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06 Aralık 2023, 14:39
Craig had been working out in the yard, just having finished mowing the grass as he now began paying attention to a few stubborn weeds coming up in his flower garden. He knelt, his trowel already loosening the dirt beneath such one as he glanced up. Directly across from him stood a six-foot wooden fence separating his yard from the neighbors. As he glanced, he caught sudden movement through a fairly large knothole in the wood. Like a naughty little boy, he leaned in closer towards it.
Across the yard into which he was peering, he saw her. He remembered his wife Sandy mentioning her name, "Becky," he mused to himself. They had met out near the mailboxes where Sandy had learned just a few days after her moving in that she was recently divorced. Becky had been there less than a full week, and as yet Craig hadn't even seen her as yet, let alone met her. Until now. His unobserved introduction was one he'd not expected nor anticipated either. He continued to kneel, grinning like that same naughty little boy.
Hearing the back door open, he turned his head watching his wife emerge carrying a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade. He smiled. She faltered in her step just slightly spotting him, shaking her head almost unnoticeably from side to side continuing her approach.
Craig adored his wife. He and Sandy hadn't been married all that long either, each coming from bad marriages into this one. As such, there wasn't anything they couldn't or wouldn't share with one another. Something they had vowed, promised, and committed to one another in always being honest with regards to their feelings, not matter what they might be. Because of that, Sandy knew every one of Craig's deepest darkest desires and secrets. As he knew hers.
At just barely five feet, Craig affectionately called her his little "Tasmanian Devil". He'd never known a woman who could become as wild in bed as she could once she was aroused. To see her, you'd never know it or believe it even if you did. Sandy wore her reddish-brown hair in a feathery short, easy to care for manner. She had large breasts, which tended to be accentuated because of her height, often given appreciative stares from men as well as women. Though some of which weren't always welcome if someone became too obvious about it, or worse, actually made a suggestive comment, especially if she didn't know them.
"Naughty boy!" Sandy whispered actually crouching as she approached the fence. "Just what are you looking at anyway?" she asked with an "I know what you're doing" look on her face.
"Just meeting our neighbor," he whispered back in low tones only loud enough for Sandy to hear. "And boy am I!"
She handed him his lemonade, taking his place before the hole in the fence glancing in briefly. "Wow!" Sandy exclaimed almost a little too loudly, quickly pulling away however in the event she might have been heard, even at this distance. She peeked briefly once again a moment or two later, then stepped away. "She is pretty isn't she?"
Sandy wasn't jealous. Craig knew her better than that, and she him. But he could hear the envy in her tone of voice when she spoke. Becky really did have "long assed legs" as Craig referred to them just moments before giving up his spot for his wife's quick little 'look-see'. Sandy had always wished that she had long legs, a natural desire by anyone who wasn't. Just like some women wished to be larger breasted, something Sandy found to be more of a handicap than a blessing.
Becky had come out to take in some sun. She'd obviously been busy the better part of the week unpacking, getting things settled in. Now, in the supposed seclusion of her own backyard, she had thrown down a beach towel on one of her patio lounge chairs. Wearing nothing but a pair of dark sunglasses, she lay on her back, freshly oiled, gleaming against the brilliant sunlight now caressing her nude form.
Even laying down as she was, it was evident she was tall for a woman, perhaps even a model for she certainly looked it, though neither Sandy nor Craig knew or had any idea what she actually did for a living. Her breasts were certainly smaller than Sandy's, but beautifully proportioned with dollar-sized, pink tipped nipples that even at this distance, could be seen standing firm and erect off her chest.
"Fuck me," Sandy spoke still standing off to one side. "Right here...right now!"
Craig was grinning. Watching his wife begin turning into the sometimes wild little Tasmanian 'she-devil' that she was, he leered towards her lustfully as she stood, already peeling away the sleeveless blouse she was wearing. "Keep your shirt on," she warned him. "Cause you're taking bottom, and I know how bad you hate the itchy's!"
Craig hurriedly unfastened his belt, stepping out of his Levi shorts, tossing them off to one side where they were soon joined by both Sandy's top, as well as her own pair of shorts, along with her panties. Though his bare ass now melted into the grass, even if he got a case of the "itchy's" as Sandy'd called them, he wasn't about to complain. He was still grinning as she stepped over him, lowering, and then stole his breath away.
She escort bursa (https://sokkan.org) was wet. Sopping was perhaps a better word for it. That mere thought alone never failing to make him hungry, "cock-hungry" for her he'd called it. Sandy's pussy was always so deliciously warm, slick and wet whenever he came to her. Just as it was now. Just as his prick acknowledged, sending back the sensory information to his brain as the feel of her engulfing him so easily, so smoothly until he felt the lips of her pussy actually kissing at the now tight sack of his balls.
"Hold still," she purred milking him. He loved it when she contracted her muscles around him, felt her cunt literally stroking his prick with tiny little contractions that slithered up and down his shaft as though her own lips were busily sucking him instead. "Play with my tits, pinch my nipples," she added, her head half-tossed back as she leaned that way, his hands already coming up to fill his palms with.
Sandy could get as deliciously wicked as he himself was when she became aroused, if not more so. Though most of their friends wouldn't know it, believe it because of her almost Jekell
Across the yard into which he was peering, he saw her. He remembered his wife Sandy mentioning her name, "Becky," he mused to himself. They had met out near the mailboxes where Sandy had learned just a few days after her moving in that she was recently divorced. Becky had been there less than a full week, and as yet Craig hadn't even seen her as yet, let alone met her. Until now. His unobserved introduction was one he'd not expected nor anticipated either. He continued to kneel, grinning like that same naughty little boy.
Hearing the back door open, he turned his head watching his wife emerge carrying a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade. He smiled. She faltered in her step just slightly spotting him, shaking her head almost unnoticeably from side to side continuing her approach.
Craig adored his wife. He and Sandy hadn't been married all that long either, each coming from bad marriages into this one. As such, there wasn't anything they couldn't or wouldn't share with one another. Something they had vowed, promised, and committed to one another in always being honest with regards to their feelings, not matter what they might be. Because of that, Sandy knew every one of Craig's deepest darkest desires and secrets. As he knew hers.
At just barely five feet, Craig affectionately called her his little "Tasmanian Devil". He'd never known a woman who could become as wild in bed as she could once she was aroused. To see her, you'd never know it or believe it even if you did. Sandy wore her reddish-brown hair in a feathery short, easy to care for manner. She had large breasts, which tended to be accentuated because of her height, often given appreciative stares from men as well as women. Though some of which weren't always welcome if someone became too obvious about it, or worse, actually made a suggestive comment, especially if she didn't know them.
"Naughty boy!" Sandy whispered actually crouching as she approached the fence. "Just what are you looking at anyway?" she asked with an "I know what you're doing" look on her face.
"Just meeting our neighbor," he whispered back in low tones only loud enough for Sandy to hear. "And boy am I!"
She handed him his lemonade, taking his place before the hole in the fence glancing in briefly. "Wow!" Sandy exclaimed almost a little too loudly, quickly pulling away however in the event she might have been heard, even at this distance. She peeked briefly once again a moment or two later, then stepped away. "She is pretty isn't she?"
Sandy wasn't jealous. Craig knew her better than that, and she him. But he could hear the envy in her tone of voice when she spoke. Becky really did have "long assed legs" as Craig referred to them just moments before giving up his spot for his wife's quick little 'look-see'. Sandy had always wished that she had long legs, a natural desire by anyone who wasn't. Just like some women wished to be larger breasted, something Sandy found to be more of a handicap than a blessing.
Becky had come out to take in some sun. She'd obviously been busy the better part of the week unpacking, getting things settled in. Now, in the supposed seclusion of her own backyard, she had thrown down a beach towel on one of her patio lounge chairs. Wearing nothing but a pair of dark sunglasses, she lay on her back, freshly oiled, gleaming against the brilliant sunlight now caressing her nude form.
Even laying down as she was, it was evident she was tall for a woman, perhaps even a model for she certainly looked it, though neither Sandy nor Craig knew or had any idea what she actually did for a living. Her breasts were certainly smaller than Sandy's, but beautifully proportioned with dollar-sized, pink tipped nipples that even at this distance, could be seen standing firm and erect off her chest.
"Fuck me," Sandy spoke still standing off to one side. "Right here...right now!"
Craig was grinning. Watching his wife begin turning into the sometimes wild little Tasmanian 'she-devil' that she was, he leered towards her lustfully as she stood, already peeling away the sleeveless blouse she was wearing. "Keep your shirt on," she warned him. "Cause you're taking bottom, and I know how bad you hate the itchy's!"
Craig hurriedly unfastened his belt, stepping out of his Levi shorts, tossing them off to one side where they were soon joined by both Sandy's top, as well as her own pair of shorts, along with her panties. Though his bare ass now melted into the grass, even if he got a case of the "itchy's" as Sandy'd called them, he wasn't about to complain. He was still grinning as she stepped over him, lowering, and then stole his breath away.
She escort bursa (https://sokkan.org) was wet. Sopping was perhaps a better word for it. That mere thought alone never failing to make him hungry, "cock-hungry" for her he'd called it. Sandy's pussy was always so deliciously warm, slick and wet whenever he came to her. Just as it was now. Just as his prick acknowledged, sending back the sensory information to his brain as the feel of her engulfing him so easily, so smoothly until he felt the lips of her pussy actually kissing at the now tight sack of his balls.
"Hold still," she purred milking him. He loved it when she contracted her muscles around him, felt her cunt literally stroking his prick with tiny little contractions that slithered up and down his shaft as though her own lips were busily sucking him instead. "Play with my tits, pinch my nipples," she added, her head half-tossed back as she leaned that way, his hands already coming up to fill his palms with.
Sandy could get as deliciously wicked as he himself was when she became aroused, if not more so. Though most of their friends wouldn't know it, believe it because of her almost Jekell