The night her mother watched us

There was a time in my mid-late 30s, when I had a girlfriend — a few years younger than I - who was simply gorgeous. Pretty face, body to die for, smart and so, so sexy. Let’s call her, K. Despite the age difference, her mother — lets call her, D — approved of our relationship. Nor did D mind whenever I stayed overnight. It must be said, too, that D, who was probably older than me by the about same amount I was older than K, was also a stunning, sexy woman.

D would occasionally throw a cheeky remark into our conversations; which I never thought much of at the time. Both K and D seemed to be fond of lounging around of an evening in matching silk gowns and, more than a couple of times, I’d be scrabbling for traction in my brain convincing myself that, “Nah . . . D didn’t just deliberately flash me there, did she. Nice lingerie though. Stunning figure! Nah . . . Surely not.” Until . . .

One night, K whispered to me that we needed to go to bed early, as there was something she wanted to try out. Before long, we were both doing the fake yawn and, ‘Gee, I’m tired’ routine before shuffling off. In the bedroom, we hugged, kissed and felt her firm breasts press into my chest as my hands moved against the silk gown; feeling her back and cupping her tight arse in my hands. My cock was soon betraying my thoughts as we pressed ourselves against each other.

K gently pushed me away, slowly removed my shirt and shorts and, as she untied the sash of her robe and slipped it off, guided me backwards onto the bed. “I think you’re going to enjoy this” she said. “Oh yeah? And what’s, ‘this’?” She told me her plan was to give me the longest, slowest, oiled up, on-the-edge handjob I would ever experience. Who was I to argue?

I lay on the bad and K sat on my thighs; her back to the door. The room lit by two candles. K took a handful of oil and started, ever so slowly, as she’d promised, gently stroking my rock-hard cock. Whenever I’d tense up, she’d whisper to me to relax. I reached for her breasts. She gently brushed my hands aside, “I want you to just lie there and enjoy this”. And enjoy it, I was. K proved so damn good at sensing when I was close to cumming and backing off her strokes just enough to hold me there for a bit. It was almost painful. It was exquisite. The wetness of her pussy and her stroking her clit now and again told me she was enjoying it as well.

I don’t know how long it was before I noticed that the bedroom door was open a little. To be honest, I was on the ‘couldn’t care less’ cloud. I did notice, though, when it opened a little further. And, I couldn’t help but notice when I caught a glimpse of white, of satin, in the candleglow that was escaping the open door. While I was seriously immersed in the magic K was making, I was becoming more aware of Ds presence over Ks shoulder.

The door opened a little more, maybe 60 cms now, and I glanced over to see D let her robe slip and let her hands and fingers move to her shaven slit. I was struggling now. Struggling to resist the peak K had taken me to and struggling with the extra arousal from watching D stroke her clit and put her fingers inside her glistening pussy. Despite Ks efforts to hold me there, it was no use. She’d balanced me there for an hour, but the extra 15 minutes of D watching threw me roughly over the top. I came. I swear the ceiling of that room is still stained. Bolt after bolt of hot cum shot out of me; into the air, over Ks breasts and her hands and onto my stomach and chest. I was spent. K lay down on my completely relaxed body. Just before I passed into sleep, I saw D smile, pick up her robe and head down the hallway after quietly pulling the door closed.

It was around 2:00 am that I roused just enough to need some water. K was snuggled next to me, her smooth skin perfect to the touch. She was sound asleep. I stumbled up, went to the door and padded in a weaving path, naked, down the hall and to the kitchen. There was enough streetlight outside shining in to show me the way. I filled a glass off the sink with water and drank it. I refilled it and stood there, quietly, sipping some more. I felt my cock harden a little as I reminisced of what had happened just a few hours earlier. “Wow . . . That was something”.

I placed the glass back on the sink and turned towards the hall. As I moved towards it, a figure came towards me. I thought it was K. As the figure moved into the kitchen, though, my heart hit its redline.

It was D.

She put a finger to her lips with one hand and, moving closer, placed the palm of her other hand gently on my chest. She lowered the hand from her lips, placed it on my shoulder and rank her fingertips down my arm, across my belly, and onto my stiffening cock. With her other hand, she placed my hand onto her breast. I soon had her magnificent breasts cupped in my hands. She pulled me close; never letting her hand leave my cock as she gently stroked it. I ran one hand down her back, the other down to her hot, very wet pussy.

She took a half step back and, again, putting a finger to her lips, slowly kneeled before me. She kissed and licked the head of my again rock hard cock, before slowly taking it into her mouth: shallow at first, then slow and every deeper with each stroke, until she took it all down her throat.

Satisfied that I was rock hard, and no doubt tasting the precum I felt oozing with each throb of my cock, D rose to her feet, smiled at me, turned and bent over to place her hands on the kitchen bench. “Fuck me” she whispered, as she gracefully shuffled her feet apart.

I entered her gently. A little at first; just the head of my cock as I reached around her to gently brush her nipples with my finger tips. Small, slow, short strokes. My cock just inside her, then out just enough so she could feel me at her lips. Ever slightly deeper slow strokes before I could take it no more. I had to be deep inside her. Slowly, I pushed my cock all the way into her. The withdrawal she might have been anticipating never came. Pushing deep and firmly inside her now, she gasped; arching her back and pushing against me.

I slowly stroked, full length, in and out of her. She was moaning quietly now, writhing, unable to stay still and meeting my strokes with her own. It felt so good. Too good. I was battling to hold back and so was she. I lay against forward against her back and whispered, “Oh God, D, You’re amazing! I’m going to cum!” Her breath was quick now, her face showing her pleasure. “Cum in me. Cum now”.

I blew my second massive load for the evening deep inside D. As the first bolt shot forth, I felt her start to quiver, then shudder; her pussy pulsing, clamping hard on my cock. Both of us could barely stand.

After a moment I straightened. D stood up, turned and went to her knees again. “Can’t have you going back to bed without a clean” she whispered. She stood up, we held each other like true lovers and kissed, passionately. We stepped out of our embrace and stepped back, still holding hands. She started to turn, before leaning back in and whispering in my ear, “I know my girl had good taste”. Then she slowly and quietly returned down the hall, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder. Another glass of water, stunned by what had just happened, and I returned to bed with K.

That was not the only time that D and I had sex. She had an uncanny knack of orchestrating situations where we’d find ourselves alone together. It was weird, wrong and confusing all rolled into one.
It was also amazing.