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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The first spurt of semen hit the glass panel of the shower screen, and dribbled down the glass, shortly followed by the second, third, and fourth, which pumped out over my fingers and thumb, to be washed away in the cascading water.

The noise of the shower masked the quiet grunt of satisfaction I uttered, from the previous few minutes of soaping my erect cock in the unfamiliar bathroom.

As my body relaxed from its release, I opened my eyes, and froze.

Looking through the streaky glass, out through the open door to the en suite, and then through the half open door of the bedroom, I saw the briefest of glimpses of Maisie, Carl and Wendy’s daughter, as she disappeared along the upstairs corridor.

“Shit,” was all I could say. She had obviously been watching me ‘wank.’

Rewind to the previous evening.

I had arrived in the late afternoon at Carl and Wendy’s, old friends of mine, who’d kindly offered to put me up for a couple of nights while I sorted some legal stuff concerning an uncle that had passed away.

Living up north, it had been a long four hour drive, and the evening meal, and copious amounts of wine had taken their toll, so I’d gone to bed before eleven. Carl and Wendy commuted into the city, and needed to catch quite an early train each day, so they had left early. They’d left me to sleep in, and get breakfast for myself.

Their daughter Maisie had been spending a few days of the summer vacation at a uni friend’s house, but unbeknown to me she had returned home, after her friend became sick. She’d arrived home late the night before, after I’d gone to bed. That morning I really thought I’d got the house to myself.

I really didn’t know what to do. What if she told Carl or Wendy, they would think I was some sort of perv.

Do I get dressed, and make some sort of apology? Heck, it was a disaster.

I had a meeting within the hour, so I got dressed, and Maisie was nowhere to be seen, I presumed she had returned to her bedroom, trying to clear her mind from what she’d seen. Anyway I was out for most of the day, but didn’t look forward to returning that evening.

I got back just as Wendy, home from work, was opening the front door to go in.

“A good day? Did you get some stuff sorted?” she asked.

As we stepped inside, Maisie was coming down the stairs.

“Hi darling,” said Wendy, “did you two meet up this morning?”

There was a slight pause, and I could feel myself reddening behind Wendy.

“No, mum, I heard Tom showering, but he was gone before I could see him. Hi Tom, nice to see you again, it’s been a few years.”

My sense of relief, was illegal bahis almost palpable, as I half smiled at Maisie.

“Yes, probably three years, and haven’t you grown.”

I suddenly thought that what I’d just said might sound ‘pervy’ again. But it was true that Maisie had grown. She’d become a delicious woman, curvy, full lipped, magnificent breasts, long blonde hair. I almost felt my cock leap, knowing that she’d been watching me wanking that morning.

I tried to avoid eye contact, but Maisie kept watching me all the way into the kitchen.

Wendy made some coffee, and I told her that I’d like to take them all out for a Chinese meal that evening, to say ‘thank you’ for accommodating me for the two days.

“That would be great, I’ll phone and book a table, Will you come Maisie?”

“No, I’ve got some stuff to do, if you don’t mind, you adults can relax, if I’m not there.” Maisie smiled, and looked at me.

And so the evening passed, good conversation, catching up, talking over old times. When we got back to the house there was whisky, and coffee, and more chat. Maisie didn’t appear, she was obviously chilling in her bedroom.

“Well, I’ve got to turn in,” Wendy finally said, and Carl agreed, “we’ll leave you to sleep in again Tom, I bet Maisie won’t surface until after you’ve gone out.”

“Thanks for everything you two, I’ll have left by the time you get home tomorrow, I really appreciate it.”

And so to bed.

I slept well, and I knew that I didn’t have my meeting that morning before ten thirty. I woke up after Carl and Wendy had left for the station, and feeling thirsty, wandered down to the kitchen. I was filling a glass at the sink, when I heard Maisie behind me.

“I thought you’d be having a wank!” Maisie’s voice carried a hint of disdain.

With a cough, I awkwardly replied, “Thank you for not saying anything, I felt really awful.”

“I thought you must have felt pretty good by the expression on your face.” Maisie chuckled loudly.

I took the glass of water, and sat on the breakfast bar stool, “I don’t think we should be having a conversation like this.”

I was concerned Maisie was teasing me, and dressed as she was in a skimpy t-shirt, just mid thigh, and her nipples pressing through the cotton, my pulse rate was quickening.

“How long have you been divorced?” Maisie was filling her glass at the sink.

“Five years, why?”

“Just interested, I knew it was a long time, when did you last have sex?”

“That’s quite a question Maisie! I can’t help feeling that this is a inappropriate conversation.”

“When?” she repeated.

I illegal bahis siteleri exhaled loudly, “Last year…November…I had a brief relationship for three weeks.”

“Fucking hell, that’s nine months ago, no wonder you wank. How old are you now?”

“I’m fifty three.”

“My god, you’re older than mum and dad. How old was the woman last November?”

“She was forty-one, look this conversation is like the third degree.”

“So what’s the youngest woman you’ve had sex with, since you were divorced?”

“Maisie! This is wrong, I shouldn’t be talking to you like this.”

Unfortunately sitting there in my pyjamas, my body was betraying me. In order to disguise what was happening, I placed one hand in my lap, covering the bump that was appearing.

“Ok, have you ever had someone really young?”

“Only when I was the same age!”

Maisie was now sitting on the stool next to me. I was trying desperately not to look at her bare thighs, her t-shirt was barely covering her pussy, her nipples were now clear under the cotton.

“Why are you holding your cock?”

Maisie now had a really mischievous smile.

“I’m not! Now stop this Maisie, you’re just trying to be provocative.”

“Yes you are holding it. Take your hand away, prove it.”

In an attempt to call her bluff, and to appear unruffled, I put both hands on the breakfast bar. It was pointless to have thought I could disguise it. My pyjamas had a distinct ‘tent,’ and I shifted uncomfortably on my stool.

“Oooooooh, you’ve got an erection, that’s so naughty.” Maisie was triumphant, almost as though she’d succeeded in her task.

“Let me see it, let me see it,” she was shouting out excitedly.

“That’s enough, Maisie, this has gone far enough.”

Clutching my stiff cock in my pyjamas, I stood up, and awkwardly waddled out of the kitchen, accompanied by Maisie’s laughter, and her cries of, “Chicken,” and, “Spoilsport.”

Upstairs I tried to gather my thoughts. Maisie had aroused me, and was temptation itself. In a way, I was proud of myself for resisting that temptation. I was almost thinking of taking a cold shower!

I needed to get dressed, and sort myself out, ready for my meetings. As I stripped off my pyjamas, I examined my semi erect cock in the wall mirror, and held it for a moment, feeling quite horny.

“I bet you’re wanking again!”

Maisie’s voice outside the bedroom door laughed sarcastically.

I didn’t reply, but just said, “Huh! funny!”

“You are!” came the response, but this time it was inside the room. Maisie was leaning against the open doorway, completely naked.

In canlı bahis siteleri a second I took in her wonderful body, her breasts, her shaved pussy, her perfectly formed thighs.

“Maisie! please go back to your room, I’m serious now, what the hell would your mum and dad say?”

When you’re standing naked in the middle of a room with your cock stiff and upright, you do not have a lot of gravitas.

I watched, as Maisie, who knew I had no more willpower, walked towards me, and fell to her knees, and took my cock into her mouth.

“Oh god, you little minx,”

“Mmmmmmm, that’s quite a cock,” Maisie pressed my cock, until it was at the back of her mouth. She took it in and out, coating it in her saliva, while I was groaning, and watching our reflection in the wall mirror

It was evident that Maisie was quite experienced at blow jobs, but I was unprepared for what happened next. As she pressed my cock against the roof of her mouth, she pressed further and further, and I felt myself taken tightly into her throat, until her nose was rubbing my lower abdomen.

A sudden gasp, catching her breath, great slavers of saliva dripping from her mouth, she did that three more times.

“Fucking hell, Maisie, you must stop.”

Maisie stood up, and pushed me backwards to the bed.

“I’ve no intention of stopping.”

On my back on the bed, Maisie mounted me, legs astride my hips, and my cock sank deep into her cunt.

“Wow Tom, that feels sooo good, just hold it there.”

I was gritting my teeth, but watching Maisie above me was such an erotic image, I was losing control. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, her tongue flicking over her lips, and rising and falling on my cock.

But it was a losing battle for me. “Maisie you’re going to make me cum, I can’t hold on very long.”

“Go on, cum inside me, it’s ok, fill me up.”

When I started, Maisie’s tight pussy seemed to grip me, milk me, and my cock was pumping, burst after burst, of spunk inside her. As I finished, Maisie leaned forward, sliding off my cock, and then sat up straight, astride my abdomen.

With one hand massaging her breasts, and pinching her nipples, her other hand was rubbing her clit. I was a spectator as she became more and more aroused, and her body was starting to approach orgasm. Maisie’s pussy had oozed all of my semen out onto my stomach and her thighs were glazed with more of it.

Her whole body shivered, her breasts trembled, and her fingers finally brought her to the end.

Maisie didn’t cry out, but in a quiet, low growl said, “Oh fuck, oh fuck Tom, oh fuck, that was…mmmmmmmm.”

Both of us just looked at each other for a minute.

“Bad idea,” I said.

“I disagree, good idea,” said Maisie, “and now you’d better get showered.”

We both accepted what had happened, it was our secret, and she was my weakness.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“You’ll never believe this,” Ryan nearly screamed as he entered the apartment.

“Dada!” RJ screamed hearing the sound of his father’s voice.

From the floor where I was playing with RJ, I reflexively matched Ryan’s excited tone. “What happened?”

“They want me to take over the department!”

“That’s great!”

“No, what’s great is that other job I interviewed for offered me the position. They want me to lead a department at a new office they’re opening. It’s more money but it’s in another state. And, they’ll pay to move us and everything.”

“Wow.”

“Hey.” Hearing my now less than enthusiastic tone, he sat on the floor next to me and pulled RJ, who was bouncing excitedly for his father, into his lap and gave him a kiss on the head. “We don’t have to move. I can stay here and take the promotion.”

“Take the new job,” I said immediately.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s just a lot to take in. Moving would be good for you and us. As much as I love being here with our friends and family, we’re hiding. We can’t live our lives openly. You’re not just my brother, you’re the father of my child and, hopefully, many more to come. I love you, Ryan, and wish everyone knew that.”

After leaning toward me to give me a kiss, he stood while still holding RJ. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing?” I was slightly annoyed that he had suddenly remembered something else he had to do during this serious, life-changing conversation.

“Hold on,” he yelled back from our room.

I rolled my eyes and sighed hearing him sound just as annoyed. I loved Ryan deeply, but he was still my brother.

When he returned, he tossed a small box into my lap before sitting across from me again. As I opened it, he said, “I’ve been waiting for a good time to give you that, but I guess now is as good as any. I love you, Rachel. I love RJ and I want us to be the family everyone says we shouldn’t be. I can’t ask you to marry me, but I can ask you to be my wife. What do you think?”

I didn’t say anything for a few moments. I couldn’t say anything. My eyes, my thoughts were all focused on the small gold band that held a tiny diamond on the top. It wasn’t fancy or flashy and would never cause other women to look on with jealousy. It was a simple design and, honestly, not very pretty. But it was also the one thing that Ryan had given me that possibly meant more to me than RJ. That’s not to say that I valued jewelry over my son. It was the sentiment, the meaning behind the ring that meant so much. Ryan’s words, like the ring, might not have been the most elegant or even slightly romantic, but they were honest. They were his. And I knew for the little that he’d said, he felt so much more. A powerful symbol of everything we felt for each other, the ring was something I didn’t know that I wanted but now that he had presented it, I ached with the need to wear it.

“Rach?” I heard Ryan call to me softly after an unknown amount of time.

“Huh?”

“I know we’re anything but traditional and normal, but it’s polite to answer a question when asked. Even if it’s no.”

I looked up to him and blinked a few times trying to hold back tears. In front of me holding RJ was no longer my brother, Ryan. Seated there was Ryan, the father of my child. He was my mate, my partner. We could no longer pretend otherwise. Yes, we had a blood bond as siblings but we’d never been simply brother and sister. We were joined by something so much more than genetics. As Rene had told us once, we’d always had a special bond, something that we felt for each other even when we were kids. And while I could have gone my entire life without the ring, I understood that he was giving it to me as validation and assurance that what we had was real.

With the tears flowing down my cheeks and soft sobs coming intermittently, I nodded.

“Then, I guess I should put this on you.” He took the ring from me then grabbed my hand and pushed it onto my finger. I was shaking so hard from emotion that even in his strong grasp, he had a hard time aiming for my finger. “Calm down. Geez. If I’d known you were going to be like this, I would’ve just tossed it to you with a note and told you to do it yourself.”

I couldn’t help laughing through my tears. No matter what, canlı bahis Ryan was still Ryan.

“I love you, Rachel. And just so you don’t think this is a one-sided, old-fashioned deal, this is for me.”

I watched as he pulled a matching, plain ring out of his pocket. He began to slip it on but I grabbed it from him. “No. Let me.”

He allowed me to take his large hand into my smaller, still unsteady one and slide the ring onto his finger. With shaky breath, I teased, “Now maybe that’ll stop all those women from flirting with you.”

“It won’t,” Ryan responded with wetness in his eyes. “I’m a catch.”

“Yeah, you are.”

I leaned forward and met his kiss. It was deep and passionate but lacked erotic intent. Even though we’d been siblings, we were now a family, which RJ reminded us of when he began to whine and make noise between us from being neglected.

“Okay, Little Man,” Ryan said with a chuckle. “You’re right. Your mom and I can do that later. Time for us to hang out.”

With a smile on my face, I watched my husband, Ryan, play with our son. Indeed, Ryan was a catch and I was happy that I had landed him. Even though I’d never doubted his intentions, I knew now that this was real and let the waves of happiness wash over me.

—

“Ride me, baby.”

I pulled my mouth off Ryan’s cock and straddled his body. Teasing him, I slid my wet folds back and forth against his hardness a few times feeling it get slicker as my juices mixed with my leftover spit and his precum.

“Come on, Rach.” He grabbed my hips and thrust up hard against me but didn’t make a move to enter me.

Matching his thrusts, I humped back against him as I leaned down and kissed him. My body was on fire and I wanted him, but knew I wouldn’t be the one satisfied tonight.

I slid up his body, feeling his thick crown glide passed my folds, then reached behind me to grasp the base and raise it off his body. Feeling the wet tip move between my ass cheeks, I aimed it for my puckered opening and pushed back onto it.

“Rach?” Ryan sounded almost panicked as I let out a pained sound. There was a concerned look in his eyes and his body stopped moving but he made no move to stop me as his crown began to spread my ass open for the first time. “What are you doing?”

Between pants for air that I hoped would steady me and give me strength against the searing pain I felt, I said, “I would think that’s obvious.”

“But why? I’ve never asked—”

“No, you haven’t.” I let out a heavy breath feeling his crown pass my sphincter but felt no relief. My task was not yet finished and the pain was already verging on too intense. “And I don’t think you ever would. You’re not that kind of guy.”

“I am. Or I was.” His voice was remorseful and tight from his restrained arousal. Still in my grasp, I could feel his cock flexing rapidly, evidence of the erotic energy he was trying to hide as I began to slide down his thick length. “I’m not proud of the way I used to treat girls, but it felt good.”

When I spoke, my voice was tight from the pain and I hoped my words would distract me from it. “I’m not concerned about that and it has nothing to do with us. You’ve never been anything but good to me. Occasionally a horrible brother, and frequently dirty and perverted, but a gentleman, nonetheless. I wanted to do this. I figured after I’ve given birth and am out of commission, I’ll be used to it and you won’t have to settle for blowjobs and hand jobs until—”

“Wait. After you’ve given birth?”

As I rested my ass against his hips, with his cock finally buried in my ass, I nodded.

“You’re pregnant?”

I nodded again.

“Oh, my—Rachel! Why didn’t you tell me?”

I gave him a shit-eating grin. “I just did.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I just found out at my follow-up.”

“But I thought you hadn’t had your period yet.”

“Apparently, we’ve been doing it so much that when I started ovulating, you fertilized it and I never had a chance.” I felt his cock jerk in me, reminding me of its presence.

“Awesome.”

“So you’re okay with it?” I asked needlessly.

“Hell, yeah, I’m okay with it. I’m better than okay.” Ryan gripped my hips and held me steady as he slowly pulled most of his length bahis siteleri out of my ass before pushing it back in. “If it means I get your ass, regularly, then there might be something to that whole barefoot and pregnant thing.”

I knew he was joking but I still smacked his chest. “I’m probably going to regret this, but you can have my ass without me being pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah. You are going to regret that.” After a silent moment during which he continued to move his length out then back in, he asked, “You okay? How does it feel?”

Even though I’d been working my ass in secret for a few days preparing for this, much like the night he’d taken my virginity, Ryan’s dick spread open my ass beyond what I thought possible. I could feel his crown as it moved deep inside me like it was rearranging my innards. Somehow, it felt further inside my body than when he was in my pussy but I knew that was not reality. Most of the initial pain had subsided as expected, but I had not expected the raw sensation that continued against my ring. Still, my answer was honest when I said, “Not bad. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to, but I don’t hate it.”

Ryan moaned and pushed all the way into me, driving his hips upward off the mattress and supporting my weight. “Fuck, Rach. If I had known you’d be okay with this, I would’ve asked. Fuck me, I would’ve asked.”

I felt him move his large hands over my ass, kneading the flesh as he lowered his hips and resumed his slow thrusting. Gradually, one of his hands moved closer to my crack and I felt his middle finger begin to trace a semicircle around the top half of my hole where his dick entered me as if that gave him the proof that he was indeed in my ass. Knowing how much he liked it when I rode him, I leaned forward to kiss him and took over again. He moaned as I began rolling my hips slightly faster on his length and I was slightly surprised by how I was already beginning to enjoy it.

A surprised squeal left me when he slapped my ass. It wasn’t exceptionally hard, but it definitely got my attention.

“Ride me, Rach. Fuck. You put my cock in your ass, so ride it.”

His voice had gone to a place that I hadn’t heard in a while. It was deep and authoritative, and combined with the look in his eyes, I shivered slightly in response remembering both from our early sex encounters when he had been driven by pure lust. Meeting this side of him again should have been frightening or disconcerting at the least, but it wasn’t. With the ring on my finger barely a week old, it just served to remind me of where we started and where we were now.

Obeying his command, that of my husband’s, I sat up and rolled my hips against him with purpose. The friction of his length still burned against my ring but driven by his desire for me, I ignored it to give him the pleasure he wanted.

Putting his hands behind his head to watch me, he began to utter short orders and fuck words. “Squeeze your ass. Fuck, yeah. All the way down. All the way. Sit on my dick and bounce on that shit. That’s it. Oh, yeah. Squeeze it. Tighten that fucking ass. Ride me. Come on, babe. Faster. Faster. Ride that shit like you mean it. You sat on my cock so show me what you want to do with it. Make me come, Rach. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come in your ass.”

It took less time than I expected for him to unload into me. The feeling was amazing and much different than I expected. And from the way he moaned and shuddered, there was no question he was satisfied.

Knowing Ryan and his libido, I was not surprised when he woke me the following morning by pushing his dick into my ass, using only his own spit for lube. Spooned behind me, he moved quickly and with determination to sheathe himself within my passage. Because RJ and Gary were still asleep, I could only let out whimpers of sound in the face of the pain I felt. My ass was still raw from the night before and the lack of preparation combined with the sneak attack made the pain that much worse.

Unconcerned with my discomfort, Ryan took his time sliding his length through me with sleepy strokes. He slid one arm slid under my neck and around my body to hold me in place and I was surprised when, unlike the night before, he reached the other hand around me and began to play with my pussy bahis şirketleri and clit. His fingers pulled at and smacked my sensitive folds, saying more than words that he was in a primal, instinctual place that had nothing to do with love or romance. We’d given ourselves to each other multiple times and in many different ways, but he was now taking possession of me, owning me for the first time.

Rolling us onto my stomach he drove his length deep into me a few times driven by his bodyweight before pulling me to all fours. When he began to move faster inside me, I knew there was no question this fuck was for him. He was rough and did none of the things I was accustomed to him doing for my pleasure.

As I whimpered beneath him feeling his breath come heavy and steady across my neck, I realized he had yet to give me even a perfunctory good morning kiss. Instead, he leaned over me and rested more weight on me than usual when fucking me from behind, and at random points bit down on the sensitive flesh next to his mouth. Like a man possessed, he let out intermittent soft grunts as he gnawed at my neck and shoulder, never giving me a sign of affection other than the fact that he was there. At the same time, it felt like he was going to tear my pussy open the way he tugged at it and rapidly thrust his fingers into me. Shoving the long, thick digits all the way into me as if trying to fist me, he pressed his fingers against the wet wall inside that separated my fuck passages so he could feel himself fucking my ass. That seemed to spur him on and soon he grunted and gave me a few short, sharp thrusts as he began to come in my ass.

Once finished and satisfied, he pulled out of me and stumbled into the bathroom, never having uttered a word. I heard the shower start as I flattened myself out on my stomach feeling used and degraded in a way I never expected. Especially not from him. However, I didn’t hate it. There was something freeing about what had happened and, though I had not come, I felt a pleasure knowing that Ryan was satisfied.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, completely naked but dry, he met my eyes without remorse and I felt myself shrink slightly in response. There was a darkness to his gaze that I’d never seen before and while a part of me was a little frightened by it, I didn’t fear it and I didn’t look away as he stalked toward me.

I’d known and acknowledged many times that he was a man—the long, hard lines of his body and the soft flesh swinging between his legs were proof of that—and not the brother that I’d grown up with, but this was a side of him that I’d never experienced. Once at my bedside, he kneeled down next to where I lay then leaned over me and gave me a deep, possessive kiss.

“I love you so fucking much, Rachel.” His voice was soft but there was a dark edge in his tone that matched the lingering hard look on his face. “I know I should feel bad about fucking you like that but I don’t. Not one fucking bit. I will worship your pussy, protect you, respect you as the mother of my child—my children—and treat you like the goddess you are ninety-nine percent of the time. But if you’re giving me your ass, I’m going to take it. I’m going to take it and fuck it. I’m going to own that shit and use it whenever I want. When I fuck your ass, I’m going treat you like a bitch. Like a whore. Because good girls don’t do anal. That’s why I never asked. But I see now that you’re not a good girl. Good girls don’t fall in love with their brother. You’re not the girl that I watched grow up. You’re not my little sister. You’re a woman. You’re my wife. And you deserve for me to be honest about the man that I am. I shouldn’t hide who I am from you. I’m not going to start hooking up with other girls or doing the stuff that I used to do, that’s not who I am now. I’m your husband, your man, always and forever. But sometimes I just want to fuck. I want it dirty and rough and I don’t care if you come or not. If you’re giving me your ass, I’m going to shove my dick in it and fuck it whenever and however I want. That’s what I do with asses. Your pussy is yours and you control that and while I may beg for it occasionally, I have no right to it. But if you give your ass to me, I will own that shit forever.”

Even though he was serious, I couldn’t help smiling. While his words were direct and disturbing, it was something my brother would never have said, but I was not surprised to hear it from my husband. “I think I can handle that.”

“I know you can.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Disclaimer: this story involves cuckolding, humiliation, cross-dressing, and gay incest.

***

I have to admit, it was difficult to contain my excitement as Jenny invited my dad and brother over to show them what a little sissy slut I’d become.

To prepare, Jenny let me try on the outfit she’d had on when we’d come over to Andrew’s house: a pink, tight-fitting, girl’s t-shirt that stopped above my belly-button, and a pair of white shorts that I could barely squeeze into. I looked like a cheap boyslut selling himself on the street.

Once I had changed into the appropriate sissy-boy outfit, Jenny, Andrew, Kevin, Steve, and myself relaxed while we waited for my brother and dad to arrive, watching TV. Jenny – wearing nothing but her panties (since I was wearing most of her other clothes) – snuggled up between Kevin and Steve. Andrew, shirtless in just a pair of boxers, let me cuddle up against him. His strong arm groped my ass as I rested my head against his muscular chest.

This is what my dad and brother walked in on: my girlfriend snuggling up against two shirtless jocks, and me, dressed in her skimpy clothes, cuddled against another shirtless jock whose hand was squeezing my tight ass.

“What…the fuck,” was all my dad could say. I was a little nervous – my dad had never been the most open-minded guy, always being super-masculine.

“Um…hi, daddy,” I said softly, biting my lower lip. I knew this was going to end up either with my dad kicking my ass or fucking it, so I tried to be as sexy as possible. I rubbed up and down Andrew’s toned body with my hand and pushed my ass out a little.

My dad looked me up and down. I could see my brother already rubbing his crotch – I knew he would be into this based on how he made me suck his cock earlier. “So let me get this straight,” my dad said firmly. “My son is not only a pathetic cuck, he’s a little sissy faggot.”

I didn’t know what to say, but fortunately Andrew chimed in: “A sissy faggot with the tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

My brother let out a little groan. “Damn,” he said. “You popped his cherry?”

“Sure did,” Andrew said, squeezing my ass. “He’s full of my load right now. Hope you don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

My brother laughed. “Nah, bro, thanks for lubing him up for me. As long as that pussy’s still tight, I don’t care,” he said. He looked over at my dad, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me. “What do you say, Dad?”

“Stand up,” my dad ordered me gruffly.

I did as he said, stepping in front of him. My dad towered over my slim, short frame. I noticed his bulge growing in his jeans. Encouraged, I looked up at him and smiled seductively. “Wanna see what I learned today, Daddy?” I asked.

My dad scoffed at me with a mixture of disgust and arousal. “You look like a fucking whore,” he said, sounding angry but at the same time putting a hand on my bare waist and turning me around to check out my ass.

I turned around completely for him, arched my back, and wiggled my butt. Looking back at him, I said, “Then I guess you should treat me like a fucking whore.”

“Fuck,” said my brother. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and started unbuttoning his jeans. “I don’t know about you, Dad, but I’m giving this slut what he needs. Get on your knees faggot.”

I quickly dropped to my knees in front of my brother as he took his hard cock out. Staring at my dad, I took the tip of my brother’s dick in my mouth and started licking and sucking at it like a pro.

As my brother moaned and pushed the back of my head further down his cock, my dad still looked uncertain. That’s when Jenny got off the couch and walked over to him, in only her panties. She rubbed her hands up and down his chest, then started unbuttoning his shirt to illegal bahis reveal his bare, hairy, muscular chest. “Mmmmm, I’ve been missing you,” she told him. He smiled down at her, wrapping his hands around her waist, then grabbing her ass firmly. She pulled his shirt off of him, then unbuttoned his pants. He stood before her in just his boxers now, which were tented from the largest cock of any of the guys in the room. She dropped to her knees and pulled his boxers down, cock popping into her face, oozing with precum.

Now my girlfriend and I were both sucking cocks, as the other guys watched and lightly fondled themselves. I looked up at my brother, sliding my hands up his smooth, toned body as I kept sucking. Then I looked over at my dad’s hairy, muscular physique. I wanted nothing more than to feel his monster cock slamming into my tight hole. I was so thankful to Jenny for getting him ready for me.

“How’s that little boyslut doing over there?” my dad asked Jeff.

“Fuck, he’s a natural,” Jeff said. “Watch this.” He gripped my hair firmly with one hand, holding my head in place, then started fucking my face rapidly, his balls slapping my chin. I felt myself gagging on his cock but he kept going anyway. “That’s it, fucking bitch, take that fucking cock,” he groaned.

Finally, he released me and I fell back, coughing and catching my breath. I just looked up at him, smiled, and said, “Thank you for fucking my face like a real man, big brother.”

“Goddamn,” my dad said as Jenny continued sucking him off.

She pulled her mouth off his dick and looked up at him. “Wanna see what he can do for yourself?” she asked.

He could only nod. My brother looked at him and smiled. “All yours, Dad,” he said, then he looked down at me. “I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend while you suck off Dad, okay, Beta?”

“Yes, sir,” I said obediently.

My dad sat down in a chair next to him, then motioned with one finger for me to come to him. Eagerly, I crawled between his legs, reached up, and took his massive dick in my small hand. “Wait,” he said firmly. I looked up at him. “Sniff my balls,” he ordered.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. I brought my nose to his hairy balls and inhaled his sweaty, masculine scent. I felt my hard cock oozing precum at this humiliation.

Meanwhile, Jeff had stripped off Jenny’s panties and bra and gotten her on all fours on the floor. He slid his cock, wet from my spit, into her pussy from behind. They both let out a moan as he began fucking her.

“I need one of your dicks in my mouth,” Jenny told the other guys. They all looked at each other and grinned, then Kevin got up and started feeding her his cock.

Jenny’s panties had landed on the floor next to me. As I kept sniffing my dad’s crotch, he said to me, “Get those sluttly clothes off and put your girlfriend’s panties on.”

He clearly enjoyed demeaning and humiliating me, and I loved it. I stood in front of him, slid my shirt off, and wiggled out of my shorts. I picked up Jenny’s pink, lacy panties and slid them on, my hard cock poking out of them.

“You like being a good girl for me?” my dad asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said.

“I always wanted a sexy daughter I could fuck,” he said gruffly.

“Here I am,” I said, turning around and shaking my ass at him. He reached up and spanked me, and I let out a sexy moan.

“Get on your hands and knees and start sucking,” he ordered. I immediately complied, savoring the taste of his precum before I started bobbing my head up and down, trying to deepthroat him but only getting my head about halfway down his cock. He looked over at Andrew and Steve. “I don’t think this slut’s pussy is ready to handle my cock yet, why don’t one of you loosen him up?”

Andrew grinned at Steve. “I already illegal bahis siteleri dropped my load in him, it’s your turn.”

Steve happily complied, walking over and kneeling behind me. He spat on his hand, but he didn’t need much, as my ass was already lubed up with Andrew’s cum. He was not gentle, quickly slamming his cock all the way into me after pulling my panties to the side.

“Fuck!” I cried out in pain after releasing my dad’s cock from my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up and let him use you, slut,” my dad ordered, grabbing the back of my head and pushing me back onto his cock. He forced my head all the way down. I felt his cock sliding down my throat until my nose was pressed against his pubes. I couldn’t breathe and my eyes were tearing up, but I was proud that I was able to deepthroat him. My hole was crying out in pain, but Steve kept pounding away until I had adjusted. He was doing me a favor anyway, I thought, since I was going to need to be able to take my dad’s cock soon enough.

“That’s it, deepthroat your dad, fucking faggot,” Steve said, slapping my ass.

I could only moan, as my dad was still pressing my head down. He finally released me and I brought my head up to catch my breath. Moaning, I quickly started sucking again, loving the feeling of his rock-hard dick in my mouth.

“Pound him good,” my dad told Steve. “Show him how whores like him deserve to get used.”

“Oh fuck,” Steve groaned. He gripped my ass firmly, so hard that I knew it was going to bruise, then slammed in and out of me as fast as he could. “Fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna paint your slut son’s fucking insides, fuuuuuuck!” He slammed into me one more time and I felt his cock pulsing.

I heard Jeff laughing. “Goddamn, Steve, you barely lasted five minutes.”

Steve laughed, slapping my ass as he pulled out. “What can I say, this slut is fucking tight.”

“Fuck, I gotta give it a go,” Jeff said, pulling out of Jenny. “Take over for me, bro,” he said to Kevin, who quickly picked Jenny up and tossed her on the couch next to Andrew, spreading her legs and sliding his cock in as she moaned.

“Ready to get fucked by your big bro?” Jeff asked me, pressing the head of his cock against my hole as Steve’s cum leaked out of it.

I pulled my dad’s cock out of my mouth and moaned, “Ohhhh, fuck yes, sir, add your load and get that tight hole ready for Dad’s dick.”

“Nnnghh, you got it, Beta,” Jeff groaned, and slid his cock right into me.

I tongued the head of my dad’s cock and looked up at him. “You like seeing your sons fucking, Daddy?” I asked.

My dad let out a little groan. “He seems to be enjoying your boypussy.”

“Fuck, it feels so good, Dad,” Jeff said, thrusting in and out of me.

“Fuck him good, son,” my dad said. “Show your little brother what a real man feels like.”

“Aw, fuck yeah, Dad, I’m gonna pound this little beta slut like the fucking bitch he is,” Jeff said, slapping my ass.

“You like getting deep dicked by all these real men, don’t you?” my dad asked me.

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” I moaned. “I love getting passed around and used.”

As I tongued the head of his cock, he looked over at Jenny, who was still getting fucked by Kevin while Andrew stroked himself and squeezed her tits. He looked back to my brother. “Bring this slut to the couch, I wanna fuck his girlfriend while you fuck him.”

“Fuck, good idea, Dad,” Jeff said. He pulled out of me and I whimpered at how empty my hole felt.

My dad stood up and walked next to Kevin. “Drop your load in this slut and step aside,” he told Kevin.

Kevin laughed and said, “You got it.” He had Jenny on her back on the couch with her legs spread. He gripped her ankles and started pounding away.

“Ohhhhh, canlı bahis siteleri fuck yes, Kevin, fuck meeeeee, give me your load!” Jenny moaned. Andrew, sitting next her, leaned over and sucked on her tits as she was fucked.

“Nnnnnnngggghhhh!” Kevin groaned. I stared at his cock pulsing into her pussy, remembering how I had pathetically driven Kevin and Jenny home while he fingered her pussy in the backseat.

After he finished, he stepped aside for my dad. Meanwhile, Andrew moved down on the couch to make room for me. He sat at the end and watched as Jenny and I got on our knees on the couch and presented our asses to my brother and dad. My brother quickly shoved his cock back in me while my dad began fucking Jenny’s pussy. They looked so strong and powerful with two sluts bending over in front of them.

I looked over at Jenny. She was moaning like crazy. “Oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so big,” she cried.

“Mmm, yeah, you like that big dick?” my dad asked, squeezing her ass.

“Ohhh, fuck yesss,” Jenny moaned. “I don’t know if your son’s gonna be able to handle it!”

My dad laughed. “I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “If he’s gonna dress up like a little girl slut, he’s gonna take my cock whether he likes it or not.”

I felt a pang of nervousness, but let out a moan. I felt Jeff give my ass a squeeze as his thrusts intensified. “Fuuuuck, you ready for another load, Beta?” he groaned.

“Fuck yes, big bro, fill me up good,” I moaned.

He slammed into me and I felt the familiar pulsing of a cock dropping its load.

After he pulled out, I kept my ass in the air and wiggled it seductively for my dad. He continued fucking Jenny, looking over at me and saying, “I’m gonna make your little girlfriend cum before I get to you.”

He bent down, engulfing Jenny’s small frame, wrapping his arms around her to squeeze her tits, and pounded her pussy intensely. Her moans became screams of pleasure like I’d never heard from her. “Oh god oh god oh god yes yes yesyesyesyesssssssssssssss!” Her body shivered under his weight and she collapsed into the couch from the intensity of her orgasm.

My dad pulled out of her, slapped her ass, and said, “Fuck yeah.” Then he quickly moved over and pressed his massive cockhead against my hole.

“Ohhh, be gentle, Daddy,” I begged him, a little scared.

“Fuck that,” he said and slammed himself into me all at once.

“FUUUUCK!” I cried, my ass screaming out in pain. “Stop, stop, it hurts!”

My dad just shoved my face into the couch, pulled out the full length of his cock, and slammed it back in. I could only groan in pain into the couch. “This is what little pussy boys deserve,” he groaned, holding the back of my head and beginning to fuck me roughly.

I felt my hole stretching from his thick cock, and eventually the pain subsided and I started to moan in pleasure. He released my head and I moaned, “Ohhhhh, yessssss, fuuuuuck you feel good, Daddy, thank you for making me your bitch, fuck me harderrrrrr!”

My dad laughed and slapped my ass. The other guys hooted and clapped at my dad’s performance. “You better like it, because this is how you’re getting used the rest of the summer, fucking whore.”

“Yessssss, Daddy, fuck me whenever you want!” I cried. I felt my cock rubbing against my panties. “Keep going, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cummmmmmm!!”

I shot my load into my panties and onto the couch. “That’s it, shoot your load from that worthless cock,” my dad taunted. “Here comes Daddy’s load in your ass.” And with that he gripped my butt firmly and pumped the biggest load of the day into me. We all collapsed and lay down, exhausted.

The rest of the summer went about how you would expect. Jenny and I were routinely passed around among my brother and dad and her friends. My dad also started inviting his work buddies over to fuck me and her as well. I learned how to be an obedient cockslut, which served me well when I went to college and got used by all the frats and the football team.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

As one grows older, selected memories tend to focus on those of the most pleasant type, and I now only look back at events that supply nice feelings. I recall many occasions beginning in childhood through those high testosterone years to one’s working life, marriage and family and on to pending retirement. The memories sharpen with additional detail each time one is chosen for review.

This story describes the time of my first real love interest that included thoughts of marriage to a beautiful young woman. The marriage did not come to fruition and in fact the romance was quite short lived, but it did produce some extremely hot illicit sex, just not with my paramour. The event is burned into my mind and has grown hotter each time I select it from its memory box!

I had graduated from college with a degree in Civil Engineering and had been around heavy construction since childhood as my father and older brothers were all involved in road building and earth moving. I had worked summer jobs in the field since my mid teens and could operate heavy equipment and understood the ins and outs of the business by the time that I finished my college days.

My first full time job was as a Government Engineer in an old farming area recently exploding with oil and gas exploration. My work was one of organizing and monitoring private contractors working on government projects. My daily schedule involved a lot of driving as my area of responsibility covered about a 200-mile radius.

I knew very few people during the first few weeks in my new position but I made an attempt to meet more as the fall faded into winter. I joined a group of local hockey enthusiasts who organized and played “Beer League” hockey a few nights a week. I had once been a reasonably skilled hockey player and was comfortable putting on the skates and pads once more.

The league was made up of men aging from 20 to 55 years. It was a no contact league as all of us were working men and not covered by insurance other than what was government provided. In other words, a broken leg off the job meant no work or pay to many of us. However, hockey is hockey and twelve men crashing around at speed in a restricted area tends to make for an occasional collision and confrontation.

During my very first game a guy about my age and whom I knew from work threatened to throw a few punches at one of the older guys. The older guy in question, named Larry, was one of those pests whose game is to yap at and provoke their opponents. Most players tend to ignore these obvious attempts to get you off your game. At any rate, I stepped in and pulled my young friend from the melee and barked at him to cool down. An aggressor in a fight could be banned from playing for several weeks or forever.

We all met at a local pub following the game. I was sitting with the aggressor and a few others chatting and drinking when a round of beer arrived, the waiter telling us it was from Larry. We looked across the room where Larry sat with a big grin on his face, toasting our table with a mug of beer in his hand. One of the local guys at our table then told us that my friend was lucky that he had not landed a punch on Larry, as he would have received at least 35 in return. Apparently Larry was a noted scrapper.

Larry was one of the Captains in the league and he began to choose me for his team each game and we became pretty good friends. He invited me to his lakeside cottage for weekends of Snowmobiling and ice fishing. It certainly helped to fill in the long cold winter months that coincided with a lower workload as most projects were held off until breakup. When spring arose and the ice melted, Larry’s family started coming to the cottage and I got to meet his three gorgeous daughters and spectacular wife.

Larry’s daughters were separated in age by about a year with the oldest gal Alexa, the most beautiful at 21 years. She was tall and blond and carried herself like a model although she was a little too voluptuous for that. She was the town beauty and had been so since high school.

Her sisters were also very attractive and like Alexa, seemingly unaffected by their beauty. They were all an obvious product of their mother and her stamp on them was apparent when you saw them all together. Betty was gorgeous in appearance and personality.

At any rate, I became a regular weekend guest at their cottage. Larry was a very generous man and there were always others enjoying his food and drink, mostly from the group of fellow cottagers located in the same cove off of a large lake. The cottage was party central on weekends.

One other regular besides myself was Betty’s best friend Leaha a vivacious and flirty older woman, a polar opposite of her friend, being loud and suggestive especially after a few drinks. Her husband was a kind of dry and reclusive individual who seldom showed up on weekends.

I had always been a wallflower in mixed company and incapable of thrusting myself at a desirable female illegal bahis despite a burning wish to do so. My only successful forays into full sex to that point had been with gals a few years older than I who apparently took my shyness as a turn on, thank God.

Alexa showed interest in me and took the first step by hinting that she was curious about a new movie then playing in a local theatre. I boldly asked her if she would join me for dinner and movie the next week. She squeezed my arm against her breast and said, “I’d love to.” I could have expected her to say ‘I thought you’d never ask’, but she didn’t.

I was really charged up, landing a date with the town beauty had been beyond my expectation.

The town was relatively small and everything was close by. My only mode of transportation was a dusty pick-up truck so I was pleased when Alexa suggested that we should walk.

I picked her up at her house and took in my breath at the sight of her in an off the shoulder peasant blouse with flared skirt and low heels. My God, I was going to get to walk around the town with this perfect woman on my arm! And we did just that, she hooking her arm through mine as we walked, occasionally bumping hips and most of all she squeezing her breast on my bicep.

We enjoyed an early dinner at one of the premier restaurants in town. Most eyes were on Alexa so I did not feel particularly self-conscious at the attention we aroused. We had one cocktail with our meal before toddling off once more to the movie theatre about a half a block away.

The movie was a tearjerker of some note and that pleased me because it brought out a warm gentle response from Alexa, she tearing up while clutching my arm. That unexplainable feeling of a woman’s soft breast on any part of my body evoked a daring response from my normally cautious self. My hand drifted down to her knee, I swear without my direction, and was poised to slip just a little up the inside of her leg. Alexa moved her lips close to my ear and said, “Not here Jim, maybe later.” I eased my hand away and she kissed me gently on the cheek. I did not want that movie to end.

But it did and as we walked away from the theatre Alexa said, “Let’s go to your apartment, I would like to see it.” My apartment was a quite nice bachelor apartment with bedroom, small living and TV room and a kitchenette. It was government owned and provided for nomadic types such as I who worked on short-term assignments.

I was pleased at her suggestion and had been wondering where the ‘later’ she had mentioned earlier might take place. I said, “It’s not much of an apartment but your wish is my command.” She explained that she had never had a boyfriend who did not live at home, and she felt very daring but comfortable visiting mine. She had snapped the end of her leash in my nose ring and I would have flown her to Paris if that had been her wish.

The ‘later’ came much more quickly than I had imagined it might. Following a short tour of the apartment Alexa slipped into my arms for a gentle tongue-probing kiss. I am sure that she could feel the beat of my heart pounding madly in my chest. Her arms went around my neck as she pressed her body to mine my hands began to roam from her sides to her breasts and back down to her hips, before circling behind to massage her cheeks. She moaned deliciously as her tongue intertwined with mine.

I reached down the back of her legs and slid my hands up under the skirt to the silky softness of her bum. She continued to kiss passionately, pressing her hips tight to mine and rubbing on my hard cock, the knob secured under my waistband. My fingers slipped under the legs of her panties to clasp her cheeks in my hands.

I attempted to work them around her body with the hope of touching her pussy. She pushed back a from me, her eyes focused on mine and said, “That’s probably far enough for a first date don’t you think?” She smiled and leaned in for a light peck on the cheek to let me know I should now walk her back home; the show was over for that evening.

That weekend at the cottage, one would have thought that we had engaged in full sex. We were both a little embarrassed, shy maybe at recalling how much lust we had shared on our first time alone. But we did relax and kissed when we could catch a few moments alone.

And so my life continued on into a warm sunny summer. We went out once or so a week, ending each date in my apartment for an hour’s heavy necking before I walked her home. We were soon naked in my bed, winding and twisting around like two snakes in the hot sun, arms and legs and torsos rubbing and caressing. She began giving me hand jobs as each evening ended, and invited me to go down on her.

But there was no entry, no copulation, no total release for my pent up lust. She made no excuses, gave no explanation about needing a marriage proposal first; she just drew the line when my knob began to probe her pussy lips. And I accepted it without question. I was illegal bahis siteleri quite content with what she was making available to me.

Meanwhile most weekends I managed to get a day or so at the cottage. We water skied, fished and played games and drank a lot of beer. Both Betty, Alexa’s mother and Leaha her close friend, appeared to be quite affectionate towards me, as if pleased that I was dating Alexa.

In fact flirtation amongst the group was rampant with everyone engaging in provocative chat and suggestive actions. Larry was always after Leaha in response to her flaunting her big tits and ass in front of him or any other male, including me. There were bikinis and boobs and legs and butts everywhere I looked. I had never experienced this type of permissiveness but all was good.

Betty, while always in control, would touch my arm, brush against me and look at me with soft inviting eyes. Damn, I began to develop this burning desire to bonk Alexa’s mother and Larry’s wife.

Leaha on the other hand was outright inviting me to screw her. I was late getting to the cottage one Saturday afternoon and went directly into the change room to pull on my bathing suit. I was bent over pulling my bathing suit up my legs, when a pair of arms circled me from behind and a hand grasped my cock. I said, “Jesus Alexa, someone might catch us.”

I then realized that from the height of the woman and the size of her tits it could not be Alexa. There was a laugh and Leaha said, “So the little princess does like to play with it too does she?”

I turned quickly, shaking off the arms to find Leaha grinning broadly and obviously a little drunk. She immediately grasped my cock again, and I let her.

The laugh left her face and her eyes clouded over as my cock stiffened in her soft hand. Her tits were bursting out of the skimpy top, and without thinking I grasped her by the hips and then slipped up her body to cup them in my hands.

I came back to earth suddenly, the sound of those at the beach now penetrating my consciousness, and pushed her away. The last thing that I needed to happen was to be caught with Leaha massaging my dick.

She was determined and said, “C’mon, relax, no one will come, they’re boozing it up. We just need fifteen minutes, we can do it all and I know you want some. We can do it standing up in case someone comes up the stairs. Fuck me baby.”

Oh man, I certainly wanted to as I had been months without full sex and despite the hand pleasure that Alexa was providing, there is nothing to compare with putting it in a pussy. I placed my hands on Leaha’s shoulders pushed her back and groaned, “Really Leaha, there is no way that can happen now.”

Leaha quickly returned to her ribald self, shrugged and said, “Not sure if your partner agrees”, she said looking down at my throbbing erection, “but there is always a next time.”

Who knew how close she and I had been to screwing that warm day, although for the next few hours she was acting no differently towards me than she had previous to the encounter.

My weakened outlook towards Leaha was most likely brought on by realization that Alexa was cooling towards me. The bloom on our flower was fading and shriveling. She had been ‘too busy’ to go out with me the past week and I was to find out that indeed it was over when we were next alone.

I had told her that I was to be transferred to another location at the end of the month. I personally did not want to leave but if I had to I hoped that she would continue to meet me on dates and that we would correspond when I left. I had a level of comfort with her that produced thoughts of marriage in the future. The ‘love’ word was working its way into my thought patterns, although never spoken.

She did not respond and just stated her wish to end the personal side of our relationship.

Larry continued to invite me to the cottage, but I could not go of course. Alexa would not be long without a boyfriend and there was no way that I could have acted decently if one showed up there. It was only a few weeks before I departed the area so I just made do on weekends, finding some work to fill my weekend hours.

Larry asked me to call him on the last Friday before I was to leave town. We had occasionally got together on Fridays for an afternoon of beer and jock talk when both able to get free of work requirements.

I called and Betty answered. We chatted a little, her daughter had dumped me but we had maintained a pleasant relationship. I asked to speak to Larry and she said that he had been caught up on a job a few hours out of town and might be late. She said, “I suppose that you were hoping for one of your Friday lunches.” She paused a bit and said, “C’mon over, we can talk until he gets here, and I’ll make up a nice lunch to have by the pool when he arrives.”

I said, “Sure, that’ll be great, when should I come over.”

She replied, “Oh any time you want, right now if you want. canlı bahis siteleri I’ll leave the front door open, just come in and grab a beer in the fridge and wait for me beside the pool. If I’m not ready you can relax in the sun, or take a swim if you want to.”

I thought that Betty might want to talk about my breakup with her daughter and maybe explain why her daughter had pulled the plug on me.

I walked over to their house and entered their front room, heard a scramble of some sort and walked down the hall to the back of the house. Suddenly, I came on Betty standing nude, toweling her hair and faced away from me. Damn, I froze for a second contemplating a retreat before she turned, but too late.

“Oh Goodness,” she said turning toward me, “I thought that I heard a noise in the back yard so I came to check.” She stood there smiling at me with her arms raised drying and fussing with her hair. God she was a dream, I allowed my eyes to drift over this beautiful apparition. Her body was a little aged on close inspection, but if anything it looked all the more desirable with grapefruit sized breasts just dangling the right amount, a flat belly and slim waist, round hips and a trimmed pussy bush. My tongue must have been hanging out as she posed flirtatiously and said, “Let me get dressed. I’ll be with you at the pool in five. Grab a beer.” She turned to leave the room.

I could not bring my eyes away from her naked legs, hips and cheeks and stood transfixed as she retreated. She turned and smiled at me, “I can feel those eyes on me, you are so bad, but I love it.”

I was also getting hard. I grabbed a beer, breathed in about two thirds of it and sat in a lounge chair by the pool. It did not take her long to get ready, she was back in minutes, wearing a short swim robe covering a very tiny bikini.

She held a cold beer as she approached, pressing it between her tits as she said, “I’m a little sweaty, I had a shower before you arrived and have been rushing a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

I garbled something about not minding at all and that brought another roguish look to her face. She said, “I’ve never been inspected as thoroughly as by you in the hallway. I was quite thrilled.”

Geez, I felt another leash attaching to my nose ring, but she wouldn’t have to tug very hard on it. She stood quickly, dropped the light robe, smoothed her hands down her sides and dove neatly into the pool. She surfaced, turned towards me and said, “C’mon in, I just had to get back in the pool, it’s perfect. Wear your undershorts if you want. I’ll make it easier for you.” She promptly slipped out of her top and tossed it to the edge of the pool. She said, “We’ll just stay at this end of the pool, our neighbor old Tom can’t see us here, but he’ll be looking.”

I quickly stood, downed the beer and stripped down to my undershorts despite being hard as a rock. I was just about to dive in to join her when her bikini bottoms plopped beside my feet. She laughingly said, “Or maybe don’t wear your undershorts.” She rolled to her back facing me, legs spreading and closing as she backstroked around, her tits floating as the water swirled around them. Even I knew that I was going to get laid. I dived in and came up below her feet.

She straightened in the water until her tits rubbed my chest, her eyes heavy and dulling with lust and said, “Keep your voice down, old Tom hears quite well.”

I suddenly realized that I was in a pool with my close friend Larry’s naked wife and the mother of my ex-girlfriend, who had sisters that all lived at home. I gulped, “Are you sure about this? When will Larry be back, and the girls?”

She kissed me tentatively, flicking her tongue across my lips, stared at me for a few seconds and said, “Don’t worry about Larry, we have an understanding and he won’t be home until evening. The girls are all working. We can have fun for a few hours. That naked bit was not an accident.” She moved her arms around my neck and pasted her body to mine and somehow managed to get my cock between her legs. She murmured, “C’mon, no more talk, take me to bed.”

We dried each other under a heat lamp beside the pool. We did more feeling than drying. She took my hand and led me to the spare bedroom at the back of the house. A good choice, in an emergency I could escape out the back yard. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed me a squeeze tube of jelly, she settled back on her hands and said, “The pool water takes my lubrication, rub some in my pussy.” She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as I applied the jelly with trembling fingers. She moaned and spread wider. I slipped one jellied finger into her pussy, sliding it in and out as she grasped my hand and cried out. I worked a second one into her and clasped the heel of my hand hard down on her mound, two fingers gently probing deep inside her pussy.

“Enough, enough,” she cried, scrambling to her back and pushing herself up the bed until she lay with her head on the pillow, knees raised and spread in invitation. I quickly crawled over top of her, my legs between hers while she grasped my cock and rubbed the knob in her slippery lips. Foreplay was definitely over, we were both panting in anticipation of getting it on.

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Spy? The man at the lectern was saying that my father had been an intelligence agent. I knew what an intelligence agent was. It was a spy. And I’d never even suspected that my father had been one of those. I figured he’d been something more than just a sportsman and dilettante, but I hadn’t given that much thought to it. Both of my parents had been flitting off someplace or other most of the time—and rarely together. I just hadn’t given it a thought. Someone’s funeral was sort of a bad time to learn that he had been a spy—especially when that someone was your father.

I guess that went part way to explain how and why he had been murdered in Tunis.

I looked around the cold interior of the large stone church in downtown Wilmington, Delaware. No one else seemed surprised that the man at the lectern, a distinguished English appearing and speaking, gentleman, a trim man in his early fifties, was talking of my father as a sacrificing public servant who had traveled into the jaws of danger again and again all over the world to serve and protect the United States.

There was a brief moment when I had the surreal feeling that I’d walked into the wrong funeral.

My mother, sitting beside me on the front pew of the church, didn’t look surprised, certainly. She didn’t look all that proud or grief-stricken either. She looked more distracted and separated from it all. It was probably a good defense mechanism in this instance. I don’t think she loved my father, but she certainly liked him well enough. I don’t think she loved any of the men I’d seen her with. But she used them all happily enough.

A spy was he? My attention was taken again by the man at the lectern, who seemed to be talking directly to me. The name “Griffin”—my father’s name—had arrested my attention. It was my name too, although I went by Grif to distinguish the two. Not that my dad and I had needed to be distinguished between often. We had rarely been in the same room together over the course of my life. I thought over the presents he used to bring home to me, realizing now that they weren’t the usual stateside fare. They were always something foreign and exotic. But, whereas I had been based in the Wilmington area as I grew up, my parents always seemed to be at one of their other houses in some other country.

And now I lived nearly full time in New Haven anyway, at Yale University, where I stuffed my nonacademic life with water sports—making sure that there was rowing or yachting or something that kept me from coming home for the summers to Wilmington, Delaware. I had grown tired of the attention and groveling in Wilmington where my mother, as a Dupont, was a natural center of attention—when she wasn’t flitting off to Florida or California or Europe herself.

I supposed I’d have to stick around now for a couple of weeks—until the fawning crowd thinned out. My mother wouldn’t like to do the “mourning family” routine anymore than I would, but she was a Dupont. She knew her duties in the social circles here. They certainly were fawning over us at the service. Both my mother and me. Because of my own proclivities, I could separate the men on their preferences. Most were paying court to my mother—and I wondered how soon my father’s official place would be taken up by another man. With her Dupont billions, I doubted it would be long. Not that my mother needed to have a husband to have her itches scratched. Then there were the few men who kept their eyes on me. I knew what they wanted.

The man at the lectern was looking at me in that way. Well, let him. I didn’t mind that sort of attention. Thinking of my father and Tunis made me think of my life at Yale. Another mystery solved, perhaps. My father had guided me into the area of international relations studies. My own interests were in swimming and boating, but I wasn’t so dumb I didn’t realize that I needed to major in more than that at Yale. I had fallen into the international area studies as suggested, without even giving a thought to how it fit into what my father was doing in life. And looking at my mother and how she was drifting into another world to survive this tedious funeral service, I did that too.

My thoughts went back to Yale. To the private tutoring session I was having with my South Asian studies professor shortly before being called home because my father had been murdered somewhere in Northern Africa. I hadn’t even looked Tunisia up on the map yet. My studies were geared more to East and South Asia.

Professor Gupta and I were both sitting lotus style on a platform bed in his house, me sitting, facing the tall, thin, well- although spare-muscled, berry-brown Indian’s chest. Sitting bare torso to bare torso with him, on his crossed legs, my heels pressing into his buttocks, while, at his murmured instructions I moved my channel, forward and back, revolving, on his thin but snake-long upward-curved cock. He was holding me with his hands under my arm pits, I was leaning forward, our foreheads touching, illegal bahis my eyes caught with his. His eyes were so expressive. They held mine in thrall. He was a handsome man, but I had not expected in my wildest dreams that we’d ever be positioned thus.

I entered South Asian studies with an aversion to everything having to do with the Indian subcontinent. I much preferred Chinese studies. I thought of Indians—the Indians of the subcontinent—as weak and weak minded and irritatingly obsequious. I didn’t like their philosophies or their willingness just to put up with and bend to natural calamity and conditions.

And yet, here I was, sitting on the cock of a wiry, middle-aged Indian man, a man with mesmerizing eyes, and long, thin fingers that made me sizzle at his touch, and a long, thin, snake-like cock that had invaded far up into my ass canal, the bulb pressing and rubbing against my sensitive inner walls, making love to me deep inside and causing the muscles of my walls to contract and expand and shimmer to his touch.

Gupta pushed my torso away from him and down toward the foot of the platform bed, where his handholds under my arm pits were replaced by those of Khurana, his younger, meatier assistant. Gupta’s hands went to gripping my waist and pulling me back and forth, deeper onto his cock, then not as deep, and then deeper again.

Khurana released his grip under my armpit at one side to untie the knot on his dhoti, the white cotton skirt draped around his loins. As his hand returned to its prior position, the dhoti drifted to his dark-brown feet and my head lowered over the foot of the bed. Crouching a bit, Khurana presented a plump, already-hard cock, and I took it in my mouth. Just opening to it, making a wide O shape, with my tongue flattening to the floor of my mouth, giving it a good angle for Khurana’s cock to invade along my tongue and into my throat. And to slowly move in and out.

He leaned his torso over mine, and took my cock in his mouth as well, as I fought not to gag as deeply as his cock was penetrating into my throat.

Showing admirable control, neither of them came before I did. When I had, in Khurana’s throat, he withdrew. Gupta moved his hands up my sides and drew my torso up to his. He didn’t stop in the position we’d started in, though. He continued lowering his back onto the surface of the platform bed, pulling my buttocks up with him.

Khurana moved up the bed on his knees, behind us, and I felt him positioning his cock head at my hole, still pierced by Gupta’s long, thin snake of a cock. I groaned and squirmed as Khurana’s cock entered me, on top of Gupta’s. My squirming helped to seat his cock inside me, though. His arms embraced my torso and arched it up into his chest. Gupta’s hands already were fanned on my pecs. Khurana’s palms covered Gupta’s hands.

And then Khurana began to plow me, his cockhead moving ever deeper inside me along the top of Gupta’s throbbing cock, sinking toward, but with little chance of success to sink deep enough kiss Gupta’s cockhead with his own.{Reword}

“And so, it’s with the greatest appreciation and affection that we commend a worthy Brother Griffin to his maker.”

The name brought me back into the church. The distinguished-looking man was coming down from the lectern and the strains of “Amazing Grace” were rising from the organ. The man had his eyes firmly planted on me all the time he was returning to his pew on the other side of the aisle from where my mother and I were seated

And then in a flurry—an excruciating length of time for a flurry—the service was winding down and we were exiting the front doors of the church behind the coffin that was being carried down the stone stairs and into the back of the black hearse.

Already the man—Henry Holden, I’d been told when we were introduced in the family room before the service—was there at my mother’s side, guiding her with a big mitt on her elbow. He was an oversized, muscular, florid-complexioned, red-headed man. Ruggedly handsome. My mother seemed impressed with his attentions. My mother was easily impressed by hunky man flesh.

And at my other side now, joining me where we had been stopped on the front steps of the church while they loaded the coffin into the back of the hearse, appeared the man from behind the lectern.

“My name is Tyler, Tyler Weston,” he murmured to me, as he leaned into me. “I was your father’s supervisor. Please accept my sincere condolences.”

What I thought was more sincere was the hand he had placed possessively on the small of my back, his fingers pressing down at the top of my butt crack. I sensed that we both were thinking that he was just inches from the rim of my asshole. He was as handsome up close as he had been at the distant lectern. He was elegantly and expensively dressed, the handsome face with graying sideburns on a precisely cut head of dark hair. Tall and lean. His voice was smooth and had a slight hint of the British in illegal bahis siteleri it, which my professors at Yale liked to affect as well. Quite the smooth character. And his eyes boring into mine, seemingly trying to convey so much more than his words did.

“Your father was a valuable asset to the nation’s work,” he murmured. “Here is my card—giving my home address and telephone number. Please take it, and don’t hesitate to call upon me for any solace or comfort I can give you.”

For the briefest moment his middle finger descendent further down my crack, positioning itself at my entrance, veiled only by the material of my trousers and briefs. I clearly understood what solace and comfort he was offering.

And then, appearing very polite and proper, he glided away from me so that we could move to the limousine idling behind the hearse. its back door now closed. The word “comfort” and the expression in Weston’s eyes remained with me for the rest of the grueling afternoon under the hot sun at the cemetery on the banks of the Christiana River. It lingered as the limousine drove back into the city for the reception at the Dupont Hotel.

* * * *

I pulled the Westsail 32, the largest of the family sailboats I could handle by myself, up to the dock, tied it up, jumped over the gunwale onto the dock, and climbed the stairs rising up the bluff of our summer property, Clifftop, at the top of the Chesapeake Bay near Elkton, Maryland. As I rose to the top of the stairs I paused to watch Toby pulling weeds in the border gardens surrounding the dining room of the house, which was all windows on three sides and jutted out toward the edge of the cliff.

My mother had lasted only three days at the Wilmington house, receiving visitors who hardly knew what my father had looked like feigning their grief. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t good of them to come. And they missed out on my father. He had the blond, perennially hunky good looks of a movie star. That, of course, was why my mother had married him. All of the money was on her side of the family, which was balanced quite well with his looks, Yale pedigree, and casual elegance on polo ground and in concert hall alike.

We had moved a world away to Clifftop, while still being almost in the outskirts of Wilmington. We hadn’t lost everyone buzzing around us in Wilmington, either. Henry Holden was here too, and there was no pretense that he and mother weren’t sharing the master bedroom. There was just one bedroom between theirs and mine in a wing that jutted out from the central rooms on the opposite side from the dining room and kitchen wing.

I loved this house and was glad we’d come here—even beyond the move having put us on the water, where I could sail out into the bay by myself and be alone with my thoughts. The thoughts now included the death—the murder—of my father. I had just accepted it before as something that would befall a rich tourist traveling to out-of-way exotic places. But now, knowing he was a spy, murder took on a whole new meaning for me. I wondered if he was traveling in Tunisia as a tourist or on assignment. I couldn’t help mulling that over in my mind.

My mother and Holden were on the screened porch at the center of the house, overlooking the bay. The house had originally been built as a rambling Victorian board-and-batten wood building, painted tree-trunk brown, with soaring ceilings and exposed beams inside and hulking stone fireplaces. The central living room rose two stories and there was a library loft at the bay end with two stories of large screened porches off that end. The upper screened porch was designed as a summer sleeping porch, and I had often used it that way. On the right at the entrance into the living room, a hallway went off that led to three bedrooms, the large master bedroom at the end, on the bay side of the wing.

Each bedroom had its own bath. Off to the left of the living room was the dining room jutting out at an angle toward the bay and always sunny and cheery because of the windows on all three sides. On the land side of the dining room were the large kitchen, pantry, and laundry. A staircase in the pantry led up to two small servants rooms above and a shared bath. We had no live-in servants here now. Just Tania, the black cook; her son, Toby, who did the gardening; and a handyman, Seth. Tania and Toby lived inland on the road to Elkton. Seth, who served as handyman and chauffeur, as needed, lived over the detached three-car garage across the parking area from the main entrance.

All smaller, less formal, less staffed than any of our other homes—which was why it was my favorite. It was the only house of ours I wanted to have, not the least because of the long dock below the bluff with the boathouse and the collection of sailboats.

My gaze moved away from Toby, a muscular black beauty some five years older than I am, who, only in shorts, moved with grace and glistening muscles in the flower bed, to the first-floor canlı bahis siteleri screened porch. Having seen me shift my eyes to them, my mother and Hal—as she called him—moved farther away from each other on a rattan glider. They were only shadows on the porch to me, though, so the adjustment seemed needless. I heard them in the master bedroom in the night. I knew he was giving her a good fucking. She and her men hadn’t surprised me for some years. She had made little pretense of covering it when my father was away, and the two of them seemed so distant from each other when they were together that I’d given up caring years ago.

I turned my eyes back on Toby, who had seen me now and had stood up straight, full frontal to me, looking at me under hooded eyes, and licking his puffy lips. Toby was another reason why I loved coming to Clifftop. His hand went to his crotch, promising a good time to be had later.

I turned, with a sigh, and moved to the door into the screened porch. I didn’t want to appear inhospitable. I really didn’t give a fuck that my mother was being poked again only three days after my father’s funeral. And Hal was great to look at anyway.

“We thought it was late enough to start the gin and tonics,” my mother said cheerily, as I entered the screened porch. “Help yourself.”

I went over to the bar, poured myself a drink, and sat down in one of the rattan armchairs across from the glider. My mother was in a diaphanous something or other and Hal was just in tennis shorts. My mother had that “just been satisfied” glow about her, and Hal, leaning over with legs spread wide and elbows on knees, had that “it’s already mine” look about him. I had news for him, though. This house was already legally encumbered as mine, and I didn’t care what other booty he made off with before my mother dropped him.

“Was the sailing good, honey?” my mother asked.

“Yes, very good,” I answered.

“That’s not a small boat,” Hal said. “You sure you can handle it all by yourself?”

“I’ve been doing so since junior high,” I answered. “Yes, I can handle it.”

“As big as you can manage, I guess,” Hal said. He was giving me “that” look. I gave him a second look now, with the possibility that he swung both ways. I liked what I saw. He was as old as my father had been. But big. Not fat big. Big boned, tall, broad shouldered, heavily muscled big. And a bit hairy. It was a reddish-blond hairy, though—wavy on his head, five-O’clock shadow on his face, and curly on his chest and belly, arms, and legs. His skin was ruddy, glowing with health and freckles. He wore one of those hulky Rolex watches and a thick gold chain around his neck, with an ancient-looking coin in a gold setting that nestled between massive, bulging pecs, with plump, taut nipples.

A vision of him holding me against one of the posts of the screened porch, with my legs hooked on his hips and my mouth sucking on that medallion as he thrust a massive cock up inside me again and again flashed through my brain.

“As big a one as I can manage,” I answered, my eyes going to his crotch. If this was an invitation of any sort, I was game.

Seeing me do that—my mother’s attention altogether lost on a loose thread on her silky wrap—Hal moved a hand to his basket and cupped what was inside, straining his equipment against the material of the shorts, showing me that what he had there was as massive as I had fantasized it would be.

There was no question. He wanted me—and there was less of a question that he knew I would let him have me.

“Hal has been bugging me about making use of the tennis court, Grif,” I realized my mother was babbling. The tennis court was on the back side of the three-car garage opposite from the entrance into the house. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for anyone coming out here to console me to find me on the tennis court, and I need to drive into town for a couple of hours this afternoon anyway. Perhaps you could . . .”

“I’d be happy to play with him, mother,” I answered, lifting my gaze from Hal’s crotch, still cupped in his meaty paw, to his eyes and his smiling mouth.

Message conveyed.

“And perhaps you’ll give me a ride on your sailboat someday,” Hal said. “I’ll admit that I’m not fond of the water in anything larger than a water glass and never learned to swim.”

“I’ll be happy to give you a ride,” I answered, straight faced.

Why should mother have all of the fun?

We played shirtless and in full, obvious erection. Hal called out that the winner could have his way with the loser, and I just shrugged, knowing that I was a near-pro tennis player. He was good, but I was better.

Our match—really only one set, because we both were keyed up, was being observed. Toby had come around the side of the garage and sat in a lawn chair, watching us. As evidence that our arousal play didn’t fool Toby, he had his nine incher out and was stroking it as he watched us.

At the net post afterward, Hal pulled me into his sweaty body; brought my mouth to his for a deep kiss; ran his hand down my bare torso, under the waistband of my tennis shorts; and grabbed my erect cock.

“It didn’t matter who won, did it?” I whispered.

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I was working in Atlanta away from home last week. Being alone, I had been edging all evening in my hotel room. Slick with coconut oil, I retrieved my Aneros Helix from my bag. I had brought it along knowing I would have some time by myself. I oiled it up and inserted it slowly. It pops in place with ease. I immediately felt a twitch in the base of my cock. Precum was dripping from the tip since I had been on edge for more than an hour. I slip a silicon cock ring onto the base of my shaft just against the top of my balls.

I slipped on a Speedo type bathing suit with the Helix inside me. I pulled on a traditional pair of trunks on over that. I grab a towel and head to hotel pool. The Speedo aided in keeping the Helix in place as it massaged me as I walked. Slowly moving back and forth over my prostate. By the time I got to the pool, I was sporting a visible erection.

There were a few people sitting around the pool but no one was in it. I laid my towel in a chair and walked toward the edge of the pool. As I passed a nice looking lady laying in one of the pool chairs, she definitely noticed the erection because she smiled illegal bahis big as I passed by her.

I made my way into the water and began to swim laps around the pool. The motions of swimming worked the Helix and caused it to move back and forth across my prostate. By the second lap, I felt a tingling in my groin area and it continued to grow with every movement. I start to feel spasms running all through my body and I start to experience internal orgasms every few moves. I keep thrusting my body through the refreshing water and my pleasure grows stronger and deeper. The harder I stroke and kick, the more powerful the internal orgasm become. I begin panting with every move. I can feel my cock throbbing and rigid. I stop swimming and stand in the water at one end of the pool. Every time I squeeze my cheeks together, I orgasm again and it is getting hard to contain myself. My breathing is jagged and it is hard to remain still. I grab the pole on the steps and pull myself up and out of the pool. I walk by the lady again with my cock even harder than it was before. She smiles big again, but this time it is hard to even walk, illegal bahis siteleri much less keep a straight face.

I manage to make it to the chair where I left my towel and dry myself off. I kept doing my Kegel movements as my body strobes in pleasure. I pick up my towel and make my way towards the hotel’s sauna. I feel like I could explode at any given second. Barely able to walk, I make it to the sauna and was pleasantly surprised to find it empty. I make my way through the steam and found the bench.

I laid out the towel and slide my trunks off. I push down the Speedos and sit down carefully on the towel. The Helix is now moving involuntarily and my dick is as hard as it has ever been. It is pulsating and throbbing. Sweat begins to bead up all over my naked body.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the sauna door open and someone enter the room. Through the steam I can make out a young slender guy sitting on the bench across the room. He too is naked and appears to be sporting an erection as well. I try to sit still but the spasms just keep coming inside me. My legs start trembling and I start panting. canlı bahis siteleri At this point I still have not touched my aching cock. I start to see spots and my body thrust upward involuntary . I squeeze my cheeks together and close my eyes as I begin to violently shoot cum all over my upper torso. Shot after shot of hot semen coats me up to my chin. My legs are stiff and my toes are curled tightly. I let out a loud moan beyond my control.

Finally the spasms start to calm down. I am exhausted and feel completely emptied from the massive ejaculation. My cock remains rigid and standing. As I open my eyes, I am reminded that I am not alone. As I peer though the steam, I see the young guy on the other bench stroking himself watching me intensely. We make eye contact and nod as I notice his own cum flowing over his hand that he is stroking with.

I wipe the semen off my body with the towel and pull my trunks on. I gather my stuff and head out of the sauna feeling satisfied and relieved. As I walk by the pool again, the nice looking lady smiles at me knowingly. I wonder to myself if I missed a spot of semen somewhere or if I just have that very satisfied look. I head to my room and fall out on the bed exhausted. I hear voices outside on the sidewalk and as I look out, I see the nice looking lady and the young guy from the sauna walking to their room… I wonder 🙂

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“How high…” sings Lynn. “How hi-igh… How high the moo-oo-oon!”

With echoes of Sarah Vaughan, she stretches the final word beyond its normal constraints, modulating the tone, while her fingers follow a little behind on the piano, finally resolving themselves in improvisation when she senses there is little more to be squeezed from one word.

The audience politely applauds as they recognise the change.

She smiles, although she is aware that she no longer resembles the slender Sarah Vaughan who first sang those words in the 1950s, but the older, fuller one of the 1970s who, unlike Lynn, had achieved enough fame that she could afford to ‘sell out’.

Selling out isn’t an option for Lynn. Neither her muse nor her record company, small though it is, would allow that. And her loyal following, scaled as modestly as Advanced Jazz Records, wouldn’t contemplate it either.

