The Celibate Lives of Jack & Jill
Satisfying each other, on a daily basis.
Based on a post by sex4every1. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
I had just divorced my husband after twenty-two years of marriage. It wasn't anyone's fault, there just was no more love, let alone lust, between us. I think we both gravitated to different interests and different activities. Sex was almost nonexistent, but I often saw semen stuck to the shower walls, after he left for work. Me? I had vibrators and erotic novels, keeping me sated.
We had decided to dispense with lawyers and all the red tape and to just part amicably; it helped, of course; that we were very wealthy and I was offered a very reasonable settlement. For that amount, I was able to buy an old house at the beach, which had been a dream of mine for many years.
[[MORE]]My husband loved the busy city life while I was more of a country or seaside girl. I swiftly came across a fixer-upper, which had been deserted for years, mainly because of the steep asking price. As money was not an issue and because I didn't mind the prospect of a long-term renovation, I didn't need a lot of time to make up my mind. Although the place was an absolute dump, I insisted on moving in as soon as possible, before any of the repairs or modifications had even started.
One of the most appealing features of the house was a giant porch overlooking the coastline; at the left side of the house the porch ended in a wooden stair case, providing direct access to the beach below. From the very first day, that porch was my favorite part of the whole house. As I was sitting there on my porch that first evening, looking at the setting sun and listening to the ocean sounds, I began to unwind for the first time in many months (maybe even years) and an almost intoxicating tranquility took over my mind and body. I can't remember how long I just sat there, enjoying the serenity, but suddenly my attention was drawn to a man walking up to the house. He had a very confused look on his face; and the closer he came, the more puzzled he seemed to get; until he was right in front of the house, looking up at me. I nodded and smiled, greeting him and asked, "Can I help you with something?"
"I didn't know someone lived here." the elder gentleman replied.
"Well, I just moved in this morning." I said, getting up and leaning over the banister of the porch. “My name is Jill.”
"Oh, hello, Jill. Well, I see; it's been so many years, I guess I didn't even consider the possibility." he murmured, barely audible. He looked completely disoriented for a moment.
"Would you like to come up for a cup of tea?" I asked, taking pity on him.
"No, I wouldn't want to disturb you." he said, turning away and preparing to leave.
"Don't be silly. Come on up." I insisted.
Still reluctantly, he walked up the stairs and introduced himself; his name was Jack and he was 44 years old. After pouring him a cup of tea, I listened to his story.
He lived about half a mile away; and had done so for the better part of his life. Fate had taken his wife; Darla. His high school sweet heart; away from him only months after marrying her. He had never loved another woman since then. While life had not been particularly kind to him, he seemed very cheerful and happy, although a bit lonely, I sensed. When he started talking about his interests, it seemed that we both shared a passion for the opera. He struck me as a very intelligent, kind and lively man.
However, the longer we talked, the more restless he seemed to become. At first, I assumed he was just the nervous type and that was the reason why he was constantly fidgeting in his chair or checking the time, but when he started showing physical signs of stress; dry mouth, sweaty hands, foot tapping; I decided to call him on it.
"Jack, Is something wrong? You seem terribly nervous."
"Don't worry about it, Jill." he smiled.
"Jack, something is obviously bothering you. And I would very much like to know what that is." I replied sternly.
"But I don't want to ruin an otherwise lovely evening." he whispered, getting even more nervous now.
"Come on, whatever it is, it can't be that bad," I insisted, "Spit it out."
He took another sip from his tea, took a deep breath and then said, "For the past seventeen years, I've been coming to this stretch of beach, come rain or shine, every evening at dusk. It has been my memorial tradition, to remember my departed wife, and find relieve from my grieving. It includes an activity of a more intimate nature.”
"Okay," I said, as he paused for a moment.
" to masturbate," he concluded.
I looked at him, waiting for a punch line, but none was coming.
"Excuse me?" I said, wanting to make sure I hadn't misunderstood him.
