Gerry

Since last April I’ve been exchanging emails with a gentleman who reads this blog. I say gentleman because that’s exactly what he is, ever so polite and charming. He’s also very intelligent and witty. Some of his emails made me laugh out loud and when I took the liberty of forwarding them to Lora she chuckled for days.

Not only does he make me laugh, he wrote a few passages that have made me as horny as Hell, and I’ve sometimes found myself with my hand in my knickers before I even opened his email. He’s got such a dirty imagination and from opening the attachments he sent to me I discovered that it’s complemented but a quite exquisite taste in erotica.

After a few months he included his phone number in a message and suggested that I may like to speak to him at some point. I resisted that temptation for a while until I remembered that you can withhold your own phone number when you choose to, so one evening when Chloe was out fucking Sugar, I called him.

My God! He had a gorgeous voice, undeniably on the posh side, but also deep and resonant. He also turned out to have an extensive knowledge of my sexploits, and there was something about the way he sounded when he talked about the guys and girls who have pleasured my cunt over the last twelve months made me unbelievably wet. When Chloe eventually came home she found me passed out on the living room carpet surrounded by a huge array of used sex-toys.

He has become the undisputed World Champion of phone sex and has been available to charm me whenever I’ve been sitting at home alone pretty much on demand, and he wasn’t at all fazed when he was put on speaker-phone so Chloe could hear him when she was kneeling between my legs licking my clit.

He managed to call us both “dirty little whores with desperate wet cunts” in a way that made us each orgasm (loudly).

I never made a secret of Gerry. I told Ted and Paul about his particular talent and of course I was perfectly happy to tell my girlfriends about him. The Model replied to one of the emails I’d forwarded to her and told me that she’d been thinking about one of his paragraphs during a shoot and the photographer had told her that she’d never looked so hot.

He became something of an obsession, because he was never so crass as to tell me what he would want to do to me, but rather encourage me to be more adventurous and then descriptive in explaining to him what I’d been doing. In return, although he didn’t ask me, I found that instead of writing the blog I would write only to him.

We didn’t actually meet for a very long time. Part of me didn’t want to break the spell his disembodied voice and script had over me. When he attached a photograph of himself I discovered that he was really very handsome, and he told me that he was in his sixties and that he was a widower. He was actually not much older than my Grandpa would have been, but he still fascinated me.

His tastes in erotica are pretty classical in that he’s not really interested in BDSM or humiliating women, he has the attitude that girls are to be adored, cherished and worshipped before, and while, they were fucked very hard.

If he has a fetish then it’s for nice lingerie and shoes (which suits me!) and he told me that the time that my boss gave me the money to buy matching underwear for myself and Alice before he had us in the Hotel in Marylebone was one of his favourite posts. I asked him if he would ever like to take me shopping. He said that he would, and he asked me which of my friends I would like to accompany me.

I thought about that for a week or so.

All of the girls I’ve had have seen some of his emails, and most of them could have been persuaded to come along. Alice had done it before, but like the other girls in Brighton, with the exception of Lora’s attempts to get pregnant with Ted she’d been spending the summer being exclusively lesbian. The Model, who earns such a vast amount of money that she doesn’t really need to have a gentleman buy her very nice knickers, was away on a shoot in the Maldives. So the only person I could think of was Chloe. I sent him the same picture of the teenager licking my cunt that I taken when I was talking to the Model and his reply stated, “If the tattooed beauty who offered her cunt to your pottery friend would like to join us, then it will be my pleasure”.

If I felt like a bit of a pimp in suggesting to Chloe that we should let a man old enough to be our grandfather, take us shopping for nice knickers and shoes, she soon dissuaded me of that.

“Let’s face it Jayne,” she said, “both of us have been getting off on his emails and phone calls for months!”

So Gerry came up to London and we met him in his hotel in St. James’s for lunch. He was so attentive. He made Chloe feel at ease so easily that she was giggling and hanging on his every word. He made her blush such a deep crimson when he asked her over coffees if she was still going without any knickers that I had to laugh. When she replied, “I was hoping that you might be able to provide me with some”, he said that he would remedy that straight away and asked that lunch be added to his bill.

He took us to shops that I didn’t know existed, places in Knightsbridge and Chelsea that made both of us squeal with delight when assistants brought out the prettiest little creations in lace or the most outrageous high-heels. The carrier bags lined up around Gerry’s feet and we blurted out thanks to our Sugar-Daddy only to be whisked off in a taxi to another shop in some other part of town. God knows how much money he spent and then he asked me, “Did Paul ever buy you the ‘N-Joy Eleven’?” When I answered that he hadn’t, he gave the cab driver a new address.

At his hotel the doorman had to help empty the cab of shopping bags and receptionist had to call for someone to carry them to his suite.

When we were alone he kissed each of us on the cheek and asked if we were happy with our gifts. Of course we were delighted, and told him as much. Gerry went into the bathroom and ran hot water into the bath-tub, then he suggested that we should take a little while to try on the presents he’d bought us, and to offer us a little privacy he said that he would see us both in the bar at six.

When he went downstairs and me and Chloe broke open all the bags. The contents were scattered all over the room and we looked like kids in a candy store. The last present we retrieved from the shopping bags was the enormous stainless steel dildo. We passed it to each other caressing the shape and feeling the weight of it, as I silently anticipated the sensation of the toy in my cunt.

We left it beside the bed and went downstairs.