Written by Mary & Peter

Fiction
2 Aug 2013


Mary – How it all started

It must have been nearly 20 years ago when it started. My youngest had just left on a gap year, 'being an albatross, Mum' prior to going to uni and I was probably suffering from empty nest syndrome. A good friend suggested that I join her with a little part-time work, all that was needed was a driving licence, time and people skills. On that basis I qualified, so I applied, got the job and did an extensive days training. It wasn't a taxing job, occasional work which I could accept or reject, guaranteed hours when I did work and lots of interesting people to meet and work with. I was loving it.

After about 1 year on the job I was waiting for the rest of the team to arrive when a guy turned up. He said his name was Peter.

“Hi, Peter, I'm Mary,” I said, “are you new? I haven't seen you before.”

“Well I was new, about 3 years ago, I guess you have just been lucky,” he said with a easy smile.

Peter is a little older than I, about 4 years! He is no oil painting nor does he have the body of an Olympian but there was, and still is, something that just makes me tingle. On that first meeting I did tingle. As it happened there was an hours delay before it all kicked off so Peter suggested that we all go for a coffee, there were 5 of us by then. Off we all went but the other 3 were very hacked off about the delay, Peter didn't seem at all put out so I asked him why he was so calm. He simply said that life was too short to get stressed out by things over which he had no control.

“I'm not going to be killed by stress!” he said, and when one of the others jokingly asked what he was going to be killed by, he added, “I'm going to be murdered, at the grand old age of 101, by a jealous husband who discovers me in bed with his 18 year old bride, on their wedding night!”, and everybody laughed.

I really don't know what came over me, I said “18? That rules me out then!”

Peter responded in an instant, “Well,” he said, “ I could stretch to 25, I suppose,” and we all laughed again. Only I saw Peter look right at me, and wink. Desultory conversation continued between the 5 of us until we were called back to work.

From that time on, I have not been able to get those first minutes out of my mind. I was like an 18 year old! I worked whenever I was asked, didn't turn any jobs down and even stood in for others when I could. No Peter!

About 3 months later I had a call from the office, a bit of a problem, could I possibly be in the office for 5am the following morning when I would then be driven up to the midlands. I said that I could. I was in the office to collect the paperwork at 4:45am, the driver was waiting, Peter!

“Hi! Peter,” I said as nonchalantly as I could with my heart all aflutter, “Long time no see.” Pull yourself together girl! I told myself, you are not a lovestruck teen any more! Then conceded, well, not a teen anyway.

“Mary! Good to see you again, twice in one year! Must be my lucky charm!” he replied.

We shook hands and I tingled, again.

We set off for the midlands, Peter drove steadily and calmly and we just chatted about anything and everything. It soon felt as if we were old friends, just catching up. The traffic was kind to us and we were near our destination a long way ahead of schedule.

“Did you have time for breakfast, Mary?” Peter asked.

“A cup of coffee! I cannot eat at 4 in the morning.” I replied.

“Me neither, I know a place for a great bacon butty and a mug, if you would like?”

I would like and I did like and I do like. With the food and drink safely in a paper bag Peter drove us a little way up the road to a picnic area, just off the road. It was deserted and we sat at the picnic tables provided and ate, drank and chatted.

We had nearly finished when Peter told me I had some ketchup on my chin, I reached for the paper serviette but Peter beat me to it.

“Allow me, young lady,” he gallantly said, “lean a little closer,”

I leaned a little closer and he said “no, more, closer still,” so I did and he leaned closer, and closer and I kept leaning closer until he licked the ketchup off my chin with his tongue, I leaned even closer and kissed him and used my tongue also. Then we shuffled closer, held each other tight and kissed again, and again and again, just like 18 year olds!

We came up for air and I said “I wish I had picked up more sachets of ketchup!” Peter laughed, rose and with a, “wait there, don't move” he walked back to the car.

He has a stash of ketchup sachets in his car? I asked myself.

He was gone less that 2 minutes, he held his hand out to me and I took it. We wandered off down a path into the woodlands and after a very little while we came to the bank of a stream. Peter produced a fold up picnic rug from under his jacket, plastic on one side and tartan material on the other which he spread on the ground.

He helped me to sit down then sat beside me, fishing in his pocket. “Ta Dahhh!” he said, and with a flourish, pulled out a sachet of tomato ketchup, “where would you like me to lick it from, young lady?”

The devil was in me! For months I had been getting wet knickers just thinking about this man and now I had him all to myself, if only for a little while. I took off my jacket, unbuttoned and removed my blouse then unclipped my bra! Thus divested of unnecessary clothing I laid back and said “anywhere you wish, young man!”

Peter removed his jacket, tie and shirt – tore off the corner of the sachet and squeezed a little ketchup around the nearest nipple then put the part used sachet to one side. He lent forward, caressing the side of my breast with his tongue, working slowly round and around until he reached my, by then, very erect nipple. He licked off the ketchup then took the nipple into his mouth where he sucked it and flicked it with his tongue. I pulled him to me and shuddered with pleasure. Did my husband ever lick and suck my nipples? I didn't recall it and if he did it was never like Peter did that early morning.

We kissed and held each other close, I ran my hands all over his naked torso and he explored my breasts with his mouth and hands. I had dozens of little orgasms, something I had never enjoyed before. His hand moved down across my tummy and I sucked it in to encourage him below my waist band. To make it easier, I undid the zip and lifted my bottom and Peter worked my skirt down and off my feet. I hadn't put my tights on, they were still in my handbag, and now there was only a very damp pair of knickers between Peter's questing fingers and my wet pussy. My legs parted without any conscious instruction from me as Peter's fingers slid beneath the elastic of my panties and down over my mons.

His forefinger just touched the tip of my clitty and the flood gates burst open, I came and shuddered and wriggled and clamped my legs about his hand and held onto him so tight I must have been strangling him. He touched me again and again I jumped, and again, and again. Now I was laughing and he was laughing and we were kissing and cuddling and rolling around the picnic rug. When I had calmed down he started to remove my sodden panties, I lifted my bottom to make it easier for him and when my pussy was fully exposed he knelt and kissed it, making me shake again.

“I think that needs a little ketchup, don't you?” he asked, as he fully removed my panties and put them with his jacket, “I shall have to buy you some new ones when the job is finished, it wouldn't be a good idea to go home in those, methinks!”

I should have felt terrible I know, me, a married woman for over 20 years, laying naked in a wood and a man I hardly knew kissing my pussy, but I didn't. I felt fantastic!

“Open!” said Peter, and without a moments hesitation I parted my legs as far as they would go.

“And open, again,” he said. And I reached down to the top of my legs, with both hands, placed one hand each side of my pussy lips and moved my hands apart exposing my wet, swollen pussy for him. I have never parted my pussy lips for anybody! Not even myself, in the bath. I always used a flannel! Even tampons were jiggled around until they went in! Now, here I was happily, nay, eagerly parting my pussy lips. Oh, it felt sooo very good being naughty.

Peter dribbled little drops of ketchup onto the hood of my clitty then let it drip onto the edges of my parted lips. He put the nearly empty sachet down and rubbed the ketchup gently and tenderly into my pussy paying particular attention around and on my clitty hood. He licked his fingers and bent down to lick me clean.

I felt his soft whiskered cheeks against my inner thighs and he looked up at me over the top of his glasses. “Are you sure?” he said. And I told him I was very sure and that I definitely could not go home with a ketchup flavoured pussy, so having made it all sticky it was up to him to clean it up! I smiled broadly just in case he thought I was serious.

He licked, he sucked, he moved his tongue all over my pussy exploring and pleasing with every touch. I lost count of how many fleeting but intense, orgasms I enjoyed. I was totally lost in the pleasure Peter was giving me. It was sometime before I even realised that I was holding his head hard up against my pussy and thrusting my hips up to him in an attempt to get more of him into me. Then he started to use his fingers and thumb.

My husband had never used his fingers to please me much less his mouth and tongue and once Peter's fingers were added to my pleasure I was totally lost, my body was out of control as spasm after spasm rolled through it. I held Peter's head like a drowning man would cling to a raft. It was hard to catch my breath as I came with noisy moans and loud shrieks of delight. Once I had stopped bucking like a cowboy's bronco Peter stopped and allowed me to rest, with just the gentle flick of his tongue across the hood of my very sensitive clitty. Eventually I had to beg him to stop! He buried his head between my legs and licked and sucked and kissed every little place while I moaned with pleasure whilst half heartedly trying to prevent his latest onslaught. I stopped struggling, I was too exhausted, and Peter stopped licking and kissing and sucking. I really wasn't sure if I was pleased or not!

We cuddled up and he put his jacket over me, only covering the top, of course, but his hands were easily able to get at my breasts, thankfully.

After about 5 minutes I had recovered enough to go exploring on my own and my hand crept down over his belly to the waist of his trousers, I fumbled with his belt, he didn't help, I undid the button and eased the zip down. I could feel his cock against my hand as I slipped the zip all the way. I placed my hand on the waist of his pants and, like me, he held his tummy in. My fingers probed beneath the soft material. They felt a nice warm cock with a wetness on the end.

This was all new ground for me, my husband, when he wanted sex, just opened my legs, got between, held his cock in his hand and guided it into me. Then he 'made love' until he shot his load, rolled over and went to sleep. I had small orgasms on the way and that was it! I knew no better! I had never, until this point, touched a cock, except my son's when he was a baby, and that definitely did not count!

Now I had a cock to play with, I knew what I wanted to do, give Peter as much pleasure as he had given me, more if at all possible, It would have to be trial and error.

Lift! I told him and he lifted his bum off the rug. I worked his trousers and pants down his legs and off, taking his shoes with them. Now he was naked, except for his socks, and I used my mouth and fingers to work back to his cock. His legs parted, much as mine had done, subconsciously, and I stroked the inside of his thigh and nibbled the soft skin. I felt his cock against my cheek and gave a little shudder of pleasure, turning my head to kiss his balls then nibble up the length of his cock to the very head. Now it was nice and firm and thrusting from under his foreskin, all shiny and wet. I put my upper lip over the tip and lifted my head back a little, his cock stood up for me. I opened my mouth and just let it slide inside. I had heard of women putting a man's cock in their mouth but had no idea why they should even consider it. Now I did, it felt so wonderful! Peter had used his mouth and fingers and in the last 15 minutes or so had taken me to pleasures that my husband, had never taken me to in 20 years of marriage. Now I wanted to return the pleasure.

I put my lips over my teeth so that I didn't hurt him and let the cock slide in as far as I could. I heard Peter sigh and knew that at least what I was doing wasn't unpleasant. I moved up and down his cock, feeling it get firmer with each stroke of my lips. I took it in my hand and licked and sucked on the helmet whilst stroking gently before sliding it back into my mouth. Peter was now responding much as I did when he was using his mouth and fingers for my pleasure. I felt his hands resting on my hair, not pushing on my head as I had done on his to make sure he didn't stop. His were just resting, hardly touching my head at all, they moved up and down with my movements as if connected by a string. He started to move a little, as I had done and I knew that his pleasure was building, he twitched, then apologised, afraid that I had been offended or hurt by his sudden movements. I told him not to worry and to enjoy it. He said that if I carried on as I was he would cum. I carried on, a little faster. He then said that if I didn't move my mouth out of the way he was afraid that he would cum in my mouth. I increased my efforts, making sure my mouth never left his cock while stroking his cock with my hand harder and faster. He began to pant, his legs started to move as if out of control then he moaned, murmured 'last chance to move' he held his breath, waited, went totally still then started to jerk. I felt his sperm moving past my hand as his cock throbbed and I pushed my mouth down his cock as far as it would go. Peter's sperm pumped into my mouth. I kept stroking and sucking and he came in my mouth again and again and again. Four big pumps of sperm. When he had stopped jerking and thrashing about I kept his cock in my mouth, just as he had with me until he was totally spent. I still had much of his sperm in my mouth when I took his cock out of my mouth and looked at him. I smiled, opened my mouth to show him, then swallowed, licking my lips. I said that I hoped that he had enjoyed it as much as I had.

He held his arms out and told me to come close and snuggle up, that it had been wonderful and probably the best he had ever experienced. After a short rest we got dressed, helping each other, and wandered back to the car. There was another car in the car park, a man was sitting at the wheel smoking a cigarette. As we approached he wound his window down and said 'would you be very offended if I said that you look beautiful, naked?'

If anybody had said that to me the day before I would have wished only that the ground would open up and swallow me and gone bright crimson with embarrassment. On that day I didn't even have the decency to colour, even a little, I just smiled sweetly and said 'No, not at all, thank you.'

I'm sorry I have gone on so long. That wasn't the end, if you have the patience for more please let me know.

Love Mary


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