Annabelle Ch. 08

Big Tits

Author’s note: Warm appreciation to Kenji Sato again for his sterling work. This chapter concludes Annabelle’s raunchy week. I think the next chapters will take a look at how she started fucking, and stories from her past. Constructive criticism with suggestions of how to improve are always welcome. Just telling me they’re rubbish doesn’t help anyone, except perhaps giving vent to your emotions! Ford


Annabelle 08

Nick and I live just outside Oakhampton. It’s described as the gateway to Dartmoor. It’s not the biggest town in the universe, but it has lots of good shops and decent restaurants.

Nick and I were used to fine dining in London, at places with two or three Michelin stars and a bill to match. We would still do that, when we could, but some of the places Oakhampton had to offer, while lacking Mrs. Michelin’s attention, were still damn good.

We took our favourite seats in a rear corner of a French restaurant. We knew from experience, that not many of the other diners could see us there. We had picked this table before, when we were barely talking when we moved to Oakhampton seven years ago, when we didn’t want people to notice how ‘distant from each other’ we were. Tonight, its discretion would be important for an entirely different, more enjoyable, reason.

We talked animatedly over the superb food and wine. It was exactly like how we had been, when we were dating and in the first dozen years of our relationship. We were asking questions about each other and genuinely listening to the answers. We talked politics, which I was interested in, but not Nick, and cricket which he loved, but bored me to tears.

Not surprisingly, by the end of dessert, we got round to what had happened this week. Without that, we wouldn’t have been there, having such a good time. We had been holding hands all the time we weren’t using them for eating.

I gripped Nick’s hand especially hard as I asked, “You really have forgiven me for Lenny?”

Nick didn’t hesitate with his answer, his thumb stroking the back of my hand as he spoke, “The best thing that could have happened to us, darling. I wish it had happened years ago.”

“It could have,” I said, quietly. “Since we moved down here, I’ve had a few naughty moments.”

Nick smiled. “I’d love to hear about them sometimes. Just promise me, from now on, you won’t fuck anyone on your own. I want to be there.”

I smiled and ran my fingertip on the palm of his hand which I knew sent him up there. “Of course. I promise. And it’s really because you love to see me making love? Not that the other bloke doing it turns you on?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I love you and love seeing you being turned-on–by me, or someone else. Just like you are now.” His gaze fell down to my very erect nipples, which were very obvious through my almost-sheer blouse and bra.

“I’m so fucking wet; there will be a damp spot on the chair,” I said, quietly.

Nick smiled, then frowned as his teaspoon fell under the table. Before I could move, he had dropped down fully under the table from his side.

I had to choke back a gasp of surprise, as he pulled my legs apart, and plunged one finger inside my sopping cunt. I had to pretend I was choking, to hide the moan when his tongue began quickly circling on my clit, while his finger pumped in and out. Not only were we hard to see, but the table had long tablecloths down to the floor; which is why, of course, Nick had done what he had.

I was really getting into his finger and tongue action, when a male voice brought me back to reality.

“Are you okay, madam? You look a bit flushed.” The young waiter worried.

“I’ve got a bit of a migraine coming on, I think,” I managed to gasp out, making it look like the gasp was due to pain, and not the pleasure in my pussy:

“My husband has gone to the car to get my medication.”

The waiter looked concerned, but went off. Ten seconds later, so did I; spasming forward over the table, and putting my hand over my mouth to hide the scream of joy.

“Silly me,” Nick said, when he emerged back on his side of the table, with a Cheshire cat grin, and a face glazed with my cum. “I should have asked the waiter for a new spoon. Would that have been better?”

I was slumped back in my chair, trying to get my breath back. Beneath the table, my legs were still wantonly spread, my hairy pussy very hot and bothered. “You sod,” I smiled, weakly, Haramidere escort “I’ll get you back for that!”

“Promises, promises!” he smiled.

We left five minutes later. As soon as we were in the car, I was on him, kissing him hard and reaching for his cock.

“Let’s wait ’til we get home,” he said, through kisses. “You know I’m not keen on car sex.”

“Oh, I thought we were into trying new things,” I pouted, but backed off. Another idea then suddenly hit me. “We go back past the golf-course carpark, don’t we?”

“Yes, we certainly do,” Nick said, backing our Mercedes out of the carpark.

“Let’s stop there for a few minutes,” I said, trying to be matter-of-fact.

“What the heck for?” Nick asked, a quizzical-but-half-suspecting look on his face.

“We both like looking at the moon and stars,” I offered, lamely.

Nick looked at me, but didn’t say anything.

The golf course carpark by was set well back from the road. To get in, you had to punch in a code, given to members, which Nick and I were. The back of the park was under a set of trees.

As we went through the gate, I directed Nick to the back of the park. There were two cars there. Nick was getting more and more suspicious, but did what I said. It was ten o’clock by then, and definitely dark. Strangely though, one of the cars had its main lights full on. They were pointing at the rear of the car in front of it. The lights were definitely good enough to illuminate the woman, naked from the waist down, bending over the tailgate of a very posh SUV, being fucked by a short, rotund little man.

