The Sun Hat Conclusion
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The Sun Hat. Conclusion. free porn video
I recommend you read The Sun Hat before you read this conclusion to the story. (It's listed under 'Wife Lovers')
The climb up the private stairway was everything that Greg had hoped it would be. She led the way and he followed closely, two steps below, his face just inches from her jiggling buttocks which warmly smelled of the coconut suntan lotion she used.
Even though they had already shared a most intimate sexual experience, they had yet to touch in an intimate way. However, his hands could not resist echoing the movement of her ass as it swayed with each step, left and right, close to touching but not quite.
He didn’t even know her name yet, but he so badly wanted to squeeze her cheeks and run his finger along the white tan line on her skin that showed where her thong usually lay around her waist before disappearing down the crack of her ass and between her legs.
And then his foot missed a step and he staggered forward, his face crashing into her backside.
“Patience, you horny bastard!” she scolded as she laughed. “We’re almost there.”
Whether it was the expectation of the promised sexual encounter, or simply the exertion of the climb, but Greg was positively panting by the time they arrived at her house and made their way across the pier-supported balcony and went inside through the sliding door.
There, sitting in front of the TV in a La-Z-Boy chair, was a man in a pair of sloppy, checkered shorts. His outstretched legs seemed to cross half the room. He was enormous. He got up, and towering over Greg, extended his hand.
“I’m Murray. I understand you’ve met Cynthia already.”
“Yes. How do you do? I’m Greg. Nice to meet you.”
“OK, what did she tell you?” he roughly demanded.
“Ah, nothing,” said Greg, shrinking back from the man. He must have stood about 6 and a half feet tall. His torso was massively built and a thick rug of hair covered his arms and chest.
“Really?” he suggested sarcastically, “you came up here just to see me?”
Greg looked around desperately for Cynthia to help him out, but she had vanished.
“Come on, what did she tell you? She’s such a liar.”
“Nothing really. She thought I might enjoy the view from up here.”
“You too! You are both such liars!” Murray shouted at Greg. “You think I don’t use that thing?” he said, pointing towards a telescope that was mounted on a tripod out on the deck. It was trained steeply downwards.
“My wife, stark naked, and you with your eyeballs glued to her bare ass all the way up the staircase,” he roared. “And you have the nerve to say you were talking about the view from up here!”
Greg could see that Murray was getting red in the face and he wondered if he had the speed to make it through the door before this gorilla of a man caught him and snapped him in half.
“Murray! Behave yourself! Offer our guest a drink.”
It was Cynthia coming back into the living room just in time. She had put on a red negligee that was hard to ignore, and both men turned their attention towards her.
“Of course, dear. What’ll you have? A beer?”
Murray had calmed down instantly and was playing the perfect, obsequious host.
“I’ve got a Corona. Any good?”
“Thank you. That’d be great.”
“Sorry about his temper,” Cynthia whispered to Greg as her husband lumbered off to the kitchen. “Would you do me a little favor?” she went on.
“Of course,” whispered back Greg. “What is it?”
“Well, if he asks you to do something, just do it, OK? Then he won’t get angry.”
“What’s he going to --” Greg started to ask, but at that moment the big man came back into the room carrying three beers.
“Here, what’s your name? Greg? Cheers!”
“Cheers!” they all chimed in.
Murray turned towards his wife. “OK, now Cynthia, my daaaarling,” he stretched out the word sardonically, “how did you do it this time? What’d you tell him? He didn’t come up here to see the view.”
“Well, dear, I told him we might have a little fun,” she said innocently.
“And did you find out if he’s bi?” demanded Murray as Greg’s balls suddenly shrunk into his body at the thought of having sex with him.
“He didn’t act like it,” she responded.
“Or bi-curious?”
“No! But I think he might be very cooperative.”
Greg’s blood drained from his face at the thought of what he had let himself in for.
“OK, then let’s get on with it,” ordered Murray. “I know what’s going on. It’s an old story. She promised you a good fuck, and I like to watch because I’m im---.”
He stopped, unable to say the word.
“Impotent?” Cynthia offered.
“Do you have to say that word?” he growled. “All right, I’m that word. Now, what’s your name? Greg? Would you do me the favor...” He paused for a long moment, unable to continue with his request.
“Ask him nicely dear!” Cynthia volunteered. “Ask him to be your fluffer.”
“Why can’t you do it, you little slut?” he questioned, although he already knew the answer.
“You know why, dear. You’re a little bit too big for my little mouth. Go ahead. Just ask him. Be polite. I’m sure he’ll want to help.”
“Too big?” thought Greg. “She said he was smaller than me! Much smaller!”
“Greg, my man, maybe you’ve never been in this position, but I can tell you, it’s no fun watching your wife get fucked by a stranger unless you have a hard on.”
Greg was trying his best to follow the logic of this conversation. Why didn’t he fuck her himself if he could get a hard on?
It seemed as if Cynthia had read Greg’s mind when she said, “I’m sorry. I lied to you. He’s too big for me. I can’t take his cock at all. Look!”
She pointed at her husband. He was standing in the middle of the room with his shorts around his ankles. His shaft was enormous, reaching practically half way to his knees. It looked like an average man’s forearm and it’s circumcised head was about the size of a tangerine.
“Think you could make this stand up before you begin your dirty work with my wife?” he asked.
Greg looked towards Cynthia with a pleading look, but she was not much help.
“I won’t think you’re gay. Here, let me get you started,” she suggested and she moved forward, took Greg’s hand and placed it on her husband’s side of beef.
“Grab hold! Two hands. Kneel!”
Greg felt powerless to resist and he did as he was told. He felt it with both hands. It was soft and warm and very heavy.
Now Murray took over the commands. “Open wide! Suck it!” he demanded.
Greg opened his mouth wide and tried to obey, but even in its flaccid state he couldn’t get close to getting it into his mouth.
“Let me help you,” suggested Cynthia and she came up close, sat on the floor next to Greg and gently pushed back one side of her negligee showing him a nipple.
That seemed to work! Greg remembered why he was doing this and stretched his mouth wider. Cynthia slipped her silky gown off both shoulders and her shapely tits came into view.
“Good work, dear,” grunted Murray, starting to feel some of the sensation he needed, “but I think you’re going to have to show him your cunt before he gets it all in.”
His wife complied, lay on the floor below Greg and showed him what he’d seen on the beach before. But this time, her dark bush was divided by a pair of puffy, pink lips that glistened in the sunlight that angled in across the deck outside.
“Suck it! Use your tongue, man! Stroke it, grab it hard!”
The commands came fast and demanding and Greg redoubled his efforts, but it was a losing battle. The more he sucked and licked around the great head, the larger and firmer grew the whole thing. Finally, seeing Cynthia out of the corner of his eye stroking her pussy again, Greg became so sexually excited that he made a huge effort and the whole of the knob end popped into his mouth behind his lips.
“Aaagh, that’s better man. Cynthia, go ahead, give him his reward!”
With that, his wife sat up, reached for Greg’s belt, undid it and dropping his pants to the floor, exposed his stiffening cock.
“Hey, that’s not a bad sized pecker for a little fella,” remarked Murray. “Go ahead, dear, show him how it’s done.”
Cynthia wasted no time. Pursing her lips, she ran her tongue around them, moistening them.
“Greg, would you let me touch it?” she asked again coyly, not needing an answer.
With his mouth full, it was impossible for him to say anything; but he pushed his groin forward and was rewarded by the exquisite sensation of his cock entering a gorgeous woman’s hot and wet mouth. The two of them sucked and stroked harder and harder, grunts coming from all three of them. Eventually Greg couldn’t breathe and began to gag. He pulled away from Murray’s knob, grabbed his own tool and started pumping wildly while Cynthia sucked on his balls.
Moments later he came, spewing his cum onto the floor, onto Cynthia’s negligee and onto Murray’s foot.
“Oh, Jesus! Did you have to do that?” bellowed Murray as he stepped back and sank into his La-Z-Boy. “Here, c’mon, gimme a hand!”
Cynthia stopped working on her pussy and reluctantly got up and knelt beside her husband, and with two hands began stroking his semi stiff rod.
She looked up pleadingly to Greg. “Would you mind? I need a little help.”
Greg stood up warily, went over and wondered what he was supposed to do. Murray soon made it clear.
“Here, what’s your name, straddle my legs. Grab my tool - both hands man! It won’t bite. Pull! Harder! You’re a man - you know what to do.”
He turned to his wife. “You, stand here, spread your legs, I want to lick your pussy.”
They both complied, and even though he never achieved anything like an erection, it wasn’t long before Murray let out a yell and came in a flood all over his chair, his legs and Greg’s sandals.
...
After a quick clean up, the three of them sat out on the deck, drinks in hand, watching the sun set.
“Hey, not bad, Greg - is that your name? You did a pretty good job there, man.”
“Thanks.”
“But there’s no question about it, you’re definitely gay.”
“Murray!” chided his wife.
“Well, if you weren’t before, you are now,” he went on.
“Murray! Stop that! He’s not even bi-curious, are you Greg?”
