My Present My Past

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

All email comments good or critical welcomed. Rude or abusive emails may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat, and the ass is a bum or arse.

I apologise for any typo errors in my story - I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect...

We went to the out of town shopping centre, I think the Americans call them a Mall, the plan was to look at a new bed, and whilst we were out we would have some lunch. Mark drove and Tallulah Sat Nav got us there. I am not an especially nervous passenger, but I do prefer it when I am driving, today we had decided that Mark would drive there and I would drive back.

The exit off the motorway was quite busy and we had to queue to the carpark, Mark drove straight to the upper deck, "no point in circling the lower deck to find a space sweetheart," he said, "that'll be full or virtually full."

The upper deck was busy, but we managed to find a space near the lifts in zone A3, all we had to do was remember A3. I typed into the notes app on my phone. We locked up and called the lift and soon we were down at the main shopping level. We walked arm in arm, looking in some shop windows as we went.

"Oh, let's look in here Pam," Mark said as we were by Boux Avenue, "perhaps we can get you some new lingerie."

I smiled, he did like me in lingerie, especially if we were out, he said he liked to imagine what was under my dress. Sometimes I would wear no knickers, that would excite him even more, especially if we were somewhere he could take a discrete under table upskirt photo. He had quite a collection of them now, whatever floats your boat I suppose.

Today I was wearing knickers as we planned to try beds, and flashing my all and sundry hadn't been a part of the plan, not to strangers anyway, but I had an inkling to change that, if I had a chance. We had done it once trying on shoes, and Mark had taken his photos of the reflections in the mirrors as I sat trying on shoes. It had got me quite aroused that was for sure.

We went into Boux Avenue and looked around, Mark wanted to get a coordinating set. He started at the waspies and favoured a pale blue, and so we had to match bra, stockings and knickers to that. We couldn't, not and get a complete set. We tried red next, and were able to get the full set. After paying we were back in the main street of the shopping centre, dodging wheelchairs, prams and pushchairs, it was busy.

We went into a shop called Beds and Sofas and passed all the sofas, we didn't need one of them, and found the bedding department at the back of the store. We lay on each bed and tried each mattress, in the end deciding that we wanted a memory foam mattress, but we didn't like any of the bases. Mark had plenty of opportunity to see up my dress whilst I was laying on the bed, but never whilst an assistant was nearby.

Before we got to the next store selling beds, I told Mark I needed the loo and popped into the next public convenience that we passed. In a cubicle I took my knickers off and put them at the bottom of my handbag, under my purse and my phone. I smiled as I flushed and stood up, heading back out to the shops with a sense of a breeze about my nethers.

We stopped for a coffee and a pastry, I went for a Belgian Bun, delightfully sticky, Mark had a bacon roll, and we both had a mint mocha. My dress was quite short and I needed to ensure Mark didn't get a premature viewing, nor any of the other patrons if truth be told, my fanny was for Mark's viewing, no one else's. I tugged it down and put my handbag on my lap to ensure the fabric stayed down and not flare up.

The next furniture store we found had their bedding section upstairs, whether that was ironic or not I didn't know. We again tried the mattresses and after the third one Mark helped me up

"You saucy minx," he whispered, "in the loo I suppose, 'cus you certainly had them on in the first bed place."

I smiled sweetly and tried the fourth one, lifting my knees when the assistant was some way away helping another customer. Mark took a photo, I couldn't wait to see it, and I knew that mark would be getting aroused, especially with my getting on and off beds.

Eventually we decided we had enough of getting off an on beds and went for lunch, the restaurant was a Japanese noodle place and it had booths which Mark requested. Once seated we ordered diet cokes whilst we perused the menu. We both went for a Bento box lunch with onigiri (rice balls), tamagoyaki (rolled omelettes), sushi, karaage (fried meat) and/orkatsu(chicken or pork cutlets). Mark went for the pork and I went for the chicken.

As we sat and waited for our lunch to be prepared I felt Mark's hand on my thigh, at first he just squeezed, but then he slowly began moving higher. I parted my thighs a little and Mark went even higher, his fingers brushing my crease. My heart skipped a beat and as a finger slipped between my lips the server arrived with our drinks. I gasped and tried to cover it with a thank you to the server, Mark didn't miss a beat, he was pressing at my clitoris, all out of view of the server.

