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Sweat

"Getting sweaty leads to a steamy backyard tryst"

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Sweat. It matted my hair, stung my eyes, and left my bare torso looking like I’d just taken a shower. I had ditched my t-shirt hours before once it was soaked. That left me wearing shorts and running shoes. Sitting down on the grass in the shade of our largest tree, I took a long swig from my water bottle and surveyed the yard. After weeks of being too busy with other stuff, I had managed to pick the hottest, muggiest day of the summer to get caught up on the yard work. In four hours, I had fixed up the shed, weeded our flower beds, cut the grass and dug out a couple dead bushes.

“Damn, you’ve been busy, Nick,” sang out my wife’s familiar voice.

I looked over to see Megan walking towards me in her tennis gear, a little white skirt with a sleeveless top that fit snugly over her large breasts. It was a sexy look, especially from my perspective on the ground. Sitting there, I could look straight at my wife’s long, muscular legs and almost see up the skirt. The fact that Megan was as sweaty as me, her blonde hair dark and matted and her skin glistening with moisture, made it even sexier. I felt a stirring in my shorts and grinned as she approached me.

“Damn, don’t you look sexy,” I responded.

“Work all day cleaning up the yard and you still have energy for that?” my wife responded.

She was standing over me now and I could see a bit of the pink thong beneath her tennis skirt. I rested a hand on Megan’s right calf and began slowly sliding it up her leg. My wife reached down and toyed with my wet hair.

“Just builds up the energy,” I said, my hand reaching her thigh, “Now I need to get rid of some of it.”

My hand kept going up under the skirt. This was getting very exciting. While a seven-foot-high privacy fence and some very tall, bushy trees made our yard very private, it had been quite a long time since we had last taken advantage of that privacy.

“I must admit that coming home to a sweaty, shirtless husband does get the juices flowing,” Megan answered, a wicked gleam in her green eyes.

Shifting to a kneeling position, I slid my other hand up my wife’s left thigh, looking up into her eyes as I stroked her damp flesh. My hands reached her bum and I dug my fingers in, giving it a good, hard squeeze.

“Ow,” Megan said loudly, then lowered her voice to go on, “But don’t stop.”

“Turn around,” I said in husky whisper, “I know what you need.”

Megan obeyed and I stood up as she turned. Lifting my wife’s tennis skirt, I gazed worshipfully on her big, toned behind. Then, holding the skirt up with one hand, I raised the other hand and brought it down on her butt cheek with a good, hard slap.

“Ah, yes,” she gasped at the sting of my strike.

More strokes followed the first, each eliciting a gasp or cry from my wife. My cock was stiff in my shorts as I tortured Megan’s big, shapely bum. I was never sure who enjoyed these spankings more, the giver or the receiver.

Grabbing the hem of Megan’s top, I pulled the garment upwards. She raised her arms to allow me to pull it off. After tossing the top aside, I undid the back clasp on my wife’s sports bra. She slipped the undergarment off, tossing it on the ground with the top. As Megan was doing that, I unzipped my shorts and pushed them down to release my aroused cock.

Pressing my body into hers from behind, I reached around and sank my fingers into my wife’s big, soft tits. I nibbled and licked Megan’s ear and neck I roughly squeezed and kneaded the mounds of flesh. Her skin tasted of sweat. As I enjoyed her body, my cock rubbed against her lower back.

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Pre-cum leaked from the tip to mix with the sweat.

“God, yes, Nick,” she moaned as I pinched her erect nipples, rolling them slowly between thumbs and forefingers.

“Like that, do you?” I hissed in Megan’s ear, “How about this?”

I moved a hand down her torso and under her skirt. When I could feel my wife’s slit through the thin fabric of the thong, I massaged it vigorously. I pushed my finger, the fabric with it, into her. Megan’s wetness soaked into the undergarment under my fingers. My wife getting wet aroused me even more. Pulling the thong aside, I penetrated her with a fingertip, then rubbed the juices on to her engorged clit. The touch of my finger on her aroused bud elicited a squeal of delight from Megan.

“Down on the ground,” I finally growled into her ear.

Megan got down on all fours with thighs open and I knelt behind her. I was highly aroused and had no time for niceties. Flipping my wife’s skirt up to expose her pussy, I pressed the head of my cock against the wet, pink opening and then ploughed into her. Megan gasped at the rapid intrusion of my thick member into her body.

I held my cock inside her for a moment or two, savouring the feeling of her soft, wet walls around it. Then I pulled back and drove it in again. A soft smack reached my ears as my body collided with Megan’s. After that, I just went for it. Holding my wife’s hips to steady her, I fucked her with fast, hard thrusts. Megan’s tits swayed beneath her and her breath came in ragged gasps as I drove my rod home time and time again.

My balls tightened and the tension in my loins swelled until, with a loud cry, I came inside my wife. My body shuddered as my cock pulsed, filling Megan with my cream. The climax lasted for what seemed like several minutes. As it subsided, I pulled free and Megan flipped on to her back with legs spread wide to expose her freshly fucked pussy. The white cream of my seed dribbled from within.

“Eat me,” she said in a desperate voice.

No further invitation was needed. I got down between Megan’s heavy thighs and lapped at her dripping puss. Our mingled flavours filled my mouth. After exploring my wife’s slit thoroughly with my tongue, I began lapping at her engorged clit. Megan had a rather large clitoris and playing with it was one of my favorite things to do. This time, though, I didn’t get to play for long. Already highly aroused, my wife came fast and hard, making a noise that fell somewhere between a groan and a cry before going limp in the grass.

Crawling up over Megan, I kissed her long and hard. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and we made out on the ground for a long time. My cock was pressing against my wife’s pussy and Megan rubbed against me until she came to second, milder, climax. Finally, I rolled off of her and sat on the ground catching my breath. Slipping my shorts completely off so that I was naked, I lay back in the grass.

“God, that was amazing,” Megan said after shedding her skirt and soiled thong. She stretched, then put her hands under her head.

“Amen. Remember the first time we fucked in the backyard?”

“Yeah,” she answered wistfully, “How could I forget? Nine months later, Tim was born.” 

Tim was our son; the eldest of our three children. He was now a husband and father himself.

We fell silent, just listening to the breeze in the trees, the birds, and each other’s breathing.

“Feel good?” Megan finally asked.

“Very,” I answered, “Still enjoying your body after thirty years, so how could I not?”

We rolled to face each other and cuddled under the afternoon sun for a while.

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