. The cleansing was a call for anyone, man or woman, to clean the cum off our bodies with their piss. It first really hit home to me when I licked a splash off my lips and I tasted the salty, ammonia taste. The combination of alcohol and enthusiasm meant they pissed on our prone bodies for quite a while. When the final person had emptied their bladder, the three of use were led away again to some showers.

We scrubbed each other so clean we squeaked, then had our own mini party in the showers. We dressed again, refixed our masks and walked back out to the main room. A huge round of applause greeted us then subsided and the lights dimmed for the next show to begin.

Four hours later Kishi and I left in the car we’d arrived in and went back to my hotel. We were so exhausted that we kissed a little but just fell asleep in each other’s arms and slept so soundly.

Dubai - Journal entries April 26th

2006-04-28T07:12:00.000+01:00

Last day in Dubai, some more “places of interest” to visit today courtesy of the local big guys.
Walking’s a bit tricky this morning. If Rodney sees it, he’ll ask questions. A few stretches should do it, be right as rain.
If that guy wasn’t such a pig I’d go back for more. He was a great fuck but what a fucking pig!!! OK, over it now.
7.30am breakfast meeting. Can hardly stay awake and sitting is uncomfortable. Need a lie down.
9.45am into the limo and out to see “beautiful Dubai”. Kind of a parting gift from Sheik whatsisname.
Given some gorgeous fabric, loads of it. I know just the person to make some clothes back home. Note – get Judith to ship the fabric to xxx (not going to tell you my dress maker. Do I look crazy? Oh, and Judith is my PA)
A huge lunch. I’ve gotta bed one of these waitresses, they’re making me wet especially when they flash me that “I know you want to fuck me” look. bitches!
More meetings and planning sessions until 6.30pm. Early finish tonight. Tomorrow Capetown.
8.30pm on the terrace, having a quiet drink by myself. Sweet chick intro’ed herself as Shelley. Travelling with her parents as a kinda 18th birthday treat. They went out on the town but she didn’t want to go. A little freaked out by the whole Eastern thing. She’s from Oregan.
Nice chat. Lucky me, a curious girl.
In my room she was shy and didn’t know what to do with her hands. She was looking at the carpet, wall, out the window, anywhere but at me. She actually quivered a little when I touched her hand. She told me that she’d kissed a friend of hers at her house but that chick didn’t want to go further. It took some coaxing and I had to lead her all the way, I even undressed her. When we were on the bed and I stroked her she said she was dizzy and her whole body was red with embarrassment. She didn’t want to stop though. I ran my fingers all ver her body to sooth her and help her to relax. By the time I touched her pussy with my tongue, she came almost immediately. Poor Shelley was hesitant about putting her face near my pussy but she did her best and, in the end, she made me cum. It took a while because she stopped a lot to ask if she was doing it right. When I came she got really bold and then she was fine. She brought me to climax a few more times, some quite intense, and we spent the next few hours playing and talking and kissing. I can’t remember the last time I’d had such an innocent experience. We exchanged numbers and email addresses. I don’t expect to hear from her much. Now she’s gotten past her block, I’m sure she’ll be way too busy looking for some new tasty pussies. Good for her!
Around 11pm, Shelley showered, dressed, and went back to her room before her folks got back. I played a little, went for a walk to clear my head and around 12.30, went off to sleep. These early nights could become a habit.

Dubai - Journal entries April 25th

2006-04-27T04:51:00.000+01:00

Woke up in the nicest way this morning. A tongue on my pussy and hands all over me. Anna sure knows how to twist my knobs. I'm so tired now but it was totally worth it. She's flying back to Munich today so maybe we'll catch up later when I get to Germany. We swapped numbers.

You see, I've even started writing in this fuckin journal like it's for someone else to read. Well, I just scratch in entries normally.

Usual stuff again today. Had a lunch with some local dignitaries so we had a good meal at least. Again the waitresses were a lot more sexy than the hosts. I did get propositioned by one of the local government guys but I can't mix business with that kind of thing. Fucking is one thing, damaging the biz is another. He was pretty nice though. If it was outside of business I would have fucked him in an instant but I won't have it used as leverage later. Too dangerous. Girl's gotta keep her head. It's not just me it could hurt.

Made another business partner in the afternoon session. Sold the rights to use one of our brand names for a local business. Cost em big!

Dinner over by 9pm again and back out for a walk.

Met a local guy in a club. Flashy git, waving the bills around, but he was also charming. Took a risk and went back to his place. A bit off-putting when he ordered his wife to go out but no dick for a week, I was gagging for it!!! Guy was an athlete. He turned me around every way he could think of and fucked me in every place he could fit. He was good though when he calmed down enough to stop messing about and actually gave me a good hard fucking. Nice cock. Very very hard. Don't know how he kept going coz he pounded away at my cunt for almost an hour solid! By the time he came all over me in great hot strong spurts, my cunt was sore but still wet and he collapsed and went to sleep. I'd cum that many times I had a pain in my chest, and all though my back, from the twisting and writhing. It was after 2am when he finally woke up and had another, shorter, session, his time in m arse. I blew him til he came then he sagged back onto his bed, phoned for his car and waved me goodbye, out the door. No kiss, no seeing me to the door even. OK, we both used each other but fuck! A bit of courtesy is nice.

Back at the hotel by 3.45am, a little rest, some blogging.

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Dubai - Journal entries April 24th

2006-04-27T04:03:00.000+01:00

April 24th

Actually slept for a while, was so tired. Nice deam about that local girl. Not so innocent that one, not in the dream anyway.

8am breakfast. One of the waiters has the cutest arse.

9am out the door. Meetings all day again, except for inspection of one of their facilities. Commercial white building, no character. Get me out of here! Tea tea tea, no alcohol in sight. I'd kill for an Absolut!!!

Acquired a new music label. Biz finished at 7.30pm, dinne til 9pm. I'm outta here.

Hotel, dress, out, town.

OMG! Beautiful chicks everywhere and really cute guys! Gave some 'special' looks to a few chicks but they looked interested then nervous and looked away.

Strolled along the waterfront for an hour or so, clearing my head and back to the hotel, at least I can get a drink there.

Got chatting to a German chick in the bar. Very cool, husky voice. Pushed EVERY one of my buttons. Do not disturb sign on the door and a night of kissing, sucking, licking, and she had a big toy in her luggage. Brave girl! We got some use out of that. I haven't cum so much since Italy and Vanya!!!

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Dubai - Journal entries April 23rd

2006-04-27T03:32:00.000+01:00

April 23rd

Arrived to a much warmer place than I left. After the cool of London it's kinda weird in this heat. Dry and hot.

