Half-Term Break with S . . .

It’s been half-term school holidays here and S called on Tuesday morning to say his wife and children would be away at her parents for two nights. He asked if I’d like to “pop-down for pasta and wine”. I replied that I’d love to visit him the next evening. I agreed with J that I’d go straight to S’s from the office rather than have to come home first . . .

I’d texted S that I was on my way shortly after six and he asked me to text him again when I got to the Station and he’d pick me up, but I told him I’d feel more comfortable just getting the bus to our home stop as usual and then just walking round the corner.

He met me at the door dressed in just his robe, explaining he’d just showered and would run me a bath if I wished. I said I’d love just being able to soak after a horrible day at work, without having to worry about walking round my own kitchen picking up dirty mugs and plates and glasses left out by the kids and then having to prepare an evening meal. I followed him upstairs to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath and chatted for a few minutes whilst he started the water and bath oil. As he left me to return to the kitchen for the wine, I undressed and slid in with the taps still running.

We chatted more on his return and I just enjoyed lying back, sipping wine, as we exchanged our news since we’d last seen each other two weeks ago. I lounged for 20 minutes or so before telling him I was ready to get out, and he found me some clean towels. One to dry, one to wrap.

S had laid out the table with candles, bread and dips . . . and of course, more wine! He’s cooked for us before, but it’s always nice to be waited-on, and spoilt, and just being able to sit down at the table just as though we were at a restaurant (except of course for our attire).

I’d wrapped myself quite tightly in the towel and pushed the corner of it down in the front of my breasts to hold it in place. I could see him keep glancing at them as the towelling worked a little lower as we ate and talked. “It’s not going to fall-off you know”, I giggled at him. “Couldn’t I unwrap it then?” he asked, “I’ve always wanted to eat in a topless restaurant”. I laughed and said “Go on then”. He reached over and pulled it loose. The towel unwrapped and fell away as I continued with my pasta, pretending to be nonchalant as though nothing had happened. I just jiggled a little as I lifted the fork up to my mouth and, suggestively, guided the pasta inside. I was trying not to giggle as he gasped out “Fantastic, your tits are always fantastic. I think about them all the time”.

We continued with our meal . . . and although I was momentarily enjoying myself, exaggerating my movements reaching across for bread, or sipping on my wine . . . and could feel that my nipples were quite hard and loving the way he was looking at them . . . we were soon chatting again quite normally.

Once we’d finished, S got up to top-up our glasses and then said that he had some DVDs that we could watch in the living-room. He offered his hand and I just stood up . . . letting the towel fall away from me and walked with him naked to the sofa. I sat back as he said that he’d finally worked-up the courage to order some movies after our session in “your front room last summer”.

As he walked back towards the sofa with the remote controls, I stretched my legs out and told him he wasn’t sitting down next to me until he’d taken off his robe and “dared to bare”. He laughed and pulled it off and I curled back my legs so that he could sit down next to me.

We sipped at our wine and cuddled into one another as he explained the lengths he’d had to go to to hide them away from the rest of the family. He went quiet for awhile as we watched, but as I know how much J enjoys me commenting on things when we are watching them at home, I started making the sort of remarks I would as if I had been with J. And, as I do actually find them quite arousing, it wasn’t hard for me to start saying “lovely body”, or “do you like her boobies” or “god I could never take that!”. I started gently stroking him whilst we watched. Just barely touching him at first, just brushing my fingers across him, then a little more deliberately along the top of his willy. Then as I felt him growing harder, I slid my fingers around him completely. He shifted a little and turned to squeeze me and kiss me. I returned his kisses for a few moments, sliding my hand up and down on him now, before pushing him back and telling him “you watch the movie for a little while longer”.

I then dropped down onto the floor, kneeling in front of him, still stroking his erection and leaning forward to flick my tongue across the head of his cock. I had my back to the screen, but could hear the groans and moans from the movie, and hear his own gasps as I started sliding my mouth up and down on him. As I pumped slowly up and down with my mouth, I reached my hands out, pushing them up onto his chest and pushing him back upright against the back of the sofa. I was sucking up and down faster now, trying to match the rhythm of the noises I could hear coming from behind me. He was responding by meeting my mouth going down by thrusting himself upwards and I could hear him getting louder. I heard him calling out, so pulled my mouth away, grabbing him with one hand and muzzling my nose and lips into his balls as I heard him coming with a loud gasp and felt him spurting out as he thrust back and forth in short spasms. I felt him splashing onto my back and shoulders and several drops on my hair. He was now whispering his groans rather the loud gasps as he’d come. I was still holding his cock and kissed his balls, telling him “I love that”. He gasped louder and pulled me back up onto the sofa.

On the screen the same girl was still being engorged by the same two men . . . “I don’t know how they can keep going on for so long!” I said to S as he opened his eyes and re-focused on the TV. “I’m sure they edit it to make it look longer than it really is!”. We laughed and snuggled into one another, continuing to watch, separating occasionally to share gulps of wine from the same glass. As we emptied the first glass, I stretched out to place it down onto the table and reach across for what had been my glass, still, for the moment, nearly full. He slid his hands up over my nipples as I reached out and brought the glass back to us. They were already quite tingly, but feeling his hands sliding across them made me shudder even more. He slid his mouth down onto my right nipple as I twisted back to our previous position. “Wine?” I offered him a sip and then reading my mind he took a mouthful and then leant forward . . . as I’d shown him shortly after our first liaisons all those years ago . . . sucking my left nipple into his mouth and releasing a splash of the wine onto me. It’s a gasping, tingling, moment that always sends me, even when I know it’s coming, into loud groans and wanting “more, more”. We twist and slide together, with him moving over more onto the top of me. His mouth moving from glass to nipple, to glass to the other nipple, and then lifting up further to release another jet into my mouth. Our tongues swirl around each others, gulping the wine down between us. Dribbles running onto our chins. Then more gasps as he releases another mouthful onto my nipples again, splashing from one to the other.

The glass is quickly empty now and he takes it from me and sits up to place it onto the table and then slide down onto the floor. Now it’s my turn to be pushed back against the sofa, whilst he kneels between my legs and starts flicking his tongue around me. I’m oblivious to the TV screen now, as his tongue slides and probes. I pull his hands up to my nipples, telling him to “squeeze my tits, fucking squeeze them”. I’m pushing my hips forward off the edge of the sofa and swivelling up my legs over his shoulders, squealing at him as his tongue slides right around under me. He has slid his hands down to my hips now, so I’m squeezing my own breasts and gasping out “eat it”. I can feel him reaching round with his fingers, but I am almost at the point of coming, and push them away, blurting out something like “I don’t want. Just keep eating me.” He knows that I am close and so just holds me by each hip and keeps sucking and tonguing up and down and round and round. His tongue is going too far round and I have to reach down with both hands to spread my lips and help him with my clit. The explosion is so big that I have to squeeze my legs together and hold his head against me. Shuddering and shaking, and holding him until I stop. J tells me that when I do this to him, it is sometimes almost suffocating and he has to actually pry my legs apart to get loose. I suddenly realise I’m probably doing the same to S, so I let go and relax my grip a little. I still can’t open them wide though, and S is still kneeling on the floor, supporting me and stopping me from falling forward onto the floor. I eventually relax enough for him to lift and fold me back up onto the sofa, asking me if I’m alright. I nod and, apparently, hold the palm of my hand out as if to say “go away and leave me alone”. I didn’t realise that I’d motioned that way, but just recall rolling onto my tummy onto the sofa, stretching my legs out to the end, and turning my head into the cushions.

S had to wake me . . . an hour later apparently. I’d fallen asleep on him yet again!! I sat-up, he’d draped the towel over me, and had put his robe back on, and started apologising. He laughed and started kissing me, telling me that at least he knew I’d “had a good time”. It was almost midnight and he asked if I needed coffee, whilst he gathered my clothes for me. I asked for more wine instead, but agreed I did need to go home.

When he returned he’d dressed as well, to walk me home . . . but we sat together, back at the table, he’d wanted coffee, talking again about how quickly the year was going by (half-term already, it had seemed like the kids had only just gone back after Christmas!). We talked about when we could next get together again . . . “you used to see me every two weeks” he complained, even though he knew it had only been two weeks since our last hotel evening.

We continued our planning as we walked home. It was a much milder evening than it had been two weeks ago, but I joked that I had more clothes on now than when I’d returned home then. (I’d had to put my work suit of blouse, trousers and jacket back on, rather than the long overcoat I’d had on that night). We kissed quickly at my gate and I watched him walk back down the street until he turned at the corner to wave goodbye.

I opened the front door to hear the TV blasting from the front room . . . and found J and both the children still up watching a movie !!! J followed me into the hallway asking “you’re home early?” I whispered my reply “I’ve been watching movies too! I’m exhausted and going up to bed.” He nodded eagerly and said he’d just say his goodnights and be “right up too”!


Best wishes - Edith
http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithsdiary