DIARY OF A (FAIRLY) NORMAL SATURDAY PART 2

Sorry I had to stop yesterday… it’s so much work doing this, even when I tried to keep a diary to make it easier. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes. Let’s go on from there…

8.00pm

The taxi arrives dead on time and I get in very demurely. We\ don’t mess with taxi drivers who call round to the house to collect us. But as we rumble and bounce into the centre, I can feel the wetness of my pussy pressing hot against the cool leather seat. I wonder if he knows how wet I am, if he can smell pussy in his cab.

8.25pm

Good choice for our the first bar – it’s already pretty crowded, lots of very pretty half-dressed young girls and plenty of pretty young men as well.

We get a drink and mooched round, decided it was well worth staying. That act of cruising through a crowded bar is an erotically-charged walk; I’m looking at young guys thinking, yes, I could let you fuck me, and wondering if they’re big or not, and it just so makes my pussy wet thinking like that and knowing it’s not an idle game – I’m really going to do it, maybe quite soon, and maybe with you, mister smiley blue eyes, or you with the dangerous-looking tattoos on your hands, or you, tall and slim and moving like a dancer with a cute gymnast’s bum. Or even you, fat old man in the corner, undressing me with your eyes.

By the time we’ve found a quiet corner and a well-placed seat my pussy is on fire and I can feel myself swelling, wet and slippy. It gets worse right away – I hitch up my dress so anyone who’s interested can see my knickers.

8.45 pm

Lots of them are interested, a good few of them manoeuvering their girlfriend so she has her back to me and they can carry on talking to her while looking over her shoulder, staring straight between my legs. It’s so obvious to me, but apparently not to the girlfriends. There’s nothing like a hot stare at your gusset for making hot pants hotter. I’ve been stared at by a dozen or more and am very wet.

8.55pm

Rog leaves to get us another drink. It’s a good ploy that often works, but I was just thinking it’s a little bit too early when the first one comes over. He smiles and says hi, bends down and whispers in my ear. I know what he’s going to say before he speaks. I thought you should know everyone can see up your skirt. I thank him politely and tell him I know, you’re meant to. He knew that. You don’t mind then, he asks, and I smile no, I like it. He smiles back and holds out his hand. Dance? and we’re off.

He’s hard as soon as we press together, beaming over my shoulder at his mates, as if I won’t notice, while his cock digs into my tummy. I know I’m supposed to notice by the way he holds me and dances against me. My dress is thin enough to feel the heat from it.

I return the favour and rub my pussy on his thigh, squeezing his leg between mine, heating it up like a warm iron. A warm wet iron. He’ll notice that okay. But he does nothing, says nothing. After a while, I say I need another drink.What I don’t say is that I think he probably needs half a dozen. Courage boosters.

Still, it’s early days yet.

9.05pm

Walking back to find Rog, I am dribbling hot syrup into my knickers. I can feel my lips sliding against each other, softly arousing me even more. Like wanking while you walk, Rog said, enviously, when I first described the sensation to him years ago. Fantastic

I sit, and assume the position, making sure I give dancing boy and his mates a god look at what they’re missing.

I’m dancing with a handsome young lad who says he’s Jack and who grabbedd my bum cheeks as sooon as we reached the dancefloor. I hadn’t spotted him, but by the way he pulls me into his cock, grinding gently right away, I can’t help thinking he’s been watching me and knows my game. He’s 21, media studies at Uni, and his response to having his rigid cock stroked through his trousers is to slide a hand up my skirt and cup the pussy with his palm, letting the fingers reach underneath. I’m soaking, my knickers are a wet rag and his finger slides straight in. He almost gasps, and his cock grows even bigger and harder. He quickly makes it two fingers, and starts to fuck me with them, chewing my earlobe and dribbling on my neck. I start to rub his cock properly, gripping the shiny material of his trousers as it swells in

Roger is beaming at me over his wine-glass, admiring my technique.