It would be another ten minutes until our Bento was served she announced as she dropped off our drinks and then left us, hopefully unaware of what Mark was doing under the table. My pleasures were flowing and I began to pant, desperately trying to keep my noises as quiet as possible, but I almost shrieked when Mark's finger pressed through my entrance, past my opening and deep into me.

I was absolutely soaking, his finger slipped easily within me, my fanny walls trying to squeeze his finger, clamp it tight but my wetness allowed no grip. His finger nail brushed my spot and I gasped, unable to control my reactions, and then he started to bend his finger, my fanny flexing and contracting, my breath caught in my throat, my orgasm so close.

"Do you want to look at more beds?" Mark asked.

"Perhaps just ours for comparison," I gasped desperately trying not to scream my release, and then from somewhere I had another thought. I would make him wait. "Actually, no, I do want to try a few more places before we head off home." His finger wiggled inside me and I almost screamed there and then.

He eased his finger out and then pressed it into my mouth, I sucked his finger dry, tasting my arousal, the Bento box would have to be good to beat that flavour. It was good, the Bento box, it has to be said, but could it beat the flavour of sex, I thought not. I was sure I was leaking a puddle, I was so aroused, but I had decided I would make Mark wait, it would also increase my arousal when we finally got home.

Three more bed shops we tried, in each Mark getting glimpses of my wet fanny, I was sure my lips would be glistening and could only hope that the CCTV in the stores wouldn't be able to see up my dress, and then, my mind flashed to the security guard monitoring the cameras, if he could see, would he get aroused? I was getting wetter at the thought of him having to take his dick out as he saw flashes of my wet, glistening fanny.

I drove home as agreed, and to Mark's frustration I didn't speed, I followed all the speed limits, and even took the extra time to reverse onto our drive. Once in the house Mark grabbed me and pushed me against the hall wall.

"God, I need you," he said, his hands on my buttocks, his hard dick pressing against me.

"Don't you want some dinner first," I asked, teasing.

"All I want to eat is you."

"Ah, well, I need the loo first," I said twisting away from him and heading upstairs to the ensuite. I sat, I emptied and then I wiped. Inside I knew I would still be soaking, but I did manage to wipe away some of the wetness outside. I knew what Mark would be like and I didn't want to risk him ripping my dress in his haste, and so I took off my dress before I went back into the bedroom, undoing my bra as I went.

Mark looked at me, lust in his eyes as I dropped my clothes onto a chair and faced him naked. He had stripped whilst I was using the loo and his dick looked hard, his foreskin pulled back and caught behind his rim, his glans red and purple and shining. He walked up to me and I danced past him and pulled the quilt back and lay on the bed, my legs bent, hiding my sex from his view.

"Oh, you want to play?" Mark said as he jumped knees first onto the bed, "oh we can certainly do that you tease."

"I am not playing Mark, no, indeed not, and are you just going to talk and ask questions or do you want to use that hard lump of meat?"

He pushed my legs apart and down and opening his mouth, he sucked my fanny lips into his mouth and then slipped his nose along my crease. My pleasures exploded, pressures ramping up, my electrics fizzing, my breath failing mid gulp, I was so aroused after our day of teasing that I almost orgasmed at his first touch.

His nose pressed at my clitoris, his fingers circled my entrance and then pushed inside, three fingers stretching my fanny, a fourth laying over my perineum, pressing at my crinkle, I managed a deep gulp, my fingers scrunching into our mattress, my toes curling and heels pressing.

He was flicking my clitoris with his nose, his fingers splaying inside me, I felt possessed, filled, his nose hard, but not hard like a finger or a dick, pressed my nubbin, circling around it, his tongue in my valley, licking my flavours. My heart seemed to skip, my chest felt tight as it struggled for air, my whole body was tense and I was sure only my heels and head were touching the bed.

Apart, together, apart, his fingers played his game inside my fanny, my muscles again trying to grip them, squeeze them, but such was my wetness I could not really effectively clamp on him. He moved his face up, his nose slipping off my clitoris, giving me a little respite, but not for long as his teeth nipped my clitoris and pulled at it, my pressures released and an orgasm erupted, exploding through me, my ears pained by the high shrieking scream that came from my mouth.

