The Origin of Yodeling...A Cheating Wife
Her daughter was watching with disbelieving eyes. 'Mommy is kissing and holding that man like she is in love with him, and now she is begging to be fucked. Poor mommy, you have been so starved for good loving.'
Written by EroticWriter / Jan 25, 2011
Have you ever wondered where and how yodeling began? Here's the true story.
Back in the olden days, an American student was traveling by foot through Switzerland. He was tall, ruggedly handsome and was well built. Nightfall was approaching, and the young man had nowhere to sleep.
He knew a little bit of the Swiss language, so he went up to a farmhouse and asked the farmer if he could spend the night. In those days it was common practice as Inns were far between and often full. Hikers usually carried backpacks, with all they needed for the road.
The farmer told him that he could sleep in the barn. So the man went into the barn to bed down, and the farmer, who had just finished his chores, went into the house. The farmer didn't think much about it because over the years other hikers had bedded down in the barn.
As the story goes, the farmer's teen daughter came downstairs and asked her father, who was reading. "Father, who was that young man I saw going into the barn?"
"That's some fellow traveling through," said the farmer. "I think he might be from America. He needed a place to stay for the night, so I said that he could sleep in the barn."
Well, the teen daughter had seen him from her window. He looked so handsome and she wanted to meet that young man, so the daughter then asked, "Did you offer the man anything to eat"?
"Uh, no, I didn't," the farmer answered. "It looked like he had some provisions in his backpack so I did not bother."
For the most part with only good intentions in her mind, the daughter said, "Well, I'm going to take him some food, just in case." She went to the kitchen and prepared a plate of food.
She peeked around the corner at her father. He was still seated with his novel. So before heading to the barn she ran upstairs and changed into something a little nicer.
She was wearing her hair in pigtails, and had little red ribbons on the end. She put on a black full-skirted dress, and in the bodice area it was white, low cut and showed off the top portions of her melon-sized mounds nicely. The black material in the dress wrapped up and around the sides of her breasts, adding emphasis.
She studied herself in the mirror; Her body looked lovely in this dress. Her nipples were barely covered, and the dress was daringly revealing for the time. She had never worn it since purchasing it three weeks before, and now she could show it off. Of course her daddy had never seen it.
Then, gathering up the tray and making sure that daddy had not seen her change of clothes; she took it out to the barn.
The dress worked even better than she had hoped. The American had an appetite all right, and he proceeded to show her. A little over an hour later she staggered towards the house with a smile on her face. Her clothes were all disheveled and buttoned up wrong, and she had several strands of straw tangled up in her long blond hair.
Carefully avoiding her dad in the living room, she immediately went up the stairs to her bedroom, cleaned up and went to sleep.
A little later, the farmer's wife came down and told her husband that she had heard their daughter going to bed, and since it was so early she was wondering why.
"I don't know," said the farmer. "Earlier I told a young man that he could sleep in the barn, and our daughter took him some food. That's the last I know."
"Oh", replied the wife. Telling a little fib, she said, "I didn't know that we had a guest. Did she take the man anything to drink?"
"Umm, no, I don't think so," said the farmer.
The wife then said, "I would imagine that he's thirsty now so I'm going to take something out for him to drink."
"That's good my dear wife," the farmer replied, anxious to get back to his novel.
"Maybe I'll take out a spare pillow for him too. He might enjoy having something to lie his head upon."
Again the husband acknowledged her, but only by nodding his head.
She shrugged as she headed away. That was typical of her husband. All he ever did was work the farm during the day and read his novels in the evening. The only other two signs of life he displayed were on Friday and Saturday nights.
On Friday nights he went into the village and played cards or darts with his friends. On Saturday night, if things had not come up on Friday, he would have his weekly erection and use it on his wife. Five minutes later, if he was taking his time, it would be all over, usually for him only.
This was Tuesday evening however. Before coming downstairs, the wife had already taken the time to change into something a little nicer than her working dress. Her husband hadn't even noticed.
Instead of selecting water, the wife went to the cellar and got a bottle of wine. She stared at the bottle she held and thought about things for a minute, then, gathering her courage; she headed out to the barn, a pillow in one hand, and the bottle in the other.
This time the circumstances were a little different. Mom's intentions went beyond just being the thoughtful hostess, as her daughter had intended at first. The wife and mother, who was still youthful and quite attractive had not seen the young man enter the barn. But she had just happened to look out the window in time to see her daughter coming out of the barn. Then she had seen her daughter turn to wave at someone inside.
At first the mother had thought nothing of it. It was probably her father she was waving at. As her daughter drew closer to the house, she had seen the smile on her daughter's face. But what concerned the mother the most was what she was wearing. And the condition of her daughter's clothing and hair indicated something was amiss.
Whatever it was that her daughter might have done, she wanted to investigate for herself. Finding out for sure from her husband that there was a man in the barn had confirmed her fears. If she had known in advance, the mother would not have permitted her daughter to enter the barn alone with a stranger present.
Now it looked like it was too late to rectify things. But she still needed to conduct her investigation. As she headed for the barn, the mother really didn't know what she intended to do. Maybe her daughter had not actually done anything, like going all the way with him.
It depended on how the person in the barn acted. If he was nice enough, she might offer him some wine and just talk to him. If he was unpleasant, she might ask her husband to make him leave, but she did not plan to tell her husband how her daughter had looked.
The mother didn't return for an even longer time than her daughter. It was well over an hour and now dark as she turned to wave one last time at the person within. As she left the barn, her clothes were also messed up, and just like her daughter the mother had straw twisted into her blond hair.
When she had gone into the barn, the wife and mother had been pleasantly surprised. 'What a nice young man', she had thought. She had handed him the bottle to open and lain the pillow down next to where there was hay spread out for a mattress upon the floor. His eyes had probed into hers as she had laid that pillow down, and she had blushed and tried to act normal about the whole thing, and not thinking the same thoughts that he might be.
They had shared some of the wine and talked. She had not gotten to the part about "did you do anything with my daughter?" The young man had begun showing her instead.
The wife and mother was grinning when she walked across the yard. Her footsteps were wobbly because her 36- year-old legs were weak and sore from being in positions they had not been placed into for years, if ever.
Her vagina was sore too, well, maybe not sore, but she had a feeling of tenderness down there that reminded her with every step of the amazing equipment the young man had been blessed with. Not just amazing in size, but also in how long it had stayed sizable, over and over again.
Five separate times he had entered her body. The first time he had laid on top and literally 'broken her in.' His adding the pillow under her ass after a minute had allowed him to penetrate deep into her body, and he had given her a first, incredible orgasm.
The second time was to change positions and show her doggy style while standing.
The third time was while he was standing holding her up on his arms while bouncing her up and down on his cock. Somehow their lips had managed to stay locked, and all that combined had brought her to a climax such as she had never dreamed of.
The fourth time was to allow her to ride him resulting in her third orgasm, and the fifth time was so that he could lie on top of her and inject her with what cum he had left after shooting a gallon into her daughter.
She had left the half-empty bottle of wine with the young man, and he had said that he would finish it and get good nights sleep.
Just like her daughter, the mother avoided the man of the house and went straight up the stairs, into the bath and then into bed.
As she lay in bed, she had memories. Did her daughter have the same memories? Maybe later, tomorrow, or maybe never, she would ask her daughter about her visit. If her daughter admitted anything, she might get some details from her. But could she ever tell her daughter about her own visit? That was most probably a not. Fortunately for her, she was thinking, the barn could not be seen from her daughter?s room, so she would never know.
Both women had dreams, very erotic dreams during the night. For the daughter, who had been experimenting with the local youth, her dreams were of finally finding someone who could fulfill her needs. This young man had been another adventure, but out of four, he was the best one so far.
But for the mother, the dreams were more intense. Since her husband seemed not all that interested in sex, she had adopted the same attitude. Through the years she had thought that her needs were being fulfilled, but the young man had made her aware that she had been missing something.
Mom awakened before midnight and was thinking about the young man, all alone and sleeping out in the barn. Her husband just happened to awaken and see her framed in the moonlight as she was looking out of the bedroom window. He asked her if anything was wrong, and the mother replied that she was just going to the bathroom.
"You should come and see how lovely the moon is dear. It is full tonight and looks like it is smiling down on us."
The practical husband had always thought his wife was too romantic in nature. She was always talking about moonlight, flowers, and other frilly things. "Yes dear, I can see the light from here. It is almost bright enough to go out and milk the cows, but I suggest you wait until morning. Now let's go back to sleep."
"Yes dear," she sighed, staring out the window. She had asked her husband to join with her at the window, but he had not been interested. That was his trouble, he was no longer romantic with her. It didn't matter that he was able to get hard any time he wanted.
That was the strange part. He could get hard at any moment, but rarely used it when it came up. Many times when he was sleeping on his back she had seen his erection pushing up on the sheets and turning them into a tent. But for the most part he only expected sex from her on Saturday nights, sometimes Friday, but usually Saturday.
Saturday nights and he would turn into an animal, for a few minutes. Forgotten were his novels. Early to bed and get to the sex, that was his Saturday evening. She had often wondered if perhaps his evening with the boys on Fridays got him all horny from the talk, but if that was the case, why didn't he jump on her when he came home?
But there was more than sex she craved. She also needed foreplay, fantasy and romance. She sighed again as she pretended to be looking up at the Moon, but her eyes were still on the barn.
Fantasy. She had been married to one man for the past 18 years and of course her husband had taken her virginity. She had known no other man before today, but now her mind was filled with strange erotic thoughts.
Her husband still wanted sex, but only when it was convenient for him, and it never lasted long enough for her. Another time, since he was awake, she might have crawled back into bed and reached for him to see if anything came up. If he responded she could get on top and move until she reached her one mild orgasm.
She usually reached climax while on top the easiest if she laid on her husband's chest, with her head close to his. Seldom though would they kiss. As a matter of fact, she usually laid her head on his chest to avoid kissing. That was because if they kissed while she was on top, it was because she had done the initiating.
At this angle, bent way forward, his penis felt the best to her.
It varied on how long things would last. If he was the initiator and on top, it was five minutes. She needed longer and sometimes asked him to go slow. If her day had not been too stressful, and her husband acted like he cared about her orgasm, it might only take her ten to fifteen minutes when he was on top. Other times she would either have to work a little harder to come, or just fake it.
Usually though, she would manage to reach her climax when she was on top. Five or ten minutes were usually sufficient for her. After she groaned softly and came, she wanted to just lie there for awhile. If her husband was being nice, she sometimes wanted to go twice.
He always stayed hard within her whenever she took her break. She liked to remain lying on her husband when she resumed pumping, but he usually wanted her to sit more upright so that he could grab her breasts. If she remarked that it felt better when she was bent forward, he sometimes had replied, "Maybe for you, but I don't like how it gets all sweaty between our bodies".
Well, she liked that sweat. To her it sort of added to the eroticism. But he just didn?t think the same way. On those nights when she could not lie on him, she would continue moving up and down while her husband fondled her tits until he shot his load up into her.
During the times when her husband mounted her, which was only about one third of the time, she could climax if he took his time. As they both grew nearer to their orgasm, he would pound hard into her.
More often than not, he would be there first. Her reaching orgasm with him on top only happened about half the time, so her preference was when she took the superior position.
That had been enough to satisfy her in the past, the physical part. It did not meet her emotional needs, and besides that, she always had to go get a cloth and bathe her husband while he just lay there afterwards. For several years it had been that way. If she got on top and 'used' him for sex, then she had to bathe him.
This was a necessity after their sex because he shot a very large load. She had learned from experience to place a towel under her vagina when she dismounted, otherwise she would drip all over him, the bed, and the floor on the way to the bath.
If he had been on top of her, it did no good for her to just lie there while he cleaned her. He had made the effort in their early months, but there was so much come that she would have to climb out of bed anyhow. So that was the way it was, if she did the work, she cleaned him and herself. If he did the work, she still had to drain and clean herself.
She always had to take care of herself first, otherwise she would have come running out as she walked around. In the beginning, she had tried putting on panties while she cleaned her husband, but they would be soaked within minutes. She would have to clean herself and put on another pair to go to sleep.
She kept going over her sex life in her mind as she stared out the window.
It had become more of a chore than of the afterglow of sex in their early years. When she would return from draining and cleaning in the bath, he would be lying on his back, acting like he was asleep. His dick would be soft, and his come and her juices would be all mixed through his pubic hair, all over his balls and between his thighs. If she didn't wash him, he would stay in bed and eventually get his mess all over the sheets when he rolled over.
She relived those thoughts, going over and over with them in her head. That was the way it usually went, with her on top and doing all the work during and afterwards. Sometimes he would initiate the sex, but if he did, he would get on top and often reach climax before she could. He moved his hips well enough, but her only guarantee of reaching some satisfaction was if she took charge. She never bathed him afterwards, when he had been on top. She would just go to the bath, sit, drain and wipe. If he didn't clean himself, that was too bad.
That was the reason that she had ended up being on top most of the time. Her husband seemed to like that best. She did the work and she did the cleaning. Her husband just provided his cock and acted as if it was the one and only. And she had believed that, until today.
These were the thoughts going through her mind over and over as she stared out the window. Then, she made her decision, a decision that would be risky, but worth it. Tonight, her husband was not going to have his pleasure. Tonight, if she had the nerve to sneak out, she was going to share her body with someone else for the second time.
Her husband had been provided with one last chance. Sighing after her husband had not been interested enough to look at the moon, she went to the bathroom and pretended to be using it. Then she quietly climbed back into bed besides her husband. It sounded like he was already sleeping, but she had to be sure.
She was so horny. Without conscious thought, her right hand found its way to her vagina. The young man had ravaged her body like never in her life, but she needed more. It was more like the American had awakened her in a dream, rather than satisfying her.
She felt down around her pubic area. Most of the tenderness was gone now, but it was wet, very wet just from thinking about the young man. Her fingers touched her clitoris, and she rubbed it gently. She needed fulfillment now! She almost changed her plan. Should she satisfy herself? Should she reach out for her husband? He didn't measure up to the young American, but she needed?.
Her mind was spinning. No, not tonight, she decided again with resolve. She was not going to get on top of her husband this time. In recent years she had spent more time bouncing on top of her husband than he had ever spent on her. Besides, her husband could not satisfy what she was still craving from earlier in the day.
This was her chance. There was someone nearby that appealed to her. She had already given herself to him and he had proven himself. A chance like this might not come up again. Of course there were always other opportunities.
Some men in town from time to time flirted with her, including her husband's buddies. She had always pretended not to be aware of their attentions. What irritated her the most was that her husband never seemed to notice when other men looked at her or flirted. Did he take her so much for granted that he figured no one else would want her, or she, them?
He seemed to be aware of his daughter's appearance, and how she had developed since the age of thirteen. He was protective towards her, although mom suspected that daughter was a little wilder than daddy knew about.
Once a month her husband would take her to a town dance. This was the wife's only contact for the most part with other men. While her husband bragged with his buddies and played darts, she drank a little, and danced. Most dances would only involve touching your partner with hands, but sometimes they danced close.
Until today and the young man's arrival, that had been her big secret, the dances.
One of her husband's drinking buddies always made it a point to ask her onto the floor. She wanted to turn him down, but never did for that might cause her husband to ask questions. It was true that she wanted to say 'No', but something drew her to this man. This man was a bruiser, built like a tank and most of it appeared to be muscle. When he asked her to dance, and she always watched for him to see when that would be, she would start tingling.
Her husband knew that she danced with this man, and sometimes others, but her husband seemed to be blissfully ******* about which songs were playing when this particular man chose to dance with her. She would start tingling between the legs because he picked the times when the dance music was slow and intimate. They even turned the lights down low. With no one able to see, he made it hard for her to ignore his crude attempts at seducing her.
He never said or suggested anything sexual, but he would already be erect as soon as he held her in his arms. He always guided her to the middle of the floor. There, they would be hidden by other people dancing from the view of anyone sitting on the sidelines. It would be just like they had danced the last dance together rather than maybe a month ago.
This man, whom she wanted to avoid but couldn't, would turn her body into his, take one long look into her eyes, then gently pull her against him. Their bodies would simply melt into one another's. By the end of the first dance, she would be sweating. His hard penis would affect her. She did not especially like this man, but his male presence, with that, down there, would arouse her.
What made it worse was the fact that she had to dance even closer to him to avoid the possibility of having to kiss him. He pressed himself against her. But she would press against him too so that her head could lie on his shoulder. That way, she did not have to look into his eyes, and her lips did not come close to his. She had sensed that he wanted to touch her lips with his from the first time they had been together. If he ever tried to kiss her, she did not know how she would react.
The trouble was, when she got in close in order to place her head on his shoulder, that brought her lower half into contact with his lower half. During the first few dances, she had tried to hold her lower portion away, but that had been awkward. So, in effect, her attempt at keeping him away brought her closer to him. Her tits, large and still fairly firm, would press into his chest.
It was a tradition to give your partner two dances, and when they played the slow ones, the songs were usually long. During the second dance he would place his hands on her buttocks and fondle them. He didn't squeeze hard. It was subtle, but he would get good feels as his hands roamed up and down.
She wore long flowing skirts, the kind that would swirl out when she spun around during fast dances. Because of that, when he ran his hands over her lower half, the skirt did not cut down on his ability to feel her curvature. When his hands moved, the loose skirt would move up and down at the same time.
It was never mentioned, but there was no doubt that he was taking liberties. His roaming hands touched her firmly enough that she really couldn't pretend to not know what he was doing. By his feeling and her allowing it to happen, they were in effect, both cheating on their mates. She had to fight hard to not show her feelings of arousal and get away from him when the music concluded.
His wife seldom came to the dances, so he was free to play. If he was seated in the area near her, he always seemed to be able to meet her eyes with his afterwards as she sat with her husband. He would smile knowingly at her, and she never failed to blush.
It always left her confused. This man did not appeal to her in public, but when she was being held close to him, she became aroused. Was there something hidden about herself that she did not know, or was it curiosity about others and frustration with her own love life?
That frustration might have been the reason for her having started to drink a little more in recent months. She only rarely drank at home, maybe some wine with special meals. But the monthly village dance was the time when people let their hair down. She, lately, had been feeling more like doing just that.
The last time she had danced with the man, three weeks ago, things had gone a little further than on previous occasions. She had ***** a little more than usual and was feeling pretty tipsy. He had sensed that right away and had not waited until the second dance to start caressing her ass. His hands had done more than just caressing too.
He had actually squeezed her cheeks, not hard, but firmly enough to constitute a good feel. And then, before the first song finished, he had taken more liberties. Worse, as she had thought about it later, she had allowed him, perhaps because at the time it was too embarrassing for her to stop him.
The song was very slow and romantic, and she was almost forgetting herself and with whom she was dancing. Fortunately, it was quite dark in the center of the dance floor. He had already gone beyond his usual running of his hands up and down over her cheeks.
For the first time, he sort of dug both hands into the crack of her butt and pulled outward slightly. The loose skirt of course, did not hamper his movements. As he tugged outward, this had the effect of spreading her cheeks and allowing him to get a good feel of her buttocks as he was now able to wrap the fingers of both hands around her ass cheeks.
And then, as if to add insult to injury, he spoke to her while his hands were digging into her buttocks. This was the first time he had done that. It wasn't much of a conversation, for him, five words. For her, it was only three. But it probably indicated that he was thinking beyond this dancing with one another once a month.
With his penis pressed firmly against her, he asked her if she was happy at home, and she defensively replied "of course. Very!" But he continued to caress her ass, and she allowed it to happen. She had wanted to act uppity and ask him why he wanted to know, but that would enable him to open up a conversation that she knew would only head in one direction.
He continued to hold onto her ass, fingers firmly wrapped around each buttock. With a firm handhold on her lower half, he was able to pull her even tighter against him. His penis was digging into her it was so hard.
She had wondered before, but now she really thought about it. How big was it? She couldn't tell as he pressed up against her. It was hard for sure, and there was no doubt that he would be able to perform quite ably if she ever tested him. She even wondered about his wife, and if his wife took care of her man when he asked. One thing for sure, he undoubtedly wanted it more than one night a week.
And then he had gone one step further. It was subtle, very subtle, but he released one cheek of her ass and moved his right hand upward between their bodies. It landed on her left breast. He didn't squeeze hard, and at first she didn't know he was touching her there. Because she did not immediately stop him he was able to caress her, squeezing just enough to feel her size, and shape.
When she realized that he was cupping her breast, it was too late. Now she knew, but there seemed to be no way to stop him without speaking out. She remained silent, and he continued to fondle.
He teased her nipple between his fingers, and she became aware that both her nipples were erect as if they were linked. She sensed that he was about to raise his other hand onto her other breast, but the music came to an end.
He removed his hand from her breast, but there was still another song to go. As the couples left space around them, the lights started to come up slightly. Their privacy of darkness was gone.
As always, they stopped dancing and stood in the center of the floor until the other couples had either begun moving back to their tables or remained on the floor. It was a good opportunity to make casual conversation, but they never spoke. He would just look at her, then look around at wave at someone or even speak to other persons, but never to her. It was time for the second dance.
The lights went down. When the second song began, he immediately and boldly placed his right hand back onto her tit and his left hand on her ass. This time, since he had just departed the area, he was not subtle, or you could say not sneaky about it.
He pulled her hips forward, causing his penis to press firmly into her pelvic area. He danced slowly with her in that manner, moving slow, staying very close, and holding her everywhere. He was feeling her more intimately now as his hand squeezed her breast.
Then she felt his hand leave her breast. For a moment she wondered where it was going. She found out instantly and in a shocking manner. He pulled his lower body away from hers slightly and his hand started pulling up her skirt. He had it up almost before she realized it.
What he was doing was between their bodies and no one could see in the dim light. When her skirt was high enough, he caught the hem under his wrist to hold it up, then used his hand to go there!
Shocked, she trembled at his touch. He was feeling her on the vagina. On the outside of her panties, yes, but it was her most intimate part. She was embarrassed too, not necessarily because he was feeling her vagina, but because she was already soaking wet, and he now knew it.
Confused, and unsure as to how to handle this without creating a scene, she allowed him to explore. He used one finger to push firmly against her panties and followed the contour of her slit the entire length. He moved up from the lower portion and ended up directly over her clitoris.
Her dancing became less smooth. She was trembling. Her pussy was wet. He could feel the slippery stickiness oozing completely through her panties for sure. Then he did the unthinkable. He used his finger to go under her panties from the side and slipped the tip inside. It was just a little ways, but enough that he could feel her insides. They took several slow steps around the floor while he held his finger in place.
Forbidden territory! Her promise to her husband of exclusive marital bliss was now being violated. This man was fondling her in an area that had been promised to another, and she was allowing it to happen. Worse, it was one of his so-called best friends that she was allowing to know her intimately.
She felt weak, and her pace slowed. He slowed with her and they were basically standing in the middle of the floor. At that moment, their being on the floor was more for the purpose of fondling rather than dancing. He moved his face directly in front of hers, forcing her to meet his eyes. Then he went deeper with a finger, far enough to feel her tightness as her vagina clamped around his finger. She moaned softly, her eyes betraying her as well as they looked into his with a mixture of disbelief and desire.
He pressed forward with his finger, going as deep as finger length would allow. She moaned again. Her body was betraying her. If this continued, she might reach orgasm, even if he didn't stroke it in and out. There was no use playing the role now of the innocent and wronged housewife. She was a part of this; a willing participant and he would always know that. She knew that she should make a pretense at dancing again, or perhaps even walk off the floor. But she was unable to move.
Willing or not, she was very aroused. All she needed was another minute and maybe a kiss. The music neared the end. They both knew the song, and how it ended. Reluctantly, he pulled his finger out of her hole, went higher and pressed the tip of his finger against her aroused little bud as if to say 'goodbye.' He rubbed up and down against her twice, and she moaned. Then he removed his hand and allowed her skirt to fall.
Sweating profusely, she had deliberately avoided his eyes when they parted. But she knew; he was probably thinking of asking her if they could do more, alone, somewhere, sometime. If there had been more time tonight, a third dance perhaps, he would probably have made his move. She had been under the influence of alcohol, and she was unsure as to what her reply would have been.
Still, she had allowed him to go further than ever before. He had taken substantial liberties with his hands. He would certainly be justified in asking her to meet him secretly for some good fucking. If she fucked him, it would certainly be different that what she was used to.
Besides the possibility of a variation in penis size, the man was much larger than her husband was. Not so much in height, there he was maybe a couple of inches taller. But he was way wider as well. She could barely wrap her arms around him when they danced. In bed, he might squash the life out of her if he were to lie his full weight upon her.
One thing for sure, something that had left a lasting impression upon her, he certainly had been able to identify her clitoris and give her a nip in the bud. She was so aroused by then that a finger inside had been the obvious next step for him to take, and by then she had been craving his touch. Just another minute of fingering, probably less with a kiss, and she would have had an orgasm.
She had done much thinking about it later, and had been fantasizing on that man the next time her husband had fucked her. She knew that the next time they were together in the middle of the dance floor, he would not bother to start from scratch again. If it was as dark as usual, he would begin right where he had left off. Within seconds his finger would be probing her, and probably during the first three lines of the song. She did not plan to stop him, and might even try to achieve orgasm.
There was an open patio at one side of the dance floor. During a dance they could probably sneak outside and do, something, maybe a fuck while standing up. She had already envisioned herself sitting on the edge of one of the patio tables while the man was between her legs, driving his manhood deep into her and making her climax, over and over.
But to go beyond the dance floor and act on her desires by cheating on her husband with someone local? That would be playing with fire. She might never get up the actual bravado to do so. The young man from America though, was different. When the morning came, he would be gone, and no one would ever know.
Unknown to her, another man had seen what was happening between her and her dance partner. He knew her and her husband, and he knew the other man. Hardly believing his eyes, he had seen the man's hand as it went up under her skirt. He had taken note of her face and how she had been reacting to the man and whatever he was doing under her skirt.
Next time, next month when she showed up, he planned to ask her for a dance. He hoped that in the meantime, she didn't secretly meet with the man who had been fondling her and start an affair. If she was going to be cheating, he wanted to catch her first.
The recently awakened wife didn't as yet know it, but she not only had one in the barn, she had two waiting in the wings.
THE ORIGIN OF YODELING Part Two
Written by EroticWriter / Jan 26, 2011
The wife and mother lay in bed and waited almost another hour. Her husband was asleep, but not so soundly as to snore. She waited, patiently, and impatiently.
She heard the chime on the clock downstairs and counted, ten, eleven, midnight. Now it was tomorrow. Then her husband did what she knew he would. He woke up and went to the bathroom.
Finally! It was even later this night than usual. Once in a great while, when he returned from the bathroom, he would be erect and slide into bed on her right side, placing his body, and his erection, tight against her. Had he just awakened from an erotic dream? Did he play with himself in the bathroom? She didn't know.
She had never turned him down, because those times were when he seemed to be the hardest and the most aggressive. He might even kiss her more than once. Only on those nights would she reach an orgasm that might match or top the ones she achieved when she was on him and doing the work.
But tonight, she did not want that to happen. For the first time, she really hoped that he would come out of that bathroom and get into bed on his own side. He was right-handed and always got on the right side of her when he wanted to feel her up beforehand. But he slept on the left of her, with his back turned away.
She waited, and he returned to bed, getting in on his own side. He turned his back and she remained quiet, pretending to be asleep. Her body was trembling as she tried to lie quietly. Even now, there was the slight possibility that he might turn around. She waited, five minutes, ten. He had stayed on his own side. Good!
This was the routine, but once he went back to sleep, it was unlikely he would wake again until the chickens crowed. She lay there quietly, still hoping that her husband would not reach out for her. If he did, she would have to respond.
When her husband was snoring, she crept out to the barn. She was wearing only a nightgown, with nothing underneath but a pair of panties and her lush body. She didn't plan to stay long this time, maybe just long enough to place her lips around the young man's amazing equipment. She had not sucked on his magnificent meat in the afternoon.
She very much wanted to feel it as she wrapped her lips around it. Then she wanted to taste it and feel it rise. Then, when he had reached his magnificence, they could have a quickie.
The young American had given her a quickie that afternoon, the first fuck. That was probably because he had not known how long she could stay and had not held back. But amazingly, she had climaxed with him. She could hardly believe it. He had given her an orgasm within three or four minutes. When she had stayed, the next time for her, and the time after that for both of them, the act had lasted much longer.
After his quickie tonight he could last longer, she knew, and she would have more time to enjoy his penis.
She saw the bottle lying nearby and knew that the young man had finished off the wine. He was sleeping so soundly with his head on the pillow that he had not heard her enter. She hoped that he was not so intoxicated that he might not be able to perform. Through a open window in the loft there was moonlight falling into the area where he was lying. She luckily had came to the barn at just the right time for the moonlight to be where she needed to see.
She admired his handsome face, looking so innocent as he slept. He was on his side, facing her, with his upper leg in front of the lower. Kneeling beside him she reached out, lifting his bedcover. He was sleeping only with underwear on. His dick was hidden in there somewhere.
She undid two buttons, reached in with a trembling hand and felt around. It was hanging down below. Very gently she pulled his long uncut penis out without awakening him. This was the first time she had seen it in any condition other than hard and erect.
She gently released his manhood from her hand and let the penis lie across his thigh. It was so long that it actually followed the curve of his leg. Most of his body was tanned a golden color, but not his penis. It was white, and very bright in the moonlight. It looked so lovely lying there.
Strangely, because of the length, it looked thin. She knew that thin look was deceptive. Even now, when it was soft, it was still longer and as wide as her husband was when his penis was hard. And this penis, she knew, when it grew would get thicker as well, much thicker.
She sighed as she remembered. She had never been stretched like that before, and that thickness was what she was craving most. For some reason, her thoughts turned to her dance partner. He was big, big and wide. He might be thick like this too. If that was the case, it might make taking the risk of seeing him all the more worthwhile. It was something to think about.
Trying not to wake the American yet, she gently began pulling the foreskin of his penis back so that she could see that delicious head ******* to view. That head was amazing as well. Now it looked to be barely wider than the shaft, but when it was filled with blood, it was almost as big as a plum.
The skin rolled back, and she smiled. There it is. She lay down in front of him and slid her body closer until her mouth was close enough to touch. He had not been able to bathe after their sex. *******, the head had a smell, a kind of nice smell she knew to be her, and her sex from several hours earlier. Unable to resist any longer, she wrapped her lips around him. She did it gently, trying to see if she could get him all the way up without his being awake.
She held his shaft in one hand and sucked. While he was soft she could get her mouth completely over his head, but barely. She sucked gently, running her tongue around his head. It grew slowly because he was in a sleep made deeper by the effects of wine. Also, he had climaxed twice with the daughter and twice with the mother.
He began to awaken when his penis was halfway to full. It took him the better part of minute to fully grasp what was happening, and in the meantime he grew closer to full erection. That felt really good. It wasn't a dream. He was receiving a blowjob. Was it the daughter, or her mother?
He laid quietly, eyes closed, enjoying the sensations of having a nice warm mouth over his dick head. Then a thought hit him. What if it was the father? No, of course not, but he almost giggled out loud. What an adventure that would be; first the daughter, then the mother, and then, the father. He wouldn't return the favor, but if daddy wanted to suck, that was fine with him. But as he dreamily enjoyed the sensations, he could tell, the mouth around him was small, and definitely feminine.
He pretended to be asleep and trying not to alert her he raised his head slightly from the pillow for a look to see whom it was. Whichever woman it was, she was running her tongue around as well as anyone he had ever experienced. 'Well hello, Mom', he thought.
He wasn't surprised at who it was. If he were a betting man, he would have bet that the mother, even though she would have to leave her husband's bed, would be the one to come out for seconds. The wife/mother would not have the opportunities for sexual experimentation that the daughter had. She was married and on the farm. Given an opportunity like this, she would be very likely to take it. And she had.
Smiling in the dark, the young man enjoyed his blowjob and thought back. The daughter had been shy but experimental. He had grabbed her close to him within two minutes after she had entered the barn. Her blouse was stretch material on top and he had pulled it down, ******** her globes to his view, and touch. Her tits had been very firm and upright and he had given them lots of attention.
When he had opened his trousers, she had reached in on her own. She had let out a little gasp and excitedly pulled him out. Within seconds after wrapping her fingers around him and a long kiss, she had gone to her back on the straw.
Though she had not been a virgin when he had entered her, that teen pussy had felt virtually untapped by any other man. She had held him away with her hands to keep him from penetrating her too fast. Yet, at the same time, she had pulled him in. Her cries of pleasure were music to a man's ears. He had enjoyed teaching her what sex was all about.
He had fucked her for several minutes, placing her into two different positions, and then surprised her by getting off and going down on her. No man, any one of the three, had ever done that, placed his mouth on her vagina, and the fact that he had actually held off his own pleasure to do something like that had been like a miracle to her.
He had been the first person to eat her, and he had been the first boy that she had kept her mouth on until the come flowed forth. She had even swallowed some, but not all of it. And when he gone back to fucking her, she had been very open about how good he felt, and how he had given her pleasure she could only dream about.
Though she knew a little English, most of the words she gasped out he could not understand, being in a language foreign to him. But the tone of her voice, and her actions spoke louder than words.
The fact that she had not mentioned him having to pull it out before he came had made it even better. If she got pregnant, that would be her worry, he would be long gone. He had dropped a load into her that might have been his largest ever, if she hadn't already drained some off with her mouth.
But the mother too had needed to be taught about sex. And she had been a willing student. It was like a dam was breaking when he started fondling her. Less shy and more enthusiastic, she had completely outdone her daughter. Her body was almost as nice as the kid's had been, and her breasts had been a little larger.
With his penis being so large, most women felt tight as he stretched them. The single women were always very tight. The mothers, who had gone through childbirth, usually weren't as snug, but he had always had enough to rub their walls so well that they begged for more.
And now, here he was once again with a mother, and for the first time the mother of a daughter he had fucked. Upon entry that afternoon he had expected her to not be as snug as the daughter had been, and been pleasantly surprised at how nicely she had fit around him.
He had enjoyed her pussy immensely. Probing, prodding, stroking, he had re-sized her to fit him perfectly. If ever a cock and pussy had specifically been designed to fit one another, it had to be the two that they had brought together.
He had enjoyed the mother more than the daughter, actually. Because of her having a husband in near proximity, she was much more of a conquest than the daughter had been. She had totally satisfied him earlier, and he had not expected her to show up in the middle of the night.
As she quietly sucked on his now three-quarter erect penis, he pretended to still be sleeping and thought back about the first time she had come to the barn. When she had walked in, he could tell instantly that she was appraising him. And when he had seen the wine bottle in her hand, smiled at her and she back at him, he had known. This woman was ready. They had not spoken more than three lines and she was in his arms.
Did she know that he had fucked her daughter? He didn't know and was not about to risk messing this up by asking.
Teaching her had been a learning experience for him as well. But most of all, the idea that she was sneaking behind her husband's back had made it all that much more exciting for him. When he placed the pillow under her ass and grabbed her legs and tossed them all the way over his shoulders, she had grinned, groaned, said something in Swiss, and pulled him down so that they could kiss. He was totally buried within her, cock and tongue.
After he had been inside her for awhile, and she had reached orgasm and was working on another, he had tested her feelings about cheating. He couldn't come out and ask because of the language barrier, but there was another way. He did so by taking her ring finger in his hand and then placing it into his mouth.
While fucking her with his dick, he had sucked the finger, ring and all, back and forth into his mouth. Then he had taken her finger out of his mouth and held her hand. While staring into her eyes, he had wriggled the ring around on her finger with his fingers to emphasize that it was the ring he was thinking of.
She had known what he was saying by doing. 'Here is your wedding ring baby; it's the symbol of your marriage. We are here in the barn, and I am madly fucking you while your husband is just yards away. I am taking possession of your body and knowing it intimately. Your body is his sworn property, but I am inside you, and not only that, I am further inside you than he could ever hope to go.
But it was even more than that. As she looked up into his eyes and finally smiled, she was saying in agreement with him; 'Yes, that ring says I am married. I am in the barn with you. We are madly fucking while my husband is nearby. I am freely giving my body and you are taking possession of my body and knowing it intimately'.
But there was one difference. She was also saying to herself; this is 'my' body, it belongs to me, and I am giving it to you willingly. You are inside me, and I have never felt so wonderfully filled within. She had smiled up at him, a sad smile. She felt guilt, but the pleasure was overpowering.
Was there guilt in her eyes, he wondered? Maybe, but when he had placed the same finger into her mouth, she had sucked on the ring. Though her eyes still looked sad as she stared up at him, it didn't seem to faze her. Her hips shoved upwards even harder. She must have been thinking about her marriage, but their sucking on that finger with the ring seemed to arouse her even more.
Actually the mother had been even more than enthusiastic; she had acted like she had never been fucked before. For the most part he had only done the initiating on the kissing. Like her daughter, she had been the one to place herself on her back. Like her daughter she had reached for and guided him. Like her daughter it had been a struggle at first.
Once he had started going completely inside of her, she had outdone her daughter. She had groaned loudly, raised her hips while wrapping her legs around him, and pulled him into her as far as he could go. When he arranged her legs and body this way and that, she went right along for the ride.
Maybe she hadn't really been fucked, he thought, based on the way she had acted. Because of childbirth, she had been able to accept him all the way in a little easier than the daughter. She had not held back his entry like the daughter. Still, she had gasped loudly and beautifully upon his initial entry.
And she liked to talk. He knew enough Swiss to be able to understand most of what she was saying. Once they had begun, she had seemed to crave his cock. Besides working her hips to get as much of him as possible, she had talked about his equipment as he skillfully worked it in and out of her.
He had been able to interpret lines in his mind that sounded like, "I've never felt anything like that before", and when they changed position; "Be gentle until I get used to it."
With a combination of sign language and broken Swiss, he had asked her how many men she had been with. She had answered only two, my husband and you, and the sincerity in her voice and eyes made him believe. He had grinned and fed his peter to her with a sense of pleasure such as he had never felt with the sweet and lovely daughter.
What mommy was saying was a clue that daddy had less to offer. He didn't ask her many questions, but the fact that he was equipped with a penis larger than what was attached to her husband and that he was the only other man to fuck her was a real ego boost.
Now here she was, back for more. I wonder is she would have came back so willingly if I had turned out to be the same size as her husband, or smaller? I think it's cock she is after, and lots of it. He was partially correct. She was after cock, and since he had lots of it, she wanted it. But she wanted more, a little bit of romance perhaps, some kissing and cuddling. Maybe he would provide this for her before she returned to her husband's bed.
Smiling, he watched the top of her head as she lovingly worked her lips and tongue over his dick. She was also trying to feel his balls with one hand, but she could not lift them because he was on his side and his two thighs, lying one on top of the other, were holding his balls in place.
He pretended to still be sleeping and rolled slightly so that he was completely on his back. At the same time he opened his legs a little. This allowed his balls and penis to be completely ******* instead of being partially buried between his legs.
Now she really became enthusiastic. His dick was pointing almost straight up, and she crawled up onto her hands and knees so that she could handle as much of his cock as she could reach. She squeezed it gently. It was huge, so long and thick. Yet, it was not completely hard. It was soft enough that she could make it bend a little.
She unbuttoned the remaining buttons on his drawers. This opened him enough that now his balls were available to her touch. She could not deep throat him because of his width, and that head especially was very wide. But she gave it a try, alternating from placing her mouth over as much as she could to running her teeth and tongue down the sides of his shaft.
And she stroked him with her hands, and then tested his length. Slightly soft still, he had enough to fill both of her hands with some left over. That skin would move up and down, allowing her to stroke him without needing lubrication. He didn't say anything while he grew completely hard. His length grew.
Now he was totally hard. His dick was stiff, so firm that now she could not make it bend as she tested him. Amused at how she seemed to be playing with his cock like a child with a toy, he waited. She would play with her hands and watch, and then resume her sucking. He was waiting to see if she would mount him, but for some reason she didn't.
He could tell though when she again measured him for length. She grasped him with both hands, one above the other, and he still had the entire head left over, untouched, above her upper hand. He was fully two of her hands long, with about a half an inch more to go to the head, and then, the head itself, so thick and long.
And she went back to sucking him. Was she trying to make him come in her mouth? He didn't know, but he preferred to fuck. He could wait no longer and pretended to awaken.
That seemed to be her cue, because she immediately stood up and pulled her gown over her head. She tossed it onto the hay beside him, and he admired her lovely body in the moonlight as she knelt and removed her panties, tossing them on top of the rumpled gown.
A spectator enters.
At that moment, unknown to either of them, her daughter entered the barn. Shocked, she immediately moved over behind a stall, where she could watch without being seen. Mommy, what are you doing? Fortunately, she did not utter her thoughts out loud.
Her mother had been pulling her dress up and off her body just as she had entered, and then had dropped her panties. She wondered, Are they just starting? Is this the first time for mommy with this boy? Is mommy about to discover and enjoy what he had fed to me? Oh mommy, I wanted to make love with him, but you need it even more. Daddy is such a bore, and I can understand why you are in this barn.
With her gown and panties off, mom was back down and beside him instantly. Now up in more ways than one, he proceeded to again give her a demonstration as to what he could do.
As he skillfully fondled her body, she stopped him before he could mount her. She worked him with her hands below and mouth above, and he learned why she had not climbed over him while he was still "asleep." She might have been in a hurry, but she wanted some foreplay. On her previous visit the sex had been physical in nature. This time she wanted to mix some kissing with the physical activities.
He went from being above her to lying beside her. His left arm went under her neck and he drew her closer to him. She was staring into his eyes, looking lonely maybe, or hungry. He wasn't sure, one of those for sure.
He roamed with his hand and she moaned and moved her body to better meet his hand. Now he knew. She wants foreplay. He was glad to oblige, fondling her tits, fingering her snatch, and kissing her hungrily.
She knew some English, and over and over she kept mumbling the word..."yes."
Romance. The kissing was instrumental in bringing her to a level of desire for a man that she had never felt before. He knew how to kiss, and it seemed like, when he was kissing, that he was really thinking about her and nothing else. He even took the time to caress her neck and blow into her ear.
If it is possible for an older married woman to be in love with a younger man whose name she does not even know, it was happening now. She kissed and fondled, outdoing his manipulations of her body. Finally she rolled onto her back and begged him to put it in.
Her daughter was watching with disbelieving eyes. Mommy is kissing and holding that man like she is in love with him, and now she is begging to be fucked. Poor mommy, you have been so starved for good loving. I don't know what Daddy has between the legs, but it's unlikely he has what this young American has to offer.
Her daughter's fingers were busy now, and she planned to come when mommy does.
As he entered her with that healthy young man meat that she craved, the mother groaned softly. She had to control herself from being louder, but she couldn't help but speak out, thanking him for giving her what he had to offer. The mother and wife wanted so bad to let herself go completely, but she was afraid of being heard.
During the day, with cows mooing, chickens clucking and other farm noises, she had not worried about being heard. But now, every sound above a whisper might carry.
When she had been looking out the bedroom window, this young man and what she had done with him had seemed like a dream. And even now, as they fucked in the light of the moon coming in from a window in the loft, it still seemed like a dream.
Dream or not, she had never before today experienced multiple orgasms. Tonight was confirmation of what she had felt in the afternoon. She gasped and groaned, and in the middle of it all she kept thanking him.
The daughter was fascinated. She could hear and understood every word of what mommy was saying, and she knew that the American probably did not understand much Swiss. Mommy is thanking him for fucking her so well. I never knew, never dreamed that mommy could be like this!
The American had demonstrated good control before, but now, after a bottle of wine, he could last even longer. He had what some men referred to as a 'liquor hard on'. He fucked her passionately for about ten minutes, during which time she climaxed at least twice.
