301 A Favour For Misty 1 free porn video

301 A favour for Misty 1
She is 70 now stands 5feet 7” has a body well overweight, a pretty face, nice personality, fantastic cook and a caring wonderful mum. A neighbour of mine for some years and a good one at that, she was never the sort of soul that a man had fantasies about being not what a chap would call attractive. However, in view of the sexual desert in my house this last year, I must admit to feelings of any port in a storm and even the old bird on the school crossing gets a second look with me of late.
She had been a widow for some years, the love of her life having passed away from being under-weight, quite a bit under-weight as a crane load having fallen on him in the steel yard where he was the foreman, we don’t think she had ever taken a lover or another partner as heartbroken, she had thrown herself at her hobbies of cooking, and craft work which she sold at the market to supplement her small widows pension. Her only son had left home now with a family of his own down south, so she was in a fairly solitary lifestyle my wife being her best friend.
I had occasion to visit, delivering a parcel taken in for her by my wife and, as we all do round here, knocking and letting myself into her kitchen, where I found her in tears.
She was quick to dry her eyes and obviously didn’t want me to see she was upset, so like a good neighbour I ignored her tears pretending not to notice. She accepted the gift and smiled at me putting on her usual brave face and thanking me and telling me to pass the word of thanks to my wife.
Anyway, I was soon home, and explained what had happened to my good lady, who being like all nosey women, was determined to find out why Misty was so upset, she was soon over the road delivering some homemade Jam and sympathy!
She was away a surprising length of time returning having shared a bottle or more of Misty`s home-made wine and everyone round here knows that that is something akin to rocket fuel, her eyes were glazed and her speech in every note had a wobble as did her step. Smiling she held her finger to her lips and staggered off to her bed.
Now those who know me will tell you I am a larger than life, easy-going, sex mad chap in my 60`s whose wife is no longer into sex to any extent, twice a year is an oversight on her calendar, so as she did not wake when I joined her, snoring like a large saw in a big log. I took full advantage of her slumbers and was mounted in a flash; like a rat up a drain pipe, so noticeable was her part in the proceedings and so potent the wine...She did not miss a snore! I however slept with a smile a mile wide!
One to me!
The next morning, she was less than forthcoming holding her head and grunting some-thing about me please being a lot quieter, till I unsympathetically slunk off to work leaving her to sort herself from her hangover.
I returned at my usual time to a sumptuous meal complete with candles and beer, a sure sign in our house that my misses has either done something she is worried about, or she wants something and needs to butter me up first.
The meal went down a treat, steak casserole mash carrots and dumplings, washed down with a beer followed by the finest apple pie and ice cream, then coffee, to me perfection!
Knowing something was afoot; I did as all husbands do, enjoyed the meal and avoided subjects that I thought might be the one she wanted to get into, feeling like a man wearing hobnails and tiptoeing through a magnetic minefield I could not see the killer stroke coming so the conversation went something like this; “What would you think I would do if you dropped dead this instant?”
[That threw me a little, Off-beat, or what!] “Erm... dunno love!” [Good keep it conversational...]
Were you thinking of bumping me off?” I said, eyeing the remains of the pie suspiciously “why do you ask?
Smiling, She Quickly said “no,” but then went on to explain the predicament of our neighbour, and her friend Misty, who`s predicament had ‘gotten to her’
“Oh?” [Non-committal… let her do the talking it`s safer]
She rambled on about how she would miss me and that sort of old twaddle, then said she knew I was still a sexual b**st and that she knew she was not much of a partner for me, etc by now I was panicking expecting her to mention last night’s coupling, but no, she rambled on about how she would have expected me to have strayed by now!
[In every portion of my brain alarm bells were ringing] I strongly affirmed that I had not done anything of the sort and that I never would! [Wrong answer... surprisingly of all the answers in this world I could have picked this was the worse in the whole range]
“Oh!” she said, “that is a shame and I was hoping you may have wanted to stray!”
[No lost again “no speaky lady talk! I don’t understand her convoluted female thoughts]
Like a plonker, I asked what she just said, had I heard her right and would she like to explain?
“Well!” she said “It`s a bit difficult, I sort of offered your sexual services to Misty in fact gave my word last night...
Mouth now open, staring eyes bulging, mind in overtime, I had just talked myself out of a ‘wife legal’ screw! [Woops, Quick! back-paddle make her the guilty one!]
“Your word… what rights have you got to farm me out like some stud horse, I know you are my wife but how would you feel if I offered you out like that?” [Mock -irritation, make her feel guilty!]
She said she was sorry she didn’t think I would have minded, it was just the drink and feeling sorry for her friend, she would go and tell misty that I didn’t fancy her...
[Bloody hell, quick what to do? Think] “you will look a right dummy if you do,” I declared, then added with a deep sigh “oh go on then I will but only to help you out... [ stroke of genius!]
“Would you really do that just for me,” she asked with a twinkle in her eye, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said as she got up and went off to her bedroom tossing the comment over her shoulder that I was to be “over the road at 7 sharp on Saturday evening,
[Game set and match to me… at least I think so, though why oh why do I have a vague feeling of having lost?]


Come Saturday, at six there was I bathed and smelling of roses like some eastern potentate, it had been a long week, I had endured her indoors giving it all the “all the moral sapping stuff like, her little knowing smiles while talking to another neighbour, which had made me feel uncomfortable, but her calling me super stud in front of my workmates, (though I will say she didn’t elaborate) but it was enough to make me squirm, but it was her comments in private, like; “you do realise misty is used to a bigger cock than yours”, and “will you be man enough for her”. and then the subtle comment that “she`s into pain, do you think you will cope with her” were comments, that really did get through to me and had somewhat sapped at my moral. However, I was not going to chicken out now, I wouldn`t give her the satisfaction…
She was obviously enjoying my discomfort enormously; it had all started some months ago, when I had suggested that to spice up our dwindling sex life we should try her sharing with a third party and unbeknown to me she had turned the tables!
Misty, the lady herself had kept a low profile all week; I wondered was she embarrassed, tactful or just shy? I knew not, but as seven approached butterfly`s fluttered round in my stomach as I kissed my wife and strode as manfully as I could muster, out of the house.
The front door of my neighbour`s home opened at the first knock, nothing was said as she beckoned me in, leading me into her warm living room and pointing at an armchair.
Tongue tied both like a couple of blushing teen`s, she managed to say “she was wondering if I would appear as she was not at all certain of what my lady had said when they had both been under the influence of her homemade wine, she had awoken in the cold light of day remembering bits of what may well have been a dream, knowing that she had discussed her lack of sex-life and thought my lady had agreed to the loan of me, she seemed to remember my lady assuring her that I had a surplice of sexual energy and that I would be happy to service her in any way she required!
However, the memory was so vaigue that she hardly knew if it was real or dream and had spent the week wondering if I would appear. She assured me that she was more than happy to see me but would not hold me to the bargain if I was not happy to carry out my side of it, her being so overweight and elderly.
Having had the slings and arrows of my lady all week I knew there could be no turning back and assured her that I would be happy to assist her in any way she wished. Her face was a picture, a beaming smile appeared, and she took my hand dragging it to her chest and holding it flat on her not inconsiderable bust, I could feel her heart thundering under my palm as she began to outline her situation, she said she had been widowed suddenly, and felt her life especially her sex life was over, till then she had been deeply in love and a very active partner to her man who had treated her well and catered for her desires in every way he possibly could.
I suggested we had a drink to ease the tension and that we sat for a while and she outlined her style of sexual pleasure, she agreed and went off to fetch us some of the afore mentioned homemade wine, while I made up the old coal fire.
Together we shared the sofa while toasting our feet in the heat of the fire and ourselves in the wine of the elderflower.
I made a note to recommend the liquid fuel to the people at Cape Canaveral, as I coughed and spluttered my way down the first sips of the stuff; it was no surprise to me the wife had become drunk on it! Anyway, we sat sipping and she told me about her hubby, fortunately for her he was a sadist with a tremendous imagination, as she had been a masochist since her c***dhood, when her father had used his belt on her and her mother most weekends, not for any other reason than he enjoyed it, each woman being made to watch the others naked punishment.
She had married in her teens and her husband had found this sub streak early, he would use her cruelly over the kitchen table, both with his belt and later a whip which she had brought him for his birthday, it now hung on the wall above the fireplace as a showpiece unused and in poor condition.
He always finished an evening with a climax for both of them leaving her then for an hour still secured to that old table just because he could, very occasionally he had her twice. He had even branded her on the cheek of her arse shortly before his death, to show she was his property forever.
He had made her have sex with his old dog for his own entertainment as well, but the dog was long gone now, and she had not had sex other than the odd ‘self-fingering’ since he had gone. She said she would have been obliged if any man would have even taken an interest in her but after his passing she had let herself go for a year or so, drinking and binge eating, then it had been too late her figure robust as it had been was now overweight and she had never managed to attract a man since. She said, “She was glad my lady had come over and offered my services and would I really mind pleasuring a fat old piece like her?”
There were three, no…perhaps four reasons Knew I could not refuse, 1, my wife would never let me hear the end of it if I chickened out, 2, I was sorry for the poor cow, 3, I had never met a masochist before and lastly that bloody rocket fuel had rubberised my legs so running was not an option!
I could hardly say that though, so I just said, “it would be my pleasure,” then kissed her on her lips.
There was an awkward sort of silence then she kissed me again in a really passionate way before beginning to undo the buttons on her blouse, I smacked her fingers playfully away saying that I would do my own undressing thank you Misty!
It was the lightest of finger taps but the effect was out of all proportion, her reaction was one that both surprised and amazed me; she sat bolt upright and apologised for her lack of imagination, calling me “sir” and presenting herself for me to do my own undressing. Even in my fuddled state I clicked on quickly and told her to kneel in front of me, like a shot she was down, her arse facing the warm fire her head bowed.
I undid the buttons, one at a time, the snow-white blouse flapped open revealing a wide expanse of breast in a daunting flesh pink bra, the blouse slid down her arms and onto the floor and the backs of her legs like a white froth.
She still knelt impassively as I fondled the exposed flesh above the armour, I gave her the command; ”turn “and she swung round flicking her blouse from her legs as she complied, presenting her back for me to release the pink armour, which I did holding the two ends so I could read the label 44H, H… wow, I pulled on the two straps and like a rag doll she fell back against my knees, so I kissed her neck. I dropped that big old bra, its shoulder straps slithering away down her arms her hands still passively at her sides, mine slithering round her body to cup and caress the heavy breasts the thumbs feeling for the nipples, as I expected both stiff and erect.
The heat of the fire could be felt on the back of my hands and her skin on her soft breasts, the largest I have been privileged to handle since suckling from my mother as a c***d a million years ago. A while past, and I knew from my hand backs how hot the fire felt on her skin, I took pity and ordered her to stand and face me, which she did.
The breast soft heavy and limp well past their best lay against her belly, itself larger than I would have chosen, her face showed consternation, questioning, would I be revolted by her size?
To reassure her I smiled, relief flooded her rotund face, and she still stood, passively waiting whatever I wished to do to her, power surged through my veins, 2” became a stiff 6 or even 7inches and I knew I was about to become her master and it would not be just for tonight either.
“OK off with the skirt”
Like she had been waiting for the command the dark blue skirt dropped like the curtain at an unveiling, her chubby legs were encased in dark nylon tights, pantyhose the Americans call it, I motioned her to remove them which she did with some speed, kicking the lot to one side.
Again, she straightened up, her big belly spilling over the top of her pink knickers, damp at the gusset, hair spilling from the leg apertures, waiting for the command. “Turn” she turned, her skin hot to touch, “knickers off” the words given in a parade ground whisper, she bent to step from the wet pants, on her rump a scar, the brand, in the shape of a W, a W for William.
She stood silently, the two huge orbs of her white rumps at my face level, her wide back, dark hair over her shoulders, pudgy arms; she was a large girl by any standards. But she had a grace; a sort of placid I am yours if you want me grace, nothing a man could put an exact handle on just something extremely compliantly sexual. The scar of the brand added something, and I had a fleeting wish to add my own mark to this wonderful body; however, I knew it was early days. “Turn” she spun round, half covered by her lower belly her slit peeked out facing me at eye height now, so I told her to lift the slack and with her face flushed she used both hands to lift the mass from its resting place to reveal her luxuriously hairy unclipped bush.
Still supporting her belly for my inspection, her back straight and her face pink with humiliation, I told her from now on she would clip her pubic hair and keep it neat for me.
I told her to sit and have some more of her drink, which she quickly did, saying her backside was scorching from the fire.
I asked her some more about the table, did she still own it and how Will had secured her to it, she corrected me her hubby`s name had been ‘Walter’ and he had always used rope to secure her, her legs to the end legs, her arms to the other end legs, and on occasions she also wore a gag usually of something she had worn and discarded during the strip. If he was feeling particularly sadistic she would be placed on her back, and he would make her breasts and pussy red even occasionally bloody, regardless of what he had done he would always use her afterwards, but it had always finished with her climaxing if necessary by his hands as the final act regardless of how many times she had already done so during the evening.
I asked if she had any rope, she said not, but there was a washing line out back. I sent her to fetch the line, it was raining and black outside, her yard was a small brick walled affair that no one could see into, so I told her not to dress, and with a knife from the kitchen drawer she made short work of fetching the plastic covered line.
All heart I dried her with a rough towel my ministrations tenderising her soft and pliable skin. “Ready?” I asked she took another sip of her drink, stood and silently lifted the whip from its nail, presenting it to me and whispering that she wanted me to take care as it had been a long time.
Then she walked to the old kitchen table and stood to one side as I cut the line into four lengths then tied one to each table leg.
She was visibly trembling as she approached the table, dr****g herself backwards onto the flat surface face upward. I kissed her nipples then her sex, and then told her to “get up and turn over, perhaps that way would be for next time”. I believe relieved she stood spread her legs and patiently waited for me to secure her, that task done she leant forward, arms over her head waiting again for the ropes to be secured. I still had not removed a single item of clothing, now was my moment, I removed every stitch and removed my belt from my trousers.
Now I moved into her line of site, her eyes lit up as she saw the stiff member, average size mayhap, but rigid as a ramrod, in my hand my belt held at the buckle end, her eyes were fixed on the leather strap, nodding her acceptance at the strap as I prodded my dick at her face.
She allowed me entrance to her mouth, suckling like a c***d on a nipple, using my appendage as a gag. I prayed she would not bite as I struck that first blow. The thick belt smacked onto her flabby rump a single red line appeared on the skin, she quickly spat her meaty dummy, saying she was frightened of biting me and wanting a proper gag.
I fetched her tights and knickers, rolling the knickers and was about to fill her face with them when she said she wanted me to “lay it on a lot harder and make me cry please for old time sake”. She then opened her mouth for her knickers, which I secured with her tights.
The next 10 minutes went as a whirl the belt left a pattern on her backside, each stroke jerking her body in its bonds, some from her head end curling across her cheeks with a positive slap the fifth stroke causing her to cry and giving me a rush of power such as I had never felt before, perhaps it was the red mist, falling on me I know not but I went into uncontrolled mode striking at her back and legs, her rump and then her back again from all the angles round the kitchen. She climaxed time and again, tears running down her face like a waterfall. Suddenly sense returned and as fast as I started I stopped, quickly removing her gag.
She sobbed her thanks, then gasped that she wanted just a few with the whip before we finished. Three strokes that old whip managed before it disintegrated; the thongs dried over the fireplace all this time had become brittle.
I went around to her rump inserting my stiff prick into her wet sex, I did not last more than a dozen strokes, exploding my sperm deep into her fat red patterned body, and I returned to her head to allow her to clean my now shrinking tool. When she had finished that task I returned again to her sex, bearing in mind her husband`s ritual using my fingers to stimulate her clitorises, as her back arched and she had the climax that completed the cycle both massive and exhausting.
I left her and dressed, sitting contemplating the evening and finishing the wine, she may not be the best looking, nor is she the slimmest creature but she is the most sexual creature on the planet and I shall need to do this again.
I released her from the table, kissed her, and then told her we must talk tomorrow before without a further word returned to my home. Tomorrow will be another day.
The church clock was striking midnight as I put my key in my home door lock, like a drunk tiptoeing from the pub hoping to be quiet, like something from a seaside postcard her indoors was waiting, no doubt to pounce!
