Skydiver Sue: We Book a Spa

On the mid-autumn day of this escapade, I hadn't seen or heard from Sue for about three weeks. She had dumped me, again, about eight months previously, and was chasing a former dating partner, John, trying to woo him back, but, being severely damaged from a previous marriage, John wasn't taking the bait well, and certainly wasn't interested in casual sex.

In fact, it's unclear if they even fucked, back then. Looking back, I'd say they didn't.

Presently, she told me they were dating and hanging out, but that was it.

The lack of sex exasperated Sue. When she felt like sex, she was used to easily fulfilling her needs, and his lack of interest, at least with her, removed from her the power over her male companions that she had usually enjoyed over the last two decades of a constantly renewed procession of lovers. She wasn't a slut; rather, she simply discarded men who became too familiar.

So, not a huge number of lovers, but a steady stream. She was proud that she could still name every man she had ever fucked--24, she reckoned, including me-- while berating me for not being able to do the same.

Heck, for most of my sexual partners, I never even knew their names! I didn't pay much attention to names of swingers, hookers and casual hookups.

When it came to Sue, I used to refer to myself as her Schrödinger's lover: neither loved nor unloved. Only she had the key that could open the box and finally determine my state of being.

But, to my good fortune, reasonably regularly, even though I was officially dumped, she would tire of John's sexual reluctance and fuck me, discreetly, usually on a Sunday morning while she was meant to be at the gym, before they would meet for an afternoon outing of some kind.

Previously, before she decided to attempt to woo herself back into his affections and him into her pussy, we used to fuck mainly at her place, but he was a regular visitor to hers, now, so she had to keep me hidden and we did our recent fucking at mine.

Once, when she was leaving my place to prepare for meeting John in the afternoon, I asked, "What if he finally wants to fuck you this time and your pussy is full of my cum?"

"I'll have a bath when I get home," she chuckled. "Your shit will be long gone!"

I wasn't so sure about that.

"Have you got a bottle brush? My little swimmers are fast and devious."

That two of my children were conceived even with contraception in place, 37 years apart, to different women, of course, attested to the truth of that statement.

And in my most recently ended marriage, the one with a period of unconventional sex, if I went down on my senior teacher wife, I could easily smell semen in her vagina even the night after she had fucked one or more of her numerous sexual partners. Semen strategically hides in deep recesses, after all.

"Just like you," she scoffed, but she had the added insurance that John was too much of a prude to go down on her,

Before she met me, she once told me, she had 'dated' six men in six months and none of them could bring her to orgasm.

As a result of her revelations, though, I was bewildered by the contrast between John's Sue and my Sue.

With me, she had little restraint in the bedroom. Sometimes, not often, she even went off to meet him with a tender ass from my fat cock forcing its way into her little anus. She knew that secret was safe because he would think anal sex was perverted, poor bugger, so he would never ask and she wouldn't dare even mention it.

Why was I in this situation?

Well, leaving aside the psychological explanations, the gospel according my psychoanalyst, that is, Sue, now 59 to my 63, had a smile to melt your heart. What's more, she was a five feet nothing firecracker of a fuck, 115 lbs (52 kgs), with pert, perfect, natural breasts, permanently erect nipples, ultra flat tummy, and firm, firm butt.

With only one kid from over twenty years ago, twenty years of hard, hard workouts and walks, I'm sure readers can imagine the sweet, tight pussy nestled between her legs.

But the joys of her, all of her, were only available, and I emphasize only, when she felt like it. Not for her the charity of just fucking because her partner 'needed it.'

So that was always a constant source of tension between us, her ability to go long periods without the urge for sex, or, indeed, male love or companionship, and my need for both love and to fuck frequently.

In short, when Sue is horny, she's really, really fucking horny; when she's not, she's really, really fucking not.

It's true that between my marriages, especially between numbers two and three, and after number three, I sought the emotional safety of sex workers to fulfill my sexual needs [in modern New Zealand, we have probably the most liberal sex industry laws in the Western world]. My second marriage had ended in traumatic circumstances, with a health disaster robbing my then wife of her previously willing fulfillment of my needs.

My response, according to my shrink, after being eventually released, after eight years, from my duty of care by the course of nature, was a desire to 'catch up' all that sex my brain told me I had missed out on.

But this story isn't about me.

It's also true, and I don't wish to mislead, that Sue is no oil painting, as we say. Her face showed all the normal wrinkles for her age, or even more, and her thin lips and angular features were an accurate reflection of her often mean spirited nature, but any 30 year old woman would be proud of her figure, and her pussy fitted my cock like a well oiled, tight, pigskin glove. So, yes, I was both in love and cunt struck.

The one, imperative truth in our relationship is that, to me, she is the most beautiful woman in the world, always.

That's including all her many foibles; her hostility towards men in general; her deliberate meanness to me: I understand it all, but I can't make her love me.

By this stage of our relationship, I had certainly accepted that Sue didn't, or couldn't, reciprocate my intense feelings for her, and, anyway, I had learnt almost from the beginning not to rely on her for sex. She was far too fickle and unreliable in that regard. Sex with her was a bonus, one which I gratefully accepted but knew I couldn't depend upon.

Of course, I also harbored the usual delusion, according to my shrink, that one day she would come to love me, but in the meantime, as I once said to her during one of our 'breaks', "The show must go on." Meaning, I'm not going to sit around depriving myself of sex when she cuts me off.

Perhaps not my smartest comment ever, as it was often thrown back in my face.

She knew from our pillow talk that I enjoyed the swinger sex, meeting couples solo, who just wanted another cock to play with, and even the odd gangbang. I arranged many similar trysts for my wife in our swinging days.

Sue always listened avidly to these revelations, then expressed her disgust at my behavior. I used to kick myself after telling her a new story and then being on the receiving end of her abuse. I guess I'm a sucker for a tight pussy.

But Sue is full of surprises, pleasant or otherwise, and this Sunday morning I received a text telling me she had broken with John for good.

"We're now just friends," she wrote.

"OK," I replied. It pays to be noncommittal, I had long discovered. Let her make the running.

"Jumping today, but we can catch up during the week, if you like."

That's the thing, with Sue, when she was being nice, she was very nice. But her mood could shift in moments. Oh well, we'll see, I suppose. So I replied:

"OK. Have a good one. Look forward to hearing from you."

About an hour later, though, I received another text:

"No jumping today, too cold and too windy. I'd end up in Australia. Cum on over and take me for a spa. I've booked us a private room at Waiwera."

The 'cum' indicated sex was on the agenda, and the invitation to her home told me her fling with John was truly over. And for some reason, knowing she hadn't even fucked him in all that time pleased me. I know that's hypocritical, but there you have it. Just a guy thing, I suppose.

So, I was probably about to get lucky that weekend, unless, as Sue would put it, "You fuck it up." My sacrificial swimmers began to happily wriggle towards their launching zone at the thought.

When I got there, she was just out of the shower and was wearing her pink bathrobe that never stayed closed properly. I took my place on her sofa while she made me a coffee. When she brought me the coffee, she straddled my lap and nuzzled close. Of course, her robe fell open so I had a nice view of her gorgeous tits, all the way down to her always erect nipples.

"I've got a confession," she said, lifting my head by my chin to look directly into my eyes, exactly like my Tantra massage provider who often caught me looking at her pussy instead of her eyes.

Uh oh, who has she been fucking!

I smiled, waiting. How bad can this be?

"You know I said I never had sex with John?"

I nodded, knowing what was coming but wondering why she was telling me this.

"Weell," she murmured, wrapping her arms around my neck, now that she knew she had my attention, "I sort of did, once, but not really."

"Once?" In a voiceof disbelief.

"Well, maybe two or three times, but, you know, not really."

She was fondling my ear with her tongue, knowing I liked that and obviously hoping to distract me.

"Did he get his cock into you?"

"Weell, yes, just for a little bit. But then he went soft and that was it."

"Every time?"

"Yes," resignedly, rather forlornly, in fact.

I stayed silent, absorbing the information. She continued:

"Neither of us came, ever, so, you know, it wasn't really sex."

"Yeah, right. OK. How long before he would go soft?"

"Oh, quite a while, I suppose."

"Was it nice for you?"

"A willy in my pussy is always nice," she smiled, "But, no, not much fun, as I've told you before. And yesterday, he said he just wants to be friends. So I guess he felt the same."

I didn't know if that meant she fucked him yesterday, or not. Either way, it didn't bother me. I never knew their sex life was so spare and unfulfilling. It confirmed my suspicion that she was actually more interested in his wealth, but she would never admit to that. Not being wealthy, it wasn't a consideration, for me.

Suddenly, she leaned hard into me, her breasts meeting my chest and her hips grinding her groin onto my cock through my jeans.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, noticing my erection, "You naughty boy! I guess you're not too upset, are you?"

Well, actually, no, not at all, I thought.

I whispered into her ear, "Is he bigger than me?"

"Yes, longer," she whispered back, "And fatter. A really tight fit."

Then she sat up straight in my lap, looked at me with her sexiest grin, and said, " You would have loved to watch that go in, wouldn't you?

She's right. I knew I would have. The first time I took my most recent ex-wife to meet a new man for sex, I loved watching him slowly penetrating her pussy with a larger member. Longer, anyway, as many men are, but we never met a man fatter than mine, so I took Sue's confession with a dose of salts.

Without giving me time to reply, Sue climbed off my lap, knelt at my feet, and urgently slid my jeans off my hips.

Naturally, I lifted my butt up so she could take them and my undies down to my ankles.

Of course, my erect cock bounced up, dribbling precum.

She was delighted at the sight, and promptly began licking at my cockhead, nudging the tip of her tongue into my pee hole and visibly savoring the taste of my semen in her mouth.

Looking up with a cheeky smile, she observed, "You liked that little story, didn't you? And I'm right, aren't I, you would've liked to have been there, too?"

Well, I couldn't deny that, so I just smiled and said, "So was it two or three?"

She laughed out loud, happy to have that doubt in my mind.

"Dunno. Lost count, really."

Yeah, right, she was the most mathematically inclined woman I had ever met.

At these times, being in her company was delightful. Not only was she a dirty, horny sexual partner, but she was exceptionally nice to me, by her standards, that is. I'm sure that to an outsider, she was still being an absolute bitch, but, with my eyes studded with stars of love and clouded by desire for her, I hardly noticed.

Then, in her usual dominant manner, she stood and said, "We'll finish this at the spa, OK? We're on a time limit. I'll get dressed and we'll go for lunch."

It's no use arguing with her, so I reluctantly pulled up my pants and drank my coffee while she dressed. It crossed my mind that she had cleverly diverted attention from her confession, which, to be honest, didn't concern me in the least. I mean, it wasn't any of my business, anyway, and I was always amazed that John didn't take the opportunity to fuck the ass off her, like I was doing on those lazy Sunday mornings.

So off we went and parked opposite a local cafe. As we crossed the street she muttered, "Oh, bugger, Steve's here."

Steve's her ex-husband from about 20 years ago. But they still mix at the skydiving club and do the odd walk together. And he's her handyman on call.

"So?" I was puzzled. I mean, I knew he existed and all that. We had met once, briefly, when Sue and I were sitting at an outside table, having coffee. He was a bigger guy than me, and pleasant enough.

"He's broken up with his newest girlfriend and he'll want to moan about it to me."

Sure enough, we ordered, signals must have been exchanged, and she went over to chat with him, leaving me alone like an unwanted cock at a swingers party.

When our food arrived, she came back to our table, announcing:

"Steve's miserable. He's coming to the spa with us."

"Oh for fucks sake!" I couldn't help it. What sort of crazy shit was this? Her ex fucking husband coming to spoil my party?!

"Stop complaining!" She lowered her voice. "He's as horny as fuck, so I want to tease him by making him watch me prancing around naked, OK? I'll finally get him back for fucking Sharon up the street while I was at work, the bastard."

Well, that got me interested! So I refrained from exclaiming, "That was twenty fucking years ago!"

"And you're going to get sex, not him," she growled, "So don't worry and let me have my fun!"

"OK, OK."

What else could I say?

My overwhelming desire to fuck her gave her all the power, and she knew it.

We eventually stood up to leave. Sue signaled to her ex-husband, and he did the same, walking to our respective cars. The spa is about 20 mins north of Auckland from Mairangi Bay.

Once on the open road, she reached under her T-shirt and removed her bra.

"Steve hasn't seen these for a while," she said, lifting her shirt and tucking it under her chin, turning towards me, and jiggling her tits with her hands, a big grin on her face.

"Nor your pussy," I replied with a smile. "Were you shaven then? Are you going to flash that, too?

"Always shaven. Watch and see, but anyway, nothing he hasn't seen before."

In addition to their long ago married life, there was also that naked club skydive, relatively recently, and probably other occasions for shared nudity in the club setting that I didn't know about, so she had a point.

I laughed, "But more than just seen!"

Sue ignored that because she was busy repositioning herself to be as visible as possible to Steve, like he was in the back seat, lifting her tits towards me and pinching her nipples, but I was trying to concentrate on the road.

I checked in the rear vision mirror.

"He's right behind us. He's getting a good look already," I said, admittedly enjoying her show more than I cared to admit.

"Oh," came her cheerful reply, "I'll be making sure he gets a good fucking look at what he's missed over all these years. I'll teach him for fucking that fat bitch!"

Oh boy, Sue can hold a grudge, alright!

Giggling now, truly enjoying herself, she stroked my cock through my jeans, laughing as it started to grow once more.

"Ha ha, this will fuck him up," and she ducked her head to above my lap, bobbing as though giving me a blow job.

"It'll fuck me up!" I said. "Look, seriously, you're not thinking of..."

"No fucking way! But stop your fucking bitching or I will!"

And she would, too, if I pissed her off too much.

Before I could reassure her, she continued:

"Anyway, what do you care? You watched your wifey fuck dozens of guys. You said you loved it!"

"OK, OK. Don't make me wait too long before I can get my cock in you, that's all I ask."

"You'll wait until I'm ready. I'm going to have fun teasing the fuck out of you two stupid men."

She refastened her bra and relaxed back in the seat.

After we were shown to the spa pool, Sue wandered off to the toilet. Steve and I looked at each other, I shrugged and stripped. He did the same, revealing we were both in reasonable shape and both shaven smooth. His cock was longer and just as fat as mine. I'm older, so my balls hung down more. We were both already showing the nascent tumescence of sexual anticipation.

We placed our clothes in the lockers and our towels on the sole barbecue-style table. When Sue re-entered the room and locked it behind her, we were both in the pool, grinning, elbows up on the flush concrete floor, chins in our hands, eyes fixed on her.

"Look at you two! Can't wait for me to get naked! You've both seen it all before!"

For some reason, this mattered to Sue. Once, when she was teasing me about whether or not to send a pic of her tits to another skydiving club member, her good mate, Craig, I called her bluff, so she poked her tongue out and hit send, saying, "He's seen them before."

Facing us, she lifted her T-shirt over her head, and placing it in the locker. Next, the jeans came off, leaving just bra and panties. Turning to face away from us, she unhooked her bra, letting it fall into her hands. Then, still facing away, she wriggled her butt and slowly slid her panties all the way down to her ankles, fully bent over, everything on display. Then she turned to face us, big, sexy smile, hands on hips, giving us a long look at her beautiful body.

Then the teasing started. This was what Sue loved. She reveled in the power over men her gorgeous, naked body bestowed upon her. Many a night she had entertained me with sexy stripteases in her living room, modeling the risque outfits tucked into her bedroom drawers, and, with her "look, don't touch," policy, slapping away any attempt from me to get hands on, until she was ready.

That John hadn't succumbed to her power had been at once a mystery, a rejection and a challenge, for her. Now Sue was released from that state of perpetual frustration, she was clearly intent on making the most of her freedom, at least, in this moment.

Walking over to the edge of the pool, standing directly above us, she did a little hip jiggle, wobbled her tits, stretched back the completely bald skin covering her Venus mound, and fully exposed her sexy clitoris, humming, "...mhmm, mhmm, mhmm..."

"Fuck me, that didn't take you long!" I exclaimed.

"Lucky you, " she said, but it was Steve she was showing off for, as she had now moved to be directly in front of his stupidly grinning, upward gaze. He was openly ogling her tits and pussy.

"Remember this?" she said.

Then, fuck me days, she slowly squatted down right in front of him, her clitoris only a few inches from his nose, and even I could see her little female cockhead emerging from her hood. She was a horny little bitch today! I guess John did me a favor with his inexplicable sexual reluctance, after all.

"...mhmm, mhmm..." With two fingers, she parted her lips and rubbed her clitoris.

Steve couldn't resist and reached for her pussy, but she slapped him away, standing up.