Hall Pass
I love my wife, and have for the twenty years that we've been together. Our life is comfortable and predicable, which is exactly how I like it. At forty-two, Linda is still a very good-looking woman, at least I think so. She works out to keep her body trim, with a nice firm, round butt, that I love to grab when we're making love, and forty triple D tits that bounce spectacularly when she's riding me. I can still get her to wear a bikini when we go to the lake, which makes those tits look even more spectacular. While she protests that it shows too much, I think she secretly likes the attention she gets. And I know I enjoy trying to get them to bounce clear of the top, by bouncing the boat over the waves. If I'm lucky, and she's in the mood, she'll let them bounce out, and as long as there aren't other boats around, leave them free. When she's in this kind of a mood, we usually end up having sex, either in the boat, or, if the lake is too busy, when we get home.
There are other ways she displays her mood at home, such as shorter than normal skirts, tight shorts, bare midriff tops. You get the idea. She makes it well known when she's turned on, which, very surprisingly, has been happening twice, and sometimes three times, a week lately. I never refuse, interrupting whatever I'm doing to make sure she's pleasured, which of course, means I am as well.
I enjoy a predicable life, and Sunday afternoons are my down time, my time to relax and unwind. In the winter it's NFL football, and in the summer, like now, that predictability includes watching the Sunday afternoon NASCAR race. They were deep into the second stage of this week's race, and my preferred driver was contending for the lead, when Linda stepped into the living room. I noticed her, but didn't pay a lot of attention, as Larson tried to pass Boyer for the lead, the two shifting the lead back and forth around each corner. I vaguely heard my wife say something like "we need to talk," but it didn't quite register.
She stepped in front of the TV, wearing a thigh length T-shirt that was thin enough that I could see, not only the bumps of her nipples, but also the outline of her dark brown areola. I tried to look past her as the announcers said something to the effect, that Larson made the pass stick, taking over first place. "I want a divorce!" My wife said, standing with her arms crossed under her tits.
It took at least half a dozen seconds for her words to sink into my head. I jerked my head and looked at her face in surprise. "WHAT?"
"I said I want a divorce!" she repeated, with a scowl on her face.
"A divorce? What the hell?" I asked, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off to stare at her. "Where did that come from?"
The scowl disappeared to be replaced with a naughty little grin. "That got your attention, didn't it? I'd have thought me standing here, in this, would have gotten your attention."
"Sorry lover. I wasn't even paying attention." I apologized, realizing that the 'we need to talk' comment that finally filtered into my brain, was an indication of something important.
"I could tell." She said as she reached for the hem of the shirt. She pulled it up and off, tossing it aside. "Now that I have your attention, how about we get you as naked as I am?"
She never had to ask twice about sex. That was a hard, fast rule for me. If at all possible, if she wanted something, I did my best to give it to her, and that went double for sex. I lowered the foot rest of my recliner and stood up. It took her only about two minutes to get me naked and pushed back into my chair. She knelt down in front of me and pushed my knees apart, slipping between them and reaching for, my now hardening, dick. She looked at me, as she lowered her face to my dick, opening her mouth and closing it around my mushroom head. I groaned in pleasure, as she teased her tongue around it, wanting to encourage her to keep going. It had been quite a while since she had sex with me in my chair. I loved it, each of the few times she'd done it, but I also knew that this was one of her ways of getting me ready to talk about something she expected me to not be particularly in favor of.
The first time we had sex in my chair was when she wanted to get pregnant with our first. As a tool to convince me to do something, she found it so effective that she continued using over the years. The last time was when she wanted to let her mother live with us for a few months, while she went through a rough spot with her husband. I won't say her dad, since he wasn't, but just the same, it was a difficult few months which required more than one of these sessions to keep me happy.
She lifted her face from my, now rock-hard, cock and climbed up into the chair, her knees on either side of me, climbing over me until she could push her tits in my face. "Here lover." She whispered, cupping one of her big tits and holding it so she could press one of her fat, very hard nipples to my lips. I closed my lips around her nipple and sucked it eagerly, letting my hands slide up her body to cup each huge soft mound. "Ohhhhhhhhh Yessss!" she whispered, as she reached down to find my dick with one hand. "Suck my titties. Oh God, you know how much I love that. Suck 'em for me baby!"
