R Simpson - Massage parlor wife

Terry Morgan fastened her seatbelt and observed the no-smoking sign as the plane prepared to land at O'Hare Field in Chicago. She couldn't wait to get back home and be with her husband Brad. Even though she liked to visit her parents, she always missed her husband, and coming back to him was an event. After three years of marriage she thought she shouldn't care this much, but she did.

The plane swooped through cloudbanks, rushing over choppy Lake Michigan, and moments later landed at O'Hare. She felt relieved as she felt the thump that told her she had indeed touched ground again.

Unfastening her seat belt, she reached under the seat to pick up her small flight bag she carried with her. Then, when the pilot gave permission, she got up and headed down the crowded aisle, eager to see Brad.

Meantime, Brad was waiting anxiously. The plane was over an hour later due to headwinds, forcing a route change, and he felt nervous until he saw her walking toward him. Terry's soft brown eyes, with their radiant glow, and her beautiful body always turned him on. The trim legs, slim waist, and vibrant movements were capable of giving him an instant hard-on when he hadn't seen her for a few days, or hadn't gotten his rocks off on a regular basis. And when this was happening, Terry could tell by the wicked look in his eyes, and she'd reprimand him, telling him not to look at her like that. But, she really liked it, and wouldn't have him look at her any other way.

But Terry knew how to use the appeal she held for her husband to her advantage. He'd bought a condominium on Lakeshore Drive because she wanted one so badly. He let her spend much too much on clothes, and a small sports car. But, Terry knew what he expected in bed and accommodated him.

"Hi, honey," Brad smiled enthusiastically as he saw his shapely wife walk toward him, arms outstretched. They embraced, kissing intimately, oblivious to bystanders.

"Oh, I'm glad you're back," he sighed, "I worried about you… when they said the plane was delayed because of bad weather – I didn't know if…"

"I'm happy we're together, honey – let's go somewhere tonight."

"I know a nice little place," he smiled, and together they walked out of the air terminal heading for the restaurant. Brad made it a point to order the best steak in the house, and they laughed, and joked.

"Let's stop in a bar for a nightcap," her husband smiled. She agreed, but reluctantly for it was a topless, bottomless place.

As they sat down, Terry quickly observed only one other woman was in the place.

"Isn't this some dame they've got up there, wiggling her butt, wild?" he laughed, eyeing her body closely.

"I guess so but she doesn't do anything for me," Terry told him flatly.

"That's good," he chuckled, "I'd have to worry if she did turn you on."

A scantily clad waitress came over, and took their order. Moments later the drinks were served, and then the nude dancer came over and flung her breasts in Brad's face.

Terry was so irate she couldn't speak her disgust. But Brad was turned on. So much so, he said loud enough for the young nude dancer to hear, "Hasn't she got a nice set of knockers?"

"IF you say so," Terry said tightly.

The girl was enjoying displaying herself before Brad, who watched her every move with such rapt attention. Quickly, turning around she wiggled her bare behind before him.

"Looks good enough to eat," Brad smiled at Terry, who glared at him, "I'm getting out of here. If you want to stay here, it's alright with me."

"Oh, Terry," he chided her, as he followed her through the smoky, noisy bar with its perpetually flashing red and purple lights. "Come back here – I was just having fun."

But Terry wouldn't listen. She stalked over to the car and waited until he paid the bill and joined her.

Then, as they were driving home he reached over and stroked his wife's leg, "Honey, you're twice as beautiful as that nude dame is – I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's alright," Terry told him, "but I don't see how men turn-on looking at those sluts shaking their butts over their beer. It isn't sanitary!"

"Was that what worried you went I watched her?" Brad gently teased.

"No," she admitted, "That isn't what worried me at all!"

"Reach over here, honey. I got something nice for you to feel."

"Forget it," she snapped, still not willing to erase completely some if the resentment she felt over the bar incident. But passion prompted him to reach over and take her hand and place it over his hard penis. She didn't object, but she wanted him to make the move.

"See what I mean, honey?"

"Yes," she smiled.

Moments later they were in their bedroom undressing, and as Brad slid his aborts down his huge, pulsating penis popped into view.

Grasping it in his hand, he joked with Terry… "Miss me?"

"I always miss you," she grinned, letting her bra fall to the floor as her naked breasts appeared before him. Brad came toward her, enjoying the sight of her luscious, red-nippled breasts. And as she lowered her panties slowly, he got turned-on. The moist, brown, curly pubic hair of her vagina was always a source of fascination.

"Honey, let's try some different things tonight," he suggested.

"I guess watching that naked dame flip her tits around really got your motor going," she said, going over to the bed.

"I felt like running my rod between her knockers," he smiled, as he straddled her, lowering himself so that his penis slipped between her breasts.

His hands went on her breasts, and he pressed them against his rock-hard cock, letting his scrotum get excited as he slowly slid the head of it up to her mouth.

"You're dripping," she teased, as she spotted a crystal drop of cum on the head of his penis.

"Baby," he begged, "Let's get going – I can't wait to fuck you."

"Go ahead…"

"I want it from behind," he smiled, like a bad little boy who knows he's asking for something naughty.

"What if I don't want to let you?"

"You want to make me happy, don't you?"

"Will it really make you that happy to slide that banana up my asshole?"

"Yes," he insisted.

"Alright, but don't kill me. You've got a big prick, and I've got a small, tight asshole."

"That's why I want to fuck it," he grinned, as his beautiful, dark-skinned wife rolled over, revealing her smooth, well shaped buttocks to his hot eyes.

"Baby," he begged like a little boy, "Arch your ass up a little – okay?"

"Okay," she said, raising up so that her elbows dug into the bed, and her buttocks, arched as they were, became easily available to his huge penis.

His hands gripped her buttocks, parting the cheeks, as he slowly started sliding his tool into her. All went well until he came to the tight anal ring.

"I can't get it up there," he complained.

"I told you I've got a tight asshole," she said emphatically. And then, he thought of something.

"If I had something to slide it up there…"

"Use some baby oil I've got in there," she said pointing to the bathroom. Brad pulled out, and went to the bathroom to find the oil. Locating it, he came back, pouring some in his hands and then all around the head of his male member. Getting back on the bed, he used an oiled finger to slip inside her tight anus, to prepare her for his penis invasion of her fresh, young behind.

Now, when he began slipping it between the cheeks, he found it slid smoothly. Grasping her cheeks, he finally stabbed with one good hard thrust.

"Oh, God, you're killing me," she cried in pain. But, her cry didn't deter Brad. If anything, it increased his delight.