Chris
- 4 years ago
- 22
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CHRIS free porn video
My friend, I’ll call him “Chris,” followed me outside. It was summertime. The afternoon was turning into early evening, but it was still quite warm. We sat in the deck chairs and put our feet up on the railing. Below us, the yard fell away towards the fence line. My wife was down in the garden. She was naked except for garden clogs, gloves, sunglasses and a big straw hat. Her back was to us.
We sipped our beers in silence, watching my wife.
After several long moments Chris said, “Should we tell her we’re here?”
I looked at him, “Do you want me to tell her we’re here?”
Chris smirked and shook his head.
We sat in silence and watched my wife work.
Chris said, “She looks good. She lose weight?”
“I don’t think so, she’d have said something.”
“She looks good.”
“She’s naked.”
Chris was quiet for a while, then said, “Uh … remember … that time …” He was fumbling. Nervous.
“I remember,” I said, because I did. “That was a while ago.”
“Three years.” Chris said.
“That long?” I thought it’d been longer.
“She ever … mention it?”
“No. Why?” I looked at him.
His face was flushed. He shrugged. “Just wondering.”
I sipped my beer. He sipped his. Another few moments passed.
Chris said, “Do you think … would she … would you … do you all want to … I don’t know … try again?”
I looked at him. I didn’t say anything. He was looking at my wife, glancing from her to me kinda furtively.
“You want to fuck my wife, Chris?” I asked.
He took a big drink from his bottle, wiped his mouth, and grinned.
I said, “It didn’t go well last time … three years ago.”
“I was nervous!” Chris said defensively.
“You’re not nervous now?”
“Well…” But he didn’t finish his thought, because at that moment my wife stood-up and turned around. She saw us. She did a double take and smiled.
I waved. She waved back. I stood up and, leaning on the railing, watched her walk up the yard towards the house. I looked back at Chris, “I’ll talk to her about it.” I said.
Chris stood up and joined me at the railing, “I got pills now.”
“Ah,” I said, “Prescription?”
“Mexico.”
“They work?”
“They have.”
My wife was just below us now. She looked up, “You boys get a good look?”
I said, “Pretty good.”
My wife laughed. She took her hat and gloves off and tossed them somewhere out of sight. She kicked off her garden clogs and wriggled her toes into her flip-flops. She picked up a sarong that’d been d****d over the stair railing and deftly wrapped it around herself, tying it behind her neck – covering herself. Then she ascended the stairs up to the deck where we waited for her.
I kissed her. She smelled of sweat and weeds, soil and sunscreen. She took my beer bottle and frowned because it was empty. Then she took Chris’ and finished what was left. She leaned against the railing and set her heel on one of the crossbars – her sarong fell open slightly, revealing her tan thigh all the way up to her hip.
She looked at Chris, “Get me a beer … would you please?”
Chris walked off happily.
My wife looked at me and smirked.
“He wants another go.” I said.
My wife said, “Does he?” She moved her sunglasses up to the top of her head, holding her hair back.
“He’s got pills now.”
My wife made a noise like she was unimpressed. She said, “That was a long time ago.”
“Three years.” I said.
“I thought it was longer than that.”
Chris came out then with three fresh beers. He handed her one and then me.
My wife took a long drink and looked at Chris, “I hear you got pills now.”
Chris spluttered into his beer, blushing.
“Prescription?” My wife asked.
Chris shook his head, “Mexico.”
“They work?”
“They have, yeah.”
My wife made a “hmph” noise, like she was thinking. She looked at Chris while she drank from her bottle. Then she said, “You got ‘em with you?”
Chris shook his head, “They’re at home.”
My wife said, “Oh … too bad.”
Chris looked flustered, “Well … I mean … I can go … I mean … I don’t always need them. Like … we could … I’m … okay to … now.”
“Are you hard now?” My wife asked.
Chris nodded, holding his crotch.
“Let me see,” My wife said.
Chris undid his pants and pulled his prick out. It was indeed hard.
“Well,” My wife said, smirking, “Would you look at that.” She reached and took hold of Chris’ prick.
Chris took a clumsy step towards her. He lifted the hem of his t-shirt and watched my wife fondle his prick for several moments.
My wife set her beer on the railing and squatted, taking Chris’ prick into her mouth. Her sarong fell open, revealing her naked lower half. She moved slowly and gently, tasting him, using her tongue and lips, getting his shaft wet before taking him deeper. She pulled gently on his balls as she took him all the way into her throat, nuzzling her nose deep into his pubic hair.
Chris groaned and then abruptly came.
My wife was surprised. Her eyes flew wide as she wretched, gagging on his nut. She heaved once, then recovered quickly, adjusting ... settling herself to receive his orgasm. She closed her eyes and worked – calmly gobbling Chris’ nut, holding the backs of his knees. She bobbed gently, gulping and swallowing, as Chris shivered, gasped and squirmed. Finishing. Still holding the hem of his t-shirt up, looking down at her.
He whimpered, “Ah-ah … sorry. Ahhh … sorry-sorry.”
My wife released him and stood-up. She smacked her lips and pulled her sunglasses back down onto her nose. She picked-up her beer and took a long slow drink, looking at Chris from behind her sunglasses. She didn’t look pleased.
Chris looked unsure of himself. He glanced at me, then at my wife. Then put his limp prick away and started to do up his pants.
My wife said, “That oughta last you another three years, Chris.” Then she went inside.
We sipped our beers in silence, watching my wife.
After several long moments Chris said, “Should we tell her we’re here?”
I looked at him, “Do you want me to tell her we’re here?”
Chris smirked and shook his head.
We sat in silence and watched my wife work.
Chris said, “She looks good. She lose weight?”
“I don’t think so, she’d have said something.”
“She looks good.”
“She’s naked.”
Chris was quiet for a while, then said, “Uh … remember … that time …” He was fumbling. Nervous.
“I remember,” I said, because I did. “That was a while ago.”
“Three years.” Chris said.
“That long?” I thought it’d been longer.
“She ever … mention it?”
“No. Why?” I looked at him.
His face was flushed. He shrugged. “Just wondering.”
I sipped my beer. He sipped his. Another few moments passed.
Chris said, “Do you think … would she … would you … do you all want to … I don’t know … try again?”
I looked at him. I didn’t say anything. He was looking at my wife, glancing from her to me kinda furtively.
“You want to fuck my wife, Chris?” I asked.
He took a big drink from his bottle, wiped his mouth, and grinned.
I said, “It didn’t go well last time … three years ago.”
“I was nervous!” Chris said defensively.
“You’re not nervous now?”
“Well…” But he didn’t finish his thought, because at that moment my wife stood-up and turned around. She saw us. She did a double take and smiled.
I waved. She waved back. I stood up and, leaning on the railing, watched her walk up the yard towards the house. I looked back at Chris, “I’ll talk to her about it.” I said.
Chris stood up and joined me at the railing, “I got pills now.”
“Ah,” I said, “Prescription?”
“Mexico.”
“They work?”
“They have.”
My wife was just below us now. She looked up, “You boys get a good look?”
I said, “Pretty good.”
My wife laughed. She took her hat and gloves off and tossed them somewhere out of sight. She kicked off her garden clogs and wriggled her toes into her flip-flops. She picked up a sarong that’d been d****d over the stair railing and deftly wrapped it around herself, tying it behind her neck – covering herself. Then she ascended the stairs up to the deck where we waited for her.
I kissed her. She smelled of sweat and weeds, soil and sunscreen. She took my beer bottle and frowned because it was empty. Then she took Chris’ and finished what was left. She leaned against the railing and set her heel on one of the crossbars – her sarong fell open slightly, revealing her tan thigh all the way up to her hip.
She looked at Chris, “Get me a beer … would you please?”
Chris walked off happily.
My wife looked at me and smirked.
“He wants another go.” I said.
My wife said, “Does he?” She moved her sunglasses up to the top of her head, holding her hair back.
“He’s got pills now.”
My wife made a noise like she was unimpressed. She said, “That was a long time ago.”
“Three years.” I said.
“I thought it was longer than that.”
Chris came out then with three fresh beers. He handed her one and then me.
My wife took a long drink and looked at Chris, “I hear you got pills now.”
Chris spluttered into his beer, blushing.
“Prescription?” My wife asked.
Chris shook his head, “Mexico.”
“They work?”
“They have, yeah.”
My wife made a “hmph” noise, like she was thinking. She looked at Chris while she drank from her bottle. Then she said, “You got ‘em with you?”
Chris shook his head, “They’re at home.”
My wife said, “Oh … too bad.”
Chris looked flustered, “Well … I mean … I can go … I mean … I don’t always need them. Like … we could … I’m … okay to … now.”
“Are you hard now?” My wife asked.
Chris nodded, holding his crotch.
“Let me see,” My wife said.
Chris undid his pants and pulled his prick out. It was indeed hard.
“Well,” My wife said, smirking, “Would you look at that.” She reached and took hold of Chris’ prick.
Chris took a clumsy step towards her. He lifted the hem of his t-shirt and watched my wife fondle his prick for several moments.
My wife set her beer on the railing and squatted, taking Chris’ prick into her mouth. Her sarong fell open, revealing her naked lower half. She moved slowly and gently, tasting him, using her tongue and lips, getting his shaft wet before taking him deeper. She pulled gently on his balls as she took him all the way into her throat, nuzzling her nose deep into his pubic hair.
Chris groaned and then abruptly came.
My wife was surprised. Her eyes flew wide as she wretched, gagging on his nut. She heaved once, then recovered quickly, adjusting ... settling herself to receive his orgasm. She closed her eyes and worked – calmly gobbling Chris’ nut, holding the backs of his knees. She bobbed gently, gulping and swallowing, as Chris shivered, gasped and squirmed. Finishing. Still holding the hem of his t-shirt up, looking down at her.
He whimpered, “Ah-ah … sorry. Ahhh … sorry-sorry.”
My wife released him and stood-up. She smacked her lips and pulled her sunglasses back down onto her nose. She picked-up her beer and took a long slow drink, looking at Chris from behind her sunglasses. She didn’t look pleased.
Chris looked unsure of himself. He glanced at me, then at my wife. Then put his limp prick away and started to do up his pants.
My wife said, “That oughta last you another three years, Chris.” Then she went inside.
Angelica
- 17.09.2022
- 53
- 0
