Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Tag: #Mira (Page 11 of 20)

Sexual Distractions, Orgasms, Pain and Distress

What happened to me over the winter has led me to realise what powerful tools we have in sexual activity, distraction techniques, orgasms, and even carefully selected pain in dealing with the things that ail me.

The clues have been there for some time. I’ve mentioned before how much my mental health suffers if I don’t have enough sex, so sex and orgasms certainly improve my mental wellbeing.

I think it is well known that having orgasms during your period can often help to significantly reduce period pain and can shorten your period. It certainly did both with me, to such an extent that I had to have orgasms many times a day whilst I was bleeding purely for pain management.

I’ve also never understood why women say they have a headache as an excuse to get out of sex. I’ve always found that sex and orgasms normally take the edge off my headache, even if it is the type of headache that hasn’t responded to medication.

Throughout our relationship, my husband and I have deployed sexual activity to manage my anxiety (which only flares up occasionally now but used to be really bad). My childhood meant that I was always anxious, especially about friendships and sexual relationships. That was particularly acute in the early days of my relationship with my now-husband, and I mentioned it one day when he was at work. He suggested I put my comfortable (yet sizable) butt plug in, sat in my really soft teddy bear dressing gown, and imagined he was wrapped around me hugging me with his cock in my ass.

When he got in, I was somewhat less anxious, but he thought he could do better. He sat naked on the settee, with me getting his cock hard with my hands, whilst he removed the butt plug and lubed up my asshole again. Then, I lowered myself onto his cock, him guiding it into my awaiting asshole. I realised that I had the butt plug in my asshole for the longest I ever had, so when he removed it, my asshole was gaping a little. It made his cock entering me rather easy.

He wrapped his arms round me, grabbing a good handful of tit in each hand, thereby completing the cocooned feeling. I was in bliss, and what was left on my anxiety fell away.

He roughly kneaded, groped, and squeezed my tits, which he knows I love, and when I felt his cock lose just a little of its structural integrity, he started to rock a little, just to bring his cock back to complete hardness.

Once his rocking was no longer enough, I started to ride him. I was in Anal Reverse Cowgirl, so I was in charge of how deep he got, and after me riding him got his cock growing again, he got very deep. He was still holding on to my tits and my movements were making them twist and drag which only heightened my excitement, and his growing just before he came was the last straw and I had a very rare orgasm with no cunt contact.

Since then, wearing the butt plug when I’m a little anxious invokes those and other good memories and therefore calms me down. I guess it works the same way as a comfort blanket, something familiar that you can feel the physical sensation on your body, with a link to good memories and feelings.

I’ve also found that a butt plug helps to reduce stress by distracting you with its physical presence (because you can always feel it in). For example, good feelings interrupt the build-up of anger and frustration, thereby keeping me calm.

But the biggest evidence to support this has been recently in the early stages of coming off gluten. I had tremendous pain deep inside the bones of my shoulders and the painkillers I had didn’t touch it. It turns out that my bone pain was due to my lack of nutrient absorption when I was glutened, so when I started taking supplements, the bones hurt from suddenly absorbing a glut of nutrients. My husband tried massage on me, but as it wasn’t tissue pain that had little effect. So, he suggested he try to distract me with some sex and some orgasms.

His cock filled my cunt for a while, and that brought a smile to my face, yet it wasn’t enough. So, after he’d cum, he got my wand, set it to maximum power, revealed my clit from inside its protective cocoon and applied the wand to it. My body instinctively tried to twist away from the wand, yet he managed to hold me in place and brought me to a hard orgasm. The relief from pain was fabulous, but after a few minutes, the pain started to come back. I told him I wanted another orgasm but was much more wriggly than last time.

He stopped after a bit of wriggling and loaded me into Victoria’s under bed restraints. I had never used them before (although he had used them with Vicki, as she loves them). I had always been very wary of restraints, but I agreed this time because I needed the orgasms, and I knew as my clit got more tender, I would wriggle harder to get away, even though my brain desperately wanted the orgasms.

My legs were wide apart and my arms slightly so, cuffed to the headboard. He turned the wand on and quite firmly applied it to my clit. My body tried to twist away, but it couldn’t get away and my poor clit was now solely dependent on his mercy for some relief, and that mercy wasn’t forthcoming. Over the course of the evening, I had orgasm after orgasm, each one giving my pain a little relief. My clit was the most swollen and engorged that I’ve ever seen it, yet the distraction and orgasms did their job, and for a few hours, my deep pain was significantly reduced. And I have to admit that I enjoyed not being able to escape the wand.

But there comes a point where a girl can’t orgasm again for a while. I was still in pain, so he thought of another distraction technique, and that was a good hard sustained spanking. My brain seems to only be able to focus on one source of pain at a time, so his theory was that if he spanked or paddled my ass enough, my brain will switch from deep bone pain to my spanked ass pain.

I was desperate for pain relief that worked, so I gave it a go. As he started spanking me, I felt the sensations of flesh meeting flesh, but any pain was drowned out. He quickly moved on to the soft side of the paddle and then the hard side, focussing on his favourite up and under stroke. He thought that focussing on one spot would maximise the pain I felt, and it was the pain that was important.

After a few dozen strokes with the hard side, I realised that my ass was feeling rather painful, but at the same time, the bone pain had really subsided. The tactic was clearly working, and I find the pain of a well spanked ass very pleasurable. He carried on paddling my ass, and it really fucking hurt, but my shoulders didn’t, and it allowed me to get to sleep, enjoying the throbbing in my ass rather than in my shoulders.

He repeated things the following day with similar success, and the day after, the shoulder pain was subsiding, so these techniques weren’t necessary. These techniques definitely work for me though and will be deployed again in the future. Sex isn’t just for fun and babies.

So We Weren’t Too Drunk To Be Fucked (50th – Part Four)

I finally got my husband’s write-up of our drunk fuck in my hands, and Victoria was eagerly looking over my shoulder to read it at the same time I was.

I was worked up, I was in a sexy mood, and excited as I read the first line. “Well at least you didn’t throw up or piss in the car.” Cheeky fucker. Mind you, we were that drunk, it wouldn’t have surprised me if we did. We barely got into the car and took a couple of minutes to find the seatbelts, giggling the entire time.

I snuggled up to Vicki on the back seat of the car and I got a good strong dose of parfum de cunt. I buried my head between her thighs and started licking away at what I could reach of her cunt. She opened her legs to help and that allowed me to get my head further down and my tongue further in. As the thing mostly in reach was her clit, even in her drunken state, she was going to cum, and she played with my hair whilst I got her there.

After she came, Victoria started begging my husband for our expected fucks, whilst I tried to sound authoritative, reminding him of our consent and demanding cock; authoritative doesn’t work when you’re pissed.

When we got home, he had to help us out of the car and almost had to carry us in, one at a time. I was first, and he took me straight to the bedroom, stripped my dress and bra off me and rolled me on to the bed (so I ended up naked and face up).

He returned a couple of minutes later with Vicki in his arms and stood her at the foot of the bed. She lifted her arms to have her dress removed, then as he pulled it off, she collapsed and she fell face forwards, her top half falling onto the bed, her face being near my cunt.

When she finally spotted my cunt, she drunkenly started licking. It wasn’t her best licking effort; she didn’t get in rhythm, but she gave it a valiant go. He offered his cock to my mouth as Vicki was licking, and I swallowed it in and started sucking. It wasn’t a particularly focussed suck either, but it got him hard, which was useful.

He went behind Vicki, picked her up off her knees (by putting his hand between her legs under her cunt and lifting). Once she was standing up, bent over with her tits still resting on the bed, he drove his cock into her cunt. He rightly assessed she would be slick enough without warm-up, so he held onto her hips as she was bent over and just rhythmically fucked her. She had a smile on her face but was otherwise not that responsive. He was surprised, as he thought the chances of making her cum were non-existent, yet she got louder and louder and eventually came, and he did almost immediately as he was fighting to hold on.

He withdrew his cock and returned to my mouth to give me a taste of her cunt. As I sucked, I put my hand to my cunt and started fumbling around there. After a couple of minutes, Vicki seemed to notice, so she moved my hand out of the way, and she started fucking me with her fingers, and licking at my clit, and this time, she got enough rhythm to make me cum, although it took some time to get me there.

My husband stood watching the show and bringing his cock back to life. It didn’t take much.

He clambered onto the bed and lined his cock up over my cunt. Vicki stopped playing with my cunt, parted my cunt lips and moved her head back a little, allowing my husband to insert the tip of his cock between my lips. Then she let go and he deeply filled my cunt with his cock. I apparently sounded quite desperate when I said, “Fuck me, fuck me” and my husband started long steady strokes with his cock, meaning I went from nearly full to nearly empty every second or so.

