A Waiter for my Wife - Sex Stories

A Waiter for my Wife

... It's the loudest he's been all evening. Each pump of hot seed pushes her further down into the mattress. Finally, they're laying still, him on top of her.

"That was great," she says. "Sometimes I just need someone young enough to pump some life back into me."

He glances at the bedside clock and suddenly he's post-nut. "Oh, shit," he says. "I'd better get back downstairs."

We don't keep him, except that Amy leans over to straighten his collar just before he walks out. "Thanks," he says. "That was really something."

Then the door shuts and I'm left together with my wife again.

She gets on all fours, crawls to the edge of the bed, and licking her lips says, "Do you need...oh, I see you don't."

I very purposefully haven't stood up for the whole apres-coital period. She's only now seeing the state of my trousers.

"Sorry," I say.

"No," she replies. "Looks like you had fun."

"I don't need to ask if you did," I reply.

She laughs. She comes and straddles me. Her fingers reach between her legs and pull apart the lips of her pussy. As we make out, I'm very aware that the seed dripping down onto my still-exposed dick and already soiled trousers is from a man less than half my age.

We never do make it to the disco.