Doreen Does, Or Does She?
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
My mind was wandering, as it does when idling in the sun, enjoying a rare day off. My thoughts bounced from topic to topic, mental pictures flitting across my closed eyelids, like vintage film flickering against the screen that were my eyelids. As so often occurs, an unbidden thought caused me to focus more attention upon it.
Doreen. I hadn’t given her a single thought for many months, if not years. I first met her when I was a youngster, and I spent many a load of cum imagining what I would like to do with this older woman. Today she would have been termed a Milf. I can only guess at her age. Perhaps, around 40 or so at first meeting. Doreen became my fathers’ mistress and remained so for a decade. Over that period I overheard many a conversation between them, and gossip about her from a variety of family friends. Some were jealous of her, some envious, and some scandalised by her.
Being an inquisitive lad I had found my fathers’ stash of photographs of her. Old style Polaroids. Remember them? Years later when he died, I found a lot more material he had squirreled away over the years. Photographs, tapes and underwear. Not only of her but other women too. He had been a serial womaniser throughout his life. I suspect that a passing resemblance to film legend Errol Flynn in his youth did his chances no harm with the opposite sex. Despite his many faults, he possessed a silver tongue and a certain charm which seemed to make him very popular.
You may wish to form your own mental image of Doreen and I hope I can give you enough material to do her justice. She was a sometime blonde, who very occasionally appeared with black hair. As her pubic hair was black and abundant I would suffer a guess that the blond was bleached. She was often shaved downstairs but whether that was her choice or my father’s wish, I really don’t know. I have never seen her in photographs with any trimming such as a Brazilian, so I am guessing that in 1970 it was either one or the other, nothing artistic in between. The hair on her head was shoulder length and always permed. Big hair was popular. Her face was attractive however, for my taste, she usually wore too much make-up. She knew how to apply it though, and she was incredibly popular with men, so I guess for the period she was hot stuff. I heard many a bitchy comment from the women. However she was of good enough heart that she was an integral part of a group of friends who stayed close for a decade or more. Her husband was a really nice guy, but I don’t think he knew how to handle her. Bit much for him, especially with a few Whiskey and Americans inside her.
Figure wise, I can see you expecting the usual ramblings of a stunning figure with fantastic boobs and even better legs, a waist you could reach around with two hands. Sorry. This is a woman of forty, who had two grown children, leading a normal life of work and home, a few nights out dancing and drinking, a restaurant on a Saturday night. I am surprised she had the spare time to entertain a lover. I know for a time she had a part time job in a shop. My father would go to the shop, and fuck her in the stockroom, enjoying the fact that the shop-owner would watch them through a small side window. Happiness all round. I’ve just had a memory flash. I remember now that my father used to be quite controlling. She drove a small open-topped sports car. Leaving work (from a different job) she would have to pass out via a security booth. She would stop, the security guard would have a quick word and a smile as the barrier lifted and off she would drive. My father would phone her at work and if she was wearing a short skirt or dress he would tell her to remove her panties for the rest of the day. On getting in the car skirts will always ride up. He would tell her to pull it up to C-Level (his term not mine), and make sure the guard looked. She was to have her legs slightly opened too. My father would then want to hear the details of the guard’s reaction. He was a bugger.
Doreen must have had nice legs. She had been a semi professional dancer in her youth, and danced throughout her life. The group of friends organised and appeared in their own amateur dramatic group throughout the seventies and eighties. She carried short skirts well, but then it was a novelty and many women had legs decent enough to show off. I don’ think people were so fussy those days. Women carried more weight back then than they like to now. Doreen was like other women. Her weight fluctuated. When she was drinking more heavily she ate less and lost weight. When she got her head back together she ate properly and put a few pounds on. My memory is hazy and I no longer have the photos to refer to. That is a shame, but it was long before home computers made it so easy to store private images. How was I to know that it might have been fun to look at them now and again. Oh, hindsight and that 20/20 vision thing.
I never saw pictures of her in which she were too fat nor too thin. Her waist was more defined when she lost weight. She was quite tall too, so those extra pounds were carried well, and as a dancer she moved gracefully too. samsun escort She was blessed with a very pleasant pair of breasts. There was a certain amount of sag. However, they were large enough that it enhanced the look of them rather than detracted from them. It certainly provided her with a fabulous cleavage, an asset she was never slow to reveal. Her nipples were on the large side too but although she could wear a dress that was so low cut you would think she must pop out of it I never once saw a hint of nipple.
