Pussy, Peckers, and Pizza Ch. 05

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Pre- planning and playing flashing games is an art.
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Part 5 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 03/21/2017
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Great Smokey Mountains and Pizza 1971

But first some more useless facts explaining our love for pizza.

These stories make it sound as if everyday was sex and games. Far from it. With three kids, working from ten to twelve hour days, school and church events, and life, our games were spread out randomly over the next sixty years. Most of the time we were just regular people doing regular things. We drank in moderation, didn't smoke, or swear. Our family and most friends had no idea we were living two lives.

Sure we played a thousand pizza flashing games in a thousand places over what seems like a thousand years. Loving to share our games over an open campfire or across a smoky table at a bar, I began scribbling notes about most games involving Dollie and her tits. This was way before computers so my notes were put on a yellow colored paper notepad, on napkins, or backs of bits of useless fliers and whatever was handy.

History as we know it today wouldn't be accurate in books and movies if those before us hadn't kept notes. Mine weren't chiseled in stone or left hidden in caves scribbled on animal skins. Even members of the Donner party kept diaries of members eating other members. Well, maybe their eating habits weren't the same. But the notes all served a purpose and we also began our journeys in central Illinois.

As more games were played, I began converting the notes to short stories so I'd have the facts together. Realizing most games, pizza flashing or at other places, were similar and became boring to write about and share, I culled the less interesting and boring stories. Eventually I narrowed down my stories even more, to the more unusual and surprising events. This is why the dates vary and I jump around from place to place.

After moving to Florida the notes and most stories ended up in the back of Dollie's walk in closet. Thanks to her hoarding habit, it was no longer walk in-able and those notes were forgotten. After I got my first used computer and internet, I joined a few motorcycle forums. It was then I began sharing our stories with strangers on the web. Many stories at that time were about small bike events, then Daytona Bike Week and others.

As we got older and stayed home more, I joined a few porn sites and decided to share, as others were sharing stories. We were now among sex starved members wanting kinky details about adult games and cock sizes, rather than how big my Honda was. So here I am rewriting and sharing our secrets with more strangers.

Once more I repeat, you have to dress to play... to play!

Many of us have the habit of calling the areola and nipple simply the nipple. We both hated Dollie's small pale areolas and quarter inch long nipples but there was an advantage. She could wear tops even lower to just cover those quarter sized areolas and nipples. Dollie loved wearing thin tank tops with long spaghetti straps over her shoulders. Once she liked how they barely covered her nipples, she'd tie the straps in a knot so she only had to slip the top on and it was pre-adjusted.

All was fine with Dollie's spaghetti strapped tops until her titties grew and gravity took over after three kids. I helped her readjust those skinny straps so, again, her nipples were very close to the top edge. I wasn't happy, or I was just ornery. One day when she was gone I untied the knots and made the straps longer. I didn't bother to measure or calculate how much boob was covered. I just did it without ever saying anything to Dollie.

Amazingly, even though she often questioned why her nipples were exposed, she'd just pull the front of the top up to cover them. As the day passed and Dollie moved around, the tops were again lower in the front and both nipples would peek out. As time passed she knew this would happen, yet wore those blouses to please me.

Of course I'd notice, but I was thrilled that her nipples were exposed and strangers were looking. What I failed to realize was that when bending over or sitting, gravity again took over and it was nearly impossible to keep those little nipples hidden.

I mention this here because it was one of those too low tank tops she wore on our afternoon walk in the mountains. During most of that afternoon walk and while playing in a cold mountain stream we were both topless and alone. I don't even think Dollie noticed how much tit was exposed as we headed into the little town to buy vinegar, lotion, and a breast pump.

We learned long ago white vinegar prevents blisters and pain from sunburn, which we both had, even though we'd mostly hiked in the forest. The lotion was to counteract the vinegar smell. Our daughter was barely a year old and like with the first two boys, nursed very little before her doctor convinced Dollie a formula was better. The breast pump was what Dollie forgot to bring. Now, oversized, extremely firm titties were lactating and leaking all over her thin white top.

Dollie's titties at that time were so large and rock hard I'd taken her to her doctor to see what was wrong. As I look back, I believe it was her doctor who caused me to let other men fondle Dollie's tits. While watching that doctor's large hands fondling my wife's boobs, I got an instant erection. Yes, I am innocent. It was her family that turned her into an exhibitionist and her doctor that turned me into a pervert sharing my wife's titties! As a bonus nipples of any size, shape or color turn me on. Even the word nipple sends shivers down my spine. Therefore I use that word often in stories and life.

