I get hijacked by a travel companion, taken to her house, where her husband offers her up for some fun time in her cunt and mouth.
Chapter 67:
SHARING KINKS
67. It was raining cats and dogs in Orlando, coming down in buckets. Barbara and I were sharing an Uber from the airport to Titusville, a 45 minute drive. With our addresses loaded into the app, we noted that her stop was first.
Along the way we got to know each other on a more personal level. There was no direct talk about sex although she did let drop that her husband was "more risqué" than her. In her words "He has some kinks that he likes sharing."
From the beginning, I felt that Barbara had put me in the "friend zone." This was unfortunate although not unexpected. For a woman freshly into her 60s, she was still desirable. With above average looks, she was no beauty queen, yet she had maintained a trim figure and an overall attractive appearance. Brown hair, flecked with gray, cut to just past her ears; an engaging smile and brown eyes that always appeared partly closed, like Jack Nicholson’s. She sported a nice, solid rack, proportional to her 5'4" frame. Her hips showed the usual post child bearing thickening but her torso was still slender. Given the chance, I'd fuck her in a heartbeat.
"Sometimes you remind me of my husband. Your sense of humor and your willingness to please, especially. I'd like you to meet him. I think you two would get along famously."
"That sounds like fun, Barbara. Maybe we can have dinner or cocktails sometime. It'll have to be soon, though. Within a day or two I'll be casting off for parts unknown."
"Well, why don’t we seize the moment and do it now? He's home waiting for me. It's only mid-afternoon. We could have some drinks and maybe go out or have dinner delivered."
I saw an evening with "normal" folk in a comfortable setting preferable to diving headlong back into the bizarre world at the "cornucopia of delights" marina. I accepted her kind invitation.
The Uber dropped us, in the pouring rain, at a well-kept home in a residential suburb on the north side of Titusville. We dashed from the car to the front door, getting soaked in the process. An average looking man greeted us at the door. As Barbara was introducing me to Tim, her husband, I saw that the rain had given Barbara a "wet tee shirt" appearance. Her blouse was stuck tight to her like a second skin, revealing some very large nipples protruding through her sheer brassiere.
Even though I had just met her husband, I couldn't resist teasing Barbara. "I didn't know that I was being invited to a wet tee shirt contest!" Barbara, looking horrified, bowed her head to look, covered her boobs with her hands, and ran off to change. Tim guffawed, doubling over in laughter.
"I think I like you already, Sailor. How about a drink?" He led me into the living room and turned off the TV. "Nothing but idiocy from our tangerine president, war, and famine on there, anyway. I'd rather be watching porn than the bullshit on the tube. Now, what was that drink order? Whisky?"
We settled in the living room, Tim and Barbara sitting close to each other on the couch. I sat in a wing-back chair to one side. They seemed enthralled with my stories about living on a boat full-time, asking question after question. While we were talking, Tim kept reaching over and tweaking Barbara's nipples. Every time he'd pinch one, she'd bat his hand away. Soon, though, her nips were very hard and unmistakenly visible, drawing your attention.
After a couple of hefty pours, my tongue loosened up. I teased them again. "Looks like you're the winner of the wet tee shirt contest, Barbara. And you're not even wet! At least, I don't think you are."
Tim roared with laughter again. "Well, why don't you come find out for yourself, Sailor? You know, Barbara, I like this guy already. He's got a spark. Now, come on over here buster. We've gotta see if you're right or not."
Barbara objected. "Tim, please! We hardly know this man."
"Oh, come on, baby doll. You've done this dozens of times before. It's no different than if it were Dale, Sam, or Kevin. Now pull that skirt up and let this sailor man check to see if you’re wet or not. I'm gonna bet you are."
Reluctantly, Barbara got up and stepped over by my chair. She pulled her skirt up around her waist and turned her head to look away. I looked at Tim for permission to touch his wife's snatch. "Well, go on sailor man. Check it out. She's got a real nice pussy, and I'll bet it's wet."
I hesitated, looking up at Barbara for her permission. Finally, she reached down and grabbed my wrist, slamming my hand to her crotch. She kept ahold of my wrist, not letting me get away with a quick swipe. She started moving my hand, rubbing it around her crotch. Emboldened by the booze and her implicit desires, I worked my fingers under the seam of her granny style "dainties." I could feel her hairy cunt, her protruding labia. I worked my fingers up to her clit, pushing the hood away. I massaged it with my thumb until it was swollen and erect, eliciting some soft moans.
"Well, Mr. Sailor, what'd you find? Was I right or what? A nice, wet pussy. It's real nice for fucking, too, isn't it, darling? It's so nice I had to start sharing it. Couldn't keep such a beaut' all to myself. Barb's gotten to where she even calls the neighbor men over for a quick gang fuck now and then. Isn't that right my little turtle dove? She likes it best when there's no more than three of us at one time though. Guess it's 'cause she's only got three holes!" Again, he turned red in the face with his spirited laughter.
Barb released her tight grip on my wrist, and my hand fell away. Softly she said, "Maybe it's time to order some dinner."
"Not yet, honey. I want some hors d'oeuvres first. I can almost taste your sweet cunt. What say we show our invited guest some true southern hospitality." Tim took her arm and gently guided her toward the bedroom. He looked over his shoulder at me. "Come on sailor man. You're invited, too."
Once we were all disrobed, Tim directed her to lie on her back with her snatch at the edge. He climbed on top of her, straddling her face, his semi-soft dick poised over her mouth. "Why don't you sample the taste of her sweet cunt while I pound one out in her mouth. She likes to start with a face in her pussy, don't you, sweetheart?"
I dropped to my knees, spreading her legs apart. Tim was right. The aroma of her cunt overwhelmed me. It was strong, full of pheromones and intoxicating. It was not the common fishy odor; something else, much more pleasant. I got an instant erection, firm as steel.
I proceeded to ply my magic, my skills on her crotch. I gave her the super deluxe treatment, including some anal rimming. She got increasingly wet as my mouth took control of her complete package, from anus to clit. She seemed to like it when I rubbed my face throughout her fuckbox, treating it like a washcloth.
She wasn't very vocal, primarily because Tim was having too much fun in her mouth. She'd moan and buck her hips when I nipped her clit with my teeth but mostly it was her gasping for breath between bouts of Tim's cock reaming her throat.
When Tim got bored with fucking her mouth, he pulled out and said "Now I want some of that sweet pussy. Honey, you want us one at a time or both together?"
"It's up to you" was all she could muster, as she finished hacking and coughing from his skull fuck.
"What say we let Mr. Sailor go first. He's our invited guest. It's the proper thing to do."
Barb got in the center of the bed and spread her legs wide. I climbed in between her legs, and she firmly clutched my cock like she didn't want to ever let it go. She held it in position, and I entered her slowly. Her vice grip on my rod helped pay it out, feeding it in inch by inch, as it slowly filled her pussy.
Breathlessly, she barely whispered, "My God, yes ... oh, yes ... just the right size ... Jesus that feels good ...." She lifted her legs as high as she could for her age, grabbing them on the underside to hold them up, spreading them wider to give me unfettered access. I turned my slow, gentle strokes into more intense reaches for the bottom of this wet cavern. When her inside swelling calmed down, I turned up the volume, taking advantage of her wide open whore hole. My spirited thrusts slamming into her produced a "Fuck, yeah ... oh, yes, yes ... damn that's good ... oh, I like it, I like it."
She was tuned into my rhythm. Just as I was at my zenith, moments from exploding, she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. She clung tightly to me, like a baby animal clings to its mother, as I blanketed her insides with my cum.