I had found this upmarket dogging site a couple of years ago. I had visited it three times, getting lots of cock and pussy from various people. Some were members of the club, and just kept it to themselves; not acting surprised at all, when they met you in the club. Others, were other wealthy and posh people from the town, who knew the secret, and had the code passed to them.

The woman being fucked was a local GP. The man fucking her, was her husband. The other couple who got out of the other car to watch, I didn’t know.

“Bloody hell,” was all that Nick could say. He had recognised the GP.

“It’s dogging, darling. I’ve been here a couple of times.”

He didn’t look at all surprised anymore by any of my revelations. He was more interested in the fact that I was getting out of the car.

“Come and sit in the back seat!” I said, huskily.

He came straight away. I got him to sit with legs extended, having moved the passenger seat right forward. Then without warning, I took my skirt off, dropped to my knees, undid his zip and began to work on his already-hard cock.

“Oh, fucking hell!” he said. I suspect it was both because of my forwardness and what and where it was happening.

I started with a different technique tonight. On my first contact, I fastened my lips round the shaft and pushed definitely, but not hard, down to the base. Then, holding him for a few seconds, slid back as slowly as I went down. I built this up into a steady rhythm, by which time his hips were moving in sync with me.

“That looks tasty,” a female voice said in my ear. “Can I have a taste?”

The woman from the couple from the car, was kneeling next to me. Her blouse was gone and two medium-sized tits already had splashes of cum on them. Glancing to my other side, the man with her was stroking his cock, getting hard again after its first explosion.

I didn’t hesitate.

“Be my guest,” I said with a smile, and passed Nick over. It only took a little shuffle for me to be in front of the other man, and without saying a word, I put my mouth on his crown. His cum tasted different from Nick’s, as every man’s did. It is true you can taste in cum what men have eaten recently. This man’s cum tasted faintly of curry.

He groaned, let go of his cock and put his hand on the back of my head.

“No, you don’t,” I said firmly looking at him, “I judge the pace and speed, not you. I will deepthroat you if I want, not you face-fucking me.”

“Sorry,” he said, genuinely apologetic, and then groaned, as I took half of his fellow in my mouth.

My fellow fellatrix and I, went to our work with a vengeance for the next few minutes. By the time both cocks spent their contents down our respective throats, both owners were sweating profusely.

I turned to look at my companion. İkitelli escort bayan Her lips were closed and cheeks slightly bulged. I knew why. I had my lips on her in a moment, and a snowball of Nick’s cum was passed to me. I sucked a little, then passed it back. It took a minute before my companion finally swallowed what was left.

“Very nice,” she said, in a soft accent.

“Do you want to fuck him?” I asked.

“Yes, please,” she grinned. “But, I think we’re going to have to wait a little while.” She looked past me, and both Nick and her paramour were still limp. The couple in the other car had cum while we were sucking, and had left.

“We could amuse ourselves,” I suggested, lying back on the ground, my legs spread.

“Now, there’s a thought. My name is Sheila, by the way.”

“Annabelle,” I replied, as I watched Sheila’s pants hit the floor. She had no knickers on. Her twat was bald.

“You shave or wax?” I asked.

“Wax,” she said, glancing down at herself, “and it fucking hurts!”

“Why do it then?” I said, running my fingers through my luscious growth.

“He doesn’t like hairy,”she said, looking a bit angrily at her partner.

“It’s not his body,” I said reasonably, pulling handfuls of my pubic hair up and out.

“Good fucking point,” Julie said. “Did you hear that?” She looked at her partner. He looked back, annoyed, but said nothing.

“Why don’t you come and taste a real hair pie?” I said, fluffing my bush. Julie was there quickly, her head in my crotch, and her pussy on my face.

I had, of course, eaten bald pussy before. All pussies still tasted divine, but I missed not having the smell woven into the bush. I also loved the feel of hair on my face and in my mouth. I knew many men apparently didn’t, and there were many famous women advocates of no hair. I didn’t get it, though, and wasn’t so sure that advocating a clean-shaven twat, was just reflecting what men thought women should look like. My strongly-held feminism didn’t take much to rear its head.

Hair or not, though, this pussy was very tasty. She had a strong, earthy smell and taste–tangy on the tongue. Her lips were short and fat, so I had to work to tease my tongue just inside, before replacing it with my finger. That slid in very easily, although she was tight.

‘Must be nice to fuck,’ I thought, as I encouraged her to reverse a couple of inches, so I could get to her clit.

It never ceased to amaze me how porn films distorted sex. In every porn film, doing female-female sixty-nine looked so easy. I just would like the producers of those films to try to lie under a female pussy, to try to get to the clit and finger it at the same time. It’s even harder for the woman on top–you try licking anything upside down!

Mind you, again my paramour had obviously had lots of practise. Her technique was to bend her head right down and use her mouth as much as her tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” I mumbled, “that’s great!”

“Not bad yourself,” she panted, through a mouthful of hair. “God, you’re fucking hairy and I love it!” She went back to work, with renewed vigour.

