She texted back: I’m having coffee with your mom at 11.
As I watched over his shoulder, he replied: So?
Can I get dressed in that attire after I get back from visiting your mother?she pleaded.
He texted back: Dress like the slut you are right fucking now if you want my dick again.
She immediately gave in with an apology: Sorry! I’ll do as I’m told.
“Wow, you really have her whipped,” I approved.
“She’ll do anything for my cock,” he admitted, as he texted: Good, because I may even have a third for you today to give you that DP you want so bad.
“I can’t wait to see how she responds to that,” I said, knowing the third was me.
She texted back: I can’t wait!!
“Holy shit, I expected some sort of resistance,” I said.
He said, “She’s admitted she has a fantasy of getting DP’d, filled air tight and gangbanged.”
“Any hints she is a cunt muncher too?” I asked.
“I never thought about asking,” he said.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to find out,” I said.
“If I tell her to, she will,” he said confidently.
“Will she do anything for your cock?”
“I’ve fucked her in her bedroom while her husband was downstairs, I’ve made her walk into the house with cum all over her face and I came in her ass before she went to church and I made her go without underwear,” he revealed.
“You really are a hot mother fucker, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” he smiled. “I’ll even get her to suck my cock and take it in the ass while you’re here.”
“No way.”
“And you can watch,” he said, picking up his phone.
“How?”
“I’ll hide my phone in the bathroom and you can go to a website I set up and watch. It will be a live feed but only for you,” he explained.
“Cool,” I nodded, as I added, “I should get ready for her to come over.”
“And I’ll get ready for her to come over too,” he said playfully, reaching for my phone.
She arrived dressed in a sundress and thigh highs. I too was in a sundress and thigh highs, both of us in impractical nylons for a hot afternoon.
Both of us wearing what Paul expected us to.
Only one of us knowing the other’s secrets.
She seemed nervous. Partly because she was dressed a little too skimpily for a coffee visit and I imagine she was concerned that Paul might somehow out her.
We chatted for twenty minutes about generic nothingness like we always did before I asked, “So why the thigh high stockings?”
“Pardon?” she asked.
“I can see the tops of your stockings,” I pointed.
“Oh, um, just dressing up for when Wally gets home,” she lied.
“I see,” I nodded.
I lifted up my dress to show her I was wearing some too and said, “I guess we both think alike.”
“And who are you dressed up for?” she asked.
“My new man,” I revealed.
“Do tell,” she said, instantly curious.
“He’s a lot younger than I,” I said.
“Really?” She asked, “how young is young?”
“Eighteen,” I admitted.
“No way,” she gasped and then joked, “you cradle robber.”
Takes one to know one, I thought to myself as her phone vibrated.
She looked at her phone and her face instantly paled.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Um, yeah,” she lied. “Just need to go to the washroom.”
“Okay,” I nodded, not asking why her phone had just told her to do that.