Arguments with my husband always bring out the worst in me. His insistence that I act the dutiful housewife incites me with rage, at forty-five he should know better. He knows why he married me so why does he wind me up? His last words when he left the house this morning were scathing because I insisted on giving him a blowjob while he was trying to get ready for an important business meeting. In truth, I did spill some spunk down his trousers. It was unlike me, but then he shouldn’t have struggled.

“I may as well go and fuck the whole of London Town – for all you care,” I shouted after him.

My trailing words fell on deaf ears as the door closed behind him, though a text message popped on my phone moments later, do it Cinders – see if I care.

I hatched a plan. A trip from my home town of Reading to London, drop by my favourite sex shop to stock up on kinky outfits, dinner at somewhere close to the Ritz. The Ritz probably wouldn’t let me in any way; my outfit would let me down on that score. I would then hang around town before trekking off to The Kink. A favourite venue of mine.

That’s what I planned and that’s precisely what I did. What he made me do.

I won’t go into the details but I reached The Kink at ten precisely. I figured that I would have to get a taxi back in the late hours of the morning. I decided to wear one of the new outfits that I had just purchased. It was minimalistic. A few straps and ties that crisscrossed my body. I looked at it and decided I needed an instruction manual. Luckily, the woman next to me had bought the very same outfit and she helped me into it. It was such a relief and I managed to cop a feel of her tits while I balanced on one foot. I was sure it wouldn’t be the only thing I would cop a feel of before the night was out.

I was horny getting to The Kink, but after browsing through the various rooms and watching various rutting couples get off, I found myself on-heat. I entered the orgy room and looked around me at all the wonderful flesh on display. I walked right into the middle of them, my hands caressing several different bottoms before I reached the middle. By the time I stopped, I was moaning into the mouth of the woman I was kissing, stroking a hot cock with my left hand and preparing to be shafted by the one prodding my backside.

The room was full of moans and groans from people at various levels of arousal. Lust was the one thing we all had in common. I was in my element. Nobody in this room would even think of complaining about me giving them a blowjob. I found myself on all fours several times through the night with my head performing various tasks from licking pussy to sucking cock, culminating in coughing and spluttering from lethal oral injections of spunk.

The night flew by. I looked at the clock on the wall of the main room to find it was five in the morning. With resignation stamped over my weakened body, it would be fair to say that I left The Kink high on an overdose of sperm and pussy juice. I think there was only one woman that outperformed me that night, the same one that helped me into my costume. I made a point of giving her a goodnight kiss as she humped the cock of Samuel Mathews. The proprietor of The Kink.

I hit London in a tight-fitting one-piece dress with just the obligatory hold-up stockings, a couple of bags containing my new outfits and my coat. I decided to take a short walk to Piccadilly Circus tube and make my way to Paddington station on the Bakerloo line. I reckoned I could catch the early train to the South West and be home for around eight maybe eight-thirty.

I walked onto a desolate Paddington station. At that time in the morning, even the food vendors were closed and so I slumped into the nearest chair.

“Good party was it?”

I had completely zoned out watching the train timetables slowly come to life. I looked in the direction of the voice. The look on his face and his briefcase told me all I needed to know. Businessman, probably thinking that I was high on drugs and in some respect I was.

“How do you fancy getting your cock wet?” I asked him, leaning in his direction so that he could see down my cleavage. He didn’t answer, just looked confused. I stood up, grabbed his hand and gave a tug. He stood up with me.

“Come with me, I know just the place.”

I led him to the gent’s toilet and once inside made a beeline for one of the cubicles. I positioned my businessman next to the seat and started to unbutton his trousers. By the time everything was around his ankles he had a boner to be proud of. I didn’t bother to suck it but stroked it a few times to make sure he wouldn’t be having second thoughts. I pushed him backwards causing him to sit on the seat. I lifted my dress and positioned his cock to my abused entrance and sat down on it. He lifted my dress above my tits and buried his head in my cleavage. I started to bounce on his cock with both hands on the back of his head.

I could feel lust seek me out like a homing missile and before I knew it my head was hanging backwards as I fucked his cock deep into my cunt. I started to moan, letting out a few garbled expressions and a few choice words to keep his need urgent. My climax was long gone by the time he mumbled something illiterate into my breasts. His hands had grabbed my buttocks by that time and I could feel him seeding me.

I stood up and brushed down my dress; breasts heaving as I panted heavily. I waited for him to pull himself together. Neither of us was prepared for the sight as we exited the cubicle. To my left was a guy using the urinals.

The businessman scurried off and left the toilets as if a rocket had been ignited up his arse or he had been caught in the act by his wife, leaving me to apologise to the guy urinating. I didn’t have it in me to apologise, so I just smiled at him as I took a few paces closer.

I approached him from the side, just to get a good look at his tool. It was impressive and it was semi-hard, a sure sign that he had enjoyed listening to Melissa’s adventures in cubicle land. I casually strolled up to him and took hold of his meaty cock; leaving him to finish what he had started before my other ideas kicked in.

