A Bit Of Polish And Tickle free porn video

A BIT OF POLISH AND TICKLE

Part Two of the Little Standing Chronicles

I’d left myself, at the end of part one, sexually satisfied in an English field. I’d met Tanya not long after I’d left my new home to stroll down to the local village and generally scout out the locale. I’d heard her curses coming from behind a hedge and so had popped my head over the nearby five-bar gate. Tanya had nipped over the gate herself so that she could relieve her full bladder. Unfortunately, as she squatted down, her knickers had become caught in a large branch by the hedge. I was greeted by the sight of a pale bottom pointing at me whilst a fulsome jet of piss cascaded downwards and her awkward turning ensnared her ever more firmly onto the branch. At her insistence I had climbed the gate, helped extricate her (which entailed me stripping her from the waist down) and then, in very short time, I hardly know how, had found myself balls deep in her pussy as she clung to the old wooden gate. A short, sharp satisfying fuck had then followed.

Afterwards she explained that by peeing by this gate, part of my property, she was performing a more modern version of an ancient local custom whereby neighbours would leave their “scent” on one another’s doorsteps as a way of greeting them. Tanya was bright and breezy and I estimated in her late twenties or early thirties. Almost as soon as we’d finished our rutting she’d passed a few civil words and then gone on her merry way leaving me in a bemused but happy state. My desire to see the village had waned and the night was now closing in. I felt a tiredness creeping over me so walked the short path back to my newly bought manor house, had a large whisky and then retired for the night.
The next day I found that I awoke surprisingly early for me. Having been what can only be described as one of the idle rich for some time I was used to late night partying and late rising. Only part of my wealth was inherited – most of it was obtained by my brainwork in the patenting of an electronic device that had become standard equipment in any production (movies or songs mostly) wanting quality sound i.e. a lot. Here, though, the sun shot golden beams around the heavy curtains, an open window let scents of freshness into the room and I just felt the urge to get up and, perhaps, to continue to explore what I had not seen the night before.

I grubbed around on the floor next to the bed and found yesterdays undies. Immediately I saw the crusty white patch of dried goo on the crotch. Memories of the previous evenings fuck flooded back. I admit I scratched a little at the dry patch and inhaled its aroma of spunk and pussy juice. I threw the garment into the laundry basket and pulled on my satin robe. I headed downstairs and made myself a strong coffee. Then I wandered into what I thought I was most likely to use as a lounge or living room. It was large and old fashioned. I had bought some of the furniture along with the house and settled myself in a high-backed red leather armchair to study the wood-panelled walls and began to imagine how I could update the place. Soon, however, my mind returned to the previous evening.

My robe had opened a little and my circumcised prick lay along my right thigh as I reclined slightly, a cool draft wafting across it. I looked at my neatly trimmed pubes most of which I shave off apart from a patch directly above the root of my penis. The images that sprang to mind of Tanya’s piss-gushing cunt, her well rounded arse, her somewhat loose and pliable belly and breasts and also of her finely haired mound and slit soon had my cock standing to full attention. I hadn’t showered the previous evening and I could see little wisps of dried pussy juice still clinging to my pubes. I began to manipulate the sides of my dick and let my fingers lightly run across my ball sac. Maybe it was the fresh country air but I was rampant again and decided the exploration of the village could wait. I parted my robe completely and closed my eyes, the better to bring back memories of Tanya’s palely parted cheeks as my cock slid between them, and I gave myself up to the beginnings of a delicious wank. Delving my finger into the warm grooves at the base of my cock where it met my fleshy pubic mound I felt a moist, residual, oily substance. I lifted this concentrated juice to my nostrils to once more get a reminder of the aroma of Tanya’s deepest secretions.

At that moment I heard a definite cough immediately to my left. I sat bolt upright and spun around to see a middle-aged woman, dressed in loose cotton gymwear, standing there with her eyes to the ceiling and a twisted disapproving look to her mouth and face.
“Who the hell are you?” I blurted out.
“Mrs. Carter, your cleaner,” she snapped back instantly whilst still looking upwards.
“I don’t have a damn cleaner and how the hell did you get in?” I cried, hastily covering my wilting erection with my robe.
“With the key what has been in my family for three generations, is how,” came her second snappy retort. “Carters have always cleaned at the manor. That smarmy agent should of told you that.” With this she finally met my eye. She would have seen the lightbulb of truth suddenly flicker there. She was right. The agent was an oily little fucker. And he had in fact said that the place was being looked after regularly. Mrs. Carter read this from my face in one second flat. With a curt nod she turned on her heel and made for the exit. “I’ll be in the kitchen if I’m needed…once you’re dressed,” she added as a farewell. I watched her plump, cotton clad bum as it exited the room.
My mind, not to mention my heartbeat, raced. Gradually, however, I calmed and gathered my thoughts. I would be needing a cleaner and as this one would be as good as any. I had already noticed how tidy and dust free the place was so she must do a good job. Additionally, despite being somewhat snippy, she hadn’t actually fainted away or run screaming from the house when she had caught me blatantly wanking in the lounge in broad daylight. So not overly prudish then, which would be a bonus in a housekeeper. Right, I thought, I’ll go and seal the deal now. After all, it was my own house and I could do what I wanted where and when I wanted and so had no real reason to feel ashamed at being caught out with my cock in my hand.

Making sure that the robe was tightly fastened I made my way back along the darkish passageway to the kitchen. I was padding quietly along barefoot, formulating what I would say to her, when I heard a voice. It was Mrs. Carter and she was obviously muttering to herself. The kitchen door was half ajar and this left a gap between the frame and the door of almost an inch and a half such was the way these old houses were built. The bright light from the kitchen shone through this gap into the hall and then a shadow moved across it. I peered through the gap and saw Mrs. Carter squatting down on her haunches just to my right on the other side of the door. She was obviously leaning in to get something from a low cupboard but what I noticed at once was the view straight down her loose, V-necked, T-shirt. Her breasts were plumply squashed upwards and together creating a deep furrow between them that strained at the material as she groped to the furthest reaches of the cupboard with her left hand. I then noticed that as she manoeuvred herself she threw her right knee outwards. This caused the soft material of her track suit bottoms to cling at her bulging sex, giving her a deep camel toe in the process. I was about to enter the kitchen when I thought that I should try to catch the drift of her muttering, to find out if she was angry or not.

“Sat there, bold as brass, with his old thingy in ‘is ‘and, I dunno. Middle of the morning and not dressed with nothin’ better to do with himself than that. Looks like we got another dirty one at the Manor house and no mistake. Still, it were quite a nice looking thingy… even if he ‘ad gone and shaved most of it. Kinky bugger. Still, gave me a little tingle it did… right in my old puss…must have been the surprise I suppose. And one o’ them circumcised ones. I quite like that, can see his shape…. better than hanging there like a yard o’ carpet. Nice lookin’ feller, too…”
Mrs. Carter’s obvious lack of real concern and, more importantly, the narrow view of her body, started to arouse me. My flaccid dick had leaked a little warm pre-cum on my thigh but now I felt it begin to stiffen once again. I noted the fat firmness of Mrs. Carter’s encased mound and saw the trace of blue veins under the tanned flesh of her bosom as it bulged and squirmed. Although she was dressed in dull work clothes, her face free of make-up and her long straight brown hair hanging down I could see that she had quite fine features. A tanned skin with a healthy glow. Good cheekbones, small nose, fuller mouth and, when she had finally turned her gaze on me in the lounge, I had seen pretty hazel coloured eyes. An almost Mediterranean appearance over all. Another twist from her made her bosom bulge all the more and at this point I must have made a small groan or sigh.

Her head snapped up but she looked behind her. Improvising in this split second I coughed more forcibly and blustered into the kitchen, making sure my robe was fully wound around me. I pretended to briefly look about the kitchen before suddenly spotting her crouching down to my right. I took a step back from her. “Ah, Mrs. Carter,” I began calmly like I hadn’t just been staring at her tits, “I wanted to apologise to you. Absolutely unforgivable behaviour on my part,“ I blustered. “If I had had any idea at all that I was not entirely alone I would not have behaved so disgustingly. You must forgive me. Of course, I understand if you wish to leave and I’ll cause no problem about pay at all if you’ll only…”
“Hang about, hang about,” butted in Mrs. Carter, “what do you mean by “leave”?” she asked, the fierce look returning to her eye.
“Well, if I’ve upset you and you feel at all, er, unsafe, working here, then I’ll understand.”
“Unsafe, mister? Unsafe? You wouldn’t begin to believe what I ‘ad to put up with from the old Colonel. He were a terror at times. No, don’t you fret on it. I seen ten times worse in this place than a bloke having a...well, a man er… I mean someone who was…”
“Yes, well we both know what I was up to,” I murmured with what I hoped was a disarming shrug and a small smile. “And I’m sorry to have embarrassed you, Mrs. Carter.” A moment’s silence as we sized one another up and then she nodded. A nod, it seemed, was Mrs. Carter’s way of concluding a conversation.

“We’ll say no more about it then,” she stated. And then she sighed and began to wander about the kitchen gathering cleaning things and moving items as she talked. “I don’t mean to talk badly about the Colonel, really. He were a dear man and looked after me and my family. Just, as he got older, he wasn’t able to behave as he wanted to really. I mean, he liked the ladies did the Colonel but I suppose it catches up with us all in the end. And he got quite sad and lonely, turned most people away. Just me and a couple of others stayed close.”

As she bustled I took her in. Smallish, a little over 5 foot, slightly stocky. Sturdy might be the word - but not fat. A pale cotton T-shirt tantalisingly clinging to a good-sized bosom, with a dark brassiere showing beneath it. Grey cotton pants that, as she turned to and from me, I could see were still rucked up into her various crevices from when she had stood up quickly. When she had her back to me the divide of her buttocks was clear. Full, low buttocks but not wobbling and slack. When she turned to me I sneaked a look downwards to confirm that her bulging pouch was still clearly defined and her deep groove had pulled the thin material into her snatch.

Her voice had taken on a contemplative tone and had grown wistful. Almost confessional. “He liked me try to help him out now and again.” If she saw my puzzled frown she ignored it. “He liked to watch me cleaning,” she sighed. “Liked me to wear different things, too.” She nervously glanced at me then continued. “Silly maid’s uniforms at first but I stopped that. Ridiculous. But then just tighter things or something a bit skimpy as I bent and stretched about the place,“ she smiled reflectively. “I would look back at him and he were ogling me something terrible. At first he used to… he used… well, like you were doing today as it happens,” she almost whispered. Her soft country accent, with its rounded burring sound was entrancing me and I could imagine the scene she was describing. Once again I felt a twitch from within my robe. “But then he failed at that. Then,” she suddenly blurted out, ”I even tried to help the old bugger out.” She reddened, charmingly. Then with a deep breath continued, “But that only really worked a couple of times and he was back to square one. We used to call it me giving him a bit of a polish and tickle.”

She had stopped her pacing by now and was standing in front of me. She looked up at me and her eyes began to swim with tears. “Not long after that he just gave up the ghost and then he.. he.. he was gone.” Her lower lip trembled. “It were me that found ‘im in his bed. I knew as soon as I came in the place that summat was up,” she wailed and then fell forward to bury her head in my chest as sobs and cries wracked her. Instinctively I held her and tried to soothe her despite my generally useless abilities in such situations. I patted Mrs. Carter gently on the back and slowly rocked side to side as I muttered “there, there” and “never mind” and “that’s it” over her head.

I felt her arms snake around my back and grip me. I lowered my face and it seemed natural to gently kiss the top of her head, smelling fresh shampoo aromas and feeling the warmth of her. I felt the bulge of her breasts as they pressed against my belly and the moist heat of her mouth on the skin of my chest where my robe had parted. Her warm and pliant body was pressed up against the length of my front and suddenly I was aware that my prick was hardening. I can only think that as I’d never been the consoling type before my mind only recognised this sort of close contact as a pre-cursor to sex and the inevitable happened. I tried to subtly turn aside so that my prick wouldn’t be stabbing into her stomach but this only seemed to make things worse. By turning to my left I had pulled my robe open and pressed my uncovered right thigh hard against the heat of Mrs. Carter’s crotch. Additionally, my prick was no longer constrained and it sprung to full attention as it suddenly filled and I felt the delicious sensation of the smooth silk dragging across my helmet. I felt Mrs. Carter’s legs part a little so that her warm mound clung tighter to me but my main thought was not to get caught out again, especially at such an emotional moment.

As I tried to edge away a bit my erection popped out from the gap of my robe. I just moved one arm to try to cover myself when Mrs. Carter pulled her right arm away from my back. As our bodies moved her right hand slid right across my hardened penis. She snapped her head up to me. Her eyes were red and her face blotchy but there were other looks there all mingled together. Part accusation, part surprise, part resignation as if to say “typical man”, but also part arousal. I held my breath for moments that seemed like hours. Talk about life flashing before your eyes, I imagined a future of court cases for indecency and lechery, headlines of shame and vilification. Then I felt her warm hand shakily grasp my rod once again and squeeze tentatively at the shaft.

I dipped my face to hers and our mouths met in a lustful wet mashing. Our teeth gently knocked together before we got our aim right and we melded our lips. I felt a little flutter of tongue tip on my lower lip and met it with a gentle action of my own. A heavy breath escaped my nostrils as I sunk deeper to her and clasped her more tightly in my arms. She responded by standing on her tippy toes and gripping the back of my head with her free hand. Her right now squeezed harder around my prick. She gave a pulse of her fist and I felt a bubble of my juice pop from my slit. At this her tongue dug deeper into my mouth. I lowered a hand and took a firm hold of her arse, pulling her to me once again. She pushed her humid crotch at my thigh as she had before and I could feel the soft flesh mould itself to my bare leg.
At my direction we backed up shuffling across the kitchen floor, still welded to one another. Her butt came to rest against a worktop. I bent my knees, gripped her on the hamstrings and lifted her up onto the smooth wooden surface. Immediately her thighs parted, both her arms met behind my head and we resumed kissing as my throbbing cock got crushed up against her groin. She crossed her ankles behind my back and held me tightly against her pussy.

I began to flex my hips a little and felt the under-ridge of my glans grinding on something. It was the thick waist band of her gym leggings and the knot of the drawstring at the front. The junction of my shaft base and the top of my sac was pressed hard against her puffy mound and must have been pressurising her clitoris as I rubbed gently back and forth against her. I felt her hands begin to explore my back and I reciprocated. In perfect synchronicity we loosened our upper body grip then and as I pulled the thin cotton Tee over her long hair she forced my robe from both my shoulders, exposing my chest. I wriggled my arms free and the robe bunched where her legs surrounded my waist. She flexed her thighs and the only piece of clothing I had worn was off me, joining her T-shirt on the floor.

I drank in the view of her body as she propped herself up with her hands behind her on the worktop. Her bra was a navy blue with a fine lace around the top edging of the cups but was quite utilitarian otherwise. Her belly was just a little lined and a bit flabby now that it was exposed (she was obviously a mother) but the skin was darkly tanned and her navel a cute little dip in its centre. Her arms were firm and only a light down caught the sunlight streaming through the window behind her. However, I also noticed that as she reclined her underarms showed a dark shadow of stubble with what could easily be a week or so of growth. I hadn’t seen this on a woman since my band days in 1980’s Europe.

Before I could be too distracted the dark cleavage of her bust beckoned me and it heaved as I reached my hands to her. I gently held the sides of her stiff brassiere material and manipulated it together, briefly meeting her glance as she studied me in my exploration of her. Through the fine blue lace part of her bra I could see the darker smear of the top of her areolae. A definite bump thrust at the plain material just below this. I ran first one hand and then both across these bumps and her eyes fluttered. I began to tweak and pull at the protuberances whilst cupping each breast more fully. I lowered my head to her and nibbled at the cloth leaving a darker damp patch over each teat. Then I reached behind her and unclipped the hooks.

As I pulled the thin straps from her shoulders she sat forward and flicked each hand through the loop in turn so that the bra was lofted aside. As, once more, I sank my head to her bosom I noticed that her tits were as deeply tanned as her stomach and arms. I noted the pale blue lines of veins running under the flesh. The nipples were a dark brown colour, as thick as a carpenter’s pencil, their dark surroundings gathered in tiny excited ridges around the inch-long jutting flesh. I rolled first one and then the other into my mouth, rasping at the hard puckering of the hot, pliant flesh. Mrs. Carter supported herself on one hand now and cradled the back of my head as if I were a babe suckling. I stroked her firm back along the length of her spine and let my hands wander back to the sides of her breasts. As I licked at one I massaged and stroked the other, swapping greedily between the two.

All this time my erection had been waving free in the air as I had been bowing forwards to suckle. I felt a small warm dribble land on my foot and, stepping back, I looked down to see that a long strand of clear pre-cum was hanging from my penis, almost as far as my knees. As both Mrs. Carter and I watched another dollop dropped to land between my feet on the stone kitchen floor and the strand seemed to retract a good six inches or so. With a definite groan Mrs. Carter put her hand at the bottom of this hanging trail and scooped it upwards so that it pooled in her palm. She encased my cock head with her glistening paw and smeared the collected ooze down over my rod to the very base of it before letting it swing free again. Sunlight caught it and it twinkled as it pulsed and flexed under her gaze.

She slid her bottom off the edge of the worktop and in one move crouched, pulled our crumpled clothes to a ball between my feet and then knelt on it. Without a word she grasped my upward pointing shaft and angled it down so that it poked out at ninety degrees to my body. This caused the skin to tauten and the glans to bulge. A small bubble of my fluid grew out of my cock’s eye and I watched as her mouth opened and she lapped at the gel. Then she sunk her mouth completely over the head of my penis in one gulp. The heat of her engulfed me and I felt the hard ridges of the roof of her palette as they rubbed against the rind of my dick. Her tongue pressed up against the sensitive underside of me and she squirmed it wetly there before the pointed tip found its way to my slit. She revolved her lively tongue around my head and then began to suck harshly at me. Her cheeks caved inwards as she kept a strong pressure on me and bobbed her head back and forth, back and forth. As she expertly fellated me she had one small hand gripping my fleshy tube to keep it pointing at her and she slowly, but firmly, wanked it. The other hand she used to lightly caress my balls and under my sac towards the now sweating channel that led to my arsehole.

If she had continued for on a few more minutes I think I may well have filled her mouth with cum but she was obviously an experienced woman. She slowed her actions and released me from her mouth, gently eased her closed hand along my shaft and back, spreading the thick slime of her spittle and my juice over it, before letting me go. She stood up then took a step back and pulled at the bow of the drawstring on her tracksuit bottoms. It loosened and she eased both them and her knickers down over her thighs in one smooth action, all the while staring me defiantly in the eye.
I gasped as I gazed at her. In some ways I was shocked. In other ways I was, I hate to say it, almost disgusted. But then another feeling kicked in, that of lust. You see, as I said earlier, I am not a poor man. The crowd I mixed with were, to use an old-fashioned phrase, the Beautiful People. The women that I consorted with were often surgically tweaked, tucked and enhanced, especially among my age group of the 40’s and up. Expensively and subtly so in most cases but nevertheless fashioned to a clinical perfection. Most commonly of all they were without exception completely hairless from the shoulders down! But Mrs. Carter was displaying a fully-grown bush.

Now, it wasn’t a vast sprawling thicket of matted hair spreading from belly to mid-thigh but it was something of a surprise. Her thighs were, as mentioned earlier, sturdy and she was not a leggy woman. But there was a slightly discernible gap between her upper legs for all that. Again, I noticed that there were absolutely no tan lines on Mrs. Carter. The patch of brown hair was quite dense over her Mound of Venus but was a neatly downward- pointing triangle. The curls were short and neat generally. They thinned just a little over the lower lips and this did nothing to hide the full set of pale pink labia that hung from between her plump outer lips. My initial shock turned almost at once to curiosity and I gazed mesmerised at her full growth. On the periphery of my vision I was dealing with the fact that her tanned skin was somewhat mottled and loose, that her heavy breasts, now that she was standing, slumped low to her upper belly, that thin lines crossed her stomach and that she was, overall, somewhat squat and solid. But none of it mattered. Here was a real woman, with real her real original body offering it all to me.

I used the bundle of my robe as she had and knelt before her. But she was too short and my head was level with her navel. With my hand I urged her backwards and, wordlessly, she caught my meaning and once more popped her bum up onto the worktop. Then slowly and magnificently she lay back, raised her heels to the edge of the surface and spread her legs for me.

The hairy patch, I now saw, continued into the little hollows of her inner thigh and down towards her arse. But it was sparser and her sex was plain for me to see. There was a line of curling pubes that grew down along each outer labia and then met below her quivering sex. Compared to the rest of her tanned skin these most intimate parts were the palest pink. The inner lips bulged as one ridge at first, naked, wrinkled and clinging together with only a faintly glistening line of moisture along the centre line of them. But as I firmly lay a hand on either of her fatter outer lips and gently parted them the single, crinkled mass separated. To my eager eyes was revealed the pulsing heart of her cunt.
The soft skin peeled itself asunder, starting at the lower reaches where it was closest to the centre of her sex. As it did so fine strands of her lubrication, mostly clear but with a clouded milky hint, stretched across her hole, clinging to the folds and wrinkles of flesh on either side. A deeply feminine aroma arose from this reddened gap, fresh but tangy, and I heard a faint sucking sound as the inner walls of her also relaxed and parted. This opening was roughly circular but tiny bulges and spikes of flesh protruded from the now throbbing orifice. The lips continued to pull apart and I saw the glazed bulge of her piss hole as it swam in a pool of her juices. Then the lips darted back in together to meet just below the point of her straining clitoris.

With a shuffle of my fingertips I flicked the darker rind of her clit hood upwards and the white/grey/pink of the nubbin popped into view. I let the arched flap of skin slip back over its secret and lowered my face between her thighs. Firstly, I delved my tongue deep into her hole and felt the burning heat there. The bitter sweet taste of her love juice coated my writhing tongue as I sought out her innermost depths and ridges. Then I pulled back and began a methodical, rhythmic kissing and lapping along both of the plump outer rolls of her sex, savouring the rasp of her pubes against my mouth and cheek. I sucked the lips one by one and then drew both of them together. The bulging flesh filled my mouth and I again darted my pointed tongue into the slit to seek out the streaming passage of her vagina. I worked upwards to lap at her twitching urethra, teasing the bulb surrounding her opening before once more plunging to her deepest hole.

All the while I manipulated other areas of her body. From gently stroking her calves and thighs to pinching and squeezing her thrusting nipples, from smoothing my hands over her warm belly to letting her suck at my fingertips I left no part of her out of the action. Apart from her clitoris. Until, with an insistent push on the back of my head from Mrs. Carter, I finally took the round-tipped erection between my lips. At first a light lapping and teasing. Then a more powerful sucking to mimic the action she had performed on me. I, too, bounced my head gently back and forth on her sexual spike, making the shaft move within the hood whilst my tongue squirmed over the exquisitely sensitive tip. Her hips began to thrust and her buttocks slid back and forth as she built herself up to orgasm. Finally, with a barely muted roar, she planted her feet on my shoulders, clasped the back of my head and ground her cunt onto my face and mouth as shudders of delight ripped through her. I felt a hot gush over my chin and another, stronger taste of her pussy filled my mouth as she climaxed lustily. She was bent almost double over me and I felt her sweating breasts on my head as she folded herself in ecstasy. I gripped her to me as she came and came.

Her body was bathed with sweat and her skin slippery as she pulsed and writhed her way through climax. Slowly the intensity lessened and I could take a deep breath of air as her thighs released my head. I nuzzled my way up to her belly and tasted the pool of salty sweat in her belly button. Then up to her slick breasts and kissed the moist flesh of her nipple. I sniffed and licked at her scratchy armpit and finally locked my mouth onto hers. She gave little moans now, grateful sounds of satisfaction as I held her to me. But by rising upwards I had brought my fat, throbbing cock to the entrance of her oozing pit.

Her hole was gaping wide as I eased forward. My thick head caught momentarily at her entrance as I felt her pussy hair catch at me but with a practised twitch of her hips my cock was engulfed by her cunt. The forward momentum slammed my length right into her so that I ran right up to her cervix in one easy movement. We both gasped and hissed aloud as the sensations of pleasure overwhelmed us. I let myself stay exactly where I was and felt the heat of her along my entire length as she gripped me with her ridged muscle. Our arms engulfed one another and we clung together savouring this new level of intimacy. Her legs gripped me around the waist and her feet urged me further inwards with insistent nudges against my buttocks. I mashed my neatly trimmed pubic patch against her thicker growth and the prickling joined the other sensations of pleasure. Bending my knees and grinding forward I seemed to feed another inch of my rampant meat into her tunnel. She thrust back at me and my balls buried themselves further into her bulging arse cheeks as they hung over the edge of the kitchen surface.

