Jeannie was one of the advertising sales girls at the little consumers' magazine where I was the editor. She was friendly and chatty, not highly educated but able to hold a conversation, and she had a cheeky sense of humour. She also spoke frankly and provocatively sometimes. I had discussed sex with her once or twice, just finding ourselves on the subject for some reason, and one thing that stuck in my mind was that she had unapologetically told me she didn’t give oral.

I say unapologetically because oral sex has become such a major part of anyone’s sexual repertoire, and women who won’t give a blowjob are regarded as spoilsports, Victorian-minded killjoys who don’t understand the give-and-take process that makes this wonderful form of human interaction so satisfying. To me it seemed Jeannie was denying herself and her partners a pleasure that was as fundamental as kissing and stroking, but she wasn’t aggressive or insulting about it, just frank. She had, in fact, suggested that, if I was interested in that, I should ask one of the other girls, Tanyika, because she did it and liked doing it.

Maybe I’m naïve, but I hadn’t been suggesting Jeannie and I did anything together anyway. She was married and although I was divorced, I didn’t have to complicate work situations in order to get a shag. Perhaps she just assumed every man quietly wanted to have sex with her, and of course, she probably wasn’t far wrong; every heterosexual man does assess every woman in that respect, whether consciously or not. I certainly do. I can’t help automatically wondering whether any given female would be fun in the sack and, given my personal obsession, whether she would let me lick her arse.

Taking a different look at the conversation, I wondered if Jeannie had discussed me with Tanyika and Eek, as she was known, had said she would like to suck my cock. Anyway, Eek was not, at the time, the sexy girl she would grow into. At 18 she was still her parents’ awkwardly developing daughter, with greasy skin and pimples, wearing unflattering clothes and seemingly with no desire to appeal to men. How little we know of each other.

As for Jeannie, I knew she was sexually aware, but our chats about it had never become suggestive. She had told me she used to lie in bed at her parents’ house with the window open, but nobody ever came in and had sex with her. There was no suggestion she wanted to be raped, but therein lies the conundrum for men: if you don’t try it on you may never know, but if you do try, you could end up in serious trouble.

Several years went by and I bumped into Jeannie one night in a hotel bar where I had taken my Portuguese girlfriend for a drink. That relationship was going nowhere, so when a gang of her friends arrived and said they were going to a club, I encouraged her to go with them, because she knew I didn’t enjoy that kind of thing.

That left me with Jeannie, who had also been with friends on a pub crawl but opted to drop out of it and stay there with me. It’s funny how these things work out.

Jeannie was short and slim with a pretty but not beautiful face. Her breasts were small and she had a flat bottom. Voluptuous she was not. What she did have was long, straight, fair hair and pale, smooth skin, and I found myself wondering what she was like naked. As she moved closer to me on the bench in the booth once the others had left, the unmistakable feeling of mutual attraction pervaded the atmosphere and I knew this was our time. We sat thigh to thigh and when I put my hand on her leg to emphasise a point, she put her hand on mine. We shot a look into each other’s eyes and our fate was sealed.

She didn’t want another drink when I offered her one, but when I suggested we went back to my place, where I had a bottle of Prosecco, she liked the idea.

And so it was that we found ourselves on my settee and it went quiet as the moment arrived and we fell into each other’s arms to kiss away five years of wasted time. I put a hand inside her shirt and felt her little tits and she responded with a hand on my stomach and around to my back. Our kiss was soft and tender, her tongue like a butterfly in my mouth. Then I moved my hand onto her leg and between her thighs. She was wearing leggings – tight, thin, stretchy fabric through which I could feel the shape of her vagina and even make out the little button of her clitoris.

Then I wormed my hand down inside and into her knickers and she parted her thighs as I slid my finger into her pussy. She made little happy noises as I played with her, and her hand was sitting bashfully on my leg.

I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and pulled my eager erection out. She pretended not to notice but didn’t object when I placed her hand on my shaft. She gripped my cock gently and when she shifted position slightly, for a second I thought I might be about to get the oral treat she had told me she didn’t give, but she was pushing her hand into my crotch to find and hold my balls. She leaned close to me and whispered,

“Take me to bed.”

In my hastily-tidied bedroom, I lovingly undressed Jeannie, kneeling in front of her to pull her leggings and knickers down and off. I kissed her stomach and inner thighs and then put my face into her pubic hair, which was dark, compact and neat.

“You have such beautiful skin,” I said softly. “You’re like a beautiful, smooth, warm body of femininity.” Then I turned her around and kissed her buttocks before bending her over and putting my nose there. She wriggled nervously.

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

“I want to lick your arse,” I said. She tensed a little and went quiet for a second.

“Really?” she asked. “Why?”

“Because you’re so beautiful and such a lovely person,” I explained. “And I’m a kinky sod, I suppose.”

“You are,” she agreed. “I don’t know if…” she trailed off but didn’t move away.

“Just let me do it a bit and see,” I implored. She put her hands on the bed and I shuffled up to get closer. Her crack was warm and friendly, fragrant with the blessed scent, as only a woman’s arsehole can be.

“You’re lovely,” I said. “You’re great.” As I launched my tongue into her wonderful secret cave she gave a surprised “Ooh” and then a deep, dirty growl of primal bliss.

“Oh fuck,” Jeannie said. “That is… oh fuck.”

“Kneel on the bed,” I said firmly, giving her an encouraging shove, and immediately we were in the fabulously complicit position, a man determined to lick his woman’s crack and a woman now downright willing to have it done to her. She had a quick, bracing orgasm and fell forward as if seeking safety by lying down, Then she turned over and we kissed and I could tell she was playing it by ear, seeing how it felt to be kissed by a man with the smell of her bottom on his face. Then she clearly passed her own test and relaxed into it, kissing and nibbling my nose as her fingers stroked my side.

“You’re very naughty,” she said conspiratorially. “Are you going to shag me now?”

“In a minute,”, I said, enjoying the warmth and sensitivity of her lily-white neck, kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples and moving into her armpits, which were, like the rest of her, little palaces of pristine innocence. She squirmed happily, a bit surprised to be worshipped in this way.

As requested, I slid into her and we fucked like a well-oiled machine, a well-drilled unit.

“You’d better not cum inside me,” she said. “It’s probably all right, but…”

I asked for no explanation but made her turn over. After fucking her from behind for a while, I pulled out and went down on her arse again, and she immediately came again, this time grinding her rump against my face and muttering words like “dirty fucker” and “I can’t believe…”

When I was sure she had finished, I pulled out and masturbated, making sure my knuckles brushed against her bottom so she got some naughty thrill out of what he couldn’t see.

“Now what are you doing?” she asked happily.

“I’m wanking into your crack,” I said boldly, and she just had time to say,

“You’re wa…” before my spunk hit her crinkled hole and she moaned in abject ecstasy.

Jeannie stayed in her incriminating kneeling position until my semen began to roll down her crotch and she became self-conscious. I reached for my tissues and wiped her clean.

She lay on her back and hugged me as I lay between her legs.

“I thought you were a gentleman,” she said, pretending to be affronted. “But you’re the dirtiest, rudest guy I’ve ever known. How am I going to tell Eek about this? I’ll have to say you just shagged me and it wasn't very interesting.”

“Why can’t you tell the truth?” I asked.

“Because she’ll want you to do that to her,” she explained. “And okay, I can’t stop you in the future, but I want you licking and wanking into my arse exclusively for a while, okay?”