I felt her rub my engorged head between her soft, protruding inner lips, spreading her moisture over my head, and using my head to spread her juices over her whole pussy. I enjoyed the tease, as I released one nipple to move to the other, sucking it into my mouth as eagerly as I had the first.
"Mmmmmmm. So good. You know exactly how to get me turned on, don't you?" She whispered, as she settled my head into the entrance to her depths. I felt her lower herself slightly, her vaginal entrance trying to spread over my fat head. The pressure built on me until she finally stretched enough to let her slide down my shaft. The saliva she had coated me with, allowed her to slide slowly down the full length of my dick, her firm ass cheeks resting on my thighs. "God! I love how you feel in me. Soooo big and fat."
I knew I wasn't exactly huge. Maybe average, or a tad more, based on the old playboy survey that showed the average guy was a disappointing five and a half inches. Disappointing, not for the guys, but apparently for the ladies they sent to measure them, who reported that six and a half to seven inches was the 'perfect' size. The fact that she was complementing my size, stroking my ego, alerted me that whatever she was buttering me up for, I wasn't going to like. It was a game we'd played enough times in our twenty years; that I knew enough, that she wouldn't tell me what it was until we'd both climaxed, and as long as that was the case, I might as well make the most of it.
I held her tits in my hands and sucked one nipple and then the other, as she began to lift and lower herself, bouncing her bare ass cheeks against my legs, with each drop. My cock grew fatter in her as she worked up and down, her velvety soft pussy caressing me in all the right ways. Her moans and gasps grew with her orgasm, each stroke seeming to push her just a little closer to that perfect moment. Her ass slapped rhythmically against me, my cock making a soft squish each time she pushed down on me. Yeah, she knew exactly how to get my attention, and she had it fully, as my own orgasm grew with hers. I let go of her nipples and tits, running my hands down to her firm ass, to squeeze each cheek.
"God honey! You look so fucking hot." I groaned as I watched her tits bouncing wildly in front of me, her moans growing louder as she inched toward climax. My own began to grow closer as well, the warm tingle spreading through my groin and then my whole body, demanding that I pump my cock up into her even as she thrust herself down my shaft over and over. I was doing my best to force my cock into her from my sitting position as she bounced on me, having to actually hold myself back, lest I come in her too soon. "Come for me honey. Let me feel you come around me!"
"Yes. Almost. Going to come for you. Oh yes. Oh, I love you so much! God! HERE I COME!" she squealed loudly, as she slammed herself down hard on me. I tried to lift my hips and pump my cock into her, which she felt. She started to try and bounce on me again, even in the midst of her own climax. The slightly erratic bouncing pushed me over the top in less than a dozen strokes, my body jerking hard under her. "FUCK YES!" she screamed, as she felt my body surge a gush of cum into her hot pussy. She bent herself to press her lips to mine, in an aggressive kiss, her body still in the throes of climax as we embraced.
She broke the kiss and rested her forehead on mine, the two of us panting for breath, as my cock continued to jerk and twitch inside her, pumping my cum deep into her still spasming depths. "Oh damn, that felt soooo good. I love having you fuck me," she whispered breathlessly.
"You know how much I love doing this with you." I panted.
"I'm glad." She answered, still resting her head on mine.
"Your mother isn't coming to stay again, is she?" I asked as way of an ice breaker on the coming discussion.
"Mother? Oh, no. Why would you ask that?"
"Because you only do this when you want something really big."
"Like mother coming to stay..."
"Like your mom coming to stay." I agreed.
She sat upright and looked down at me, still panting slightly. Finally, after several pregnant seconds, she asked me the most off the wall question I could have expected. "Do you like how Tanya looks?"
Tanya was our twenty-six-year-old, recently divorced, red headed neighbor. She wasn't quite my wife's best friend, but she numbered in the single digits of close friends. Tanya was slender and well built in all the right places, with very creamy white skin covered in little red freckles, which I'd seen almost all of, except for a very small triangle around her pussy, and the very front of her thirty-four D boobs. I'd seen all this many times when she lay out in her back yard, trying to get a tan without turning into a pink blob. She used so much sunblock to keep from getting burned, that she almost couldn't tan, a fact that I'd teased her about, numerous times.
"Well, what guy wouldn't," I answered, not at all sure where this was going.
"She is pretty, isn't she? I wished I still looked that good."
"You do."
"I don't, and you know it. I'm getting old and fat."
