Seriously Sexy Stocking Filler

by Miranda Forbes

  “Mrs Dunning? The boys are ready for you.”

  Claire followed the white-coated attendant through into the most beautiful treatment room she’d ever set foot in. The massage couch was twice as wide as a normal one and covered in fluffy white towels. The walls were hung with red velvet drapes and at the far end a pair of French doors opened on to a simulated view of a sunset over a tropical beach. Fans wafted a scented breeze towards her.

  She took off her robe and settled herself on the couch, shutting her eyes in anticipation. Somewhere behind her she heard a door open and close and then four warm, oiled hands touched down gently on her back. They began to slide slowly up and down either side of her spine in perfect synchronicity and Claire gave a deep sigh of pleasure. The hands worked around her tight shoulder muscles and then down again to knead out the little knots of tension she always carried at the base of her spine before dropping to her buttocks.

  Now they were going lower still, taking a thigh each, smoothing their thumbs up the soft flesh of her inner thighs, stopping just short of the apex. Claire felt a finger brush against her labia and shivered involuntarily. There was a softly spoken apology in an Eastern European accent.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said, half-asleep, turning her head to look at him. Wow. Julie hadn’t been kidding. Suddenly she was impatient for them to finish her calf muscles so she could roll over and look at them properly.

  It seemed to take them longer to work her calves than it did to do the rest of her, but finally she was able to turn onto her back, a towel carefully placed over her mound for modesty, her breasts bare. She lifted her head and met two ice-blue stares set in chiselled faces. They were topless, dressed only in loose trousers and both had a bulge clearly visible in the crotch area.

  She lay back on the couch, smiling to herself. It was nice to know that someone still found her body attractive. Treat yourself to something lovely, Ed had said. She hadn’t found anything she wanted in the shops, but there were two very lovely somethings right here that she found herself wanting very much.

  As they worked their way back up her legs, Claire reached out and laid a hand on each of their arms, making a long stroke with one finger from their wrists to the inside of their elbows. She felt their hands falter and saw them exchange a question – and-answer glance across her near-naked body.

  “You’re Julie’s friend, right?” the blond – Soren, she assumed – asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Julie asked us to be extra-nice to you because your husband is a – what’s the word?”

  “Prick,” Pieter supplied.

  Claire smiled. “He can be.”

  “So we will give you the extra-special massage and send you home with a big smile, yes?”

  “Yes please.”

  The small towel was whisked away and she lay back, fully naked. Sven and Pieter remained on either side of her, each caressing a breast with one hand and stroking her belly with the other. Thumbs teased her nipples to hard pink peaks before they were replaced by two mouths, sucking gently at her. She rested her hands on their heads – one dark, one fair – and arched her back with pleasure.

  Pieter released her nipple and trailed his tongue down the underside of her breast, over her ribcage in one sizzling hot lick, took a lazy swirl around her belly button and then slid it down the crease at the top of her thigh and onto her clit. Claire gasped as her body juddered, as if she’d been plugged into the mains.

  Pieter’s tongue stroked her just as sweetly as his hands had – firm, sure, slow sweeps over and around her clit. She shut her eyes and groaned. Soren replaced his lips with his hands on her breasts and began to kiss her, exploring her mouth just as thoroughly as his colleague was exploring her cunt.

  Claire didn’t want it to end, but could feel how close she was to coming. Every nerve in her body seemed to be singing the Hallelujah Chorus and as Pieter stretched her thighs open wide, wider, wider still, and then sucked hard on her clit, almost as if it was a miniature cock, she tumbled over into her orgasm, her shout muffled by Soren’s mouth hard on hers.

  As she basked in the afterglow of her climax, they began to stroke her again; long, firm sweeps of her body, palms smoothed by warm oil. “That was fantastic,” Claire murmured, eyes closed, on the verge of dozing off.

  She heard a soft chuckle above her and the hands lifted off her skin. “That was just to warm you up,” Pieter said. “Now we’re going to give you a Christmas present to remember.”