"Masturbate," he repeated, "What do you younger people call it? Jacking off, jerking off, wanking."
"I see," I said, unsure of what to do or say next.
"I am sorry, I have made you uncomfortable. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I think it's best if I go now," Jack said as he was about to get up and leave.
"Every day for 17 years, in the same spot?" I asked, not wanting him to leave.
"It's not that I don't jack off in other places, but yes; I don't think I've missed three days in all those years," he replied as he sat back down.
"Why here?" I asked.
"There's no deeper meaning or romantic story behind this location, if that's what you mean. I just got on my knees one day, jacked out a load and came back the following day to that same spot; and I have been doing it ever since. I guess I've always known that someday this house would be sold and I'd have to find another spot, but it's been so many years that I started kidding myself that the moment would never come," Jack said as he gaze into the darkness for a moment.
"But don't worry," he immediately added, turning his head towards me, clearly worried about my reaction, "I won't do it again; I'll find another spot."
"You don't have to stop just because I moved here," I said, after giving the matter surprisingly little thought.
"Off course I do," Jack replied, "This part of the beach is yours now."
"Don't be silly, the beach belongs to everyone. There's no reason why you should give up a 17-year old tradition," I said.
"Are you serious?" he asked.
"Yes I am. You can come and dump a load on my beach anytime you want!" I smiled.
"That's very kind of you. But what about when you've got company?" he asked.
"Don't worry, I never have company. I don't have any kids, I have one brother I haven't spoken to in years and no real friends to speak of; it seems my husband got those in the divorce," I smiled.
"And don't worry about your privacy," I suddenly added, "I plan on having some drapes up very soon."
"Don't be silly," he said almost as soon as I had finished my sentence, "If I can jack off my fat cock and shoot my sperm on your beach, I don't mind you watching every second of it!"
I smiled as I noticed his language had suddenly gotten a lot fouler.
"Besides." he continued. "I like to be watched, it makes me feel like a wanker!"
"Oh really?" I smiled, not knowing how else to respond.
"Hell yes. There's no point in sugar-coating it, I jack off every day; sometimes more than once; that makes me a wanker, period. And doing it while someone's watching, only makes my cock bigger and makes me squirt an even more disgusting load than usual."
"I; uhm." I stuttered, at a loss for words.
"Come on, be honest," he said, "Don't you think I am a wanker."
"Uh, maybe a little bit." I admitted, realizing that that was what he wanted to hear.
"Very good," Jack said, cupping his hard crotch with his right hand, "Then I'll think I'll go and jack off. You know, the technic ought to be named after me!" He winked.
"Now?" I asked, catching myself looking at the hard bulge in his pants.
"Do you mind?" he asked, unzipping his pants.
I’m hardly the one to feign moral disgust for self-pleasure. It repulses me to hear women demean men who jerk off. I usually observe uppity women and ‘church ladies’ being more guilty of this hypocrisy.
"No, go ahead," I quickly responded, not wanting him to whip out his cock in front of me. He smiled and turned away, walking down the stairs, further unzipping his pants and taking out his cock.
As he walked away from the house, in the direction of the sea, his arm movements left little to the imagination. About thirty meters in front of the house, he suddenly dropped to his knees, his back still towards the house and continued wanking. Although he couldn't see me; with his back towards me; and I couldn't see much more than his outline, I still felt uncomfortable looking at him while he was pleasuring himself and so I went inside. This had been a strange ending to an interesting and pleasant evening.
I tried to detach the last fifteen minutes from the rest of the evening in my mind, but; naturally; my brain kept focusing on that particular part. I fell asleep while visualizing Jack jerking off and spurting his cum on the beach; my beach, in front of my house!
I slept like a baby and for most part of the following day, I hardly thought about Jack. It wasn't until dusk started to set that my mind wandered off and started thinking about what happened last night. As I was sitting in front of the tv, I found myself constantly looking at the clock. Always finding some sort of reason, I got up and walked past the glass porch doors every five minutes or so. Eventually I got what I was after, confirmation of his presence. When I saw him sitting there, on his knees, in the same spot as yesterday; and probably every day before that, for like forever; a sort of calm came over me. I stayed and watched until he got up and seemed to be stuffing his cock away. As he walked away, he glanced over at the house and waved as he saw me through the porch doors.
As I hadn't bothered with turning off any lights behind me, I must have been pretty hard to miss. I felt like a silly school-girl for waving back. With nothing more to focus on, I quickly fell asleep in front of the tv. When I awoke several hours later, I went to bed, thinking of Jack once again. Although I wasn't in the habit of changing into my night attire too long before actually going to bed, the following evening, I did so right after dinner; telling myself I'd be more comfortable that way. So, in nothing more than some white panties and a men's shirt; that barely covered the panties; I set up camp behind the porch doors with a cup of tea. With the lights on behind me, it was pretty obvious that I wanted him to see me. And by the way I was dressed for the occasion, I was also sending pretty explicit signals; although I was still in denial about that.
When he showed up, he already noticed me on his way in and waved, smiling widely. I raised my hand, greeting him back and watched him as he sank to his knees in his usual spot. This time however, he didn't face the ocean but the house, looking straight at me as he took out his cock and started jacking off. I watched him and he watched me for several long minutes, until he eventually arched his back and shuddered; probably shooting a load of cum in the sand. Shortly afterwards, he got up and stuffed his cock back in his pants. But instead of leaving, he approached the house and seemed to be waiting for me to open the porch doors, as he clearly had something to say.
When I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, he said, "Nice view, but could you lose the shirt tomorrow? I would very much like to see some tit."
Without waiting for an answer, he waved goodbye and walked away. I quickly closed the porch doors again, taken aback by his bold question; but then again, I had done very little to discourage him so far. Anyway, I would just have to disappoint him tomorrow, I told myself as I turned off the light and went to bed.
But, the following evening, there I was again, dressed in a pair of panties and the same men's shirt I wore the night before; holding my cup of tea and trying to convince myself that I wasn't a complete slut. When he showed up and waved, I didn't wave back, but simply unbuttoned a button from the shirt; I don't know why I did it, I guess I was on some sort of automatic pilot. After watching me undo a second button, Jack quickly took off all of his clothes; sandals, t-shirt, shorts and underwear; before taking his cock in his right hand and jacking himself off as he dropped to his knees. While my left hand clenched my warm cup of tea, my right hand kept undoing buttons until there were none left to undo. Then I nonchalantly opened the shirt all the way, so both my tits were exposed.
He arched his back not much later and dumped yet another load in the sand. As soon as I realized he had done his business, I closed my shirt to cover up my tits; without actually buttoning up again.
As he got up and picked up his clothes, I opened the porch doors and shouted, before he had a chance to walk off, "Would you like to come up for a cup of tea?"
"You sure?" he shouted back as he was already walking towards the house.
"Yes, I am sure," I said as I walked into the kitchen and poured him some tea. As I walked back to the porch; where he had in the meantime taken a seat; I was a little surprised that he hadn't put his clothes back on yet and was apparently not planning to, as he had draped them over an adjacent chair. Then again, I was hardly in a position to judge as I was wearing skimpy panties and an unbuttoned men's shirt which, at the moment, scarcely covered my nipples.
As I handed him his cup of tea, I asked; “Jack, did your wife like it when you talked dirty to her, while having sex?”
He sheepishly grinned and finally said; “Fuck yeah, she loved it!”
I sat in silence with him. Then I glanced at his cock, which was hard as a mother fucker. Trying to act indifferent, I sat down and asked, "Shouldn't it go down after; you know?"
"Oh, most of the time it does," Jack replied with a smile, "But sometimes it stays hard; don't worry, it'll go down soon; if not I'll give it another wank."
Taking that statement as a joke, I smiled and sipped from my cup of tea.
A First Real Date.
"When's the last time you've been to the opera?" he asked, changing to a lighter subject. After a few minutes, his cock did indeed go down, but became erect again about forty minutes into our conversation. After I had glanced at it a few times; probably not too subtle; he looked down at it for a moment and wrapped his right hand around the fat shaft, just like that.
As his right hand started flying up and down his throbbing shaft, his left hand reached over to the adjacent chair, slid into his shirt pocket and pulled out a packet of tissues. After putting the packet on the table, he started the conversation up again as he continued jacking off right in front of me! Distracted by his lewd behavior, I had trouble concentrating on the conversation. Luckily, the hornier he got, the less coherent his speaking became, so it didn't really matter. Towards the end, there was no talking, just him wanking and me staring at him (it). When it was time, he pulled a single tissue out of the packet and quickly held it under his big, purple cock head. He moaned and climaxed right in front of me as I caught myself clenching my legs shut trying to ignore the wetness between them.
When he was done, he reached over and handed me the tissue, whispering, "If you'd like a taste later on tonight."
I accepted the tissue with a smile, but dropped it on the table almost immediately and replied, trying to keep some level of self-respect, "No thank you, I think I'll be just fine."
He finished his cup of tea soon afterwards, put his clothes on and left, wishing me a good night. After watching him disappear into the darkness, I cleared the table, carrying our two cups and the dirty tissue inside. Although I always clean up before going to bed, a part of me just couldn't throw the tissue in the trash.
So, I also left the cups out on the sink and said out loud, "I'll clean up tomorrow," as if I was trying to fool myself. I went to the bedroom and took off the shirt and my panties and went to bed stark naked; something I never do. I turned off the light and as soon as I had gotten on my back, I felt one hand touching my breasts, while the other ventured further down south. After playing with myself for about ten minutes and only adding oil to the fire, I got up and walked towards the kitchen, not bothering with any lights. With nipples so hard they could cut glass and my pussy so wet that my juices were literally running down my thighs, I headed straight for the sink, grabbed the tissue; the center of my lust; and dropped to my knees.
With nothing but some fade moon light illuminating the kitchen through the porch doors, I carefully folded the tissue open with both hands and brought it up to my mouth. As my tongue reached out to lick the tissue all over, trying to locate my prize, I shoved two fingers up my soaking wet twat. It took me several seconds to find it and although some of the cum had already dried up, there was still enough left to cover my tongue and overwhelm my taste buds, sending me in an orgasmic frenzy. I orgasmed spectacularly and screamed as loud as I could, actually stuffing the tissue in my mouth and chewing on it, lecherously. When my fingers were no longer able to keep my orgasm going, I spat out what remained of the tissue and quickly rinsed out my mouth under the kitchen tap, feeling more than just a little ashamed; and slutty; for what I had just done. After cleaning myself up a little bit, I put on my shirt again and went to bed. Truth be told, I had difficulty falling asleep afterwards; a combination of guilt and self-loathing kept me up for another half an hour.
The following morning however, I simply grinned at the memory of what I had done and told myself that I was a grown woman who could do whatever she wanted, who didn't have to answer to anyone anymore. Besides, it had been far too long since I had had a decent orgasm like that one Jack's tissue and cum; and my fingers; had given me. Not burdened with guilt anymore, I was able to get quite some work done around the house and keep myself busy until it was time for dinner. After eating my microwaved frozen dinner in front of the tv, I took off all my clothes except for my panties; not even bothering with the men's shirt anymore.
There was no longer any doubt as to what I should do, it was just part of my routine now. When the time came, I walked up to the porch doors and waited, for about fifteen minutes. Just like the day before, he waved, took off his clothes, kneeled butt naked in the sand and jacked out another load while ogling my body; covered in nothing but some insubstantial panties. Afterwards, he got up, grabbed his clothes and looked up at the house. As I held up two cups of tea, inviting him over, he smiled and came up. As I looked down at his flaccid cock, I felt both relief and disappointment at the same time, apparently not quite knowing where I wanted this to go. After sipping from his tea and sitting down stark naked in the chair, we started talking about our common interests again.