“Oh, so you finally bothered to come home then”
“Yes, my sweet” [be subservient it may save some explanations]
“Took your bloody time didntcha”
“Yes, my sweet” [so far so good]
“You are drunk”
“Not as drunk as you were when you came home from Misty`s”
[whoop`s that was a mistake even a drunk knows when his foot is in the p*o for something he had said]
“What happened?”
“Erm perhaps tomorrow when I have rested” [tactful! time to think]
“RESTED!” She screamed “Bloody degenerate, you don’t get tired with me!”
Gently I pointed out that A, she would have me believe she is not interested in sex herself anymore and B, as I saw it she never managed to arouse me enough to get me tired anyway and it was her idea in the first place!
[Mistake no2, p*o getting deeper by the second]
This last was the final straw on the old camel`s back and it sent her into some sort of female frenzy, frothing at the mouth and swearing at me with words I am reluctant to write here you being such gentle souls, however the jist was that she was less than happy so I did the gentlemanly thing and turned away, toddling off to bed leaving her to calm herself. [An act of shear bravery or was it stupidity!]
At breakfast, next morning we met, her having used the spare room, then having cooked a fine full English, [have you heard the term the condemned ate a hearty breakfast?] like a fly with a hangover, caught in a spiders web I warily started to eat, she sat tight lipped for the first ten very long minutes, lulling me into a false sense of security, then timed to perfection as I filled my mouth with a tasty morsel she started with acute female logic, by saying that she had set me up with that ‘sad fat cow’ to test my resolve as a husband and that I had failed the test miserably. [Whoops? Tactical blunder!]
Gulping down a mouth full of bacon and eggs I replied that Misty may be a sad fat cow, but she knew how to treat a man, and that I had enjoyed myself the evening before and that I should be doing it again soon if the mood took me and things at home didn’t improve.
[Another Tactical blunder, a taste of bravery, or perhaps the bravado of the condemned] Eyes bulged, mouth like a goldfish, she at last was at a loss for words.
Now in all the great movies the hero...[me,!] would have strode off stage left leaving her stood in tears, Unfortunately this didn’t rate a B movie! Dopey here sat finishing his bacon and eggs while the heroine girded her loins for another broadside and things quickly developed from a river boat skirmish, to the battle of Jutland in miniature! two major fleets mauling at one another before both retreating declaring a victory, Battle ensigns now firmly raised we were both on the point of starting firing the first shot like a couple of sumo wrestlers sizing one another up, when, Ding Dong the bloody doorbell intervened.
Cursing she went to answer the door. It was misty.
Like someone had thrown a switch my opponent changed instantly, opening the door like the perfect hostess, no longer the opposing fleet she was now the welcoming hostess, all sugar sweet.
[Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly?]
Misty came into the kitchen and was offered a seat, she coloured up as she refused saying it pained her to sit this morning to which her indoors gave me a glare as if to say had I been doing anal which she always regarded as her own private perversion! Reading her mind, I shook my head with a slow smile.
Misty said she had come to express her thanks to us both, and that she had been near committing suicide till we had come to her aid. She thanked my misses for the loan of me and she thanked me for being so helpful and understanding in such a firm way, she said that she had not enjoyed an evening so much since Walter`s demise. She hoped I would both take advantage of her body again as she felt she wished to be used in any way I or indeed we wished, just to say thanks for helping her out at her lowest ebb. With that she swept out leaving us both gobsmacked.
[Game and match to the fly]
I wondered, if battle was about to be re-joined, but no, she sat down pouring me fresh tea and eyeing me with a spurious look that said little
She seemed genuinely shaken. “You helpful and understanding, I don’t believe that you son of a bitch!” [Seconds out round two] She asked what specifically I had done for her friend [suddenly she`s a friend I note not ‘that fat cow’] why would she not sit down and what had brought about that bombshell,
Patiently I explained step by step what had happened the night before, I could hardly believe it all myself. What Misty had said of both her youth and her married life, she sat attentively while I went through the whole evening blow by savage blow, Her, jaw had slowly dropped during the latter part of the story, and I could tell she was turned on a lot by the lurid details, every cloud they say has a silver lining and she surprised me by apologising for her casting me into the sexual desert and then promised to be more forthcoming from now on! [jaw dropped open, as it was defo not what I expected]
Sadly, neither of us had realised that misty had been so desperately unhappy and we resolved to talk to our neighbour and after that to decide on the next move. Tactfully I suggested that she went over and had a long talk to Misty, partly to understand her and partly to come to some arrangement that would suit all parties, calling me when she felt the time was right.