  She heard the soft whisper of clothing and opened her eyes to see they’d shed their trousers and were naked, two perfect lean bronzed bodies and two hard cocks standing to attention, ready for duty.

  Claire sat up, looking from one to the other, undecided for a second. Then she rolled onto her hands and knees and swivelled around, balancing across the massage table. Dipping her head, she touched her tongue to Pieter’s cock, smiling to herself as she saw his hands clench into fists at the contact. She swirled her tongue round the head, licking the glistening drop of moisture from the tip. Behind her, Soren had moved in close to slide his cock between her legs, letting it glide over her cunt and clit, spreading her lips and coating himself in her juices. She arched her back and rubbed herself against him, feeling the pulse between her legs start up a slow beat again.

  Soren put a hand on her hip to steady himself, then slid his full length inside her. At the same time, Pieter laced his fingers through her hair and gripped tightly as she sucked his cock into her mouth. Picking up on Soren’s slow strokes in her cunt, she passed the rhythm on to Pieter, their cocks sliding in and out of her body in unison.

  Only one thing was missing. Transferring her weight to her left hand, Claire reached underneath her with her right and began stroking her clit, which had swollen to double its normal size. Soren noticed and gently stopped her. “We make it better for you,” he said. “Today, we do all the work.”

  Pieter withdrew from her mouth and sat on the end of the massage table. Soren helped Claire, now almost rubber-limbed with pleasure, sit astride his lap and she groaned as she felt his cock slide straight into her sopping wet slit. Pieter gripped her waist and leaned back, pulling her with him and slipping a hand between them to finger her clit. Behind her she felt Soren cupping her buttocks, spreading her cheeks to expose her arse. Then his tongue touched the small of her back and he traced a delicate line straight down her crevice and into her arse.

  God, if she’d thought she’d come hard earlier, it was nothing compared to what this next one was going to be like. Soren’s tongue was exploring her more intimately than anyone had before, pushing inside her, lapping her, licking her, while Pieter’s cock massaged her cunt and his fingers circled her clit.

  Soren moved behind her and Claire felt the tip of his cock nudge against her arse. Still slick with her juice, it rubbed against her hole, prodding her, questioning.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” she breathed.

  She held still and he pushed into her ever so slowly, a millimetre at a time. Claire felt her muscles resist and then stretch, to accommodate him. Every fraction of an inch deeper seemed to trigger a new tingle of pleasure and underneath her Pieter groaned as the pressure increased on his cock, still buried up to the hilt inside her.

  Claire began to move again, but no matter which way she rocked she couldn’t get both of them as deep inside her as she needed. She whimpered, frustrated.

  Pieter sat up. Four strong hands wrapped themselves around her thighs and as he rose to his feet she was lifted up, sandwiched tightly between the two men. And now, finally, both their cocks were rammed home inside her, fucking her hard. Two mouths roamed over her neck and shoulders, licking and biting as they went.

  She could feel the explosion building now, not just in her clit – which was so swollen that it stood proud of her lips and rubbed against Pieter’s body – but from somewhere deep inside her
pelvis, where those two hard cocks rubbed against a thin wall of flesh. Sweat ran down her back and between her breasts as she tensed her muscles, gripping the cocks inside her. She heard both men groan and as she continued to flex her cunt she felt her orgasm rip through every muscle in her body, contracting and releasing over and over again. The men kept her held tight between them. She felt their orgasms, one after the other, and still she shook as her climax continued in waves.

  She didn’t know how long it was before the ringing in her ears stopped. The men laid her gently back on the couch and covered her with fresh towels before dressing quickly.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs Dunning,” Soren murmured, bending to kiss her forehead.

  “Yes, merry Christmas,” said Pieter, doing the same.

  They left the room and a few minutes later Julie burst through the door.

  “Claire! Good grief, are you all right? I heard the shrieking in reception!’

  The towels were soft and warm and it was almost too much effort for Claire to open an eye and reply.

  “I’m fine, Jules. Can you set me up a standing appointment once a month? Ed’s card is in my bag. For once he’s going to buy me a Christmas present I’ll actually enjoy.”