Vicki moved her head again so that with every stroke, her tongue ran over his balls. This made him particularly hard and particularly big. It was a long hard fuck, as he was fresh from cumming in Vicki’s cunt, so he could last a very long time. And I just lay there and took every stroke, every inch, every throb. He said it was really obvious that I wasn’t responding as I usually would (as our regular sex is very emotional), and he felt like he was really using me as a hole. But use my hole he did and eventually, with the help of Vicki’s tongue on his balls, he managed to both make me cum and cum himself.

He then wiped his cock on my outer flaps (something that would make me feel quite degraded when I’m not drunk), and then he climbed off me.

Vicki started trying to move, and my husband went to help her up onto the bed properly. As she finally laid face up, she moaned slightly and started to fidget, particularly around the middle part of her body. My husband watched her distress for a minute, and then had a brainwave.

He gently pressed on her bladder, and it felt as hard as iron. Yes, the poor girl was distressed because she needed to piss. In a good piece of planning before he left, he had put protective coverings on the bed “just in case they were needed.” So, he opened her cunt flaps to reveal her pisshole, told her to just go ahead and piss, and pressed harder on her bladder to encourage her. He loves pressing on a female bladder, as normally, the muscles are not strong enough to stop piss forcing its way out.

But this time, there was no resistance at all, and he got to watch with delight as the piss flowed steadily from her pisshole. She seemed to not try to stop it; she just smiled in relief as her piss flowed. He pressed on her bladder a couple more times to ensure it was emptying.

There she was, Vicki the professional lying naked in her own pissy bed. The juxtaposition was delicious. Her piss was seeping over my side of the bed, and I started to try to roll away from it. He gently pushed me back so that my right ass cheek was firmly in a pissy bed, and he lightly held me down by the bladder. He opened my cunt flaps too, and then pushed harder down on my bladder. I squirmed a little, but he kept steady pressure on my bladder and copious amount of my piss joined Vicki’s on the bed. When I was empty, he left us in our drunken dozy state surrounded by our piss.

Three hours later, his cock had recovered and he was ready for some anal. He is quite used to turning us over when we are asleep, as sometimes we need turning over for a lazy anal session. Neither of us stirred much as he flipped us over, so he lubed up my asshole, inserted his cock and fucked me and came. I barely reacted.

Once he had removed his cock, he roughly inserted a substantial butt plug and left me there. He came back another hour later to do the same to Vicki, and as you know, he returned later to swap our butt plugs over and then to talk to us once we awoke.

It sounded amazing. Shame we were too drunk to remember.

Too Drunk To Remember (50th – Part Three)

A friend of mine some years ago told me that she loved drunk sex. We’re not talking about the odd glass; we’re talking about proper intoxicated stagger home type of drunk. When she went out with the girls and her partner was staying at home, she would expect him to fuck her when she came in (whatever state she was in), and she gave him explicit consent to do so before she left.

There is a specific fetish for drunk sex. It isn’t the licence to go and pick up drunk people and rape them. It is for known and trusted people to agree in advance of getting drunk. I had wanted to try it for ages, but I rarely get drunk.

Well, I remembered this fetish when Victoria and I were planning to go out and get pissed, and we discussed it at length. We both ended up telling my husband we wanted him to fuck us when we returned home no matter what state we were in, and we very explicitly and precisely gave him consent to do so. If we said no at the time, then he should respect that (and he would anyway), but if we encouraged him or even if we didn’t object, then he was to go ahead and fuck us however he pleased.

My husband was a little hesitant, but he had to concede that if we wanted some drunk sex, there was no other way to give our consent, and given how categorical we both were, he agreed to give it a go. To be honest, I see it as only a step on from sleepy sex. We all have sleepy sex regularly, and we’ve given blanket consent for that beforehand. This is just a little more controversial, a little more taboo.

Well, I was so drunk that night I didn’t know how we got into the right car, how we put on our dresses properly, or even how we were able to stand. (Turns out Vicki didn’t remember either).

The first I knew after sitting naked at the table in the bar with a glass in my hand and my other hand smelling of cunt was emerging from my slumber. My head was being torn apart by a searing pain; it is at times like this that I remember why I don’t get drunk very often. I started opening my eyes, but it was so bright out there. I closed them again and tried to focus on what I could feel.

I was face down on a bed and my ass was filled with something. It was comfortable and very filling, so I am guessing one of our butt plugs. I put a hand back down to my asshole and felt the plug and I think I knew the one it was. I felt around it and I was a sticky mess. I scooped up a little of the stickiness and brought it to my nose to smell. It was a mix of lube and cum. Clearly, I’d been ass fucked as well as plugged.

My mouth was a little dry, but it tasted of Vicki’s cunt. That must have been after we left the bar, as I had rinsed my mouth out with plenty of cocktails after I licked her in the pub toilet, and I don’t think I licked her later at the pub. Fingers yes, tongue no. I smiled and sucked the stickiness off my fingers.

My mouth may have been dry, but the bed under me was wet. Very wet and cold. I couldn’t tell if I’d pissed the bed or squirted, but at least I could feel I was lying on towels.

I put my hand down to my cunt and scooped up stickiness from there. That smelled of my cunt juices and his cum. Good, he fucked my cunt too. I hoped he had enough for Vicki too. As I sucked on my fingers again, I wondered how Vicki was. My mouth was still dry, but now tasted of Vicki’s cunt, my ass, my cunt, and his cum. Yummy!

I tried to open my eyes again, and as they adjusted to the bright light, I could see we were in her bedroom with a naked Victoria face down on her bed next to me. I checked the stickiness from her asshole, and I gently moved her to scoop up her cunt stickiness to check and she had indeed been both cunt and ass fucked, and she had a butt plug in too. He had certainly been thorough, and I was content that we had clearly been suitably fuckable, even though we were so drunk.

I must have drifted off again, in amongst the head pain, as I next started to arouse as I left someone messing with my butt plug. They roughly removed it and shortly after inserted a different one (I could tell from how it felt that it was a different one). They fucked my asshole with the butt plug for a couple of minutes, before pushing it home and leaving us alone again.

At some point later, I had emerged from my groggy slumber and was looking longingly at Vicki, who by this time I loved enormously. My head was still trying to explode, and I still didn’t have enough energy to move out of this damp patch, which was pretty widespread. As I gazed adoringly, Vicki fluttered her eyelids as she started to come around, and she saw my contented face lovingly looking back at her. She smiled, and looked lovingly at me, before asking whether I knew how he’d fucked us. I told her what I knew, and she had a big smile. She said her mouth tasted of my cunt, so she’d clearly licked me out too, and she was in a damp patch on towels as well.

My husband must have heard us, because he came into the room, and he looked more than a little happy with his efforts. He asked how we were, and we both explained about our searing heads. He didn’t have much sympathy (and neither would I if I had been in his shoes).

I asked him what he’d done to us after he got home, but he said I’d have to read his fuck diary to find out, and he said I could use his fuck diary to write a blog post. He said we both did well though, considering just how drunk we were. That was infuriating, but the tease of being fucked and not knowing the detail is a part of the fetish, and the intrigue does add to it. We’ll find out soon enough.

He told us that it was afternoon already and he had to go back to work in a couple of hours, and he was going to ass fuck us both before he went. It felt good with him being a bit commanding. I told him my asshole is available whenever he wanted, and he stroked my hair and said he knew. Vicki reiterated that hers was too, for both of us, and I stroked her hair as she said it.

I really don’t know why I enjoyed it. I felt happy as soon as I came round, happy with that satisfied feeling. I will be interested to read what he did to us, but I know it was good and I know we’ll do it again at some point.

A Bar Full Of Nakedness (50th – Part Two)

As we left the ladies toilets, we were invited to a table with our cum-buddies. More cocktails and some very explicit conversation ensured, and Victoria and I took a very full part.

After another hour or so, the cute female barmaid yelled that the doors were now exit only – nobody new could come in. This was about ten to eleven. According to our table mates, that was normal here. The thing she yelled at eleven was much more interesting: “OK ladies, tits out.” I looked her way, and she was topless and had lovely swinging tits.

This was going to be difficult, not because we didn’t want to get our tits out, but because we had dresses that wouldn’t fold down to the waist. Some of our table mates had got up and taken dresses off and were naked, and I looked at Vicki, who was already half out of her dress, so I followed suit. I had to put my dress and bra in Vicki’s bag with hers, as my bag was way too small to hold even a tiny dress like mine.

I looked around and everyone was topless, and most were naked. I feel really at home naked in public, so enjoyed the nakedness as we had further conversations and more cocktails.

And they had a pool table. I love naked pool and hadn’t played it for years. Have you ever tried to play pool with tits swinging as you try to cue? It adds an extra challenge, and we had a giggle. There were only three fouls because our tits touched some balls!