Hotel Burj Al Arab. Nice. Chopper from the airport, very cool. No time to look around today. Meetings all day until at least 7pm

Boring meeting, blogging at my sneaky end of the table. Wifi here is fast!

7.45pm dinner. Guest of some sheik with the other board members.

10.30pm dinner finished. Made eyes at one of the serving staff. Cute darkeyed girl. yummy.

11.15pm back to the hotel, alone. Too buggered to do anything anyway.

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My Italy Trip - Day 4 - March 6 - Venice

2006-04-10T11:11:00.000+01:00

Monday morning arrives. No work today and I’ve been released, at least temporarily, from my duties. To tell the truth I released myself by simply telling the office that I won’t be in for a few days. It’s good to be the queen.

The first thing I see when I wake up is Vanya lying on her back, arms above her head, in perfect peaceful sleep. Her nipples are pointing at the ceiling and they’re erect. She must be having a lovely dream. It is cold too though. Either way I can’t resist and I straddle her, holding her arms where they are, then I take a nipple between my teeth and flick it with my tongue. Her breathing gets faster and a little sound escapes her lips. She’s not awake but she’s digging what I’m doing. I realise she is awake though when her pusy begins rubbing against my thigh. Her slow grazing is rewarded by a nip on the nip. She just rubs harder, the dirty bitch.

Breakfast is simplicity. Vanya, naked, sipping grapefruit juice and munching on, almost burnt to a crisp, toast. Me, also naked, sipping tea that I found hidden deep, deep in V’s kitchen cupboard, and devouring, not quite so blackened, toast.

We tease and laugh and play until it’s almost time to hit the road for Venice. Showered and dressed, finally, the shower took a while, we swing by my hotel and grab my stuff, let Rodney know where I’m off to, and split.

There’s not much space in V’s car for my things. Italian sports cars are cute but they’re not built for luggage. Anyway, it got us to Venice real quick, in time for lunch. She wants to take me to a café she loves then she wants to introduce me to her dad. She says he loves English chicks and we can go out on his boat. He’s some kinda Baltic guy, Slovenian or something, with some business that lets him live in Venice. She reckons she told me all about it last night and I even put something on the blog about it, but who knows? I was kinda drunk.

We arrive in Venice, or rather Mestre that’s like the mainland bit of Venice, ditch the car and take the train across. No drama. It only takes a little while and when we get over the bridge, we leave the train and grab a water taxi to V’s place.
By the time we drop our bags off at her place and she finishes ordering the staff about, bossy bitch, it’s time to grab some lunch.

Lunch is just perfect, outside, a little chill but it’s right on the Grand Canal so we can relax and watch the water taxis and ferries going past. Vanya tells me a little more about her father. He’s got some kinda business she can’t exactly explain and, although it’s mostly in Eastern Europe, he spends most of his time here. He must have a pretty good organisation if he can run it remotely. V. ain’t telling and I ain’t asking. Some things you just don’t push. Anyway, what she wants to talk about is his boat. It’s some kind of big thing that he likes to take out into the Med. and have parties with friends and friends of friends. Well, yknow what’s what.

Something refreshing about V. is that she is so down-to-earth. She tells me that she’s not always invited to parties on the boat coz her father likes to take chicks out and fuck ‘em, usually in groups. I don’t want to tell her but he sounds like a sleaze. I’ve met so many guys like that. Old guys with bags of dosh who think they can fuck anyone they want coz they’re rich. Those arseholes aren’t exactly thin on the ground. London’s full of em. Well, if that’s what he thinks I’m about then he can think again. Sure, I’ll go on his boat but he better watch himself. Lucy doesn’t take any shit. If I want to fuck, I’ll fuck, otherwise, hands off.

Lunch takes longer than we expect but what a lovely way to spend an afternoon. I find I’m starting to really feel something for Vanya. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s strong. I like strong women and she’s around thirty, so older than me too. Something else I like. There’s a part of me that wants to be taken care of by someone who’ll take charge. It’s not always there but when it is, it consumes me. I touch her hand and she first looks down at it, then into my eyes. Her eyes give me the answer better than words could have. She’s into me too, maybe more than she expected. A chance meeting in a club doesn’t usually leave you with much afterwards.

So, lunch finished, we head on down to where V’s father’s boat is berthed. Christ, she wasn’t lying. This boat is big. I’ve been on a few boats in my time but this is bigger than those. It’s gotta be at least sixty feet. Well, I guess it’s not so huge but standing on the jetty beside it, it seems enormous. No wonder the chippies are impressed. To some chicks the sniff of dollars is more than enough to open their legs. Takes a bit more than a big wallet to move me though.

I’m still admiring this great piece of marine architecture and teasing V., who’s doing her best to look cool and urbane, the perfect Euro ice-queen, when a guy comes out of the boat’s rear doors. He’s tall, about fifty or so, maybe a little more, dressed in a light, casual linen suit, no tie, wearing sunglasses, and talking into a mobile phone. He finishes his conversation and walks over to V. They hug and do the Euro three peck thing, and then he turns to me. He removes his sunglasses and looks directly into my eyes. He turns to V. and asks, in a brusque fatherly manner, if she is going to introduce her friend. Introductions are made. He is, as I suspected, V.’s father. This man is gracious and sophisticated, not the sleazy, womanizing egotist I was expecting at all. His name is Oscar.

Oscar is disappointed that we’ve already eaten and offers us drinks instead. I comment on how impressed I am with his boat and he takes me for a tour. Below decks it sure is palatial. There’s like a full kitchen, big bathroom, some little bedrooms and a really big main bedroom, with its own bathroom attached. Nice. The cook doubles, he tells me, as his cook for home and the boat. The reason why he’s disappointed is that the cook had prepared lunch for all of us. Oscar hates waste and gets the cook to bundle up all the food and asks him to take it down to one of the churches. They’ll be able to use it. Cool guy.

As the afternoon gives way to evening, V. informs me that she has some business to see to, for her father, over in Mestre; and she must leave. Oscar mentions that he’s taking the boat out for a little party tonight and I’d be welcome to join him and his guests. I look at V. and try to read her eyes. Was this a setup? As she stands to leave I follow her to the gangway and challenge her. She assures me that it was not planned. She really does have business to do and it may take quite a few hours. I don’t have to stay for the party if I don’t want to. There are plenty of things to do in Venice at night and her father wouldn’t be offended if I left she tells me. I guess it could be fun and I’m not normally one to miss a party. Why not? Take it as it goes and just enjoy the cool evening air and the company of strangers.

Vanya and I kiss and she walks down the gangway and into the night. I turn back to Oscar who is holding his glass aloft and smiling.

