Her breasts had taken a certain dimension

Her breasts had taken a certain dimension

The summer of 1991 was an exception. One year after the tragedy that had struck us Pussy and I, I had married her after seven years of cohabitation, less than half a year of rupture quickly repaired. She had been pregnant for more than 7 months and that was fine.

Her breasts had taken a certain dimension, making more appetizing than ever are brown still are almost permanent topless specialist. Her round belly did not prevent to appreciate the majesty of his pubis always hairless and two big brown lips, fleshy and eternally ajar. When it left the bottom of the shirt or panties, it goes without saying, and it was now a little rarer than in previous years.

We were always in search of sexual sensations, obeying our libertarian impulses and our exhibitionist fantasies. But that year, I was a little more the object of these erotic games and the following episode will remain forever one of the most exciting memories that I have been given to live despite or thanks to its sobriety.

It was fine, early July. My parents-in-law, on a trip, had left us their house, in a little town on the edge of the Rouen conurbation, near the banks of the Seine. The evening before, we had organized an evening with twenty people more or less close.

Especially present were my friend Domi that night, the one with whom Pussy and I had our first experience of triolism HFF and therefore who was the initiator of my companion to sappism. She lived in La Rochelle but had just had a difficult experience and was cold with her partner. Gigi was there too, a good friend of our couple, to a degree barely less advanced, but she was accompanied by a brand new companion and a friend of theirs. Christelle, meanwhile, was the former roommate Pussy when she had punctually left me 3 years ago.

She was Métis, of medium height, but very thin, without curves. I had so far seen in a swimsuit, once in lingerie wise, during a visit to their home where I managed to iron a night with his roommate. Christelle, she had seen me only the buttocks moving but she had undoubtedly taken pictures that Pussy had of me, in all positions and without any shame. Patricia, a long-time friend, had come single.

She had known us long enough not to ignore the frequent sex games of our couple or to have seen dozens of photos of us more or less daring, but curiously, she had never been directly confronted with our nakedness or our demonstrations libidinous. Other friends, mostly male, completed the assembly.

The evening was watered and “smoky” except for my companion, pregnant to the eyes. But she was wise, in the sense that nobody – not even Pussy or me – had sketched the least draft of a sexy game or exhibition, risking too ostentatious caresses on legitimate partner or not.

When the evening ended early in the morning, only the people mentioned above were destined to sleep in the house. And again: Gigi’s companion and his friend had to be content with 2 hours of sleep to join their workstation. I woke up in the middle of the morning and went down dressed in a modest underpants fancy to take my breakfast, without seeing the slightest idea of ​​who had remained or left, and therefore unaware of my state of only male around. Innocently, I tested it ambient and discovered with pleasure that the sweetness of this morning of July was conjugated with the rays of the sun to make want to go to wallow in the grass of the garden. Once my bowl of coffee and buttered toast I swallowed, I went to the center of the garden, spread a bath towel, turned on the big radio to listen to the latest Depeche Mode, fresh out. Then I took off my pants and lay down naked on the towel.

The huge hedge of the garden protected me from the sight of the neighborhood and the passers-by, except for the few people who walked on the sidewalk where the gate allowed on 3 meters to see inside. But little passage in the neighborhood, so little risk of unwelcome voyeurs … who anyway me indifferent.

Lying on my back, I saw after a quarter of an hour Domi go out in turn in the garden. Accomplice and intimate, it did not inspire me to cover me or even to turn on my stomach. Dressed in her panties and a t-shirt, she approached with a smile and gave me a light kiss on the mouth before removing her clothes. In her panties, her generous bosom, wide hips, and feminine skin-like balance counterbalanced the masculine aspect of her short hair, athletic shoulders.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *