Full disclosure. I’m a lazy fucker. I let my man do the cooking and I always offer to do the dishes in return – mainly because we have a dishwasher. So all I have to do is load the thing up. But I always joke that after I’ve loaded the machine I’ll load him, which stops him moaning. Well, it just makes him moan in a different way.
Yes I married a hungry bottom. He’s a few years older than me – wiry, dark skinned with salt and pepper hair, a slightly hairy slim body and a pert ass that’s somehow kept its tightness despite him getting banged by every fat cock he can find on Grindr.
But this isn’t about Carl and his insatiable hole, it’s not even about how he rides my cock at any given chance. His hole just loves to milk my snake dry. We’re pretty open although the well has been dry of late as there’s only so many times you can shag your way round the neighbourhood without getting bored. I was pretty bored the other night when I was loading the dishwasher. We live in a terrace and the back looks on to the back of the houses in the next street. Basically eye to eye contact with whoever’s doing their dishes across the way.
We’re number 61 so I’m guessing the people out the back are a similar number but on the even side. I’m gonna call them number 64. Usually I’ll see a sour-faced single mum stomping about that kitchen, clearly in a bad mood from the way she slams the cupboard doors. She must be a joy to live with. Over the years I’ve seen her son and daughter – a chunky girl and a chunky lad – both in late teens.
The other day I noticed the son is suddenly a young man. Tuft of facial hair, hitting the gym so the chub has turned to solid meat, square jaw, about twice the height of his mother. I’d only caught a glimpse and he’d turned my head. I confessed to Carl, who told me in no uncertain terms he’d noticed too and it was nothing to feel bad about. So I’m going with that! If Carl says it, it’s true – that’s my motto for life!
So the other day disaster struck. The dishwasher broke. We were told it would be days until it was fixed so yours truly was left holding the sponge, and the scrubber, and the Fairy liquid.
“It’s not fair!” I cried at Carl. “I wasn’t born to scrub!”
“I’ll gladly take over if you want to do the fucking cooking,” was his retort and I didn’t need to be told twice. I did decided to make his life a living hell until the dishwasher was fixed though.
It was the first time I’d done the dishes in years – and the first time I’d spent more than two minutes in the kitchen staring directly at the back window of number 64. There she was – mizzo mum looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp as she shouted the odds at someone I couldn’t see. I was giggling, imagining her nagging voice, when he came into view.
Sonny Boy, towering above her, petulant look on his face – and most importantly, he was shirtless. A taut, tight, tanned body, smooth, with pecs on the grow and a natural six pack. I almost drooled. He was only missing a garden hose, a sunny day and a horny housewife (me) offering him a Diet Coke. As he nodded at whatever she was saying, she threw a soapy sponge at him. It hit his chest and the white bubbles trickled down his six pack like he was on an Athena poster from the 90s! As their argument continued, mizzo mum stormed off and left him to do the dishes. Sonny Boy muttered expletives to himself and started splashing about in the water so it soaked his abs even more. I was about to call Carl in to enjoy the view with me but I must say I was enjoying the private show.
He realised he had soaked himself and grabbed a towel to start wiping himself, and then as he brushed one of his succulent brown nipples I could see a visible gasp escape his luscious lips. So his nipples were sensitive! He looked over his shoulder as if checking nobody was there, then started to tweak his nipples repeatedly. His eyes closed as he played with them, and I felt my own nipples harden just watching him. They weren’t the only thing becoming engorged. My cock started to inflate in my pyjama bottoms (yes I had my pyjamas on at six thirty in the evening, so sue me). I reached down and squeezed my cut six inches, feeling the blood pulse through the flesh. I mirrored his action, reaching up and stroking my own nipple through my thin white t-shirt. Just as I felt a shock wave run directly from nipple to my cock he looked up and made direct eye contact! It’s like he’d heard the power of the pulse of electricity my tweaking had caused.
Our eyes locked together for the space of about two seconds and I quickly moved my hand away, looked down at the dishes and laughed when I realised my cock was out of my pants and resting on the sink, the purple head throbbing above the suds of soapy water. I looked up and saw he was still staring at me. The mix of curiosity, surprise and a touch of mocking made me shrink away from the window. I was giddy, completely undone by a lad who couldn’t have been more than 18. How ridiculous! I looked back at him and he just smirked then carried on washing his own dishes like nothing had happened. I got a hold of myself – not literally – and cracked on with the mountain I had to wash, refusing to give in and look up again. When I did finally cave – he was gone!
I felt a flush of excitement I hadn’t had in a while. I knew full well this 18 year old hunk was just teasing for the attention. I’m not exactly a minger but I’m a pretty average man in my late thirties, glasses, balding a bit. I go the gym to keep my belly smaller than it used to be. But I don’t kid myself. To a lad of his age I’m ancient. But I’d watched him rub his soapy nipples for my enjoyment and my cock was not about to forget that. So Carl was surprised when I re-entered our lounge, pyjamas tucked under my low-hanging balls and my rigid tool pointed in his direction.
“I thought you were coming to moan about that dishwasher!” he laughed.
“No, I’m coming to breed your cunt,” I warned him before dragging him from the sofa and whipping his track suit bottoms down to reveal that hairy tight cunt I knew and loved.
I made him pause The One Show, spat on his hairy hole and fucked him hard over the foot-rest, our blinds closed so nobody could see as I squatted behind my husband and drove home a four minute load deep into his innards. I flipped him over and throated his eight inch uncut cock as my own babies leaked from his used cunt on to the rug, scooping it up and eating it whilst he blew his wad all over my glasses.
Afterwards he asked what had brought it on and I told him I’d seen something filthy on my phone. I wanted to keep Sonny Boy to myself. I know that’s bad but sometimes you just have to have your own naughty pleasure.
The next night I was only too quick to do the washing up. My cock tingled with anticipation as I took to the kitchen sink and found he was already there. This time he had a t-shirt on, annoyingly. But it didn’t take long for his eyes to meet mine. He smirked, looking down at his chores as he splashed a ton of water on the t-shirt. I kept my eyes fixed on him as he glanced up at me before reaching down, grabbing the bottom of the t-shirt… and slowly peeling it off! I was slack-jawed as I watched him do a striptease. He threw the t-shirt to the side and carried on with his job. My heart raced, my stomach fluttered, as I considered my next step. I couldn’t… could I? Well… I did. Before I knew it was I was unbuttoning my shirt and slipping out of it. He just smirked, then suddenly ducked out of view.
I was confused until he came back into view holding on to some dishes, and backed away from the sink. He turned to the cupboards to reach up and put the dishes away… and his shorts had been hiked down to reveal the most beautiful smooth bubble butt. Pert, pale against the rest of his tanned body, utterly delicious. As he reached up, he flexed his ass. I was solid as a rock and thought, in for a penny, and pulled out my cock to start stroking it. I slowly backed away from the sink, knowing he’d be able to see more of my body if I did so. He turned around to face the window, his own tool now on display. From where I was standing it looked bigger than mine, girthy, with some neat pubes framing its fleshy length.
I slowly stroked my cock as I stared right at him and he started to do the same. I don’t know what possessed me – I was already acting like a reckless idiot, so I thought nothing of being totally ridiculous as I reached for the nearby rolling pin. I picked it up and held the tip to my mouth, running my tongue along it as I watched him. He laughed, then nodded as he tugged on his prick. I wrapped my entire mouth around the rolling pin – one of my party tricks is that I can fit two massive cocks in my mouth at once – and started to suck on it hungrily. The sheer madness of what I was doing, coupled with the view I had of a muscular lad half my age jerking his cock for me, all made for a heady mix.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
I stopped in horror. I turned to see Carl stood there, agog.
“I ‘er… shit…” I started to laugh. He did the same. He looked over at Sonny Boy in his window, who froze on the spot.
“You’re kidding me!”
“I’m sorry!” I began. “It just happened so I thought I’d go with it!”
“Look at that cock!” Carl almost growled.
He looked down at mine.
“Fuck it let’s give him a show!” he said.
Carl stood beside me and unzipped his jeans, letting his own growing member flop out. Sonny Boy had pulled his shorts up and was about to flee when he saw Carl was now entering the game. He walked away from view.
“Oh. Charming!” Carl joked.
“Fuck him, he clearly has no taste,” I cajoled.
But then Sonny Boy edged back into view, nervously watching us and reaching into his shorts. Carl and I started to wank each other slowly, before falling into a deep passionate kiss. I found myself lost in my husband for a moment, almost forgetting about the dream boy masturbating to our show across the back alley. But Carl didn’t – turning to look directly at the lad as I sucked on his ear and neck. I kissed my way down Carl’s body and engulfed his throbbing cock in my mouth, slurping and sucking noisily as Carl moaned louder than usual, clearly putting on a show.
“He can’t hear you!” I laughed between sucks.
“Shut up and suck you adulterer!” Carl joked.
I giggled and sucked Carl’s wet tip before coming back to my feet, watching the boy stroke his purple bell end, one eye over his shoulder to make sure mezzo Mum didn’t catch him!
“Suck me!” I said.
“I can’t, I don’t want to miss him shooting!”
“Fucksake,” I snapped back as we jerked each other hard and fast for his viewing pleasure.
I then held up my hand and twirled my finger in the air, telling him to turn around. He nodded, and slowly turned to show that ass again.
“Fucking hell!” Carl gasped.
“I know right. I’d tear that apart!”
As if he’d heard me, the boy stepped further from the window to show more of that ass. Then he kicked off his shorts, and suddenly lifted his right foot and planted it on the work top to spread those cheeks and reveal the most delicious smooth tight cunt. Carl and I were squelching with pre cum as we wanked furiously, and it only took for the lad to touch his tacky hole with one finger before we’d reached the sticky point of no return.
In a grunting moaning crescendo my husband and I erupted our loads. Both creamy wads blew at once and shot high, covering the dishes in the sink, splattering the window. Clearly it was too much for Sonny Boy too who quickly turned on his side so he was in profile. His thick tool blew a hot teen wad high in the air as he looked over at us, gasping in pleasure, pretty face contorted, mouth agape.
As we came to our senses, Carl and I looked at each other and erupted again – this time in laughter. Across the way the lad did the same, quickly pulling his shorts back on and grabbing some kitchen roll to clear up his mess.
“So come on,” Carl joked. “How long has this been going on?”
“Two days,” I admitted. “I was going to tell you!”
“Liar!” he laughed. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Who to?”
“The dishwasher repair people,” he told me. “To let them know there’s really no rush to get it fixed!”
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