Maggie and I are regular attendees at many of the wilder kink parties that splendid secret Sydney provides. You just have know the right people.
On one visit to Sydney we booked into our regular hotel in Wooloomooloo about 3 in the afternoon. It's a 5 hour drive to the big smoke from our place. Cup of tea wind down from the drive then a walk along the harbour to The Boy our favoured swimming pool. You can swim and look across to the Naval docks between the laps.
After our swim, 1.5km for Maggie 1km for me we played some lovely silly games of diving between each others legs and water wrestling. I guess we turn heads and maybe gets tut tuts when we play as even though both keep very fit we are 60 plus. We are also old enough not to give a moments care. The pool is beautiful and frequented by many of Sydney's gay community. As such it's a cheerful, respectful fun place.
On the walk back Maggie calls and confirms our restaurant booking. I delight in hearing her one sided conversation with James the maitre de. Always light and flirtatious. We have been there many times and Maggie in particular is a very favoured customer..
We both showered at the pool so with an hour before dress up time we dressed down instead and lounge on the bed in the afternoon sun to do the SMH crossword punctuated by delicate butterfly kisses and the warmth of Maggie's hand on my cock. Once as she pondered a difficult clue I snaked between her legs to run my tongue along her wet cunt.
"Very helpful Bill" she said in mock annoyance then tightened her thighs to hold my head in place.
Slowly we disentangle. Time to dress.
"Will we come back to change into our club clothes?" asks Maggie.
"Yes there should be plenty of time. " I reply. "I have a surprise."
We walked the hill to Oxford Street. Maggie is in my ear all the way.
"What surprise? Tell me. Come on."
I resist until we were seated and polishing off our main course. On the table between the Verdello filled glasses, bowls of Massaman beef, Indonesian spicy chicken and rice Maggie spied two tickets. The gasp of pleasure alone is worth the price.
"Oh Bill the Rifles. How cool is that?"
"Yeah just pure luck I noticed they are playing tonight in Marrickville."
Lucky indeed for a band that plays only 5 or 6 times a year tops. Sort of still going, sort of retired.
The meal is as usual an taste, visual and olfactory delight.
"Mine is better than yours cause I still got pussy on my lips." I chided.
Maggie reaches over the table and kisses me. "Mine will be better now," she laughs.
The restaurant is always tightly crowded. It's actually part of it's appeal. A couple at the next table laugh. Maggie and I smile at each other both knowing we were probably overheard.
Half a bottle of wine each and a delicious meal on board we make our way back. The route passes our favorite ice creamery and as usual there is always dessert space in our tums.
This place has wild combinations with wilder names. Maggie has the latest salted caramel concoction but I go for a combination called The King is Dead because it has peanut butter and chocolate and I'm addicted.