“Not any longer,” replied Greg as he took his leave.
The climb up the private stairway was everything that Greg had hoped it would be. She led the way and he followed closely, two steps below, his face just inches from her jiggling buttocks which warmly smelled of the coconut suntan lotion she used.
Even though they had already shared a most intimate sexual experience, they had yet to touch in an intimate way. However, his hands could not resist echoing the movement of her ass as it swayed with each step, left and right, close to touching but not quite.
He didn’t even know her name yet, but he so badly wanted to squeeze her cheeks and run his finger along the white tan line on her skin that showed where her thong usually lay around her waist before disappearing down the crack of her ass and between her legs.
And then his foot missed a step and he staggered forward, his face crashing into her backside.
“Patience, you horny bastard!” she scolded as she laughed. “We’re almost there.”
Whether it was the expectation of the promised sexual encounter, or simply the exertion of the climb, but Greg was positively panting by the time they arrived at her house and made their way across the pier-supported balcony and went inside through the sliding door.
There, sitting in front of the TV in a La-Z-Boy chair, was a man in a pair of sloppy, checkered shorts. His outstretched legs seemed to cross half the room. He was enormous. He got up, and towering over Greg, extended his hand.
“I’m Murray. I understand you’ve met Cynthia already.”
“Yes. How do you do? I’m Greg. Nice to meet you.”
“OK, what did she tell you?” he roughly demanded.
“Ah, nothing,” said Greg, shrinking back from the man. He must have stood about 6 and a half feet tall. His torso was massively built and a thick rug of hair covered his arms and chest.
“Really?” he suggested sarcastically, “you came up here just to see me?”
Greg looked around desperately for Cynthia to help him out, but she had vanished.
“Come on, what did she tell you? She’s such a liar.”
“Nothing really. She thought I might enjoy the view from up here.”
“You too! You are both such liars!” Murray shouted at Greg. “You think I don’t use that thing?” he said, pointing towards a telescope that was mounted on a tripod out on the deck. It was trained steeply downwards.
“My wife, stark naked, and you with your eyeballs glued to her bare ass all the way up the staircase,” he roared. “And you have the nerve to say you were talking about the view from up here!”
Greg could see that Murray was getting red in the face and he wondered if he had the speed to make it through the door before this gorilla of a man caught him and snapped him in half.
“Murray! Behave yourself! Offer our guest a drink.”
It was Cynthia coming back into the living room just in time. She had put on a red negligee that was hard to ignore, and both men turned their attention towards her.
“Of course, dear. What’ll you have? A beer?”
Murray had calmed down instantly and was playing the perfect, obsequious host.
“I’ve got a Corona. Any good?”
“Thank you. That’d be great.”
“Sorry about his temper,” Cynthia whispered to Greg as her husband lumbered off to the kitchen. “Would you do me a little favor?” she went on.
“Of course,” whispered back Greg. “What is it?”
“Well, if he asks you to do something, just do it, OK? Then he won’t get angry.”
“What’s he going to --” Greg started to ask, but at that moment the big man came back into the room carrying three beers.
“Here, what’s your name? Greg? Cheers!”
“Cheers!” they all chimed in.
Murray turned towards his wife. “OK, now Cynthia, my daaaarling,” he stretched out the word sardonically, “how did you do it this time? What’d you tell him? He didn’t come up here to see the view.”
“Well, dear, I told him we might have a little fun,” she said innocently.
“And did you find out if he’s bi?” demanded Murray as Greg’s balls suddenly shrunk into his body at the thought of having sex with him.
“He didn’t act like it,” she responded.
“Or bi-curious?”
“No! But I think he might be very cooperative.”
Greg’s blood drained from his face at the thought of what he had let himself in for.
“OK, then let’s get on with it,” ordered Murray. “I know what’s going on. It’s an old story. She promised you a good fuck, and I like to watch because I’m im---.”
He stopped, unable to say the word.
“Impotent?” Cynthia offered.
“Do you have to say that word?” he growled. “All right, I’m that word. Now, what’s your name? Greg? Would you do me the favor...” He paused for a long moment, unable to continue with his request.
“Ask him nicely dear!” Cynthia volunteered. “Ask him to be your fluffer.”
“Why can’t you do it, you little slut?” he questioned, although he already knew the answer.
“You know why, dear. You’re a little bit too big for my little mouth. Go ahead. Just ask him. Be polite. I’m sure he’ll want to help.”
“Too big?” thought Greg. “She said he was smaller than me! Much smaller!”
“Greg, my man, maybe you’ve never been in this position, but I can tell you, it’s no fun watching your wife get fucked by a stranger unless you have a hard on.”
Greg was trying his best to follow the logic of this conversation. Why didn’t he fuck her himself if he could get a hard on?
It seemed as if Cynthia had read Greg’s mind when she said, “I’m sorry. I lied to you. He’s too big for me. I can’t take his cock at all. Look!”
She pointed at her husband. He was standing in the middle of the room with his shorts around his ankles. His shaft was enormous, reaching practically half way to his knees. It looked like an average man’s forearm and it’s circumcised head was about the size of a tangerine.
“Think you could make this stand up before you begin your dirty work with my wife?” he asked.
Greg looked towards Cynthia with a pleading look, but she was not much help.
“I won’t think you’re gay. Here, let me get you started,” she suggested and she moved forward, took Greg’s hand and placed it on her husband’s side of beef.
“Grab hold! Two hands. Kneel!”
Greg felt powerless to resist and he did as he was told. He felt it with both hands. It was soft and warm and very heavy.
Now Murray took over the commands. “Open wide! Suck it!” he demanded.
Greg opened his mouth wide and tried to obey, but even in its flaccid state he couldn’t get close to getting it into his mouth.
“Let me help you,” suggested Cynthia and she came up close, sat on the floor next to Greg and gently pushed back one side of her negligee showing him a nipple.
That seemed to work! Greg remembered why he was doing this and stretched his mouth wider. Cynthia slipped her silky gown off both shoulders and her shapely tits came into view.
“Good work, dear,” grunted Murray, starting to feel some of the sensation he needed, “but I think you’re going to have to show him your cunt before he gets it all in.”
His wife complied, lay on the floor below Greg and showed him what he’d seen on the beach before. But this time, her dark bush was divided by a pair of puffy, pink lips that glistened in the sunlight that angled in across the deck outside.
“Suck it! Use your tongue, man! Stroke it, grab it hard!”
The commands came fast and demanding and Greg redoubled his efforts, but it was a losing battle. The more he sucked and licked around the great head, the larger and firmer grew the whole thing. Finally, seeing Cynthia out of the corner of his eye stroking her pussy again, Greg became so sexually excited that he made a huge effort and the whole of the knob end popped into his mouth behind his lips.
“Aaagh, that’s better man. Cynthia, go ahead, give him his reward!”
With that, his wife sat up, reached for Greg’s belt, undid it and dropping his pants to the floor, exposed his stiffening cock.
“Hey, that’s not a bad sized pecker for a little fella,” remarked Murray. “Go ahead, dear, show him how it’s done.”
Cynthia wasted no time. Pursing her lips, she ran her tongue around them, moistening them.
“Greg, would you let me touch it?” she asked again coyly, not needing an answer.
With his mouth full, it was impossible for him to say anything; but he pushed his groin forward and was rewarded by the exquisite sensation of his cock entering a gorgeous woman’s hot and wet mouth. The two of them sucked and stroked harder and harder, grunts coming from all three of them. Eventually Greg couldn’t breathe and began to gag. He pulled away from Murray’s knob, grabbed his own tool and started pumping wildly while Cynthia sucked on his balls.
Moments later he came, spewing his cum onto the floor, onto Cynthia’s negligee and onto Murray’s foot.
“Oh, Jesus! Did you have to do that?” bellowed Murray as he stepped back and sank into his La-Z-Boy. “Here, c’mon, gimme a hand!”
Cynthia stopped working on her pussy and reluctantly got up and knelt beside her husband, and with two hands began stroking his semi stiff rod.
She looked up pleadingly to Greg. “Would you mind? I need a little help.”
Greg stood up warily, went over and wondered what he was supposed to do. Murray soon made it clear.
“Here, what’s your name, straddle my legs. Grab my tool - both hands man! It won’t bite. Pull! Harder! You’re a man - you know what to do.”
He turned to his wife. “You, stand here, spread your legs, I want to lick your pussy.”
They both complied, and even though he never achieved anything like an erection, it wasn’t long before Murray let out a yell and came in a flood all over his chair, his legs and Greg’s sandals.
...
After a quick clean up, the three of them sat out on the deck, drinks in hand, watching the sun set.
“Hey, not bad, Greg - is that your name? You did a pretty good job there, man.”
“Thanks.”
“But there’s no question about it, you’re definitely gay.”
“Murray!” chided his wife.
“Well, if you weren’t before, you are now,” he went on.
“Murray! Stop that! He’s not even bi-curious, are you Greg?”
“Not any longer,” replied Greg as he took his leave.
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- 24.03.2021
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