This guest blog is getting a very short and sweet introduction, namely I’m going to tell you two things. Firstly that it’s written by an excellent friend of mine who thought too little of her writing skills when she sent it to me, so I am publishing it here to show her she is good and cool and filthy in all the best ways. Secondly that this impulse fuck is exactly what the fuck I want right now. Sadly life may not deliver the reality of it, but it can certainly deliver the fantasy. Take it away, mate…
Impulse fuck (enjoy the silence)
She picks up her phone. ‘Come over’ she sends. Then she waits.
What am I thinking? Will he remember what we planned? Remember what, exactly, the simple phrase ‘come over’ means?
She’s about to give up. Eventually, her phone buzzes. ‘Ok.’
He’s coming over. She starts to panic. Oh god, he’s coming over. What should I wear? She’s never done this before. Running into her room, she pulls open the drawer and begins fumbling for something, anything to make her feel sexy. Heart racing, she pulls on her bra, her nipples hardening as she pulls the clasp together. She pulls a short black dress over. She’s ready.
Now, she waits again. Where is he?
She’s ready, but has no idea when to expect him. Soon, the panic subsides, and gives way to anticipation. The waiting is frustrating her. She can’t stop thinking about what might happen, or what’s taking him so long. Hurry up. She’s getting turned on now, just waiting and wondering. She can’t keep still.
She hears the car’s engine stop. He’s here. After what feels like forever, the doorbell rings.
She opens the door, and there he is. Fuck. This is too much.
He steps inside, pushing the door closed, then pushes her to her knees. She pushes back feeling his body thud against the door, fumbling with his belt, his zip, his pants. He’s so hard. She takes a second, staring at his hard cock, salivating before pushing it deep into her mouth. How is it possible for him to feel so good?
He grabs her shoulders, pulls her back up to her feet and kisses her. Tearing off her little black dress, he pushes her backwards, down the hallway and onto the stairs, feeling her legs fold as her arse hits the third step. He pushes her again, feeling her back arch as he moves down her body and spreads her legs. She’s dripping.
Then she feels him, his throbbing cock pushing its way inside her as her legs envelop him. She gasps, but he covers her mouth. She wants to moan, struggling to maintain the silence.
Everything feels urgent. He’s going to fuck me to death. He pushes harder and faster, feeling her breath against his hand as he suppresses her stifled gasps.
Without warning, she feels her the grip on her legs squeeze him closer, her cunt tightening in anticipation. She’s on the edge, but she can feel him quickening, urgently thrusting. Wait for him. She tries to hold on, but she can’t. His hand closes even more firmly over her mouth. Her legs are shaking. She feels the release, the tension in her cunt subsiding, giving way to her orgasm. She feels him, too. She feels him pushing deep inside her, hears his breathing stagger, and feels him slow. Oh fuck.
He pulls himself out of her, staring at her legs, her cunt, her breasts, her hair. He pulls up his pants, trousers, zipper. He watches the rise and fall of her chest, savouring a moment to enjoy her, relaxing after the immediacy of their silent encounter.
She sits up. She hears the front door close. He’s gone.
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