The Gardener
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77 Her Mother’s Gardener. free porn video
77 Her mother’s gardener.
I was just finishing my breakfast, sat mopping my plate of the last of the egg-yolk when my wife Margaret suggested that while we were out we ‘popped in’ to visit her mum.
Not one of my favourite occupations visiting and I spluttered a bit but knew if she wanted to ‘pop in’ then pop in pop in is what we would be doing, my life would be less happy if we didn’t, all husbands know that ‘a suggestion by the wife’ is actually a plan set in concrete in most regular marriage`s. They tell me that some wives are subservient ‘yes dear’ ladies, well mine [and millions of others out there if truth be told,] aint one of them.
True she can be soft and compliant at times, but it`s a con, a sham, a while, to gain or regain the upper hand, she knows it, I know it, but we never would acknowledge it, belive me folks I have been married long enough to know how to play this game. I`m no wimp, no ‘yes’ man, but I do know how to enjoy life and not being a housekeeper worth a dam, I know who butters my bread!
Anyway she knows that since her dad died over a year since, her mum gets lonely and we do apparently cheer the dear lady up whenever we visit, her mum is just 19 years older than my wife so that makes her 51.
She`s still fairly well kept, a fair body for her age group, though the tits going south a little now, a bit of a tum though not excessive, she dresses tidily, is a pillar of the woman`s institute, a good baker, keeps a neat home, and though nothing exceptional being no head turning stunner, she`s a good sort with no acid tongue or hard streak.
I do the odd jobs for her like most son in law`s and we rub along well enough.
Now me I do like my bit of the other, like most men I dream, fantasize call it what you will, since we wed though I have never strayed, I have thought about it, dreamed about it even, but either the opportunity has not presented itself, or on the few occasions it did, something happened and it just never quite....oh well that`s how life is and me and millions of others I am sure, just plod through life as a one woman man.
Strangely the wife knew I have these carnal thoughts, though the big word is trust and she always trusted me and still does.
Anyway, things were to change and for me for the better and with the good ladies blessing strange to say. We duly ‘”popped in” as she put it, after shopping, and to give them some time together alone (that`s a polite way of saying I was bored and knew it would be a long job) I set myself to pruning her late old chaps roses, they sat in the kitchen yakking as women do.
After an hour or so I duly returned to the little kitchen, and was rewarded by a mug of tea, and more suspiciously a slice of homemade cake, her prize winning fruit cake something I only get to taste on special occasions, it was usually the simpler Victoria sponge, alarm bells rang in my head.
They did not say anything out of the ordinary, but I sensed something was different though I dismissed it thinking I was being paranoid. Jean, that`s her mums name incidentally, asked if I would “run the mower round each week and look after the garden a bit, saying I had a green fingered touch and that she would pay me a little to keep it all tidy. That suited me and after a while off we went home.
Up till this point I had never thought sexually about Jean, and it was not in the forefront of my mind then until my loving and faithful wife, a wife of some 10 monogamous years suddenly and surprisingly asked if I fancied other women, I was driving at the time and the junction I was negotiating, fortunately gave me time to think of an appropriate if defensive response.
I decided honesty was the best policy and said that like all men I had thought about other women, but had remained faithful, why did she ask?
She seemed hesitant then said “we will talk about it later!” we were nearly home, and thinking she was perhaps wondering if I had strayed, I reassured her [guilty conscience perhaps, even though I hadn’t strayed I had just dreamed] nothing more was said till we sat in our kitchen having put away the shopping and made a brew of tea.
I knew there was something on her mind, you sense it after a year or two don’t you, and she hesitantly began to ask if I liked older women.
Bells ringing; entering a minefield, slow ahead both! Hesitantly I said “I did, you know that,”
Did I fantasise about older women?
Woops, careful “er yes, occasionally!”
“Would you sleep with an older woman?”
“I wouldn`t cheat on you, you already know that!”
[I thought a good answer! how wrong can you be!]
“That`s not what I asked” she said
This is where I got myself into the hotter water;
“Um, well, not behind your back sweetheart!”
“YOU ARE EVADING THE QUESTION!” She loudly exclaimed “WOULD YOU sleep WITH AN OLDER WOMAN?”
Clatter of bells, slow back both engines, and hit the alarm button.
“Look sweetheart what are you driving at, I`m a man, I have carnal thoughts it`s how I am, it`s just how were built, men, sure some women, well most really, turn us on, its nature, its reality, its life but I promise you I have never cheated, though I have had the odd fantasy, even the odd wank, but that`s it really, and yes some older women turn heads it`s the way things are.”
She looked a bit odd then said she trusted me, but would I find, say her old mum sexual?
Tread carefully here I thought, this could be fatal. I thought carefully and then I said “I had never thought of her sexually before, but she was still presentable and perhaps if the vibes were right and I was less married or free to do so, well yes...”
“How would it be if I asked you to at least flirt with her, even sleep with her, would you do it for me?”
I sat bolt upright spilling tea and near dropping my cup, Stop bloody engines, let`s heave too for a while!
“Er...I did hear you right did you say you wanted me to seduce and sleep with Jean... your mum!”
She nodded, “look” she said “mummy has lost her partner, she is still a sexual being, she`s frightened of predatory men, she thinks she`s past it, she`s suffering from low self esteem, she needs not only a boost but some regular no strings sex, you`re always pestering me for sex and I get more than I really want, something for her to live for.
I think I would like you to be it, not some prat off the street, or some fool after her money, or risking an STD, this way I just feel it is the best for all of us.”
To say I was gobsmacked is the understatement of the year. The idea was all my numb brain could gasp,” “Have you said anything to her?” I asked before I lapsed into what is known as a pregnant silence.
She shook her head, and then said, “Look, to be honest you get more sex, and I get some too as it turns me on to think of you together, if you do it, I want you to relate all the details so I can be part of it all, that way I don’t feel you are cheating!”
I promised to think about it then wandered out to my haven, my place of safety, my tool shed, to contemplate long and hard what she had said.
Two long days past, not a word on the subject spoken, I am a ponderer, some would say a plodder, others slow, so till I had my mind gets things straight she knew not to push. I was due on Saturday morning to start on Jeans garden, so it was Friday night when we sat in bed at the end of a long day and talked.
I asked if the idea of me seducing her mother was real or just her fantasy. She said she had thought about nothing else, and yes she could only see advantages as long as I did not become infatuated and leave her for her mum she would be more than happy to share me.
I said I would see how things went on the Saturday and on the strength of that my loving wife Margaret; leapt on me and screwed me for a whole hour. My thoughts where if this is the benefits, I am up for the game!
Saturday came, and it was a tired husband that wobbled off to his mother-in-laws garden, she had given me a shed key so an hour saw the mowing done, and me sitting over a mug looking at my late breakfasting mother in law, reassessing her body under the dressing gown.
I complimented her on her shape, saying for her age she was still tidy and attractive. Her reaction was to wrap the gown tighter and mutter something about me being a son in law and that she was an old woman.
She finished the food then stood to wash her plate, the gown naturally falling open and her hands being full I was treated to a view of her nightdress as she turned. Again I complimented her on her shape, as with a crash the plates slid into the sink, a fleeting smile ran over her face, she called me “a randy young pup,” which at 34 I felt was a great compliment. She made no attempt I noticed to re-secure her gown as she then said that “I was a married man and though she was flattered she thought her daughter would be less than happy if she found her flirting with her husband!”
I had not dreamed she might be a bit resistant, it just had not crossed my mind, me, Adonis every woman`s dream, yeh some chance and it brought me back to reality with a bump. Why would she be interested, in a tall it is true, but an out of work gardener, but getting a paunch, out of condition, average dick, 34 year old no hoper.
I blushed; I could hardly tell her it was her beloved daughter`s idea could I.
I slunk away and began weeding the rockery.
At one Jean called me in to sandwiches’; she was dressed now, dark skirt, and her bright red bra showing pinkly through the thin white shirt.
I feasted my eyes on that well filled bra, as I took my first bite, I had never really noticed her sexual attributes before and yes I was beginning to get the idea that my wife could be right, her mum was still a good looking, and a sensual woman and I would be a fool to miss out.
I complimented her on her looks once again and that fetched the comment that I was to “go on with you, I`m getting old, I`m not that attractive and though I do thank you for the compliment it will get you nothing here, your my daughter`s!”
I assured her it was not a loose compliment, she was a handsome woman that I thought had a fine mature figure, and if I wasn’t married I would have swept her off her feet long since. At that she blushed to her roots then silently busied herself with her sandwich
Nothing more was said I not wishing to over egg the pudding! At three I plodded off home, reporting what had happened to the good lady. She quietly saying that she would “have to have a word”
Unbeknown to me she visited her mother on the Wednesday afternoon after she finished work (she does part time in the butchers shop Wednesdays and Thursdays) I never found out what was said but she was very late home.
I was due at Jean`s again on the Thursday and as before I started early, she calling me in for breakfast at nine. Again in her dressing gown securely fastened this time.
She had a sparkle in her eye as she served to us both, bacon and egg, saying she was going shopping and she would be back at dinnertime, she would fetch fish and chips with her but would be a bit later than usual, and she would leave the door open so I could use the toilet if I needed it.
The meal over off she went and I began on shovelling newly delivered horse shit round the roses.
About one I needed a pee so I went in boots off at the door and I tip-toed to the toilet, the silent house gave me the impression that I was somehow invading the ladies privacy. Beside the sink after the toilet my eye caught the laundry basket and like a small boy peeking at his mum`s clothes, I just had to lift that lid, there on the top was the skirt and peeping out from under it was her red bra, the one I had seen through her white shirt.
I couldn’t resist her clothes, her smell would be there, I fetched the item to my nose and inhaled her perfume, ooh fantastic, where`s the label, 40dd, knickers, there must be knickers, dig down, a matching pair, red raunchy, sniff the crutch, fantastic, her unique smell, erotic, personal, womanly.
I was just about to take myself in hand like a small boy, when Dinner arrived home I heard her open the kitchen door, in a panic I thrust the clothes into the basket, then flushed the toilet as a cover.
“Hi John, dinner!” she said and I re-washed my hands, always a good idea after handling that rose food. We sat to a fine feed of cod and chips.
The meal over I made tea and she went to the toilet. When she returned she gave me a withering look, then took her tea sipping it and smiling at me in a most unsettling way. Quietly she said “and is your curiosity satisfied now young man?”
I blustered a bit professing I didn’t understand the question, dreading what I suspected was coming, she went on that “she had set a trap for me” laying things in the laundry basket in a certain order, and that wasn’t the order they are now in so she asked again was my curiosity satisfied now?”
Very red of face I confessed that “I had wanted to know how big those magnificent breasts of hers were”, to which she replied oh and the knickers helped with that, how?
We burst out laughing, me in embarrassment, and she at my blushes. “Look let`s be honest with each other shall we, my daughter came yesterday and we had a long, long chat.” My jaw fell open.
She went on, “it seems she feels I am missing out and that I should take anything on offer, she even offered me your services, do you belive!”
By now I had become hopeful; she went on to say “can you imagine it, you and me. “ My roller coaster of dreams descended like a stone in a pond.
“As if you would want to bed an old hen like me” upwards we shot again as I gushingly assured her that that was just what I did want to do. It was then I realised she was gently taking the proverbial and the dammed woman had got me blushing again.
She said “Look, I really do miss my husband and especially the physical side of life, so how much of your compliments were because you just wanted to bed me and how much was it to appease my daughter?”
I replied that “in truth it started as appeasing Margaret” as before that, though I had thought her attractive I had suppressed all sexual feelings towards her, believing she would not have even entertained the idea and not wishing to cause friction with her daughter, or of course bending my vows. I finished my speech with “But to be honest the idea has now become a fantasy of mine, a fetish, especially as your daughter knows all about it!”
She regarded me steadily for a few moment`s then reached for the phone, I sat silently as she dialled the number, my wife answered, they exchanged the usual pleasantries, then Jean said “your husband is sat here, I am going to send him home in a moment.” My heart sank.
“He`s in his work clothes and has been shovelling rose manure, thanks for the offer of his services, You`re sure you don’t mind?” Thanks love I do appreciate the offer, ok, you just clean him up make him smell better then send him round at six and I shall cook my date a steak... do you want him home tonight? Ok I will...
I didn’t wait to hear the rest, boots on, tools away, I was off home.
Part 2 the date
It was 5.55pm,that summer evening when I rang the bell, Margaret had kissed me goodbye with her best wishes, I was suited and booted, a bunch of the finest freesias from my greenhouse clutched in one hot and sticky and a bottle of plonk in the other.
The door opened and there stood my date, hair nice, make up lovely, not plastered, tastefully just enough, dark brown pencil skirt, cream blouse, black bra, heals and sheer dark nylons. Not over the top but perfect for a date.
I stepped inside before I kissed her, no need to stir up the neighbours, and not the son in law mother in law kiss of the past either, as her hot lips crushed mine, tongues touched, seconds past.
She led me into the kitchen, table pulled out, laid like a restaurant, candles lit though it was broad daylight, venetian blinds just closed enough to reduce the glare of the setting sun and ensuring total privacy.
We sat like young lovers; the steak was superb, the veg perfect, the wine chilled to perfection, the desert just wonderful. Coffee we took through to the sitting room, and her huge sofa. The telly quietly reported the news in the background. We sat holding hands, both full of steak and baked Alaska, knowing why we were here, but both just wanting to bask in the moment. We kissed, Oh how we kissed. Through our clothes, not one button had been undone, not a stocking lowered, not a sock removed. My hands explored her boobs, her fingers played with my tool, but mostly we both just cuddled, softly, slowly, gently, each mutually accepting the fact that we were soon going to bed together with the full consent of Margaret, her daughter and my loving wife.
We even dozed; the togetherness just now enough, time went on, the hours passed, un-noticed by us, wrapped in this cocoon of good feelings.
Finally she stood, switched out the unwatched television, and took my hand. She led me to her bedroom, faced me and then removed my clothes.
I soon stood naked, not the fine figure of Tarzan, but an honest to goodness naked gardener, rampant at this wonderful woman`s touch my six inches proud and hot mentally I believed I had a stand like a baby`s arm.
She whispered that she was ready, and stood as I removed her clothes, skirt, blouse, stockings; all fell fluttering around her in soft heaps, the black of her lacy bra and panties, contrasting now against her alabaster white skin.
I kissed her again, she nodded, she was ready for this final revelation as my arms slid round her body to ease the bra and slide it from her shoulders.
Suddenly they were mine, those 40dd`s soft, heavy, magnificent and free. Her nipples were now erectly standing out from the dark areolas, stiff with excitement, eager for my lips. I leant forward, the touch of my tongue on the rubbery teat, electric, and we both felt it.
Her hands on my head now fingers gripping my hair, clasping me to her bust, the whole teat lay on my rigidly on my tongue, my teeth nipped at the areola as a distraction as my hands slid down her panties. Her soft rumps exposed and like putty in my clawing fingers, her moaning, loud, and erotic.
We fell back onto her bed, the nipple jolts from my mouth, I move down, my tongue working on her navel, down, down, hair, wetness, that perfect womanly smell, taste, fleeting memories of the knickers I smelt at dinnertime, was that only half a day back, wet cheeks as my tongue delves deep into her wet cleft.
She jumps as I find her clit, her hands once again pushing my face into her open body; my mouth fills with her juice as she floods like a fountain and she cums massively for the first time for a year.
Her hands are urging me on, nose and mouth buried I need air, my beard wet now with her spend, I haul my head from its wonderful soft mask and gasp for the life giving oxygen. I wriggle forward, my tool slipping into her wet receptive slot like a worm into its home.
I am embedded, my balls wet with her copious fluids as they slap at her fraenum, and she is slippery soft all enveloping her body gripping my tool in a velvet grip. Her muscles rippling on my shaft as only a mature and experienced woman can.
Together we begin to move, as if by some mental link we begin together that age old dance, hips slapping together, sloppy noises emanate from our coupling. We don’t care a fig if the world knows at this moment, as my tool hammer`s into her body, hard, brutal, trying to get my purple mushroom ever deeper into her, regardless of her feelings, her pain even. Grunts, moans from us both, even screams, as together we achieved that wonder of wonders, a mutual climax, I felt my balls contract, seed spurting into her wet prison, 4, 5, spurts or more.
I am finally empty, she lay`s like a limp wet rag, we slip apart, slime dribbling from her now open sex wetting the bed-spread, unnoticed her arms laying limply beside her, her breath gasping, deep, a smile flitting across her face. We soon slept.
Dawn breaking birds tweeting, I slowly returned to this world. Jean still lay as I left her. I slipped from her bed, quietly dressed and silently drove home.
My arrival eagerly awaited by Margaret, who silently watched me undress, hang my suit up and fall into our marital bed. I needed sleep. She wanted chapter and verse, I tried to explain what had happened, she became excited, and I knew I should realy perform yet again. The spirit was willing but the flesh, drained of energy by my wife`s mother. Regardless of my wonderful wife`s needs I slipped away into the land of nod.
