Meeting Rastus
It was Sunday morning. As the sun streamed through the cracks in the curtains we woke in each others arms. It was only at weekends that we had the chance to enjoy the luxury of a leisurely lie in with a gently sensual introduction to the day.
I looked back over my shoulder. My husband, John, with his eyes closed, was smiling in his sleep. Or was he asleep? I thought back on the conversation on the evening before as we were preparing for bed. He had watched as I undressed. He was still in his boxers and shirt. "God, you're beautiful," he told me as I slipped on my nighty.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," I laughed as he came towards me. He placed a hand on my back, turned me towards him and kissed me. His other hand went to my breast.
I shuddered as he gently took my nipple between his thumb and finger through the flimsy nighty. My breasts have always been sensitive. I loved it when he fondled them. "These breasts are amazing. It would be lovely to share them." He kissed each breast in turn.
"What?" I exclaimed as I involuntarily shuddered.
He kissed me again. He put his mouth to my ear. "I would love to see another man take hold of your breasts, play with your nipples and then," he paused. He kissed my neck. "...and then... suckle from them." He knew that he was exciting me. I quivered at his words. He kissed me again as his other hand gently rubbed my bottom through the silk material. "Then he would be rough with you, hurt you, force you...."
I gasped. Wow. That got my tummy twirling. But where the hell had this come from? "God, you must be randy to be thinking that." I told him jokingly. "You are joking, aren't you?" But his words were having an effect on me.
He didn't reply as he slipped away to get his pyjamas. He looked embarrassed. He wanted another man to touch my breasts? Although I was 52 years old I had to admit that my 36 D cup breasts were still reasonably firm and stood high on my chest. I was proud of my shape and, when I stood with my shoulders back I was aware of men noticing my body. At times I was excited as a man's eyes would linger, particularly if I was wearing light clothing with no bra. My firm nipples could attract the attention of any man.
I loved it when my husband held my breasts or, God forbid, even molested them. He knew that my nipples were very sensitive. But to have another man handle them... well,... er.... really?... That could be interesting. But does he really want to see me handled roughly. A chill ran through my body.
Of course I knew that some women liked pain. But did he want to introduce another man to abuse me? That did seem kinky. His comments had certainly had an effect and caused a flutter in my stomach. Nothing more was said as he finished undressing and we got into bed. We were immediately in each others arms and were soon making love, which was much enhanced by the conversation.
xxXxx
On Wednesday night, once we were in bed, John brought up the subject again. He snuggled up behind me. I felt his erection pressing into my buttocks through his pyjamas. I slowly eased my nighty up to bare my bottom, adjusting my hips carefully so that the now almost hard cock could slide between my cheeks and thighs.
His hand came over my side and rested on my breast. I was excited. I needed him. I moved my hand behind me and found his erection. My fingers worked to find the opening of his pyjamas. Then, suddenly, I felt the naked cock. I encircled his warm silky flaccid penis with my hand and pulled it out of his pyjama trousers. John let out a small groan. Wow, excellent; slowly getting harder. It was now pressing into the crease of my bottom. That feels so....... I'm ready, I think. My heart thumped in my chest. His breathing quickened. I griped him. His hand found my nipple and squeezed. I felt the wetness in my vagina. Neither of us spoke but I moaned quietly as he handled my breast roughly. His hand moved down to my vulva. He lifted my leg. I gasped. His tool was at my labia. It sought the wetness. I manoeuvred so as to coat it with my excretion. I rubbed it up and down. Oh, God that felt good.
I was getting wetter. Oh Yes. Please don't come early, I thought. The tool was now slippery. He understood. He pushed gently. It was still not hard enough but he managed to ease it into my vagina. Oh God! Oh Yes! I pushed my bottom back. It slipped further in. "Yeek, " I exclaimed loudly.
He gently eased in and out. It was blissful. I was close to coming. My nipples were hurting with their rigidity, not helped by his rough handling of them. My vagina was soaking. His fingers were on my clitoris. "You will do it, won't you?" He said it in a tone to indicate an order as opposed to a question. What was he talking about?
"What?" I asked.
"What I said on Sunday." His hands were firmly playing with my breast again. God it felt good. I wanted him to squeeze. 'Please hurt me', I thought. His penis was now, at last, harder. What had he said on Sunday? His well lubricated cock was a piston working in my canal.
"What?"
