R Simpson - Massage parlor wife

Now, he could piston-thrust his tongue and bring her to quick climax. His hands held her buttocks, squeezing them, and pinching in and out while his tongue action did marvelous things on Terry's erect clitoris. The licking produced the passionate, liquid response he was longing for. His mouth filled with her joyous juices as she flooded it.

Some of it dripped down his face, as he stayed tightly pressed to her mound, devouring her.

She continued letting her tongue lick around his anus, as he lapped away inside her hot hole. Then, he flopped over, and she seized his tool.

"I'm going td ride you," she panted.

"Go ahead, honey! I'm ready for round two!"

Brad was telling the truth. His jackhammer penis was standing straight up, rigid, and ready. She straddled him, and let it slide up her gash. It was a glove-tight fit.

He reached up, and pinched her breasts. The electrical sexual excitement this engendered, caused her to grip it with her vagina, massage it vigorously, and cry out in passionate excitement, "Fuck me, ohhhh, Brad, give it to me!"

Throwing his penis up to meet her down thrusting vagina, he rammed it up there.

"Fuck it, fuck it, ohhhh – ahhhhh!!" The hot splash of sperm shot into her, and she pumped her vagina in quick, pulling movements, squeezing the contents out of him.

As he released his grip on her breasts, and lay back, she slid off his sticky joystick and went into the bathroom to douche. Brad followed, his penis dripping cum onto the carpet.

"Watch it," she complained, rushing to the bathroom, and grabbing a towel, and wiping the stuff off as quickly as she could. Then, she stepped into the shower, and her husband joined her. As the two of them showered, he washed her body gently massaging her breasts, and reaching down to her furry triangle.

When they finished, they stepped out of the shower, and got dressed to go out to dinner.

After dinner, Brad wanted to stop at a topless bar, and did. As the beautiful girls came dancing out on the runway, Terry found herself enjoying the sight of their naked breasts bobbing around in front of her.

Then, the red-headed nude dancer turned around, and wiggled her bare behind.

"Isn't she a knockout?" Terry smiled.

Instantly, her husband wheeled around, "Look! I'm the one who is supposed to appreciate the female form – not YOU!"

"Sorry about that," she replied quickly, "but I find her appealing."

"How appealing?"

"Oh, I don't want to fuck her, if that's what you mean," she smiled, enjoying seeing her husband's alarm.

"I was just trying to see if you had any lez tendencies," he said nervously.

Reaching down under the table, she felt her husband's penis. "I can see your glands are functioning very well," she smiled.

Reaching over, Brad teased her, "And I have no way of knowing!"

"Yes, you do," she insisted, "but if you slide your hands under my panties, and slip a finger inside my slit to fish around for my clit, I'll clobber you on the spot."

Once the green-eyed, white-skinned, redhead topless, bottomless dancer noticed Brad was looking at the girl beside him, she figured she'd pull the attention back to herself. Wiggling over, she flung her huge breasts so close he could breathe on them.

As if that weren't enough, the redhead turned, and bent over almost brushing her buttocks in his face. Brad got a big charge out of this, and flipped his tongue out, licking the girl's behind.

"We're getting out of this crummy joint," the distraught wife glowered at the nude dancer. "And if I catch you licking anybody's ass but mine, you're in big trouble!"

When Terry got home that night, her husband surprised her by announcing, "I'm glad we had such a good time tonight, honey because I've got to split out tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow," Terry blurted in exasperation.

She had thought finally they could have some time together. She'd become so disgusted with the off-beat sex acts that the two men had had her perform, she'd determined to never again become involved in sex for sale. But, the nerve of Brad suddenly announcing he was going away again caught her off guard.

"Take me with you," she finally said softly, as she sat down in a chair facing the picture window looking out on the lake.

Brad came over and sat in a chair beside her, "I can't, honey! Please be patient with me, honey. I'm earning good money on my job and when I get some stashed away you and I will take the greatest vacation ever."

"Where will we go?"

"Spain, Portugal, maybe the Canary Islands!"

"The Canary Islands," Terry enthused, "Oh, honey, promise me you'll take me there. I've always wanted to go to the Canaries."

"If you're a good girl and don't make such a big fuss when I have to go on my business trips, we'll not only go, we'll buy some land there and maybe build a house someday," he smiled.

"Oh, that sounds too good to be true," she said, getting out of her chair and going over to kiss him.

"Now, baby doll, I've got to get some shut-eye, so I can get up early again tomorrow and catch that plane."

"Where to this time?"

"Miami," he said quietly.

"Oh, I envy you so much," she told him frankly, "You have so much fun traveling all the time…"

"It isn't fun when you have to do it for a living," he told her flatly.

Glancing down at her watch, she realized it was time to go to bed, and she decided to make the bed up, and put some things out so she could fix breakfast for her husband.

They slept soundly, and when the alarm went off, Terry got up and fixed a hearty breakfast for her husband. They chatted, and joked and Terry had made her decision – no more work at the local massage parlor.

She drove Brad to the airport, kissing him goodbye, and whispering, "Don't forget the Canary Islands!"

"I won't baby, and I won't forget you either – so long, sweetie!"

And then, Brad was gone down the runway to get on his jet. Terry turned and walked back to her car, a feeling of loneliness sweeping over her. As she drove along the Lakeshore Drive she looked out at the waters. They were choppy today, just like the turbulence surfacing inside her as being alone became reality once more. She glanced at the high-rise skyscrapers overlooking the lake, and she wished she could live in one of those deluxe apartments with a man who'd stay at home with her. But, she finally reasoned, that was her lot in life, and she'd make the best of it. Yet, no sooner had she gotten back to her apartment, than the phone was ringing. Picking it up, she started talking to Laura.

"Where's Brad?" Laura asked, knowing he'd gone again, as she'd watched them drive out earlier.

"Oh, around," Terry replied, hating to admit he had left her alone again.

"Around where – the airport?"

"Alright, so I drove him to O'Hare Field. He's on his way to Miami…"

"That's nice," Laura laughed.

Terry felt like hanging up on her.

"Well, if you don't want to be alone tonight, you know you can always join me at the Roman Massage…"

"Thanks," Terry said, "I'll let you know later!"

"Alright, luv – take care!"

After Laura hung up, she put some music on her stereo and listened to it, and watched the sun shining on the lake. The beauty of the sun gilding the rippling water held a strange fascination for her. And then, she found herself dreaming. And as she dreamed she thought of some of the younger men, nearer her age she could have married, but turned down because she wanted the money, the opportunity that they could offer. And it cut into her to think of the choice she had made. Now, that she had experienced sex with a variety of right-on, virile, younger men, she felt it hard to settle for one. The music sort of released her inhibitions, and she decided why not? Why not go back and have a ball? She fixed herself some lunch, and later phoned Laura.