Heather in Houston
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The Threesome Next DoorChapter 8: Houston, We Have Lift Off free porn video
The following week Ginger had to be in Chicago area to see one of her clients. She was away two nights, and our daughter took it upon herself to be my consort both nights, although she wasn’t the only one. We sexted pictures to Ginger – usually erotic and sexy but with us making funny faces to keep it light. They were appreciated.
Brad and Megan made an offer on the home on the other side of Doug, Beth, and Jo from us. After a little haggling they agreed on a price pending a home inspection and a few other things. All that went into action. They wanted to move in a month if things went their way.
Jo spent a night with Jillian and me, and Beth the next night. We were energetic lovers. Moreover, Ethan and Ellie were usually right down the hall, if not also in our bed sharing themselves with us. Doug usually had Megan and his other wife. Brad was in their mix as well.
I got back on track with my clients, and sold another job in Houston with a company named Mantra Electronics over the phone. I’d have to fly over there the following week to really close the deal and start on the work.
Doug had his course load for the semester lined up, and was spending his days preparing the syllabus for each class, and preparing his teaching plans and lab assignments. Beth was usually gone in the daytime at her gallery and studio, and Jo was at her job in Bradenton making good with the company’s financials.
The following Sunday, Jillian flew back to her school on the west coast to begin her junior year. We had a teary goodbye. This wasn’t a matter of her saying goodbye to her parents, she was leaving her lovers: Ethan, Ginger, and me, along with our neighbors. The same afternoon, Ethan and Ellie left to drive back to his college almost three hours away.
Ellie and Ethan were a solid couple by the time they left. He confided in me that he never thought he’d ever meet a girl that would blend in with our family and neighbors so easily and so thoroughly. Ellie told me she loved Ginger and me the night before they left. I told her she was always welcome whether or not she remained with my son. She assured me that they were solid and growing together. She also warned that she intended to model our open marriage with him once they got on campus. I wondered what that would be like.
Suddenly, we were empty nesters again. Ginger and I were left looking at each and laughing; we’d been through this before and all we could do was laugh at our feelings of loneliness. The past months had been so transformational and so full of people.
The next week I was in California with Symtech Carrington, and then Houston, Texas, and Ginger was in Chicago ending the job with Baron Services and then White Plains with a new client - Hansen Financial Services. We wrote up little fantasies about meeting people and sent them to each other. I reminded her she had the easier time of picking up guys compared to me. She was the hot looking woman.
I was surprised when my second day in Texas with Mantra Electronics I got an invitation to dinner with one of the vice presidents in my client’s company – a sharp looking and fashionable woman about fifty. The woman was not working on the acquisition I was helping the company evaluate, so I accepted without much thought. I informed Ginger and asked for any ideas about how to handle the evening. I thought it might be an opportunity to sell another consulting assignment within the same company. I expected a professional business-type answer.
Ginger responded with a text: ‘ROFLOL. Wine her, dine her, kiss her, romance her, fuck her, leave her quaking, cuddle her, take pictures, send me some, and bring the rest of the pictures home. Go for it. I love you. G.’
Tara Bennett proved to be a very entertaining woman. I met her right after the workday ended. She’d been in an hour-long workshop I’d run about other management opinions on the acquisition and its evaluation factors, so I’d briefly met her a day earlier.
She brought me back to her posh and beautiful condominium; an expansive, low-rise, western motif building with more amenities than any resort I’d ever been in. We had wine and cheese on the veranda of her condo overlooking the eighteenth green of the associated golf course. In response to her questions, I explained that I hadn’t played regularly since forever, but did like the game. She promised to set up a round for sometime soon. Now, that sounded promising and also a little longer-term than anybody else seemed to be thinking about my presence in Houston.
We walked from her condo to her nearby country club for dinner. She was known by name by everyone, and I was pleasantly introduced to other members and staff alike. I was cordial to all. I was never supercilious to hourly staff; we were all working just at different jobs. I learned later that my jocular and conversational attitude with our waiter scored big points with her. She did not like people that belittled others so they could feel ‘big’. I never thought I was ego bound.
We shared a liqueur back on her veranda, and I was polite and assumed nothing. I did not ‘come on to’ or ‘hit on’ Tara. I tried to school myself not to take people for granted, and that meant not assuming I knew what their motives were or what they really wanted from some interaction or event.
Further, there was an old adage in the consultant trade: ‘Never get the client pregnant’.
I made going back to my motel noises about nine-thirty but she kept us talking. At ten o’clock I tried again. Tara looked at me and bluntly asked, “Are you unhappy being here with me?”
“God, no,” I said with genuine emotion. “I love talking with you. I just know it’s a work night, and you even mentioned earlier that you were often in your office early. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Tara grinned, “You will not overstay your welcome, because your welcome as you call it extends at least until tomorrow morning. I’m also hoping you’ll be back with me tomorrow night.”
I relaxed and nodded, “I’d be delighted.” I was pretty sure I’d interpreted her remarks correctly.
“Good, now come with me.”
I stood and she took my hand. I followed Tara into her bedroom. My analytical brain did a rapid assessment about the arc of the rest of the evening. Positive things were happening from my point of view.
Tara turned at the foot of her large bed and kissed me. I kissed back.
She said, “I am not breaking up your marriage. This is a friends-with-benefits kind of evening. Is that acceptable?”
I nodded. “Ginger and I have an open marriage. There’s only one requirement that I was given.”
“What’s that?” Tara asked with a smirk.
I passed Tara my phone. Ginger’s text message was still in the window. Tara laughed. I like your wife and I haven’t even met her. Keep your phone out.”
Tara and I made out some more and gradually lost our clothing over the next fifteen minutes. We were being slow and sultry about our lovemaking and not frantically rushing into anything. I think I’d read her mood correctly.
When we were nude I secretly evaluated Tara’s body. She was an athlete. She had visible ab muscles, pecs, triceps, and biceps. She worked out. I suspected the condo club had a superb gym and trainers.
“Take my picture,” Tara suggested as she struck a sexy and suggestive pose on the bed.
I took a dozen, with each pose getting increasingly exhibitionist and downright lewd. Tara told me, “I think I know what your wife would like to see.”
Tara gestured me to her, and she sucked my cock into her mouth, but not before suggesting another picture or two. I took them. She continued working on me for a few minutes.
I made use of my hands on her body and especially her pussy that I could reach in the position we were in. She got increasingly wet and occasionally jerked with some pleasure at what I was giving to her.
I stopped her at one point and went down on her. She tasted divine, and I started to really get into eating her. I looked up her body at one point and she was holding my cellphone and taking pictures of me eating her out. She smiled, “You have to have something worthwhile to show Ginger. Hey, do you suppose she’s fucking some guy right now?”
I chuckled, “Maybe. I hope so. I hope she has a night of pleasure just the way I’m hoping you will.”
“Oh, you say the sweetest things. Keep eating me. You’re off to a great start.”
I was thinking about how great Tara tasted. I wondered whether it was politically correct to be using dining terms to refer to the cunnilingus we both seemed to be enjoying so. I even chuckled to myself: I was eating her; dining at the ‘Y’; she tasted good; I had a furburger in my mouth; her clam tasted good; I was enjoying a box lunch; and I hoped I was tossing her salad. I knew there were other crude terms, but those were the ones that came to mind.
I did wonder why some adult-oriented chemical company hadn’t come up with a candy a guy could suck that would taste the same as Tara or Ginger or Jillian or any of the females I loved to indulge. Instead, I usually purchased wintergreen or peppermint mints. No comparison.
Tara writhed under me for twenty minutes as I licked, sucked, pulled, prodded, and did about everything I could think of to do to a pussy with mouth and fingers. My jaw was getting tired. I wondered how Jillian could suck cock for so long. Practice?
I pulled Tara’s torso to the edge of the bed and folded her legs up towards the ceiling. I was hard. I rubbed myself along her slit and then allowed the head to ‘catch’ at the opening to her vagina. She watched me with an invitational smile. She said, “Do it. Fuck me.”
I slowly sank into her. Tara said, “Stop. Don’t move.” I was about as deep inside her as I could go. I froze. I thought maybe she wanted to get used to me or savor the fullness of my cock inside her. Or maybe I was hurting her in some way and she was adjusting herself.
Tara produced my cellphone again and took several pictures, including a couple from over her head looking down her nude body to where I was buried inside her. Her tuft of pubic hair signaled that all was well.
Tara said, “OK, that’ll give your Ginger something to think about. Fuck me.” I started to pump into her body again, and I was horny. Tara had already enjoyed a half-dozen orgasms. My turn was cumming very soon. I had no will power. Five minutes later I warned, was pulled deeper into the French kiss we were sharing as my hips moved to drive my cock inside her, and then I exploded. I flooded Tara’s mature pussy with my male jizz. From her reaction, I thought Tara also had a smaller climax that the earlier ones I’d given her.
I gradually withered and slid out of her sodden pussy. She giggled, an interesting sound from the slightly older woman executive. I surprised and amazed her at that point, because I went down on her. I sucked up the cum and her juices from all around her vaginal opening, and even managed to give her one more orgasm.
“Fuck,” Tara said as she came down from her high. “I am jealous of Ginger. No one has ever eaten me after we fucked and they came inside me. That was ... fabulous. Now, let’s see what Ginger is up to and let’s amuse her with some pictures of us.”
I let Tara pick eight pictures of us to send to Ginger. Each one was increasingly sexual and exhibitionist, right up to where she had a picture of me eating her after we’d had intercourse. My face was covered in ‘us’. I gave her Ginger’s cellphone number and she texted them from my phone.
About two minutes later my photo jingled with the signal that a text had come in. The text was from Ginger and read, ‘Oh, you naughty man. I hope you can bring her home so I can play with her, too. You two look well matched. Don’t forget Round #2 pics. I’ll have some to share in a minute. Love you. Gin.’
Tara asked in a surprised tone, “So, she’s going to send some of her?”
“I guess so. In case you couldn’t tell, when we’re apart we’re not always sure what the other is doing.”
My phone chimed to indicate a text message. I opened the text and scanned through the pictures my wife had just sent. They were all selfies and about as self-explanatory as mine had been. Ginger wrote no text comments.
Picture 1 – Selfie. Handsome man kissing Ginger in hotel cocktail lounge.
Picture 2 – Looking down at Ginger’s nude body as she sucks on large cock.
Picture 3 – View down Ginger’s nude body as handsome man eats her pussy.
Picture 4 – Large cock about to enter pussy with tuft of Ginger’s red pubic hair.
Picture 5 – Large cock buried in same pussy and groin very wet with girl cum.
Picture 6 – Pussy with ginger hair above it oozing man cum.
I texted back, ‘He didn’t clean you?’
The reply teased, ‘Some guys just haven’t been taught good manners.’
‘I love you. Maybe he cuddles well. Sleep tight. Hugs. Love you. Steve.’
‘I love you. Gin.’
I was in my client’s office at nine o’clock as planned, and we started reviewing the list of activities I was giving them for an adequate due diligence investigation of a company they were buying.
About eleven o’clock, a young and pretty secretary with long blonde hair that I hadn’t met came into the conference room and asked to speak to me. I was surprised, but gestured her over. She said, “I’m Tara Bennett’s AA, Stacy Montgomery. She wonders whether you might have time for lunch to discuss a consulting engagement with the marketing side of our company. I had done some research for her, and noted on your website that you have experience in just the areas we’ve been talking about doing something.”
My client looked surprised and nodded at me. “Do it. We’re about done this part, anyway. Tara Bennett is a ‘Big Cheese’ around here. What she says goes, even more than our CEO. I have no problem with you taking an engagement with her. It’ll reflect well on us, especially if you knock it out of the park with your results – whatever they are.”
I asked the AA how we’d connect for lunch. She said, “Miss Bennett will meet you with her car in front of the building at twelve-thirty. She asked if you were free for a round of golf during the afternoon?”
I looked at my client and he was genuflecting in the general direction of Tara’s secretary, doing everything except kneeling, bowing at her, and kissing her feet. He said, “You’re free. You’re free. Play golf. Please, play golf. You’re done for the week here. We can talk on the phone about any follow-up and you’ll be here again soon, in any case.”
I shrugged as though this was all new news. “I guess I’m free for a round of golf. Perhaps we can swing by my hotel and I can pickup some casual clothes and sneakers.”
“I’ll let her know,” the AA said. She smiled pretty at me and then left the room. For some reason I felt my cock stir as I watched her pert little ass swing out the door. She was very attractive and gave off an air of efficiency and brilliance.
Tara picked me up in a new Jaguar convertible with the top down. She left the executive parking lot with the tires smoking and we were at my hotel in what seemed like seconds with every police car in the city wondering what the blur was that just passed them.
Tara commanded, “Get your luggage. You’re staying as a guest with me tonight. Check out.”
I did as directed. Twenty minutes later we were at Tara’s condo, and I was getting into clothes appropriate to play a round of golf. By magic, Tara had already changed and stood watching me strip to my briefs and redress. She just smiled.
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