Remembering My-Ex 3

Friday of that Labor Day weekend was mostly sex and more sex, the sort of thing we can’t talk about here on ST.  By the time we called it a night that day, we were both pretty wiped out.

Saturday morning, at breakfast, we became aware that a couple of the neighboring cabins were occupied. As the day went along, various neighbors stopped by to say “Hi” to Jane.  Most were surprised and saddened to hear of Ed’s passing, and surprised also that Jane had an ex-husband with her for the weekend.  Late afternoon, we grilled the steaks I’d brought on the grill outside and sat around for a couple of hours with the neighbors.  But finally, Jane decided to call it a night and soon we were inside, the place was locked up for the night, and we were naked again in the bedroom.  

“Remember our naked weekends?” she asked as she tossed her bra aside.  

“Yep.”  Two to three times a year we had declared a “naked weekend,” when we would strip down after getting home from work on a Friday evening; then we would not get dressed until the following Monday morning.  This was usually during warmer months of the year, when we could enjoy the pool in our backyard.  Generally, we’d do whatever needed to be done around the house – cleaning, laundry, things like that – but when the mood struck, we’d either fuck or masturbate.  It wasn’t unusual to walk into another room and see the other going at it.  

“Another turn-on for me, though I guess I never admitted it,” she said.  “Did like to catch you jacking off, especially when I could watch and know you weren’t aware of me.”  

“Ditto here.  My favorite memories are walking in on you and seeing your hand inside your panties, rubbing for all you were worth.”  

“I’m curious, Matt.  Did you ever smell my panties?  You know, dig a pair out of the dirty laundry and check ‘em out?”  

“Wish I had.  Wasn’t into that back in those days.  Didn’t know what I was missing.  And in fact, haven’t done much of it at all.  No chance the last several years.”  

She grinned, reached over and grabbed the panties she’d just taken off, slipped them back on, and then hopped up onto the bed.  “Come here,” she said, patting the bed beside her before reaching down and starting to stroke herself on the outside of the panties.  I got onto the bed, knelt beside her, cock getting hard, and watched as she did herself. She started slowly at first, then slipped her hand inside her panties and went faster and faster.  I stroked my hard cock slowly, wanting more to watch her than to get off. “Don’t cum yet,” she said at one point in time.  “I want to do you when I’m finished here.” “Okay.”  I backed off a bit on my stroking. A long thin string of pre-cum oozed out and down onto her right breast.  

Soon she was cumming. As always, it was long and hard, her legs spread wide, chest flushed, nipples rock hard.  When she was done, and after coming down a bit from her cum high, she brought her hand out from her panties. She pushed the material down into her vagina, rubbed it around, pulled it out, and then took the panties off.  

“On your back,” she instructed. When I complied, she handed me her freshly used panties.  “Enjoy.”  And enjoy I did.  Her scent was strong and the gusset of the panties were wet with her juices.  I held them against my mouth and nose and just inhaled as she started to lightly touch and stroke my now aching cock.  

“Love your cock.  So hot, so hard. Tight balls, too.”  For the next several minutes she worked my balls, gently at times, a bit more firmly now and then. All the while maintaining a light stroking motion along my cock, her fingertips sometimes just brushing the sides; now and then she stopped to taste my pre-cum, sometimes rubbing the pre-cum on the frenulum and swirling it around the head.  I quickly realized that she hadn’t lost her touch.  Four, five, six times she sensed when I was close to exploding; she would then close her fingers tightly around the base of my cock, holding me off.  

“Best thing about your cock,” she offered again, “so thick.  Always made me feel full when you fucked me.  And plenty to hold, too.”  After that comment, she reached down with her tongue, licked up the pre-cum that was flowing. Then she gently sucked the swollen head and sat back again.  “Mouthful and a half, too.”  

“Mmmm…that feels good,” I muttered, my mouth and nose still savoring her scent.  

“Yeah, I can tell.  You ready to squirt for me?”  

“Oh yeah…”  

In response, she gripped my cock harder and started stroking it faster.  “Like old, old times, back in that Chevy before we got married.  Loved to feel your cock, loved to make you cum. Come on now. That’s it. Cum for me.”  In spite of the fact I’d cum more in the past few days than I had in weeks, I exploded.  The first shot of thick, white cum landed high on my chest. The next two on my chest and hers; the rest pooled on my heaving stomach.  She kept her stroking going for another minute or two, finally stopped, and leaned down and licked up the cum on my stomach.  

“Always did like your taste too,” she said.