"I want another man to touch you; to fondle you; to explore you; to hurt you; to force you.... until you are in the position of his choice." That did it. I exploded in ecstasy. My vagina was gushing as I shuddered with my orgasm. Within seconds I felt his cock vibrate and, with a big sigh, I felt him ejaculate into me.
"Oh, John," I whispered back breathlessly after I had recovered. "Wow. But I could never do that." I told him. But I knew that he had instilled the seed of an idea; he had touched a raw nerve. The thought was explosively exciting.
As he laid back he continued to rub my vulva. The feeling was exquisite. "OK, if you can't agree to that at least agree to let another man see you. When we go out on Friday wear something sexy which will excite any onlookers."
"OK," I replied. "OK, I will do that for you."
"And perhaps you could give them a flash."
The idea excited me. "We will see. But no touching, OK?"
"OK, that's a deal then."
xxXxx
As was our custom, that Friday evening we were getting ready to go out when John told me that we were going to an up market pub close to Lincoln's Inn, where many city professionals worked.
Bearing in mind our previous discussion I was in the bedroom changing out of my slacks and floppy jumper into a smart, green, silk cocktail dress.
The dress was not too elaborate. The silk was soft. The skirt, which hugged my hips and bottom tightly, ended a couple of inches above my knees. There was a slit up the side to the level of my hip. It had a U scooped loose front which covered most of my breasts but was low enough to allow a good view of my cleavage. A bra was not suitable with the cut of the dress so my breasts moved freely beneath the loose folds. I felt daring as I slipped it on in front of the mirror. On a whim I removed my panties. The dress was long enough to ensure that nothing obscene would be seen, but the slit did provide me with the opportunity to display a more intimate view should I feel so inclined. 'That will turn John on,' I smiled to myself. I put my long hair into a pony tail and applied minimal make up. I felt wicked and sexy; that is what he wanted. I was ready to go with a confident spring in my step.
We got a taxi and found the exclusive pub that John knew, which, he told me as we entered, was a renowned place for city men to pick up upper class girls. As we entered we could see that it was busy with a young crowd all enjoying themselves after a week's work. John found us a small table with a couple of chairs and went to the bar to get us some drinks. He had only been gone a minute before the three men at the next table started chatting to me. (As a fifty year old I smiled to myself as I contemplated being 'a picked up upper class girl'). They turned out to be young lawyers enjoying a drink after work before going home. They were happy and quite rowdy; drinking Bollinger. They cheerfully offered me a flute.
By the time John returned with a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine, I was on my second glass of Champagne. The guys had joined our tables together, and had in the process arranged for me to be sitting between Jake and Lea with the spare chair for my husband, next to Bob, opposite us. The banter between the three lads was non stop fun. We all chatted away while another bottle of Bollinger was consumed.
After a short time I noticed that Jake, a well built man with fair hair and a ruddy complexion, would turn towards me to get a view of my cleavage. Then after a particularly amusing joke had been told by Bob, he raised his hand and, as it came down, it casually alighted on my knee. I felt a small shiver. Our eyes connected as we both took a second or two to understand the implications. I looked at my husband as Bob's hand gently slipped over my dress to my mid thigh. John had not seen Bob's hand but I had to smile at the thought that, had he done so, he would have much enjoyed seeing it. Bob's hand remained on my thigh as he joked with the others. He seemed unconcerned that my husband was opposite us. But I was getting tired of their in house jokes which, although amusing, were somewhat passée. John was certainly enjoying them though. The lads were too misogynistic for my liking. They were too loud and too full of themselves. John happened to look up as Jake placed his hand on my other thigh. He looked surprised as he noticed the two lads' hands. He caught my eye and smiled at me. Was this what he wanted? But I was not going to be used by these boastful youngsters. I stood and excused myself explaining that I was going to the ladies.
On my return they were all laughing and joking and John was enjoying the company.
I sat down and almost immediately Bob placed his hand back on my thigh. I tried to take no notice as it caressed me. But John was watching now and had certainly noticed. The hand soon found the slit and within moments my thigh was naked to his touch. It edged to my inner thigh. It was inches from my pussy. God, I couldn't allow him to touch me, particularly as I was naked there. I stood up again. "I think that it is time for us to go," I told John across the table.
"Oh, no, you must stay," said Jake as his hand moved to rest on my bottom. I removed his hand.
"Oh come on darling, we are having fun." John said.