It was incredible how open and spontaneous we were; after all, between the two of us, there was only one item of clothing left: my panties. He shamelessly looked at my tits and my crotch, and I ogled his cock and balls. The whole experience was very liberating, and tantalizing.
Suddenly, as the conversation stalled a little bit, he asked, "So, did you get a chance to taste it?"
"I did," I replied instinctively, effectively admitting to eating his cum out of a tissue.
"Did you like it?" he asked, gently touching his dong.
"Yes I did," I admitted, feeling myself blush.
As his dong started growing under his subtle, but trained touch, he ogled my body up and down, his gaze lingering at my breasts as he gently stroked his cock back to a fully erect state, right in front of me and asked, "I'll have another tissue ready in a couple of minutes. Would you like this one too?"
"I guess I would," I replied, remarkably at ease with the whole situation.
He slid off the chair onto his knees and started wanking, half of the time with his eyes closed, the other half looking at my tits and crotch. After a few minutes, he moaned and ejaculated into his free hand, which he held as a cup under the fat tip of his cock. When he was done, he reached into the chest pocket of his shirt; lying on the floor next to his chair; and took out a tissue, using it to scoop up all of the cum from his hand and cock.
"There you go," he said as he got up and handed me the tissue.
"Thanks," I whispered as I accepted it. Realizing there was no point in waiting for him to leave; he already knew I had eaten his cum and would do so again; I folded the tissue open and pressed the gooey part of it against my tongue. Feeling surprisingly little shame or embarrassment; probably because I was horny as fuck; I slid my free hand into my panties and started playing with myself right in front of him, while tasting his sticky, fresh goo. After consuming every speck of cum; and part of the tissue as well; I threw what was left of it on the table and forced myself to stop as I knew I would have difficulty climaxing in my current position.
After gawking at me for a few more seconds, clearly aroused, Jack snapped out of it and said, "Well uh, same time tomorrow?"
I nodded and smiled as we both felt like we'd gotten everything out of tonight we were comfortable with; for now. I sat up straight and sipped from my tea as he picked up his clothes and walked towards the stairs. Instead of heading down, he turned and asked, "I was wondering; if perhaps, I mean if you're not busy, if you would like to accompany me to the opera, this Saturday?"
I smiled at the absurdity of the situation; he was nervously asking me out for a date, while he had just jacked off in front of me and had watched me eat his cum, while playing with myself.
"I would love to," I replied with a big smile.
"Wonderful," he smiled, "I'll pick you up, around seven?"
"Perfect. It's a date."
"Okay, see you tomorrow," he said as he turned and left.
Because of his invitation my lust had all but faded, so I put on a shirt and went to bed, wondering what my ex-husband would say if he knew I had a date on Saturday, with a man who had masturbated in front of me several times and who's cum I had eaten twice already. Although I had seen him completely naked, I realized that he still hadn't seen my pussy; I would have to remedy that inequality as soon as possible, I thought to myself. I fell asleep with a big smile on my face.
The following day, I felt quite randy and particularly slutty all day long, probably because I had an itch that needed some serious scratching. I did my best to keep busy, while I anxiously counted down the hours to dusk.
Naked, except for my white cotton panties, I awaited Jack's arrival. Not from behind the glass doors, but from right there on the porch this time. When he walked into view, I smiled as I noticed his hard cock sticking out of his fly. He waved as he approached the house and assumed his usual position in the sand, facing the house, and me. I leaned over the banister and watched him jerk that big cock for about a minute, when I suddenly recalled the last thought on mind the night before. I stood up straight and slowly started pushing my white panties down.
I had barely exposed my bush when he loudly screamed, "Oh fuck!" and started convulsing wildly.
