It's the middle of August, and already my son of a bitch husband has started his annual pilgrimage to his "man cave" to watch football. Whether it's college or the pros, Barry can't get enough.

From now until the middle of February, I'll be a football widow, and he'll forget that I exist.

Pre-season means Thursday night games of the new pro talent. The pigskin addict's chance to see if the top draft choices are worth the millions they're being paid.

After a quick supper, Barry announced he was going downstairs to catch a game. "Oh, of course," I said, adding. "See you in February."

Barry looked over his shoulder with a disgusting grin on his lips. I think he enjoyed doing this every fall.

I flipped him off just before he disappeared down the basement stairs to his man cave.

"Fuck him." I thought. "I'll just go spend some of his hard-earned money."

I went upstairs to our bedroom and changed into a tight pair of jeans and a tighter white tank top. I brushed through my shoulder-length, auburn hair and slipped into a pair of sneakers. Perfect for an evening of shopping at the Strawberry Square Mall.

Barry's law degree and junior partnership at Yost, Yost, and Burns allow me to enjoy almost anything I like, and what I like most is shopping.

I put the top down on my silver SLK55 AMG and sped off to the mall without saying goodbye to Mr. Pig Skin.

Strawberry Square is a short drive, and in no time, I was pulling into a space at one end of the mall.

As I approached the entrance, a few college boys strolled by and checked me out. I was happy to realize that at thirty-five, I could still attract the attention of a couple twenty-year-olds.

But then again, I do work out regularly, and since Barry decided he wanted his trophy wife to have, as he put it, "slightly bigger tits," my tank tops reveal enough to attract anyone with a cock between his legs.

First stop Monica's Boutique.

"Peg!" Monica nearly screamed as I rounded the corner of her display window and entered her shop.

"Hi Monica, what's new?" I asked.

Monica always smiles, but her smile widened as she approached me.

"Peg, I don't think I've seen you all summer. Where have you been, darlin'?" Monica asked.

My golden tan should have told her, but I answered. "Spent eight weeks down the shore this summer."

Monica shook her finger at me and warned. "That sun will give you wrinkles if you’re not careful, Peg."

"Maybe, but I still love relaxing on the beach and letting my skin bake," I admitted, knowing Monica was correct in her warning.

"So, darlin', what brings you to the mall on a Thursday night?" Monica asked.

"Football." was my one-word reply.

Monica grinned and said. "Oh yes, another glorious football season. My business always picks up when the gridiron action begins."

"So show me what's new, Monica," I asked.

"Right this way, Peg," Monica answered, waving me past and deeper into her cute little boutique.

For the next forty-five minutes, I tried on everything from business suits for women to sexy lingerie and dropped a couple hundred of Barry's hard-earned dollars.

"Well, Monica, I suppose I've spent enough. Can I stop by later to pick up my packages? I wanna see what's hot at Mulhollands Shoe Store, and I hate carrying all these bags,” I asked.

"Sure, Peg, I'm here till closing tonight," Monica replied.

"Thanks, hun. I'll see you around nine."

As I window-shopped my way to the other end of the mall where Mulhollands was located, I noticed those two college types still lurking around and checking me out.

Feeling rather brazen and knowing it would be a long football season, I walked up to them and said. "Are you two following me?"

One turned bright red, but the other kept his cool and replied. "And what if we were. You're certainly a very hot-looking MILF."

I had never heard the term MILF and not wanting to back down to this guy, I asked. "And just exactly what is a MILF?"

He grinned and instantly answered. "MILF stands for mother I'd like to fuck."

"Shouldn't that be MILTF then?" I asked.

He looked confused until his youthful mind figured it out.

"No matter,” he said. "I'd still love to throw a quickie into you."

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, buddy,” I quickly replied before turning and leaving them, trying to figure out where they went wrong.

Mulhollands was empty, and I made short order of another buck fifty of Barry's cash and headed back to Monica's with a new pair of stiletto heels and another pair of high-heeled boots.

"Monica, you're never going to believe this, but some college kid and his friend called me a MILF earlier," I said as I walked in.

Monica grinned and said. "What's your point, Peg? You are a MILF."

"Maybe so, but he was so obnoxious about saying he wanted to throw a quickie into me," I told Monica.

Monica grinned and said. "Peg being a MILF is a good thing. Think about it. If someone young enough to consider you a mother still wants to get you in the sack, you must still look pretty good.

"So, what should I have done, Monica?" I asked.

Without hesitation, Monica replied. "Ya should have brought both of them back here, and we could have had some fun in the back room."

"Oh my God, Monica, you have to be kidding!" I exclaimed.

Monica looked at me with a serious look on her face. "Darlin', your hubby is home staring at a football game. What are your chances of getting any from him tonight?"

"Slim and none," I replied.

"Exactly," Monica said, then added. "So, you had a chance to go home satisfied and gave up the chance. Now you'll have to be satisfied with making yourself happy later."

Monica was right. Even if I walked into Barry's man cave wearing nothing but my new stilettos, I'd be lucky if I could get him to let me suck his cock while he continued watching the damn football game.

"Next time two young studs call you a MILF, darlin', you grab them by the balls and drag them back here, and we'll share some hot young cock,” Monica suggested.

"We'll see, Monica," I said as I grabbed my bags and headed for the exit.

It had cooled off some by the time I left the mall, and as I walked across the lot, my nipples reacted to the cool night air and became twin nubs pressing at the fabric of my tank top. In the back of my mind, I wished those two young studs would be waiting outside for me. I know if they had been, my hard nipples would have encouraged them to give me another shot. And after my talk with Monica, I very well may have given in to their desires.

They were nowhere to be found, and as I drove out of the nearly empty lot, I thought. "It's a long season. I must keep my eyes open for those two and see if Monica was right.

The garage door closed quietly behind me, and I gathered up my purchases and walked into the kitchen. Barry had his head stuffed in the frig, looking for something.

"What is it half time?" I asked with a disgusted tone of voice.

He straightened up, holding a beer, and said. "End of the third. Gotta go." Then turned and disappeared downstairs.

I stood there in the kitchen thinking. "He's an idiot. I'm standing here with my nipples nearly tearing the material of my tank top. If he'd have just asked, I would have followed him downstairs and fucked him silly."

"Fuck you, Barry," I whispered so only I could hear.

I headed to the bedroom alone and rather horny. Once there, I stripped naked and, after brushing my hair, slipped under the cool white cotton sheets of our bed.

As I lay there stewing over my son of a bitch husband's ignorance, my mind returned to the mall and those two boys who had tried to pick me up.

My delicate fingers moved to my breasts and began softly massaging the warm, creamy flesh. My nipples returned to the erect state they had been earlier.

I imagined how different my night would have been had I given him more than a snowball's chance in hell and been more receptive to his comment about throwing a quickie into me.

My fingers slid down from my breasts toward the cleanly shaven mound of soft flesh above my pussy. I imagined his young hand sliding there and beyond.

I dipped my finger between the outer lips and found the moist warm folds of my pussy. With closed eyes, I fantasized about his middle finger slipping between those lips and finding an erect clitoris.

My finger found that nub of pleasure and began circling the hard bulb at the center.

In my mind's eye, I reached for his erection and slowly began rubbing the length of his stiff cock shaft with soft, delicate fingers.

I slipped a second finger between my swelling pussy lips to join the first at my hard clit.

As I became more and more intoxicated with the motion of my fingers, my mind raced with the idea of holding his throbbing cock naked in my hand.

The heat of youthful cock. The hardness of his shaft pressed against my palm. The soft, flaring flesh of his sensitive corona as my fingers sensually slid over it time and time again.

My fingers slipped down and deep into the wet searing heat of my completely alive pussy. Involuntarily, my hips began moving against my fingers.

I could almost feel him as he positioned his body over mine. His strong hands pressed my thighs apart, spreading me open to accept his blood-engorged cock.

A third finger joined the first two, and my hips began to move faster and faster as I fingered my soaking wet, twitching pussy closer and closer to orgasm.

My fantasy continued. His taut cock head touched my pussy lips, and I spread myself wider in anticipation of his first lustful plunge inside.

And then he was inside. In one mighty youthful thrust, his rock-hard cock was buried to the hilt. Throbbing, pulsing twitching inside my searing hot, soaking wet pussy.

"Fuck me!" I whispered, imagining my youthful lover was there to hear my plea.

My fingers, in a blaze of erotic motion, brought me to an incredible climax. My pussy flooded with juices. Spear after incredible spear of pleasure shot from my loins up into my brain, where I imagined my wonderful college boy fucking me until he filled my cunt with his boiling, thick salty-tasting cum.

As my orgasm subsided, I slid my fingers to my mouth and licked the sweet juices from them. It was going to be a long football season. As I fell asleep, I almost couldn't wait until the next game.

Friday was a dreary, stormy day. I had wanted to put on my skimpy bikini and spend the afternoon by the pool. Instead, I wasted the afternoon thinking about my brief encounter with those college boys, my conversation with Monica, and how upset I was about the start of another boring season.

I used to enjoy football games. Hell, I was a cheerleader in college, so I spent a lot of time with the team, traveling on buses to away games. I never considered myself a prude, having my fair share of boyfriends in high school and college. I was trendy back then.

Barry and I married a year before he passed the bar and have been married for 14 years. We decided early on that we didn't want children, but his brothers and sisters provided a long list of nieces and nephews to Christmas shop for.

Friday evening, after dinner, Barry and I attended his nephew's high school game. I enjoy going to high school football games. I can watch the cheerleaders, and Barry can watch the game.

While we were driving home, I asked. "What games are you planning on watching this weekend, hun?"

"There's a college kickoff doubleheader on ESPN tomorrow, and Sunday evening is the bird's final preseason game," Barry replied.

"Okay," I answered.

"Margaret, I hope you're not too upset with me. You know how much I love football,” Barry said.

He's probably the only man besides my dad who calls me Margaret. To everyone else, I'm either Peg or Peggy.

"I know, baby. I hope you don't expect me to stick around the house while you're in your man cave,” I replied.

"Never would, Margaret," Barry said. "Maybe you could go shopping with one of your friends,” he suggested.

Barry pulled his E-class into the garage, and as we walked into the kitchen, he said. "Margaret, I'm bushed. I think I'm gonna turn in."

I rolled my eyes at him and replied. "Whatever.”

"Oh yeah, another football season and another sexual dry spell,” I thought.

Fourteen years is a long time to be completely faithful, and I suspected that was about to change.

I fell asleep that night, wondering if every man becomes a football zombie this time of year.

Saturday morning dawned clear and chilly; I had some coffee on the patio, wearing an oversized white fluffy bathrobe. Our pool is very secluded, with a high fence and even higher arborvitae growing on the inside. Barry and I often swim naked at night. I even remember him fucking me poolside a few times. At least, I think I remember that. It could have been a fantasy, also.

Around eleven, it had warmed enough that I considered a swim. Barry was already in his man cave watching the pregame shows, so I just walked over to the edge of the shallow end and slid my robe off my shoulders.

Even though the air had warmed, the pool water was downright cold. As I dipped my shoulders under the surface, I could feel my nipples instantly harden. Ever since my augmentation surgery, my nipples have become ultra-sensitive. The slightest temperature change causes them to harden and become taut enough that tiny beads of flesh pop out along the edge of my areola, surrounding the larger nipple in the middle.

I slowly massaged both tight nipples below the surface of the water. Even in the cold water, I felt warmth between my thighs. I left one hand on my nipple while I slid the other down between my thighs. My middle finger found the slit of my pussy and dipped inside softly, stroking my erect clit and deeper.

As I slowly brought myself to another self-induced orgasm, I thought, "This is such bullshit. I wanna get fucked; if my prick of a husband won't service me, then I was bound and determined to find some man who would."

I almost rushed back to my bedroom, finally deciding to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed a quick shower to freshen up, and I was ready to choose what to wear.

I opted for a white lace bra with a deep plunging front that revealed more cleavage than I usually reveal. A matching white lace thong pulled high on my hips and tight through the crotch.

White dress slacks that clung perfectly to my naked ass cheeks, a white silk blouse sheer enough to show the fancy lace of my bra. A pair of white pumps finished my almost virginal appearance.

Glancing at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door, I thought something wasn't exactly correct. Then it dawned on me. I had on a sexy bra that showed off my full breasts, and I wasn't taking advantage of it.

Unbuttoning two more buttons of the blouse did the trick. Some light make-up and I was ready. I giggled to myself when I thought. "Ready for some serious cock hunting. I wanted to discover just what it is that causes young cock to crave a MILF so much."

As I crossed the kitchen, I yelled down the stairs. "Later, honey!"

I'm not sure Mr. Pig Skin heard me, and to be completely honest, I didn't care if he did or not.

I put the top down on the Benz and backed out of the garage. I love driving with the top down, having the wind blowing my hair, and feeling the warm sunshine on my face. And today, I had a particular reason for having the top-down. Any guy who wanted could check me out.

I drove past a park where at least fifteen or twenty other football zombies were playing a pick-up game.

I giggled as I thought. "Maybe everyman does turn into a zombie at kick-off."

A few miles further, I came upon Mickey's Beach Bar. I recall a place much like this down the shore where many young men hung out trying to pick up the available beach bunnies or a lonely waitress.

I'd give Mickey's a try and turned into their lot. Parking a few spaces from anyone else was a good idea. Not only would it ensure my SLK didn't get scratched, but it would give every guy in the place a chance to watch me strolling toward the bar.

Heads turned as I made my way to the opposite end of the long bar and took a seat a few stools from the waitperson station. I could check all the guys sitting at the bar from here, and my long, sensual stroll gave them all a chance to check me out, too.

"What'll ya have, Miss?" The middle-aged bartender asked.

