Ignoring the Signs (Circa 1978) - Sex Stories

Ignoring the Signs (Circa 1978)

... times when some of the larger deliveries couldn’t be taken in the back door. So to minimise any agonising pain or discomfort during penetration, ‘Trap 2’ would be used to widen and lubricate the anal passage. She once confessed that she often inserted the magical device inside her anus during sexual intercourse. Someone had told her that if you apply pressure against the prostate gland during intercourse the stimulation from the vibrator pressing against the prostate heightened the intensity of sexual arousal. He thought about telling her that women didn’t have a prostate gland and this ritual was unique only to men. He decided not to say anything. Why should he. Heather enjoyed her sex more than any woman he had ever known, and if she was ‘getting off’ on her fantasy what right had he to meddle in her recreational pleasures. Heather Chapman’s sympathetic voice and comforting smile came with an invitation. The sea front car park above the cliffs of Tynemouth beach was a place he was familiar with, although at two in the morning he was surprised to find it full. There’s a small gap in the barrier fence at the end of the car park that leads to a small dirt track above the cliffs. But remember it’s very close to the cliff edge.... said a cautious voice inside his head. A brief moment of hesitation and a frustrated sigh, a cavalier impulse kicking away caution, a quick turn of the steering wheel, the tyres spinning over the gravel surface, the headlights beaming intrusively ...

... against the steamy windows of other cars, casting shadowy silhouettes of couples engaged in various stages of copulation, the sound of the engine alerting faceless lovers that an intruder had just entered their carnal arena. Ignoring the warning sign, turning the headlights on full beam, navigating the car through the narrow gap in the fence, a careful manoeuvre over the grassy terrain, the suspension protesting against the uneven ground, making sure he avoided the rocks and the muddy area directly above the cliffs. When Heather Chapman performed fellatio you knew you had been given the best blow-job of your life. A well-practiced oral technique, never hurried, slow and meaningful, a prolonged and sustained commitment of intimate acquaintance, always performed with sensuous ease, working the swollen shaft with the skill and finesse of an artist, easing him into her warm mouth, swallowing the length down to the root, blowing him out in whispers of warm air, sweeping her talented tongue up and down the length with flirtatious precision, teasing the bulbous head in a messy sea of oral fluids, a ritual stimulation of oral interaction, a mind-blowing performance to remember. Heart beats increasing, a visceral surge of adrenaline flooding through veins at the speed of sound, the expectation of coital connection fuelling the fire of urgent compulsion, clothes abandoned on the floor in a heartbeat, climbing into the back seat in an unceremonious manoeuvre of increasing urgency, a hesitant ...