Caught Short Again - Sex Stories

Caught Short Again

... now are you?’ she laughed. ‘I think I might call you Sherlock! Well, if you can work out where I live from the following clues, you can come and have your wicked way with me. I’m on the number five bus route, close to a kids’ play park. My house number, if you wrote it down as a word, would start with the letters T-O. Got that?’ I was always shit at memory games as a kid, and was frantically trying to remember all she’d said, so decided to play for time. ‘Okay. You can be thinking what you’d like me to do to you when I get there.’ ‘That’s easy. I want you to pee on me! There’s a convenience store near here. Stop and buy plenty of water to drink. I don’t want to taste your undiluted beery piss this time!’ ‘What’s the name of the store?’ I asked, desperately trying to keep my cock under control. ‘You’re the detective, Sherlock. You work it out,’ she chuckled. ‘Good luck!’ And with that she rang off. Fuck! I hadn’t been prepared for a treasure hunt, but a golden shower with this sexy woman sounded like a whole lot of hot and horny fun. As I’d met my mysterious MILF in town, I grabbed a cab from the pub and told the driver to head for the bus station. He looked puzzled, so I told him I was meeting a friend there, off the number five bus. He dropped me at the terminus and I soon found the right stop for that service. As I’d hoped, there was a map of the route attached to the wall of the bus shelter. Result! One of the stops was ‘Coronation Park’ and I guessed that must be the ...

... kids’ play park she’d mentioned. Just at that moment a bus pulled into the stop and I hopped on, giving the park as my destination. The Gods were definitely smiling on me and, as we coasted to a halt outside the park gates, I looked across the road and there was the 7-11 store on the opposite corner. Virtually skipping off the bus, I headed straight for the shop and bought eight litres of drinking water! I was on a promise and didn’t want to take any chances that I couldn’t ‘perform’. With the heavy bottles stowed in two carrier bags I headed off down Park Road, looking for either number 21 or 31, as they were the only two to fit her final clue. The odd numbers were all on the same side as the shop, so finding number 21 was fairly easy. It was a mid-terraced house, in dire need of some TLC, with tatty lace curtains at the windows, peeling paintwork, and weeds growing out of the path. I figured a smart babe like my coffee shop conquest would not live in squalor and so I headed for number 31, which turned out to be a neat, detached house, set back from the road in its own grounds. Much more like it! Walking as briskly as I could up the garden path, allowing for the eight litres of water and my semi-erect cock, I rang the bell and waited. I thought I heard an excited yelp from inside the house and then saw an upstairs curtain twitch. The sound of footsteps on the stairs was followed by the unmistakable click-clack of high heels on parquet flooring. There was a spy hole in the front ...