I usually like fruity drinks, but I figured I needed encouragement, so I replied. "A double Drambuie on the rocks, please."

"Comin' up, miss,” the bartender said.

I'd have thought at least one or two of the men sitting at the bar would have kept looking my way, but then I realized they were all staring at the big screen TV at the other end of the bar. Of course, it was tuned to a collegiate kickoff game.

I took a big gulp of my drink. The Drambuie tasted honey-sweet but still burned a little, going down. No matter its effect, was what I was after.

I had just about finished my drink when a voice behind me said, "Can I buy the next round?"

I turned sideways in my stool toward the sexy voice offering me a drink.

His midnight black wavy hair was combed straight back. A brilliant white smile set off strong facial features.

"Why yes, I'd love another," I said, smiling widely at him.

"Wonderful,” he replied, then added. "Would you like to join me?" He turned slightly and pointed to a table three-quarters across the open-air part of the beach bar.

I was still smiling as I accepted. "Love to."

He motioned for the bartender to send a round to his table and then escorted me, holding my elbow gently in his hand, back to his table.

"Sit here under the umbrella,” he suggested.

"Thank you".....I paused, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"I'm Mark,” he said

"Margaret," I replied, holding one hand close to my heart.

"My pleasure, Margaret," Mark said as he helped me with my chair.

He no sooner sat down across the table from me when the waitress arrived with our drinks.

"Drambuie on the rocks and a Black n Tan lager,” she said.

I smiled and lifted the glass to my lips, taking a healthy swig. I wanted to make sure the scotch was making me feel giddy and not the fact that Mark was so very sexy.

"So Margaret, what brings you to Mickey's on such a beautiful day?" Mark asked.

"I wanted to get out and enjoy the sunshine and fresh air for a while and escape The Game," I said, lifting my hands and gesturing the quotation marks with my slim fingers. My wedding band and two-carrot engagement ring clearly showed as I motioned.

Mark smiled again and asked. "Don't you mean to escape the man watching the game?" He, too, gestured with his fingers.

"I suppose I do, Mark," I answered. "Why aren't you watching the game?"

"Why would I wanna watch a football game when there is such a lovely vision of beauty to watch instead?" Mark replied, scoring big points with me.

I smiled and reached across the table, touching his tanned hand as I said, "Thank you, again."

Since I was starting to feel the effects of the scotch, I took only a tiny sip from my glass before I asked. "So what do you do, Mark?"

"I'm a first-year grad student at university. Studying for my master's in business management,” he explained.

"How about you, Margaret?" Mark asked.

I giggled and replied. "I'm just a trophy wife."

Mark smiled and reached across the table, taking my hand in his. "A blue ribbon trophy wife,” he said.

So far, Mark had said all the right things. I was beginning to think this cock hunting was going to be easy.

My head began to swim from the scotch, and I bravely asked. "Do you know what a MILF is?"

Mark grinned and placed his hand on his chin. "I believe I'm looking at one right now."

I leaned forward, giving him a better look at my cleavage. "You think I'm a MILF?" I asked.

Mark shook his head yes.

"Have you ever fucked a MILF Mark?" I blurted out.

Mark again shook his head.

The scotch made me brave, and I asked. "Do you like fucking MILFs?"

Mark smiled widely and shook his head. "Do you wanna fuck this MILF?" I asked.

"Do you wanna get fucked?" he asked me.

I leaned toward him and slipped my hand under his. Looking him directly in those sexy dark eyes, I said. "Absolutely!"

Mark lifted his lager to his lips and finished it in one huge gulp.

"My place or..." he paused, "My place?"

I only smiled and shook my head yes.

Mark helped me from my seat, and it was a good thing he did because I might have fallen flat on my ass if he hadn't.

As he walked me toward the exit, he said. "Margaret, you're in no condition to drive."

I reached into my purse and pulled out the keys to my Benz. "Can you drive me, Mark?"

"I'll drive you anywhere, Margaret," Mark said.

I giggled as he opened the passenger door and said. "What I want is for you to drive me insane."

As we drove, my head began spinning, or perhaps it was the Benz spinning, I'm not quite sure.

The scenery blurred, and before I could say a word, I lost consciousness.

I awoke in a strange bedroom on a strange bed, completely dressed and alone. Even though it hurt, I lifted my head from the pillow and looked around. It might have been a peculiar bedroom and bed, but it certainly was well-appointed and very comfortable.

"Mark?" I whispered.

No answer. I slid off the soft, down-filled comforter and walked toward the door.

"Mark, are you here?" I whispered again.

No answer.

Walking toward the kitchen, I noticed my keys and a note on the counter.

