Steamy Day At The Cricket

The heat had been building up all day. That heavy, sultry heat that made her wet all over. Thunderstorms always made her horny and today was no exception. She was wriggling in her seat on the Pavilion Terrace and it was not because of boredom...

She was a tall, fiery red-head with green eyes and a magnificent pair of natural tits that created stiffening cocks and plenty of attention wherever she went. There was something about her tits that made her really horny and just watching two men sucking and kneading those engorged pink nipples was enough to make her come right there and then. But that was usually just the amuses-bouche before the full banquet.

She was watching the Test match at Lords. Some corporate champagne freebie that sure as hell beat a day in the office. She had been flirting unmercifully with the charming old MCC boys during lunch and, with the heat building up as the storm approached, she was starting to feel her velvety juices soaking though her lacy panties.

Dressed immaculately, from the outside. Light cream linen suit with tight skirt emphasising every single movement of her rounded peachy arse. The old boys who had been watching her every movement throughout the day would continue to wonder in their dreams whether there were any knickers beneath that tight ivory skirt or just a hot, wet, luscious cunt ready for action.

There would have been coronaries up and down the Long Room if they had managed to get a glimpse of what lay beneath those conservative and elegant clothes. She liked expensive things, and wearing exquisite, expensive underwear was just of the things that really got her juices flowing. She also owned one of the most magnificent and dirtiest collections of erotica from the 1900s and an assortment of vibrators and glass and ceramic anal beads that would put most collectors to shame.

Under those clothes she had dressed carefully for the cricket action – this was a serious game and its traditions must of course be respected. She had dressed slowly that morning, enjoying watching her own sexy, curvy body as she prepared for the day. First, those magnificent tits were encased in rich, ivory lace – the rounded globes of creamy flesh pushing to escape the confines of her balcony brassiere. Next on were the tiny lace panties – slowly she eased them and over her gorgeous arse – trailing her long elegant fingers briefly up one firm cheek, around her elegant waist and down the top of her thighs and then quickening as she brutally pushed her fingers up into her pulsing clit – which was demanding attention. No time, she would be late, and quickly finished the perfect cricket lingerie with honey golden stockings and positively virginal suspenders – she smiled to herself, licking those full soft lips and caressing her quivering tits as she admired her own much sexier version of cricket whites in the mirror. She was ready for play.

Lunch now over she was sitting up on the terrace at the back, watching the menacing clouds grow in strength coming over the Lords media centre – which to her always looked like a unique shape for a rather exciting new sex toy – perhaps she should go into design as well as collection...

Sipping the champagne, she stretched languorously in her seat as she felt those golden bubbles relaxing her and opening up every part of her body. She felt another tension build as her warm, sexy body began to make its more urgent demands for some serious sexual attention.

Some more champagne, that's what she needed. She sashayed back to the ice buckets, scooped a cube of ice and touched it to her collar bone. The ice cold cube hit her fiery skin and a glistening rivulet of icy water ran down between her magnificent breasts. She shivered and smiled quietly to herself. She shivered with pleasure and anticipation and scanned the terrace for a likely batting partner.

She raised a fresh glass to her red lips and just as she was about to drink in the honey gold liquid she felt the cold bare metal touch the inside of her thigh. Two firm hands grasped her shoulders from behind. She caught her breath, the touch was exquisite, firm and powerful and the cold metal on her skin was nearly unbearable.

The metal ball thrust deeper up between her legs. She looked down, the head peeped out – it was a silver topped walking cane, ebony black with its antique bulbous head the size of a golf ball, smooth as silk and as hard as ice. Whoever owned it had been chilling it in the Champagne bucket and the sensations whirled its way through her body.

She breathed deeply – the scent of rich citrussy aftershave caressed her followed by the stronger more primal scent of hard cock and sweat. The cold sphere worked its way up her inside thigh, hard and insistent pushing her legs further apart as the head kept pushing upwards. Her juices were in free flow and her cunt was aching to be touched. She leaned forward over the railing, letting the cream skirt ride up allowing access to her throbbing cunt and pushing the soft cheeks of her arse back towards her mystery assailant. Her nipples were rock hard, engorged with blood and every nerve ending rippling with the excitement and yearning to be pulled and twisted with rough and brutal hands. The cold surface of the cane top had now reached her silken underwear – the heat of her burning skin and molten juices were warming it slowly but not quickly enough. Without a word, a strong hand reached beneath her and roughly ripped aside the tiny piece of dripping wet silk. In the same second the hard sphere of the cane was thrust up into her, stretching her taut pussy hard and wide. The ball opened up those dark rosy labia and powering its way inside her. She gasped, eyes wide open staring at the back of those panamas and orange and yellow ties politely applauding the boundary just scored.

No longer caring she thrust her arse back towards the powerful man behind her and writhed and moaned as the hard silver ball rammed in and out of her sopping cunt without respite.

An elegant tanned hand reached into her silk shirt and yanked her breasts from their ivory lace restraints. A button flew off bouncing off the wooden decking. He put more pressure on her breasts - pinching and twisting her nipples until the power of the lust and wanton feeling overwhelmed her. She rammed back harder and harder – the cane more brutal and more exciting than she could imagine. The rough kneading tits creating a burning link between her burning pussy and her aching nipples. Within seconds the first pulsing wave of her orgasm began and as the cane rammed home over and over again her panting became uncontrollable and neither caring nor thinking she screamed out with the intensity of the outrageous orgasm. Screaming out she began to laugh as the crowd screamed out with her – a six absolutely twatted into the crowd by the England captain – God bless your exquisite timing Vaughny.

Without a word, he roughly pulled the cane from her exquisite hot wet cunt and grasped the shining red hair. She was weak from the intensity of her orgasm and offered no resistance – he pulled her back towards the service elevator and grabbed her heaving tits just in case she thought she was going to change her mind. She'd been teasing him all day and this was his revenge. The cane was a reminder from his MI5 days and the symbol of his only physical flaw – the ripped thigh muscle wrecked by a stray bullet from a terrorist's sawn off shotgun. But that could not stop him, not today, not ever. He was going to have this cream clad goddess – she was his for the day.

The small elevator doors opened and he shoved her unceremoniously in – the mirror reflected her flushed skin and her huge creamy breasts were exposed in their magnificent glory.

She got her first glimpse of her play mate – he was tall and elegant with a steely glint in his hard blue eyes. She could smell his fine sweat and a hint of his cock even more in this tiny box and she wanted it right here in her mouth – hard and throbbing and glistening with pre-cum. Eyes filled with lust, she whipped around to him dropped to her knees and took his zipper in her teeth. Never taking her eyes off him the zip went down and her long fingers reached in and grasped his hard cock. It was delicious, as elegant as him long and pulsing with animal lust.

He gasped as his hot cock was enveloped in her wet, warm mouth. The sensation was overwhelming – he could feel the back of her throat opening up to him the exquisite sensation as her throat muscles tried to reject him but knowing that the dirty bitch she was, she would soon open her throat to him and he would be fucking her face as hard as the silver topped cane had fucked her molten pussy.

She expertly tongued his swollen purple head as he fucked his shaft up and down like the dirtiest whore on the beat. The pull of her mouth was sensational hot and wet and tight and then smooth and velvety as her tongue licked and slurped his silvery strands of pre-cum. Hotter and wetter, the pleasure intensifying, faster and faster, a shiver as his balls tightened, grabbing her breasts and ramming his pelvis into her face – she was panting and asking more and more and more. He kept thrusting and ramming his cock into that boiling wet cavern between this whore's lips and felt his body take over as the rocket powered jets of cum banged through his body into her waiting mouth and she sucked it down, greedily swallowing and sucking him drinking it down moaning with the pleasure of his hot wet seed.

He was done. She licked and cleaned him gently stood and softly placed those amazing tits back into their ivory prison. Slowly grasping his cane she stared deep into his hard cold eyes and without blinking licked the silver topped cane with one elegant sweep. Adjusting her skirt she turned, opened the lift door and with one slow outrageous wink, disappeared into the Long Room kitchens.

He smiled up at the picture of W G Grace and followed her...