To Her Delight

"Oh, just delightful," she happily smiled as we shook hands. "Just let me take a moment and get ready."

Like an angelic lift from the chair, her rounded form of a mature tight ass puckered firm underneath the curve of her dress. It rode the lines of her body, flowing from top to bottom. Her pear-like hips were made for the embracing leg lock of a man around her, while an inquisitive fellow would fall head first into the valley of her healthy chest -- and so on, and so forth went this stacked and built woman scampering out of the room like a dainty petal of a rose floating in the wind.

Meanwhile, the echo of an old man's voice flat-lined my vivid imaginations to a near standstill, and I turned acting somewhat interested in what he had to say.

He bantered on with his own whip of a sad story. The poor chap needed sex like an addict to rehab, but even with the encouragement of medical science to drug his way to a longer and stronger hard on, his limp dick status was definitely not up to par with the rest of his perverted mind. So, the unusual request of gigolo suitors came knocking in order to suit the whims of a pristine, but according to him, a very horny woman.

I again looked over him over as he puffed hard and strong on his cigarette. With a deep voice, he rolled me into a chat. "So, what do you have planned?"

I paused, tilting my head with a casually confident cock, and gauged the hardball question carefully without leading him to believe I was out to smother his good graces. With war-pieced lines cracking from his dark eyes, his face wore grit like a chiseled mediator, unmoved and unemotional; if it weren't for his so-called friendly disposition, I wouldn't be here propositioning his beautiful wife for sex.

Yes, indecency jacked morality, and here I sat about to play crook to his swinging caper: The 'adult' ad, the phone call, the excitement of his wife wanting it so -- yes, my dick lurched at the idea of sinking myself into the wet channels of his passionately starved wife.

I leaned in ever so slowly till the smell of his breath nearly stabbed the ducts of my guarded poker eyes. "Oh, do you think, sir, you have something in mind she might like to do?"

The stone in his face dusted away to a curling smile from his chapped lips, and he leaned back, crossing his arms in the process. With a deep gutted breath, he smoked a large drag off his cigarette, the yellowish red tint of burning tobacco glowing like the reflection for his sudden enthusiasm. And I knew the game was on.

"Let me see where she is." As he headed out the room, he turned to me, pointing. "You, just have, fun, ok?" The trail of smoke faded out into the shadows of the darken hallway as I simply nodded accepting his suddenly submission position.

Soon she emerged from the dark, prancing in on light feet, and once again gracefully fleeting me with her charming presence. The way she dressed for the evening exploited the very idea of conservatively sexy, if ever there was such a description: hair up in a bun and jeans wrapping her ass and hips; the form of her body's curves moved softly up her back to the top of a turtleneck sweater like the comfortable feel of a knowing friend.

She took my hand in hers, but like a gentleman, I kissed her simply on the cheek; the move caught her off guard, but only slightly. Gathering herself she breathed deeply and this time grabbed both my hands; it seemed when her deep eyes dipped into mine, she was wickedly exploring how to better exploit my youth. "Oh, how sweet," she piped, "But next time, not so nice, ok? Shall we be off?"

Then I remembered how he mouthed her various sexual exploits to me concerning her viciously wicked cycle of rapidly good fucks -- and ironically he did so with almost a venom tongue. Maybe, he vented to get off on it, his own limp dick wiggling mightily into a horny high within his Depends diaper. Maybe. But as I observed her flaunting ass in front of me, my voyeuristic tendencies couldn't help have my own dick throb by feeling the demeanor fronting Mrs. Cleaver screamed sex in the figure of Pam Anderson bubbling just below the thick threads.

And I didn't have to walk too far to find it all out.

I barely heard the metallic locks of her door shift into position before she bolted up with a hard thrust. The place was out in the middle of nowhere close and she took advantage of the country standard. With a loud thud, she pinned me up against the side wall of her porch just where the moonlight crested into it; her breath dog heavy with long pants.

"I take it the old man told you a lil' about me," she crooned as she started more of a trail of wet whispers traveling along the upper portions of my neck with warm degree. The sincere passion of her behavior triggered my dormant dick stiff as it pulsed hard on my jeans.

"Ah yes, young, restless cock. I can take care of this, and other things too." She wagon circled her fingers like a tempting situation around my crotch before mouthing another wet, wanton kiss to the outer banks of my surprised lips. There she probed her tongue till she tasted desire from my soul; I felt the crisp cool air flow into my mouth as the heat of the moment swirled about the wet passion of our make-out session.

This made for sweaty drips falling to the floor. "Hot, so hot," she murmured feverously. She parted her sweater as well as the seams of her pants, revealing more of her healthy attributes to me: the pebble hard suckle of nipples jutting above the outline as her breasts lay nestled heavy in her bra, as well as the sketchy strings forming the curls of her thong -- the revealing visual impressed my already weak mind. I felt tense at first to even tempt such sinfulness, but I eased up just long enough to whirl my way around her soft hard body; despite the growing sweat in my own palms, it felt silk smooth against my own hands.

And then I asked it, in lagging breath:

"What's up with your husband?"

She stopped and jerked up wide eyed as though the question itself gagged her worse than my thick cock. The passion, curiosity, all of it all got to me. Hell, the whole damn dry fucking, porch kissing show of messing with another man's wife got me wrapped up in the thrilling moment, so, I simply lost my edge, and I was going limp.

"Wait, save that." She grabbed my weakening shaft, now quickly succumbing to my own stupidity, and with some vigorous jerking began rushing it back to attention. Smiling now as her wicked tongue licked up and around her lips, she massaged my member with firm strokes, while carefully rubbing the now bloated head.

"You see, baby. There's nothing 'up' with my husband." Her voice fell to a heavy sultry whisper as her lips neared my ears while her lovely hand continued working magically around my dick.

"That bullshit about how he can't use Viagra because of some 'heart' condition. It's true." Her hand went up...

"He just wants you here, because really, he's a sick fuck." And straight back down her hand went to the base of my balls; there, she went like a vice grip turning dark tan my cock.

"So honey, do you really know, exactly, what-you-got-your-ass-into?" She tugged it tough to the point she milked the pre cum to flow from my open slit and into her balled fist tight around my dick.

"Oh fuck! You hot bitch!"

The words came suddenly, and she threw me a, 'I can't you called me that you asshole look.' Still, that new look, that even shit grinning smile burned into her face, I knew exactly how I wanted it to go down.

So, it wasn't quite a kiss when I slopped it on her lips as I grabbed her head with my two hands; it was more of me forcing my tongue down the back of her throat.

And when I pulled her pants down, the smell of sex perfumed her milky thighs -- her legs simply quivered as the juices of our foreplay dripped from her. Yes, the lips of her pussy moistened in dew drops radiating from the vented thong as I pulled it to the side and parted it; it suckled me as my thumb twirled the nub of her clit, and I sunk my fingers deep within her velvet channels.

She grabbed harder at my dick, keeping it tight without letting me cum and I strummed her cunt like the cheating wife she played herself to be. The heavy instrumental foreplay of our fingers and hands cramped into a painful crescendo, but who could deny her delight in having the sex cum to a definite head.

And closer now, I inched in forward, pressing on my body to hers till she released the grip she had on me. With her back flat against the wall, she spread herself allowing me within a puckered reach of sinking my cock into her pussy folds. It was a sweaty, sticky mess when with dazed eyes she went from a hot and horny wench of a woman to placing sweet long kisses. Even as she never noticed me lift her onto my dick, she knew the moment I entered her I would grind her hard and she would ride the reaches of my shaft as she milked inches of my young cock into the deep recesses of her maturity.

"He - he's watch-ing me returning your ever-y thrust," she moaned into my ear. I arched even harder, till the head bumped bottom, and once again I pulled out as more of the cool air wrapped around my frothy wet shaft. She recoiled slightly before easing me more into her, her thighs locked into my back, her sweater covering the sweaty globes of her tits.

Over and over, we fucked merrily into the night, into wonderfully wicked positions while she agonized and prayed for a higher being to send her over the edge.

And when that itch came calling, she scratched my back for more.

"Yes, that's it!" she groaned as her pussy spasm the drip of wet juices slick on my dick.

"You're a bad fucker, and you're going to make me cum like the bitch I am!"

"Yeah," I grunted back, "You're going to cream on this young hard giving dick!"

Her body went epileptic after that. Especially with that last push I placed inside her; it was as though the drilling her earnestly into the wall of her house, she would suddenly feel the cum rush her body and she would give it all to me.

And I to her. My balls, boiling hot from the churning of the evening rushed up my shaft and exploded from the slit head of my cock and into her mature willing pussy. She felt me there shooting it all inside her, and rocking her into a sexual seizure -- her head thrown back for a loop, while she again impressed me with her locking biting teeth slicing into my shoulder.

My weary body ached as I inched her down from me; I watch her now, her sweaty hair matted face smiling away long after the marathon run.

"This sounds dumb," I say in a dry throaty whisper, "But I take it this went well." "Yes, yes, definitely. We need to, as you boys say, 'hook up' again soon." She picked herself up, waving the pieces of her hair from her eyes. Under her one arm clumped her clothes, and in the other hand rattled her house keys.

"Well, I need to go. He's waiting for me to tell him all about it. But you know, I think he's going to be very satisfied, and will want you to come back, for sure."

She leaned down; the smell of our sex mingled in her juices and filled my nostril. From there, she planted a deep seeded kiss, the last for the evening upon my lips. "You know the number, and you can show yourself out to your car." And with that her wonderfully rounded ass entered the house and disappeared from my sight.

I sit for a while on the porch, my own naked behind splintered by the jutting wood biting into my skin. That's when I catch a dark shadow by the window, a glowing cigarette lighting his face. He nods, and I nod right back.

Yes, my mind wickedly thinks, I'll have to take her up on that offer once again.