Stripped Naked on his Plush Couch - Sex Stories

Stripped Naked on his Plush Couch

Em’s arms were outstretched, above her head. Her long sexy legs were spread widely, the left one down with the knee bent and a man’s hot hand gripping the bend, just behind the knee, the right one raised and resting on the man’s shoulder. The man was naked. Em was too. She was wearing nothing but a bangle on her right wrist and her wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand. She was looking intently down the length of her torso, past her breasts with their hard, raised nipples, past her lick-me-again-please belly-button, at the tiny little triangle of hair on her mound. Just below this, a thick, slick, hard and very long cock was about to part her wet pussy lips and thrust into her hot vagina. She could feel the cheeks of her trimly hot ass pushing into the pink fabric of the couch on which she had just been stripped naked. She knew she was leaving a huge wet patch on it. She didn’t care. She looked with fascination at the big cock that was about to take her. She knew she would shout when it thrust inside. She knew she would continue shouting until she came and the cock grew suddenly even bigger and harder and filled her with huge, hot ejaculations of cum. The man, when he removed her little black cocktail frock as she lay face down on the couch where he had placed her, had told her that she had the hottest ass he had seen in a very long time. This pleased her but did not surprise her. Her ass was certainly sexy and it was clad in an ultra-tiny purple lace string ...

... that hid absolutely nothing, and certainly not her hotly wet and open slit. She had worn the little garment that evening because she’d planned to go on to a night club after dinner. She knew from experience that a glimpse of it on the dance floor would guarantee her an invitation to party on elsewhere. She was travelling and had been feeling very horny for three or four days. She needed a very firm hot cock. The man had been seated next to her at dinner. They had chatted about business. It was a business dinner, after all. Em’s cocktail frock was short, the hem just above the knee. It perfectly showed off her sexy legs, clad in sheer black stockings. Its neckline, lower than Em would have worn if she had not been hunting, gave by way of a slightly risqué revelation of cleavage a suitably come-on hint of pert, firm breasts within and a tantalizing glimpse of the insubstantial black lace bra that only just corralled them. As the main course was cleared away ahead of an intermission in the dinner’s proceedings, the man leaned to his right, in her direction, and whispered into her ear, “I think we may have some mutual interests to discuss after dinner.” Em took a quick, surreptitious look at his crotch. The fine tailoring could not hide the engagingly large bulge she saw there. She said, “Yes, I think we do. Let’s make the arrangements in the bar. I’m dying for a cigarette.” They had introduced themselves earlier, along with the other six guests at the table. She knew his name was ...