“It’s more than a million but less than a trillion.” James offered. Karen swatted his arm playfully and told him to stop teasing. She kissed John’s lips and sighed, smiling as the old man caressed her bald pubic mound, circling the bud of her clit with his large rough fingers. “Oh… wow… uh…” she breathed, rotating her hips slowly on James’s huge veiny cock.
“Right. How about you two leave now so I can screw this little slut in peace?” said James, making my wife giggle.
“Would you please not call this wonderful woman a slut?” John objected, frowning, kissing her cheek. Karen’s lips kissed his and she started laughing.
“Oh, but it’s kinda true!” she said. “James is right! I am a slut! I’m a horny little fuck-slut!” Proudly, she demonstrated this by sliding up and down on James’s cock for us.
“That’s right, baby.” James said. “Who’s little slut are you?”
“Yours baby! I’m your little slut. I’m James’s little… gasp! little, fucking slut!”
James put his fingers in her mouth and she started sucking and licking them, fucking his huge pole slowly from tip to balls. “I’m James’s horny little… fucking cunt. Oh, God! Fuck, that feels so good! I love your cock in me! I’m such a fucking whore!”
“That’s right. You’re a cheating, cock-obsessed little cunt.”
“Oh, James! Fuck, yes!”
“Can I stay?” I asked suddenly, hating the little whine in my voice. My cock was an iron-bar in my trousers. It was the first thing I’d said to my wife since walking into the room. She smiled at me somewhat pityingly. “No, sweetie.” she said. “James likes to fuck me in private. He likes to do really dirty things to me. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“That’s right.” he said, closing his huge hand around her slender throat. My wife’s eyes rolled back with pleasure and she spread her legs wider, fucking with more urgency.
“Come on son, let’s leave them to it.” said John, gathering up his clothes and following me out of the room. “I’ll make us a big pot of chilli for dinner. While we wait downstairs.”
It turns out we had to wait more than two hours. Humiliated, I sat listening to our bed slamming and creaking for two fucking hours! At one point I heard my wife scream out “I love you James! Pound that fucking cunt! Fuck! I love you!” John glanced at me and then quickly away, ineffectually hiding the pity on his face.
–
Karen, showered, hair slicked back and carrying a luscious aroma of rose soap, entered the living room wearing a long bathrobe. She was glowing. James, now that his balls were empty was interested only in the chilli and made for the kitchen, fixing two bowls.
“Come here, babygirl.” Mr. Rippendale beckoned to my wife who skipped childishly past me into his inviting arms. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Was that nice honey?” he inquired opening her robe to reveal her nakedness, cupping her ass with both hands, kissing her belly.
“He did very naughty things to me.” she grinned, running her hands through his white hair, leaning down and kissing his lips. Giggling, she batted her boobs against his cheeks making him laugh. He kissed her nipples gently, causing her to close her eyes and sigh with pleasure.
“James just shot a colossal load inside me! I swear, I think he’s been saving it up! I was in the shower for ages but I’m not sure I got all of it out.” she said this, placing her foot on the chair, sliding her fingers between her fleshy folds. When she put those same fingers into John’s mouth, he made Karen grin as he closed his eyes and made an appreciative “hmmm” sound, like he was tasting soup.
“Fuck! This chilli is fucking good!” said James, snapping me back to reality. He emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl.
“Chilli! Goodie! I’m starving!” Karen cried gleefully, springing for the kitchen. John managed to slap her naked ass and she squealed gleefully, tying up her robe. She ruffled my hair as she skipped past me, noticing my erect trouser tent and choosing to ignore it.
–
James departed early in the evening leaving us to enjoy the rest of the night in front of the T.V with Mr. Rippendale. John spends a lot of time in our company, being a lonely old widower. And, as I said before, my wife is infatuated with him. I understand why. He’s witty and intelligent and ultimately charming and kind. He’s led a full life and loves to talk. He and my wife will converse for long hours, long after I’ve lost interest. If that isn’t incentive enough, Karen refuses point blank to wear clothes in his company even when Sam, Michelle and Kay are visiting! The girls’ often rendezvous with Karen at Mr. Rippendale’s home for afternoon tea. And if she hasn’t already discarded her clothes she soon will. They don’t mind one bit. It adds another frisson of excitement I suppose. Frissons all round! But for Karen, there’s more to it than just the thrill of being naked. It’s an intimate connection that formed the night John rescued her.
At the end of their “dates”, James Thompson always returned my wife nude. He got a thrill from the way she squirmed and hid every time they stopped at traffic lights or passed a bus. He especially enjoyed her terrified little sprint to our front door, praying the neighbours might not see. But on this particular night I wasn’t at home to let her in and James sped off, leaving her cringing with humiliation and downright terror. He didn’t mean to. He just didn’t hang around long enough. So there she was, naked, in front of the whole street! Mr. Rippendale, who was watching from his house across the cul-de-sac, rescued her.
And… well, as I say, my wife insists on being naked in his company. Weird, I know. As weird for John as it is for me but somehow, I’ve gotten so used to it I barely notice. No. That’s an utter lie! I notice it. God! How can I not! I tolerate it. That’s more the truth!
As normal, the three of us enjoyed the rest of the night watching TV and chatting – me in my armchair, my wife, as was her habit, nestled under John’s arm wearing no clothes whatsoever while he was fully dressed. One of his hands cupped her full breast, his thumb softly caressing her nipple. “I love when he touches me.” she confided to me. “His ancient strong, rough man-hands. He makes me tingle!” As a rule, she moves his hand to her pussy because she loves the way he toys and tugs her labia. She makes me do the same when we’re alone. It’s comforting to be touched. Heart-stopping to watch though, especially when she pulls his old dick out of his trousers just so she can have something to play with in her hand.
They forget I’m there sometimes. If they do notice, spotting my trouser tent and palpitations, they tend to smile indulgently, somewhat pityingly – like I’m a small boy sneaking a peek at his Mother getting dressed. I try to appear mature and disguise the fact I’m watching and I guess it works ‘cos they disregard me so completely now that they think nothing of having long make-out sessions in my company. A slow half hour at a time; Karen lovingly sucking the old man’s tongue and encouraging their spit to spill onto her breasts for him to lick; feeding her nipples into his mouth. She’ll suckle his flaccid penis like a dummy-tit – not trying to make it hard or anything but because she enjoys having his manhood in her mouth. Seriously, she’ll browse through her phone while she sucks him off. She’ll flick through the T.V, read a book or even have a conversation with me! John’s old cock reaches semi-hardness most of the time but if he does get a full-on boner, he’ll lift her up onto his lap and enter her. Right in front of me. He’ll just open her legs and fuck her. Karen doesn’t mind it at all. She encourages it.