A British Invasion
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Authors Note: Between April 2008 and May 2008, I submitted a total of five stories under the name tantric_explosion.
I no longer remember the email address I used for my Lit membership, for that author name. I found the final drafts of each story and with permission from Literotica, I am resubmitting the stories, under my long time name – The Style Guy
Vermont summer, 2002
Sandra was an upper middle class Londoner. Around her family and friends, she was prim and proper. However, while on her hands and knees, with her ass high, legs spread, and my dick pounding deep into her married cunt, she sounded more like a five dollar whore.
“Oh fuck . . . oh fuck . . . more . . . yes . . . OOOHHHHH fuuuuuuuuuck! I’m cummmmming agggggain.”
I was kneeling behind her with my hands clawing into her slim, mature hips. Her round ass shook every time I bottomed out in her tight, wet, pussy. One hand rubbed her throbbing pink clit, while her other massaged my swinging balls. Sandra’s head and shoulders were buried against the mattress. Her blonde/gray shoulder length hair covered her head like a pup tent.
“Me too, Sandra. I’m getting close. Where do you want it?”
“YYYYeeessss,” she gasped. “My mouth . . . my mouth . . . cum in my moooouuuuttthhhh.”
She groaned as I pulled from her twat and she turned around. As her open, red lip-stick covered mouth approached the head of my cock, I let go of my rod a bit too early. The first shot exploded from my dick and sprayed across her cute nose and flushed cheek.
Sandra tried to pull away, but I already had a hand wrapped in her hair. I pulled her to my cock head and wedged it between her full lips. She swallowed the next jet of warm seed and seemed to give up control as I fucked her hungry mouth. Spit, drool and cum, streamed from the corners of her mouth and dripped over her breasts, as I pistoned in and out.
After swallowing most of my cum, she lay back in the bed. I admired that she was confident enough in herself and her sexuality, to leave the splotch of cum on her face.
Her grayish-blonde hair was a mess, cum caked her cheek and her small nipples were red and swollen. The mature Brit’s slim legs were spread; the light colored landing strip was wet and matted. Her pussy lips were red, wet and open. Sperm from my first load, trickled out, mixed with her pussy juice.
Sandra reached for my wet, semi-hard dick and stroked it. With a gleam in her slutty eyes, she said, “I’ll give you a bit, to recharge. Then I want your third load up my ass.”
Sandra was one of my most memorable partners and almost as slutty as her married daughter, Carol.
I’m Christopher. I’m an average professional working guy and lucked into a great career. I buy lumber on the commodities market, for a small group of customers. The best part about my job is I can do it anywhere; as long as I have internet access and a cell phone I can make a living.
For parts of every year, I choose Vermont.
If you ever want to know what heaven will look like, take a ride up route 100, north of Ludlow, Vermont. My cottage is on one of the many lakes that dot the scenic state highway. The Green Mountains surround the small lake. All you can see is the lake, trees and sky.
Ludlow has earned the reputation as a four season town. The town has skiing in the winter and golf, biking and hiking the rest of the year. Although it’s a half hour drive from the nearest interstate, the town is packed with a wide variety of restaurants, bars and entertainment. I’d never call it home, but I do enjoy it for a few months at a time.
There are two houses in Phantom Cove, a small portion of a much bigger lake. My home is one hundred feet from Paul Mason’s. Paul is an eccentric artist. He’s struggled for most of his career and as his “art” is crap, it’s not surprising. What is surprising . . . no shocking, is that a New York City gallery agreed to show his work.
He told me he had rented an apartment in Soho for the summer. In turn, he was renting out his lake front home.
The first family arrived at Paul’s home in mid-June. They were from London. Michael, the husband, explained to me over a glass of local Merlot that they were on a month long eastern USA vacation. They had arrived a week earlier and spent the week on Cape Cod. The second week is in Vermont. They next traveled to Washington, DC and end their vacation in Orlando.
It was his understanding that Paul’s home would be rented by a series of English families. Michael was right. Over the next month a new family arrived every Sunday. Mom, Dad and two point three kids.
One Monday morning in the middle of July, I woke to my 5am alarm. I’m a creature of habit. I dressed in workout clothes and jogged three miles into town. Ludlow has a small gym in an old mill. I lifted weights and stretched for sixty minutes and practiced karate katas for another thirty and then I jogged home.
At home, I grabbed a cup of coffee, powered up my computer and reviewed the over-night financial istanbul escort markets, the news and my customer’s timber needs. I checked on current stockpiles and finally placed my buy and sell orders.
Shortly before the 10am market open, I filled a carafe with coffee, took my mug and computer and headed to my dock. On the way, I grabbed an extension cord and let it unwind while I walked.
As the market opened, I was sitting in the middle of heaven. I was on a reclining beach chair, surrounded by water and mountains, while sipping a strong cup of java. My computer was on my lap and I intently studied every trade for the first hour.
Everything was normal.
At 11am, I stood out of the chair, kicked off my sandals and pulled my tee shirt over my head. I pulled an emergency inflatable life vest over my head and secured it to my waist; I dove into the lake and started an easy swim to Lookout Point, a half mile away.
The swim is the highlight of my day and takes fifty minutes round trip, to complete.
Back at the dock, I reached for the bottle of Old Spice body and hair gel. I squeezed out a large dollop and washed myself. After washing my entire body, I dove into the lake to rinse off.
Drying off on the dock a few moments later, I heard a giggle. In a very British accent, I heard, “The realtor was right, you never know what kind of wild life you’ll see.”
I looked over to Paul’s lake front lawn and saw four people sitting on lawn chairs at the waters edge.
I threw on my tee shirt and apologized as I walked toward them, “I’m so sorry. I’m sure I ruined the beautiful morning, by making you watch me bathe”
“Nonsense,” said an upper crust older man. “Your swim looked very enjoyable.”
“It was. Thank you. My name is Christopher and I’m your neighbor for the week. Welcome.”
The older man made the introductions. Michael was 60ish, stick thin, except for a belly and ghost white skin. I chuckled at the short shorts, black socks and black sneakers.
His wife, ten years his junior was Sandra. She had grayish-blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and a gleaming smile. Her breasts were high and round, and she was wearing a white v-neck top that sported a nice amount of cleavage. A tan skirt showcased a pair of athletic legs, tucked up under her ass.
Sitting next to Sandra was her daughter Carol. Carol was a spitting image of her Mom and in her mid-30’s. She was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit and gym shorts. A set of thick erect nipples pressed outward from the tight black top. Like her Mom, Carol’s legs are slim and athletic. Her finger and toenails were a sexy shade of deep red.
As similar in appearance as mother and daughter, Carol’s husband, Hal looked just like his father-in-law, complete with the short shorts, dark shoes and socks.
I chatted with the two couples for a few minutes. They described their itinerary for the week. I made some helpful suggestions and then I wandered back to my computer and work.
That night, I headed to Archie’s, a local steak joint, located at the base of the Okemo Ski Area access road. The food is great, selection of wine is varied and at times, the bar is crowded with out-of-town divorcees.
Unfortunately, that night the bar was nearly empty. I ate and chatted with a few locals, and I drove home around nine.
If my daily swim is the highlight of my day, my evening hot tub soak is the highlight of my night. I keep the water very hot. Unlike most people, I never turn on the water jets. I love the peace and quiet. Instead, I sit in the silence, soak and sip wine.
Voices around the lake travel for great distances. I heard the door of my neighbor’s home shut and voices grew a bit louder as they walked to the lake. I was curious and moved to the opposite side of the tub to watch.
I followed the progress of two people. I wasn’t sure, but from the size of the woman’s breasts, I thought it was the daughter Carol.
I watched as they two people embraced. They kissed for a few minutes and then Hal half begged, “Please Carol?”
She responded, “God, yes! I love being on vacation. Remember, you promised to finish inside me.”
Carol dropped to her knees and pulled down Hal’s pants. Hal rested his butt against the edge of the picnic table. I smiled to myself and enjoyed the voyeuristic view as the shadowy figures joined together, mouth to cock.
I almost burst out laughing, when less than thirty seconds after the start, Hal groaned and in a very pissed off voice Carol said, “Already? You’re cumming already!”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. This experience has me so excited. I’m sure if you keep it up, I’ll be ready to go again, in no-time.”
With a very frustrated, “You better!” Carol lowered her head and began sucking his dick again.
In short order, the couple switched places. Carol sat on the edge of the table, her skirt pulled around her waist. Hal eased between her spread thighs and thrust into her. kadıköy escort Their moaning and words of encouragement filled the air – for less than a minute.
“Here it cums,” grunted Hal.
“Jesus, not yet,” was Carol’s urgent plea.
