OMG I’m on Google Street View! (Of sorts)

Original ©Andrew

(This post is themed coincidences and isn’t erotic fiction. Btw not everything I write reaches Blog Andrew!)

Coogle Map 023
Google maps Street View of my house (Photograph courtesy of my Samsung Tablet)

Before I begin this true tale I have an admission, I have to be honest, I’ve known about the existence of these Google Street photos (of my home above) for quite some time, so it’s not as if I’m about to let you in on something that happened yesterday!

Only tonight as I was musing over whether to write a post about my favourite sex position namely The Cowgirl, which could even be titled The Lazy Cowgirl position, but the lady was riding me so energetically that Cowgirl it is! But then I thought writing about Sex positions seems a god awful idea for a post (just wait a week!)

Have you ever gazed at an innocuous unremarkable photograph and thought ‘there’s something more to this picture than meets the eye’, well I experience this feeling EVERY time I gaze at these Google photos of my home, right up until this evening I’d think to myself that white car is relevant to MEE! But why?

Well tonight yet again I was looking at the Google Street photos and these visions of the cowgirl sex position kept flitting across my mind, and all I can say is I’m glad I’m not married or I’d have some serious lying to do because now I know WHY!

The event in question, the Google Pics, takes place early summer 2016!

Let me explain, I’d look at my little home on Google Street time to time, use the widgets and pointers to virtually ‘drive-by’, you’ve all done it, and so strange to see my new double glazing and stone shingle front garden. However when I logged on to the app using my Tablet I couldn’t get the question out of mind,

Who on earth owns that white MINI cabriolet parked

directly outside my house?  

Further still, the MINI must have some connection to myself because it’s parked half on the pavement and my estate is like a ghost Town, no one comes here! I’d look at my digital screens thinking, ‘well none of my neighbours own a MINI’, ‘no one I know is hipster enough to own a cabriolet car’, ‘so who on earth owns it?’

“OH MY GOD!” I shouted, and you may have deduced I’d worked out who the owner was and yes I knew her, she was a lady called Sophie and at the same time Google drove past my house taking photographs, Sophie and I were in bed together. Incidentally the window directly above the MINI is my front bedroom and you can’t see but curtains were drawn,

……….and God’s honest truth, as the Lord is my witness, on my collie dog Holly’s life, at about the same time as these pictures were taken, could have been the same time Sophie was sat on my hips. Yep you read that right, squeezing her tits with both hands as Sophie bounced up and down ‘on me’ like a good girl (age 30!) 🙂 I love Cowgirl sex.

Sophie and I were in bed the moment that photo was taken. For certain

How’s that for a coincidence plus I’m so pleased I’ve finally solved my puzzle! 😛 Because I know for fact whilst Sophie’s MINI was outside my house we were in bed together, and yes to answer my own question there IS a little more to these pictures than first meets the eye! Sophie was a casual lover found on the internet and the fact we’re in bed at the same time as Google drove past is pretty amazing! Amazing to me!

Coincidences, funny old world!

hhhh
‘Cowgirl’ heavenly sex for lazy men.

 

Andrew.

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Erotica. She let me cum……… (the ending)

Original story written by ©Andrew (Note intended to be read by mums dads adults, I can assure if you’re under age 16 you’ll be BORED witless, I ain’t joking! Go 😀 play a computer game and have more fun instead. Thank you 🙂 )

1486693605_c7eaa3f1

Continuation from She let me cum in her mouth pt3 and here’s how my story ends! But first setting the scene, Chantelle and I are naked in her London Flat: 

‘My body sinking into warm duvet and dutifully followed by my mature horny babe her wetness flowing out of her vagina like water drops slipping down glass in a rain storm, and like a reluctant virgin about to be deflowered on her wedding night she lay down beside me.’

Now the final part!

 ……………….a beautiful mature lady……if a little overweight! 

A middle aged tiredness brought us to our senses, we paused breathless our bodies breaking from their embrace, then Chantelle sitting up supporting herself on one elbow, looking through tousled naturel blond hair draped across false eyelashes, quietly says:

“You like kissy kissy don’t you!” whilst wiping lipstick from her mouth with a wet wipe bought to clean penis’s of their pussy juice…………..and before you ask, she was English white and lived in Norfolk………….as for her Flat? Our emailing? Long story 😀

“Andrew sweetie, roll over honey and I’ll massage your back!”, like a puppy dog I dutifully roll over as she draws her right thigh over as if to ride me! (Couldn’t resist that!)

Chantelle is a mature sexy goddess of a woman, very feminine a girly girl type, mind you ALL women are beautiful goddesses to me, so go on force yourself, try to picture a natural blonde sitting just below my ass cheeks her legs straddling my thighs, her knees firmly squeezing my thighs in vice like grip, and joy of joys feeling her soft shaven vagina lips dripping wet pressing into my peachy ass.

If truth be told I think she fancied a rest from kissing cuddling and rolling, now able to sit up upright, feeling the discomfort from nursing a bad back ease (I’ll explain later) and I should say she wasn’t a light woman, not overweight either, but I certainly felt her sitting on top of me, her weight straddling my thighs like a female horse jockey aloft her mustang steed, Chantelle telling fascinating tales of her exciting life, me quietly listening captivated and all the while her fingers kneading massaging my tense shoulders, then she stopped suddenly, my tired muscles released from tender dextrous touch, her still and motionless silence only broken because she must have glanced down at my peachy ass cheeks, then completely out of the blue she says,

“You know Andrew you’ve a fab looking ass for a man your age”

Are you at all curious why Chantelle nursed a bad back, do you know what 😀 , after all I’ve written about visual images burnt into my consciousness and virtual tape machines in my brain recording intimate conversations 😀 I cannot remember why she had a bad back, No idea except she suffered from one, perhaps she didn’t fancy the idea of sexual gymnastics or rolling round that double bed having mad passionate love making, wasn’t for me either, nope seemed we were both content with kissing cuddling massages and chatting, fine by us both.

Laying on soft duvet, legs wide apart she knelt between my open thighs holding my hard cock in her right hand rhythmically rubbing my shaft and foreskin up and down, bringing me to near point of orgasm and skilfully understanding when to stop me ejaculating……. one talented woman was Chantelle she gave a mean hand job! My body squirmed and wriggled under the power of her firm tight grip, me with one arm stretched out, palm of my hand grabbing one natural firm breast all soft and round, once I squeezed so tight a nipple showed between thumb and forefinger and she momentarily lost her rag yelling,

“fucking hell Andrew don’t do that!”

I love the intimacy of a woman wanking me off and in my experience a woman enjoys the sex act just as much as men, please tell me if I’m wrong. I so look forward to the squeal of delight when I shower her breasts with beads of sticky cum, or as Chantelle did now come the time she lowered her head mouth open inches above the tip of my penis, all the while working my hard member with her hand, guiding controlling my soon near climax, my carnal pleasures now heightened because joy of joy I knew what this angel of mercy (nurse lol) was about to do for me now. Crimson lips open hovering above the purple tip of my phallus, me laying on her bed arms stretched out like a crucified Jesus Christ, Chantelle kneeling dutifully waiting between my wide open thighs, then my back arched upward a thrusting spasm ejaculating warm silk milk across her tongue and deep into her throat, pumping until I could cum no more!

Finally my body all spent she pulled her head back releasing my cock from her drooling wet mouth, gazing at me, parted those glossy red lips wide open, poking her tongue out revealing my pool of cum, she tossed her head back gargling my cream in the back of her throat, then swallowed the sticky liquid down in one…. mascara running from her watering eyes choking as my gooey cum coated her windpipe, but she enjoyed it and with love in her eyes she licked her lips beamed a wide girly smile……….and said!

“I only swallow for good boys 😀 now pass me that wine!”

The End.

(I hope you enjoyed my tale, and for those readers who’re wondering “Fact or Fiction?” All I’ll say is my story’s a ‘blend’ of truth and fantasy, 😀 and a few comments I’ll reveal which.)

