Climate Change

With that she walked away. My eyes listlessly followed her perfect bouncing butt until it disappeared.

I didn't leave the bench for at least half an hour. "Paree," or at least the Kelley version of "Paree" was no longer an option. Could I go "back to the farm?"

*************

I passed on the last sex session with Kelley; I can't really articulate my reasons why. They were many and complex. Perhaps the most significant one was that I needed to find some way to "go back to the farm" and having one more taste of "Paree" sure wasn't going to help any.

Over the next two weeks I made several lists of what I needed to do to return to my previous life. Most were rather mundane, even if important. One that I wasn't sure that I could accomplish was to get Mabel's sex drive and openness to experimentation up. Mabel had always been conservative – no pussy eating, playing with anus, exploratory positions – but I really felt that I needed to change that without giving her the idea that I had been doing what I actually had been –fucking a sex machine multiple times a week where almost nothing was off-limits.

After careful consideration, Internet searches (of a type I had never done before), and actual subtle discussions with a few friends that I could trust, I came up with a plan for the Mabel problem.

Mabel liked to have a glass of wine every so often, but never got drunk. About the only thing that she overdosed on was lemonade; she had a real affinity for that beverage. I bought a new type of lemonade for her "Mike's Harder Lemonade," alcohol content 8%. The first couple of times that she tried it she wasn't sure that she liked it. However, after her fifth serving (I never let her see the bottles or cans) over a three week period she decided that she liked it.

We had a barbeque at our house one Saturday. I carefully planned for our eleven year old daughter and ten year old son to have sleep-overs at good friends' houses. I had hired a service to do the cooking and cleanup so that I could be sure that Mabel was served the "harder" lemonade the entire night. Every time that her glass was empty I got it refilled.

Even though Mabel is a big (though not fat) woman by the time that all the guests had left (midnight) she was as happy-go-lucky as I'd ever seen her, and randy as hell. I paid the caterer and while they cleaned up I took randy Mabel to bed, stripped her as she giggled, showered with her making sure to properly wash her tits and cooch, and then laid her spread eagle on our bed and stuck my tongue in her pussy. Although she normally would have slapped me away she put up only token resistance. I did the best job that I could eating her, sucking her clit, and massaging her G-spot.

I must have done a very good job, and/or her subconscious mind must have been ready for it, because she came with a vengeance; four times! She was begging for my cock by then, and I put her on her hands and knees and vigorously fucked her doggy while twisting the nipple of one of her prodigious tits with one hand, and burying the thumb on the other hand in her rosebud.

Despite having already cum four times, Mabel came again twice more before I swamped her cooch with seminal fluid. When we separated she glommed onto me and immediately fell asleep in my arms.

By the time that I woke up the next morning I could smell the wonderful odor of French Toast wafting up from the kitchen. I chuckled when I thought of the previous evening. When I got downstairs I was greeted by a woman so exultant that it almost looked like she was floating rather than standing. She ran over to me, planted a scorcher on my lips, and then whispered – even though the kids were still at their sleep-overs and not around to hear – "You're the baddest man ever. You removed my spine last night. When can you do it again?" and then blushed profusely.

Mabel would never be another Kelley as far as uninhibited sex was concerned; however, after that night, even without hard lemonade, she was more fun to fuck – and make love to – than any other time that I had known her by at least a factor of two.

I only received one other communication from Kelley after she left town. Two plus years after she left I got a UPS package at work marked PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL with an obviously bogus return address. Inside was an 8 x 10 color photo of a cute little boy with a large frame. On the back was a label that said "18 months; almost twice the size of his brothers at that age" Also in the package was a DVD with no markings indicating what it was. There was just the imprint of a lipstick kiss on the front of the plastic cover holding it.

After everyone else left the office for the day I put it in the DVD player of my computer. It was an edited version of at least four different sex sessions that I had with Kelley with us fucking in several different unusual positions where we both orgasmed so hard that we almost passed out.

Surprisingly looking at the DVD did not fill me with nostalgia. It did, however, cause an erection and I needed a quickie with Mabel before dinner otherwise I might have exploded. We did it in the laundry room with the washing machine running – a place that the kids would never look. "God, I love you, you animal," were Mabel's last words as she gave me a kiss and tried to fix her hair as she exited the room walking bowlegged with a big smile on her face.

I put the DVD and photograph in my safe at work and never looked them again.