I had no particular intention of following up on the last tale but, after what happened over the summer, I feel compelled to share this with you. You will recall from the previous story that I am the wrong side of fifty, a respected English teacher, whilst my wife, Kelly, is barely out of her teenage. Despite the mammoth age gap, we have a strong and loving marriage with an awesome though irregular sex life but, unsurprisingly, Kelly needs more than I am able to provide. Thus, I have allowed her to take the occasional lover on the proviso that she practises safe sex, does not fall in love and, most importantly, tells me all about it afterwards.
Well, the Irish builder managed to keep Kelly amused for a further fortnight - at the expense of our poor neighbours. Some evenings I'd arrive home from school to see barely any new work done on the next door house, indicative of the fact they'd been fucking all day long. For the first few weeks I continued to get a huge thrill out of hearing every lurid detail lovingly recited by the feckless little slut, but soon the novelty wore off. And not just for me, but for Kelly too. She craved fresh cock and new adventures as much as I yearned to hear about them.
So when finally the plastering job was finished, that was the last we saw of the Irishman. And for the next month or so, Kelly had to make do with what I was able to offer, my sexual repertoire ranging from four fucks in an exceptional week to a pitiful tongue job during the height of the exams when my stress levels rose to match the temperatures outside.
Thus, with summer reaching full swing and a filthy slut's passions running dangerously high, something drastic needed to be done, evidenced by the amount of Ann Summers' entries on my credit card statement. I didn't realise it was possible to wear dildos out, but Kelly seemed to be giving it a good go. Those dildos and the other sex toys would habitually be left unwashed for my return each evening, presumably in the hope that the musky scent might work like some magical elixir on my waning libido. Regrettably not.
There was, however, one glint of hope on the horizon, with the arrival of the six week summer break. Too busy to take any more than a fleeting interest, I allowed Kelly to choose the holiday destination, and she plumped for Playa de las Americas. Packing presented little problem: her outfits were all of the skimpiest material known to man, designed to show off her hot little peachy butt and perfectly formed c-cup breasts to the max, with underwear kept to the bare minimum. Taking the hot little vixen aside at the airport as we queued to board, I whispered in her ear: "Ever had sex on a plane?"
She grinned knowingly. Of course the dirty little minx had! "Did I never tell you about the first time I ever flew on a plane?" she mused with a pout.
"No!" I replied excitedly, feeling the first stirrings in my groin.
"We went to Florida," she revealed, "a great big group of us, the whole family. It worked out that I got to sit with my favourite uncle, Uncle Bob who was your age at the time. And I was like, erm...thirteen."
"Nooo!" I exclaimed, licking my lips in anticipation as we hurried on through the departure lounge.
Despite having their own planes to catch and families in tow, Kelly's wigglesome bum had not gone unnoticed and I witnessed a dozen or so brazen husbands check her out and sigh wantonly. Kelly swivelled her hips and ensured to give a full sexy swagger, revelling in the attention. "Now where was I?" she asked, temporarily distracted by a good-looking man in his thirties sitting opposite as we took our seats on the shuttle.
"Thirteen," I replied hoarsely, all I could think of.
"Oh yeah," she smiled, legs easing apart so the guy opposite had the perfect view right up her skirt. "He'd always been my favourite uncle had Uncle Bob," she continued, "and had bounced me around on his knee from a very young age."
It was impossible not to picture in my mind dirty old Uncle Bob playing with Kelly, surreptitiously groping the innocent little girl and angling so her buttocks rubbed over his huge trouser bulge. I had to adjust position in order to disguise the bulge of my own. I indicated for Kelly to continue, wondering if those around and opposite could overhear as Kelly recited the tale: "I told Uncle Bob I was frightened and he offered to hold my hand during take-off. When the engine roared and the acceleration started, I started sobbing. He let go of my hand and put an arm round my shoulders. Then he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my eyes and told me I was a good girl."
I could tell Kelly was getting excited at the trip down memory lane for her nipples were pressing hard at the flimsy top as if they wanted to burst through, and she kept shifting uncomfortably in the seat. The thought of her juicy little cunt and the anticipation of the tale had made me equally as aroused. As the shuttle stopped and we rose to disembark for the plane, I couldn't help but slide a hand up her short skirt, caressing a soft warm thigh. With no knickers on, the roving digit found its way to her wet slit, embedding to the knuckle. She cooed as I twisted it around inside her. She was sopping wet! I wasted no opportunity to suck the slaked digit clean, marvelling in the butterscotch palate.
Safely in our plane seats, my darling wife continued her naughty tale, my boner having raged incessantly and uncomfortably throughout embarkation. "Then the engine noise decreased, the bumping ceased and finally we were airborne. I looked over and said 'I'm sorry, Uncle Bob, but I was so scared I've weed a little bit in my knickers'. 'Thats nothing to be ashamed of, Kelly', he replied 'and it's nothing that can't be put right. When the seat-belt sign goes out, you can go to the toilet'. So when the sign indicated, I got out of my seat. He said he'd better go with me."
"The dirty old fucker," I mouthed, raising a wry smile in Kelly.
"As we got to the toilets, the aircraft hit some nasty turbulence and bounced up and down for a few seconds, scaring the living crap out of me. Before I knew what was happening, we were both inside and I was clinging on to Uncle Bob for dear life. Still acting the concerned uncle, he lifted the toilet lid, hiked my skirt up round my waist and lifted me on to the seat. I was still clinging on to him as I peed. When I'd finished I tore off a piece of paper but was shaking so much I couldn't manage. 'Please wipe me, Uncle Bob', I pleaded, still white-faced."
Listening to Kelly's impassioned recital, I found myself sweating profusely in the seat. Thankfully ours was a more clement flight, the only turbulence in my pants as Kelly continued: "This proved to be a problem owing to the continuing turbulence, so he lifted me up again, put the toilet lid down and sat on it with me on his lap, facing away from him. He parted my legs, reached around and gently wiped my little snatch with the paper. He continued wiping much longer than was really necessary and I found myself saying 'Ooh that feels nice, Uncle Bob'."
"Hehe I bet," I observed, cock trying to burrow through the front of my trousers like the Alien out of John Hurt's stomach. "Go on," I craved, taking her tiny fingers in mine and conveying them to my stiff groin.
"Ooh honey, what a waste," she observed with a filthy smile, tracing its contours with a fingertip. "Then he got off, stood me on the toilet and looked me up and down with a grin. He asked if I wanted to feel better and I nodded. 'Okay, lift your skirt,' he said which I did and he told me I looked beautiful, all clean shaven and pink. He licked his lips before moving his head in close and sniffing. He was mumbling under his breath as he smelled my excited thirteen-year old snatch. Then he pushed out his tongue and started to flick the tip at my young pussy. His tongue was darting up and down, in and out as he held my buttocks tightly. I'd never enjoyed anything so much up to that point and I was moaning quite loudly."
"Oh God," I groaned as my groin tingled and a wet patch appeared where my cockhead had worked free of the boxers and made contact with the trouser crotch.
Kelly smoothed a palm over the bulge and growled wantonly beneath her breath before carrying on: "Then Uncle Bob asked if I'd like to see his. I nodded yes and he grinned, sat me down, slid his zipper down and pulled out a very hard and thick penis. I looked at it in amazement and found myself asking: 'would you like me to lick it, like you did to me?' He was breathing really heavily by now and there was a dewdrop in the eye as he moved closer, holding it. My lips closed around the sweaty head and I let my tongue play across it. I'd never done anything like that before but I don't think Uncle Bob was too worried about technique. He was in heaven, moving his hands all over my young titties and telling me what a good little girl I was. He couldn't avoid cumming. He didn't even ask if I was okay, just shot the whole thick load down my throat."
With Kelly's continued stroking of my groin, I couldn't help but do the same, shooting off in my trousers without warning.
Several hours later we sat in the air-conditioned Tenerife bar on the first night of our holiday, both a little fatigued from the flight yet wanting to make the most of our time. Kelly wore an open-necked silky see-through blouse with a slinky black bra beneath, a pink miniskirt (no panties, of course) and flip-flops. She looked as cute as a button, a real head turner in this tourist mecca.
Tucked into seats at the back of the bar so as to enjoy an uninterrupted panoramic view, every person from waiters to the massing hordes seemed to be thinking the self same thing: what was this hot young babe doing with such a dull old guy? Were they father and daughter? A few loving kisses put paid to any such notion.
Empowering in a perverse kind of way, I tried to second guess the type Kelly might be attracted to, noticing odd bouts of prolonged eye contact as the evening progessed. As it wore on past my usual bedtime, those initial glances became less and less subtle as the alcohol began to take hold. There was one guy at the bar with a group of rowdy pals who seemed to be paying Kelly particularly close attention. And of course, she hadn't failed to notice though a nonchalant air was maintained throughout. "I'm just going to powder my nose, honey," she whispered in my ear as she rose, smoothing the front of the blouse down over those perfect tits and tugging at the skirt hem though failing to lower it below mid thigh.
There was a noticeable skip to her step as she headed to the ladies, heads turning like a parting sea to check her progress. I had to admit that she looked particularly good from the rear, that peachy little arse jiggling from side-to-side as her hips swaggered seductively. A brief glance back over her shoulder was all that was needed. The guy who'd been ogling her most of the night took the hint, swigging back the remains of his beer and wiping a paw across his lips appreciatively as he stood. Toned and tanned, sporting a white vest top and shorts, with countless tattoos, I reckoned he was about thirty and, from overhearing the conversation with his mates at the bar, a fellow Brit. His holiday, it seemed was just about to swing into action.
In total Kelly was gone little more than twenty minutes, during which time I nervously nursed a sangria. Hot and flushed, her dress crumpled, she squeezed in to take a seat beside me once more. The mere suggestion of hearing about her little escapade made me semi-hard in an instant and I couldn't wait to get her back to the hotel. Yet Kelly evidently had other ideas. "Not here!" I scolded as she reached beneath the table to stroke my cock through the shorts.
Ignoring my plea, she gently massaged my balls, working her fingers around the nutsack. "Kelly!" I protested weakly.
Yet there was no way I was going anywhere with such a conspicuous hard-on and she knew it, teasing me with her tongue as it encircled her lips, before she began the recital: "Darling, I was walking to the toilet when I felt someone come up behind me. It took my breath away..."
Our eyes met, Kelly's still full of lust like a lingering ember. "Oh God," I exhaled. "Go on."
My wife grinned, able to feel expertly with a sure hand the effect her words were having on me. "I can't believe what he did! He cupped both my arse cheeks and squeezed them before pushing me hard up against the wall so my titties were pressed tight to it," she continued, all the time tracing those dainty fingers around the outline of the shaft of my rockhard cock. "I was powerless to resist, Jack, he was so strong. He raked my hair aside and started sucking and biting at my neck whilst grinding his crotch into my bottie."
As she leant forward, I could see the graze on her neck where his teeth had been. A deft tug and my zipfly retracted, Kelly's fingers working the stiff cock out into the open, only the table shielding us from a bar full of boozy holidaymakers. Kelly nuzzled her bottom lip as softly she drew back the foreskin and ran a digit over the slick purple dome. Gently she began to wank me as my eyes rolled back in my head.
Determined not to lose the bounty as she had earlier on the plane, to my utter shock she submerged below table height, kissing the engorged tip before allowing her hot little lips to swallow it, a hand stroking the shaft up and down. Tongue flicking eagerly, she licked the sticky head clean, before emerging once more to continue her tale. "He had me up against the wall, oh God Jack, his hands were everywhere, mauling me. When he reached inside my miniskirt and found I had no panties on, he called me a dirty fucking slut. I was sooo wet, his fingers slipped in easily. Then he twisted me round to face him and made me suck his fingers of my juices until they were dry. 'Tell me how you taste', he ordered with a grin. I looked at the floor, 'Like a slut', I replied sheepishly."
I was groaning audibly now as Kelly masturbated me evenly beneath the table, a globule of precum forming in the eye. Trying to act normally - if that were possible - I reached for the sangria. Holding it to my lips, I drained the glass empty as Kelly continued: "Then he kissed me roughly, tasting the pussyjuice on my lips, while he pawed at my breasts, popping them out of the bra. There were all these men coming in and out of the toilets giving me the eye so he grabbed my hand and took me outside onto the balcony. He ordered me to get down on my knees and give him a blowjob," she revealed, blushing. "I'm sorry honey, but I couldn't get down fast enough."
Kelly's regaling of the tale and her urgent attention to my cock, a clenched fist working methodically up and down the shaft, had me alarmingly close to cumming. And positioned where I was, there was no escape and no turning back. Gritting her teeth to match mine as she pumped furiously, she confided: "I sucked that big fat cock for all I was worth, though I really, really needed a good hard fucking," she imparted. "Thank God that at that moment one of his mates came outside. Next thing I knew, my miniskirt was up my back, my bum cheeks were being prised open and another thick cock was inside me."
"Oh God," I breathed, picturing it vividly in my head.
"This other guy spanked my bottie a few times then banged me so hard that I almost swallowed the first guy's cock that I was sucking. Being shagged from both ends is sooo amazing, Jack. The first one came in my throat, quickly followed by the second, shooting his hot seed deep inside my womb. It was some orgasm..."
"Oh Kelly, you're such a naughty little slut," I moaned as she brought me to the point of no return.
She grinned, reaching for the empty sangria glass and placing it over my cock as I came hard, spurting my load into the upturned bottom. Lifting the glass above the table, Kelly raised and tillted it until the few dribbles of spunk slid between her lips, swallowing appreciatively. "I know I'm a slut," she grinned salaciously, "And I am so looking forward to the rest of the holiday."