A Stroke of Good Fortune

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The Amazon guy had been gone in a flash, dumping the neighbour’s parcel in my hands and running off to his truck. I checked the label and saw it was for Mrs Fortune, the stunning blonde who lived opposite. A few hours passed, and it was now a gloriously sunny afternoon. I fancied a walk in the sun, so why not take the parcel over to her house and see if she was in.

I rang the door bell; no answer. Hmmm. I didn’t feel like carrying a parcel around with me, so I took the side gate into their back garden. I’d leave it in a safe place and drop them a note. As I stepped into the beautifully manicured garden I stopped, stared and very nearly dropped the parcel. Stretched out before me on a luxurious wooden sun lounger was Mrs Fortune, stark naked bar a pair of stylish flip-flops, a chilled glass of white wine in her hand. She raised her glass and smiled.

“Hi Matt! Is that for me? I must have missed the delivery man.”

Her long blonde hair trailed over the side of the lounger, her legs seemed endless, lithe, supple. This reclining Venus beckoned me over.

“Come on, don’t be shy, you’ve seen a woman naked before surely,” she teased, patting the seat of the lounger next to hers. Her confidence was infectious, so I did as I was bidden, trying to keep my eyes on her face, fighting the magnetic attraction of her firm, sensuous breasts.

“Join me in some wine,” she asked, tilting her head, smiling. “If I drink the whole bottle I’ll only do something I regret later.”

“Thanks Mrs F,” I said, taking a spare glass and taking a sip, the cold, refreshing hit going straight to my head.

“One condition Matt,” she purred, “you’d better strip off too, it’s far too warm for clothes.”

My mind raced. The heat of the sun, the wine, and the lure of this stunning siren buzzed in my head. Surely this was wrong, what about her husband? Clearly cock won over brain, as the next thing I knew, I was naked on a sun lounger, wine in hand, chatting to my naked neighbour. Even though I tried to disguise it, she knew I was checking her out, furtive glances at her nipples, firm in the breeze. I tried sneaking a peek between her legs; was she trimmed? shaven? I had to know.

I gave up trying to pretend not to look, she was clearly loving the attention. My eyes were mesmerised by her perfect breasts. Soft, large and firm and clearly natural. When she threw back her head and giggled, they jiggled softly, sensuously. Her nipples were proud points set in large pink disks. Every so often she would press the cold wine glass to her chest to keep them in peak condition, teasing me with a wink. I was desperately trying to keep my cock from getting out of control; thinking of dull things in order to keep myself down to a thick semi.

Mrs Fortune took a big sip of her wine, put own the glass and stretched, purring like a kitten. Arms up behind her head, she gratuitously spread her legs, drawing her feet up to her pert ass. Like a powerful magnetic force, my eyes were drawn downwards, tearing themselves away from the soft perfection of her breasts, down between her legs.

“Shaven then!” I thought to myself, though she must have either waxed or lasered to get her pussy that smooth all over. Her lips were already slick and wet, making me dangerously aroused. I forced the cold wine glass on my now burgeoning cock in an attempt to suppress my stiffening shaft. I had to do something, what could be safer? I gazed down at her feet, red nail polish glinting on her toes. That çağlayan escort had to be safe, compliment her on her makeup.

“Those are great nails Mrs F,” I blurted out, “Looks expensive, is it Chanel or something?”

“Why thank you Matt,” she said with a smile, stretching her elegant feet out straight, moving them from side to side, showing off her handiwork. The sun dazzled on a shiny silver toe ring, its glare combined with her rippling toes were quite mesmeric.

She rested her head on her hand, leaning towards me, smiling.

“I can do tricks with my toes, they’re almost as good as fingers with me. Want to see?”

She gracefully slipped off one flip-flop letting it hang on her big toe, before letting it drop to the grass. Deftly her toes gripped the other flip-flop, easing it off gently before releasing it with a flourish. She moved each toe in turn, like a pianist flexing their fingers before a concert.

“That’s some serious control you’ve got there Mrs F.” I was frankly amazed. “I bet you could probably type using your feet!”

Pivoting on her firm pert ass, she swung her legs round, resting her feet on my sun lounger. “That’s not all they do, Matt,” she whispered seductively, stroking her toes along my thigh, toes crawling towards my crotch. Before I knew it, her feet were softly massaging my cock. Staring at her expert foot work, I saw I was almost fully hard, and my smooth shaven balls were pulsing. Her delicate toes had pulled back my foreskin and my cock was laid bare before her, a river of precum streaming down my shaft. I watched transfixed as her feet massaged me, rubbing my natural lube into my shaft, squeezing, teasing most definitely pleasing.

“Holy fuck Mrs F!” I blurted out, “that’s amazing, I’ve not even had a hand job that good.”

She put a finger to her lips, “Shhh Matt, didn’t you know I’m the foot job queen?”

I gulped some wine and lay back, my eyes fixed on her toes dancing over my cock, playing me like a musical instrument. If my cock started to twitch, she would squeeze my throbbing purple helmet between her big toes, keeping me hovering on the edge of ecstasy. I lost track of how many times she brought me close, all I could do was moan gently and let it wash over me, a rolling tide of pleasures.

“Now let me show you my other skills,” she smiled, moving over to my lounger, making her way up between my legs like a prowling panther. Her hand gripped my cock hard at the base of my shaft while her mouth went to work on my smooth throbbing balls. Her tongue traced figures of eight over my balls, the hot wetness of her tongue sending a shiver through my body. Her lips kissed my scrotum then sucked and pulled, stretching me out.

“Jesus fuck, Mrs F, your mouth is even better than your feet,” I moaned.

“Let me show you what my tits can do first,” was her sultry reply. Sliding forward she massaged the head of my cock over one hard, tempting nipple and then the other. Sticky precum glistened on her breasts as she stroked my cock over her cavernous cleavage, painting herself with my natural lube.

She looked me full in the eye, licked her lips and held her breasts tight against my cock. They felt so soft, so warm as they massaged my now rock hard shaft, her hands kneading them over me. As her breasts caressed me, she flicked her hair forward, letting it trail across my chest. She gently freed her breasts, giving me one last rub, before çapa escort returning my cock to her willing mouth.

She popped one ball fully into her mouth, rolling her tongue over it, sucking, pulling, teasing. As she swapped to the other one, her hand started stroking my cock. A firm grip at the base, loosening as her her hand twisted on the upstroke, fingers closing over my bulging head, gathering up my precum, ready for the next stroke. Her tongue started working its way up my shaft, running over the veins that pulsed under her touch.

“Mmmm, I love the taste of your precum,” she purred, rolling her tongue under the ridge of my helmet, looking me full in the eye.

Hand tight around my shaft, her lips bobbed over my head, slurping and sucking, inhaling my precum as it gushed from my slit.

“Oh fuck Mrs F, you’re good, don’t stop.”

With that, she took me full in her mouth, eyes locked on mine, lips sliding down my shaft with no hesitation. Her eyes were wide, deep blue pools I could dive into. Mrs Fortune’s lips touched my balls as I filled her throat. She held me deep for a long lingering moment, before releasing me from her mouth. A long rope of spit and precum hung from my tip, which she wrapped around her tongue, swirling it, revelling in the taste and the texture.

Again she deep throated me, elegantly, confidently, holding me deep just before her gag point. All I could do was moan her name, and watch her give me a blow job master class, helpless in her hands, a slave to her mouth. She slowly kissed down my shaft, smiled and said

“Want to fuck me in my tight pussy? It’s so wet for you right now.”

What man could resist an offer like that, let alone one with a raging hard cock. She had straddled the lounger doggy style, face down, ass proud. One hand was dipping fingers into her swollen, shaven pussy, the sunlight reflecting on her glistening lips. She rolled her fingers in her juice then rubbed it over her hard clit, circling a fingertip over it. Her fingers dipped back into the dripping well of her pussy, returning to her clit, lubing and rubbing as I stood behind her, cock bulging.

Placing her face flat on the lounger, she reached both hands round to her ass cheeks, pulling them apart as she wiggled her butt.

“Fuck me Matt, fuck my sweet little pussy,” she demanded.

No second invitation needed, I stepped forward, one had placed firmly on her back, the other holding my cock, rubbing the tip between her moist lips, sliding down to her hot wet hole. My fingers wrapped themselves in her long blonde tresses and I pulled her by the hair onto my cock. Her pussy lips yielded, pushing back onto me and my head slipped in.

“Mmmm Mrs F, you’re so tight. Go on, take my cock,” I growled, easing my shaft slowly into her pussy, pulling her hair and grabbing her hip. My free hand slapped her ass cheek, leaving a pink imprint as she yelped. As I filled her inch by inch, I slapped her ass, the sharp sound echoing in her garden. Fully buried in her tight wet pussy, I started to thrust, each push in accompanied by a pull of her hair and a sharp slap on her ass.

Just then I heard a sound and looked up, to see the French doors slide open, and her husband step out into the garden. The sound of my last slap hung in the air as I stopped mid-thrust, frozen.

“It’s Matt isn’t it?” said Mr Fortune, breaking out into a broad smile. “I see my wife has been making you cennet mahallesi escort feel at home. Good work my dear. If you two could just give me a moment.”

With that, he took his phone out of his pocket, placed it carefully on the free sun lounger, and proceeded to undress. His cock was long and veiny and already close to fully hard, stretching out from a dense bush of tightly curled pubes. Picking up his phone, he took pictures of me balls deep in his wife’s pussy.

“That’s one for our special album,” he said with a smile. “Don’t let me stop you, carry on and let me enjoy the show”.

He sat down, open legged, one hand holding the camera, the other stroking his now fully erect cock. I gave her ass a big slap, to let her know we were back in business, and started moving my hips, forcing my cock deep into her smooth wet pussy.

I was so turned on. The additional thrill of an audience made me push deeper, pull her hair harder. I could see her husband responding, stroking his huge cock faster as I roughly took his wife before him.

Mrs Fortune started to moan, a low hum of pleasure as her ass glowed red in the sunshine. She ground her ass on me, forcing me deep into her tight hole. I picked up speed, pushing in faster, building a rhythm of pull, slap, thrust.

“Flip her over Matt, I want some pictures of your cock fucking her pussy,” gasped her husband, his engorged cock thick in his hand.

Happy to oblige, she slipped off my cock and rolled over onto her back. I grabbed her thighs just behind the knee and pushed her legs back onto her chest, spreading her wide open. My cock plunged into her silken depths, hungry to return to her tight, warm embrace. The green blanket beneath us rucked and twisted as we fucked harder and deeper, building towards the inevitable explosive climax.

“Mmm fuck me Matt, make me your slut,” she groaned, her breasts swinging as I pounded away on her pussy, balls slapping on her ass. “Give me your cum!”

“Hold tight honey, I want to film your cum face in slo mo,” said Mr Fortune.

He stood up, holding the phone steady in both hands as he filmed a close up of his wife’s face. Precum streamed from his cock, dancing in the breeze like a gossamer rope.

“Mmmm, uuh, uuhhh, ooooh, Matt, give me your cum, ooohh, fuck, fuck! FUCKKKK!”

Mr Fortune was in close, capturing every detail of her orgasm, her wide open mouth, her rolled back eyes, and her yells and moans. I was past the point of no return; my balls had to unleash, the desire to cum was overwhelming. Mr Fortune was now furiously stroking his cock, his swollen helmet hovering just in front of her face.

“Do it on my feet Matt,” whimpered Mrs Fortune, “glaze my toes with your yummy cum.”

“Uhh, uhhh. Oh God, Fuck! I’m gonna blow. Fuck. Yes! Yes!”

I finished with a loud roar, chest tight, back arched as I pulled out, holding her feet with one hand, jerking my cock furiously with the other. I shot my hot sticky ropes of cum over her feet, white streams running between her toes. My body spasmed, still stroking, pumping, a second wave splattering on her sole which she rubbed into her other foot, moaning and smiling. My moans were joined by her husband’s as he sprayed his load into her open mouth, jerking his cock so he painted her face, glazing her with his cum.

Exhausted, I sat on the grass, panting as the pair of them cuddled up together. He stroked her hair as her tongue licked up the cum from her lips. His finger scooped up cum from her cheeks, and gently fed it to her, slowly cleaning up her face, her mouth hungry for his taste. When he was finished, they kissed, deep and passionately. His arm round her shoulder, he turned to me.

“Thanks Matt, that was a good show. I’ve got some beers in the fridge, I think you deserve one after that.”

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