So, that is Doreen. I would guess at a size 12 on a good day, a 14 at other times. Decent legs, good breasts, curvy figure, big blonde hair surrounding an attractive face. Sexy of body and mind. A tease and a flirt. And developed sexually through the years by my father. It would take too long to tell how I know. Just trust me on this. That woman was malleable.
Doreen had two children. A son and a daughter. I didn’t know the son, but in the early days the daughter lived at home. She was stunning. Around 22 at that time, and blessed with a beautiful face, and an awesome figure. My father was obviously enthralled. Enough that a few years later, after she was married, he came into possession of some polaroids of her in some very erotic poses. She was sensational in thigh length boots, and nothing else.
Doreen’s daughter, who I will call Emma, met and married a good looking guy by the name of Ben. Tall and hunky, Ben was a confident lad who had a promising career and considered by all the ladies to be quite the catch. We only met a few times at family type parties. He was friendly, affable and it seemed to me, a nice guy. Had I been older perhaps we would have become good friends. Had I known his rather naughty mind I am sure we could have become very good matess.
During their courtship Ben obviously spent a lot of time at Doreen’s house. Even after they were married it became Bens’ habit to drop in at the house a couple of times a week at lunchtime as he worked close by. This way he kept Mother and daughter in touch by acting as a communicator. As the months went by he learnt quite a lot about his Mother-in-Law, and about his wife. His conversation would be both relaxed and wide ranging. It was not too long before his naughty nature and Doreen’s flirty side led some conversations towards sex. Doreen admitted to having a lover, Ben confided some of his and Emma’s fantasies. Of course, Doreen in turn confided the sexy chats to my father. This led to my father suggesting that Doreen dress a little more revealingly when Ben came round. I know of one occasion when Ben called, Doreen spent an entire hour with a dildo deep inside her, kept in place by very tight panties and trousers over the top. Within seconds of bidding Ben goodbye and closing the door behind him, she raced upstairs, tore her trousers down and screamed her way through an intense orgasm. A second and third followed.
My father was all for Doreen fucking Ben. Probably thinking he could wangle a way to fuck Emma. Did it ever happen? The four of them together? I don’t know. He did tell me he finger-fucked Emma under the table at dinner once. I can imagine Emma getting off on that. I once overheard Doreen saying she would love to suck Emma’s breasts as they were so lovely. She was right. Emma did have incredible tits, and was a very athletic fuck. Active and imaginative. Admirable qualities. Perhaps there is an inheritable gene.
As the weeks went by Ben would see Doreen in low cut tops, short skirts, daringly braless under a t-shirt, have the door opened by Doreen wrapped in a towel and apologising that she was in the shower and running late. Sometimes Doreen would be entirely naked under a dress. Not actually anything visible to Ben but a turn on for Doreen. Bringing herself to orgasm when Ben left became the norm. The more daring she had been, the quicker and more powerfully she came. Unbeknown to Doreen, Ben often confided in Emma how her Mother teased him. When Doreen had sat opposite him one time in a mini skirt he realised she was naked beneath and shaven. He’d had clear views of her pussy several times as she’d moved around. Emma thought this was great fun and told Ben it would serve her Mother right if Ben asked to fuck her.
A couple of visits later, Doreen had chosen a particularly low cut top. Their conversation had been raunchy. At the door Ben bent to kiss Doreen’s cheek as normal. He had an uninterrupted view straight down her top, to a plump breast sitting in a very lacy bra. Already very aroused, any inhibitions forgotten, he reached into the top, lifted out Doreen’s heavy breast, bent lower and kissed her nipple. Just once before replacing it in the bra. With a cheeky grin, he was through the door waving goodbye and calling that he would see her the next Tuesday.
Doreen was so sexually aroused that she went upstairs stripped naked, got out her favourite dildos and telephoned my father. She orgasmed three times in the telling, and twice more as my father told her in exact detail just how he would fuck her when they next met.
Doreen escort samsun thought a lot about Ben’s next visit. How would he feel? Would he be embarrassed and think he had overstepped the mark? After all, he was her daughters’ husband. Eventually she had dressed in trousers and a jumper, and put some light daytime make-up on. Beneath she wore a rather sexy matching bra and panties set. Was this just in case?
