Safe Driving Ch. 01

There was knocking on the door around 9:30pm in the middle of the week, a bit of a surprise. Getting up from the PC and opening the door, my ex-wife was standing there, unexpectedly. We divorced for various reasons more than 5 years ago, but had remained amicable enough. I still lived in the same house, while she maintained a number of friendships and social contacts in this town, some of them on a regular basis. Today was not one of those regular days, with this late being more than a touch unusual too. Further, normally she would politely inform me first about coming by.

"Hello - I was at John's, and you know how he is" she said, providing a fair bit of background in a few words. John enjoyed drinking, having a quite large wine cellar he liked sharing. He was married to Lisa, a wife of strict attitudes concerning fidelity, and the fact that they lived directly across the street made things close to home, so to speak. My ex-wife and I had never shared that strict idea of fidelity, but the complications for John and Lisa would have been real compared to what we had done during our marriage.

On the other hand, John was fully aware of how my ex-wife got when drunk. Which she seemed tonight, leaning lightly against the door frame. The top of her blouse was unbuttoned, and she was braless. That was not a surprise, as she often did not wear a bra regardless of how obvious her nipples might become.

"Can I pee?" she asked walking past me unsteadily even before I said sure, noticing a skirt bought sometime in the last few years, having never seen it before. Leaving the bathroom door open as she pulled up the skirt then sat, no more shy than in the past. She giggled a bit in a certain remembered tone, saying no panties made things quicker when needing to pee.

It was apparent that she was in a familiar drunk mood as she rose, holding the skirt up while reaching for a bit of toilet paper. She was facing me, displaying her bush, a sight she knew full well made me horny. Our expressions were fairly obvious to each other, hers displaying her enjoyment at teasing me. When drunk like this, such teasing works both ways.

Stepping out, skirt still held up, she asked if she could spend the night, since driving would be a bad idea. Adding that staying at John's would also not be a good idea, since Lisa was away.

"You don't mind?" she asked, now next to me, letting the skirt drop and grinning at a recognized expression on my face as my attention left the no longer exposed area between her legs. She knew I would not turn down any request she made in this mood.

"No, not in the least."

She leaned a bit closer, almost comically lowering her voice a bit and asked if I had any weed. That question was a larger surprise then the original knocking, as during the 20 years we were married, she always hated the smell, and only very rarely would get stoned. However, I also knew that changes occur, being dimly aware that she had spent a number of vacations in places where weed was legal after divorcing.

"Yes, a couple of joints upstairs. Are you sure, considering how it is much better to get stoned before drinking?"

She started to press against me, and the temptation to touch her ass only grew as she said this was the best time to get stoned. Reluctantly separating from her enticing body, I went upstairs to get a joint and the bong. Plus our original vibrator, leaving it discretely on the staircase. Entering the room where she was now sitting, I explained that we would be sharing the weed together, not just smoking a joint.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after taking a hit, breathing out as the other person breathes in. That is a good way to use less," I explained. Left unsaid was the other reason to get stoned that way, being a wonderful form of foreplay with a willing partner. Sitting next to her on the sofa, tearing a bit of the joint off to put in the bowl, I took a deep hit.

"Ready" I half croaked, making her smile, as she always found that style of talking funny. We leaned together, lips meeting, exchanging the hit. Straightforwardly, without sexual overtones, regardless of what undertones might exist.

"That's good" she half croaked herself, noticing how I was looking down her blouse in appreciation. After breathing out, she asked about using the bong, another more than minor surprise. Her skill became apparent as the smoke swirled into her lungs. After a longish interval, she grinned and used her hand to bring my head to her. This time, the exchange started to resemble kissing on her part, and unsurprisingly on my part too.

Separating somewhat regretfully, her hand rested lightly on my inner thigh as I prepared and did the third hit. The weed was definitely starting to reach my cock in delightful fashion, and this time when exchanging the smoke, our lips meeting developed into a proper kiss, tongues playing. A kiss that lingered on after she breathed out. We had always enjoyed kissing, both of us recognizing mutual skill, starting with our first kiss decades ago.

A skill we continued to enjoy after she did her next hit, my hand sliding under the skirt and over her soft thigh. Like last time, she held my head to guide our mouths together. Our kissing quickly became openly erotic, much like the way our hands were stroking each other's upper thighs. Her nipples were erect, but unlike John, I knew that meant nothing. My ex-wife is the only woman I have known who cared nothing about having her breasts played with. A somewhat ironic fact considering just how sexy they looked, something unknown to John at least from past stories. And quite possibly still, considering how open her blouse was, he remained unknowing.

Exhaling, noticing that half the joint was gone along with noticing just how turned on we were getting, her hand sliding over the jean covered outline of my shaft. My own hand was under her skirt, not quite reaching her pussy as her legs relaxed, but lightly teaching her over her soft hair.

After a bit of mutual teasing, she giggled and asked why we weren't still smoking the joint, since she did not have to worry about driving. "Besides," she added, "I know how you enjoy this. Just like with Joan in the past." Which was very true, as Joan and I used to get stoned together precisely this way, knowing where it would lead us.

Taking my hand away to deal with the bong was disappointing, but the way she began to unbutton my jeans as I did a hit was a wonderful way to even the scales. Kissing became delightful long before she inhaled as I exhaled in perfect balance. Weed provides a sense of skill when creating pleasure, time stretching luxuriously with minds sinking into paradise. She had a distinctive taste, one that has always appealed to me, indicating how drunk she was.

She took the bong, looking as drunk as she tasted, turned on and stoned doing another hit, legs open, blouse revealing her hanging breasts. Obviously, the past years had removed her reluctance to getting high and having sex, undoubtedly through practice. Likely much the way she had lost her reluctance to playing with a vibrator, through learning how easy it was to get off using it.

I intended this hit to be my last, not having smoked this much in years. She turned to me, hand running under my jeans along my downward pointing shaft as we resumed our kissing. When she started to breathe out, it was effortless to breathe in, my fingers playing with her sexy bush as she sighed and opened her legs further.

Pulling her skirt up completely and spreading her legs, I began to play with her pussy lips, nearing her clit gradually.

"You need .. to take out .. your cock" she said. The way it was pressed tight against the jeans meant that I needed to pull them down to free the shaft. Her telling me to do it made plain that our desire was thoroughly mutual. As soon as my cock was exposed, we would have gone beyond the sort of teasing that both of us considered possible to stop.

Getting my cock out, I asked what she and John had done, a finger sliding between her opening pussy lips. Her eyelids were fluttering even before a moistened finger began sliding past the top of her lips, soon reaching her clit.

"We drank .. you know .. then we kissed .. he said Lisa was not coming home .. his cock got hard." Her voice sounded so sexy, with the sort of tone and style that a really turned partner uses. Like Joan when we got stoned, in contrast to my ex-wife in the past, who tended to maintaining an almost perfect silence, even as our hot fucking gorgeously filled the room with the sounds of sex.

She was stroking my shaft when she giggled again, saying she had not done this with John tonight, making me gasp "oh fuck yes" as her lips went over my cock head. Hearing how she breathed my scent in, feeling her "umms" along my length too as I began to glide my thumb over her clit, meshing in simple animal pleasure.

She came back up to kiss after a minute, her hand touching mine, guiding my touch as our lips met, tongues soon playing lightly. Her scent was obvious by now, my finger starting to go inside her soft tunnel, thumb covering her erect clit.

Talking is always a turn on for me during sex, but she was generally reluctant to be explicit. Tonight though, holding my cock, having already started talking about what had happened, she continued.

"We got drunk .. he was horny .. we talked .. about Lisa .. and fucking."

"Really? About fucking? Just like that?"

"You know" and I did. Basically, John tended to get people as drunk as possible, especially when women were around. My ex-wife had enjoyed his company this way several times, with her getting drunkenly felt up while playing with his cock several times. She had been a bit amused at how clumsy and rushed those encounters at his house had been when talking to me about them afterwards. Not to mention hesitant at how eager I was to hear her tales.

The very first time had been with John and his wife one Friday night. When she slipped naked into bed after midnight, quite drunk, she leaned her chest against me, saying she almost had her first threesome. Hearing that and feeling her body move, I slid my hand between her legs. She sighed, saying they had all been kissing, more or less making out after drinking a couple of bottles of red wine. She then started laughing, saying John ended up drinking too much to be fun for Lisa or her, throwing up after eating dark chocolate.

Coming home, she was still not sure exactly what would have happened, as Lisa seemed quite out of it when John played with another woman's pussy. She slid my cock into her sopping wet cunt, riding me hard, my hands on her hips to control her motions, saying what a hot fuck she was right now. "Would you fuck Lisa?" she groaned, grinding her pubis against mine, rubbing her tits over my chest. "Fuck her like this with your big cock?"

"Fuck yes .. like this .. so good .. don't stop." As our fucking grew even more physical, the words became basic as we orgasmed, hot cum pumping into a squeezing tight tunnel in shared marital bliss. And a quarter of an hour later, she also went to the bathroom, to spend the next while throwing up.

That thought provided a certain caution in the present, but apparently she knew her current limits much better than I. Or the lack of limits, in the case of how she kept talking freely. The weed had clearly loosened her tongue, though also making her words less coherent.

"John .. wondered .. wanted to compare .. Lisa .. I showed him my .. let him close .. went down .. fuck yes .. yessss .. oohhh." My finger had gone fairly deep inside her wet soft fuck hole, a motion that drew her mind into her pussy in a wonderfully sexy way, hearing how she was losing the ability to think.

Meaning now was my turn to talk dirty, fingering her slippery cunt while stroking my hard length, looking between nicely spread legs. Aware that my ex-wife tended to avoiding having her pussy eaten or even talking about getting oral sex, this was another surprise.

"John went down on you?" I asked, not waiting for an answer, "licking your hot pussy?"

Thumb circling over her well lubricated clit, I slid a second finger in, intentionally making a spoken answer impossible, even as the thoughts remained. I had never really played like this with her before, deciding to keep going, doing something that never happened while married.

"No .. he .. I .. drunk .. asked .. my .. my .. you know .. my .. asshole." As she spoke, she twisted her body. I bent down, my tongue finding her ass as she sprawled against the side of the sofa. With two fingers filling her fuck hole, she allowed me to rim her for the very first time. Her moaning grew louder as my tongue pressed deeper between her ass cheeks, flicking over her squeezing ring, soon falling into the same rhythm as my circling thumb.

"I .. really .. like .. that" she said, adding "lick me .. there .. dirty .. fuck yes .. so good .. hot hole .. John .. so .. good." To the extent the words made sense, it appeared she had asked him to do something she had always considered too dirty with me, always stopping me from starting to rim when eating her pussy.

Her words inspired my tongue, trying to bathe her deliciously yielding ring in pleasure, knowing how magical that is. The thought that she had already been rimmed was a bonus, adding to this first time sensual experience, face going between her open legs, one stretched out along the back of the sofa, the other bent, foot on the the floor.

Kneeling on the carpet to take full advantage of how she was laying on her back, her questing hand found my rigid shaft, sliding over the taut sensitive skin in luxurious contact. Moving away a bit, looking at how she was starting to play with my cock, I asked "John went down like that?"

"Yes .. go back .. lick .. I want .. there .. dirty .. so good .. lick there." That she still avoided being explicit was a familiar trait from the past, one that remained partially in force even when drunk and stoned.

Understanding the meaning of that request, a very unusual one by the standards of the past, I said nothing before returning to tonguing her smoothly soft hole, feeling her loss of control. The finger fucking had moved to the background, but in a way only adding to the seductive joy of getting rimmed. My face was fully buried between her legs, one of her hands holding my head loosely.

Rimming is a delight to experience, and it meant nothing that another man had been licking her sweet rosebud maybe an hour ago. To be honest, it was an extraordinary turn on, sharing a woman with another man. Especially the way she kept talking, in that disconnected style indicating a mind fully submerged in pleasure, one rarely heard from her.

"Oh fuck .. so .. good .. John .. Lisa .. never .. ass kissing." There was a certain irony to that apparent comment, we having never done that either, even though I had offered numerous times over the years. Now, she was too turned on to think about such details. She was always more open to ideas when drinking, making me wonder whether John had been serving capirinha, as a couple of the large glasses he normally served would have made her thoroughly drunk.

"Lisa .. not around .. wanted .. see .. play .. pussy .. touched me .. there .. licked .. like this .. cock."

Her hands guided my head upwards to kiss as my fingers remained in her smooth tight pussy. Her manner was thoroughly slutty as my tongue filled her mouth. One of her hands started touching the hair under my balls as the other found a nipple. This is a magical way to stroke, and she knew it as my kissing grew completely passive.

Turning her head a bit, we broke the kiss, my lips finding her neck. Soon, I was nibbling, careful not to spend too long in any particular spot to avoid creating a hickey. That was something that neither of us ever really wanted to show, while also not being particularly able to resist the other making one.

Her words were soft and dreamy in my ear as I floated near orgasm. When her finger began touching the hair around my hole, it was heavenly. Touching the hair was something she would do freely, but what followed was very rare, regardless how often I had asked over the years. Now she was doing the asking, and it was fantastic.

"What should I do?"

I could only moan, unable to say anything in an enveloping fog of glorious sensation.

"Touch your ass?"

A question possible to answer without really thinking or words, with my moaning becoming louder as her finger began touching over the sensitive ring. I could barely keep from cumming when she kept talking.

"John really liked that, playing with himself. He said Lisa never did that with him, and never allowed him to play that way either. Hmmm..."

The interruption was caused by me sliding a juicy slick finger over her soft anal ring, something she had only allowed in the past when about to cum playing with a vibrator.

Kissing her ear, whispering that Joan and I played liked this after getting stoned, especially in the water on a raft at the local nude lake.

After mentioning that, she moaned that we should finish the joint. I agreed, any thoughts of restraint gone, telling her that our first vibrator was on the stairs, and that getting high and using one was exquisite fun. She laughed as we separated, saying she knew that now. Getting up, her appearance in the skirt and opened blouse even sexier than being naked, looking down as she held my cock to breathe in its scent again.

Firmly holding my rigid shaft, she moved her head to sniff different areas around my bush and balls. Lifting my hand, smelling her sexy natural scents, her tongue began to flick over my stretched cock head, an accustomed reaction from letting the scent fill her mind. Both of us had always appreciated how the other's scent could be so sexually stimulating. I have always loved going down on a woman, having the smell of her juices fill my nostrils long after leaving her pussy. In turn, she was almost always tempted to start giving head after having her nose buried in my bush, inhaling deeply.

Like now, taking my willing cock into her mouth again, distracting me sufficiently to let her do what she wanted. When her head moved back, cock jutting, I went to get the vibrator. She was doing a hit as I came back, plugging the toy in before she motioned me to her lips, grabbing my head as she exhaled.

This time, our kissing was sloppily stoned, hands roaming over each other's bodies. After breathing out, I went to get a bath towel. Putting it down, she stood up, pulling down and stepping out of her skirt. As I filled the bong, she stood in front of me, her bush at face height, a gorgeous view.

"John did not get that view exactly," she said as I used the bong, "but he saw a lot. And took pictures." When she bent down to exchange the hit, the way her tits hung free was extremely sexy. Sliding a finger between still enticingly slippery pussy lips, I asked what she meant, knowing she would not answer quickly. Taking pictures, both behind and in front of the camera, is a big turn on for me. She was much less interested, though rarely cared when I used the camera, as long as the flash did not disturb her.

Her stretched out "ummmm" was accompanied with dribbling smoke, as were the first couple of words. "They're on my phone - maybe you can copy them to the PC? I want to see them before sending." That was normal, always wanting to approve any pictures posted in the past. She had no interest in poor quality pictures, knowing that photos can be totally out of focus or pointed at nothing or the flash goes off far too close, etc. Along with simply not presenting an attractive view, at least in her opinion.

Luckily for me, though he had no interest in 'primitive' shots, she did not care if I took them. Even more luckily tonight, she wasn't thinking too logically at this point, since it was unlikely she would be doing any reviewing considering her current state.