Seven Year Itch

I had a nine o clock meeting with a customer four hours drive away, so my boss had let me drive down on the Thursday afternoon and because the meeting could easily run into five or six hours, he said he wasn’t expecting me back on the Friday.

I wasn’t away from home much and so had left my husband of seven years instructions on how not to burn his dinner. Although he probably would anyway and end up getting a takeout or something.

I wasn’t really too worried about him. I knew he would be pleased to have a night by himself, surfing as much porn as he could. Like he thinks I don’t know what he gets up to!

I was just annoyed that I would have to miss a gym session really. For the first time in my life, I finally had the body I’d always wanted, but that didn’t come without a lot of hard work and I didn’t like anything that was going to risk me not being able to turn every male head in the room at my thirtieth in a few months. I had never been unfaithful or anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like feeling I’ve still got it. Blondes are supposed to have more fun after all.

I was on the phone to the office dealing with a few last minute details of the meeting and completely missed the service area I usually stop at for a coffee and toilet break. Damn I cursed. I knew it was the last one for quite a while and I really needed to pee.

Then the traffic ground to almost a total standstill, double damn!

After a few miles I was contemplating having to pull off the motorway and find a garage or something, when I spotted a hand made sign on the verge, with “WC” painted in blue and a blue arrow. I think it said next exit underneath.

The next exit seemed to just be some kind of service road, and I wouldn’t have even taken it but for the other sign right before it with just a blue arrow.

The service road lead to a flyover across the motorway and then to a country lane which I followed, now getting pretty desperate.

At the T junction I cursed when there wasn’t another sign. I went left and after about a mile or so turned around and tried the other way.

Just before I gave up another small blue arrow pointed up an even narrower lane and then a few hundred yards later another pointed down a track that wasn’t even surfaced.

I drove along it anyway. At least it was quiet so I was contemplating having to go behind a bush or something.

At last I came to a clearing which seemed to have a building.

There were some other cars there, and some men milling outside the building, and it was only the blue WC sign which gave me any confidence that I was in the right place.

I parked and went over to the building. I would never usually have stopped at such a place. It seemed pretty seedy to me, but it was better than having to hitch up my skirt at the roadside.

There seemed to be only one toilet so I asked one of the men if there was a ladies.

The man who answered seemed to speak only broken English, but explained that there was only one, but that is was uni sex, at least I think that’s what he said. It seemed almost like he said “good for sex!” He could see my hesitation, I think (and my discomfort) so he showed me the lock on the door and that it worked. God he had the most piercing blue eyes!

So in I went. Locking the door behind me.

It was one of those toilets which absolutely stinks of piss and where you stick to the floor as you walk. I shouldn’t have thought it had been cleaned in months if ever! And used only by men I would guess but I was so desperate by now that I walked past the one basin and the urinal and went into the cubicle. At least this had a strong looking bolt on the door which I locked as well.

There is really nothing quite like that kind of relief is there?

I noticed some of the graffiti on the wall.

I started to read some of it as I finished up.

It would seem that most of it was from men to other men, and that didn’t really surprise me I have to say, but then I saw a slightly longer sentence that seemed to suggest that someone’s wife was involved. Or at least was willing to be?

It was only then that I noticed a large wad of tissue on the door in front of me. I poked at it with the empty toilet roll holder and it fell to the floor revealing a hole in the door of about fifteen centimetres diameter.

How curious I thought.

I couldn’t believe my own naivety when a few seconds later I realised what it must have been for!

I looked around me as I pulled up my knickers. Trying to imagine some of the depraved things which must have happened here!

As I unbolted the door, my knees buckled involuntarily and for a second before I quickly stood again, I found myself face to face with the hole. I shuddered.

Outside the cubicle most of the men seemed to be back in their cars, and I quickly made my way back over to mine.

The man I had spoken to seemed to be coming back from it. I was pleased I‘d locked it!

He seemed to say something about a phone number, But I just ignored him with a smile and got into my car locking the doors before making a hasty getaway.

Just before the end of the gravel track I noticed a small piece of paper flapping under my windscreen wiper and after a look in all the mirrors, I stopped and retrieved it, only noticing as I climbed back in how moist my knickers seemed.

ANDREZ it said. Above a mobile phone number!

Well I’m not usually the sort to daydream, but I can pretty much say that for the rest of the journey, after I finally gave in and allowed myself to start fantasising. I thought of little else.

In fact after about an hour, I pulled over at the next services, contemplated calling the number, and then even though I had given up smoking nearly three years ago, bought a pack of cigarettes.

I didn’t call him though. But I had smoked three of the cigarettes before I even realised that I was driving back the wrong direction!

I threw the rest away and turned around. Then stopped at the same services and bought some more!

God by the time I eventually got to the hotel there was more that hadn’t happened in my fantasy than had!

My husband called just as I got into the room, but I made an excuse that I was just checking in and would call him right back, such was my need for a very different kind of relief!

Fortunately I had with me a little clit vibrator my husband had bought as a joke or something. I had never actually used it. Always worried the sound would be too obvious through the very thin walls.

I think I must have been very horny indeed though because this time I made very good use of it. Not even stopping when I heard whoever was in the next room turn their television down (I am sure to listen to me!) I think I even cried out as I came!

I can’t believe I left it so long to give it a try. It was wonderful!

After I called my husband back, and listened to him lying to me about what he was up to, for the first time ever I spent the several hours, surfing some very hot toilet orgy and glory hole porn on the internet. And trying not to call the phone number. I used the vibrator several more times.

Eventually I did call it though.

I think I do know why the thought of sucking cock anonymously appeals to me so much. A teenage event I suppose. I will briefly mention it only because it might explain what was driving me.

The first bit is not really relevant to what I am writing but I feel that I need to explain so please bear with me.

Several years earlier, just after my sixteenth birthday, I had gone through a pretty wayward stage. And although I had a boyfriend, and wasn’t a virgin, I was experimental with my sexuality, and almost constantly horny.

The man I was around most of course, like many girls I suppose, was my Dad. And I’m not proud of the fact that I did give him more than a healthy amount of my attention.

After several months of this, one Sunday morning, when my mum had gone to church, I found myself sitting in the lounge, gazing longingly at his cock, which I could clearly see as he read the paper, on the sofa, still wearing only his bath robe.

I had no idea that by now he hadn’t just noticed my attention, but he was very interested in taking things further! Until that is that he allowed himself to become fully erect, right in front of me.

I did what any girl my age would have done I suppose, and bolted to my bedroom, though to this day I’m still not sure if that was from shock or horniness.

Dad, seeing everything after that as a further invitation, followed me at what seemed to be just the right moment. Just long enough for my shock to have subsided a little, but my horniness to be still very much present.

No one but Me and Dad have known until this day what really happened over the next twenty minutes or so.

Well I did tell my husband about most of it, just after we got together.