© Andrew (next one’s features back garden flowers)

Erotica, She let me cum……… pt3

An Original story written by ©Andrew 

(Continued from pt2)

yy99llllll……………..became friends, our email relationship had progressed to a point where one sunny afternoon in July, and not so long ago, I found myself in Chantelle’s London Flat ‘boudoir’ standing naked at the foot of a double bed inside her warm cosy bedroom, more precise I’d undressed totally nude only my hard cock to keep me company, holding it’s shaft in my hand a sort of comfort blanket, gently stroking calmed this horny guy excitedly anticipating heavenly pleasures only this voluptuous blonde could give me,

Oh did I say she was age 40!……………..Then through open door she walks this middle aged blonde goddess, with a big bum tight waste pert high round boobs, all dressed up as a nurse (backpage pic) in white mini-dress, her wide open cleavage as you’ve never seen in your life before.

We said hello, exchanged pleasantries and suddenly feeling quite emotional I moved to face her less than a metre apart, then peeking down her plunging neckline I moved closer still unbuttoning her all the way down, opening the white pinafore then slipping the soft cotton fabric backward over her shoulders, I remember standing transfixed dumb founded unable to move my eyes surveying up and down her pink naked body my brain trying to process this vision of beautiful naked womanhood. Chantelle has the firmest roundest most shapely breasts I’ve squeezed in my entire life, high and round about one handful. Then I place my hands above her hips pulling her body to me one final time, we embrace tightly, our heads along side each others, her baby soft cheeks pressing into my twelve hour stubble, her hushed voice saying,

“So Andrew what shall we do this fine afternoon?”

My heart beat slowed to normal, phew I thought to myself ‘we’re going to be ok, we’re going to have fun’ and completely relaxed I replied,

“Well in your email you said I could cum in your mouth and babe that sounds fine to me”, she giggled winked and said “not so fast honey, I want you inside my mouth but first some kissy kissy” and with that she grabbed great handfuls of my plump buttocks, her head leaning back giggling like the little girl Chantelle really was!

Then I kissed Chantelle, passionately, tongues deep inside the each other’s mouth, wet with saliva entwining dancing all you readers being aware there’s no body part more sensitive than the tongue………..we must have kissed for twenty minutes, you think I make this sh*t up? 😀 Nope, our embrace became tighter, bodies touching ever more intimate, my hands moving from hips to squeezing fat buttock cheeks then back to her hips again, we kiss ever more passionately, devouring, breathless into each other’s mouths, even red lipstick smeared across our lips, I thought her face appeared amusing until I saw my reflection in a mirror later.

I’m a boob man through and through, large or small pert or sagging, means no odds to me as long as I can play with them, suckle on a nipple, drink like a new born babe then I’m happy and satisfied. What does breast milk taste of? I’ve bottle fed my nephew with J’s own milk craving to suck just once but I didn’t!

I longed to touch Chantelle’s breasts, but our bodies were tooo close! “Loosen up girl!!!” I said momentarily pulling away!

We continued to kiss, two naked silhouettes drawn together, her arms wrapped less tightly around my waist pulling holding me against her, her warmth touched every part of the front of my body, such an affectionate embrace of two lovers who’d been here before. Aroused, sexually excited I struggled to slip my hand between our bodies so I could grope her firm breasts, but I’d been a worried man when we first cuddled, I could feel my aroused hardness pushing between her inner thighs, the pressure making the base of my purple bell end tingle, thousands of nerve endings electrified and I thought to myself ‘what if in my excitement I’d entered her, my now horizontal phallus pushed deep in to her wet vagina pressing against her womb, throbbing engorged with blood, hell I may have spontaneously orgasmed sticky cum inside, consensual mind, is involuntary semen exchange rape if she hadn’t expected my phallic explosion! But not to worry I missed her pink gash, I don’t much like fucking anyway but all’s well 🙂 my engorged phallus slipped between Chantelle’s warm squeezed thighs, briefly stroking wet labia lips, mind you hers did flap about a bit, we kissed and kissed and deep French kissed some more, many a minute passed before we spoke again.

I guess with tired lips and aching jaws we must have mutually sensed it time to stop the wonderful French, so backing away I moved on to her bed, body sinking into warm duvet and dutifully followed by my mature horny babe her wetness flowing out of her vagina like water drops slipping down glass in a rain storm, and like a reluctant virgin about to be deflowered on her wedding night she lay down beside me. We embraced affectionately then as tight as before, gently rolling over each other for what will be one of the more fantastic afternoons of my life, as for her? She always said she had fun but this time she wanted something different. 

So lovely readers 😀 we leave our two lovers for the moment, embraced facing each other kissing on the lips, all very tender and motionless.

:/

For months previous to first meeting we chatted time to time via email, Snapchat FB Twitter and Skype aren’t for me, aren’t for us, todays young internet generation can’t comprehend how two people can ‘play’ without help of social media and tell me where’s the harm daily writing to each other as our forbears would have? Do children today understand that written exchanges between lovers go as far back as Jane Austin times?

Who?

Love letters sent between lovers possessing intriguing codes secrets and hidden messages keeping each other guessing even after the letter is returned to it’s envelope, I enjoy email, it f*cking stresses me out mind, many a time I’ll press send then panic with questions of, ‘did I express myself as I intended? Oh God have I offended her? Worse still upset?’ Not to worry, more often than not my replies made her smile even laugh sometimes. Long ago I came to a decision not to on-line date, women have told me the horror stories, explained how scams work, perhaps I’m a cynic, for one thing is sure I know there are lots of lonely ladies out there, perhaps I should give it a try, honesty is one aspect of WordPress that is plain to see, the blogger you are reading is bearing her soul, truthful and trusting, me also because not a single word is a lie………………come to think of it perhaps on my old blog I did say I’d done anal, that must have been some weird dream because I haven’t been there…………..yet, enough and I’m SORRY!!!!!

Returning to naked me and Chantelle our bodies near joined as one tenderly rolling atop her double bed, me luckiest man alive hugging a beautiful mature lady……if a little overweight!

To be continued in my fourth and final part

©Andrew ❤

Erotica. She let me cum……… pt1

Original story written by ©Andrew

shutterstock_56040232

……………then again perhaps I didn’t cum in her mouth and this is a fictional tale.
 
I remember sexy times with ladies as vivid images burnt across my mind, I remember conservations as if my brain possessed an old style tape recording machine, mental powers alone able to press a virtual reality play button whilst sitting on a commuting bus, gazing out the window daydreaming and bored………..Jeez there’s so many unforgettable conversations to replay then again some deeply regrettable, perhaps this is a privilege only bestowed upon persons using public transport? I really mean that, an opportunity tailor made for talented bloggers unlike me. (Ahh, but true!)

Yes you did read that right, public transport! It’s a question of time my lovelies solitary boredom feeds a wandering mind! Good that. 

Sometimes I glance around people sitting on the top deck going to work, all doing very little, a few talking in hushed tones and not many read or listen to music which might surprise you, perhaps the jolting swaying down country lanes puts people off I know it does me. Most are silent deep in thought gazing out the windows, and I’ll find myself sitting there watching faces so curious, wondering what conversations and life stories they are playing back on their virtual tape machines? Arguments, happy times, last night’s telly or daydreaming sexual encounters they’ve had or wished they’d had, that pretty Sunday School teacher, a large bust so out of proportion for her slender figure, morning worship and I’d sit in the pew behind staring at the back of her bra, fantasies of what wonders the lingerie held up.

How many of you have the opportunity to sit alone each day, calm quiet with only your thoughts for company and if you’re really unlucky, two hours each day. Squandered precious time, Yes of course it is!

The deck of a bus holds forty adults all sexes and ages trapped constrained by passengers sitting next to them, all with important places to go, yes I’d agree if you said self inflicted solitude is dull and boring, if that’s what you’re thinking, but I’m here to tell you commuting to work by bus or train is one of life’s opportunities to let your imagination run riot, here comes the naughty bit.

No word of a lie many a time I’ve been travelling to work on a bus with an attractive young lady sitting next to me, I ain’t no perv mind but if you said voyeur, I am. I have been known to surreptitiously keep half an eye on her legs if she’s wearing a dress or skirt, you see when a lady sits you’ll know her skirt hem slips towards her hips, gliding across smooth black nylon tights revealing her shapely thighs squeezed tightly together, pussy lips closed tightly shut, her hem line resting distance dependent on the skirt’s length to begin with. Inconsequentials such as skirt length can make or break a bachelors day, if the lady works for a bank I’ll see her knees and little else, if she’s a College student (age 16+) chances are her skirt hem stops inches below her soft cotton gusset, knickers filled with forbidden fruit tasting moist and sweet on a guys tongue………………well pussy’s always taste sweet to me!

