It's taken from my cum-inducing compilation 'Coffee with Cock' and concerns a recently separated journalist seeking a new home and a new beginning. The night before her first house viewing, she shares a tipsy and somewhat desperate sexy cam session with a man who continually poses a most inappropriate yet portentous question. Please read on for a snappy snippet.
Take care till next time,
Alexandra xxxxx
Excerpt from 'Single again':
I loved the cottage as soon as I saw the advert. Outside, it was classic chocolate box and beautifully proportioned. Inside it was modern and sparse - but it wasn't cold; it looked lived in and cosy. It had a fair-sized garden and was at the end of the village, overlooking fields, with a sliver of woods down the side. Perfect for walking the dog. If I had a dog. Job for today: get a dog. Now I'm on my own, I will need some company. Jamie was allergic to them, said they were dirty and messy, so I'd never considered it before.
Benefits of being single:
You can live in a smaller house.
You can do what you want and when you want.
You have all the bed to yourself.
You only have to tidy up your own stuff.
You can do what you... oh, I've already said that.
You can have a dog.
I came home after work to a dark and empty house. I could barely bear to go inside. What a difference a few days make. He was always in before me, cooking, cleaning, doing whatever he did. I'd pull up onto the drive and see the windows glowing with lamplight. Music - anything from Bach to Bacharach - would be spilling through an open window; delicious aromas would caress my nose as I opened the front door. The house would be welcoming and warm. His hug would be warmer. He'd take my coat and get me a drink.
'Dinner will be ten minutes.'
I was home.
Over dinner, he'd listen to my - rather tedious to be honest - stories of arse-licking, back-stabbing colleagues and other work-related chit-chat. Always with the right amount of concern in his deep blue eyes. Always supportive. Never critical.
I know what you're thinking: apart from the 'never critical' bit, a dog won't be able to do any of that. I agree. What a fucking fool I was. To have an affair was incredibly stupid and selfish. To be careless and cavalier with my text messages was criminal. I broke his heart and I'll never forgive myself.
I kicked off my heels, got myself a drink and turned Adele up to volume nine. Sang along at volume ten.
Never mind, I'll find...
The wine wasn't made to accompany beans on toast, but it did the trick anyway. After some trashy TV, I slung the empty bottle in the recycling and crawled into the shower. The stress of the day disappeared down the plughole, but the nagging pain did not. The memories wouldn't wash away either. I recalled that time Jamie climbed into the shower fully clothed, bent me over and ate me out from behind. Fucked me with his tongue as he rubbed my clit. Water pouring over me, my nipples hard and blissful to the touch. He always made me cum. Never failed. Such perfect timing. Tongue flicking across my arse hole. Licking gently. Sliding inside. I loved his tongue on me. In me. I loved him.
My facade cracked. Tears joined the deluge. I hugged myself, berated myself. Fucking stupid cow.
I dried myself, body still tingling, heart still pounding. Clit still aching. I reached down, but decided to punish myself. No sex for you tonight, young lady! If only I'd exercised such self-control before. I slipped into my black silk kimono, the one Pete brought me back from Japan - the one I told Jamie I'd bought on a whim from M&S. Tonight it felt like a hair shirt. More punishment. Yes, I know. I deserved it. The big double bed looked even bigger. I sat cross-legged in the centre of the cream quilt and opened my laptop. Facebook.
Facebook is where it started...
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