We’ve all got those unwritten boundaries in our heads, the ones that tell us certain sexy antics are a step too far. But how can we judge something unless we’ve experienced it for ourselves? Cathy didn’t think this kind of sex was for her – until she tried it. So sit back, read on and imagine yourself in her situation. It’s pretty damn horny, isn’t it? I thought so. I still get off on it.
IT WAS A typical Sunday morning and Cathy stretched out on the bed, her body cosy and snug under the white cotton duvet in the bedroom of her smart, first-floor Victorian flat. Last night’s cocktail dress was draped over the dressing-table chair, the winter sun weakly slanting through the half-open blinds and her boyfriend, David, fast asleep beside her. She rolled over and traced his face with her eyes, relishing the sight of his long, dark lashes and rugged, handsome features. David was most definitely the hottest guy she’d ever been out with. And the sex was, frankly, just mind-blowing. Like Cathy, he was up for pretty much anything.
They’d been together for almost a year, ever since meeting through an online dating agency. Too many people thought agencies were for sad, lonely people who didn’t have a hope in hell of pulling a decent guy if they went to a bar, Cathy thought. She’d joined because her busy lifestyle – she was a highly successful film and TV make-up artist – meant she didn’t have time to trawl bars hoping to pick up hot men. Sure, she met plenty of people through work, but Cathy found that the best ones were either taken, gay, or both. Besides, Cathy had one rule when it came to work – never ever mix business with pleasure. Cathy was very blonde, very petite and stunningly pretty, and some of the hottest celebrities on both sides of the Atlantic had made it clear they were up for more than just a quick dusting with the powder brush. Several of them were in very high-profile relationships. The sort you often see splashed across the cover of tabloid papers. Turning them down hadn’t been easy, but not even the thought of the thousands of pounds she’d command selling her story had been enough – or the kick she’d get from sucking off the most desired men on the planet. Cathy loved her job, enjoyed her lifestyle, but she didn’t want the whole showbiz world to be part of her home life too.
So she’d given the online dating agency a whirl, and after a couple of spectacularly bad dates, she’d met David, who was a stunningly attractive, straight-talking, no-nonsense junior doctor. Like her, he was worried his dates would be weird, mad or bad, but they’d just clicked. The moment she saw him, she wanted him. By the end of the night they were fucking each other on her kitchen worktop, his gorgeous thick cock pressed hard into her cunt – and had been together ever since. David was Mr Right-for-now, and maybe even Mr Right if it went on long enough.
Desperate for a coffee, Cathy slid her legs on to the soft white carpet, pulled her fluffy white robe around her and padded to the kitchen. Cathy opened the ground coffee and tipped several huge spoonfuls into the cafetiere. Now that she was upright, her head was throbbing slightly, reminding her just how much they’d had to drink the night before. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out two coffee cups, a bowl of sugar and a couple of aspirins.
The memories of last night came to her in flashbacks as she ran the cold water tap and swigged back the painkillers with water. Meeting for a drink in that bar. Then that gorgeous little Thai restaurant in town. The one with the low-level red lighting and velvet seats. What was it she’d had to eat? She couldn’t remember. Drinking too much wine. Wandering out into the city streets hoping to hail a cab home.
She poured boiling water into the cafetiere and stirred it vigorously before ramming on the top a little too hard, sending coffee and grounds spilling all over the granite kitchen worktop, as she struggled to remember his exact words, the precise look on his face. They’d taken a detour through Soho, a seedier part of the West End, and down a street lined with neon signs flashing: ‘Sex shop’, ‘Peep show’, ‘Adult mags’. Girls in kiosks at the front of shops, their huge tits spilling out of their low-cut tops, inviting people to ‘come in and see the show’. Thick-set security guys – or maybe pimps, probably both – hovered in the background, not wanting to come too close and dissuade the punters, but visible enough for people to know not to mess with the girls or try and sneak in without paying. David was very drunk, and so was Cathy. For some reason, she’d glanced over at him, just as they passed the entrance to an especially seedy sex show. He was looking at the entrance, just a small doorway with some tatty blue lino on the floor and one of those cheap beaded room dividers hanging over it. Cathy could tell that her boyfriend was horny. She could see it in his eyes. And when she glanced down, the beginnings of an erection bulged in his trousers.
‘Want to go in?’ she’d asked, feeling mildly jealous and surprised.
For a second, he’d looked embarrassed. Then he’d stopped, turned to face her and whispered: ‘I want to fuck you in there.’
Cathy was pretty shocked. But it wasn’t only David’s suggestion that shocked her. It was the fact that when he said it, she’d felt a warm shiver of excitement rush through her. This was something she’d never even thought of doing before. The idea of even going into a peep show, with God knows what on the floor or who in the cubicle beside you, peering through a tiny crack in the wall at a woman pretending to masturbate – had never occurred to Cathy. It was the preserve of men in raincoats who didn’t stand a hope of a decent fuck unless they paid for it, surely? But here she was, with a perfectly respectable, gorgeous man who was getting a kick out of the idea – and to her complete surprise, so was she.
Cathy glanced over at the doorway, mesmerised. Between her legs she felt a spreading patch of dampness, soaking through her panties and into her jeans. That doorway was the entrance to another world, one of pure lust, where nothing mattered except total physical satisfaction. Suddenly, in that moment, Cathy could see what was attractive about it. Through that doorway was a world of total anonymity. No words, no love, no relationships, just lust. She pressed her legs together, a trickle of her juices seeping down the inside of her thigh.
Had she replied to David’s suggestion? She honestly couldn’t remember. Had the look on her face told him she was horny too? She couldn’t be sure. All she could remember was that they’d caught a cab home and had urgent, passionate sex before falling into a blissful sleep.
Cathy plonked the two mugs of coffee on a tray and wished she’d remembered to buy croissants. Never mind, she thought, a packet of chocolate digestives will have to do, and returned to the bedroom where David was just waking up.
‘Baby,’ he said, as she placed the coffee and biscuits on the bedside table. ‘You were wild last night.’
‘Was I?’ she replied, catching a glimpse of her bed-head hair in the mirror. ‘I’d had so much to drink that I really can’t remember.’
For a split second a look of relief washed over David’s face. ‘I know,’ he said, grinning, as she slid into bed beside him. ‘We did knock back a few. I, er, can’t remember much either.’
His hand was between her thighs in an instant, the side of his palm gently pressing against her bud. Cathy felt for his cock and slid down under the covers, her mouth hungry for him. ‘I don’t think you’re anywhere near hard enough,’ she whispered, running her tongue all the way up his shaft from the base to the tip, easing back his foreskin to reveal the beautiful, shiny pink head. Her mouth was on him in a second, taking his gorgeous cock into her throat, and they fucked, licked and sucked each other all morning, the thought of going to that peep show secretly on both their minds.
Days passed, and David never mentioned the peep show. Nor did Cathy. But thoughts of what they could do in there consumed her. When they fucked, an imaginary sex show went on in her head. When David stayed at his place, Cathy masturbated furiously to thoughts of it, almost wearing out the batteries of her Rabbit vibrator. Eventually, she couldn’t resist walking home one night, on the pretext that it would be better exercise than taking her usual tube ride, but in fact so that she could walk down that very street of brothels and titty bars like they had on Friday night.
The street was quite narrow, just big enough for two cars to pass, and the pavements were crammed with people making their way home from work, to bars and clubs, or just wandering past the sex shops for a look. Cathy wasn’t exactly sure where the peep show was. Then she spotted it.
There wasn’t much to see. Just a door in a wall, with ‘Girls – Live!’ in red neon lights above it, and a tatty red-and-white beaded curtain. Outside, a girl leaned against the wall, the orange streetlamps illuminating her heavily made-up face. Probably in her late 20s, Cathy decided, though with so much make-up it was hard to tell. She was wearing a low-cut white shirt, micro skirt which gave a glimpse of her lacy panties, and the tallest black stilettos Cathy had ever seen. The girl took a long drag on a cigarette and chatted casually to one of the ‘security’ guys lurking in the shadows beside her. Cathy realised she was probably one of the ‘performers’ on a break. She was skinny, with long, poker-straight black hair down to her waist, and thick, dark red lipstick. Not beautiful, more sort of sexy in a hard, worn way. But the thought of seeing this girl naked through a peep hole, watching her slender fingers flicking her clit, while David’s swollen cock thrust in and out of her, made Cathy shiver with excitement. She’d never touch the girl, and she didn’t want to. This was about watching, letting her eyes feast on another girl’s tits and cunt. Cathy tried not to stare, and strolled past as casually as she could, but as the girl looked up their eyes met. Embarrassed, Cathy looked away, pulled her mobile phone from her bag and fiddled with the keys, pretending to read a text, as if she was far too busy and important to be interested in a sex club. The girl smiled to herself knowingly, and took another drag on her cigarette.
The tube ride home seemed to take forever, but it gave Cathy a chance to make up her mind. This was more than a fantasy. She had to make it happen, or every waking moment would be filled with fantasies of it. David was up for it when drunk, she knew that for sure, but how would he react if she suggested it to him when sober? After all, it wasn’t every day your girlfriend says: ‘Hi honey, I’m home! Whaddya sat to fucking me senseless inside a Soho sex joint?’ And what if one of his patients saw him? More than that, what if any of her friends saw them? Cathy liked to keep her sexual habits to herself.
She stopped at the off licence and bought a bottle of wine. By the time David arrived she’d drunk half of it. He poured himself a large glass and flopped down on the sofa. Cathy curled up beside him. She couldn’t stop herself. She’d planned to wait until he’d had at least a couple of glasses, but the wine had given her courage and there was no backing out now. If she wanted to make her fantasy happen, this was her big chance.
‘You know the other night, when we went past that peep show . . .’ she began, looking up at him.
David interrupted her, his face reddening. ‘Sweetheart, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’d just had a lot to drink, that’s all.’
‘Have you ever done that before? Gone in one, I mean. A peep show. With someone?’
‘God, no!’ he replied, an embarrassed smile spreading over his face. ‘I’ve never even been brave enough to go in on my own.’
Cathy snuggled closer. ‘So you do want to,’ she said. ‘Maybe we should try it sometime,’ she whispered, between kisses. ‘Go there together. I went past it tonight and just the thought of it made me wet.’
Her hand was resting on his crotch, and as she spoke she felt his cock stiffen instantly. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then,’ she said, smiling.
‘How about now?’ David whispered, so horny that his hand was already inside his trousers, wanking his cock roughly. ‘Let’s go down there right now.’ His hand moved faster and faster until it was a blur, unable to let go of his throbbing, swollen cock. Cathy knew instinctively what was going on. This was David’s ultimate fantasy, and by suggesting it she’d made him uncontrollably horny. She watched him masturbate, leaning back on the sofa and yanking his cock out of his trousers, harder and rougher than she’d ever seen before, feeling utterly thrilled that just a few words from her had driven him into a sexual frenzy. Even though she was horny as hell, she didn’t want to come here. This was one orgasm she wanted to delay, until she was living her fantasy.
‘I can’t stop, I’ve got to come,’ David gasped. Cathy sensed he was passing the point of no return. She lowered her lips over the purple head, and with one suck from Cathy he filled her mouth with his delicious, salty cum, shooting out so hard that it hit the back of her throat. Cathy swallowed every drop, apart from a trickle that leaked from the edge of her mouth, which she swept up with her finger. Her own clitoris was throbbing, she was so close to her climax, but she wanted to wait. She had to. Holding back her own orgasm would just make it even better when she finally came. It took all her energy to stop herself massaging that cum-covered finger on her clit – just one touch of his juices on hers would have sent waves of pleasure crashing through her – but somehow Cathy did it. She slipped her finger into his mouth and he sucked on the taste of himself, licking every drop.
‘I don’t know what came over me!’ He grinned, his wet fingers reaching for Cathy’s clit.
‘No!’ she said, pushing his hand away a little more forcefully than she meant to. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean . . . It’s just I want to come in that peep show. It’ll be even better if I wait.’
‘Let’s go!’ he said, zipping up his trousers. ‘Trust me, it won’t matter that I’ve already come. I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.’
They hailed a cab outside the flat and half an hour later stepped out in the centre of town, a short stroll from the peep show. Neither spoke on the way – too excited, too horny, too nervous to talk. Cathy was about to step into the unknown, a brand new world where she didn’t know what to expect. Where did you pay? How much was it? How long did you get? What if someone they knew saw them? But if she was honest with herself, the chance of entering the unknown, of being seen, of getting ‘caught’, added to the thrill.
They took the cab to a still fairly commercial area with bars, shops and restaurants, but within walking distance of the red-light district. Light, thin rain was beginning to fall, sparkling in the streetlights, and the neon signs coming into view seemed brighter and more exciting than ever to Cathy.
‘Which one shall we go in?’ David asked. ‘What about this one?’
He walked towards a shop front which, beyond an extensive range of porn mags and shelves of sex toys, had a small entrance with cheesy music and lurid, dark red light emanating from it. ‘No,’ Cathy replied, pulling him back. ‘I know exactly which one. Where you first suggested it. It’s down here. That’s the one in my fantasy.’
They made their way down the side-street to the entrance. The girl had gone, and in her place, standing by the wall, was a thick-set guy in a badly fitting suit.
‘Walk straight in,’ Cathy whispered, her heart pounding with the thrill of it all. ‘Don’t hesitate. Straight in. We’ve got to get in quickly. You never know, someone we know might walk past.’
‘Okay,’ he replied, heading straight for the beaded curtain. ‘I’ll go in first.’
He barged straight through, displaying an outer confidence that Cathy knew he didn’t really have. Like her, this was a new situation, one where you were breaking your own rules. Cathy followed him down a dimly lit corridor with a desk at the end. Behind it sat a middle-aged woman, her deeply lined face thick with make-up. She gave them a tired smile. For a moment Cathy had the awful feeling that this woman was one of the performers. The mildly horrified look on David’s face told her he was thinking the same.
‘Do you need pound coins?’ she asked.
David nodded, handing her a £20 note. She gave him a bag of coins, and jerked a thumb towards a corridor behind her.
‘Down there,’ she added. ‘Any cubicle with the curtain open.’
The first three cubicles were occupied, or at least the grubby-looking curtains were closed, but the fourth was empty. Half horny, half anxious, Cathy followed David inside and pulled the curtain shut behind her. It was seedy, dark and hot, with peeling wallpaper and a damp, earthy smell, just as Cathy had fantasised; pure lust stripped bare. She could hear tinny music, and in front of them there was a coin machine and a slot the size of a letterbox. Her heart thumped harder and louder than she’d ever felt it before and beads of sweat dripped down between her tits.
‘Put the money in,’ she urged. With trembling fingers, he slid five pound coins into the slot.
The letterbox flap slid sideways and Cathy peered through. It was the girl. The one with the poker-straight black hair. She was dancing on a small platform under a spotlight, with a large mirror behind her. She was topless, her beautiful, small, firm tits thrust forwards towards their booth. As Cathy watched, the dancer unzipped her micro skirt and let it fall to the floor, exposing her white lace knickers, her tight arse reflected in the mirror. The girl licked and sucked her fingers and ran them over her hard nipples. Just the sight of the girl’s fingers sliding in and out of her red-lipsticked mouth made Cathy wet. Her own clit began to swell, sending shockwaves of desire through every inch of her body. Instinctively, she slipped her hand up her skirt and rubbed it through her underwear.
‘What can you see?’ asked David. Cathy was so overwhelmed by the moment that she’d forgotten he was there.
She moved aside slightly so that David could look through the letterbox too. His hand went to his cock, and he and Cathy stood side-by-side. The girl lowered her panties and bent over right in front of their peep-hole, her wet pink cunt and sexy arsehole just a metre away. Cathy let out a gasp as she grew closer to her orgasm. She imagined what it would be like to lick that cunt, to plunge her fingers deep into it, to probe inside that beautiful arse. The stickiness of the floor under her feet, knowing that so many men had shot their spunk onto that dirty, cracked lino while watching the show, made Cathy’s clit throb almost painfully.
Suddenly, the letterbox snapped shut.
‘Money, David!’ gasped Cathy, desperately. ‘Put in more money. The coins! Quick!’
He tore his hand from his swollen cock and fed a handful of pound coins into the machine as fast as he could. The letterbox snapped open, and for a second Cathy found herself looking directly into the dancer’s eyes. The girl gave her a half-smile and looked away. The girl recognised immediately that she’d looked into the eyes of a young woman, the type of punter she didn’t get too often, and something told Cathy she was going to give her a really good show. The girl sat down on the stage with her legs stretched wide open, heels digging into the wooden floor, and began rubbing her clit fast and hard. A dribble of juice trickled from her cunt – whether it was her juice or someone’s cum, Cathy wasn’t sure – but she knew the dancer was genuinely horny. She was masturbating for real.
David saw it too. He didn’t need to watch any more. She felt David’s hands around her hips, yanking down her thong, and she realised how badly she needed him inside her. He plunged into her from behind, no longer watching the dancer, thrusting his thick cock in as deep as he could, leaving Cathy to watch the girl, who was squeezing her pussy lips together as her finger made rapid circular movements on her clit. Suddenly the girl’s body trembled as she came, and Cathy’s body, too, rocked with orgasm, her cunt gripping on to David’s cock, her eyes wide open and fixed on the girl’s delicious bud. His own climax, deep inside Cathy, came seconds later, his fingernails scratching her hips.
Cathy closed her eyes for a moment, relishing every second of what had been the most extraordinary sexual experience of her life. The peep-hole slammed shut and David pulled out of her, sending cum and her own juices pouring down her thighs. There was a box of tissues attached to the wall, so Cathy took a handful and cleaned herself up. They looked at each other and smiled.
‘That was incredible,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘You’ve just made my fantasy come true.’
‘Put another pound in,’ Cathy urged. ‘I want to see what she’s doing now.’
David fed another pound into the meter and when the letterbox snapped open, the girl was dancing again, her panties and micro-skirt back on, her fingers circling her nipples. She looked straight at the letterbox and smiled. Then Cathy heard a thud as the slot in the cubicle beside them slid open. The girl ran a wet finger over her panties as she danced, but there was a bored, distracted look in her eyes and Cathy knew that this punter had missed the real show.
The viewing slot in their cubicle snapped shut for the last time. Cathy and David straightened their clothes, slipped quickly out of the doorway and back into the everyday world, where they were a nice middle-class couple. No-one would dream they’d fuck in a peep show. And Cathy smiled to herself, knowing this was the first of many sexual adventures where they’d push the unwritten boundaries to their limits.