"Margaret, I had an appointment I had to go to tonight. I hope you're able to drive okay. Next time we meet, I'll order you a Shirley Temple. Call me if you'd like to get together sometime, Mark." His number was written below his signature.

I was so embarrassed downing those two doubles in that short a time was not only a bad idea but also ruined my chances with Mark, who proved he was a real gentleman. He had carried me from the car to his bedroom and let me sleep it off when he could have just as quickly stripped me naked and had his way with me.

I folded his note carefully and hid it away in my purse. I'd certainly be calling him to at least thank him for taking care of me.

It was just past six when I arrived home, still feeling a little buzzed and very horny. Barry was in the kitchen making a sandwich as I entered from the garage.

"Hi, babe," Barry said, working on his sandwich.

"Hello, Barry, how were the games?" I asked.

He looked up from the counter and answered. "The first one was great. State won on a last-second field goal, but the second game is a blowout."

Barry kept looking at me, his eyes tracking down over my form. "You look hot today, Margaret, he commented.

"Why, thanks, baby," I replied, smiling at him and feeling good that he had noticed my sexy white outfit.

He picked up his plate and pulled a beer from the frig, and headed downstairs to watch the end of the game. I stood there in the kitchen for a few minutes, considering the events of that afternoon. Had I not thrown down that second Drambuie, I'd most likely have come home sexually satisfied after an afternoon of steamy sex with Mark. But I had that second drink and instead came home embarrassed and still in need of sexual gratification.

"Well, Peggy, you have two choices. Head upstairs and satisfy yourself, or head downstairs and try to seduce Mr. Pig Skin into foregoing the rest of the second game,” I thought.

I opted for the latter, and as I descended into Barry's man cave, I undid the fourth button on my blouse, exposing all of my cleavage and the tiny lace-covered clasp of my bra.

"Hi there, Margaret. Did you decide to come and watch the rest of the game with me?" Barry asked without looking away from the television.

I stepped into his line of sight and placed my hands on my hips. "Barry, I thought I'd come down and create my own blowout," I said.

From his overstuffed leather chair, Barry's eyes scanned down over my form. He licked his lips while I slowly undid the fifth and sixth buttons of my blouse and slipped the silky fabric off my shoulders. My blouse fell to the floor in a puddle of silk, and I'm sure that had the men in striped shirts been there, I'd have been flagged for illegal motion as I closed the distance between myself and my husband sitting in his chair.

I slipped one leg between his and pushed sideways. Barry spread his legs and asked. "If you're trying to distract me, Margaret, it's working," Barry commented.

I smiled and slid my hands to the waistband of my slacks. Undoing the clasp, I turned around and slowly peeled the white material over my ass, exposing my perfectly tanned ass cheeks and the minuscule creamy lines where my thong had protected my flesh from the sun.

I held the waistband of my slacks and bent at the waist until my garment was pooled on the floor around my shoes.

Stepping out of my slacks, I placed my feet further apart and slowly straightened up, sliding my spread-fingered hands up the back of my legs until they crossed my ass.

Turning again to face my husband, I leaned forward and jiggled my tits for him. He loves when I tease him with my tits, and I gave my shoulders an extra shake making sure I wasn't going to lose his attention.

Barry grinned and asked. "And exactly what did you have in mind, Margaret?"

I knelt between his legs and placed one forearm on each thigh. "How about a little unsportsmanlike conduct?" I asked.

Barry smiled and lifted his plate from his lap, placing it on the end table beside his big leather chair. His hands came to rest on the wide armrests, and his eyes concentrated on me instead of the gridiron action on the big screen behind me.

I slid my hands in unison up the inside of his thighs, and Barry reacted by sliding a little front on the seat. One delicate hand found a growing bulge in his trousers, which I slowly massaged under the fabric.

His cock swelled under my gentle massage, tenting his trousers in front.

"How about a different kind of blowout?" I asked as my deft fingers undid the belt buckle and waist button of his slacks.

Barry smiled and said. "You have my undivided attention, Margaret."

I pulled the tiny zipper tab down and slipped one hand inside. "You won't penalize me for illegal use of hands, will you, baby?"

"Not a chance, Margaret," Barry said as he lifted his hips and pushed his pants down to his knees.

My husband's cock isn't what I'd call huge when erect it’s a little over five inches; however, when aroused, his cock becomes so very hard, and what it may lack in length, it makes up for in girth. When he fucks me, it stretches my pussy tightly around it, and that taut flesh massages the flaring corona and shaft each time he thrusts inside me.

As I slowly stroked him through the fabric of his undershorts, his cock responded like always, swelling and hardening to a full erection.

I released my grip and slipped one hand under the material. His erection was complete; I circled his cock with my soft fingers and stroked him several times, skin to throbbing skin.

