My postings here, over the last few years especially, have grown more and more to be visual accounts of my fun adventures . . . rather than as excerpts from my personal diaries which I first started my blog with at the end of 2011.
So as Modesty approaches her eighth anniversary . . . I thought it might be fun to publish a few pages of a chapter from my “Further Adventures – Part 6 of The Modesty Ablaze Diaries”, particularly as it has a slightly seasonal theme.
I am continually being asked for more of my Diaries and yes, I do have (years and years) more . . . but, when one is just so busy . . . !!!
So, in the meantime, I hope you will enjoy . . .
Seasonal Sunday with S . . .
Despite him asking on numerous occasions, S and I had been unable to arrange a convenient evening to meet in the last few weeks before Christmas. We’d had to make do with texting our Christmas “wishes” back and forth to each other from our respective family gatherings (he away at his wife’s family, and Hubby and the children and I away for Christmas day and evening).
Whilst entertaining parents on Saturday evening, I received a text from S to say he was returning to London by himself late on Sunday as he had to go back to work on Monday (today as I write this), and would I like to “pop-round” as he still had a present to give me. In between topping-up drinks, cleaning off the plates and loading-up the dishwasher, I whispered S’s invitation to Hubby and asked if he’d mind. (He was also starting back at work this morning, but I have the luxury of not having to return to the office until next Monday. The first time I can remember in ages having such a long break over the Christmas / New Year period). Hubby’s immediate response of a wicked grin and nodding his head, and then a passionate kiss, meant I had little tingles of excitement as I texted back to S to “I’d like that, let me know what time”.
It wasn’t until mid-morning on Sunday (after Hubby and I had enjoyed a passionate evening after the in-laws had left) that I had a further text from S to say he wouldn’t be home until after 8, but would text to let me know. Hubby and I spent the rest of the day cuddling and kissing, with him constantly making suggestions (mostly outrageous ones) as to what I should wear and what I should “do”.
Both the children had a friend round for our Sunday meal and each would be sleeping over, and, I knew, would be staying up late, so I was concerned about how I was going to explain about going out “without Dad” late on a Sunday evening. As I lay in the bath soaking though, I did begin feeling quite naughty and excited . . . here I was on a Sunday evening, preparing to meet with my lover (whom I hadn’t seen for over a month), not at a hotel, but at his own home, and just for an hour or so!
Hubby was constantly coming back and forth into the bathroom, and then following me into the bedroom, continuing his suggestions from the night before, about what I should wear and what I should say. I told him that he was “more excited than I was” and that I didn’t want to “plan” things and just to let me to get ready in peace. I sent him back downstairs to join the kids with their DVD movies and keep them occupied.
I ignored his suggestions of wearing just my “boots and stockings” under my coat, and instead chose a new-ish grey woollen dress that I’d treated myself to before Christmas. With earrings and a necklace (both of which S had given me as separate gifts before), and my black heels, I told Hubby (when I saw the slight look of disappointment on his face), that I wanted to feel “comfortable and casual” and not “tarty” this evening.
It was gone 9 before the text came through to say he was home. I replied that I would leave shortly and then called Hubby back to the bedroom, as I finished my make-up, to get him to make sure he kept all the children occupied whilst I left, but to try and get them to go up to their rooms as early as he could. He was nodding excitedly, saying he’d be reminding them that he had work early the next morning, whilst trying to cuddle and caress me. I told him he could only kiss my neck and shoulders so as to not “spoil my lipstick”. He was stroking my bottom and asking if I had any knickers on. “Of course not” I replied. I patted him on his crotch and told him “I expect you to be waiting up for me. Get those kids in bed !!”.
It is only a few minutes walk to his house, and he greeted me at the door with a glass of champagne and a welcoming kiss on the cheek. He hung my coat over the banister and led me into the kitchen for my “present”. I protested that he shouldn’t keep buying me presents but he replied “it’s a tradition”.
He was playing with my necklace, “I remember this night”, and telling me how “gorgeous” I looked, as I unwrapped the small parcel. It was another necklace, and I knew, another expensive one. I protested again, but kissed him my thanks as he reached around me to try to fix the clasp around my neck. Once he’d managed to fix it on, we began kissing again, just warmly at first, but then as though we were both releasing weeks and weeks of expectation, it became a gasping passionate squeezing of our lips and tongues.
We hardly ever kiss, not really like this, not the way I kiss Hubby for instance, but the moment just seemed to carry us away and we were both embracing and squeezing into one another in a way I can’t remember us ever having done before. He was rubbing his hands around my hips and bum, and I was sliding mine up and down his back. He reached around and having not even caressed my boobs yet as he normally would, he just suddenly pulled my dress downwards off my shoulders. My nipples were both suddenly exposed and as he leant down to suck at them, I struggled my arms out of each sleeve to cradle his head into them as he sucked and nibbled from one to the other.
The weight of our embrace had pushed me backwards into the fridge and I could feel the cold of the door on my back as he pulled the rest of my dress down over my hips and then down to my ankles. He’d already slid down to his knees as I stepped each foot out of the dress at my feet, and as I felt him licking at me I was reaching out with each arm backwards against the fridge and cabinets trying to keep my balance. He is normally so calm and slow that his sudden reactions now had rather taken me by surprise . . . but at the same time had made me incredibly aroused. I was giggling and gasping as I heard some of their magnet-ornaments falling off the fridge door as I was trying to keep my balance whilst at the same time thrusting my hips forward into his mouth and tongue.
I was really wet and really excited and wanted to pull him up for more kisses, but he was resisting my attempts to lift him up, flicking his tongue around me more and then sucking hard at my lips and clit. I had to gasp out to him “I want to taste it, kiss my juices on me please!” before he lifted away and allowed me to pull him up to kiss me again. I sucked his tongue into me and could feel myself rubbing against him with my boobs and legs and pulling him against me. He pulled away for air and said “Lets go upstairs”. But I protested that “I’m the only one who’s naked. I’m not going anywhere until you undress!” I helped him unbutton his shirt and belt and then as he extracted himself from his shirt, I pulled his pants down and dropped down onto my knees as his erection slapped out of his pants against my face. I sucked him straight in, all the way in one motion, as I held him by his bum cheeks and pulled him into me. I slid my mouth back and forth on him as quickly as he’d been tonguing me, and squeezed his cheeks with my nails as hard as I could. He was gasping as much as I had been, and just let me stroke back and forth on him for a few moments more before I stopped and stood back up against him telling him “your tiles are cold”. He laughed and asked if he could take me upstairs now then. I squeezed him and nodded my approval, kissing him again as we had been a few minutes before. I don’t know why, possibly because I was so aroused, but I suddenly just wanted to kiss him and feel his tongue pushing into my mouth.
As we stepped over our clothes, he handed me my glass and then picked up his, and the huge bottle of champagne, and led me round to the stairs. As I followed him up to the bedroom I could see the scratch marks my nails had left on his bum cheeks . . . I could feel a tingly excitement, but also a slight “god what have I done” feeling as we walked. I wanted to tell him so that he could “hide” the scratches, but felt guilty and stupid at the same time. As he sat back on the bed and extended the bottle towards my glass I blurted out “I’ve scratched you”. He looked quizzically at me for a moment whilst I explained myself, but then just laughed pulling me down onto the bed telling me they “never see each other naked anyway”.
It only took a few minutes of kisses and caresses before I’d forgotten about my indiscretion and I became as worked-up and aroused as I had been in the kitchen. S was much more himself now, and was stroking and probing slowly with his fingers and tongue. He does do lovely things with his fingers . . . I just lay on my side with one leg lifted over his hip whilst he sucked and licked my nipples and slid his free hand slowly around my pussy.
Sometimes my nipples get too sensitive too quickly and I have to stop them being sucked after just a few minutes, but now I was really enjoying and encouraging him “harder” and loved hearing him say how erect they were. His fingers were already pushing into me at the same time and I just lay my head back and enjoyed being able to groan and tell him how lovely it was feeling without having to worry about being in a hotel room somewhere and not being able “to let myself go”. He was telling me how he loved to hear me “talking like that” and I started to groan louder as I felt myself becoming more and more aroused.
I pushed his head away from my chest and down to my pussy, turning over more onto my back and lifting my hips up so he could slide both hands down around me now. I looked down and my nipples were really hard and standing up, I reached around with each hand pinching at them myself and saying “look at me, I want to see you looking up at me from there”. I groaned as he gasped that he loved seeing me playing with myself. I slid one hand down in front of his tongue and tried to spread my lips wider with my fingers. I felt his tongue on my clit and fingers inside me. And then as he turned me slightly over to one side and opened my legs wider, I could hear myself gasping more and groaning as his tongue slid round to my bottom. I was rubbing my fingers quickly over my clit as I felt his tongue pushing at my bottom. “I fucking love that tongue there. Fuck me with it, push it, push . . . “ I came really loudly, I could hear myself and I knew I wanted to be loud as well, as though I was letting him know what he was doing to me, how much it meant to me, how wildly intoxicating and arousing it made me feel.
I rolled over onto my side, shaking and still gasping. I pulled him up “cuddle please”, wrapping myself around him, muzzling my face into his shoulder and kissing him there and asking him to “just squeeze”. We lay tightly together for some minutes before I could relax enough to let him go and roll over onto my back. He snuggled up beside me and we exchanged kisses. Normal ones now. The pecking, friendly kind, that we would normally do. Not the feverish passionate swallows of the kitchen earlier. As we lay together we began talking about our Christmas’s . . . giggling that we hadn’t even exchanged such pleasantries, when I’d arrived. We chatted about the family gatherings we’d both had. The gifts, the food, the waste . . . and the misbehaving by various members of each of our extended families.
We must have talked for over an hour. Each occasionally sitting-up to top-up our glasses until the bottle was empty. I asked him how his scratches were, and he rolled over onto his tummy to let me “inspect the damage”. I kissed his cheeks and then the small of his back, rubbing my nipples over his bum and then turned him back over . . . to find he was now erect again, his willy standing up to meet me, almost begging me to . . . lean forward and slide him into my mouth. I do love that feeling. The warmth and hardness, and smoothness as I slide my mouth up and down. With Hubby I can enjoy scraping my teeth on him and biting at his head, but S doesn’t enjoy that, saying he is too tender, so I make do with sucking upwards until the suction makes a “pop” as I pull my mouth away, and then push forward, sucking it in again and sliding my face down to his tummy. I pull away and lick around him. S is really smooth at the base of his cock above his testicles, much more so than Hubby, and I love licking him there even though he says it doesn’t give him any increase of sensation. He doesn’t like me sucking on his balls, but I cup them with my fingers as I slide my mouth down on his willy again. I then lifted away and slide each nipple over his head before sliding further up his chest to kiss him again and start to lift myself onto him. He grasped me by my hips and wanted to turn me over, but I manage to stop him, telling him “I want to do this”, illustrating my point by rubbing my pussy over the head of his cock and then pushing down on him to slide him into me. I gasp with the feeling and lift forward looking down between both our chests so that I can see myself lifting up off him and pushing back down on him again, watching him disappear inside me.
I was really aroused again now, and continuing to slide up and down on him, I leant forward to kiss his neck and nibble and tongue his ear, telling him “I love feeling you inside me like this”. I can feel him returning my thrusts and we continue like this for several minutes as I sit up more on him and he reaches up to scrape the palms of his hands over my nipples. I can feel myself increasing my bouncing and my groans, leaning my head forwards again to kiss at his chest and shoulders . . .
