Sunday morning after a sober Saturday of cinema and it was time for a shower. It was half ten after all, he thought to himself. He pulled his robe off the hook, grabbed a towel and scurried nakedly through to the bathroom and treated himself to a long, hot time under the rose.
Just as he stepped out of the shower, clean and warm, a loud voice rampaged upstairs, past the banister and into the bathroom.
'Oy - lazy bones - the paper's on he sofa, coffee's in the pot and I'm about to start breakfast, get your arse down here.'
'Arse on its way,' he called back down to his wife.
He pulled on a robe, towelled his feet and hair dryish, pottered downstairs, poured a coffee, kissed his wife, slapped her similarly adorned backside playfully and plonked himself on an armchair in the lounge.
'
La vie est dur
', she tutted as she watched him slouch onto the chair, put his coffee down, pick up the paper and go straight for the sport.
'Off to his own little male world of football,' she thought to herself and smiled at boys always being boys. Thirty-five and still as obsessed by a load of overpaid cheats chasing a bag of air around a patch of grass. She would often taunt him with words like this. This time she didn't mention it as she had to butter him up a little.
'Darling', she said, staring at the front of the Observer, 'hate to do this to you, but we've been invited to Stephen's for dinner; I got a text from him this morning. Can't really pass on it for obvious reasons.'
No reply.
'I hate to subject you to that stuck-up cow as well.' Still no reply.
'
Geoff
!'
She paused, hand on hips, as her husband placidly cocked the Sunday paper to peer at her from over it, like a General surveying the landscape from behind his bunker of current affairs.
'Did you just hear what I said?'
Her right foot tapped on the floor now, but the flicker of a smile on her lips betrayed the little game of stereotype they played.
'Cows, love. We're going to see your parents at the farm I suppose.' He bent back to the paper, grinning to himself and waited for the physical onslaught. It came via a wooden spoon being poked into the paper.
'Oy! Don't crease the paper, woman.' The grin wiped from his face in a piece of Gielgud-standard acting.
'Well if you listened to a word I said rather than burying your head in the bloody paper...'
He looked up again and laid the paper on his lap, a provocative look on his face.
'Are you telling me I should be concentrating on boring domestic stuff rather than important international news that could be affecting the whole world?'
She stared, open mouthed, the role-play in full swing.
'Is it more important to know that we're going to see Stephen,' he continued, 'and that po-faced cow of wife, than about a brave French woman and her Colombian nightmares?'
He laughed at the look on her face, she ripped the paper from his lap to jump on it and start a soft-fisted pummelling.
'You're a bad, bad, man, Geoffrey Simpleton.' She always bastardised his surname in times of banter.
'Well, Sally Simplewoman, I seem to be brains enough for your tiny intellect, so all is well with the world.
N'est ce pas?
'
She grabbed his wrists and straddled him, her face against his, wriggling into his lap.
'Ooh, playing it tough are we?' he asked.
'I was looking for hard rather than tough, she hissed through clenched teeth,' and wriggled more to pull his robe away with her legs.
'Oh yeah? Think I can manage that on a Sunday morning when I have all his sport to read?' He teased her; liked to make her a little fiery.
She laughed.
'I know your game, mister, pretending you're not interested, but I think that the cock I can feel starting to grow underneath me is betraying your true feelings.'
'Nah, I'm not bothered, I don't think I could get it up this morning.'
'Shut the fuck up and get your teeth on my nipples.'
'How can I do that when you're pinning me down?'
She released her grip on him and leaned back to undo her robe. Her nipples immediately stiffened against the cool air of the room and she grabbed her willing partner's hands to push him back against the sofa and pushed her breasts to his face. She had full, round, heavy breasts with small nipples that pointed down and were surrounded by large, light brown areolae; breasts that Geoff had always loved and been turned on by. It never failed to get him aroused pleasuring her by touching them and it always got her wet very quickly.
He grew hard as he traced circles with his tongue round the nipples and felt the heat of her exposed pussy on his body with the rhythm of her hips on him. She reached behind her back and grabbed his erection to guide it into her, ready very quickly from the sudden change in mood.
'Fuck me quickly, bad man, I'm hungry for food as well as your cock.'
'Ask and ye shall receive,' he grunted and thrust upwards to force her to gasp, as his cock speared into her. The exhalation was cut short as he clamped his mouth over hers and her gasp turned into a happy moan. She reached her hand behind again to squeeze his balls and wriggle against his thrusts. The thrusts grew, to force her to grab him round the neck and they slammed themselves into each other.
They moved against one other, a position that pleased both of them immensely and increased speed rapidly.
'I wish I could see your arse bouncing up and down now on my cock,' he spat out between breaths.
'Maybe we should video ourselves,' she countered through moans that had become higher pitched and more rapid. 'I'd like to see your cock forcing itself into my holes.'
She knew he was turned on by the idea of watching them on film and so was she. Then she added, knowing it would send him over the edge, 'We could get Annie to film us.'
'Oh shit!' he moaned, 'don't say that if you want me to last any longer.
'I don't need longer.' The truth was that
she
was turned on by the idea. She started to feel the orgasm rip though her; she moaned long and loud. Geoff closed his eyes, pictured Annie, her impish face against a camera watching the two of them fuck and felt his cum start to spill from his cock.
They stayed locked together in order to regain their breath; the result of their fast and furious lovemaking running rivulets down her leg. She slowly leaned back and ran her finger up her thigh, scooped some and tasted while grinning.
'Like the idea of that, you dirty boy?' she asked.
'I'm taking the fifth.'
'You can't, you're in England and you're English.'
'Dammit.'
'Would you admit it if I told you I like the idea?'
The fact that she could feel him physically growing so quickly again told her all she needed to know.
'Dirty bastard,' she laughed and hopped off, scooped more juices and ran before he could rebuke her. He followed her upstairs and pulled her robe off, dropped his from his shoulders and pulled her into the shower. They soaped each other where necessary, a mini-wash to rinse away their furious lovemaking and as she soaped the length of his erection she admired it.
'I always loved the way you could get hard again straight afterwards.'
She soaped it slowly and let the water take away the lather before taking it in her mouth, not really wanting her hair wet again, but unable to resist feeling the soft skin of his hardness in her mouth. She inched the member deeper and deeper into herself, and he smiled at her ability to take so much cock, until she retreated, just the head in her mouth; she sucked hard, tongue swirling around.
She stood up and, on tip-toe, kissed him tenderly, felt his penis pressing against her. 'I'd best go cook.'
'Oh thanks, get me into this state then fuck off!'
'Go have a wank and think about Annie,' she giggled as she pushed the shower off and left the cubicle.
'Think she'd go for it?' he asked, his erection staying hard as he forced the fantasy along.
'Ask her,' Sally said, knowing full well that was never going to happen.
'Yeah, right,' he replied. He leaned against the inside of the cubicle, stroked his cock and watched her dry her hair. She looked at his body, still pretty good for a thirty-five year old; slim, dark haired, big hands, clean shaven, five-ten, but quite broad.
'She'd say yes if
I
asked her,' said Sally.
'I hardly think the idea of her seeing my hard-on is going to have her salivating at the mouth. Or wet anywhere else.'
'Yes,' replied Sally, stopping the towelling for a moment and looking at her husband to see the reaction to the revelation about to tumble from her lips, 'but you're not privy to one important fact.'
He looked puzzled and raised an eyebrow, Roger Moore style.