When he asked her if she wanted to get on top like she had done during part of her first visit, she somehow understood him and replied that she wanted him to remain where he was. "Just keep kissing me," she pleaded in Swiss. He gave her the kisses she craved, and more.
During her first visit, after the young man had given her a first orgasm, she had mounted him. But that was only so that she could make comparisons with her husband. The young man had felt better, and she had climaxed very quickly after moving her hips around in many different angles. She had felt places being touched that had never been touched before.
What was nicer: the young man had caressed them, but he had not insisted on squeezing her tits while she did the work. He had allowed her to lie where she preferred, and had not interrupted until she had changed her position on her own.
But now her dream lover was on top. She kept the young man inside for about 20 total minutes, long enough for the stud of her dreams to have given her two orgasms before he dumped his load.
About 15 minutes of that 20 had been spent on active fucking. The pillow had been under her head some of the time, her ass the rest. The tender lips and walls of her vagina had received the best workout of their lives. She kept her arms and legs around him so that he could not roll off.
He was wise enough to know that she would want to be held and kissed afterwards. He didn't mind because he could lie here and let it drain into her.
She wanted him inside her forever, but she knew this had to end. If her husband were to awaken and look for her?
Tears in her eyes, she hugged his body, keeping him close. His penis, though softened some, still could be felt within her. Everything was so wet, her pussy, her body, her eyes. She sighed softly and squeezed him, and he, sensing what she craved, kissed her, only this time very softly and romantically. He felt the wetness of her tears on his cheek, and he gave her the tenderness and closeness she so craved.
The daughter continued to watch and her eyes and ears still could not believe or totally accept what was happening. Oh mommy, you needed this so. I do hope that this does not destroy your marriage with daddy. This boy will be gone in the morning.
It was another five minutes before the mother lowered her legs and released the young American. When he pulled out, his penis was still more hard than soft. You could even hear a wet popping sound as the ridge on the bottom portion of that wide head tugged at her lips.
She immediately sat up and stared at his penis. Wet with their juices, it was shining brightly in the moonlight. His penis, as it was going soft, was getting thinner in the shaft first. That head would remain mostly full size until he went completely soft. She was thoughtful enough to go down and use her mouth to clean him up, draining his residual fluid into her mouth.
At that point, thinking that the fucking was finished, the daughter quietly snuck out of the barn. Maybe she would return later, but she doubted the boy would be wanting anymore tonight. In the morning, early, she might try again.
Mom tried to stand and fell back. She felt so weak, even more so than in the early evening, when they had actually spent more time having sex. He helped her rise and held her in his arms. Even now she couldn't keep her hands off him as she cupped his dangling penis in one hand.
For the first time she felt his balls while the boy was standing up. They were large and firm within their sack. Again, he didn't mind. It gave him time to fondle her lovely tits and caress her nicely rounded ass. He knew now for sure, this wife, this mother, is fascinated with my cock. For sure it's much more than she gets in the house.
When his hands dug into her cheeks on each side and pulled, she instantly was reminded of her dance partner. She thought of the man at the bar who liked to dance close to her. This was what it might be like if they were both naked on the dance floor. It was only a fleeting thought, and then it was forgotten.
That head was still big as she wrapped the fingers of one hand around it. She held the head in her hand and wriggled his entire penis back and forth, swinging the entire affair side to side. He responded by kissing her even more and grasping her ass cheeks firmly and squeezing.
She had to get back and moved away from him. She had not thought to bring a towel along. Just like the first time, she was going to end up with a pair of panties soaked with come. There wasn't as much come though, as with her husband. This boy had smaller, thicker loads, and he had been drained several times within a few hours.
He watched as she bent down to slip her panties on, and felt a strange sense of sadness. Already he was lonely. He had enjoyed this woman as no other, and she was leaving. She was just inches away, but already he felt like it was miles. She straightened, and he surprised her by embracing her in his arms. She sighed. This was exactly the kind of closeness she had been craving.
She could not resist, even now, feeling his manhood one more time. Her fingers wrapped around him. Amazingly, he began to grow. She released his shaft reluctantly, bent down and kissed it one last time.
"Yes. Suck it. I can come quickly." He placed a hand on the back of her head and sort of held her there.
She was not sure what he had said, but interpreted it correctly. She placed her lips over his penis, and he grew quickly. He held her head with his hands and guided her. Never once did he try to force his penis deeper.
It was as he had said. Somehow, his youth perhaps, he came quickly. He reached orgasm even before his heart could pump enough blood to fill his penis completely. He was not full, with a totally stiff erection. Still, he was hard enough, and his orgasm was strong. He had been drained, but still was able to give her a teaspoon or more. She giggled and swallowed it all, something she rarely had done for her husband.
When she tried to rise, she almost fell backward and he had to help her up, and then he embraced her with his arms. He surprised her by kissing her, and she still had a strong taste of him in her mouth. Yes, this was what she liked most. He knew how to be romantic, even if it was only to be temporary.
As she was waiting to gain enough strength to return to the house, they kissed long and tenderly before saying their goodbys. She even left some money for him.
With sopping wet panties and an aftertaste that she, for the first time enjoyed, the housewife crept quietly into the bedroom. She held her breath until she heard her husband's soft breathing. Good, he was still sleeping. She went into the bathroom and after spending a few minutes on the toilet, finished up with a sponge bath at the sink.
She was ready to leave when she remembered her panties lying on the floor. God, if I had forgotten those, my husband?
She picked them up. Her panties were soaking wet with slippery come. She grasped the panties with both hands and began kneading the material so that the come was spread out in a much wider area of the panties. That way they might dry quicker. It was not likely her husband would dig down into the hamper and find them, but you never know.
She hid this pair way in the bottom of her laundry hamper, alongside the pair from her first visit. Out of curiosity, she felt around on the other pair. Her fingers touched a wet, sticky glob. They still had not dried completely. Like she had done with the second pair, she wriggled the panties around, spreading his come throughout.
She tossed the panties alongside the other pair and allowed the rest of the laundry to fall on top. As she began to walk away, she did something that normally a man might do if he had discovered the panties just removed from a hot chick. She dug back down into the hamper and pulled out the freshest pair.
She held them between the fingers of both hands, then actually pressed the panties into her face. She felt the sticky wetness, and inhaled deeply. This wetness, this is him. He will be gone in the morning, but he has known and pleasured me like I never knew to be possible. Thank you young American boy.
After reluctantly wiping her face, she crept quietly into bed and listened. Her husband continued to sleep. Good. After placing her hand over her vagina and feeling around her tender lips, she thought back on all she had done with the young man. She even rubbed her clitoris gently, and wondered if she should attempt another orgasm. But she was too tired. Her mind wandered, and she surprisingly found herself thinking of her dance partner.
The young man would be gone. That was one reason why she had chosen him. Her dance partner was here, always, and for that reason she had never allowed things to go further. But now, that was the problem. She had been awakened sexually, and the young man would be gone.
Should she, could she ever sneak with her dance partner? He would be the obvious, easy choice. It would be playing with fire, but right now the thought of it was making her play with herself. The next dance was just one week away.
Disgusted with her dangerous line of thinking, she deliberately, though reluctantly took her hand away from her pussy. She was so tired. She fell asleep within three minutes. For the first time in years, she slept as if dead to the world. Still, she had a smile on her lips, both sets.
The next morning at sunrise, the man in the barn got up and continued on his journey. He waved to the farmer as he left the farm and walked toward the mountain. In his hand was an apple that the daughter had left with him the day before, and he was having it for breakfast.
A short while later, the daughter awakened and jumped out of bed. She had actually overslept because of how much the young man had drained her strength and because she had awakened several times from her dreams. And then she had seen her mother with him, and lost even more sleep.
She hurriedly dressed while her mind was filled with images. They couldn't do it in the barn, but maybe if she walked part way up the mountain with him, they could enjoy one another one more time.
With a repeat performance in mind from the man who had given her not only her most intense orgasms, but also her first orgasms ever by a method other than oral sex or fingers, the daughter came rushing downstairs. She didn't see her mother, who was usually in the kitchen. Mom was still sleeping, unusual for her in the morning, and dreaming.
The daughter went right out to the barn, only to find it empty. Anxious, she went to her father, who was using a pitchfork to toss hay into the corral, and said, "Daddy, where's the man from the barn?"
Father answered, "He left a few minutes ago."
"What?" she cried. "He left without saying goodbye? After all we had together?" Unthinkingly, she blurted out, "I mean, last night he made such passionate love to me."
Whoops! But it was too late.
"What?" shouted the father. His virgin daughter had been ruined? The farmer ran around the barn and into the yard looking up the hill for the man, but by now the man was halfway up the side of the mountain. He was visible only as a moving blob of color far away.
The farmer cupped his mouth and screamed up at him in Swiss, "I'm gonna get you! You had sex with my daughter!"
