tagLoving WivesAn Emergency Trip to Florida

An Emergency Trip to Florida


I'm sorry if this episode was delayed but I've been down south tending to my ailing mother. I'm back home now but I must continue to write and get this all out of me. Thanks for the wonderful support you have given to me.


It started on a Sunday morning at around 5:30. My cell phone was ringing, but ringing somewhere off in the distance. Or was this a dream I was having that suddenly took an illegal left turn? I came out of my sleep when the cell phone began to ring again. I just up and trotted over to my desk to retrieve it. I looked at, but without my glasses and my sleepy state, I could hardly make it out. Then it stopped ringing.

I looked closely at the little screen as I stumbled to the john. The caller was my mother! My mother down in Florida! My elderly and ailing mother down in Florida! I peed and washed my face and took the phone to call her back when it began to ring again.

"Hello Ma?"

"Hi, son. I want you to do me a favor?"

"Sure, Ma. Whatever. What is it?"

"Will you call you father and ask him to call me because I don't know where he is. He told me he was going out to get something and he never got back."

I paused.

"Ma? Run that by me again? Did you say Dad didn't come back?"

"Yes. He said he'd come right back," and she hung up.

I looked at myself in the mirror to see if maybe I was still in a dream. I washed my face again. I looked at the phone. Considering that my Dad died about 5 years ago, I was somewhat shaken, to put it very mildly. My mother was disoriented and hallucinating. I had better go down there immediately to see what was going on.

I showered and went back to my bedroom to pack a bag, get dressed and run to the airport. I turned on my computer and padded off to the kitchen to brew up some coffee. This was a perfect morning an extra strong cup of French Roast.

While it was brewing, I toasted half a bagel (with a shmear) figuring that I needed some sustenance before this day began. Thus supplied, I padded back to the computer to see the flight schedule and buy a ticket. I also called my mother. No answer.

The first flight that I could buy was at 12:50 pm so I had plenty of time. The airport was only about a half hour away so I had plenty of time to stew in the situation. When I finally lifted off, I was prepared for anything. My bag was packed for a couple of weeks with a few Tommy Bahama shirts (just in case things weren't all that bad and I had to spend a few days and because you never know. Know what I mean?). I checked my bag and carried only my computer bag onto the plane and found that my seat was near the window. The other two passengers next to me were an elderly married couple. I slept throughout the entire three hour flight awakening as we made our descent into West Palm Beach Airport.

I hurried out of the terminal and grabbed a cab to my mother's house off Military Trail. I called her. No answer. Her house was a nice unattached house in a nice retirement community by a nice lake with a nice circulating fountain in the middle of the lake that always kept me awake all night whenever I slept there and kept me going to the john to pee all night... In a few minutes, we were pulling up.

I rang the doorbell. I rang it again. I waited and rang it again. Suddenly, the door slowly creaked with the sound of locks being turned. The door slowly opened and my mother, very thin and very frail, looked at me.

"Son? What are you doing here?"

I walked in and put down my bags.

"Mom, I've been trying to call you all day since I spoke to you this morning."

"I didn't speak to you this morning."

I stared at her.

"...and, you know, if I don't put in my hearing aids, I can't hear that phone...it's not loud enough...or maybe I just need new batteries for my hearing aid...but I just put in new batteries last week. So, what are you doing here?"

I kissed her.

"Nice to see you, too, Ma."

I led her into the kitchen and sat her at the table. I put up some coffee and sat down next to her.

"Which coffee did you take? The decaf? I have decaf. It's good for you."

"Ma, do you remember calling me this morning at 5:30?"

"I didn't call you. I haven't spoken to you. But I'm okay. I didn't hurt myself too badly. The paramedic said I'll be okay."

"Ma, what are you talking about? What paramedics?"

Over the course of the next hour, my mother, in her rambling, disassociated way, told me how she had fallen in a parking lot and that when she came to, paramedics were taking her to the hospital.

"...but they gave me an MRI and the doctor said I was okay and...where's your father?"

What? The story was getting stranger by the moment. I decided to call her doctor immediately. After fifteen minutes of story and whining and misery and all sorts of business, I was able to get his phone number. I called his office and was able to wangle an appointment first thing the next morning.

