A Hard Slippering for Nude Doug - Sex Stories

A Hard Slippering for Nude Doug

... shouted out at me: "We know where you've been... we know where you've been..."

I ignored them and picked up my pace, now more anxious to get to the stop and the bus which would take me into the centre where I could board my train for home.

There were only a handful of passengers on the bus, and I wondered if any of them could smell traces of sperm on me. Probably not. But I was a little paranoid. Of course, I could have driven but had I broken down or been involved in an accident, questions might have been asked as to why I was in that area -- less risky to use public transport and pay by cash.

The closer I got to home the more relaxed I became, as though I was becoming the individual I sought to be for public consumption, that the sordid encounter would gradually fade with time, was an aberration, an out of character one-off...

But a little voice in my head knew otherwise, that I'd crossed a Rubicon in my psyche, that what I'd subjected myself to was incredibly intense and arousing, and possibly dangerously addictive too -- I was conflicted.Seriously conflicted.

On the way back from the station I called in at the local Indian takeaway and picked up aChicken Dhansak withPilau Rice - I'd fancied one for a while and as Lesley, my wife, was up in Scotland for a couple of weeks catching up with her relatives and didn't like curries herself I thought I'd treat myself.

After I'd eaten, I'd washed up before settling down to a bottle of beer and slipping my ...

... favourite DVD on:Pulp Fiction. I enjoyed the film but the scene whenMarcellus Wallace... well, you know the scene, it kind of made me uncomfortable...

And then I thought of Lesley blissfully unaware as to what I'd got up to that afternoon whilst she was probably chatting to her sister about how wonderful I was and how good life was with me, Doug, down south, and how happy I had made her. How content I'd made her, which was just an excuse for her putting on eight stone over a period of ten years.

I guess also she wasn't sharing with them all how she loved being held down whilst I shagged her up the arse whilst she frigged herself off, and I in turn never shared with her my depraved masochistic fantasies. God, it was a fucking mess. A charade. Still, she wouldn't be back for another ten days which gave enough time for my bruises to disappear.

That Wednesday evening I'd gone to bed and naked above the covers I'd first run my hands over my buttocks prior to masturbating about the events of the afternoon. I'd then fallen asleep quite quickly.

In the morning I'd woken refreshed, had showered, breakfasted, and then put on my suit for work. I'd also put on my smile and cheery demeanour façade too.

It had only taken me about thirty minutes to get to the office -- the Thursday morning traffic had been quite light for a change -- where I had been greeted by Mrs Sturgeon who had informed me that the new Area Manager was waiting to be introduced to me (I was the Depot Manager) in ...