Lunch passed by in general conversation, and Doreen was a tinge disappointed. As Ben was making his way to the door he begged a favour of Doreen. As he bent to kiss her she asked what the favour was. Their faces inches apart, Bens’ eyes staring into hers he quietly asked that in future she wear skirts and not trousers when they met. Also he would like her to wear her revealing top next time they met up. But this time without a bra. She had magnificent breasts and he wanted to admire them more. As he spoke his hands had wandered down over her breasts to her hips, his thumbs slid under her jumper and stroked over her stomach. ‘OK’ was all she could murmur.
My father loved the idea and told her she must do it. She was uncertain though. But as I have already stated she was malleable, and a couple of small drinks before their lunch date meant she opened the door to Ben dressed exactly how he had asked. She had also complied with my fathers’ wish that she have a freshly shaved pussy, nestling in the smallest pair of panties she possessed.
As she put lunch on the table she knew Ben could see both breasts swing free inside her top. Her nipples were aroused and clearly visible against the soft silk. Ben was on top form, entertaining her with tales from his work, some sexy gossip of mutual friends. He’d asked her to top up his wine. As she leant over, he’d reached into her blouse cupping one full breast in his hand. His thumb rubbed gently over her nipple. Then he released her and carried on with his conversation as if nothing had happened. The cheeky grin on his face told a different tale.
As he was leaving, he took Doreen by the shoulders, slid his hands along then down her arms. The top, trapped beneath his hands followed. Once her breasts had popped free the top slid to her waist easily. Ben spent the next five minutes kissing, licking, nibbling. Doreen spent them leant back against the wall, breathing heavily, her pussy getting steadily wetter, her desire rising. Suddenly he left her. ‘See you Friday. Wear the black mini with your black boots’ he called as he strode, jauntily, down the path.
By now, you will have guessed where Doreen headed next. She went directly to the bedroom; the telephone; and a very satisfactory series of orgasms.
When Friday arrived, all too slowly for Doreen, and my father, Ben has complimented her on her dress, adding that he had always thought she had really nice legs. Spoiling it somewhat by adding that he guessed that was where Emma got her great legs from. He’s young. He’ll learn. Doreen waited for something more, but nothing happened until Ben again reached the door. This was despite her showing swathes of bare thigh as she moved around on the couch, sometimes letting her thighs drift slowly apart. At the door Ben kissed her cheek, then he added a kiss to her neck. As he began to nuzzle her neck he slid both hands under her dress, cupping the cheeks of her arse, over her panties.
‘You know I’ll have one hell of a wank thinking about you.’ he whispered to her.
‘So will I’ she replied, without real thought.
It would be nice next week if you weren’t wearing these.’ Ben said as he slipped both hands into the waistband of Doreen’s panties, and cupped her bare ass. A few moments later he was gone.
As the door closed behind Ben, Doreen was already slipping a hand into the top of her panties. By the time her fingers reached her pussy, the lips were opening, love juice flowing freely. She had several orgasms a day in the following days, always thinking of Ben, and where this game would ultimately lead. My father too enjoyed his fair share, and the telephone wires fairly burned with their conversations. When they’d met he had fucked her for several hours telling her to imagine he was Ben. He had recently introduced her to anal sex, which she came to love, and took her arse, a dildo in her pussy which she was to think of as Ben. They would soon both fuck her together my father had told her. Doreen loved the idea of the two men ravishing her, and came and came.
By the time of Bens’ next visit, Doreen had had a few ideas of her own. Actually I think my father may have suggested some. She had prepared sandwiches, so they sat opposite each other on matching two-seater settees. She, dressed in a short mini, high heels and a sheer blouse. No panties as requested. He sat opposite in shirt and tie and his suit trousers and loafers. As they finished eating Doreen leant over to put her plate on a side table. Her legs splayed wider as she leant.
Casually, Ben mentioned that he liked her shaved pussy and had wanted Emma to shave hers. Emma had refused. Could samsun escort bayan Doreen suggest some ways he could persuade Emma. This conversation led Doreen to sitting with her legs several inches apart. She countered that Ben had seen her tits and pussy. It was unfair that she got to see nothing of Bens physique. Ben agreed to remove his trousers. The seventies were the era of Y-fronts, somewhat tighter than the underwear of today’s young man. It is not unreasonable to presume that Doreen was impressed with the package Ben presented her with. Ben no doubt was equally impressed with the slick look that Doreen’s pussy lips now presented. Her wetness had caused the lips to swell and part rather prettily. What effect this had on Bens’ cock I leave to your imagination. When the time came for Ben to return to work Doreen suggested she help him on with his trousers. Lame excuses are often the best. As she worked them up around his waist she found herself inches from his bulge. A bulge that grew in size as she stared. It was a very aroused couple that said goodbye at the door, yet the kiss on the cheek was as chaste. Not so the telephone call that followed. My father was convinced that Doreen would soon be bouncing around on that cock.
The next few weeks were difficult. A couple of times Doreen’s husband had time off work and joined them for lunch. Emma even joined them one time. Then Ben had phoned to ask if Doreen minded a colleague joining them for lunch.
They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch together, and as the colleague strolled up the path Ben called to him that he would meet him at the car. Backing into the hall and closing the door, he pulled Doreen to him. A full French kiss caught Doreen by surprise but her mouth opened and accepted his tongue. A breathless Ben explained how he had missed their games. He had wanked so much thinking of her shaven pussy. He wanted to see it up close. He had opened several buttons of her blouse and began kissing the exposed skin of her breasts. She ran fingers through his hair, her mind racing. As he lifted his face to look into her eyes she felt his erection brush her leg. She lowered a hand, brushing it across his hardness. His cock jumped against her palm, and she squeezed it through the material. Years before, Emma had confided in her mother that Ben had a large cock. Probably trying to shock her mother with her worldliness. Of course she had not realised that Doreen had seen a few fair sized cocks in her time. Ben’s was like rock, and felt huge. Doreen would be unable to resist him.
Ben was whispering in her ear, asking if they could arrange something special for the following Friday. A car horn sounded and Doreen was nodding as Ben left. He left Doreen leaning back against the wall, her blouse partly opened, one breast flopped over the top of her lacy bra cup. She could still felt the size and warmth of Bens cock on her hand. You can bet the orgasms that were soon hers that afternoon were something special.
My father had convinced Doreen that Ben meant to fuck her the next time they were together. The thought excited them both. That was what he meant by asking if they could do something special, he had told her. He was anticipating a very horny and well fucked Doreen to be filling him with the details, once Ben had returned to work.
The following Friday was a hot and sunny day. Doreen took advantage of the weather to top up her tan. She was full of anticipation for the approaching lunch date with Ben, and was getting nicely aroused. Although my father was pushing her to fuck Ben she wasn’t so sure it would be a good idea. But the size of his cock kept intruding on her sensible thoughts. Time raced by and she was still in her bikini as Ben arrived a full half hour before normal. She threw on a light wrap as she rushed to open the front door. Bens’ eyes lit up as he came through.
‘Maybe I should have brought my swimming trunks’ he joked.
‘Your Y-fronts will do nicely’ replied Doreen, not joking.
So Friday lunch was eaten with Doreen in her bikini, a silk wrap over the top and Ben stripped down to his white cotton pants. Neither had seen the other in so little clothing. It seemed to stunt the conversation. However a second glass of wine loosened tongues. Ben suggested that Doreen serve lunch next week in nothing but bikini bottoms or panties. Doreen told him only if he wore the same. That maybe she should make him sit naked. That suggestion was left unanswered.
As Ben was leaving, her eased his arms around Doreen. As they kissed he pulled the fastening loose and eased the wrap over Doreen’s arms. It dropped to the floor with a silky wrustle. Lips met, crushed against each other. Hands roamed. Breasts were squeezed, nipples tweaked, arse cheeks stroked. It was Doreen who took it up a level. She undid Bens’ zip, his trouser button and then wormed her hand into his pants. It was as if his cock thrust its way up to meet her hand. It burned hotly in her hand as she worked it up and down. Ben slid his hand into the front of Doreen’s bikini bottom, the elastic stretching to capacity. Her wetness flooded his hand as his fingers opened her cunt lips. For this was no cute pussy now. This was a cunt, swollen with lust, needing to be fucked. He slid two fingers deeply into her. They were both bent awkwardly, groaning into each other’s ears. A few more minutes would find them fucking frantically on the floor.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32