Three Cheers for the Red White & Blue

Sometimes he liked to get in the mood with a magazine or a book, maybe a video. The internet was good, too, because he could find words or pictures for more or less anything that worked for him. Best of all, though, was just to close his eyes and visualize. Sometimes remembering, sometimes imagining, maybe the two blurring into each other until he wasn't sure whether it was something he did in the past or something he would like to do in the future. But once he was focussed, he could let the hand and mind co-ordination work their daily magic.

That was what he wanted now: the images in his head, the slow build-up, the growing urgency, the explosive release. Maybe today, if it was very special, he would let it rest a while and then try for a repeat. He stripped, settled into his favourite chair, stretched out his legs and relaxed. He'd already been to the drawer, chosen a few of his favourites and draped them over the arm of his chair.

He decided to start with the white ones. A kind of cotton/nylon material. He didn't really know about fabrics. What he knew about these was the physical effect he could give himself with them. That and the recollection of how he came by them. She had told him she wasn't a virgin - who was at twenty-one, these days? - but he found her to be unbelievably naive. She liked it when he used his mouth on her but when he asked her to reciprocate she was disappointing. He put it down to inexperience and suggested she should use her hands instead.

That was better - and better still when he retrieved her knickers from the floor of the car and showed her how to wrap them round his shaft. Once she had found the rhythm, slowly easing the soft material up from the base almost to the tip and back again, his erection was quickly firm and responsive. In the darkness of the car, he could still see the white garment being manipulated by her pale fingers, and that was good. He was pleased they were white. After a while, though, she seemed to grow impatient, tightened her grip, speeded up until he was nearly cumming. Not what he wanted. All the evidence suggested she was still at a very early stage of her sexual development. That would mean a nice tight cunt. Cumming in her knickers could wait.

A back seat fuck was never easy and their first efforts to find a satisfactory position were clumsy. Concerned about losing his hardness, he persuaded her on to her knees so he could mount her from behind. That worked. He gave himself a few quick strokes with his right hand, tested her for wetness. Pleased with what he found, he guided himself into her. Maybe she wasn't quite as tight as he'd been expecting but it was good enough. By the fourth or fifth penetration, he was able to get his full length into her. Withdrawing, he found an angle of friction against the underside of his knob that was very exciting. He gripped her hips and pulled her on to him. Drove into her, pulled out, used his fingers to hold her open, then plunged in again. His balls swung through against her.

It couldn't last long like that, and he soon felt the spunk rising, demanding release. After two more thrusts he jerked himself free in the nick of time, sending a series of short spurts on to her buttocks. He was fairly sure she hadn't experienced an orgasm, or even come close to one, but she didn't seem concerned. All she did was ask him to wipe her clean; in the absence of any tissues, she told him to use her knickers. That was when he had the idea of asking her to let him keep them - as a souvenir "of a great fuck," he said. It hadn't been great but in her naivety she seemed impressed. He could have the knickers. He never saw her again, but his collection had begun.

Remembering that night in the car, he took care to control the way he used the knickers now. They were loosely rolled round his cock, his grip no more than enough to keep them in place, warm and comfortable. The tempo was slow and intermittent. If a particularly vivid image came into his mind - the moment when his knob first encountered her slippery cunt lips - he allowed himself a tentative squeeze, a brief physical reminder. But this was only the overture, the warm-up, the trial run. When it had achieved its object, and his shaft was hard, the purple head prominent, he put the white garment to one side.

Its replacement was red, lacy and insubstantial. No point trying to replicate the treat he gave himself with the white ones. These had a different purpose. He just needed to keep himself simmering while a new set of images took over. There was a good technique he had developed, holding the tiny red briefs in one hand, letting them brush across his balls, lightly, so lightly up his shaft, twirl round the knob with just minimal contact. When his cock began to twitch and jerk of its own volition, as though seeking closer, more intimate involvement, he would begin again. Tantalising himself, bringing the moment closer yet holding it at bay while the new images formed.

They belonged to the aftermath of an office party. She was a temp who had been with them only a couple of weeks and was destined to move on again shortly. Acting as second girl in the MD's office had kept her aloof from most of the staff. The grapevine said Penny was treading water until her fiancé came back from a job overseas and married her. When he found himself sitting next to her at dinner she proved to be unexpectedly good company, easy to talk to and not as superior as the office gossip had suggested. Fortunately, the Chief Accountant, the Company bore, was on her other side so it was easy to monopolise her.

