I knew I had knocked back one too many rum and cokes, but the atmosphere was so buzzing, I couldnt help myself. We had united with a great posse of girls, or as my friend would vulgarly put it a ‘pussy posse.’ I watched as the dark haired girl danced with her friend, feeling more and more aroused as she and her friend ground together, touching each other’s hair and boobs.
Finally, after so much back and forth, we had met up. He was a guy I had been chatting with on Facebook for a few weeks and our texts had grown flirtatious. We met together in London outside a bar and I couldn’t tell if there was chemistry or not, although I did fancy him.
My wife had been getting restless recently, we had been together for eleven years and it was clear we needed an extra string in our bow sexually. We had tried nearly everything to spice up our sex life, but one day over my morning coffee, she made my day.
I was burning with anger, why was I in daddy’s office again? What had I done that was so wrong except live my life and enjoy what is rightfully mine? The old man, dressed in his tweed overcoat, with patches of leather and scrapes of dirt, reminiscent of his recent hunting expedition on the elbows traced the outside of the room, walking round and round in circles, making me more and more dizzy as I awaited another of his rages.
As I drive ferociously on the motorway, at top speed, I can’t help but suppress a naughty giggle as the song ‘make love in this club’ comes on the radio. It brings back memories of the most erotic encounter of my life, in a tiny bathroom cubicle in one of the hottest clubs in London.
I was shopping for a pair of jeans in a department store in my home town. I had selected two pairs to try on, but the changing room was closed. I asked an assistant, who said that because of the current change in weather a lot of the staff had phoned in ill, resulting in the shop being unable to keep all the changing rooms open. Because of this, male and female customers were requested to use the same changing area.