I toss back the last of my beer, pull the buds from my ears, set the iPod on the table. I glance at Amy. She's reading her Kindle and has a nearly full glass of wine. Drew is asleep in the lounge chair. The twins are playing in a pile of dirt.
I push myself out of my chair, head onto the porch, crush the beer can, and drop it into the recycle bin.
Lisa is at the sink, elbow-deep in something green. The first thing that pops into my head is kohlrabi, but that's just because she's Chinese.
Another Pleasant Valley Sunday
Charcoal burning everywhere
Another Pleasant Valley Sunday
Here in status-symbol land
Lisa has the radio tuned to the oldies station.
She's wearing gray, cotton gym shorts and a pink T-shirt. I step up to her, slip my hands under the T, cup her tits. She leans back against me, cocks her head to one side. I kiss her neck. We stand like that for a minute or so, me nuzzling her neck, squeezing her tits. Now that the twins are weaned they're no longer sore, the tits, not the twins, but they still have a nice heft to them.
I take her by the hips, turn her. She grabs a towel, wipes her hands, and tosses it aside. We kiss. Lisa is cooperative, not enthusiastic, but cooperative.
I slide my hand down into her shorts, inside her panties. She's nicely damp and as I finger her she gets wetter. I'm not surprised that she was wet. She knew I'd come to her. Anticipation and all that.
I turn her back facing the sink, she reaches for the blinds, adjusts them so they're partly closed. We can see out but they can't see in. I pull down her shorts and panties. I add a bit of spit to my cock and push into her. She's surprisingly tight for a mother of twins, wet and warm. I thrust into her hard and fast and she makes little grunting noises as I do.
It won't last long, for a couple of reasons. One, our respective spouses are only a few feet away and could come into the house at any moment. And, two, that's the way she likes it. Time was when we had "dates" of a kind, we took our time. But now we take our moments as they come. I'm a bit rough with her. It turns her on to be "ravaged." To be irresistible to the point that I can't control myself. And she is pretty darn irresistible. One of the prettiest Chinese girls I've ever seen.
It started two years ago on the first birthday of the twins. There was a party. Lisa's sister and brother were there with their spouses and kids. The parents and in-laws, too. And Nana.
When the party wound down and everybody had left, Drew popped Nana into the car to drive her home. Amy walked out the back door, headed across the train tracks for the path down to the river. She's not a kid person (Neither am I, truth be told.) and four hours of pandemonium was a bit beyond her limit.
Lisa stood at the sink doing dishes. She had changed out of her dress into a long, black, soft cotton robe. I walked up behind her, put my hands on her hips, kissed her neck. Usually she would lean back a bit, turn her head for a chaste little kiss on the lips, but now she just stood. I could sense the tension.
"You okay, Lees?"
She nodded her head, then sniffed.
"Lees, what's the matter."
She shook her head, another sniffle. She turned to walk away, but I grabbed her arm, spun her around. There were two tracks of tears running down her cheeks. I pulled her to be.
She resisted at first, but then let me hold her. Then the dam burst. I let her cry for a bit.
She said something I didn't get.
"I'm a mother!"
I was about to say something snarky when the flash of intuition hit me. Her sister and sister-in-law, both pregnant yet again. Her mother and mother-in-law. And Nana. She had seen the future and she didn't like it... not one bit. But there was more.
"Yeah, you're a mother and Drew hasn't been particularly, er, attentive, has he?"
She didn't answer, but I knew it was true. Drew was a Boy Scout, an Eagle Scout no less and he lived his life by the Boy Scout manual. Now he lived by the Man's manual. On page 46 it says men like sports, so we usually watch sports together, even though neither of us care for it much. And on page 102 it says that the new father shall keep his filthy paws off of his wife. She just had a kid - in this case twins - for Christ sake!
And that's a shame because her mother-in-law, Drew's mother, is French and the French have a whole different idea of what happens after birth. No sooner does the kid pop out than mom is getting back into shape, not just physically, but sexually as well. In addition to hours on the tread mill, and hours exercising, she'd spent hours with various objects inside her, working the muscles back into shape.
And it had worked. Within a few months she was not only willing to have sex, she was well able to. Not only that, but she looked pretty fucking hot. But Drew, being the considerate type, kept his distance.
I raised her face and kissed her. Not a serious kiss, but not the chaste little things we usually share. I started babbling, telling her she was beautiful and sexy.
