Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 10

As he watched David stroking her stubbly pubes, Laurence could well imagine the effect upon a lad in his late teens that a neighbour like Joan would have. To see flashes of breast or thigh -- or hope to see them -- would be a powerful thing. And to be given an occasional ride to college or work by her and to have the body for which one lusted every day just inches away would be almost a torment for an eighteen or nineteen year old.

Then suddenly to find oneself on a blind sexual date with that very woman, and to find the long pent-up desire consummated beyond the wildest of dreams... Laurence fully understood David's enraptured gaze as he watched the young man cup her bared breast and rock it up and down, savouring its size, its weight, its half-firm and half-soft consistency.

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"It would be my pleasure to fuck you, Mrs. Martin. Or may I call you Joan this time?"

"Call me whatever you like," she murmured. "As long as you satisfy me with your big, hard young cock!"

Laurence gazed on as David stepped closer to her and kissed her on the mouth. He stared fixedly as their lips moulded together. David flicked his fingertip across her nipple several times, and Laurence watched it stiffen and swell.

Joan was still sitting but reclining a little against the headboard of the bed. David knelt on all fours and kissed the soft, sweetly scented skin of her neck and moved his face to her throat and down her slightly lined skin and to the top of her cleft. He poked out his tongue and licked her soft orbs then rolled her breasts outwards and pressed his face against her sternum, letting them come back to cradle his face. He gave a low grunt of pleasure as he kissed and sucked on her skin and her semi-firm breasts.

Despite having had sex with her several times since their first blind date, the novelty was still strong -- Mrs. Martin his sexy, former, seemingly unattainable neighbour, half naked on the bed welcoming his attentions. Mrs. Martin -- the mere thought of her had been the fuel for countless jackings off over the years. Mrs. Martin -- the slightest flash of thigh or breast had excited him for weeks on end. Every moment with her was now laden with delightful fulfilment and exceeded his wildest imaginings. Added to this was her genuine niceness -- he could think of no better term -- and, generally speaking, her respectability (despite slightly teasing clothing) in stark contrast to her shameless behaviour right now. He guessed it was most men's dream to have a true lady who at times acted like a slut without actually becoming one.

David swept his mouth over each breast, pressing against her squashy flesh and releasing it, then brushed his mouth over the fabric of her corset. He had never encountered such a garment for real, though he had often seen them in softcore porn and fantasised about women he knew wearing such things. And -- at this point he glanced up at her veiled, smiling face -- he had, of course, often tried to imagine this very lady in stockings and suspenders with a basque or corset. Now he needed to imagine no more.

The fabric was smooth and warm against his lips, yet firm and stiff. He ran his hands over it and tickled the skin of her belly between the criss-crossed laces. He swept his mouth back and forth over the corset and licked the strips of exposed skin where the laces crossed over her belly and midriff. His hand cupped her breast and pawed it, not roughly, but not tenderly either. He was highly aroused.

Both from the crack in the open door and in their reflections in the mirror Laurence watched their passionate foreplay, reminding himself that the woman before him was supposedly his wife, the room was supposedly his honeymoon suite, and that the bed where this foreplay was being indulged in was the very bed where, the previous evening, he himself had had sex with her. After she had been sullied by the young man before him.

He found it distasteful, but of course the shamefulness of it added to its thrill. And her younger companion was certainly enjoying himself, he thought wryly...

David was kneeling over Joan at ninety degrees to her. He slowly kissed and nuzzled every inch of the white corset and ran his lips along its bottom edge. A shudder of pleasure shot through him as he felt Joan tug his shirt free of his trousers and run her fingers inside to caress his back. He dragged his tongue along the bare skin below her corset, from her hip to the rounded, cutaway edge along her belly and down again to her other hip. He poked his tongue under the hard fabric. It was not an erotic spot of her body but it felt naughtily nice to be exploring inside her corset.

Laurence saw Joan's hand emerge from inside her young lover's shirt, and her highly polished wedding ring drew his gaze. He watched her hand glide over David's bum cheek, lingering there a few moments and squeezing it through his trousers, then sliding down to cup and knead his balls. He heard David groan and Laurence closed his eyes and squeezed his own balls, imagining his hand to be Joan's...

David brushed his lips over Joan's stockingtops, gazing at the sexy lace trim between her bare skin and the shiny white nylon of her stockings proper. He planted kisses against the lace, his ears homing in on the scratchy sound and his mouth savouring the slight roughness. He turned his face sideways, looking up her corset-clad body to her veiled face. He kissed and licked her soft, smooth skin above her stockingtop then turned his face the other way and kissed the sheer, warm nylon of her stocking. He caressed her other thigh. Joan gave little whimpers and murmurs of delight and encouragement.

Laurence could not see everything in detail. He was glad. Besides, it was arousing to have to use his imagination to a certain extent. In the mirror he saw David take her suspender between his lips and chew and tug gently on it. Laurence felt a bit less ashamed now. David clearly had fetishes of his own, which made Laurence's seem less sordid.

Joan's hand was working rhythmically between David's parted thighs, and David groaned at the sensation. She alternated between gentle strokes and caresses, and firmer squeezes. He unfastened his trousers, carefully lifted his knee and shuffled astride her, but facing her legs and feet, in a near sixty-nine position over her.

Laurence watched, intrigued, as Joan eased David's trousers and boxers down part way. She stared at his well toned thighs and at his bum cheeks. She kneaded them and leaned forward to kiss and lick them, planting slow kisses and flicking her tongue over them.

Laurence avoided giving David's erection more than a passing glance, but Joan slid her hand over David's balls and Laurence watched as she played with them. Her veil still covered her face -- but most of her body was exposed!

David rocked back and forth and in little circles to enhance Joan's caresses, and lowered himself over her fleshy legs. He kissed each in turn through the warm, slippery nylon of her stockings. He dragged his lips from just below her knee and down to her calf and ankle, then back. At the same time he took her stockinged feet in his hands and massaged them through their sheer covering.

Joan was glad that she had alternated between penetrative sex, oral sex and hand relief, wanting to avoid getting sore. But David's eagerness transmitted itself to her, and she longed to have him inside her once more.

Laurence watched as David gingerly clambered to one side and knelt close to her. Laurence watched them kiss ardently, watched each mouth in its sensuous move against its counterpart, watched each pair of lips move and each tongue flicker and push its companion. Between them they managed to shove his trousers and boxers off with hardly an interruption to their smooching.

Laurence's stomach was churning with anticipation and indecision. It had been left to him to decide whether to join them -- as the cuckolded husband -- or not. It was one thing to imagine such a scene, but quite another to take part in it for real.

David rolled and caressed her breasts and played with her hard nipples as they kissed. He was aware that he was being watched by Laurence but blocked it out, concentrating his energy and all his senses on his sexy, mature, long-lusted for lover.

He was self conscious about speaking to her with Laurence listening in, so he kissed her neck, whispering softly.

"Oh Joan. You're so, so sexy. I adore your tits, your legs, your... everything. I swear you're the sexiest woman I've ever known and I never thought in a million years I'd have the chance to... to screw you..."

Joan watched as he ran his hand over her corset-clad midriff, again teasing her skin between its laces before running over her dark heart shaped bush and down to her hood and crinkled lips.

Laurence watched, too as David's fingers stroked her pouting labia then eased one finger inside. Joan gave a little croon of delight and moved her pelvis in response. With a wave of arousal Laurence reminded himself that it was supposedly his own wife he was watching being fingered and shafting a young penis with her hand, it was his wife's breasts that were being played with by her illicit, half-her-age lover...

"Give me three fingers, darlin'. But not for long. I want to feel your big, hard, young prick inside me..." she said huskily.

Laurence blushed at her crude talk, and watched as Joan wrapped her ring-adorned hand around David's shaft and pumped slowly up and down. He saw a bead of pre-cum appear and dribble onto her thumb.

David thrilled in the feel of her warm, slick clasping tightness as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Although he could not see in full, Laurence gazed at the movement of David's hand thrusting between her plump thighs. He looked, too, at the sensuous swaying of her breasts as she gently pumped David's length.

She swung to one side and from the bedside cabinet she took a condom that she had already unwrapped. Laurence followed her gaze to the young man's throbbing erection as she slid it on.

"Fuck me, David. Fuck me. I want it, darlin'! I need it. Fuck me now!"

Laurence almost gasped at the sight and at her words -- the words of his own alleged wife. He dismissed the last remnants of indecision and simply decided to hold off for another moment or two.

David stood up and walked to the foot of the bed, his condom-covered erection standing completely upright. Laurence switched his gaze to Joan. Her face was still veiled in a parody of modesty and virtue. He saw David's gaze rove all over her. He was hardly surprised at the young lad's burning desire for her. Despite being twice his age she was attractive -- both bodily and facially -- and somehow oozed sex appeal even when modestly dressed.

But of course she was anything but modestly dressed now.

David made himself delay just a little longer, keen to build her anticipation and his. He ran his eyes all over her breasts hanging down somewhat over the top of her corset. Her nipples now stood out boldly. Her slightly fleshy legs were bent at the knee, and he followed each up from her foot and ankle up and to the top of the stocking. Her stockings shone alluringly. The lacy tops looked gorgeous, and he looked at her slack, white suspenders.

Her thighs were parted and his gaze rested on her shaved pussy, the pouting, crinkled lips glistening with the moisture of her excitement -- the excitement that he had generated. He followed the line of her wiry, stubbly pubes from the tail of the heart to which she had cropped them up along and round the double curve and down to its base again. The base seemed like an arrow pointing down to her hood and her slit. At one and the same time it spoke of romantic love and sexual invitation. An invitation to him to enter the moist, hairless flaps into the warm, clasping tunnel inside...

David ran his eyes again over the white corset and the strips of belly skin it revealed, then over her fabulous breasts and nipples and up to her veiled face.

He felt a powerful surge of lust as he saw her left hand slide sensually down over her corset and trace around her heart-shaped bush. Then, to his amazement she placed her fingers astride her puffy, pouting lips and eased them open. Never, he thought, had a true bride looked so wanton in lingerie so seemingly virginal yet provocative, and with her face still veiled in mock modesty. He grinned as it occurred to him that she was parting her pussy lips while still veiling her facial lips.

David could hold back no more.

With a suddenness (though without roughness) that took her by surprise and elicited a gasp from her (and almost from Laurence as he watched), David grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards where he stood at the foot of the bed. Joan gave a low laugh and shuffled into position at the end of the bed so that he could enter her. She lay back but slid her parted thighs outside his as he stood, and planted her feet on the floor.

Joan's heart was hammering with desire, a desire fuelled by the evident fixation on her that her young lover felt and that he was almost overwhelmed to be fulfilling again. She glanced into the mirror and saw the same longing in Laurence's face as he watched, rubbing his obvious bulge through his trousers. She wondered if he would remain there or join in.

She gazed up at David's eager expression, then down as, holding his hard manhood in his hand, he slid it into her.

He began to thrust slowly and deeply. Joan braced her feet firmly against the floor. She alternately pushed her pussy against his probing shaft and pulled slightly away, at the same time gyrating her hips slowly, drawing him deeper and gently tugging his manhood from side to side.

Her whole body was rocking with the sensual movement, and her breasts rippled and surged deliciously. David pressed one hand gently down on her corset-covered belly and with the other hand he mauled her breast a little roughly, but not enough to hurt her.

Joan whimpered with delight, and David began to let out guttural grunts as he drove into her with slow, deep strokes.

It was the moment that Laurence had been longing for and dreading at the same time.

He swung the bathroom door open and walked into the bedroom. To see his "bride" welcoming the gropes and penetrative thrusts of a supposed stranger at close quarters was shocking, embarrassing, yet deliciously arousing.

Joan's head turned, and for the first time she lifted her veil.

"Lau... Laurence?" she asked. Her voice showed no evidence of shock or shame, simply surprise that he had returned to the room -- though, of course, in reality she had been expecting it.

"Joan? What... what are you doing, my dear? And who the hell is this?"

David withdrew his erection and stood looking genuinely embarrassed.

"Who's this, you say? Oh, this is David, darlin'. He's from room service. And as for what we're doing -- well, it should be obvious. We're fucking, darlin'. As you can't fully satisfy me I thought I'd screw someone else."

Her words and her tone of voice were deliciously matter-of-fact, as if it was normal for a bride to seek satisfaction with another man in her honeymoon suite.

"B... but we're married, Joan!" Laurence stuttered. He ran his eyes over David and noted the condom-coated erection, dwindling just slightly, glistening with moisture -- the very pussy juice that had coated his own condom-coated erection not much earlier.

"Yes, Laurence, I know. But I have needs, darlin'. And right now I'm as randy as hell and nearly coming. You can stay and watch what it is I really need, if you like, darlin' -- maybe it will help you to satisfy me without me needing to cuckold you. Or if you prefer, you can leave us to it for the next few minutes -- David and I won't last much longer. But as I say, if you want to know what we're doing, it's... this..."

Again her blasé tone aroused him.

Laurence's eyes bulged as he watched her half-sit and, with her ring-adorned hand, guide David's erection back into her. He stared, entranced, at the rhythmical sliding back and forth of her body as David resumed his thrusts. Laurence gazed down -- as did David -- at the obscene sight of man-flesh sliding in and out of her shaved pussy, burying itself deep and part- withdrawing again. A soft, rude squishing sound accompanied the thrusts. And again her breasts began to surge and sway in time. He saw David cup her ripe left breast and knead it. Laurence gazed at her right breast as he reached his own hand down to it. He pinched and tweaked her hard nipple and stooped to chew it and tug it with his lips. He glanced at David's hand squeezing her yielding orb next to his face, and glanced down at his quicker thrusts into Joan's pussy, pointed to by the tip of her heart-shaped bush.

"Take your trousers down if you want, Laurence, darlin'. I know I'm a slut, but if you like I could take your big thick cock in my mouth-lips while my pussy lips are closed around David's..." she gasped as her body rocked back and forth against the bedcovers.

Both Laurence and David were taken aback at her explicit language.

"Do it, Laurence! Get your bloody prick out and let me suck it. And if you want you can shoot your load over my tits -- or even my face if you like. Do it, darlin'! Do it!" she urged.

Laurence unfastened his trousers and pushed them down his chubby legs. He shoved his underpants down, too. Then he knelt on the bed close to Joan's face. She reached across and guided his throbbing end to her mouth. He looked at her glistening wedding ring as she squeezed his length with her hand and licked and sucked it. Her mouth looked very rude clamped around it as she rocked along it. He groaned.

He admired David's staying power, but it was obvious that he was close to the edge now -- and that Joan was, too. Laurence saw her right hand stray to her hood and begin to rub. He nudged her hand away and replaced it with his own.

He felt horribly conscious that his finger was almost against David's thrusting penis, but he was anxious to contribute to Joan's orgasm, and carried on. He felt his own climax begin to loom and withdrew his erection from Joan's mouth. He gazed down at it, glistening and shining with her saliva. He began to rub it, pointing towards her swaying breast and staring at it and at her pussy with David's condom-covered penis driving in and out.

Then her plea of a few moments earlier flooded back to him.

"DO IT, LAURENCE! GET YOUR PRICK OUT AND LET ME SUCK IT. AND IF YOU WANT YOU CAN SHOOT YOUR LOAD OVER MY TITS -- OR EVEN MY FACE IF YOU LIKE. DO IT, DARLIN'! DO IT!"

Blushing hotly with excitement and shame, Laurence jerked his hand faster and harder. It was shocking to be doing such a thing so near a woman's face, let alone with another bloke watching. But the close-up sight and the rutting sounds of her being taken by her other lover drove Laurence on. He swung round to her now unveiled face that, like the rest of her was rocking in time with David's deep, hard thrusts. She smiled at Laurence and raised her eyebrows saucily. Then she closed her eyes, quite tightly, to shield them as he neared his ejaculation.

"Go on, Laurence darlin'! Shoot it over your cheating wife-slut's face! Give me your hot, full sticky load! Spurt your spunk over your nasty wife! Do it! Do it!" she commanded.

Laurence groaned with arousal at her lewd plea. He rocked his hand firmer and faster, watching her pace increase.

David gazed on, too. Like Laurence he found it all a heady mix of shame embarrassment, shock and intense arousal. He thrust faster into her, watching her face and Laurence's rapid jerking movements just inches from it. He watched the kneading movements of her breasts under his own and Laurence's hands, and the rude frigging movement of Laurence's chubby finger on her hood and clit.