The door opening again, a woman coming in. The man in spectacles being introduced. A smile from the woman, oh, this is the friend you were telling me about, the lonely one. Taking his hand, leading him to the sofa, kissing his cheek. Clattering in the background of tea being made.
The woman still holding the man’s hand, stroking it. Let me read your palm, honey, yes, it’s telling me what I could see when I walked into the room, and what your friend told me, you need some stress relief, honey. Patting her thigh. Come lie down here honey.
The man hesitant. Come on honey. Pulling him gently down. His legs now outstretched on the sofa, his head using her thigh as a pillow. The woman’s fingers stroking his hair, rubbing his temples gently, touching his ears, kneading his neck and shoulders. The man’s body relaxing.
Her hands moving over his chest, massaging his thighs. A small murmur of pleasure from him. Undoing his belt, unbuttoning the trousers, unzipping the fly. Her hand feeling inside, a gasp of mock astonishment at the object found within. Pulling out his cock, another mock gasp at its magnificence.
The man’s eyes half-closed in pleasure. She looking at him fondly, one hand stoking his hair, the other working his cock. Her smiling sexual detachment, her matter-of-fact acceptance of male need, containing an intense erotic charge for the man, and for me.
His body starting to stiffen slightly. Her face turning to watch his cock. Her hand continuing its steady motion. A slow mounting groan from him, his legs straightening into rigidity. His body convulsing. His cock spewing its white fluid, the woman watching expertly.
The woman leaning down, giving him a kiss on the forehead, sliding out from under his head, passing him a cushion, going to the kitchen for a paper towel to wipe up. The man’s body untightening, his head sinking back in peace.