"That feels so nice, Margaret," Barry whispered.

I love feeling his cock pulsing in my hand and wanted to massage his balls with my other hand, watching him twitch as my skillful fingers pleasured his cock.

"Lift a little, Barry," I suggested.

Barry did so, and I slipped his underwear off his hips, pulling them along his thighs until I gathered his slacks and peeled both garments down to his ankles.

I slipped his loafers off, and he lifted his feet so I could brush his clothes to the side.

"God, you're so sexy!" Barry said as I slowly ran the tips of my fingernails up his legs and along the inside of his thighs.

Goosebumps instantly rose on his naked flesh. I looked up into his eyes, knowing he'd be watching my every move.

I used my nails to tease the flesh covering his balls which, as usual, were pulled taut on either side of his erect cock. Barely touching the pulsing shaft, I spider-walked my nails along its length until I reached the bulging cock head.

Barry's eyes were glued to mine, with his erect cock the only thing in our line of sight.

I love stroking his hard-on, watching his expression change as my soft fingers and palms move over the head across the wide corona and down the shaft to his balls.

One hand cupped those cum filled balls while the other moved expertly up and down the length of his swollen cock. "That feels so good, Margaret," Barry said.

But I knew what felt even better and what Barry always waited for as I teased his cock with my hands. What he loves most is for me to lean forward and capture his swollen cock between my tits and then dry hump him with their soft, firm flesh.

As I slowly stroked him with my hands, I smiled and asked. "You want this hard cock between my tits, don't you, baby?"

Barry nodded yes and moved his hands from the chair's arms to my shoulders, gently pulling me toward him.

I released his cock and slid my hands to cup both full tits, my thumbs gently massaging my erect nipples through the lacy fabric. Barry pulled a little firmer on my shoulders.

I smiled at him knowing he couldn't wait to feel his cock slip between the twin orbs of pleasure that he'd paid nearly five grand for.

Leaning forward even more, I ended his wait, pressing his pulsing cock between my tits and into the soft, warm tight cleavage. His cock surged its underside sliding over the lacy clasp that still held my bra tightly in place.

I slowly began dry humping his cock, letting it slide across the crack between my tits, and every couple of times I rose, I'd press him deeper into the soft, warm flesh.

His eyes were as big as saucers, and he stared intently at my chest as I moved his prizes up and down on the hot pulsing cock meat.

Stepping up my tease a notch, I pulled back and used deft fingers to undo the clasp that held my breasts firmly in place.

Barry smiled as the lacy material parted, revealing my erect nipples and perfectly round pink areola.

I again cupped both tits and used my thumbs to entice the taut nipples as Barry slid one hand to his cock shaft and slowly stroked himself.

As I leaned forward again, I tucked my chin against my neck and spat between my tits, coating the deep cleavage with moisture.

Barry pressed his cock toward that slippery flesh, and as it nestled there, I pushed my tits together, capturing his throbbing cock.

"Oh, yeah!" Barry exclaimed as I moved my tits up and down, smearing my saliva over his entire shaft and flaring cock head.

Barry again rested his hands on the broad arms of his leather chair, and his eyes were glued to the vision of sensuality kneeling before him.

I began slowly raising and dropping down, using my full breasts and slippery cleavage to pleasure my husband's throbbing cock.

He almost involuntarily began thrusting up as I dropped down, causing the blood-engorged cock head and soft flaring corona to pop out from between my tits.

"You love fucking my tits, don't you, baby?" I asked.

Barry instantly replied. "You know I do, Margaret."

I spoke again. "Are you gonna fuck my hot MILF pussy too?"

Barry knew of the acronym but had never heard me use it.

"Yes, I'm going to fuck your hot MILF pussy, Margaret," Barry replied.

I released my tits and let him slide through my cleavage, spreading my tits apart with his cock, then grasped its slippery length and slapped the head against one sensitive nipple, then the other, coating them both with warm saliva.

"I wanna be on top, baby," I said as I straightened up and stood.

I especially like being on top. It gives Barry free use of his hands to caress and massage my breasts and taut nipples, and I can cup their fullness and lift them to his lips. Barry's cock fits inside me best when I sit on it and ride him. When I do, his girth spreads me wide open, and the rock-hard shaft rubs over my clit each time I plunge on his fat cock. My orgasms are more intense, and quite frequently, I've climaxed multiple times when we fuck in that position.

Barry closed his legs and grasped his aching cock as I stood and quickly removed my lacy thong.

Moving toward him, I placed one knee on the leather arm of his chair and then slowly moved above his loins, putting the other on the opposite arm.

Barry looked beyond his saliva-coated cock to examine the glistening lips of my pussy. As I began lowering my loins toward his pulsing cock those glistening lips spread apart. The lower I went, the wider the gap between them grew.

His hand guided the head toward its target. My hands were resting on the top of my thighs, and as soon as he felt the searing heat of my pussy begin to surround him, he released his grip and let me plunge over his throbbing fat cock.

"Hmm," We both moaned in unison as he filled me.

My flesh spread, and I dropped entirely upon him; I felt his rock-hard shaft press against my equally hard clit. With it pressed tightly against the curly patch of pubic hair above his shaft, I slowly began to grind back and forth, massaging my clit against the fat hard cock meat.

Barry and I have fucked many times before in this chair, and I knew that once he was buried deep inside me, I could reach forward and place my hands on either side of his head, bringing my tits to his lips.

His hands slid from my hips where they had been resting as I rose and plunged on his fat cock to cup both tits and draw one erect nipple to his lips.

I moaned deeply as my husband suckled the taut flesh, then kissed his way through my cleavage to suckle and lick at the other. While his lips pleasured one nipple, his hand massaged the other.

We always fuck slowly, giving our bodies time to become fully in tune with one another. I move my hips up and down as slowly as possible, then grind my clit against my lover each time he's buried deep inside. My body became even more sensitive as I approached orgasm, and I slowly started feeling the incredible tingling in my loins as Barry's fat cock and soft lips had the desired effect on me.

Tiny spirals of pleasure radiated from my pussy, and I pressed my chest toward his mouth as he continued licking, sucking, and occasionally nibbling at my taut nipples.

I lowered my lips to his ear and whispered, "You're gonna make me cum.”

His suckling grew more intense, and I ground my clit hard against him as a spear of pleasure shot up my spine, signaling the beginning of an astonishing climax.

"Oh, God!" I exclaimed as the full force of my orgasm hit me.

Barry sucked hard on one nipple sending even more spears toward my brain.

"Yes, baby, yes!" I screamed as I rode his beautiful fat cock to the peak of sexual pleasure and beyond.

"Fuck me, Barry!" I exclaimed.

His hands released my tits and slid again to my hips, and my wonderful husband began thrusting up off his chair to meet each sensual plunge I made over his fat throbbing cock.

Again and again, he drove his hard cock up into my twitching pussy. It's searing hot folds of flesh now bathing his pulsing cock with climatic juices.

Perhaps it was because we hadn't made love for several days or maybe because I had almost fucked another man earlier in the day, but for whatever reason, my orgasm was one of the most intense I could ever recall.

Tiny beads of sweat appeared on our bodies, and I leaned forward, crushing my chest against him and burying my face in his neck.

Finally, after what felt like hours, my orgasm subsided, and I was left a twitching mass of completely spent, soaking-wet flesh mounted on my glorious husband's still rock-hard cock.

Barry held me tightly against him, my heaving breasts pressed against his sweaty chest. Our sopping wet loins mashed together. His hands slowly massaged my back, and I kissed his neck over and over.

My breathing returned to normal, and I planted soft kisses on his neck and ears until he turned his lips to my ear and whispered. "Please suck me off, Margaret."

Barry is the only man who has ever cum in my mouth, and to be honest, I find his cum somewhat distasteful. Its thick consistency and very salty flavor almost always make me gag as I try to swallow his cum load.

But my wonderful husband had just given me the climax of a lifetime, and I was not going to disappoint him by not giving him what he wanted most.

I rose and let his fat cock slip from the searing depths of my pussy. He smiled as it created a popping sound and then flopped against his abdomen.

I slid off his leather chair and between his thighs as he spread himself wide open for me.

My hand captured his glistening cock coated with the fuck juices that I was sure were dripping from me onto the carpet between my thighs.

I licked my soft, warm lips with the tip of my tongue, moistening them to accept his throbbing fat cock.

Dropping deeper on my haunches, Barry's throbbing glistening cock stood erect between my face and his lustful stare.

Without speaking, I extended my tongue until the tip made contact with his ball sack.

"Lick it!" Barry pleaded.

I ran the tip of my tongue from his scrotum along the bulge of his urethra and over the tiny sensitive patch of flesh where his corona blends into his cock shaft and then circled the corona with smaller and smaller circles up over the flaring head to the tiny slit that would be shooting his thick cum into my mouth very soon.

His cock tasted like my pussy, a sweet musky taste only a woman's body can produce. I licked him clean of my taste before rising and taking the tip of his cock between my lips.

While I find Barry's cum somewhat distasteful, I love having his cock in my mouth. I love how its girth stretches my lips and the feel of his corona slipping between my soft lips and over my tongue. Barry's cock fills my mouth but doesn't have the length to force its way beyond and into my throat. I've heard of women who can swallow nine or ten inches of cock meat, forcing it deep down their throats, and I often wondered if I would be able to perform that incredible oral feat.

As I lowered my mouth over him and closed my lips tightly around the head just above the corona, Barry moaned and said. "Suck it!"

My lips spread to accept his widest part, the smooth sensitive corona, and after I had his entire head inside, I lowered my mouth over the rest of his fat cock.

He groaned deeply as my upper lip and nose pressed into this pubic mound. I found a way to slip my tongue between the bulge of his urethra, and my stretched lower lip to lick at his balls while I held him entirely inside my hot, wet mouth.

"God, Margaret, I love it when you take me completely like that," Barry exclaimed.

My saliva glands produced what felt like buckets of spit, and as I rose and he slipped from my mouth the first time, a thick string of saliva stretched from my tongue to the tip of his fat cock.

I pursed my lips and sucked that spit back into my mouth while I dropped my mouth over him again.

Once again, my nose was buried in his pubic hair, and I even pressed harder, trying to force him deeper toward my throat.

Barry groaned deeply as I tried to swallow even more of his fat throbbing cock.

I began alternating, taking him deeply in my mouth with just holding the head between my lips and sucking hard on it while stroking the exposed shaft with my long delicate fingers.

"God damn, Margaret, what's gotten into you tonight?" Barry exclaimed, clearly realizing I was trying some new oral techniques on his wonderful fat cock.

I let him slip from my mouth, and grinning with his glistening cock resting against my lips, I said. "Just trying to be a good MILF cock sucker baby."

I stroked his cock shaft slowly with my fingers while circling the smooth flesh of his corona with the flat wide part of my tongue.

"You gonna cum for me?" I questioned him.

After being married for fourteen years, you get to know your man. You learn when he's about to cum. You discover that when his breathing starts to come in short gasps when his balls pull up even tighter to his cock shaft when the head turns a deep dark purple color engorged with pulsing blood. When that first tiny droplet of pre cum oozes from his cock head, you know he's getting close.

I smeared that droplet of semen across his cock head with my tongue and took him inside.

"Suck it, Margaret!" Barry begged.

My cheeks drew inward as I applied intense sucking pressure to his fat cock head. My hand became a blur of movement as I stroked his rock-hard cock shaft pumping his thick salty cum from his balls.

"That's it, baby...I'm cumming!" Barry screamed.

One more stroke with my fist, and he shot a thick, very salty-tasting load of cum in my mouth. It splashed against the back of my throat, and try as I might, I couldn't stop the gag reflex. I pulled his fat cock from my mouth, and thick cum oozed off my tongue and over my lip, streaming down and dripping from my chin.

"Jerk it, baby!" Barry pleaded.

I held him directly in front of my face and jerked his cock feverishly. Another shot of sticky thick cum shot out of the tiny slit, splashing down over the pulsing head and my surrounding fingers.

"That's it, Margaret, jerk it just like that." He begged.

His cum oozed from him, making his cock slippery and sticky at the same time.

I slowed the rhythm of my hand and began smearing his thick cum all over his cock and balls.

"Oh baby, you made me cum so hard," Barry said.

I smiled and leaned forward, giving his sticky cum coated cock a gentle kiss.

"I love sucking your cock, Barry. I just wish I could get used to the consistency and taste of your cum." I said. "I'd love to be able to swallow your entire cum load," I added.

"Don't worry, Margaret, you do just fine," Barry said, trying to make me feel better.

"I read something in Cosmopolitan about how to improve the taste of cum, but the first two things it said was to cut out alcohol and caffeine. I couldn't ask you to give up either, just so your cum tastes better." I said.

Barry smiled and again said. "Margaret, please don't worry about it. To me, it's more erotic having you stroke me through my climax. I love the expression on your face as you watch me cum."

"Thanks, baby," I replied as I stood up. "Now, let's get you cleaned up," I added.

I went into the powder room and washed him from my hands, then returned with a warm wash cloth and cleansed my lover's loins. I leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth and said. Thank you, Barry. I needed that."

He smiled and replied. "Me too, Margaret."

I slipped my thong back on and sat down on the arm of his chair. "I'll let you enjoy the rest of the game, baby."

"Thanks, Margaret. I'll be up to bed as soon as the game ends,” Barry said.

I gathered up my things and headed off to bed. As I waited to fall asleep, I pondered my situation. Barry clearly could be distracted enough to pay me some attention, at least tonight. I doubted I would be as successful when the pro games were on. Perhaps I would go slower with my cock hunt and see if my wonderful husband came around.

Barry never made it upstairs; he fell asleep in his chair watching highlights on Sports Center.