It's been a busy week with not too much time for myself.......
This afternoon I drove up the M11 motorway to the university city of Cambridge for some specific business and some important shopping errands. My mind was on several important matters, the items I would shop for, the brooding sultry weather (always on the mind of every Englishman) and that I had jumped into the car with no rain clothing,.....I was reconciled to probably getting wet. My mind was busy and not on sex.
As usual, I parked on the outskirts of the city and started on the 15 minute walk to the town centre which I always enjoy so much whenever I visit Cambridge. The people here are mainly intelligent, educated and interesting. some of them are also very attractive, both young and old. Across the park, along the Fen Causeway, along the side of the Cam past the boaters and rowers, the punts full of girl students and tourists.,...and so to the sudden splendour of Kings College Chapel. My mind was busy and not on sex.
Outside the chapel I saw a couple of young students with a bicycle in a heated discussion about how to travel across the city. The man offered his elegant companion the crossbar to ride on but she was clearly uncertain,....they were not easy with eachother and finally, he demanded that she get on the cycle with him,....my mind was busy and not really on sex. Then a surprise; instead of getting onto the cycle facing forwards, she suddenly climbed across his lap and delicately wrapped her legs around him and his embarassment was clear,...she put her cheek next to his and as he started to pedal she turned into him in an intimate and loving embrace, causing him to falter and nearly loose his....their, balance. My mind was busy and not properly on sex,....as they rode away I saw her small tongue come out of her mouth and press against his jaw, I felt my clothing tighten between my legs,...My mind was busy and not fully on sex.
I walked towards the market square and stopped to admire a group of older women comparing the dark blue jeans that they were all wearing,..the jeans fitted so well to their graceful buttocks. One woman was tall, slender and beautiful but one of the others was short and curvy with rounded thighs, lively eyes and soft mouth....I thought of how it would feel to gently stroke her lovely bottom and I felt the centre of my palm suddenly burn. My mind was busy and only partly on sex.
I bought tea and sat for a minute outside the cafe in the market watching the womens feet as they passed,...open sandles against the white skin, some of the feet small and pretty, some large and strong at the end of firm bare legs. Their calves smooth for the caress of their men. Later, in one of the shops I passed behind a muscular woman squating on the floor to find something on the lowest shelf,..her jeans had pulled away from her beautiful bottom, allowing the opening to show above her belt. As I squeezed behind her I exchanged a grin with her male companion who clearly knew and liked that I looked down into her secret place where dark hairs surrounded her anus. My mind was busy and largely on sex.
In a music shop near the market I watched a slendid lady pianist demonstrating the pianos with some exquisite Rachmaninov, her bare legs animated by the running music under her short skirt and her red panties cupping her crotch,..my mind was busy and consumed by sex.
The drive down the motorway towards London was uncomfortable,...my mind was busy and bent on sex.