Love Thy Neighbour

      Yorum yok Love Thy Neighbour

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


My wife is a total fitness nut. She’s only tiny, a shade under 5 foot but she runs daily, watches what she eats and does three gym sessions a week. And she has the most perfect little arse. Her whole body is sexy, slim and toned, but when she slips on her tight jeans, when she wriggles into a short skirt, every firm sexy muscle is visible. From her curved calves, passed her powerful solid thighs to those perfect rounded glutes, wow! Let’s just say doggy is my favourite. Not that she’ll let me in there. I can touch, stroke, grope, squeeze, even bite on occasions, as long as I keep away from the hole and under no circumstances is anything to be inserted there. I don’t really mind, I love to fuck her pussy from behind and squeeze those globes.

Sometime she complains I don’t want to see her face enough. That’s not true. I love her beautiful face. Her shining grey eyes and naturally long thick lashes, her generous mouth almost always with an amused curl dancing across it, framed by short light brown hair in a cute pixie cut. She’s gorgeous.

But I see that all the time. When I get a chance to get up close and personal with that arse I grasp it with both hands. Literally.

I’m not as enthusiastic about the whole fitness thing as Sam, but in the 8 years we’ve been together she’s never let me become complacent. My main exercise is Sunday league football for my local boozer, but the social aspect more than makes up for any calories burnt off on the pitch. Sam keeps me on my toes, dragging me along to and entering me into 5 and 10 km “fun runs”. They should be strung up for crimes against the English language. This is not the sort of fun of which Chaucer or Shakespeare wrote.

Latest thing is something called rough runners. Through ditches, over muddy fields, across streams of freezing cold water. At least they have the decency to leave the word fun out of it. Hate it hate it hate it.

Still, I’m 5’10” reasonable broad of shoulder and trim of waste. Yes the word buff has been used, and no, not just by me. Not 30 for another year, I’m not too shabby I guess.

I have to work shifts, some overnight. There are pros and cons to this. The biggest most immediate pro is the pay enhancement. The biggest most immediate con is you’re trying to sleep when everyone else is going about their day. This includes celestial bodies beaming through your curtains and bin men noisily taking away your recycled bottles and cans. So the most important thing for me, is to get to sleep as soon as possible when you’ve just done a night. The first one is the worst, but if you get your head down just for a few hours the rest of the week will be fine.

I always get home to an empty flat on these mornings, Sam sets off early for her morning jog to work. I’ve managed to establish a routine that works for me. Firstly, a bacon butty. Cannot sleep if I’m hungry. Then I spend a little time cruising the Internet for porn while I enjoy a nice spliff. By the time my joint is gone I’m mellow and sleepy and in the mood for bed. Perfect. Not even the midmorning traffic would keep me awake.

Fed, stoned and pleasantly horny, sleep sweeps over me minutes after my head hitting the pillow.

I never sleep more than four or five hours in these circumstances, I guess that’s how long it takes till I’m rested enough so as to be disturbable. Is that a word? I’m sure you get the idea. I start to come to about two-ish. No reason at all to get up so float in and out of wakefulness. Noises of the everyday ebb and flow into my consciousness. A door slams, it’s sudden and unexpected. I briefly open my eyes, a grey overcast day and the room is quite murky which my pupils appreciate; there is no harsh brightness to blind me.

The significance of a slamming door sinks into my consciousness. Was that in our flat? Is Sam home? A clumsy intruder thinking the flat is unoccupied? Groggy I get out of bed, pull on my dressing gown and slowly open the bedroom door. The last of the skunk is possibly still making its presence felt, and having just been roused I’m not at my best. Our flat is quite small. There’s a tiny kitchen leading into a living area of sofa and armchair facing the TV/games console and music system. Behind that a small dining table and chairs. Otherwise there’s a bathroom and double bedroom. Compact and bijoux you might say, if you’d never heard the word pokey. Takes me seconds to discover I’m still alone and I let out a sigh, more relieved than I realised. Going to the front door I peer through the spy hole and notice the woman across the way. She’s a big girl. Really big fat woman, in her 50’s I’d say. She lives with what we always assumed was her son. He looks about 19, comes and goes.

Haven’t paid too much attention to him. I’ve seen her about during the day so assume she doesn’t work. You can tell we’re not exactly neighbourly. She is standing in the hallway looking like she’s just got out of the bath. Whenever I’ve seen her before she’s been heavily made up bursa escort and, well, quite common looking I suppose. Now she has a towelling dressing gown and a bath towel beneath it wrapped around her serious bulk. Her hair is long and dark, but right now it’s wrapped in one of those towel turbans that only women can do. She’s standing in the hall looking agitated cursing to herself. I don’t know if she sensed movement through the spy hole or I made a sound but her attention switches and focuses in my direction. Involuntarily I take a step back into the flat as she strides over and taps on my door. I consider prepending I’m not here. I don’t know this woman in the slightest, but I’ve never liked the look of her. I know this sounds odd but there is something about her knock. It’s hesitant, reluctant to disturb. I’ve always imaged her to be abrasive and strident, but here she is in what looks like a bit of a fix and she’s shy to ask for help.

I open the door and peer out. Her face blossoms with relief. Her frown is replaced by a coy smile. She looks me up and down and seems surprised I’m in a similar state of attire as she is. Her skin is pink and freshly cleansed. Without any make up she looks quite different. Her brown eyes are gentle and smile is sweet. When she speaks, the first time I’ve heard her I suddenly realise, she is softly spoken with a hint of what? Welsh? There is a faint regional accent, a sing-song quality to her voice.

“Oh thank heavens someone is home. I’ve been such a fool, I got myself locked out and, well you can see, I’m ill prepared to be out and about. Would you mind letting me wait in yours till Paul gets home?”

“Sure! Sure come in. Would you like a cup of tea of anything?”

I stand back and she walks by me and through to the living room. She smells clean and perfumed and nice and the confined space means we are very close. I watch her hips sway and her huge backside as she moves into the room, and follow her in. She sits on the sofa and reclines a little. I pop through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Our conversation through the open gap is stilted and awkward and generally revolves around quantities of milk and sugar.

I bring through two steaming mugs, place hers on the small table by her and take my seat opposite her. Inside I’m congratulating myself on a job well done. In my current state making two cups of tea and delivering the right one to my guest is a gargantuan task. Maybe I should have brought biscuits.

She is clearly struggling to maintain control of the towel under her dressing gown. It is slipping and gaping slightly as she sits down, no doubt tugged down by those generous buttocks. She wriggles somewhat trying to pull sufficient to cover the ample bosom now on display and in doing so has to lift her bottom. This in turn causes her large thighs to be exposed as the gown comes undone. I try not to stare I really do. I avert my eyes and want to protect my guest’s modesty but my eyes are drawn back, time and again to those large expanses of pink flesh. Exasperated she stands, excuses herself and turns her back. Opening the gown she removes the offending towel, draws her gown close and ties the cord. Turning back to face me she smiles and retakes her seat.

“That’s much better, I stand a chance of controlling one garment, but I’m powerless against two!”

Turns out her name is Georgie and she’s a widow. Paul is her 18 year old son and is a bit of a tear away, but a good kid. He works for a supermarket chain, as does Georgie and like me Georgie has to cover 24 hour work patterns, which is why she’s home in the day. Just like me. She’s rather nice and her face is quite lovely. Her humour is as gentle as her dark brown eyes. I actually feel quite bad about judging her. As I listen to her talk I realise there is still a good proportion of leg and bust visible. My attention is drawn back to her massive cleavage time and again. When I’m not straining to see more of her tits I’m ogling her huge flabby thighs. Had I not smoked a rather potent joint earlier or if I had had a proper night’s sleep I would have had more self-control or at least been a bit cannier about it. I should be repulsed, obese people have always been objects of scorn as far as I was concerned, but I’m not. I’m fascinated. This is so different from my toned, hard bodied wife. I’m trying to be subtle and I’m fairly sure I’m getting away with it until Georgie throws me completely. Without missing a beat in the flow of her conversation she casually tosses a bomb in my lap.

“Does she know, your wife?”

Mention of Sam makes me jump internally and my focus is back on her seductively smiling face.

“Sam? Know what?”

“Does she know you fantasise about being with a larger woman?”

I don’t know how to respond. Somehow, ‘oh no I don’t find you in the slightest bit attractive’ when I’ve spent the last 20 minutes trying to see as much of her as I could might not carry much conviction. I end up saying simply, bursa escort bayan “I…I…I…I” and shaking my head. Her smile goes from seductive to downright wicked as she looks me square in the groin.