With this valuable information, cum along as we dine in an old converted bar turned pizzeria. At the time of this story we were barely in our thirties dreaming up new and wilder pizza shop flashing games. This was not one of those times. We accidentally pulled into a pizza parking lot, saw the pizza sign, and realized we were hungry.

PART ONE. Great Smokey Mountains and Pizza

Our daughter was born in 1970. At that time Dollie had a hysterectomy and other complicated female procedures. The good part of this, no more periods and no more pregnancies. I'd also find out now I could ram my cock all the way in her vagina without banging the knob at the base of her uterus, making her scream. Too bad at that time she didn't listen to me and fuck other men.

I feel another note should be noted. We've been told that after a hysterectomy women loose interest in sex. Dollie is not like some other women. Her sex drive and interests in our games seemed to grow stronger. Twenty-nine and couldn't get pregnant, a wonderful thought.

I was anxious to show off those much larger titties to strangers and now possibly get Dollie fucked. With titties still filling with milk and her mother begging to watch all three kids, we took the opportunity to go to the mountains for a camping get away alone for a change.

Our second day there, we were on our way back to the RV at Elkmont campground near Gatlinburg, Tennessee, hungry, tired, and sunburned. I have no idea what mountain range or creeks we played in or even what the name or location of the little town we'd visit was. That's the nice thing about writing these stories now. I don't have to use made up names or locations. Most of the people are dead and the businesses, and even towns, long gone.

According to my notes, the town was small and looked much like those little towns in the western movies. We'd stopped at a small grocery store but were told we'd have to go further down the street to the little drug store for a breast pump. I wasn't looking left and ended up out of town.

As I turned around in a small dirt parking lot we saw the little old tavern with the sign "MOM AND POP'S PIZZARIA". The parking lot was empty but the red neon flashing OPEN and PIZZA signs were beckoning us in. The breast pump could wait!

But it wasn't as easy as it sounds. Dollie was upset that her leaking titties had made much of her thin top transparent and her nipples still wouldn't stay covered. She tugged and pulled her top back up in front to temporarily cover the little areolas. I was happy but Dollie wasn't so sure about walking in the pizza place looking like a slut, wearing a wrinkled dirty top and a pair of cheek showing shorts. I assured her she'd gone in other places with more exposed.

They weren't those modern ass showing camel toe bikini style shorts. Back then they were the cheek showing type. Later known as Daisy Dukes, or hot pants, common back then. In fact a few gals we'd see in the little town and walking through the campground wore short shorts.

As we walked through the genuine old arched swinging doors of the former bar, we were instantly greeted by Mom and Pop personally. MOM was printed on Rosie's low cut white ruffled blouse and POP on a similar collared shirt worn by Angelo. My guess both were in their fifties, short and well rounded, yet Rosie was packed nicely for her age. Ample cleavage and two monster sized tittes seemingly floating on some sort of shelf. Plenty of exposed boob to let us know they were tit lovers.

As my dad used to say "built like a brick shit house."

The mental image is not so good but I assumed it meant solid and every brick in the right place. Rosie fit that description. As we took a seat at a small round table in the middle of the room, Rosie suggested dark draft beer and a small deluxe pizza. Dollie doesn't like a strong beer so I ordered one light and one dark in large glass mugs like we saw above the bar.

We chose a medium pizza, explaining we'd take half back to our RV at the campground. Knowing we were tourists, seeing Dollies' burnt exposed boobies, and the way we were dressed, both ask where we'd been and were we having fun. Of course we were having fun and apologized for Dollie's titties falling out of her blouse. My excuse was we'd hiked topless and her top obviously got wrinkled and stretched out of shape during our afternoon adventures.

Rosie giggled, as she leaned farther over our table, pretending to be wiping it off. Those two large white melons were now nearly fully exposed for our close up viewing.

Rosie said something like "big boobs are made to be shared."

Angelo was enjoying his wife's tittie show and encouraged Dollie to just let hers hang out, which she did. As much as I'm bragging about Dollie's then fuller hard tits, Mom Rosie's made Dollie's look small in comparison.

Angelo went to the kitchen to make our pizza. Rosie brought our beers, her huge titties jiggling like Jell-O. Once Dollie got over the initial embarrassment she told me she was enjoying seeing Angelo admiring her boobs even though his own wife's were twice the size.

Dollie sat there squirming, making her shorts wet. Yes I felt her crotch. Dollie's boobies rubbed the tablecloth, causing even more orgasms. In turn her lactating titties were dripping on the tablecloth. Before this day was over I'd learn a secret! Dollie suffered for years because I could never keep a secret!

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