  Re-invention

  by Jodie Davis

  ‘I’m not coming. I’m staying here for another week.’

  ‘You’re off your head,’ snapped Josh tossing clothes into a bag, ‘I’ve had enough of this bloody place. I’m out of here.’ He paused only for a few moments to close the holdall with a whoosh. ‘Look Mel, I know things haven’t been … but it’s Christmas in a week. Forget this hole, let’s get back to London.’

  ‘No, I’ve spoken to the agent, I’m staying.’

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘To re-invent myself.’

  ‘You must be fucking joking! Perhaps if you were twenty-something and had something going –’

  ‘Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘Get real Mel. You’re pushing forty. What’s there to re-invent?’

  She walked. Arguing with him was useless. She watched him leave from the bedroom window, trying to be strong, fighting back the emotion but inwardly almost convinced he was right.

  Outside he revved the engine noisily. Wheels span on loose gravel. The crunch faded. Silence. He was gone and at last she was completely alone.

  Emotionally drained she collapsed onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.

  She woke to the sound of wood being clopped. Looking out of the window she scanned the garden, focusing on the big green conifer trees which provided the backdrop for the lush curved lawn. Someone was in the garden axing one of the trees. Pulling a warm fleece over her T-shirt and jeans, she went downstairs.

  Letting herself out by the back door, she was halfway across the lawn before she saw him, a young man wearing a sleeveless vest and white band around his head. From the waist upwards he looked like a Grand Slam tennis player despite the cold December air. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Raffe, the gardener.’

  ‘Gardening? At this time of year?’ Through dark designer stubble his face creased into a smile, his eyes a flash of frenzied blue, ‘The tree’s for the house, for the holiday.’

  His slightly accented English sent tingles along the length of her spine. Turning to face him full on, her eyes searched for any hidden signals in his expression or movement. ‘I’m Mel. Would you like to come in for a coffee?’

  He didn’t reply immediately, but an engaging gleam of pure blue had already answered her question as he said, ‘Let’s go inside then, Mel.’

  On the threshold they both reached for the door, hands clashing over the brass knob. Mel felt the warmth of his large hand covering hers sending tingling anticipation to her armpit. She hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted his intent, as her brain began to fast forward imagining the sensation of having both his hands touching her, perhaps in more intimate places?

  ‘When will he be back?’

  Mel shrugged wistful acceptance, ‘He’s not coming back.’

  ‘And you’re not afraid? Alone, with someone like me?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  ‘Perhaps, perhaps not? But that depends on how you perceive danger.’

  ‘Are you dangerous then Raffe?’

  ‘If you knew what was going through my mind at this moment, you might think so,’ he confessed, his clear blue eyes twinkling.

  Mel paused on the doorstep tilting her head to gaze up into his face, ‘And what thoughts would those be?’

  ‘I think you know well enough,’ he responded brushing a bare muscular forearm across his face, his eyes roving over the tight-fitting fleece that moulded to her body like a second skin.

  Wickedly nervous anticipation grabbed the pit of Mel’s stomach and crept down her sensitive inner thighs. Her expression was coy amusement. It had been a long time since a man as attractive as Raffe had looked at her so appreciatively. It was delicious to feed off those few precious moments.

  With his thick blond hair, blue eyes and tall muscular frame, Raffe was Greek God and Mel lusted after him instantly. Raffe had popped up when she needed physical satisfaction the most. If she’d ordered him from a mail order catalogue she couldn’t have chosen better. She was hungry. Josh hadn’t fucked her for weeks. The week break in Cornwall was supposed to solve all that. It hadn’t. Josh had rejected her, even when she’d offered him a blow job.

  Raffe pushed open the backdoor and held it open for her, closing it behind him to keep out the cold. ‘It’s very warm in here,’ he muttered, moisture still glistening on his powerful arms from tree-cutting. He pulled off the bandeau, his long blond locks flopping forward. ‘I’m not getting this wrong, am I?’

  ‘And what might that be?’ she asked eyes widening in anticipation.

  His lips twisted, almost hesitantly, then with a shake of his head said, ‘Don’t tease me, do you want me to seduce you slowly or fuck you hard?’

  Mel’s eyes glowed with yearning, liquid fire burning between her legs. ‘Fuck me, oh yes … fuck me.’

  He came towards her, wrapping strong arms around her, his hot mouth finding hers, his tongue powerful and demanding.

  The heat from Mel’s crotch spread like wild fire through her veins as her mouth responded to his. Stretching up on tiptoe she curled her arms around his neck, spreading her hands over his taut muscular shoulders. ‘Fuck me,’ she whispered when her lips were momentarily free of his possession.

  ‘Only after I’ve brought you off,’ he replied, unzipping her fleece and pulling her T-shirt out of her jeans. His large warm hands sought her soft flesh, a deft hand released her bra and another brushed fingers over her already taut nipples. With eyes half closed, savouring the arousing effects of his touch, she moaned her willing approval. This gorgeous Adonis could fuck her any way he wanted.

  In an instant she found herself pushed back on the sofa, Raffe’s hands seeking the button and zip of her jeans. Slowly he released them, pushing the denim off her slender hips, exposing her briefs. Mel kicked off her trainers and wriggled out of her jeans. Raffe followed her lead and hooking his thumb into the top of her briefs slowly removed them. His eyes were full of adoration as he slowly sank to his knees on the rug. She offered no resistance as he parted her thighs enabling his fingers to touch her soft intimate flesh. His fingers stroked the short down of her public hair. ‘I like women who keep just a little,’ he smiled adoringly at the neatness of her outer labia, ‘and I love sucking pussy, may I?’

  Mel’s response was to open her legs wider, his light touch bringing waves of scintillating excitement coursing through her body. It had been far too long since she’d been promised such pleasure. ‘Oh yes,’ she mewed, her voice husky with need for orgasmic release, ‘go down on me.’

  He needed no further invitation, with
both hands spread either side of her labia, he began working her slowly, his thumbs kneading her softness. Mel opened her legs wider, her hips sinking lower on the seat, giving him a full view of her willing crotch. With one swift movement, he parted her outer labia, exposing the moist flesh inside like opening a ripe fig. A singular groan of need brought the desired contact for her yearning vulva. Now fully exposed, he let his tongue lick the length of slit. The blissful contact as his tongue slicked over her engorged vulva caused her to cry out aloud.

  He paused momentarily.

  ‘No, don’t stop,’ she pleaded, the stimulating sensation spreading out from her bud, warming her entire body. She let her arms flop over the back of the sofa, her neck nestling on the back edge, as he expertly circled her, slicking over her, enjoying her.

  Delicately, knowingly the tip of his tongue found every tiny fold of her, sending waves of wild excitement rippling through her bloodstream. Closing her eyes Mel savoured the moment, hardly believing the incredible feelings this new lover was arousing within her. But when the tip of Raffe’s tongue began darting in and out of the moist opening of her vagina, she lifted her head, ‘Clit,’ she begged repeating her plea several times.

  Gently he held her folds apart, his tongue seeking the hard engorged nub of her, circling her nerve endings, she found herself nearing the point of exquisite pleasure. Then, oh then, she breathed unevenly, panting in anticipation of him rounding her peak of orgasm. Finding her clitoris he began to work rapidly on her sensual peak, flicking the tip of his tongue over and over again.

  Mel could no longer contain herself, it had been so long since she had enjoyed the summit of her sexual prowess. Had anything felt so good? His firm male mouth sucking, flicking, playing against her hard clit, maintaining her, retaining her, keeping her at the peak of stimulus. She was lost, surfing on the crest of her orgasm as his tongue continued to glide over her again and again until she cried out. Yelps of pure delight, riding a wave, reaching the crest, ready to tumble over the edge and as if he knew the very moment, he caught her before she descended the other side. Caught her clitoris, engorged and full, hard and erect, invigorated with the tip of his tongue he pushed her to peaks of orgasmic delight, each one seemingly stronger and higher than the last.