Tomasz, her drummer, nods with a smile as he takes Lynn’s cue to add his own improvised colour to the steady syncopated rhythm of the black notes on the keyboard. Paul strums the double bass with fingers as black as Lynn’s, his eyes closed and the grin on his face revealing the quiet ecstasy that always accompanies his playing. What an international trio they are: reflecting the cosmopolitan nature of Lynn’s adopted home of Manhattan. Tomasz from Poland, Paul from Alabama and Lynn from Peckham, a London suburb that seems bizarrely exotic set against the yellow taxis and steaming subways of the insomniac city.

The passage leads naturally to one of Lynn’s own compositions, but not one to which she is courageous enough to add lyrics. She knows she is no wordsmith, but she relishes the opportunity to scat over her own scales. The audience nods appreciatively, but not so much as when, a bass and drum solo later, Lynn lets the touch of the orient in her own Cairo Taxi Cab flow into the thundering allure of Duke Ellington’s Caravan. The more tutored ears in the Village Vanguard applaud wildly, joined by the rest when she at last sings: “Ni-ight and stars above that shine so bri-ight: the mystery of their fading li-ight that shines upon our caravan…”

The model for her rendition is not the sassy one, but Ella Fitzgerald who surely once sang, as did Sarah Vaughan, in this very historic venue. Much as Lynn loves the American songbook and its great stars, she is a modern artist. Her performances have a character and flavour that is her own, and good enough that she can earn a booking here in Greenwich Village, to which she, in true Ellington style, has taken the A train. But respected as she is, it is a modest audience that shelter in the basement club away from the chill of a New York autumn (or ‘fall’ as she is learning to call it).

At last, Lynn senses that the variations she can squeeze from Duke Ellington’s masterpiece have reached their term and she lets the number end with an ironic piano roll. The audience applauds and, twenty minutes into the set, it is time for Lynn to address the shadowy figures gazing up at her, clutching glasses of wine and beer in their hands. Although Lynn is a smoker, she is grateful for the city policy that means she now plays in a venue that smells more sweetly than her uptown apartment.

She thanks the audience for their appreciation, reminds them that they are listening to the Lynn Wood Trio, and tells them what songs she’s just played. Although too much chat is frowned on at a jazz gig, she feels obliged to give a little background to her next number.

“My daughter lives in L.A. now,” she says hesitantly. “She’s an optometrist, I think. Some kind of eye specialist. But when I wrote this song, she was just a little girl. And I still think of her as one whenever we perform it. Here it is: Kirsten!”

Indeed, it is memories of her dearest and only fruit of her womb that fill her thoughts as she plays her own pianistic tribute to the restraint and beauty of Bill Evans who was such a great influence to Lynn in those early days in Peckham and, later, North London.

Those were hard days and Lynn knows only too well that a single tune, however sincerely meant, can scarcely begin to recompense for the neglect she’d actually shown her daughter. Those were days when a regular supply of smack and a series of relationships, unsatisfactory and ecstatic in equal measure, were far more important to her than a wailing child whose father had left her when Lynn was still a fifth-form pupil. Even those formative days of premature motherhood were just a momentary stumble in a series of boyfriends, drugs and a passion for music that owed nothing at all to the subtleties and rhythm of Bill Evans or Duke Ellington. However, as the fashion for the disco of Sister Sledge and Chic was supplanted by jazz funk and Lynn’s growing interest in the origins of those more intriguing rhythms, music was mostly just the backdrop to her carnal and narcotic indulgences.

When she wrote her song, the nearest any illegal bahis of her compositions has ever approached to commercial success, it was more a guilty tribute to the feelings she felt she ought to have towards her daughter than a reflection of the love she actually expressed. ‘The Brat’, as she’d privately christened the optometrist-to-be, was an awkward child who resented the series of wholly unsuitable boyfriends shooting up in the squalid bedroom she shared with her mother. Long before she was able to enjoy sex herself, she’d seen enough of it on her mother’s bed. And frequently with more than one partner.

Perhaps that was why Lynn sees so little of the daughter celebrated in the wistful melodies of her most celebrated opus. And why Kirsten dedicates herself to a life as unlike that of her reprobate mother as it is possible to be. When she and her boring accountant husband have children of their own it is unlikely they’ll know anything other than the comforts of West Coast Suburbia.

It is Paul’s turn for a prolonged solo and he smiles broadly as he acknowledges Lynn’s nod. Dave Holland, look out! Lynn leans back on her stool and lets her eyes wander about the audience she hasn’t really had the opportunity to study before. It is the usual Wednesday night crowd at the Village Vanguard: mostly men, mostly middle-aged, a couple of disorientated Japanese tourists and a lot of tapping toes.

She knows her daughter isn’t seated there in the second row, by a table all to herself. Although Kirsten has supported her mother’s career with more selflessness and love than Lynn ever managed towards her daughter, there are too many miles and too many optically challenged patients between them for her to celebrate her mother’s good fortune at earning a short residency at the world’s most celebrated jazz venue. It is a woman, though, a white one as well and the same one who sat in the same seat the night before. The same woman who approached Lynn as she made her way to the back room that doubles as both changing room and kitchen.

“I really want to say just how much I enjoyed your set,” she told Lynn shyly in her educated Brooklyn accent.

“Why thank you!” said a truly flattered Lynn, who is accustomed to praise from men but rarely receives it from women.

“I love all your songs,” continued the woman gushingly, “but especially Kirsten. I can’t begin to describe how much it helped me when I was going through a bad patch. I’ve often meant to see you perform, but you don’t play downtown often enough…”

“The tours take me everywhere, but it’s my home town I enjoy playing the most,” Lynn replied. “The world’s a big place, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” said the woman, clinging desperately to her moments of conversation with the English émigré. “I’ve seen the itinerary on your website. You play everywhere. San Francisco, Tokyo, Sao Paolo, Trond…Trond…”

“Trondheim. Norway,” Lynn corrected. “Great country. I love it…”

“And I love you,” said the woman. Then blushing: “I mean I love your music. It means so much to me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Lynn, who smiled, and eased pass the woman to Paul and Tomasz waiting for her at the back with her long-neglected packet of Marlboros.

It is Tomasz who takes over from Paul with shuffling soft percussion, while Lynn’s hands hover over the keyboard. At last, it seems right and she breaks the tempo with a few tinkly notes mostly drowned out by the applause for her sidemen. Then, appropriately for the time of year, it is the yearning sadness of Autumn Leaves that she plays to the delight of the Japanese tourists.

Tomasz and Paul are attractive men, both younger than Lynn, and together they make a coherent trio, communicating with the empathy of all successful improvisers. Each knows intuitively what the others are doing and is happy to give each other the support that has kept the trio going for more than two years now.

However, much as Lynn privately lusts for Paul’s lean, muscular body, his arms bare to the shoulder, or the slightly vulnerable, even feminine, Tomasz, she has learnt from earlier mistakes not to mix a professional relationship with sex. In earlier days, in Peckham, later in North London and, then, on the back of one of her more passionate relationships, Stateside, she let the easy rapport she achieved on stage overlap on her bedchamber.

It is undoubtedly true that the skill for improvisation that make her a professional jazz musician are just as well expressed in physical passion, and she has enjoyed sex with the members of her earlier trios, even the quartets and quintets, sometimes together but more often separately. But the more passion, and the more recklessly it is expressed, the briefer the length of time she has managed to hold her ensembles together before jealousy and intrigue threw the whole affair apart, invariably messily and rarely without rancour.

What would it be like to take Paul’s cock illegal bahis siteleri in her mouth? Or even Tomasz’s? Lynn has long ago overcome her fear of unfamiliar white cock, although the first few times were definite disappointments compared to the standards of sexual prowess she had become accustomed to. But even now, she feels more content brushing against black skin. Perhaps not as often as she once did and certainly no longer as often as she’d like, but advancing age hasn’t diminished her desire, however much it has affected her ability to prolong her carnal encounters beyond the first hour or so.

It is, in fact, weeks, maybe over a month, since she last enjoyed sex and, like so many of her more recent encounters, it was an unsatisfactory affair that failed to go beyond even the first night. Her last real relationship was well over a year ago, and she was more shocked by its disintegration than she ever thought possible. It is harder to find and even harder to hold onto a good thing. Once she thought her comparative fame and fortune would bring her an unbroken series of affairs, but the history of her amours has followed a different trajectory to that of her critical and exceedingly modest commercial success.

People might think that the rewards of a career like hers would be a life of constant debauchery, but, just as she reluctantly, but heroically, abandoned a life of drug abuse that threatened to get out of control, so too, and for totally different reasons, has a life of easy sexual abandon deserted her.

After the applause that greets the final notes of Autumn Leaves, Lynn thinks the audience is ready for sterner stuff. In the hush between numbers, she plinks a few notes and looks searchingly towards Paul and Tomasz. The Polish drummer is a talented composer himself, and he deserves credit for the next number which he knows is next in the repertoire. Better to give that credit afterwards when the audience has heard it, than before when they might think Lynn is featuring his Karol’s Wake for reasons of kindness rather than admiration.

She lets him begin on the little brush that strokes the cymbals, while Paul closes his eyes and readies his fingers on the strings of his double bass and Lynn squeezes her hands together on her lap.

Perhaps it is the sorrow of Polish history that guides Tomasz’s compositional muse, but it is a sense of regret and lost beauty that inspires Lynn’s interpretation of his sweet melody. Her own compositions have also become much less upbeat and more wistful, and fit easily with the mood that develops. Tomasz’s notes slide easily into those of Lynn’s Approaching Ennui and an ambience of sadness and reflection replaces the more straight-ahead rhythms of the first few numbers.

Sometimes Lynn believes she only truly knows herself through her improvisations. She expresses more of herself on the ivory keys than she has ever been able to do in word and deed. Perhaps this is why her daughter loves her, not because of the maternal love she so much failed to provide, but from the truer feelings that guides her through the performances which drain and enervate her, but also bring her to a level of ecstasy that not even heroin ever managed to do.

Tomasz’s lightly brushed tympani bring the medley to a close and the applause that greets the pause gives Lynn the space to study her audience again. The woman in the second row is strangely illuminated, perhaps, Lynn fancies, by the light shining from Paul’s beatific grin. Although she is applauding as vigorously as anyone else, Lynn is sure she can see tears smeared over her face.

Lynn does not think of herself as a woman especially inclined to Sapphic pleasures, although there have been occasions when she has succumbed to them when they are available. She senses that this woman is besotted by her, and there is little doubt in her mind that there would be much effort required in persuading her to extend her adoration of Lynn’s music to her body. But what does Lynn think of her female admirer?

Clearly, she is not a woman in her earliest bloom, but she is still younger than Lynn. She remembers from their brief encounter that she is a woman who carries her years lightly and she is sure that there is beauty beneath her sweater and jeans that is well worth the adventure. Although she has often had sex with her admirers, not once has that been with a woman. And would this even be wise?

Lynn doesn’t know, but the thought of an amorous liaison excites her in a way she didn’t expect.

“The first song in the medley was written by Tomasz,” Lynn announced, generously gratified, as was the Pole, by the audience’s thunderous appreciation. “Karol’s Wake. It’s about the late Pope, I think. The second two are new songs of mine, as yet untitled.”

Then, as is traditional at this stage in the gig, Lynn introduces her sidemen by name. As always it is Paul who gets the loudest yelps of appreciation. Lynn canlı bahis siteleri knows that it isn’t just his playing that earns the audience’s adoration but that natural love for his trade that shines from his eyes and his remarkably healthy teeth. If her daughter had been a dentist rather than an eye specialist, who knows how much admiration she would express for her sideman, whose only hours away from constant practise on the tool of his trade are spent in the uptown gym where he exercises his generously toned biceps.

Lynn has learnt from her years of performing to pace her sets without the benefit of a watch, and now is the time to up the tempo and bring the set towards its climax. There is no need to announce the Brian Wilson song she has made her own, although she is wise enough not to emulate the vocals. But even as her piano sings over Tomasz’s joyful percussion, she mouths to herself: “Wouldn’t it be nice…”

How nice would it be, Lynn wonders, to get married, to have children and live a Suburban life? One just like her daughter’s? A life of domestic settled bliss she fears it is already too late to know herself.

On the other hand, would she have willingly exchanged all the sex and associated excitement for well-tended lawns and the local church? How many housewives have enjoyed as much cock as she has? She has heard about suburban orgies, but she can’t imagine that the huge drives and sidewalks are really home to more depravity than what she has already enjoyed.

As she guides the trio towards her next number, Nardis, a Miles Davis opus naturally, that allows her to show off the skills earned from hours of practise, the erotic images that fill her mind feature rather less cock and lithe male muscle than a softly feminine intimacy. When was the last time she tasted the thick lips of another woman’s vagina? Not for a long time, but her memories are vivid and so too is her as yet unrealised resolution to taste more. That Brooklyn woman promises so much and not only was there desire hidden in her eyes, but a strange enthusiasm that Lynn is sure would make a night with her a night to remember.

And maybe not just the one night.

And wouldn’t a little reliable intimacy be welcome at this time in her life?

Music melds mind and body together in a most strange way. And tonight the erotic frisson of Lynn’s speculation is taking her improvisations in a new direction. Her fingers caress the keyboard as she would make love to a naked body. The rhythm she maintains in her left hand expresses the carnality of desire, whilst her right hand guides a melody that hints at those deeper emotions that are most keenly felt in the throes of sexual ecstasy.

And then Tomasz takes over the rhythm, pushed forward by the strum of Paul’s double bass. The three of them bring their improvisations together in one of those moments of mutual communication that are as ecstatic as any other kind. Paul’s grin threatens to split his face in two and Tomasz is as rhapsodic as he can ever be. And Lynn knows, although she has only ever seen it in photographs, that her own face is a broad, almost child-like, expression of rapture.

One more number and the set will be over. Or not quite. The audience, and in particular the Brooklyn woman of Lynn’s fantasies, won’t let the trio off the stage. This is the last set of the night and there is no excuse that the audience will accept.

“Well, thank you! Thank you!” says Lynn, who is genuinely flattered by the applause. She smiles at the woman in the second row whom she senses must know that the added impetus that made tonight’s set gel so well came from her. “And this must be the last one on our set. It’s a number that I, for one, will always associate with the Village Vanguard. The Bill Evans classic: Gloria’s Step!”

This unscheduled third encore is for Paul’s benefit. It’s a number perfectly attuned to his virtuosity and he takes up the challenge with relish and much to the delight of his adoring fans. Tomasz’s face beams with a smile almost as broad as Paul’s and Lynn can feel the ache in her own cheeks as the musicians coalesce in one last improvisation.

The audience know that three encores are enough and aided by the lights being raised by the management, they get up to leave at the same time as the Lynn Wood Trio gathers their water bottles together to leave the stage. The woman in the second row still sits there as the rest of the audience head off to the door and the steps leading up to the Manhattan streets.