At twelve, the barmaid yelled “Cunts out ladies if you want to be served” and the last few remnants of clothes were shed. Shortly after she shouted that, I decided I was going to the bar again, via the toilet to deal with my very full bladder. One of the other ladies on the table got up to come with me (as us ladies always go in pairs!) and she needed a piss too.

On the way, she suggested something interesting. As this was a female only night, we could go into the gents and use a urinal if we wanted to. This was very exciting. I had seen pictures of women using urinals before and always fancied a go. It certainly explained why the ladies was so empty earlier.

When we got in there, three women were already using them. The technique for a woman using a urinal differs depending on the urinal design (I researched this years ago!), and the three women in question were each doing what I had previously decided was my favourite position and the one I really wanted to try; that is reversing on to the urinal, knees bent to get the ass close, and bent at the waist with your arms pressing on your knees to support your weight. My bladder was ready to burst, but all those times where my husband made me hold on as long as I could stood me in good stead.

One became available and the woman accompanying me took that one, and I waited for the next. Shortly later, there it was. I turned round, planted my feet firmly, then bent at the waist and my knees. I braced my arms against my knees and then looked back through my legs to make sure I was in the right place, and then I let go and my stream of piss started emerging.

I could hear the sound of it hitting the urinal, seemingly magnified under my body. The feeling of my bladder finally getting relief was fabulous, but it was topped by a sense of freedom and wonder at finally getting to use a urinal.

I noticed the woman next to me have a shake, then just get up and wash her hands. At that moment I realised there was no toilet paper, and nobody was making an effort to use any from the cubicles – just a quick shake. I did the same, and it delighted me that there were a good number of slightly pissy cunts in the bar.

I washed my hands, and we went to the bar on the way back. The barmaid was naked too, and I remembered an old trick my husband told me about getting a barmaid to get something from the bottom row of the lowest fridge to make her bend over. I got a fabulous flash of her cunt though her legs as she bent over, and her tits swung wildly.

Seeing that was the final straw and I needed to cum again, and I was so horny, it would be quick. I whispered it into Vicki’s ear to keep it subtle, and Vicki just asked out loud round the table whether we needed to go back to the toilet as I needed to cum, or were there other options this time of night?

One of the women from our table asked us to hold on a second, and she got up and skipped over to the barmaid. She came back a few seconds later and said Vicki could make me cum bent over the pool table. She must have heard my comment about liking to be bent over a pool table, and how it doesn’t happen often. The last time I orgasmed bent over a pool table was at university; I had wanted to do it again, but opportunity had not appeared, until now.

It was clear I was going to have an audience, as everyone got up from the table. As we got to the pool table, I went to bend over, but someone stopped me and gave me a cue – arranging it so it rested between my tits and stuck out to the left of my ass and to the right of my head.

Then I bent over, and Vicki put her hand between my legs. She was the opposite of in the toilets. She was quite rough, far less gentle, and delicate, but I came very quickly, and she carried on for a couple of minutes and made me cum again.

I collapsed over the table as Vicki stopped, and someone else bent over the other end of the table hugging a cue and having her cunt worked on. One by one, the couples worked on their partners, each partner having two hard orgasms, and when I had recovered enough, I had Vicki bent over the table too. I was as hard and unforgiving as she was as I made her cum twice.

None of us washed our hands, so each one of us had a hand smelling on cunt and juices as we sat and had a few more drinks and more filthy discussion, slowly getting more drunk, heading towards closing time.

At one point, Vicki and I went back to the gents for Vicki to try a urinal, and I couldn’t resist having another go; after all, I had switched to higher volume sparkling drinks to fill my bladder quicker.

I don’t remember how, but we ended up in the right car in the right clothes with the right bags. We were so drunk; I wasn’t sure how much use we’d be for him when we got back home.

Celebrating 50 Blog Posts (50th – Part One)

When I set out writing a sex blog, I was scratching an itch. I had always wanted to write a sex blog and finally my sex life had something interesting worth reading. What I didn’t realise when I started was how my life would develop during the course of writing it.

I also never expected to get to 50 posts. I thought I’d run out of steam or enthusiasm or things to say. I thought nobody would read and nobody would want more. I am amazed that none of those things has happened, and more to the point, people like what I write and look forward to more. That has really spurred me on. Thank you for all those who read, and who have engaged with me here and elsewhere. The support has been truly amazing, from people I know in person, the many of you I know only online and also from people I don’t know at all.

Around the turn of the year, we took the decision to have a big sex party about now to celebrate the 50th post to give me something lavish, opulent, and fabulous to write about, but this year hasn’t worked out like that.

So, I was wondering what to write about in this my 50th blog post, and Victoria suggested I wrote about an evening she and I had last year. It was in that period where the three of us were all fucking, but before we decided she should move in.

My husband and I were staying with Victoria in her place for a few days. My husband was working nearby and on this particular night, he would be working until gone midnight. Vicki and I (over a glass of wine the night before) decided we should go out as a couple for the first time, and one of her friends had previously told her about a safe gay bar we could go to. This night was a female only night, but not to leave out my husband, as well as being our taxi to collect us at the end of the evening, we told him that he was to use us both as he saw fit when we got home, even if we were drunk. We both gave him explicit consent to fuck us that night, even if we got totally paralytic, and we told him that he needed to treat us like the sluts we are.

Victoria and I walked into the bar hand in hand. We acquired a couple of bar stools, and perched on them, each showing rather a lot of thigh. We were (of course) pantyless, so more than likely flashed rather more. We ordered some cocktails from the cute female barmaid and then had a good tonguy kiss while she mixed them. I was wearing my shortest little black dress (which has a plunge at the front to below my bra) and a very cleavagey bra, which showed off right down between my tits. Vicki was in a little black sequined dress, with a four-inch hole in the front showing between and the underside of her tits. Her dress had some structural support in the tit area, so she didn’t need to wear a bra. We had many admiring looks on the way to the bar, but tonight was for each other.

It was lovely to be out and to be behaving like a couple with Victoria. At that point, we rarely demonstrated affection for each other in public, so we had decided tonight to show everyone that we were lovers. Snogging, a brush of our thighs, a handful of tit. We were all over each other and rather enjoying ourselves.

We began talking to another lesbian couple who invited us to join them. We had a couple of armchairs, with each couple sharing an armchair. I sat on the chair and Vicki draped herself over me across the arms of the chair. We spent a lovely hour or so talking to them (and consuming cocktails), whilst simultaneously probing and groping each other’s bodies. It was slightly surreal and very erotic.

All that touching and groping was making us quite horny, and Vicki decided she needed an orgasm. I haven’t had sex in a pub toilet for ages, and never with a woman, but Vicki was insistent and dragged me off. Amazingly there wasn’t a queue, so we bundled into a vacant cubicle in the ladies.

Vicki leant against the cubicle wall and lifted up the front of her skirt. I dropped to my knees and began licking at her cunt. Being on your knees licking cunt in a public toilet is about as slutty as you can get, and I was loving it. I could tell from the taste that she was already excited. It didn’t take much for her hips to start bucking. I held her on the edge of cumming for as long as I could, but in her aroused state, that wasn’t going to be long, and she gave way to a massive orgasm.

After she came, I carried on licking for a while to taste her cunt juices. After she was cleaned up, I stood up, leant in, and kissed her (sharing with her what is left of her cunt juices), whilst putting my hand down to her cunt, which I started to manipulate. Her clit was already pretty hard, so rolling it between my fingers and working fingers in and out of her cunt soon got her hips moving again. I carried on snogging her as I worked her cunt, and this time I was able to hold her on the edge of an orgasm for a bit longer. When she came, her legs gave way a little, but my hand under her cunt was able to stop her dropping.

I brought my hand to her mouth, and she eagerly licked her cunt juices off her hand. She then pushed me back to the other cubicle wall and dropped to her knees to start working on my cunt. She is very talented with her tongue, and I was already hot and heavy, so my first orgasm was very quick. But it was strong, and I was noisy.

After my first orgasm and as Vicki was still licking me out, we heard a number of women in the communal bit of the ladies. Someone was organising people. I think Vicki realised what was going on, as she got up, opened our cubicle door, and ushered me (with skirt pushed up to my waist) out to lean on a sink. There were three other women also leaning on the sinks, all with their skirts up revealing their asses, either pantyless or with panties round their ankles. In front of me was a big mirror, and there was one on the wall behind, so I could see the line of asses all with their legs slightly apart ready to go. We were instructed to bend over a bit and a woman stepped behind each ass (Vicki behind me), and each woman put her hand between the legs in front of her and started working the cunt.

There is something enchanting about a line of women bent over all cumming at the same time. The visual feast only made me more horny and Vicki was particularly cruel in stopping me cumming when I was right on the edge, before she finally allowed me to cum roughly in time with everyone else. When we had all finished cumming, we adjusted our dresses and left the toilets as if nothing had happened. The evening was still young!

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