Source: Through Adult Industry News
By: Eve Rhony
I must tell you of my latest, rather desperate and awkward encounter. Immersed in my recent assignment as I was, my brain stretched to its capacity, my sex life slipped off the radar. Apart from the odd, exhausted wank (just to keep the juices flowing and to help me switch off from my subject and get some sleep) I had been neglecting my libido.
It’s true what they say about the less you have the less you crave it – I know this to be inversely true – the more you have the more you want – but had never experienced this prolonged apathy and disinterest before.
Not content with letting my standards slip, I ventured forth a couple of days after handing in the assignment with the sole intent of making something lusty happen! I decided to visit the Yayoi Kusama exhibition and the sight of her stuffed phallus covered furniture and clothes lifted my spirits and focused my mind on the subject of sex.
I giggled aloud, titillated by her work, hoping to communicate my openness and sense of fun to the bodies pressing about me. I played a game with myself, an old game, one I developed from an early age when brief, sexual encounters with strangers, dominated my pubescent dreams.
The first time I consciously played this game was on a school trip to the Victory (Nelson’s ship) where, whenever possible I “accidentally” bumped into, brushed against or proffered a protruding backside to an array of strangers, just to see what would happened. I was rewarded with several twinges and tingles throughout the day as a stray finger pressed between my legs, a hairy arm brushed against a budding breast and on one satisfying occasion, I felt a hardening cock pushing against my back.
As I entered the next crowded room of the gallery, I smiled at the thought of the game. Not caring whether the contact was with women or men. Just eager to get back in touch with my body.
I entered the next room which was particularly crowded, bodies and faces pressed forward straining to see the various works. I pressed my own form forward until my torso came into contact with the back of the woman in front. I pushed into her warmth, my breasts squashing against her shoulder blades. She flinched, turned slightly, I apologised, “Oh I beg your pardon” as I stepped back, I regained my balance and moved away to the next crowded picture.
This time I manoeuvered in front of a man and as I considered the art before me I leaned back ever so slightly, feeling my head almost rest on his shoulder for a moment. I waited there and when he did not move I poked my bum out a little and felt for his thigh, allowing the slightest brush of buttock against balls before once again moving away.
So I went on, repeating this modus at every opportunity. When I felt a hand making a definite lunge between my legs I got the tingle I longed for and satisfied that I had shared my sexy game with others I headed for the door and the sunshine.
“Excuse me, Miss?” A hand on my shoulder. His voice sounded authoritarian. I cringed inside thinking I’d been spotted on security cameras playing my silly game. I turned and was relieved to see not a security uniform but a middle aged man with a twinkle in his eye and a wry smile on his playful lips. “Were you just doing what I thought you were doing?” He asked in a head-masterly tone.
I stuttered, “EHM, it’s a game I play, it’s not meant to hurt anyone.” I felt about seven years old, caught scrumpying by a cross neighbour.
“And what is this game exactly?” I could feel my cheeks blush as I explained “Well, if you must know,” I said rather haughtily, “I like getting a sexual thrill from a brief and accidental encounter, so I go to crowded places and travel on tube trains with the purpose of pushing or brushing myself up against someone, in some lusty, tingle-raising fashion”.
“Then what happens?” he leered toward me fixing his eyes on my chest.
“I go home and wank!” I stated, matter-of-factly, as if daring myself in the conversation with a stranger.
“Well, that was my crotch you were pushing your bum into and now you’ve got me all hot and bothered…what are we going to do about it?”
For the second time that day I felt a pang of fear. Play it cool – keep your nerve – keep your wits about you, these thoughts circled my brain as my mouth opened and words fell out.
“What do you suggest?” as I said it, the risk mixed with lust and I felt the gush of juices dampen my crotch. I surreptitiously squirmed my thighs together enjoying the wet slippery sensation.
“My hotel’s near here” he took my arm as if to walk like lovers. I pulled away.
“I’m not coming to any hotel with you but you can buy me a drink in that pub over there.”
We sat by the river and supped our beers.
“So are you going to finish what you started?” He asked as we finished our pints.
I had been considering my position and my cunt was still throbbing with desire so…
“What about a bit of fingering round the back of this place?” He choked.
“What? That sounds rather sordid and cheap.” He turned his nose up.
“Take it or leave it” I stood to leave.
“No wait, yes, sure, come on.”
He grabbed my wrist and headed for the rear of the building. The next thing, I was pushed roughly up against the wall. Two large shrubs shielded us from any unlikely passers by.
He thrust his hand between my legs, startled, I jumped and let out a small gasp. He took it as encouragement and snapped open my belt, pulling down my zip at the same time. His hot, rough hand plunged greedily where I knew I was sopping. A big index finger pushed inside me and my knees buckled, pushing my cunt firmly onto him.
I knew my cunt was sucking in his strong digit, gripping on, not letting go. He extracted his finger with difficulty and held it up, examining the viscous silk coating before sniffing at it and licking it. Now with a wet finger he entered me again.
I searched for his bulge and was gratified by the substantial erection I could feel through his trousers. Clumsily, I unzipped him and grasping his cocked pumped in time to the thrusts of his one, two, now three fingers. I rocked myself against him, grasping the back of his neck with my spare hand as I stroked his penis. My legs began to tremble as my orgasm approached.
“I’m coming” I whispered. “Don’t stop, here it comes” I let out a muffled “uuh, yeah, mmm” before my legs splayed helplessly below me. My cunt full and pulsing, my clit concupiscent, hot, throbbing and alive.
As I “came-to”, still pulsing his cock, he jerked his seed all over my hand. Hot globs that quickly cooled in the open air. Hurriedly, we pulled ourselves together and returned to the riverside, mingling with the sightseers and tourists.
“Fancy another drink?” He looked a bit sheepish.
“No thanks, I prefer to leave it there”
“Well, at least you finished what you started. Serves you right for being such a randy little thing. Watch out for that. I could have been trouble.” “That’s why I want to leave it there. I might have just had a lucky escape and don’t want to be around to find out. Goodbye and thanks for not being trouble.”
“Thank you” he smiled, “I won’t forget this afternoon for a long time to come” He laughed to himself.
I couldn’t wait to get home to wank with those same juices that had been stirred earlier. The train ride home didn’t help, the jolt of the tracks brought me near to orgasm more than once or twice. I could barely stop myself from having a sneaky finger myself. I stopped myself by thinking of all the extra randiness that was building up for when I got home. I fell on the bed as soon as I got in, almost tearing at my clothes in my rush to be naked. There followed a succession of comings that left me panting and writhing like a wild thing. Finally satisfied, I closed my eyes to dream of lusty strangers.
To read more please visit me at http://everhony@wordpress.com
