You couldn’t forget Crystal. Beautiful, tall, with long black hair, dark green eyes and a full mouth that was usually laughing at something or someone, and always painted with a startling red lipstick. Her full tits clamoured for your attention, invariably only just contained by the fabric of some immaculate designer outfit, worn with high black boots with higher heels. But the most memorable thing among the many things about Crystal was what you saw when she walked away – her broad and glorious arse. A National Treasure of an arse. But in spite of all that, it has to be said Crystal was also something of a bitch.

I’d known her for four years. At the start of that time we were flatmates. Two journalists making it in the big city who decided to share the rent. Then late one Friday night, both drunk and bored, and with nothing on the telly she offered to suck my cock.

Well, it would have been rude to say no, and so minutes later there I was legs spread wide on the sofa with some crappy chat show blaring out of the TV and these amazing green eyes looking up at my face as that scarlet mouth slid up and down my ecstatic cock. I wasn’t intending to spunk in her mouth. I was trying to save myself to fuck her, just to return the compliment so to speak but she just kept going, taking me in so deep, gagging on my shaft then slowly easing it out until just the tip of her tongue was in contact and licking the pre-cum from the tip of my cock. In the end I couldn’t stop myself, and I watched her as she took my load full in her mouth, showed it off like a porn star, then swallowed it all, except for a trickle she let slide down her chin. “Night night, flatmate” she said, and walked off to her room.

From then on I don’t know what we were – flatmates? fuck-buddies? boyfriend and girlfriend? She never wanted to put a label on it and I wasn’t complaining. Some nights she’d suck me off. Other nights she’d ask me to fuck her from behind and I’d watch my hips slap against her fat bum while she’d watch Saturday night TV with her fingers on her clit. One time I even suggested I could fuck that her perfect arse but she just laughed and called me a pervert. One night – a memory I often wanked myself off to afterwards – I woke up to see her straddled over me in a pair of stockings, naked and reeking of red wine, with a fat black vibrator deep in her cunt: “Hey baby! I really need you to suck me till I come!” Then there was Greg. He was the News Editor on the Finance Channel and Crystal set about securing herself a job there by letting Greg secure himself in her knickers. And that, very suddenly was that. She moved in with him, and started presenting their stock market updates by day and no doubt sucking Greg till his balls fell off every night.

So I put Crystal behind me, and now here I was at the launch of an upmarket new magazine that had been naïve enough to employ me as a restaurant critic. I stood on the terrace of the ridiculous Georgian country house on a perfect summer evening illegal bahis with a glass of champagne, watching the crowd mingle and chat, trying to decide for myself who was the prettiest girl.

Really though as soon as I saw Vivienne Fontaine it was no contest. I recognised her from her photo for her travel column, but the reality was better by far. Petite, quirky-looking in a dress made out of a fabric that can only have been one molecule thick, so closely did it cling to her. She had a short bob of red-brown hair and an Elfin face with lively brown eyes and the kind of permanently pouting mouth you only get by being French. I was going to talk to her. I was. I took one more gulp of champagne. And then I heard a voice at my shoulder.

“Hey Tommy”

Crystal. Why was she here? I just stared. Maybe it was the red lipstick. Maybe it was her tits, even fuller than before, maybe it was that incredible arse. Whatever it was, three years down the line that woman retained the power to make my cock stiffen in a heartbeat. All the same, I wasn’t going to be a push-over.

“This is a very boring party Tommy. Why don’t you show me the grounds?”

“I don’t know the grounds. I’ve never been here before.”

“Show me them anyway. I want to talk to you. I missed you, flatmate. We used to have so much fun…”

Well, she took my arm and we strolled off down a path, then another path, and then behind a big hedge, and then I know I said I wasn’t going to be a push-over but somehow all of a sudden there I was with Crystal on her knees in front of me, my flies open and my fat throbbing erection straining towards her open red mouth like some kind of homing missile.

“See? Your cock remembers me…” And those red red lips slid luxuriously up my shaft.

Birds sang. Clouds slid across a blue sky. And my cock thrust in and out of the hottest, wettest, rudest mouth I knew.

Crystal hitched up her dress. At the top of her black stockings her naked cunt was open to the evening air.

“No knickers. Classy!”

Her fingers played with her clit and she moaned and her sucking grew deeper. I was seconds away from coming. Her lipstick and saliva smeared my cock as my whole body tensed.

Then her phone rang.

“Oh hey Greg! I was looking for you babe.”

Crystal stood up, straightened her dress, put one finger, wet with the juice of her cunt against my lips, and walked away, and I stood there, my frustrated cock twitching in the evening air watching her fat arse sway as she walked back to the house.

I’d been an idiot. Maybe it wasn’t too late to find Vivienne. Maybe if I played it carefully I could even fuck Vivienne that night. God knows if I didn’t put my cock in some girl soon I thought I might actually explode. I hurried back to the house.

Forty minutes and one interminable conversation with my editor about what I thought of the buffet later my luck changed. It was growing dark and my boss joined the crowd that was drifting illegal bahis siteleri back into the house for dessert. But not Vivienne. She was alone, watching the sunset. Maybe she was even waiting for me to come and talk to her. I wasn’t going to screw this up again.

Vivienne was even prettier up close. We talked about all sorts of things – food, literature, music, and I loved how her eyes flashed as she talked and her body swayed as if she were dancing. And I was just thinking how now might be the time to ask her if I could kiss her when –

“There you are!”

Bloody Crystal, swaying towards us, lipstick once again immaculate, with a dish of trifle and a smirk.

“And you’re Vivienne. I love your writing. It’s beautiful. And I see you met Tommy. He likes to pretend he’s interested in the finer things in life, but he’d far rather have someone suck his cock in the bushes.”

It was dark. Maybe Vivienne didn’t see me blush. But she would have noticed the awkward silence.

“Anyhow…” breezed Crystal, my husband Greg Hessewald is inside and he would love to meet you. He thinks you should have your own show…”

And Crystal walked off into the garden. I stood there alone, every bit of me deflated, except for some crazy reason my cock. It started to rain but I didn’t care.

I caught up with Crystal on the far side of the lawn by the green house.

“Bloody hell Crystal what did you say that for?”

“Journalist’s sacred duty to tell the truth at all costs. Plus she’s not your type.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m your type. Your cock says so.” She patted the front of my trousers where my erection was still twitching against my pants. “Anyway, I’m cold. I’m going in here.” And she pushed the greenhouse door.

Inside it was warmer and the rain was falling loudly on the roof.

“Here” she said, putting down her uneaten dessert and pulling off my tie, “let me make it all better for your poor stiff dick.”


“Aw. Come on. I’ll finish what I started. I’ll even let you touch my tits if you’re a good boy.”

“No! We’re finished, Crystal. You can’t treat people like this.”

“Tommy! You’re so boring!”

“And you’re a bitch!”

“A bitch?”

“Well you are a bitch Crystal. You know you are.”

“Well then… ” she turned away and leaned against a table. Her arse jutted towards me. “If I’m really a bitch, I think you should punish me.”

My throat went dry.

“Or are you too much a pussy, Tommy? I don’t think Vivienne is going to fuck you if you’re this much of a pussy, you know. But oh dear, I have been bad…” Crystal shoved the plants onto the floor and further leaned across the table, then hitched her skirt up above the tops of her stockings revealing her bare arse. “Look, Tommy, your favourite knickers. You can kiss my arse if you want Tommy.”

In that instant everything changed. Something snapped in me. Thunder rumbled outside and the rain rattled canlı bahis siteleri hard on the glass roof and I strode to the table and slapped Crystal’s arse hard. She gasped in surprise. I smacked her again. And again.

“Oh, my turn” she said and began to move but I shoved her back down.

“You’re staying right there…”

I took my tie and bound her wrists together against a leg of the table, then saw the bamboo cane lying on the floor. She saw it too.

“Oh God Tommy.”

It whooshed through the air and I cracked it across the cheeks of her broad arse. Crystal’s buttocks clenched then relaxed. Silence but for the rain and Crystal’s deep breathing. Then “Again” she grunted.

I swung the cane a second time. And a third. Each time the bamboo chastised her arse my cock throbbed harder. Six blows with the cane in all. I stopped.

“Oh baby. I didn’t think you… God… My arse is so sore.”

“I’ve got something for that.”

I took the bowl of trifle and scooped a handful of it out, slapping it down onto her punished arse.

“Oh! Don’t spoil my dress babe. Please. It’s Versace.”

In reply I slapped on more of the trifle and smeared it across both buttocks and let a generous portion trickle down her arse crack onto the swollen lips of her cunt and then drip onto her precious dress. Crystal lay in front of me sprawled across the table, her sore arse daubed in slippery creamy custard. My cock was loving it. I slipped my trousers off and my cock pointed right where it wanted to go. Straight into this magnificent bitch’s glorious arse.

I nudged my cock up against her tight anus, slick with slippery pudding. I pushed. She gasped and her sphincter pushed back for a moment, then I felt her relax and she seemed to suck me in. Inch by inch I fucked Crystal’s arse and inch by inch her arse clasped my cock like a tighter lewder cunt. She pushed back. And then I found a rhythm, a filthy, furious rhythm pumping my hard, slippery cock into her up to the hilt over and over again as Crystal moaned and writhed and swore beneath me. “Oh fuck Tommy. Spunk in me! Fuck my bitches arse!” And at last there it was – spurt after spurt of my thick jism for this beautiful bitch. I pulled out of her and the last gobs of spunk-spattered her bum and trickled down to add to the mess on her thighs. I was done.

I looked down at Crystal panting on the table. Beside her was the bowl, empty but for one fat red strawberry. I slipped it between the pouting labia of her sopping cunt. She moaned. I pushed it further. Little thrusts into her. She spread her legs wider and moaned and bucked and writhed against the rough red fruit in her cunt and at last the strawberry juice oozed over her clit and Crystal came.

I untied her hands. I kissed her with a long wet kiss and my cock twitched again. As the rain drummed on the roof and our tongues played I knew there was going to be plenty more to come.

Then in one crash of lightening the greenhouse lit up. And what I saw I will never forget.

Watching us intently, her mouth open, and one hand thrust deep between her parted thighs was Vivienne.

“Oh hey! Vivienne…” murmured Crystal in the silence that followed, “do you want a strawberry?”



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