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Chapter 4: Mail Order
On that difficult Monday night at the beginning of November Mary let it slip that the following Saturday was her birthday. I asked her what she wanted for her present but she wouldn’t say. Mary was like that. She was afraid that I would think of her as a sponger. I earned a lot more than she did and her inferiority complex had flared up again. Respect was important to her. But there were now issues between us in that respect.
The path of true love had not run smoothly. Does it ever? I duly raced my Lancia at Silverstone the Sunday after our last tryst. That was the good bit. I felt on top of the world. Perhaps the optimism she had given me helped or perhaps it was the rain which always suits my car. Anyway I won my class and Ritchie Jackson didn’t finish; a result that gave me an outside chance of winning my class in the Road Sports Championship. Faced with a choice I cancelled a half promised visit to Mary and entered the final round.
I should have known better. It took place the following Sunday at Snetterton. I would have had to beat Jackson to take the title. But I have never won there and the long straights favour his Lotus Elan more than my Lancia. I did ask Mary if she wanted to come but she declined. I don’t blame her. An old airfield on the flatlands of Norfolk is bleak at the end of October even if you love motor racing.
Jackson had problems in practice and started at the back. But he wanted the title badly. He sliced through the field and by lap 8 was on my tail. I made a mistake through the Bomb Hole and he got a run down my inside into Coram. But then he locked up and forced me wide as I tried to avoid a collision. I put a wheel on wet grass on the outside and got sideways. As I came back on to the track I clipped the back of his car as he went through. We both lost control and crashed heavily into the tyre wall.
It was a hefty shunt. I was knocked out briefly and sustained concussion and whiplash. The marshals did a great job but I was detained in Norwich hospital overnight for observation. Of course I missed my promised online rendezvous with Mary. Naturally she thought the worst and assumed I had fallen for a pit doll. I tried to explain to her that these creatures infest the Monaco Grand Prix not a winter club meeting. She wasn’t convinced. So I didn’t get much sympathy when I explained the hole in my bank balance and even less when I told how many hours burning the midnight oil it would take to rebuild my car.
Worse was to follow. I couldn’t meet her the following weekend either. I was still stiff and sore with my neck in a brace. But that wouldn’t have deterred me. I was aching for the comfort of her ample breasts and thighs. What did was the opening of our new shop in Southampton. We had secured a prime site in the new waterfront development and it was a glitzy do I couldn’t miss.
I admit that I chose the Premiership footballer who cut the ribbon. But that was before his cocaine snorting became infamous. When the tabloids splashed the story we couldn’t get out of the contract. In any case some of my fellow directors believe in the old adage that any publicity is good publicity. We certainly got a spread. Inevitably the bimbos and wannabe models that frequent these things were there in force. My presence in the same photos was noted in Derbyshire. Not by Mary herself but by a jealous workmate which made matters worse.
Nevertheless she came online on the Monday night which is surely the worst way ever invented to have a row.
Afterwards lying in bed unable to sleep and dreaming of her seductive panties and welcoming pussy I decided to take çubuk escort the following weekend off in lieu and go to visit her. Then I thought why not make it a surprise.
When I knocked on her door I was unusually nervous. “What if she was out?” But I needn’t have worried. She was amazed and delighted to see me; the relief that it wasn’t over etched on her face. We shared an exploratory, get to know you again, kiss before we even left her kitchen. She hadn’t dressed for an occasion and was wearing an ordinary crimson blouse and denim skirt. But her hair was freshly washed, soft and smelt of the apple shampoo she used. I played with little ringlets as she read her birthday card and made coffee. She seemed to catch the romantic mood I wanted.
Once on the sofa her big breast quickly found its way into my hand. I squeezed affectionately and she glanced down at her own cleavage. The look in her eyes told me she was remembering the last time with mounting excitement. It was too soon but I laid her down on the sofa and popped the top button. Nuzzling her valley drove her crazy and she began to squirm with pent up need.
Then the doorbell rang. I had almost forgotten my surprise! I jumped up to answer the door. When I looked back I was in time to see her frantically covering up her black lace briefs.
“This is for you”, I said as I brought the Littlewoods mail order parcel in. She looked bewildered then realised that it really was addressed to her and started to tear at the paper.
“Not yet, Mary, we are going away. Save it for tonight”.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
She found out when the receptionist at the Plough gave us the key. It was a real olde worlde place with thick black oak beams and antique brasses on the walls as we went up the steep stairs. The room was small but warm and cosy with a dormer window and a big old fashioned oak bed piled with fluffy quilts and pillows, fruit and flowers on the table, a mini bar and a luxurious bathroom. It was just what I had asked for, intimate and pampering; perfect to make her feel special.
We were both starving and luckily the restaurant was all it claimed to be in the internet brochure. A secluded alcove, candles, wine and fabulous cooking gave us a chance to make up and Mary a birthday dinner to remember. Desert was still to come in the privacy of our room.
I had to prompt her to open her present. When she did and shook out the contents her face was a picture of curiosity, excitement and embarrassment. “Go on into the bathroom and try it on” I told her.
It was even more revealing than I had imagined from the catalogue. She spun around like a nervous, teenage model and caught sight of herself in the mirror. “Steve, it shows everything” she gasped blushing and looking at the open curtains. “I’d better put something on before the neighbours see.” “You don’t need anything else Mary”, I told her softly. “There are no neighbours here. Come here and let me look at you in the moon light. I’m going to remind you how beautiful you are.”
“Your skin is so creamy tonight; like a young girl’s. Lie down on your face.” I told her. She did and I massaged her shoulders gently easing away the knots of tense embarrassment.
When she had had enough she sat up. “Oh my God, your breasts”, I murmured. The red chiffon covered but didn’t hide them and I could see their pinkness underneath. The pattern of little leaves and flowers on the negligee added an element of mystery. I tweaked the material with my finger tip to get a better view of her nipple. It was dusky rose and rock hard. “Suck me”, she begged.
Obediently demetevler escort I did, then circled her cuticle in tiny kisses until she realised my need was getting urgent. She stood up and gently pulled me up too. She slowly undressed me praising and flattering despite the still visible bruises from my Snetterton crash.
Finally I had only my socks on. To have those taken off I lay on the floor and kicked my legs up for her. It only took seconds and she thought I was ready. To my amusement she also thought I preferred the hard floor to the comfy bed for a fuck. No way! But I wanted a worm’s eye view for my turn to explore.
I had never praised her feet. In fact I had never really looked at them but I wanted her to know that I was falling in love with all of her. I picked up her left foot and put it on my belly. Like everything about her it was substantial. The sole was hard; not surprisingly as she had to walk to work every day. But one of the things I liked about Mary was the way she looked after herself. The top of her foot was spotless and soft with pretty, pink varnished nails. Following my instincts I did something I have never done before, kissed her foot then moved it down and tickled her toes with my hard cock tip. She giggled and swayed drawing my eyes upwards.
I turned my attention to her thighs. The negligee barely came below her crotch and was split at the side up to her waist. I explored with my finger tips at first with little circular motions, very slowly moving upwards. Yes there was some cellulite but I no longer found it ugly. It was part of her. Anyway there were compensations. The flesh was yielding and her skin was warm, soft and frankly sexy.
All this time she was looking down at my cock. It didn’t disappoint her pointing straight as an arrow at the target in her panties, glands standing out and its tip protruding beyond my foreskin, purple with waiting semen. The lust in her eyes was something to behold and I caught my breath as a drip trickled down the inside of her thigh to my waiting finger.
“You’re made for red panties, Mary”, I told her. The negligee came with a matching pair, tiny and sheer. I stood up slowly tracing my cock tip up the slit at the side of her nightie. It found the elastic, which I flicked outwards, and thrust its way underneath. Slowly I moved round her body easing the tight elastic away from her belly with my cock. This pulled the chiffon tight between her pussy lips and made her giggle.
She tumbled back onto the bottom of the bed spread wide. I lifted her legs and knelt between her thighs before pulling her on to me, resting her legs on my shoulders to lift her. I stroked her thigh tops with my finger tips playing with her pantie elastic and pushed my tongue against her forcing the flimsy fabric further into her camel toe. She couldn’t wait any longer and soaked them with a cry of ecstasy.
She recoiled and tried to get up, shocked at what she had done to my expensive gift.
“It’s not dirty, Mary” I reassured her. “It’s natural and you taste so good. I hooked her legs back over my shoulders, pushed her panties aside and really munched her big, fleshy fanny lips until she was writhing and moaning with desire. Finally I slid the drenched panties slowly along her thighs and calves.
“Oh Steve, take me…… now. Please!” she pleaded, her breathing coming in little gasps.
I lifted her legs vertical to escape, turned and dived backwards onto the bed. I finished up lying along it, my head propped on the luxury pillows and Mary standing over me. She realised what I meant to do and protested “No, Steve. ankara escort I’m too heavy.”
“You’re not and I’m strong as steel,” I told her and let her feel how hard I really was.
Her cum slippery thighs straddling me felt beautiful and I slid down a couple of inches between them until my cock found the top of her pussy. I curled it round her mound until I found the opening and thrust like a slingshot straight up and inside. I took her, half way, teasing her clit, feeling the spasms of her fanny muscles and reaching under her nightie to feel those luscious tits thrusting between my cupping fingers. I have never needed to cum so badly and restraining myself was torture.
She realised I was holding back and simply said “It’s OK, Paul. I’m safe today.”
I buried the length of my shaft inside her. The feeling of my balls rubbing on her lubricated mound was incredible and I fired, spurt after spurt. With each glob she leaned forward and clutched my chest, threw her head back and moaned clamping my cock with her fanny muscles, trying to draw out every last drop. Heaven!
Later as we kissed and cuddled she confessed, “I love you, Steve. Why ever didn’t I do that before? It’s so much better bare.”
I was tempted to utter the fateful words, “I love you, Mary”. But they are the hardest words to unsay if it all goes wrong later. So I bit my tongue.
She didn’t push me and settled for possession finally drifting off to sleep with her head pillowed on my chest and my arm round her shoulders.
We had never got round to drawing the curtains. When the sunrise woke me she was still fast asleep. She was lying on her back, a serene expression on her face, the quilt thrown back exposing her negligee high up under her breasts, her legs apart, pussy bare and gloriously inviting once more.
I didn’t wake her but got up and ran the bath, leaving the door open. The splashing water was meant to rouse her. By the time she shyly looked round the door the big, white, oval bath was half full and thick with Jasmine scented bubbles. “Come on pet. There’s room for two,” I said and made a playful grab for her.
She got in and sat cross legged with her knees drawn up, her fabulous breasts resting lightly on her thighs, her pussy mysterious under the bubbles. I sat on the corner of the bath with my feet in the water and slowly, lovingly, luxuriously washed every inch of her. At first she tensed and I guessed it was the first time she had been washed by a man. But she soon relaxed and lay back, eyes closed while I made snowballs out of the bubbles and placed them on her tits. I could feel them getting really horny.
So was I especially when she asked hesitantly if we could change places. I agreed of course. Her hands were amazing, strong but tender as she massaged my fading bruises with the soap. Meanwhile her legs were closed but I couldn’t take my eyes off the view between her melons. By the time she washed my cock, moving her hands up from my balls, stretching and hardening me I just had to get inside.
I got out of the tub but there was no time to get dried. I just laid my cock up the entrance to her cleavage as she sat on the edge of the bath. She pulled her own tits like opening double doors and my cock sank gratefully inside her valley before she closed her breasts over it again. We played for a minute enjoying each other’s slipperiness until I couldn’t restrain myself and covered her boobs in cum.
She stood up grinning like a Cheshire cat and even tasted some of the cream before I unhooked the shower head and rinsed us both off. She popped a pill in her mouth before we headed back to the bed to complete the consummation of our love making.
Trust had been rebuilt. But it was only halfway home that I realised that subconsciously I was assuming that it mattered so that we could spend many more winter evenings together enjoying the rest of her presents. “Well bring it on,” I thought.
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32