I once reached around her and grasped her not insubstantial breasts. She pointedly brushed my hands away. “They are not for you,” she firmly stated. It was a good example of her peculiar take on the world. She could quite comfortably rationalize us fucking but not accept that I could touch her breasts. Kissing was also a no-no, not that I ever really got in a position to do it. The only position I was familiar with was taking her from behind.
Once, feeling in a bold and masterful mood, I started fingering her arsehole. I got my whole thumb inside and she was making cooing sounds that indicated some pleasure to me. I let some saliva drop from my mouth onto the little date. I then withdrew from her pussy and placed the head of my cock at her crinkled little hole. She gasped and her head whipped around and she gave me a fairly fierce look. “The games up,” I thought but she hissed from behind clenched teeth and pressed her bum back at me.
With a bit of fumbling on my part I managed to get my shaft up her tight little ass. She was still staring at me in a rather intimidating fashion but I overlooked this and got into a good gut busting stride. God, what a sensation. It was like having a tight, lubed rubber band being moved up and down the length of my cock. She was grunting something about doing it “the naval way” but aside from occasional little yelps of momentary discomfort, she appeared to be really getting into it. I had learned that hard and fast was what she wanted and expected. From then on it became a regular feature of our encounters. She would initiate it by looking over her shoulder at me and hissing “naval”.
The only time we came close to being caught was both terrifying and fiercely erotic. We had both just come and we were still engaged, slumped over the chair, struggling for breathe. We heard the sound of the front door opening and the voice of her husband rung out, “Audrey?” Did we move quickly? For me; pants up, sit in chair, glass of juice and biscuit in hand. For her, smooth down skirt, panties tucked under pillows, move to kitchen. In strode Mr Suitor. “Ah, there you are dear. Hello Jimmy, finished the lawns again eh. Good work.” He started discussed some engagement they had on that evening as I sat nibbling at my biscuit and waiting for my heart rate to slow down. Mrs Suitor was facing away from me talking to her husband who was three or four yards away from her. He sniffed the air and said, “Rather odd smell in here. Unusual, can’t place it.”
Mrs Suitor started babbling about the new weed killer she had been using in the garden. Quick thinking indeed. As I watched them, my eyes bugged out. A nice fat dollop of my come was making its way down her inner leg. It was past the knee and still heading south. It was leaving a snail’s trail right down her leg. It came to rest on her ankle and sat their looking about as inconspicuous as a strobe light. She must have felt it because she shuffled around to place a chair between her and her husband. He prattled on for another minute and then sniffed the air again and left. She shuddered, threw me a weak smile, looked down at her leg, shuddered again and vanished to the bathroom.