Did I leave you all hot are horny? Are you imagining what I had on under my skirt? I'm secretly hoping you do.
Picking up from where I unceremoniously left off and kept you coming back for more. Yes, he did carry me into the toilet, the gents to be precise and I was trembling in excitement and my heart was beating nervously against my push up assisted D cups. Well, I'm in denial, if I had D cups I'm pretty sure my men queue would have circled round my block, twice.
Everything went so fast. The top came off, my skirt was down, my hands were furtively searching for his zipper.. I'd be brutally honest that there is nothing and I mean nothing romantic about a quick convenient shag in the toilet and I'm not even putting hygiene into my marking list.
It's clumpsy. Two half drunks with very little coordination and little interest for foreplay and one cubicle that is even less condusive than it was at the back seat of a particular Honda. He was alternating between trying to pull his pants off and trying to keep his lips on me and I was distracted between getting caught and trying to get naughty.
The toilet flushed. We fucked. It flushes again. I moan... and moan. He switches me over and the toilet flushes again. We're wasting alot of water, yadda yadda yada. He starts kissing the small of my kick and I'm no longer bothered about many many gallons of water is going to waste from my forray into temptresshood.
Gawd! I love to be fucked. WE love to be fucked. 10mins and it went from blatant disregard for privacy to trying to appear decent. We came out like strangers meeting at the lift lobby on our way up to the penthouse.
Now, let's see. Sex in toilets? Checked. One pregnant single mother at mid twenties? Let's hope I won't have to check that.
Thursday, 14 June 2007
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
Naughty by nature pt 1
I've always been coy about being the slut in any game. I'm aggressive but seldom suggestive. I'm open to novelties but I'm very conscious of my image. I am Mylene.
When I heard the guys talk about their sexcapades in public toilets years back, I always felt compelled to label the girl a slut. Sometimes when I'm really depressed about not having regular sex, I'll call the girls village whores. BUT, that is/was 3 years ago cos now I've 'proudly' joined their school of decadence. Hurray!
I still blame it on the martinis, his musky cologne and my careless intimate whisper. I actually said, 'God, I'll so like to fuck you.' I didn't mean it to be blasphemous but he just looked so hot after about 7 glasses. That was totally out of character I assure you. I have never and will probably never EVER dish out such a compliment again.
BUT, I'm glad I did.
Immediately after I said my seven words of sin, I felt his hand roll up under my skirt so I intentionally moved myself closer to him. The man works fast, exactly how I would have loved it, but my self conciousness kicked in right after he grabbed my ass and I instinctively moved away. I may be horny, but I'm not about to let the bar drunks get a free erection off me.
He looked at me suspiciously, his eyes told the symptoms of being blue-balled ( I just learned this term). Or maybe it was the 'you bitch.. you led me on and now you're telling me NO?!' look. Well, they both look the same anyway.
"I need to go to the toilet." I tried to excuse myself.
He grabbed me by my hand and led me off. His grip was firm and I felt my tiny palm rest so comfortingly against his. I followed as he pulled by along with him, my eyes fixated on his shoulders and I realised I was actually grinning. Before i know it, I'm being led out of the club by him.
"Where are we going?"
"You wanted to go to the toilet right?"
"Yes, so why are we out?"
He said nothing, but shot me a cheeky grin as he turned to look at me. All this while he never stopped and one minute I'm by the bar and the next I being led up to the carpark by him. We barely reach the toilet door when he turned to me. I was taken by a pleasant tongue to my ear and next thing I know, he has me pinned to the wall.
Our lips locked as if by spellbound. I was tugging at this hair, scratching across his back and everything else that the spur of the moment was taking me to. I was so immerse into the whole thing I barely realised my skirt was lifted up to my waist.
"Let's go into the toilet.." he whispered......
When I heard the guys talk about their sexcapades in public toilets years back, I always felt compelled to label the girl a slut. Sometimes when I'm really depressed about not having regular sex, I'll call the girls village whores. BUT, that is/was 3 years ago cos now I've 'proudly' joined their school of decadence. Hurray!
I still blame it on the martinis, his musky cologne and my careless intimate whisper. I actually said, 'God, I'll so like to fuck you.' I didn't mean it to be blasphemous but he just looked so hot after about 7 glasses. That was totally out of character I assure you. I have never and will probably never EVER dish out such a compliment again.
BUT, I'm glad I did.
Immediately after I said my seven words of sin, I felt his hand roll up under my skirt so I intentionally moved myself closer to him. The man works fast, exactly how I would have loved it, but my self conciousness kicked in right after he grabbed my ass and I instinctively moved away. I may be horny, but I'm not about to let the bar drunks get a free erection off me.
He looked at me suspiciously, his eyes told the symptoms of being blue-balled ( I just learned this term). Or maybe it was the 'you bitch.. you led me on and now you're telling me NO?!' look. Well, they both look the same anyway.
"I need to go to the toilet." I tried to excuse myself.
He grabbed me by my hand and led me off. His grip was firm and I felt my tiny palm rest so comfortingly against his. I followed as he pulled by along with him, my eyes fixated on his shoulders and I realised I was actually grinning. Before i know it, I'm being led out of the club by him.
"Where are we going?"
"You wanted to go to the toilet right?"
"Yes, so why are we out?"
He said nothing, but shot me a cheeky grin as he turned to look at me. All this while he never stopped and one minute I'm by the bar and the next I being led up to the carpark by him. We barely reach the toilet door when he turned to me. I was taken by a pleasant tongue to my ear and next thing I know, he has me pinned to the wall.
Our lips locked as if by spellbound. I was tugging at this hair, scratching across his back and everything else that the spur of the moment was taking me to. I was so immerse into the whole thing I barely realised my skirt was lifted up to my waist.
"Let's go into the toilet.." he whispered......
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