1. The End Of The Drought


    Date: 8/24/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: reliefworker69, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    luck. Breathlessly, she’d run upstairs, thrown off her clothes and almost ritually tried on her new purchases. She’d paused a little to survey her offering to him before putting on the dress. She could almost fancy herself! The colour of the lingerie looked great against her skin; her bust was so firm and grabbed attention. Her bum didn’t look at all bad and she was pleased with the contrast of the dark of her panties and stockings with the pale of her thighs. And when her dress was on – woe betide any guy who tried to ignore her. She’d not wasted any time in peeling off the dress, though: she had no idea how long she had to herself. She’d hung it deep in her wardrobe, far from prying eyes, and walked back across the bedroom, catching sight of another woman in the full-length mirror. No, that was no other woman; that was her in all her renewed glory. She was impressed. She sat on the bed, kicked off her shoes and carefully rolled down her stockings. She reached behind and undid her bra, feeling her breasts’ weight as she slid it off her shoulders. She was flushed, she noticed, and her nipples had darkened and stiffened. Her fingers trembled like a young girl’s as she ran their tips around her nipples. She’d always loved having her breasts played with. Oh Christ – it was happening again. She kidded herself that she was just reaching down to take off her panties but her fingers pushed inside the soft material to feel her moistness. She fell backwards on the bed and parted her ...
    legs a little. She ought to take the panties off, but they were part of the magic. She’d have to make this quick, but she was used to that. One hand was just stroking her lips – hell, she was soaking now – whilst the other expertly played her clitoris. She climaxed in just a couple of minutes. She lay there, panting, her heart pounding and her fingers sticky and juicy. Her mind was made up: she was going through with it. If she could make herself feel like that, she’d slaughter him. Far too soon her reverie had been disturbed by a car pulling up outside. Time to turn miraculously from tramp into caring mother and dutiful wife. “Blimey, sorry.” She jumped a mile as he touched her, jerking her back from her daydream. He’d walked up behind her, gently placed his hands on her hips and rested the side of his face against her hair. She’d been gazing out of the window and, in the western sky, Venus was already the usual evening highlight: an optimistic omen he hoped. He could smell her hair and he luxuriated in its softness; the years just rolled away. He could have stood like that for hours, just being here like this was more than he’d wildly expected only months beforehand. She turned in his arms to face him, looked up and smiled. He was lost. He wanted this moment to last forever. How could he ever let her go again? She pulled him closer and he could feel the press of her breasts. She angled her head and parted those soft lips a fraction of an inch. For the first time in nearly ...
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