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Bedtime stories number 6
Breaking up with a knockout girlfriend is not the typical way to start the sexual adventure of a lifetime, but I’m happy to say it was for me. If Chantelle hadn’t dumped me, I would never have met Marjorie and Edith. Now, I know what you are thinking from the names alone. Yes, Chantelle was 29, slim, attractive and high maintenance, and Marjorie and Edith could not have had ten years between them before they were collecting their pensions, but they were not second prize by any means. I’ll tell you my story and you can judge for yourselves.
By the way, I’m Jeff 39, tall, brown-haired and not yet gone to seed. I can wear a suit and not look like I’m going to a court appearance; which is good because I sell industrial kitchen equipment to everyone from five-star hotels to factory cafes. You have to get on with all sorts of people, including up their own arse interior designers, like the one advising on the refit at the big architectural practice where I met Chantelle. I think he gave me a hard time because she was more interested in me than him and sided with my suggestions. She was the managing director’s PA, saddled with the job of organising the refit of the staff canteen. Chantelle was out of her depth, but I took her to one side and explained how to project manage the job. She did well, and the project was a success. `How can I ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me?’ she said over a glass of champagne to celebrate the opening. That evening she was on her back in my flat, paying for the discount I’d given her on the equipment. I said my management consultancy advice was pro bono. She asked if that meant I was going to fuck her again. I said that’s exactly what it meant.
We lasted six months until the managing director promoted her to a new position. I think it was sitting on his face in his London pied-à-terre while his wife and kids were safely ensconced in a six-bed detached in Hampshire. I thought the experience weekend surprise package I’d bought for us would go to waste when Chantelle gave me her own surprise. A proper Dear John letter. Nice to know the art of penmanship is alive, and classier than sending me an Insta photo of her jumping the bones of some headless bloke. So, as it was a no refunds deal, I decided a weekend in the Cotswolds was just the change of scene I needed to get over my loss. I thought of asking a mate to come with me, but it was not the thing you’d go to with another bloke. Unless you were gay.
I arrived just in time for dinner on the Friday night, following a mare of a journey on the M4 from London. Reception said I just had time to drop my bags and change before aperitifs. That should have warned me about the age of the crowd the event targeted. I mingled with middle-aged and retired guests, holding a glass of something fizzy and trying not to do a B movie James Bond impression in my dinner jacket. A quick glance at assembly suggested I’d be heading home after a leisurely breakfast in the morning. There were twenty couples all looking very married, including the obligatory gay couple, who it turned out had become grandfathers before acknowledging their sexual identity. Fair play to them, I thought. It looked like I’d be playing gooseberry until a lady approached me.
“Excuse me sir, are you waiting for your partner to arrive?” I put her at early sixties. Her heavy platinum blonde bob framed an attractive face and a welcoming smile. She must have been a real looker in her youth and had not lost too much middle age. She wore a black Grecian style evening dress with a bodice designed to draw the eye. So, I did not disappoint her. I lingered on her chest a moment too long, but her smile said you’re welcome.
“If I was, it would be for another lifetime. We parted recently. I didn’t want our booking to go to waste.”
She put a consoling hand on my arm. I felt a ripple go through me. “Sorry. I hope it was not too painful.”
“Thank you. We were only together six months, so no actual damage done. Are you here alone too?” She had deep blue eyes and the prospect of spending the evening looking into them was attractive. She blushed at my interest.
“No, I’m here with my friend Marjorie.” She leaned in and I smelt her perfume and fell into the trap of her breasts. “We’re not a couple.”
I looked at the two gay guys. “I don’t think it’s a requirement yet.”
She laughed. “Forgive me for being forward, but would you care to partner us in the weekend’s activities? “She made it sound like she had propositioned me and I held her gaze for a long moment, pondering what might be on offer.
“On one condition. You tell your name.”
She blushed. “Silly me, I’m Edith.” She offered me her slim hand to shake and looked me in the eye. Her gaze made my cock lurch and I think she heard it. I never thought I’d be interested in a woman old enough to be my mother, but most women my mother’s age did not look like Edith.
We found Marjorie sitting at a table studying a hand-written list in a small notebook. Our arrival took her Şişli escort by surprise.
“Marjorie, this is Jeff. He’s on his own this weekend and has generously offered to accompany us in the activities.” Marjorie seemed to take a moment to process her friend’s information, then she smiled. It took my breath away. It transformed her round, middle-aged face. Her hairstyle was a grown-out youthful pixie cut with a ragged fringe. Black and cut into the nape. With her smile, it took twenty years off her.
Edith noticed my reaction. “She won’t tell me how she does that.” It was my turn to be embarrassed. Marjorie stood and offered her hand. She wore a similar sleeveless evening dress, but this one had an empire line. The high waist started just under her fulsome bust and hid her heavier build. Marjorie was also in good nick for her age.
“It’s a trade secret, “said Marjorie, giving me another one. I fanned myself in a mock swoon and both ladies laughed.
The dinner gong sounded, and I offered them both an arm. “Look at me, big time Charlie bringing his wife and his girlfriend out for the evening.”
“I didn’t know you were a Frenchman, Jeff” said Edith, and we all laughed. This weekend would not be the washout I’d feared.
The `Who done it’ dinner theatre was wonderful and everybody was friendly and enjoying a delightful time. I’d long grown tired of clubbing nightlife and thought if this is what the future holds for me, I’d look forward to it. Edith and Marjorie sat me between them and conversation pinged across me. I discovered they were next-door neighbours. Marjorie widowed three years, while Edith’s husband was less considerate and ran off with her friend five years ago. Maybe it was the drink, but I said, `Why would anyone leave you?’ she gave me a glassy-eyed smile and squeezed my leg. Another three inches to the right and she’d have had a handful of my straining cock. She saw the concern on my face and withdrew her hand. `Sorry’ she said slyly, not fooling anyone.
We’d won a bottle of champagne for guessing the murderer and were merry on its contents. Marjorie had less capacity for drink than her friend and leaned on my shoulder when she spoke so I could hear her above the noise of the conversation. She had that delightful look of a woman who’d had just enough alcohol to enjoy a ravishing but not enough to pass out or throw up. I looked in her chestnut eyes.
“What are you thinking Jeff?”
“I’ll let you read my mind, Marjorie.” My expression required no interpretation.
She flushed and gripped the table. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d just come. “Jeff, I don’t know what to say.” She looked away embarrassed. I tilted her chin towards me.
“How about do that to me again?” I gripped her thigh under the table, feeling the clasp of a suspender. I wanted to grab her head and kiss her right in front of everyone. Edith took my other hand and put it on her thigh. I felt the bulge of her skin at the top of her hold up stockings. I looked at Edith, whose expression suggested she wanted it as much as me.
People were getting up, and I suggested we join them at the bar. I wanted to get the two of them up to my room without anyone noticing our absence. There was one problem. “Edith, do you think you could stand in front of me while I get up?”
She gave me a sly look. “Why’s that Jeff?”
I whispered in her ear. “I’ll show you why in five minutes.” I gave her a peck on the nape and she sighed. Edith stood up, shielding my tenting trousers from the other diners as I rose. I didn’t expect it when she backed onto my cock. “Jesus, Edith, do you want me to come right here?”
Marjorie had seen none of this and, still seated, looked a bit out of it. “Oh dear. It’s the champagne. She shouldn’t have had it with the pills she’s on, but she looked so happy,” said Edith.
We both helped her up, and it was easy to see she was unwell, not drunk. “Will you help me get her to our room, Jeff?”
We said goodnight to the other guests who hoped Marjorie would feel better in the morning. She was full of apologies in the lift. “I’m very sorry. One minute I was fine and the next bang. I’ve spoiled the evening, haven’t I?” She became tearful. I held her head up and kissed her gently. “Don’t be silly. We’ve had a lovely evening and there’s tomorrow to come.” She put her head on my chest. “He’s such a lovely man, Edith. I’m glad you spoke to him.” I looked over at Edith, who mouthed `thank you’.
I got them to their room and said goodnight. Edith asked me to wait while she took Marjorie in. She was back moments later.
“Will she be okay?”
“Yes, she can sleep it off. You’ll be okay too, Jeff.” She pulled my head down to her and kissed me. Her tongue was in my mouth, hands messing my hair. I ground my cock against her stomach and held her arse in both hands. The kissing went on until we heard the lift doors open. We pulled away, breathless. “That was from both of us. Tomorrow you won’t get away so easily.” She jumped back in the room and Sultangazi escort bayan closed the door.
A crowed from the lift came down the corridor and I pretended to open their door with my card key. I just wanted them to pass so they could not see my erection. I got back to my room and I swear I did not touch it. `It just went off in my hand, officer.’
I played it by ear at breakfast and when they didn’t appear; I thought they were embarrassed and avoiding me. Five minutes before they stopped serving, the two of them rushed in. Edith to the buffet and Marjorie to me. She wore a sundress and wedge sandals. I looked up and there was that smile again.
“I’m so sorry, Jeff. I should have remembered those tablets. Can you forgive me?” She leant forward and presented the valley of her braless breasts.
“Good god Marjorie, can’t I even finish my breakfast before you’ve given me another hard on?”
She giggled and took that as absolution and flopped into the spare seat, grabbing a slice from my toast rack.
Edith turned up with two plates for them. “Morning Jeff. Are we good?” She looked lovely. She wore a wrap over summer dress held closed by a buckle at her hip. In my mind, I was undoing it and opening the folds of material to reveal her nakedness. My thoughts must have been written across my face because Edith said, “I think he’s forgiven us.”
It would be a long, hard day.
The smallest acts became foreplay. Their hands suggestively moulding the ingredients in the sushi making class. The way their chests jutted out in the archery competition and the croquet, all that cleavage on display as they bent over to strike the ball. I thought I would be better off behind them, but their arses in the air were just as bad. They were enjoying my discomfort and gave my cock the occasional discrete brush just to keep me on the boil.
I tried to divide and conquer. I sidled up to Edith after croquette and whispered. “Let’s skip tea and go upstairs. I want to fuck you raw.”
“Jeffrey, there are scones and clotted cream. I’m sure your cream will last a little longer.”
Marjorie was not so resolute. “Marjorie, come upstairs with me now. I want to stick my cock between your magnificent tits and spunk in your face.” She whimpered and bit her lip, but Edith rescued her. Come along Marjorie before Jeffrey leads you astray.”
I got my own back at dinner when their wandering hands tried to grab my cock under the table. We were on these big round tables. I batted them away and slid my hands along their thighs. They’d both worn long dresses again this evening, and it took me ages to ruck the material into their laps so my hands could wander across their thighs and stocking tops. Again, Marjorie wore suspenders on hers as her thighs were full. Edith wore these tarty fishnet holdups, which could only be seen at her black strappy stiletto sandals. She looked so classy, and the thought she’d dressed like a whore underneath had my imagination in overdrive.
A close quarters magician entertained us for an hour with sleight of hand and card tricks and a rather good mind reading ploy. It inspired me. “You know each other well, don’t you girls? Do you think you could read each other’s mind? I bet you could.” By now I was stroking the wet gussets of their knickers as discretely as any guy trying to finger two women at the dinner table can.
“How would you do that? said Marjorie. She eased forward in her seat and spread her legs, allowing my hand to slip inside her knickers. Her fleshy cunt was smooth and wet, and two fingers slid in. She sighed and arched forward. “I shaved it this morning. That’s why I was late for breakfast.”
“We both did” said Edith. “She pulled the crotch of her knickers aside and I felt her slim-lipped pussy. “What are you going to do now, Jeff?” Edith dared.
I squeezed Marjorie’s meaty clit between my fingers; she came with a snort, halfway between a sneeze and a scream. Heads turned, and I withdrew my hands from both girls. Marjorie leant forward, elbows on the table. She dabbed her brow with a serviette.
“Are you all right, dear?” said a man opposite. His smile suggested he had half an inkling of what I was up to. His po faced wife was just annoyed we had interrupted her monologue.
“I think I just need some fresh air” said Marjorie. She leaned across me and whispered to Edith, who met her halfway. “Jeff made me cum so hard, I think I’ve peed myself.”
I discretely lifted my hand to scratch my chin and sniffed my fingers. “Don’t worry Marjorie, it’s not pee, it’s just fanny juice. “She grabbed my fingers and smelled for herself.
“But there was so much, I was sure—”
“That’s my first magic trick for the evening, ladies. Anyone can turn water into wine.”
Edith groaned. “You’re so full of it, mister.”
“I’m not, but she was. It will be safer if I perform my next trick upstairs.” I stood up and held the back of Marjorie’s seat. She got up, and I saw the big damp patch on the chair and the Escort Taksim dark patch on her pale blue dress. “I need to walk close behind you, Marjorie. Just in case you slip.” I leaned back so Edith could see the patch and she nodded.
Finally, we were back in their room, and I wasted no time in setting about them. I grabbed Marjorie and pulled the zip of her dress down just enough to get it off her shoulders and get her hefty tits out of her bra. My mouth moved from one brownish nipple to another and she groaned against me. “You’ve teased me all day with these you sexy bitch, now you are going to get it.” Or she would have if Edith had not chosen that moment to rub against my back. I felt behind me. She’d removed her dress. Sheer lacy knickers met my searching fingers. She’d hooked her thigh around mine and rubbed the coarse fishnet against my thigh. It was my turn to groan. They sandwiched me between their hot flesh. Edith pulled my jacket off and Marjorie attacked my shirt. I had to slow down her fumbling fingers. `I’m so excited, Jeff. It’s like I’m in a porn film.”
Edith nibbled at my exposed neck. “Marjorie is a big fan of internet pornography since her husband died. He would never let her use the computer.”
“Now I know why, the dirty bastard. Do you know the stuff people do and put up there for everyone to see, Jeff?”
I laughed, “What, like this you mean?”
She slapped me. “Edith, be a dear and get my list and the camera.” Edith huffed, and I sighed. She’d been doing a sterling job nibbling my earlobe. By the time she came back, I had Marjorie out of her dress. She was down to a substantial white bra, which now threw her tits at me. Below she wore a foundation garment, an ivory-coloured elasticised girdle with suspender straps attached to tan coloured stockings. Her soaked knickers were trapped between her meaty flaps. Not Victoria’s Secret, but my cock was not complaining.
“I’m sorry I’m such a fat old thing. You must think I’m the booby prize.” It was such a sad thing to say.
I looked from her to Edith. “Her husband was not a kind man. He’d go to massage parlours and spend a fortune on skinny Chinese whores and then come back and tell Marjorie about it. Jeff’s, not like that. Look at his cock. When did Eddie ever greet you with a cock like that?” Edith’s consolations lifted her friend.
“No more of that, hey?” I held her face and kissed Marjorie’s tears. “This is the most fun I’ve had for years. Isn’t that so, boy?” I twitched my cock against her leg and she laughed. “What’s this list about?”
“She’s done a lot of research. It’s what she wants you to do to her. It’s your list Marjorie, you read it.”
Marjorie held it out, trying to get focus without her glasses. I glanced at Edith. She looked gorgeous. She had womanly hips, but the rest of her was amazingly trim. A firm bust still winning the fight against gravity, a tiny tummy mound like the early days of pregnancy when you’re not sure and lovely toned arms. If Marjorie was not so fragile, I’d have grabbed Edith right away. She read it in my eyes and mouthed the word `later’ and nodded at Marjorie. She was such a sympathetic friend.
Marjorie got her eye in. “Here I am, Marjorie’s sex list.”
I stood behind her, reading over her shoulder and juggling her tits. “I can’t read your writing, what does it say?” I could read her bullet pointed shopping list, but I wanted to make her say the words.
“I would like Jeff to
•Finger my pussy till I come
•Stick his cock between my tits and come in my face
•Make me suck his cock and balls
•Fuck me doggy style
•Fuck me upside down
•Fuck me in the bum (if it doesn’t hurt)
•Take lots of pictures of it all”
I whistled. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me. I hope you’ve got a long-lasting battery in there, Edith.”
She turned on the old digital camera, and the warning light flashed. “Oh, Marjorie. You forgot to charge it up!”
“No problem, use my phone. Leave it on video and you can take stills of the ones you like. “I showed Edith the controls, and she sat in the chair while I lay Marjorie on the bed. Once I got her out of the bra, her tits were still shapely with pert nipples despite their size. I rolled them in my mouth and nipped each one between my teeth. Marjorie squirmed around on the bed and grabbed my cock In both hands. One squeezed my balls, the other smeared my pre-cum around the head. She pulled me up the bed and I straddled her head, one foot on the floor, the other on the pillow. Marjorie sucked my cock and ran her nails down the back of my balls. A shiver went down my spine. If she carried on like this, I wouldn’t get far on her list. I didn’t want to disappoint Edith, who was enjoying the show.
“He’s got a lovely cock, Edith. Proper foreskin and no big varicose veins.” Marjorie ran her tongue around the head and teased the eye, making me twitch. Her teeth nipped me down the shaft before she sucked on each ball. She could give any girl I knew a run for their money in the blow job department. “I hope you are getting all this, Edith. I sensed her behind me and then her tongue flicked the top of my arse crack. The phone camera appeared between my legs, just below my swinging balls. Marjorie smiled for the camera before going back to sucking. She was making the most erotic noises.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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