Fuck Doll - The Wrong Date - Sex Stories

Fuck Doll - The Wrong Date

... said. “But, she said the 23rd ,” I answered. “I have it on my agenda.” “Yes, the 23rd ,” She repeated, “And today is the 16th . You are only coming next week.” I took out my phone and opened the calendar application. She was right. I had somehow managed to mix up the weekends and had just spent an hour on the road for nothing. I blushed at the stupidity of my mistake. Thinking it through further, I realized that I had created a recurring appointment for the wrong alternating weekends after Sally, my ex-wife, had asked to change because of her fortnightly Saturday pottery classes. “You see?” Said Bianka, “You are not on the right date.” She was leaning back against the kitchen counter top, the arch of her back showing that she was skinny and flexible. I desperately wanted to rip off her clothes and fuck her silly, but I didn’t even know who she was. “Who are you?” I blurted, “I mean, what relation are you to my ex-wife?” I couldn’t have been clumsier. The poor girl didn’t even know if I was who she thought I was. I could have been a random stranger ringing the doorbell. She had graciously opened the door and welcomed me into the house, and now I was giving her the third degree. “I’m her lesbian lover,” Bianca said with a gravitas that lasted only a couple of seconds, but enough to make my jaw drop. “I’m an au pair,” She laughed wickedly, seeing my shock. “You thought it was true?” I loved her accent and her sense of humor. She had me hooked. Damn, I wanted to bed her. ...

... “Amusing,” I said, smiling through my embarrassment. “Of course I didn’t believe you.” I was such a klutz. She must have seen me coming from a mile away. She knew damned well that I had totally believed her and that I was putty in her hands. She was messing with an older man, teasing and titillating him for her pleasure. “I am Bianka from Hungary,” She said. “And you are Mr. Ballard from England.” “Yes, that’s correct,” I replied. I felt like I was in some weird English lesson. “Yes, that correct,” she repeated, mocking me. “You are a funny man.” “Your wife has given me a room,” She continued. “Would you like to see it?” “Holy fuck!” I thought to myself, “She wants me to see her room. Is that an invitation?” “Oh, sure,” I responded, trying to sound neutral about her proposition. --- She walked up the stairs in front of me, while I followed, observing the swaying of her cute little ass. Her shorts were so tiny that I caught glimpses of her white cotton panties with each step she made. I could feel the pre-cum oozing from the end of my knob with the excitement. --- “And this is my wardrobe,” she announced, as though that were supposed to impress me. “Very nice,” I said, hoping to come up with a suitable line to make her want to have sex with me. “And my panty drawer,” She said, laughing. “It is called a panty drawer, right?” “Yes,” I answered, trying to answer her questions technically correctly and not to ogle at her vast assortment of undergarments. At a glimpse, I could see that she ...