But a second later, a pair of hands were lifting her gently, but firmly, away.

“What the fuck?” we both said.

Our husbands had recovered and had very hard and erect cocks, and, obviously, were impatient to use them. My lover was moved to her hands and knees and my husband got behind and started fucking her hard. My paramour’s man got between my thighs and his aversion to hair pie, clearly didn’t stop him ramming his hard-on straight into me.

Given his troglodyte views about controlling his partner’s body, I wasn’t surprised when the fuck proved to be all about him. He ploughed on, irrespective of me trying to meet his thrusts. There was no variation or subtlety, just ramming away. After a couple of minutes, he groaned and I felt the condom expand a bit. He pulled out straight away, and I was pretty mad, when I saw a look of arrogant self-satisfaction on his face, as if he’d given me the best fuck ever.

“You’ve got somewhere to go in a hurry?” I said, trying, but failing, to keep an edge of sarcasm from my voice.

He looked genuinely bewildered. “I thought all women like it hard and fast. Sheila does.” He glanced over at Sheila. Nick was, at the moment, moving very slowly taking himself almost out before pushing back, just as slowly. The cries of joy Escort Çapa Sheila was making showed that she either clearly loved both, or her hubby and her weren’t long for this world.

There was though no self-awareness in this prick.

“Tell her I’m waiting for her in the car,” he said grumpily, and stomped off. I moved over to them, and lying on the ground, moved under Sheila to lick and suck first her nipples, and then her clit. This drove her even wilder, and both her and Nick came quickly.

Sheila rolled onto her back, breathing hard, when Nick pulled out.

“Christ, he’s a good shag, your hubby,” Sheila panted, “fancy sharing him?”

“Not on his own,” I said, “But we’d be up for something together. Without him, though.” I glanced at their car.

“Don’t worry,” Sheila said bitterly, as she got dressed. “We’re done after tonight. He made me come here. I didn’t want to.”

Seeing the look of worry, on mine and Nick’s face, that we had made her do something she didn’t want to, she smiled quickly in reassurance. “You were great,” she said. “It was seeing you two doing it, clearly because you fancied the socks off each other, that made me want to do it with you. That other couple were doing it for show, getting their rocks off on people watching them. I suppose that’s the point of dogging, but it’s not for me. I won’t be back.”

She paused, and then smiled. Nick and were still naked from the waist down and now standing next to each other:

“Now I’ve got you two.” One hand stroked my fanny, the other Nick’s cock. After an exchange of mobile numbers, we were all gone.

We went straight to bed when we got back and spent the next half hour in gloriously slow lovingmaking. We did all the foreplay with fingers, mouths and tongues almost getting each other off, but not quite, until we finally did come as a result of a missionary fuck, that took at least twenty minutes.

“Would you do that dogging thing again?” Nick asked, after we had recovered our breath. I was lying beside him, my leg over his waist, my hairy wetness against his thigh.

“No,” I said, after thinking. “I’d like to swing again, but I think swinging is slightly safer and more tasteful than dogging. I don’t think we’d get the gift Sheila turned out to be, with swinging.”

“I agree,” Nick said.

“What do you fancy doing tomorrow?” he asked, beginning to sound sleepy.

“A bit of that and a bit of this,” I said, and began to wank his almost-soft cock.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, Mrs Andrews,” he said, laughing. “I thought we could go looking at old buildings like we used to, and find a decent Sunday pub for lunch.”

“As long as they both got accessible toilets, so I can fuck your brains out,” I whispered into his ear, tightening my grip on his cock. But this time, I was fighting a losing battle. Not even a tremor resulted from my ministrations.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Nick said, gently taking my hand away, and turning to face me, putting his arms around me. “The soul yearns, but the body’s fucked!”

He kissed me gently and for a long time. “Thanks for being ours again, Mrs. Andrews.”

“Soppy git!” I laughed, with tears in my eyes. “I love you, you daft.”

The next day, we did exactly what Nick had suggested. It was lovely to find that reconnection in each other with sex. By the end of the day, I was convinced, and so was Nick, when I asked him, that we were back loving each other in every way. We started to talk about plans for holidays and things we could do together.

And yes, that included our sex lives. We only used tongues on each other that day, as I was sore again. ‘Bloody nice, though!’

And that was how our extraordinary week finished, my mouth on his cock and his tongue on my clit. A week ago, the chance of that happening was as likely as Boris Johnson and Donald Trump being descried as competent and honest, and Vladimir Putin as caring and humanitarian!

From Annabelle:

All this happened back in May this year; it’s now September. A few more slightly interesting things have happened since then, but when I come back in a short while, I think the first few chapters will look back to my sexual beginning, and some highlights of the years. Think of it, as a retrospective album of my greatest hits. It’s been a real pleasure telling you of my getting back together with Nick, and the starring role of an apparently shy nerd, who is now doing astrophysics and astronomy in Cambridge, by the way! Clever little bastard! And I bet, he’s already started introducing that gorgeous monster between his legs, to between the legs of soon-to-feel-very-satisfied women! And the odd male mouth, as well, I bet! Is not life great!!!



Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir