Wives Party Time

A few weeks after the wives' party my mother called to say they were going to the Davis's for a holiday dinner visit. She asked if I wanted to come along?

"They haven't seen you since you were a boy," she said, "And I'm sure they would like to see you again."

I had already sent friendly texts to the phone numbers of the party wives. I kept the messages innocent in case a husband should see it. To each, I wrote, "So good to see you, and I hope the demonstration pleased you." In no time, I had responses. A few discouraged the contact. But more were happy to have my contact info.

By the time Mr. and Mrs. Davis visited my family, I had already made dates with some of the wives. But, of course, I was most interested in Mrs. Davis, my hand job queen.

But should I show up in person in the Davis's home with my parents? Would Mrs. Davis be concerned if her former Sunday School student who she had just jerked off were to be there? I wanted to find out.

My parents had arrived before me, and when I rang the doorbell Mrs. Davis greeted me, "Hello, nice to see you again."

I laughed, "Last time it was all my pleasure."

She smiled and nodded, "I bet it was."

"I've barely recovered," I told her. "That's a compliment."

Mrs. Davis nodded for me to come in. I saw the others in the back room, so I took her aside out of sight of her husband and my parents. I held her shoulders, looked into her eyes, and kissed her lips. She responded in a way that told me that she wanted me to fuck her as much as I wanted to get my cock in her pussy.

We stepped into the other room, and everyone greeted me. Mr. Davis said, "My you've grown," then looked at his wife, "hasn't he?" She said, "He certainly has grown into a big man."

After drinks and chat, we took out seats at the dinner table, and I took the chair next to Mrs. Davis. Dinner conversation moved along, as my hand touched Mrs. Davis's knee. As I thanked her for her Sunday School teaching lessons, my hand was circling her knee and pulling it to the side. Ever so carefully, my hand moved slowly up the inside of her leg.

We sat close enough so that others didn't notice that my right hand was nearing our hostess's panties. In fact, Mr. Davis poured more wine for me as my fingers brushed up against his wife's panties. I looked over and saw her struggling to keep her composure.

My fingers explored the soft nylon covering her pussy, and I could tell that a complex series of rolling lips were under her panties. This was no plain vanilla pussy.

I knew not to push my luck at the dinner table, and I moved my hand away, satisfied that Mrs. Davis now knew that I would soon see that pussy and enjoy it while she anticipated my big cock probing those puffy lips.

Mrs. Davis stood to clear the table, and I helped bring things to her in the kitchen.

"You're taking chances, young man," she told me.

"Do you want me to fuck you tonight when no one is looking?" I asked, "Or would you like me to come back later to fuck you?"

Mrs. Davis was getting excited and nervous. "Hush, don't talk like that."

"I'm sorry, but feeling your panties got me excited."

Again she said, "Shush, somebody might hear you."

"I haven't seen it yet, but I think you have one of the best pussies I've ever seen," I said.

"For God's sake, don't talk like that," she said.

Okay, let me whisper. I moved close to her ear and said, "My cock is going to really enjoy fucking you."

Mrs. Davis almost dropped a dish. She was breathing heavily. "I've got to sit down," she said.

She walked into the living room and sat on the sofa next to her husband. I joined them and moved a small chair directly across from Mrs. Davis. As the others chatted, I caught Mrs. Davis's eye. She saw me look down at her knees while I licked my lips slowly. She looked away quickly. But she gradually parted her knees. She kept glancing at me, and I looked her in the eyes then dropped my gaze to her legs as they very carefully inched apart.

Soon, a patch of white panties came into view. My cock had long since puffed and leaked, and now that she was showing me her panties while sitting next to her husband my dick was dancing a happily in my pants. She knew exactly what it looked like, and she knew my pants tent was no empty wrinkle.

The time came to leave, and at the door Mrs. Davis kissed me on the cheek and whispered, "Mr. Davis leaves for a business trip on Tuesday."

I smiled, hugged her, and whispered back, "Call me."