Nula gets an Up-grade. (feckin International dateline)

Nula gets an Up-grade. (feckin International dateline) Nula gets an Up-grade. (feckin International dateline)

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


flight times mix up, alone for the evening with wife's friend


flight times mix up, alone for the evening with wife's friend


Submitted: March 27, 2016

A A A | A A A


Submitted: March 27, 2016



Nula gets and Up-grade (feckin International dateline)


After much thought, there could be no other option. The Partner was against it, but it was, after all, The Patient’s decision. After surgery in post op all the usual platitudes were spoken but something was not quite there.

The Patient was discharged after 2 days and 4 days after that was allowed to take a shower. The Patient, who grown accustomed to how gross it all looked, stood naked before the partner, showing the swelling, the raw red incisions, the yellow bruising to The Partner, who could not keep the look of horror from their face. The Partner could never look at the patient naked again.



The wife was away at a three-day conference in Sydney and due back just in time for the visit of our friend Nula, who we knew from our years in Auckland She had been back to Ireland and had arranged to stop off at Brisbane for a day or two before continuing on her Emirates flight to Auckland.

I was at work when my phone’s text signal went off. I glanced at the message my wife had forwarded to me.

Arriving 7 not 8. Nula. XXX

Not my problem I thought and texted this back.

I arrived home from work just before 6, by then it was fully dark and the heat had gone out of the day. Gathering up the usual rubbish from the mailbox, I let myself in, walked through to the Kitchen, turning on the lights as I went. The mailbox junk left on the bench top.

Opening the fridge I poked at the frozen steak I had taken from the freezer this morning to de-frost, all good. I seasoned it both sides then poured a glass of Oyster Bay and put the news on, while I let it come to room temperature

I had just sat down after tidying the remnants of my meal when I heard a car pull up outside and about a minute or so later pull away again. The outside light clicked on as somebody came to the door and rang the bell. What the…I thought, mystified as to who might be visiting. I pulled the main door open, my view was fuzzy due to the screen door mesh and the back light effect of the security light. I could make out a woman standing there with a large pull along suitcase in one hand and a smaller pull along carry on in the other, then:

“Hello der,” said the unmistakable voice of Nula. “I hope herself has the kettle ready, you can’t get a decent cup of tea on that feckin plane, so you can’t.

I opened the screen and in she stepped, before I could move I was enveloped in a hug as she planted a big smacker on both cheeks. Still holding my shoulders, she took a half step back saying,

“Will you look at you now, still Mr tall dark and handsome so you are.”

“Actually, its medium and a bit grey now, as for tea, ‘herself’ isn’t here and you’re a day early.” I got the cases in and closed the door, while Nula in her own unselfconscious way had a good nosey around.

“No I’m not, I sent yis all a text so I did.” She shrugged, “I must’ve got the days mixed up with all the travelling and that dateline carry on.”

That looked like all the explanation or apology I was going to get. When we’d got settled down in the living room, I said,

“Can I get you something to eat?”

“Bless yer for the askin, but all they ever do is give yer food on that plane, so they do.”

“Drink then, Tea, coffee or wine?”

She eyed my empty glass. ” See one, play one, wine thanks.” I did the honours.

We talked for a bit, well she talked, I mostly listened and I topped her glass up, which finished the bottle.

“I’ll go and fix your room up and get another bottle.” I said picking up the empty one.

“Away with your nonsense, I can make me own bed, besides it’s not fitting work for men so it isn’t, where are the sheets and such?” she stood up with a determined look. Knowing I was on a loser, I grabbed her big case.

“Come on then, I’ll show you.” not really minding, I wasn’t the world’s best bed maker.

15 minutes or so later she came out having changed out of her travelling clothes into a tee shirt and skirt sitting down while I topped us up.

For as long as we had known her Nula had been a ‘big’ out going girl if you get my drift, a bit Nigella / Adele sized, the life and soul of the party who loved to entertain. Then one day she just up and quit her boring office job, hit the gym and started at Massey University as a mature student.

Graduating not long before we moved, she got a Sales and Marketing job with a big Brewery, where her gift of the gab, new slimmed down look would do her no harm.

When we moved to Brisbane, we later found out via Facebook that she had spent $20,000 on getting her teeth done and a Breast Reduction as the gym work had shaped everything else but her tits remained stubbornly the same. They didn’t look too bad when she was a plus size, but looked out of place unless you wanted a job on as a model.

 So the Nula that sat opposite me, looked better than ever and still not lacking in the chest area.

“So,” I said, “is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Is it true you spent 20 grand to get your tits and teeth done.” the teeth I could see, they were fine and white and even.

“Who said that? “ I shrugged.

“Well no it’s not true it was only 17. I know it sounds a bit precious but It wasn’t all vanity though. I lost all the weight at the gym, but I’d work and work me self into the ground, but I couldn’t reduce them feckin titties.”

“None of my new tops would fit properly, I couldn’t even get a jacket to button, I looked deformed…so off they came…I up-graded myself to Nula 2.0 so I did.”

“There’s still enough there to fill out a low cut dress, but they don’t fall out now. I was a walking nipple slip back then so I was.”

“So? let’s have a look then, let’s see what you get for 17 grand?” All that got me was funny look and…

“Away with you now.” she said indecisively.

We had heard from other friends, that for a few months after the Op. when the swelling had gone down and after a few drinks, before the novelty had worn off, she couldn’t resist flashing them. I remember a Facebook photo, before they got all fussy about that stuff, that caught the tee shirt just before it covered her new tits with their big nipples.

“We’re all over 21 here, I said, “whose to know bar us…and I really am genuinely Interested,” I lied with a serious face. “You hardly ever hear of reductions just implants.”

Her expression seemed to waiver for a second, then she took hold of the bottom of her tee shirt, looked to either side, reflex I suppose, who was looking. Then lifted it quickly up, over and back down.

Now she had taken the plunge so to speak I pressed her more. “Call that a peek I’ve seen more in your back garden by the pool…In fact I can remember the ‘old ones’ escaping on more than one occasion.” She grinned. Pushing my luck I said,

“Stand up and let me have a proper look… give us a twirl”

“Away now, what will Himself think.” The himself in question was her husband Ned who was 12 years older than her and to be fair starting to show it. I applied the screw with…

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Right? If you don’t tell him, I’m sure I won’t.” and waited

To my surprise, she stood, crossed her arms and pulled the tee shirt up. In her haste, nervousness or both she got tangled. I stood.

“Wait.” I grabbed the tee shirt and pulled it over her head and sat back down. A flush appeared on her chest and as it worked its way up her neck to her face. I saw her nipples harden under the thin bra as she reached behind to undo the clip. She let it fall to the ground, hands dropping to her sides.

I was faced with a perfect set of firm, big, but not too big tits, that wouldn’t have disgraced a woman half her age, all topped by large, hard, brown nipples which seemed to grow even more in the open air.

I decided to push this as far as she would let me.

“Do they still feel the same…are they still sensitive when Ned touches them?” In for a penny, I thought. ”even when he sucks and bites them, when he chews on them until you can’t bear it any longer?”

With nearly closed eyes and bloom of arousal on her face she answered.

“Yes, they feel better than ever, the nipples seem to always tingle and throb.” And in a whisper added, “Not that Himself is bothered much anymore.”

“His loss then, I’d be bothered…If you want me to?”

She looked at me from half closed eyes and nodded, “I want,” tears slowly welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Talking almost to herself, added, “Oh how I want.”  I took that as a yes.

I stood and not wanting to advance like a comic book pervert with palms forward, fingers out stretched ready to grope, I came to her with hands by my sides.

“Turn around.” I asked

As I slid my palms forward just under her armpits, her arms raised slightly to allow me access, I felt the underarm hair, all very Gaelic Earth Mother and rubbed the edge of my hands back and forth through the slightly sweaty hair a few times. Not that I could smell or in fact need the stimulus of the Pheromones that were reputed to come from there. I moved my hands and arms forward to lightly hefted one luscious globe in each hand.

She moaned in pleasure as my thumb and two fingers massaged the thick brown rubbery nipples. I was now pressed right up close to her, I kissed the back of her neck all the time working the nipples. I could feel my hard dick pressing into her backside, I moved back slightly, she followed to keep the contact, I pushed into her arse, she pushed back. Still working her nipples and breasts, I started nuzzling gently behind her ear, she pushed back in time to my butterfly Kisses.

I moved my left hand from her breast and started to rub the vee of her crotch, her hand covered mine adding to the pressure. By now we were pushing each other backwards and forwards dick, arse, cunt, fingers and back again.

With my right hand I undid the side zip of the skirt. It fell round her ankles, she moved one foot, side stepping out, the other foot flicked it away as an unwanted distraction. Only a skimpy thong came between our hands and her obviously bald pussy. By now it was her hand more than mine in control as she directed our attention to the protruding thong covered clit.

I took back control, pulling the thong roughly aside, rubbing at the clit and wet lips, spreading the wetness over clit and bare mound. My hand grew wetter and wetter, I applied this juice to her tits in a circular rubbing motion that had her purring like a cat. She took my wet fingers lightly clasping them to her lips then with a sucking motion, into her mouth, caressing them with her eager tongue.

My hand left her breast, I raised it to her face and gently wiped away the few remaining teardrops. Then out of the blue she said.

“Will you fuck me”” she pleaded, “will you suck my tits while you fuck me, bite them as you fuck me, hurt me as I cum, fuck me and punish me.” All the Irish Catholic Guilt instilled by the Nuns was taking her over.

She edged us back a few small steps until my legs hit the couch and we both sat in a heap.

She stood up and turned around, standing between my legs she bent down to unfasten my trousers. I started on the shirt.

I raised my hips as she pulled of both trousers and boxers. My dick sprang to attention.

“Wank it for me, I love to see a man pull at his todger so I do, but slow mind, we’ve a long night ahead.” She was back in control…for now.

She went over to her carry-on bag bending over, which gave me an excellent view of puckered arsehole and pussy lips. I could see tiny viscous droplets of pussy nectar defying gravity as they clung to the crinkled lips. The perfect incentive to my slow, slow wanking, which I didn’t think I could keep up for long before I would want to speed up.

She thrust her arm in and came out with a bottle and showed it me.

“Jameson’s Caskmate from Flannery’s Bar Limerick, Michael Flannery sold it to me his self so he did.” She went to the table, looked at the wine glasses, shrugged, poured 2 large ones into them. Obviously not too much of a whiskey buff then. She took a swig from hers, savoured it, swallowed, topped it up and came over to kneel between my legs. She handed me a glass I took it with my free hand and took a drink. She took another large swig and put her glass down. Leaning forward with her fore arms across my legs she said.

“I’ve made decisions.” She said with a strange finality. Shit I thought, don’t say you’ve changed your mind. She saw the look on my face.

“No, you’re still going to do everything I said and more, but pleasure is better savoured, not rushed. You’re not in the habit of rushing are you?” eying my slow wanking.

“Not usually, no.” I managed to say


“As we’re taking our time savouring the forth coming attractions answer me this, why does the Brogue come and go?

“No fooling you she said, you know me, deep down I’m as Irish as Gods Pig, in the business world I tone it down. I only bring it out to make people under estimate me. But when I’m with family and friends I’m the same me I always was. When I get a bit nervous though, It’s all over the place like mad women’s shite.”

“Drink up, I think we’ve savoured enough.” she stood, held out her hand for my glass.

“While I top us up you can savour this.” she pulled the thong back over her wet pussy and using her hand rubbed and mashed it around her cunt. She then stood, stepped out of them and threw them onto my face.

“Savour those while I top us up, then I’ll attend to himself there.” looking at my dick.

Part of me want to sniff and lick and suck on the juicy cloth, I hesitated. She turned round form pouring the drinks.

“Don’t be shy, like you said, I won’t tell if you won’t…it’s good for you, like Guinness only better…You men are all secret knicker sniffers, so you are. Himself used to love it.” She added wistfully.

I held the thong to my face, breathing and tasting the juices and my other hand started to speed up the wanking. She pulled my hand from my face and my eyes flew open in surprise.

“That’s enough of that now, this needs a woman’s touch to slow you down a bit for the main event.” And she knelt back between my legs.

Taking my dick in one hand she licked the precum off and started a gentle mouth action on the bulging end. After a short while she stopped and said.

‘You’ve heard of Irish Coffee, well this is an Irish Blow Job.” taking a small mouthful of her drink, she went to work on my knob-end again, it was cold, then stinging, then warm. But it was much better than Coffee.

She bobbed and slurped while her other hand kneaded and tweaked on a breast and nipple. In the back of my mind I could hear us both making grunts of pleasure and both were getting quicker and louder.

Her mouth and hand increased speed on dick and nipple. My hips started to rise with the impending load of cum that was almost there. As I shot the first load into the back of her mouth, her hand left the nipple and went down to pressed hard in to the vee of her legs and her clit, she made tiny bucking movements against her own hand while swallowing my load of cum.

Her head let go my dick and sank with a sigh on to my lap as she slowly and repeatedly kissed the base of my shaft.

“Hold me.” Was all she said as the tears again started. I put my arms round her neck and the back of her head the best I could, holding her face into my lap, patting her head and making soothing sounds like she was a small child with a bruised knee or something.

After a while the tears stopped and the kisses increased, her hand went to my dick, but it was getting the good news all on its own, barely needing the helping hand.

She stood, picked up the two glasses, passed one to me and toasted us with a touch of glasses said

“Slainte na bfear agus go maire na mna go deo – Health to the men and may women live forever.”

“Cheers,” we both added as we drained our glasses.

“Fuck him.” Cryptically; then adding in a no nonsense way. ”let’s get down to business.”

My hands reached out for her, but she beat me to it taking my wrists, she placed her legs either side mine right up against the edge of the sofa. Still holding my wrists, she changed the grip to interlocked our fingers, raising them over my head, then fell slowly forward until our interlocked hands rested on the wall behind me.

Her wet gaping cunt lips were just brushing the top of my dick and her tits right in my face.

Still Intrigued about her cryptic comment I said, “fuck who?”

“Never mind fuck who, fuck me is all you have to worry about,” forestalling any further questions by leaning forward shoving a nipple into my mouth.

That worked; I sucked on one then the other sucking harder and harder, drawing more blood into it’s hard core. Pulling my hands free, leaving hers on the wall to take her weight, I pulled and kneaded both breasts, sucking and nipping on each nipple in turn, with a low growl her head went back, her spine arched to get closer to my mouth. Getting as much nipple, aureole and breast into my mouth as I could I sucked and sucked to engorge them even further. When both were a deep reddy brown and looking fit to burst, with my two hands to push them together, then using my tongue, gently teased and tickled the throbbing nipples faster and faster.

“Holy mother of God I’m cumming,” then as through gritted teeth, ”Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I can’t stand it, keep going.”

Her hips started to make thrusting motions of their own accord. Quickly she clambered on to the seat, put her right foot on the chair back behind my shoulder and mashed her pussy to my face. I just managed to get my tongue in as she thrust and pushed into my face grunting

“Ung, ung , ung, ung.” I could feel tiny squirts hit the back of my throat, I didn’t care what it was I just swallowed it- like I had a choice.

After a while she slowed, her leg came down off the chair back and she slid off my face sinking on to my lap. All the time smothering my face with kisses removing one wetness with another.

My turn now I though and grabbed her by the arse cheeks and lifted, her thighs flexed and those gym muscles easily took the load allowing herself to be guided wherever I wanted

She reached round grabbed my dick gave it a few tugs up and down, rubbed it along her wet parted lips then lowered herself onto it, halfway at first, then a little wriggle, thrusting herself hard down on to the hilt with a half painful cry.

I was about to speak, but she put a finger to my lips,

“Don’t worry It’s been a while but I’ll live with a little pain so I will.” And started rocking back and forth grinding her clit into me.

Remembering her wishes, I sucked and bit her by now pinky, red tender looking, swollen and sore nipples.

As her pussy loosened and lubricated its self to the full depth, she began to slide up and down slowly until I nearly popped out, then down again. Flexing those thighs, she raised herself up until just my cock head was inside and started with small jabbing movements, nearly out, jab down, just over the ridge of my knob end.

I grabbed my dick with one hand to give it support, while my other toyed with sensitive skin either side of the sweaty arse crack. Every so often I would ‘allow’ seemingly by ‘accident’ a finger to pop in her brown ring. Each time she squeaked, but didn’t complain, so on each down stroke I let it enter as far as it could to her timing.

With my hand supporting my cock she Increased the length and force of her strokes, her gaping twat would lift right off then plunge down until she hit my fist.

A couple of times she would miss her aim and her puckered hole would half surround and caress the first half inch of my knob, I would thrust up in hopeful expectation.

The next time this happened she didn’t pull away, she looked deep into my eyes whispering.

“I give you my virgin arsehole, fuck it, fuck me good, if I scream and fight against it don’t stop, hold me down, bite my tits and slap me as I cum, MAKE me cum.”

Crying out in her virgin pain, she thrust herself down a tight, hard, painful bit at a time. I was mesmerised lost in a world of her pain and pleasure.

A sharp slap to the side of my head startled me. “Bite me, make me, force me onto it,” with another slap to finish.

So that’s how it is eh, I thought, well so long as it’s me doing the slapping, what the hell.

I slapped the end of one tit and nipple then the other, fucking her arse at the same time, she sunk a little further deeper on my dick with a gasp of pain.

I slapped her face as hard as I dare, left, right.


Not wanting to leave mark I hit her quite hard upside the head, rattling her teeth, left, right.

As she smiled in feral joy, tears ran down her face, she gave a slight nod.

Crack, Crack, two more. I could stand it no longer, I was starting to cum myself. Fuck her and what she wants

I put an arm round her waist, put my hand under her chin with a tight grip on her neck and pushed her head back as far as it would go, her back arching to lessen the pressure. While I fucked her arse as hard and as deep as I could.

As I started spurting into her, I felt my hand on her neck tighten and tighten again in time with each flood of sperm, her screams of pain and pleasure strangled down to a gurgle as I added more pressure. She went red in the face gasping for breath struggling and trying to fight my hand, her fists flailing ineffectually at my arms, writhing and twitching about on my dick as she climaxed. Her bladder let go as my final spurt hit home. I let go of her neck and she collapsed on me hugging me while taking rasping breathe to force air into her lungs.

After a small while, with my dick still buried in her by now NOT virgin arsehole, we looked at each other. Nobody knowing what to say. She broke the ice.

“I thought I told you to bite my tits when I came, not feckin strangle me.”

I shrugged. “It seemed like a good Idea at the time, you did tell me to force you, not to stop if you struggled.”…I’m not really that big on guilt.

“So I did, but I enjoyed it, just before I came I nearly passed out…and yet I never felt more alive. But what sort of person does that make ME ? ”

Always one to revert to a joke in a tense moment, “It makes me shagged out. But apart from that, It makes us exactly what we are, no more no less…People, Human…It is what it is.” Like I said, I’m not big on guilt. “Jeez, you bloody women, always wanting to make things meaningful. We both said at the start…I won’t tell if you won’t. That still holds, what happens in Vegas etc.”

“I suppose you’re right.” she said and flexing those thighs, stood in a fluid motion, looked down at herself and me, noting our somewhat scatological state, stepped back off the couch and said.

”Shower then bed, we can clean each other up.” And walked off.

I tried for a little soapy shower action, but got knocked back, I admitted defeat and we went to our separate bed rooms.

Later that night I did get a visitor though, for a bog standard missionary fuck. It must’ve been by way of a ‘thank you and goodbye fuck’ because in the morning I woke to find the house empty and a note stuck under the half empty bottle of Michael Flannery’s finest.

‘I told you I’d made decisions; one was changing my flight. I got an earlier one. Thank you for everything. I now know what and who I am, and more to the point who I’m not. I’m Nula 3.0 now

I sent an email to herself explaining It was all my fault about the flights, I played the daft Irish women, so I did. I probably won’t see you again, unless herself makes the effort. So least said soonest mended.

You certainly know how to fuck an Irish Woman though so you do. Lol.’

Love Nula 3.0 XXX

I ripped that up smartish and threw it in the bin, for good measure I took out the plastic liner and put it in the wheelie bin outside. I don’t do guilt, but I’m pretty big on ‘need to know’ and this was one time when ‘no need to know’ was exactly what was needed.

That evening The Wife arrived back and we had a chuckle at Nula, the Date line, which she hadn’t actually crossed…the whole Irish-ness of it all.

To this day I don’t know where that slapping and strangling came from. Heat of the moment? I was only obeying orders? who the fuck knows…you had to be there I suppose. One night I tried it on ‘Herself’ and got fucked off good style.

I quite enjoy a good spanking and fingering, she said. But I’ll be buggered if I’ll let you strangle me… not one to mince her words is herself.



Sometime later, I forget exactly when, we heard Nula had left Ned, moved in to a fancy Viaduct Apartment. That surprised everyone, plenty of reasons were put forward, but the general consensus was, new job, new body, boob job, etc. she was too good for us now.

I made all the right tut, tut noises, but I knew all she’d really done was upgraded herself to Nula 4.0

© Copyright 2019 E.M. Ockleshaw. All rights reserved.

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