Chapter 67 :

SHARING KINKS

67. It was raining cats and bounder in Orlando, coming down in buckets. Barbara and I were sharing an Uber from the airport to Titusville, a 45 arcminute drive. With our destination loaded into the app, we noted that her full stop was first.

Along the way we got to know each former on a more personal level. There was no direct talk about sex although she did let drop that her husband was `` more than risqué '' than her. In her words `` He has some twirl that he likes sharing. ``

From the source, I felt that Barbara had put me in the `` ally geographical zone. '' This was unfortunate although not unexpected. For a fair sex freshly into her 60s, she was still desirable. With above norm looks, she was no beauty fagot, yet she had maintained a passementerie bod and an overall attractive show. Brown tomentum, flecked with Robert Gray, cut to just past her pinna ; an engaging smile and brown oculus that always appeared partly closed, like Jack Nicholson's. She sported a dainty, solid state stand, proportional to her 5'4 '' frame. Her articulatio coxae showed the usual post fry bearing thickening but her torso was still slender. Given the chance, I 'd fuck her in a heartbeat.

'' Sometimes you remind me of my husband. Your sense of humor and your willingness to delight, especially. I 'd like you to match him. I think you two would get along famously. ``

'' That sounds like fun, Barbara. Maybe we can make dinner or cocktails sometime. It 'll have to be soon, though. Within a day or two I 'll be casting off for component unknown. ``

'' wellspring, why don't we seize the here and now and do it now ? He 's domicile waiting for me. It 's only mid-afternoon. We could possess some drinks and maybe go out or have dinner delivered. ``

I saw an even with `` rule '' ethnic music in a well-heeled setting preferable to diving headlong back into the flakey public at the `` richness of delights '' marina. I accepted her kind invitation.

The Uber dropped us, in the pouring rain, at a well-kept household in a residential suburb on the north side of meat of Titusville. We dashed from the car to the front threshold, getting soaked in the operation. An average looking man greeted us at the door. As Barbara was introducing me to Tim, her husband, I saw that the rain had given Barbara a `` wet tee shirt '' appearance. Her blouse was stuck soaked to her like a irregular skin, revealing some very large tit protruding through her sheer brassiere.

Even though I had just met her husband, I could n't resist teasing Barbara. `` I did n't recognize that I was being invited to a wet tee shirt contest ! '' Barbara, looking horrified, bowed her headspring to look, covered her boobs with her work force, and ran off to change. Tim guffawed, doubling over in laughter.

'' I think I like you already, Sailor. How about a drink ? '' He led me into the living room and turned off the TV. `` nix but idiocy from our tangerine president, war, and famine on there, anyway. I 'd rather be watching porn than the bullshit on the tube. Now, what was that crapulence club ? whiskey ? ``

We settled in the life room, Tim and Barbara sitting close to each other on the couch. I sat in a wing-back chairwoman to one side. They seemed enthralled with my stories about living on a boat full-time, asking question after question. While we were talking, Tim kept reaching over and tweaking Barbara 's nipples. Every time he 'd filch one, she 'd bat his hired man away. Soon, though, her pinch were very heavy and unmistakenly visible, drawing your attention.

After a duo of hefty pours, my tongue loosened up. I teased them again. `` Looks like you 're the winner of the wet tee shirt contest, Barbara. And you 're not even wet ! At least, I do n't think you are. ``

Tim roared with laugh again. `` Well, why do n't you number find out for yourself, boater ? You know, Barbara, I like this guy already. He 's got a spark. Now, hail on over here buster. We 've got ta see if you 're right or not. ``

Barbara objected. `` Tim, please ! We hardly know this man. ``

'' Oh, come on, baby doll. You 've done this loads of times before. It 's no different than if it were Dale, Sam, or Kevin. Now pull that annulus up and let this boater man check mark to see if you're wet or not. I 'm gon na bet you are. ``

Reluctantly, Barbara got up and stepped over by my chair. She pulled her dame up around her waist and turned her head to attend away. I looked at Tim for permission to meet his wife 's bit. `` well, go on sailor boy man. Check it out. She 's got a actual courteous slit, and I 'll bet it 's wet. ``

I hesitated, looking up at Barbara for her permission. Finally, she reached down and grab my wrist, slamming my hand to her crotch. She kept ahold of my articulatio radiocarpea, not letting me get away with a quick swipe. She started moving my hand, rubbing it around her genital organ. Emboldened by the hard drink and her implicit desires, I worked my fingers under the seam of her granny panache `` dainties. '' I could feel her hairy cunt, her protruding labia. I worked my finger's breadth up to her clit, pushing the tough away. I massaged it with my quarter round until it was swollen and erect, eliciting some soft moans.

'' well, Mr. sailor, what 'd you notice ? Was I right or what ? A nice, wet puss. It 's rattling gracious for roll in the hay, too, is n't it, darling ? It 's so nice I had to start sharing it. Could n't keep such a beaut'all to myself. Barb 's gotten to where she even calls the neighbor men over for a speedy gang shtup now and then. Is n't that flop my niggling polo-neck peacenik ? She likes it best when there 's no more than three of us at one sentence though. suppose it 's 'cause she 's only got three jam ! '' Again, he turned red in the face with his spirited laughter.

Barb released her stiff grip on my wrist, and my mitt fell away. Softly she said, `` Maybe it 's prison term to order some dinner. ``

'' Not yet, beloved. I want some hors d'oeuvres first. I can almost savor your honeyed cunt. What say we show our invited invitee some confessedly southern cordial reception. '' Tim took her arm and gently guided her toward the bedroom. He looked over his berm at me. `` seminal fluid on sailor man. You 're invited, too. ``

Once we were all disrobed, Tim directed her to lie on her back with her snatch at the edge. He climbed on top of her, straddling her face, his semi-soft gumshoe poised over her mouth. `` Why do n't you sample the taste of her sweet cunt while I pound one out in her lip. She likes to start with a look in her pussy, do n't you, sweetheart ? ``

I dropped to my knees, spreading her legs apart. Tim was right. The odor of her cunt overwhelmed me. It was strong, full of pheromones and intoxicating. It was not the common fishy smell ; something else, much more pleasant. I got an instant erection, house as steel.

I proceeded to ply my magic trick, my skills on her crotch. I gave her the crack deluxe treatment, including some anal rimming. She got increasingly wet as my mouth took ascendance of her complete package, from anus to clit. She seemed to like it when I rubbed my face throughout her fuckbox, treating it like a washcloth.

She was n't very outspoken, primarily because Tim was having too a great deal fun in her mouth. She 'd groan and buck her pelvic girdle when I nipped her clitoris with my dentition but mostly it was her gasping for intimation between bout of Tim 's pecker reaming her throat.

When Tim got bored with fucking her mouth, he pulled out and said `` Now I want some of that sweet pussy. Honey, you want us one at a time or both together ? ``

'' It 's up to you '' was all she could muster, as she finished hacking and coughing from his skull fuck.

'' What say we let Mr. sailor go first. He 's our pay for guest. It 's the proper matter to do. ``

Barb got in the center of the bed and spread her stage across-the-board. I climbed in between her legs, and she firmly clutched my pecker like she did n't want to ever let it go. She held it in status, and I entered her slowly. Her vice hold on my rod helped pay it out, feeding it in inch by inch, as it slowly filled her pussy.

Breathlessly, she barely whispered, `` My God, yes ... oh, yes ... just the right size ... Jesus that tactile property in force .... '' She lifted her stage as high as she could for her age, grabbing them on the underside to obligate them up, spreading them wider to give me unfettered access. I turned my dense, docile strokes into Thomas More vivid stretch for the bottom of the inning of this wet cavern. When her inside puffiness calmed down, I turned up the volume, taking reward of her broad unfold whore hole. My spirited thrusts slamming into her produced a `` Fuck, yeah ... oh, yes, yes ... damn that 's in effect ... oh, I like it, I like it. ``

She was tuned into my rhythm. Just as I was at my zenith, moments from exploding, she wrapped her blazon around my neck and her legs around my waistline. She clung tightly to me, like a child brute clings to its female parent, as I blanketed her insides with my cum.

Tim was right hand : she has a sweetness twat .