Leaving my dog, I decide to skulk around the yellow house to the back. Since it’s broad daylight, I try to act like I know what I’m doing, as if I’m a friend of the Joneses. With a toss of my hair and a carefree saunter, I make my way to the paved stones that lead to their fence gate, and then pull down on the string so that the wooden door opens. Perfect. No problems so far.
Inside is a narrow cement walkway with garbage cans to the left. Eeew, gross. But then the noise comes again, another long unnnnnh, and I scurry forwards, as quietly as possible.
Their garden is beautiful. It’s small but there’s an emerald square of manicured lawn in the center with a fountain of a little boy playing a flute, with one leg up while dancing a jig. It’s also a little weird because he’s pissing at the same time, and the stream of water coming out from his undersized-tool splashes into the fountain basin merrily. How strange. I didn’t know that people played the flute while they relieved their bladders, but maybe this is just the sculptor’s artistry expressing itself.
I skulk around the back of the house, making sure to stay low in case anyone’s watching. The noise comes again, and I tiptoe to the back as it gets louder and louder. What is going on? Where is it coming from?
Ducking, I creep around to the back where their master bedroom must be. Then slowly, I raise my head above the edge of a window sill and peer into the bedroom. The sight I see takes my breath away because it’s Mr. and Mrs. Jones going at it like crazed people. He’s not just banging her … he’s banging her.
She’s currently doing a headstand on the floor with her back braced against the side of the bed. But instead of having her legs straight and together, pointed to the ceiling, they’re split wide so that I can see her gaping twat. Her blonde hair is covering her face, but I can hear the moans emanating from her throat. Oh wow, she’s getting pounded and she clearly loves it.
Because at the moment, Mr. Jones is standing behind her, and he’s completely nude. That muscular form gleams with sweat and I can literally count each of his abs as I stand there, gaping while peering into the bedroom window. Not only that, but his enormous cock is out and as I watch, he slowly slides it into Mrs. Jones’s pussy from above. That’s right. She’s upside down, doing a head stand with her legs split while he crouches above her and dips his pole into her folds.
“Ooooh, Dane!” she sqeuals. “Yes, just like that!”
He growls and his blue eyes gleam.
“You like it in your kitty, Amelia? Is this what you’ve been craving?”
“Yes, yes!” she pants, her words muffled as her swollen folds stretch around his length. “Ooh, it feels so good!”
Dane’s expression grows even more taut, and he pushes that length deep inside her depths, the thick rod disappearing inch by inch as I watch with my mouth open. Holy cow, how is it even possible? He must be ten inches at least, and yet as I watch, his wife takes it all. She wriggles a bit, as if in discomfort, but there’s no way she’s going anywhere. She’s in a headstand, for crying out loud, so she’s stuck good and tight on that massive rod.
Dane’s expression grows even more intense as he edges in further, but then he stops. Or more accurately, the penetration stops because there’s just no way for it to go in further.
“You comfortable, Amelia?” he growls, gripping his wife’s thighs so that they stay wide for him.
“Unnnh,” is her only reply. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he grunts. “Because now we’re ready for the final scene.”
With that, Dane begins a steady rhythm. He keeps dipping his member into her swollen twat, again and again, while coaxing her to release. Finally, the gorgeous man reaches one hand forward and plays with her hard nub while giving her the deep pound. With that, Mrs. Jones come undone. I watch with amazed eyes as her legs straighten for a moment, the toes pointing hard, and then she lets out a huge squeal as her pussy folds convulse.
“Ooooh!” she screams. “Oh god, Dane, it’s SO GOOD!”
But Mr. Jones doesn’t come in her. Instead, his thrusts grow with increasing force and depth, even as the muscles on his chest tighten. Then at the last moment, he pulls out and spurts all over her creaming cunt, the white batter spraying over her hole and coating the insides of her thighs.
“Fuck!” he roars. “Oh shit!”
But then, I get the shock of my life because as his hose pumps and drains itself, suddenly, the handsome man looks up and meets my eyes. Oh shit, does he see me here? Immediately, I duck down below the windowsill, my cheeks pink and breathing hard. He just caught me! As the roars and moans from inside continue, I scrabble away on my hands and knees, trying to get out of there as quick as possible.
But something stays with me, and that’s the memory of Dane Jones smiling as he looked into my eyes. Can it be? Did he want me to be there? Was he titillated by the thought of a curvy young woman staring at him and his wife while they did it? Holy cow. It can’t be … but it is.