Forty-Love

I play tennis every Saturday morning. I really enjoy the game, but lately have been feeling guilty about leaving my husband, John, home alone. We both have demanding jobs that leave us little time together, and our sex life has really suffered. But this particular Saturday, I decided to do something about that.

To prepare, the night before I had shaved my pubic hair clean. John always loves that, and I have to admit that I rather enjoy it too. When freshly shaved I am more aware of my sex, and it feels wonderful when he applies his expert tongue with no fur to get in the way. I think without the fuzz, he's willing to leave that tongue at work for an extended amount of time as well.

My husband always mentions how good I look in my tennis outfits. So as I was getting dressed for my Saturday morning match with John dozing in bed, I picked out his favorite outfit -- a white blouse and yellow skirt that ended way above my knees. These tennis outfits come with matching panties that are meant to be seen, sort of like what cheerleaders wear. Except instead of pulling the panties on, I stuck them inside my tennis bag.

I continued with the rest of my usual Saturday morning routine -- making the coffee and going outside to get the paper. It was a beautiful morning with plenty of warm sunshine, and I have to admit the soft breeze against my bare pussy felt wonderful. I bent down to pick up the paper before it occurred to me that my neighbors or any of the early morning joggers might get a view! I hastened to straighten myself back up and held an arm to my skirt as I rushed inside with a blush reddening my cheeks.

Once inside, John was pouring his first cup of coffee as I handed him the paper.

"You look cute, hon," he said as he topped off the mug with cream and sugar. "That's my favorite outfit."

"Thanks," I replied as I poured myself a cup of steaming brew. I turned my back to him and opened the fridge, bending down while pretending to dig around for something. As I did so, I could feel my skirt rising up over my bare ass, and hoped John had a good look.

"Honey," he laughed. "I think you forgot something when you got dressed this morning."

"What?" I inquired innocently.

"Your panties!"

I turned to him and looked down while slowly sliding my skirt up to reveal my bald pussy. "Oh my gosh, you're right!" I could see that my plan was having an affect as a bulge began to sprout within his boxers. "But I'm running late, so I guess I'll just have to play without them!"

"But won't someone be able to--"

I bolted out the door to the garage before he had time to finish. Once inside my car, I slid my "forgotten" panties back on and drove to the match. My plan was to slip the panties off once I was safely back in the garage, so John would think I played the whole match that way.

It was a good match--I won 6-4, 6-2, although I have to admit my mind was elsewhere. With the match over, I walked back to my car thinking about that delicious bulge in John's boxers. I slid into the car and started it up, but before I put it into drive I had a naughty thought: why wait 'til I get home for the fun to begin? I looked around to make sure no one was near, and quickly slid my panties off, stuffing them into my tennis bag. I pulled out of the lot and popped open the sunroof to enjoy the glorious summer morning. As I pulled onto the almost deserted rode, I couldn't help but think how little separated my pussy from prying eyes. I found myself slowly lifting my skirt up my thighs. Checking again to make sure no one was around, I finally bared all, savoring the warm sunshine on my bare pussy. I left my skirt up from that point all the way home, demurely lowering it only when a truck or SUV passed by. I made eye contact with several men on the road, thinking, "if only you could see inside this car!" I have to admit that I was soaking wet by the time I pulled into the garage.

When I walked in to the kitchen from the garage, John was busy making breakfast, and I jumped in to help.

"How was the match, hon?" he asked.

"Pretty good," I said, bending down to get a pan out of the cupboard and showing him my bare ass in the process. "I won 6-4, 6-2."

"And I can't believe you played with no panties! Did anyone say anything? Did they see your, uh, you know..."

"My pussy?" I asked brazenly. I faced him and lifted my skirt to once again reveal myself. I noticed the beautiful penis rising again under his boxers. "No, no one said anything, but I'm sure some lucky guys had a peek. You know, when I charged the net, or bent over to pick up a ball."

"I have an idea," he said, setting the egg carton on the counter. "Let's skip breakfast." He took me in his arms and gave me a passionate kiss while sliding one finger down to my wet slit.

"And I have an even better idea. Eat ME for breakfast." I took his hand and led him down to the floor, then lifted my skirt so I could spread myself over his eager mouth. His tongue went right to work, slurping at my juices and flicking my clit to bring me shuddering near orgasm within moments. I reached behind and slipped his hard dick out of his shorts and began stroking furiously. Even with my pussy covering his mouth, I could still here his moans, and stroked even harder. His hips jerked and I thought he was close to cumming. My feminine intuition was right on, as he moaned and thrashed and I felt jets of warm cum splash all over my hand. This was enough to set me off, and I arched my back and exploded in orgasm all over John's fantastic tongue.

John and I lay together on the kitchen floor for a few minutes before we slowly got up and enjoyed a fantastic omelet. Breakfast was delicious--but lunch was even better!