Ian McShane

It was love at first sight. I'd just turned away from the bar with a glass of wine in each hand when I bumped into Ian McShane (that's Lovejoy to you oiks), from the way he licked his lips and smoothed back his wavy hair while surreptitiously (not) looking down my top, I knew he'd fallen for my 'charms'. It was a Friday night at the Packhorse and Talbot on Chiswick High Road and I was there with a mate from work. Ian was there with a pack of hangers-on, one or two looked slightly familiar but I couldn't place them.

McShane was clearly three quarters pissed, as I could tell when he stopped at our table on the way back from the bar. He had another two glasses of wine and he placed them over-carefully on our table before inviting himself to sit down. Now, I have to admit that I was a bit of a fan in those days and also single. To cut a long, rambling story short we ended up back at my place (the kids were with their father that weekend). Ian spotted a bottle of scotch and helped himself, while I slipped into something more comfy (and a little less grey and frayed).

So, why do I hate him? Well, he broke off a deep meaningful kiss for a huge burp then wondered why I didn't want to resume. Sighing, he then loosened his trousers, released the beast and bid me: "Get on with it love." Not wishing to disappoint, I took him in my mouth and gave him my best effort - and I have it on good authority that it is good. Half way through he gave me an encouraging "Oh yes, that's good. But can you get your tits out love?". Once more I obliged, and resumed work, this time with the Lovejoy mits all over my boobs. I managed to carry on when he started pinching my nipples and I didn't complain when he pushed me off just as he started to cum and got it all over my neck and tits. I didn't say anything as he slumped back on the sofa without a word of thanks, burped again, asked where the toilet was, disappeared, threw up in the toilet and didn't flush.

"Bye love!" he shouted as he opened the front door and stumbled down the steps, looking around for a taxi.

I rushed to the door but realised just in time that I was topless and covered in spunk, I opened the door a crack and shouted through the gap,

"McShane you bastard, come back and fuck me"

"Sorry love, I'm on a promise."

That's why I hate him.

Still, I did have series One of Lovejoy on video, so I stuck it on and frigged myself silly to it while rubbing his cum all over my chest.
(K.W.A. Knickers With Attitude, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 16:27, 7 replies)

Ha ha
At last, a story!

This for the win!
(dchurch bah, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 16:37, closed)

That is ace
have a click....
( TheFinch is getting to grips with the complex plane on, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 16:37, closed)

Clicks your love button manically
Winna
( The Scrunt Wants a Dozen Pints, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 16:41, closed)

terribly sorry
i've just cum
(danceswithferrets is leaking sanity, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 17:50, closed)

Always a pleasure
To read your prose, ma'am. Excellent smut as always
( TheMagicDwarf is back like ballroom dancing, Mon 8 Feb 2010, 17:52, closed)

Many thanks guys (and gals?)
I'd better add that any resemblance to acutal living persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, guv.
(K.W.A. Knickers With Attitude, Wed 10 Feb 2010, 12:06, closed)

"I'm on a promise"
That made me laugh out loud.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 10 Feb 2010, 15:18, closed)