She stands up and pulls a long leather overcoat over her shoulders. She glances up half-expectantly towards Lynn and is clearly surprised to see the pianist approach her.

“So what did you think of the gig?”

The woman chokes slightly to be addressed so directly, but she recovers her composure even though her white freckled skin is unable to hide the colouring that fills her cheeks.

“It was probably the best concert I’ve ever heard!” she says. Sensing more is needed, she adds: “I particularly enjoyed those melodic tunes you played in the middle. How can music be so beautiful?”

“Indeed!” says a gratified Lynn. “I’m glad you enjoyed our set. So, what’s your name?”

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Trevor heaved a sigh of relief as he pulled into the driveway. It was Friday and he had the whole weekend to look forward to. Better yet, it was his birthday, and his wife Cassie told him she had a special surprise for the big 4-0.

The sun was setting behind him as he turned his key in the lock, excited to see his wife and what gift she had in store for him. He hoped it was that that power tool he had his eyes on lately. He smiled as he opened the door with anticipation.

Trevor walked in and immediately felt his cock stiffen in his pants. Standing in front of him was Cassie, hardly dressed at all in that black thing he loved. Two tiny triangles barely covered her ample tits, and sexy black lace clung to her curves all the way down to her hips. His eyes drifted down. Strapped to her pantie-less cunt was her favourite cock. She said it was her favourite because it was just the same length and girth as his… she liked to remind him while she was fucking him that this was what it was like to be her. Currently, the bright purple dildo was standing at attention, bobbing slightly, begging for an ass to fuck. On her feet were her black fuck-me heels that she said made her feel like a porn star.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” she said huskily, leaning in for a kiss. He pulled her up to him and kissed her deeply. He could smell her freshly shampooed scent in her soft brunette hair that she dried naturally, making it curl just the way he liked. Her skin was warm and smooth, but broke out in goosebumps at his greeting. She pulled back, bit her lip, and smiled coyly.

She had both arms behind her back, hiding the first of his birthday gifts. Trevor moaned a greeting back and pulled her to him, grinding his rapidly growing cock against hers. She eased one hand between them and massaged his cock while she pushed him away slightly. “You go take a shower while I get dinner ready.” She brought her hand around and showed him a small bag. “Here’s a surprise for when you’re done.”

Trevor reluctantly headed downstairs to the bathroom where he took a long, hot shower. He took his time soaping up and readying his ass for what he hoped would be a post-dinner pounding. He gently stroked himself, thinking of the possibilities. But he didn’t want to get too worked up… yet. He turned off the taps and reached for his towel. As he stepped out of the shower into the steamy room, he saw Cassie waiting for him and he towelled himself off quickly.

Cassie held out the bag. As he peered in, expecting to see a new shirt, or maybe a pair of panties – she loved to make him wear them when they went out for dinner – his cock throbbed and his ass puckered. Inside was a brand new butt plug. Trevor bit his lip. It was bigger than anything they had used before… it looked almost as big as Cassie’s fist. His cock was already dripping precum as he imagined putting it in.

He looked at Cassie who was smiling at him. She beckoned Trevor to her with her finger. He stepped toward her and dropped his towel. “Turn around, baby.” Trevor obeyed. Cassie pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him, caressing his chest, his arms, his stomach, with her hands. While she touched him all over, he could feel her cock gently resting between his cheeks, teasing him.

“This is a big one baby, do you think you can handle it?” Cassie finally broke the steamy silence.

“Yes, yes I can,” Trevor whispered back.

Cassie trailed her fingers up his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. With one hand she reached behind her and took a bottle of lube from the counter. With the other she tickled his ass with one finger. She gently massaged him for a minute before she crouched behind him, and a second later, her tongue joined her finger.

Trevor braced himself on the towel bar as Cassie’s tongue explored his ass. He felt her soft hands grab his ass firmly and spread him so she could get her tongue deeper. She moaned as she tongued his hole, alternating long, soft licks with firm probing strokes, fucking him with her mouth. Her tongue felt cool against his skin in the steamy bathroom and the sensation was incredible.

After several minutes she pulled back. “I can’t wait to see this in your ass,”

First she applied some lube to his hole. She used one finger, then two, and three to warm him up and stretch him open. She pumped her fingers and twisted them one way and then the other, swirling and tickling his prostate until his legs were trembling. Trevor reached for his cock and she slapped his hand away, “Don’t touch! Turn around.” Trevor turned so he was facing her, his cock hard and straining toward her mouth.

With her fingers still in his ass, she reached for the plug and waved it at him, teasingly. She brought it to his ass and pressed it to his tight opening. She lubed it up generously and started rhythmically pressing it against his hole, gently pushing a little further each time. At the same time, she took his cock in her mouth, canlı bahis swallowing it deep. Trevor moaned loudly.

The plug was bigger than anything he’d had before. He could feel every inch of it stretching him. It felt fantastic. As his ass relaxed she eased it all the way in; it was all he could do not to stroke his dick and finish himself off as he felt it’s immense girth, stretching his well-used ass to its limit.

He could barely see straight as Cassie gently moved the butt plug oh-so-slightly inside him, just enough that he was reminded how big it was, while she sucked him off. He was so close.

Then suddenly she stopped. “Not yet, baby. I’ll be at the table… waiting.” And with that she rose, turned, and left the room.

Trevor threw on a t-shirt and some briefs and headed back up to Cassie, his cock dripping and straining against his underwear the whole way, soaking the fabric. He found Cassie in their dining room, still in her black lingerie, with her legs spread wide on one of their dining chairs, her purple cock bobbing invitingly at him. He could see her glistening cunt from where he stood, his underwear now struggling to contain his hard cock. His hand drifted down to touch himself.

“Uh-uh,” Cassies shook her head and stood. Trevor could see where she had just been sitting by the juices she left behind on the chair. “That cock is for me.”

Trevor removed his hand. “Good boy. Now come sit down.” Trevor did as he was told.

“I’m a bad wife,” Cassie pouted. “I didn’t make you any dinner.” She slowly lowered herself onto his lap and ground her pussy, and her cock, against his throbbing bulge. “I was thinking about you all day long, and I was too horny to cook. Instead I just masturbated all day. I came six times and I’m exhausted. All I have for you is this cupcake.” She handed him the treat, with a single candle lit on top.

“It’s your favourite. Vanilla filled with dark chocolate and cream. Make a wish,” she said, and ground her soaking wet pussy against his cock. Trevor groaned with pleasure as her cock pressed into him, and he blew out the candle. Cassie scooped up some frosting with her finger and fed it to Trevor, licking the last traces of it off his lip. He kissed her back deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue.

“Fuck the cupcake,” Cassie muttered, tossing it aside. “I’ve been waiting for this all day. I need you to fuck me right now.” She tugged his shirt over his head and yanked swiftly at his underwear, springing his erection free. She lifted her ass and impaled herself onto his waiting cock, moaning a sigh of relief as she rode him. He gasped as her slick, warm pussy suddenly sheathed his entire length, and began meeting her thrust for thrust.

She rode him slowly for a bit, letting her clit rub against her dildo while she stroked it, mimicking a hand job. Trevor couldn’t help himself, and he put her hand over hers, imagining it was a real dick he was stroking. He’d always imagined what it would be like to stroke a real cock. Besides his own of course. And for a moment he was lost in his own fantasy.

And suddenly the heat from Cassie’s cunt surrounding his cock, and the plug that was stretching his ass deliciously was too much. “Cum with me,” Trevor begged, about to explode.

“Not yet baby, I’ve been dying for this all day. I need your cock,” she cried, riding him furiously.

Trevor grabbed her ass and pulled her down on him now, harder and faster. With one hand he reached between them and starting rubbing her clit. “Oh god,” Cassie cried out “I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Do it now baby, I need your hot load in me now!”

She began to moan and he felt her clench rhythmically around his shaft. That did it. His own orgasm began to course through him. With each spasm, his ass clenched around the plug, intensifying the sensation. Waves of pleasure pulsed through his cock as his hot cum spurted deep in her pussy, over and over again. He grunted in rhythm with their thrusting until it slowed as their orgasms subsided.

When they were both finished, Cassie relaxed against his chest. Trevor whispered huskily in her ear, “that was fucking fantastic. I love the way you fuck me.” All Cassie could do was sigh in agreement.

Cassie lifted herself from Trevor’s cock, and slipped her hand between her thighs. She loved the slick feel of his cum inside her. She brought her hand to her mouth and slipped a finger between her lips. Then she held a finger to Trevor’s mouth and said “Lick it.” Trevor obeyed, already horny again at the thought of tasting his own cum. He would beg for more later tonight.

They quickly cleaned up, while Trevor wondered what else might be in store for the rest of the night. Cassie pegged him regularly, but on special occasions, she usually had a little something extra up her sleeve. And judging by her dildo-wearing-greeting at the door, he was sure tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Well baby, are you ready for your gift?” Cassie asked, bahis siteleri coming up behind him and slipping her arms around his middle, teasing his ass with her cock.

“Yes, please,” Trevor replied, his prostate already tingling with anticipation. Cassie grabbed his hand and led him towards the bedroom. As he opened the door, it looked like their typical setup for a night of fun; a few toys and accessories on the table, and a couple of bottles of lube. Their TV appeared to be playing one of Trevor’s favourite compilations of men being fucked in the ass while their wives watched (or did the fucking.) Good background noise. And his gift was sitting on the bed.

There, in Trevor and Cassie’s bedroom, wearing only a red bow around his cock (“Nice touch, Cassie,” Trevor thought, idly wondering who tied it on) was Dale. Trevor’s cock immediately grew rock hard, knowing what the night would hold.

They had talked about this for months, years even. Agreed that when the right “opportunity” presented itself, they would take it. But they hadn’t yet taken the steps to make it happen.

“Surprise,” Cassie whispered in his ear. Trevor stood for a moment, surprised and turned on and not sure what to do. “Dale and I got to talking at the Christmas party last year. Turns out his boyfriend and girlfriend are very supportive of him putting his dick in your ass.”

“Your wife is very persuasive. Not that I needed much persuading,” Dale said with a smile.

Trevor just swallowed and shifted his gaze to Dale’s impressive erection. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening. He knew he should do something. Say something. Anything. But he stood there, naked, stunned, and horny as fuck.

“Don’t keep our guest waiting, honey. It’s rude. Now go suck his cock.” Trevor did as he was told. He walked over to the bed, and removed the bow from Dale’s beautiful mocha-coloured cock. It was just as long and thick as he’d imagined. Trevor could feel his own erection dripping like a faucet.

Trevor leaned down and hesitantly put his lips around Dale’s enormous knob. He was huge; Trevor could barely get his lips around him. A drop of precum appeared at the tip of his Dale’s cock; Trevor licked it off, enjoying the salty taste as much as he did his own. Dale exhaled softly.

Trevor didn’t think he would know what to do when it finally came to this; but his instinct guided him. He knelt between Dale’s legs and gripped the growing dick and began to stroke the 8-inch rod. He loved the feel of the thick cock, hot and throbbing in his hand.

“That’s it baby, just like that,” Cassie whispered in his ear.

Dale gave a low moan and put his hand on Trevor’s head. He gripped Trevor’s hair, pulling him down onto his cock, and thrust his hips up, forcing his shaft further into Trevor’s mouth. Trevor swallowed his gag reflex and took Dale deeper, savouring every inch. Trevor heard himself groan with pleasure as he licked and sucked Dale’s dick, fucking him with his mouth.

While he blew Dale, he could feel Cassie behind him, playing with his butt plug. Gently turning it, pulling it out slightly, and pressing it back in, all the while massaging and kneading his ass. Occasionally she brought her tongue to him and gently licked his taint.

“Oh god baby that’s so hot. You suck cock so good,” Trevor heard Cassie groan into his ass. “Use your tongue. Lick up all his cum like a good little slut.” She returned her attention to the toy, tugging and twisting it, tickling his prostate. He paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation and pressed himself back against her, his balls grazing her cock. Trevor groaned.

“His cocks not going to suck itself, is it you slut?” Cassie smacked his ass hard and ground herself against him.

Trevor turned his attention back to Dale’s big black cock, which was slick with precum and Trevor’s saliva. He wrapped his lips again around the thick shaft and slid them up and down as he’d watched and felt Cassie do to his own cock a thousand times. “Oh yeah, suck me you little cockslut!” Dale grunted.

Trevor moaned around his mouthful of dick. He loved being Dale’s little cockslut. He loved the feel of a big dick in his mouth, stretching his cheeks and ramming against the back of his throat. He loved the feel of Dale growing more rigid in his mouth as he sucked him just right. As Trevor found his rhythm he bobbed faster up and down on Dale’s pole. He alternated between sucking and licking while he gripped the base of the dick firmly in his right hand. Dale’s hand was still on Trevor’s head, forcing his cock just a little bit further down Trevor’s throat with each push.

Trevor loved it so much he started to moan. As the vibrations of his voice sent tremors through Dale’s member, Trevor could feel his dick straining, preparing for release. “Oh yeah, Suck it you slut! Make me cum!” Dale grunted. Trevor kept sucking and slurping, faster and harder, and devouring the veiny rod with his mouth, desperate for Dale’s bahis şirketleri hot load.

He could feel Dale start to tense beneath him, his ass clenching and his balls tightening closer to his massive cock. “Oh fuck!” Dale’s cock began to pulse. “Eat me you cum slut! Swallow it all, oh fuck!” Dale’s monstrous cock began to shoot huge ropes of hot cum. Trevor surrounded Dale’s knob with his mouth, sucking and swallowing every drop of jizz Dale gave him.

“Oh fuck I love your cum,” Trevor moaned between mouthfuls. Dale must have shot off his cock eight or nine times before the streams of cum abated. Trevor finished the huge load and was ready for more. He leaned over Dale’s lithe body, catching his breath.

“Oh fuck baby that was so fucking hot,” Cassie groaned. Trevor glanced up and saw Cassie beside him, watching them. She was still wearing her purple cock but had found the biggest dildo they owned and had taken its full length in her dripping wet cunt. She was fucking herself with it, legs spread, giving Trevor a fantastic view of her pussy, which was being stretched to its limit by the enormous toy. “You look so good with a big dick in your mouth. You suck cock better than I do! Oh fuuuuck!” Cassie’s orgasm came screaming out of her, her pink lips gripping the dildo as she shuddered with pleasure. Her eyes closed, he head tossed back, she trembled while she continued to thrust. When she finished she slowly slid the big cock from her pussy and put it to Trevor’s lips. “Suck it,” she said. Trevor obediently cleaned up her juices too.

