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Three months later I’d arranged to meet some friends in a wine bar in town. The bar was busy and my friends were all gathered when, typically, I arrived late. I was made welcome, kissed by a couple, patted by others and moved to stand with my best friend, Judy and her husband, Mike but naturally known as Punch, who had never discovered that Judy had once indecently assaulted me in her kitchen. I still smile when I recall that after a long, passionate kiss, a hand up my kilt (yes, I really was wearing a kilt, God forgive me) and a finger where no straight friend should put it she’d disengaged and said, ‘Now I see why you’re a dyke. I could get a taste for it.’ We’d giggled and gone back to the party arm in arm. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned not a little surprised to see Tabitha. ‘Hi, Imo.’ I must have looked stunned. ‘I do still drink occasionally,’ she said, with a smile. I took her into my arms and hugged her. It could have been awful but it hadn’t been. After a short cold. It’s just what I want him to do. I watch my own cock bounce in front of me and I occasionally caress my bottom; just like he would have done.My eyes are closed and my chanting encourages him to go faster; which of course, he does.He tells me that he can’t hold back much longer and I command him to hold himself in check until he pleasures me first. I can feel his cock’s length rubbing me and massaging all the parts that matter and then I feel it. I feel a sudden urge to come. I hold it back for a while; suppressing it, but it emerges once more with a vengeance.I am in two minds whether to stop or let it go. The song from ‘Frozen’ pops into my head and I fuck his cock harder.“Come for me,” I tell him.“Come for me.”“Come up my arse. Let it go!”As I push back on his cock, I feel my insides letting go. I feel my spunk rush to the surface and stare at my cock as I thrust my bottom back towards him. It’s bobbing in front of me and then I come. I push my arse fully onto his cock and let it.
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