The Squad - Sex Stories

The Squad

... thought you rugby players were big beer drinkers.”

“Not at our level. Alcohol is a disaster for fitness and concentration, and we have a match tomorrow afternoon. But that doesn't stop you from indulging. So what’s your poison, Angel?"

I looked along the well-stocked shelves.

“Gin and tonic, please, with ice.”

Carrying our drinks, we went back to the sofa and sat quite prim and proper, chatting in a small group with Bok and Hosepipe.

“Does it mean working together in the front row makes you socialise together?”

“Sometimes.”

Gradually, the other players left, and the four of us were alone. After a while, I glanced back and saw Bok and Hosepipe had drifted over to the bar with their backs to us.

I turned to face Jules, and for the third time, he took my hand in his.

“You are very beautiful, my Angel.”

I was locked into his eyes. Everything inside of me was churning; I could feel the dampness between my legs. I wanted him desperately.

"Please, can I kiss you just once more?"

How could I resist?

“Yes, Jules, just once more.”

He stood close in front of me, then lifted his shirt over his head in one swift movement. I gasped at the beauty of him. Black tattoos snaked around his upper body and arms; he looked so powerful, with hard muscles everywhere—a man beyond my wildest dreams who was standing a hand’s width away. I did not give a moment’s thought as to why he wanted to make love to me, a slightly podgy sixty-year-old, forty years older ...

... than, and almost the polar opposite of, Kirsten, his teenage girlfriend.

He leaned in and brushed his lips on mine. Just like before, the kiss was very long. I did not want it to end, and this time his hands were constantly wandering over my back, and I was becoming very aroused. He leaned against me, and his weight pushed me down, flat on the soft cushions.

My hands pressed his face against mine. I was lost; caution and restraint were thrown away, so when his big hand pressed into my crotch, I accepted what was about to happen and did not resist when he slid under my skirt and pulled the hem up to my waist. He realised there were no knickers to slow his progress, so he grasped his opportunity, pressing his thumb against my wet pussy lips.

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2: Stefan

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Kirsten led me out of the reception area, through a door that led to a passageway that seemed to run the length of the building. For a moment, I thought about Angie’s reaction when she was introduced to that huge black man. I know her so well that I can read her face like an open book. She was smitten, almost simpering, as he took her hand in his great paw and lifted it to his lips.

We were nearly at the end of the passage when Kirsten stopped by what appeared to be the last side door. I saw she was holding a key in her hand, which she pushed into the lock, then turned it and pushed down on the door handle. I heard the tumblers drop as the door drifted open; the crack gave nothing away as to what the room ...