Entertaining Marge

There was a match on that afternoon but it was one I wouldn't be attending. The media had been hyping it up as a battle of champions but as far as I was concerned it was a battle of losers. Both teams were going to finish the year in the bottom half of the ladder. I guess how low they were depended on this match.

I settled down to spend the afternoon on the computer. There was an app I was working on that I considered showed potential for both fun and profit. My wife came in just as I started working on it.

"I'm going down the street, Andy," she told me. "I'll be back by two."

I automatically adjusted that to back by three, maybe.

"Joe's going to the game and he's going to drop Marge off here and pick her up afterwards. If I'm not back in time tell Marge I won't be long."

Okay, if she was expecting Marge she might actually be back by two. Something to keep in mind.

Shortly after Joe came roaring along and pulled up outside. I wandered out to greet Marge and to deride Joe's choice of teams to follow, confident in the knowledge that my team was going to be in the top four at season's end.

Mutual sneering completed I escorted Marge into the front room. Once there I explained that my wife was down the street and would probably be back by two as she was expecting Marge.

"I didn't expect to be here until nearly two," Marge grumbled, "but Joe was all hot to get down to the ground. At least, that's what he claimed. I suspect he wants to get to the pub for a while before the game actually starts."

I agreed that was probably Joe's intentions and directed Marge's attentions to the TV, the women's magazines that were on the coffee table, and the kitchen in case she wanted coffee to put on the coffee table.

I returned to my computer and a few minutes later Marge was there, asking me where the sugar was. I went to the kitchen and pointed out the sugar bowl which was, surprisingly, on the kitchen table.

Another couple of minutes and she wanted to know where the remote to the TV was. I had to admit that this was reasonable as the remote did have a habit of hiding, especially after my wife had been using it. I went into the front room and found it hidden on top of the entertainment unit, the black control blending into the white doily or whatever it was on top of the unit making it hard to see.

She had her coffee and she had the remote and I could hear the TV going. What else could she want? It turned out that she wanted a pencil to do the puzzles in one of the magazines.

"Okay, have you got everything you need?" I asked, and Marge smiled and nodded.

I smiled back and gently suggested that if she did find she needed anything else she knew where to find me. I might also have suggested that if she did I would also assume that what she really wanted was me and that I'd act accordingly.

Marge had just laughed and waved me off so I returned to start my work - again.

Two minutes. Two damned minutes and she was back again.

"What did you mean that you'd assume I wanted you and that you'd act accordingly?" she demanded.

I swivelled my chair around, reached out to grab her, and hauled her across my knee. It was the work of a moment to flick her dress up and not much longer to pull her panties down far enough to expose her rump.

"You," I said, dropping a spank firmly on her bottom, "are deliberately trying to get a rise out of me. You have succeeded so what I'm going to do now is spank your pretty tush and then demonstrate just how big a rise I now have."

Marge kicked her legs about and said some rather rude things about my character but that didn't stop me delivering half a dozen of the best to her bottom. At least, most of them landed on her bottom. It wasn't my fault if she wriggled too much, resulting in one or two spanks landing somewhere a little more sensitive.

I swung her back to her feet and she stood there, clutching at her bottom. I was mildly amused to see her panties continue their descent, slithering down until they were around her ankles.

"You rotten pig," she yelled at me. "How dare you?"

For answer I simply stood up and pushed my trousers down, leaving my erection on display.

"I believe I said I'd demonstrate how big the rise was," I told her as she took a hasty backwards step.

"You're an animal," she gasped.

"And quite a healthy one," I agreed, "and don't worry. I have no intention of using this on you until you've taken your clothes off."

"Taken my clothes off? Are you crazy? I have no intention of getting undressed just so you can fuck me."

I lifted the front of her dress, revealing all, as they say, my free hand reaching out to cup her and squeeze lightly. Not something she'd expected if the strangled gasp she gave was any indication.

"I can fuck you like this if you prefer," I told her, "but it's a lot more fun if you're completely naked. Why not? You know you want to."

"No, I don't. What makes you think I want to?"

The way that her nipples were peaked and pressing against her blouse was one clue. The fact that she hadn't tried to pull away from me even though my hand was closed over her mound was another big hint. I didn't mention either of these things.

"Transference," I told her.

"What?" She sounded confused.

"I really want to feel you wrapped around my cock," I explained. "You can see for yourself how ready I am." Could she ever. Her eyes hadn't left it since I first whipped it out. "It's only natural for me to transfer my own desires onto you."

"Anyway, I'm not taking my clothes off." She sounded pretty definite.

"Okay, I can live with that. I'll take them off for you."

I moved closer, reaching out to undo the zip on her dress. She was slapping at my hands so I caught one and moved it away.

"How about you hold this for a few moments," I suggested, returning to the task of taking off her dress while Mage found herself holding firmly onto my erection. And she kept on holding it, too, even if she was blushing somewhat,

For the next couple of minutes the only time she let go of my cock was when she needed to take her arm out of a sleeve. Then she was standing there, naked, her dress and panties pooled around her feet and her blouse and bra tossed to one side.

I took a step back and looked at her, making it very evident that I was looking. Her breathing deepened slightly and she seemed to sway slightly towards me. I moved to the side a little and sat on the non-wheeled chair, my visitor's chair. I patted my lap, indicating she should come closer.

As soon as she was close enough I reached around her, clasping her bottom and drawing her closer. It only took a moment or so and she was standing there, straddling me, my face pressed against her breasts. I lightly mouthed her breasts, teasing each nipple in turn.

I pulled my head back and looked up at her.

"Sit down," I said softly, my hands on her hips encouraging her to do so.

As soon as she was in the right position my hand slipped between us, adjusting the position of my erection, feeling it brushing against her pursed lips. She seemed to hold her breath for a moment, blushing, as she continued to settle down, my cock rising up into her as she came.

She didn't stop until she was firmly seated, and even then she gave a little wriggle to make sure. Then she did two things. Started bouncing and started in on me.

"Oh my god. Joe will kill you if he finds out what you're making me do," she gasped, sliding up and down my pole with quite amazing dexterity.

My hands closed over her breasts and I played with them while she bounced, quite happily as far as I could see despite her complaints. I was too big, and too demanding. How could I expect her to cope because she was such a petite thing? (She seemed to be coping amazing well from where I sat.)

As things progressed her complaints died away, being unable to compete with the excited burbling she was starting as her arousal steadily built. Personally I just sat there and took everything she dished out. I certainly had no complaints. She was sweet and petite and certainly knew what to do with a man once she had hold of him.

I have to admit that I was encouraging her as she bounced, thrusting firmly up each time she descended onto me, and my thrusts were starting to get a lot firmer, driving in quite forcefully. I finally felt the difference when she was ready to climax and I really thrust into her

She gasped and shook as her climax ripped into her and I bounced and jerked as I released, spraying her passage quite liberally.

"I can't believe you did that," she said after we'd separated. "I am going to the bathroom to tidy up. I trust you'll have the decency not to speak to me again."

With that she departed, heading for the bathroom. I glanced at the clock. No problems. I figured she'd be out before the wife got home. I wandered down to the en suite in the main bedroom and tidied myself up. I did not want to be smelling of sex when the wife got home.

Returning to the computer I checked the camera. Yes, it had certainly been running during that little incident. I saved that file very carefully. One never knew if it might be needed.

My wife, by the way, is rather an adventurous woman. I wondered what she'd say if I suggested stripping and fucking Marge while she watched. Definitely something to think about. Marge would certainly agree if I told her that the camera had been on.