Valentines Slut

I live in hope that one day my boyfriend Alex will actually give a shit about Valentine's Day, and I try to encourage him as much as possible. Last year, I got a little red G-string, shaped like a heart, which meant I had to lose my bush and so I got the whole lot waxed off. I didn't realise how much I'd get turned on. The woman who did me was a real pro - yanking out my pubes was just another day in the office for her! But fantasising about her getting tempted to make a pass, and having to control myself while someone felt up my pussy, just made me feel horny to bursting point!

I got it done the day before Valentine's, in case I was too tender to fuck on the night, but the only thing that got me sore was the full-on wanking session once I got home. I got my trustiest vibrator, slammed my filthiest porn DVD in the machine, and poked and punished my pussy all evening. Normally it's back to normal by the next morning, especially if I rub on soothing lotion, but by the next night it was still so pink and swollen up, my G-string didn't exactly fit. No matter how carefully I put it on, the thong would pull up into my slit with my lips popping out on either side. So I just thought, go with it, and had another wank.

When Alex turned up to take me out to dinner - bringing a bunch of non-petrol station flowers, which was a first - I said maybe we should stay in and order a takeaway. All I had on at this point was my love-heart thong, and he was staring right at it. Then he put his face right up close to it, sniffing my excited fanny before pulling it down. He knows my snatch almost as well as I do, knows how it looks before and after a good fucking, so he asked me what I'd been up to. "Let's see," I told him. "Maybe after I got waxed yesterday, I felt so horny I went out on a cock-hunt, knowing you wouldn't be around last night." By now he was feeling me up, just stroking two fingertips over my silky-smooth bald lips, along the edges of the slit in between them. He was deliberately avoiding my clit, which was poking out, all stiff and swollen. I told him how maybe I'd gone down the pub wearing a miniskirt and no knickers, saw a bloke I fancied and gave him a flash of my cunt. Alex jammed his fingers hard up me, making me gasp, and wiggled them about, catching my clit. "Then what?" he said.
"Then nothing," I smirked. He started thumbing my clit.
"What happened? Tell me," he said, and stepped it all up as I refused a couple of times. I told him how we'd got talking, and I'd told the bloke I'd waxed my bush for Alex, but I still wouldn't get romanced. The guy had said if I was his bird, he'd take me off Paris for a dirty, slushy weekend. Then I'd told him a quickie out in the car park would do me!

I think Alex knew this was a piss take, that I hadn't really exposed myself to some stranger and fucked him in a public place. But part of him got off on the idea, liked the thought of some bloke bending me over a car bonnet and ramming me raw.

I was so turned on now, from the dirty talk and his hand, working away on my cunt. "So he bent you over like this," said Alex, and got me over the bed. I heard him unzip and one second later, he was down to his plums in my cunt. My legs were parted as far as I could, my heart-thong stretched down around my knees.