As they drove home from the cricket ground Stacy and Helen discussed Dave. “My god he is well hung for a lad,” Helen observed, as Stacy tried to make herself respectable.
“Stop talking about him, for Christ’s sake. I’ve got to look OK before we get to your place, I don’t want my old man to get suspicious,” Stacy cried.
Much later after showering and changing she joined Helen for coffee on the patio.
“My, what a difference a shower makes.” Helen exclaimed. “After more than two hours in the raw, with that young bastard stuck right up you, you still look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”
“My god Helen be careful the men are only just through the door in the den.” Stacy whispered.
They had no need to worry their husbands were downing a few beers while the TV replayed highlights of the weekends games.
They were discussing Dave, but it was his cricketing ability that was the focus of their attention.
The wives were also discussing Dave, but it was a different type of ability, more personal.
Stacy was flushed as she relived the excitement of her morning on the floor of the scorer’s box. Her pussy grew warm, then wet, and her mouth became dry, as Helen recounted what she had seen, while watching them through the window.
Stacy was blushing in embarrassment “my god I didn’t know you were watching.” “Thank god it was only you, and not someone else.” “I don’t want to be caught, and I hate the idea of someone spying on me.”
“Listen, I wasn’t spying.” Helen replied angrily. “I told you before we left here this morning to take him up to the scorer’s room.” “I promised I would cover for you.” “When you both disappeared for quite a while, I went up to see that you were ok.”
Helen’s voice was growing more excited, “I looked through the window and spotted you both down on the floor.”
“Once I saw what was happening, I was going to leave.” “Honestly, I didn’t mean to stay, but I was mesmerised, watching my own private live fucking sex show. It was all the more exciting because it was you.”
Helen’s eyes stared off in space as she tried to describe why she stayed.” The first thing I saw, was his eighteen year old arse, it was brown all over except for a thin strip of white where he had worn a strap sunbathing.
“Oh Stacy, the way the cheek muscles rippled and bucked and his whole body moved as he slammed into you, made my knees weak.”
“You were hidden by his body except for your legs stuck up high in the air, and your hands that were raking his back, your fingernails leaving red scratch marks; I think you were drawing blood.”
But it was the noise that you made, the heavy breathing, moaning and grunting, your bodies slapping together, your head banging against the floor that was the last straw I couldn’t leave.”
“As I said I didn’t mean to stay, but I found myself quietly cheering you on.”
Stacy responded quickly, “oh hell, I wasn’t calling you a spy, but I am scared stiff of getting caught.” “If you could watch and we didn’t know you were watching, how many others could do the same?”
She was becoming agitated, “To think that people might see me cheating makes me sick in the stomach.” “Id` be the talk of this bloody town.” “I’d never be able to live it down.”
Helen laughed “I can understand what you are worried about, but truthfully I would love to fuck in public.”
“I `d like to make a porno tape. I’d love to watch myself fucking, but you’re right, this small bloody town of ours would crucify you.”
“Anyway don’t worry about Sunday I was the only one to watch you perform, and you were one great fucking porno slut.” Helen said with a laugh.
The sat drinking their coffee both smiling as they remembered the morning’s events. “When are you meeting him again?” Helen asked.
“Oh I don’t plan to meet him again,” Stacy cried, “it’s too dangerous.”
“Dangerous my bum,” Helen replied “he’s too good to lose.” “He’s young he’s innocent and you given him his first real taste of a woman.”
“He’s yours now; he’ll do whatever you want.” “He will be wanking off over you, day and night.”
“He’ll want you, and whilst he doesn’t know what to do, it won’t be long before he starts chasing you. Eventually you’ll give in and do it again.”
“Believe me that’s what happens when a woman whose man looses interest, gets an ever ready supply.” Helen added.
“Oh Helen shut up I am still sore from this morning and just talking about it has made me wet again.”
Stacy appeared to be dreaming aloud. “Of course I’d like to do it again; it was exciting like being a teenager again. But there are too many dangers; I don’t want to destroy my marriage or family.”
Stacy looked at Helen and signalled to talk quietly, as she nodded her head towards the men. “I’ll be to scared to try anything again,” Stacy was hesitating when Helen stood up leant over and whispered “If you aren’t going to fuck him, I will.”
“My god Helen that’s up to you, I can’t stop you, I don’t own him.” “All I can say is don’t hurt him and don’t get caught.”
Monday afternoon Dave and his mate headed off to cricket practice.
“I’d like to fuck that” Malcolm said as they passed the coffee shop where Helen Watson was sitting smoking.
Dave looked at his mate, “not so bloody loud, don’t you watch TV? Her husband’s that footballer they call the raging bull, if he heard you he’d make mince meat of you.”
Helen Watson had spied Dave and called to him “I haven’t seen you around Dave where have you been.”
Dave blushed remembering Mrs Watson had been down at the oval on Sunday morning when he and Mrs Turner had made love.
“Malcolm and I are off to cricket practice,” he said as Malcolm nudged him. “I’m sorry I should have introduced him this is my mate Malcolm.”
“Hi Malcolm” she called virtually dismissing him, while looking at Dave adding, “I might drop down to the ground later, Stacy and I still have some cleaning up in the scorer’s room,”
Dave’s mind was racing as they walked down to the cricket ground. Helen had mentioned the scorer’s room, where he had fucked Harry’s mum. Surely she doesn’t know what happened. He thought.
He had dreamed last night of Harry’s mum, Mrs Stacy Turner. Her big tits were indelibly printed on his brain. He could still taste her kisses; his prick grew hard every time he thought of her.
Just thinking of her now as he walked down the street made him hard. Last night as he lay in bed, rubbing his prick he remembered vividly her body odour.
