Mrs Wilson Calls
It had been a hard day. Working in an office can never be regarded as physically strenuous but deadlines often strain your mental reserves. However, neither of these was responsible today. Today it was Clare, my new secretary. Nineteen years old and with a dress sense that not so much attracts attention but grabs you by the lapels and slaps you round the face a few times. A 44DD chest and 36” hips with long chestnut hair hanging to her slim waist. Legs that started at the floor and climbed somewhere beyond the clouds. Her skirts were the required plain black but her idea of a hemline was about an inch below her buttocks. And on hot days….well, she did have a thing, I think but when she bent to file something I couldn’t see it. It begged the question, Shave or Wax?
If all this wasn’t bad enough, I’d noticed she was gone from her desk for a while and was a bit pissed as I needed the files from store I’d sent her to find. I went to the store room and she was there with our trainee accountant Kevin. If he was looking for files I knew he wouldn’t find them where he had his head, the dirty little bastard. Sorry, I meant the LUCKY dirty little bastard. They didn’t hear me as she was gently telling him in some very graphic language, exactly what she was going to do to him later that night. I’d like to say I used the old News of the World phrase of ‘made a polite excuse and left’. I didn’t. I watched the horny pair until she’d cum over his face before I left telling myself that Sheila was going to get a bl**dy good seeing to when I got home and she would be very excited by my recounting this tale for her.
I opened the door quietly and in the hallway, stripped off. She loved it when I did this and a quick fuck over the sofa or on the table led to an evening of dedicated lust.
I crept to the lounge door and called out loudly.
“Get those knickers off you fucking slut cos I’m going to pound that tight fucking cunt til you scream.”
I burst through the door and stood, arms wide, manhood proudly jutting out in front of me.
She looked up, a wry smile on her face.
“Good afternoon, Mr Davies,”
A grey-haired lady sat primly in the armchair and, standing in the kitchen doorway carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, my wife, her mouth wide open in horror.
“Oh Fuck!” I said.
“Quite,” the lady said and her gaze rested on my diminishing erection.
“I am so, so sorry,” I stammered covering myself with my hands. “I didn’t know…”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” the lady said. “It’s not often at my age I get to see one of those in full fighting condition. Sheila, my dear, I fear your - how did you put it - tight cunt - is going to be busy tonight. I expect you’ll be grinning like a Cheshire Cat all day tomorrow.”
“Mrs Wilson I am so sorry for my husband,” Sheila began but the old lady hushed her.
“Please, my dear. There’s no need to apologise. I’m actually enjoying the view.”
“John! Go and get dressed - NOW!” Sheila demanded.
“Oh, does he have to? Mrs Wilson said, still grinning. “I don’t see many and it is your house after all. You should be free to do what you like in it. And I’m not worried.”
Sheila looked at me and I could see a glint of devilment in her eyes. She worked mornings in a charity shop which Mrs Wilson ran and had often said what a nice lady she was.
“No, Mrs Wilson. He doesn’t have to. In fact he can be our waiter as punishment. John! Take this tray and serve tea. Mrs Wilson and I have things to discuss.”
I took the tray and my cock, which thanks to the shock, had been diminishing, began to raise it’s head again at the weirdness of the situation. Sheila took a seat on the sofa as I took the tray to Mrs Wilson. I lowered it for her to remove the cup of tea and I made sure it was down below my genitalia so she had a good look. She was masked from Sheila by my body and she looked up into my eyes and licked her lips. I took the tray to my wife and she grinned. I guessed she knew what had happened.
“My dear, you are so lucky,” the old lady was saying. “He so much more - er - gifted - than my Arthur is.”
“He’s more - gifted - than any of the men I knew. That’s why I married him.”
Sheila wasn’t a virgin when we met. She was s*******n and had lost that many years earlier. She was a sweet and charming girl and looked as though butter wouldn’t melt. That’s why she was never called the school bike but she’d been ridden a good few times by a good few people when we met and I suspect she’s been on a good few crossbars since we’ve been married.
“Do you and - what was his name - Arthur? Do you still…..”
“Fuck?” Mrs Wilson completed the hanging sentence. “No, alas. Poor Arthur can’t get it up nowadays. Not that he was very good when he did. If I didn’t have fingers I would never heave been satisfied.”
They laughed and the old dear finished her tea and placed the cup back on the tray giving my tackle a good look as she did so.
“Anyway, Dear, I had better be going so you can take advantage of this rather fine specimen. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
She rose as did Sheila who spoke.
“You don’t have to rush off do you?”
“I rather think your husband wants to……”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Sheila said. “If you’d like to stay and watch. I’m sure you’d be - er - thrilled?”
“Mmmm. A double bonus,” Mrs Wilson said. “A fit young man and a very trim young lady and my own private porn show. I never expected such a good day.”
She sat and watched and Sheila looked ot me. I grinned and moved to her.
Turning her to Face Mrs Wilson, I stood behind her and reached around. Slowly I unbuttoned the white blouse she was wearing and eased it off her shoulders. A vary thin, lacy bra was all that held Sheila’s small but beautifully formed 34A’s. The waistband of her flared blue skirt was easy and the garment slid over her hips. As she always did, she was wearing a white thong with her lacy garter-belt and tan stockings. Mrs Wilson’s eyes were drinking in the scene as I unfastened the suspenders and removed the belt. The thong was a tie sort and I was undecided which to unfasten first. My hands hovered between the front-fastening bra and the side ties of the thong.
“Her tits,” Mrs Wilson said. “Let me see her tits.”
“It looks like you’ve got an admirer,” I said softly in Sheila’s ear.
“Oh I’ve had many thoughts about your wife naked,” the old lady said. “Wondering. Now we shall see.”
I released the catch between her breasts and pulled the bra off. Sheils’s nipples were erect. She was enjoying this.
Next the side ties on her thong. A quick yank and it was gone and her well waxed pussy was there for this lustful old lady. My cock was pushing between the cheeks of my wife’s bum.
Mrs Wilson stood and came over. Without a word, she bent her head and engulfed the nipple of my wife’s breast. Sheila moaned and I felt her back arch. She was enjoying this woman sucking her tit.
Finally the older woman straightened up and looked her in the eyes.
“I always find women give better oral sex to women than men. We know where the tongue has most effect.”
Sheila simply nodded.
“Thank you, my dear,” the lady said. “Now I am going to go and let your husband have you.”
“NO!” Sheila said sharply. Then softer. “No, you are not going anywhere. We have unfinished business Mrs Margaret Wilson.”
Sheila pushed me away and went to the older woman who, un-resisting, allowed herself to be stripped naked. I watched fascinated as the clothes came away and revealed an older body but still in pretty good shape. Her tits were much bigger than Sheila’s. Her legs were shorter but shapely and she had more of a belly but not a fat one. Between her legs was a sparse triangle of hair which revealed puffy pussy lips.
Sheila slid her hand between the other woman’s thighs and began rubbing. Margaret Wilson moaned.
“Your cunt’s dripping,” Sheila said. “I need to feast on that.”
She guided the older lady to the sofa and sat her down. Kneeling between the spread legs, she bent her face and using her fingers to open the wet gash, she buried her face. Mrs Wilson sighed and moaned. I moved over and knelt beside them and offered my cock to her mouth. She engulfed it and I must admit, her sucking was expert. Better, if truth be told, than Sheila’s. It seemed like only moments before she was cumming and holding my wife’s head firmly in place whilst trying to scream her orgasm past my cock in her mouth.
Sheila finally pulled back and glared at me.
“Fuck her!” she almost spat the words out in her lust. “Fuck the whore!”
“Yes Fuck me! Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow! Make my cunt sing with that thick prick of yours.”
We turned her onto the sofa and I mounted her. Fuck she was tight. But she was also leaking like a BP oil well. She felt good to be inside and I pumped at her while she called me every filthy name she could think of. Sheila straddled her and pushed her cunt to the old woman’s mouth.
“Eat! Bitch!” she said. “Eat cunt!”
It was too much for Margaret. She came hard and long and soon I was pumping my spunk up inside her.
“I’m Cumming!” I cried. “I’m fucking cumming in this old whore!”
Sheila threw her head back and screamed and Margaret was trying to cry out into Sheila’s cunt.
We sank back onto the sofa together, our bodies glistening with sweat from our exertions. Sheila and Margaret were laughing.
“It’s going to be interesting in the shop tomorrow, isn’t it,” Margaret said to my wife.
“The stock-room?” Sheila replied. Margaret nodded. “As long as the customers don’t find out.”
“I suppose that now we’re - er - friends,” Margaret said. “I should let you know that there are a couple of us who……”
“In the stock room?”
“Yes. We’ve spoken often of you, my dear. But we all thought you were - how shall I put it? Not available for our fun and games. Seems we’ll have to think again. Can you do afternoons too?”
“And maybe John will be able to come and play too.”
I nodded vigorously. An afternoon fun and games with the local WI girls would be fun.
“And you can meet my neice,” she was saying. “She comes along sometimes. You may know her. She works at the same firm as you. Claire. Nice girl but I think she should wear her skirts a little longer.”
Posted by samvimes 3 years ago Views: