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Patio Sundays

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A good wife is worth the wait


Patio Sundays

Following several dates Janie took me home to meet her parents towards evaluating each other. Her dad was good fellow well met who told droll predictable stories. He then held a mid level position in the Queen's service. All confidential you know. I thought he was hen-pecked, hoped he had a mistress in the city but couldn't imagine the sort of woman he might attract. Mother M.... was a charming adept social climber, now frustrated with no more rungs available on her/Harry's ladder. Later I found her to be controlling, dogmatic, with a judgmental conservative morality. Other than that Betty could be sweet. We all passed the test.

Janie spring from this union, as did a younger lad who was a greedy little wanker.

Contrary to expectations, Janie was a hot number after a party who easily spread her legs for a good fingering. She got off on that. There was a stop line on any action which might lead to a disgraceful pregnancy. She was cute, sexy, of good breeding with expectation of marriage.

We had a magnificent wedding. The party after was a gasser. Good friends toasted with good words, plenty of wine which could explain why I asked Mother M to dance more than the obligatory first waltz. A grand time was had by all most of whom staggered out to find a cabbie. Most enjoyable evening.

The honeymoon not so much. Early on I found Jamie had little sex knowledge or experience or imagination or desire. Her legs opened less and in bed she seemed to lie still and think of the Queen. One night she admitted to never masturbating and didn't get off like her girl friends chattered about. When she was younger she explained, she began to sleep on her stomach with her hands under her 'privates'. Mother caught her, flipped her over, sniffed her hands then slapped then shouting, 'dirty, dirty!' A few more times of that till she slept on her back with arms stiff at her sides, and sill did. After a courtship with some fine fingering one would expect more of the girl in bed? But, that's not what came of it.

Sex in the marriage bed was an obligation to be a good wife and loving husband. She believed sex related to love and if I didn't 'use' her it meant I didn't love her. There was less and less rooting. Outside the bed Janie was an excellent companion, intelligent, witty and sensitive. I did love her very much.

Those months must have been hell for her too. Knowing what she wasn't, or couldn't do must have felt the failure. I began to find release with a quick wank off in a W.C. My driving sexual stimulation was not from imagining Janie or any woman (well, sometimes a peek up a skirt on the tram would light the fire.) Mostly I went for the release so I could again focus on work details.

Half year into marriage Janie had an episode, Mother M would call it a fit. Here's what happened. As we sat on the sofa watching telly she put her back to the far arm rest, and lifted right foot up on the cushion. Her skirt fell open exposing her undies in the dim light. We both pretended to watch telly. I squirmed for a better view while Janie's glances focused on the bulge in my trousers. For the longest time she pretended to be unaware of happenings. Hand in lap I was slowly rubbing willy,

'Go on, take it out if you need to. I don't care.' Janie's voice cool and normal.

With trepidation I did just that. A good wank was called for as long as I could see her undies. Must add here that I have been a crotch watcher since childhood. I especially love women in trousers pulled tight over the mound. Makes a beautiful smooth curve. Always exciting. Seeing underpants is even better in being but one thin layer over their muff.

Our little charade blossomed to full exposure, surprising dirty talk, her suggestion of photos. Seizing the moment I showed how she might pleasure herself. Possibly Janie achieved first orgasm that night, though I expect fakery. After that there was never any mention of events. It was is if nothing happened, or if it did, should not be remembered

Some weeks later the spell swept over Janie again. She had not been idle between times for she showed me her no-hands masturbation technique using a pillow. Another lascivious evening followed.

At unpredictable times, weeks or month between, Janie would become very slutty. The spell might happen in any place public or private, at any hour with no stimulation. Always four conditions prevailed, she began with 'accidental' flashing, Janie was not responsible for anything, her acts were compelled only by my needs, anything we did was exciting and felt good and was OK at the time, afterwards there would no mention excepting maybe peeking at the pix. (Need I mention those pics gave me some good wankings.)

Within three years we moved rather far away into this country cottage at the end of a lane. Whilst an easy drive to town, we loved seclusion at home whenever possible especially Sunday afternoons.

One such lovely summer day, with luncheon past, Janie took a book to read in the patio. Seated on a chaise lounge, knees up to rest the book she looked all the pretty lass relaxed in the sun. Through the door glass my voyeur's eye saw white shorts tight over her bum causing a gap in front where I could see that soft hollow between thigh and pussy mound.

With a casual stroll I went out, arranged a folding lounge and laid stomach down on the low flat bed to 'have a nap'. My slit eyes looked up her leg to that sweet hollow a half meter away. A few pubic hairs had escaped the elastic to curl enticingly in view. Janie's bush is untrimmed rather heavy, lovely. The brown patch shaded through her white under pants. Naturally I got a blazing hard on.

Was this to be another spell? I thought not for she was not watching me. Too soon she rose, going toward the kitchen. I used the moment to arrange my hard peter for more comfort, difficult when lying flat on one's stomach. The lounge was of a type having wide woven strips, approx. 5 cm, with 3 cm space between. Quickly unzipping then spreading the web a bit I stuck hard willy straight through. More comfortable and Janie couldn't see willy from where she was positioned, simply brilliant I thought.

She returned to her position, thus I had the same exciting view in comfort. I found that inconspicuous pressing my groin downward against the webbing was a slow delicious way to masturbate. The tickle of lubricating drop after drop sliding through willy was a sexy touch. Had I known the dripping strings and willy's red head were in fact obvious would I have quit? Only maybe.

Again Janie went into the house, returning in moments my eyes eased open from the phoney nap. There she sat in the same sun lit reading position. Her shorts looked to be a bit looser though. My God, she showed a mass of dark bush and half a cunnie where had been white undies.

Betrayed by the dripped oil pool she found me out. No worries. So erotic with willy hanging out, leaking, gentle masturbating with just a bit of effort, Janie's hairy quim centimetres off my nose, why change the picture.

My dear wife changed the picture. There was movement in view. Shorts moved as two fingers appeared in the picture, fingers stroking in the bush. While I watched one disappeared into the quim. That action made willy almost piss a stream of clear juice, on the pavers. Oh, how he strained to be in her, yet wanting to continue the delightful sensations without shooting off. Janie changed that too. Accompanied with delicate grunts her ass lifted straining her puss as she orgasmed. A half load spewed from stiff willy untouched, jerking widely in the air.

This day definitely was not a 'Please fuck me - don't' episode. We actually talked 'I loved looking at your cock out like that dripping pre-fuck juice. So damned erotic. Can you imagine what I thought about?' Janie grinned, went on. 'It felt so damn good to do what I did, you watching was sexy wicked. And with just one finger I actually came. Can you believe what goody-Janie just did?' Her load of pride in herself carried foreword. Through the week she bounced about the cottage like a frisky puppy, and we had two fine roots that week.

The following Sunday luncheon was simple. This day Janie choose to take the sun in the patio laying on thin lounge cushions spread on the pavers. Again wearing shorts she stretched out on her back, feet toward the french door, my folding web lounge pulled close beside her. Not subtle, that one. Join the show. I went out, moved the lounge so to have my head just past the end and even with her crotch. The lounge wouldn't work to get leaking willy directly over her face. He came down near her cheek.

'Hello, Mr. Cock.' said a soft voice from beneath. 'Haven't seen you for a bit. How do you feel today?' Gentle fingers grasped. 'OH, he feel wonderful.'

Indeed he did. Trying not to push down I hoped to delay ejaculation for a long while. Again a soft voice from below, 'Well, aren't you going to join in. Miss kitty needs attention!'

Request heard. I began a circular massage of her crotch with the one hand, couldn't get a finger at the right angle to get into miss kitty. Janie's hands came down and hips lifted as she wiggled out of the shorts. There was the most beautiful sight ever seen! Long smooth legs outstretched, a soft hairy mound rising from between, a bit of moistness glistened as added effect. Oh so close I could inhale the aroma of a woman in heat. Two strokes and I would have shot off then. The camera in my voyeuristic mind captured it all. I began a finger probe inside her. Silently she put her hand over mine to direct my finger to her pearl, showing me how she wanted to be touched. I did as shown.

Quickly Janie's hips began a bouncing dance to her soprano moans. Then in forceful voice the gentle girl swore as I could not believe, like 'Oh. shit, right there-right THERE! Fuck, no, no, noooo.... Fuck me, fuck fuck yes. Jasuse Christo, shit Sweets I'm coming. Oweeee, get in my cunt, faster fasted. Oh, Fuckkkkkk....Shit shit shittt. ..' She stiffened to orgasm with quivering puss.

Slowly stroking between her legs I felt satisfaction as if I too had orgasmed. The unbelievable happened, her pussy soon began a instinctive gentle press back response. Mr thumb found her pearl while a finger penetrated to massage from inside her. Her second coming was like the first with panting, red flush with swearing and sweating. While catching her breath her hand held mine pressed to her pussy.

Now I had to come too. Moving my hand clear I looked at Janie's wet hot beautiful, open pussy. Lips swollen by inner lips pushing out was more invitation than I could stand. 'Gonna come, Babe' I cried. She clutched my dick, pulling it near to her face. I am sure she would have taken it between her lips if she could reach. I pushed hard to her hand, then came loads of ready sperm. Janie had a third, albeit small, orgasm. She began to laugh. I looked at her. She had spots of sperm splattered on her face, hair and in one ear. Really was funny.

That was the week Janie left home and became my wife. She learned masturbation, discovered pleasures in mine, found she was multi orgasmic. I discovered sharing so much better than wanking alone, and that a woman as good as Janie was worth waiting for.

Oh, on occasions we visit Mother Betty and Harry. We make a statement by always having sex in Janie's old bedroom, and feeling sorry Mom and Dad missed so much of life.




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