Happy with the result I had gotten, I let go of my panties, leaving them exactly where they were; rolled up just underneath my bush; and waited for him to come up the stairs.
"Sorry I don't have a tissue for you this time," he joked, ogling my crotch as soon as it came into view.
"That's okay," I smiled as I noticed a residual bead of cum dangling from his cock; sticking out of his zipper. Without the slightest hesitation, I put down my cup of tea and said, "I'll get it straight from the source this time!"
Before his brain could process what I had said, I reached out, grabbed his flaccid dong with one hand, gently squeezing it, and used the index and middle finger of my other hand to scoop up the cum from his cock head. Then, I ostentatiously stuck out my tongue and wiped his cum on it, swallowing it and then sucking my fingers for a moment. My god, I was acting like such a slut!
He just stood there, gawking at me, even as I lowered my hands again and stepped back towards the table. As I sat down, amused by his bewildered facial expression, I realized the strange position of my panties again. But, since they weren't causing me any discomfort, I refused to pull them up or push them down. Truth be told, it felt kind of slutty leaving them like that. As soon as Jack snapped out of it, he; to my mild surprise; took off all of his clothes and sat down completely naked in his usual seat.
After we had both sipped from our tea, he said; apparently emboldened by what I had just done, "You know, I've probably got another load in my balls; if you'd like I could shoot it straight into your mouth."
"Thanks," I replied with a smile, "But I think I'll stick to tissues for now."
"As you wish," he replied, sipping from his tea again.
"So, what are we seeing on Saturday?" I asked, changing to a lighter subject. After briefly discussing our upcoming date, the conversation progressed further into opera and other fine arts. Aside from the constant leering at each other's exposed genitals, it was actually quite an intellectual conversation. When we ran out of tea, I went inside to make us a fresh pot; still leaving my panties where they were. As I sat down and poured Jack another cup, he suddenly reached over and gently took my right nipple between his thumb and index finger and playing with it. My nipple became instantly hard and started radiating lust to the rest of my body. By the time I had poured myself another cup as well, Jack was already gently tugging it, driving me crazy and actually making me wet.
Slowly his other hand moved towards my other tit and he started doing the same to that nipple, while continuing our conversation. Making sure I kept my tits and nipples within Jack's reach, I stuck my hand under the table as far as I could, feeling around for his no doubt swollen cock, but I couldn't locate it. As he realized what I was trying to do, he scooted forward on his chair, bringing his cock within my grasp. Although I could still only wrap my hand around half it, I figured it would get the job done just fine and so I started jacking him off with a solid, firm grip. We both started moaning during our ongoing conversation, but managed to keep it going nonetheless, although be it a little less focused than before. Realizing this wasn't the most ideal position for a handjob, Jack got up about a minute into my stroking and repositioned his chair right next to mine, sitting down and opening his legs wide, giving me unhindered access.
Now able to stroke the whole length of his fat shaft, I was able to jerk him off much more comfortably than before. He, was able to cup my breasts and jiggle them as hard and as nasty as he saw fit. Although my legs were open wide and my pussy was still exposed, he made no attempt to touch me down there. I don't know if I would have stopped him or not, but I guess he felt like the time wasn't right yet. He did stare at my bush a lot and I could feel his cock throbbing in my hand every time he did. When, after several minutes, he started visibly quivering on his chair, I knew he was going to cum. I quickly scooted to the edge of my seat, pulled my panties forward with my free hand; opening them up; and directed his purple cock straight at the center of them.
His mouth fell open when he realized what I was going to do. He looked down in disbelief as I whacked the cum out of his balls into my panties. The fact that I kept on talking during his ejaculation only seemed to increase his pleasure. Once his balls were empty, I let go of his cock, got up and pulled my panties back up into their proper place. Then, with my crotch mere inches away from his face, I started pressing and massaging my drenched panties into my bush and pussy.
"Oh my god," Jack whispered.
