Big Jugs And Fountains Of Gold

Big Jugs and Fountains of Gold

Back before 2001, I lived in Melbourne for five turbulent years working for one of the major banks. I became good friends with a colleague of mine who lived close by and we regularly cruised the bars searching for tail.

One Friday in late October 1999, Brett came to my place, and we walked to the local Irish pub which was, as usual, packed! During the evening, we struck up a conversation with two women, Donna and Kellie, who were several years our senior. We got on like houses on fire and it was clear that Brett and Kellie were hooking up. Donna was more reticent, but it was clear that she was attracted to me.

At the end of a cracking night of drinks and dancing, we decamped to my place for a final nightcap before Kellie was driving Donna home and Brett to her place. I tried enticing Donna by kissing the back of her neck which she reacted to positively and we exchanged some pecks on the lips, but she kept on whispering that she could go no further despite confessing to liking me.

Next Monday, Brett confirmed the obvious that her and Kellie enjoyed a wild weekend of debauched sex. He let slip why Donna was holding back. It turned out that she was in a long-term relationship with a guy that treated her badly. Brett said my kisses electrified her and that she suddenly felt desired. Would I be interested in meeting Donna on Tuesday for a drink?

I met Donna at the Irish pub that is twenty metres from my home. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me sitting at a booth close by the door. We hugged and I bought her a drink.

"You're looking well," I complimented her.

"Thanks," Donna beamed, "Looking chipper yourself."

The conversation flowed easily and confirmed the chemistry together. I steered clear of her unhappy domestic situation which she eventually sorted out over the course of two years.

I did not want a particularly late night on the booze, and Donna was driving so when I asked if she wanted another drink, her response floored me.

"No. I'd rather suck your cock instead."

"Then follow me," I replied, growing instantly hard.

At my place, we fucked hard and I filled her neglected cunt twice with boiling semen. After that first encounter, we developed a friends-with-benefits arrangement that skirted easily around her domestic situation. However, for the next two years until I left Melbourne, for Donna the term 'friend' gradually blurred from the platonic.

From 2001 to 2008 while I lived on the west coast, we kept in touch through the "magic" of Facebook and caught up with each other biannually for a week of hard sex and drinking.

After 2008, I noticed a distinct cooling in our friendship. Donna changed her Facebook profile photo, and she looked stunning. I sent her a message saying that she looked radiant and that's when I found out that Donna had found herself a new bloke. I had no problem with that and was happy for her. We weren't exclusive by any means and I think Donna came to the realization that it was time to consign our "benefits" status to the history books.

In winter 2018, I was sitting at an Irish bar one Saturday night in Sydney, serendipitously, and trawling through Facebook when I came across a Messenger request from two years earlier that went completely unnoticed.

The request was from Donna, she was online and looked as good now as a decade earlier. I clicked on the 'Accept' button and waited.

And waited.

Three months later, Donna finally got in touch. All the old charm was there, and we spent hours tapping a conversation late into many an evening. I learned that her marriage to the bloke she met had fallen apart but not before she had given birth to a boy.

"You got any plans to visit me in Melbourne?" She asked after many evenings of 'sexting'.

"No," I replied, "But I could make some."

"I think you should," Donna teased, "My pussy is aching for you."

"What about your other holes?"

"Ha, cheeky," Was her reply, "I only have two."

"That's not true though, is it?"

"We did it once," Donna conceded, "While I enjoyed it, it ended badly for your couch."

That was true, the unfortunate mess required some serious upholstery remediation, and we never engaged in anal sex again.

"Yeah, but I know how to prevent that from happening again."

"The answer is no anal," Donna chuckled, "I'm not taking your cock back there."

"Fair enough," I surrendered, "Plenty of other nasty stuff to enjoy."

"That's for sure."

Over the next week, we discussed a plan for me to visit Donna in Melbourne. To maximise the sexy time, Donna arranged for her son to spend the time with her grandmother, and I would stay at Donna's house in the affluent bayside suburb of Mordialloc.

I flew to Melbourne on the Thursday night and when I exited the terminal, the heavens opened with a massive downpour - typical weather for the city. By the time, I got to Mordialloc railway station it was almost 10 PM.

Donna greeted me and drove us to her home. Her son was home but sleeping in his bedroom. The hug we enjoyed lasted forever before we took stock of each other. Over the last few months we exchanged numerous photos of ourselves so we knew what to expect. There was mileage on both sides.

Donna had put on some beef, as I had, but essentially was the 1999 version of herself. She was 170 cm and plump around the waist, but the figure was more hourglass like the glamour girls of the 1950s. The bust had noticeably grown since we last met in the mid-noughties but gravity had not any marked effect. The behind was round and juicy but the mine in the middle of the brown valley was off limits.

Looks wise, Donna had long burgundy hair that flowed freely past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes burned with passion, the nose was straight as a die and the lips full and pouty. The beauty was there when there was little to no makeup which was not a frequent occurrence. Donna continued spend a king's ransom on makeup which I thought detracted from her naturally good looks. Oftentimes, if she was too drunk to remember to remove her makeup before hitting the bed, my pillow would be caked in foundation the next morning. Mind you, that was the least worrisome stain in my bed when Donna and I knocked boots back in the day.

Once we broke our embrace, Donna opened her fridge which displayed a remarkably diverse range of drinks.

"You've been shopping, I see?" I whistled at the impressive selection.

"I didn't know what you wanted," She chuckled, "So, I bought a range."

"Yes, you have," I agreed, "Will it be enough?"

"Let's find out," Donna beamed and grabbed a bottle of red.

As the rain fell in torrents outside, we settled in front of the gas fire that resembled a fake log fire. We sat on the floor with our backs against the couch. The light from the fire sparkled against the glasses of wine while we chatted casually about old times and new.

"You know Brett and Kellie are married now?"

"I'm connected to Brett on LinkedIn," I replied, "Are they living in Brisbane now?"

"Yeah, they moved up about five years ago now," Donna said, "With a growing family."

"Good for them," I acknowledged, "Do you see them at all?"

"Every couple of years," Donna replied, "They ask about you."

"Brett connected with me but has never sent me a message," I said, "Perhaps I should reach out?"

"So, what do you want to do when we're not having sex?" Donna asked following several minutes of discussing mundane topics.

"I'm easy," I chuckled, "Let's get out and about, if there's time."

"Hm, good point," Donna laughed, "I want to have as much sex with you as possible."

"Shall we start now?"

"I'd love to," Donna said looking over her should in the direction of her son's bedroom, "But I don't want to wake him."

"Fair enough," I said, "We can keep drinking then.

We later fooled around in Donna's bed. She gave me one of the best blowjobs I had in recently years and swallowed the lot while placing a hand over my mouth to stifle my audible cries of pleasure. I fingered Donna's sopping pussy until she pushed me away before she came.

Next day, Friday, began with glorious sunshine and a comfortable heat, tempered by a light breeze blowing in from the bay. Donna drove her son to her mother's place about half an hour away. While she was away, I showered and enjoyed a hearty breakfast.

When she returned, Donna took a shower, flopped on the bed once dry and spread her legs and opened her cunt. My job was obvious, to tongue it climax. The taste was sublime and the juice flowed freely, pooling on the sheet below. Cheekily, I allowed my tongue to dance across Donna's pucker and she did not object. Her engorged clit grew exponentially as I danced across it repeatedly. Looking up, Donna was pinching and pulling on her distended nipples, eyes closed and moaned in increasing cycles.

Donna climaxed loudly and often that the bedroom windows rattled. It was a good idea to refrain from sex the night before, Donna would have awakened the neighbours! My face was covered in pussy slime but that did not deter Donna from pulling me up to her face and kissing me passionately.

"Fuck me, lover," Donna whispered, pulling me effortlessly inside to tunnel of joy.

We fucked in a variety of positions including doggy in which I tested my luck again by inserting my thumb inside her greasy O-ring. Again, Donna did not object. The slapping of her pendulous breasts as I hammered her sloppy cunt was an intoxicating sound.

When sweat was dripping off our bodies, I finally came deep inside Donna, much to her delight. The spasms dropped away, she climbed off me and immediately took my flagging member in her mouth and sucked me clean.

"Fuck, that was better than I imagined!" Donna sighed as she nestled into me for a post-sex hug.

"Yep, that was intense," I agreed, my chest heaving from the exertion.

Later that day, we went for the cliched walk along the beach and had a seafood lunch with some white wine that lasted about four hours in the glorious sunshine. Later, back at Donna's beautiful house in a quiet, leafy street, we sat on the back patio imbibing wine.

"What's the dirtiest thing you've ever done?" Donna asked with a lascivious smile.

"Hm, depends on what 'dirty' actually means," I replied, "What's dirty to me might be normal to you."

"So, you're saying that I'm dirtier than you?"

"It's a relative position," I said, "I love engaging in anal and you don't."

"But do you consider anal 'dirty'?"

"Certainly, it was 30 years ago," I opined, "Anal wasn't mainstream but it seems to be now."

"And for the record, I'm not opposed to anal," Donna laughed, "Just so you know."

"Have you done it since we tried it?"

"A couple of times," Donna conceded, unsure whether to disclose this information, "They were not as enjoyable but I didn't ruin anyone's couch in the process."

We both laughed at the last part concerning the ruination of one's couch. Donna further divulged that she enjoyed my tongue and thumb up her bung.

"So, I might get a crack at that beautiful booty?" I pressed.

"We'll see, horn dog, we'll see."

So that was a 'yes' in my book, but to ensure success, it was best to let Donna dictate the timetable as to when she was ready to indulge in backdoor fun. In any case, I would not be disappointed if no anal took place given Donna's other holes were effective enough.

"So, what does 'dirty' mean to you?" I asked Donna.

"Something taboo," Donna replied after thinking a few moments, "Something that repels most people. Something that is a secret between partners."

"Examples?"

At this point, Donna went bright red and clammed up. Put on the spot, and asked to disclose some dark secret, her sexual confidence suddenly departed.

"I'm not drunk enough to tell you that," She laughed.

"We can change that," I said, grabbing the wine bottle.

"No, you won't," Donna chuckled and waved the bottle away.

That night and in the following morning, Donna and I fucked like teenagers. Long, sweaty sessions and multiple powerful orgasms.

On Saturday, we decided to grab dinner and see a band at the Bridge Hotel, which was only a short walk from Donna's house. On this occasion, she went dangerously under-made-up but was encouraged by my support. She did, however, dress provocatively, which accentuated her massive jugs and shapely arse. Donna went commando, explaining to me that if I wanted to finger her in public, then access would be readily available.

The meal was great. I did not recall a time when the two of us went to dinner together when we were first together seventeen years earlier. Back then, we were too skint to dine out and usually drank at home. What a difference the passage of time made to one's fortunes (financial and otherwise). Had we stayed together, our paths would have been different. Neither of us had any regrets about the decisions made but expressed happiness about reconnecting as friends 'with benefits'.

The band began at 9 PM, and the patrons trickled in. Before long, the lights were dimmed, and bass shook the establishment. We found ourselves sitting at a small table towards the back of the pub where we could still converse while appreciating the music. As the evening progressed, the press of people in front of us forced us to our feet so that we could see the band.

Perfect. I now had discreet access to Donna's pussy, and she encouraged me to finger her sopping pie. The deeper I inserted my fingers, the more juice dribbled down her inner thighs. She reacted positively and to everyone around us who noticed the look on her face was from the music.

As the evening wore on, I became more bold and used my wet fingers to circle Donna's brown eye. She did not object. Once her hole was moist enough, I pressed against the O-ring. The combination of alcohol and horniness had relaxed the muscle and my first finger entered easily. I alternated between holes to ensure Donna's backdoor remained lubricated. Soon, her shitter accepted a second finger.

"Mm, that feels nice," Donna leaned in for a peck on the cheek.

"Nice enough to take my cock later?"

"Wait and see."

I continued fingering Donna's holes as the band played. While I did not ask, I was certain that she orgasmed several times. Her inner thighs overflowed with pussy juice, some of which found itself inside Donna's arsehole.

"Take me home and fuck me senseless," Donna shouted in my ear, and the crowd were singing along to 'Thunderstruck' by AC/DC.

We threaded our way through the packed crowd to the exit and were surprised to find the weather had turned. The beautifully hot day had turned foul with the wind rising and spots of rain. As we made our way back to Donna's house, the rain became harder, and we had to duck and weave through the streets, seeking shelter where it was available.

At one point, we stood underneath a canopy of trees against a high stone wall on a quiet street where the street lights were so widely spaced that we were unseen in the shadows. There was at least another five minutes of walking before we reached Donna's house, but the rain became heavier. Without anticipating a change in the weather and a delay in reaching Donna's house, I should have gone to the bathroom before leaving the pub.

"If we're going to be here a while, you want to fuck?" Donna asked cheekily.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked while my cock grew hard.

"Get your cock out!"

I undid the belt, unbuckled my jeans and shimmied them down my thighs, releasing my rock-hard penis. Donna dropped to her knees and took my length deep inside her mouth. She moaned and mumbled as her lips, mouth and hands worked their magic. At one point though, Donna did something unusual that almost made me piss. I withdrew my cock to Donna's surprise and thinking quickly, I pulled her to her feet, turned her around and bent her over.

"I want to fuck your holes!" I growled.

Appreciatively, Donna thrust her butt out, and I entered her sopping cunt easily. Aside from the shrieking wind and rain, the only other sound was skin-on-skin action from our thighs slapping together and Donna's freed jugs rocking back and forth. While fucking her pussy, I continued fingering Donna's greasy pucker.

However, the pressure from my bladder increased, and I knew that an orgasm without a piss was impossible. I was unsure how to broach the subject with Donna without her being disgusted.

And then this did not help.

"Why don't you fuck my arse!" Donna asked.

There was no way I could refuse such a demand, given that I had been penetrating her dirty hole for several hours. If I don't experience it now, I might not get another chance.

"Spread your cheeks."

I pulled my glistening cock from Donna's pussy, and lined up my head against her wrinkled opening.

"You ready?"

"Sure, but take it slow," Donna giggled, "It's been a while."

"I will," And then I pressed, gently at first.

Penetration was easier than I thought and my cock was quickly buried balls deep inside Donna's peach.

"How does that feel?" I asked.

"Surprisingly good!" She replied, "Go easy on my poor butt."

The pace adopted was slow but each time our thighs clashed, I thought I was going to piss myself. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand but the pressure was becoming unbearable. There were perhaps minutes left before I had to withdraw and take a leak. I could not believe my bad luck because Donna's arse felt amazing, tight and hot.

"Sorry," I gasped, reluctantly pulling my penis from Donna's pooper, "I need to take a piss!"

"What, now?" Donna asked, taken completely by surprise.

"Yes, sorry, but I really need to go!" I hissed and pulled up my jeans, and looked around for a discreet place to evacuate my bladder.

"Can I watch?" Donna asked, giggling like a school.

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked, taken aback, with only seconds left before a major accident occurred.

"Always wanted to watch a man take a pee."

"Okay, well stand behind me," I said, not really taking in what Donna was suggesting, "I have to go here."

"Go for it," Donna whispered with a very noticeable increase in pulse rate.

The pressure was unbearable, but the piss would not come on account of my ongoing tumescence. I had to push thoughts of Donna's booty from my mind and think about the mundane shit of everyday life. Donna's hands all over my shoulders and chest did not help, nor did her kisses on my neck and ears.

"Here it comes," I sighed after a seeming eternity.

The stream began madding slowly, and I had to push hard. Eventually, the yellow jet grew in strength and I pissed hard against the wall.

"Oh, yeah!" Donna breathed, "Can I hold your cock?"

"Sure!" The release reduced the tension, and my mind was euphoric.

Donna dropped on her haunches and took hold of my semi-hard cock, her eyes as wide as saucers, fixated on the stream.

"Wow, that looks amazing!"

I was shocked at what happened next. Donna placed a finger directly into the jet of yellow, giggling like a teenager. Then she placed the finger into her mouth. She seemed lost in ecstasy and was fixated on this new endeavour.

"Oh, man, I was desperate!" I sighed after I had finally evacuated the piss.

Donna, however, made no reply but forced my semi-hard pissy cock deep inside her mouth. Within seconds, I was rock hard. With two hands gripped tightly on my arse cheeks, Donna encouraged me to fuck her face, and soon I felt an orgasm approaching. Donna did not react to the warning, and seconds later, I released my balls down Donna's throat.

After a professional cleanup, Donna stood, pulled her dress to one side and violently frigged her cunt to a thundering orgasm. I hoped to get back inside her arse, but the rain had abated a little, and Donna was keen to get home.