I didn’t waste too much time speculating, I knew I was going to get into Libby’s knickers and that was something I definitely wanted to happen. Undressing down to our underwear, Libby barefoot and wearing a white bra and white bikini-style panties, and me dressed in only green underpants, we made out on the bed. Libby’s hands touched my erection through my undies, and I felt my wife’s tits through her bra and her bottom and the outline of her pussy through her panties.
Sliding off my underpants, I watched as Libby took off her bra to show her tits and her knickers and my erection rose as I saw my wife’s blonde pubic hair, her pussy and her bare bottom. After more fooling around, Libby jerking me off and me finger-fucking her up her fanny with my fingers getting covered in sticky pussy juice as well as teasing the sensitive skin separating her vulva and her anus, Libby lay flat on her back and spread her legs wide, showing off her snatch to me.
I got on top of Libby to mount her and pushed my erection deep up her hot, wet and sticky cunt, my manhood filling Libby’s vagina nicely, my wife gasping as I entered her. I fucked Libby in the missionary positon, and while it was obviously was pleasurable, it was some of the most vanilla, Patrician sex one could imagine.
While I had grown to detest my domineering wife’s loud voice and foul mouth, years ago when we were younger it was a real turn on when Libby got going during sex, screaming and shouting and swearing, turning the air blue. Tonight she just lay there with her legs open as we fucked, staring at the ceiling. We were like a church-going married couple having sex in 1955 than a copulating couple in the modern day.
I had little doubt my wife was wishing it was not me on top of her but her younger lover Todd, and that stung. However, as I pushed deep inside Libby, I found myself fantasizing that it was not my wife’s twat I was fucking, but the tight teenage twat of young Montana next door. And it wasn’t the first time during sex with Libby that I had imagined I was having sex with Montana instead.
Still, the musty feminine smells of Libby’s aroused pussy were a huge turn on, and it wasn’t long before my orgasm swept over my body, my balls ejaculating a stream of sticky white semen out of my cock and up into my wife’s pussy, the sperm spraying up past Libby’s cervix and into her birth canal. However, as Libby had an IUD it prevented any sperm swimming around her uterus and up her fallopian tubes to find any eggs released by her ovaries.
Libby’s IUD was great at preventing her getting pregnant and meant that we didn’t have to worry about condoms or Libby taking the pill. However, it also meant that Todd got to hump my wife without a condom too.
As soon as I came, so did Libby. The toes on my wife’s bare feet clenched, her legs flew outwards and she squealed as the orgasm went from her clitoris and through her vagina and up her rectum, a wave of sticky pussy juice saturating my groin and adding to the smell of vagina in the bedroom. I pulled my dick out of Libby’s cunt, and admired her sticky crack covered in female wetness and residual semen.
Getting our breaths back post-coitus, Libby and I kissed and caressed before she said, “Shower time,” and led the way into our bathroom on her bare feet, me admiring Libby’s bare bottom on the way there.
Being in the bathroom with Libby for a shower after sex was much better than being in the bathroom with her last night, where she sat on the toilet and had a massive smelly shit while interrogating me about how I had gained another half a kilo when I was supposed to be on a diet.
Libby and I kissed and caressed under the warm water droplets, and watching my wife wash her boobs, bottom, pussy and anus was a turn on, so much so I could feel the stirrings of another erection. I watched the soap running down Libby’s legs to her bare feet and the shower floor, and enjoyed seeing Libby’s triangle of blonde pubic hair filled with suds and bubbles as she washed her cunt.
However, in my mind’s eye Libby shimmered and vanished and was replaced with a naked Montana, the young girl washing her pussy in front of me. My imagination was struggling with one thing that I didn’t know, and that was whether Montana had visible pubic hair. My wife had pubes because like me Libby was a Generation Xer and it was more common for middle aged women to have pubic hair. It seemed young women of Montana’s age completely removed their pubic hair, but given Montana’s like for retro-style things perhaps she was an exception and if one looked down the front of her knickers one would find a full bush of brunette pubic hair? It was fun to speculate, but I had zero chance of getting into Montana’s teen panties, so I would never know for sure.
Our shower finished, Libby and I turned off the shower and dried off, Libby putting on clean white panties and an oversized tee-shirt and me boxer shorts before we went to bed. Libby seemed happy enough with sex tonight, but I knew that I was just a warm-up for what she had planned tomorrow evening with somebody else not me.
*
On Saturday mornings, we were always up early doing chores and it was the day where Libby prepared all her super-healthy food for the week ahead. I knew better than to go into the kitchen and bother my wife while she was concentrating unless I wanted to get screeched or sworn at, or have a zucchini thrown at my head which happened one time when Libby was doing this during her monthlies and I asked her a dumb question.
Today I noticed that Libby seemed distracted. She kept looking at the clock in the kitchen, her wrist watch and at the time on her phone, as though she couldn’t wait for the day to pass. “What are you clock-watching for my dear?” I mumbled sarcastically when I was out of Libby’s earshot. The question of course was 100 percent rhetorical. I knew very well what that wife of mine was eagerly anticipating, and it sure as fuck didn’t involve me.
I went upstairs to tidy and dust my study, mainly because it was safer, but because there were more interesting things to see in garden of the house next door. Like us the Miles family had a swimming pool, and sometimes I would be treated to the sight of Montana, her best friend Annabel and other girlfriends of the pair from their school using the pool in warm weather. But as it was now into autumn, the Victorian weather was starting to cool off leading up to winter, so there were no nubile, barefoot teenage girls dressed in bathers and bikinis there today.
Instead, my attention went to the clothes line. There was nothing on it yet, but this changed very quickly when the back door opened, and out stepped Montana in a cute pair of short denim overalls over a white tee-shirt, sneakers and socks on her feet. She carried with her a basket of laundry.
From my position behind the blinds, I watched intently as Montana began to remove her clothes for the line. She was certainly a girl who liked routines, doing her laundry every Saturday morning without fail. And I was always there watching her hang out her clothes.