She grabbed my attention the very first time I saw her. Heels on the high side—skirt on the short side. Long legs—tight arse. And brown, talk-to-me eyes. A walking sexual fantasy.
She carried herself with the poise and elegance of an older woman but she could barely have been thirty. And she had the confidence of a model—she dressed like someone who has strutted down the catwalk. Her jackets and coats were really well cut—the designs weren’t those you saw in high street shops.
As well as elegance and style, she was sharp. You could also see she listened very carefully to those around her. Only those with a fair bit of emotional intelligence listen like that.
I first saw her in a coffee shop. She was in front of me in the queue so I discovered that her name was Daisy from the paper cup the barista wrote on.
Daisy was probably the hottest woman I’d ever met, or am ever likely to meet. If you asked me which women in the whole world I’d like to fuck and I had the choice of absolutely anyone, I’d choose Daisy. And, after what happened next, I would choose her again, and again, and again.
I bumped into her in the town outside what I thought was her office a couple of days later. It was totally contrived. I’d walked up and down near that cafe for the best part of an hour and managed to walk straight into her, seemingly by accident. There was a spark between us, that burst of energy I felt whenever I saw her, I knew how it wasn’t just my imagination.
“I’m sorry, I…” she started to apologise for my clumsiness.
“No, it was totally, my…” I took over but stopped when our eyes locked. Yes, yes, her pupils dilated and she looked as startled as I felt by the static that buzzed between us.
“Here,” I said, wanting to brush down her beautiful camel coat. I reached out but stopped short of the fabric, opting to chance an invitation instead. “Let me make it up to you.”
We paused again, knowing full well an apology invitation was unnecessary.
Her hand brushed against mine and that look passed between us again. Like we knew each other from somewhere but unless she’d seen me behind her in the coffee queue, we’d never met. But I felt it too. A familiarity. A strange cosmic history. We lingered for a few moments too long and it was teetering on awkward when she graciously spoke.
“I know a café, does the most perfect espresso lungi.”
I gulped in surprise—I was not expecting her to invite me!
“That sounds splendid, please lead the way.”
And she actually held her arm out for me to take. It was surreal and the most natural thing in the world. Our steps matched, there was none of that, feeling like you’re in a three-legged race and the rhythm is wrong, with twisted ankles and bashed up bones. No none of it. I smiled at the comparison. I’ve often felt at odds with those I walk with, I’ve never managed quite to match somebody else’s gait. But somehow… we fit.
As the waitress brought us identical coffees with an iced water chaser, we thanked her at the same time, causing us to smile and catch each other’s gaze again.
“So what do you do? Um… sorry I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh, yes, pleased to meet you, I’m Jonathon.” I jovially held out my hot hand and a shiver went down my spine as she took it in her cool one, shaking firmly yet somehow delicately. It was like a magic trick.
“Pleased to meet you too, I’m Daisy.”
I tried to appear like I didn’t know that already. “Oh what a lovely name,” I declared hoping it sounded natural enough.
“Excuse me for asking, but I feel like I know you from somewhere…” her brow furrowed in the most beautifully quizzical way. “Do I?”
I tilted my head to the side, looking skyward to wrack my brains. “You know, I feel the exact same way but for the life of me, I can’t think where.”
She nodded, seeming to relax and let out a long breath. My senses pricked for a second but she eased us back into the conversation.
“Do you work locally Jonathon?”
“Yes, but unfortunately for me, for a bunch of absolute wankers as it turns out.” The shock as the word echoed around the room was evident by the look that crossed her face. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so crass, I’ve just had a particularly trying day, I don’t usually speak like that!”
I hoped I’d fixed it, her face had turned dark, and the tip of her tongue darted out, and slicked her plump lips.
“Shame…” she said and took a sip of her coffee.
What? What? My nerves were tingling all the hairs on the back of my neck were standing. Was she giving me the come on? Did she want me to talk dirty? I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just lifted my own cup.
“I love words. All words. From colloquial to filthy, they completely fascinate me.” She smiled. “Take ‘wanker’ for instance. It’s a wonderful word to describe an utter bellend of a colleague…”
I couldn’t argue with that.
She paused and carefully placed the cup back in its saucer, twisting it slightly then took her focus right back to me, holding my gaze as she spoke.
“But for the act, it simply doesn’t do it justice.”
I spluttered. What, the act of wanking?
“Yes, wanking.” As if she’d heard me! “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, I…” actually, I did agree. “It is rather a harsh word…”
She nodded. Apparently satisfied with my answer.
“What would you prefer?” I asked, feeling rather daring.
Daisy eagerly picked up the baton.
“What about simply, masturbating?”
I recoiled. I never liked that word.
“No. Too squelchy or something.”
She hooted with laughter. “Well, for some of us it is squelchy,” she said with a wicked grin on her lips, “if it’s going really well…” She winked.
God, what was I getting myself into?
I was hoping to be steering the conversation up the sexual path, with her eagerly following me, but here we were and it was she, practically dragging me! I was feeling a little out of my depth.
I took control of myself and decided that we ought to take this conversation to somewhere a little more grown-up.
I held out my hand and we walked to the bar across the road, ordering the exact same drink again. Two Manhattans came our way.
By the time we had started on our second cocktail, she confessed that her best ever time masturbating was when it was being filmed.
“Really?” I was back to being the blithering public schoolboy, all flustered and ridiculous. Again, I took a breath and composed myself. “Tell me, Daisy,” I slowly leaned into her ear and whispered, “are you trying to shock me?”
She seemed to squirm a little and as I retreated, I watched a flush rise on her décolleté.
It didn’t take long for her to regain her composure and she picked the cocktail stick from her glass and slid the cherry between her lips, easing it off with her teeth. Pocketing the fruit in one cheek as she spoke.
“Maybe…”
I shuffled on the barstool and adjusted my tie sensing that this conversation was about to get blisteringly hot.
“Who filmed it?”
I felt her foot touch the inside of my calf. “Nobody, I filmed it by myself, just for me.” She twisted the stem of her glass and caressed the rim with her beautifully manicured fingertips.
“It was amazing, to fuck myself on camera, riding wave after wave of orgasm.” She licked her lips. “It was almost too intense.”
I asked if this was something she’d put on social media. I was rather afraid of the answer. I kind of hoped to see the film but was strangely jealous that others might have seen it already.
“I uploaded it to a porn site.,” she said in a very matter-of-fact way while looking straight into my eyes.
“I don’t believe you.”
Daisy held out, teasing me back with mock coyness.
Eventually, she laughed and pulled her tablet out of her bag. Shifting our barstools closer, she tilted the tablet so I could see the screen. Quickly checking no-one else in the bar was looking, she put in her password and brought up a browser and opened a tab. She quickly found the site and flicked through a few windows, selected a video and brought up the play button. Raising her eyebrows, she passed me the device and beckoned me to start the film.
I touched play.
There she was, reading a magazine while lying back in an armchair. The title of the journal, ‘The Amorist’, gave a clear indication of what might follow.
Her first move was to stroke her left breast through her blouse, and then she slipped her hand under it, easing it free to reveal a studded right nipple.
I pressed pause and looked at her. Daisy had a big grin as she looked at me in an I-told-you-so way. I asked if she still had the stud, and she raised her eyebrows again but said nothing. She returned her gaze to the screen and restarted the film.
She clearly liked touching her nipples and she caressed them until they were in a hardened state.
And then she dropped a hand and slid it under her skirt. She started to stroke her pussy through her knickers, and her body bent in response. One hand joined the other, and then, pulling her knickers to one side, she started to stroke her pussy lips. I could just hear her panting from the speaker on her tablet, or was that actually coming from her?
I nudged Daisy in the ribs and nodded in the wider direction of the room, and she hit the mute button. I told her that this was beyond hot and that there was no way I could stand up at the moment. She smiled cheekily at me.
On-screen, Daisy’s fingers were now on her clit and very slowly but firmly you could see that she was bringing herself to a climax. She eased an index finger inside her slit, and with her other hand, she rubbed her right nipple. It took a second finger in her pussy to tip her into a wave of orgasms.
I pressed pause once more and simply whispered, “Fucking hell, Daisy, that was a heck of a climax.”
“Nothing compared to what’s coming,” she said, her eyelids heavy, and lips fuller than before.
I pressed play again and saw her reach for one of those mains powered vibrators.
By now I had moved an arm around her back and was just about to enjoy even more of this film when Daisy glanced at her watch. Perhaps the physical contact jolted her and made her think again about what we were doing. She quickly hopped off the barstool, explaining that she’d lost track of time and had to go. She should have been home ages ago.
I tried to thank her for showing me the film, but the words didn’t flow. I didn’t want to speak—I just wanted the sex to continue on screen. I dearly wanted to see how she handled the vibrator and what it did to her.
Daisy kissed me lightly on the cheek and then packed away her tablet and stood up. It was abrupt, yet, not unkind in the slightest.
I asked for her mobile number and she wrote on a napkin in red lipliner pencil, folded it once and slid it across the bar.
“Jonathon, promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“Of course,” I said, lifting her hand to place the most delicate kiss on her cool flesh. “You have my word.”
She smiled a little hesitantly, then she left. It was like a spell had been broken. I could only surmise that she’d felt sudden regret at revealing her secret to a perfect stranger.
Much later that night, I settled back in my chair with a nice glass of wine and reflected on the day’s events. If only I’d thought to take note of the website she’d showed me. I could have looked it up and finished watching her naughty film. I patted my shirt pocket, remembering I’d popped the napkin in there. Perhaps I could text her, reassure her that her secret was safe with me, and let her know how much I had enjoyed her company today. I really out to say something. Thank her for a lovely time. I pulled out the napkin and held it to my face, inhaling her lingering scent.
Unfolding it, I found that I was trembling as my fingers fumbled with the flimsy paper. Where I expected a name and mobile number, there was only hurriedly scrawled lettering. I read it more closely and my heart actually skipped a beat. A web address.
I held my breath as I grabbed my iPad and opened the browser, carefully adding each letter: https://www.frolicme.com/films/woman-experiencing-multiple-real-orgasms/
My chest was almost bursting as I waited for the page to load and my cock swelled and stiffened when at last, there she was on my screen. Daisy, in all her sexy fucking glory. I could not believe it—it was so professional and beautifully shot. I hadn’t appreciated it at the time in the bar. She must have been lying about filming it herself and uploading it. The words to introduce the film confirmed my suspicions but she had been telling the truth about it being her first film. I couldn’t decide whether to watch it from the beginning or skip to where we’d got up to.
I settled on the latter and started to fast forward the film to where we had left off in the bar. I located the moment she picked up the vibrator and watched as she pushed it on her cunt lips.
She then began to thrust a finger in and out of her opening as she held the vibrator hard against her clit. This was the most intense wank and I wanted to join in myself.
My cock was out and I began to play with my helmet, teasing out my early emissions. As they bubbled over, I used my fingers to ease the lubrication down my shaft. The hardness I’d experienced in the bar earlier was back, and I was as firm as any guy could ever be. I knew that it would just take a few firm thrusts and I would come, but I wanted to savour this moment—and the memories of the meeting at the bar—for just a little longer.
I watched as Daisy thrust a finger deep inside her cunt, and as she pushed the vibrator hard against her clit her body began to shake and she virtually exploded. That was a pretty big orgasm. And to think I’d watched at least one of her earlier orgasms in the film already. I could now begin to understand why Daisy had said that it was this particular self-pleasuring session was her best.
Presuming Daisy was finally spent, I was about to rewind her orgasm so I could come alongside her with the second viewing when I realised that she hadn’t finished. This woman was astonishing. She was going to bring herself to yet another climax.
On screen she started to build herself up. Her sexual energy was beyond belief. Inserting two fingers into her pussy I noticed that she turned up the speed of her orgasm machine. This next one was going to blow her mind.
And I really had to come with her and share this moment of intense pleasure as best I could. Gripping my prick hard I hit my quickie rhythm. My thoughts were with Daisy and I was inside her, thrusting my shaft as deep as possible.
She was taking it all, and what I had to assume was her final orgasm began to ripple from her clit through her body. I heard her whisper “Oh God,” as she whacked the speed on the vibrator to maximum. She was over the edge.
Though I had no vibrator to help me reach my own climax, I was squeezing my cock tight—desperately close, but just wanted a moment more. I pressed pause and stopped stimulating my shaft. Finding some lube I’d brought through from my bedside drawer, I dribbled it on to my hard-on and slowly covered my entire length.
I rewound the film a few minutes and then re-watched Daisy bring herself to her magnificent ending. Knowing the moment that she turned the vibrator on to full was my cue, and I pushed myself over the brink and we came together. It was the best wank of my life and my ejaculate spurted out all over my hands and showered my legs. I was quite impressed with one drop that made it as far as my ankle.
I never did bump into Daisy again outside her office, it seemed it had only been a temporary arrangement. I had to content myself with her onscreen presence. As it turned out, she had quite a few starring roles and I took my time exploring every single one.
The End
Read all about the wonderful author: PJA Woode , Tabitha Rayne
I loved your story. I was recently 89 years young, still enjoy thinking about sex, however I cannot keep hard enough to keep up with you. Matter of fact;_I can only have dry orgasms since my operations, one made me unable to have any ejaculate and the other damaged the ring that controls blood flow to my penis, ergo no really hard-on. Keep writing the sexy stories about masturbation and I will continue to try making myself cum with you.
This really got me horny and set me up for a good night with my husband
excellent