Husbands Co Worker Basement Bbc

This is the third story in the "Husband's Co-Worker" series. You do not need to read the others to enjoy this one, but the other stories may provide some context.

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I entered my driveway, I realized that shopping took a little longer than I expected. I found shopping distracting this morning. Still, as long as no additional complications arise my timing should be just fine. With only two small shopping bags, I easily carried it all into the kitchen in a single trip.

"Hey Babe! Are you excited for today?" I asked my husband.

"Absolutely!" He smiled back. "Can't you tell?"

I could, of course, as he was decked out perfectly. Displaying the broad, excited smile of a man after his third cup of coffee, and the pride of a Patriot's fan wearing #12's jersey, my guy was getting ready for today's games. The 1:00 games were a warm-up to the 4:00 game when the Patriots would be playing the Broncos. I was hoping that my guy wouldn't get too warmed up, too quickly. I like hearing him cheer for his team, and if he is too tipsy he has difficulty concentrating.

"Going to take it easy for a bit, Babe?"

"Yes, Janet." He sarcastically, but jokingly, said. "I won't drink too much ..."

"Just at first, hun, I want you to enjoy the day. Now get out of here, I have to prepare some food."

And I did. I can never tell exactly how many of Tom's friends would drop by on game day, but given the amount of beer he bought it looked like I should expect a big crowd. I quickly prepared a 7-layer bean dip, chopped most of the produce for the salad, and marinated the steaks. Tom could take care of the rest, and he definitely would take care of the grilling. Hopefully, the grilling won't start until 3:00. Frankly, starting much sooner might ruin things.

"Hun?!" I yelled from the kitchen. "I'm going to do some laundry. Do you have anything special I need to wash?"

"Just what's in the hamper, sweets!"

And with that I was off to the bedroom to gather the laundry. I tossed my apron into the middle of the clothes and then asked Tom to take the hamper down to the basement. I had to ask twice, because time was becoming an issue. Tom entered the room, gathered the hamper, and carried it to the basement. I followed behind.

"Here you go, Babe!" He said as he dropped off the hamper and prepared to head back upstairs. "Hey, you look cute!" He said, just before giving me a kiss on the cheek and disappearing back up the stairs.

I hoped he was right. I had decided to wear a vintage 1950s sundress and sweater set. The floral pattern sundress is rich in light blues, pinks, and greens. The sweater is a lighter pink, with the collar and cuffs made from the same pattern and material as the dress. I wore my favorite wedge sandals, not just because they seem to lengthen my legs, but because I needed the height. Everything had to be perfect.

I turned on the small light over the washer, which casts just enough light over the dryer and folding table, and then turned off the stairway light. That light, or rather that light being turned on, was my sentry. Walking to the other end of the walk-out basement, I pulled the curtains over the windows adjacent to the door. Normally I wouldn't do this, as natural light is my favorite, and without it the basement can seem dark and unwelcoming. But today it had to be.

Having a few minutes to myself, I stepped out of the basement door into the back yard. I love this time of year: the air is crisp and it greets your lungs like an aggressive old friend. It wraps you in its embrace! But I wasn't there to enjoy the air. I left the door just slightly open. With the curtains drawn and the stairway light off, I followed the only visible light past our oil tank, our boiler and our tools back to the folding table.

"Jimmy!" Tom yelled from upstairs as he greeted his first guest. This would become a chorus, as more and more of his friends would join in welcoming each new party member. As 'college' as that seems, it gives me great joy to hear people greet each other loudly and with such joy in their voices!

But if Jimmy is here, it must be closing in on 1:00. I have to stay on time! I unload the clothes onto the folding table and pull my apron from the pile--carefully I place that to the side. Then I reach for a clean towel, roll it into a cylinder, and position it near the far back of the table.

"Bob!" The two men upstairs called out, and I begin to squeeze a nipple through my dress. My breasts are very sensitive so it is no surprise that my body responds well. But more so, this whole scene, with my husband and his friends upstairs, and me alone within the radius of a dim light, excites me. My heart races as I continue to squeeze my breasts and pinch my nipples.

Five, maybe ten, minutes pass before the next call. "Aaron!" And with that I remove my panties and finally--finally--touch my lonely clit. The excitement of the moment takes me, and I quickly bring myself to orgasm. I continue, without pause, to touch myself, gently keeping my clit between two fingers, and moving those fingers in decisive small circles. A short burst of cold air focuses my attention, as the next call reminds me of my task.

"Drew!" I pull a condom and a cucumber from my apron. This is the only moment that I hesitate, as it is unlike me to use toys. But I am just a player in this game, and after unrolling the condom over the produce, and while keeping--always keeping--my eyes forward, I bring it to my entrance and run its length through my wetness. The condom feels slippery in my hand, but my confidence does not waiver.

"Frank!" I insert the toy, shallowly, and begin to accept it. With slow, shallow movements I open myself. As one hand holds it in place, and the other teases my clit, I push slightly harder down. Forgetting now all except the pleasure, I give myself completely to orgasm.

"Sam!" The chorus is louder now, with many more participants. But I am more even more isolated as my dress is lifted and placed over my head. In the dark, all I hear now is my breathing.

And then his zipper.

My sense of hearing, momentarily heightened, gives way to my sense of touch. I can feel his warmth now, pressed against my hip, as he grows. With a slight realignment, I feel him pulse--almost jump--as his skin touches my inner thighs. With his hands grasping my ass, he places his penis into the dampness of my opening. There he waits, resisting my attempt to push back onto him. Five brutally long, unforgiving minutes pass.

"John!" And with the new member in safely above our heads, he pushes in, slowly but surely, as my body even now resists his size. Biting down now on the towel, I make precious little sound as he forces my body to accept his. And I do. Never in my life have I been so excited to hear a greeting.

"Doug!" And with that the trusts begin. Already deep inside he pulls but an inch out and then slams back forward, pushing the front of my thighs harder into the table. And then again, one inch out and hard back in. And again--this time extracting an orgasm--and again. Five short but very deep thrusts followed by almost complete removal and explosion back into my body.

And then again. Five short thrusts followed by a glorious punishing blow. And again. And again. My towel now clenched between my teeth holding screams in, my body responding in waves of orgasm, and my machine-like lover keeping perfect timing.

"Barry!" The speed quickens, five short thrusts becomes three, the punishing blow even more powerful. The cadence continues impossibly long.

"Mike!" I almost cry when I hear the call. The short thrusts disappear, replaced with consistent strong, deep, ass-slapping, powerful thrusts.

"Keith!" I almost pass out at the call, as I feel my body being pulled back and forth to meet his thrusts. As I let out a quiet cry, I feel him press further, hold me tight, and exhale. I feel the pressure of his release.

Pulling quickly from me I feel him wipe himself on my ass and thighs, then I see a pair of my husband's briefs tossed near my face, containing an unmistakable reminder of love. I hear his zipper, feel a short cold breeze, and then after the time it takes to walk around my house, I hear the chorus. "Carl!"

I smile at the sound of his name. After a few moments, I gather myself, decide to also use the briefs as a towel, and then to wear them instead of washing them. I head upstairs because I have work to do. I must see if the boys need beer, and I have to finish preparing the salad.