We're Only Animals

The confessions of modern woman living in the midlands about her past and current private life.

Sunday 18 November 2007

Grease, Pigtails and Sweet Revenge

So much for writing about gorgeous work shagging throughout November.. my life is taking a hectic turn at the moment, work is so busy this time of year and I’m currently buying my first house so I am frantically buying furniture and furnishings for it… all this before Christmas, but I do intend to keep the blog going and tonight I have a few stolen a moments.

Right where was I? Oh yes, I had failed to keep the work and shagging thing going with the premature Martin and someone else had got my attentions, just for a short while.

On some days my work would bring me into the warehouse where I would inspect the ladies wear before it was despatched to the high street.

A girl would have to be thick skinned to venture into the warehouse, it was not a place for the innocent or weak hearted as like all warehouses across the UK is was a haven for gentle sexual harassment and down right cheekiness. I liked it.

“Corr, Julie’s arse looks the bollocks in that skirt”
“That’s it bend over love, so I can see yer tits”
“Fuckinell, I bet she gets her pants on prescription” (to an over weight lady)
“Do you have an inny or an outy?” referring to the size of one’s labia
“I wonder if she takes it up the Garry Glitter?”
“I was doing Janice last night and she did a right good fanny-fart”

Where regular whispers that could be heard across the rails in the warehouse and no doubt the filthy minded warehousemen were the source and any pretty girl that wondered through was subjected to a wolf whistle or a clever sexual innuendo.

I enjoyed in the banter and gave as good as I got, I secretly marvelled at the top less page three models that had been torn out of the Mirror or The Sun that sprawled the decaying walls above the desk where they slurped strong mugs of tea and ate huge bacon rolls whilst reading The Sport or deciding what horses to back that weekend.

The lorry drivers would come and go, join in the bacon and baked bean culture, perv on you, then piss off to deliver their loads. They were usually old boys, delivering textiles since the 60’s from a time when the textile industry was booming in the UK but someone new had been coming by, a boy my age and what I considered “a nice bit of rough”

I soon learned that the new “bit of rough” was Ben, the factory manager’s son who owned his own distribution company that had been given a few contacts to perv on you, join in the bacon and baked bean culture then piss off.

I liked the fact that Ben was the factory manager’s son, because the factory manager was, what I call a grade A cunt. I rarely use the “C” word but this freak of nature brought me to use it. He was a narrow minded-bigot, an Alf Garnet type character, a wind up merchant and I found myself enter in many an argument with him about him and his shallow opinions. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to shag the living day-lights out of his precious son, with his moralistic views, sweet kinky revenge I planned.


Let the flirting commence and it did, we exchanged telephone numbers and he rang.

“Im just off junction XX, come and meet me”
“O.K”

Now it wasn’t all about revenge on the factory manager, I did find Ben sexy, he had thick dark wavy hair to his chin, chisel cheek bones another big man to fuck my 4’ll and (then) size 8 tiny 21 year old frame. He wasn’t as brash as the others, he was cheeky but wasn’t offensive, a tad more class, but rugged and strong.

Another aspect was that I had always fantasized about fucking in a lorry after watching a pornographic film when pre pubescent, I could say that, that was my first mental sexual experience and has been great wank material ever since.

So we met in his 7.5 tonner and we fucked, he found it a bit surprising that we did it on our first encounter, after I’d given the usual little miss innocent blag during working hours, but I don’t want to write about my first experience with Ben .. as things got a lot hotter and he became an ultimate fuck-buddy that summer.

“I’m just coming off junction XX, NO PANTS” He’d demand
“O.K” Like I had a choice

Denim mini skirt – check (fashionable then)
No top – Check
Denim Jacket, buttoned up – Check
Pig tails – Check
Virgin style pussy smooth & bold – Check
Teenage ankle socks – Check
Teenage trainers – Check
No pants – Check
Hope to Christ I don’t have an accident –Check

So we’d meet down a dark slip road somewhere after he finished his day on the road and he’d move over to the passenger seats, we’d gently chat and then he’d sexily kiss me, pulling me on him so I am straddling him.

