Surprise Barbecue

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A surprise at the barbecue.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,497 Followers

I was not happy with my husband at the current time. He'd gone and arranged a barbecue party for Saturday afternoon. Problem was, he didn't tell me about it until Friday evening. It had completely slipped his mind. Still, not a problem, he told me. Just grab some sausages out of the freezer and thaw them. As if that was going to happen.

For a start, I didn't have any sausages in the freezer. Or, chops, steak, mince, or hamburgers, for that matter. I did have a couple of roasts but I couldn't see myself tossing a leg of lamb on the barbie.

First thing Saturday morning, twins in tow, I raced down to the supermarket. As well as meat for the barbecue I needed things for salads and snacks and drinks. You know how every so often you do your best to clean out your fridge and freezer before stocking it afresh? That's the situation I was in. I'd been planning to restock during the coming week.

Once home it was run around and get the salad prepared while fishing the twins out from under the table, off the couch, stop fighting, have some food. Not you - the kids. You go find your own lunch.

By the time our guests arrived I was ready, smiling benignly, everything spic and span and ready to go. Except for the grave. I'd already marked out where I'd bury the bastard but I was too tired to actually dig the grave so it looked like he'd live after all.

Seeing I wasn't going to be the one doing the actual cooking on the barbecue I was finally able to relax. My husband had tossed up the gazebo and I'd moved all the edibles out onto the table under the shade. Brian was now free to cook to his heart's content while I rested and socialised for a while. Mind you, I knew who was going to have to do all the cleaning up afterwards.

I kept an eye on the twins who were being fussed over and spoilt rotten, especially by their grandparents. They were going to be desperate for a nap about three and I'd have to pry them loose before they became too fractious.

Almost on the dot of three I could see them starting to yawn and grizzle. I scooped them up and headed inside. I already had their bottles ready. I had a fifty percent success rate putting them down. Jimmy took his bottle, started sucking, and zonked off. Marie whined. She wanted to be cuddled.

I had Marie cradled in one arm while I walked up and down the hallway, talking softly to her. She was still restless but starting to calm down. At one stage I nipped into the kitchen and for some reason and Mike was there.

Mike is an associate of my in-laws. I've known him for years and he's a nice guy, even if he is of my parent's generation. I chatted with him for a few moments while quietly bouncing Marie.

Now when you have a barbecue the idea is to pick a nice hot day for it. Weather forecasting is quite good these days and you can generally plan things in advance knowing what the weather would be like. This particular day was hot, too hot, really. I'd dressed accordingly, just wearing a light strapless dress. (Might as well pick up a bit of a tan while I'm out there.)

The dress I had on had a build-in bra, saving the need for actually wearing one and no bra straps on display. Quite useful until a small child happens to glom onto the bust-line and jerk downwards. Just like that one of my breasts popped into view, all white and pink and exposed.

My face was bright red and Mike was silently laughing at me and, being a male and a pervert, checking out my breast. I couldn't even pop my breast back into place without putting down Marie and if I did she'd arc up. Mike actually came to my rescue. He hooked my dress back up to where it should be, with only the back of his hand brushing against my curves.

At that point I retreated, taking Marie to the bedroom, finally having her settled down in the cot. Giving a big sigh of relief I headed back towards the barbecue.

When I reached the kitchen Mike was still there.

"A moment," he said, holding up a hand to stop me.

I naturally stopped and looked at him inquiringly and he calmly took hold of the bust-line of my dress and pulled it down, letting both my breasts pop free. I just stood there, mouth open, too startled even to be embarrassed.

"I wanted to make sure they were both as fine as the one," he told me and his hands came up and covered them, weighing them gently, then cupping them while his thumbs rolled my nipples about, coaxing them to life.

"What are you doing?" I asked, aghast.

Well, I knew what he was doing. I had eyes and I could see his hands right there on my breasts. And feel them. Now that my nipples had puckered up he was stroking my breasts and I would swear I could feel them swelling from the attention.

"You have lovely breasts," he told me. "Absolutely magnificent. Ah, what am I doing? Making the acquaintance of one of nature's wonders, of course."

"Well you stop it," I told him, slapping at his hands.

His hands fell away, but not because I slapped at them. Totally his own choice to move them. They moved up to my shoulders and turned me towards the sink.