"No. Before the kids you were skinny, too skinny for my tastes. But that last ten pounds that you can't seem to get rid of looks good on you. I'd keep it if I were you."
"I don't seem to have much of a choice."
I kissed her again. She was cooperative, not enthusiastic, but cooperative. I kept kissing her, building the intensity. Although she didn't respond in kind she didn't say no, didn't push me away. In fact I felt the tension go out of her, felt her warm a bit.
I pulled a wine glass from the strainer, grabbed the bottle of white wine from the fridge, filled the glass. I took a sip then handed the glass to Lisa. I put my arm around her shoulder, kissed her hair, and led her to the family room.
We sat on the couch and talked. We've always had a special connection. The three of us, she, Drew, and I, used to commute to work together. Drew and I worked four-day weeks with different days off and on his day off Lisa sat up front and we just yacked and laughed all the way to work.
She was clearly nervous, guzzling the wine in big gulps. I played with her hair, kissed her cheek, turned her face now and then for a proper kiss.
When she finished her wine I took the glass and set it on the end table. We proceeded to do some serious necking, although, as before, it was mostly me doing it.
I pinched the toggle and pulled the zipper down. Lisa tensed, placed her hand on mine as if to stop me, but she didn't. I slipped my hand inside her robe, up under her T-shirt. I squeezed her tit. It was firm, full of milk. Lisa winced.
I sent my hand south. She had her legs pressed together, but she let me nudge them apart. I cupped her mound and rubbed her through her panties. Again she tensed, then after a few moments relaxed. I worked my hand past the waistband, slid my fingers between her pussy lips. She was surprisingly damp, wet even. I leaned over and pulled off her panties. Again, she hesitated, but then she raised her butt off the couch so I could tug them down. I caressed her more deeply
She started making these little mewing sounds, rocking her hips ever so slightly. After a minute her hand was once again on mine, once again I thought maybe we'd gone too far, but no, she pushed two of my fingers into her, pressed my palm to her clit, and squeezed. I followed her rhythm. She clutched me then, buried her face in my neck. The mewing turned into gasps, the gasps into grunts, spasms shook her body.
I held her, we kissed some more. She put her hand on my crotch, squeezed. I reached down to undo my pants.
The fucking garage door rattled open!
Lisa was off the couch like a shot, running down the hall. I grabbed the wine glass and, luckily, glanced back at the couch. There were Lisa's panties. I grabbed them and stuffed them into my pocket. Drew and I hit the kitchen at the same moment.
"That was quick."
"Nana forgot her sweater."
I splashed some more wine into the glass while Drew searched. A minute later he emerged from behind the couch with a pale blue bundle of knitting. He wagged it at me and headed out. I heard the garage door rumble shut and walked down the hall.
The bedroom door was shut. I tapped on it and let myself in. Lisa was sitting on the edge of the bed, robe zipped, staring at the floor. I handed her the glass.
"Nana forgot her sweater."
Lisa practically shot the wine down. I set the empty glass aside. Gently, I pushed her back down onto the bed, kissed her.
"Now where were we?"
She was tense again, but she let me unzip her robe, slip my hand between her legs. It took a couple of minutes, but the tension faded, her kisses warmed. I reached down, undid my pants, and pulled out my cock.
The back door slammed.
"Oh for the love of..."
I sprinted across the hall and into the bathroom. When I came out Amy was there waiting to get in.
"There were some guys fishing, drinking beer."
"So much for a little peace and quiet."
She walked past me and closed the door. I found Lisa back at the kitchen sink. I slipped my arms around her, hugged her, kissed her neck.
"Is this some kind of conspiracy?"
Lisa chuckled. I turned her around and kissed her.
"I'll come visit tomorrow, 10 a.m., okay?"
She hesitated, but then nodded. I gave her another quick kiss, reached into the fridge, cracked open a beer.
The next morning as I stepped onto the porch Lisa opened the door, but not all the way. Had she changed her mind? Had the opportunity been missed? But as I walked forward she backed up. I went in and closed the door.
We kissed, kissed some more. I led her to the couch, undressed her, undressed me, and we did it. Or, more accurately, I did it. But I've learned that that's just Lisa, she's just passive like that. She does have a knack for dirty talk, though, so when she begged me to come inside of her so she could feel me come I obliged. I was trying to take things slow, she hadn't even had an orgasm yet, but then the vocalizations started, begging me to fuck her, begging me to come, and well...
I grabbed a towel. (With twin babies there are towels everywhere.) I wiped myself off, then pushed the towel between her legs. I rolled off of her and she slipped to the floor. She took my cock into her mouth.
Now there's that saying that there's no such things as a bad blowjob. Whoever said that never met Lisa. She basically sucked on the head of my cock while tugging on the shaft. She had it in a death grip, yanking on it, desperately. Still, it had an effect. I didn't go soft and soon was hard again, so there's that.
Round two took longer. Lisa had several orgasm, some quite noisy. At some point I sensed she was winding down, so I finished, too.
We sat on the couch drinking wine.
"I... I thought you had changed your mind. You were late. Or did you say 10:30 and I just missed it."
"No. I said 10:00, but there was a train, a long freakin' train. I was going to call, but you seemed hesitant yesterday and I thought you might change your mind and calling would be an easier way to back out if you wanted to."
We had "the talk." The one about where it might or might not go. The rules. The chief one being that regardless of where it went, it would never come between us and our respective spouses. Besides, while we had a special relationship, it wasn't love.
I visited her the following Monday, and the next. We did the quickie thing, then the long thing. That third time she was on the floor with my cock in her mouth.
"Lees, er, can I tell you something?"
"Remember that first time and you showed me how you like to be caressed?"
I gave her a lesson in fellatio. During my fourth visit she wasn't half bad.
"I've been practicing... and looking at the internet."
She paused, hesitant.
"I've never tasted cum. Well, a bit, you know, but it mostly tastes like me."
So she stayed between my knees, kept my cock in her mouth, gave me a fairly good blowjob, and swallowed like a pro, although she did grimace a bit.
"I hear it's an acquired taste."
"That's what Amy said. Did you like it?"
"Good, uh, because next week's my period. You can come over and, uh, we could just do that if you want."
I did and she did, but not without a little bit of trepidation. When I'd left that third time I noticed Fred was in his yard. Seems he was always in his yard. I said hello. Then it hit me. My car had been in the driveway three Mondays in a row. Oops.
I started parking at the convenience store at the corner and walking over. The way the houses were set you couldn't see their front porch from Fred's place and there was nothing across the street but a power line right of way.
This went on for a couple of months, but then things started to change. It was just a feeling, but these dates began to seem like an obligation. We each begged off a couple of times. So that's when I started jumping her bones at odd times. Odd moments. It got to be a game to see how fast we could do it. Like when Drew and I were watching the game in the garage and I'd duck into the house for more beer and take a side trip into Lisa's pussy. But there were other times.
One Saturday morning Drew called.
"Yeah, but what do you need?"
"I promised my sister I'd help her paint her place and I can't get the beast to run."
"I'll be right over."
Amy was on the couch with a book and cup of coffee.
"That was Drew. The beast won't start."
Amy just rolled her eyes.
Drew is a DIY type and he's pretty good around the house, although he is a bit anal and his little projects take forever. He likes to work on his car, a classic '68 Plymouth. He shouldn't.
I found him leaning on the fender, manual open in his hands, a plastic bag with empty boxes, spark plugs, distributor cap sat on the ground. All looked new and they damn near were because he had just replaced them a month ago. Under the hood the timing light was hooked up. I took the manual from his hands. Sure enough, it was opened to the troubleshooting section. The whole cause and effect thing eludes him for some reason. If he did something and now the car wouldn't run, well, duh!
He did and it ran like crap. I flipped over to the wiring diagram, checked the plug wires, swapped two, disconnected the timing light.
It started, but ran a bit rough. I picked a screwdriver out of the tool box, loosened the distributor, rotated it. The revs went up, then fell off. I did this a couple of times looking for that sweet spot, backed it off a hair, screwed it down. He shut it off and we gathered up the tools and whatnot.
"Since you've disturbed my Saturday you get the lecture. First, factory specs only work at the factory. As the car ages you have to play it by ear. Speaking of ear, if it pings, just back it off a bit more."
"And for the love of God, Drew, what part of one spark plug wire at a time don't you get."
He chuckled, slid behind the seat, waved, and backed out of the drive. I headed up onto the porch, Lisa had the back door open.
My hands aren't all that dirty, but I hold them up like a surgeon. I give her a quick kiss.
