Still, worse things happen at sea. I was getting sucked off by a gorgeous busty married woman, whose goal in life right now was to make me come. I couldn’t really complain.Eventually the inevitable occurred, and I pulled my cock out of her warm sexy mouth, and shot my load over her big tits. She attempted to clean herself up with a tissue. I asked whether her husband would suspect anything when she went home.“Well…" she said, giggling. But she made no attempt to explain. I just shrugged it off, and got dressed.I drove her home as before, and waited at the end of her street while she walked back to her house so it looked to her husband she was coming from the train station. Once she was safe inside I speed off. She had said she was looking forward to seeing me again soon when we said our goodbyes, giving me a quick kiss and a feel of the slowly returning bulge in my jeans.Driving home, I did feel a bit disappointed again that I hadn’t got to fuck her this time. I wondered what she was. ‘Just wondered if it tastes any different this way.’ ‘Does it?’ I ask. ‘Yes.’ was all he replied. Conversation from that point on covered everything. I found it amusing when I still saw flickers of the boy I had known as he spoke of his adventures as a man. My mind drifted back over our adventures and I was aware that certain places were becoming very warm and the tension was drifting away. By the time we finished our meal I was relaxed and ready for fun. Not ready to end our night, he suggested we go to a favorite place of his and have a few drinks and dance. The chance to pull him close was too good to pass up. The loud rock and roll in the lounge and the top shelf whiskey was all I needed. I’d heard that dancing is the vertical suggestion of the horizontal position. If that was true, god he was good! When they played the first slow dance I tried to beg out of it but he pulled me close, fire ran through me and my heart began to race. I slipped my hand under his coat and felt his.
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