(ever notice all these words rhyme with masturbation?!)

I was sooo glad to have E over, particularly because she is nice enough not to mention my terrible housekeeping skills.  But the sheets were nice and fresh smelling when we rolled into them Friday afternoon.  I let her get her boob and fishnet fetishes out of the way before she descended on my ravenous pussy.  I think she’s been getting more lessons from her husband because she had me moaning and squirming in orgasm in no time flat.  Or maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder and the clit come quicker as well.

Next she put her expert hands to work and a nice puddle of ejaculate formed under my ass as my body turned to jello.  By then I was dying to get going on the pussy worship.  She presented her gorgeous snatch over my face, careful not to drown me, and I gleefully feasted on her.

She topped it all off by fingering my ass while letting me ride her purple cock and suck her toes!  WOW!  I think we covered a myriad of fetishes in just one short afternoon.

It’s a Friday, and I’m mulling over my options for wasting time at work.  Silver’s at home washing the bedsheets in anticipation of my afternoon visit today.  Her darling husband agreed to take the kids out for a couple hours so that we could have some play time.  The plan is I leave work at 12 something, go pick my husband up for therapy (we’ve been doing marriage counseling for well over a year now, and love it!), have “lunch” with hubby after therapy (I went vegan, so it will be a healthy lunch), and then drive over to Silver’s house for some recreational bonding on clean sheets!

She jokingly asked me to sing to her pussy in the comment section, so I’ve been practicing my Steve Perry voice today and am prepared to wow her with some stadium rock.  Journey’s songs have probably initiated more lays than any other ballad crooning band, so I think I made a wise choice in my repertoire.  Ask her kindly tomorrow, and maybe she’ll appraise my efforts!

Silver picks me up on Wednesday for our usual Italian lunch (I order eggplant parm and she gets chicken parm).  She drives up to the college in her little red stick shift.

“Where’s the van?”  I ask, having just gargled in the bathroom in the hopes of making out in the van.

“We need to retire the van for the spring,” she says.  “It’s full of mulch and gardening tools.  There’s no way I’m going to be able to clean it up for sex.”

“What!” I gasp.  “Since when did you get all utilitarian on me?  The van is about love!  Even you yourself have called her a MILF!  You keep her full of mulch, and she’s going break down…I’m just warning you.”

“But how am I suppose to haul the garden stuff if I don’t use the van?”

“Well…I don’t know…what do you need a garden for anyway?”  She rolls her eyes at me.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

I got to thinking, though, that perhaps my lifestyle had advanced to the point where I needed my OWN love van!  I mean, people bought vans back in the 60’s and 70’s as a place to have sex all the time.  Admittedly they were probably teenagers, but what the hell!  My super suave Saturn is paid off, so I could afford a cheap van.  In retrospect, I should have bought the van with the flat tires that someone left parked near my apartment last year.  It was a cruiser with a couch AND tables in the back.  It probably wouldn’t have ever run, but who cares!  I could have turned it into my own private love nest on wheels!

Sorry that we’ve been making everyone wait for explicit details of our sushi party on Sunday evening.  Truth is we’ve been up late the past couple of nights hanging out (husband is still out of town), so I’ve been tired during the day time.

Silver arrived at my house after work on Sunday, though, and quickly changed into a black lace body stocking.  “That piece is new, ” I drooled.  I’m always amazed at how quickly she can transform from a latte stained barista into a love goddess.  Probably helps that she carries a huge backpack full of accessories and gear.  (I’m going to steal the backpack one of these days and post a detailed list of its contents.)

I had my bedroom all ready with candles.  The sushi platter was laid out on the bed.  I had changed into my new gray lingerie, and was fully prepared to feed my girl with chopsticks!

She liked the sushi rolls.  I had a tuna roll, an Alaska roll, and a spicy vegetable roll…all of which seemed a good introduction into the sexy world of raw fish.  (I’m holding off presenting her with octupus until after I expose the contents of her backpack!)

We kissed as we ate.  I had porn from the 70’s going on my computer…Harlee McBride in Young Lady Chatterly, a film which makes heavy use of the eroticism of food.  After we polished off the rolls, we advanced to the main course…each other!  It had been a while since we had had sex, and even longer since I had fisted her, so of course things got hot and rough pretty quick.  I moved to sit on her face a few times, as I absolutely love being eaten by a skilled tongue.

“How do I taste?”  I asked.

She mumbled something, but I wasn’t listening.  She hates the usual analogies of  “chicken” or “fish”, so I’m sure the response was more clever and probably vegetarian friendly.  After we flipped over, she continued licking me while running her fingers inside of me.  I grabbed at her hair and rubbed my pussy all over her face.

“You have great hair for sex,” I moaned.  It’s true…her hair is thick, curly, and longer in the front.  Makes for an excellent grip!

We finished up about the same time as Harlee McBride.  I had left the movie running because the soundtrack was actually quite nice (mostly based on Debussy).  I cleaned up the sushi, while she repacked the sex toys and the body stocking into the backpack.  I distinctly caught sight of an entire box of Sharpie markers in the backpack…god only knows what she’s planning on using those for!

With that, she rushed back out into the night, leaving me full and flushed.

I was over in the pool again today, as usual.  I had no meeting to prep for and I was already planning on fucking the husband tonight, so I was in the steam room just for the steam.  After a while, I noticed the same tall, male figure sit down in the chair facing the door.  Curiosity got the better of me, so I bolted up and opened the door before he could escape this time.

“Hey,  Mrs. E!”  he said.

Shit.  Only my students call me Mrs. E.

“James!  What a pleasant surprise!  Are you doing your clinical internship over here with the physical therapists?”

“Yes,  Mrs. E!” he grinned.

“OooooKkkkkk.  Is today your first day?”

“No,  Mrs. E!” he continued to grin.

“Ah, because I could have sworn I saw you sitting in that chair just the other day…but you were probably busy with observing patients and writing soap notes, correct?”

“Yes,  Mrs. E!” The grinning was starting to annoy me.  Fortunately for him, a weapon was not close at hand.

“Alright then…carry on…I’m just going to go change.  See you in English class.”

“Yes,  Mrs. E!  Your work out is paying off, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Yes, James.  I know.”

I think I’ve mentioned before that I hate going to faculty meetings, so I’ve developed the habit of sneaking somewhere to masturbate right before a meeting…makes it bearable.  Last week I was sick AND I got asked to sit in on a curriculum committee meeting.  “This calls for some serious prep work, ” I said to myself.

I took my lunch break exactly an hour before the meeting was supposed to start, and I ducked over to the steam room at the aqua therapy center where I work out.  I did my swim routine first, showered in some cool water, and then went into the steam room.  As soon as I closed the glass door, steam clouded my view out into the public pool area.  I felt certain that I would have this space to myself for a few minutes.

I sat cross-legged in the corner opposite the door.  My right hand slid aside the crotch of my speedo, and began playing with my clit.  It felt delicious to be warm all over and inhaling the steam.  I kept my eyes on the door, watching the fuzzy images of swimmers occasionally pass in front of the glass door.

“They have no idea what I’m doing, ” I laughed to myself.  I was sure the steam obscured my image as much as it did theirs.  I probably looked like a fuzzy lump sitting in the corner.  A minute or two passed this way, with my fingers continually rubbing and kneading my sex.  I was having a hard time cumming, though, probably due to being sick.

About this time, a tall masculine figure sat down in the one pool chair that looked directly into the glass door of the steam room.  I paused my stroking.  From that chair I couldn’t be certain exactly how much he could see.  He looked pretty fuzzy to me, but how did I look to him?  I sat frozen for a few seconds, then slowly but surely the exhibitionist in me started masturbating again.  “Surely he can’t discern what I’m doing,” I reasoned.  “Or can he?”

The figure in the chair sat still, but seemed to be gazing into the steam room.  I stroked myself quicker, realizing I wanted to cum with someone else watching me.  I shuddered and arched my hips, feeling hot moisture gush between my legs.  I pulled my fingers out of my speedo and put them in my mouth, tasting my own pussy.  The tall figure in the chair got up and left his vantage point.  Hmmm…

When I came out of the steam room a few minutes later, there were only women in the pool.  I chuckled to myself and proceeded to the locker room.  My meeting was starting soon, but I now felt prepared to face it.

Sorry to keep everyone hanging about how our date went with the sexy mechanic.  We were late getting to Valvoline thanks to Silver…she had to clean out the van, which frankly was no small task.

“Why did you call my van a man?”  she yelled over the sound of the super-sucker car vac located next to 7-Eleven.  We had stopped to get some drinks, only to realize that every cup holder contained empty Starbucks cups.  “What are you saving these for?” I had asked, grabbing an armload of cups for disposal.  “It’s part of my survival training, ” she had answered, which really meant “Just shut up and clean!”

“Why did you call my van a man?”  she repeated, now turning off the vacuum.  She was referring to a comment that I had made on the blog.  She apparently considered her van to be female.  “I don’t know,” I replied, making my third trip to the trash can, “I guess I was just thinking of it as a bachelor pad.”  The van was a sensitive topic, so I decided to play it safe and switch gears.

“Should we buy the sexy mechanic some beef jerky while we’re here?”

“E, that stuff is disgusting!  Do you really want to kiss someone who’s just consumed nitrates in that quantity?”

“No, you’re right!”  I had a flashback to the day I took my vegetarian husband to Nathan’s on Coney Island for his first (and last) chili dog.  “Let’s just hit the road…she’s probably waiting on us in Bay 2!”

So we get to Valvoline, and she was, in fact, waiting.  Her dark hair was slicked back in the ponytail again, and her lips shone with just a hint of lip gloss.  She had left her coveralls on, which made Silver and I both sigh at the same time.   “This is going to be good!”  we said in unison.

“You two are late,” she said climbing into the van.  “We had better hurry…I have to do another lube job in 45 minutes!”

Silver floored the van and we sped off to “our spot” on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  Fortunately, there wasn’t many tourists out on the Parkway this time of year, so we felt fairly certain that we could fuck for half an hour without discovery.  We climbed into the back of the van and started shedding our clothes.

Silver and I insisted that she leave her coveralls on until we were both naked.  We kissed in front of her until she grabbed at our breasts, and then we both shifted our attention to unzipping the uniform.  She was wearing no bra or underwear underneath.  We undid the coveralls just far enough so that I could play with her bulging breasts and Silver could get access to her wet pussy.

“Shall we have lunch?” Silver teased.  She then dove her tongue into the mechanic’s pussy, eating quite ravenously as time was of the essence now.  I bit and teased at her nipples, running my hands further inside the uniform.  The mechanic came rather quickly, leaving the crotch of her coveralls damp with cum.  We zipped her back up, threw on our own clothes, and sped back to Valvoline.  She waved at us from Bay 2 as we drove off, leaving her to lube a Hummer.

We ended at Starbucks for our post-coital hand washing and lattes.  “See, this is how I end up with so many cups!”  Silver said, pitching the Big Gulp cups into the back seat.