Remote Control

Cavity Hide and Seek!

Kalinda invited me over to her place at short notice after work. I went directly there. Well, the stopover for Chinese takeaway doesn't count.

It was meant to be my night with the boys and hers with her girlfriend.

Maybe she needed a new bestie, as Kalinda had been ditched. Still, she only wanted to stay in and watch the opening episode of the latest season of —The Bachelorette.

I nearly hesitated. The guys had the beer, and it was game three, the decider in the State of Origin.

Serious stuff if you are a Blue.

You know, screw — the Maroons.

K was in her sloppy trackie and sheepskin booties. She was very relaxed, but not how I usually saw her. Here was my girlfriend without any makeup, and her typically well-groomed brunette ponytailed locks were a bit on the straggly unkempt, needing a wash look.

Okay, I saw what she would be like if I got to a sleepover.

The Singapore Noodles with a glass of Chardonnay had us both relaxed. The real test was at frickin eight-thirty—the dreaded programming clash on her smaller, older TV set.

I should have invited K over to my place and split the frickin big screen.

Too late.

I did the new-age male thing and snuggled into my woman on the couch. I could compromise. I could watch an hour of her show, then get my male adrenaline high by watching the second half of the rugby.

Of course, I switched for a quick look with her small remote at the first ad break.

But the match was so intense, with full-on action near the defensive try line, that I didn't flick the channel back as Kalinda returned from putting our plates and glasses in her dishwasher.

Sprung!

"Oh, give me that," she said, and she was exasperated with me.

I joined my girl and watched a parade of endless guys in suits meet a highly strung-out chick. Nothing was male-exciting.

I sucked it up: for a whole fricking hour.

Such a good boy.

Then I went to the loo. When I returned, the frickin show still hadn't started sharing the bloody roses.

"Sweetie, is this running overtime," I asked nicely.

"No, Hayden, it's a double-opening episode."

Well, fuck syndicated reality TV — there was a life-and-death, real man's game, in real-time, in progress on another channel.

"The remote, sweetie," and I made a playful tease, pushing her sideways.

Screw it — it wasn't under her cushion.

I lifted her petite body; she liked my body strength, and K was distracted from her show by my intensity and — sort of — attention.

The device didn't appear under her cute butt.

"Oh, you cunning bitch," I said as my hands went quickly under her trackie top to her bra.

I expected my prize to be sitting between her super cleavage; all I got was two handfuls of tits.

Usually, I would have stayed and played, but I was remote-control hunting — obsessive!

"You tart. Where the frick is it?"

"Where the fuck do you think?"

My minx crossed her legs tight.

Well, surely not — was my first thought.

Then, all my thinking was male lust. I knew how Kalinda liked a three-finger pussy fuck while she worked her vibrator in her arsehole. Yeah, kinky but incredibly sexy.

Nothing for it but to prise her legs open.

However, K was playing to her strength. Man, I loved it when she locked her thighs around me. But now I needed all the leverage I could get to force her legs open.

I failed.

It was tickling under her foot where her Ugg boot had come off in our sofa scuffle scrummage. It was a rough and tumble, free-for-all; we both enjoyed a good tussle. I tickled her weak spot, and her legs were open.

She guffawed, "Tee, tee, hee."

Super-cute!

I yanked her trackie bottom and delightful, previously unseen creamy yellow knickers straight off.

"Oh My God; K; you slut," I bayed.

She loved the dirty talk, and so did I.

Just peeking out from her always mesmerising slitty crumpled pink pussy flaps was the rounded edge of the remote.

I launched like a ferret into her pussy to snatch it; when Kalinda spread her legs, tensed her coochie muscles, and popped it out.

Eye frickin stunning.

Unbelievable woman.

"Oh, Wow, you skanky bitch. Please, please, do that again."

She licked her lips. Her hazel eyes engaged my eyes lewdly and said:

"Sure, but only if you finger my arsehole."

I started rimming her cute, so tiny, indented furrow and then dug my finger in.

Kalinda inserted the frickin remote; too quickly into her amazingly flexible girly opening. So, eye drawing. Intensely suggestive.

Her pussy juices were, lacquered, smeary clear. My cock hardened inside my pants.

My woman fired the remote out of her pussy as I went cock remote control.

I jammed my raging pecker into her cute mouth. Talk about mutual sexual hunger.

I kept alternating my fingers between her sodden pussy and her now expanded arsehole, but our perverted foreplay wasn't over.

There was the gratifyingly dirty connection of minds and bodies as I finger fucked my woman. Kalinda embraced the shameless wonton about her personal sexual need, and I was unstoppable in my male drive.

God, I was raw with her so sensitive arsehole. Yet she took it all.

I yanked her trackie top off and freed her great tits from her restrictive bra. I nuzzled my face right into her melons and licked and gently bit her nipples. But K wanted the hard action.

For a while, we sucked each other mercilessly in a twisty, intense sixty-nine on the sofa.

I pinned her legs behind her ears and drilled her.

Fuck we gave it all to each other.

"Orrhgh, fuck yeah," managed K drawing a rare breath.

"Oh, yeah baby, yes baby, fuckin' hell — yes babe," I returned.

Next, I rammed her arse with cock. Full forceful friction.

Finally: I jizzed across her mouth, face, body and the sofa. K's body was saturated with sex, inside and out.

Wow, were we a happy pair.

K cleaned up and went to open another bottle of wine.

I was left watching a frickin Rose Ceremony on the telly, getting ready to report back to my girl; well, hell, she deserved the remote, which she had walked off with in her hot little hand.

I didn't care; I was focusing more on her naked butt.

Well, K came back, beautifully nakedly mine, with two glasses of white, one in each hand, without the remote.

"Mmm. Let's play hide and seek," said K, sitting with crossed legs.

Oh, praise the debauched Gods of sex.

The remote was not in her pussy, but peeked from her gaped starfish!