Hal continued to thrust and grunt until he was satisfied, then pulled from Carol.
“Please Hal. Please. Eat me? Please eat me!”
“Not likely, dear. You’re filled with my spunk.”
Carol said something I couldn’t understand. In a not-so-pleasant response, Hal said, “I’ll do better tomorrow night. Now back we go.”
I watched as Carol eased off the table, patted down her skirt and walked back to the cottage.
Tuesday was a tough day of work. The markets were less than predictable and I had to concentrate on work all day. As the market closed I was tense, irritable and horny.
I called Trish. She’s a cute, bubbly, mid-30’s school teacher and one of my fuck-buddies. I grilled some shrimp and asparagus, made a salad and we ate on the deck.
We were in the tub, under a star filled sky, sipping wine, when Hal and Carol made their, now nightly, trip to the lake.
I warned Trish, “Keep quiet and watch. This guy came twice in five minutes, last night. He really pissed off his wife.”
Trish giggled and I had to “shush” her.
Hal’s performance this night was just as pathetic. He fucked his wife twice in eight minutes, came twice and then refused to eat her. Carol hadn’t cum and was beyond frustrated. Instead of returning to the cottage with Hal, she remained at the picnic table.
We watched as Hal walked the short distance back to the house. Trish turned back to me, when we heard the door close behind him.
When she saw the smile on my face, she shook her head and whispered into my ear, “I know that look. You’re thinking something kinky.”
I whispered back, “Sit on the edge of the tub.”
Trish shook her head wildly and mouthed, “No way!”
I reached under the water. Trish’s large hanging breasts were bare. From experience, I knew her nipples were incredibly sensitive. I took her fat brown nipple between my thumb and forefinger and pinched her hard.
She covered her mouth with one hand and silenced a groan. Pulling her by her nipple, I guided her out of the water and into a sitting position on the side of the tub. I pushed her plump legs wide and leaned into her hairless pussy.
Trish is a loud lover. She moans. She curses. She talks dirty.
She gave up as soon as my tongue sliced across her clit.
“Oh yes . . . yes . . . yes. Eat me. Eat me. Eat my fucking pussy.”
Trish continued an on-going filthy dialog as she laid back and enjoyed my experienced tongue.
Right . . . there . . . yes . . . you got it . . . lick me . . . fucking lick me . . . ooooooohhhhhh yesssssssssss!”
Although Carol couldn’t see us, as my tub is tucked in the shadows, under the deck, it only took her five seconds to figure out what was happening. I watched as she quietly moved around on the picnic table and faced our direction.
I added a finger to Trish’s tight twat and received an immediate response. Trish grabbed the back of my head and bucked against my face.
“Fuck yes . . . fuck yes . . . fuck . . . fuck . . . FUCK . . . CUUUUUUUMMMING! Don’t . . . you . . . fucking . . . stoppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp!”
Looking over at my British neighbor, I could see that she spread her thighs and had a hand moving between her legs.
As Trish peaked, I pulled back and urgently wrestled her into a doggie position. The splashing water startled Carol. She strained to see us, but gave up when she heard Trish howl as I slammed into her.
“Your fucking dick . . . feels so fucking . . . gooooooooood! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
As I pounded Trish, I could see Carol’s hand was working furiously between her legs.
Carol listened to us fuck for over thirty minutes and played with herself the entire time. My little slut, Trish, came every few minutes. By the time Carol snuck back to the house, Trish was little more than a wasted dish-rag, hanging on to the side of the tub.
When the door to my neighbor’s house closed behind Carol, I pulled from Trish’s pussy and brought her back to life, when I pushed into her tight asshole.
Trish grunted and groaned, as I dumped my load into her vice-like ass.
On Wednesday night, Carol came to the lake alone. I watched as she sat on the picnic table and stared out over the water. She snuck an occasional glance over to my property. After a short time, she got up and wandered along the lakes edge, walking closer to me.
I didn’t want to startle her, so I gently called out, “Hi Carol. It’s Christopher, your neighbor.”
Carol spun in the direction of my voice and covered her mouth. “Oh, you scared me!”
“I’m sorry. I’m in the hot tub to your left.”
We’ve all had times in our lives when we encountered animal magnetism. As Carol approached the tub, the sexual tension kağıthane escort was thick. We chatted about their short time in Vermont and the daily excursions.
Finally, she looked at me and bashfully asked, “Do you come out here every night?”
I nodded, “Yes.”
“I heard you last night,” She admitted.
“And I heard you, the last two nights,” I countered.
“Oh bloody hell!”
I chuckled and reassured her, “Don’t worry about it.” I raised my wine glass and asked, “Could you use a drink?”
“Yes. That would be wonderful.”
I pointed to a small cupboard located a few feet away. “I’d be a gentleman and get you a wine glass, but I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”
Carol’s brow creased with confusion, “You’re naked?”
“I always soak naked.”
Carol gasped and involuntarily leaned closer to the tub, trying to see under the water. “I don’t believe you.”
For a man is his late 40’s, I’m in real good shape. I’m proud of my body and not shy about showing it off. I stood out of the water and showed Carol my naked form.
She stared and I let the tension continue to build. Her eyes jumped between my face and fattening cock.
Finally, I eased over the side of the tub, walked to the cabinet and took out a wine glass. I filled the glass, picked up mine from the side of the tub, walked around and stood arms length away from Carol.
As I handed her the glass, I proposed a toast, “To my British neighbors.”
All she could do was nod, as we touched glasses and she took three healthy gulps.
Carol was breathing hard. I reached for her glass and placed it, with mine on the edge of the tub.
I circled my arm around her waist and pulled her against me. I kissed her hard and she showed equal passion. Out tongues tangled together and she groaned into my mouth.
Pulling away, I told her, “I’m going to make you cum.”
When Carol nodded dumbly, I reached out and turned her around. “Oh, God,” was all she said, as I pulled her against me. Carol’s back was pressed against my front. I reached around her and unbuckled her shorts. I pushed the shorts and white silk g-string to her knees and then stepped on them, driving them to the deck.
“Step out of them,” I ordered.
Carol lifted her left foot and cleared her shorts and panties. With an encouraging hand on her back, Carol bent over the edge of the tub. She eased her legs wide, folded her arms along the tub and rested her head in her arms.
Less than a minute after taking her wine, I was pushing my fat cock into her overflowing tight married cunt. It took three hard pushes before I bottomed out.
Placing a hand on each of her shoulders, I started to pound my entire length into her. When she let out a piercing, “AAAArrrgghhhhhh,” I told her, “Watch out, your voice will carry to the cottage.”
Carol covered her mouth with the crook of her arm and wailed, as I continued to use her pussy. She had a small cum after a few minutes and as the small one built to a major blow; I could feel her start to rub her clit.
She groaned so loud, that I knew I had to watch the house, for any signs that anyone had heard.
As the orgasm passed, Carol limply hung onto the side of the tub. I let her rest and did all the work. I changed the depth and fucked her with the first three inches. Every few strokes, I buried my entire bone and switched back to just a few inches. It was great fun and we were approaching thirty minutes of hardcore fucking.
“I’m cumming again,” Carol moaned.
“Me too,” I responded.
I held her hips and power fucked her, until I exploded.
After emptying my load, I took a few steps back at sat in a beach chair. Carol remained bent over the tub. She looked so fucking sexy. She was naked from the waist down. Her ass was young and athletic and her legs were tan and flawless.
She finally stood and turned to me. She reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her white lace bra quickly dropped to the deck and I got my first look at her small perky breasts.
I noticed that her beaver was shaved into a thin landing strip as she lowered herself into the chair opposite me.
She saw me glancing at her cottage. She rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t worry about them. Dad and Hal are playing cribbage and Mom is reading. I told them I was going for a walk. They won’t bother us.”
And then she sighed, “My God, that was incredible. I’ve never been fucked that hard.”
In a sign of self-consciousness, Carol crossed her legs.
I shook my head and told her, “Uncross your legs.”
She shyly bit her lower lips and said, “No.”
“Uncross your legs or I’ll do it for you.”
She grinned in a dare, then thought better and slowly her left leg uncrossed from her right.
Carol was looking at me with concern and lust in her eyes.
“Hook your legs over the arm of the chair.”
When she didn’t move, I continued, “Do it now.”
She leaned back into the chair, scooted her ass forward and raised her legs over the arm.
Her cunt gapped open. I left my chair and knelt in front of her spunk filled hole.
“I heard the other night. Hal won’t eat your pussy.”
She shook her head and answered, “Hardly ever. He’s never done it after cumming in me.”
As I lowered my mouth to her creamy twat, she held me back. “But it’s so dirty.”
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