Fun Facts about Fucking - Sex Stories

Fun Facts about Fucking

Way back in the middle of the last century, my wife and I would usually spend part of the summer renting a beach house with some friends. I remember this one year when things started out pretty rosy but went to hell when the weather turned into something awful. First it rained buckets. Then the temperatures dropped so much that it felt more like October than July. Most of our house mates wound up heading back to the city rather than slugging it out with the weather. Our friend David was the one exception who decided to stick around and keep us company. It wasn't long until bored as he was, he developed a predilection for checking out my wife Lisa in the bathing suit that she seemed to always be wearing around the house, cold temperatures be damned. This was the notorious one that had previously inspired so many side eyed glances from the other ladies in the house. Cut dangerously high at the crotch, low at the bust and almost a thong in the back, she had a great figure and this thing looked like it was custom made to show off her every curve and nuance.

Frustrated with not being able to get to the beach Lisa took a day off to do some shopping in town. Dave and me stayed behind, sleeping in late to try and defuse the effects of too much alcohol and the endless rounds of poker we were using to kill the time. He came down from his room as I was nursing a cup of coffee and watching highlights from the Tour de France.

I watched him scan around all the rooms in the house and ...

... read the disappointment on his face as he realized that Lisa was nowhere to be found.

"Shopping..." I said.

"Was I that obvious?" he replied. His face looking like a kid that just lost their favorite toy.

"Yeah. She'll be back in a few hours. Grab a coffee and join me."

I couldn't blame him. I was always aware of the effect my wife had on men and how she seemed to always inspire cocks to grow and turn hard. Restricted and bored shitless by the weather, I completely understood how much her cute little bum sashaying around the room must have cheered him up.

I lit up a joint and passed it over to him.

He looked surprised. "Really? It's barely past 9am."

"Look, any other day we'd be on NJ Transit, crawling into Penn station and obsessed with the new business pitches that were ahead of us for the week. There'll be plenty of time to get back to that." For now though, with my lungs inflated with a healthy volume of marijuana smoke, I struggled to find the right words.

"... fuck it."

It didn't take much to convince him. He took a deep drag and passed it back to me. On screen, Greg LeMond and Bernard Hinault were going head to head, sweating crystalline bullets on their way up the Pyrenees.

"Looks like you seem to like her new bathing suit... as much as the girls seem to hate it?"

What do kids look like when they're caught with their hands in the cookie jar? That's the expression he had on his face.

I put him at ease. "It's OK. I get it. She looks ...