'I think we are here', my husband said, trying to catch his breath. The long flight of stairs to the top were indeed daunting, but now we stood in front of a shabby looking door, at journeys end, for this part at least.
We had travelled here with the sole purpose of purchasing 'Ultimate Saddle Thrusting Sex Machine', the owner claiming it was as new, never used, and having vied it on-line, called him, and agreed a price of £85.00, less than halve.
I told my husband I thought he sounded oldish, but he just laughed and said wishful thinking, so when I rang the doorbell and he opened it, both of us thought we had the wrong door.
He was old, very old and as I fumbled for the right words to explain who we were, he just said, 'It's all right dear, I know who you are, come in', and we did.
The house was dark and damp, it smelt old, cluttered and a tad on the dirty side.
He was alone, widowed for some thirty years he said, and lived a life of frugality and sexual obsession.
'You cant be frugal if you purchase a machine like that, then give it away', I challenged, completely unabashed to talk about something to do with me sexually pleasuring myself with.
The way he looked at me I sensed the lust he felt, a woman half his age, taller and statuesque, beautiful and sexy, here in his living room, taking delivery of a dildo pushing fuck machine, he must be in heaven, I thought, so why hold back, give him food for thought, and so I did.
'Would you like a drink', he asked wistfully, we had explained we would pick it up and leave ASAP, but I warmed to him as his need shone through, some might say 'Feeling sorry for him', but for me it was his need for me and the exquisite pleasure my presence might afford him, so I said yes, 'Why not', and I unbuttoned my coat and took it off, revealing my short black number, complete with netted stockings and belt.
I threw my coat over the back of the seat and sat down, letting my short skirt ride high to reveal my stocking tops and garters, hooked into the high-cut gusset material, showing how they were kept up, both revealing and intimidating.
I smiled warmly at his as his eyes remained transfixed on my leg tops, I suddenly felt powerful, knowing the effect I was having on him, 'You dont mind do you', I teased, adding, 'I do tend to show too much sometimes', at which we both laughed.
I leaned back into the chair, the nauseating dampness and smell, suddenly heightening my senses, dirty sex was a kink I grew up with, a turn-on, ever since as a girl I read a story about a girl being f***ed onto a dirty ground and turned onto her face and ****d, it had all the elements that appealed to my libido, dirt, ****, and anal sex.
He walked back towards me and I wistfully eyed his crotch, to see if he was responding to my debauchery, he was not, be he saw I was looking, and I smiled and said sorry, as he handed me a large whiskey.
'Are you a model', he asked me genuinely, to which I lied and said yes, and as he looked across at my silent husband, I added, 'He's my manager, and he does as he's told'.
My poor husband knew what I was doing, he enjoyed my banter with other men, especially if sex was the subject, and he was the fly on the wall, so he just nodded and kept silent.
'What do you model', he asked me, to which I replied, 'Everything and nothing', his face had a puzzled look, 'Everything as in sexy underwear, and nothing, as in nude modelling'.
His puzzled look melted away as he understood my brazenness, and he looked even more hopeful as I downed the glass in one gulp, like a seasoned Scotsman.
'Where are you from', he asked as I handed him my empty glass for a refill, 'I am Swedish, you know, blond all over', suddenly I was getting bored and the mood was waning, I wanted to move up a notch so as he turned to hand me another glass, I opened my legs and let him see what I meant.
You could hear a pin drop, he froze as did my husband, 'Shall we go try the machine', I challenged, and as I got to my feet my dress remained in situ, my crotch fully exposed, and I made no effort to pull it down, I was horny and wanted to fuck, so I took the glass from him and we both walked into the bedroom, where the machine was, and I closed the door, leaving my husband standing outside.
To Be Continued, but only if I get 30 requests to do so
Posted by MarieL 3 years ago Views: