“So, tell me about your parents.”
Sandra eased my cock from my pants, stroked it very gently and watched fascinated as the swelling head emerged from the foreskin. It was a game she played: starting an ostensibly serious conversation while indulging in outrageous foreplay. I was not going to let her win.
“They`re about as different from yours as it`s possible to imagine,” I said.
“In what way?”
She pulled the foreskin back and traced small circles with one long-nailed finger around my pee hole.
“Phil?”
I cleared my throat. “Well, you know how tactile yours are, with each other and with you? Mine aren`t like that at all.”
“I seem to remember my mom getting pretty tactile with you.”
She had moistened her finger and was now tracing widening circles around the engorged head of my penis.
“Well, yes. I`m not saying it runs in the family. I`m pretty tactile. But my parents aren`t.”
“They must have been at one time, to produce you and your sister.”
Sandra moistened her finger again and stroked the underside of my cock where the thin, elastic strip of the frenulum joined the head.
“You like that, don`t you?”
“I do.”
“How about this?” She lowered her head and licked the same, supremely sensitive spot several times.
The frog in my throat had returned. “I like that, too.”
“So, when was the last time you hugged your mom or dad?”
“Last time I visited. A few months ago. When we were saying hello and goodbye.”
“Poor baby,” Sandra said, sliding her hand down my cock and giving it a few exploratory strokes.
“So, what do they look like?”
“You`ve seen pictures of them, on my phone.”
“I know, but I want you to describe them. Take your time.”
Sandra was now licking my cock slowly from base to head, not missing an inch.
“Well, Dad`s tall and thin, a bit like me. He`s got some hair left, but it’s mostly grey. He`s got a big, sharp nose, like a beak. He always reminds me of a bird, but a shy, quiet one.”
“He sounds cute.” She placed her mouth over the end of my cock, swirling her tongue around the head.
“He is. In his way.”
“And your mom?” Each time she spoke she removed her mouth from my cock with a popping sound. I was finding it hard to concentrate.
“Phil?” Pop. “Your mom?” Pop.
“Medium height. Short wavy hair. Nice eyes.”
“Big bosoms?” Pop.
“Yes. No. I`ve never really noticed.”
“Bigger than mine?” She paused to cup in her hands her small, perfectly formed breasts. She wasn`t wearing a bra.
“I guess. Like I say, I`ve never taken much notice.”
Sandra returned her attentions to my cock, pulling my pants down and freeing my balls.
“What do they do?” she asked.
“They release seminal fluid into the glans penis for the purpose of procreation.”
“Not your balls. Your parents.”
“I`ve told you before.”
“Well, tell me again. Don`t rush.” She took one of my balls in her mouth and began to suck.
I coughed lightly. “Dad`s retired and Mom works as an accountant in an office.”
“How does your dad spend his time now he`s retired?” She was now rolling the second ball around her mouth.
“Don`t laugh, but he`s taken up bird-watching.”
She released my balls with another disconcerting pop and ran her tongue the length of my cock. “I`m not laughing,” she said. “Tell me about your mother. Does she have to dress smart for work?”
“She does, as a matter of fact. Usually a suit, or skirt and blouse.”
“And what underneath?” She put her mouth round the head of my cock and began to massage the shaft. I was beginning to sweat.
“Underneath?”
She sucked and stroked for a while longer before replying. “What does your mother wear underneath her smart skirts?”
“I don`t know. Stockings, I guess. Pantyhose.”
“Which?” She tightened her grip on the shaft of my penis.
“Stockings!” I shouted, barely in control. “I remember now. It`s stockings. What does it matter?”
“It matters,” she said, stroking vigorously, “because I want to take her something as a gift. And your father, too.”
She dipped her head and slowly took the whole length of my throbbing member into her mouth. For a few moments there was nothing but the sound of slapping and Sandra gagging slightly as I thrust my cock in and out, making contact with the back of her throat. Finally, she came up for air.
“You`ve given me a couple of ideas,” she gasped, wanking my wet cock hard and fast, “so I`m going to give you a reward.”
She positioned her open mouth above my cock and looked into my eyes.
“Cum in my mouth, baby” she said, and with a final, expert pull released the flood of spunk which had been building up for the last fifteen minutes. I had reached the guttural stage and did not attempt further speech as I watched spurt after spurt of hot cum disappear into her waiting mouth. When she had squeezed out every last drop, she swallowed extravagantly and showed me her empty mouth. Suddenly business-like, she tucked Magosa Escort my drooping cock back into my pants and dragged me to my feet.
“Come on,” she said. “Let`s get packing.”
I awoke later than intended in my parents` guest room. The long drive must have tired me out more than I thought. Sandra`s side of the bed was empty, and I thought I would just have five minutes lie-in before getting up myself. Hardly had I closed my eyes, however, when the door burst open and my mother strode into the room. She flung open the curtains and stood for a moment gazing out of the window.
“Morning, Mom,” I said.
Mom jumped visibly and brought her arms up to cover her chest in the defensive gesture of a woman taken by surprise. She was wearing a white bathrobe.
“Phil!” she said. “I`m so sorry. I had no idea you were still in here. I should have knocked.”
“It`s okay, Mom. I was about to get up anyway.”
“I really am sorry. You know what I`m like about tidying up.”
I certainly did know. Mom was an obsessive cleaner and tidier. The house was never less than spotless and rarely was anything out of place. Thinking Sandra and I were up, she would have come in for a quick tidy.
“Have you seen Sandra?” I asked.
“She`s down on the terrace, having breakfast with your dad.” Her gaze returned to the window. This was obviously what had caught her attention when she had drawn the curtains. She seemed somehow discomfited, fiddling nervously with the lapels of her bathrobe. “They sure seem to be getting on,” she said.
“Good,” I said. “I think I`ll get up and join them.”
“I`ll leave you in peace,” Mom said, wresting her eyes finally from the window and turning to leave. As she started to cross the room, however, her eye was caught by something on the bedside table.
“What`s this?” she said.
I glanced at the table and saw, to my mortification, that among all the other junk which Sandra had tipped there before going to sleep, was her favourite, small vibrator. Mom had picked up the shiny, black object and was turning it in her hands. She was waiting for a reply.
“It`s a vibrator, Mom. One of Sandra`s. She must have left it there by accident.”
“How does it work?”
I couldn`t believe we were having this conversation. “You twist the bottom to make it vibrate. Then you…. then you sort of hold it against yourself. You know, down there.”
Mom had twisted the bottom and the little toy was vibrating gently in her hand.
“It vibrates faster if you twist it more,” I said.
“Like this?”
“That`s right.” The vibrator was small but very powerful. Sandra almost always carried it in her bag.
“And you hold it against your pussy?”
I was shocked. I had never heard Mom use such a word before. Then again, what other word would she use?
“Yes. You can put it inside… but Sandra just uses it on the outside. You know, on her…”
“On her clit?”
Again, I was shocked, but getting rapidly used to my new, dirty-talking mom.
“Like this?” Before I could stop her (and I`m not sure that I would have wanted to), Mom had untied her bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing a light blue bra and panties, though not matching: the bra low cut and lacy, the panties plainer, but still far from the sexless bloomers I might have imagined my mother to wear, if I had imagined anything at all.
Her breasts were large, quite surprisingly so, and had not fully escaped the twin onslaughts of time and gravity. They were, nevertheless, shapely, spilling over the cups of the bra, dark nipples just visible over the thin lace; the sort of breasts, in short, which call out to be weighed in the hand. Bringing my gaze lower, it was clear that the panties covered a large mound: the sort of mound which likewise asks to be cupped in the hand. I had an irrational desire for Mom to turn round, so that I could see how the panties covered her ass. Elsewhere, despite a general filling out, Mom`s body remained as firm, trim and tanned as any sixty-six-year-old body has a right to be. Underneath the bedclothes, my cock twitched in approval.
Mom already had her fingers hooked inside her panties, ready to pull them down.
“Mom!” I shouted. “You can do it through your panties. You don`t have to take them off.”
“You`re sure?”
“I`m sure.”
“You`d better watch me, though. Make sure I`m doing it right.”
She moved closer to the bed, her pussy level with my face. Starting up the vibrator, she held it for a moment in front of her panties, as if unsure how to proceed, then touched it lightly against her mound, approximately where I would have imagined her clitoris to be.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “I`ve never felt anything quite like this.”
She began to move the toy up and down her slit, pausing each time at the top, to let the vibrator perform its magic on her clit.
“Am I doing it right, Phil?”
“As if born to it.”
“Can I take my panties off?”
“If you`re sure…”
Before Kıbrıs Escort I had finished the sentence, Mom`s panties were round her ankles and the vibrator had resumed its travels up and down her slit.
“Oh, my God,” she repeated.
Mom`s beaver was as broad as I had anticipated, her bush grey and neatly trimmed. A streak of darker hair grew up the centre, like a continuation of her crack. It contrasted strongly with the grey hair on either side: more like a badger than a beaver, I thought.
“And I can put it inside?”
“If you want.”
“I do.” She parted her plump lips with the tip of the vibrator then altered the angle so that it was poised at the entrance to her vagina. The toy sank in effortlessly and she kept it expertly in place with a light pressure from her middle finger. Her legs almost buckled under the new wave of pleasure, and she fell back into a wicker chair beside the window.
“God, Phil, this feels so good,” she said. “Nothing`s been up there for a while.”
Like a pro, she slung one leg over the side of the chair and continued to probe her wet hole with the busy little instrument. As she did so, she gazed absent-mindedly through the window. Presently, however, her attention was caught by something happening below.
“I think you ought to see this, Phil,” she said.
“Don`t worry, Mom, I can.”
“Not that,” she said, with the hint of sharpness in her voice I remembered from childhood. “This. Through the window.”
I staggered out of bed, clutching a sheet to hide my burgeoning erection, and looked down onto the terrace. Dad, his back to us, was seated at a small table, drinking coffee. In front of him, leaning against the low wall separating the terrace from the garden, stood Sandra. She was wearing a long, summer dress and T-shirt, obviously the first things to come to hand when she had got up.
“What am I watching?” I asked.
“Are you blind?” Mom said.
Then I noticed. Maintaining eye contact with Dad all the time, Sandra was sliding her dress inch by inch up her long, thin legs. When the dress was bunched round the top of her thighs, she reached under it and slowly pulled down her white, cotton panties. As they slid to the ground, she hooked them up with one foot and tossed them unerringly onto Dad`s lap. The sense of unreality which had descended when Mom slipped off her bathrobe beside my bed now escalated to ludicrous proportions as I realised I was watching my dad sniff my wife`s knickers. Sandra meanwhile had lifted one long leg onto the wall and hitched her dress even higher, giving dad a grandstand view of her shaved pussy.
“Do you think we should let them know we`re here?” I asked.
“I`ve got a feeling they already know,” Mom said. “Besides, I`m curious to see whether Sandra will be able to coax an erection out of your father. It`s more than I can manage these days.” She was still sitting with her legs open, toying her pussy with Sandra`s vibrator, alternately sinking it into her wet hole and sliding it back and forth along her swollen lips. I had to admit I too was curious how things would develop.
Below, Sandra was now giving Dad an exhibition of her masturbatory skills. Using two fingers, she opened her pussy lips to show the tight opening of her vagina. She slipped one of these fingers deep into her hole and pushed it in and out a few times before sliding the same two fingers up her wet slit and positioning them either side of her erect clit. This, I knew, was Sandra`s favoured method of masturbation. It never took long and was very hot to watch.
“I think I`m going to cum,” Mom said, the tip of the vibrator held firmly against her own, exposed clit. And, sure enough, throwing her head back, she surrendered with a moan to wave after wave of pleasure as her orgasm surged through her.
“God, that was so good,” she said, when the final tremors had subsided. She turned off the vibrator.
“Sandra sometimes gives herself more than one when she uses that,” I said. I wasn`t sure which was turning me on more: the sight of my mother or my wife masturbating.
“She doesn`t look as though she needs it,” Mom said, gazing through the window to where Sandra was rubbing faster now, thrusting her hips forward against her fingers.
Mom turned the vibrator back on. “Did you say it goes faster?”
I nodded. “Just twist the base a bit more.” The toy leapt into renewed life and Mom held it tentatively against her glistening clit.
“Oh, my God,” she said for a third time. “I see what you mean.”
For a few minutes neither of us spoke, as Mom manipulated the little vibrator with growing expertise in and out of her wet pussy and I stroked end of my hard dick under the sheet, both of us gazing out of the window.
Sandra was now approaching climax, an expression on her face which could have been mistaken for pain. Although he had his back to us, I guessed from the movements of his upper body that Dad was also pleasuring himself as never before. Lefkoşa Escort When she must have been about to cum, Sandra quickly removed her leg from the wall, turned round and bent over it, lifting her dress high above her waist. Her hand still between her legs, she said something over her shoulder to my father. Needing no second bidding, he got out of his chair and, cock in hand, approached my wife.
“What`s she got that I don`t?” Mom said, seeing the size of Dad`s erection as he stood over Sandra`s naked ass. He started to pump his cock vigorously.
“Phil, I want you to cum on me too,” Mom said, quickly turning round to kneel on the chair, her broad bottom exposed.
Through the window, Dad unleashed a stream of white cum over Sandra`s buttocks and lower back. Even through the window I could hear his muffled groans and Sandra`s cry of triumph as they came together. Almost simultaneously, I released spurt after spurt of hot cum over Mom`s bare ass as she cried out in her own, intense orgasm.
“She hasn`t got anything you don`t have, Mom,” I said.
She reached round and briefly touched the end of my throbbing cock.
“Bless you, Phil,” she said.
For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, the four of us sat around indoors and out, drinking tea and coffee and eating the seemingly limitless supply of snacks Mom had prepared. Nobody mentioned what had happened earlier, and for a moment I wondered whether it had not after all been some sort of dream.
Mom and Dad really warmed to Sandra as she retailed, in suitably dramatic style, one or two anecdotes from the world of theatre. Watching and listening to her, I thought, not for the first time, how lucky our little theatre company was to have her as lead actress; and, more importantly, how lucky I was to have her as a wife. She expressed concern that, now that she had turned forty, the roles would dry up, an idea instantly pooh-poohed by all three of us. Sandra also showed great skill in drawing out my usually reticent parents to talk about their lives in general up to that point. Some of it I hadn`t even heard myself. Neither of them, however, showed any wish to talk about work: Dad was very happily retired and didn`t want to look back; Mom hated her job and was just looking forward to retiring herself.
By the middle of the afternoon, everyone was ready for a break. The two women headed for the garden and I helped Dad wash the dishes, before briefly retiring to the guest room to catch up on a few e-mails. When I came back downstairs half an hour later, Dad was alone on the terrace, trying out the new binoculars which Sandra had given him as a present. He appeared to be focused on a point at the far end of the garden.
“Great tits,” I heard him murmur.
“Hi, Dad,” I said. “How are the binoculars?”
Dad jumped visibly. “Best I`ve ever had,” he said, recovering quickly. “Such a generous gift of Sandra`s.”
“And you`ve spotted some great tits, did I hear you say?”
The pause was almost imperceptible. “Yes. In the hedge at the far end. I think there must be a nest in there.”
“May I?” I held out my hand for the binoculars.
Again, the slight hesitation. “Oh, sure. Here. You may have to refocus them to suit your own eyesight. I`ll pop upstairs and get an old pair and come down and join you.”
As Dad disappeared into the house, I raised the binoculars to me eyes without adjusting the focus. Larger than life, Mom and Sandra sprang into view, lying beside each other on the grass, in a sheltered corner formed by the hedge and a low wall. Mom must have fetched a couple of rush mats from the shed for them to lie, because the shed door hung open.
It was a sunny afternoon, and it must have been particularly hot in that corner of the garden, because both women had stripped down to their underwear, their clothes lying in neat piles beside them on the grass. In fact, zooming in, I observed that Sandra had also removed her bra, her small breasts and conical nipples rising like twin volcanoes into the air.
The women were lying with their feet towards us, and it was difficult to resist focusing on the area between their slightly parted legs. Sandra was wearing light green panties, the outline of her crack clearly visible as she shifted somewhat restlessly on the mat. Mom`s underwear was black and lacy, and sexier than I ever would have imagined her wearing. Focusing even closer, the silky material stretched tight over Mom`s prominent mound and there was a hint of her slit too as she made herself comfortable on the mat.
Dad returned to the terrace. He was carrying a second pair of binoculars.
“Spotted anything?” he said.
“Nothing yet,” I said. “I think I`ll stay focused for a bit though.”
“Good idea,” Dad said. “Remember, patience is everything in bird-watching.”
He took up a position beside me, elbows resting on the low wall of the terrace, and we raised our binoculars to our eyes.
The two women came into immediate focus. Sandra was now sitting up, saying something to Mom. Mom smiled and shook her head, but a moment later, after another word from Sandra, she too sat up and reached behind to unfasten her bra. As the bra fell away, Sandra leaned in and kissed Mom on the lips, cupping one of my mother`s heavy breasts in her hand as she did so.
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