These Boots are Made for Fucking

I’ve been a bad girl this weekend. It’s too nice of a day to spend inside typing so I’ll make this short and sweet.

On Saturday a friend came over my place to do some handyman work for me. There must something about seeing a guy do DIY that turns me on. Is it too lame to say I like a guy who knows how to use his tool? Yeah, ok, that is lame.

Now I wasn’t planning on doing anything with this guy, per se, but I couldn’t help myself. Why am I so naughty? And why does doing the wrong thing feel so good and so right?

After he finished the work we were both sitting on my leather sofa drinking some apple juice and petting the dog. Somehow within the span of a half hour we went from staring at each other, to holding each other to rubbing each other – above the clothes of course. According to the Rule Book, it doesn’t count if the touching is above the clothes.

I was wearing a black A-line skirt. I liked that his hand was under my skirt and that he was rubbing my fuchsia panties. I love that tingly feeling of an unfamiliar touch. And I love that look on his face; the look that tells me he’s happy and has a raging hard on. It’s difficult, however, when the moment is tinged with guilt; when you know you shouldn’t go any further; when what’s wrong feels right and vice versa.

It’s head versus heart; theory versus practice; the moral high ground versus horniness. And perhaps the fact that it’s forbidden makes it even more alluring.

He pushed me away. I figured, fair enough. Game over. Don’t push the issue. I had been bad for tempting him in the first place. I ended up falling to the floor ass first with my legs in the air. And no sooner that I thought I lost, in one swift motion he jumps down to the floor, grabs for my panties and violently yanks them off me. He throws them across the room and buries his head in my pussy. Oh my God. He’s a fucking madman and I love it.

He went after my pussy with so much vim and vigor that it puts some others to shame. He was so energetic and gung-ho about it as if he hadn’t tasted pussy in years. He used his tongue and fingers. He kept one finger in my cunt while licking my clit.

I came, and he kept licking. I came twice more before he stopped. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted it badly. He was just going to tease me with his cock. We went out on the balcony and he fingered me while we overlooked London. Back inside he pressed his cock against me, but wouldn’t enter. It’s a fantastic feeling yet simultaneously frustrating.

I played with his balls and sucked on his cock until my mobile rang. It was so naughty how he was touching me up while I was on the phone. It was Wanda on the line. She was early! She was outside by my car! I wanted to send her a secret message that said come back in an hour, but I just froze and told her to ring my buzzer.

The next 5 minutes were spent trying to get him off. I jerked him off for a while. Then I took his cock into my mouth. He came in my mouth. It was lot of cum. A lot more than I’m used to; then again can you ever really get used to someone ejaculating in your mouth?

We snogged and I swapped the cum from my mouth into his. And he obediently swallowed.

My phone rang again. It was Wanda. She said she was outside the flat. I thought she meant outside the building. I opened my front door.

“Anjelika, are you not wearing any pants?”

“No, I’m not.” It was true. I opened my front door while being naked from my bellybutton down, but I didn’t expect her to be there.

She was a bit flustered. I told her to wait outside.

My friend Mr. Fix it made a swift exit.

I met up with Wanda twenty minutes later. She had gone to a café across the road.

We hung out for a few hours, took the dog to the vet and did a podcast.

After she left, I got ready for my hot date with Mr.TVP (Mr. Television Presenter)

I met Mr. TVP outside the building where he broadcasts. We went out for dinner at a restaurant within walking distance. Dinner was nice. I felt bad because I couldn’t finished the lovely steak l ordered.

Mr.TVP is also a great guy to talk to. But I wasn’t sure if he was really listening to me or zoning out into his chat show presenter mode. The restaurant had lousy service despite the food being good.

After dinner we went back to his dressing room. I was wearing the same A-Line black skirt along with a tight black T-shirt that showed off my breasts. To top if off I was wearing black high heel boots.

As soon as we got into the dressing room, Mr. TVP bent me over, lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and began fingering me.

There’s something I love about being bent over. Maybe it’s the feeling of submission. I dunno. Eventually I took off my skirt, shirt and black bra. I was naked except for the boots.

I was naked and bend over the side of the sofa. He fingered me for a while and stuck his cock inside. Mmmmmmmm.

His cock wasn’t in there long. I was getting a bit uncomfortable being bent over, so we moved to floor. He fingered me until I came and then we fucked doggie style while I was still wearing the boots.

Afterwards I joined him for a bit in the office, but I was feeling tired. I watched him read some fan mail. Then he got on to the internet to check some message boards. He was looking to see if there were any messages about him. Of course there were. Tons. Why he would want to read them, I don’t know? To a certain extent, who cares what the public thinks. Maybe he’s vain? I guess all people on TV are vain. There are so many creepy people on the internet. Well, I guess I should know.

He walked me to my car and kissed me good night.

Saturday is all about being a bad girl.