FiremenPart 2 Firehouse Barbeque
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Playing With Fire (Three) free porn video
You Want To Have Sex With Other Women - 28/03/20
She wakes in my arms. Holding her is magical. We fit together like two parts of a puzzle. There is no more heavenly place to be than laid here, with Sarah, with the warm morning sunlight streaming through the crack in the bedroom curtains. Locked together with her like this. Even first thing in the morning she’s beautiful. She doesn’t need make up. She never wears it. She looks so much younger than her 41 years. She blinks drowsily. I gaze into her saphire blue eyes and run my fingers through her blonde hair as it shimmers in the morning sunlight. Suddenly she pulls away saying: ‘Get off me you!’ She looks upset.
‘What?’
‘You said you want to have sex with other women!’
‘What the fuck?’ My heart is in my mouth. I’ve no idea what she is talking about. She’s clearly upset. She turns away from me. Still in my arms but now facing away from me.
‘You made me cry.’
‘When was thi… Ah... you’ve had a dream.’ I literally sigh with relief.
‘I asked you if you wanted to have sex with other women and you said yes!’
‘That’s just a bad dream honey. Even if I did want to have sex with other people. Which I don’t! I wouldn’t. Because I know that it would upset you. I love you. I’m totally committed to you. You own me. I belong to you. I like it that way. I love it.’
‘Yes well… I haven’t forgiven you yet.’
‘You can’t hold what I do in a dream against me. How about if I do that to you?’
She smiles, turns back to face me again, and kisses me saying. ‘I really don’t want to know what I do in your dreams.’
They’ll All Be Gagging For It – 10/04/20
She wakes in my arms. She rests her head upon the right of my chest and tenderly stokes my left pectoral. Running her fingers gently over my nipple. I love waking with her. It’s literally better than sex. She talks about lock down and how lucky we are to have a beautiful garden and an area of outstanding beauty at the end of the road whilst some are trapped in city flats. Then she says ‘Think how lucky you are having me to have sex with.’
‘Big yourself up why don’t you.’ I reply. I gaze into her eyes and smile as she looks coyly up at me. ‘I always count myself lucky to have you. In every respect. Not just sex. Everything about our life is literally living the dream. But the only thing in it that matters to me is you. Anywhere is paradise with you in it.’
‘I didn’t mean lucky to have sex with me specifically...’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Think about it. Think how many single guys there must be locked down.’ She directs her gaze back to my nipple that she is gently stroking. ‘What do you think they’re doing?’
‘Er… Wanking?’
She laughs. ‘Exactly! They’re not having sex. You are lucky that you have someone to have sex with. When they lift lock down think how many guys there will be who haven’t had sex for months. They’ll all be gagging for it!’
We both fall silent for a while. I’m a little gobsmacked. This feels like progress. I feel that I ought to grasp the opportunity and push this a bit. But I’m clumsy. ‘Well... maybe you should get out there and find one then. Imagine the fun you could have.’ Immediately I know that I’ve pushed it too far. She flips over and faces away from me. She’s not talking. ‘Hey… come on… what’s up?’
‘Why do you have to be so horrible? I can’t believe that you would say that!’
‘What?.. It wasn’t horrible. It was a nice thing to say.’
‘Nice. What the fuck! How is that nice? Basically you asked me: Honey go out and cheat on me please! How can you think that’s nice?’
I’m a bit shocked. I have to resist the temptation to point out that I never actually asked her to do anything. I don’t want to argue though. That will just make this worse. So I wait a few minutes and then I begin to tell her about a dream I’ve had. Nothing risque. Just a funny dream. She lightens up and she’s laughing and joking with me. Happy again. I must remember to keep what I say subtle. It has to be all implied and hinted at. Like in those romance novels.
We spend the day at the lake with the k**s. There’s nobody else around. It’s like our own private paradise. The sunshine, the shimmering water, the laughter of the c***dren. Sarah’s packed a picnic. She’s a fantastic cook. Proper healthy food that actually tastes amazing. Sitting there eating lunch with the k**s she’s like the picture of a perfect mother from a magazine. It occurs to me that I really am living the dream. Here, in the mountains, with this woman, this family, this lifestyle. And I really am incredibly lucky because this is her idea of paradise. This is her perfect day. Just me, her, and the k**s, splashing and swimming and chilling out. Right here. She doesn’t want riches. She doesn’t want fame. She doesn’t want a big house or car. She doesn’t want expensive clothes, restaurants, theater trips, foreign holidays... None of it. Just us. Here. God I love her.
In the evening for some reason she just wants to be fucked. No foreplay. Just straight in. She wants me on top of her. I fuck her hard, missionary. I try to position myself differently than I ever have before. To fuck her differently. Like as if I’m not me. Harder, faster, ravenously. Like I’ve been starved of it. She cums loud and long. As ever I try to keep her going for as long as I can. All through this hotwife process her orgasms have slowly got longer, louder, more intense. This one is another record breaker.
Nice View For The Dog Walkers - 25/04/20
In the morning she picks out the crotchless knickers that she asked me to buy her, she holds them up, smiling, and says: ‘I can’t wear these to work, can I?’
I say ‘I dare you.’
She laughs, takes off her bed knickers, and throws them at my face. ‘There you go! Don’t say I never give you anything.’
She goes about getting dressed. The knickers are still on my face. Christ she’s sexy. She’s built for sex. She doesn’t wear the crotchless knickers. Instead she chooses a really slutty red and black thong. I’ve been gradually buying her sluttier and sluttier knickers for nearly two years now. She thought it was odd at first but recently she started asking for them if she hasn’t had any for a while. She moves to the window and opens the curtains. Arms wide. Wearing only the thong.
‘Nice view for the dog walkers!’ I exclaim.
‘Piss off! Nobody can see in here from down there.’
‘If you genuinely think that then you must be Tinkerbell living in Fairyland.’
She laughs. ‘There are no fucking dog walkers!’ She dives onto the bed grinning. ‘There’s nobody out there! It’s seven am. And the neighbors are so old they can’t even see this far.’
I smile affectionately and tell her: ‘I love you.’
She kisses me.
I think she has always been secretly turned on by exhibitionism. We had a lot of outdoor sex in the old days. In some very public places. These days she claims she didn’t know that it’s i*****l. She says that I ought to have told her. But she still loves it if I fuck her in front of a window that someone could possibly walk past. Or out in the garden on a summer night where the neighbors could possibly see us, if they were interested. Although she will claim that there’s no way that people can see. Just as she claims that the neighbors can’t see her stood with her breasts spreadeagled at the window. She will claim that she wouldn’t do it if she thought anyone could see. But I don’t buy that bullshit. She’s a highly intelligent woman. I think she likes the fact that she can possibly be seen. It’s not that she wants to be seen. She probably genuinely doesn’t. I think it’s the risk that turns her on.
Spiderman – 09/05/20
Another lovely day. In the afternoon she takes the k**s climbing. I stay home and clean the house. I do all of the housework now. (As part of my strategy to increase her sex drive. Along with many other things, like the flowers, the chocolates, attentively listening, little romantic gifts and gestures, and much more.) It always worries me when she takes the k**s climbing. She lets them take on challenges that I wouldn’t, even if I was climbing with them, which she isn’t. She never seems concerned. They’ve yet to come to any harm.
As ever I’m relieved that she’s brought them both back uns**thed. I’m probably paranoid, having been partially crippled in my own fall. I ask how it was. She’s breathless and exuberant. She grabs herself a drink of water from the kitchen tap. Talking through mouthfuls of water and deep breaths. “Great!… Brendon is getting really good!... I reckon he’s already better than you.’
“As if.” I smile.
“They had a great time... They were both really good with each other... Brendon’s such a fantastic big brother…. Have you actually cleaned this fucking sink!?”
“Seriously? I’ve cleaned the whole house.”
“What… properly?” She comes at me laughing and starts roughly ticking at my ribs. It’s actually painful. I wrestle with her. Trying to shake her off.
Then suddenly she stops. ‘Oh my God!’ Her eyes are wide as if in shock.
‘What?’
“We saw Steve! He was climbing at Buckbarrow with no ropes. Free climbing!”
“Yeah.. he does that.”
“I couldn’t believe it. It must have been a sheer 300ft. Imagine if he fell. I was so scared for him. I actually had butterflies. I watched him all the way up. My heart was in my mouth…’
“He’s probably climbed that 300 times.”
“…He’s so strong. The strength that he must have in those arms! To hold and lift his body the way he does...”
“Well he’s only made of bone and muscle. He’s built like a cheetah.”
“…I was so relieved when he got to the top. I literally breathed a massive..”
I’ve zoned out. I’m only pretending to listen now. Soon the k**s come in from the garden and I’m reprieved from having to hear any more about Spiderman. She talks about him every time she runs into him. I’m fed up of hearing about him. But at least I know she’s run into him and I’ve no need to be concerned about it.
In the evening she comes to bed wearing those crotchless knickers. I still can’ t believe that she asked me to buy them for her. I suggested them a year ago and she was not receptive. She told me that they were weird and that she couldn’t understand why anyone would wear them. Then out of the blue (at Christmas) she asked me when was I going to buy her some crotchless knickers. Obviously I went straight out and got some. She claims to have no recollection of previously rejecting them. Nor of saying that they are weird. (Incidentally ‘weird’ is also the word that she used, when I upset her, by telling her I’d had a dream in which she was having sex with someone else.)
She snuggles into my arms and I kiss her. I gently feel for the split in the crotch. Then I move my hand away up her body. She puts it straight back between her legs. I gently stroke the split crotch. Slowly working my finger into her moistening vulva as she kisses me passionately. I lightly massage her clitoris. Slowly working my middle finger into her wet cunt as she slides her tongue into my mouth and then bites my bottom lip. (Just recently bottom lip biting seems to have become her thing.) She tells me I must lick her pussy. She says ‘I thought it was the only thing you were good at?’.
I slide down between her legs and pass my mouth slowly over her waxed crotch. Making sure that she can feel my breath as I pass over her pussy but not touching it. I talk to it. Silently. I mouth the words just so close that she can feel my lips moving over her labia? And clitoris. Tickling with my silently moving lips. “I want you to be my hotwife… I want you to fuck other men… I love you… You deserve this…You can have it all…” Occasionally I break to kiss her inner thighs or lower stomach, before returning to my silent mantra. Eventually sliding my fat tongue gently right into her. She moans ‘God I need a big cock.’ I lick her clitoris and massage her opening with one finger until her cum is dripping down her ass onto the bed sheets.
She stops me and sits me upright. She dives straight for my erect cock with her mouth. The pain from my back injury, due to the odd way that I’m knelt, is agonizing. But it’s worth suffering for the encompassing, rhythmic, pulsating, sensation in my cock as she sucks it hard and slow. This is a rare treat! I seldom get a blow job these days. I look down at her and she’s beautiful. Her taught body. Her blonde hair. I enjoy it until the pain in my back outweighs the pleasure. I push her down onto the bed and mount her. She grasps my left pectoral with her right hand and commands ‘Hold me strong. Firm but gentle’. I slide my cock halfway into her as I lick one of her nipples. She arches her back and grinds her hips. I keep to her rhythm. Strong unyielding thrusts. Slow and deep. She moans ‘Fuck me harder’. We grind together hard and fast. I slide my hand under her ass but she pulls it back and entwines her fingers into mine. She lays her hand, still locked with mine, on the pillow next to her head. My arm is outstretched like I’m pinning her down. Again she commands me: “Be strong!” I try to make my body as taught and strong as I can muster. My other arm is wrapped uncomfortably beneath her waist. (I had tried to move it but she had stopped me.) She pants: “Oh god!… Oh god I want to cum all over your cock!”
When she comes she is loud enough to wake the neighbors. As ever I try to stay on the spot, to keep her rhythm, to keep her going for as long as I can. When she’s done I imagine that I’m some random guy that she’s pulled and brought home to fuck whilst I watch. Releasing myself into her as she grasps my face with both hands and kisses me hard. Nowadays I always imagine that I’m another guy when make love. That turns me on. Those crotchless knickers might be weird but they certainly seem to turn her on.
She wakes in my arms. Holding her is magical. We fit together like two parts of a puzzle. There is no more heavenly place to be than laid here, with Sarah, with the warm morning sunlight streaming through the crack in the bedroom curtains. Locked together with her like this. Even first thing in the morning she’s beautiful. She doesn’t need make up. She never wears it. She looks so much younger than her 41 years. She blinks drowsily. I gaze into her saphire blue eyes and run my fingers through her blonde hair as it shimmers in the morning sunlight. Suddenly she pulls away saying: ‘Get off me you!’ She looks upset.
‘What?’
‘You said you want to have sex with other women!’
‘What the fuck?’ My heart is in my mouth. I’ve no idea what she is talking about. She’s clearly upset. She turns away from me. Still in my arms but now facing away from me.
‘You made me cry.’
‘When was thi… Ah... you’ve had a dream.’ I literally sigh with relief.
‘I asked you if you wanted to have sex with other women and you said yes!’
‘That’s just a bad dream honey. Even if I did want to have sex with other people. Which I don’t! I wouldn’t. Because I know that it would upset you. I love you. I’m totally committed to you. You own me. I belong to you. I like it that way. I love it.’
‘Yes well… I haven’t forgiven you yet.’
‘You can’t hold what I do in a dream against me. How about if I do that to you?’
She smiles, turns back to face me again, and kisses me saying. ‘I really don’t want to know what I do in your dreams.’
They’ll All Be Gagging For It – 10/04/20
She wakes in my arms. She rests her head upon the right of my chest and tenderly stokes my left pectoral. Running her fingers gently over my nipple. I love waking with her. It’s literally better than sex. She talks about lock down and how lucky we are to have a beautiful garden and an area of outstanding beauty at the end of the road whilst some are trapped in city flats. Then she says ‘Think how lucky you are having me to have sex with.’
‘Big yourself up why don’t you.’ I reply. I gaze into her eyes and smile as she looks coyly up at me. ‘I always count myself lucky to have you. In every respect. Not just sex. Everything about our life is literally living the dream. But the only thing in it that matters to me is you. Anywhere is paradise with you in it.’
‘I didn’t mean lucky to have sex with me specifically...’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Think about it. Think how many single guys there must be locked down.’ She directs her gaze back to my nipple that she is gently stroking. ‘What do you think they’re doing?’
‘Er… Wanking?’
She laughs. ‘Exactly! They’re not having sex. You are lucky that you have someone to have sex with. When they lift lock down think how many guys there will be who haven’t had sex for months. They’ll all be gagging for it!’
We both fall silent for a while. I’m a little gobsmacked. This feels like progress. I feel that I ought to grasp the opportunity and push this a bit. But I’m clumsy. ‘Well... maybe you should get out there and find one then. Imagine the fun you could have.’ Immediately I know that I’ve pushed it too far. She flips over and faces away from me. She’s not talking. ‘Hey… come on… what’s up?’
‘Why do you have to be so horrible? I can’t believe that you would say that!’
‘What?.. It wasn’t horrible. It was a nice thing to say.’
‘Nice. What the fuck! How is that nice? Basically you asked me: Honey go out and cheat on me please! How can you think that’s nice?’
I’m a bit shocked. I have to resist the temptation to point out that I never actually asked her to do anything. I don’t want to argue though. That will just make this worse. So I wait a few minutes and then I begin to tell her about a dream I’ve had. Nothing risque. Just a funny dream. She lightens up and she’s laughing and joking with me. Happy again. I must remember to keep what I say subtle. It has to be all implied and hinted at. Like in those romance novels.
We spend the day at the lake with the k**s. There’s nobody else around. It’s like our own private paradise. The sunshine, the shimmering water, the laughter of the c***dren. Sarah’s packed a picnic. She’s a fantastic cook. Proper healthy food that actually tastes amazing. Sitting there eating lunch with the k**s she’s like the picture of a perfect mother from a magazine. It occurs to me that I really am living the dream. Here, in the mountains, with this woman, this family, this lifestyle. And I really am incredibly lucky because this is her idea of paradise. This is her perfect day. Just me, her, and the k**s, splashing and swimming and chilling out. Right here. She doesn’t want riches. She doesn’t want fame. She doesn’t want a big house or car. She doesn’t want expensive clothes, restaurants, theater trips, foreign holidays... None of it. Just us. Here. God I love her.
In the evening for some reason she just wants to be fucked. No foreplay. Just straight in. She wants me on top of her. I fuck her hard, missionary. I try to position myself differently than I ever have before. To fuck her differently. Like as if I’m not me. Harder, faster, ravenously. Like I’ve been starved of it. She cums loud and long. As ever I try to keep her going for as long as I can. All through this hotwife process her orgasms have slowly got longer, louder, more intense. This one is another record breaker.
Nice View For The Dog Walkers - 25/04/20
In the morning she picks out the crotchless knickers that she asked me to buy her, she holds them up, smiling, and says: ‘I can’t wear these to work, can I?’
I say ‘I dare you.’
She laughs, takes off her bed knickers, and throws them at my face. ‘There you go! Don’t say I never give you anything.’
She goes about getting dressed. The knickers are still on my face. Christ she’s sexy. She’s built for sex. She doesn’t wear the crotchless knickers. Instead she chooses a really slutty red and black thong. I’ve been gradually buying her sluttier and sluttier knickers for nearly two years now. She thought it was odd at first but recently she started asking for them if she hasn’t had any for a while. She moves to the window and opens the curtains. Arms wide. Wearing only the thong.
‘Nice view for the dog walkers!’ I exclaim.
‘Piss off! Nobody can see in here from down there.’
‘If you genuinely think that then you must be Tinkerbell living in Fairyland.’
She laughs. ‘There are no fucking dog walkers!’ She dives onto the bed grinning. ‘There’s nobody out there! It’s seven am. And the neighbors are so old they can’t even see this far.’
I smile affectionately and tell her: ‘I love you.’
She kisses me.
I think she has always been secretly turned on by exhibitionism. We had a lot of outdoor sex in the old days. In some very public places. These days she claims she didn’t know that it’s i*****l. She says that I ought to have told her. But she still loves it if I fuck her in front of a window that someone could possibly walk past. Or out in the garden on a summer night where the neighbors could possibly see us, if they were interested. Although she will claim that there’s no way that people can see. Just as she claims that the neighbors can’t see her stood with her breasts spreadeagled at the window. She will claim that she wouldn’t do it if she thought anyone could see. But I don’t buy that bullshit. She’s a highly intelligent woman. I think she likes the fact that she can possibly be seen. It’s not that she wants to be seen. She probably genuinely doesn’t. I think it’s the risk that turns her on.
Spiderman – 09/05/20
Another lovely day. In the afternoon she takes the k**s climbing. I stay home and clean the house. I do all of the housework now. (As part of my strategy to increase her sex drive. Along with many other things, like the flowers, the chocolates, attentively listening, little romantic gifts and gestures, and much more.) It always worries me when she takes the k**s climbing. She lets them take on challenges that I wouldn’t, even if I was climbing with them, which she isn’t. She never seems concerned. They’ve yet to come to any harm.
As ever I’m relieved that she’s brought them both back uns**thed. I’m probably paranoid, having been partially crippled in my own fall. I ask how it was. She’s breathless and exuberant. She grabs herself a drink of water from the kitchen tap. Talking through mouthfuls of water and deep breaths. “Great!… Brendon is getting really good!... I reckon he’s already better than you.’
“As if.” I smile.
“They had a great time... They were both really good with each other... Brendon’s such a fantastic big brother…. Have you actually cleaned this fucking sink!?”
“Seriously? I’ve cleaned the whole house.”
“What… properly?” She comes at me laughing and starts roughly ticking at my ribs. It’s actually painful. I wrestle with her. Trying to shake her off.
Then suddenly she stops. ‘Oh my God!’ Her eyes are wide as if in shock.
‘What?’
“We saw Steve! He was climbing at Buckbarrow with no ropes. Free climbing!”
“Yeah.. he does that.”
“I couldn’t believe it. It must have been a sheer 300ft. Imagine if he fell. I was so scared for him. I actually had butterflies. I watched him all the way up. My heart was in my mouth…’
“He’s probably climbed that 300 times.”
“…He’s so strong. The strength that he must have in those arms! To hold and lift his body the way he does...”
“Well he’s only made of bone and muscle. He’s built like a cheetah.”
“…I was so relieved when he got to the top. I literally breathed a massive..”
I’ve zoned out. I’m only pretending to listen now. Soon the k**s come in from the garden and I’m reprieved from having to hear any more about Spiderman. She talks about him every time she runs into him. I’m fed up of hearing about him. But at least I know she’s run into him and I’ve no need to be concerned about it.
In the evening she comes to bed wearing those crotchless knickers. I still can’ t believe that she asked me to buy them for her. I suggested them a year ago and she was not receptive. She told me that they were weird and that she couldn’t understand why anyone would wear them. Then out of the blue (at Christmas) she asked me when was I going to buy her some crotchless knickers. Obviously I went straight out and got some. She claims to have no recollection of previously rejecting them. Nor of saying that they are weird. (Incidentally ‘weird’ is also the word that she used, when I upset her, by telling her I’d had a dream in which she was having sex with someone else.)
She snuggles into my arms and I kiss her. I gently feel for the split in the crotch. Then I move my hand away up her body. She puts it straight back between her legs. I gently stroke the split crotch. Slowly working my finger into her moistening vulva as she kisses me passionately. I lightly massage her clitoris. Slowly working my middle finger into her wet cunt as she slides her tongue into my mouth and then bites my bottom lip. (Just recently bottom lip biting seems to have become her thing.) She tells me I must lick her pussy. She says ‘I thought it was the only thing you were good at?’.
I slide down between her legs and pass my mouth slowly over her waxed crotch. Making sure that she can feel my breath as I pass over her pussy but not touching it. I talk to it. Silently. I mouth the words just so close that she can feel my lips moving over her labia? And clitoris. Tickling with my silently moving lips. “I want you to be my hotwife… I want you to fuck other men… I love you… You deserve this…You can have it all…” Occasionally I break to kiss her inner thighs or lower stomach, before returning to my silent mantra. Eventually sliding my fat tongue gently right into her. She moans ‘God I need a big cock.’ I lick her clitoris and massage her opening with one finger until her cum is dripping down her ass onto the bed sheets.
She stops me and sits me upright. She dives straight for my erect cock with her mouth. The pain from my back injury, due to the odd way that I’m knelt, is agonizing. But it’s worth suffering for the encompassing, rhythmic, pulsating, sensation in my cock as she sucks it hard and slow. This is a rare treat! I seldom get a blow job these days. I look down at her and she’s beautiful. Her taught body. Her blonde hair. I enjoy it until the pain in my back outweighs the pleasure. I push her down onto the bed and mount her. She grasps my left pectoral with her right hand and commands ‘Hold me strong. Firm but gentle’. I slide my cock halfway into her as I lick one of her nipples. She arches her back and grinds her hips. I keep to her rhythm. Strong unyielding thrusts. Slow and deep. She moans ‘Fuck me harder’. We grind together hard and fast. I slide my hand under her ass but she pulls it back and entwines her fingers into mine. She lays her hand, still locked with mine, on the pillow next to her head. My arm is outstretched like I’m pinning her down. Again she commands me: “Be strong!” I try to make my body as taught and strong as I can muster. My other arm is wrapped uncomfortably beneath her waist. (I had tried to move it but she had stopped me.) She pants: “Oh god!… Oh god I want to cum all over your cock!”
When she comes she is loud enough to wake the neighbors. As ever I try to stay on the spot, to keep her rhythm, to keep her going for as long as I can. When she’s done I imagine that I’m some random guy that she’s pulled and brought home to fuck whilst I watch. Releasing myself into her as she grasps my face with both hands and kisses me hard. Nowadays I always imagine that I’m another guy when make love. That turns me on. Those crotchless knickers might be weird but they certainly seem to turn her on.
Arisha
- 10.11.2022
- 10
- 0