Completely free of any shame or hesitation, I closed my eyes and while the middle finger of my right hand started rubbing Jack's cum into my clit, my left hand started kneading my tits and playing with my nipples, making them hard as little rocks. I could actually feel his breath on me as he watched me squirm and writhe in sheer lust.
Realizing I wasn't going to climax like this; and I wasn't quite ready to let him finger, let alone fuck me; I continued my perverted show while I weighed my options. After about twenty seconds, I'd made my decision. I turned and strolled into the house as I glanced back at him over my shoulder, encouraging him to follow me. I walked into the living room, sat down on the couch and turned on the tv, to one of those fake fireplace programs. As Jack sauntered into the living room, I took off my drenched panties and started playing with myself tenderly; gently drawing circles on my moist clit, fondling my swollen nipples and caressing myself all over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes and surrendered to my lust, ignoring the fact that Jack was right there in the room with me; I had never masturbated so openly in front of someone, not even my husband.
I don't know how long I had been at it; possibly ten or fifteen minutes; when my body suddenly had had enough of the endless teasing and demanded some much needed relief. I gently stuck two fingers up my sodden twat and started fingering, filling the quiet room; except for my shallow breathing and the chirping noises of the fake fireplace; with lewd squishing noises. I was so primed for an orgasm that it didn't even take me a minute to reach my climax, and when I did, I made it last for minutes and minutes. I fingered myself deep and fast while continuing to stimulate my clit with my other hand, sending endless waves of pleasure rolling through my body. When plain fatigue eventually forced me to stop, I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices; some of it was dripping down the leather couch and was soaking the carpet right in front of it. I slumped, exhausted, against the back of the couch and moaned heavily as I enjoyed the lingering sensations of a superb orgasm.
Sensing that this was his queue, Jack whispered, "I think I'd better be going."
He was more than likely sporting another one of his massive boners, but I was too far gone to open my eyes, so I just whispered, "Ok, see you tomorrow."
"Pick you up at seven?" he asked.
"Perfect," I smiled, realizing that tomorrow was Saturday; date night!
It was the last thing on my mind when I fell asleep; on the couch; and the first thing when I opened my eyes the next morning. All morning, my sensitive genitals were a constant reminder of what I had done in front of; and because of; Jack. After a restful afternoon, I started preparing for our date around five and finished at about a quarter to seven. I was wearing a long, slimming black cocktail dress with black underwear and matching high heels. I paced up and down the living room; I couldn't believe how nervous I was!
Seven o'clock sharp, he rang the doorbell. He greeted me with a smile, gave me a peck on the cheek and offered me a bouquet of twelve red roses. A little overwhelmed, I invited him in and walked into the kitchen to put the flowers in some water.
"You really shouldn't have," I said, blushing and unable to hide a smile.
"My pleasure," he whispered as he patiently waited for me to finish tending to the flowers.
When I was done and reached for my purse, he said, "I've got something else for you."
To my amusement, he pulled a small, sealed, plastic bag out of his pants pocket, which contained a crumpled paper tissue; after opening the bag, he carefully pulled the tissue out using only two fingers and handed it to me.
"Prepared just for you, this afternoon," he smiled.
My pussy involuntarily contracted and my initial smile turned to instant lust as I accepted the tissue, looking into his eyes for a few moments. Then, while looking at the dirty hankie; quickly locating his goo; I opened it and brought it up to my lips, where I loudly slurped his warm and gooey sperm out of it. After swallowing ostentatiously, I folded the tissue back to its former size and handed it back to Jack, who was looking at me with a perplexed grin.
"You're amazing," he stated, as he put the tissue back in the plastic bag and threw it on the table.
"You're just saying that because I am a slut who eats your cum on a daily basis," I chuckled, picking up my purse and walking towards the hallway.
"Good point," he replied as he followed me to the front door.
