Sex with Margie was great. We’d get together maybe once or twice a month and go at it like teenagers released from their parent’s shackles. The only difference was that we both had teenagers of our own that needed to be kept out of the loop since Margie and I were married, just not to each other. Her husband was a large man with whom she had been fighting and had separated from. My wife and I still lived together but had long ago ceased really having fun together. So the trysting took place mostly at her place when the kid wasn’t home or in diverse locales when no one else was around. The effect on our lives was immediate and dramatic. Our own spouses became more tolerable to us and the thought of reconciliation or recommitment became reasonable if not desirable.
Sure there were the embarrassing moments like when we were just starting to get busy and the car would pull into the driveway or the door would open with an unexpected “intruder.” But we had always managed to dodge the bullet. Lately, though, the encounters were becoming less frequent and more full of guilt. She would want to get me aroused so that I could go home and do the wife properly. I would wonder whether she was dating this guy or that guy or if her hubby maybe was starting to look good to her again. I’d even started finding out about previously unknown additional ex-husbands.
Still, whenever we’d get together, the passion would fill our eyes and bodies. We started acting like teenagers-should we or shouldn’t we? “No don’t go THERE! Well maybe there is okay. No don’t take that off! If you get me started I won’t be able to stop. Would a hand job be cheating? Oh, you feel so good and hard; don’t pull my pants down…oh, oh, oooh.” Lots of heavy breathing and steamed up car windows followed by frustrating trips to the bathroom or the porno sites.
I wanted today to be better than that. She had never consented to any sort of multiple partner things and I wasn’t sure if I could handle the sight of another man plowing his big dick into my favorite honey pot. But, I could certainly easily envision what it would look like. Her long brunette hair braided and tossed over her shoulder while her legs wrapped around some big hunks back. Those pretty blue eyes intensely focussed on his gaze while seven or eight inches of ramrod repeatedly violated her warm love canal. Me staring from not too far away at the whole sight with a raging hard-on of my own while wondering if I would even get sloppy seconds or if my manhood would even be noticed in her now over-stretched pussy.
She had vowed that I would never see her with another man or even hear about it, at least from her own lips. Should I plant my lipstick camera on her bedroom window and relieve my curiosity about her sex life away from me? Should I just beg her to let me watch her go out dancing in those tight dresses while she teased (or pleased?) some lucky single guy on the disco dance floor. In an ideal world, I’d offer to swap partners with her. Let her ex with the big dick plow my wife while I plowed her and then swap partners and see where it led. But back in Reality – Land I knew I’d have to make the best out of what she was willing to offer.
One of our favorite meeting places was the park. We’d kiss and fondle, suck and nibble, steam the windows of her van and return home. Today had to be even better than that. Discovery be damned; I wanted to get her in the great outdoors and maybe make the animals blush. One of the fun features of this park was a wood tower that allowed park users the opportunity to climb to above the tree level and view several miles of Hammock scenery, the coastline to the east and the Everglades to the west. Since it was a bit of a climb, the old folks didn’t bother with it and the staff only occasionally passed by to make sure the raccoons hadn’t converted it to their home.
So, after a few minutes of the obligatory petting, I suggested we go for a little walk up to the tower. At each of the 4 lower stations I’d stop her, hold her tightly against my chest, and plant a deep kiss on whatever came to mind. On the first station I pushed my tongue into her mouth while my hands fondled those D cups I so dearly loved. On the second stop I nibbled her ear while releasing those southern belle mountains from their restraints much to her verbal displeasure. We climbed another rung and my hands found their way into her now moist panties.
Despite her best grip on my hair, I got down on my knees and gave praise to that now dripping fur patch between her thighs. Pulling her panties down and off I thrust my tongue into her snatch and tasted her copious juices while my hands alternated between grabbing her ass and applying a bit of rotation on her clit. At the fourth station, what little resistance she’d had was going fast. I pushed one finger then another into her now flowing love chamber then reached between her legs to push another finger into her rear entrance. I’d have carried her up to the top platform now if I’d had to. When we got there, the view was as spectacular as I’d remembered it. Thankfully it was very quiet in the park this afternoon since it was a little chillier than the locals could stand today. I put my arms around her and we kissed for a few moments while she fondled my now engorged prick through my pants. That intense look in her eyes was there again. That look that I loved was unmistakable and beautiful and I told her so.