09.08

Jack has cum hugely in his boxers. There’s a dark wet patch on the front of his khaki slacks, He wants us both to have a drink while he “gets his breath back”, but it’s time to say goodbye and move on to another bar.

09.20

This place is hotter, with faster, louder music, and it’s much darker inside, especially as we move away from the actual bar with our drinks.

I’ve hardly sat down and put the knickers on show when they’re here, two young black guys telling me about how everyone can see my pants. I give them the same answer as before, and it makes them smile. Next thing, you be saying you want a fuck, they laugh. I tell them it’s not for me to say, and they’re right back at me. Well if your hubby wasn’t here, says the pretty one, letting his words fall between us… I tell them he won’t mind, that he actually likes to see me having fun. Well come outside and have fun with us, he says.

The look on his face was priceless when I said yes okay, but he recovered fast, and before you know it we’re in a deep dark doorway across the street from the bars, leaning on a rough brick wall, I’ve pulled my skirt up waist-high, and number one has prised a whopping great cock out of his trousers and moves against me. He hasn’t laid a finger on me yet, just manouevers himself between my legs and as soon as it’s more or less in place I just asit forward and slide onto it. His face is pure shock when it sinks right up to the hilt in hot syrup. Jesus you’re wet he says, and a fountain of cum erupts inside me, taking my breath clean away and making me cling to him for support, gasping for air and hardly able to stand up.

It takes him a good few seconds to realise I’ve just cum as well. Jesus, he says again, and I tighten my muscles and squeeze him out, plop. That’s not fair he says, but he’s laughing, and moves sportingly aside for his mate

He’s not so pretty, not so big but he’s better prepared, or forewarned, anyway, and fucks me quite hard for 5 lovely minutes. He’s just started to swell up some more, about to cum, when he starts to pull out. Don’t make a mess on my dress, I say, grab his bum and heave, holding him in me and riding him hard and fast while he cums and I do as well.

Number one still says it’s not fair, and now he has a rock hard cock ready to prove it. I’m not allowed to refuse, so what’s a girl to do?

I turn round and flip my dress up so I can lean palms flat on the wall and get a solid pounding, a good ten minutes-worth, It’s a great feeling, the sluttiness of the doorway, Rog watching carefully, a nice big cock in and out as hard and fast as you like. I concentrate on that feeling of sluttiness when I feel him ready to cum, and when I join him I’m very aware of being fucked silly in a shop doorway by a pair of young lads while my husband memorises the details so he can re-live them later when he fucks me himself. It’s a big one, long and wrenching, and my pussy is still squeezing the last drops out of him 30 seconds later.

It’s still not the fuck I’ve been waiting for, and both brain and pussy still have the itch as I pull my dress down, but it’s a lovely start to the night. When he pulls out I turn round and bend, licking him clean, that lovely mixture of salty cock-flavour, cum and my own musky juices. I watch him tuck it away. It’s a fine cock and I tell him to look after it.

9.58pm

They go back into the bar, we move on to another one, me feeling the hot dribble on my leg, Rog adding up the score as we walk. Accountants…

But still, not bad so far. Two hours, three bars, one grope, two cocks, and three fucks. Rog said he particularly liked the end part, gorgeous George (there’s a lot of people in Manchester with that name, even black guys) giving me his all, me yelling at the top of my voice, in between yes, oh yes and oh God, oh God, telling him to cum now and stuff. Which he did, obviously. Took a bit of tidying up in the Ladies, but I’m respectable enough now. Apart from the knickers.

10.07pm

But they look good enough from a distance and in the flickering light. I’ve hardly got myself settled in a seat with my drink than they do their job again, men all round the room looking up my skirt, at the unmistakeable shapes and colours of thigh, stocking-top and that white triangle.

Some sneak glances from the corner of their eye. They won’t be coming over and if they do they’ll take so longgetting round to anything we’ll be here all night. Some look, then look away, then look back. They make only very brief eye contact, as if they’re afraid I’ll realise what they’re looking at and cover it all up. Some just stare. They’ll be okay. Some stare, and occasionally give me the big stare, eye to eye, letting me know they’re interested.

10.14pm

There’s a little group of four guys, staring hard enough to burn a hole in my pants. I’m already doing that myself, as it happens, a new roar of heat in my pussy, more wetness seeping into my pants. Showing off, and being watched always has that lovely warm, wet effect. Being stared at by these four doubles it, like a switch. I try to guess which one has the big cock and will be the first to make a move. I swivel a bit, facing them more directly, so they know it’s for them. Their mouths drop open a bit wider, and I tell Rog. We laugh together and both smile across at them. Now they know it’s okay. Just to be sure, I open a little wider, aiming the sloppy white material straight at them. Their stares burn my thighs and my pussy.

10.28pm

They all came over together, wanting to know the crack, asking all the usual questions, amazed by Roger’s coolness and my willingness to put my knickers on display in public.

This is the second one I’ve danced with, and like his mate he needed a little bitof encouragement to start anything. Always amazes me. I spend ten minutes showing them y gusse, and the’re still not sure about touching it without being asked. I do the same with this paul as I did with his mate, lightly brushing the front of his trousers with my fingers, exploring the shape and size of his hard cock, telling him ooh, thats a lovely big one, asking is it all my fault it’s like that with my most innocent smile, waiting ten seconds to feel a hand sliding up my skirt.

10.34pm

I’ve been nicely fingered by two of them, and now we can leave any time but I don’t think we’ll be disppointed if we stay here a while longer. I can say that with certainty because number three has clearly been chatting to the first one about his fingering and knows it’s okay. As soon as we wrap arms around each other on the dancefloor he clamps his mouth over mine, a strong, hard kiss that makes my pussy quiver and dribble. His hand is between my legs at once, and his fingers are clumsy, but thick, spreading me open and pushing hard inside. I make a long oooooh, and tell him that feels nice. The real thing is better, he says, pushing his hips at me, letting his cock press into my tummy, in case I hadn’t got the message.

I have, and I can’t disagree, running my fingers along it and softly squeezing its shape in my hand. You’re so right, I tell him, trying to get my feet wider without falling over, so he can fuck me deeper with his fingers. This too feels dangerously slutty, though not as slutty as fucking strangers in shop doorways, and according to Rog no-onewas taking any notice, only him and the other three lads twenty feet away, all staring searchlights across the room.

10.42pm

Bad timing. I cum, just as the DJ misses a beat or something, and for two seconds there’s complete silence, apart from me gasping oh… oh… oh… oh… over and over again. Only the people around us know it’s me, but everyone in the room hears it and knows there’s a girl cumming loudly somewhere in the bar. We leave, giggling stupidly. I can tell by their faces that the bouncers at the door know it was me, probably because of the cameras. They have the same greedy expression as any man who wants it from you. One day I might come back for them, but not tonight. It’s a hot idea though, and keeps me trickling as we walk.

10.56pm

This has always been my favourite bar, partly because of the darkness inside that let’s you behave as badly as I do, and also because there’s a very handy car park. Right now,

I’m ready to be bent over a car and properly fucked, with none of this standing up nonsense.

We have a drink, and Roger does the sums, and makes notes. He’s writing this down for a diary blog, but there’s baccardi and coke on his little notebook (mine) and spunk on front of my dress (no idea). Rog starts to call me Monica, thinks this is very original and clever. He’s pissed. Me too, I think, because I’ve got qiute a lot of attention now, or at least my knickers have, and there’s a group of young lads standing by the wall to our left who have eyes on stalks – and that’s not all.

11.00pm

I’ve turned to face them, and have my back to most of the room. Making sure they’re all watching, I smile, reach down, and pull my knickers to the side, letting them look at my naked pussy. They probably can’t see it very welll, but they know what I’ve done and the drooly look on their faces is replaced by the must-fuck look, which is always a turn-on when I see it on a young lad and it’s me he wants to fuck. I go all droooly as well, between the legs.