The year in the City had been good and the Company hadn't stinted on the party. At first, he had filled and refilled Penny's wine glass as a matter of courtesy but it wasn't long before he began to wonder if alcohol wasn't making her just a little susceptible. It needed only a few carefully loaded questions about her absent other half to make him think the signals coming back might be favourable. He knew he wasn't mistaken when she put her hand on his thigh under the table. For confirmation, he excused himself for leaning across her to reach a wine bottle and used the movement to brush against a substantial right breast. Far from recoiling, she moved against him while giving his thigh a squeeze.

Some watchful manoeuvring when the party broke up eventually allowed him to offer her a lift without attracting unwanted attention. Penny said she had intended to take a taxi but was happy to take up his offer. In the car, she didn't hesitate. Hardly had they set off before she said, "I think we both know what's going to happen, and I think you should know it's what I want, too. There's no point pretending - Andrew has been away for nearly three months." She let that sink in for a moment, then went on, "Three months and no sex. Not good for me. I need sex. You've no wedding ring so I take it you're not married?"

"No."

"Good. Then the sooner we get somewhere where we can fuck, the better. My place, if you don't mind." She gave him directions. While he drove, she unzipped him and massaged his cock. "Can you cope with this?" she asked. "Don't want to spoil things for later."

"I'm OK," he replied, "as long as your careful."

"Trust me. I want that beautiful thing inside me for a long time before I stop being careful."

It wasn't as easy as he'd tried to make it seem. By the time of the party his sexual cv was long and varied. For evidence there was a growing collection in his souvenir drawer. But he'd never before experienced a woman as direct and self-assured as his passenger here. To his relief, they arrived at her apartment while he was still short of embarrassing himself.

Inside, she led him straight to the bedroom, turned on a soft-music stereo and some subdued lighting. The bed was large. There was a mirrored wardrobe along one wall. It was a boudoir for sex. He wondered how often Andrew had watched himself in the mirror while stuffing his cock into one or other of Penny's orifices. Wondered, too, if he was the first to be offered the chance during Andrew's absence. If hunger was any guide, he probably was for Penny was voracious. While he was still fumbling with cufflinks and buttons, Penny had shed all but the flimsy bra and pantie set in matching red. Her generous tits were barely supported by the fragile strip beneath them. The panties served only to emphasise the curve of her mound.

She helped him discard the rest of his clothes, took him to the bed and made him lie on his back. "As this is my treat," she said, "I get to choose. I want you to taste me first." So saying, she knelt astride his head, slowly lowering herself towards his face. When she pulled the miniscule material to one side, the invitation was unmistakable. He snaked out his tongue as she lowered herself completely. Afterwards, he couldn't be sure - given that he could only see the cheeks of her arse - whether her fingers had made a contribution as well as his tongue, but a huge, shuddering orgasm plundered her body in the shortest imaginable time.

It was the first of many. Instructed by Penny, he used his tongue, fingers and his rampant cock to take her to the edge and beyond more times than he could afterwards count. How he avoided cumming himself throughout this onslaught was entirely due to Penny; she seemed to know intuitively when he was on the brink and could always find a way to keep him from toppling over. Until she finally said, "It's time. You've been very good for me. Now it's your turn."

As she turned on to her back, he asked "What about -?"

"Condoms? Don't be stupid. Forget it. Just come and fuck me. Make it hard as you like and when you're ready to cum, don't hold back."

He didn't. He lifted her ankles on to his shoulders and knelt with the head of his cock lodged against her now sopping outer folds. "Ready?"

"Ready." She smiled up at him, linked her ankles behind his neck, pulling him down. "Fuck me!"

Perhaps it was the long preliminaries that had helped him over the dangerous initial period of enflamed desire, perhaps it was a steely control he never knew he had but, whatever the reason, he settled into a long, delicious ride. Their bodies locked, rocked like a single entity, the only sounds his grunting and her moans with each vigorous thrust, together with the suction as cock and cunt briefly parted company before reuniting. On and on in a rising tide of lust until with one last feverish burst of repeated insertions he deluged her innermost recesses.

They rested for a while but he knew it was over. She became a little more distant, gathering up her clothes, handing him his discarded things until she said, "I'm glad we did that. I really needed it and you were good. But I have to tell you there will be no repeats. Please don't spoil it by approaching me in the office, or trying to phone me. It was a one-off. I hope you will remember it with pleasure."

There was no point in arguing. He had seen how single-minded she could be. He contented himself with collecting another souvenir for his drawer.

It was that red scrap of fabric that he had used so knowingly to accompany his reminiscences, but now it was time to move on. He placed the red with the white. For the finale he had chosen a pair of very expensive silk french knickers in navy blue. Applying them to his engorged cock was a delicate business; he relished the sensual silken embrace but couldn't afford to indulge too soon. His grip, as he began to masturbate, was as subtle as a breath of wind on a field of corn.

Strangely - or perhaps not - the aids he had chosen for this session all related to one-night stands. Lady Audrey F-----ham may seem an unlikely candidate for copulation out of context but he had learned never to be surprised by anything, certainly not by a woman's sexual desires.

He had been asked to call at Lady Audrey's country home to discuss setting up a family financial trust. When he arrived, she explained that her husband was in Scotland shooting but that should not prevent them from discussing the preliminaries and getting some details down on paper. He was rather more curious when she offered to make him a cup of tea or coffee herself because, she said, it was the staff's day off.

They worked in her husband's study, Lady Audrey sitting in a straight-backed chair to one side, allowing him to use his laptop on the desk. The formalities took no more than half an hour but Lady Audrey was in no hurry to let him go. She showed an interest in his laptop. Her husband, she said, knew about computers (indicating a monitor on a pull-out shelf) but they were all a mystery to her. She crossed her legs, allowing her skirt to ride several inches above her knee before asking, "Can you access pornography? Is it something you know how to do?"

For a titled woman who had just allowed him to enter on a form that she was sixty-five years of age, it was an unexpected, almost breathtaking question. When he didn't answer for a moment, she said, "I don't really get the chance to ask anyone - I couldn't ask Sir Michael. But we have one of these internet connection things and I would like it if you could show me." While he still hesitated, she added, "I'm no prude, you know."

Once the connection had been found, it was the simplest task to run up some basic images which she had no hesitation in approving. She remarked almost disbelievingly on the size of some of the cocks on display. She asked if moving pictures were available and he provided those as well. By this time she was standing beside him; he was still seated. Still watching the video stream, she took his hand and guided it under her skirt.

Nothing more was said by either of them in the next extraordinary half-hour. She merely made soft noises of encouragement as his hand moved up her stockinged leg to caress cool thigh before sliding under the leg of her knickers. He was no longer surprised when he found that she was very receptive to his invading fingers. Breathing deeply, she savoured his touch for some minutes. Then she took his hand away, moved back from him and lifted her skirt, holding it round her waist. She wore the dark blue french knickers. Matching suspenders held up her stockings.

She pushed away his laptop and lay back on the desk. He was more aroused by the circumstance in which he found himself than he could ever remember, and could not have helped himself if at that moment Sir Michael had walked in the door. Lady Aubrey lay back waiting. He dropped his trousers and shorts. His cock, unassisted, was erected. Lovingly he removed the dark blue knickers before applying his mouth to a moisture fringed cunt surmounted by a neat triangle of grey hair. He slid two fingers inside and sucked her to orgasm. When it was apparent she was ready for more, he took his cock in his hand and fucked her with unrestrained endeavour. She worked with him, gasping and moaning but still saying nothing, until suddenly her back arched and she came. He withdrew and shot spunk on to her stomach.

Minutes later, she recovered and brushed down her skirt, indicating that he should disconnect his laptop. "Thank you," she said. "For someone of my generation to read about the kind of things that are so generally available these days, it is very frustrating not to be able at least to sample them. To know what one was missing. You have been very helpful. But I am must run along and no doubt you have to get back. Are sure there is nothing you would like before you leave.?"

Which was how the dark blue knickers were added to his collection. And now were bringing him to the familiar delicious conclusion. His grip became firmer, the speed increased, he felt the spasm. He watch the wet stain spread slowly across the silk.

After a shower, he thought, he might indeed try again.