"Oh God! You're something else, Ali."
The raindrop effect from the power shower splattered against Andy's face as Alison sucked him off lovingly. She was on her knees, milking the thick eight inches, taking large gulps, gyrating the cock as the veins stood out, the head wanting to break free from the foreskin.
Alison gave him sex on demand, she didn't want to hurt his ego. The couple fucked like rabbits, but owing to a rare condition, Andy had zero sperm count, and it was extremely unlikely that he would ever fertilise Alison's womb.
Alison encouraged him to think positively as she teased him lovingly, which resulted in Andy fucking her constantly whenever he got back from his work.
Andy gripped the railings of the shower cubicle, tightly as the contractions of ejaculation began to bear fruit. His bollocks shuddered, the scrotum shrinking as the warm sticky fluid sent projectiles of affectionate love to his beloveds mouth.
"God Ali! God, I love you so much," he whimpered as he felt his knees giving way.
After breakfast, they exchanged gentle kisses as Ali saw him to the door.
"Are you sure you're okay about staying there, miles away, from friends?" enquired Andy with genuine care.
"It'll be fine, you're away with work, and I'm working online; Harold is a lovely dear man, we'll be fine, honestly.
"If you're sure then, love, I'll see you there," he finished as he left the house.
Harold was their old University Professor, now retired and taking respite, following major surgery of the testicles. He had a large muscular frame but wasn't good looking at all; merely a beefy boffin. Harold lived alone now since the demise if his dear wife some years earlier. Both Andy and Alison kept in touch with Harold over the years and visited him as much as possible.
Alison made herself at home in the large country house, working online and socialising with her host.
"Perfect evening for drinks on the terrace," commented Harold as he beckoned Alison towards the patio.
I'll just fetch the drinks, you just relax my dear," he added, before coming back with a tray of drinks.
"Absolutely splendid weather," continued Harold as he poured Gin and Tonic.
Harold was dressed in a beautiful short floral dress with thin straps at the top, a straw hat and ladies sandals. Harold's muscular macho body contrasted elegantly with the attire.
After general chat, the evening began to draw in as a cool breeze brought Alison out in goose pimples. Several Gins also helped to relax her inhibitions.
"I would've thought you young chaps might have started a family by now," remarked Harold.
"The medicine is not showing any progress so far, but we are trying very hard, Harold," she replied with slight sadness in her eyes and longing in her voice.
"That's the spirit, old girl," retorted Harold as he clasped her hand.
The warmth of Harold's hand gave Alison a secure feeling, a secure feeling of being understood, a secure feeling that no one was blaming her, the security of being in safe hands.
The cool evening breeze, combined with Gin, began to open the inhibitions further as Alison placed her other hand on top of Harold's.
Alison stroked his hairy hand, lovingly and gently, as their gaze became transfixed for the longest time that evening.
Alison found Harold squeezing her hand more tightly, to the point that she couldn't let go, even if she had the desire to let go.
Alison experienced a warm glow in her stomach, as the evening wanted to bid goodnight to folk. The gentle breeze was blowing Alison's hair over her face, the cold air kissing her bare legs and sweeping through her naked toes.
She noticed Harold's hairy legs and arms as the hair began to stand on edge. He tilted slightly in her direction, as his folded legs, with the thick calf muscles, shuffled. His other hand was firmly on her thigh, as the warm glow in her naval was prompting her to take solace in the manly figure.
Tring, tring....the phone began to ring, as Alison backed away, slightly embarrassed and slightly overcome.
"Ah, Paul, good of you to call," started Harold as Alison began to clear the things away.
"What am I doing? What would he think of me? I'm such a fool," Alison told herself.
After clearing the things away with a tear in her eye, Alison decided to head off to bed with the desolate lonely desires of a wanton mother. Harold was laughing heartily, utterly consumed by Paul's conversation, not once did he check on Alison or even look at her through the French doors.
Alison kicked off her sandals, pulled the dress over her head, and removed her knickers, the gusset moist with the aroma of woman, but not a fertilised woman, alas. The titties lusciously soft; liberated from the need of a bra.
She sniffed and kissed her panties, a gesture in remembrance of Andy rather than her own kink.
She lay sprawled across the bed, stark bollock naked, her painted toes shining in the moonlight, the nipples standing pert with the cold wind, her small natural tits flopped to the sides of her slightly sweaty shaven armpits.
The goose pimples on her legs sending tingles through her spine as the bum fluff on her sensuous body stood to attention.
She had a handsome man fucking her on demand, but the inherent want of motherhood was eating her up, as she lay in the complete darkness.
"Ali, Ali," came the voice from the hallway, as she had left the door open.
"Oh thank God, you're back, Andy," she sighed, in a half drowsy state.
Alison was relieved to see the silhouetted figure entering, taking gentle steps as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Every thing's going to be fine, Ali, everything's going to be okay," he whispered as he held Alison close to his chest.
Tears were rolling down Alison's cheeks; she sobbed, releasing some of the pent up tension, her soft body pressing erotically against his muscular frame, the nipples reaching arousal from his hairy chest. His large hands stroked her back, sending tingling sensations through her spinal cord as he kissed her, very gently and slowly, on the lips.
Alison sighed with relief as his lips moistened hers, moistening her already moist succulent cunt.
Harold was holding her, close to his chest, comforting her, and gently kissing her head. He was still in his dress. The warmth of his juniper breath sending a calming aroma, striking Alison's bodily chemistry. She held him tightly, oblivious to her naked state.
Harold kissed her tears, sloppily, as his own saliva made her cheeks wetter. He kissed her hard as she fumbled for his mouth. He sniffed her armpits, fingered her toes between the arches as his breathing became more intense.
It was like having Andy inside her, the thick cock wanting to make an impression. Harold pumped her moist succulent cunt tenderly while comforting her throughout the insemination. He lifted his dress upto his chest as he pulled his French silk knickers just below his waistline.
Alison could feel his hairy bollocks slapping her soft supple arse with the thrusts of lusty intercourse.
She clenched his buttock cheeks as he bounced up and down between her silky smooth soft legs. She tugged on his panties, drawing him closer, as her vagina began to dictate events. She stroked his back, the floral dress; soft, clingy, and aromatic.
She felt elated, ecstatic, and overwhelmed; being fucked by a senior citizen in a dress was no small matter. Her mind began to flip back to college days; the auditorium, Harold in his three piece pin striped suit, but with silk stockings, knickers, garter and suspenders, all belonging to his wife.
"Shush now, shush now, honey, I've got you now, honey," he kept assuring her throughout.
Ali's cunt licked the seed up, drop by drop, as her womb feasted on the elixir of life, having a thundering orgasm; natures way of procuring reproduction.
That night, Andy turned up unexpectedly. He was surprised to see what he saw. Alison was lying spread eagle, stark bollock naked, slightly intoxicated and very welcoming.
Andy fucked her passionately. He hadn't seen her for days. He had decided to abstain from the call girls, wanting to take his cock's frustration out on Ali.
"Yes, yes," she cried as she spat heavily onto his already soaking dong.
Andy shot his load rather quickly as he licked her up and down.
Nine months later, Alison gave birth to a beautiful daughter, Kate; she didn't know whose seed Kate came from.
The medicine probably worked; it's not impossible.
Whenever Alison, Kate and Andy spent time with Harold in the country, Alison would tell Kate to pass something to her father; Kate always handed the items to Harold.
Children seem to be in a world of their own..........
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