Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20
The next morning after our encounter with my Mum, I rang her from the office. “Oh hallo Diana dear.” She said when she heard my voice.
“Hi Mum.” I said, “I’m ringing from the office.” I let that information sink in so that she would know that I’d have to be careful what I said to her. “I’m ringing to see how you are this morning.”
“I’m fine dear.” She said, “In fact I’m more than fine I’m ecstatic! I still can’t believe what you two did to me yesterday! You are a pair of naughty buggers!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed coming.” I said guardedly.
“How are you spelling that?” she said with a chuckle.
I smiled to myself and said “I think you know how it is spelt Mum..”
“I did not suspect anything you know.” She told me. “You did very well to keep it quiet.”
“I didn’t know what was going to happen!” I insisted. “Although Bob did mention that he thought you might like some cordial.”
“Indeed I would!” She replied, “Particularly poured into my cleavage then rubbed into my tits!”
“What about afterwards, would you prefer the same for afters that you had yesterday?” I asked cautiously.
“You mean the sex? Naturally I would like to do, or have it done to me again but I don’t want to impose on your good nature.”
“I don’t mind, I really don’t.” I told her honestly. “But there is one thing you could do for me.”
“We bought a long evening dress from a charity shop, I wondered if you could alter it for me.” I explained.
“Bring it round, I’ll be glad to see you and have a proper conversation.”
“Can I come round tonight?” I asked her.
“Of course! About seven.”
So it was that I drove round to Mum’s that night. On the way, I dropped a note in at Alison’s flat, inviting her out to dinner in a posh restaurant on Saturday night. (It was Bob’s idea) I left our home telephone number for her to ring me back.
When I got to Mum’s, I showed her the dress straight away before we got talking about the weekend just gone. “You know Diana, this is very good quality dress.” She told me. “It is pure silk. Of course the style is a bit too old for you, but if you give me carte blanche to do as I see fit with it. I think you’d be very pleased with the results.”
“Go ahead, it only cost a tenner, so even it is scrapped it really doesn’t matter.” I said.
“So I can do what I want with it? Then I need to take a couple more measurements.”
There was a bit of a pause the almost in unison, we both said “About the weekend………” We laughed and I said “you first.”
“Very well.” She agreed. ” I think you know how much I enjoyed what happened, and I would be averse to having something similar occur again in the future. But for now just let me revel in the sweet, sweet memories that it engenders in my mind.”
“I’m sure that Bob would be happy to oblige.” I told her.
“No! I don’t want your husband coming round here alone and we fuck!” She said emphatically. “If we do something similar again, I want it to involve all three of us. Perhaps you can convince me of the merit of tipping food over each other!”
“Mum, I love you.” I told her with tears in my eyes. “So many parents would not have understood.”
“It was a surprise of course, that’s why I disappeared so quickly. Young people have always experimented with sex for fun, your father and I were no exception.” She said quietly.
“What did you do?” I asked, “You mentioned that he liked to rip your panties, but nothing else.”
“No Diana, I won’t tell you that, I shouldn’t have mentioned the panties thing, it was a slip of the tongue. I want to keep some memories of Geoffrey, I suppose as a enduring secret, that only I know.” She told me gently, and I understood. “Besides,” She added, “Who wants to hear about the sexual adventures of a mother in her late forties?”
“I would be glad to listen to your stories Mum.” I replied.
“Well then maybe someday, but not yet.”
We had a general discussion about the dress alteration, with nothing specific being decided. “How daring can I make it?” she asked.
“If you would have worn it to dinner, -that will be fine with me.” I said. With that, I took my leave.
When I got home, Bob greeted me with a big hug and a kiss, this was not that unusual, but there was something about his demeanour that caused me to ask, “What has happened?”
“Alison has been on the phone, she tells me that you have instructed her to wear something diaphanous for our next date, the invitation to which she has accepted with alacrity!”
I laughed. “I said something flimsy, but I suppose the two could be the same.”
“I trust you are going to heed your own advice.” He said.
“I certainly hope to, but it all depends on my condition and my Mum.” I told him.
“The curse, I understand.” Said he, “But I didn’t get the connection with your Mum.”
“She is altering that dress we bought at the charity shop. She has insisted on a completely free hand in what she does to it.”
He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Can I ring her and give her some guidance?” he said güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri smiling.
“No you cannot!” I retorted. “I worried enough about it as it is.”
“Because she asked me how daring she could make it!”
“Wow! What did you tell her?” he asked.
I grimaced, “I’m beginning to regret it now, but I told her if she would have worn it to dinner, that it would be fine. The problem is, I think she might have thought I meant to a private dinner party, not to a public restaurant!”
He laughed out loud. “Good old Caroline! I hope she comes up trumps.”
“She wasn’t so old when you dipped your wick in her yesterday!” I exclaimed digging him in the ribs.
We had dinner in front of the television, not something that we would normally do, but there was a big match that Bob wanted to see. Later in bed, we had a kiss and a cuddle, but I wasn’t really in the mood to go too much further, so we slept the sleep of the contented.
The week seemed to fly by and by Friday night I was pleased to find that my period had stopped. I phoned Mum to see how she was getting on with the dress. “But it’s finished dear, didn’t Bob tell you? He collected it last night.”
“What have you done to it/” I asked, making a mental note to have a sharp word with my husband.
“I’ve just altered the neckline a bit, and because you’ve such nice legs, I slit it up the thigh a bit. I think you’ll like it, Bob certainly does. Oh! And as it is such fine silk, with such a nice pattern printed on it, I’ve taken out the lining.”
“Slit it to the thigh.”
“I heard that bit Mum, what was that about taking out the lining. And how far up the thigh?”
“It’s a lovely translucent silk and you’ll see the slit when you try it on. I’m very jealous of being too old to wear it myself.”
“Thank you Mum” I said faintly wondering what I had let myself in for.
When Bob arrived home that evening, I asked him, “Have you got something to show me?”
“Yes. He said, “Take a look at this!” He dropped his trousers and showed his penis.
“Not that, I’ll deal with that in a minute.” I snorted. “Have you got a dress to show me?”
“Yes, I have it’s in the car, It’s very sexy you’ll love it. Alison thinks it is super.”
“You’ve shown Alison!” I was getting mad with him now. If he carried on like this he wouldn’t be getting the blow job I was intending to give him.
“I had to!” He pleaded. “Otherwise how would she know what to wear?”
“What is she going to wear, as a result of her seeing my dress before I have?”
“Well, having seen your dress, she tells me it will be something very daring.” He said in reply.
“Will she…..?” I thought to myself.
I banished all other thoughts to the back of my mind, because having promised myself I would blow him, I couldn’t really do anything else – could I? I knelt before him and took Pokey Percy into my mouth. I employed some of the tactics I saw my mother use (You are never too old to learn) and soon had him in a fit state to spurt. Quite often I like him to cum over me either in my face or down the front of anything I am wearing, but this time I was going to swallow. Don’t get me wrong I had often done it before, but I felt the need to have his seed sliding down my throat. The fact that we had not had sex all week, meant that he had plenty of semen in his balls and I wanted all of it.
I was not disappointed. He shot and I gulped it all down. My mouth was filled with the white, warm sticky substance. I loved it and made sure my mouth was empty, with not drop spilt before I stood to kiss him on the mouth. I wanted to make sure that he could not taste himself on my lips. That load of spunk was for me!
He was (for the moment) satisfied, so when I pushed him back on to the settee, he did not resist. I quickly dropped my skirt and panties and knelt on his shoulders. This was my time. I began to masturbate literally an inch from his face. We both knew what was going to happen, neither of us wanted it to stop. Because I was doing myself I brought my orgasm on quite quickly. My juices splashed his face and my thighs and I almost completely came into his open mouth.
I dragged my wet labia all down his shirt front as I slid down to bring our mouths together. “You sexy little bitch!” he exclaimed. “You dirty little cunt! I’ve a good mind to spit into your wet slit!” For some reason these insults turned me more than you might expect. They re-lit my libido so I shuddered and suddenly wanted him to do as he threatened. I rolled over backwards and presented my soaking vulva to him. He sat up and leant forward, cleared his throat and spat at the loving slit that he had occupied so many times before. Twice more he spat, bang on target each time. Then he began to work the spittle into me. As he did so, I thrashed about in ecstasy swearing and cursing at him not to even think about stopping what he was doing.
It was not long of course before I came again with him have three of his fat fingers in my pussy, leaking all over his hand. When he güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri eventually withdrew, I sat up immediately and grabbing his hand in mine thrust those same three fingers into my mouth, licking them clean. I was still wet down below, so with his free hand, he wiped me dry and then rubbed the mixture over my blouse, taking particular care to massage my tiny tits through the fabric.
His face was now over mine, so I was a prime target for something, he had developed the spittle idea by dropping saliva into my mouth which he was now holding open. I lapped it up, then he spoke. “There’s an idea for you to try with a mouthful of spunk with Alison.” I almost wetted myself with glee at that thought.
All this was before we’d had dinner, so it had to be something quick and easy to prepare. So it was, but we washed in all down with a nice bottle of wine, threw the dishes into the washer and went to bed.
After all our activity, we just lay there and talked. “…..Ready for another trip to the market tomorrow?” Bob asked.
“Yes. I need some more kitchen cleaner.” I told him.
He laughed and said. “If Alison is coming round, you’d better buy in bulk!”
“I always do!” I told him “That’s why I buy off the market!” I thought for a minute, “By the way, I still haven’t seen the dress.”
“Leave it until its time to get ready to go out, it will add to the excitement.” I wasn’t sure I agreed with him, but was too tired to argue the point.
The next morning (Saturday) we headed as usual to the market. The weather, although dry and reasonably warm did not look as promising as it had the previous week. I wore a white blouse with a slightly flared miniskirt. As the skirt was flared I insisted on wearing panties. However these were not much more that a couple of handkerchiefs. They were tiny, white and tie sided. On my feet I wore flip flops.
As had now become the custom, we went on the bus leaving the car behind. I sat by the window, Bob sat alongside me. We started on the (long) shopping list and by lunchtime we were both flagging and well loaded with bags. We went into one of the town centre pubs for lunch. We found a table and I surrounded myself with the shopping whilst Bob went and got some sandwiches and beer.
When he arrived back at the table, I noticed that he had bought two pints of bitter. “I only wanted a half!” I complained.
“Well drink what you can and I’ll take care of the rest.” He replied. We sat enjoying the atmosphere in the pub and our snack lunch, when who should walk in but Celia. Remember her? She was the one who took me to her flat and gave me my first lesbian experience. I of course knew her quite (very!) well, but Bob knew of her rather than actually knew her.
“Hello Diana!” she said, “I suppose this must be that fabulous husband that you keep going on about.”
“I’m Bob.” Said he, shaking her hand. “If you’re going to continue to say nice things like that, You can stay. Can I get you a drink?
“I’m Celia, and thank you I’ll have a lime and lemon please.”
“Would you like a vodka in it?” Bob asked with a grin.
“Oh. Go on then but don’t tell anyone!” she said with a laugh.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” I told her.
“Oh yes? What about?”
“That night at yours.”
“Yes it was lovely wasn’t it? Would you like to do it again?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I said. “In a word, yes.”
Bob re-appeared with Celia’s drink by which time she had her hand on my thigh under the table. I was not sure that Bob noticed, (he had, as I discovered later) but he gave no indication of doing so. He kept on a polite conversation with Celia as her hand slid further up my leg. With her fingers just brushing against the front of my panties, I found it very difficult to follow the thread of the conversation, leave alone make any serious coherent contribution. Eventually Celia announced that she would have to go. Her parting words to me that she would see me at work on Monday.
“She can certainly talk, can’t she?” Bob asked as we watched walk towards the door of the pub. I nodded. “Shall we make a move then, where do you want to go next?”
“Home.” I told him still somewhat dazed by what just happened.
As we stood waiting for the bus it started to rain. Quite gently at first, but just as we saw the bus approaching, the heavens opened. Here was a dilemma. Do we run for shelter and miss the bus or just stand there, getting soaked and have a ride home?
We decided to wait for the bus to arrive, getting drenched in the process. The bus turned up and we climbed aboard. Our clothes clung to us like second skins. I was aware that both Bob’s shirt and my blouse had gone transparent. Bob’s fine physique was clearly demonstrated and indeed on view to the other passengers. My skinny frame (and my prominent nipples) could also be seen. That wasn’t the end of it because we had a 200 yard walk at the other end of the journey from the bus stop to our house.
The rain had not abated when we arrived at our stop. We had too much shopping güvenilir bahis şirketleri to run very fast carrying it, so we just walked at our normal pace, giggling as we went. One thing was for sure, we would not be any wetter, had we been in the river! By the time we reached our front door, my short skirt was stuck to my legs and the size shape and lack of opacity of my panties was clear to all. My blouse could just have easily not existed for the amount of cover that it offered. Having said that, I thought that Bob’s shirt having the same properties as my blouse, looked quite sexy! . I like to think that he had the same opinion of me as I had of him. Luckily for him he was wearing dark Bermuda shorts. So nothing below his wait was particularly revealed
We entered the house and just stood looking at each other laughing as we dripped water on the floor. The first job was to sort out the shopping to see if anything had been ruined by getting wet. Luckily nothing much had, although some cut flowers looked to be ready for the bin. “I hope it’s not raining like this tonight!” I said with some passion, “Or there will be three very wet patrons at the restaurant.”
“I’ve always liked the look of women in wet clothes!” Bob remarked with a grin.
We put away the shopping and got showered and changed into normal clothes. This actually took some time because the two of us in the shower together invariably leads to one thing. This occasion was no different. I knelt in front of Bob and pulled down his shorts, (we were both still dressed at this point). In support of me not wearing a bra he had not worn any underpants. I took hold of his penis, which was quite soft and held his foreskin in my teeth, I was not biting but I knew that he was feeling vulnerable. This however did not stop him starting to harden up and soon I was able to move my mouth to his scrotum taking big mouthfuls of testicle between licking all round them and when he adjusted his stance, putting my tongue flat against his perineum. This always gets him going.
I knocked the water off and lay down on the floor of the shower cubicle. “Cum all over me.” I told him. “Over my clothes, my belly, my tits, face and hair. Smother me in your dirty cum!”
“Don’t worry about that, you sexy little bitch!” He gasped as he was getting near. “You’re gonna get drowned in cum!” He was right too. Because of his height as he stood over me, he shot my full length from my belly to the top of my head. He then sank to his knees and took a handful of my long hair and drained the last of his semen into it. As he often does, he rubbed it well in. This time because my hair was already wet, some of the effect was lost. “Stay there!” he grunted as he raised himself to a standing position.
“I know what you’re going to do!” I told him. “You’re going to p………….sss.”
I stopped because he was already drenching me in piss. He sprayed me from top to toe, concentrating mostly on my face. I loved it as his yellow pee stained my blouse and then saturated my face as I rolled my head from side to side. When he had finished, he joined me on the floor and fingered me to a climax. I shuddered as the orgasm wracked through me. Then he got me to straddle him so my vagina was just above his balls. “Piss over my balls.” He told me. I tried but couldn’t immediately, so he pulled my face down to his and we kissed while he diddled my urethra, which soon had my waters flowing. The only thing was I was now peeing over his belly rather than his genitalia but as it was pouring in that direction anyway, we did not change positions.
When we had finished kissing, I whispered “I love you Bob.”
“Was it all right for you?” He asked.
“It would have been better if I’d had dry clothes on before we started.” I replied.
He laughed and said “I’ll remember that for next time.”
“Do.” I told him, “I love the feeling of my clothes getting wetter naturally from your prick.”
We then had a proper shower and went downstairs in bathrobes for a bit of afternoon tea, before watching a bit of TV before getting ready to go out for the evening. As I slumped there on the settee, I realised that I still hadn’t seen my dress since Mum had altered it. “I wonder what my dress will look like when I have it on?” I idly mused, half to myself, but also loud enough for Bob to hear.
“Very sexy!” He told me. “In fact I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off you in public!”
I giggled. “I hope you can’t! But don’t forget you said that Alison was going to wear some very daring too!”
“I shall treat you both the same.” He replied.
“Does that mean you’ll be groping her too?” I asked.
“Very probably.” I was amused at the thought. I certainly hope to grope Alison quite a bit myself.
It came time to get ready, Bob phoned Alison to see if she was a) still up for it and b) nearly ready. “Tell Diana, it will take only a few seconds to get dressed!” she replied.
“Diana, put on your dress, we’re leaving!” Bob called up stairs. He was wrong on one count. I already had on my dress and was staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was, in equal parts, horrified, delighted and excited. Horrified because of what I could see – namely pretty well everything. Delighted because the dress was beautiful and although I say it myself, it made me look good too. I was excited at the prospect of wearing the dress out in public.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20