“Lay down, ” she instructed. “That wasn’t enough. I need you to eat my pussy.” Trevor settled back onto the bed Cassie climbed on his face. She was still wearing her strap on. She teased his mouth, sliding it in and out a few times.” “Good cocksucker,” she praised. Finally, she slid her pussy over his waiting tongue and ground herself suggestively against his face.

He gently sucked her clit and probed her wet tunnel with his tongue until she was quivering which, after eight orgasms, didn’t take long. She was stroking her cock the whole time, teasing him but not touching him. She moaned and shuddered with every lick. Just when he was sure she was going to cum again, she suddenly lifted her ass and spun herself around so he was face-to-ass with her tight little hole. “Lick my ass, baby.” She pressed her ass against his face. He stuck his tongue out as far as he could and fucked her tight little pucker with his tongue. He buried his face as deep as he could, stroking softly as she whimpered with pleasure. Then he alternated between her asshole and her pussy, probing his fingers wherever his tongue wasn’t.

While Cassie rode Trevor’s face she looked over at Dale. “You’re not done here, fucker. It’s your turn. Suck my husband’s dick.” Trevor’s cock twitched at her command. A second later he felt Dale’s hot mouth surrounding his entire length.

Still tasting Dale’s dick in his mouth, and his cum in his throat, made Trevor hornier than he ever thought possible. It wasn’t going to be long before he blew his own load in Dale’s mouth.

He felt the heat from Dale’s mouth leave his cock, replaced by a firm grasp. Dale started stroking his shaft, using his other hand to slip the butt plug from Trevor’s ass. “Oh god!” He gasped as Dale’s tongue was suddenly inside him. “Oh fuck yes. Oh fuck!” Dale used long firm strokes to tease Trevor’s tight hole. His fingers were long and deft, where Cassie’s were small and gentle.

As Trevor tongued Cassie, Dale’s mouth alternated between eating his ass and eating his dick. Trevor couldn’t decide which he wanted more of. Cassie sucked his dick better than anyone. And this wasn’t better exactly; just… different. Every lick and touch felt more intense; with every twitch of his cock he thought he was going to explode.

He could feel that Cassie was getting close to another orgasm. He lapped at her cunt one more time before focusing his tongue in her cute little asshole, while his fingers slipped inside her pussy, and stroked her canal. He felt her firm ridge and rubbed it gently. As he knew she would, she cried out wordlessly, “uunnnhhhhhhhh!!!!” He kept going, harder and faster. She ground herself against his hand. “Oh fuck baby here it comes!” Suddenly her body was pulsing around him while the warm fluid squirted from her pussy, drenching his face.

As she came, Dale fucked Trevor’s ass vigorously with his tongue while he stroked his cock continuously, alternating hands. The orgasm hit him hard and fast, seconds after Cassie flooded his mouth with her cum. “Oh god, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” he screamed. Dale gave one last thrust of his tongue and deftly stuck his fingers in Trevor’s ass to massage his prostate while he took Trevor’s dick in his mouth to accept his jizz. Over and over his ass squeezed Dale’s hand while his cock spurted jet after jet of hot cum down Dale’s throat. He watched as Dale’s mouth slurped and sucked and swallowed his load. As Dale pulled away, Trevor’s cum dribbled out the side of his mouth. He swiped at it with a finger and then applied it to Trevor’s asshole, sliding his fingers in and out a few times, using Trevor’s own cum as lube.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I had known Emily since she was a baby. I watched her grow from a young child to an exuberant teen and finally to a very sexy young adult. Yes she was half my age, and to be honest, when she was an 18-year-old gymnast, there were times that I had less than wholesome thoughts about her, but as every father thinking things like that about their kid’s friends, I kept them well to myself. I suspect that as she grew into her early twenties, those full body hugs she gave me, the ones where she couldn’t seem help but press her hips tight to mine, were an indication that she had picked up on those hidden desires.

Over the years I watched her grow, and yes, fill out, till she was quite a sexy looking young woman. At only five thee, and barely over a hundred pounds, she was extremely petite, but her chest had filled out into full C cup. A fact which I was frequently reminded of as she continued to give me full body hugs every time we met. If that meeting was alone, those hugs seemed to last much longer and I often wondered if it was my imagination that she hugged tighter or that she ground her hips into my quickly growing hardon.

One thing I was sure of, was that those alone hugs were more than long enough for her to feel that hardon pressing against her body. The hardon caused by the tingles sent through my body by her obviously hard nipples. I pulled her as tight to me as she did, not wanting to miss a moment, and at the same time, not wanting her to realize just how much desire there was to undress her and explore her petite body with my lips. Another thing that I was never quite sure of, was how many of the couple dozen “flashes” that I received in the last few years were accidental. There were times that I swore they had to be intentional. Coming out after a shower without a towel while I was working on something to help her mom, or a bikini top “slipping” out of place. I got more flashes of her body than I could actually chalk up to accidental events.

Now that she is married and starting her family, those hugs are a thing of the past. I still got hugs, but now those hugs were from the side, pressing her substantially larger milk filled tits into my side instead of into my chest. Not that it made my dick any less hard, I mean I kind of have a thing for sexy milk filled tits, and hers definitely fell in that category. But Em was my wife’s best friend’s daughter, my daughter’s good friend, and my son’s best friend’s sister. With all that in the way there was no way I was going to even hint at what was in my mind, not to mention the significant age difference.

So over the years I let the desire stay hidden away, but still always there. This day though, those desires bubbled toward the surface as both she and I attended a float trip including all of our direct and extended families.

Em showed up in a very skimpy black string bikini, her body looking incredible considering that it had been less than a year since she had given birth. I presumed that the bikini was to show off just how well toned and shaped she had gotten her body back into. I know that I certainly appreciated her showing off all her curves, including her breasts which wiggled so enticingly in the barely adequate black top. Throughout the day I did my best to keep my cock down while also trying to peak at what she was showing.

I assumed it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that her breasts were actually growing as the day progressed. Either that or the black triangles of material covering part of them and attempting to hold them in place were shrinking. By the time illegal bahis we got off the river for the day and the tents set up there was no doubt what was going on. I felt almost stupid at not having thought about it before. She hadn’t brought her daughter, leaving her with grandma, who didn’t want to come canoeing, and her breasts were quite literally brimming with milk. The wet spots on the front of the triangles of cloth were the clear indication that finally brought it to mind. I watched her walk off toward the bathrooms wearing her tiny black top and a pair of satin looking workout shorts as I headed to where the cook grills were being lit.

After hanging around the grills for a while, I headed to the bathrooms to take care of my own relief, wondering if it was going to be private enough to get the other kind of relief I needed or if I was going to have to slip off into the woods that were just behind the bathrooms.

As it turned out, they were not at all private enough for what I needed to take care of, and was exiting the bathrooms to duck into the tree line for a few moments to relieve the load that had been building all day. With my mind already intent on that action, I guess I wasn’t paying attention and nearly walked into Em as she came out of the ladies side.

“Oh shit. Sorry Em!” I muttered, stopping just short of bumping into her.

“Not a problem Mister C.” She replied with a smile on her face, using the same name for me she most of her life. “Where were you headed?”

“Uh…. Back to the camp site.” I answered, my mind not fully engaged yet.

“The sites are back that way.” She said with a crooked grin forming on her face. She leaned closer and whispered to me, “Looks to me like you were going someplace else.”

“Huh? Why would you say that?” I asked, startled that not only was it obvious to her, but she was being brazen enough to say so.

“Oh, just a hunch.” She said as she took hold of the waist band of my swim suit and pulled on it, stepping backwards to lead me around the corner of the bathrooms toward the back side. She held her finger to her lips and guided me quietly to the more secluded side. “You know. I have a really hard time expressing enough milk so my breasts don’t hurt when I don’t have baby around. Would you mind helping me?” She whispered as she reached behind her neck and untied the string holding the top up. The two black triangles of material fell away from her body, catching with the loop around her back and hanging at her waist, her full round breasts more fully on display for me than I had ever seen before.

I really couldn’t help myself, my hands took on a life of their own as they reached out and cupped each magnificent breast, my thumbs rubbing back and forth across each erect nipple, making them dimple her dark areola as they bent to and fro.

“ohhhh god.” She whispered as her hands fumbled with the knot on the string holding my swim suit around me. “I have wanted you to touch me like this for so long.”

I gave her no answer as I stepped slightly to her side and leaned my head down to gently kiss one nipple while stroking the other. My tongue could taste the milk seeping from it, warm and almost sweet. I closed my lips around the tip of her breast and gently sucked her nipple into my mouth, suddenly receiving more of the warm treasure along with a gentle moan from her lips. Her hands pushed my swim suit off my butt, allowing it to slide down my legs until I was naked from the ankles up.

Her hands found my hard cock and wrapped around it, stroking it long and illegal bahis siteleri slow, rubbing the precum that was already leaking from it into the whole shaft. My own hands began roaming again, the one that had slipped around her back sliding down into the back of her shorts, pushing them part way down in the process, and the one caressing her other breast, slipping down her firm stomach and into the front of her shorts. Her hands left my cock long enough to push her shorts down, allowing my hands to now roam freely across her firm round ass and her shaved mound.

Her hands went back to my rock hard shaft as one of my left hand worked between her legs from behind, my finger stroking between her wet lips in search of her inviting tunnel. My right hand found and zeroed in on her clit, sending tingles of lightning through her body with each stroke across the hard nub.

“Oh god. Fuck me….Please fuck me!” She begged in a whisper, grabbing my arms and pulling my hands from her pussy.

I stood up and looked down at her, wondering what she had in mind. I didn’t have long to wait, her flexible gymnasts body easily lifting one leg high and hooking it over my left arm. I lowered myself slightly while she grabbed my cock and aimed it at her pussy, rubbing the head up and down her slit, teasing her clit with the tip before pushing it back so my head was engaged in her tunnel. She let go and pulled herself against me, arching her back and pushing her sopping wet pussy over my fat cock a few inches.

“Oh god you’re so big!” She moaned quietly rocking her hips in time with the short little strokes I started to make, working my cock into her a little bit at a time.

“Oh god.” I mumbled as my head finally reached the end of her sweet tunnel, my body already on overload. I started stroking longer into her now, each stroke slipping out until I was nearly out of her wet pussy before pushing quickly into her again. Each stoke brought a new grunt, squeak, or moan to her lips, and her whole body was quivering. Her nipples leaked milk, some in drips collecting like rain drops and some in small streams that reached out the few inches between us to wet my chest.

“Yes. Oh god I’m going to cum!” She whispered hoarsely as I continued to stroke into her. Her whole body shook and quivered as I continued to stroke into her, knowing my own load was about to unleash its torrent into her.

“YES!” she squeaked as her whole body jerked, her pussy clamping around my cock. I stroked once, twice, a third time, my hands squeezing her tits, covering both of us with her milk, before my own climax was beyond holding back.

“Fuck!” I grunted as I jerked, pumping my cock into her so hard I lifted her from the ground, pinning her against the back of the building. Her arms wrapped around my back and pulled my chest to hers, driving her tits and hard nipples into my chest as our bodies jerked and trembled, emptying my cum deep in her pussy with each jerk of my cock.

“Oh lord.” I whispered as I lowered her back to the ground, my cock still stuffed deeply inside her, twitching gently.

“Oh yes. But you still have to help me express some of this milk now.” She said with a quiet giggle, moving my hands to her breasts. We stood there, my cock shrinking inside her, her hips rocking in pleasure, grinding her clit against me while my hands squeezed and milked her large breasts. We were quite literally covered with her milk as the darkness closed around us.

“oh yes. Just a little more!” she moaned quietly, another orgasm building within her as she canlı bahis siteleri continued to ride my again hardening cock.

“You going to cum again?”

“Oh yes. Just a little more.” She mumbled as she rocked her hips, grinding her clit into the base of my cock as I worked her tits and nipples. “Yes…just there. Oh yes….right there…..Ohhhhhhh” she finished with a squeak, her body once again twitching and trembling as she came, her pussy squeezing my cock pleasantly.

I stood there, gently rubbing her tits and nipples, her milk no longer flowing as it had.

“God that was good. I can’t remember the last time I came twice like that.” She whispered, unhooking her leg from my arm and lowering it so I was trapped within her pussy.

“I have to say, I don’t know when I came that hard either.” I whispered

She laughed quietly. “Glad to know it was as good for you as for me.”

“Yeah. It was.” I replied quietly.

We were interrupted with the sound of voices coming up the trail toward the bathrooms. “Shhhhh. Come with me.” Em whispered as she pushed me back, my hard cock sliding from her and unleashing a small flood of cum down her leg. She bent to pick up her shorts from the ground where they lay after she stepped out of them. “Just bring them.” She whispered to me, as I tried to get my leg into my swim suit.

Holding onto my suit with one leg in and one out, I followed her down a path into the woods. She kept going as the path twisted and turned, finally dumping us out at the edge of the river.

“Here we go.” She said, reaching for my suit and pulling it down my leg and coaxing me to let her pull it off. “We better clean up and you don’t want to go up with a wet suit, do you?”

“Probably not a good idea.” I agreed as she tossed her bikini top into the gravel with her shorts. She waded into the water and crouched down, using small handfuls of water to wash her sexy tits and body. I followed suit, the cold water trying to shrink my still hard cock.

“I hate to let that go to waste!” she whispered, sliding over and reaching for my cock to stroke it gently.

“Probably not a good idea to continue this just now. Besides people missing us, I’m not sure this was exactly right.” I said in a quiet voice.

“Maybe not right, but something we both wanted for a long time. I know you have been looking at my body for years, and I was just waiting for you to make a move, but you never did. I’ve wanted you since I walked in on you in the shower one day. God your cock looked so big and fat. I just wanted to climb in and let you fuck me right there.”

“When was that?” I asked startled.

“Oh remember that night when I stayed the night after Jen and I went out for my seventeenth birthday?”

“I think so. Several of you went out to some party.”

“Uh huh. The next morning I had to go pee bad and I snuck into the bathroom while you were in the shower. I don’t think you even knew I was there. You were way too busy, if you know what I mean.”

“Shit, you watched me jack off in the shower?”

“Uh huh. And I came right with you. If you had opened your eyes you would have seen me standing next to the shower with my hand stuffed in my pussy. Ever since then I have been trying to get you to fuck me, but you never would.”

“I had no idea.” I answered as she got up and stepped to the shore, slipping her shorts back on before standing to look at me.

“Well, now you do.” She flatly. “So don’t forget it.” She said as she turned and walked down the shore, putting her top on as she walked away.

I pulled my suit on and followed her down the shore a short time later, climbing the stairs to the camp area from the river edge, my cock still hard at the thought of her body and the sensations, and also at the open invitation she had left.

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