I was just finishing my breakfast, sat mopping my plate of the last of the egg-yolk when my wife Margaret suggested that while we were out we ‘popped in’ to visit her mum.
Not one of my favourite occupations visiting and I spluttered a bit but knew if she wanted to ‘pop in’ then pop in pop in is what we would be doing, my life would be less happy if we didn’t, all husbands know that ‘a suggestion by the wife’ is actually a plan set in concrete in most regular marriage`s. They tell me that some wives are subservient ‘yes dear’ ladies, well mine [and millions of others out there if truth be told,] aint one of them.
True she can be soft and compliant at times, but it`s a con, a sham, a while, to gain or regain the upper hand, she knows it, I know it, but we never would acknowledge it, belive me folks I have been married long enough to know how to play this game. I`m no wimp, no ‘yes’ man, but I do know how to enjoy life and not being a housekeeper worth a dam, I know who butters my bread!
Anyway she knows that since her dad died over a year since, her mum gets lonely and we do apparently cheer the dear lady up whenever we visit, her mum is just 19 years older than my wife so that makes her 51.
She`s still fairly well kept, a fair body for her age group, though the tits going south a little now, a bit of a tum though not excessive, she dresses tidily, is a pillar of the woman`s institute, a good baker, keeps a neat home, and though nothing exceptional being no head turning stunner, she`s a good sort with no acid tongue or hard streak.
I do the odd jobs for her like most son in law`s and we rub along well enough.
Now me I do like my bit of the other, like most men I dream, fantasize call it what you will, since we wed though I have never strayed, I have thought about it, dreamed about it even, but either the opportunity has not presented itself, or on the few occasions it did, something happened and it just never quite....oh well that`s how life is and me and millions of others I am sure, just plod through life as a one woman man.
Strangely the wife knew I have these carnal thoughts, though the big word is trust and she always trusted me and still does.
Anyway, things were to change and for me for the better and with the good ladies blessing strange to say. We duly ‘”popped in” as she put it, after shopping, and to give them some time together alone (that`s a polite way of saying I was bored and knew it would be a long job) I set myself to pruning her late old chaps roses, they sat in the kitchen yakking as women do.
After an hour or so I duly returned to the little kitchen, and was rewarded by a mug of tea, and more suspiciously a slice of homemade cake, her prize winning fruit cake something I only get to taste on special occasions, it was usually the simpler Victoria sponge, alarm bells rang in my head.
They did not say anything out of the ordinary, but I sensed something was different though I dismissed it thinking I was being paranoid. Jean, that`s her mums name incidentally, asked if I would “run the mower round each week and look after the garden a bit, saying I had a green fingered touch and that she would pay me a little to keep it all tidy. That suited me and after a while off we went home.
Up till this point I had never thought sexually about Jean, and it was not in the forefront of my mind then until my loving and faithful wife, a wife of some 10 monogamous years suddenly and surprisingly asked if I fancied other women, I was driving at the time and the junction I was negotiating, fortunately gave me time to think of an appropriate if defensive response.
I decided honesty was the best policy and said that like all men I had thought about other women, but had remained faithful, why did she ask?
She seemed hesitant then said “we will talk about it later!” we were nearly home, and thinking she was perhaps wondering if I had strayed, I reassured her [guilty conscience perhaps, even though I hadn’t strayed I had just dreamed] nothing more was said till we sat in our kitchen having put away the shopping and made a brew of tea.
I knew there was something on her mind, you sense it after a year or two don’t you, and she hesitantly began to ask if I liked older women.
Bells ringing; entering a minefield, slow ahead both! Hesitantly I said “I did, you know that,”
Did I fantasise about older women?
Woops, careful “er yes, occasionally!”
“Would you sleep with an older woman?”
“I wouldn`t cheat on you, you already know that!”
[I thought a good answer! how wrong can you be!]
“That`s not what I asked” she said
This is where I got myself into the hotter water;
“Um, well, not behind your back sweetheart!”
“YOU ARE EVADING THE QUESTION!” She loudly exclaimed “WOULD YOU sleep WITH AN OLDER WOMAN?”
Clatter of bells, slow back both engines, and hit the alarm button.
“Look sweetheart what are you driving at, I`m a man, I have carnal thoughts it`s how I am, it`s just how were built, men, sure some women, well most really, turn us on, its nature, its reality, its life but I promise you I have never cheated, though I have had the odd fantasy, even the odd wank, but that`s it really, and yes some older women turn heads it`s the way things are.”
She looked a bit odd then said she trusted me, but would I find, say her old mum sexual?
Tread carefully here I thought, this could be fatal. I thought carefully and then I said “I had never thought of her sexually before, but she was still presentable and perhaps if the vibes were right and I was less married or free to do so, well yes...”
“How would it be if I asked you to at least flirt with her, even sleep with her, would you do it for me?”
I sat bolt upright spilling tea and near dropping my cup, Stop bloody engines, let`s heave too for a while!
“Er...I did hear you right did you say you wanted me to seduce and sleep with Jean... your mum!”
She nodded, “look” she said “mummy has lost her partner, she is still a sexual being, she`s frightened of predatory men, she thinks she`s past it, she`s suffering from low self esteem, she needs not only a boost but some regular no strings sex, you`re always pestering me for sex and I get more than I really want, something for her to live for.
I think I would like you to be it, not some prat off the street, or some fool after her money, or risking an STD, this way I just feel it is the best for all of us.”
To say I was gobsmacked is the understatement of the year. The idea was all my numb brain could gasp,” “Have you said anything to her?” I asked before I lapsed into what is known as a pregnant silence.
She shook her head, and then said, “Look, to be honest you get more sex, and I get some too as it turns me on to think of you together, if you do it, I want you to relate all the details so I can be part of it all, that way I don’t feel you are cheating!”
I promised to think about it then wandered out to my haven, my place of safety, my tool shed, to contemplate long and hard what she had said.
Two long days past, not a word on the subject spoken, I am a ponderer, some would say a plodder, others slow, so till I had my mind gets things straight she knew not to push. I was due on Saturday morning to start on Jeans garden, so it was Friday night when we sat in bed at the end of a long day and talked.
I asked if the idea of me seducing her mother was real or just her fantasy. She said she had thought about nothing else, and yes she could only see advantages as long as I did not become infatuated and leave her for her mum she would be more than happy to share me.
I said I would see how things went on the Saturday and on the strength of that my loving wife Margaret; leapt on me and screwed me for a whole hour. My thoughts where if this is the benefits, I am up for the game!
Saturday came, and it was a tired husband that wobbled off to his mother-in-laws garden, she had given me a shed key so an hour saw the mowing done, and me sitting over a mug looking at my late breakfasting mother in law, reassessing her body under the dressing gown.
I complimented her on her shape, saying for her age she was still tidy and attractive. Her reaction was to wrap the gown tighter and mutter something about me being a son in law and that she was an old woman.
She finished the food then stood to wash her plate, the gown naturally falling open and her hands being full I was treated to a view of her nightdress as she turned. Again I complimented her on her shape, as with a crash the plates slid into the sink, a fleeting smile ran over her face, she called me “a randy young pup,” which at 34 I felt was a great compliment. She made no attempt I noticed to re-secure her gown as she then said that “I was a married man and though she was flattered she thought her daughter would be less than happy if she found her flirting with her husband!”
I had not dreamed she might be a bit resistant, it just had not crossed my mind, me, Adonis every woman`s dream, yeh some chance and it brought me back to reality with a bump. Why would she be interested, in a tall it is true, but an out of work gardener, but getting a paunch, out of condition, average dick, 34 year old no hoper.
I blushed; I could hardly tell her it was her beloved daughter`s idea could I.
I slunk away and began weeding the rockery.
At one Jean called me in to sandwiches’; she was dressed now, dark skirt, and her bright red bra showing pinkly through the thin white shirt.
I feasted my eyes on that well filled bra, as I took my first bite, I had never really noticed her sexual attributes before and yes I was beginning to get the idea that my wife could be right, her mum was still a good looking, and a sensual woman and I would be a fool to miss out.
I complimented her on her looks once again and that fetched the comment that I was to “go on with you, I`m getting old, I`m not that attractive and though I do thank you for the compliment it will get you nothing here, your my daughter`s!”
I assured her it was not a loose compliment, she was a handsome woman that I thought had a fine mature figure, and if I wasn’t married I would have swept her off her feet long since. At that she blushed to her roots then silently busied herself with her sandwich
Nothing more was said I not wishing to over egg the pudding! At three I plodded off home, reporting what had happened to the good lady. She quietly saying that she would “have to have a word”
Unbeknown to me she visited her mother on the Wednesday afternoon after she finished work (she does part time in the butchers shop Wednesdays and Thursdays) I never found out what was said but she was very late home.
I was due at Jean`s again on the Thursday and as before I started early, she calling me in for breakfast at nine. Again in her dressing gown securely fastened this time.
She had a sparkle in her eye as she served to us both, bacon and egg, saying she was going shopping and she would be back at dinnertime, she would fetch fish and chips with her but would be a bit later than usual, and she would leave the door open so I could use the toilet if I needed it.
The meal over off she went and I began on shovelling newly delivered horse shit round the roses.
About one I needed a pee so I went in boots off at the door and I tip-toed to the toilet, the silent house gave me the impression that I was somehow invading the ladies privacy. Beside the sink after the toilet my eye caught the laundry basket and like a small boy peeking at his mum`s clothes, I just had to lift that lid, there on the top was the skirt and peeping out from under it was her red bra, the one I had seen through her white shirt.
I couldn’t resist her clothes, her smell would be there, I fetched the item to my nose and inhaled her perfume, ooh fantastic, where`s the label, 40dd, knickers, there must be knickers, dig down, a matching pair, red raunchy, sniff the crutch, fantastic, her unique smell, erotic, personal, womanly.
I was just about to take myself in hand like a small boy, when Dinner arrived home I heard her open the kitchen door, in a panic I thrust the clothes into the basket, then flushed the toilet as a cover.
“Hi John, dinner!” she said and I re-washed my hands, always a good idea after handling that rose food. We sat to a fine feed of cod and chips.
The meal over I made tea and she went to the toilet. When she returned she gave me a withering look, then took her tea sipping it and smiling at me in a most unsettling way. Quietly she said “and is your curiosity satisfied now young man?”
I blustered a bit professing I didn’t understand the question, dreading what I suspected was coming, she went on that “she had set a trap for me” laying things in the laundry basket in a certain order, and that wasn’t the order they are now in so she asked again was my curiosity satisfied now?”
Very red of face I confessed that “I had wanted to know how big those magnificent breasts of hers were”, to which she replied oh and the knickers helped with that, how?
We burst out laughing, me in embarrassment, and she at my blushes. “Look let`s be honest with each other shall we, my daughter came yesterday and we had a long, long chat.” My jaw fell open.
She went on, “it seems she feels I am missing out and that I should take anything on offer, she even offered me your services, do you belive!”
By now I had become hopeful; she went on to say “can you imagine it, you and me. “ My roller coaster of dreams descended like a stone in a pond.
“As if you would want to bed an old hen like me” upwards we shot again as I gushingly assured her that that was just what I did want to do. It was then I realised she was gently taking the proverbial and the dammed woman had got me blushing again.
She said “Look, I really do miss my husband and especially the physical side of life, so how much of your compliments were because you just wanted to bed me and how much was it to appease my daughter?”
I replied that “in truth it started as appeasing Margaret” as before that, though I had thought her attractive I had suppressed all sexual feelings towards her, believing she would not have even entertained the idea and not wishing to cause friction with her daughter, or of course bending my vows. I finished my speech with “But to be honest the idea has now become a fantasy of mine, a fetish, especially as your daughter knows all about it!”
She regarded me steadily for a few moment`s then reached for the phone, I sat silently as she dialled the number, my wife answered, they exchanged the usual pleasantries, then Jean said “your husband is sat here, I am going to send him home in a moment.” My heart sank.
“He`s in his work clothes and has been shovelling rose manure, thanks for the offer of his services, You`re sure you don’t mind?” Thanks love I do appreciate the offer, ok, you just clean him up make him smell better then send him round at six and I shall cook my date a steak... do you want him home tonight? Ok I will...
I didn’t wait to hear the rest, boots on, tools away, I was off home.
Part 2 the date
It was 5.55pm,that summer evening when I rang the bell, Margaret had kissed me goodbye with her best wishes, I was suited and booted, a bunch of the finest freesias from my greenhouse clutched in one hot and sticky and a bottle of plonk in the other.
The door opened and there stood my date, hair nice, make up lovely, not plastered, tastefully just enough, dark brown pencil skirt, cream blouse, black bra, heals and sheer dark nylons. Not over the top but perfect for a date.
I stepped inside before I kissed her, no need to stir up the neighbours, and not the son in law mother in law kiss of the past either, as her hot lips crushed mine, tongues touched, seconds past.
She led me into the kitchen, table pulled out, laid like a restaurant, candles lit though it was broad daylight, venetian blinds just closed enough to reduce the glare of the setting sun and ensuring total privacy.
We sat like young lovers; the steak was superb, the veg perfect, the wine chilled to perfection, the desert just wonderful. Coffee we took through to the sitting room, and her huge sofa. The telly quietly reported the news in the background. We sat holding hands, both full of steak and baked Alaska, knowing why we were here, but both just wanting to bask in the moment. We kissed, Oh how we kissed. Through our clothes, not one button had been undone, not a stocking lowered, not a sock removed. My hands explored her boobs, her fingers played with my tool, but mostly we both just cuddled, softly, slowly, gently, each mutually accepting the fact that we were soon going to bed together with the full consent of Margaret, her daughter and my loving wife.
We even dozed; the togetherness just now enough, time went on, the hours passed, un-noticed by us, wrapped in this cocoon of good feelings.
Finally she stood, switched out the unwatched television, and took my hand. She led me to her bedroom, faced me and then removed my clothes.
I soon stood naked, not the fine figure of Tarzan, but an honest to goodness naked gardener, rampant at this wonderful woman`s touch my six inches proud and hot mentally I believed I had a stand like a baby`s arm.
She whispered that she was ready, and stood as I removed her clothes, skirt, blouse, stockings; all fell fluttering around her in soft heaps, the black of her lacy bra and panties, contrasting now against her alabaster white skin.
I kissed her again, she nodded, she was ready for this final revelation as my arms slid round her body to ease the bra and slide it from her shoulders.
Suddenly they were mine, those 40dd`s soft, heavy, magnificent and free. Her nipples were now erectly standing out from the dark areolas, stiff with excitement, eager for my lips. I leant forward, the touch of my tongue on the rubbery teat, electric, and we both felt it.
Her hands on my head now fingers gripping my hair, clasping me to her bust, the whole teat lay on my rigidly on my tongue, my teeth nipped at the areola as a distraction as my hands slid down her panties. Her soft rumps exposed and like putty in my clawing fingers, her moaning, loud, and erotic.
We fell back onto her bed, the nipple jolts from my mouth, I move down, my tongue working on her navel, down, down, hair, wetness, that perfect womanly smell, taste, fleeting memories of the knickers I smelt at dinnertime, was that only half a day back, wet cheeks as my tongue delves deep into her wet cleft.
She jumps as I find her clit, her hands once again pushing my face into her open body; my mouth fills with her juice as she floods like a fountain and she cums massively for the first time for a year.
Her hands are urging me on, nose and mouth buried I need air, my beard wet now with her spend, I haul my head from its wonderful soft mask and gasp for the life giving oxygen. I wriggle forward, my tool slipping into her wet receptive slot like a worm into its home.
I am embedded, my balls wet with her copious fluids as they slap at her fraenum, and she is slippery soft all enveloping her body gripping my tool in a velvet grip. Her muscles rippling on my shaft as only a mature and experienced woman can.
Together we begin to move, as if by some mental link we begin together that age old dance, hips slapping together, sloppy noises emanate from our coupling. We don’t care a fig if the world knows at this moment, as my tool hammer`s into her body, hard, brutal, trying to get my purple mushroom ever deeper into her, regardless of her feelings, her pain even. Grunts, moans from us both, even screams, as together we achieved that wonder of wonders, a mutual climax, I felt my balls contract, seed spurting into her wet prison, 4, 5, spurts or more.
I am finally empty, she lay`s like a limp wet rag, we slip apart, slime dribbling from her now open sex wetting the bed-spread, unnoticed her arms laying limply beside her, her breath gasping, deep, a smile flitting across her face. We soon slept.
Dawn breaking birds tweeting, I slowly returned to this world. Jean still lay as I left her. I slipped from her bed, quietly dressed and silently drove home.
My arrival eagerly awaited by Margaret, who silently watched me undress, hang my suit up and fall into our marital bed. I needed sleep. She wanted chapter and verse, I tried to explain what had happened, she became excited, and I knew I should realy perform yet again. The spirit was willing but the flesh, drained of energy by my wife`s mother. Regardless of my wonderful wife`s needs I slipped away into the land of nod.
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