Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 35-36

"No thanks Mum. He's on his way now in his Mum's car. I just got a message. Got to run. Bye for now!"

And with that, my daughter dashed from the room. A moment later I saw her positively skipping down the driveway to the gates where a small red car was pulling up.

A car I recognised well; his mother's.

***

"Do you think they're sleeping together?" Pete asked, astounded when I gave him the news over pre-dinner drinks.

"Who knows," I replied disingenuously, not wanting to upset my husband with my eighteen-missing-condom discovery. "They're adults now."

"But Jack? Izzy and Jack?" he went on as I had done. "I always thought they were like brother and sister."

"Apparently no longer," I said. "It seems our two families are getting closer all the time."

Pete blushed momentarily at the unintended reminder of our mutual infidelities.

"What does Julie think about it?" he asked.

"I haven't seen her since I heard the news," I replied.

"Have you anything fixed?"

"I'll send her a message, but I know she's away on holiday now."

"On her own?" he asked, surprised.

"She's gone on one of those singles holidays," I winked in reply. "With a friend from work."

"Aren't those the kind of holidays where women..." Pete began but I stopped him.

"If she's lucky, yes they are!" I smiled as innocently as I could.

The last thing I wanted was for Pete to start remembering what he and Julie had got up to in bed.

Chapter Thirty-Six

For the next few weeks, all progressed even better than I had hoped. Izzy continued to be pleasant, though I saw little of her with her job and her new boyfriend in the picture. That relationship seemed to be going smoothly too, but it felt very strange the first few times a boy I had known from the age of four slept overnight in my daughter's bed.

Izzy tried to be quiet, but it's not in her nature. Izzy-Oh-God made her presence felt on several occasions and there was no mistaking the thumping sounds and muffled squealing that came through the walls at an impressive frequency.

Jack must be fitter than I had thought.

At work, my friend and Boss Sandie had put the wheels in motion to find maternity cover for me from early December - now confirmed as my due date. Pete was playing the role of the expectant father to perfection, a role he knew and which suited him well, given we had already been through it three times before.

Even my day in London baby shopping with Samantha, my delightful, also-pregnant daughter-in-law went well. We had hit Oxford Street fairly hard, despite the intimidating prices and enjoyed a slap-up lunch in Fortnum and Mason before she put me back on my train northwards.

The day felt so normal, I even managed to forget that I would be a Grandmother for the first time, only weeks after becoming a mother for the fourth.

It was mid-September before I could meet my longstanding and closest friend Julie for coffee and our usual catch-up chat.

"Well what a turn up!"

Julie began, diving straight into the conversation as soon as the niceties of admiring my rather substantial baby bump had been completed. I had to agree; my tummy had swollen so much that maternity clothes were now a necessity rather than a choice.

She lowered herself into the chair opposite mine at our kitchen table one Saturday morning. From her clothes and the state of her hair and face, she had just come from a hard session in the gym, which made me feel even more guilty for having avoided exercise yet again.

In public, I blamed my now-unconcealable baby bump. In private, I know I was being lazy.

What was worse was that she looked amazing. China-doll pretty, her slim, compact body looked even tighter and more athletic, her figure enhanced by the skin-tight lycra tights and sleeveless top she wore.

It wasn't hard to understand what Darren and my husband had seen in her.

"What's a turn-up?" I grinned as she sorted out her handbag and shopping bags.

"The kids of course! Jack and Izzy an item; who would have guessed that?"

"Not me," I agreed. "It's a bit out of left field but seems to be working okay so far. What do the others think?"

Julie pulled a face.

"They aren't happy at all, but I told them it's none of their business."

"What about their Dad?" I asked, a little warily.

"He's in no position to comment, is he? It's not as if it's the first sexual relationship between our two families."

A shiver went down my spine at her unexpectedly bitter words. I leaned forward anxiously.

"No-one else knows about him and me, do they?" I hissed anxiously.

"Not as far as I know," Julie replied with confidence. "Just as they don't know about me and Pete."

It was very unusual for our very temporary partner-swap even to be alluded to, let alone overtly mentioned. I suspect we were both a bit shocked it had come to the surface to suddenly because we both quickly sought a new subject.

"How's the pregnancy going?" Julie asked.

