‘Til fate do they part. Part 2 of 6 parts
We were mostly silent during the morning. I waited for Liz to restart the conversation, but she didn’t. It was her way; once she makes up her mind, she seldom changes it. She went to change and returned wearing a short skirt and a thin shirt, the kind that ties up in the front, leaving her flat and tanned midriff bare. She wore no bra under it and the outline of her breasts was clearly visible.
On the way to John’s she broached the subject, albeit in an oblique way.
‘If anything happens, I’ll tell John that it is with your blessing, which will make it easier for him if he feels guilty.’ She said, thereby cunningly avoiding the ‘are you still sure about this’ type of conversation.
I said that it would be fine: we never asked each other if either still wanted this to happen.
‘The opportunity may not occur anyway.’ She added in an off-handed manner.
I grunted in a non-committal way.
We arrived and heard the remote door lock activate. When we went in, the house was noticeably warm, probably because there was no through draft with the rear doors shut. John’s room was cooler but not by very much. Liz started to fuss around him, and I went and opened the rear doors to cool down the house. Liz came out and poured some cold drinks. I took John’s into his room and we sat there chatting about nothing in particular whilst Liz made domestic noises in the kitchen. There was much opening and shutting of cupboard doors and eventually she returned, holding a piece of paper.
‘John is short of a few items for the kitchen and Jayne and Tony will want something when they return later. Whilst I tidy up a little, would you mind going into town to pick up these few items?’
It was so neatly done, and I hadn’t seen it coming.
I finished my drink and got up to leave. As I did so, Liz came back into the room carrying a small bowl of water, a flannel and towel on a tray.
‘Take your time,’ she said, ‘don’t rush around in this heat.’ She didn’t look at me.
I said I wouldn’t and left the house. Events were now out of my hands. She had neatly engineered my departure. She wanted this to happen.
I drove off slowly to town and spent a long hour getting just a few items and then sitting in the car before heading back. By the time I arrived back at the house, well over an hour had elapsed.
When I walked in, it was if nothing untoward had taken place. I caught Liz’s eye as I took the items she’d sent me for through to the kitchen, but she gave no sign. I looked in at John, but he was dozing, so I left him in peace. I cleared up the garden furniture whilst Liz put the stuff away in the kitchen. As I returned to the house, Jayne and Tony arrived back. They looked relaxed and slightly tanned; for the first time, I realised that Jayne was a very good-looking woman; I’d only known her as tired looking, now she looked rather lovely with a much fuller figure than Liz which she carried well. I noticed Tony give Liz an appraising look, taking in her flat tummy and the outline of her breasts.
We stayed for a half hour or so and said our goodbyes. Jayne was most grateful, and Liz told her that we’d gladly help again if they had another chance to get away. We both went to say goodbye to John. Liz gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he held on to her hand and looked at her as she drew away.
‘Thank you, Liz,’ he said, holding her gaze for a short while before letting go of her hand.
He faced me and held up his hand. I took it and we shook hands. John delayed it slightly by holding on and placing his free hand over our clasped hands. He looked me straight in the eye.
‘And thank you very much indeed David,’ he paused, ‘you are a very kind and generous man.’
I knew then that something had indeed taken place. We made our goodbyes and left.
When we were in the car, I went to speak but Liz beat me to it.
‘Wait ’til we get home.’
We drove home in silence.
Once in the house, she turned to face me. She was slightly breathless as if nervous.
‘Don’t ask me anything,’ she said, ‘I’ll tell you about it in bed.’
She turned towards the stairs, and I dumbly followed. She didn’t pause by the bathroom, instead she headed for our bedroom, untying the front of her shirt as she went. In one fluid movement, she dropped her shirt on the floor and lay on the bed, turning on her back as she did so; she paused, and then seductively parted her long legs. The front of her thong was drenched. When she’d seen that I’d noticed, she pulled up her legs and slipped off the thong. I needed no second bidding. I quickly undressed and fell on the bed beside her. I went to suck her breasts, but she stopped me.
‘Wait.’ She said softly.
I looked at her for some sort of clue. Slowly, she lifted her right hand and pressed the palm against my mouth. My instant thought was that she’d done it to stop me saying anything: this thought was quickly dispelled when I caught the unmistakable scent, and then the taste, of cum. She moved her hand to my hair and pushed me downward, in the silent signal that she wanted me to go down on her. I needed no encouragement; it is my favourite thing. I love the sheer intimacy of it and how it encompasses all the senses it stimulates; the subtle scent (which changes from woman to woman), the beautiful sight of her swollen labia, the taste of her love juice, the feeling of her wet clitoris on my tongue and the low moan as I stimulate her.
Then she started talking to me, her voice strangely distant as I stimulated her with my tongue.
She told me how she’d wiped John’s face with a cool flannel and then his chest. She’d then pulled the sheet up to uncover his feet and legs and bathed them also. How she’d stolen a glance and seen that he was lying with his eyes shut as if trying to concentrate and then dropping her gaze to see that he had a sizeable erection. At this point, she slowly and gently drew the sheet away, leaving him naked on the bed.
All this time, her juices flowed like I’d never known before, and I had to shift myself to avoid pressing down on my rigid cock to stop a very real fear of me cumming.
She said John’s reaction was to turn away, but she told him it was alright, that she understood, he was not to be embarrassed, that she’d spoken to me and I didn’t mind; at that point he opened his eyes and looked at her. She told him it would be alright.
She then sat on the side of the bed and taken his penis in her hand. He was big; bigger than me (I already knew this) and she was turned on by it. He was circumcised and it was a ‘gorgeous looking prick.’ All of this was delivered in staccato sentences by a voice softened by lust.
At this point, I pulled away from her as I felt the first convulsions of an orgasm in the base of my prick. I lay stock still, thinking of anything but what Liz was saying as I was in great danger of cumming. After half a minute or so the spasms passed, and I returned my attention to her clitoris. She’d remained silent during my pause. She started at the same time as me.
She told me how she’d milked precum from him and run it up and down his penis and how he’d drawn a sharp intake of breath as she’d done so. How she was turned on by rubbing another man’s cock. How she looked at his huge prick covered in precum and how wet she had become. How she stopped when she thought he might cum ‘so as to delay the moment for us both.’ In the penultimate moment, she had stopped and let go of him. As he quietened, she spoke his name; when he opened his eyes and focused on her, she had untied her shirt and slipped it from her shoulders. How John had looked at her face and then gazed at her breasts. As she took his penis in her hand again, she had reached for his hand and placed it on her breast.
‘Then he came David, oh my God how he came.’
It shot over his chest and stomach, her hands as she rubbed the head of his prick. Then, she’d leant forwards and pointed it at her breasts, and it hit them too. It just kept going.
Once he’d stopped and after he’d relaxed again, it took her ages to clean him and her up. At one point she thought I’d be back before she’d finished. As it was, she only had about a couple of minutes before I’d returned.
Her last few words came in a rush as she orgasmed, and I did too. Liz was biting the pillow to stifle her moans and then gave up as all restraint deserted her. She yelled out something, I didn’t know what, only that it was loud, very loud, and I clamped my hand over her mouth as I felt sure the whole neighbourhood would hear. I tried to enter her, trying to hang on to her bucking hips as I convulsed in spasms of ecstasy feeling the warm flood of my cum leave my jerking penis and spraying over her thigh, mound and stomach.
Liz broke the deafening silence that follows such outbursts.
‘Seems that men want to cum over me rather than in me today,’ she said dreamingly, smiling softly as she did so.
‘And where did discussion about touching your breasts come into our conversation?’ I asked mischievously.
‘They’re my breasts and I decided myself.’ She said in a low throaty laugh.
‘You fucking tart.’ I said.
‘Yes, I am,’ she said, ‘and I fucking enjoyed being one.’
I’d never heard her speak in that way before.
We awoke part way through the night, and both got up to clean ourselves. I made some coffee and brought it back to bed. We talked of what had happened and I was pleased that we were both comfortable with it. I reached over and put out the light and we lay down holding each other.
‘Would you do it again?’ I asked in the darkness.
‘Yes.’ She said.
I waited, but she said no more, and eventually we drifted into sleep.