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Dave and I had had a fantastic life together and were on the long run in to retirement, when our lives changed, twice, in ways we could never have dreamed.
We were both in our mid-50s and had been married for over 30 years; with our 2 sons grown up, married and with their own children; our home all sorted just the way we wanted it, with a large and very private back garden; a great group of friends and generally good neighbours; and both of us with well-paying jobs we enjoyed, that would ensure we had good occupational pensions when retirement finally arrived.
Oh and the sex had always been and still was great. We had both looked after our bodies and we made great use of them.
Dave is 6ft 2″, 14st wet-through and in great physical shape. One aspect of his great physical shape is his lovely long, thick cock. I call it his battery – because it’s ever ready.
I am 5ft 7″, with a slightly top-heavy 36-22-32 figure, very sensitive nipples you could hang your hat on and a pussy that just loves being licked, sucked, fingered and fucked. I keep my pubes nicely trimmed up top, but regularly shave round my clit and pussy lips to make sure Dave can see when I’m ready for him.
The private back garden meant we spent a lot of time sunbathing nude and fucking like rabbits on the sun loungers.
We’d been together for well over 30 years and I honestly believe neither of us has had sex with anyone else in all that time. I know I haven’t and I’m 100% confident Dave hasn’t either.
It felt like we had it all and we looked forward to the next 30+ years together.
Then we won the lottery, the jackpot, all on our own and our first major life change happened.
It was a single roll over night, so we won just over £5,000,000. We settled some on the boys and our grandchildren (current and future); we bought a small cottage in Windermere and a boat to go in the marina; we booked ourselves on a top-end round-the-world cruise (which we didn’t enjoy – too posh for us) and we debated, long and hard, about whether to sell our home and buy something grander.
In the end, we decided not to – we loved the place and we had great friends and neighbours – so we just had some changes, including a new garden room, with picture windows onto the garden and a log-burning stove to keep us warm in winter.
We also had a “Tub House” built in the garden. Like a pool house, but just with a hot tub, rather than a swimming pool.
Of course, we also retired. However much we’d loved our jobs, the motivation to set the alarm for 6:30am every day just disappeared, when we no longer needed the money.
Retirement was so good and the changes/additions to our home made it the perfect place for us. Yes we still fucked in the garden, but we also now fucked in the tub house and in the garden room. For example …
Two years or so later, one very cold, wet and dreary October early afternoon, we were sat in the garden room, watching and listening to the rain hitting the ground and our windows. Dave decided to light the log burner, as it was chilly and, true to form, he soon had it too hot for clothes and so we were naked, snuggled together on a sofa, warmed by the fire and looking out at the awful weather.
His arm round my shoulder put his right hand on my right breast and he was soon very gently stroking my breast, my armpit (drives me wild) and my swelling nipple. He couldn’t see, but I was almost instantly wet and would be asking him to do something about that.
Slightly turned to him, my right hand naturally fell on his thick cock and, like my nipples, it was swelling, hardening and, I was sure, getting very sensitive. I love the way he shaves the shaft of his cock, so it is so smooth and hairless. It makes blow jobs much nicer than dealing with a horrible hairy shaft, trust me fellas.
Before he became fully erect and too long for my mouth, I leaned forward, gently taking his cock into my mouth and sliding my lips down its full length, until my nose was pressed up against his balls.
With my right hand, I gently fondled his balls, feeling the weight of them, watching his sack react to my touch. I reached down and with the tip of my middle finger, I began to caress his tight little arse hole, using a bit of saliva to lubricate it and enable my finger tip to gently probe into that very private hole.
His cock began to thicken and lengthen even more and I slowly lifted my head, leaving my lips on his shaft and my tongue playing havoc with his end, probing the hole and edging all around his hot purple head.
Straightening slightly, he moved his arm round my back to where his fingers could just reach my, by now, gushing pussy. He gave a slight moan as he realised just how wet I was, then took a well-juiced finger and returned the compliment by massaging and probing my arse hole.
We both love arse play and rimming but, strangely, have never tried anal sex. However, we both like a nice fat butt plug and, for me, my most intense orgasms have come from a good fucking whilst illegal bahis my arse hole is being distended by the monster butt plug I like. We have talked about me trying a DP one day but, as yet, it’s something we’ve only talked about.
I got Dave to lay down on the rug and knelt over him, my wet pussy hovering above his eager tongue and my hand and mouth latched onto his now fully erect cock. I know size isn’t everything – you need all that emotional connection/real love shit – but if you’ve got those anyway and your man’s got a 7½ inch cock you can’t get your fingers fully round, you are one lucky lady and I was a very lucky lady.
Dave had pulled my hips down and was lapping at my cunt and clit. My first orgasm was building and, as I felt his middle finger again slipping into my arse, I exploded, crying out in sheer ecstasy. My cunt gushed juice all over Dave and my clit was pulsing with a life of its own. My arse was trying to close but couldn’t, because of Dave’s thick finger and this was making my orgasm even more intense and prolonged.
Dave then moved his hands to my ribs, gently lifting me until I was sitting upright and I knew what was going to happen next. The new position put my tight little arsehole right over Dave’s mouth and his tongue reached up to probe into that pinky-brown and very sensitive hole. I moved my feet to either side of his head and crouched down, as though I was having a piss in the woods, my arse hole over his mouth, my cunt free for my fingers to play with.
With Dave’s tongue up my arse and my fingers rubbing my clit, my second orgasm was even quicker and more explosive than the first, with tremors throughout my body, my cunt continuing to gush and my arse now being held open by Dave’s tongue. I screamed and pitched forward, my legs unable to hold me through such an orgasm, and was lucky not to put my eye out on Dave’s monster cock.
I knelt there whimpering, slowly coming down from those two quick-fire orgasms, with Dave gently stroking me, understanding I needed some time to come down from my highs, before he took me back up there.
I noticed his cock was now almost bubbling with pre-cum and took the head into my mouth, licking the sweet and salty liquid, swallowing it down in the way I’d swallowed pints of Dave’s spunk over the years.
I slowly moved down his body, my cunt now throbbing and aching to be filled by Dave’s monster cock. I turned to face him and, using my very wet cunt, pressed his cock down to his belly and started to slide up and down on the shaft. The slick sound of my wet cunt sliding up and down his shaft was such a turn on and the feel of that hard cock rasping against my cunt lips and my clit was to die for.
His cock head and shaft were glistening with my juices and so, when I eased up to let him in, his lovely big fat cock slid in without any trouble. Slowly, I lifted and dropped, his cock sliding in and out, his fingers dipping into the juices which were squirting out of me and taking them up to his eager mouth.
“Dave, I’m cumming again. For God’s sake, fuck me hard and fill me with your cream. Please don’t make me wait.”
At my command he started thrusting upwards to meet me, his thrusts were getting harder and harder and my third orgasm was building. He was pistoning in and out, his hands gripping and spreading my buttocks, his cock smashing in and out with demonic strength.
“Dave, I’m nearly there. Oh, Dave I am there, I’m cumming. Fucking hell you stud bastard. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Aaaaaaaagh! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck. Come for me babe, fill meeeeeeeeeee.”
With one final thrust upward, he lifted me up off the floor, impaled on his root and I felt his cock burst inside me. Burst after burst of hot, creamy white spunk, filling me up and overflowing back down, past his cock, gushing onto his balls and his neatly trimmed pubes.
I collapsed onto him, tears springing from my eyes, as I thought about how lucky I was to be married to a man would could still fuck me like that, giving me three orgasms in less than half an hour, after over 30 years together.
We lay together for a few minutes, his cock slowly diminishing, my cunt slowly leaking our combined juices onto him and, past him, onto our rug (thankfully a washable rug). I leaned up and kissed him. Amazingly, our first kiss of the session, but this was a kiss to say “Thank you”, not a kiss to inflame passions and say “Come and get me tiger.”
I heard Dave ask “Do you want me to clean you up?” and I knew what he meant. He loved to lick and suck all his juices from my saturated cunt – which was normally the prelude to another good fuck. I’d be doing the same for him, licking and sucking our combined juices from his cock, balls and thighs. We both loved that unique taste of his spunk and my cunt juice.
“No love, you’ve done more than enough. Thanks but I think I’ve had enough for now – though I might change my mind later. I’m going to clean myself up and make us both a nice cup of tea. We can carry on watching the illegal bahis siteleri rain for a bit and then I’ll make us something to eat.”
It may not sound very romantic but, after 30 years of marriage, it was romantic enough for us and, 20 mins later, both having showered, we were sat back on the sofa, cups of tea in hand, the rain still lashing down and people called Noah in great demand.
The garden room was still roasting hot, so I was basically just wearing PJs – a thin lace-trimmed vest and tiny little sleeping pants – while Dave was in a t-shirt and his sleeping shorts. Clearly, neither of us intended going out at all and, wearing so little, I guess I was half expecting more sex before bed.
Suddenly, there was a thunderous knocking at our front door and, though we didn’t know it then, our lives were going to change again. I glanced at the clock and it was half past three. Who on earth would be knocking, like that, at this time?
We rushed through the house to the front door, unlocked it and opened it to see Cher (I know!) our near-neighbour’s 18 year old daughter, in school uniform, soaked to the skin and with her long dark hair plastered all over her.
“I’m sorry,” she said “I don’t have lessons on Friday afternoons, but I’ve locked myself out, mum won’t be home for another hour and I’m soaked and freezing. Can you help? Can I come in?”
I said our neighbours were “generally good”, but Cher’s family were the exception. Her mum, Trish, had had a very acrimonious and violent split from Cher’s dad, who had left and, so far as I knew, had never been seen since. If I’m honest, the family was “trailer trash” but they must have had money from somewhere, because they were living in our luxury cul-de-sac and there was little we could do about them.
The mum worked somewhere in town (we assumed) and her two children – Cher and her 16 year old brother Tyson – became real nuisances in the neighbourhood. In fact, six months previously, Tyson had been sent to a Youth Offenders Institution, for a third breaking & entry offence, and he appeared to be heading for a life of crime/prison/crime/prison/etc.
His sentence seemed to have quietened Cher and the word on the street was that she was expected to do well in her ‘A’ levels and be offered a university place. It was unlikely her mother or Cher could afford university but good ‘A’ level results should, at least, get her a decent starter job.
Having said that, her 18th birthday party, just 2 months ago, was a bit of a nightmare for us and our neighbours in the cul-de-sac. The police were called when lads were spotted climbing over fences, pissing in people’s gardens, trampling the flower beds and we heard there had been arrests for “possession”.
But, now, here she was, soaked to the skin and asking us for help. We couldn’t say “No” so asked her in.
We have a small downstairs guest bedroom, with an en-suite shower room and I took her there, while Dave went and put the kettle on, to make her a warm drink.
She’d been in their garden for over an hour, getting absolutely soaked, so I persuaded her to strip off her wet clothes and take a nice warm shower, while I tried to dry her clothes and to find something of mine she could borrow. The best I could come up with was an old, but still thick and warm dressing gown.
When I got back down to the guest room, Cher was positively gushing about the room, the shower, the different soaps, shampoos and conditioners – and how thick and soft our towels were. Whilst it all seemed very ordinary to us, for Cher, it was like she was in a luxury suite in a palace.
She was wrapped in a towel and so I leant over and dropped the dressing gown on the bed. As I did so, I realised Cher was staring, intently, at my chest. I glanced down and realised why. In bundling up her wet clothes and carrying them to the utility room, I’d got my vest wet and it was still damp but, much more noticeably, my coat-peg nipples had hardened with the coolness and were clearly visible, poking through the thin material.
“Mrs Johnson, you have fantastic tits and those nipples are to die for. I’ve seen lots of tits in the changing room at school, but I think yours are the best I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you Cher. Maybe you should just call me Val? When you’re dry and you’ve put the dressing gown on, just come through the kitchen to the garden room, where we’ve a log fire burning and it’s nice and cosy.”
I turned and walked out, my head in a whirl. Cher was the first female ever to compliment me on my tits. At 36C they are a nice size and still have some life left in them, plus I’ve always had these amazing nipples. Cher’s comment had caused a buzz in me like no other I’d ever felt. I was 53 and here was an 18 year old girl practically drooling over my tits.
Even when I was younger, I’d never tried it with a girl but I found myself wondering what she’d think if she saw my tits without the vest, or held them in her hands or sucked my amazing nipples with that young mouth, licked canlı bahis siteleri them with her tongue. By the time I got back to the garden room, I was as horny as hell and I knew my pussy lips were swelling up and that juice was starting to leak from my inflamed cunt.
“Are you all right love?” I heard Dave ask, as though from a thousand miles away. I looked over at him. He was still just in his t-shirt and sleeping shorts and the shape of his meaty cock was clearly visible.
“Erm, yeah. I just need to sit down and dry off this vest.”
“Bloody hell girl, look at your nipples! What have you been doing out there? Has Cher gone now?”
“No, Mr Johnson, I haven’t gone, but you’re right. Val’s nipples are amazing and I have to say your cock bulge looks pretty impressive too.”
Cher had walked in, as Dave was half-turned to stare at me and comment on my nipples. He turned back to face her and there we were, a strange tableau – two mid-fifties horny buggers, who were shagged out after having great sex together, and an 18 year old who looked as though she wanted to join in. For a moment no one spoke, but then Cher floored us both.
“It smells of sex in here. When I say that, I’ve never actually had sex but, it smells like my room after I’ve been fingering myself. So, I reckon you two had been shagging just before I arrived, which accounts for the minimal clothing, the smell of wet cunt in the air and that damp patch on the rug. Am I right?”
There was no denying it. We weren’t exactly caught with our pants down, in flagrante delicto, but we were pretty close. We burst out laughing, nodded and I said “Yes, you’ve got us girl. It’s a fair cop. We’ve been enjoying ourselves, while the fire has been warming us and the rain has been lashing down. Dave shagged the arse off me and, if you hadn’t knocked, we’d probably both be asleep by now.”
“Oh, so I need to arrive earlier next week, if I want to see some action?”
“Whoa. Hold on up there, little britches,” which is one of Dave’s favourite film quotes “who said anything about wanting you to see some action?”
Looking him right in the eye, Cher slowly undid the belt on the dressing gown and let it fall open. She was gorgeous. Taller than me, at about 5ft 9in and slimmer with A or B cup titties, topped off by very prominent nipples. She had a lovely face, beautiful dark blue eyes and the cutest little completely hairless cunt, with her clit erect and proudly displaying itself.
“Are you saying you don’t like this, Dave?
Are you saying you’re not man enough for a 2-woman session, Dave?
Are we a bit past it, are we Dave?
I don’t think so. Your shorts are telling me you like what you see.”
I looked and, sure enough, Dave’s cock was ignoring his marital vows and trying to burst out of his shorts. I was sure that, if she looked at me, Cher would notice a very damp patch on the front of my sleeping pants. I hoped she wouldn’t turn, but she did and, yes, she smiled when she saw my soaked pants.
“Val, you too! I can see why I’ve heard this place called “The Warren”. You two are fucking shagtastic.”
Dave was totally flummoxed, so it was down to me.
“Cher, thank you love, but please cover up. Yes, Dave’s cock is ready for more action and so is my pussy, thanks to you, but Dave and I need to talk about this. We’ve been married for over 30 years and I don’t think either of us has ever had sex with anyone else in all that time.
So, your clothes will be dry by now. Why not get dressed, toddle off home and, if you want, we’ll see you here next Friday at about half one?”
“Tell you what,” Cher replied “you can watch today, but you can’t touch.”
With that she widened her stance and dropped her right hand to her pussy. The slick sound as she slipped her middle finger inside herself told me how turned on she was and she began a fast and furious masturbation.
Juice was flying from her fingers as she approached orgasm. Then, a pink flush spread across her chest and neck, as she started to tremble, her knees shaking, her breath coming in gasps. As her orgasm began to hit home she began a high-pitched keening which rose to a full-blown scream, as she collapsed to the floor.
“Fucking hell, I’ve just cum.”
I looked over and, sure enough, Dave’s cock, sticking out of the leg of his shorts, had emptied a load of spunk all over his thigh.
He looked at me and said “I never even touched it. Honest. It just came all by itself.”
I knew how he felt and was nervous that just by standing up, I’d make myself cum too. Still, enough’s enough, I had to get Cher out, so Dave and I could talk. We had some serious talking to do and I wanted another shag first.
“C’mon love, let’s get you dressed and off home. Your mum should be back by now and, look, it’s even stopped raining while we’ve been getting to know each other.”
I brought her clothes from the utility room and she was strangely shy as she got herself dressed. Perhaps her orgasm had knocked all her bravado for six? Anyway, soon enough she was dressed and, looking out at the front, I saw her mum’s car in their drive. She left but, before she did, I made her promise that she would come to see us next Friday, perhaps a bit earlier than today.
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