I pulled back half an inch and then slid forward again. I retreated a full inch and then eased inwards. I gradually came back further and further along her fleshy tube before squelching up her again. I kept a steady pace as I did this but knew it couldn’t last. I pulled back until only the tip of me was in her. Her outer most vaginal muscle gripped the roughened ridge of my prick and we were almost suspended in time. I took a final look into her eyes and Mrs. Carter gave me the nod once more! This time it was to grant me the right to plough into her at my own speed, without concern for her, so that I might reach as mighty an orgasm as she herself had experienced. She would be just hanging onto me for the ride!

But I am not totally selfish and wanted to get her at least part of the way to orgasm again before my own lusts became the priority. That way she stood a good chance of joining me in mutual climax. I began to use a method that I had read about years before and that had stood me in good stead. I took little forward jabs into the hot mush of her slavering slit, probably only an inch or so entering her before being retracted again. I did this precisely six times and then, on the seventh thrust, I plunged as deeply into her snatch as I could get. She let out a sound that was a mixture of a groan and a squeal. I withdrew and then I gave her six more mini-thrusts at the entrance to her dripping cavern before once again sinking my whole length in to her writhing depths.

This method is supposed to mimic the pattern of seven waves hitting a beach or some such tantric style guff. Well, to be honest, it does get to be pretty difficult to keep a count going and also to be restrained enough to do that, but, if you can manage it for even a short while, the results can be pretty spectacular. I kept up the pattern for at least another ten rounds, I reckon, by which time Mrs. Carter was laid flat on her back her arms stretched wide on the worktop. Her plump old arse was hanging half over the edge of it, her ankles were on my shoulders with her knees spread wide, her breasts were sagging sideways towards each armpit and were swaying up and down with my rhythm whilst her head lolled from side to side. Sweat was running from me as I looked down between our bodies and saw how her fat hairy cunt lips bulged and shrunk with every thrust until the big, seventh thrust pulled her loose old quim meat right into her tunnel with my prick. As I retracted once more her inner lips flopped back out again, covered with our combined juices.
It was finally too much. I lost the ability to count and began to ram my prick into her cunt time and time again - just as hard and fast as I could go. I braced my hands beside her and pummelled into her writhing juice hole with my aching cock, shoving at her from the waist as we slapped harshly together and droplets of sweat flew from us. Then the almost painful twinge of constriction under my balls began, the feeling of a thick finger working its way up the centre of my dick, making the glans seem to swell and swell until, like the popping of a balloon filled with hot water, a fat squirt and gush of liquid heat burst from my body and filled the depths of her hole with scalding, spurting semen. I shot loads of spunk into her again and again as I fucked away at her, flooding her pulsing and dipping cervix as she too tipped over the edge and joined me in exhilarating climax, squeezing me mercilessly with her innermost muscles.

We groaned and cried out aloud with joy, making guttural formless noises as we worked our heated slick flesh against one another with a gradually lessening ferocity. Almost sobbing I felt the rigidity of my cock ease off a notch and my motions slow. The inward pushes became a more circular squelching together as my full erection died off and I strived to keep myself in that place of comfort and joy, until finally I ceased and Mrs. Carter and I stared with satisfied knowing at one another. We smiled. With a questioning raise of an eyebrow I silently asked permission to withdraw. She gave her nod of assent with a wry grin.

I gently pulled back and with a loud slurp my cock slid from her pussy. As I looked down I saw her opening slowly closing back up when a thick gout of frothy white cream slid from between her deeply red flaps, rolled across her twitching arse cheeks and then oozed down the kitchen cabinet door to the floor. She sighed sharply and raised herself to her elbows, her legs now dangling straight down. As she did so another blob of greyish white slime spat from her slit and followed the previous trail. She looked at me and said, “Well, I suppose that’s where I’ll have to start me cleaning… if I’ve still got a job that is!”

I laughed and assured her she was definitely employed. “Also,” I said, “I can’t keep calling you Mrs. Carter. What’s your name?” She sat bolt upright and slipped her feet to the floor, neatly avoiding the puddle of juice there.
“I’d prefer Mrs. Carter, if you don’t mind,“ she snapped, ”it don’t pay to get too familiar with your staff!”