Author’s stuff: Thanks to wonderful kenjisato again for his great edits. This goes back into Annabelle’s past.
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Annabelle 09
I said at the end of Chapter 8, I would, in the next few chapters, look back at some of my sexual highlights, including and since losing my virginity at eighteen. So here goes with the first one.
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Nick and I moved to Oakhampton in 2015. We had lived in London for the last sixteen years, where I had moved after doing my PGCE in Birmingham. Nick and I had met at Birmingham University in my final year, where I was studying English, and him business studies.
More on what drew us together and those early years, later. By the time this chapter starts, our dwindling passion was putting a strain on our relationship. As I said in Chapter 1, it was Nick who had lost it. We had both been very randy and sexually active for the first ten years of our marriage.
And then without warning, Nick just gradually lost interest. It went from sex almost every night, to two or three times a week, then once a week, then a couple of times a month. It was so gradual, I thought nothing of it, at first–but after a year, I worried.
We talked a lot about it, but he just put it down to the pressures of business and being too tired. He worked in finance and certainly put the hours in. He was making shitloads of money, but our relationship was suffering.
I went along with it for five years and did not stray. Then the sixth form college where I worked, announced it was closing. The job in Oakhampton appealed for a couple of reasons. It was a long-standing college with a great reputation. I also thought a change of scenery for us both, would work.
Nick was happy to agree. By then, he was earning a six-figure salary with a lot put away; we lived extremely well. He acknowledged he could do a lot of his business from home, with a visit to London once a week. He seemed so keen on the idea, that the night we sold the house, he actually initiated a fuck and promised me things would be better when we moved.
And for the first six months, it was. We were fucking again two or three times a week, with the occasional weekend in bed. When it was good–it was awesome. He knew exactly how to get me off slowly and quickly, hard and soft, with every part of his body.
And then it began to diminish again. After eighteen months, we were back where we started. Again, we talked a lot about it. At no point then or before, did I get angry at him. I knew there was no point. Something had changed in him and I had to hope desperately, it would change back again in time.
This time, though, something had changed in me, too. The short-lived resurrection of our fucking, had reminded me of how much I enjoyed sex. I realised I could not live without it. What I didn’t know, of course, was how much I would enjoy it cold, so to speak. Doing it with someone I did not love. But I would not know that without trying would I? I did not go out straight on the pull, but my sexual antennae definitely became active.
They began to twitch a few weeks after their restart. The catalyst was the local vicar, of all people. His name was Derek, and I put him in his early sixties. He was average in every way, except for being a well-built, tall bugger, but was a very caring and sensitive bloke. One of the women in the village we had moved to, had said how good a listener he was, when I had told her of mine and Nick’s problems. Apparently, you didn’t have to go to church to make use of his services.
So I rang him and went round for a chat. It turns out he had done a counselling course so knew what he was doing. He listened well, and only interjected to make suggestions to help me sort my thoughts and feelings out.
It was the sixth session, when I realised his eyes would, more than once, stray down to either my tits or legs. I wasn’t bothered, just interested. And when he got up at the end of the session to come with me to the door, the outline of a hard cock in his trousers, brought the first flush of wetness to Miss Kitty for some time. That night, when I brought my fingers into play, Derek definitely had a starring role.
I knew Derek was married. I was curious to try to find out whether he had played away before.
Shirley, the friend who had recommended him, reacted very strongly to my question.
“Of course not!” she said. “He’s a vicar, and a very happily married man.”
I apologised, but had a fleeting thought that ‘she doeth protest too much,’ as if she was hiding something.
Anyway, I decided to just go with the flow, and see what happened.
Being the minx that I am, I prepared carefully. I chose one of my silk blouses which clearly showed my charms, especially as I chose not to wear a bra. I also went commando, of course.
As soon as I walked into his little office, Derek’s eyes were on stalks when he saw my blouse and what it didn’t hide. I sat across from him in an easy chair, and as the conversation went on, kept crossing and uncrossing my legs, Haramidere escort letting them fall a little wider apart each time. By the time the session was over, he had had a clear view of my hairy pussy for ten minutes. What with that and my straining nipples, he was extremely distracted.
“Are you okay, Derek?” I asked innocently, when he didn’t finish something he was saying–because he was staring at my fanny.
“Oh no, I’m fine!” he stammered, tearing his eyes away.
“I thought I might come to church on Sunday,” I said, spreading my legs another inch apart. “I think I may find some peace listening to you.”
Derek stammered, “Yes, I think that would be a great idea.”
On Sunday, I got there early and made sure I was in the front pew. When Derek saw me, he went red. His face colour brightened even more, when during the first hymn he gandered at me and my open legs. You can guess!
I was very impressed with the way he managed to get through the whole service, with his voice only cracking once. I don’t think anyone noticed.
I left as soon as the service finished, but instead of heading out, I went and found the loo. I didn’t want to use it–I just wanted to hide, so that I could go and find Derek, hopefully alone, after everyone had gone.
I occupied the time by playing gently with my extremely hot and wet cunt. My fingers were very smelly and sticky by the time I guessed everyone would have gone, and I headed quietly out.
The church was empty. I went straight for the vestry, where I hoped Derek still was doing something or other. After listening carefully at the door and hearing nothing, I gently depressed the door handle and slipped inside.
Derek was there, and he was doing something. His right hand was moving in a steady rhythm up and down the very hard cock sticking straight up from a small spread of grey pubic hair. Being a big bloke, he had big hands. As there was at least an inch of his manhood sticking out beyond his grip, I put his length at about nine inches. He also looked to be a bit thicker than average. His legs were spread, and his ball sack hung down, large. There was a lot of stuff in them, I thought.
Derek still had his shirt and collar on. For some reason, I found this even more of a turn-on.
We looked at each other, quite calmly given the situation. Without speaking, I took my blouse and skirt off and went to the table in the corner, which I bent over, offering him my arse.
“I can think of a better place to put that spunk than your hands.”
For a big man, he moved very quietly. The first hint I had of his presence, was his tongue licking slowly up each of my bottom cheeks, before moving down to repeat the action with each of my thighs. Only then, did that pleasure-giving muscle, flicker ever so gently over my pussy lips.
“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, in pure joy. “That’s fucking good!”
His only response was to continue, until I was pushing my pussy back into his face. Instead of getting what I wanted, his mouth suddenly moved away.
“Oh no!” I said, desperately.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” were the next words out of me, as he caressed and stroked my clit with the foreskin-free head of his cock, while his other hand pinched and squeezed my tits. Then, he was bending over me and licking my neck just below my ear.
“Oh shit, oh shit!” I was now almost shouting, quivering with passion and pleasure.
“Oh, fuck me!” I wailed, as he did just that. In one fluid, easy, slow motion, he sunk half his shaft into me, held it there for a few seconds, then with a flex of his hips, buried his length. Again, he held it there for a few agonising seconds of pleasure.
I pushed back against him to get it even deeper, and then pulled away. He held himself exactly where he was, so I pushed back again.
For the next few minutes, I fucked myself on his cock. I altered the speed, sometimes fast, sometimes very slow; sometimes gripping his cock with my internal cunt muscles.
“Oh fuck, that’s lovely!” he suddenly gasped, and gripping my hips hard banged me very fast for several strokes.
“Christ, yes,” I yelled back, and then took a breath, as he slowed right down and brought both his hands back into action–one of them on my tits again, and the other on my clit.
“I can come at this pace,” he gasped. “Can you?”
“Keep playing with my clit,” I replied, breathing hard, “and I’ll cum like a fucking train!”
His lips were back on my neck again, and both his hands were on my pussy now–one on my clit, and the other fondling my bush and lips.
“Oh yes, I’m almost there!” he cried out, and I felt him swell inside me.
“Just a second more!” I cried out, frantically teetering on the edge, as his finger rubbed harder and harder on my clit.
“I’m cumming!” he yelled, and the first spurt inside me, set me off. He spurted a few times, before falling down on top of me. Fortunately, he caught his weight on his own arms.
It took a few minutes for us to catch İkitelli escort bayan our breath.
“Does my form of counselling, help?” he whispered into my ear between breaths.
“It has definite possibilities,” I responded weakly, flexing my pussy muscles on his still half-hard shaft.
He moaned. “Sorry,” he said, sadly. “I really do need to go and have my lunch. Marjory will be worried by now.”
“That’s fine,” I said, with another flex. “We’ll have more time on Tuesday.”
“You happy to do it again?” he asked, gently pulling himself out, and helping me off the table, turning round to face him.
I put my arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. “Like I said,” feeling a trickle of cum run down my leg, “the technique has possibilities, but we need to give it another try.”
I smiled and then flinched, as a larger stream of cum ran down the other thigh. Derek looked down and before I knew it, was on the floor, his mouth clamped to my pussy hole. With several sucking movements and his tongue, he soon had me empty, and cleaned the residue off my legs.
Needless to say, I was on it again. When he finished, and asked him to finger me. He did very expertly, too!
“What will you tell your wife about why you were late for lunch?” I asked, as I got dressed.
“That you were upset and needed a quick chat,” he said, nonchalantly. “She will way believe me. It happens all the time.”
I suspected it was the story he told whenever he was playing away. ‘Not my problem,’ I decided, and said, “Why don’t you come and do the session on Tuesday at my place? Nick is away all week.”
“That would be very nice,” he said, with a broad smile.
When Derek arrived on Tuesday evening, he went straightaway into counselling mode. He made no effort to touch me before we sat down.
“I think we should do our session as always,” he said, smiling. “I don’t want to to mix business and pleasure. I also think what happened Sunday, will have given you a bit to think about, that you might want to talk about.”
I realised he was right. I had been ready to go straight to bed, but as soon as he said what he did, I felt strong emotions of guilt and anxiety about what I had, and indeed would, be doing. Yes, Nick and I were going nowhere sexually, but I still loved him very much. I had never felt like this about any other man, and I knew it was very, very, very unlikely, I ever would. The only problem was–but it was a fucking huge one–we weren’t fucking!
As always, Derek listened very sensitively and empathetically. I almost forgot it was him who had been part of my infidelity. When he spoke, he helped me to try to separate out what I was feeling, and to understand that the guilt was perfectly okay to feel. I shouldn’t feel upset about feeling guilty. I just needed to understand why I had done what I had, why I would probably do it again, and find a way of reconciling myself with it.
We spoke for just under an hour, and I was feeling a lot better by the time I finished. I had accepted the reality that I was a very sexual woman and needed sex. Yes, I wanted sex from Nick more than anyone else, but if had to go elsewhere to get; it didn’t get in the way of me loving Nick, then surely having sex would stop me taking my frustration out on Nick.
It was with this calmness that, after a suitable pause, I stood up from my chair and took off the top and lounge trousers I’d been wearing. I was naked and very aroused underneath.
“Fuck me now, please,” I said quietly, and dropped to my knees in front of him. He lifted his cassock, which I had asked him to wear again, and underneath he was also wearing nothing. His cock was proud and straight waiting for me.
I caressed his balls with my tongue, before sucking each in turn into my mouth and giving them extra tongue treatment. I had slipped my hands up inside his cassock and was tweaking his nipples. He clearly liked the double action, his hips jerking in reaction. My tongue began a tantalizingly slow lick up the length of his cock on the three sides of it I could reach. I repeated this several times, and was rewarded with Derek’s moans becoming more frequent and urgent.
At the top of one of the licks, I paused and looked him straight in the eye, before sinking my mouth right down the length, until I felt his pubes on my lips.
“Oh, yes!” he shouted, and then, “Oh, fuck no!” as I suddenly took my mouth and hands away, and got up.
“I think we’ll be more comfortable on the couch,” I smiled wickedly, and lay down on it, legs spread.
He grinned, realising what I was suggesting, and my legs were curled round him very quickly as he unerringly found my entrance and split me.
Sometimes, couches aren’t easy to fuck on, as they are either not long enough or too soft. When I had bought ours, I had exactly this kind of scenario in mind, so it was both long and soft. Nick and I sadly had not indulged yet, so it would be Derek and I, who took its virginity!
He had been good our Escort Çapa first time, and he reinforced his prowess. He moved slowly and steadily, going as deep as he could on each stroke. His angle was such that he could move from nipple to nipple, licking and biting.
“Oh, that’s good!” I breathed, and moved with him, bucking my hips up to each in-stroke. Then his mouth was on mine, our tongues wrestling as he moved to putting his hands either side of my head, and slowing down, going almost all out and then deep in again.
I groaned and moaned, keeping with him. My legs were then unbent up in the air. He smiled at me, and took hold of each of my ankles.
“Oh yes, yes, yes!” I shouted, as his cock rubbed against my G-spot with each now-agonisingly slow pump. And with each stroke, he eased my legs further and further back.
I suddenly realised my knees were level with my head, and he was pushing the lower half of each leg back against my thigh. And then he exploded with pace hammering into me, as hard as he could.
I was so wet, my juice was making an audible squelching noise, as it sprayed out of me.
“Oh, fucking hell!” I screamed, and came violently. This made no fucking difference at all to him. He kept his pace, going right through my cum.
“Oh shit, oh shit!” I said weakly, half-hoping he would take the hint and relent. Not a chance in Hades.
His laboured breathing showed me he was getting knackered, and his sweat was flying all over the place, but he kept going. And my second cum was soon there.
“Oh fuck, yes,” I shouted, and with a sudden, “Oh yes, yes, yes!” he was cumming too. I felt several jets fill me, before he suddenly collapsed on top of me.
It took a while to get our collective breath back.
“Oh fuck, that was very good,” he gasped out finally, and kissed me.
“NOT bad,” I wheezed, “for an old bloke!”
He smiled. “Old, but with a good engine,” he said, and to prove the point, gave a little thrust with a still-surprisingly hard cock. When he pulled out his cum followed him. “Looks like I’ve made a mess,” he said proudly.
“Me, too,” I glanced at his cock shining wet and white. “Why don’t we go and clean up?”
We went upstairs, but instead of going to the bathroom, I led him into the bedroom.
“Lie down,” I said, and climbed on top of him, my pussy over his mouth, and engulfed his cock in mine.
We went slowly, as we were both still tired. We were enjoying each other’s lovemaking skills, and these were not to be rushed. We both demonstrated them again, using our fingers, tongues, lips and mouths to bring each other off, after long minutes of mutual pleasure.
“We are good at this,” I said, as I lay on top of him, recovering.
“It appears so,” he smiled back, running his fingers gently up and down my spine, while the others stroked my bum.
After a while, one of his hands moved to stroke my clit. I was still tired, but did not let that stop me. Rising up, I moved back until I felt his cock head against my lips. With a little shimmy, he was inside me again.
We went slowly at it moving together. He played with my tits while we Frenched; then his lips were on my tits. We picked up the pace together, and kept it going until we came again.
I waited around after church on Sunday again, but this time, there were people in the vestry until Derek left for his lunch. So I had a week of sex deprivation within me, when he opened the door to me at his place on Sunday.
“Is Marjory in?” I asked, as he opened the door.
“No,” he said, “she’s away at a friend’s. She won’t be back until tomorrow.”
My pussy leaked even more into my trousers at that news, but I only smiled demurely back at him.
Our session in his office went well. I surprised myself, that despite being as randy as sixteen rabbits, I still talked honestly and openly about what had happened during the week; where Nick and I were, and even how I felt about the affair with Derek. During it all, he stayed professional.
“I think that’s all for this evening,” he said, glancing at his watch. “And just for the record, I am enjoying fucking you, as much as you are enjoying fucking me. We both know it’s just sex, which makes it a lot of fun, while it lasts. Shall we go to bed?”
I had never been to Derek’s bedroom. It had clearly been designed by a woman. I felt a momentary pang of guilt, as I thought about fucking her husband in Marjory’s own bed, but the sight of Derek’s cock, as he dropped his trousers banished those thoughts.
“You have a lovely cock you know that!” I purred, as I dropped to my knees and engulfed the head in my warm wet mouth. When I came up for air, a couple of minutes later, he was breathing hard.
“And I love your pussy,” he growled, lifting me up and dropping me onto the bed. He was between my legs quickly, and ate me to a fantastic cum. Then, while I was still panting, he turned me over, lifted me to my knees and buried himself inside me.
We fucked well for at least a quarter of an hour, alternating speed, movement, and depth. Sometimes, we were moving together; sometimes it was just him; sometimes, just me. During some of these sometimes, I flexed my cunt muscles on his length, and other times, he angled his cock-head to touch my G-spot. But, all of the time, we were talking dirty to each other.