We sit and talk for a while until I realise I’m dressed for a party. It’s now seven o’clock and the party begins at nine-thirty so I have time to do a little shopping. Many of the stores are closed but, with a few phone-calls, Oscar manages to have a few stay open longer for me. So I go off in search of a party dress and some nice shoes, and a little bling.

At the first store I’m met by one of Oscar’s house staff who, I am told, will take my things back to the house so I don’t need to carry them back to the boat when I change into the party things. I could get used to this. Back home I don’t have a staff. I prefer my little flat and my independence. All that hassle looking after a big house and a staff. Not my thing really. Besides, I’m on the go so much that the flat is all I need.

The first store is the cutest little boutique. Some of the things are a bit over-styled, and some are WAY over-styled, but I find a little dress with pretty flowers in a light, washed, floral pattern. It’s like a cross between Laura Ashley and a Japanese minimal kinda print. It comes to halfway up my thighs, tight in at the waist and spaghetti straps above a curving neckline that shows enough of my cleavage to be interesting.

Shoes are next and I immediately find a pair of pale green Prada pumps, one of my faves that go perfectly with the dress. Then, on to the jewelers for the topping. The have a lovely little watch with a teensy leather strap and long, narrow plain face. Ideal. I scan the display cases and see a necklace, fine white gold with a little half-carat diamond in a tiny setting. Minimal seems to be the theme for this evening. I’m ready to change then realise I’ve not gotten a bag. Another phone-call and, like magic, a bag place is suddenly opened right nearby. Fortunately for me, the owners live above the shop and not way over in Mestre. I quickly locate a little clutch that matches my shoes and I’m finished. I need to change clothes though, and I love this about Italians, they offer their place upstairs for me to get changed. Much kissing and thank-you’s later I’m on my way back to the boat and Nina, the housekeeper, is headed back, with my things, to Oscar’s, and Vanya’s, house.

When I arrive back at the boat there are a few people visible at the rear. They are holding drinks and chatting. I don’t see Oscar immediately but then he comes out of the salon with a bottle in his hand. As I totter up the gangway in my heels Oscar comes over and, taking my arm, he leads me over and introduces me to his guests. I’m assured that we’ll be under way shortly, as soon as one more couple arrives, which they do even as he says it. In all, there are three couples, Oscar and myself. Two couples are Italian, Ernesto and Maria, and Paolo and Myra. The other couple is Indian. I can only remember their short names, Vee and Sally. A signal from Oscar to the boat’s captain and we’re off, into the Meditteranean.

Dinner is a noisy and congenial affair. Wine flows and pasta and salads are trooped out of the kitchen. I feel a little out of place in some of the conversations because I am twenty-five and the others range, I would guess, from early forties up to late fifties. They mostly talk about business but I’m able to chat about fashions, business is for work, with Maria and Myra. Sally seems more interested in listening intently to every word her husband is saying, only commenting when she is asked for her opinion, which is very rarely. As dessert arrives, and more wine is consumed, things are more relaxed and talk turns to less serious topics. Vee mentions Sally’s imminent breast enlargement surgery. He insists that they need to be bigger and to poor Sally’s obvious embarrassment, he unhooks her halter-top and drops it to reveal his wife’s body, naked to the waist. He takes a hold of her breast and squeezes it. “You see,” he says “She has hardly a good handful.” Then Sally laughs and says to Vee, “It’s not my breasts you’re most interested in anyway, is it?” The others join in the laughter and the mood lightens a little. Oscar suggests we move into the salon, a chilly wind having whipped up, so we pick up our drinks and go inside.

Sally hasn’t bothered to lift her top back up and the men, livened up by the sight of Sally’s breasts and not an inconsiderable amount of alcohol, suggest all the women drop their tops. Myra, Maria and I exchange uncertain glances but then shrug, why not? It’s becoming obvious that we women are showpieces at this evening’s party and I’m curious to see how these older people enjoy themselves in this setting.

Maria is roundly admired for her very large breasts. Vee can’t take his eyes off them. Myra is similar to me, although her nipples are much bigger than mine. Well, of course I pipe up and suggest that we girls have had to drop our tops, then why not the men? They confer and then say no, they are men and want the women to be the ones who strip. “Sexist bastards!” I think. The wives show no sign of being upset and just smile at their respective spouses. Now I get the picture fully for he first time. We are more than showpieces, we are regarded as women in the old-fashioned sense.

I go over to Oscar and tell him quietly that I am not impressed with this behaviour. He chuckles a little and says, in a whisper, “Oh, I am so sorry. The theme of this party is the whore wife. I didn’t tell you?”
“No…” I say “…but it might have been nice to be told and besides, I’m not your wife.”
“You can be for the evening if you’d like” he says with a small smile.

I look around at the others and think that it might be fun after all. It’s just that I hate people making assumptions about me.

Oscar briefly explains what happened and the others all apologise and offer to leave. Just their being concerned and offering to go is enough for me and I tell them that everything is fine and I’ll be happy to be a part of their game.

The other women, having pulled up their tops, now drop them again. We are all now asked to stand and remove the rest of our dresses. Sally is first on her feet and her dress falls to the floor, revealing red, satin knickers. Myra and Maria follow suit, and stand in their respective cobalt blue thong and pink lace knickers. I stand last and drop my dress to reveal no knickers at all. My bald pussy startles the seated men, although they certainly don’t seem displeased. Oscar, especially, gives me an appreciative glance. I’m warming to him. Restrained and respectful, he’s not the sleaze I’d thought he would be.

My fellow wives are told to remove their knickers. Sally’s pussy is as bald as mine while Myra’s thatch of hair is heroic in its bushiness. Maria’s is trimmed into a neat triangle and is quite pretty. She can’t be less than fifty.

Things heat up more when the men take out their cocks and we’re told to suck them. As I take Oscar in my mouth for the first time I find him already quite hard and long, at least eight inches. Half a minute of so passes and we’re told that we’re not taking them deep enough and we’re to take them all the way. It’s ok for Myra and Sally, their husbands are quite small, but poor Maria and I. Eduardo, from what I can tell, is close to Oscar’s length. Maria has obviously done this before. She opens her mouth wider and after two or three attempts, takes Eduardo’s cock down her throat, all the way to the root. Not to be outdone I clear my thoughts, concentrate in opening my throat as much as possible and in one movement, I slide Oscar’s dick all the way down. We all suck for a few seconds longer then the order comes to swap. “Huh?” I think “I didn’t think this was gonna happen.”

Oscar explains so all can hear. We are to go to the cock to our right and suck it, then at the order, change to the next one to the right. It’s predictable I guess that, these being businessmen, they’ll do things in an ordered way. I like a little more chaos in an orgy but some part of me really digs being told what to do, especially by older men. One of my little fetishes I guess.

So there we are sucking and the men aren’t cumming. Pretty good for any guy really. Not blowing my own horn, so to speak, but I am very good at sucking cock. A guy usually doesn’t last long with me unless I want him to. Well, we’re sucking and I’m doing Paolo, last in the line when the call comes.

Each woman has to take the lube, one each, on the table and lube our arse, then go to our husband and sit on his cock. We have to fuck him hard until we hear “Change!” and move onto the next husband. I like this bit. You probably know from before that I love having my arse fucked so I’m fucking Oscar’s cock so hard that I can hear him grunting behind me from the effort and when the order comes, I get right onto Eduardo’ cock and fuck him just as hard as I had Oscar. Vee has a short cock but really, really thick. I don’t get the penetration I love with him but OMG, I get stretched a lot. By the time I get to Paolo, my arse is so loose that I just slide right down onto his short, thin cock and it’s not much fun for either of us, I’m sure, although he seems to be liking it.

Next is our pussies. Same thing again and this time I make Eduardo cum. He tries to hold back but I fuck him so good that he can’t control himself. His face turns red and he grabs my arse so hard when he cums that he leaves nail marks in my skin. I bleed a little but it takes me over the edge and I cum as well, bathing his cock in a flood of juice.

When all the men have cum and we’ve been ordered to clean them up with our mouths, we’re told to get down on the floor and perform for them. I go right for Sally and pull her legs apart. I’ve not been with an Indian woman before so this will be fun. Of course all of our cunts are still full of cum from the men but we’re ordered to lick and suck it out, then bring the woman we’re with to an orgasm before moving to the next one, to the right as always.

Sally was with Oscar last in our little musical cocks game so I get to taste Oscar’s cum. He’s a cigar smoker and I can taste a little bitterness in his cum. Still it’s quite thick for a man his age and creamy. I’ve heard that a guy’s cum gets really thin with age. Still, I guess fifty, or whatever he is, isn’t that old. Myra makes me cum the hardest. She is too skilful with that tongue to be an amateur. She’s done this before and more than once or twice. It’s like a dream and the air is filled with the sound of women cumming, some loudly, some, like Sally, a little whimper followed by a long sigh. While we’re doing this, I notice that the men are in a circle around us and they’re wanking. So, while us girls are licking each other’s cunts, we are being showered with cum from the men.

At the end we’re kissed individually by each of the men and sent off to clean up. They then shower and, as couples, we all go to our separate bedrooms. Oscar makes this slightly awkward moment easier by taking my hand and leading me to the master bedroom. “You can come with me.” He says.

I don’t know if he’d been taking Viagra but we made love all the rest of the night, falling asleep at what I think was around four o’clock. I felt his tongue on my pussy for the first time and he was so good. I’ve now widened my net. He told me, when I asked, that he was fifty-five years old. I learned something tonight. Never make assumptions. He was one of the best fucks I’ve ever had.

Four Guys, Two Girls, and a LOT of Lube !!!

2006-03-27T04:23:00.000+01:00

Picture this. Your little Lisa's sitting in front of the screen, typing a message when BANG! The door flies open and like a rubgy team (but not as many - thank god), in rushes a bunch of guys and a really really cute little dark chick.

I only have time to type the last word and click-send and they're on me. Dave's at the front with his, ever-fucking-present, rope. He and his mate Phil drag me over to the low armchair, bend me over it, and tie my arms down. So I'm there right, bare-arsed, coz I always go bare-arsed when I'm home, bent over a chair, my arse in the air, and a chick I haven't even been introduced to somewhere in the room.

My head's down now and all I can see is chair and carpet, and all I can hear is laughter and that sploogy sound of lube being squeezed out of a tube. Cold lube, and a cold hand starts rubbing it into my arsehole. It clenches tight when the cold fingers touch, then it relaxes and opens up a bit, then a bit more until whosever fingers they are can slip in, well three at least. Can you imagine?

The first cock pushes its head against the resistence of my arsehole. There's not much resistence and it slides in. There's always a tiny moment of pain when the muscle stretches but then it's pure bliss all the way. It's Dave, I know, coz he always goes first. Some kind of territory thing. Funny when you think about it really. *giggle* So, he's fucking me and I'm loving it. My eyes are closed and I feel a soft hand on my cheek. I stretch my head up to see the dark chick.

She's got the cutest face, all pouty, thick South American lips, skin so dark-tanned she can't possibly live here! She introduces herself as Rita (kind of an old name for this chick). So, we're talking about ourselves, she's holding my head up coz it hurts after a while, holding it up by myself; and all the time I'm bumping backwards and forwards as my arse is being fucked. I could feel my face getting so hot, from the being upside down kinda, and from getting more turned on by the second.

Rita has one hand down the front of her shorts (yes, shorts) and is playing with her pussy. She says she wishes she had a cock so she could fuck me too. Then I think of my strap-on in the drawer by my bed. She's off like a shot. Moments later, Dave's cock slips out of my arse and with a "hola honey", Rita is pushing at my arsehole with my big, black strap-on. I can hear the guys voices. They're impressed.

She must have done this before coz she pushes in and out of me without hurting. If you use a strap-on in someone's arse the wrong way, it can really hurt. She's panting hard and I don't imagine for a second that it's from the exertion. I can't look back but her rhythm changes suddenly. Then I feel a huge shove and it's like Rita's suddenly more powerful.

Dave's at my face and telling me what's happening. One of the other guys has grabbed a little low bench, yknow, one of those for putting on shoes and stuff, and he's put his cock in Rita's arse. So what I'm getting is this whole fucking train and me at the front, getting both of thier thrusts. Feels good. ;)

Over the next half hour or so, I'm fucked, still tied, by all of the guys more than once, and then they untie me. I get to finally meet Rita face to face and then face to cunt and face to arse and cunt to cunt, cock to mouth to arse to cunt. You get the picture. We were like a bunch of worms all fucking and sucking and cumming, on the floor. I've told you about Dave's mates before. They're deviates to a man but I know em all now and I trust em too. One of em has a cock that must be ten inches long. It's thick too and fuck, when that goes in my arse, it feels like a fucking tree in me. I ride him hard too. It's best when I'm on my back and pinned to the floor, my hands over my head, also pinned and that massive cock shoving into me. My cunt gets so wet I feel like I'll drown in it.

When everyone's had enough and we've smoked a J or two and feeling mellow, they all leave. All except, Rita. She stayed for the night and we had a lot more fun, just the two of us. A nice warm bath together and then bed, soft playing for the rest of the night, coming down nicely. I'm keeping in touch with her for sure. She's going back home in a few weeks so we'll have time to hang out. I'm sure I'll have more to tell and she read the blog. She'll read this too. That chick is so tasty and a total show-off.

My Italy Trip - Day 3 - March 5 - Milan

2006-03-18T03:22:00.000Z

Today is the final day in Milan. It’s been an exhausting few days already. Not the social stuff but the biz. If you’ve every sat through a meeting that’s boring or you don’t really know what’s going on, then try sitting from nine in the morning til seven or later at night with one meeting after the other. It is so tiring.

As soon as I’d left Ursula’s door and got into the taxi, I switched on my mobile. There were six voicemails. Four were from Rodney wondering where the fuck I was, and am I still alive. One is from Gino, the GM of our Italian division wanting to setup a meeting for lunchtime, and the last one is from Wendy in London, saying hi and asking if I needed to be picked up at the airport tomorrow. I’ve gotta tell you, Wendy loves driving. I got her a little black Mini for Christmas last year and ever since then, she’s forever asking if she can drive me places in it. It’s all kitted out with all the sports options. She’s got wide tyres and GPS, even one of those DVD players mounted in the dash, and it’s a drop-top. We ‘christened’ it the night I gave it to her and bloody hell, my back is still recovering. You can do a lot of things in a Mini but sex ain’t one of em.

I get Rodney sorted first coz I just know he’s going to be driving everyone mad asking if they’ve seen me. He gives me an earful for ditching him last night and I promise I won’t do it again. We both know it’s bullshit but he likes to hear it, anyway. If the board knew he lost me for a whole night, maybe even I wouldn’t be able to save his job. I assure him I’ll let him know the second I get to work.

Next is Gino. Now Gino is a pretty cool guy. He’s about forty-five and one of those smooth and sexy Italian business dudes, with the tailored suits and shiny shoes. When my parents died he was the first on the phone from Italy to offer his sympathies and even though he was only a middle ranking exec back then, it meant a lot, especially when the, then, GM didn’t call until the next day. When the old GM retired and I was asked which of our Italian staff should get the gig, he was the first one I thought of and he’s impressed all the way. Of course, it wasn’t just my choice and the board had to discuss candidates and approve too, but his CV made him perfect for it. Anyway, so I call Gino. He’s got some stuff he wants to talk about but not in the office. He says it’s a little personal. No, he doesn’t want to fuck me. I love him dearly but he’s like an uncle. We’re family, Gino and me, and you don’t fuck your family; not in my world anyway. I’m kinda lucky like that. I’ve got a lot of family who aren’t really family at all.

By the time I’ve got all the calls sorted, I’m at the office. I pay off the taxi and just as I’m flicking the speed-dial on my mobile for Rodney, he comes striding out of the building. He gives me a good-natured nudge with his elbow and tells me to be good today. Like a good daughter I agree. How long that’ll last, who knows, but for now he can breathe a bit easier.

Today is decision time on a bunch of projects but luckily, the board is going to take care of most of these in London. We need to eliminate the more insane bidders from yesterday’s presentations. The Ghostly Italian dude makes it through to the next round of proposals although he won’t be told until later in the afternoon. It’s always been a policy of the company to make people sweat a bit. Sux but it’s been like that for a really long time.

During the morning session, Ursula phones to see if I’m free for lunch. I tell her I have another arrangement and can’t make it but how about dinner? OK, she says, and I get back to the meeting. Twenty minutes later she calls again to ask who I’m having lunch with. I tell her it’s a colleague and she’s cool again. Altogether before lunch Ursula has called seven times, each one is to ask a different question. She seems pretty anxious but maybe that’s normal here. Eventually, despite all the interruptions, we get through the final selections and they’re sent to the board for their opinion. They won’t get back to us before three. We break for lunch at one o’clock and I take a taxi to the restaurant to meet Gino. Rodney follows close behind and today, to his relief no doubt, I don’t try to ditch him.

While I’m having lunch with Gino, Ursula calls again and again. Eventually, I switch my phone off and Gino tells me what he wanted to discuss. Luckily it’s not really a serious thing, just some confusion that’s easily set right. Here’s the weird bit though. During our coffees following a lunch of grilled halibut and salad, Ursula walks into the restaurant and up to the table where Gino and I are sitting. She makes some shitty comment about being blown off for some Italian cock, ignores Gino who is right beside her, and shakes her finger at me. I hadn’t really expected this kind of shit from her and now Ursula is totally pissing me off. I tell her that she’s right out of order and if she doesn’t piss off immediately, I’ll have the restaurant guys throw her out. Her face turns the brightest red I’ve ever seen on a person and slams out of the place.

Gino is shocked and I tell him a little of why she’s so shitty but after a few short comments, we agree that she was way over the top. I’ve decided to let her know that we’re finished by the time G. and I finish our coffee. She’s not answering her mobile and it’s too early for her to have gotten back home so I figured I can wait. I have to get back to the office anyway. It’s going to be a heavy afternoon.

Once work is done, after seven o’clock again, all I want is to have something to eat, get back to my hotel, have a long bath and head out. Ursula’s still not answering her phones, home or mobile, but fuck her. Who needs it?

I’m out looking for a cab just after 10pm. Luckily, taxis are drawn to my hotel like moths to a bright light. It only takes a few minutes ‘til one pulls up. You ever get a feeling that someone’s watching you but when you look, there’s nobody there? Spooky, huh? Well, I had that right then. Must be tired, I thought.

So I’m in the cab and trying to decide where to go. Propaganda was pretty cool and it’s starting point at least. Off I go to Propaganda feeling really free and fresh after my lovely bath.

First thing is a stolly, next is getting all sweaty again after spending an hour getting clean. Oh well. Anyway, I’m there right, sweating and dancing with this cute blonde guy and just feeling the whole vibe. Smooth. Then a hand on my shoulder. I get spun around and it’s Ursula. “What the fuck you play at, huh?” she shouts.

“Huh?” I say and keep moving to the sounds.

“Why you don’t wait for me?” she shouts, louder this time.

“Hey, you act like a psycho and then don’t answer your fuckin’ phone. What am I sposed to do? I shout back.

Well, it all gets ugly and Ursula throws a punch. Rodney’s right there and grabs her arm before she can connect and marches her to the exit. Thank fuck I didn’t ditch him tonight. I walk over to where he is and he says “What do you want me to do with her? Cops?”

“Nah” I say “Just make sure she doesn’t get back in.”

“You OK?”

“Yeah, cheers Rodders.”

So back at the hotel, that feeling I had. Maybe that was her. Who knows? I get back into the groove and relax again. Takes more than some psycho to kill Lisa’s good time.

I get a lift to another club with some local guy. He seems ok and I know Rodney’s nearby. Maybe just for tonight I’ll keep him on the trail.

More stollies, more dancing, sweating, dancing, stollies, and I’m feeling really mellow. Business is over for this trip and I’m back home tomorrow.

And then up walks this chick!

She is cute! She’s not just cute. She’s jaw-dropping, what the fuck was I just doing?, brain-destroyingly HOT! I mean this chick has got that Eastern European cold, sizzling at the same time, look. Blue-grey eyes that could slice you in two. She knows every eye is on her and she just does her own thing. Fuck what you think!

She stops in front of me. “Hey.” A flashed, subtle smile. Her left eyebrow raised. “Drink?”

Now, I don’t normally fumble over words but…”Umm…yeah..stolly..rocks..umm..cheers.” That’s as far as I get and she’s gone, off to the bar, the sea of dancers and drinkers parting in front of her. OMG!

You ever see a chick so gorgeous that you just about have to chew on your fist so you don’t scream?

The parting sea signals her return. “Vanya!” she shouts over the music.

“Lisa” I take the drink.

We drink and dance in silence. I’m checking her out in as subtle a way as possible. She’s examining me like a scientist examines and an insect; or rather like a spider examines a fly. Nobody makes me feel like this. I’m the hunter, no matter what the other girl or guy may think! That’s my way. Not now though. I feel like prey.

When she takes my hand and leads me through the crowd, past the bar, and after a quick nod to the barman, out into the rear alley behind the club, and I just follow in her wake. I’m powerless.

She slams me up against the grimy, dark brick wall and prepares to devour my mouth. One hand grabs hard at my crotch and I feel sparks fly and my head spins. Her tongue is in my mouth and I meet it with equal vigour. We’re both panting, rasping. My cunt is soaking her fingers that probe inside me, though my knickers. I’m almost cumming and she takes her hand away, and her mouth.

“Wanna come back my place?” she asks, cool as ice with a hint of mischief.

I just nod and we walk out of the alley, Vanya striding ahead.

A small red glow catches the corner of my eye and there’s Rodney, having a fag and trying not to look at me. He always gets embarrassed when he sees me getting on. He raises his eyebrows and points his eyes in Vanya’s direction in a way that means ‘you ok?’ I smile and nod. He stubs out his smoke and makes his way to his car, keeping to the shadows.

Vanya’s black sports car is growling in an instant and we’re off.

Within minutes we’re at her hotel. She throws the keys to the valet and saunters into the huge lobby. She checks for messages at the desk and heads for the lift. I’m following like a puppy all the while and she just assumes I’m with her. She doesn’t look back. There’s no need and she knows it.

In the lift she watches me. Looking me up and down her eyes stop when they meet mine and she smiles. This time her smile is much warmer. We just regard each other and ding! We arrive at her floor.

Once inside her room she is a different person. Her smile broadens, softening her eyes’ cold glare. Her coat and scarf sail across the room and land on a chair. She prepares a drink at the small bar and tells me to undress. I comply and when I am standing there naked, in the middle of her living room, she hands me a drink. Her eyes appraise me as one would a piece of art. She simply nods approval and smiles again. And then she, with the air of one who has done this many times, removes her clothes. She walks over to a voluminous armchair and sits, hips forward, legs spread wide. I don’t need instructions here. In a second I am on my knees, face in her crotch, my tongue beginning its journey into the depths of Vanya.

Her orgasm is slow to arrive. It builds a little at a time from a barely noticeable flutter, to ripples, to a faster and faster rise and fall of her belly, and then a flood of sound and movement. Her knuckles are white as she grasps the arms of the chair. Her breath is ragged. A moan builds from low in her chest to become a howl as she releases everything inside of her. My face is wet all over from her cum and her release of piss as she loses control. Her whole body flushes red and she tries to push my face away, but I’m having none of it. I keep my tongue hard at work, teasing and tracing her bright pink lips. She comes twice more before she finally forces my face away by closing her legs tight.

We’re at each other all night, neither of us sleeping at all, until, in the early hours of morning, we collapse.

When my mobile rings at nine o’clock I can barely see who’s calling. It’s Rodney. He’s down in the lobby, ready to take me to my hotel and then to the airport. Vanya stirs and asks who it is. When I tell her I have to fly home she insists I go with her to Venice, at least for a few days. Last night was so good. How could I resist? So I tell Rodney to cancel my flight and to call Wendy to let her know that I’ll be delayed a few days. He’s cool with it and only asks how I’m getting to Venice and when. I say I’ll call him later in the morning. I hang up and feel a hand on my breast. No more sleep then.

Kris's Challenge - It was a blast. Suggestions for another one? You're all welcome.

2006-03-13T05:44:00.000Z

Background

While messaging online (That was on Friday 10^th March btw), a friend and I were discussing how I’d tried a lot of things and that I was always thinking of something new to try. I asked Kris to give me a challenge and this is what he came up with.

The Challenge

Go out, dressed as a guy, and chat up girls…and try to pull one. (Oh yeah, to you people who might not know. In England, to pull someone is to successfully ask them out, or home).

Sounds easy enough right? I did it but it was complicated to organize and really, really hard to get the guy thing right. See what happened.

What Happened

Setting up

Something like this needs some planning. Can you imagine if I just threw on some guy’s clothes and went out on the street? “Hey, that chick’s dressed like a guy.”

First thing, I called an old mate Patrick. He’s a make-up artist for TV and movies and stuff. It took about two hours (you reading this Mr Challenge Man?) of make-up and some artificial stubble, strapping my tits down, and all kinds of other bollocks to make me passable as a fella. Then Patrick had to teach me how to move like a guy. Now, as you’ve probably guessed, Patrick is gay. That’s a gimme. Well, he may be gay but he’s not a girly gay. If you didn’t know or had your gaydar switched off you’d think he was straight, not macho straight but a regular guy.

So, he watched me walk, laughed and slapped his forehead. Over the next hour or so he coached me. By the end he seemed happy enough that I could get away with it for a night, maybe a few hours. The voice was next. My voice is soft but not that breathless, brain-dead model soft. I can drop it a bit and growl, specially when I’m horny. Patrick pretty much told me that if horny worked to lower my pitch, then think horny. I’m laughing as I write this part coz, come on, how hard do you think it is for me to think horny? It’s my natural state. Come on, Patrick, what kind of dick are you? Duh!

Last bit was what to wear. That part was easier. Just standard guy going out to dance gear. Yeah yeah, I hear you but really, how much trouble does your average guy go to? Just chuck on whatever’s nearby. A cap to hide my rolled up hair and ready. Sorted.