My thinking being that if she sorted out the job, her being of the more easily upset gender she couldn’t complain!! [Some bloody hope but worth a try]
Off she went, happily thinking I was a gentleman leaving the tactful negotiations to her. However, I believed as I was the one with the penis I held the whip hand [a classic delusion and famous last words] it being Sunday I went back to my bed!
It was mid-afternoon when the lady wife woke me with a brew of tea saying for me to “come over the road, we need to talk!”; Chamberlain had returned from Berlin or Munich or wherever ...peace in our time...a compromise had been agreed.
I showered and dressed before presenting myself to what was now to be the ladies in my life. Wondering what the next chapter in our triangle would bring and realising I have committed the silly mistake [in my defence I had a hangover from the elderflower wine] of letting my wife, [who it is to be remembered started all this] go and chat to the lady (misty) on her own.
Each step is like a step nearer the scaffold as, though I did use the lady yesterday evening, The wife had gone ahead again while I had a shower; hence it was a long lonely path I was treading, the door creaked open and I was in the hallway, distant sounds of women laughing, I peeped round the living room door, and there before me were the two women, a glass in the hand of each, of home-made wine again, Damson this time, happy eyes swivel in my direction, a crooked finger beckons, and I am into the dragons den.
Giggles, damson wine induced giggles, emanate from each of the women, “we have decided that we will share you little man” ...they said in stereo. [Little man I stand 6 ft 3 and 20 stone!] !* ?
“We have sat here for most of the day and we have made some decisions as well as drinking this wonderful wine,” my lady hiccupped “she went onto say they had decided that we all must talk more.
[talk...phew!]
The wife gibbered on for a moment or two but her words were jumbled, the damson `s being fully in charge, Misty again being more oh-fay with damson than I, , interpreted that my good lady felt we humans were always at one another`s throats because we didn’t talk enough, we hid things from one another and that was no way to live.
[Ok but is that not like a million others?]
As if reading my mind Misty said that “millions kept secrets from one another and it never does any good in the long run, her and Walter always talked and that`s how they knew he was a sadist and she a masochist, now did we both want to try or not?”
My Milly, having lost her inhibitions completely by now, explained things we [WE?] had been too shy or repressed to share. So we agreed the idea was good, and we each in turn explained the fantasies we had always harboured, my lady having trouble with her words,
I was surprised when Milly said “as she was now more mature now, [REALY?] she would like to try sex with a woman again, but would I mind? We exchanged glances!
[Mind… bloody hell, I thought it fantastic but didn’t want to seem over enthusiastic! Oh yes and what`s this AGAIN shit? I didn’t know till now she had ever…oh never mind!]
“Well it`s no threat to our marriage my love is it, perhaps as you were so understanding about Misty and I yesterday, I should be as understanding”
[Understanding lol! you shouted your bloody head off you old bag and it was your idea, but I so want to see you in a depraved 6/9 with Misty and I want to get some more of that sex stuff for myself].
Jumping on the opportunity I said I had always wanted to do some S&M with her but had never had the balls to mention it knowing her low threshold of pain! She seemed surprised. Saying she in turn had wanted to use a strap-on on me, but again had not liked to rock the boat. [ yeh well that may have wobbled it a bit I must admit!]
Misty said she could now stand in for each of us as the recipient if it would help. [What a Good game girl!] I suggested we should just talk for a bit today as by now the wine was taking effect [TAKING EFFECT, READ POTENT SHIT WAS ENSURING BROOWERS DROOP may have been a big risk and I could do without embarrassment] So I said it may be better and less embarrassing for both ladies to not have any audience the first time so perhaps tomorrow would be better for the both of them.
There were some practicalities, such as some getting better ropes, or perhaps cuffs, a new whip, vibrators, perhaps a strap-on, and a tawse [Misty`s own choice this] or strap`s, and a proper gag, I suggested perhaps even a new table or a pillory or, or [my mind went into overtime] Milly, ever practical, suggested they could wait for non-essentials till we were sure we would get the use from them, which sounded good to me
Soberest amongst us I went and fetched my lap-top, tottering back and forth risking the traffic in fine style and in front of the roaring fire a lady on either side we all spent a fascinating hour mail ordering the necessary items from a reputable dealer, both for basic S&M and for the women.
The soporific effect of the fire and the wine soon had us dozing, the laptop slid to the floor and we were soon all asleep in a heap. When I next came too; cold and cramped, the fire was out, and dawn breaking through the kitchen window, head now a home for a steam hammer and mouth like a furry cave. I woke the ladies.
Then set a kettle on Misty`s gas-stove, we needed tea, not coffee as them Americans, but real strong proper English tea.
We were too fragile for sexual adventures so after tea and muttering never again we were all away to our own beds. Hardly had I laid down when I realised it was Monday.
MONDAY, SHIT! I was due at work, head banging like crazy I was soon showered and dressed, today would be an attending day, I would be there but doubted I would be much use. Milly fortunately was on late shift so had more time.
I don’t remember the drive! By, mid-afternoon my hangover had cleared, so my shift over I rang her works and she said she was feeling better now, herself. We agreed that drinking would from now on be something for Fridays and Saturdays only! [Famous last words] however how did she feel about the rest of the situation?] We dare not say anything riskay as she could be overheard so her answer was to say “she was exited at the prospect” [wow!] Reassured I phoned Misty inviting her to tea at our table, saying we needed to talk soberly.
We got together at the table that evening and we confirmed the way we all felt, and that it was not just the drink talking. Milly only worked now on four days, the late shift on Fridays having kicked in, so it was decided that the Wednesday her day off, would be ladies day and Friday mine with Saturday and occasionally Sunday for perhaps more robust happenings with everyone involved.
The next thing of note was on the following Wednesday evening as I had arrived home to an empty house knowing the ladies would be at Misty`s and contemplating having a lonely tea, or a trip to the chippy. Just then, the phone rang, it was Milly asking me to “pop over.” [I thought; Oh dear, whatever now?]
I was quickly over at Misty`s, where I found the two ladies in housecoats and Milly sitting on that sofa looking happy, Misty in the kitchen.
Milly said that she was sorry she had not been in to “do my tea” but that when she had awoken soon after I left for work that morning, she had come over to Misty`s ‘for coffee’, they had talked for a while then begun making slow and gentle love, so intense had the action become that they had missed the midday meal and had finally drifted off to sleep mid-afternoon, their bodies exhausted, they had just come too, and had sent for me to share the meal that I could now smell! “Happy?” I enquired
Milly quietly told me that sex with Misty had been just awesome, all that she had ever imagined though it had taken a while to get over their shyness and that “they would be doing it again soon, if I had no objections,” she also said that Misty had suggested her trying dominating her, something she had not before even dreamed of.
I told her that if it meant we would be having sex more often and she was happy then I was ok with it.
They couldn’t wait for the ordered items to arrive to experiment. We ate the meal together, then I kissed my wife telling her it was her night, I then kissed Misty and returned to my lonely bed, imagining what was going on over the road and knowing that I could watch the midweek play on telly iin peace!
The stuff we had ordered arrived on Friday afternoon. After my work Misty and I enjoyed unpacking the items, a place being found in Misty`s living-room cupboard for most of the bondage and Domination items, though I did note her squirreling away some odd bits in her bedside cupboard.
After a hurried tea, Misty was soon over the old table, secured by the new straps, and wristlets, the shiny new ball gag in her mouth and the new soft whip in my sweaty claw.
I could tell you of the wondrous evenings, of how my lady now spends her Wednesdays, taking my place, my whips in her hand, of the Saturdays, when we all enjoyed the games, of Misty`s revenge day which we allow every few months, when she became the mistress for the day, of why we had to get Misty a new bed, hers breaking under all of us, or why the old table had to go
I could, but I am not going too till you make some comments, lol..