"Yep. Can't you break something inside the house? Ask for new book shelves or something? And that bathroom really needs to be redone."
"You were the one who talked him into that car. It was supposed to be some kind of a buddy project.
Lisa drizzles cooking oil on my hands. Best thing to cut grease and grime. She then squirts on some dishwashing liquid, which takes the oil and dirt away. Rinse, repeat, done. She hands me a towel.
"Where are the twins?"
"My niece's birthday. My sister is taking them all to the zoo."
"Be still my quaking heart."
I take her in my arms, run my hands across her back. She's wearing underwear. This is odd. When we have planned time together she's always naked under her robe. And even though this wasn't planned, with Drew and the kids being gone, well, you just knew where this would go. But I hold her and stroke her and kiss her. There's no rush. She's warmer now, still mostly passive, but more responsive. She holds me, presses herself to me, all warm under her soft robe. But I also sense a certain nervousness. I can't place it because, while under the best of circumstances we might enjoy an hour, maybe two, today we have all day. I shrug it off.
Lisa pulls down two wine glasses and even though it not even 10:00, hell, well you know how that goes.
We sit on the couch. I grab the remote, thumb over to DVD, and the virtual fireplace springs to life.
Flames flicker, time passes, an idea pops into my head.
"Go fetch the bag."
"Yes. The bag."
It takes a second for the light to dawn. Lisa heads down the hall.
"Oh, and lose the robe."
When she returns I damn near spit out my wine. She has the bag, she's lost the robe, and what was underneath? Red satin, half-cup bra that supports her brown-nipple tits like an offering. Red satin garter belt and red stockings. A sheer red thong that hides nothing. And red pumps. She kneels.
I've been dominating her lately. No bondage, no time for that, really, and then there's the rope marks to deal with. She likes Drew to tie her up, but that, like the sex thing, seems to have gone bye-bye. But I do dominate her, order her to display herself, to play with herself. Sometimes I treat her rough, almost bordering on rape. She likes that. Likes being handled, being forced.
She does, places her hands behind her head.
"Turn back and open your legs."
She turns and opens her legs. Man! Passive momma Lisa it fucking hot! And she's flaunting it. And why Drew isn't all over her like white on rice is just beyond me, handbook be damned.
I let her stand like that for a bit while I sip my drink. Then I take the bag, unzip it, draw out the contents. Rope, sex toys, more rope, straps, a red ball gag, and low and behold, red fuzzy handcuffs. Can you say accessorize?
I pop the ball into her mouth. It's on the small side, but when I cinch the chin strap it's pretty effective. I pull her hands down and cuff her wrists in front, set the safety lock.
This is good. This is very good. Fuzzy handcuffs won't leave any telltale rope marks. Lovely.
"Do you have a favorite toy?"
Lisa nods and retrieves a small purple vibrator. I pull her down next to me on the couch.
She sets the speed, pulls her thong aside, and slides it between her pussy lips. She leans back against me and closes her eyes.
"I want you to come for me and I want you to keep coming until I tell you to stop. Understand?"
After a half dozen grunting, convulsing orgasms I tell her to stop and stand.
I draw her down so that she straddles me. I push my way into her. Even after all this time I'm always amazed at how snug and wet she is.
She does, bouncing up and down, grinding her hips. She drapes her arms around my head, rubs her tits against me. She has a few more orgasms, which is the plan. I have a hard time coming when I'm on the bottom. When I'm on top, just the opposite problem. Doggy-style seems to work best. But I let Lisa bounce on my cock until she's slick with sweat, chest heaving.
"Come on. Again."
Finally, I roll her off and down onto the couch. I climb between her legs. She's so sensitized now that she can't help but come a couple of more times before I do. She lays panting around the gag, cuffed wrists above her head, skin pink and damp. I jam the towel between her legs, but there'll be no second act today.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ...
Lisa is making little grunting noises as I thrust into her, bent over the sink.
Drew's head is back, mouth open, Amy has set her Kindle aside and has her head back, too. The kids are still playing in the dirt. I help Lisa gather the burgers and dogs, the buns, the chips, dip, and slaw. In a bit Drew will crank up the grill, the kids will settle in front of the TV, Amy and Lisa will huddle under the beach umbrella with drinks and yack, Drew and I will be in the garage watching the 4:00 game.
Just another Pleasant Valley Sunday.
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