"Lean on the sink for a moment and look out the window," he told me, urging me forward.

I didn't have much choice, grabbing hold of the sink to stop myself leaning right over it. With the window right there I couldn't do anything else but look out it, and the party was there in front of me. Everyone was talking and laughing and eating, and I would be too as soon as I got out there.

As you can imagine, I was a bit surprised when Mike started hitching my dress up.

"Mike," I protested. "Do you mind? What the hell are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," he said quite politely, "that I'm about to pull down your panties and give you a nice robust fucking."

He did not say that, I told myself. No way did he say something like that. There again, the feel of my panties sliding down suggested otherwise.

"You have got to be kidding!" I exclaimed. "Do you think I'm going to just stand here and let you give me, as you so nicely put it, a robust fucking?"

"Ah, yes. As a matter of fact, I do."

His hand was already rubbing my mound. I could feel myself reacting to him. This was madness. No way was I going to permit this. I mean, my husband was just outside in the yard. I could see him from where I was standing. And this oaf thought I'd just let him fuck me?

Mind you, a little voice whispered, he's a very nice oaf. And you can feel how you're responding to him already.

I shook my head, chasing that thought away.

"Mike," I said determinedly, meaning to tell him to back off.

"Ah, Mike!" I said with a bit of shock, feeling his cock pressing against me.

"That's my name," he said. "You wish to say something?"

He was standing there, cock pressing against me but not yet really trying to drive home, waiting to hear what I had to say. Just say no, I told myself, and he'd back away. He wasn't a rapist, just an opportunist. Just take a deep breath and say no, nicely and firmly.

"Your cock. It's touching me," I said, and felt like slapping myself. What an inane remark.

"You're right. Can you tell what it's doing now?"

Why yes, yes I could. It was starting to push into me. Time to say no. It's now or never.

"Yes. Yes I can. You're about to fuck me. You can't do this."

There. I'd told him.

"Um, you'll find I can," he said, his cock moving a little deeper. "Are you telling me not to?"

Didn't I just say that? No, I guess I didn't. He was still coming in. Taking his time, but also taking me. Was I telling him no or not. I looked out the window. There was my husband, chatting to a woman with falsies, enjoying his barbecue. To let Mike continue to do this would be a wicked, wanton, thing.

That cock was filling me, stretching me, and suddenly I was feeling wickedly wanton. I kept my mouth shut, refusing to answer Mike's question.

Apparently silence meant consent. Mike pushed forward a little more forcefully, quickly sheathing himself inside me.

"I believe I said a robust fucking, didn't I?" he asked and I found myself nodding. He had indeed said that. Just what did he mean by it?

My god, but did I find out. Mike pulled back and then came charging back in at a hundred miles an hour, almost lifting me off my feet he hit me so hard. I barely had time to gasp before he hit me a second time. How the hell did he manage to move so fast?

I'll swear that it took me five or six strokes before I was able to fall into sync with him. Once I did 'robust' seemed a mild word to use. Mike pounded my pussy like it had never been pounded before. Tomorrow I was going to be sore, but today? Bring it on.

Have you ever seen someone hitting a ball attached to the bat by elastic? They set up a nice rhythm and the ball bounces merrily off the bat as of its own accord. That's what was happening with me being the ball that was being bounced. That first stroke had been a shocker but then my genitals got the message and they were going berserk.

My arousal was complete and my excitement was running wild. I have been known to give the occasional scream while having sex, especially if it was good. Right now I wanted to yodel my head off, and didn't dare. All I could do was slap a hand over my mouth and bounce, bounce, bounce.

It was all too energetic to last long but I didn't care. I was going to climax at any second, the whole thing being too wild for me not to climax. I heard Mike give a grunt and then he was climaxing, spilling his seed deep inside me. That first splash of hot seed was enough to raise my temperature to boiling point and I convulsed, my orgasm ripping through me.

"Well, that was interesting," murmured Mike.

All I could do was stand there gasping, trying to catch my breath. Mike gave me a wink, tidied his trousers and left. Me, I headed down to the bathroom on legs that felt rather wobbly, needing a quick shower and change.

So my husband threw a surprise barbecue. No-one was more surprised than me, I can tell you.

Ashson
Ashson
8,497 Followers
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