We sipped our coffee and for a quarter of an hour we talked about the problems of a woman being pregnant in her fifties. Memories from both our pasts of aching backs, swelling ankles and putting on weight were brought out, along with a good few funny, self-deprecating stories from us both.

After the mixed reactions I was getting from work colleagues and some friends, it was good to be with someone who was unequivocally on my side.

Eventually we returned to Izzy and Jack and their new relationship. From the slightly awkward way she brought the conversation back to it, I could tell there was something still to come out.

"He's over the moon of course," Julie said with a smile. "He's been in love with Izzy since they were tiny. For him it's like a dream come true but..."

"But?" I prompted, wondering what the problem might be.

"Can I be honest with you Penny?"

"Of course!"

We knew enough about each other not to hold anything back. Though it remained unsaid, each of us knew enough secrets to cause mayhem for the other. I suppose it was another example of the Mutually Assured Destruction that my life was increasingly made of.

"Jack isn't... wasn't very experienced sexually. Oh, I know he's drop-dead gorgeous, but he's never been very confident with girls. And he's only nineteen remember."

With his height and figure, I had forgotten that Jack was the youngest of all our children. Yes, given Izzy's age he would still only be nineteen.

"He might even have been..." she hesitated before continuing. "A virgin before the holiday."

"Did he tell you that?" I asked, amazed. "I can't imagine either of my boys being so honest."

"He used to tell me everything," she said sadly, shaking her head. "But all that changed when I left Tony. Jack's okay about the separation now, but he doesn't tell me many secrets anymore."

"Well, he's certainly not a virgin now," I sighed.

"That's just it. I think he's a bit shocked at... "Julie looked very awkward. "Well, Izzy's the sort of girl who throws herself into something whole-heartedly, isn't she Penny?"

That was the understatement of the week, but I didn't say anything. I thought about the eighteen missing-presumed-used condoms in Izzy's packing and began to understand.

"There's no easy way to say this, Penny; Izzy's got him wrapped around her little finger. Oh, she's not doing anything wrong at all, but she's much more experienced than him..."

I could tell there was more to come.

"Can I be really honest with you Penny?"

"You know you can," I replied, though not without trepidation.

"Well," she hesitated. "Jack's worried she'll dump him because he doesn't know how to keep up with her demands. He doesn't say it straight out, but I gather she's a bit of a tiger in bed, Penny!"

"Jules!" I exclaimed, pretending to be shocked.

Julie looked at me with an expression that said she could guess where my daughter had acquired this sexual athleticism. For a moment I wondered just how much detail she had managed to learn of my affair with her soon-to-be-ex-husband.

"Oh, I know there's not much you can do," she continued after a moment's awkward pause. "But Jack's head over heels in love with her. He's been in love with Izzy most of his life and now this has happened, he's desperate to make it work. He's worried she'll get fed up of his lack of experience and dump him. I just don't want him to be hurt."

I understood. No mother wants her child to be hurt or upset. I felt the same about all three of my children and, knowing Jack and Izzy's personalities, in this case I could easily understand why my friend was anxious.

"I'll do what I can," I reassured her. "But they're adults and there's not much I can do..."

I left the words hanging before continuing.

"But right now, she seems to have fallen just as badly for him as he has for her."

"Really?" Julie asked, obviously relieved.

"Really Jules. You should hear her going on about how wonderful he is."

My friend looked very relieved.

"I'm sorry to have told you all that," she said quietly. "But I had to get it off my chest."

"Don't' worry. After all that's happened, I think you and I can talk about pretty much anything, don't you?"

She nodded, blushing slightly though in my book it was me who had the most to be embarrassed about.

"Penny, Jack's so pussy-whipped right now he doesn't know if he's coming or going!"

There was a pause while we both worked out what was wrong with what she had just said.

Julie got the joke first and stared at me, her eyes wide open. Then I got it and we both dissolved in fits of giggles.

***

"It's no good Penny," Pete gasped, pausing in his thrusts, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my lower back. "I'm so shagged out I can't even make myself cum now, let alone you."

I frowned, looking at my disappointed face in mirror on the closet door. On all fours on the bedroom rug, it wasn't the most dignified position to be seen in, especially with my growing boobs and swollen belly hanging down beneath me. But the frustration of having been brought so close to orgasm by my husband's long, slim cock but denied that final push over the edge into proper climax, was almost intolerable.

Positioned doggystyle behind me, his cock still in my rather capacious vagina, Pete had done his very best but my advancing pregnancy and the constant state of arousal that had accompanied it for many months were now making me harder than ever to satisfy.

It was our second encounter within the hour, the first having led to a rather messy insemination long before my arousal had approached climax. At fifty-two, Pete's refractory period wasn't what it had been in our early days, so attempting a second copulation so soon had always been a risk.

The fact that he had managed an erection at all was tribute to his stamina and fitness. The fact that it was fading after doing only three-quarters of the job was tragic, at least for me.

In some ways it would have been kinder to have abandoned the idea before the second penetration had brought me so close to the edge, but it was too late now; there I was, on the brink of orgasm with my partner unable to take me those last crucial few paces.

"Please Pete," I begged. "Can't you fuck me anymore? I'm sooo clooose!"

I watched his face in the mirror as he looked down at his groin and shook his head.

"I'm losing it Penn. Sorry."

Disappointment filled my head and heart. Pete must have seen my reflected expression too because he patted my well-displayed buttocks playfully.

"Get on your back," he grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

I carefully manoeuvred my growing body first onto my feet then with Pete's help, onto the bed. I could see his cock, long and dark but far too soft to do the job that was needed in my vagina.

"Lie back and spread those thighs," he grinned. "Let the dog see the rabbit."

I did as he instructed, propping myself up on the pillows with my back against the padded headboard then watched as my husband climbed onto the bed between my open legs.

Pete shuffled forwards toward me, his eyes fixed on the messy prize between my upper thighs.

"I think we need them a bit wider," he grinned, taking me by the keens and opening my thighs as wide as they could comfortably go.

It was clear now what his intentions were, and they made me very happy. Pete's technique in terms of penetrative sex might not always work for me but his cunnilingual skills were first class.

"I don't get many creampies these days," he said with mock sadness. "I wonder if my own will taste different now you're up the duff."

"There's only one way to find out," I replied archly.

Pete lowered his head to my groin and planed a single kiss on my pubic bone, just above the soft, sparse, curly triangle that had regrown. I could feel the heat of his body between my knees and the warmth of his breath on my still tingling vulva.

I felt his lips on me again, then the touch of his tongue, first toying and tangling with the curls between my thighs then tentatively parting the puffy pink lips below.

Then he began to lick me, first in long, slow strokes from the open base of my slit upwards across my inner lips to the small, hard nub of my clitoris.

My husband knew his stuff; it was working.

"Hhhhhhhh," I breathed noisily, my hips writhing under his tongue.

Pete licked me more firmly, dipping the tip of his tongue into my hot passage, my juices flowing more freely, their slightly sour, slightly metallic aroma filling my nostrils and making me half dizzy with lust.

"God! You're good at this," I sighed.

"I'm pleased you think so!"

Pete mumbled his reply into my damp mound before turning his attention entirely to my clitoris, now as hard and swollen as it could be, no doubt protruding from under its hood and sticking out between my puffy lips.

He sucked it into his mouth, his sharp teeth grating against its tender underside.

"Jesus!"

The shock made me gasp out loud, my hips bucking hard against my husband's face, grinding my pubic hair against his lips and nose. Apparently unhurt and unfazed by the force of my reaction, Pete

lapped at me eagerly, his tongue plunging deep into my deepest passage, then running the full length of my slit as if seeking out every last drop of my increasingly-pungent secretions.

"Oh God!" I gasped again.

My thighs closed tightly and instinctively against the sides of my husband's head, ramming my vulva into his face so firmly that I'm sure he could barely breathe before they fell helplessly apart again.

He did it again with a similar result then, before I could react, he struck a third time. The fourth followed so soon after that my body had no chance to recover; the fifth followed hard on its heels and I was away.

Judging his pace to perfection, Pete tongued me with all the considerable expertise he possessed, each confident stroke building on the last, driving my arousal higher and higher by the second. With no time even to breathe, my chest became tight, my legs became loose and a familiar, much loved warm glow began to form behind my pubic bone.

The glow grew larger and more intense, Pete's tongue now exclusively on my clitoris, working its tip under the hood then running underneath its tiny shaft with its flat, slightly rough upper surface.

"Jesus Christ!"

The warm glow grew hotter and hotter and larger and larger, filling my lower belly, pressing against the base of my chest, squeezing my already-tiny bladder.

It was then I felt the first finger sliding smoothly and easily into me. With his hand under his chin, Pete insinuated first one, then a second finger between my wet, flapping lips and into the mouth of my vagina.

It felt good, but as readers will remember, after three babies and two tears during childbirth, my vagina isn't as tight as once it was. While Pete's fingers were a welcome presence in my body, the sensations they were bringing were far from intense.

Sensing this, Pete began to move his hand inside me, twisting from left to right and back as if searching for something. I felt a third finger join the first two and immediately the sensations soared, my entrance tighter around my husband's knuckles.

Pete's hand twisted again. I could feel myself opening wider, my tight inner lips giving up more of their elasticity. I felt the heat of his palm against my mound and sensed rather than felt his fingers curling inside me until his fingertips rested against my g-spot.

The he began to work, mouth, tongue and fingers in perfect harmony, all focussed on my groin.

The effect was nearly instant. I began to cum as hard as I could remember cumming, cock or no cock. As Pete's fingers crudely stimulated my hidden secret place, his tongue played its part on my clitoris.

"MMMMMMMM!"

The force of my orgasm was frightening. No words can properly describe it just as no words would come out of mouth when it was all happening.

Pete's finger-fucking was rough and almost violent but my god, it was effective. Soon my body was flexing and rolling too wildly for his face to remaining on my clitoris in safety. He move into position higher up my body and put all his strength and energy into fucking me with his hand.

I could feel my fluids running freely down my bottom as my whole body begin to tremble and shake. Unable to speak or breath, my tummy contracted as far as my bump would allow, my legs flexed wildly, the hot pressure on my bladder reached an unbearable pain, my hips bucked hard against the fingers that were so deep inside them...

Though already painfully tight, I felt the pace of Pete's fucking slow, then a fourth and final finger being forced into my vagina alongside the others.

If two fingers were too little for pleasure, four fingers were too much for comfort.

"OwwwWWW!"

I wailed into the half-darkness of the room as my husband's arm rose and fell in a blur, dragging his fingers over my g-spot over and over again. My head span, my breath came only in gulps and the desire to pee became almost irresistible.

But still Pete wouldn't stop; he wouldn't even slow his pace. The sounds of his hand in my vagina grew louder and louder and wetter and wetter as the ball of heat grew larger and hotter.

Then to my stunned amazement, something entirely new and completely unexpected happened.

The heat behind my pubic bone grew white hot, then surged at lightning speed down the inside of my thighs and through my vulva and into my bottom.

A huge, final surge of something that was either intense pleasure or agonising pain shot through my loins. Then, clearly visible despite my baby bump, a jet of clear fluid spurted from somewhere deep between my legs, shot upwards towards my knees then splashed all over my husband's chest and arm.

Oh my God! For the first time in my fifty-one years, I had squirted! Penny Barker PhD had reached a squirting orgasm on her husband's fingers.

But no sooner had I had these thoughts than my body took over again, writhing and bucking against the hand that was brining such intense and complicated sensations.

I never wanted it to stop. I desperately wanted it to stop.

I wanted my body to return to something like my control; I never wanted to be in control again.

But whatever I wanted was irrelevant; the choice was no longer mine.

Taken aback but undeterred, Pete continued to finger me hard, his hand a mere blur over my vulva, his fingers thrust even deeper into my vagina, rasping away at my g-spot.

Within seconds, the hot ball behind my pubic bone had grown to a painful level again and another, stronger jet of fluid short from me. This time Pete managed to avoid being in the firing line; whatever the fluid was, it sprayed across the duvet cover and soaked into the bed.

"Cumming...I'm Cumming... Oh Jesus!"

My back flexed, my legs shook as her my was driven violently against the hand within it. My fingers flew to Pete's hand in a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to push it away from me then, when that failed, I grabbed at his arms, face and hair, pushing him away, then pulling him back again.