Get Real,
Big things often have little beginnings and perhaps the real start of all this adventure for Thomas was when he went to visit a friend in his country town, Albany. She was watching a documentary that Monday morning about the Porongorup hills not far from Albany.
Helen was a muscular little woman with straight black hair and green eyes who had once stayed with Thomas and his wife, Mary, on their rural block, just outside of town. Thomas had been immediately attracted to the woman and they had become lovers and now she had her own house in town with her seven year old son. He would visit her and make love, usually on weekdays when the son was at school.
On this particular occasion they were both naked and in the living room, and Thomas was kneeling behind Helen who was on all fours as he slowly poked her. He was savouring the feel of her muscular little love tube, and she in turn was enjoying the reaming out she was getting with that big, rimmed glans. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, drooling, her tits swinging slowly in time to his pumping. But it had been a couple of weeks since they had last met, and he could no longer hold back. Suddenly he sped up, groaned, rammed in all the way, and shot his load into her. The woman made a disappointed sound but Thomas stayed in her and, leaning forward, began to tweak her large nipples and play with her breasts, so that she became silent, hopeful.
Just then he noticed the telly, which they had forgotten to switch off, though the sound was down. It was playing shots of hills to their north, and Thomas thought how nice it would be to go camping there. But now he forgot all about that for the woman in front of him was starting to get very excited. He himself began to move faster, feeling her start to contract down there.
"Ok, mate!" she moaned. "Just ram it in. I'm almost there!"
She opened her mouth and began to grunt in time to his pumping, then gave a long wail of climax as he spurted up her in a flurry of rapid thrusts. They lay collapsed on the floor, still embracing, still coupled, and Thomas thought again of the hills.
He therefore persuaded Mary, his wife, to come with him on a bike ride for a couple of days in the hills,camping out, having fun. She agreed but was clearly unenthusiastic.
It was a fine spring Saturday when they set out, round about ten o'clock.
On the morning of the second day, the Saturday, they rose somewhat cramped and stiff from their first night in the little dome tent, rode a few kilometres to the Narrikup roadhouse and, still somewhat chilled, had a pot of tea and raisin toast for two in the oiled wooden interior. The jolly Yorkshire woman in charge gave them an extra serving for free when she heard of their bicycle trip. She reminisced about the ones she had done in her youth on the Moors, and then asked where they were going.
"Just to the Porongurups," said Thomas cheerfully. "Probably head back this afternoon. Short trip this time."
The woman, whose name she said was Julie, had sat down at their table at this stage and though she and Thomas were talking and laughing about things, Mary seemed unwilling to join in. After a while she excused herself and went to the toilet, but neither Thomas nor the woman paid much attention. Thomas had been quietly sizing the woman up as they spoke. He saw that she was a plump, middle aged creature with curly brown hair, freckles and blue eyes that actually twinkled when she smiled. At this point she reached over and took his hand. She was wearing some kind of musky perfume that really turned Thomas on. Now that she was gently squeezing his hand, he flushed and started to lengthen. He noticed that her blouse had for some reason become unbuttoned half way down the front and he could see the freckled sides of her big breasts. She grinned at his interest, but made no comment.
Instead she said, blandly, "If you do happen to come back this afternoon, you can spend the night in our granny flat, out the back. I'm usually having a siesta there till about four, but don't hesitate to knock me up, if you feel the need." She gave a little shudder at the unconscious double entendre she had made.
"I'll be alone," she added.
"Thanks," he said. She gravely gave his hand a squeeze and stood up, bent over to wipe a spill of milk on the table. In doing so she gave him a full view of her ripe tits. They were quite naked and unsupported and sagged down almost escaping her blouse. She stood and slowly buttoned up her front, her buttocks, tight in the black slacks, swinging teasingly.