“You can deny it if you like, but something tells me you’re not being entirely honest.”

To my horror I realise I’m tenting my dressing gown so much it is parted slightly showing my erection. I gasp and cover it with both hands. My expression must be quite comical because she laughs out loud. Not a mocking laugh, actually a rather pretty tinkling laugh. A delighted laugh. She shakes her head and allows the towel drying her hair to fall out. Her dark tussled waves fall about her face attractively.

“Oh you big Meany! There you’ve been, drinking in the sight of my bare skin, and now when it’s my turn..?!”

She wags a finger and winks.

“Georgie, I am SO sorry. Please don’t be offended. Please don’t tell Sam!”

“Offended? Honey, it’s the biggest compliment I’ve been paid for ages! And I won’t tell skinny Sammy if you don’t. It can be our little secret”

She emphasises biggest and winked again. Slipping down onto her knees she lets her gown gape open and approaches me on all fours. Her pendulous breasts hang down and her belly can be seen behind them. In the tiny flat she is right before me in only a couple of seconds. My heart is racing as she places her warm hands on mine. I notice the nails are perfectly manicured as she pulls my hands to the side and spreads by dressing gown open. Her face is inches from my swollen cock as she looks up with wide innocent eyes. Her mouth is open and I’m frozen still. My mind should be racing, but it’s perfectly still and blank. Any attempt at thought is utterly futile. Quietly, almost in a whisper she breaths across my cock head.

“Don’t. Forget. To breath!” And the tinkling laughter again.

I gasp in response, firstly because I didn’t know I was holding my breath, and secondly in response to her hot breath on me. She places the tips of her fingers along either side or my cock and allows them to flutter up and down along my length. It is sexy and teasing and wonderful. I watch mesmerised languishing in her touch. She tilts my cock slightly towards her and leans her head in. My cock is just inside the “O” of her open mouth, not touching, her eyes fixed on mine. She smiles and starts to pull away but her full bottom lip catches on the underside on the head. She holds that pose for a second before breaking contact. I want scream at her to please suck me but I’m still frozen to the spot.

“You don’t mind do you?”

Again the hot breath across my exposed glands. The best I can do is frown.

“You don’t.”

She gently kissed the underside.

“Mind if”

Another kiss higher, and a lick.

“I suck your cock?”

And she plants a large wet kiss on the end, keeping eye contact the whole time. I shake my head and she takes the whole head into her warm wet mouth and sucks. It’s me that breaks eye contact as my head lolls back and I close my eyes. I let out a throaty groan. I feel her swirling tongue running over the head and poking into the hole as she sucks me rhythmically. She taking more of me in. slowly slowly, inch by inch, rhythmic sucking, gently rocking until her lips are at the base and she has all of me all the way to her throat. It feels fantastic. She slowly pulls her head back so every part of my cock feels the pleasure of her lips and there is an audible pop as I leave her sucking mouth. The sound and the sensation send small shock waves along my nerves. My entire length is slick with her saliva and she circles my length with thumb and forefinger softly moving up and down while her other hand gently teases and tickles my scrotum with the tips of her nails.

“Does your wife suck your cock?”

She kisses the head again while her fingers continue their magic. And again. And again kisses all over my raging hard on.

“Does she? Does she suck like this?”

The head is swallowed once, the tongue in the hole lapping, tasting.

I shake my head. Sam has never sucked me like this, never this well.

“No? Not like this? You mean not this good? “

She sucks the head hard, sending thrills through my being and I gasp out loud. Her tongue runs down my shaft till she can suck one of my balls into her mouth.

Our eyes fix on each other and I nod once.

“Not this well,” I admit.

A twinge of guilt as I consider that I’m betraying my wife to a virtual stranger. Not just in deed but in word. The latter seems worse. Betrayal in body and betrayal in spirit. The deed can be written off as meaningless. The word is considered. The word has meaning. She raises an eyebrow. Amused and pleased with herself, with my response, she gives a small giggle and my scrotum falls from her mouth. Smiling she blows me a kiss as her eyes widen as if a wonderful Idea has just occurred to her. Going back onto her haunches she escort bursa pulls my hand so I’m standing. Her hands cup my buttocks and pull me forward and my cock again disappears slowly into her. Along my shaft her lips hold tight and she sucks so her cheeks collapse. Her nails grip and dig in slightly forcing my to give a surprised yelp. Her lips are against my groin and she waggles her head as my cockhead is passed down her throat. She swallows and it feels like she’s milking me. I groan loudly and place my hands on her head to steady myself. Her head is withdrawn until her teeth graze over my sensitive glands. Using the coating of saliva she runs one hand up and down my length. Her other hand grasps one huge breast and she sucks on her own nipple. Hmmming and closing her eyes as if in ecstasy. Her eyes flash open with a wicked gleam and fix on mine. Seeing her suckle herself and feeling her wanking my hard cock is incredibly erotic. Her face breaks into a huge sexy smile as she pushed me back into my seated position.

“I know something else I’m better at.”

I watch transfixed as her breasts engulf me. She squeezes my cock between those soft welcoming warm breasts. I love how they feel around me. Sam’s A cups could never come close to this. Even in my heart and mind I was betraying my wife. Up and down my length the wonderful soft sheath ran. Sensations I’d never felt shot into my groin. She allowed the head to poke out the top and flicked her tongue over the tip. I’m thrusting involuntarily. I’m fucking her tits and still she is licking the head. Sucking the tip. It is driving me wild. Georgie sees I’m getting close and eases off a little. She strokes the sides. Both hands intertwine and run the length of my cock. She is licking and sucking again. All over. Every inch luxuriated in her attention. Over and over she takes me to the brink, only to throttle back at the last.

“Your pre-cum tastes so good. I know I’m going to love drinking your cum. But you know what goes so well with pre-cum?”

Her words stir my lust. I love listening to her dirty talk. While she is speaking one hand is between her own legs. Her speech become ragged and I twitch knowing where her fingers are. She pulls out her hand which glistens with her own juices.

“Pussy juice!” and she smears my cock in her secretions.

“God I forgot how wet I get sucking cock.”

Lowering her head she slurps her own juices off me.

“Mmmmm, that is finger lickin’ good!”

She winks and offers her fingers to my mouth. I suck on them hungrily. It tastes so hot. So sexy. I’m close to sexual delirium. This woman is driving me insane with lust. She is sucking me all the way down her throat again. I know I can’t take much more. So does she and I slide out of her hot mouth till only the tip is still inside. Her mouth gently opens and relinquishes my cock without actually removing it. Her breath sends shudders through me and her wicked smile keeps my heart racing. Her teeth tease and tantalise. Her breasts are sticky with her own juices. She has smeared herself liberally and wraps around my hard on once more. Slick and tight she fucks me with her big tits. Faster harder she goes bringing me back to my peak. My hands go out to those amazing breasts and my fingers sink in to their softness. So luxuriant to touch, so sexy and warm and yielding. And so very feminine.

“Oh yes baby, play with my tits. I love feel of your hands on them while they fuck your lovely hard cock. It’s hard for me isn’t it. Doesn’t it love being fucked by my big fat sexy tits? Cum for me baby. Cum between my tits, cum on my tits. Cum like your wife could never make you. Cum for a real woman. Cum for me.”

I feel my nuts tighten. It’s almost painful as they beg for release. Her tits are slippy with sweat and she is using them to ride my cock. I let out a low growl and she knows I’m imminent. Her tits are dropped, she sucks me hard into her mouth and her hands is wanking me furiously. My growl becomes a yell, becomes a roar. I start to shoot and she aims me at her chest which I coat with my jizz. Four large ropes of cum cover her magnificent tits and she sucks the last out in her mouth. Greedy for my cum she drains my balls and sucks me dry. I collapse back, panting heavily. Looking down at her she makes a show of rubbing my cum into her tits. She tweaks and pulls her hard nipples and massages my cream into them. She licks her fingers and half closes her eyes as if it’s the most delicious thing. She looks so incredibly sexy.

“I guess that’s not such a little secret we share.”

She taunts me and I wonder where this is going.

“Don’t worry Hun, I’m not a kiss and tell kind of girl.”

She stands and drags me up with her. Grabbing my dressing gown she forces my head towards hers and kisses me deeply. She tastes of sex and her large body is pressed up against mine. The soft warm feel of her flesh is so good I slide my hands inside her gown and pull her towards me. My hands grip and sink into her buttocks. I love the how she feels. Womanly, sexy. My cock is pressed against her large belly it is almost enveloped and we both notice it twitch and begin to harden.

She breaks the kiss and laughs.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir