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It was a week since Margaret had broached the subject of our sex life, and since then it had been terrific. We had made love almost every day, just like when we first started sleeping together. Having two nearly grown up kids away at university helped that way too.

It was Saturday afternoon. Margaret was upstairs in the bathroom showering after a morning’s gardening and I was settling down in my favourite armchair to watch the cricket on television.

Margaret seemed to be taking longer than usual in the shower, but I was absorbed in the test match against the West Indies, and only registered that she had come down stairs when she stepped in front of the television. Wearing her tallest high heeled shoes, a cultured pearl necklace with matching earrings and a Swarovski crystal bracelet on each wrist.

And nothing else.

She had fully made up her face; scarlet lips, eye liner, eye shadow and a generous glow of blush on her cheeks. She rarely used makeup during the day, but the bright, exaggerated colours gave her face a wanton, tarty expression.

But it was not just her face that grabbed my attention.

It was also her bald pussy.

She must have shaved it in the shower and now she stood with her legs apart and her hips provocatively thrust forward to display her sex. Her outer lips were puffy at the best of times. She had to pick her swimsuits carefully to avoid displaying her camel toe, but the arousal of touching herself while shaving, and I suspected with a lot more than just the razer, had plumped them even more.

Licking her lips and grinning lasciviously, she reached down with her hands and splayed her inner lips, creating a gorgeous pink butterfly, and revealing the rose between. Then she turned round, bent over and reached behind. She pulled her buttocks wide apart and then adjusted her fingers to pull the labia apart with them.

“Take a good look, lover and tell me that you like what you see.”

“I love it,” I said as my cock stiffened. The cricket seemed suddenly unimportant.

Margaret stood up and turned around to face me, letting me drink in the full effect of her nudity. Her 38 inch C cup breasts rested comfortably against her chest and below them her trim belly, wide well-padded hips and a firm, rounded bottom which tapered into shapely legs. She was in her forties and had born me two children, but she kept herself in shape with yoga and exercise classes, and in extra high heels, with her tart-painted face and the parted, puffy lips of the bald sex she was flaunting at me, she was a vision of lust.

“Then turn down the sound and listen,” she commanded.

I reached for the remote.

“It’s a week since we had our little chat, and don’t get me wrong, the sex had been great since. But like I said before, I’m not going to let us get stuck back in a rut. So, for the next twenty fours you can have me as your plaything. You can ask me to do anything you want, and if it’s within reason I’ll do it. I’ll be your own personal sex toy. Same rules as we discussed though, you stop if I say so and you make me come so many times I lose count. Have we got a deal?”

“Deal,” I said. “Is that all you’re going to wear?”

“In the house, yes. I can’t exactly wear much less, I’ll probably lose the shoes when you take me to bed.”

“And if we go out?”

“Whatever you like, provided you don’t get me arrested for indecency.”

I picked up the remote again to turn off the television.

“I don’t mind if you want to watch some of the cricket,” she said, “provided you make it worthwhile for me. I’m happy to keel on the floor with my legs apart, or sit on your lap, or sit beside you provided that put those lovely hands of yours to good use on whatever part of my body you like. Just one thing though. I’m not going to have you use my holes to masturbate in while you watch the cricket, and then fall asleep on me. By tomorrow afternoon I expect to have a well fucked and sore vagina and a clit that’s been almost rubbed raw.”

“Tell you what,” I said. “How about we start like this. You kneel down here in front of me and I’ll practise some vaginal massage from the rear.” Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. “And every time the West Indies lose a wicket I’ll include two minutes of anal fingering.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, adopting the position.

She had obviously been planning this since the morning as her pussy was sopping wet when I slid my fingers inside her, and she dropped her head and moaned deeply when I turned their attention onto her clit. She had her first orgasm before the first wicket fell and willingly allowed me to slide first one and then two fingers into her anus while I continued to strum her clit with the other. It made it difficult to watch the game but I had turned on the radio commentary and she climaxed a second time to the dulcet tones of Christopher Martin Jenkins announcing the fall of another wicket.

After which she said that she needed a break to stretch her legs.

And pee.

Which gave me an idea.

“I’m coming with you,” I said.

“Of course you are darling,” she replied, taking my hand and keçiören escort leading me to the downstairs toilet.

Where she sat on the seat and spread her legs, grinning wickedly.

“Oh my God,” I thought. “Not only am I going to watch, I’m going to play with her at the same time.”

I lowered my head and French kissed her, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth. With my left hand I stroked and pinched her already rubber hard nipples and with my right I spread her pussy lips, dipped my fingers into her love honey and started to gently strum her clit.

“Piss on my hand, lover,” I whispered, breaking the kiss and looking down at my fingers working around her slit.

I continued to stroke her and she closed her eyes and made an effort to relax. Then I felt the start of the stream burst from her pee-hole, and she breathed a heavy sigh as her bladder let go and her warm, sweet smelling urine flooded over my hand. I kept my two middle fingers inside her and cupped my palm over her pussy so she could feel her own urine flooding back over her bald pubic mound and down between her legs.

When the flow had stopped I held up my dripping hand and licked it. It tasted sweet with a hint of bitter saltiness. I stroked my fingertips over her lips and she opened her mouth and sucked them.

“You see what a whore I can be, tasting my own pee?” she said, reaching for the toilet tissue.

“Don’t do that I said,” reaching back down between her legs and rubbing my wet pee-dripping hand between her thighs and over her mound and lower belly. I rubbed gently until her skin had absorbed all the urine.

“I want you to stay like that for a while,” I said. “I want to be able to smell you.”

I took her hand and lead her back to the lounge. “Assume the position and wait there a minute.” I headed towards the kitchen.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a glass of water.” A big one, I managed to drink almost a litre. And I knew how I was going to use it.

Margaret was kneeling obediently in front of my chair when I flopped down in it. I sat forward and placed my hands on her buttocks with the thumbs close to the crack. Then I pulled them aside to expose her anus.

“Drop you head onto your arms on the floor and open your legs wider” I said. “I want to try and have peak inside your arse. And then I’m going to pull you cunt lips apart so I can have a good look inside your pussy.”

“Oh you nasty man,” she giggled. “Would you not find it easier if I was on my back? Then you could do it like my gyno does.”

“You look so sexy kneeling with your arse in the air that I’ll give this a go first.”

I placed my thumbs either side of her anus and eased them apart teasing open her dark, puckered ring.

“Help me out here Maragaret,” I said. “Push out.”

I stretched while she pushed, her arsehole crowning and then opening to reveal the dark tube of her rectum. It felt so nasty and yet so good to be able to play with her arse this way and I was very tempted to stick my tongue in it, but decided to leave that for another day. Instead I licked my middle and index fingers to lubricate them and placed them on the opening. She tensed momentarily and then relaxed as I gently pushed them in. I paused the tips just inside and gently pulled them sideways distending the opening. She wriggled her bottom and there was a brief intake of breath.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, you dirty man, don’t stop unless I tell you.”

I took her at her word and slid my fingers all the way in and then crooked and twisted them around, feeling the warm, smooth, inner surface of her rectum.

“I’m going to pull them out now. But stay where you are while I wash my hand.”

When I got back from the bathroom she had placed a pillow on the floor to rest her head and had reached around behind with both hands. She had her fingers hooked into her vagina and had pulled it open.

“There you go, thought I’d make it easier for you. Have a good look up your old wife’s cunt.”

It was such a shameless, wanton display. For a moment I thought of dropping my pants and fucking her, but I restrained myself.

“Tell you what Margaret, I’ll take you up on your last offer. Hop up on the dining table on your back, pretend you’re at the gyno and do what you’re doing now, open yourself as wide as you can.”

While she climbed onto the table and pulled her knees up I went to the kitchen and fetched a torch.

“Okay, stretch yourself as wide as you can and let me see what the dirty old doctor sees when he looks inside you.”

I bent down close to her pussy, smelling her arousal and the more pungent aroma of her pee. I watched the skin stretch as she pulled her hooked fingers apart, and shone the torch into her vagina. The inner lips were coated and dripping with her juices and through the gaping opening I could see up to her cervix.

“See anyone in there you know?” She called.

“There’s enough space in there to drive a bus, you slack old tart.”

“It’s your fault, all that cock you’ve stuffed into me over the years, not to mention your two kids that forced keçiören escort bayan their way through it. Just be thankful I go to yoga.”

I straightened up, leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth and told her to take her hands away. In their place I started to gently massage her vulva and breasts. “I love you Margaret, you’re the best sex toy I’ve ever had.”

“I bet you say that to all your whores. And how come you’re still dressed. I thought by now you’d have fucked me at least once.” She reached out with her hand and stroked my hard-on through my slacks.

“Here’s the plan,” I said. “You’re going to stay dressed like that and prepare and serve us dinner. I’m going to continue to play with whatever part of you takes my fancy. After it’s fully dark you’re going to drag out a dress, the black floral one that buttons down the front. Then you’re going to get into the car, just as you are and I’m going to drive to the office. I’ll drive straight into the car park. You can put the dress on in the car park and keep it on as we ride up in the elevator. You can take it off again once we’re in the office, and then you’re going to pose for some family snaps for the album, before I finally fuck you on the boardroom table. How does that sound.”

“If you can wait that long, heavenly.”

“Excellent. Now come with me to the bathroom. I gotta pee.”

I lead her upstairs to the shower and told her to take her shoes off and wait in it while I undressed and fetched some bath towels. Stepping into the shower I told her to squat down with her legs wide apart and her back resting against the wall. Then I stood directly in front of her, my erect and swollen cock pointing at her face.

She bobbed her head forward, stuck her tongue out, swirled it around the engorged, purple glans and then slipped her lips over it, sucking gently. I could feel her tongue probing my pee-hole.

“Oooohhhh, that is so good, darling,” I said, moaning.

“Would like me to suck you off?” She started stroking my shaft with one hand and caressing my balls with the other.”

It was so tempting, but I wanted to deny her my cock until she was desperate for it.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Stroke your clit with one hand and hold my cock in the other. Bend it down a little until it’s pointing at your chest. I don’t want to piss on your face and spoil your hair and make-up. Not today anyway.”

She gave my cock one last, loving suck, opened her mouth and did as instructed.

“Now hold it gently and just tickle my balls with your fingertips. Oh yes, that’s soooo good.

“I want you to frig that hot, wet, gaping pussy of yours and make yourself come,” I said, as her hand dived between her legs.

She moaned as she stabbed two fingers inside and started to fuck herself with them. I could see that she was already primed and ready; her face was flushed, beads of sweat had broken out on her on her brow, and she was arching her back and pushing her hips against her fingers. I concentrated on relaxing my urethra muscles, and as her moans came louder and faster, and as her hips started bucking, I felt the flow start and I breathed out as the firm stream of urine splashed onto her breasts and cascaded down over her belly and pussy.

She grunted and squealed with pleasure and then, when the shuddering had subsided, opened her eyes and stared up at me, holding my cock close to her breasts. “Piss on me lover, cover me in your hot, sweet piss.”

The flow stopped and she gently squeezed my cock to expel the last few drops.

“My God, that was so erotic,” she whispered. “Having an orgasm while my husband pissed on me. I can wait to give you the same pleasure.”

I held out my hands to help her back to her feet. Her torso and thighs were dripping with my pee and she reached for the shower taps, but I pushed her hands away. I pulled her to me and started to rub the urine into her skin, spreading it all over her breasts and stomach, and between her legs and over her buttocks.

“I’ve scented you with my piss, like a bitch. I want us both to smell it on you. I want you to kiss me and tell me you enjoy being my dirty, piss scented lover-bitch.” I took her in my arms and hugged her close. “I love you, you sexy, dirty woman. I love that you’re mine to do whatever I want with. I’m going to make it worth with your while, promise.”

“I love being your dirty, piss scented lover-bitch,” she said, her eyes gleaming with love and lust as she kissed me and our tongues wrestled in her mouth. My erection was pressed into her belly and I could smell her hot, wet, sex and the briny odour of urine on her skin.

I grabbed her a towel and told to dry herself and put her shoes back on. Then I rinsed myself under the shower, dressed and lead her back downstairs.

I allowed her to wear an apron in order to prepare dinner but made her take it off and sit naked on my lap while we ate the meal. I asked her to cut the meals up and feed us both so that I had my hands free to play with her. She sat with her legs parted and I strummed her clit to keep her arousal levels peaked.

“I’m escort keçiören not complaining,” she said between mouthfuls. “I’m happy being your piss-scented lover, but don’t you find I smell just a tiny bit offensive?”

I breathed in deeply, inhaling the pungent odour of my fresh urine on her warm skin. “You do smell,” I said, crinkling my nose. “But the fact that I did it to you, and you stink of my piss is just so exciting. Dirty, but exciting at the same time. Maybe one day I’ll send you off to the charity shop like that, covered in my stinking piss and with your pussy full of cum. That’ll give the ladies something to think about.”

She took a sip of wine and then kissed me. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and tasted the chardonnay. “I’ll let you have a shower before we go out,” I said. “In the meantime I want to talk some more about spanking you.”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.”

“Yes, well I’ve been doing some research, in books and on the internet. There’s some pretty scary stuff out there. I thought The Story of O was just a fantasy, but I’ve watched women on the internet flogged until their bottoms were covered in awful looking welts and bruises. I can’t understand why they put up with it. I couldn’t do that to anyone.”

“I know you couldn’t,” replied Margaret. “That’s why I’m offering it to you. I trust you to make it pleasurable for both of us.”

“But I’m not sure how having your backside welted can be a pleasure for you.”

She put down her fork, enfolded me with her arms and kissed me. “Maybe it’s something about how women’s bodies are made. You know, don’t you, that the clitoris is much more than just that little pearly knob you’re teasing.” She wriggled her hips against the finger that was still gently strumming her clit.

“Sort of.”

“The bit you’re playing with is just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Underneath it is an organ the wraps around the vagina, has two branches that curve upwards either side of it, and a third branch that reaches back towards my spine. It has 8,000 nerve endings, twice as many as in the head of your cock, and the nerves connect with other sensitive zones such as my nipples. When I’m aroused my clitoris is not just being stimulated by you touching the button, it’s stimulated by almost everything you do.”

“But that doesn’t explain why pain can be pleasurable?”

“In the right context it stimulates the clitoris, adding to the pleasure. I think of it like a symphony in which the individual instruments come together to form something more than just the sum of the parts. Some sharp nipple pinching, your tongue on my bud, some swats on my arse and your cock inside me all combine to boost the pleasure of orgasm.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“Well it’s my body. It’s a shame women don’t come with an instruction manual so that our lovers can read up on us first, before they tinker with the machinery.”

“Real men don’t need instructions,” I said, laughing.

“I’m not an electric drill, and anyway you just admitted you did.” She took my face in her hands and gazed lovingly into my eyes. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told another soul.”

I gazed at her wondering what was coming next.

“My father spanks my mother occasionally.”

I put my hands up to my ears in horror. “Too much information, you can’t share your parents’ bedroom secrets with me. Hell I’m surprised they share them with you. They’re in their sixties and I can’t believe that delicate, grey haired Jean lets big, burly Clarence anywhere near her bottom.”

“God, you have lived a sheltered life. You’d be surprised at the antics and kinks some of our married friends get up to. Anyway, I’ve asked my mother, and if you want my father to show you how to Goldilocks spank my bottom – not too hard, not too soft, but just right – then we’re invited to dinner next weekend. I want you to think about it and let me know.” She grabbed the wrist of the hand that was stroking her pussy.

“Now, I’ve had enough being played with. I want what you promised, a good, long, hard fucking on your boardroom table. It’s dark, so go and get the car keys.”

Ten minutes later, after she had showered and touched up her make up, I held the front door open for her. I expected her to hesitate and look up and down the street in case anyone was passing. But instead, nude apart from the high heels and jewellery, she strolled boldly round to the passenger side of the car, pulled open the door and climbed in.

I passed her the dress we had selected and suggested she keep it handy in case of an emergency, then I turned the key, let off the brake and pulled into the road.

I found it extremely distracting having a nude woman in the passenger seat next to me as I negotiated the freeway into the city. Maybe it gets easier the more you do it. I was hoping that people in the cars and buses that we passed, and pedestrians who saw us stopped at intersections, would catch glimpses of her breasts, or even more. But I was also nervous that she was very vulnerable if we had to stop for any length of time. There were some raised eyebrows and thumbs up signs from a couple of truck drivers who halted momentarily alongside us at traffic lights. Looking down at her from their cabs they would have seen that she was naked. She saw one of them grinning down at her and daringly spread her legs wider to give him a better eyeful.

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