"Damn! I promised Tony in Chicago that I'd get him a spreadsheet for his meeting tomorrow -- my phone's probably awash with frantic messages! I'll be back as soon as I can."
My husband, Bob, knew Tony could get hyper, so told me that was fine. He was chatting away with his pals Laurie and Chip about old films, which wasn't really my thing. Since Speedos don't have pockets, I fished my keys out of the one in my shirt, leaving it and my book behind. These were a shinier gray pair, which I think goes well with my graying hair and blue eyes. Bob likes to tease me about some of my skimpier ones, which I wear mostly to gay locations or events. He claims he's restricted to traditional trunks being a few pounds overweight, but I'm fairly certain it's his thick cock, even soft, that's the issue. Anyway...
I managed to get off easy with Tony as he was on a call, so a matter of sending the data, and his return text "Just what I need -- thanks!" Before heading back down, I checked on Bob's 55th birthday present delivery status, as there were only a few more days (my 45th was almost exactly six months ago). The pink triangle earrings were on schedule; kind of an inside joke as I had an old pair of interlocking male sign ones, so he's sometimes suggested wearing ones like that for shock value. Between my accountant-guy with glasses looks, and husky bald grandpa Bob, even today we're often not seen as a couple, but a couple of straight married guys with wedding rings. Bob does usually wear his heavy tit rings, but they're not really noticeable under a shirt. For the record, he's never had hetsex, and I gave it up over 20 years ago.
Just as I was about to open the door, there was a knock. Without looking through the peephole, I instinctively answered it, to face Laurie. Puzzled as to why she was there, and why she had changed into a hippie-ish yellow Indian print skirt and opaque-enough cotton shirt with no bra, I let her enter. She sat on the couch, indicating I should sit beside her, saying, "I wanted to go over a couple of things for Bob's party. Not a surprise party, but I've been second-guessing myself about the color of the shirt I got him and tomorrow it's be too late to change the color!" We quickly agreed on tan being the better option matching the hair on his sides and thick stache. She went on to say, "He really ought to be more bold on his choice of swimwear like you are. Hopefully, we can get him to come around soon!" Then things took a COMPLETELY different turn. She began asking me about women, did I "at least like it" back then? Do I think about it all? Kind of like a sexuality student survey of something.
When I told her that I had liked it well enough, but the desire pretty much evaporated when I started noticing men, she began fondling my speedo pouch, whispering "It all comes back." And it did! A blur, but moments later we were necking and petting like teenagers. She murmured "I told you!" between kisses, and I mean DEEP ones. I wasn't thinking, I was just... doing.
She unfastened the skirt for me to realize there were no panties, just her trim pussy. As she stroked my stiff cock, I felt instinctively for her clit, having NO other thought than getting her off. She removed her hand as the first round came. She exclaimed (not that loudly!) "I knew it!" and then put her plan into action, though not what you might've thought.
"You'd like to come yourself, I can see that. Let's see if we can manage something to give you a 'special' one?" Barely a minute later, I was jerking off, but with her snatch on my face. My tongue sucked that clit while I edged myself. I wasn't thinking during any of this, just reacting. When she said, "You're a natural at eating pussy!" that made me slurp all the more frantically. I'm not sure whether I actually said "Oh, hell yes!" out loud, or simply thought it. Shortly after, in a timing miracle we came together as I couldn't edge any longer.