Where was I? Commuting to work by bus! Hmm before becoming side tracked by thoughts of female legs I hope I’ve explained that far from being boring quiet solitude, the rhythmic side to side rocking of a bus allows one’s imagination to race with perhaps dreams of conquests past……………………or then again what to cook for the children’s tea tonight………. you pays your money you takes your choice……….. and those of you who blog, maybe you’re a little envious? Nah Andrew don’t be silly, the gift of time is ticking away.

Returning to me seated next to a young lady, when opportunity permits gazing at her smooth thighs (student not banker), and bare in mind commuting etiquette necessitates let’s call rule number one, that two human bodies never knowingly touch other, not even the slightest of contact’s……. do and you’ll get an evil glare, slip a hand between her thighs and you’ll get five years inside! ……..I’ll reach the end of this bloody ‘hosiery’ tale if it takes all evening!!!! Time to time I’ll peek at her black tighted thighs, highly erotic and turning me on but not exciting enough to give me a full hard on, the young lady quite oblivious unless she herself looks down aware blood is engorging my groin causing a hump in my jean crotch.

Little does she know, her oh so sexy legs recall memories of pleasant afternoon’s spent in bed with females of my own, my now perfumed neighbour overpowering my consciousness. I wait in eager anticipation when a bus stops hoping for a pretty lady to sit next to me, clutching her handbag drawn into her tummy and if I rest my elbow on the window seal, support the weight of my head via hand and forearm, I can twist my torso slightly and watch her out the corner of my eye without her noticing, I hope, and when the bus rides a bump I see her heavy bust bounce or jiggle if she’s little tits, really lucky if her collars open I may even see the hint of a bra cup, that quickens my breath and makes my heart beat a little faster, a vapour of cheap perfume wafting my nostrils, bras boobs black tighted thighs give rise to a harder phallus…………even came in my boxers once, wonder if she noticed………so ladies if you’re sitting on a train next to a guy don’t assume he’s contemplating the weather! 😉

Got there in the end! Am I a naughty boy? :/ Or am I worse?

I could write a book of tape recorded stories in my brain, oh I already have, they’re all on my first blog LONG ago deleted………….and why is a long story! But in hindsight I’m pleased I kept no copies, so beware all you poets, story tellers and bloggers, keep copies, back up your files! 

The heavenly tale I’m soon to tell, remember you still have an opportunity to run, all……..

To be continued, and I ain’t deleting this time! 1000 words done 2000 to go.

© Andrew ❤

50 – The lady at the bus stop. Pt 1 (of 2)

Tabby-GirlAtBusStop.jpgAfter first titling my post ‘Sex and a lady at the bus stop’, I’ve just remembered I have a tale to tell which in fact involves sex AT a bus stop!…….Hmmm that’s a story for some other time but alas I didn’t f#ck her behind that skip after she’d finished with my friends……….. one of the biggest regrets of my life, I had the chance, she wanted to but another friend stopped me for good reasons, he knew I’d had tooo much to drink, he looked after me and must have sensed our evening out together was in danger of getting out of hand. But still pulling her off me whilst we were kissing at the bus stop does seem a little mean all these years later and NO she was NOT a hooker! (Btw we were all age 17, us boys, her and all her :/ friends?)

Don’t despair, bare with me, my introduction misogyny and silliness done with, this post is very much more personal than usual and very much written for me, so much so I very nearly disabled likes and comments, we’ll see.

Introspection is all very well as long as there’s a point to self analysis, looking inwards questioning why life isn’t how I’d like it to be or would like it to be can quickly make way to feeling sorry for oneself, and wallowing in self pity isn’t a pretty sight further still brooding over life’s regrets can be self destructive! Then again, time to time reflecting on one’s direction in life doesn’t hurt once in a while and where better place to write than on a blog.

