Five years or so had passed by since I'd first met Hayley and over that time I'd come to the conclusion that my son Matt was gay. He had to be. There could be no other plausible explanation for why he steadfastly refused to have sex with his stunning wife.
Not that I was complaining though. His loss was my gain. Whilst he had been swanning about all over the country with his work and neglecting my daughter in law, I had been fucking her every chance I got. And let me tell you this, it was a regular occurrence as she was every bit as good in bed as she looked out of it.
I think the saying is sex on legs. And in her case it was ... is even. She oozes sex from every pore of her being. And her body ... shapely ... well proportioned ... buxom ... curvaceous ... voluptuous? You pick the analogy. She is all of these and more.
She's just reached her thirtieth birthday but she looks as good now as she did the day I met her. Better perhaps. Although not beautiful in a classical sense she's still retained her good looks. Her hair is long and wavy and naturally blonde and her deep blue eyes still twinkle with an intensity that is sometimes downright scary. As I suspected it would, her weight has yo-yoed a bit but on the odd occasion it did increase it just made her tits and ass bigger, which in my opinion wasn't a bad thing at all!
* * *
Estranged for many years, I'd reconnected with my family at my ex wife Judy's, Aunt Betty's funeral. I know, it's a bit of a mouthful but Aunt Betty had been the only one of her family that I liked and I felt it only right that I pay my final respects at her passing. As you can imagine it was a trifle strained and awkward at the time but that's where I met Hayley.
Shortly after the funeral Judy announced she was getting married again and would be emigrating to Australia. Or was it New Zealand or perhaps Canada? I can't remember. I wasn't paying much attention at the time. All my focus was on Hayley.
But as soon as Judy mentioned marriage, evil me got to wondering if I should have a stab at fucking her before the happy event. Not that I wanted her back of course ... oh no ... but it would be fun to mess with her head for a little while.
I know what you're thinking. I'm a right bastard. And that's exactly what she called me just before she walked into the Registry Office to say her vows. She was a bit unsteady on her legs; well you would too if you'd just been fucked by me. I also knew my cum was leaking out of her well pummelled pussy because she'd had no time to clean up before the taxi arrived to pick her up. Told you I was a bastard!
In a way it was all too easy. I'd popped round to wish her good luck and found her all alone struggling with the zip of her white dress. In true gentlemanly fashion when I went to help her I just lowered it instead.
She'd spun round to confront me and I instantly caught the full blast of her breath. She'd been drinking, no doubt to calm her nerves. Now the one thing I knew about my ex wife was that she rarely drank because as soon as alcohol passed her lips she was ripe for fucking. She couldn't help herself. It was just the way she was wired.
As she stood in front of me with her chest heaving in anger I scanned her body. I have to say she was in great shape. In fact she looked better than I could ever remember her being in the past. But then again I wasn't around much when we were married. She'd gone the whole hog for the wedding with white high heel shoes, white stockings held in place by a white suspender belt, white panties and a white bra.
What can I say! My cock immediately stood to attention. I threw her on the bed and though she struggled initially it didn't take her long to open her legs for me. By the time I entered her she was a quivering mess. She really wanted my big, thick cock. Well that's what I think she was saying. It was difficult to make out her words exactly in between her moans and groans as I gave her a right good fucking. She came three times before I let her have the contents of my ball sac and let me tell you, there was a lot in there! I'd not had sex for a while.
Clearly I hadn't been invited to the wedding but I lingered around just to catch a glimpse of Hayley and to gauge her interaction with Matt. I was pleased when I saw there wasn't a whole lot of love and affection evident between the two of them.
I looked around for my daughter Anna but I couldn't make her out. There didn't seem to be anyone there that could have been her. I'd had no contact with her since the brief introduction at Aunt Betty's wake at the rugby club. Even then I had paid her scant attention. She didn't push herself forward and kind of hid behind her mother the whole few seconds she was in my company so she'd made no impression on me at all.
Much later, Hayley told me that she called her The Mouse because she was as quiet as one and used to scuttle off quickly and hide if anyone took the slightest bit of interest in her. She later told me that Anna had gone to live abroad with Judy and her new husband.
* * *
To celebrate her thirtieth birthday Hayley's friends had organised a girl's only holiday to Portugal. It was only for a week but I have to say I missed her enormously. In fact I missed her more than I thought I would.
I know, I know, she's not my wife but as Matt is constantly working away we're together so much she might as well be. So it was hard not to feel a tinge of jealousy when I watched her jet off.
What's that I hear you say? You have a compassionate side? Well yeah I do. It's something that seems to have developed since I met Hayley.
But I'd made sure Hayley had something to remember me by because the night before she left we fucked like rabbits and she was both exhausted and fully satisfied by the time she departed.
When I told her to be careful she laughingly replied it would take at least a week for her pussy to recover so there was no chance of her even wanting to be fucked by anyone else; not that she did anyway because she loved me and only me. She gave me an enormous bear hug when she said that last bit and I'm sure I saw a tear in her eye.
* * *
A week later and we were laying together in my bed. I had picked her up at the airport and brought her straight to my apartment. Matt was away again. Seconds after closing the door we tore each others clothes off and had mad, wild, frenetic sex for a good hour or more.
As we basked in the afterglow I couldn't help but ask ...
"So, did anything happen on your holiday that you want to discuss with me?"
Hayley chuckled. That deep throaty chuckle I love. "No, nothing." she answered.
I looked across at her. "Really," I said, "I'm amazed. I'd have thought someone as good looking as you would get hit on all the time."
She laughed. "Well I do get hit on but it's usually yobbish blokes who've had too much to drink ..." Her reply just sort of tailed off and I felt there was something else she was not saying.
"So, it's usually blokes is it?" I teased, emphasising the word usually, "so I assume by that, you get hit on by women as well?"
She tilted her head to look at me and smiled. "Of course ... you'd be surprised how many times I've been propositioned, especially on holiday!"
I felt a surge of emotion flood my body, most of it manifesting itself in my hardening cock. I felt jealous and intrigued and most definitely turned on.
I cleared my throat. "So ... erm ... have you ... erm ...?"
She chuckled. "Once or twice, when I was much younger, nothing too heavy just a bit of slap and tickle." She grinned up into my face, her eyes twinkling with glee, trying to gauge my reaction.
"So ... erm ... what about this holiday then ... did you get hit on at all?"
"Oh yes, many times ... it was great!" She was almost laughing at me now and I'm sure she could feel that I was now the proud possessor of a raging hard on.
I gulped. "So ... erm ... what ... erm ... what happened?" My insides were churning now from the fear and titillation.
