I'd like to thank everyone who commented on and voted on my description of the night I spent with Abby and Louise a few months ago. It was great to get such positive feedback and to hear about how much you all enjoyed the story. It was also great to hear from so many lovely women, and to receive so many offers to develop further storylines!
Unfortunately I've not been able to take all of you up on your offers, much though I'd like to. Some of you live on the other side of the world, and some of you have been into different stuff to me. That's fine -- it's been great getting to know you, and some of the more eye-opening offers I've had have given me great ideas for future fictional stories!
You'll be glad to hear however that I've not turned down every offer. I've not seen Abby since our night in the Bristol hotel, but I have spent another night with Louise. She brought along two friends - Jo, who looks quite like Scarlett Johanssen, and Carly who has an amazing figure and a great collection of sex toys. Louise did a lot of squirting that night.
I've also spent an incredible afternoon with Rachel, who's 32, married and bored. She'd spent a few weeks e-mailing me and two other guys, getting to know us and flirting heavily. Eventually she arranged for us all to come round to her expensive London house one afternoon, and do her every which way. Rachel looks a bit like Liz Hurley, so we didn't need the Viagra we took to get hard, but it certainly helped us to keep going for hours.
Those are both stories for another post. Here I'm going to tell you about the night I had with Carrie. It was a tough decision which story to choose, so I've left it up to Beth, a Canadian friend I've met through Lit. Beth chose this story from those three, so if you don't like it you can blame her!
I'm posting it in two halves for two reasons: firstly it's a long story. Secondly, I've not heard from Carrie since the night I'm about to describe, and I want to give her a chance to comment on this first half before I post the second half. We never discussed whether or not I'd write it up and post it. I assume she knew I would, but, doing it this way allows her to stop the second half becoming public.....if that's what she wants.
As before, all names have been changed to protect the guilty.
About a week after "A Story" went up on the Lit site I received an e-mail from Carrie. I've just copied and pasted all these e-mails, hence the typos.
"Hi Deepblue32.
Really liked "A Story". Good writing, well developed plot and a night to remember. Is it realy true?
Carrie."
I replied, thanking her for her kind feedback and confirming that it was indeed a true story.
I heard nothing for a week, and then received this.
"Hi Nick. Where do you live? Sounds like you're in the north."
I replied:
"Hiya Carrie. I live in Manchester. How about you? Hope all's good with you. Nick."
Another week went by without hearing from her. I was e-mailing quite a few other people through Lit and to be honest her brief e-mails hadn't really interested me much, so I wasn't overly concerned by the long pauses. However, her next e-mail really got my attention.
"Hi Nick
I live in Manchester too. I'm studying at the university.
I'm sorry I took a while to respond to your e-mail, but I've been thinking aobut asking you something. I've been talking to my friends about it, getting their advice. I've also been reading and re-reading your story, trying to work out if you are the guy I should do this with. I think you are. I hope you are.
I'll get to the point, Nick. I want you to take me out for a night of debauchery. I want to visit strip clubs, sex clubs. I want to be undressed and tied naked up where strangers can watch you arouse me with sex toys I've never even heard of. I want to be fucked in every hole by you and by any other man you think deserves it. I want to cum all night and be drenched in rivers of cum.
I then want to kiss you goodnight, go home, and never hear from you ever again.
You might think I'm some kind of weirdo. I'm not. Honest. I'm a normal 22 year old girl who wants to experience something unusual. Just for one night before I settle into a life of quiet normality. I hope you can be the man to give me that experience.
I've attached a picture of myself. Please e-mail me soon as now I've made my mind up I can't wait to do this. I can't wait to feel your thick cock inside me while unknown hands roam across my naked body. Please tell me you want this too.
Carrie."
My cursor hovered over the attachment download. On one hand I now had a raging hard-on. On the other I did think she sounded a little unhinged. It was partly the request and partly the way she'd phrased her e-mail.
It was the age-old battle between a throbbing cock and a questioning mind. The cock always wins and I opened the attachment.
One glance at the picture that opened up on my screen made my cock stiffen even further. It showed a woman in her early 20s facing sideways into a mirror. She was holding a digital camera up to take the picture and was obviously posing for it, with her large, pert breasts pushed forward under a tight green t-shirt. I took a second to guess their size and reckoned a 32D. Looking up, I saw she was very pretty, with an oval face, flawless skin, full, red lips, a perfect nose, and dark brown eyes. Her shiny black hair fell in loose curls to rest on top of her breasts, which to me now seemed to be straining to burst out her top. Looking down across where the t-shirt hang over a flat stomach, I saw she was wearing black, lacy knickers. They sat on the top of smooth legs and clung to a tight, round ass. They stopped just short of the top of it, so I could see the beginning of the valley between her asscheeks.
As I imagined sliding a finger down that gap, slowly peeling off those panties, and running my palms over her ass, her leaning back onto my chest, I unzipped my fly and started to stroke my now aching cock. I imagined her face turned backwards to me, her lips moist and opened, her looking longingly at my mouth. I rapidly slid my hand up and down my rigid pole as I imagined kissing her, then pulling her t-shirt off, squeezing her full tits and twisting her erect, turgid nipples between my fingers. I felt the cum boiling in my balls as I imagined sliding my hands over her stomach, pulling down her panties, sliding a finger over her strip of pubic hair and into her wet pussy.
With a groan I came, hot cum spraying along my rigid shaft and shooting up into the air. I carried on pumping, not caring that it landed on my keyboard, standing up to aim so it landed on the screen, imagining Carrie opening her pretty mouth to swallow it all down.
Once I'd recovered myself and cleaned up I e-mailed her back to say I was definitely up for doing this.
She replied within a minute suggesting we meet up that evening in a bar in town.
I immediately regretted jacking myself off -- I had a feeling I was going to need all the cum I could muster that night.
At seven twenty-five that evening I walked into Obsidian, a smart bar in the centre of Manchester. I got a bottle of beer from the bar and sat watching the door.
After ten minutes I started to get worried she wasn't going to turn up. It was too good to be true that someone as gorgeous as her would want to spend the night with me. She was probably just winding me up.
I began to look around the bar at the other people in there, wondering if any of them had been sent by her to see if I turned up, laugh at me, maybe film it on their phones so they could all laugh at it together.