The young man, who knew he was safely beyond range for the older farmer to catch him, looked back down from the mountainside. He had not understood every word, but he heard enough to know what the farmer was yelling. He was considerate enough not to say anything the Swiss farmer would understand as he cupped his hands next to his mouth, and yelled out in English as the words echoed throughout the mountains,...
"... ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO...."
His words carried across the valley, hit the mountain and came rolling back, slightly quieter but still recognizable. "ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO..."
Both the mother and daughter heard it, as the mother, getting out of bed rushed to the window. Below her in the yard, her daughter smiled as she heard that voice once again, then twice...
"... ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO...."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the origin of yodeling.
Her daughter was watching with disbelieving eyes. 'Mommy is kissing and holding that man like she is in love with him, and now she is begging to be fucked. Poor mommy, you have been so starved for good loving.'
Written by EroticWriter / Jan 25, 2011
Have you ever wondered where and how yodeling began? Here's the true story.
Back in the olden days, an American student was traveling by foot through Switzerland. He was tall, ruggedly handsome and was well built. Nightfall was approaching, and the young man had nowhere to sleep.
He knew a little bit of the Swiss language, so he went up to a farmhouse and asked the farmer if he could spend the night. In those days it was common practice as Inns were far between and often full. Hikers usually carried backpacks, with all they needed for the road.
The farmer told him that he could sleep in the barn. So the man went into the barn to bed down, and the farmer, who had just finished his chores, went into the house. The farmer didn't think much about it because over the years other hikers had bedded down in the barn.
As the story goes, the farmer's teen daughter came downstairs and asked her father, who was reading. "Father, who was that young man I saw going into the barn?"
"That's some fellow traveling through," said the farmer. "I think he might be from America. He needed a place to stay for the night, so I said that he could sleep in the barn."
Well, the teen daughter had seen him from her window. He looked so handsome and she wanted to meet that young man, so the daughter then asked, "Did you offer the man anything to eat"?
"Uh, no, I didn't," the farmer answered. "It looked like he had some provisions in his backpack so I did not bother."
For the most part with only good intentions in her mind, the daughter said, "Well, I'm going to take him some food, just in case." She went to the kitchen and prepared a plate of food.
She peeked around the corner at her father. He was still seated with his novel. So before heading to the barn she ran upstairs and changed into something a little nicer.
She was wearing her hair in pigtails, and had little red ribbons on the end. She put on a black full-skirted dress, and in the bodice area it was white, low cut and showed off the top portions of her melon-sized mounds nicely. The black material in the dress wrapped up and around the sides of her breasts, adding emphasis.
She studied herself in the mirror; Her body looked lovely in this dress. Her nipples were barely covered, and the dress was daringly revealing for the time. She had never worn it since purchasing it three weeks before, and now she could show it off. Of course her daddy had never seen it.
Then, gathering up the tray and making sure that daddy had not seen her change of clothes; she took it out to the barn.
The dress worked even better than she had hoped. The American had an appetite all right, and he proceeded to show her. A little over an hour later she staggered towards the house with a smile on her face. Her clothes were all disheveled and buttoned up wrong, and she had several strands of straw tangled up in her long blond hair.
Carefully avoiding her dad in the living room, she immediately went up the stairs to her bedroom, cleaned up and went to sleep.
A little later, the farmer's wife came down and told her husband that she had heard their daughter going to bed, and since it was so early she was wondering why.
"I don't know," said the farmer. "Earlier I told a young man that he could sleep in the barn, and our daughter took him some food. That's the last I know."
"Oh", replied the wife. Telling a little fib, she said, "I didn't know that we had a guest. Did she take the man anything to drink?"
"Umm, no, I don't think so," said the farmer.
The wife then said, "I would imagine that he's thirsty now so I'm going to take something out for him to drink."
"That's good my dear wife," the farmer replied, anxious to get back to his novel.
"Maybe I'll take out a spare pillow for him too. He might enjoy having something to lie his head upon."
Again the husband acknowledged her, but only by nodding his head.
She shrugged as she headed away. That was typical of her husband. All he ever did was work the farm during the day and read his novels in the evening. The only other two signs of life he displayed were on Friday and Saturday nights.
On Friday nights he went into the village and played cards or darts with his friends. On Saturday night, if things had not come up on Friday, he would have his weekly erection and use it on his wife. Five minutes later, if he was taking his time, it would be all over, usually for him only.
This was Tuesday evening however. Before coming downstairs, the wife had already taken the time to change into something a little nicer than her working dress. Her husband hadn't even noticed.
Instead of selecting water, the wife went to the cellar and got a bottle of wine. She stared at the bottle she held and thought about things for a minute, then, gathering her courage; she headed out to the barn, a pillow in one hand, and the bottle in the other.
This time the circumstances were a little different. Mom's intentions went beyond just being the thoughtful hostess, as her daughter had intended at first. The wife and mother, who was still youthful and quite attractive had not seen the young man enter the barn. But she had just happened to look out the window in time to see her daughter coming out of the barn. Then she had seen her daughter turn to wave at someone inside.
At first the mother had thought nothing of it. It was probably her father she was waving at. As her daughter drew closer to the house, she had seen the smile on her daughter's face. But what concerned the mother the most was what she was wearing. And the condition of her daughter's clothing and hair indicated something was amiss.
Whatever it was that her daughter might have done, she wanted to investigate for herself. Finding out for sure from her husband that there was a man in the barn had confirmed her fears. If she had known in advance, the mother would not have permitted her daughter to enter the barn alone with a stranger present.
Now it looked like it was too late to rectify things. But she still needed to conduct her investigation. As she headed for the barn, the mother really didn't know what she intended to do. Maybe her daughter had not actually done anything, like going all the way with him.
It depended on how the person in the barn acted. If he was nice enough, she might offer him some wine and just talk to him. If he was unpleasant, she might ask her husband to make him leave, but she did not plan to tell her husband how her daughter had looked.
The mother didn't return for an even longer time than her daughter. It was well over an hour and now dark as she turned to wave one last time at the person within. As she left the barn, her clothes were also messed up, and just like her daughter the mother had straw twisted into her blond hair.
When she had gone into the barn, the wife and mother had been pleasantly surprised. 'What a nice young man', she had thought. She had handed him the bottle to open and lain the pillow down next to where there was hay spread out for a mattress upon the floor. His eyes had probed into hers as she had laid that pillow down, and she had blushed and tried to act normal about the whole thing, and not thinking the same thoughts that he might be.
They had shared some of the wine and talked. She had not gotten to the part about "did you do anything with my daughter?" The young man had begun showing her instead.
The wife and mother was grinning when she walked across the yard. Her footsteps were wobbly because her 36- year-old legs were weak and sore from being in positions they had not been placed into for years, if ever.
Her vagina was sore too, well, maybe not sore, but she had a feeling of tenderness down there that reminded her with every step of the amazing equipment the young man had been blessed with. Not just amazing in size, but also in how long it had stayed sizable, over and over again.
Five separate times he had entered her body. The first time he had laid on top and literally 'broken her in.' His adding the pillow under her ass after a minute had allowed him to penetrate deep into her body, and he had given her a first, incredible orgasm.
The second time was to change positions and show her doggy style while standing.
The third time was while he was standing holding her up on his arms while bouncing her up and down on his cock. Somehow their lips had managed to stay locked, and all that combined had brought her to a climax such as she had never dreamed of.
The fourth time was to allow her to ride him resulting in her third orgasm, and the fifth time was so that he could lie on top of her and inject her with what cum he had left after shooting a gallon into her daughter.
She had left the half-empty bottle of wine with the young man, and he had said that he would finish it and get good nights sleep.
Just like her daughter, the mother avoided the man of the house and went straight up the stairs, into the bath and then into bed.
As she lay in bed, she had memories. Did her daughter have the same memories? Maybe later, tomorrow, or maybe never, she would ask her daughter about her visit. If her daughter admitted anything, she might get some details from her. But could she ever tell her daughter about her own visit? That was most probably a not. Fortunately for her, she was thinking, the barn could not be seen from her daughter?s room, so she would never know.
Both women had dreams, very erotic dreams during the night. For the daughter, who had been experimenting with the local youth, her dreams were of finally finding someone who could fulfill her needs. This young man had been another adventure, but out of four, he was the best one so far.
But for the mother, the dreams were more intense. Since her husband seemed not all that interested in sex, she had adopted the same attitude. Through the years she had thought that her needs were being fulfilled, but the young man had made her aware that she had been missing something.
Mom awakened before midnight and was thinking about the young man, all alone and sleeping out in the barn. Her husband just happened to awaken and see her framed in the moonlight as she was looking out of the bedroom window. He asked her if anything was wrong, and the mother replied that she was just going to the bathroom.
"You should come and see how lovely the moon is dear. It is full tonight and looks like it is smiling down on us."
The practical husband had always thought his wife was too romantic in nature. She was always talking about moonlight, flowers, and other frilly things. "Yes dear, I can see the light from here. It is almost bright enough to go out and milk the cows, but I suggest you wait until morning. Now let's go back to sleep."
