First Post – Meet Amelie, my alter-ego… [FM]

Hi Guys & Girls

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This is my first post here so be gentle – well, not too gentle…

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I’m going to introduce you to a girl during this first read, and her name is Amelie, she’s not a real person, which I know isn’t strictly in compliance with rule number 3 (true stories only), but the stories themselves ARE true, only Amelie is fictional.

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See, Amelie – she’s my alter-ego. I’m a mostly respectable woman. I live in the UK, I’m 30, I have shoulder length blonde hair, a sexy/average body (no muscles – size 8), a dirty smile and I dutifully lay under my husband at regular intervals – and I still swallow his cum – whenever required – and let’s get this out of the way now; hubby is great – I love him, he loves me, the sex is fine and we have a nice life.

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The only problem with my relationship is that Amelie (!) has an insatiable sex drive, and I travel lots for work, so I spend on average two nights per week away in hotels around the UK, Europe and the USA, so there are just so many OPPORTUNITIES out there that I would ordinarily pass-up, but Amelie just can’t say no – what is a girl to do? She’s naughty. Actually she’s just a slut, but she’s fun so…whatever, judge her not me.

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If you’ve made it this far well done, you now know my backstory and are worthy of my other stories, which for the record, I am sharing because being so bad and having to keep it a secret KILLS me. As a married woman with lots of married woman friends, I can’t really announce at Costa on a Saturday that during a business trip to Rome, I (Amelie) got fucked inside the colosseum by hot Italian security guard, or that Amelie has probably had more sex in plane toilets with strangers than any of them have ever had with their husbands…I just feel it wouldn’t go down that well.

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Anyway, enough babbling – here’s my first confession…

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**About three weeks ago, work booked me in for a business trip to Stockholm – beautiful city – I probably visit this client once or twice each year, and my regular playbook is to go to the clients office for a catch-up, followed by a wine and dine in the evening to ‘relationship build’.**

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**For some reason on this trip, despite my meeting not being until 2pm, our travel team booked me onto an early flight, so I arrived at the airport at about 11am, and couldn’t check into my hotel in the city until 3pm, well after my meeting starts, hence, a few hours to kill. Amelie came up with a great idea.**

**Right next to the airport there’s a Radisson Blu hotel, and because of where it is, it’s always full of business types and other lonely travellers. I made my way over to the hotel and picked a comfortable seat in the bar to people watch, sitting on a low slung sofa thing, with a table in front and another sofa opposite, which was empty.**

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**Within 10 minutes of me sitting down and casually observing the bar area, a middle aged man came and sat opposite me. He was probably 45-50, typically Swedish looking, quite tall, smart looking with a pair of thinly rimmed glasses and just the right amount of stubble. Good looking basically – certainly good enough for Amelie.**

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**He said a polite hello as he sat down which I returned, after which I continued people watching and ignored him. When I looked back over at him he was reading some kind of current affairs magazine, clearly in no rush.**

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**I stole a few more glances in his direction, and caught him looking at my legs a couple of times – I’m not arrogant about my looks at all, but I do dress well, and my business attire is what I like to think of a perfect combination of professional and sexy. In this instance I had a snug fitting pencil skirt on, medium-sized nude heels, blouse and jacket. I don’t wear tights for reasons that will become apparent shortly. Now comes the bit I always enjoy most…**

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**I made a loud sigh, looked around agitatedly and leaned toward him.**

**”Hey. I’m Amelie. Are you here on business?”**

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**Men do this funny thing when approached by an attractive woman – I feel for you guys, you’re just not used to it – he looked surprised I was talking to him and had a look around to see if I was talking to someone else. I gave him a quick look up and down and a flirty smile, along with an instinctive stroke of my hair.**

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**”I’m afraid not” he replied. “I’m just waiting for my wife”**

**BINGO – Amelie loves married men.**

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**I smile sweetly. “Oh really. Has she been away?” I ask.**

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**Seemingly replying out of politeness, he tells me “No no, we live in the North, I flew down a couple of days ago to visit our Son, and she’s joining us tonight for a big family dinner. We fly home tomorrow morning on an early flight. How about you?”**

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*The son must be hot if Dad is this hot – be quiet Amelie – focus.*

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**”That’s interesting” I reply, “So do you just prefer this bar to the airport bar or do you have a room here?”**

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**As I ask the question, I lean forward in my seat a little, uncross my legs and open them wide enough for him to be able to see my moist, bald pussy. I’ve instinctively started to chew my thumb – slut-style – as I stare at the crotch of his chino’s. He looks so uncomfortable, so intimidated, I feel so powerful…**

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**His eyes fight hard to look me in the eye. He looks guilty – guilty for his wife, guilty for his thoughts and guilty for the small glances he keeps making between my legs, trying to work out if he should be looking or if I had just somehow not realised that I’d taken my knickers off before I sat down and forgotten to re-cross my legs.**

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**I ask the question. “Are you looking at my cunt…?”**

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**Flustered. “Sorry? What?” he asks, turning pink…**

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**”My pussy. Are you looking at it?”**

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**He looks like he wants to get angry, but I can already see the bulge in his trousers, it’s not me he’s angry at…**

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**He’s floundering – most men do at this stage – so I take control. “When does she land?”**

**”Who?” he snaps.**

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**I flash him a smile. A slutty, mischievous ‘you just forgot you had a wife’ grin – “Your wife.”**

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**He lowers his head – sighs – and answers. “She lands at 1pm”**

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**I stand up, put my bag on my shoulder and take hold of my wheelie suitcase like I’m walking away, he looks disappointed – pained even – and relieved at the same time, so I walk around to his sofa and delicately sit down next to him, placing my hand on his groin, looking him in the eye.**

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**”We have time” I say…**

**Still guilty, he looks me straight in the eye and responds. “I checked out already…but…”**

**He places a gently shaking hand on my bare leg…then pulls it slightly toward him and rests his fingers on the inside of my thigh, stroking gently, as though testing whether my offer is serious.**

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**”…but…I have an idea.”**

**He gets up, adjusts his chino’s to accommodate his swollen cock and walks away, looking over his shoulder for me to follow him.**

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**I’m feeling submissive, walking behind my new found stranger who I’m going to coax into fucking me as hard as he can handle. He walks me away from the bar, passed the hotel reception and with a nod and a smile to the male receptionist (who is also hot) leads me down a corridor.**

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**He turns around to me half way down the corridor and stops me. Looking rather shameful he gestures to a disabled toilet with a big wide door, and says “Nobody ever uses this toilet, it’s very clean”**

**This guy thinks I don’t like to fuck in toilets. Bless him.**

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**I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at him to keep him on his toes and tilt my head towards the door. He pulls down on the door handle, opens the door, motions me inside and follows me in, locking it with a satisfying click behind him.**

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**Before he has even turned around, my jacket is off and thrown over the hand dryer, my skirt is hitched up, my feet are bare and i’m kneeling in front of him, unzipping his chino’s, undoing the button, pulling them down with his underwear and boom, I have a mouthful of hard Swedish cock, which already tastes like pre-cum from his five minutes on the sofa wondering whether he is going to get to fuck me, and whether he should.**

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**I take the base of his shaft in my hand and I squeeze it tight to numb him just enough to hold out, as my cherry red lips slide up and down his cock, lingering around his helmet, my tongue swirling while my other hand massages his perineum, balls and very gently, his arsehole (you have to be so careful, nothing makes a man cum quicker – but not doing it is not an option if you want him to have the full slut experience – trust me girls).**

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**My felatio is very much appreciated. As his moans get louder, I feel his balls getting tighter before they’re basically the size of walnuts, and I stand up. As he stands there and I look at him with wet lips, his hips are still rocking backwards and forwards in a fucking motion from the five minutes he just spent fucking my mouth.**

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**”How do you want me?” I ask him.**

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**All of his guilt has evaporated (MEN!) and he’s now tugging at his shirt and throwing it on the floor, in five seconds he’s laid on the cold tiled surface and he’s pointing at his face with two hands. “Right here” he says.**

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**I wasn’t expecting this, I thought he might be a shy hump – which is fine – but i’m not complaining. I kneel down either side of his head, my pussy perfectly positioned above his face and I take hold of the disabled handle on the inside of the door for a little support. He takes hold of my hips and pulls me down hard onto his mouth, kissing my soaking wet cunt, nibbling at the lips, then licking from my clit down to my perineum just like I did to him.**