Talking of blogs, do you 😀 really need to know or want to understand the reason why? Why I haven’t been here? No not really because you all have lives to lead, so Andrew of what cryptic nonsense do you speak? I began November blogging a post everyday for 18 days but then a week ago I stopped, now understand I’ve been chastised in the past for apologising so I won’t, all I will say is I squeezed a boob and licked a nipple Wednesday evening……………..a HUMAN female breast I might add!!!!!!……….I know she sounds fantastic but being with her wasn’t love and I’m someone who wants to be in love and hates being single :/ one night stands are ok I guess, you know sex then go your separate ways, but lust is a deadly sin for a good reason, sex without love is well…..a little pointless.

Why am I still single and living on my own? How did I come to be a bachelor when all I’ve ever wanted needed is to be in a loving relationship? I’m not going to even try to explain why just understand the reasons are complicated, the opposite sex confuse and baffle me and I’ve NEVER been skilled at reading a woman’s body language or the signals she gives of herself?

Whether you can live with a lady is immaterial, just know you can’t live without her…….. 🙂 ahhh.

Over the past two years I’ve followed hundreds of ladies writing of their relationship happiness also heart rending horrific tales here on WordPress. True stories of living with controlling abusive narcissistic partners and the emotional scars and wounds their abusers behaviour leave behind, and yes I felt desperately sad for the ladies and their predicaments to the point I stopped reading because they upset me so….. you see I feel tremendous empathy towards people enduring sadness and hardship, reading was I guess a form of voyeurism but at the same time their accounts were so upsetting I sensed they were also emotionally damaging and yes unhealthy so I had to stop…… there’s only so much of other peoples sadness you can take on board!!!

But rather selfishly I’m questioning myself tonight, asking myself ‘why the hell am I still single when I’d never treat another woman so awfully?’ I’m a nice man, horrible word I know but it’ll suffice 🙂 I’m a nice guy I enjoy the company of women, I’m respectful polite and never arrogant, I listen often captivated by their femininity humour, very often amused by their funny little ways and of course I enjoy their sexuality always at a respectful distance mind!! However I live alone and internet dating isn’t the answer………..f#cking nightmare……don’t ever bother.

A married friend of mine says women are a different species, unfathomable emotionally irrational sometimes a little unstable, however he wouldn’t wish to be unmarried for all the world, by all accounts my friend and his wife argue, as do all couples but they obviously still love each other because they’ve reached 50 together! Btw he’s also a gobshite who says during sex he’ll gaze at the bedroom wallpaper just so as to take his mind off the job in hand, apparently convincing himself ‘to redecorate’, ‘musing over colour schemes’, ‘setting a start date’ apparently mundane thoughts help prolong the intercourse, you know leave the moment of ejaculation for as long a time as possible, he says “it keeps her happy!”

😀 Back to me! Why AM I still single? I’m a nice man, I would never strike a woman, I have never sworn in front of a lady to the point this week I told a guy off at work for saying fuck and shit in front of a young Pakistani lady, his defence was she’s just a technician like the rest of us, BULLSHIT she’s a lady and he (my boss) was being a disrespectful misogynistic bastard! Afterwards I spoke to her and she said she wasn’t offended, laughed the abuse off because it wasn’t personal but I differ, work aggravation or not the issue wasn’t her fault and she didn’t need to witness language like that. I’m an honourable man, there are standards and rules, yes she works on a par in a man’s world but she’s still a lady and should be treated as such.

HOWEVER I’m not perfect, far from it, I’m prone to sulking rather than shouting and swearing, I guess my retort to difficult interpersonal situations is to go all ‘silent treatment’ you know act in a very childish manner, ‘you’ve upset me so I’m not speaking to you any more’ all very juvenile but so much better than lashing out verbally.

Btw I didn’t sit down to write a post about relationships, believe it or not I intended to share photographs I taken in the Lake District a UK national park, so heaven knows how I came to be questioning why I’m still single? Btw ‘WHY’ is a long long story too complicated for even WordPress tonight or ever!!!! I’ll leave photos for another day and see where this unplanned post goes?

To be continued……………..