He held the passenger's door open for me, like a true gentleman. After a fifteen minute drive, we arrived at the opera, where I was surprised to learn that he had gotten us a private balcony box right next to the stage; the best seats in the house, so to speak. The play consisted of three acts, each lasting about forty-five minutes with two intermissions, each lasting about twenty minutes. Halfway through the second act, I noticed Jack getting restless, constantly looking at his watch and fidgeting in his chair. Realizing that his daily routine was probably the cause of this mild anxiety, I ignored it, figuring he would keep himself in check until we got back to my place. However, about ten minutes later, I suddenly noticed him unzipping his pants and taking out his shlong.
As he started jacking it, I was torn between watching him or the stage, and ended up alternating between them. At the end of act two, I had expected Jack to storm off into the bathrooms to finish himself off, but instead he continued wanking during the whole of the intermission. We didn't speak; instead I just looked at him, pumping that big hard cock of his in his half-open fist.
Twenty minutes later, when the lights dimmed again and act three was about to start, Jack; still masturbating; looked at me and asked, bluntly, "Could you sit like a slut?"
I looked at him for a few seconds, before scooting towards the edge of my seat and reaching under my dress to take off my black panties. After throwing them onto the floor, I reclined in my chair and opened my legs wide, while pulling my dress up as high as it would go in my seated position, exposing my bare legs and my now unshielded pussy.
Then, I slowly slid my shoulder straps down my shoulders and pulled my dress down over my rack, revealing my black bra. Without unclasping it, I pulled my bra up, exposing my naked tits. Neither of us spoke for at least a minute as I sat there like a complete slut with both my bush and my tits out on display. He just continued jacking off as he gawked at; and drooled over; my essentially naked body.
Suddenly, he scooted to the edge of his seat and; using the cover of darkness; stood up, turned towards me and began spurting his thick, white cum onto my black cocktail dress, my naked tits and my bare legs. Because it was so dark, I couldn't actually see his cum, but I could feel big globs of his cock juice splattering against the thin fabric of my cocktail dress as well as my skin.
I didn't say anything, nor made any effort to move out of the way; I just sat there, looking at the stage, passed him, as he emptied his balls on me. When he was done, he sat back down and seemed to be catching his breath for a minute or two. I took my cell phone out of my purse and used the light from its large display to illuminate sections of my body, and my clothes. It was incredible, no matter where l pointed my phone, there were ropes and beads of cum everywhere!
"I can't go home like this," I whispered, staring down at myself. We both knew what I was going to do, so there was no point in dragging it out. Guided by the light of my phone in my right hand, I used my left index finger to scoop Jack's cum off my dress, bra, tits, legs, thighs and arms, bringing each serving of spunk to my mouth and swallowing it. It took several minutes of gobbling up his cum to make myself look presentable again.
Well, except for the fact that I was still sitting like a cheap slut, off course, with my tits and bush out in the open. And they remained that way for the next thirty minutes, while Jack and I enjoyed the rest of the play. Only in the final seconds of the third act, did I rearrange my bra and dress; just in time, so I could join the rest of the audience in applauding. As the clapping died down and the lights came on again, I picked up my panties and stuffed them in my purse. Luckily, my cocktail dress was no worse for wear; whatever cum I hadn't consumed,
apparently hadn't left any stains; so I was able to walk out of the opera house without causing a scene. We discussed the play in great detail during our walk back to the car and our drive home.
Breaking the silence, I asked; “Do you like it when I play the slutty woman, Jack?”
“Oh, fuck, yeah! My Darla played a great slut fantasy.”
After walking me to my front door, Jack gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered, "See you tomorrow."
"I'll be waiting," I whispered as I watched him walk back to his car and drive off.
Epilogue.
Perhaps, one day, if I get an itch deep in my cunt, I’ll ask Jack to thoroughly scratch the hell out of it. Or perhaps he’ll eventually get over the loss of his departed bride, and ask me to give his cock a warm, wet hug, in one of my orifices. But what we now have, is absolutely delightful, and even addicting.
Based on a post by sex4every1 for Literotica.