I'll spare you the absurd details of my evening, night, and morning with her. I'll spare you the nonsensical events that took place. When the doctor told me that the problem was the cocktail of prescribed drugs she was taking, I was relieved. At least now I could understand her state of mind. I was glad that it was not Alzheimer's and I told the doctor.

"Oh, no. It still might be Alzheimer's but first we have to detox her before we can test for that!"

It astonished me to hear those words about her said in such a cold and clinical way. He wrote down a series of instructions explaining the weaning schedule of the different drugs. The drugs included a little Vicotin, a little Zoloft, a little Percoset, a bit of oxycotin, a little Benedryl, some Singulair...you get the picture. No wonder she was somewhere circling deep space! He also told me that she'd pulled several muscles in her shoulder and might even have a rotator cuff problem but that it was healing. He also told me to buy her lots of food and to start fattening her up. He also suggested physical therapy. What a guy.

When I got her home, I called my office and explained that I would be away for about two weeks. I called her Health Care Provider and arranged for a few shifts of aides as well as a visiting physical therapist. I realized that I might have to sell her house and move her into an Assisted Living facility. But first we had to wean her off the drugs.

The next week was very tough. She drove everybody crazy. In the first few days, I discovered that her hallucinations took place in the early morning when she would walk around in a daze. As the drugs were halved and then, in some cases, eliminated, her lucid moments would increase. Not to the point where one would consider her pleasant, mind you.

Now let me just say this about my mother. I love her because she is my mother but not because of the person she is. I have never liked my mother. As a young boy, I was beaten viciously by both my parents but my mother's beatings seemed to have an extra amount of wildness and venom. Later in life, after the births of my children, I grew to forgive her. Even then, she was still not a nice person. She was envious and annoying, she was racist and vain...I could go on and on but this is a short story and not Moby Dick. As we weaned her, her natural meanness began to surface again and I knew I had to find some escape. I called an old friend and one afternoon, we hooked up and I scored some weed. As I had drunk all the cognac in the house, this was a godsend.

By the end of the first week, I realized that there was little more for me to do. I'd set things in motion and now I was a little lost and with time on my hands. One night, after she and the aide had gone to sleep, I surfed the web for some porn and jerk-off stories. This was an escape I really needed.

I took a look at the local Craig's List and answered a few ads from some local women and a couple of couples. I figured that I had one chance in hell to hook up for some sex but then again, I did bring my Tommy Bahama shirts and you never know. Right?

Then I found some stories and whacked myself, spanked the monkey and spooged all over my handkerchief. I slept well.

Days were getting very weird. After an hour after med time, she'd get wacky but not good wacky. All the rest of the time she was annoying. Everything had to be said three or four times because, even with the hearing aids, she couldn't hear shit and when she finally heard what I said or replied, she'd admonish

"Don't yell! I can hear you perfectly well. Go comb your hair, you look like one of...one of...oh, you know what I mean..."

I was starting to think like her and it was frightening. And then I received an email response.

"Hi. Got your response to our CL ad. We're in Jupiter, about a half hour from you. I'm 50, she's 40. We're very discreet but lately have been fantasizing about a threesome with a stranger. We're both bi-curious but she much more than me. I must meet you first. Send a picture(s) and phone number."

First chance I had, I emailed him several pix (face, full body, hard cock. You know, the usual) and my cell. A few minutes later, I got a response.

"Nice pix. Will call at noon."

It was 11:30. I made up some story to my mother and the aide and received a shopping list for an answer. I was driving north on Military when he called me. I pulled into a parking lot and parked.

"Hi. Peter here.....nice pictures...let's meet somewhere for a drink."

We arranged to meet at a bar in Riviera Beach. Fifteen minutes later, I pulled in. As I got out of the car, I heard my name and looked up to see Peter walking toward me. He was about the same height, balding, beard and moustache, similar build (good but not great)...wow, he was like me!

"Hey. How about we go into my car for a few minutes? I have to get back to my office soon."

We got into his Escalade and spend a few minutes talking about nothing much. He had a partially smoked cigar in the ashtray that he went to relight when he asked me if I wanted to smoke a joint instead. Duh.

"You seem pretty cool. What is your wife like? We haven't talked at all about her."

"My wife is amazing. I am very protective of her and that's why we're meeting. She's gorgeous and smart and what a body. A long time ago, she was in Playboy. She still has that body."

I got hard visualizing this and he noticed it. Suddenly, he reached over and felt my bone through my pants.

"She does the same to me. I think she'll like you."

We continued to talk for a while and then he said that he had to go. He suggested that I meet them at a restaurant in Jupiter for dinner tonight at seven.

From the moment I left that parking lot, through Publix aisles, back to mom's, lying some more, getting spiffy and driving back to Jupiter, I was hard. As I was going commando, it was hard to discreetly conceal it and after a while, I didn't care.

She was all he said she was. Wow. She was shy. What eyes. What a body! Commando time again. How uncool but ah, what the fuck. Pete did most of the talking, including:

"Nice Shirt." (I told you, didn't I?)

Her name was Valerie. Val. Wow. She had blow job lips.

Peter got me to start talking about my business – music and entertainment and internet – and, fortunately and only briefly about my reasons for being down here. After two bottles of wine and a superb meal, Peter excused himself for the bathroom and Val leaned into me.

"I know you want to fuck me. It's cool. I can get into this. But if I asked you to suck Peter's cock, would you?"


"I want to see Peter suck your cock, too. He's never done it. I want us to help him do it. I want to watch."


Peter returned and settled the bill. Val suggested I follow them to their place. It was only a few minutes away and it was large and beautiful and fronting the Intracoastal. I followed them into the living room. I'd follow them anywhere.

The walls of the living room held dozens of modeling photos, some nude. The Playboy shots were there. An Esquire. Very impressive. What a body.

"You're drinking...?"

"Cognac, thanks."

"Hennessy XO, good?"


He also lit up three spliffs and handed one to me. Val got things rolling.

"Tell me a dirty story. Turn me on."

I told the story about my first time with another couple as well as my first bi experience. (See my earlier Literotica submission, "My First Double Header" in two parts, under the author's name "fendelle"). It turned both of them on. While I was relating it, Peter put some porn up on the big plasma. As I got into the meat, so to speak, Val removed her dress and sat in her red lacy bra and matching thong lightly touching herself all over.

Enough. I was nearing the end when I stood up and slowly stripped. Big deal. Shirt. Shoes. Pants. Naked. My stood in front of them blocking the screen and rubbing my cock in their faces as I wrapped up the story.

Val applauded. "Great story. You get a prize."

She pulled me close and gave my cock a sloppy wet kiss. She then placed my cock in her ample cleavage and, like the bra she was still wearing, pushed it up. And down. And up.

All the while, Peter watched intensely. Val's deep violet eyes watched his eyes watching us. Her raven hair brushed my chest as she stroked me. "Is it okay, Peter...do you like it...take off my bra, please."

He moved closer and reached behind her. As her large breasts dropped, I reached down and cupped those 38D beauties and I felt like a red hot dog in a top-sliced toasted bun. She pulled away from my and kissed her husband, her tongue rolling around his mouth. She whispered something to him that I couldn't quite make out and I felt his hand gingerly touch my shaft.

She turned back to me and I felt him feed me into her lips. She sucked on the head as he slowly stroked me and touched my balls. Then he pulled his hand away quickly and she turned again to kiss him and whisper to him. I used the moment to slip down to my knees and spread her legs apart. I inhaled her light scent wafting from her thong and I leaned forward to nuzzle her camel toe. I pressed my nose into the slit and rubbed her clit with it.

She pushed me away and suggested we get more comfortable. She took our hands and led us to the bedroom.

The bedroom was like a girl's room, all lace and ruffles. I couldn't get a sense of a male ever having lived there but I really didn't care. I wanted her body even if I had to share it with teddy bears. She crawled on the bed and lay flat on her back. I crawled between her legs and pried her legs apart feeling some resistance. But as I placed my lips on her labia, she seemed to instantly melt and juice up. I licked up and down with strong strokes as my tongue sank deeper within her lips. She hardly moved and just seemed to be passively enjoying my efforts.

Peter stood behind me and softly stroked my testicles. It, too, seemed passive and restrained. Although I had no intention of taking the lead, it appeared someone had to do it and that someone was me. I sat up and took Peter by the hand leading him to his wife's head. He got the message and stripped down, his smallish penis standing out erect. It couldn't have been more than four or five inches long and not very fat, sort of like a thick pencil or maybe a crayon. I moved between Val's legs and every so slowly slipped my dick into her wet snatch. She pushed against me and seemed to enjoy this feeling of fullness. She turned her head to Peter and began to delicately lick him. I was sliding long strokes into her tunnel and watching them. Every time I reached bottom, she pushed her bottom up to meet me. I knew that she was loving this by her little gasps and moans that slipped out. I put my head down into her fabulous rack and licked her right nipple while Peter tweaked the other.

"I want to see you suck my husband. I want to see you make him cum."

I propped myself up and locked my elbows as she pointed his dick to me. I leaned forward but I couldn't reach it. They both seemed to waiting to do something so I grabbed his ass and pulled him closer to me, close enough so I could take his little wiener between my lips. I began to suck on him slowly and deliberately and soon found it easy to take it all and rub my nose in his pubes. To be perfectly honest, I was getting bit bored with their inertia. While I was enjoying her pussy, I really want to get wild and that wasn't happening. So I began to play a little by timing my slide into her with my slide off him and developed quite a rhythm. They both began to quiver a little and I knew I was doing my job. My own orgasm seemed to be good way off.

Suddenly, Peter moaned and said "Here it comes."

My mouth filled with his salty drink as he turned on the faucet. I thought that his dick had withdrawn but it was actually lost my mouth, swimming in his jizz. That set her off and she began to pump me hard and flail her head from side to side. Her nails dug into my ass as she pulled me deeper. Her hips bounced and spasmed and I left her juices running down around my nuts.

"Yes. Oh, that's it. Oh yes!"

And yes, that was it because she arched, collapsed and went limp, forcing my dick to slide out.

"That was so good...so hot...so good."

Peter watched her in quiet awe.

"I've never seen you cum like that. Wow!"

I rolled to her side and gently stroked her breast.

"And how did you like your blowjob?" I wondered.

"Yeah, it was great. I came a lot."

Coulda fooled me. I lay there waiting for the next move. My dick was still hard and pushing into her hip, I figured eventually she would get the message.

"What shall we do now," she said, "you haven't cum yet. Do you still want to come?"

Geez Louise, what kind of stupid question is that? I wondered about these two – she was soooo hot and sexy looking and utterly lame in bed! He seemed to be enthralled. I wondered if he ever thought as to how lucky he was to have her. But then I realized that while she was a major babe visually, there wasn't a whole lot else going on.

"It would be nice."

"Ok then, I'm going to make you cum and then I must go to sleep," she told me.

That sure was a turn on. Still it was better than my ex who would tell me to make her cum before she wen to sleep. And I would sit there jacking off while she snored.

Val moved over my body and began to work my dick in a clinical way. No way was I going to let that happen. I pulled her leg over my head so that she straddled it and I pulled her pussy down to my face. In a few minutes, she was writhing a bit and getting serious about the blowjob. I ran my hands along her ass and pressed my finger around her tight anal ring. She rocked her slit along my face. Yes, she was digging this.

And so was I as I felt my jizz start to rise. I dug my heels into the bed and pushed up, filling her mouth with my fat cock. Few a few moments there, we were doing the wild thing as I felt her flopping on my face. My tush clenched and I started shooting a healthy stream of my sticky cream. She leaned back so that she was now sitting on my face. My tongue was making her clit dance and I knew she was almost there. As her fragrant juices ran down my cheeks, I realized that there was still a mouth cleaning my dick. I hoped that Peter enjoyed his cocktail.

She slid off me and I watched as she frenched Peter. Then she frenched me. Then she lay down. Then she went to sleep. Smiling.

I got off the bed and went to the john to clean up. When I returned, Peter was in a robe and motioning to my clothes. I quickly got dressed and he walked me out.

"That was good for both of us, thank you. She's really kind of quiet and, you know, never seems to be too involved in it. But she was really into it tonight, she really loved it."

It's all a matter of degree, I suppose but as I'm not into necrophilia, I guess he was telling me the truth.

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byoldhippie1949© 4 comments/ 51755 views/ 5 favorites

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