On the town

I had to travel pretty far from home coz people know me around here and I didn’t want to get tumbled right at the start. How the fuck am I going to get away with this? Anyway, I found a club that was pretty packed and figured I’d better get into the whole thing or else I was going to freak and bail. First off I grabbed a lemon stolly then thought “Oh fuck!”, ditched the chick drink and got a lager. How do you know how to do this shit when you’ve never done it before? How does a guy pull? Then it came to me. Fuck it, I’ve been pulled that many times, I just gotta like reverse it.

The first coupla chicks give me the “oh please!” look and turn away. Yeah, it’s funny how good you get at ignoring guys when you’re in a club with your mates. When it’s late it’s worse coz they’re all pissed (drunk) and it’s harder to get em to take no for an answer. So I’m there and scoring a big zero, but I keep trying. Sorry guys. You must think we’re the biggest bitches but look at it from our point of view. A hundred dicks with fellas attached wandering about trying to get a fuck before the music stops and there’s us, looking to them like we’ve got a huge sign over our heads saying ‘FUCK ME’.

Anyway, I found one chick who was a little pissed herself and started chatting. She was slurring her words a bit and she kept saying how I was soooo sensitive and not like other guys. We wound up snogging a bit but after a while she got up to go for a piss and just didn’t come back.

Now it was getting late. I was standing around thinking I didn’t care if I pulled or not. It’s a challenge, not a contract so sorry Kris, I’m outta here. Up went the bottom of my glass of lager, the fifth or sixth of the night, I lost count, downed like water. OK, home time. I’m almost out the door, feeling the cold air blasting in from the windy street outside and I see this sad looking chick sitting by herself at a table in a darkened corner by the door. She looks up, gives me one of those downhearted “oh hi” kind of smiles and drops her eyes back to the glass in front of her. She’s picking at her fingers and really looking empty. Just another depressed chick I think. Probably dumped by her boyfriend or stood up. Who knows? When you go to as many clubs as me you see it all the time and these chicks wind up being as familiar as the long bar or the thumping music.

I think ‘why not’ and gesture to sit down. She gives me that ‘whatever’ kind of sideways flick glance and goes back to examining her glass.

“I’m Chris” I say

“Julie…Jules” she replies.

“Drink?”

“Yeah, alright…” Her eyes brighten a tiny bit “…Baileys and milk” Her voice carries no enthusiasm but at least she’s talking.

“Be right back” I say and wade through the dicks and chicks back to the bar.

When I get back she seems to have gotten her shit together a bit and actually smiles at me. She thanks me when I hand her the drink and we make conversation. Turns out she was supposed to meet her boyfriend Rick here but he phoned her about twenty minutes before I saw her to say he wasn’t coming. Something to do with a car and some weed. He pulls this shit all the time according to Jules. She wants to dump him but “…you know?” Yeah, I know. She’s got a dipshit for a boyfriend but at least she’s got one. This kind of sad bullshit goes on every day. Chicks hanging around coz they’re too fucking down on themselves to imagine they’re worth more than the crap they’re handed. So there she is, sitting at a table in the corner of a trance-thumping club feeling sorry for herself and trying to find the strength to get up and go home.

It takes a while but after the usual “…so what do you do?...” chat, she puts her hand on mine and says “I really like you. Thanks for talking to me.” Thanks! Like I’m doing her a favour. This chick really needs to get some bottle. No wonder her boyfriend treats her like shit.

Long story a bit shorter, I ask her if she’d like to come home with me. She makes a show of hesitating and “How can I, I’ve got a boyfriend…” and then says yes, of course.

Once in the door of my flat, she lunges at me like a hungry wolf and we wind up on the bed. We’re kissing and grinding at each other and I’m running my hands all over her body. I can feel she’s wet, right through her knickers. She’s panting and groaning and the temperature in the room is getting to critical.

Then she puts her hand between my legs and everything stops.

Her eyes go through about a thousand emotions in the blink of an eye. First, confusion, then fear, anger, more confusion, then outrage.

She says something about not being like that and wriggles around a bit, making her way off the bed and then I touch her wet pussy again. She raises her hand to slap my hand away but instead she pushes it harder against her. I pull her back towards me again and the look in her eyes again cycles, but this time it goes from confusion, to resignation, then to lust.

Jules fucks my hands until she cums, and cums within seconds strangely enough. She overcomes her prejudice quickly and we spend the next few hours bringing each other to climax after climax. The first time her tongue rubbed against my pussy was the first time she’d ever done anything at all like that with a woman. Even when she was a kid, she told me, she’d never felt any kind of desire to even try it. By the end of the night I think she was converted.

She asked if I’d be her girlfriend if she fucked Gary, her boyfriend, off but Christ, the last thing I need is some chick who attaches herself to the next thing that comes along. She rings me every day and just about an hour ago, while I was in the middle of writing this, she called to say she’d dropped Gary coz she’s met this “…really nice girl who thinks I’m lovely…” Shit, she sure loves riding that roundabout. I hope this chick she met isn’t just a female copy of Gary but she probably is. Some chicks never learn.

So Kris, I did it. Anyone got another challenge? Once I get over this flu, I’m ready to take the next challenge.

My Italy Trip - Day 2 - March 4 - Milan

2006-03-09T16:24:00.000Z

Saturday morning, bright and early. OK, not so bright and not as early as it should have been. Hung over and dressed in the same clothes I’d worn out the night before, not exactly right for a business meeting, I dragged my poor sorry arse into the building, past the fucking hangers-on falling over themselves to be nice to me, queen of the dancefloor and feeling like shit. If I’d been a secretary you can be sure I would have been out on my same sorry arse looking for a new job. Sure, power has privileges but I didn’t care right then. All I wanted was a nice lie down, an ice-pack and possibly a largish bucket.

So, you’ve got the picture. Lisa, under the weather and nobody with enough spine to say boo to her fucking highness, heir to the empire. Blech!.

Rough agenda here. From 9 til 10.30 strategy. 10.45 til 12.00 budget reports and some kind of economic shit I didn’t get. 12.00 til 2.00 lunch. In my case it was a lie down with some vitamin B, the largish bucket mentioned earlier, curtains drawn, and a raging argument right outside my door. What did I do? Turned into Megabitch as one does, threw the door open and gave the loud bastards such an earful that they scurried away cringing. Nobody fucks with Lisa when she’s not well. As it turns out, one of them was a contractor who had come to submit a proposal for some development or other. You should have seen the look on his face when he was shown in to pitch for his project. Man, a ghost would have to use skin whitening cream for a year to be as white as that dude’s face.

From 2.00 onwards it was Developer Dick and his incredible vanishing pigment, some other guys who must have shit their pants when they saw him coming out of our meeting room, and rolling meetings and proposals and presentations until 7.30 when we broke up for the day.

I had dinner with a few of the guys and Rodney, my minder. Funny thing about Rodney. I always give him the slip and he’s supposed to keep an eye on me like around the clock. We’ve got this kind of arrangement now. He doesn’t chase too hard and I don’t end up dead. Seems to work so far. I kinda feel sorry for him though. He’s such a sweety to me and I ditch him first chance I get.

Right, so nine o’clock and dinner’s finished. I’m in a taxi blasting along the Via whatever and Rodney must be at least three blocks back, no doubt scratching his head and wondering how the fuck I ditched him so quick. A chick’s gotta have resources if she wants to have fun.

Oh yeah, I didn’t mention that between the shouting Italians and the afternoon meetings, Ursula called. You remember, the chick from last night. We’d arranged to get some dinner but that got screwed up so I told her I’d meet her at her place if she could tell the taxi driver where to drive to. OK, so I get to Ursula’s place and you can guess. Right. I’ve still got the clothes on from last night and I must stink. I pay off the taxi driver and Ursula rushes me inside. She starts kissing me and getting overheated but I push her away. Look, nothing’s happening until I’ve had a shower at least.

Predictably, I’m in the shower and in less than a minute I’m not alone. At least the chick seems to have got the message and she’s calmed down a bit. I relax when she takes the loofa and starts washing my back. There’s nothing urgent here. I soap myself and wash my tits and stomach and pussy while Ursula’s behind me taking care of my back and arse and legs. My breathing slows. This is more like it.

I drift in silence through my own little world while Ursula’s hands wander around, calming and soothing me. Her hands are on my bum then her tongue is snaking its way around my areshole. It’s fine. It’s ok. My breathing quickens again. My face feels hot and I bend forward a little. The warm water’s streaming down my body while Ursula’s fingers are walking forward then sliding along the folds of my pussy.

When she touches my clit it’s like someone’s thrown something electric into the water. My nipples prick up, my face flushes hot. My stomach kinda grabs and I bend further forward coz my legs won’t quite hold me. I have to explain. Ursula has one of those showers that’s over a bath so we’re standing in an old bathtub, one of those high-sided things from like years ago. Lucky for me coz I can sorta lean my elbows on the end of the bath.

She pushed my legs further apart so she could get her face up into my pussy. Then it was that it happened. I came and I mean I came hard, real hard. Maybe it was the tension of the day or something. I dunno but it hurt so much, that hard cramping kind of climax that I pissed on Ursula’s face. All over her face. She was great though. She just kept licking me and flicking me with her tongue. The bitch just kept going and I just kept cumming and pissing. I was shaking so bad that my legs buckled under me and I came crashing down onto the poor chick.

Nothing fazed Ursula though. She waited til I stop quivering too much and took my hand and led me to the bedroom where I flopped down onto the bed and went straight to sleep.

I woke up at about two in the morning on my stomach with a pillow under my belly and Ursula’s fingernails running up and down my spine and circling around my pussy.

When I realized where I was I rolled over and looked at Ursula. She smiled and I smiled and then we were at each other, tearing at each other’s tits and kissing like it was some kind of treasure that’d been lost for a really long time. Our tongues wrestled. Our lips ground together. She reached over and grabbed something out of the top drawer of her bedside table. It was a black rubber strap-on cock. I grabbed it from her and told her “No way bitch, this is mine!”

I pushed her onto her back, held her down with my knee, strapped on the cock then took her arms, forced them over her head so she couldn’t move, lubed her up from a tube on the table and fucked her hard. She came and came and came. She had to beg me stop after her a while coz she couldn’t stand it anymore. So I let her rest.

When we got enough energy back we showered again and slid into bed again. This time we just kissed, held each other and went to sleep.

This time the alarm was set and the morning wasn’t the moment of blind panic on waking that it was yesterday. Breakfast, kisses, dressed, more kisses, taxi called, then work by nine.

My Italy Trip - Day 1 - March 3 - Milan

2006-03-08T01:38:00.000Z

This is the first day here and I don’t want to put you to sleep with all the details of the meetings I had to have for most of the day. YUK!! Enough to say that they were long and boring and full of tiny detail that I have to know about but would rather not know. All the “yes Miss, no Miss, may I help, Miss?” shit is just too much!!

OK real quick for you girls and guys who don’t know. I’m sposed to be learning the family business and I have to take it over in a couple of years. I can’t really say what it is here, but it’s some pretty heavy and involved shit so the bean counters and minders and assorted wallys are trying real hard to teach it to me. Nuff said about that. :(

Once all the business shit was over it was pretty late so I grabbed some dinner and headed out to find the best place to party. Course nothing gets started til late so I just hit a coupla bars to kinda scope out the town. By the time it got to party time like around 11 I was quite pissed (oh that’s drunk to any Americans reading this). After dinner I started with light beer but by party time I was on Stollys. I wasn’t too fucked up but I had that kinda warm and a bit fuzzy buzz . Yknow what I mean.

Somehow I ended up at a club called Hollywood Rythmoteque with a guy called Luigi (I shit you not that was his name). We danced for a while but my arse was sore from being grabbed by guys on the dancefloor so we found ourselves outside and looking for a new place. Luigi had a car so we headed off in search of some cool clubs. On the way he kept reaching across and grabbing my tits. He was nice though so I didn’t take his hand away. Anyway, I was horny and like I said I was a bit pissed. He nearly crashed us off the road when I went down on him. He had to pull the car over and right there in the middle of fuckin downtown Milan he dragged me over into the back and fucked me. It was ok I guess but he had a really small cock and I had my head squashed up against the door handle until he came and we were back in front and off driving again.

We landed at Café L’Atlantique next. That’s a cool place. Kinda new and lotsa beautiful chicks in really really tight gear. I danced with a few guys but after a while it was just chicks. Now you’re gonna think I’m a real bitch but I wound up ditching Luigi and went to another club called Propaganda that’s just brilliant with one of the chicks, Ursula. We danced and drank and snogged on the dancefloor until maybe 3 o’clock and she asked me to go home with her.

Ursula’s place was tiny but it had a balcony with a bit of a view. We leaned on the railing for a while talking til it got way too cold and we went to bed. She was real nice and just kinda held me til we got warmed up. It was such a warm feeling to be wrapped in her arms. It’s not my usual style but we played with each other real slowly and came just as slowly then just drifted off to sleep.

The morning was like that Hugh Grant movie. I looked at the clock beside the bed and jumped up. All I could say was “fuck fuck fuck”. It was 8 in the morning and I had a meeting at 9 and didn’t know where the fuck I was. Ursula woke up and wanted to play but I just told her I had to go quick. She was so cool about it. She got up and drove me back to my hotel on her scooter. Yeah don’t worry I got her number. More about her later. ;)