Our eyes locked together and I gave his member an encouraging tug or two. His hand came upon my breast and I let him paw at it while he finished pissing; though most of it was being aimed up the urinal instead of down into it.

What’s a bloke to do, eh?

I gave his cock a tug, like all men do once they finish, before drawing it sideways towards me. I slumped to my knees and took all of a few microseconds to admire it before swallowing it whole. I couldn’t get enough of his juicy cock. It seemed like ages since I was last fucked. His hands came upon my head and all I could think of was ‘yes, make me take it. Make me suck your dick.’

He did too. He pushed his cock in me, aided and abetted by both hands on the back of my head. Fortunately, I’m a good little girl, and I learned to take cock when I was seventeen. I mean, those boys at school hardly saw sight of the classroom but they could describe the bicycle shed in fine detail and the one thing no one ever had to worry about was white creamy stains on their trousers. As I remember, one guy did get spunk on his jeans after he unloaded copious amounts in my mouth and I was so horrified that I had missed some, that I made it my duty to learn how to deep throat.

I was reaping the benefits with this guy in the toilet. His cock was deep down my throat and I was swallowing his horny flesh like breakfast was about to be served hot, just the way I like it.

Suddenly, breakfast was off the menu and I found myself cock-less, upright and slightly bent over the urinals. My hands came upon the shiny tiles before my head got too close. I felt my skirt rise upwards; not for the first time you understand, and I smiled as I waited for his meaty intrusion to impale me. The thought thrilled me.

He must have been a common lad, not like the upper-class businessman I had earlier, for as I waited for his cock to thrust into my cunt, I found my smaller petals being forced apart and his sizeable girth pay its entrance fee. He didn’t allow me time to get used to it either. I think he reckoned that any woman that walked up to a guy in a urinal and sucked him off is ready for anal sex.

He was right of course. I must have had more than a couple of DP’s in The Kink when I was just getting started, but a little lubrication on his cock from my pussy juices wouldn’t have gone amiss. Still, I was loving his strength and energy. He fucked me hard; forcing the air out of my lungs on more than one occasion.

I was panting hard with my cheek against the cold tiles when I heard a loud and high-pitched yelp come from beside me. I glanced sideways to find a young man standing there, mouth open, eyes wide and wondering what the hell to do. Obviously, he had come in to use the toilets and the sight before him was anything but men pissing against the wall. I watched as he scurried to one of the cubicles. Out-of-sight, out-of-mind, so to speak.

I started pushing back towards the guy that had me pinned to the toilet wall. I wanted his spunk in my arse and the thought of that young guy in the cubicle pulling on his cock drove my mind ever deeper into the world of debauchery.

I sensed that I had him. I could feel him tense. He was a long stayer and normally I would be forever in his debt. But, I had a train to catch and to be honest, I didn’t know how long I had been in the loo with both guys.

I started to clench my buttocks. That usually had the desired effect on most men that had their cocks up my arse. This one was no different. I heard him moan and suddenly both of his hands came upon my shoulders as he fucked his spurting cock into me, filling me up.

In all truthfulness, he must have brought me to two orgasms while he pounded my body. Ordinarily, I would have been undeniably grateful for how long he lasted, especially as there was a lot more pounding left in him.

But my tank was now full, well, maybe three-quarters full.

I felt a great sadness when he pulled out of me, but also relief. I raised myself to his level and stared him out. He never took his eyes off me as he casually put his cock back into his trousers. Lucky for him I had done all the necessary preparation, but I reckoned he knew that before he went there. If I had a business card on me, I would have given him one. He was a worthy adversary.

The young man emerged from the cubicle and stole a glance in our direction before running scared out of the toilet. I wondered whether he flushed the customary soggy toilet paper down the loo or came all over the toilet door while watching us over the top of the cubicle. I didn’t have time to check it all out.

“I’ve got a train to catch,” I said as I kissed the guy on the lips and winked at him. I picked up my bags and ran out of the toilet, following in the footsteps of the young lad.

“Thanks,” I shouted.

“You’re welcome,” came the reply.

I saw the young lad head directly for the train on platform 1. I quickly checked the boards to find that it was the train I wanted, the one to Penzance and I followed him. I had this wicked idea. So wicked in fact, that even I was surprised by it.

The guardsman was busy walking along the train and closing all the doors. I looked at the clock on the platform which indicated it was ten minutes past seven in the morning. I was beginning to feel a little knackered and hungry. I quickly boarded the train and made my way to the buffet car only to find that all I could get on this early train was stale sandwiches and coffee. They would have to do.

I made my way slowly through the train looking for a young lad with a red corduroy jacket and a blue rucksack. After three carriages, I found him. I placed my bags on the top shelf and plonked myself down right next to him. Trapping my victim on the inside by the window.

“Phew. Just in time, and it looks like I got the last available seat,” I said, directing my comment towards him.

I saw him swallow hard and look around the carriage. He and I both knew the whole carriage was just about empty and it wasn’t long before he smiled, turned his head and looked out of the window avoiding my gaze completely. I thought that was rude. Especially to the person that was about to suck him off before he got to college or wherever.

I waited for a few moments to see whether he would relent and speak to me. I studied him, both directly and via his reflection in the window. I wondered what I could do that would demand his attention. Something smutty perhaps.

I finally stuck my hand between my legs and scooped up a glob of spunk that was busy leaking from one of my orifices. I held it up so that he could see the gluey substance on the tips of my fingers.

“Look how horrible it is when it gets out. What’s a girl to do with that?” I said, casually. He looked, screwed up his face a little but said nothing.

I casually wiped the spunk into my stockings; smearing it around until it covered most of my inner thigh.

“We shan’t make that mistake, shall we,” I told him, before reaching for the erection that I could see growing in his jeans. I could see how firm his cock was underneath the denim fabric, I could hear his raspy breath and his chest rise and fall in that way that told me he was aroused. He wasn’t the only one.

I let my hand caress his hard member before I pounced on him.

“Shall we?” I asked.

He just nodded quickly. Not a word was said. I smiled and grasped his hardness, squeezing it.

“You’re gonna love this, I promise,” I told him.

I undid his buttons and zipper. He was courteous enough to lift his bum off the seat so that we could get his trousers down a little so that I could release his cock. I pulled on it a little and then curiosity hit me.

“Did you wank… back there… in the toilet?”

I kept stroking him, making him harder with every touch of my hand. He nodded quickly. His cock kept growing. Pre-cum erupted from the tip.

“Second time this morning for you then?”

Again, he nodded quickly.

“It’s a little more than my second today," I smiled.

I slipped my bottom back towards the aisle and lowered my mouth over his knob. It was pure velvet to my senses. I love sucking a young man’s cock and the only time I get to do that these days is in The Kink. But here I was on the train to Reading doing just that. How lucky was I?

Very lucky as it turned out because I didn’t have to wait too long or put in too much effort to get his soothing cream down the back of my throat. He was a delight to blow. I only wish I could have looked up into his eyes as he shot his load into my mouth. I bet the look on his face would have been priceless.

I savoured every drop he had and relished every pulse of his thickened vein. He did surprise me though with a second helping. I had started to raise my head when I detected he had run out of juice, but his hand came upon my head and he kept me there – over the head of his cock, before pushing me back down onto it. He started thrusting into me and before I could react fully and give him the benefit of a half-decent throat fuck he had unloaded his balls a second time.

Of course, I swallowed and never spilt a drop.

The announcement over the tannoy indicated that we were approaching Reading and so I lifted my head from his groin. His cock was still erect and while the guy in the toilet, the one that so rudely took my anus without even asking, was a long stayer, this youngster was just as valuable for supplying copious quantities of sperm to a willing and accepting whore like myself.

In hindsight, I think my husband was probably right.

I was surprised to see the businessman walk towards me as the train slowly pulled into the station. The young lad hadn’t even had time to push his cock back inside his jeans when the businessman walked past us and I clocked the wry smile on his face.

I stood up and made my way to exit the train.

I leaned into the young lad and kissed him fully on the mouth. It was a move that he didn’t expect, that’s for sure.

“You were wonderful, I loved sucking you off, but this is my stop,” I told him.

The smile on his face told me that I had probably made his day.

Outside the station, I made my way to the taxi rank and got in line with the businessman. I fancied asking him whether he wanted to share a taxi, but I reckoned he may well have declined. Besides, my breath stank of spunk.

I slumped in the back of the taxi. Knackered – yes, hungry – yes (but not so much now that I’d had breakfast), satisfied – hell yes and some.

I walked into our apartment to find my husband in his dressing gown eating breakfast. He looked at me over his morning paper. I threw the British Rail coffee cup into the bin. I must have looked a real sight to behold but fortunately, I had my coat on so he couldn’t see the dried spunk stains on my stockings.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, and thank you.”

“For what?”

I kissed him on the forehead, “for making me angry with you. I needed that.”

I smiled, still tasting the last guy on my lips, the one that blew his load down my throat twice just outside Reading station.

It had indeed been a wonderful night on the town. I made another coffee and sat opposite him, sipping it rather loudly between stares. My mind was wandering, more out of tiredness than anything else and I wondered whether he had ever been in the same position as my businessman on the platform at Paddington? Had he ever come across someone like me?

I was curious, but not curious enough to ask him. I got up to walk to the bathroom, depositing my coat in the hallway. I threw the bags on the bed. I started to pull at my clothes; dumping the filth in the laundry basket.

I heard a shout from the kitchen.

“I’ve got time for that blowjob now…”

What the fuck – I was saturated with spunk, yet he always managed to surprise me, make me smile.