11.02pm

I think they were waiting to see what I’d do next, so I slide a finger through the wetness and suck it theatrically.

11.04pm

I’m fed up waiting and wander over to ask if they’re ever going to make a move.

11.24pm

Turns out these guys aren’t all together, but arrived in twos and threes and just ended up in the same place watching my knicker-show. But they’re definitely working as a pack now, and I’m being passed around among them on the dance floor in quite an appealingly slutty way. I’ve had half a dozen hard cocks pressed up against me, but that’s about all unless you count having your bum squeezed. I don’t, even though pulling my cheeks apart also spreads my pussy open, which is nice and arousing, but frustrating if that’s all that happens. Time to take matters into my own hands, so to speak.

11.32pm

When I ask his age, Luke tells me he’ll be 19 in a week’s time. He had to think about it for a while, because having his cock stroked, even through his clothes, seems to have distracted his attention. Early present, I say, reach under my skirt and pull my knickers off. Apart from a couple of the lads we’re with I don’t think anyone else notices, which is a bit disappointing, to be honest.

They’re hot and wet as I press them into his hand. You can take them to the Gents, I say into his ear, or try the real thing, and I grind the hard bump of my pussy against his erection.

11.48pm

That opened the floodgates in more ways than one. Luke’s hand went straight up my skirt, but we’d hardly got his finger comfortable inside when the music changes and his mates are all trying to push each other aside, saying it’s their turn for a dance. I’ll fit you all in, I tell them, with my hottest stare to let them know what I mean. Probably I just looked pissed, which is fine because it will encourage them just as much, if not more. I’m not drunk, but the alcohol buzz always adds to the horniness, and fuels my day-long urge to behave badly and be fucked well. The thought makes me clamp my body against whoever I’m holding on to, and push myself down on his finger. I can’t remember if he’s the third or fourth one to be doing that in this bar, but I still haven’t cum. My body wants to fuck, and cumming is taking longer, needing more movement to start me off.

11.53pm

I’m just bubbling along below the level of orgasm and these fingers are making it worse, not better. Early in the evening they work as well as a cock, but now they’re an annoying subsitute that reminds me of what I’m missing. And all this sluttiness, being handed from one lad to the next for a feel, is making the itch in my brain hotter and hornier, and I need to do bad things to scratch it properly.

12.01am

I wasn’t even trying to count but numbers are Roger’s thing and he keeps score. There 9 of them in all, and they have all put their hand up my skirt at least once, and now I’m on seconds, which is lovely, but not enough. Mjy pussy has swelled open and is soaking with juices, mingling with the cum dribbling down from high inside. I open a zipper by way of encouragement, and slip my hand in. A cock feels stronger and harder through the thin material of boxers than it does through jeans and trousers, and the slit in these is easy to find, so I quickly have skin on skin. That feels good, but I want its heat and hardness in my pussy so badly I may just climb on right here. Aren’t they ever going to ask me outside?

I look up and start to kiss him like I really mean it, which always makes my pussy wetter, no matter how wet it is already. He likes that. Suddenly I feel him thicken and jerk and there’s cum filling my palm and splattering up my arm.

I kiss him some more and then say thankyou, I loved that, and his slightly worried look brightens. It was a lovely surprise I tell him, I really enjoyed that, now go and tidy up, and he reluctantly takes his fingers out of me. I give him another kiss on the cheek and he’s gone. I take it back to Rog and show him my gummy hand before heading to the ladies and wiping it clean.

12.09am

On the way out I’m accosted by a guy in his thirties who’s been watching me play and who wants me to go outside, now, but without Rog. Apparently he has something these boys know nothing about. I say no to his solo invite, as I always do, and he sulks off.

It’s time to change bars.

12.22am

It’s a proper club, this, deafening music, low lighting, dark corners, full of fit lads and gorgeous girls, You can smell the hormones in among the Lynx and the cheap perfume. Heaven.

12.25am

I’ve got a cold drink and a nice low comfy seat, and everyone can see my pussy, including the guiys hanging around at the bar, where single lads tend to gather.

12.29am

I finished my drink quickly and am standing among them while I wait to get served, occasionally smiling back at Rog. Is that your hubby, one of them asks and I say yes. Doesn’t he mind you showing off like that? Another one asks. I say he likes it, and doesn’t really mind anything. He looks disbelieving. What if we went outside? He’d come with us, I say, but he wouldn’t mind. I can tell he doesn’t believe me. A lot don’t, even when they’ve been staring at my knickers or pussy for the last few minutes.

I take his hand and lead him to the edge of the dancers, put my arms round his waist and pull him close, His cock is hard already, and excitingly large. I’ve got my hand on it when I say, look! and smile at Rog. He tips his glass at us, takes a sip and smiles.

12.32am

Tony is quite rough with his hands, but at least he’s quick. He watches Rog while his fingers work around inside me, making sure my husband has seen and knows what he’s doing. They almost always expect that at some point he’ll fly into a jealous rage an attack them with a chair or something, and a lot of them take a lot of convincing that it won’t happen. Not getting a drink can make him a bit angry though, so I break off, pick it from the one I’d just bought him from the bar and carry it over. He smiles, says nothing. He knows the next bit.

12.35am

Tony has told them all I have no knickers and very wet pussy. If only he knew. He can only be about 18 or 19, though he says he’s older. They always do for some reason, not knowing how exciting it is to have a 19-year-old cock in your hand. Better still…

12.42am

I’m dancing with another Pete. He’s my second one of the evening, looks different but has the same thick hard-on. I squeeze it and say how nice it feels, He really doesn’t mind, does he, he says, turning so he can be sure Rog can see my hand on his cock. He doesn’t mind what you do, I tell him pointedly, and rub my pussy along his thigh, riding my skirt up so high it’s practically at my waist. He feels the heat on his leg and gets the message, sliding a finger as far in as he could get it without crouching down beside me. I liked that and said so, but he seemed more interested in Roger’s reaction, and I thought he might be fun outside in the car park.

12.48am

Pete’s gone to the Gents. I think he’s jerking off, so he doesn’t cum too quickly whn we fuck. Pity. I would have liked that. Instead I’m concentrating on his mate, whoever, hand inside his zip now, jerking him off quite fast, and it soon works, spreading inside his boxers, full flooding stickiness. It’s my third handful of the evening, which is good, but not a record.

12.51am

When I get back to Rog they’re all chatting away like mates (it always happens like that. Bloody male bonding). But there’s good news, because they’ve discovered (or Rog has planted) that a fuck isn’t out of the question.

So can I fuck her one of them asks Rog, as if i was deaf, or out of the country or something. As far as I’m concerned you all can, says my filthy pervy marvellously clever hubby, but tonight, you have to ask her not me. Some nights it’s my choice. Tonight it’s hers.

Well can I, says a tall bandy one, almost as if my answer still doesn’t matter. If I hadn’t wanted his cock so badly I would have said no, you can fuck off, but instead my pussy floods and I say of course you can. What about me? Asks Pete, back from the Gents. You too, I smile, getting wetter again. Can we all, then? asks another one. All what? It’s a tease, but they aren’t sure. Can we all fuck you? you says anotther bravely.

01.11am

I’ve chosen a big black car with sides the perfect height and I lean back against it while they form a half-embarrassed, foot-shuffling semicircle, not sure how to proceed from here. They didn’t all come, so there’s just the four of them, watching me, and waiting. Somebody kiss me then, I say, and that breaks the ice. The tall bandy one obliges.

Kissing always makes me wet (as if i wasn’t anyway) and in the state I am now, it makes me want to fuck, right away, now, this second. I unzip him and get it in my hand, hard and hot and a good size, not big, not small. He’s trying to spread my legs and get his fingers in me, but I haven’t got time for that and pull on his cock, dragging him between my legs.

It goes in easily, feels good, thick and fat, and he fucks with little short jerks, hardly taking and of it out of me. I guess he’s trying to make it last but it doesn’t really work and it’s all over in a couple of minutes, me yelling as I cum when his spunk flicks against me high up inside, five or six good long jets.

The next one turns me, lifts my skirt and bends me across the bonnet. Later Rog says it was the sluttiest look of the evening, bent over, legs apart, skirt up, holdups and heels ading a little touch of erotic class, being fucked by some lad I’d hardly said more than hello to and certainly couldn’t name at the time, never mind now. But I loved having his cock in me, loved it even more when he went into sex-rabbit overdrive and fucked me like a maniac for several mind-blowing minutes before he burst into me with a hot stream.

01.30am

Pete had the biggest cock, a nice long fat thing that really worked around inside me, spreading and slipping between my pussy lips, all the way out and all the way in, long and slow, then hard and fast, lasting well because he’d made himself cum once already. It was so lovely that after about ten minutes I could feel myself tightening up, gripping him with my pussy muscles and then cumming quite noisily. All through my little performance he kept banging away at me and just as I started thinking that he could make me cum several times if he does that for another 20 minutes he went stock still, not a muscle moving except his cock twitching as he sprayed long and hard like hose, one smooth burst of heat that blended perfectly with my clenching pussy as I came long and deep as well.

Lovely

I fell on the bonnet, collapsed with pleasure, pussy still twitching and dribbling cum. Rog said it was another of the evening’s top erotic and slutty moments of the night, even ruder than watching us fuck. The third one must have thought so too; he didn’t wait, didn’t even speak, just stepped up and pushed himself in. God there’s nothing like a rock-hard cock going into a pussy that’s still jerking from a big climax and still drenched with cum and I started to yell quite a lot as he fucked me. How we didn’t attract the Police I’ll never know – it’s happened before with much less noise than that.

It was so hard and fast that I was sliding slightly off the car and Rog gave me a hand to hold, and I was gripping it hard as I came this time, squeezing as my body spasmed and he squirted hotness into me.

01.56am

Number four was the one I jerked off inside, and he was only sort of half ready. I squatted down on my heels, and sucked hm for a couple of minutes, feeling the cum oozing out onto my thighs. When he was hard enough I stood up and leaned back, legs wide, and he slid it right up inside.

I wish I’d turned around again because he was going for it long and strong after cumming once already and it was a good ten minutes before he flowed again. A very good ten minutes, and I ended with my hands clasped behind his neck, half lying on the car, half riding his cock, yelling at him to come on come on come, fuck me fuck me fuuuuck meeee, until he jetted hard into me, again and again and again, and that was me properly fucked.

02.58am

Best of all the itching in my brain has stopped too, well and truly scratched by six hours of slutty behaviour. If I had any knickers I’d put them on, but I can’t find them, and recall giving them to someone, can’t remember who. Then they’re telling me it’s not fair, because I gave one of them a hand-job in the club and I had made him cum twice to their once. No one said it had to be fair replies Roger, and besides, its my turn next, and we walked off, little dribbles of their cum slithering between my lips as I walked. How rude and exciting did that feel!

03.28am

I made a mess of the taxi seat but the driver didn’t notice, and now I’m face down on my own bed while Rog fucks me steadily and gently, swishing his cock around in all the stickiness of mixed-up cum and my wetness, such a lovely feeling, the physical sensations and the mental images, knowing my husband is in my pussy while it’s still warm and wet and swolled wide from where other men have excited me and then fucked me, and sticky from where I’ve begged them to cum in me and they have all obliged.

It’s a gorgeously slutty smug feeling, and rude enough to make a girl excited all over again, and I start to wish I’d agreed to their request for fairness and just stayed bent over the bonnet and let them take turns to fuck me silly until I forgot who i was and where i was and couldn’t think about anything except the cocks going in and out of my pussy. The thought floods my pussy with wetness and makes me cum one more time, and as soon as I have Rog relaxes and I feel my husband’s cum joining with theirs inside. How fabulously wicked is that?

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