Masturbation Monday #14

This is a continuation of my Horny Hour story Dutch Courage, which can be found here .

I cheated slightly and waited until I was actually in the terminal before switching my phone back on. Sometimes, depending on which slot the plane was given, getting out of the airport could take fifteen minutes, between having to take a bus and walking for what felt like miles. I wasn’t taking any chances on being late, and I still needed to get changed. Fastening the stockings to the belt could be a nightmare, especially when I was nervous. And oh god was I nervous. I wanted to leave myself enough time to at least get a couple of drags on a cigarette. ‘Landed.’ I sent the message as I started the walk through arrivals. Luckily today it was only a couple of minutes before I walked through into airport. ‘See you in thirty minutes.’ Your message back. I headed for the toilets. There was a queue. Of course there was. Why is there always a queue in the women’s toilets? ‘Fifteen minutes.’ your message reminded me when it was my turn, I was glad I’d worn the flats and leggings. I pulled the trouser off as fast as I could cursing the small cubicle, untangled my knickers and left them on the ledge behind the toilet. Please don’t let me forget them I thought as I pulled up the suspender belt followed by the stockings. This was when I could have a problem, the front fasteners were easy enough but I always had trouble with the back ones. I took a couple of deep breaths, more haste, less speed, whatever that means. I took my time, front on both, left back, I had a couple of moments panic when I just couldn’t get the last one to do up properly. ‘Ten minutes.’ Another deep breath, done! I pulled up the skirt and put my flat shoes back on. There was no way I was going to try and walk to the exit with the heels on, I’d break my ankle. I’d change when I got outside. I unlocked the door and had almost left the cubicle when I remembered my knickers, I grabbed them and shoved them into the pocket of my bag as I walked out. Outside I changed my shoes and lit up, inhaling deeply, I already felt as if everyone was looking at me, everyone knowing I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Of course as I glanced around no-one was even looking at me. ‘Five minutes. Are you ready?’ I text back ‘Yes Sir.’ I could feel myself getting wet again at the thought of what I was doing, what I was going to do. ‘Do you have what I asked for?’ I was glad you’d be here in a few minutes, I really needed to sit down, my legs were shaking. ‘Yes Sir.’ I checked the bag pocket. ‘Good girl. One minute.’ The wetness started trickling down the inside of my thigh. As you pulled up beside me I almost tripped on the kerb in the stupid shoes but I managed to avoid flashing my arse at everyone and slid into the passenger seat. You turned towards me and held out your hand and I gave you my knickers. You held them for a minute, feeling how damp they were before putting them in the glove box. As we pulled away from the kerb you said ‘Show me.’ There were dozens of people standing around, all I could do as I pulled up my skirt was hope they were more intent on their own business than mine. As I sat there with my skirt around my hips we stopped at the first set of lights, your hand slid up the inside of my thigh and your fingers found my wet cunt, one finger sliding inside. ‘Dirty little whore. I’m going to have fun with you this weekend. OK, make yourself presentable, I don’t fancy getting arrested.’ I quickly pulled my skirt back down as we headed away from the airport.


The rest of the journey passed in silence. My imagination working overtime as I thought about your words, I was finding this silent you hard to deal with and I knew what your definition of ‘fun’ meant sometimes. As we took the turn-off for your house I took a couple of deep breaths to try and steady myself. You laughed, ‘Scared?’ I didn’t even know how to answer that.

‘A bit, Sir.’ We pulled into the drive and parked in front of the house.

‘Good.’ I couldn’t make myself move, couldn’t open the door. I was torn between wanting so much to go through with the weekend and wanting to run away, even with the high heels. You stood by the open front door watching me as I opened the car door, watching me as I tried to walk across a couple of feet of gravel without spraining my ankle. When I reached you, you put your arms around me, gave me the hug I’d been wanting since I’d gotten into the car. ‘I thought I was going to have to take you home.’ I held you as tightly as I could, my heartbeat slowing, my breathing returning to normal. ‘OK?’ I looked up at you and saw the concern on your face.

’Yes Sir. I’m OK. Thank you Sir.’ I walked past you into the house, stood in the hallway, heard you lock the door. You came and stood behind me, kissing the back of my neck, biting along my shoulders as you ran your hands over my body.

‘Do you know how many times I wanted to stop the car on the way here, drag you out and fuck you? Knowing how fucking wet you were, knowing you had no knickers on.’ You pulled me back against you so I could feel your cock against me, rock hard. Your hand searched under my skirt, fingers digging into me. ‘Your hot cunt just inches away. I got you something.’ You leave me standing there, wet, breathless and pick up a bag by the front door, hand it to me.

‘Thank you Sir.’ I reach into the bag and pull out a pair of leather cuffs, and you take them from my shaking hands, fasten them a round my wrists.

‘Actually, I got them for me more than for you. Quicker than rope.’ You pull my skirt up around my waist and take a step back. ‘Touch yourself.’ I spread my legs and slide my fingers along my lips, so wet. My body aching for you, I want you to touch me. ‘Such a good little slut.’

More Masturbation Monday here.

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6 thoughts on “Presents

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