At Little Lance, we believe that truth is often hornier, smuttier and sexier than fiction. Our authors are happy to share their smutty real life sex stories for your amusement and satisfaction.
Extract from Delectable Dreams - A Smutlet by Lance Little
This Smutlet is not quite how I intended, under the title of ‘Delectable’, I had another sexy, hot, smutty share, but everything changed during the weekend I shall write about here.
Steven and I went up to London to experience the pomp and pageantry of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations. I was extraordinarily excited; I do not mind admitting that I am a royalist through and through. If I had been born in the seventeenth century, I would have been allied with the King’s men, fighting the Roundheads.
Anyway, back to the smut. Steven had booked us a suite in a fabulous hotel with magnificent views of the Thames, and I was beside myself with excitement. Not simply because I was in my favourite city, in the whole world, absorbing the atmosphere of a unique, once in a lifetime weekend, but also to have Steven with me, just he and I for four luvverly days.
Alas, it was not to be, we had barely arrived when Steven was called away on business, and almost before I knew it, he had left for the airport and I was alone in our series of connecting rooms, with the whole weekend stretching ahead. Although Steven assured me that he would deal with his work issues and get back as quickly as possible, I determined not to be deterred from my goal of festive fun, fun, fun and switched the television on to watch the coverage of the Jubilee celebrations, while I prepared for the day.
Typically, our British weather did what it is wont to do on high days and holidays, and that is to piss down relentlessly. Luckily, being a Brit right through to my deep, squishy, soft centre, I had packed accordingly and had appropriate clothing to hand. Still, if things got too cold and miserable along the banks of the river, it was pleasant to have the bolthole retreat of our super rooms in the hotel; if necessary, I would watch events whilst cosseted in the suite.
Even so, this woman is not faint of heart, and nor were most of the other revellers massing the streets of London that weekend.
As usual, I had woken feeling randy, immediately enticing Steven into a quickie, by diving under the covers, taking his flaccid cock into my mouth while he was still sleeping. It did not take long before he joined me in the land of the alert, his cock hardening as he came awake, literally supplying me with breakfast in bed. I adore sucking cock, especially Steven’s and I wanted to give him the perfect send off via a memorable blowjob.
We breakfasted on our terrace, thoughtfully sheltered from the elements, so that I didn’t have to dress, I detest going down to the hotel dining room for breakfast, and almost always eat breakfast upstairs, wherever we are. We had just finished our morning tea when the front desk called up to announce that Steven’s car for the airport had arrived. Gutted, I hugged him goodbye at our door, forlornly saw him disappear into the lift, and retreated to the comfort of the bed.
The temperature was perfect, so I did not bother getting underneath the covers, laying with my legs open, rather hoping that room service would knock to gain access for clearing the table, I luxuriously moved my hands over my breasts, tweaking my nipples, hardening them.
Sometimes, when masturbating, I like attaching nipple clamps; I adore reliving some of our adventurous bondage sessions. If I need help bringing myself off, I close my eyes, transport myself into any encounter, and replay events.
Nipple clamps, and/or clit clips, provide that extra something that makes me feel exhilarated, and somehow less alone. Masturbation is fine, but as you will know if you have read my other Smutlets, I am the sort of person who gets off on group sex. In the absence of two or more additional participants, I prefer at least one hot, aroused man sporting a hard cock, or a girlfriend with a strap-on, ready and willing to fuck me hard.
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