Honeys Mother Heists A Painting

Married life with Honey and 3 kids was really good. Expanding the family did mean we would have to move from the big inner city block.

When Honey's mother found out we were trying for the third child, she didn't talk to my lovely wife for 3 months. That was worth it alone.

We were six months before Honey's next birthday and this particular Saturday, my parents in law came to our house for an unexpected visit. Now Honey, not being the favourite daughter, didn't twig as to why they would drive the 90 minutes south.

I was just glad for Honey. Besides all the competitive rubbish with her sister that she refused to engage in, she thought it was nice for them to take the time to see her and one group of grand children. I knew that they didn't care less about me.

It is around morning tea time on a spring morning when they arrived. The children were excited to see their grand parents drop in unannounced for a visit.

Honey brought them upstairs and it was pleasant. Her father was a national captain of industry before he retired, and could be a pleasure to talk to, when his wife allowed.

I started making tea and coffee, Honey brought a cake out of the fridge, together with some other items. Our kids were running around like lunatics, the boys playing chase.

I saw the look pass between the parents. It was disgust. Our lot were always unfairly being compared to their older cousins.

Nothing was said about that, and it was all small talk around the table. Nothing of any significance.

The parents got up to go and the mother made a bee line for our lounge room.

When I originally met Honey all those years ago, she was in a lot of financial strife. Sexully transmitted debt from the ex-husband. So I bought a whole heap of stuff from her to bale her out of this pickle. One of the things was an original piece of art work from a notable artist.

I found the mother standing in front of it, just gazing at the artwork. I'd had the frame replaced with something nicer and it all fixed up well. Honey displayed it proudly.

The mother turns to the father saying "Can you take that picture down and put it in the car. It will look so much better at my beach house."

I said "I don't think so."

"It's not your painting, it Honey's. It was a wedding present when she married that idiot."

"I bought it off Honey."

"Yeah, right."

The father stepped up and removed it off the wall and did what he was told. His ball were in his wife's purse.

Honey grasped my forearm and quietly said to me "We'll get it back one day."

I'm thinking that day can't come soon enough and not just for the painting's return either. If you get my drift.

What a cheek! These people had the hide of the devil and were just plan rude.

It took me a the rest of the day to calm down. I'd moved past the painting heist. In a quiet 10 minutes in the late afternoon, I made 2 quiet phone calls for the birthday plans.

I was putting together a surprise party for Honey. The mother was called and she listened, understanding it was a surprise. Then I called the sister and explained my plans.

She said "Honey will not like a surprise party. Who are you inviting? "

I went against my better judgement and accepted the premise of her question, telling her my list of 26 family and Honey's friends.

"What about Roz, Susie and Fran with their husbands?"

"They're not Honey's friends, they are your camping buddies."

"Honey likes them."

"They're not honey's friends. She wouldn't even know their surnames, little own their husbands first names."

"Well they should come anyway."

"I'm paying for caterers and that's not happening. It's about Honey, not you."

"Ok. See you later."

About 20 minutes goes by. Honey and I always had the similar phone. If hers is silver with blue trim, I'll buy the blue with silver trim. Same dog, different eye brows.

We are having a cup of tea and a chat. The sister would call Honey 3 times a day usually, the first at 07:00. The houses were no more 2 miles from each other. She even had to have a key for our house, however was not reciprocated.

So Honey's phone rings and she puts it on speaker.

The sister says "Hi, we are going out to dinner with Roz, Susie, Fran and husbands on Thursday night. Are you doing anything?"

Honey says "Nothing is planned."

"Good. Well you wouldn't mind baby sitting my kids then."

Honey had been broad sided. She loved her nephew and niece anyway, but not the way she had been duped, or commanded.

Honey said nothing.

The sister continued, "Oh and by the way your husband is planning a surprise birthday for you with people you wouldn't like and you're going to hate it. I've got to go. Bye."

Honey looked at me and I looked at Honey.

I told her what I had planned and the calls to her mother and sister earlier.

How could my such a nice girl, come out of that toxic family. That in itself was a miracle.

By this time in my life I had sold my perfect truck and traded it on a convertible. So I went downstairs to play with it and cool off a bit.

Honey was making lots of dinners for us around then. She and I would have Spaghetti Bolognese. We would have the pasta and meat with cheese. Number 1 son wanted only the meat, number 2 son only the pasta, and number 3, the daughter survived the first 6 years on custard and apple sauce. This was a nightmare for Honey, but she managed it with grace and patience.

After dinner I get the sons to help clear the table so I could stack the dish washer. Then all the children went into the bath. it was pyjamas, story then bed time.

Honey and I were beat. So we veged out in front of the TV for a while. She was always up for watching our football team play.

The lounge room is dimly lit by the TV screen and I have the volume down as I want the children to sleep. Honey has one leg draped over me and I have my right hand rubbing the soul of her foot. My left hand is in her lap with a mind of its own.

It moves the nightie up so access is gained to the top of her inner leg.

As a small child, Honey would stay each weekend with her grand parents. Grandma had a rule that after bath time, Honey didn't wear under pants over night, so her body can breathe.

When I was putting kids to bed, Honey was in and out of the bathroom. I was interested to see if that rule still held true.

While sitting on the couch. My left finger tips concentrated on the top of her inner leg, but I feel fur on my wrist. Good old Grandma. She always did like me.

Honey kept looking at the TV, and my left middle finger disappeared into something more comfortable, Honey.

Honey offers "How about we do this in our bedroom with the TV on or off?"

I lift the remote and press the red button. Next I stand and offer Honey my hand. Our room is so close, so I let her lead.

We enter our bedroom and it is dimly lit as the street lights barely shine through the lace curtains. I can see Honey lift her nightie off over her head, she peels back the covers and gracefully gets into bed.

I on the other hand, go around the other side of the bed, drop my boxer shorts, remove my bronco shirt and jump into bed.

Honey says with a smile "You are such a boy? Do you want to watch the play or play with me?

She hands me the TV remote. I answer by not pressing any buttons and place it on my bed side table.

I reach for Honey and we kiss. Gentle, but firm. She keeps her tongue in place.

Honey tells me "I'm sorry about what happened today."

"Don't worry about it. I've more important things to think about."

All this was happening while I had two fingers of my left hand inside her.

I pulled the bed covers back, leaned down to her pussy and engulfed it with my mouth.

Her intake of breath was heard while my tongue went to work. Slow and fast. Writing the alphabet with my tongue on her clit. I insert a thumb in her front and middle finger into her back door.

Next thing, I hear the words "Keep doing that. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop."

Then she gives a silent, but violent shudder.

I love making her cum. It is a better feeling than it happening to me.

Honey comes down from a great height and I give her a moment. She rolls onto her side with her back to me and I move her top leg toward her chest.

This opens her up and I crawl behind her and spoon into her back. I insert my thumb into her again and Junior seeks out her holy place. The switch is made quickly.

I feel this hot, wet, velvety, tight tunnel of skin surround me. I'm mentally counting kittens now as I stroke away. Mentally running laps, anything to not cum too quickly into this beautiful girl. Anything.

My body strokes away at this luscious delight. I bite her neck, pull her hair and tweak her nipples from behind realising that she like this.

Honey starts using her keagle muscles on me and starts squeezing my dick during this wet surge. The feeling is electric.

Then she stops.

I feel her left hand snake behind her, between our bodies, grab my dick and remove it. Her hand returns to her mouth and she puts saliva on her hand. Her hand returns to her back door and she wets it up.

I go to help but hear, "I'll do it."

I stop all motion and thought, holding still.

Her hand goes back to her mouth and she spits into it, then snakes her hand behind her onto my dick, applying the new saliva in an up and down motion.

Honey then grabs my dick and pulls it to her wet back door. She gives a little wiggle at the entrance or exit, and slides her body onto me.

I offer "It might be a little dry. I don't want this to hurt you."

"This is perfect, exactly how I want it."

I slide all the way home and hear the deep groan.

"Give it to me, just fuck me."

I've never refused Honey, so I piston in and out of her most taboo part. The feeling is amazing that she allows me to do this on a regular basis, while other couples just have vanilla sex. By comparison, I feel sorry for them.

I feel Honey rolling her hips now. She is trying to make me cum. She is really getting into it and her fingers go to her clit.

My balls contract and I can feel the tense sensation building. I blow a load into her as we cum together and call her name, telling her I love her.

I am still 7 inches deep in Honey. She turns her neck to kiss me with that sweet little mouth. The day can't finish in a better fashion.

She says to me "Being able to take me like this, has got to be better than having a silly old painting on a wall."

I blurt out "Absolutely!"

Honey slides off me, gets out of bed and does her nude walk to the bathroom to clean up before returning.

In the meantime, I clean myself with baby wipes and my hands with antiseptic wipes, then wait for her.

Honey returns and smiles, throws her nightie over her head and gets into bed next to me, snuggling in.

We drift off to slumber.

Painting, what painting?