My Bestfriend
- 3 years ago
- 50
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Rough Friend free porn video
I drove to the station to meet her, and did not recognise her at first, Carol had always what I privately thought as a power dresser, but Mark unkindly referred to her style as “Redneck”; today though she was in a flowing print dress complete with a stylish floppy hat, she was even wearing heels, although if there is one woman in Britain who did not need heels it was lanky Carol.
“Get you!” I greeted as we hugged, I was a bit breathless, she was really putting some muscle into the hug, I felt more like I was being arrested.
She let me go and touched the hat self-consciously, smiled apologetically. “You don’t like it?”
“I love it,” I lied, noticing her nails were manicured and painted, I bunched my fists to hide my nibbled ones. She took my arm, startling me, the last person who linked arms with me and been my mother when I was twelve.
“So, you did not mention why you are back?” I broke what was proving an awkward silence as we walked toward the car, her suitcase rumbling along behind us.
“I left Tom,” she said bluntly.
The awkward silence got even awkwarder and stretched until we got to the car.
“When you say left…” I ventured.
“I mean for good!” She snapped, hoisting her case into the back. “Sorry, my head is a mess, it was a toss up, kill him or leave him, and I hear prison food is crap.”
We climbed into the car, I kept quiet, Carol looked mad enough to kill me as a surrogate.
I saw her start to relax as she took in the old sights, Carol had been a “Local” meaning born and raised in Portsmouth, and married Tom after meeting him at the base hop, not quite an Officer and a Gentleman story, but close enough for a Pompey tart.
“You know you can stay as long as you want,” I ventured.
“Thanks,” she retorted shortly. “But just a few days would really help, my Dad is going to help me find a flat, he already has a short list. I nodded and wondered why she was not staying with her parents, she read my mind. “I need to get ready for all the I told you so’s from my mother.”
“Ah,” I said lamely, thinking of her mother and her disapproving snarky remarks at my expense, I did not need some softy southerner reminding me I was a miner’s brat, I had a husband who did that.
“You are kidding me!” She exclaimed as I pulled into the drive. “You bought this? Mark been selling torpedoes to the Russians?”
“We got it cheap,” I admitted. “Navy is selling off old married quarters.”
“Back in the day you and I lived in cardboard flats, this is a married quarter?”
“I am told an admiral lived here,” by the neighbours, many times. I did not mention we had had to take a second, larger, mortgage to make the place habitable, the admiral probably fought at Trafalgar.
I gave her the expected tour, trying hard not to gloat, it was an incredible house with five bedrooms and a dining room as well as a living room, imagine that! A big jump from the two-bedroom flat in Rowner we had previously.
We fetched up on the breakfast bar – yep, I had a breakfast bar! How is that for a miner’s brat from Grimethorpe? I offered coffee and she pulled a face so I uncorked a bottle of fine wine. Oh okay, I twisted the top off a bottle of Blue Nun. The white wine gobbled into a pair of big glasses, Carol held hers by the stem between both hands, moodily twisting it from side to side. I twitched with the urge to grab it back, that was real crystal.
“What will you do?” I asked finally. “I mean work wise?”
“Go back to teaching,” she shrugged. I should point out when Carol says teaching she is unlikely to be talking about Fareham High School, she had been a history teacher at a private college when Tom found her slumming it down the strip. She took a long pull of wine and looked around the kitchen. “You have done alright for yourself.” For a miner’s brat.
I took a modest sip. “We are doing okay.” Oops! The “WE” had to have hit home. “I am working for British Nuclear Fuels, Mark got rated up.”
She showed no interest, sparing me having to admit I was actually just a secretary at BNF.
Sitting on the stool with her long legs crossed I could not help but notice Carol had lost weight, where it counted, her top end was just as magnificent as ever, I am no flat chest at 38C but Carol cashed in at a man catching 40E, she once described her bra as two buckets on a rope. She had lost the slight spare at her waist and her broad hips gave her a classic hour glass shape held up by legs that went all the way to floor when she stood up. She had doubled as a gym teacher and it showed in the muscle tone of her stilt legs. I refilled her glass as she moodily gulped it down.
Without the hat the dress caught the eye and it flattered her Junoesque figure, clinging to the good bits and forming smooth curves in-between, it was knee length but slit, sitting as she was it revealed she was wearing holdup stockings, another change, when she caught me wearing stockings one night we were out she accused me of pandering to male ideas of eye candy.
“Was it an affair?” I asked delicately. Tom had made plenty of passes at me, and I doubt I was unique, Mark usually referred to him as a Fanny Rat.
Carol sighed. “Like he never had one! Two faced bastard!”
I blinked and suddenly the change in her dress sense made perfect sense. “Oh!”
She drained the second glass and helped herself to the next, emptying the bottle and shaking it like ketchup. “Oh!” She mimicked. “Don’t you judge me as well!”
“I am hardly in a position to criticise!” I pointed out. “You know that!”
“I am talking about an affair, not some one-night stand,” she remarked. I was not sure how that made such a difference but held my tongue. “He did not marry a nun,” she continued after a pause. “He knew that, I have needs and with him away so much…” She realised she was preaching to the choir and stopped. “We were not hurting anyone; Tom had my full attention when he was in port.”
I got another bottle out of the chiller, oh, I did not mention the wine chiller, did I? Built into the fitted kitchen, nice.
“So it had been going on for a while?”
“A year,” she sighed.
“And Tom found out?”
“Walked in on us,” Carol admitted. Ship came in early.
I winced, that was my nightmare ever since Mark’s mother caught us on her precious rug, she made such a fuss, even burning the rug, think she would have burned me too if we lived in earlier times. “Was it bad?”
“Bad?” She blinked at me.
“Well, a major scene, or did he just walk back out?”
Carol shook her head and her bronze curls wagged over her broad shoulders. “No he wanted to join in.”
“Tom?” I gasped. “I never thought he was that way inclined.”
“Oh get real,” she disparaged. “All men are. But Susan was having none of it and he got the hump on.”
“Sir – sir – Susan?” I stammered.
“Susan Trent,” She amplified. “You remember her?”
My head was reeling, of course I knew Susan Trent, she had been one of the gang when the boys were doing their – well whatever it was they did when they were all at Collingwood. “But she is married!” I objected.
Carol threw her head back and laughed, a real roar of mirth. “Oh you are priceless Sal! I tell you I was having a lesbian affair and that is your objection? She is married? So am I, and you, what the hell does that matter?”
I could not help but try to picture them together, it was like trying to jam a jigsaw bit to another wrong bit. Susan was a tiny elf of a woman, delicate, shy and utterly under the thumb of her bully of a husband, she and mighty Carol getting sweaty together? Nah!
“I never suspected,” I admitted, meaning Susan, but Carol thought otherwise.
“That I was bi? Not something I broadcast, puts other women off, they get jumpy, scared I might make a pass at them. Nice skirt by the way, shows off your legs.” I twitched the hem down and she howled laughter again. “See what I mean? Relax, I am not going to try and jump you!”
I felt myself blushing hard and tried to cool it with a long drink of the cold wine.
“So Tom, what? Threw you out?”
“No, he sulked, and told Susan’s husband, then she would not see me anymore so I fucked him off, I might have married him but he does not own me.” She fell into a moody silence, I got myself trying to tug my skirt down again, why the hell did I wear the short leather one today? Oh yeah, to impress Carol, our friendship had always been like that, when we went out I checked myself in the mirror to see what some potential man might see, but if Carol would approve. Got it wrong occasionally, like the stockings. I glanced at hers in plain sight. Two faced bitch!
To my horror I saw her glance down also and smile knowingly, crap! I did not know where to put my eyes, I fixed on her hair, she reached up and combed her locks with her fingers.
“So Tom had no idea about your…” Er…
“Proclivities? No, look it is not what you think, I like men, but sometimes I see a girl and I think, wow, I like that, I do not go prowling around looking for a willing girl.”
I hesitated but the wine was loosening my tongue. “So how did you and Susan….?”
“I was getting a bit porky,” she smoothed her hands down her stomach, drawing my eyes. “I started going to aerobics and there was Susan, taking the class.”
“Susan teaches aerobics? She kept that quiet.”
Carol smiled at her memories. “She kept everything quiet, We got to having a juice afterwards and talking about the Collingwood days, then one day she suggested we get a sauna to relax, the towels were the first thing to relax and - well – it just or happened.
I shivered at the image, except Carol was not peeling the towel off Susan, it was off me. What would I have done? Slapped her hand away? Not likely, her size and strength intimidated me, even more her towering self-confidence, would I have just let her undress me and touch me? My cheeks were burning red hot and I scrambled in my mind for some other image. I found myself slipping off the stool and grabbed the table to push myself back, the second bottle was empty, I slipped a third and picked up my part full glass. “Let’s go sit down.”
I led the way to the lounge and curled my legs up onto the sofa as Carol flumped into an arm chair. At once I realised sitting as I was the skirt had hiked up a half mile and my legs were totally out there, but if I re-arranged myself Carol would notice and know why, distractingly she crossed her long legs again.
“I am sorry, by the way,” Carol said, breaking a long but not uncomfortable silence.
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
“Oban.”
I had to think for a bit. “Oh, that,” we had never mentioned it and neither had Mark.
“That,” she was twisting the glass again. “I screwed your husband, that was not cool. I am sorry.”
I did not know what to say, but if my blush got any harder my head would melt.
“You never said anything, I thought our friendship would be over. Do you mind me asking, why you did not do something to stop us?”
“I…” I what? I am a voyeur and enjoyed it, that I wanted to have something on Mark? I shook my head.
Carol was concentrating on her wine, not looking at me. “I did it to get back at you, I should not have, it was childish.”
“Get back at me?” I was astonished. “What did I ever do to you?”
She glanced briefly at me. “Kelly’s,” she responded briefly
Kelly’s? Mark and I had stayed there a few times, he liked the mirrored four posters, they made me airsick. Oh – Ah! But no, Carol and I went once, we were invited to some sort of party, for the life of me I could not recall who or what it was about, oh my God, I had gotten wasted, a couple of guys had come on to us and they were renting a room, we went up with them. But what about that would Carol take as an offence, it was not as though I had forced her into the one-night drunken stand.
“Your date passed out,” I said slowly. “you pushed him off the bed and even then he did not wake up.”
“Yours was very active though,” her tone was brittle.
“You wanted him?” I groped for the root of what I could see was anger in her.
“No stupid, I wanted you, instead I had to lie there watching you with him in the mirror. I hated you so much.”
“You wanted me?” I was lost. “You mean you wanted me to ditch my date because yours was out?” That kind of made sense, we had a strict pact, if only one of us pulled we ditched the guy, we both left a club with a man or neither of us did.
“I wanted you,” she stressed the ‘wanted’.
“I always wanted you, it was bad enough hearing you in the next bedroom, but that night I was right next to you, you were glorious and I… was… so…. Fucking… jealous!” In the car I was thinking of that night and thought ‘time for pay back!’ Pretty sad of me, huh?”
“You were jealous of me? You!” I found myself mimicking her twisting of the glass and put it on the coffee table with a firm click.
“No, I was jealous of that guy, I wanted to be the one doing the things he was doing to you.” She met my astonished eyes and made a toasting gesture. “You were fantastic by the way, your looked stunning and drunk or not you took that guy into orbit and blew his mind.”
There was a stunned silence on my part, then Carol stirred. “Can I borrow your phone? I better call a taxi.”
I did not want her to go. “You asked why I did not interrupt you,” I blurted out. “Because I enjoyed it, I enjoyed watching you and Mark, but mainly you.”
Her eyes widened and she mouthed a silent “Oh!”
My heart was hammering painfully, I could feel a vein in my throat pulsing, she must be able to see it. Maybe it was the wine talking, or maybe it had been two months since I had known any touch but my own. “Do you still feel that way about me?” My voice sounded hoarse and strained in my ears.
Carol flowed to her feet, for a big girl with a lot of wine in her she was very graceful, her glass clinked against mine on the table, I watched like a rabbit caught in headlights as she stepped around the table to stand in front of me, I had to crane my head back to look up. Her firm hands took my wrists and gently pulled me up off the couch, my shoes touched the floor but there was no strength in my shaking legs, her grip was all that stopped my sinking down into a puddle of Sally goo.
“You sure?” She breathed, looking down into my eyes.
“This will not be my first all-girl rodeo,” my voice was still broken. “I am sure.”
I had surprised her. “I did not know.”
