Midge Gette - The more the sexier

"Well, you must do what makes you happiest, my dear, but at least for the present, I'll really need you. Much to be done about

getting the cottage furnished and all, once it's built."

"That's right. Well, just so you understand." She smiled at him happily. "Funny how I always get along better with old people than young," she remarked. "I think all this must be fate."

"You'll have to help me straighten out other mistakes, my dear," he told her, vastly amused. "I've been worried about Hermie."

"Oh gosh, yes. Poor Hermie. Well, just cut off Debbie's charge accounts and that will help a little."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Well, we'll see," he said. "Nothing impulsive, remember?"

"I really believe I'm going to be a big help to you," she told him. "I'm supposed to have a very good head for business."

"That's a blessing," Uncle Nate said.

After Nate and Sharon had gone, the Harrows settled in on their couch to enjoy a cup of tea.

"You know," Beth began, "Nate is such a good man. It's too bad he has such a strange family to look after."

"Oh, Beth, I wouldn't call them strange," John replied, patting her on the knee. "They're just a little…a little…"

"Strange," Beth said again,

John laughed and set down his teacup. Then he pulled Beth into his arms and gave her a long, deep kiss.

When he was done, Beth looked at him quizzically, as if to say, Is that all? Then she smiled and nodded toward the bedroom.

John laughed a deep, hearty laugh. Then he picked his wife up off the couch and carried her across the room. When they had reached their large bed, he tossed her down playfully and set about removing his clothes.

"There, dear, not so fast," Beth said, rolling toward him with her arm outstretched. "Take your time. Here, let me help you."

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Beth wrapped her arms around John's waist. With her cheek nuzzling against his belly, she sighed deeply. Then she leaned over slightly and bit the edge of his jeans, yanking open the button of his fly. Biting the edge of his undershorts, she pulled downward until John's big cock was standing free.

Pulling his pants down by hand, Beth paused to stare at her husband's huge prick. She admired the way the network of blue veins surrounded his shaft. And she delighted in the way his cocktip almost glowed a deep purple.

Grabbing his shaft, she could feel his meat being pumped with fresh blood. It thrilled her to feel so much life in something that moments ago was just a limp little tube of skin. And now it was so powerful, an engine of desire. It was so thick, so pungent, so delicious. She could hardly wait to feel it reaming out her cunt, driving between her legs savagely as stroke after stroke filled her with pleasure. She wanted it so bad. She wanted it jammed in balls-deep, unleashing its thick load of creamy sperm, filling her with that special heat that made her so happy.

"Now!" Beth sighed. "Oh, John, I want it now. Please, take off my clothes and let me have it. But be gentle-at first!"

John smiled knowingly. He remembered how in the beginning of their marriage that Beth only liked sex slow and easy, treating their lovemaking like they were sitting down to a box of chocolates. Too dainty. Too restrained. And then he thought about how she had changed over the years. He thought about how she learned to love her sex rising to an excruciating crescendo after a slow and fulfilling build-up.

He remembered, too, that at first he had been unable to last long enough to satisfy his wife's desire for hot, savage sex. He would always come just before she went over the edge, no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself. Admittedly, his orgasms were satisfying. But only for him.

But through the years, with patience and a lot of love, they managed to learn how to please one another, and please one another totally. No longer was it a process of two people fucking. No, their lovemaking had become almost an entity in itself, something they gladly sacrificed themselves to each time they fucked.

John joined his wife on the bed and proceeded to carefully take off her clothes. He savored every moment, enjoying seeing more and more of her body, thinking about the moment when he would thrust his cock into her wet cunt, feeling his meat surrounded with that special warmth that only a woman could provide.

"You're beautiful," he gasped, stripping his wife bare. "And this is going to be so good… so good…"

"Oh, John, do it. Please, do it now. Ohhhhh!"

Spreading her plump legs wide, John stared down at her pink pussy. The lips were puffy and wet and he could almost see her delicious little fuck-hole. Her clitoris was erect, however, and he chose to stroke it gently before easing his cock inside her.

"Yes," she squealed. "Keep doing that. Ohhhhh, just a little more… to the… side… yesssss… like that. Oh, John, that feels so good!"

Working on her clit until he thought she was sufficiently aroused, John then prepared to mount her. He scooted up on his knees between her widespread legs and aimed his red cocktip at her hole.

Beth smacked her lips and tossed her head from side to side. Looking down through her cleavage, all she could see was the tip of her husband's penis, and she desperately wanted it to disappear-deep into her cunt!

Gripping his shaft, John guided his penis into her. She was so wet that he was in to the hilt on the first stroke. Then he began

pumping slowly, working up the rhythm bit by bit, trying to gauge his wife's urgency against his own until they were locked into the timeless bliss of mindless fucking.

When John finally came, he drenched his wife's cunt with an overflowing load of his jism. Feeling so much of his cum sizzling into her snatch, Beth gave herself up to her orgasm and came two times before collapsing beneath him.

Then they slipped into the satisfying sleep that follows only the most pleasurable of climaxes.

Sharon made no secret of her sudden attachment to her uncle, but she could not be drawn out in any explanation, and with admitted malice she enjoyed worrying her mother and sister by it.

Plans for another cottage, to be occupied by Sharon and her uncle, were set in motion. Uncle Nate thought his sister should be notified and consulted, but Sharon demurred. "Not yet, Uncle Nate," she begged. "Anyway-anyway, Mother will be glad to have me out of the house. There's nothing to worry about on that score. I just wish we weren't going to Lorraine's tonight. Why did you go and accept, anyway?"

The frankness that had characterized their first conversation in the Harrow cottage had been maintained. They had small spats, usually good-humored, and if Sharon was learning that her seemingly easily influenced uncle had a mind of his own, he in turn was learning that most of the girl's headstrong half-rudeness was merely a veneer she had acquired over lonely years to protect her innately tender susceptibilities. On the whole, they got along well and had a healthy respect for each other. And part of Sharon's hunger for affection, acknowledged and demonstrated, was appeased in her relationship with the chuckling little man,

"Well, I'll tell you," he said now, "I may be, as I have told you, a little disappointed about much I've seen in the family, Sharon, but I do like Lorraine. She's a very kind person."

"Oh, yes, Rainey is okay. But tonight we'll have to put up with the rest of them. Mother doesn't really like Rainey, but she loves the idea of dining at the Talmadge place. I don't like hypocrisy."

"You needn't go, you know."

"Don't be silly. Do you think I'd throw you to that den of wolves without being there to protect you?"

Having managed without her protection for over seventy years, Uncle Nate was justly touched nevertheless. The love Sharon had for him meant much to him and he could not doubt its genuineness. She alone cared nothing for his wealth, and in all probability would have preferred him without it.