My body bucked and in that moment his finger pressed harder and entered my bowel and he began finger fucking my fanny and my arse at the same time, my pressures ramped up, my reserves gone I knew I was in for another as pleasures streamed throughout my body, so overwhelming I knew not from where to where, I was lost in pleasure.

Again I screamed my release, almost gibbering, incoherent, unable to speak such was the intensity of my pleasure. Marks fingers eased from inside me, my fanny feeling void, my arse gaping, Mark flipped me over and pulled me to my knees, crouching behind me, his dick pressed at my arse and I gasped.

He dipped and pressed, his dick going into my fanny, so much deeper than his fingers, spreading my fanny walls far apart, I could say nothing, my mouth open, drool falling in drips to the sheet. He pulled back, his dick just touching my entrance, hovering, wavering and then he thrust.

What breath I had exploded from my mouth with a loud gasp, the slap of his collision with my buttocks echoed around our bedroom, my fanny lit up with electrics as he filled my void and before I realised, he was back at my entrance and repeating, slamming into my body, my gasps synchronised with his slaps, the music of sex.

I was incoherent with the pleasures, I couldn't say anything, I couldn't even move, I just perched on my knees and elbows as Mark's meat pounded my body, filling and emptying, as he shagged me on our bed. He grunted and gasped and I felt his dick pressing hard, unmoving, deep into me and then the cool of his spurts as he ejaculated flooding my womb, filling my fanny before easing back, his dick falling from my fanny with a gloop sound.

I screamed, my third orgasm exhausting me, I fell forward, lying face down, my head buried in a pillow, Mark laying on my back, his wet dick in the crease of my arse. Eventually he moved and rolled to the side of me. I found the strength to roll over and gulp in air, I was shattered.

Mark was at work and I had just stripped and remade the bed, it had taken a hammering after we got back from the shopping centre. I made a cup of tea and sat in the lounge looking at my phone. I had a message on Instagram, asking if I was the Pamela Davies that went to Shipley Comprehensive.

The message was from Davey Owens, oh the memories came flooding back. He had been my first. We had explored our sexuality together, sometimes at my house if my parents were out, sometimes at his when his coast was clear, but usually in the back seat of his car parked up in a remote car park or country lane.

"Yes, Davey, it is me, how are you?" I texted back, it had been a few years, we had been inseparable, and then he went away to university and we petered out, and I moved away to Keighly and setup home with Mark and only thought about Davey occasionally, Mark taking all my conscious thoughts.

"I am fine," he texted back, it seems he was online too. "Would love to see you and catch up."

Mark was away for the next two nights, going down to Birmingham to do something at the Midlands regional office, and so from tomorrow morning I would be at a loss for things to do.

"Okay, where, when?" I sent back.

"Where do you live these days, I can meet you somewhere by you?"

"Keighley, Taylors on the Green is not far, I could meet you for lunch."

"give me a minute," came back and then as I finished my cup of tea another message came in.

"booked lunch 1230 tomorrow, OK?"

Well that was okay of course, Mark was away and so I would have spare time and no time like the present, and tomorrow was as near the present as it could be.

When I awoke I was excited, my dreams had been full of memories of Davey, our kissing and fumbling in the car, the first time I saw him naked, and he seeing my fanny, covered in hair back then, gosh I used to be so proud of my fanny hair, it made me feel like a woman. Long gone these days, smooth and bare now, so much nicer a feel.

Mark took his overnight bag to the car and came back to finish his coffee. We kissed and cuddled for a few moments and then all too soon he was gone. It was a three hour drive, and he said he would text me when he got there. I cleaned away the breakfast things and went back up to our bedroom.

I showered, cleansing inside and out, smoothing scented body lotion over my skin, loving the feel of it as it spread across my skin. I put my robe on, I wasn't going to get dressed just yet, and looked through my wardrobe at what to wear. My red YSL dress was my decision, low front and back, finished above the knee with a flare from the waist down.

My new lingerie would go perfect with that I decided, and I could wear my Alexander McQueen heels to go with. Back downstairs I made a cup of tea and sat in the conservatory, my robe open, the door open, and enjoying the breeze on my body. Not overlooked at all, small pleasures like this I could take on warm days like today.

I sat back in the chair my eyes closed daydreaming, filled with memories of Davey, how we had laughed and loved yet somehow drifted apart. I had been sure that we would get married, but that just never happened and now I am with Mark who satisfies me in ways I never dreamed possible.

I was gasping, gulping in air, my finger had fallen to my crease and I was stroking my clitoris in soft circles as I thought of Davey, remembering his fingers as he explored my fanny, the feel of his dick on my tongue as I sucked him, how we found ways of pleasure when my period came. I shook my head and moved my hand. If I didn't stop, I would need another shower.

I went upstairs and put on the waspie, goodness it gave me a waist. I pulled on the red seam stockings that I had bought to go with, spending a moment or two getting the seam perfectly straight up the back of my legs. Knickers next, high waisted and brief, and then the bra, underwired that enhanced my cleavage.

I stood in front of the mirror and looked, God, I would fancy me in this. My dress would wait, I needed to apply my make up first. I sat in front of my dressing table and first I applied my Estée Lauder scarlet red lipstick, kissing a handkerchief to make sure that there were no lumps, and then a Chintz red lip liner to add definition to my lips, I made a few kissing shapes to the mirror, yes that looked perfect.

Now my eyes. An Estée Lauder red eye shadow with an accent of peach in the corners of my eyes, and then eye liner to accentuate my lashes. I decided against false lashes, I used my L'Oréal volumizing mascara in a deep black. Foundation and rouge on my cheeks and a matt foundation on my forehead and décolletage.

Nail polish was next and I decided on my Opi Scarlet Red, I loved how glossy it was and it dried really quickly too. I sat for a few moments letting my makeup settle and a final check in the mirror, all perfect, no need to finesse. Standing up, I stepped into my dress, slipped my arms into the sleeves and did up the small zip at the back.

Sitting down again I put on my Alexander McQueen heels. They had a suitably fitting red sole and heel, and the uppers were a black rope affair, very minimal, but so comfortable for six inch heels. I stood and looked in the mirror. The fabulous woman that looked back knew that if Mark saw me he would spurt on the spot. Damn girl, you look good.

Checked that everywhere was locked and got into my car and headed off. Taylors on the Green was the other side of Keighley to me, and it took me just over ten minutes to get there. I parked up and headed in. I was about to tell the greeter that I had a table booked when I say Davey, just as I remembered him.

"Hello you," he said looking me up and down, "you look good."

"What? This old thing, I think it came from a charity shop." I laughed, he knew damn well that it didn't, but we women don't like men to think we have made an effort, that we always look this good in just any old clothes.

"We are both driving so I ordered a small glass of wine each and a bottle of sparkling water, is that okay? I assume that you do drink."

"I have the occasional bottle" I said, "sometimes two."

I looked at him, clean shaven, good, I hate hairy faces with a passion, seemed trim, no bulging stomach, hair short, no man bun was another plus. He was wearing a white Oxford shirt with gold cufflinks, his glasses were wire frame and hardly visible, unlike the big black framed ones he used to wear.

"You are looking good," I said, "so, what are you doing, are you married, with anyone, a millionaire yet?

"Goodness, what a lot of questions," he laughed.

"I have a lot to catch up on" I said.

"Okay, well I run my own business, a Management Consultancy, have ten employees. I am married to Kayleigh who you won't know, I met her at Uni, we have no children. My turnover is over a million, but that doesn't make me a millionaire, I am what they call comfortable."

"Okay," a frisson of disappointment that he was married, oh well, "so why did you contact me?"

"I don't know, something seemed to have jogged my memories of us, and you just seemed to be filling my thoughts lately, so, I searched social media and messaged who I thought might be you. I was surprised that you still went by the name Davies, I was sure that you would be married by now."

"Oh, okay, well not everyone gets married, and not every girl that does takes her husband's name." He didn't need to know the truth.

"That is a fair point," he said.

The server came and took our orders. I didn't want a starter and went for the Chicken and Bacon Caesar Salad. Davey ordered a rump steak medium rare.

"I don't know what happened to us," he said, "I was always sure that we would get married."