Playtime

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Babes

Thank God it was Friday! Ron closed the back door behind him and headed straight for the refrigerator. Before even unzipping his down jacket, he cracked open a cold beer and finished it in three long gulps. It had been a hectic week for him; the sales staff at work had caught the scent of fresh of money as the country’s economy rebounded. They were accepting almost any job that came over the phone; product orders with insane blueprints with impossible delivery dates. Although Ron thought of himself as a conscientious, dependable employee, he also understood the reality of manufacturing; it was like a woodpile that never got any smaller, no matter how hard one worked. Being versatile just meant that you were given a bigger share of fires to put out. It felt good to be home.

Hurriedly stripping off his clothes, Ron turned on the water in the shower, letting it run until steam billowed out over the top. This was the beginning of his Friday routine; to let the week’s tensions be washed away with the grime and aluminum dust. He stepped into the spray and felt it pound down on his neck and shoulders. The clean aroma of shampoo soon replaced the all-too-familiar funk of coolant, oil and metal. Reaching for the soap, he found that his wife, Mary had replaced the last thin wafer of Ivory with a bar of Caress. Although he preferred to feel *squeaky clean*, the curved, slippery body bar felt sensuous in his large hands. Whipping up a thick lather, he spread it over his chest. His hands traveled quickly to his cock and balls; reaching further back to tickle his asshole. As his cock began to stir, Ron soon forgot all about the shop and he slid his slippery fist slowly up and down the length of his twitching shaft. Self-pleasure was part of his routine and he was anxious to coat that hefty cock with gel lube and take it for a spin. He leaned back into the spray and let it stimulate his his scalp as he continued his soapy stroking.

Ron’s erection bobbed left and right like the spring wire of a cat toy as he toweled himself off and put on a cozy blue robe. His cock was also quite aware that it was Friday, and it throbbed in anticipation of some much-needed attention. Walking out of the bathroom, he took his member in hand and tapped the computer keyboard with it, causing the screen to light up. He clicked on his favorite adult site and smiled as a list of links flashed in front of him. With his left hand on the mouse and his right grasping his cock, Ron navigated from link to link, pausing to stroke and admire canlı bahis a particular posing babe or sexy couple. In only minutes, he had brought himself to the teetering brink of orgasm, where the mere will to climax promised send him rocketing into a private pleasure dimension.

Squeezing a puddle of thick lube in his palm, he lovingly applied it to his cock and he shuddered as surges of pleasure swept through his entire body. After a leisurely *warm-up* he was ready for his last and favorite web site; “High-Resolution Amateurs.” He usually tried to save his release for this moment. Here he could find dozens of fresh, candid hardcore shots by promising new semi-pro photographers; couples and singles captured at the moment of orgasm. Real couples having real sex in their own homes, in their own back yards. These pictures held more power for him than any posed, studio shots. He enjoyed the crispness of these jpegs and mpegs; shots that revealed the delicate, minute ruffles of a woman’s labia, the ruddy glow of an erect glans, or the sparkle of trickling juices.

When he clicked on “Fireplace Fox”, the floor disappeared beneath him. There, displayed on the screen was his own living room; the marble-hearthed fireplace that sat directly behind him, and posed seductively in front of it was his wife, Mary. Well, *he* knew it was Mary, although she was wearing a black butterfly Mardi Gras mask to hide her identity from the rest of the internet world. Inside Ron quavered a volatile mixture of arousal, shock and disbelief. Further fueling his excitement was the realization that Mary *knew* he would discover her surprise here! Openmouthed and wide-eyed, Ron stared at the screen, studying the beautiful details of her body and the black lace lingerie she wore for the occasion. His erection tingled as a drop of pre-cum percolated down the length of the shaft and oozed out the tip. His hand trembled as he prepared to click on the first video selection.

The camera slowly zoomed in on Mary as she writhed seductively on a white fur throw rug, cupping her pussy and rolling her hips forward. The gas fireplace behind her came to life and the orange flames danced devilishly. “Getting hot in here, baby?” she purred. In the background Ron heard the wail of David Sanborn’s saxophone. The camera zeroed in on Mary’s crotch and she peeled back the rich lace panty, revealing the smooth, dark-edged petals he knew so well. Ron’s thumb and finger worked skillfully underneath the rim of his glans as he watched lacquered bahis siteleri nails part swollen flesh. Mary began to whimper and the music got a bit louder as the first short video ended. His heart pounding, he clicked on the next frame.

In this clip, Mary had replaced the rug with their oak rocking chair. She was naked except for the butterfly mask and some black patent lace-up ankle boots. A playful smile broke across her face as the camera slowly moved in. Instead of smooth jazz background, Mary had chosen a piece of thumping techno-pop which rattled the porcelain dragons on the mantle behind him. She raised her legs, one at a time and hung them over the arms of the rocker as the lens focused on her aroused mound. Ron stared and stroked, knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer. His cock was ready to explode. Mary inserted the tips of her index fingers and pulled herself open. “Is this what you want to see?” she coaxed. In a state of erotic shock, Ron watched as she performed one of her most intimate moves. In time to the music, Mary methodically undulated her vaginal muscles while gently rocking in the chair.

Whether it was the pounding music or his own surging blood, Ron never heard his wife enter the room. His attention was directed at the screen, watching as Mary repeatedly dilated herself and tugged on her clit hood, exposing her bright pink bean. It was the scent of vanilla musk that snapped him out of his auto-erotic spell. “Wadaya think, baby…do I make a good porn star?” she asked. For the second time that afternoon, Ron nearly jumped off the chair. He turned to see her standing there, naked, one booted foot on the coffee table, her finger working between her legs. “Nice wood you’ve got going there, lover,” she teased. “He seems to like my little surprise.” Ron was more aroused than embarrassed; they had often enjoyed solo pleasures, together and apart, but between the monitor display and Mary standing right there, he wasn’t sure what to do next. His cock was throbbing in his hand, begging for release. “Hold on to that thing, honey,” she said,”I’ll be right with you.”

Mary sauntered across the room and dragged the rocking chair nearer to her husband. She reached down and pulled out the bottom drawer of the computer desk, removing a long, oversized black jelly dong. “Holy shit, where did you get that thing?” Ron asked.

Mary giggled. “I bought it at El Dorado’s, along with the lingerie, to do the porn shoot. Now you can enjoy me in stereo!”

Mary placed bahis şirketleri the chair facing his right side and plopped down, hooking her ankles around the chair legs. “Got a little lube for a naughty girl, hon?” She pumped three long rivulets of gel along the thick toy and flashed her mate a lecherous grin. “Now…back to our afternoon movie, already in progress!” she joked. Ron eyed her up and down, smiled his approval and clicked on the next video clip.

On the screen again in front of them was Mary in the rocking chair, grinning seductively and slowly waving the huge black toy. Judging from the ruddy color of her mound, she had obviously fluffed herself well for this last segment. Once more the camera slowly zoomed in on his wife, panning down from her almost evil smile, past her erect nipples, stopping at her crotch as she teased herself with the tip of her oversized toy cock. “Oh, God…honey, this is…hot,” panted Ron, stroking himself and poised at the chasm of ecstasy. Glancing to his right, he swallowed hard, seeing that Mary had already inserted about three inches of the toy and was slowly rotating it in small circles. “Mmm,” she replied, “the camera man thought so, too.”

He simply couldn’t restrain his pleasure any longer. Mary was mimicking her image in the video, thrusting the black jelly toy in and out of her well lubricated hole. Ron stroked himself with total abandon, surrounded by the sights and sounds of female pleasures. He realized that at that very moment, thousands of other excited men and women might also watching Mary’s wicked display and pleasuring themselves. Ron felt as though he were in the center of a maelstrom of gratification, and he surrendered to it.

Spasms seemed to begin at the base of his spine and his entire body shook from the intensity of the impending orgasm. As Mary watched herself start to climax on-screen, her own thrusts became almost violent and from her mouth came uttering like ancient cabalistic verse. Thick, fat threads of pearly semen exploded from Ron’s cock, seeming to arc in slow motion over the keyboard, over the desk, and splashing onto the carpet. Mary exhaled a deep groan and bent forward, flexing and grimacing with fulfillment. Their eyes locked together in expressions of astonishment as waves of delight surged through them and over them and between them.

Exhausted and gasping, Ron leaned toward his wife and they dropped their heads on each others’ shoulders, amazed at the feelings they had conjured. His lips played at the nape of her neck. On the monitor, Mary’s image slowly faded to black, and it was replaced by pink, fluttering rose petals as the screen saver came on. The first notes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata floated through the air…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir