Saturday, 16 May 2020

16th May 2020

Wow - so this is the 50th of my 'daily' posts since the coronavirus shit hit the whirling fan of society.  When I started it no-one was sure how long it was going to last - in truth, I thought I'd be unlikely to have done fifty posts.  And it gets more confusing by the day, or at least by the 'official' advice.

I went around to see a friend the other day... however, we had to stand outside as of course 'officially' I can't go in his house... unless I was his cleaner, in which case I could, according to said 'guidelines'.  What if your cleaner is also your friend, though?  Would you have to interact in a purely 'non-friend' way to stop the virus spreading?  It would be like barking cleaning instructions to your visitor like some suburban Dominatrix.  Hmmm, now there's an idea...  It would only work if my gentleman friend was to visit me, though, as he's a lovely sub-masochist chap... so he'd have the apron, and I... well, I'd have the leather and thigh boots - which of course are already waiting in the wardrobe.  He'd have to bring his own apron though - come on, do I really look like the type of lady who has an apron?

The 'difference' (and I really hope that the virus understands this bit as it's quite important) is that one is a friendly visit, the other is to attend a 'place of work'.  It's a well-reasoned, balanced scientific viewpoint - if maybe you are on a tiny insignificant world orbiting MACS J1149+2223 Lensed Star 1 where perhaps physics, flora and fauna and even viruses behave differently, but just not one that makes a whole lot of sense on planet Earth.  Does that mean I can do 'outcalls', then, as that also is a 'place of work' I wonder?

Anyway... on to today.  The 16th May.  Lovely weather, which will continue exactly up until the lockdown properly ends, then it will rain.  Endlessly.  Today's photo is one I looked at a few times and thought about posting.  Two things stopped me, though.  1 - it's rude and explicit, (and bizarrely I rarely post such smut... hahahaha!), and 2 - for the life of me I couldn't remember what the hell the photo was recalling or why it was taken.

And then, (in that odd way the brain works), without especially thinking about it, a night or two ago I remembered.  So, to commemorate hitting 50, something sexy and sleazy today.  And a nice link back to the leather and thigh boots of my cleaner-Dominatrix side...

Back between 2007 and 2011 I regularly attended various rock clubs around Manchester - especially Jilly's and Caged Asylum.  On one such visit it was quite a large group that I joined in the busy club - someone's birthday, I think.  I ended up chatting to a handsome young friend of one of the guys I knew - I hadn't met this particular guy before, but he was clearly smitten by my leather thigh boots and rock-chick-meets-Dominatrix look.

The flirting was just on the edge of becoming more explicit, however, when the smaller group he was with decided to move on to another bar.  In real cougar-style I simply handed over my phone number and said "If you want to fuck, give me a call tomorrow."

He rang mid-morning the next day, taking a break from his plastering and painting.  He was a little nervous and unsure of how to carry on the conversation, so I simply asked him if he was coming around.  "I finish work at 3.30pm," he said.  I gave him my address, and told him I'd wear the leather and boots from my outfit the previous night.  I took some cruel pleasure in knowing he'd struggle to concentrate on work after that.  In comparison, I had some time to get ready.  I showered, shaved where it mattered, make-up (slightly slutty red lipstick) and perfumed, then slid into my little leather corset and high-heeled thigh boots.  My lustful cunt was dripping with anticipation.

At 3.45pm my doorbell rang.  I buzzed him into the apartment block and waited until there was a tentative knock at the door.  I opened the door, wearing just the corset (which only covered my waist, not my tits) and boots... pussy and breasts ready for pleasure.  I pretty much dragged him into the apartment.  He smelled of manual labour - sexy sweat and minty chewing gum.  I kissed him hard, my tongue thrusting into his mouth.  In seconds his paint-splattered t-shirt was off and I was unbuttoning his jeans.  His cock strained against the tough denim, and I teasingly stroked it through his jeans before finally sliding down the zip.

His hard cock sprung out at me and I wasted no time in getting my lips around it.  I could feel the blood pulsing through his cock as I sucked him, my mouth sliding over the thick head of his cock whilst my hand wanked his steely shaft.  I wanted fulfilling too, though - or at least just filling.  I laid back on the carpet and spread my thighs.  He lowered his head to my pussy, but I didn't want that.  "Just fuck me," I commanded.  He slid effortlessly into my slicken oiled pussy and fucked me there, pumping his hardness into me, his pistoning cock hitting all the pleasure spots and rousing my orgasm to a thunder.  I came, came again, and again, my thigh boots wrapped clinging around his perspiring body.

He came, grunting and pumping, the last thrusts reaching ever deeper into my hot and juiced pussy.  Sated, we disengaged.  There was little small talk - I'd had what I needed, and so had he.  He left shortly after, and I never saw him again.

Dripping with pleasure, I took a little selfie to recall my afternoon of sordid sluttery... and around ten years later, remembered it all again.

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