The year was 1995, I had just turned thirty-two, still lived a bit of a free-for-all lifestyle. My wife M, not the most graceful person at times and not an athlete, she had decided to try skiing for the first time. I was shocked but happy.
I went skiing every winter, and though M had joined me on occasion, she was usually the quintessential chalet bunny. She would stay back at the resort, sit in her cute little outfits and basically drink warm winter refreshments all day.
On this particular holiday, however she had decided at thirty years old, it was time to join in on the fun. I took her to the local specialty store, Peter Glenn Ski & Sports, at the Galleria near where we live. We purchased her some terrific Rossignol skis and boots along with all of the accessories. She would look like a pro at least.
Though Atlanta is not a snow mecca, we do have a great amount of people in ski clubs here. Therefore, we happen to have some indoor simulators for taking ski lessons. I set M up with a ten week package so that she would hopefully not look too bad on the slopes when we got to Colorado later in the winter.
As the lessons progressed, she became quite enthusiastic about the trip. Finally, we would be able to share the fun together for a change. All was going well; her lessons were fresh in her mind as the trip was approaching quickly.
We arrived in Vail on December 29, early in the afternoon, relaxed as the five couples all gathered for a nice late lunch. We had some nice drinks and hashed out the daily schedule slope schedule as some were better skiers than others; we did not want anyone skiing alone.
The next day we all geared up, and each group boarded the gondolas to our designated slopes. I went to the back bowls with a couple of the guys, and M went to the trails where they had a beginner and intermediate slopes. The guys and I started our first run; the weather was beautiful and the snow powdery. You just could not ask for a better day.
As we were ending our second run and entering the chalet, one of the hotel attendants ran up to us and asked our names. When I responded, he said to me, “Your wife has been taken to the hospital, she had a tragic fall, and it looks as if she had broken her leg.”
I immediately arranged a ride to the hospital and was off.
On my arrival at the hospital, the doctor who was doing her surgery to repair her femur and fibula, came and met with me. I was in shock; two bones broken and the doctor told me, “She is going to be immobile for quite a while. You are going to need someone that can take care of her for a four to six weeks as she will be unable to perform any activity unassisted.”
I made it to her room after she was out of recovery. She was very groggy but somewhat coherent, I asked, “Hey baby, how are you?” A dumbass question, but I did not know what else to say. Because of me, and my desire to see her ski, this happened. The guilt just flooded my brain.
The drugs however must have been good; she just smiled, motioned me to her and said, in a garbled voice, “I love you, I will be okay.”
I got on my cell and made arrangements with Delta to change our tickets and have a wheelchair ready on demand when we arrived for our trip home. I spoke with the doctor, and he said, “We could fly home the next day, she needed to stay overnight, however, for observation.”
On our arrival in Atlanta, I had already made arrangements for M to stay with her mother. She had a very large house with six bedrooms, but most importantly, a guest suite on the main floor. Mrs. A is a widow, retired and fifty-three, her husband had been an engineer for Lockheed and she had been well-taken care of after his death eight years earlier.
I got M to the house; Mrs. A had already prepared the room, picked up her meds from the pharmacy and gone to our house, not far away, to retrieve some clothes for M. She truly loved her children and was a great in-law as well.
We both got M settled, leg propped up, gave her the remote for the TV, and we let her get some rest. The drugs were quick reacting, and after the flight she was exhausted. I kissed her softly on the lips and said, “I love you, sleep well.”
Mrs. A and I left the room, and she asked, “Would you like some tea or coffee and maybe a bite to eat?”
I responded back, “That would be great, but I can get it, don’t worry yourself please, you are going to have your hands full with M for the next four weeks you know.”
Mrs. A said, “Look, after the holidays I know you are going back to work, so why don’t you stay in the guest suite upstairs, it's a big house, and there is no one here but me. The company would be nice for a change.”
I contemplated the idea as she was preparing a sandwich and a drink for me. I thought it out, and realized I would be at the house every night until M could return home, so it was a smart suggestion.
I looked at Mrs. A and said, “Thank you for the offer, it would probably be the best thing and that way I can help with M in the evening, I will bring a few clothes over, and just run by the house each day on my way here for the mail.”
Now, Mrs. A as I said is fifty-three and has kept herself very well. She is about five-three, hundred thirty pounds, and very large natural D cup breast. I had always considered her attractive, especially knowing that M was going to be a lovely lady later in life. But I had never had any other type of thought about Mrs. A, other than she was a wonderful in-law.
As it was getting late in the evening, and the flight being a good five hours; I was beginning to tire myself and told Mrs. A, “I think I might take a shower to freshen up, and then head off to bed. It looked as though M would sleep through the night.”
It felt strange as I was beginning to undress and prepare for a shower as I had only stayed there on occasion, and only when Mrs. A was traveling. But, I had this end of the house all to myself, so I tried to get over the awkwardness I was feeling.
The water had warmed and was steaming the room, so I opened the clear glass door and stepped into the shower. It felt refreshing after a long couple of days, so I just allowed the water to roll down my body as I reflected on everything that had happened.
The shower was one of those spectacular four head showers that ensures water is massaging every body part, and I must admit it began to feel good. More than good, it felt great, so good in fact, I felt some stirrings in my loin. I reached down and stroked my cock, knowing my best friend, for a while, was attached to my wrist.
As I was stroking my cock, eyes shut reveling in the sensation, I heard a noise and was startled back into reality by a voice saying, “Oh my! I... I... excuse me, I am so sorry, I was bringing some towels I had forgotten to lay out, and the door was open.”
I just stood there; Mrs. A starring, no words for a moment as she stared at my erect cock. Finally, I broke the silence and said, "We have one of two options here, either you can give me the towels, and I can finish my shower or, you can come in and wash my back.”
I do not know exactly what had overcome me to say that, maybe it was the jet lag talking, I have no clue. But in the next moment we were going to find out. Mrs. A was down to her panties and bra, and would soon be joining me in the shower.
As she entered the shower, she grabbed my cock and just dropped to her knees and started blowing me. And she knew what she was doing, she needed to give lessons to her daughter. I told her, “Mrs. A, if you keep that up, I am going to erupt in a big way.” She just continued on.
In a few seconds, I blew a load of cum so large I thought she might drown, but she just continued fellating me deep in her throat until I was all cleaned up.
She looked up at me as she stroked my cock and said, “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that. I have not been with a man since Mr. A died, and every time you come around I just am so jealous that M gets to have you anytime she wants.”
I offered a hand to stand up, and she kissed me with an eagerness that made me realize this may turn into a very long night and extremely comfortable situation for the next few weeks.
As we kissed I began to touch her body. I wasted no time in grabbing one of those breasts, and though a bit of a sag had set in, for her age and the size, they were still great. I squeezed them and rubbed the nipples as they had become as hard as an eraser. Finally, I broke our kiss, leaned down, and took one of those beautiful breasts to my lips.
Little moans began to escape from Mrs. A’s mouth and then she said, “Yes, please do not stop. God this feels incredible it has been so long. Reach down and touch me, please.”
I said, “Where do you want me to touch you?”
She responded back shyly, “Down there, please.”
I said back, “Be a little nasty, tell me what you want, I will do it, but I want to hear the words.”
Mrs. A responded, “Fine, I want you to touch my cunt, I want you to eat my pussy, and then... then, I want you to fuck the ever loving hell out of me. Is that graphic enough?”
With that, I reached between her legs and stroked down through her labia, feeling the generous amount of fur covering her mound, though not overgrown, just not as trimmed as many younger women. Her pussy was, if possible, wetter than the shower. A smooth slickness that was warm and I am sure was going to taste so good.
I began kissing her again as I slid a finger into the tightest pussy I could remember in a long time. I guess things do get better over time when put on a shelf. She just moaned inaudibly, and I said, “That fucking cunt is going to love the things I am going to do tonight!”
I reached behind me and turned the water off as I tried to plunge a second finger into her. Her moans just increased not only in volume but length as well. Finally, she almost collapsed as the wave of her first orgasm splashed into my hand. I had to hold her literally up as her legs weakened.
I kissed her slowly again and gave her a hug as we rejoiced in each other’s pleasure for a moment. Then I opened the shower door, stepped out and grabbed the towels. I looked at her in a whole new light and realized how beautiful she was, and how lucky I was.
We dried off together, slowly, kissing and touching a bit. Then she looked up at me, stared in my eyes and asked with a bit of trepidation in her voice, “That is not it I hope?”
I looked at her and said, “You are fucking kidding me right, I am not going to waste my chance of at least one good fuck in that tight cunt of yours.”
I dropped my towel, my hard-on standing straight ahead, she looked at it and gave a tug toward the bedroom. I followed right behind her.
Once in the bedroom, she turned around and kissed me soft and sweet. I again started touching her and was amazed at the amount of pussy lube she was producing. I pushed her toward the bed, she fell back, and I just went straight to the meal for champions.
I parted her bush a bit, and immediately saw her engorged clit; it must have been a quarter inch long, bright pink, and totally exposed from its little hood. I just had to take it in my mouth and suckle it for a moment sending Mrs. A into a spiral, grabbing my head and just pushing it into her whole pussy.
Thank god we were on the whole opposite end of the house from where M was sleeping. Otherwise, she may have been brought out of the drug induced sleep. This bitch was vocal and loud.
Her whole body began to quiver and shake and all of a sudden she just let go. She had an orgasm even bigger than her previous earlier in the shower. She was panting, her chest just raising and lowering, and a giant smile was on her face.
I looked at her for a moment, stroked her breast and leaned in to suck on the nipple. She started moaning again, and I asked her, “Are you ready?”
She looked at me and growled, “Fuck me, fuck me hard in every way possible please give me that fucking hard cock now.”
I asked her, “What position do you want first?”
She answered back, “On my knees, I always loved it that way.”
She got on her knees, and I slapped that little muffin softly a few times and then leaned in for a little taste of that rosebud that had been hidden from view all night. She just started moaning all again, and she was yelling, “Jesus, I have never had my asshole licked before, and I love it.”
I just continued to lick that sweet little ass for a bit longer; then I raised up, put my cockhead to that tight little pussy and just pushed forward.
She began screaming, “Fuck me, fuck me with that big fat cock. Fuck me like you would M, but Jesus just give it to me now!”
To be continued…
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