"Fuuuuck!" Growled Lauren, as Frank battered against her bum. She knew she was going to cum again: it was practically screaming at her as his thick cock piled into her again and again.
He paused for a moment and she took the opportunity to get a better hold of the back of the sofa as he ground his hips against her.
Then he started again: straight into terminator mode: subtle and slow certainly wasn't his style, and within three strokes his hips were once again pummeling her quivering flesh.
Fuck but she needed this.
Lauren had woken that morning with the usual instantly on her mind. Sex.
She needed sex.
Good sex.
She hadn't had good sex in ages. She'd had bad sex, she'd even had half decent sex, but she hadn't had good sex: not in a long time.
She needed good sex.
It wasn't that she was sex mad or anything, at least she didn't think so, it was just that it had been so long since she'd had good sex that it always seemed to be on her mind, every time there was nothing else to think about, sex was there. In fact, even when there was something else to think about, sex was there.
She'd turned thirty on Friday and had had a great birthday night out with her friends, she'd then allowed herself to get picked up by a reasonably sober guy and gone back to his place for beer breath kissing and bad sex followed immediately with him falling into a semi-coma. She'd left within thirty minutes of arriving.
It was now early Sunday morning and she was still in bed.
Thinking about sex.
I mean, she thought as she swiped left one last time and, in frustration, closed the app, how can it be this hard to get some good sex, or even sex with a guy who she thought might give her good sex.
She lay there for a few minutes trying to decide what to do with her day when she remembered that the other thing she needed was a replacement pair of earbuds: her's having been left on the train two days earlier on her way home from work.
So she jumped onto another app and started looking.
And almost immediately found exactly what she was looking for; perfect replacements for the ones she'd lost. And not too far away.
She had a quick look at the guy selling them: just to reassure herself that he was genuine and that she wasn't getting into a scam or an unpleasant situation. Seemed ok, a vaguely handsome nineteen year old called Josh who looked like he still lived with his parents, although not much on there about his mum. He was 'normal' looking, she couldn't think of a better word; tall and slim, bit of a serious haircut and a little self conscious in his profile photo. The complete opposite of his dad who looked the confident rugby player type; heavy-set with a beard and unkempt hair. Ok, give it a go. She sent vaguely handsome a message: asking it they were still available and if she could get them later that day.
Then decided it was still too early to get up, especially on a Sunday.
So, as her hand slipped between her legs, she let her thoughts drift back to sex and a beefy looking rugby player type.
A couple of hours later she woke to an incoming message on her phone. Yes, the earbuds were still available and later that day would be fine. They settled on 2pm and left it at that.
And so, after a glass of wine and a sandwich lunch at a local pub, at 2pm she pressed the doorbell of a decent sized detached house in a quiet neighbourhood about a thirty minute drive from the pub.
She'd got herself into a little bit of a tizz over what to wear for her little outing. She'd found herself worrying about showing too much leg, then about not showing enough, then it had been about a low cut top or not, a tight one or a loose one, a transparent one or a not transparent one: it had turned into a ridiculous hour with a pile of clothes on the bed before she'd finally settled on a straight white blouse with a low cut bra, a knee length loosely pleated skirt with a pair of one inch heels. Now she felt completely overdressed and all wrong.
And then at the pub she'd spent a very introspective hour asking the same old question: why was it so hard to get good sex?
It wasn't as though she was bad looking or anything: she'd been told she was attractive, although a so called friend had once said that she looked 'mumsy': she'd been quite annoyed at that one; she didn't want to look 'mumsy', not that she had anything against mums: the world desperately needed mums, just that Lauren didn't want to join their ranks, and definitely didn't want to look like one when she wasn't one.
She wanted to look how she looked.
At 5' 9" she had curves; she had a waist and her boobs were an E cup which she felt was more than a handful for most men and matched the curves, most of which were in the right place, she had good legs and she liked her bum so all in all she didn't understand why more men didn't 'go for it', as they liked to say.
Which had been the driving force behind her indecision in getting dressed that morning; she liked to look good. And she liked men to 'go for it'.
And the reason why, in a moment of bravado, she'd flicked another button on her blouse open as she'd stepped from her car.
A blurry outline appeared behind the frosting of the front door and a moment later it opened to reveal Josh.
Who looked better in the flesh. A little taller than she'd expected and he'd grown his hair out to a more relaxed style. He was very nervous for some reason.
"Hi Josh, I'm Lauren. I've come about the earbuds?" He looked as though he needed reminding.
"Oh hi Lauren, please come in." His eyes had immediately dropped to her cleavage and his cheeks had flushed a faint pink.
She stepped past him, purposefully brushing her arm against his and hoping he noticed her perfume.
She enjoyed being a little flirty; it always got her horny, and today she was feeling particularly horny. But then, she mused, when wasn't she feeling particularly horny.
She followed Josh down the short hall to a large kitchen with a small snug attached.
He turned and immediately stared at her cleavage.
"Josh?"
He blinked and looked up, his cheeks a bright red. "Hmm?"
"The earbuds Josh?"
