Wifes Wild Saint Patricks Day
- 1 year ago
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S Is For St Patrick's Day free porn video
“Dinner was… unexpected.”
“You didn't like the stew.”
“I really liked the stew,” I told him honestly, as we stood in the open doorway of my apartment. We lowered our voices so we wouldn't disturb the neighbors. “I’m glad you brought it. I’m still surprised we ran into each other today.”
He shook his dark, floppy hair out of his eyes. “I do run the store, so I'm in there all the time.”
“But I'm not. I only go there once or twice a year.”
“For your peach cobbler. You mentioned earlier.” He placed his strong, brown hand near my smaller brown hand on the door jamb. “We'll have to change that.”
“We will?” I asked, intrigued.
“Oh yes, we will.”
I crossed my arms. “My neighborhood supermarket is right down the street, and yours is clear across town.”
He leaned closer. “Your market isn't fulfilling your needs. Your delicious cobbler needs.”
“It keeps me satisfied.”
“Is satisfaction all that you are searching for?”
I looked up into his dark eyes. “Sometimes I like surprises.”
He leaned in further. “I could deliver both.” Losing his footing, he stumbled over the hinges. “My store could. We transport groceries anywhere within city limits.”
I took hold of his arms to help him straighten up. I could feel his toned biceps through his long sleeved polo shirt. “Do I fit within your limits?”
He held onto my shoulders for balance. “You can fit in anywhere you like.”
We didn't let go.
“You're pretty confident for someone your age,” I said in what I hoped was a breezy tone.
He raised an amused eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”
“I know how old you are, Jacob Lighterstone.”
“You do, Honey Amberson?”
I thought for a moment. “You know Stella, right?”
“Your best friend Stella?”
“She is a year younger than I am. And Gaby is her youngest sister, so she's nine years younger than Stella.”
Jacob nodded. “And Gaby and I were in the same class since preschool, so we're the same age.”
“26.”
“A full-grown adult.”
I looked him over.
He certainly was.
I moved my hands off his body, tightened my curly bun, and shoved my thumbs into the pockets of my cropped sweatpants. “It's been so long. The last time we were in the same room, Stella was trying to stop you and Gaby from eating paste.”
Jacob laughed. “We've seen each other since then.”
“When?” I challenged.
“At Stella's wedding.”
“You were there? I didn't see you.”
“I saw you.”
“Everyone saw me. I was the maid of honor.”
“You were beautiful.” His eyes found mine. “Still are.”
My cheeks were burning. “You're very good.”
He stepped back. “Good at what?”
I shook my head. “I should say, ‘Thank you.’”
“You're welcome. For the stew. When do you think we will see each other again?”
“Based on our track record, the best case scenario would be next St. Patrick's Day when I pick up my holiday dessert from your grocery store. So, 365 days, minus a few hours.”
“That's too long. We need to keep you fed.” He cringed at his words. “I want to feed you.”
What?
“I want you to eat food and I eat food, together,” Jacob attempted to explain. “Dinner. Again. You're making me nervous.”
“How? I'm just standing here.”
“I'm scared that I'm making a fool of myself in front of the coolest girl in town.”
Puzzled at that statement, as I was wearing a grungy shamrock t-shirt, I told the tall, handsome man standing in front of me, “I have never been cool.”
“You are and have always been amazing. And I just remembered I am working every night this week.”
Convenient. So much for dinner. “See you in a year.”
He waved his hands in front of his face. “New idea. Breakfast. Tomorrow. It's a Sunday.”
“Fortunately for you, I don't have a rule about not accepting a date less than three days in advance.”
“Is that a real thing?”
“It was, ages ago. I like breakfast.”
“I'll pick you up at 8:00?”
“Bright and early. Thanks again for the stew.” Our bodies were close enough for our fingers to touch.
“Thanks for inviting me over.” He brushed his lips against my cheek for an effervescent kiss.
As his scruffy beard and mustache grazed my skin, a series of electric shocks traveled from my face all the way down to my toes.
At my expression, Jacob worried, “Was that too much? I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”
I brought my palms up to his cheeks.
He bent his head down to meet mine.
I whispered, “It was surprisingly satisfactory.” I released him.
Enamored, he said, “Good night, Honey.”
“Good night.”
I shut the door and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water to quench my thirst. Inside the refrigerator next to the water pitcher, I noticed the plastic containers that Jacob had neatly packed with our leftovers.
As I guzzled my ice cold beverage, I looked at the full dish rack next to the sink. It was stacked with the plates and bowls and spoons and forks that Jacob had insisted upon washing, not letting me lift a finger to clean up the mess.
The bar was so low, but he hopped over it.
The water would not suffice.
I refilled my glass and headed for my room.
Off came the pants.
I grabbed my laptop, climbed into bed, and started searching the web for inspiration, some adult viewing that resembled the positions I wanted to engage in with Jacob.
Naked.
Unfortunately, after browsing a bunch of sites for close to an hour, there weren't many videos featuring an Indian guy and a Black woman getting down to business.
At least not in a way that I felt comfortable rubbing my pussy to.
But I did find some Black women handling their own business, which also got me wet.
I found one of my new favorite videos and let it play in the background while I located my trusty vibrator. Batteries inserted, I peeled off my damp panties. My pussy was already creaming on my sheets as I remembered how Jacob's lips felt against my cheek.
On the screen, the busty woman, a popular cam girl named Tiffany, had already removed all her clothes, so I wanted to catch up. I tossed my t-shirt to the floor. Then I unhooked my bra. My large, dark nipples crinkled in the cool air.
Time to play.
Tiffany was rubbing her own coffee-colored nipples, so I started rubbing mine. They were sensitive. It felt so good, making my hot slit even wetter. My pink clit pulsed, begging for more.
She moaned and dipped her right hand between her thick brown thighs, thumbing her clit while she kept her other hand on her titty.
I switched on my vibrator and slid it across my pussy lips. I couldn't help but moan along with Tiffany.
My mind wandered to Jacob, imagining what he would think if he saw me pleasuring my dark, curvy body, my fingers rolling my stiff nipples, my vibrator buzzing against my throbbing clit.
I saw the timecode on the video, and I knew Tiffany was about to cum hard.
Sitting up on my bed rocked my hips back and forth. I felt the waves stirring in my groin, thinking of Jacob sitting in my desk chair, loosening his pants, and letting that cock free. Earlier that night, I had caught a glimpse of the outline in his chinos. It was nothing to sneeze at. I wondered if he knew how to use it.
As I pumped harder on the bed, big ole titties bouncing, thighs shaking, my orgasm was building, approaching a crescendo as Tiffany wailed on the screen. She squirted onto her camera, but she didn't stop fingering that soaked quim, prepping for another good cum.
I was getting closer to squirting all over the bed myself (I could change the sheets later), when I hear a strange sound come from somewhere in my closed bedroom.
It was a jingling combined with a buzzing.
I shut off my vibrator, paused the video, and looked around, scared that I wouldn't like what I found.
It was nearby, too close for comfort.
What was that noise?!
Then I saw my phone blinking under a pile of receipts on my desk.
Whoever it was could wait.
But the caller was Jacob Lighterstone.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I got home and I realized I left my store ID at your place.”
“You did?” I was breathing hard, on the edge of glory.
“Yeah. I don't need till tomorrow, but… Are you okay?”
“Fine, I'm fine.” I tried to calm myself and stop huffing and puffing into the phone.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“It's a great time,” I told Jacob.
“Were you exercising?”
“Not exactly.”
“I have a question, and it may seem rude, but are you…”
“Am I…” Could he tell?
“Pooping?”
Maybe not. “I'm in bed.”
“Oh, I thought possibly the food… Did I wake you?”
“I wasn't sleeping.” Should I tell him? Not the whole truth, but a morsel?
“I'm glad you're up. I had fun tonight.”
“So did I.” I had another sneaky idea. Was I bold enough to pull it off?
“I probably shouldn't say this, but this day totally made my week.”
I put the laptop on mute and pressed play on Tiffany's video. “Good food can have that effect.” I hit the speaker button on the phone to free my hands.
My finger went back to caressing my full breasts, my areolas swollen, nips puffy.
“So can you, Honey.”
On the bed, I pointed my vibrator at my creamy slit and slapped a pillow on top of my thighs to muffle the noise.
“Me? What did I do?”
“Stimulating conversation. A diversion from my job, which I love, but you know what they say about all work and no play.”
Tiffany was hitting her G-spot again in silence, while I was flicking my perky brown nipples. “What do they say?” I panted.
“Are you sure you're okay?”
The vibrator was tickling my inner lips. “I'm sure.”
“Did you leave your blender on? I thought I heard a something like a kitchen appliance.”
Think, Honey, think. “My laundry? In the, uh, washing machine? It gets loud.” And I was getting close. “Tell me more about how you like to play outside of work. Don't leave out any details.”
“Okay, well, I used to like console gaming, but I outgrew that a few years ago.”
As Jacob continued his monologue on his extracurricular affairs, I hit mute on my phone and got to rubbing. I kicked off the muffler pillow, spread my legs wide, lied back on my mattress, and worked my pussy good.
It wasn't going to take long.
“Then I joined a kickball league, and that went well for a while.”
I unmuted the phone to say, “Kickball? Wow. How was that?” and then remuted it as I got ready to cum.
I groaned, feeling it pulse grow around my clit.
And then it hit me.
“Sooo goood,” I murbled. My body shook. My pussy squirted. I accidentally knocked the phone to the floor as my orgasm peaked. I let a soft squeal as my convulsions eventually slowed into a rich afterglow. “Oh wow. That was awesome.”
“Yeah, it was awesome,” Jacob's voice replied.
The phone wasn't muted anymore.
Uh oh.
“The kickball games were pretty awesome, too,” he jested.
“They were?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“I doubt they were as epic as your nightly activities, but maybe one day I will be able to compare them.”
“My activities?” He couldn't have heard everything.
“Your… laundry. Sounds like a wild time.”
“Laundry…” I ran my palm against my wet sheets. “It can get crazy. I could let you do a load. Eventually. One day.”
“No rush. We’ll get there. By the way, I love fluffing, folding, removing stains. I know how to rub them the right way. You won't be disappointed.”
Good to know. “I should go clean up my bed. I mean, clean up for bed. I'm getting up early for breakfast tomorrow, and I don't want to be late.”
“How considerate. Your date is a lucky guy. I hope he knows what a catch you are.”
“I hope he does, Jacob!”
“See you mañana, Honey.”
“Hasta luego.”
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