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**Now, I love my pussy eaten, but one of my favourite warm-ups is actually having my arse eaten. It’s not something many girls will say to their husband or boyfriend because – eww, slut – but it feels good and I don’t care what this guy wants, so I pull myself forward using the disabled handle and I plunge my arsehole onto his tongue, moaning louder so he knows it’s not optional. He doesn’t seem phased at all, and within a few seconds my arsehole is all lubed up and his tongue is darting in and out of it. I spare a holding-on hand from the handle, and put my fingers between my legs, rubbing my clit in time with my rocking back and forward on this DILF’s face.**

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**Before I know it my legs are tightening, my tits are aching and my clit is screaming as I orgasm on this Swedish husband’s face. My back arches, my head goes up and I moan louder than anyone should do on the other side of a toilet door, but I. Do. Not. Give. A. Fuck.**

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**It feels sensitive – oh so sensitive – so I mutter the word “Slowly” as I slide my arse backwards and guide his lips to my soaking wet lips, and motion for him to gently suck and lick my clit. The sensation is almost unbearable at first, but I’m soon back in the game and ready for his cock.**

**”NOW how do you want me?” I ask.**

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**I pull myself up on the door handle (those things should be everywhere I have sex) and stand up, a little dizzy as he gets himself up too. He’s a different man, confidence is high, his dick is up like a flagpole and he looks like the Dothraki stallion that will mount the world (GoT fan, sorry). He points me towards the toilet and says “Bend over that. Now.”**

**I love his sudden confidence and dutifully oblige. I put one hand on the cistern at the back of the toilet, and rest my arm against the wall and my head against my arm, arse out, skirt still hitched, ready to take him. A quick thought occurs to me as he spreads my legs ready to insert himself, I say “Don’t get cum on the skirt”**

**He smirks and nods. I don’t believe him, but I’ve dealt with worse…**

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**Suddenly he’s fucking me. No gentle entry, no hesitation, this married man suddenly has hold of my hips, and his cock is in my pussy and he’s absolutely pounding it. He’s so wound up his balls are tight and not slapping me from behind, which is a shame, but his cock is more than ample. I start to pant, I close my eyes and think about what a dirty little slut I’m (Amelie) being and for sadistic reasons I can’t fully explain, I sometimes think about what my husband is doing, hoping he’s walking over porn or something naughty yet more mundane than my sluttery.**

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**I snap back as hot Swedish, guilty married DILF slaps my arse on both cheeks in quick succession. I love that, and it starts to push me towards orgasm again. I imagine this man behind me taking his wife to bed that night, his cock hard under the sheets as he recalls this dirty fuck with a little blonde slut he met at the airport. I imagine all of the wanks he’ll have over me in the future and suddenly I’m there – my legs straighten, my grip on the cistern tightens and my eyes open as my pussy starts pulsing, chewing on his cock as my body shudders and I let out moans that are one or two octaves below a scream.**

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**This is all the encouragement he needs and suddenly he’s pounding with all his might, quicker and harder, and just five seconds later he’s filling my pussy with cum, as I try to calm my breathing and get feeling back in my arm.**

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**I look at him from my place against the wall violated, dripping with his cum, the taste of his cock on my lips and all I can think is that men are vicious beasts, controlled almost entirely by their cocks. Only moments after he’s pulled out of my soaking cunt, the colour drains from his face as the guilt of reality returns and I turn from an object of desire to someone he wants to get as far away from as possible.**

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**He dresses while I clean myself up – in truth, I sat there and had a pee too. I’m not sure how, but my hair has survived, so while he re-dresses I only have to sort out my lips and check my make-up, and a couple of minutes later we’re facing each other back in our respectable looking clothing.**

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**”That was good” I say, “thanks.”**

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**Guilt-stricken, he hardly looks at me, as he says “Yeah, I erm, I better go.” (It’s such a powerful feeling this way round for a girl – all women should try it)**

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**We walk to the door and unlock it, and as we walk out, there’s the hot male receptionist standing across the hallway, arms folded, judging, clearly having heard our loud as fuck, fuck. He peers around the door as we leave, looking to see what mess we’ve made, but the room is fine. My companion strides ahead, clearly not planning a long – or any – goodbye.**

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**I turn to the hot receptionist and look him up and down.**

**”I’m coming back tomorrow if you’re working” I tell him. He looks at me with a smirk and says he has a girlfriend (!!). But that’s a whole other story, a whole other day, a whole other confession, and a whole other hour trying to decide whether to wank or write.**

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*Enough Amelie! It’s bedtime…x*

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/c2ao1e/first_post_meet_amelie_my_alterego_fm