“Like you said, not the sort of thing we broadcast, but it has been a while, be patient with me.”
Her full mouth quirked. “Perhaps this is a bad time to tell you I get kind of kinky.”
I pouted. “You are talking to the woman who watched you screw her husband, cap that.”
Her hands let go of my wrists, my buckling knees dropped me onto them, I caught the back of her knees to stop going on down lower, the fabric of her stockings felt slick, lycra I guessed.
“Take my panties off.” Her voice had no trace of the terror in mine, it was as firm and commanding as the hands she now placed on my shoulders to reinforce her dominance over me.
My mouth was dry with fear, I was not kidding when I said it had been a while, as in years, before I got married; I wondered if it was like riding a bike. My hands slid up the back of her legs, reaching the lace top seam, the giggle band we used to call it at school, let him get that far and he is laughing. My palms were now on bare skin, smooth, warm and tight with muscle, but I felt a tremor and was comforted to know that under that cool façade she was nervous too.
My fingertips found the border of her panties, rough feeling lace, I traced the pronounced curve of her bottom to reach the top border, hooked my fingers in and drew them down to her ankles where she obligingly lifted each foot in turn so I could free them from her.
She snapped her fingers and held out one hand, I obediently handed her her panties. With one hand she tightly balled up the lace and with the other pressed firmly on my chin, opening my mouth. Well to be fair she had warned me she was kinky, but this was a new one on me. She pushed her balled up panties into my mouth, pressing them all the way in to form a very efficient ball gag.
And something else.
My eyes popped as a musky scent filled my nose, coming up the back way from my mouth, it was powerful and intoxicating, my heart was doing a trip hammer impression and the room swayed around me. Carol laughed softly. “You are getting a pheromone high, I have been leaking since I saw you on the station.” There was a distinct dampness to the fabric, and getting wetter as I salivated helplessly. “Like it?”
I could only make a muffled gurgle and nod, one hand went to the back of my head, the other lifted up her dress to her navel and she pressed my face tight to her pubic hair. I had a second to notice she was a true redhead, her pubes were blond with a hint of rust, I also noticed she kept them tight trimmed and short, this was before shaving had become the fashion. Then I breathed in through my nose and got her scent direct from the mother lode.
I got zapped a couple of times with smelling salts after fainting in assembly at school, the effect was pretty similar, I tried to pull back but the hand on my head just pressed me harder, my hands wound around her legs to steady myself, there did not seem to be any oxygen in what I was breathing and darkness began to creep from the edges of my sight toward the middle, Carol parted her legs slightly and pushed my head down lower until my nose literally parted her vagina and pressed on in, breathing the mind blasting scent and speeding up the blackness until I was totally blind.
I knew I was about three seconds from a full on faint, but powerless to do anything about it, I hoped I would not freak out Carol.
But with exquisite timing she eased my head back and I got a draft of fresh air, although with the underlying scent from the panties and the proximity of the source, I was still completely blacked out when Carol lifted me by the elbows and planted me I started to slide back down. I heard her giggle and then picked up effortlessly with her hands in my armpits and carefully deposited lying on my back, full length on the couch.
Blind to what was going on I felt my ankles positioned to lift my knees, then a teasing hand ran up the length of my leg, tickling and making me squirm, the hand rested on the front of my panties, sadly I had not dressed with the intention of them being inspected and they were plain white Sloggies. Her hand pressed, flattening my pubes, then a strong finger pressed the fabric hard against my pussy and rubbed up and down, my juices gushed down and the fabric was soon well dampened. I felt my panties being pulled down and lifted up my bum to let them slide from under me, they were taken to my knees, my ankles moved again to lay my legs flat and the panties tugged away, along with my shoes, leaving me nude below my skirt.
My sight returned as the blood flowed back into my head, Carol had my panties and was balling them up, “Sauce for the goose,” she winked and eased them into her mouth.
Her eyes turned up for a moment and she breathed out hard through her nose, knelt down on the floor, took my legs and twisted me toward her, set my legs over her shoulders, bent her head to my bush and inhaled long and deep.
I giggled, I could not help it, so this was kinky sex? Lucky the panty gag turned my giggle into a sort of gurgle. As she had made me do Carol pressed her nose into me, the bridge of her nose rubbed my engorged clit and the gurgle became a deep throated groan of delight, I got a double handful of hair and tried to yank her deeper, anatomically impossible but it did increase the pressure on my clit into it felt so good it was near pain. I felt her breath in several times, sucking in my pheromones, when she came up for air there was such a wild look in her eyes I was struck with fear. She roughly yanked my panties of her mouth, they were wet through, tossing them aside she slapped her hands onto my thighs and went back down.
My back arched and I screamed, or would have done if not gagged. Her fierce mouth clamped over my pussy and she bit cruelly at my super sensitised clit, actually nipping it with her teeth, then sucking it hard between her lips and biting again.
There was no way I could take this, but all my strength pushing at her head and pulling her hair made not a jot of difference, she made animal growling noises as she sucked and bit me, driving me insane, my bare heels kicked at her back and flailed helplessly up into the air as her mouth sent waves of confusion into my thigh muscles.
I gasped in relief when her tormenting mouth finally stopped, but my respite was short lived, she combed the fingers of one hand through my wiry bush, then bunched into a fits and yanked so hard I screamed again and tears tore from my eyes, she was watching me avidly, judging, she eased up and I sobbed with relief, then pulled and twisted at the same time, racking me pain that was somehow also incredibly exciting. I found myself wondering if she had done this to frail Susan and if so how the hell had she survived?
Carol changed her grip to my ankles and hoisted them high and wide, she then spat repeatedly and deliberately into my exposed pussy, she then returned my legs to her shoulders and worked a thumb into me, stirring her spit with my own helplessly flowing juices, she then thrust two fingers deep into me, causing an explosion of sensation, the fingers hooked inside me and were pulled back out drenched in creamy flued which she thrust into her mouth and noisily licked and sucked clean before repeating the move, dragging the juice out of me and drinking it with noisy relish. This treatment of my pussy was driving me to imminent orgasm, my belly was fluttering and it felt like a icy water was flowing down from it into my thighs. Carol’s eyes were on mine and she plunged in again the dam gave way, I felt a gushing sensation and my pussy clamped around her fingers, my nose made a whistling noise as the breath exploded out of me, and with precise timing, at the height of my orgasm, Carol grabbed my pubes again and pulled and the delicious agony extended the internal explosion, she held the grip until the orgasm faded, leaving me limp and utterly drained, only then did she release my bush with a friendly pat.
Carol rocked back on her heels, admiring her handywork, I was a sweat drenched fright, unevenly flushed over my whole body, legs drawn up as the womb quakes slowly settled, guttural noises were leaking past the gag. Carol smiled, but it was the kind of smile a hunter probably has as the lion goes down with a clean shot to the heart.
She reached out, snagged the panties in my mouth and teased them out, the lace caught on my teeth a few times and I expect they were now not fit to wear. I worked my jaw, it hurt from being jammed open, Carol made a show of opening up her panties and examining them, smelt them and tossed them aside. I was still on the couch, knocked out, the occasional tremor floating through my body. “Did I weird you out?” She asked, she was not concerned, just curious.”
“You beat my kink,” I admitted. “You do that often?”
“Not really, Tom is a baby, kinky sex for him was a blind fold, always for me.”
I made no comment, if she expected me to tell her Mark’s kinks she was out of luck, he was an NCO in a fighting service, it would kill his career.
And the main source of income for our new house.
“I did not do much for you,” I admitted.
Her eyebrows rocketed. “Were you under the impression that because you came that is it? That, honey, is what we call foreplay!”
“Oh cheesy!” I accused. “I saw that film, actually with you, and you thought it was scarey…. Oh!”
Carol looked sad and amused. “I kept grabbing you, my stupid attempt at a pass.”
I sat up with an effort, Carol was kneeling still next to me. “Oh wow,” I said weakly. “I am thick, I had no idea!” A thought occurred to me and typically was out of my mouth before I could censor it. “I am not going to leave Mark.”
Carol shook her head. “Seriously, you and I playing house? Never going to happen, I know that, but I want to share some of your spare time, if you are up for it.”
“I am,” I told her. “But I have a condition.”
Carol looked wary. “So tell me!”
“Shave me,” I told her firmly, she had really hurt me tugging on my pubes.
“Got a straight razor in my bag,” she assured me. “Stay there.” -->
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