When I first got to know Terry and Robyn from the sports club that my husband, Ken, and I have been members of for a number of years, they were just another nice suburban couple - attractive, lively and very friendly. Robyn was the club member but Terry used to join us on social occasions. We would often dine there and the four of us always made a really happy group.
Robyn and I often partnered at tennis and, to be absolutely honest, I was slightly in awe of her. A smart, confident and very competent woman, she ran her own successful business from their house and managed a great home at the same time. I guess that I'm very similar (even to working from home, though I work for Ken's business) but I always saw Robyn as the superior wife and mother; she was just one of those women that inspire admiration. And when we showered together after a game, it drew comment how alike we were physically - curvaceous, extremely busty and physically toned. And it's true that when we were playing, two women with naturally huge tits, swinging like milk bags, attracted a lot of male attention!
As the months went by, I realised how attractive I found Terry. As you will know from "Daddy Darren", I had always' been attracted to older men. Terry's big frame (well over six feet and a little over 200 pounds) and his baldness (a great weakness of mine) really got my imagination racing and I would imagine him and Robyn in bed, conjuring up really wild scenarios of wonderful, abandoned sex. Terry was quite flirtatious and I just imagined that Robyn, beneath her conservative, very proper exterior, would be the perfect fawn to his highly tuned libido.
Then, on New Year's Eve 2004, just over a year ago, we were all at the club dinner-dance, always a hugely popular event. It was past midnight and I was on the dance floor with Terry while Ken and Robyn were happily laughing and joking with the group of friends we had been celebrating with, a very normal occurrence as we both loved dancing whilst our spouses were never that keen. In fact they always joked that we were OK as long as we could dance the night away. It was a slow number and Terry was his usual flirtatious self, teasing me mercilessly. Suddenly, as he pulled me against him, I felt, for the first time ever, the pressure of his semi-erect cock against my stomach. At first I thought I must be mistaken, but then I looked into his amused eyes and realised it was what I thought. He grinned, a slight questioning in his eyes.
"My God, Terry!" I whispered in his ear. "Robyn's obviously in for a great intro to 2005 when you get her home!" "Hmmmm," he grunted, almost dismissively.
I leaned back so that I could focus on his whole face and saw her was serious.
"What do you mean by 'hmmmmm'?" I grinned, slightly taken aback
"As long as by intro you're not referring to my cock into her pussy, but a rather an intro into a deep sleep you're right on track."
He remained serious and guided us out onto the glass-enclosed veranda, which had been packed a short time before but was now deserted as people had been leaving and they had all moved back into the main room. The others could still see us if they looked but we were now, in effect, alone.
Terry explained softly. "There's nothing wrong, hon, but Robyn likes her routine. It's late - she'll want to get back into her sleep routine after a late night like this. Don't get me wrong, hon. we have good sex but nothing adventurous."
Typical me! I immediately felt sorry for the gorgeous big hulk. I couldn't imagine it ... both my first husband and Ken never had this problem because I was always willing ... always. In fact, my first hubby admitted at the end of our marriage, "We might have fallen out of love, Lou, but the sex was always wonderful!"
My heart went out to him, the drink has loosened the little reserve I have, and I ground my belly against that erection, my body wanting to comfort him. He groaned and I felt his cock lurch to a full hardon.
"Lou, maybe you better not do that."
"Don't you like it?" I teased him.
His breathing had become rapid and his face was reddening.
"I love it, hon, but if you don't stop ... I'm gonna...oh, shit ... oh God.... oh fuck no!" I felt him quivering against me and his tenseness disappeared as he slumped a little against me.
"Fu-u-u-uck," he half laughed and straightened up. He grinned sheepishly and whispered in my ear that he had to get to the men's room. Guiding me back inside, he hurried off. I joined the others, my mind racing as I imagined what he was doing in some lonely cubicle, but when he returned about five to ten minutes later, he was his usual cheery self. Only a surreptitious little wink as we were all saying goodnight acknowledged our little secret. All I could think of as we drove home that night was the pressure of that lovely cock. As always, I told Ken all about it straight away and he spent the trip teasing me about what I'd like to do with Terry, grinning all over his face as he drove, and when I leaned over and grabbed his cock through his trousers, he was hard.
"Does this mean you wouldn't mind, darling?" I asked, knowing the answer already.
"You know I never do, babe," he grinned. "Just give me all the graphic details afterwards!"
Just two days later, I was working at home early one afternoon when Terry's car swept up the driveway and he casually sauntered through the French windows, a smile creasing his craggy face. His look was enough; we knew the score immediately, and there followed the most wonderful couple of hours of abandoned sex. I have to admit, I took charge and tried to make it as exciting and kinky as I could, remembering what he'd said about his sex life with Robyn, and I'll never forget the look he gave me as I rode him to climax in the last minute or two - one of gratitude and relief that he had found a way to satisfy the darker side of his sexuality. He growled, arching his hips as he came and it was one of the biggest loads my cunt had ever received.
Since then we have met on average about three times a month and I've been able to satisfy Terry's kinkier side - or I thought I had until about a month ago.
We were at the club again on a Saturday evening and Terry and I were dancing again when, out of the blue he asked me, "You ever fucked a young boy, Lou ... I mean since you married."
"What brought that on?" I laughed softly, looking into his eyes and seeing a lively, questioning spark in his eyes. "I just wondered if you ever liked the idea of screwing a young guy?"
I smiled back. "Of course." I was just a little embarrassed by admitting this but knew Terry well enough by now to know he wouldn't be phased by the answer.
"Really?" he grinned. He moved his mouth closer to my ear. "You really would like to be screwed by a teenage cock ... have a hard virgin tool ploughing that gorgeous pussy of yours?"
"Terry!" I protested. "You make me sound like a predatory old whore!" I giggled, rather thrilled by his questioning. As the mother of two boys, I had inevitable wondered what it would be like, especially as my eldest, at 16, was now growing into a really stud-like youngster and was very obviously obsessive about sex at the moment.
Terry ground his hips against me and I could feel that now familiar erection pressing into me. "Yeah!" he husked. "Bet you'd love it." We danced on for about two minutes before he said: "What about that kid over there, the one helping out at the bar?"
I looked over and a young guy of about six foot and 170 lbs, muscled and lean with light brown hair and fresh good looks. I recognised him as a boy who I'd seen around from time to time, doing various jobs round the club.
