Three Lovely Acquaintances

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Based on three actual ladies, whom with I have had many laughs, with their husbands along.

All three magnificently blessed in the nicest possible way.


Recuperating at home after a traumatic event which had laid me sort of bed bound, which my wife Corinne and I loosely translated from hospital speak to mean bed rest. I was happily catching up on catchup TV some sports events and some not so sporting programmes like Naked Attraction, which luckily for me, and because my wife wouldn’t watch them, were on late night schedules. The lounge was my domain for about three days, and with complete disregard for tidiness and what would the neighbours and guests think in Corinne’s words, was littered with a bottle of Hendricks Gin, slices of cucumber and handy access to the freezer through to the kitchen for ice, a box of tissues, library books, newspapers, empty coffee cups and general household detritus.

My drinking buddies called in regularly, bemoaning the fact I wasn’t going to the pub nearby for a our pints and old gits chat to put the world to right on a weekly routine. That time would return, they and I knew, but for a week or so rest and in my case, be lazy was the order of every day.

“Hi Del,” a female voice shouted from the front door which I knew Corinne had opened as she was just leaving to attend a meeting for the afternoon at a village hall, some fifty miles away and carrying bundles of files down from her office upstairs. She was treasurer of the committee.

“Is that you sweetie?” was my usual greeting to the various female friends and acquaintances we shared in various sport and other activities. I hadn’t a clue who was calling. Obviously not for Corinne and my wife answered from halfway down the stairs.

“Hi Denise, he’s in the lounge – as usual these days,” came the jokey reply, which I sort of resented as if she was implying I was forever in the front room and being lazy. I do my bit!

Denise bustled through, I was already on a high, as the woman in her mid fifties is a lovely natured nurse at the hospital where I had been sorted recently and while she’s on the maternity wards, she always found time to pop in and see me in the orthopedic department. To see Denise in full flow, marching into the ward, full matron’s uniform like Hattie Jacques without her enormity in body but with and this is a big with…a magnificent bosom, was a wondrous vision. Denise is only about five feet four, yes – wide motherly hips, but slim shapely legs and ankles.

Her and her husband Brian are also friends of ours via a group we belong to and have various one day meets in set venues or weekends away. All based on our love of classic cars and in just the three of us knowledge, Corinne in the dark, I’d loaned him a lump of cash to get them out of a hole.

My wife went off for the day leaving me odds and sods of minor easy chores and some snack stuff for lunch. Denise’s smart dark, semi fitted, blue, front buttoned patterned blouse over a navy blue, knee length, pencil skirt, nylon clad legs and two inch heeled court shoes was mature taste personified. Her fair hair was part grey flecked, shoulder length and casually curled. She stopped to kiss me and put some fruit on the table.

“I was just about to take my medication nurse,” I giggled, holding up a box that contained 5 different pills, starting to rise from the chair. “All I need is to refill this glass of water I forgot.”

“Sit down you daft bugger, let me do it for you,” she chortled, grabbing the box, patting my shoulder and trotting off to the kitchen. On the way, she called out. “I’ve got a pressie for you darling, you’ve been so kind to us.”

When she arrived back with a glass of water and the box and sat opposite, I was mystified and told her. The darling term was a norm between the ladies of the group and us men, so that didn’t need any questioning or puzzlement.

“I know you and Brian are always ogling the girls at the shows. He tells me all about it, like you do with Cori…”

“No for Christs sake, I don’t tell Corinne.” I strongly interrupted. ” She can be a bit stony about that sort of thing, I just keep it to myself …and Brian of course,” I snickered.

“OK if that’s her thing, well Bri tells me what you mention about me, these for example.”

With that she thrust out her bosom and cupped her tits in true showgirl fashion. My eyebrows shot up. There was a sign of lace at her cleavage, but I detected a stout brassiere beneath.

Now Denise is not a stunning lady looks wise, fairly plain, slightly flat chubby nose, weather beaten features, but nice eyes and a slim smile, not a lot of teeth shown. She doesn’t wear a lot of make-up either. But as a package – there’s no doubt I would! Know what I mean?

“Must admit they are a smashing pair Denise,” I giggled. “What I’ve sort of seen, you know.”

“You ain’t seen nothing sunshine, give me a minute.”

She remained standing and turned away from me after placing the water on a table nearby. She put my pill box on the mantle piece and I could see her hands and arms xslot Yeni Giriş adjusting or doing something at her front. The blue patterned blouse remained on her shoulders but fell to her sides beneath her armpits. Denise fiddled more at the front and I saw a slightly bulkier piece of a garment budge away the blouse. She fiddled some more and then opened the box, removing some of the pills – I think – then concentrated quietly, I could only see her face in the mirror and then she turned to face me.

“Ta daaaa!” she exclaimed theatrically.

Bare sumptuous bosoms were held up and together with her hands, the massive dark brown nipples pointing at me like missiles. Oh how I’d love to be speared by them. She neared me and stooped slightly lower until I could make out what the pride on her face was illustrating. Along the five inches of a tight crease between her mammoth tits, were all five of my pills. She told me to take the glass of water and shuffle forward in my chair. I got the message – but I hadn’t, reaching for them.

“No no Del, you have to take them individually, one by one, not using your hands,” Denise chortled fruitily.

I grinned cheerfully up at her, with a glance of disbelief and getting a smiley nod in return. I leaned further forward. My chin rolled on her tits and I managed to scoop the first pill up with my tongue, popped it down my gullet and swallowed using the water. The second on, similar in shape, size and colour, dull orange and bulky discus shaped went the same way. The third was more difficult being a long narrow dome edge white and yellow bullet, with a slippery surface where the previous two had a texture.

I budged further forward, glimpsing her delighted happy to be of service expression as she stooped and made more of her pale, delicately blue veined mammary tissue comfort my chin and cheeks. She cooed encouragement as I struggled with the fourth pill, a smaller, white blunt discus shaped jobby but with judicious and prolonged use of my tongue and Denise’s skillful manipulation of her knockers I secured it and downed it.

My visitor stood and arched her back, grunting from the bending effort, but still holding her boobs clamped.

“This one is going to take more effort on both parts Del,” she advised me as I gazed at the magnificent sight of her robust, soft torso bulging over the top of her waistband.

“Get up and let me lay on that chair.”

She hustled her tits into position and sprawled back, nearly flat in the seat of the big chair. She let her supernumery baps flop loose, not letting them drop too much sideways, by her upper arms at her side.

“Now there you go matey, the last one is still there,” she chuckled peering down over her nose to the flat expanse of damp, hot flesh between her boobs. The final medication was the smallest of the lot, she’d planned this carefully, white and tiny. I had dropped and searched on the kitchen floor several times, having dropped one. “It hasn’t melted yet.”

Kneeling close to her thigh, I leaned over. The pill was clear to see – very white, in the peaches and cream tones over her chest bone. I deliberately brushed my face over the near breast, then licked upwards about two inches until I sucked the pill and swallowed it after throwing my head back. Denise snickered and started to rise but I decided one last little thrill for myself.

It wasn’t so little. The stub of her nipple stood some half inch high, maybe nearly as wide, chocolate brown in colour, like a mini volcano that had spewed myriads of rocks, some settling on the vast expanse of her knotty areolae. I tasted Denise’s perfume and sweat in one suck and nibble with my lip shrouded teeth until she gently pushed me away.

“Enough Del, that’s your lot,” she murmured. “Easy boy.”

I let her stand and took her place, to watch her adjust her clothing, having caught a glimpse of her stocking tops and skin as she wriggled up. The marvellous way she had of getting both mammaries placed correctly and comfortably in her dark blue, front fastening bra was a joy to watch. She buttoned up her blouse, smoothed her skirt down and treated me with a finale of raising her skirt hem and straightening her tan stockings in the time honoured stripper fashion.

“Fairs fair Denise, if that’s saying thanks. Bri’s a lucky lucky man.” I snickered, plomping back into the chair.

We enjoyed a cup of tea and a giggle and Denise left.

* * * * * *

Tony and Frances arrived at the agreed rendezvous, our enormous American 6 wheeler, with slide-outs and the main unit, a Toyota Land Cruiser already parked by Corinne to exit the large camping site. We hadn’t seen them for about 6 months and this was the start of the season when we, with them and many others would meet at a pre booked place to have a few days of fun.

We had commented on their new appearance when they exited their Ford, they had lost weight

“Hello buddy and Fran,” I greeted them, the usual handshakes and double kisses ensued as we showed them round our new acquisition, the 6 wheeler. Cups xslot Gir of coffee and tea were consumed with lots of news, but Tony was due for a committee meeting in Oxford, taking Corinne as his backup, she was the treasurer, leaving Frances and I to while away the rest of the day, she refusing their offer to drop her in WestWay Shopping Mall. They had not long returned from three months touring the continent with their caravan and she confessed to being shopped out. They weren’t short of a bob or two.

“My look at you,” I chuckled, after Tony and Corinne had driven off, my wife showing her prowess at driving the Beast as her and I called the huge Toyota. I held out my arms in a gesture of surprise and amazement at Frances who had followed me into the kitchen to help clean the mugs and cups. “You’ve both shed pounds yes?”

“Yes we’ve worked hard, not easy with travelling abroad but Tony and I are quite proud,” she giggled.

Frances is the most attractive of three acquaintances of Corinne and I, the females of course, we see a lot of in limited but hilarious meetings. She’s a retired primary school teacher, keen walker and art lover and has no problem with dirty, ribald jokes or tales. Her hair is tight but full headed, salt and pepper in colour, close to her brows, but ever so neat at all times. There is a slight overbite in her attractive pouty mouth.

To this day I’ve never seen her in a skirt, or shorts for that matter, always elegant tailored slacks, beautifully fitted to her shapely rump which has born three children. Jeans yes, but never faded or washed out, always slim and finely creased. Again a VPL on Frances is unseen, so does she go commando or wear thongs. I know she is sixty four, but well preserved was written for her. She wanted to view the truck again, with Tony and Corinne’s interjections and asides about the size of the beds, the his and hers wash rooms, Corinne and my purpose built specs and the American gadgetry.

“Nice view,” she chuckled. I turned from folding back the wardrobe doors to see her gazing and pointing through a window. I joined her alongside, to see a MILF in a very short, one piece light grey dress, broom sweeping the porch of a rental cabin across the way. The woman who I had guessed after a few days in the camping vicinity was about mid thirties, had two children and was not very attractive with a tiny flat nose, heavily jowled face, hooded eyes and light almost falling out, poor quality fair hair, was stooping and bending to clean in awkward places. The expanse of long legged tanned legs was exposed all the way and past her crotch. Frances had obviously spotted the woman, Jodie as I knew her name, in full bend and she was, as always wearing a thong, a bright red thong, scarcely visible between her firm cheeks.

I had ogled and wanked to this scene many times. I murmured a jokey agreement and strolled from the bedroom back to the lounge area.

“You do look fabulous sweetie, stunning…” I gushed perching on a bar stool.

“Thanks darling,” Frances’ usual term. “Lost eight pounds,” she twirled as women do to show stuff off. The feathery edges of her loose, light, black top floated out, round her close fitting, dark blue plain, figure hugging top. She finished the twirl in a pose Naomi Campbell would have been proud of, except Naomi didn’t have tits like Frances’. They were firm and well supported.

“Wow!” I gasped. “And you haven’t lost your boobs in the process.”

“Oh no,” she snickered. “I haven’t lost my boobs…one…or two of your favourites Del.”

“Come off it Frances, why do you think we’ve made friends of you and Tony, it’s those lovely knockers,” I laughed. “Corinne’s only got a couple of fried eggs, for Christ sake and me a tit man.”

My guest sauntered towards me with a cheeky smile.

She held out her arms to cuddle me, so I slid off the stool and we embraced. There was no reason, no come on, no sexuality play, just two friends having a cuddle, but I made sure of moving my chest against her chest, sensing the structure and solidity there.

“Poor boy,” she murmured in my ear. Shit! That was hot. “In all these years, what …fifty is it? You’ve never had your hands on a decent pair of tits?”

“Wouldn’t say that Frances, had a little affair now and then, you know,” I chuckled as we parted, but awkwardly stood facing each other, as if what next? “One night stands, felt a few you know. Long long time ago.”

Frances took a step closer, picked up my hands, my shaking hands, and placed them on her boobs, grinning lasciviously, her discreetly decorated eyes smiling as she nodded. The weight, size and shape were all there between her clothing as I handled her breasts, as she grinned at me.

“That better, I know you’ve always wanted to do that Del…no no, that’s your lot,” she chuckled as I slid my hands to her waist intending to filter them under her top. I got as far as feeling her skin, before Frances gently pushed my hands away and reversed to sit on a couch.

“But why Frances, just that?”

“Got to keep us friends as we xslot Sitesi are Del. We can’t go further, unfair on Corinne and Tony yeah?”

“I suppose so,” I agreed. “You’re a tease though. I mean all the times we are going to see you again and I’m going to be thinking about your boobs, you lovely boobs and how near I came to them and knowing I can’t go any further…”

“Yes, if it went further, where would that be, in bed and fucking? I don’t want that, I’ve never been unfaithful, like you say you have. It’s not my thing, but I just felt you could be put out of your misery a little in an …a sort of innocent little way. Don’t be angry…”

“Frances there is no way I could be angry. You haven’t done anything to make me angry. Disappointed yes, and dreaming but I understand. I must admit my affairs and stuff haven’t made it easy for our relationship…Corinne and me, but we’ve worked it out in our own way. Lets have a nice drink of wine.”

Our spouses returned and we all went out to a local Indian restaurant to finish off the day.

* * * * * * *

Our next door neighbours own a caravan and have been on the same camp site as us by sheer chance. They’re not the sort of people we would normally mix with. Nothing wrong as neighbours, quiet, responsible and easy going. Neil, a quiet unassuming bloke, owns and runs a garage specialising in Alfa Romeos particularly, but he’ll deal with all sorts of vehicles. His wife Julie, does the books. She is in her late fifties. They have two children, adults, one with kids.

Having them next door allows me to spy on Julie, I’m that sort of perv, glimpsing views of her, sometimes in pyjamas, a night dress or dressing gown as she puts washing on a line to dry or dump waste in the bins. I did manage to get one view of her which was the one that raised my interest, when she wore only a brassiere and a pair of jeans one morning and that was when she was hanging a load of her and her daughter’s smalls and other clothing out to dry. Verity, her late 30s daughter, unmarried and not a pretty girl by any means had been staying to pet sit as they have an average size mixed pooch and obviously Julie had done a wash for her before Verity left for her own home.

Noting the plain, ordinary briefs and panties, didn’t arouse my interest, once I’d studied them with my binoculars and maybe Julie’s were amongst the five pair. There were four brassieres and one much larger,in a dark smoky grey colour, than the others and on it’s Victoria label, I could even make out the 48GG size with my high spec eye glasses, mainly used for some serious bird (feathered version) watching. However Julie’s bra did arouse interest and in my groin, especially the bra she wore. Her big knockers had naturally caught my eye since they moved in a couple of years back, but generally they were always shrouded behind loose wear, much as she wore when on the camping trips. Her tit flesh wobbled above the cups and after she’d reached high, a good inch of flab protruded below the cup wiring. Her belly was flabby too, hanging over her waistband.

The support to her fabulously massive, gross bosom was seriously under threat, in fact non existent being a thin material with what looked like only wiring to the sides. Presumably the wiring went under the glorious drooping overhang to meet at the centre, but this was all out of sight. Narrow straps dug into her spare, milky pale flesh on her shoulders and back. The garment was not a crisp white version, although maybe it had been, but the best part was the flimsy material the cups were made of. Julie has very large nipples I could see, I just love swift and necessary minute evidence of teats on any female when viewing the masses in public, but this was close and I had plenty of time to feast my pervy eyes on them.

They reminded me of Denise’s teats, how I’d enjoy comparing them. Jutting at least half an inch through her cups, I could even see,through the cups that they were dark and large, and not symmetrical, more oval shaped. I mused on getting close to her and studying…well, ogling her body in detail, but it was unlikely. We had never been inside each others houses.

Then a week or so later, an emergency cropped up.

“Del…Del…It’s me Neil,” came the shout across the back fence, just as I was going back inside having sorted our recycled waste for collection tomorrow.

“Yes mate…fuck you’re frantic, what’s wrong mate?”

“Julie’s picked up some sort of virus and she’s puking up all the time and it fucking stinks mate. The surgery said get her to A&E and that bloody plumber is due any minute to repair the boiler, you know I told you about it…” he had. “I can’t be here but she’s fucking desperate to have it fixed, what with her parents coming in two days and she needs hot water, you know…can you at least let him in, the plumber…I’ll give you a key…please mate?”

I was free and available, Corinne was shopping then meeting our daughter for lunch so I agreed and got the brief low down on their situation. He told me that Maisie, their half cocker spaniel, half poodle was in but wouldn’t bother me. Neil reasoned she couldn’t go to the hospital, so she’d remain at home, he could shut her in a room. I agreed and took the keys, front and back doors. Off they went after Julie gave me a peck on the cheek in thanks.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın