Swimmerboy Pt. 03: Mom's Third Best

My other hand renewed it's acquaintance with fork, stuffing my face. My jaws chewed.

"Eight?" she said. "I don't think so."

With that she opened my shorts and pulled me out.

"Have you ever measured?" she said, holding it, admiring it.

"Mm, hm. Eight."

She got up, opened a kitchen drawer and returned with a ruler.

"See?" she said. "Twelve inches! A whole foot! This ruler isn't long enough."

"You measure from the top side," I said. "From the pubic bone."

"Nine inches," she said, reading the ruler. "Not eight. And... two inches thick!."

I shrugged. "It's different sometimes. You know that."

I stopped. I almost said you know that from your husband, but didn't want to remind her.

"I know it changes, but God... you are huge."

She tugged at my shorts. I stood and removed them, then stripped off my baggy tee and sat back down. She sat on my lap and stroked me. I opened her robe and caressed her body. She squeezed my erection in her hand.

"Easy," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied.

"No, it's okay. I'm just a bit... raw from last night."

"I have just the thing," she said.

She hurried away and returned, then slathered me with super-smooth something, then climbed back into my lap, straddling me. I felt her sex. She wasn't ready, so I pulled her out of the bathrobe, swept it off her shoulders and kissed her small breasts, pulling them almost entirely into my mouth, my arms sweeping up and down her back, pulling at her, tugging her waist till we were belly to belly, my erection trapped between us. Her hands pulled my face up from her breasts for a kiss which became a long series of kisses. She arched and un-arched her back, rubbing herself against the length of my shaft. My hands caressed everywhere, even down her legs to her feet, which didn't reach the floor. Then I moved her back on my lap and fingered her sex. She gasped through increasing broken kisses. I slid long, swimmer's fingers inside her, liking the way she moved in response. Then I withdrew them and rubbed her clitoris until she broke our kiss.

"Lift me," she said.

I slid hands under her butt and legs and lifted her, then lowered her onto me.

"Oh God. Oh God. God. Oh my God," she said, sliding down my shaft.

Like most women, she took all but the last two inches. I remembered that she took all of me in the hot tub, but we had had extended naked contact and relaxed foreplay. By comparison, this breakfast coupling had happened quickly.

I pulled chairs from either side to give her a place to rest her knees, but she pushed them away, straddling me with her feet off the floor, using her arms on my shoulders to pull herself up and down on me, then she hooked her feet over the top of my thighs to support herself, sometimes pausing to push down hard to take more of me.

"Oh God!" she gasped. "How do you fuck anyone with this monster?"

"Carefully at first."

"Tell me about it," she said, biting her lip, her eyes closing. "God!"

"Relax," I whispered in her ear, then bit the lobe.

"Okay," she sighed.

She pulled me into a kiss, relaxing in my arms. My hands moved slowly over her delicious body, front and back, but it was one hand moving one of her breasts in a slow circle that helped, plus her little movements. It took several minutes, but she slid all the way onto me. To the hilt.

"God I love being stuffed full of you," she whispered.

"I love being in you. You're so tight I can actually feel you."

"Thank God for Superslide."

"Mmm," I replied, caressing her breasts. "How big are you?"

"Me?"

"Your cup size?"

"Oh. Just a B... 32B... mosquito bites."

"I love them. They're prefect. Firm. Symmetrical. You have the most beautiful nipples I've ever seen."

She gasped, moaned and squeaked, moving, fucking me right there at breakfast while I moved her 32B's in soft circles. Crying out, she came and slumped against me, breathing heavily.

"Your turn," she whispered when she recovered.

"It's okay," I said.

"Really?"

"Really. I had three last night."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be. I love it when you fuck me. You can do me anytime you want. I want to save something for you for later."

She sighed and stayed on me for a few moments, then slid off. I let go of her. She pulled on her robe and walked away. I pulled on my baggy shorts and tee and finished breakfast.

My Olympic coaches were glad to see me in top form again, unhampered by stiff, sore upper back.

"What did you do?" one of them asked.

"Just relaxed and got a good night's sleep," I shrugged, which was true, "but the work the trainers did on me yesterday really helped, too."

"Good," he said.

I swam like an animal that day, like a bat out of hell, but felt like some powerful marlin or bluefin able to tear through the water at sixty miles an hour. Swimming always made me feel that way. Electric. Unbridled. Powerful. Liberated. Free. So did the attraction of a sexy woman who wanted me, pursued me, then bucked and romped on me, screaming out her orgasms. A woman I loved. Third Best.