Switching Teams Lesbian free porn video

My slow journey exploring my sexuality and discovering what?

"Yes, yes, oh my god yes, yes," I groaned as my husband, once more rather unsuccessfully fucked me.

"Is it good Teen?" he asked slamming himself harder and faster into me.

"Yes, darling, yes of course it is" I sighed, gritting my teeth and making a big effort to writhe my body beneath him as his hand gripped the cheeks of my ass.

It had been like this for a year or so now. A year or so in which I had fake the orgasms he believed he was giving me. Although now in our forties, we still had an active sex life. In fact for me, nowadays, the two to three times a week we did it was far too active.

At first, which was just over a year ago, I had wondered what was happening to me. I could not work out whether I was going frigid or whether it was a physical or emotional issue. All I knew was that as bedtime approached my mood dropped into almost a depression. I felt slightly scared and I did not like what I was feeling. I did not like making excuses, going to bed early and doing all I could to avoid Ben wanting to have sex.

As these sensations and 'anti sex' tactics continued, so our marriage also started to deteriorate. We bickered more and these turned into frequent arguments, some being blazing rows. We found faults in each other in areas where we had not before and we criticized each other about things that previously had not seemed to bother us. We started going out more frequently with friends, or to the gym or other events without the other. I found myself starting arguments mid-evening or near to bedtime, anything to avoid sex.

"Are you sure?" Ben asked one of his fingers sliding into the crease of my bum and pressing hard against my anus.

"Yes darling. Yes I am sure" I lied as I felt anything but orgasmic delights.

*

"Well madam does have such an alluring figure," the rather prissy, but nevertheless attractive short, slim, dark haired owner of the boutique in Highgate said as I was trying on a number of outfits, a couple of years ago.

"Alluring?" I said raising my eyebrows.

Bent down beside me from where she was fiddling with a skirt that I was trying on Monique smiled and said. "Well full, but that's alluring."

"Is large breasted what you are searching for Monique?" I replied, quite enjoying the feelings of her fingers on my bare leg.

"Well yes I think it is" she replied in her strong French accent, her fingers sliding lightly up my bare leg, probably a little further than necessary.

"So is that why you rarely have anything to fit me?" I asked feeling little shudders go through me from the feel of her fingertips on my leg..

"Maybe, for we do tend to cater for the er, um, more petite woman."

"Petite and I do not mix" I joked as I felt that shudder of something go through me when I saw her eyes were riveted on my thirty eight inch double D breasts. She left her fingertips resting somesix or eight inches above my knee on the outside of my leg.

"No I can see and I am so envious," she said in almost a whisper.

That sent another shudder through me that, I realised was suspiciously like a surge of sexual desire.

"And I thoroughly enjoyed playing with you," the Swedish woman said as we pecked each other on the cheek at the end of the round of golf.

I was at a company convention in Malaga in Spain. Although not employed by the global ad agency, I did lots of freelance copywriting for them and usually got invited to such junkets; after all spare 'eye candy' is always useful, especially if they have big tits.

As usual, it was a mixture of debates, seminars and lectures with social and sporting events. Ideal for what the bosses called team bonding and what the staff felt was a waste of time and would rather have the money than the junket.

Helda was the Managing Director of the Scandinavian group and was a known and admitted lesbian. I had been drawn to play golf with her and had enjoyed my round.

As she said that double entendre, she held my gaze just a tad longer than is necessary and left her hand resting on my hip. I panicked. I went hot and I felt my pulse race a little.

"Yes I enjoyed it too," I muttered lowering my gaze and then lifting it again to meet hers.

"We will have to do it again" she smiled at me adding in a lower tone. "Soon, very soon."

It was my third night away from home. Although the frequency of sex between Ben and I had decreased, I still missed gaining the occasional orgasm, although that now and then came in the bathroom after he had fucked me rather than as he did it. That night after the golf I masturbated, something I was doing more frequently since my sexual relationship with my husband had started to deteriorate. As one hand squeezed and caressed my right boob and pinched and pulled my nipple and the other rubbed my clit and along my lips, I brought myself near to an orgasm. With my emotions running riot I suddenly gave myself such a shock. Just as the pleasure from my hands was becoming wonderfully intense, Helda came into my mind. She was naked and lying beside me. She had one arm round my shoulders and the other was reaching down my body. We were kissing deeply as her fingers slid into my wet, open and receptive cunt. With that image in my mind, I climaxed.

"Like to dance?" the personal trainer who had given me the induction course at the gym asked?

This was about three months ago. I was at the monthly disco that the gym held for its staff and members. I have no idea why I was there other than it got me out of the house and home late enough for Ben to have been in bed.

"Ok" I said to the quite pretty, but rather athletic looking PT.

When I had seen her earlier just after the music started, I had thought that she scrubbed up well. She was wearing a nice, pale blue, low cut, silk dress with thin spaghetti straps and high heels. The dress was tight and the hem was a good six inches above her knees. She was in her early thirties I guessed and from chatting to her as she drilled me in the gym, I knew that she was single. It would be an exaggeration to say that we had got to know each other well, but we did chat now and then and we smiled at each other when we passed in the gym or pool.

In the gym, the female personal trainers usually wore tight, dark blue, lycra pedal pushers that ended just beneath the knee with a range of different tops, in white or yellow. As Emma moved round the gym, it was quite evident that her long slim legs and gorgeously pert bottom were her crowning assets. At the disco, it was also quite evident that the rest of her features, including her small, but beautifully formed boobs, were also pretty good. She had her browny, auburn hair that she was wearing down so that it tumbled onto her nearly bare, tanned shoulders unlike at the gym where she usually had a pony tail and she was wearing full make-up. I had not seen her like that before I realised it accentuated her big eyes and full lips and really did make her look very attractive.

I had chosen a simple white, cotton, button up the front top and blue denim jeans. The top was loose so that I was not emphasising my tits and I too wore my hair down. Although a good ten years older than Emma, my hair was longer, some might say too long for my age, as it now rather frighteningly had a number of grey streaks, and it was wavier. Looking in the mirror just before I left home, I had thought the black hair tumbling onto the white cotton was a nice contrast, although I had some doubts about the rather heavy, dark frames of my glasses; I mad a mental not to get a 'softer' pair. I was wearing black, mid-height heeled, strappy sandals that showed off my scarlet painted toe nails, rather prettily I thought.

During the first dance to Abba's Dancing Queen, we chatted about the gym and my programme. As the music got louder on the next number so we chatted less and concentrated on our dancing. Emma was a wonderful mover and her generally, somewhat athletic gait witnessed in the gym was replaced with a sensual and extremely provocative, style of dancing; her body was amazingly supple. I could not hope and did not try to compete.

"Some dancer" I said as we walked to the bar and ordered white wines.

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself," she smiled back.

We joined a group of six or seven women, a couple of whom I recognised as members and three as PTs. Although probably the oldest there, I did not feel uncomfortable and joined in with the gossip and lively banter. It was fun and I was enjoying myself being with 'the girls.'

One of the girls asked what I would like to drink and I said white wine. Another suggested that we all put a tenner in a kitty to pay for it, but another said.

"Leaving the tee totallers, Emma and Annie out of it."

"No, no, I am happy to pay" Emma said.

"Don't be fucking stupid you are not paying a tenner for two glasses of water, you silly bitch" the aggressive, but nice scouser grunted.

It took me back years when we all danced as a group interchanging partners and trying to outdo each other with sexy dance movements. We took it in turns to go into the center of the circle of girls and to do our thing as the others looked on; Emma won by a mile.

The evening wore on and I danced with a couple of men who were members and a two or three male trainers, but after each dance I returned to the group of girls in the corner of the bar. It was getting late and I had drunk too much. Not to the point that I was drunk, but I was certainly over the limit and decided to get a cab home. I was coming to the gym tomorrow and either, Ben could drop me off or, I would get another cab.

I was on the dance floor with a few of the group when a slow number came on. I went to leave, but Emma grabbed me.

"No stay Tina" she said grabbing my hand.

Until then, we had not touched each other's flesh. Her hand holding mine sent a surge of feelings through me, I almost shuddered.

"Come on," she said pulling me into her arms.

I should have resisted I suppose, but glancing round the crowded floor, seeing several other girly couples, and knowing that it was quite common in the clubs for girls to dance together, I did not. Instead, I held Emma's hands and moved slowly on the spot to an old Barry White number, which was cool and sexy.

At first, we were at arms-length and apart from our hands no other parts of our bodies were touching. Being quite mellow from too much wine and getting well into the music I had not really noticed how things had changed as we danced. Instead of just loosely holding hands, my right and her left, our fingertips were now entwined and I felt one of Emma's fingers stroking my palm. I was closer to her, much closer and now as we moved, our tummies, legs and breasts would occasionally touch. I had d****d my left hand round her narrow waist and she had rested her left hand on the side of my hip, just where I have a slight excess, my love handles as Ben calls them. Innocuous in many ways, but whereas my hand was horizontal to the floor, Emma's was almost vertical. That meant that mine was touching only her waist, but that hers was touching my hip and the start of my bottom.

None of these things really hit me very hard or, at the time, seemed out of the ordinary. They clearly were, but did not seem to be, for they felt natural. So much so that when I felt a pressure from her hand on my hip I went with the request and let myself go even closer to her. So close that her small breasts were engulfed by mine. I opened my eyes, looked down, and saw that where they were squashed against me her low top and slipped a little and most of both of her boobs were uncovered. It was clear that she had not bothered with a bra for where the cotton of my blouse was pressing on the silk of her dress the neckline had slipped so that on one breast I could see a touch of her pink areola. For some reason that excited me.

I looked up and into her brown eyes. Neither of us spoke, but Emma smiled. I smiled back. The finger resting on my palm started to press more firmly and began rubbing me in small circles. That felt highly intimate, but also very nice. As she looked deeply into my eyes, I felt her other hand move a little. It moved across and down me so that her fingers were now pressing right onto and into the flesh of my bottom. I was relieved that the floor was crowded and the room was dimly lit. I was even more relieved when she let go of my hand and slid hers slowly upwards. The palm of it was on the side of my body with the fingers on my back. She stopped when it was just a little more than mid-way between my waist and the bottom of my breast. As the number was ending, she eased it further upwards, but even more slowly. Then, as the last notes of the song started, she moved it further until her palm rested fully on the side of breast. Looking into my eyes, she pressed and sent such a surge of sexual desire through me that a little moan slipped through my lips.

We held each other's gaze as the last dance, the typical and rather naff Frank Sinatra, New York, New York was announced. Our arms round each other we did the obligatory can-can sort of stuff until the music stopped and then turning we put our arms round each other and hugged and then kissed each other on the cheek.

Back in the bar for a last drink, I was on the phone ordering a cab, when Emma said. "Let me give you a lift Tina."

"No, no it's fine, it's only a few miles."

Emma moved closer and smiling and adopting a mock fierce tone that others would hear she said. "Darling, I insist."

At the time, Ben and I lived near to Alexandra Palace. It was a slightly run down area, but nevertheless it was trendy with loads of bars and restaurants and, of course, the relative 'countryside' of the park around Ally Pally. We were both doing well financially and we had vague plans to move more upmarket, either to Islington or, even more so, to Highgate. However, the state of our marriage was hardly conducive to planning a move so it sat very much on the back burner.

We were soon the road where I lived. As usual, parking was a nightmare and Emma had driven well past my house looking for a space.

"Do a left and left and left Emma and then just drop me in the middle of the road."

She did the first two left turns and as we came up to the third, there was a large space under one of the London plain trees. She pulled into it.

"I can walk from here," I said feeling slightly scared as she turned off the motor on the blue Ford Focus.

"I know you can lovey, but I don't want you to," she said turning her body and looking at me.

I stayed pressed back into my seat, wondering what she was up to and what was going to happen. A little part of me wished she would just say good night and let me get out. A larger part wanted to chat, but that still left another big part not sure what it wanted.

"Have you enjoyed this evening Tina?" she asked running her hand through to brush it away from her face. As she did, the top of her dress moved and again I saw a goodly part of both of her breasts. Although the only light was coming from a street lamp some thirty or so meters away, I could see that the dress had ridden well up her bare legs.

"Yes Emma, yes I have."

"Good" she said in barely a whisper. "So have I, it's been wonderful spending it with you."

I was struggling now. Was she pulling me? Was this a come on? How would I know? Would I resist?

"And you" I gulped as she reached out and took my hand.

Looking deeply into my eye, leaning forward a little more she placed her fingertips on the back of my hand. "I mean really, really wonderful Tina, get me?" She asked again holding my gaze.

"Yes, I think so Emma."

"But you aren't sure are you?" She said her fingers rubbing the back of my hand.

"No" I breathed.

"I meant Tina that it was spending it with you that made it wonderful."

"Oh I see," I stammered as she turned my hand over and ran her fingertips and brown painted to match her hair, fingernails across the palm.

"Do you see Tina, do you really see?"

"I er, um Emma, oh I don't know," I replied genuinely confused.

"Was it wonderful for you, lovey because of me?"

"Yes" I whispered as she slid her other arm along the back of my seat in front of the headrest.

"Because of what we did Tina, did that make it wonderful? It did for me."

I could not think of anything to say, so we sat in silence for a few moments. We were staring at her fingers that were now stroking all over my hand and fingers and were moving onto the front of my wrist, just where those veins vanish into your hand, which is a very sensitive place.

"Was it because of that Tina?"

"Oh Emma," I groaned. "I don't know, I really just don't know," I went on feeling near to tears as I bowed my head and stopped looking at her.

I felt her hand on my hair. She gently ruffled it and whispered.

"You have such gorgeous hair Tina."

"Thank you" I mumbled.

"Have you done anything like that before Tina?"

"No, never."

"Never?"

"Well not since I was very young, we all do things like that then," I stammered.

"Yes that is true, but not since you have been a woman?"

"No, I am married."

"I know, but that does not matter."

"Oh it does, Emma, it matters so much."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just don't know" I went on now completely and utterly confused.

I realised that Emma's hand had slid up my arm and was caressing it by my elbow whilst her other one was stroking my head, rubbing my neck and running the fingers through my black, curly, rather dishevelled hair. These were overtly intimate gestures. There could be no doubting that or the fact that now, she was clearly trying to seduce me. Those thoughts were flying round my mind as I struggled desperately to work out what I wanted to do.

"Darling," she whispered. "It has nothing to do with being married or not, it is all to do with how and what you feel."

"What do you mean?"

As she said that I realized that the fingers that were stroking my arm were just millimetres away from the side of my breast and the memory of the feelings I had gained when she had touched that as we danced filled my mind and seeped into my body.

"I mean Tina, you had feelings when I held you and when I touched you didn't you?"

"Yes I did."

"And when I caressed you, you had them didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And when I touched your boob you got them, didn't you?"

"Yes, Emma yes I did."

"And lovey you have got them right now haven't you?"

"Yes" I muttered.

"And if I do this Tina, you get them even more don't you?" She asked holding my head and turning it towards her.

She had pulled one knee up beneath her bottom so that raised her higher and enabled her to lean over the central console to reach me so that our faces were almost touching. Her eyes were boring into mine, her mouth was slightly open and I watched as she licked her tongue along her upper lip. I knew that she wanted to kiss me. I knew that she was in a way asking my permission to do that and I knew that the ball was very much in my court. But what I did not know was what I wanted her to do, so I did nothing.

She saw and must have understood my dilemma. She may have been in a similar position herself at some time; that moment when you have to confront your sexuality and challenge and maybe break the status quo.

I felt her hand holding the back of my neck more firmly and saw her face move closer to mine.

"And Tina," she said in a near whisper. "You would get them very much if I kissed you wouldn't you?"

"Oh my god" I gasped as without further ado her face closed the gap between us and she brushed her lips gently along mine. She hovered them there for a moment or two, neither kissing me, nor removing them. Again, I took this to be a sign of her consideration and a way of seeking my approval before she proceeded.


Tacitly giving that by not moving, my whole being revelled in the sensation as her lips closed around mine and she kissed me. It was utterly sublime.

I was so surprised. Being kissed and kissing a woman was so similar to with a man, yet it was so different. I guess the physical aspects of it provided the similarities, thankfully without the bristles and the emotional ones the differences.

"Ok darling?" Emma whispered her mouth moving slightly away from mine.

"Yes Emma" I whispered back, my left arm involuntarily lifting up and my hand going round the back of her neck.

Was that the final sign of my acquiescence to her advances I wondered as she kissed me again?

This time it was a deeper and fuller kiss, if that is not a meaningless description, but it is how it felt. The overriding sensations I got, though, were of gentelness, consideration, caring and sensitivity. With a man, a kiss often portrays energy and strength, force and drive. It is the preamble to the man penetrating the woman, entering her and fucking her. A woman's kiss to another woman does not act as forerunner to penetrative sex, but as foreplay to a deeper, caring and loving form of intercourse.

Our mouths seemed to dance together as our tongues and lips sucked and licked and kissed. I realized, of course, that I had started kissing her back. I also realized that I was enjoying what she was doing or, more accurately, what we were doing. Even more significantly, I realized that I did not want to stop and, in fact, I wanted more.

I lifted my other arm so that both were round her neck. Her left arm was round my shoulders, our mouths were clamped together and my eyes were shut. It was then that she cupped my breast. My entire body jerked.

"Oh Tina this is so marvellous," she whispered kneading and squeezing the ample excess of my left breast as her fingers strayed inside my blouse touching my nipple sent a shock wave as I could feel my my pussy.
Her other hand reached between my legs and I spend them.

We continued to kiss as her hand slid against my panties as she rub, I could feel my pussy pulse and get wet as she then slid a finger under and touched my clit. OMG I was starting to feel a real orgasm build. Kissing her and nipple play was too much as I came on her finger.

It was her speaking and the extreme sensation she gave me that made me open my eyes and realize just where we were. In her car parked just round the corner from where I lived.

I came to my senses and pushed her back.

"This is madness Emma."

"What is?"

"This?"

"How do you mean?"

"Here."

"What, what we are doing or doing it here?"

"Both" I said sharply straightening my blouse.

"You don't mean that do you Tina?"

"Yes, I do."

She got hold of my chin and turning my face looked right into my eyes. "Now tell me you didn't enjoy it that orgasm."

"Ok Emma, yes I did, but it is ridiculous doing it here."

"Come to my flat then, it's not far."

Smiling I said. "Emma I can't do that. I am a married woman with a husband at home waiting for me."

"Then tomorrow, come to my flat tomorrow it only gets better."

"I can't promise, I have to think things through."

*

That night was awful. Thankfully, Ben was in bed when I got home, slightly pissed and still sexually excited. I hardly slept so worried was I at what was happening to me. I had, of course, put the two and two together of my distaste for sex with Ben and the times I had been aroused by women and had reached the four not five that I was, at best bi-curious. Tonight had gone some way to satisfying that curiosity, but what it had not done was assuage my fear that I might be becoming a lesbian. In fact, so strongly attracted to Emma had I been that, if anything, it had increased my fear and trepidation about being a lesbian.

Over the next few days, I thought about it endlessly. I spent hours googling lesbian, bi curious, bisexuality and loads of associated questions that were roaring through my brain. They had been there for some time, but had lain dormant I suppose as I came to terms with the changes that were occurring in me. I am not sure that the web research really did much at all other than confirm what I already knew and that is one does not catch lesbianism or being gay!

So what was it that was turning me off sex with men and making it with a woman seem more attractive? I had no answer to that.

Over the next few days Emma and I were in constant contact, mainly by text. She was imploring me to meet her, I was resisting, manfully! She could not understand why I would not get together with her, which was not surprising really, as I could not either other than, of course, that I was a married woman who did not cheat on her husband and I was straight, or so I thought!

Although I work in the creative areas of advertising, I have a logical and pragmatic mind and approach. I can usually see things as they are and not as I would like them to be and generally, when I have a problem, I am able to develop a plan to solve it. That is how I work in business when confronted with a difficult copywriting issues and is how I try to act when confronted by emotional problems.

This trauma, however, was more extreme and complicated than any I had experienced. One part of me wanted to be with Emma. I wanted to be kissed, cuddled, caressed and comforted by her. When I was by myself and the need to masturbate occurred I realized that also, I wanted her to undress me and take me further. How far, I was not sure, but I certainly wanted to dip my toe in the sea of sappic love.

The other part, the traditional, grown up, married woman part felt differently. That wanted me to forget Emma, to put what we had done to one side and forget all about this lesbian or bi bullshit. It wanted me to get back in my box of heterosexual life and once more be the faithful, lie on my back and think of England wife as hubby fucked me when he chose. To be truthful that had its attractions; it was much less of a hassle.

In some ways I wished that I was promiscuous. If I were, I could then go on a bender with men and try to establish whether: it was men in general I was going off, whether I had simply tired of Ben or whether my calling was coming out of the theoretical closet and my desire for women was turning me off men.

I rationalised that finding out about 'men in general' was not possible. The guilt trip I was on about 'having headaches' with Ben and that evening with Emma, were bad enough. To overlay that with getting laid on the side by someone I hardly knew was unthinkable.

Nevertheless, I developed a plan.

"I am sorry I have been a bit of a bitch lately," I said to Ben when he phoned the next evening to tell me he was leaving his office. That let me know what time he would be home and enabled me to plan dinner. Tonight, though, I had something other than dinner planned.

"That's ok," he had said.

"I will make up Ben I promise," I said as we broke the connection.

Forty minutes later, I heard his key in the lock of the front door.

"Jesus Christ Tina, that's fantastic" he said.

"I think you deserve it Ben. Do you like it?"

"Like it, it's fucking amazing," he said walking over to me.

"Well don't expect it every night, just special occasions," I said removing my glasses. I placed them carefully beside the TV where I always put them so I do not lose them; if only I could get on with contacts!

He took me in his arms, kissed me and whispered. "Thanks darling," as he ran his hands down my back, over the nearly bare, slightly larger than I like, cheeks of my bum, past that sexy patch between them and the black, seamed holdups and down along the sensual nylon material. "Mmmmmm that feel lovely Tina."

"Mmmm, yes it does Ben and so does this," I whispered pressing my mound against his erection.

"Let's go upstairs."

"No stay here," I replied wanting the added bonus of the unusual setting, the lounge to have sex with my husband.

Still kissing and using our tongues in the other's mouth, I undid his shirt as he squeezed my tits. I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and struggled that and his jackets off in one go. He, in turn, eased one of my breasts out from the cup of the bra that was a double D, but was still a tight fit on my boobs that I swear were still growing! Bending, he took my nipple into his mouth as I fiddled his belt and trousers undone. Between us, we got them, his boxers and shoes and socks off. He looked good naked and being like that as I was still, relatively, fully dressed gave me the buzz that I realized I needed, to go through with my plan.

"Hey this is hardly fair," he growled putting on a mock stern voice. "I'm undressed and look at you."

"Most men would think it eminently fair to have their wife seduce them dressed in all black underwear," I smiled, sitting him on the sofa and standing in front of him.

"True Teen and you do look fucking fabulous," he groaned running his eyes over the undersized bra, the way that one breast seemed to be trying to burst out from it whilst the other clearly already had. He looked at the black, lace, bikini panties that were nearly, but not quite a thong, the high, black lacy top holdups and the black, patent leather stilettos. I felt good and knew that I looked good too. Reaching up with both hands, I pulled the comb and clip out of my hair, shook my head and let the black locks tumble onto my shoulders and down my back with a few strands falling onto my chest.

"Lean back" I said as I got on to the sofa and knelt beside him.

I pushed him into the corner of the sofa; he was completely erect. Still kneeling, I reached behind me, unclipped my Perla bra and slowly, almost like a stripper removed it.

"Oh God Teen" he groaned as I dropped the bra on the floor and cupped both of my tits in my hands. Staring at him, I rolled the two globes together, squeezed and then lifted them up. I had not done this for such a long time. That and the fact that we were in the lounge, I guess were the reasons I pulled the right one up so that the nipple was close to my mouth. "Oh yes, yes" he groaned his hand, seemingly involuntarily, going to his cock and stroking it softly. Looking into my husband's eyes, I took the swollen, coral pink nipple into my mouth and sucked it, greedily.

I often did this to myself when I masturbated. However, during the past few days as I jacked myself off with my nipple in my mouth and the other hand between my legs it had not been Ben whose mouth I imagined was sucking it, but Emma's. Now, as I sucked it for my husband, frighteningly she came into my mind and I visualised her lying on the couch looking at me. That shook me. It was not part of the plan, it was not what I had envisaged would happen this evening. She was not supposed to intrude, be there or play any part in my plan, but unknoingly she was.

I ploughed on, though, and ran my spare hand down my body and into my panties. I rubbed myself enjoying Ben's eyes staring at me and popping out like organ stops. He started to wank himself, something he knows I like to watch, just as he enjoys seeing me do myself. Mutual masturbation, however, was not the plan.

Moving closer, partly so he could get to me, but mainly so I could reach him I pushed his hand away from his erection. I took that in my hand and he grabbed my tits. After all the years we had been together, he knew just what I wanted and he was quickly, pinching my nipples hard and pulling them so they stood out to over two centimetres from my areola. It was lovely.

I moved even closer to him so that the outside of my leg pressed against his hip. I leaned forward and licked the tip of his cock, then its length and then further down and all over his balls. I sucked one of them, then another then both into my mouth as I scratched him just behind them and in front of his anal opening; I knew he loved that, but I had not touched him there for ages.

Holding his cock away from his, at his age still, reasonably flat tummy I took the bulbous end of it into my mouth. I sucked on that for a moment or two then thrust my mouth downwards so that it was buried in my mouth. I closed my lips around it and eased my face up and down on it. He grunted and I felt his hand fumbling between my legs. I opened them and he pushed his fingers through them and right along my pussy lips.

"Oh Jesus Teen" he groaned, one hand grappling with my tits the other between my legs with his fingers struggling to get inside me. I opened my legs more and two or three slid in. That made me grunt and I pushed downwards just at the same time that he found my rhythm and began thrusting his hips toward me as he started to fuck my face at the same time as he finger fucked my cunt. "I'm near Teen, I am so near," he grunted starting to pull away as I had insisted on the rare occasions that I had given him a blowjob. This time I held him there, for that was the plan.

What was also in the plan was that I would cum. That was my idea. I would 'seduce' my husband, do the most unlesbian thing I could think of, give him a blow job and have him make me cum. By doing that, I hoped, wondered, thought or feared that I would drive the demons of being attracted to women from my mind. To an extent it worked. I certainly had a strong orgasm and felt a revulsion as his cock seemed to explode and his semen poured into my throat as we climaxed together. On another level, however, it did not work for as I shuddered with my orgasmic delights and as I swallowed his cum, I had Emma's face and body in my mind.

*

"Hi Emma."

"Hello Tina, how are you" Emma asked me on our mobiles the next day.

"Fine thanks and you?"

"Wonderful."

I paused for a moment or two.

"You still there?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Why the silence then?"

"I have a question?"

"Go on then?"

"What are you doing this afternoon?