Despite him just finishing work and being covered in grease which was a contrast from my just showered freshness, he smelt natural and masculine, not of odour – I breathed him.

God he was hard already feeling his cock through his oil stained jeans, likening the feeling of his denim against my panti-less pussy. Kissing him more, stroking his face admiring those chisel cheek bones and the days dirt that graced them made his eyes greener and gave him that weathered look

He started un-buttoning tightly fitted jacket, whilst I’m gyrating my pussy over his hard on through his jeans, which is riding my skirt up over my arse, my nipples are exposed to the cool night air and he stokes through my cleavage with this rough oil stained hands.

“No bra either!” he celebrates by licking over my pert tits that are covered in goose bumps. My head roles back with the tingling sensation that travels down my spine and I run my hands through his dark waves of hair.

I stand on the seats before him, raising one knee to the side of his head.

“I cannot believe it, your not wearing any pants!”
“You did ask” I giggled

He muzzles my fresh-ness, between my legs, pulling me to his mouth.

“Fuck me, its bold as well, you’ve shaved your cunt, your such a dirty bitch!”

He then ravishes me, sucking , teasing my clit until his tongue reaches between each lip, I gyrate myself again over his mouth and I can feel my juices, crawl to the side of my legs and over his tongue. I have a small spazm of an orgasm, moaning for him to fuck me as he licks my clit faster.

I sit back down on him, gently bouncing on him, “Ohh I want you to fuck me ” I beg, still feeling the hardness of him through his fly, pulling at his button holes, he assists releasing his stiff cock that I badly want to ride.

So I lower my shaven cunt down onto him, slowly, taking him wholly, breaking me in, it felt good and after a few rides up and down his shaft, I was moaning like a banshee, I then spun my self around so that I could fuck him cow-girl style, just like in the porn movie and he grabs for my tits, twisting and pulling at my nipples.

Wanking my clit as I’m riding him brings me so close to a mind blowing orgasm, but he wasn’t letting me do all the hard work, so he pushed me forwards onto the dash board, pulling my skirt over my arse where he caresses my peachy cheeks and slams his cock into me doggy style.

“Your such a great fuck” he says as he entering me again, his big frame makes me feel like rag doll as he roughly fucks me into the dash board, pulling pig tails and building up speed. “Oh that’s it Ben, fuck me” biting my bottom lip.

We both cum like that together, Ben pumping me full of cum and the moment I felt him squirting, it sent shivers down my spine, along with temporary blindness that I often suffer during the height of any good orgasm..

“Oh Ben, your making me cum” and I struggle to open my eyes as the pleasure takes over me, body and soul.

Revenge was bliss, we made love (arguable) and not war.

Sunday 11 November 2007

In the Cold Light of Day

The MD’s Right Hand Man Part 2

Back in the cold light of day with my colleague Martin, in the sobriety of the work place and things became predictably awkward without the booze, lace and his mothers kitchen work top

I am really not very good at mixing the three main lifestyle elements (work, men and
mates) I like to keep my personal life away from work to enable me to keep my options open and to avoid burning to many bridges in the process.

But I did fuck Martin twice more just to get him out of my system. The second time was similar to the first, where we went to his village pub and then back to his.

The third time was when we both attended a mutual colleague’s house warming party where we flirted throughout the evening and shared a taxi home, only it never reached my house because the snogging was far too excellent on the way home, so I made the driver stop at Martin’s first in hope that he would ask me in.

From what I remember, I was quite feisty from the moment we where alone after leaving the party, I seam to recall straddling him in the taxi, desperately squeezing his cock and sliding my hands into his fly hole.

Of course we were past the stage of buggering around in kitchen and headed straight upstairs, I may have pulled him to me on the stairs and I would have defiantly had his trousers down before we fell into his bedroom.

But the same thing always happened, Martin had a touch of premature ejaculation and despite trying his best to stop, he would cum within minutes of any kind of penetration.

I don’t know if it was a common “problem” for him but I don’t think the over excitement and my feisty-ness helped. If I wanted something more with Martin, I would have definitely helped him control his “problem” by taking things slower and by reassuring him that I was satisfied.

I do find it extremely sexy when a man cannot control himself though, when he cums within moments of you doing your thing, he obviously finds you overwhelmingly sexy and I take that as a compliment, it makes me feel powerful, but innocently without acting the demanding dominatrix

But I wasn’t intending on sticking around, the cold light of day was getting to much for me and although Martin was happy with the situation in the work place, I found myself ignoring him not because of his “problem” I just found the whole situation embarrassing without the darkness in secret which gave me sexual confidence to be passionate, or a seducer and anyway…. someone else had caught my eye.

Monday 5 November 2007

Lipstick Review


Saturday:

I arrive at Ronnie’s, were going to a bonfire party.

He comes over to hug me.

“Let’s do it” He enthusiasts, gyrating his pelvis into mine.

“We haven’t done it all week, with it being "woman’s week” He groans.

Ronnie won’t touch me with a barge pole if the painters are in or if Manchester are playing at home so to speak.

“Oh Ronnie, not before we go out, Iv just had a shower and washed my hair.. I’m all ready to go” I whine.

“Later, when we get back?” I grin

“But my balls are bursting, I really need an empty” He responds cheekily groping my arse through my jeans.

“Headers?” I compromise

I’ve never seen a boy drop his pants so fast.

So I’m down on my knees like the good Catholic girl that I am and sucking is hungry cock. I can tell he needs satisfaction because his cock is solid and his bollocks are like cricket balls.

I do my best to suck it as far down my throat as possible, moving up and down his shaft as I go. I try my up most to give him the best dirty, slutty blow job as possible to compensate for my temporary shag ban.

I then reach under to stroke his balls and anus, I can feel Ronnie spasm as I build up speed and gently rub his arse hole deeper. He then explodes whilst I’m wanking him over my tongue and during some alternating sucking. As forewarned there were lots of hot messy cum over my tongue, lips and chin. I gulp back what I can– Gosh, I love lots of cum, it’s so dirty!

As we were going out I rectified myself in the mirror and to my amazement my lipstick was still on perfect. This Maybelline 16 hour wear lippy is fantastic for blow jobs. “The Jiz resistant lippy” I giggled, imagining the advertising slogan whilst wiping a blob of spunk from the corner of my mouth.

I did have to remove the spunk from my chin with a tissue but other than that I was perfectly fine to mix with children at the Bonfire Party.

Later on I traditionally ate my second sausage of the evening, a delicious hot dog from one of the stalls. I went to bed quite tipsy without removing my “face” and when I awoke the next day, the lippy was very visible and still in perfect place.

If I was a scruffy bastard I could have gone out like that.

So ladies – the Maybelline 16 hour wear is very true to its word, whether you need it for that all day long lasting effect which is great if you’re a lazy bugger like me that cannot be arsed to top up throughout the day or for that ever last porn star look then this really is the lippy is for you.

Tried and tested by yours truley, I give you my word that it will out last any man .. and remember, yes your worth it.

Thursday 1 November 2007

The MD's Right-Hand-Man

It’s November so, office shag’s it is then.

I started my career as a technical assistant working in a design team developing ladies wear for the mass consumer market. The factory down stairs would then manufacture our designs and send the stock out to retail giants like ASDA and Next.

I liked working there, like all textile factories in the Midlands and in the North of England; it had a cosy atmosphere, there were always funny stories and office/factory banter. The whole place resembled that factory in Coronation Street except on a much larger scale. There was always plenty of gossip flying around and I liked the characters, it was the sort of place where you respected your elders in the midst of the 1960’s façade.

The place smelt of sexual tension, no one felt threatened by the cheeky sexual harassment and everyone was either giving or receiving it (except from the Ena Shaples type characters of course). The warehouse lads were the best at it and the MD was suspected of it and even he had been caught glimpsing down your top from time to time.

I was of course on the receiving end (with very little encouragement) and managed to get myself three very good fuck buddies in the two years that I worked there.

The first was Martin and he started a few months after me. I was cutting some patterns at my work bench one morning and the MD brought around this striking looking man, he was a big guy with thick dark hair, roman features and he was dressed immaculately in a swish Armani suit.

“This is Martin, he is will be working along side me on new business projects and he starts today” the MD bellowed through the department, whilst glimpsing down my top.

We all welcomed Martin but I felt something embarrassing happen. I couldn’t hide it, I could’nt lie, the fact that I instantly found him attractive was no longer a mental observation and I could feel my feelings project from my sick little mind and beam through my eyes and over my face. It became more embarrassing when I got the same notions from him, he seamed to notice me from the moment he entered the room and when he continued to look on in my direction then that sent me redder and redder…

So Martin soon joined our pie and mash down-to earth culture and the redness occurred each time he entered the room. I managed to drop the barrier after a few weeks and we got to know each other in our daily work life. The polite conversations developed to flirting and so on until he finally asked me out.

“Lets go for a drink” he asked sort of insinuating that it would be only on friends-only terms.

What a bull-shitter I thought, I still put on my lacy hold ups and shaved my pussy in preparation for our date.

So I met him in his village pub and I got slightly drunk. As the Stella Artois stole my inhibitions I leaned to kiss him which brought tingling to my groin as I breathed him – god I love the smell of a fresh man.

“Ummm, lets go back to mine” he shouts through the noise of the drunken revellers.

So we walk the quaint streets of the village and arrive at his mums house and I find myself in a small dark kitchen with only limited room that naturally brought us in close proximity if each other.

So we kissed again in the dark kitchen but with the moon being our only light source, I breathed him again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long” he whispers in between short affectionate kisses.

Things get hot and passionate and all that staring at one another was now being put into super fast action.

“Fancy going upstairs?” he plunges whilst rolling his hands over my chest and midriff

“Do you think we should? first time we’ve been out and everything” Not wanting to appear easy and getting him back for all that “just friends” bollocks.

But I cannot resist saying it coyly with my naughty grin and I stumble back into the kitchen cupboards. He follows me, snogging me into them and slotting his legs between mine. He picks me up, sitting me in front of him on top of the work surface and I widen my legs so that he can get real close to me.

He unbuttons my blouse frantically like I child opening a birthday present, sliding in his hand over my erect nipples.

“This is naughty, think we should?” still trying to keep up the frigid pretence but starting to rub my crotch over his crotch region.

My words and body were taking two completely different languages.

“Of course, we’ve been dying for it haven’t we, we both deserve this now” he replies between each deep and sensual kiss.

I fail to say anymore as I can feel his erection booming through his trousers which is digging into me and that just sends me over the edge. I tug his belt and unlock it as fast as I could, unzipping to remove his splendour. Scraping my high heels against his back legs I lean back clutching his bigger than average ample cock.

He peels up my pencil skirt to my thighs were he sees my lacy hold ups and black slut pants all hot and ready for action. I sense he likes it as his cock pulsates in my hand so I lay back pulling the lace to the side and stroke my clit for invitation.

He pushes his cock into my hungry cunt and the pain is marvellous as his cock is completely in me for the first time. I shudder and temporarily go blind as waves of pain and pleasure grow through me.

“God its big” I could hardly say the words, biting my bottom lip.

I want more so I bend my knees bringing my feet up and grip hold of the counter so I can drive myself deeper into him and I start moaning like this is all I’ve ever wanted which was miles away from that Little Miss Frigid persona five minutes earlier.

He quickly covers my mouth with his hand and reminds me that his mother is in bed, so we silently fuck on the kitchen work top fighting to stop my moans from escaping.

The fuck was getting faster and we were both getting close after such a short time but I was unable to prevent myself from exploding and my chest arched uncontrollably as the electric current shot through my spine and down my legs. I then felt Martins cum on my lace and I look down to marvel at it erupting like a volcano over my belly. His face looked flushed but content and we then went to bed.

The next day I crawled away in shame in dread of the cold light of day in the office.

Tuesday 23 October 2007

Amen to the Men

Today:

I finish work at 6, I am so pleased to be out of there, I walk over to the street where my car is parked. The bitter cold air is bleeding me. I hurry and get into the car but there's something wrong. The steering is all strange and I cannot steer, oh bollocks, I bet the tyre is flat. I pull over and my thoughts are confirmed when I see my flacid tyre is as flat as a witches tit.

Naturally I call Ronnie, who only lives down the road and he sends his step father over who's a mechanic.

I wait outside the car in the freezing temperatures, feeling useless, I open the boot to find the jack, a spare tyre and a screw driver-type thingy.

I examine the jack, how does this work I ponder? and begin twisting the lever thingy. Cannot make it go up or down so I may as well just wait.

My knight in greasy armour arrives faster than a super hero on speed. And within ten minutes flat after some jacking and screwing, alas! my car was now mobile again.

I drove home with the pleasures of the heater on full, pounding into my face and down to my frozen feet. I felt secure in the world knowing that men exist. Not only can men repair flat tyres but have marvellous cocks as well. What amazing qualities I slightly envied, but it was a endearing warm thought and I smiled in my heart as I drove slightly over the speed limit.

So I want to tribute this post to all the wonderful men that mend flat tyres and have nice cocks.

Amen, thank the lord for each and every one of you.


Monday 22 October 2007

On The Job

“Don’t dip your pen in the company ink”
“Don’t go fishing off the company pier”
“Don’t mix business with pleasure”

Are all recognisable warnings we have heard about having sexual relations with people who we work with or who we share a professional relationship. I can understand these warnings. It can be very awkward after you’ve had your fun and then you still have to maintain that professional relationship in the cold light of day. …. But pre office flirting and the secret shagging can be bloody fantastic!

I read somewhere that 43% of workers admitted to getting involved in a work related romance at some stage in their career, I, most certainly am a part of this soaring statistic and some of my favourite fuck memories are of people who I worked with.

I know feel it’s the right time to dish the dirt about my sordid experiences within the work arena and I will be blogging about this throughout November.

But first I want to revisit, what it is that I actually love about shagging my colleagues and as I’m shit at writing, Iv decided to put it in a list as usual.

1. Work can be a drab place, so if you have a possibility of a fuck buddy within your work place then this can really brighten your day, you’re both in the same boat and that can make the work place a breeding ground for striking up some exciting random play

2. The initial unknown of whether he/she fancies you, perhaps their just eye candy for now, but that’s great wank fodder when you get home after a busy day

3. Wondering, what he/she is like in bed

4. The flirting and excitement before you finally get it on

5. Naughty work emails

6. Christmas parties are a lot more fun

7. Excuse for buying new clothes and making sure that you look extra sexy in your corporate bitch suit

8. Sexual banter, harassment and other innuendos

9. If he works late, then so do you, getting through your work load, keeping your boss impressed with all the ‘‘extra’’ you’ve been doing.

10. Having a secret

11. Screwing the arse of them when you finally get him away from that retched place you both call work.

I’m sure that the cons list is a lot greater, but lets not focus on that for now, I would rather finish today’s post with my first work-shagging experience from a summer job I had of when I was just 15.

He was 18 and I worked in his father’s restaurant as a waitress during weekends and holidays. During one summer holiday, the boss’s son and I would start an hour earlier than our other colleagues to put the drinks delivery away.

All the booze was stored in a dusty cloak room at the rear of the restaurant and the boss’s son and myself would assist each other putting away the bottles of wine. We both got on really well and he impressed me naturally being 3 years older than me.

I cannot remember how our work- shagging began (even though we never actually did the full Monty) but I do remember heeling down on the store room floor, sliding the crates under the racks and unknown to me, my skirt wafted up, revealing my lacy stocking top, just as the boss’s son came in stumbling in with a crate of Britvic 55 tonic waters.

He pointed, laughed and made some cheeky comments about my exhibitionism and all I remember after that was sucking his cock in the store room. In fact every shift began like that after that, as soon as we both were in the store room, we both knew it was time for me to get on my knees and suck his cock.

I would suck him until he came, on my face, or deep into my throat, sometimes I would swallow, sometimes he would soil my waitress uniform, other times he would fuck my mouth deep and hard.
We would have to work extra hard so that we would have time to fit in his morning blow job and I loved the intimacy of it and the excitement of getting caught.

Other than the occasional finger-fuck, we never actually fucked, perhaps because he was concerned that I was under the legal age (even thought I’d experienced a full sexual relationship by then).

Things never became uncomfortable once other colleagues and customers filled the restaurant; there were always secret jokes, a wink and a cheeky smile between us that made the shifts fly by.

So sucking his cock each morning was my first sexual experience on the job. What a great job, I was bloody good at it.

Thursday 18 October 2007

Gimp Dogs & Sado Rags


I really don't get this

I don’t want to offend other bloggers, who love and blog about S&M but it does'nt do it for me….

The pain, torture slavery, candle wax, scary swords, sodomy, being pissed on, gagging, task master whips, black lipstick, being strangled, calling someone master, eating poo, chains, dungeons, too much eye-liner, dog collars, grotesque piercing, humiliation, and basically the brutality of having my arse whipped into a bright red frenzy just does not rock my boat or send me deep into my pleasure zone which I so deeply love and trust.

But all those horrid things only happen if your the slave, if you’re the dominatrix then things are a lot better I imagine and you can get a good hour of ass-kicking in, which is great if you’ve had a bad day in the office and your using him as a giant sized tension ball – Now this does appeal, especially if an AK47 has been thrown into the mix and my fuck- wit boss has his pathetic middle management arse on the receiving end.

Still not sex though is it? Still not gentle, hard, gentle, hard penetration is it? Sill not sharing the erotic moment together or cherishing each others bodies is it?

Maybe I’m just a boring girl that likes to fuck missionary all her life and the closest that I’ve come to practising any sort dominatrix activity is some gentle seduction with a stranger or perhaps more of a rape incident with Ronnie.

I must admit though, that I have found some basic sex acts from under the S&M umbrella which I do quite like, which I find either sexy or hilarious

Here I go, lets see if you agree:

Sexy:

1. Being blind folded can be great, not knowing what’s going to happen where or when can be extremely thrilling.


2. Tying him up, whilst riding him because I like the control sometimes
Wearing black, now that’s always sexy!

3. PVC, can look hot and can enable you to look sluty for your man (not sure about rubber, although some say it’s great!)

4.The odd spank, after all I have to admit that there’s always a fine line between (some) pain and pleasure.

5. Sex swings - now I'd certainly give one of those a blast

Hilarious:

1. Making Ronnie wear a gimp-dog out fit for a Halloween costume party and spending a good part of the evening, dragging his dog collar chain with him on all fours and kicking his back side occasionally in my extremely pointy leather boots whilst his friends laughed and pointed.

2.I would love to go to a proper S&M night club where they parade each other around in their sado glory and dress up just for the fun with my mates for a complete piss take.

3. Lying to colleges by telling them that I like to indulge in S&M just to freak out, well breaks the day up, doesn’t it?

I would basically like to conclude that to enjoy being on the receiving end of S&M is not sex, it’s a fetish and quite disturbing. I suspect that the receiver needs therapy and is quite possibly a complete fucking weirdo.








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I am 31 year old woman that lives in the midlands.

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