Note: All texts, actions and people on this page are fiction and freely invented and sent by our readers. They should not serve for any form of illegal acts.
In the 1980s I was traveling a lot professionally. In order not to always have to live in hotels, I also had some private addresses and got to know interesting women. Above all, Carla von Orlow remains in B in B. Memory. Since when it was called, it is unclear;In any case, she liked to be called “the Orlowa”. A very self -confident lady, well built, red -brown colored, always big opened. When I lived with her for a few days as a “carpenter”, the term was already antiquated, I didn’t need to do anything.
The Orlowa determined my free time, and she always had a proposal ready, which we would do together – and always at my expense -. Already on the first evening, which we spent in plenty of wine in her salon, I was asked in detail about my erotic inclinations and experiences. Without every shyness she also made it clear that she knew exactly what she wanted: determining the direction. And, as she said. That could be exciting.
“You can’t go to bed with the bump,” she said when we wanted to end our conversation after midnight. I waited amazed what would come now. “If you have lined, come here again. “My pajama pose couldn’t hide the crossbar I could bathroom brought along. “Would be even more beautiful if such an attractive young man had to satisfy himself with me,” she laughed. In doing so, she pointed to her wide, dark leather sofa.
“Make yourself comfortable. “Then she sat down next to me, pulled my pants federation down and reached with her long, slim Finger According to my organ. Of course, after a long evening, it pushed me, on which only good life and eroticism We were talking to cum a concentrated load. But the Orlowa had time. Nice slowly, always a drop of fragrant oil, she worked on my spear. If I was already twitching and the juice was swimming out of my glans, it reached for her wine glass, which was surprisingly still filled.
Finally, however: her firm gripping around my cock root could not prevent it. Dick the cream flowed out of my Schwengel, over her finely manicured hands, over my strips, onto the shiny leather. She smiled maliciously. “Well, then they sleep nicely”, then she disappeared. Over time, I got to know and appreciate erotic preferences of Orlowa. Often their games were associated with torture themselves or their partners – through tension or physical.
One evening she wanted to be accompanied to an exhibition opening. But she came up with something special for this. She wanted to see who of us could endure clips in the genitals longer. “When we are on the road, we both have to hold out, not true,” she said grinning. When I reported on the spot, the Orlowa stood in front of me in a black bra and skin -colored, holding stockings and high heels. For the first time I saw her column, smoothly shaved, clearly protruding labia.
My reaction was clear: steep climb of my big dick. “We can’t have that,” grabbed the Orlowa. “You can’t walk behind me with such a bump in your pants. “First she attached metal clips along the seam of my plump scrotack. That was endured. Then she pulled the foreskin over the glans and also fixed them with a bracket. I was relieved that the edges of the clamps were smooth and did not cut into the skin.
But it was a lot of pressure on it. Now my spear was even more. I had to put on a tightly sitting underpants as best I could. An ice cream bag let my member shrink. In lightning speed and very cleverly she grabbed my thing in a smooth latex bag, the limb rolled down and between the Egg depressed. That tied around the hip and pulled up the elastic underpants.
I have to admit that I was surprised, but also fascinated. There were other metal clips on the table. The Orlowa pointed to it and said: “They are for me – if they dare. “Again this devilish smile. She knelt on the leather sofa and offered me her column in back view. Now I wasn’t allowed to hesitate. So I took her labia and clamped her with the brackets. From the bottom, keep upwards until almost the whole column was closed.
Then she straightened up. Your clit has now been pressed out between her lips, red and slightly swollen. “It stays that way?”I asked cheekily. “First: yes. “Then I had to help her put on the dress that was already hung on the room door. A black, calf-length paint leather dress, stiff and shiny. Without panties or underwear it rose in. Then I had to close the zipper on my back. The wide belt also had the buckle behind. Quickly my chinos with the – intentionally – wide linen shirt over it.
Let’s go. The taxi was already waiting. At the vernissage the speeches were already kept when we arrived. I was relieved. We looked at the pictures and drank sparkling wine, not too short. The Orlowa was known and was admired. I was just an accompaniment. “I have to …” she whispered to me. “In the dress?“I said mockingly. “You see that I can’t lift the skirt up as usual. “So I accompanied the lady.
I was relieved that nobody was in the anteroom of the women’s toilets. I quickly opened the dress. She wanted to disappear in a cabin. “Moment. “I quickly pushed myself into it too. “Not that they chose and get relief,” I said grinning. So I stood close to her when she crouched on the bowl and the piss Sprayed out of the clinged column. Somewhere had to find its way out of high pressure. Without warning I reached between her thighs.
Everything wet, now also my fingers. I quickly found her plump clit. Then the door worked. Someone entered the cabin next door. We froze. Clothing rustled. Then inject it out of one pussy in a bowl. Easier moan. Water rinsing rustled, clothes rustled, and – no Klack, Klack, Klack – the lady moved away. Now I haven’t had it in a hurry. I wanted to see the Orlowa reacted to my finger on her lust node. She kept silent. As far as I could see in the dark cabin, their gaze was glassy.
I started playing with the bracketed labia, pulling it, pressing a little more … a quiet moaning was the answer. Suddenly she beat her thighs together, kept my hand caught. A deep sigh, then she left me free. I helped her with the dress. Then we carefully stole out of the ladies’ toilet. Another glass of sparkling wine, then quickly into the taxi. Now I was curious about what would happen at home. In any case, it was time for me to get rid of my packaging.
But first the Orlowa wanted to take off its paint leather dress. As I helped her, I noticed that her strong perfume now mingled with anxle sweat. Her column exuded a mixture of pussy juice and piss that looked like a stallion on me. With a handle she had solved the bag and literally exploded my dick. The pressure on the foreskin was no longer endured. As with one stitch, the blood shot into the pressure points. I screamed what the Orlowa only answered with a treacherous smile.
Because it was almost as painful when she finally solved the brackets of my scrotum. We mutually fingered for a long time. Not only once I splashed into her hollow hand. The countess also shivered several times and groaned violently while my fingers explored her column. Nevertheless, there was no opportunity at the time to climb them. Not even later.
Leave a Reply