"Yes dear," she sighed, staring out the window. She had asked her husband to join with her at the window, but he had not been interested. That was his trouble, he was no longer romantic with her. It didn't matter that he was able to get hard any time he wanted.
That was the strange part. He could get hard at any moment, but rarely used it when it came up. Many times when he was sleeping on his back she had seen his erection pushing up on the sheets and turning them into a tent. But for the most part he only expected sex from her on Saturday nights, sometimes Friday, but usually Saturday.
Saturday nights and he would turn into an animal, for a few minutes. Forgotten were his novels. Early to bed and get to the sex, that was his Saturday evening. She had often wondered if perhaps his evening with the boys on Fridays got him all horny from the talk, but if that was the case, why didn't he jump on her when he came home?
But there was more than sex she craved. She also needed foreplay, fantasy and romance. She sighed again as she pretended to be looking up at the Moon, but her eyes were still on the barn.
Fantasy. She had been married to one man for the past 18 years and of course her husband had taken her virginity. She had known no other man before today, but now her mind was filled with strange erotic thoughts.
Her husband still wanted sex, but only when it was convenient for him, and it never lasted long enough for her. Another time, since he was awake, she might have crawled back into bed and reached for him to see if anything came up. If he responded she could get on top and move until she reached her one mild orgasm.
She usually reached climax while on top the easiest if she laid on her husband's chest, with her head close to his. Seldom though would they kiss. As a matter of fact, she usually laid her head on his chest to avoid kissing. That was because if they kissed while she was on top, it was because she had done the initiating.
At this angle, bent way forward, his penis felt the best to her.
It varied on how long things would last. If he was the initiator and on top, it was five minutes. She needed longer and sometimes asked him to go slow. If her day had not been too stressful, and her husband acted like he cared about her orgasm, it might only take her ten to fifteen minutes when he was on top. Other times she would either have to work a little harder to come, or just fake it.
Usually though, she would manage to reach her climax when she was on top. Five or ten minutes were usually sufficient for her. After she groaned softly and came, she wanted to just lie there for awhile. If her husband was being nice, she sometimes wanted to go twice.
He always stayed hard within her whenever she took her break. She liked to remain lying on her husband when she resumed pumping, but he usually wanted her to sit more upright so that he could grab her breasts. If she remarked that it felt better when she was bent forward, he sometimes had replied, "Maybe for you, but I don't like how it gets all sweaty between our bodies".
Well, she liked that sweat. To her it sort of added to the eroticism. But he just didn?t think the same way. On those nights when she could not lie on him, she would continue moving up and down while her husband fondled her tits until he shot his load up into her.
During the times when her husband mounted her, which was only about one third of the time, she could climax if he took his time. As they both grew nearer to their orgasm, he would pound hard into her.
More often than not, he would be there first. Her reaching orgasm with him on top only happened about half the time, so her preference was when she took the superior position.
That had been enough to satisfy her in the past, the physical part. It did not meet her emotional needs, and besides that, she always had to go get a cloth and bathe her husband while he just lay there afterwards. For several years it had been that way. If she got on top and 'used' him for sex, then she had to bathe him.
This was a necessity after their sex because he shot a very large load. She had learned from experience to place a towel under her vagina when she dismounted, otherwise she would drip all over him, the bed, and the floor on the way to the bath.
If he had been on top of her, it did no good for her to just lie there while he cleaned her. He had made the effort in their early months, but there was so much come that she would have to climb out of bed anyhow. So that was the way it was, if she did the work, she cleaned him and herself. If he did the work, she still had to drain and clean herself.
She always had to take care of herself first, otherwise she would have come running out as she walked around. In the beginning, she had tried putting on panties while she cleaned her husband, but they would be soaked within minutes. She would have to clean herself and put on another pair to go to sleep.
She kept going over her sex life in her mind as she stared out the window.
It had become more of a chore than of the afterglow of sex in their early years. When she would return from draining and cleaning in the bath, he would be lying on his back, acting like he was asleep. His dick would be soft, and his come and her juices would be all mixed through his pubic hair, all over his balls and between his thighs. If she didn't wash him, he would stay in bed and eventually get his mess all over the sheets when he rolled over.
She relived those thoughts, going over and over with them in her head. That was the way it usually went, with her on top and doing all the work during and afterwards. Sometimes he would initiate the sex, but if he did, he would get on top and often reach climax before she could. He moved his hips well enough, but her only guarantee of reaching some satisfaction was if she took charge. She never bathed him afterwards, when he had been on top. She would just go to the bath, sit, drain and wipe. If he didn't clean himself, that was too bad.
That was the reason that she had ended up being on top most of the time. Her husband seemed to like that best. She did the work and she did the cleaning. Her husband just provided his cock and acted as if it was the one and only. And she had believed that, until today.
These were the thoughts going through her mind over and over as she stared out the window. Then, she made her decision, a decision that would be risky, but worth it. Tonight, her husband was not going to have his pleasure. Tonight, if she had the nerve to sneak out, she was going to share her body with someone else for the second time.
Her husband had been provided with one last chance. Sighing after her husband had not been interested enough to look at the moon, she went to the bathroom and pretended to be using it. Then she quietly climbed back into bed besides her husband. It sounded like he was already sleeping, but she had to be sure.
She was so horny. Without conscious thought, her right hand found its way to her vagina. The young man had ravaged her body like never in her life, but she needed more. It was more like the American had awakened her in a dream, rather than satisfying her.
She felt down around her pubic area. Most of the tenderness was gone now, but it was wet, very wet just from thinking about the young man. Her fingers touched her clitoris, and she rubbed it gently. She needed fulfillment now! She almost changed her plan. Should she satisfy herself? Should she reach out for her husband? He didn't measure up to the young American, but she needed?.
Her mind was spinning. No, not tonight, she decided again with resolve. She was not going to get on top of her husband this time. In recent years she had spent more time bouncing on top of her husband than he had ever spent on her. Besides, her husband could not satisfy what she was still craving from earlier in the day.
This was her chance. There was someone nearby that appealed to her. She had already given herself to him and he had proven himself. A chance like this might not come up again. Of course there were always other opportunities.
Some men in town from time to time flirted with her, including her husband's buddies. She had always pretended not to be aware of their attentions. What irritated her the most was that her husband never seemed to notice when other men looked at her or flirted. Did he take her so much for granted that he figured no one else would want her, or she, them?
He seemed to be aware of his daughter's appearance, and how she had developed since the age of thirteen. He was protective towards her, although mom suspected that daughter was a little wilder than daddy knew about.
Once a month her husband would take her to a town dance. This was the wife's only contact for the most part with other men. While her husband bragged with his buddies and played darts, she drank a little, and danced. Most dances would only involve touching your partner with hands, but sometimes they danced close.
Until today and the young man's arrival, that had been her big secret, the dances.
One of her husband's drinking buddies always made it a point to ask her onto the floor. She wanted to turn him down, but never did for that might cause her husband to ask questions. It was true that she wanted to say 'No', but something drew her to this man. This man was a bruiser, built like a tank and most of it appeared to be muscle. When he asked her to dance, and she always watched for him to see when that would be, she would start tingling.
Her husband knew that she danced with this man, and sometimes others, but her husband seemed to be blissfully ******* about which songs were playing when this particular man chose to dance with her. She would start tingling between the legs because he picked the times when the dance music was slow and intimate. They even turned the lights down low. With no one able to see, he made it hard for her to ignore his crude attempts at seducing her.
He never said or suggested anything sexual, but he would already be erect as soon as he held her in his arms. He always guided her to the middle of the floor. There, they would be hidden by other people dancing from the view of anyone sitting on the sidelines. It would be just like they had danced the last dance together rather than maybe a month ago.
This man, whom she wanted to avoid but couldn't, would turn her body into his, take one long look into her eyes, then gently pull her against him. Their bodies would simply melt into one another's. By the end of the first dance, she would be sweating. His hard penis would affect her. She did not especially like this man, but his male presence, with that, down there, would arouse her.
What made it worse was the fact that she had to dance even closer to him to avoid the possibility of having to kiss him. He pressed himself against her. But she would press against him too so that her head could lie on his shoulder. That way, she did not have to look into his eyes, and her lips did not come close to his. She had sensed that he wanted to touch her lips with his from the first time they had been together. If he ever tried to kiss her, she did not know how she would react.
The trouble was, when she got in close in order to place her head on his shoulder, that brought her lower half into contact with his lower half. During the first few dances, she had tried to hold her lower portion away, but that had been awkward. So, in effect, her attempt at keeping him away brought her closer to him. Her tits, large and still fairly firm, would press into his chest.
It was a tradition to give your partner two dances, and when they played the slow ones, the songs were usually long. During the second dance he would place his hands on her buttocks and fondle them. He didn't squeeze hard. It was subtle, but he would get good feels as his hands roamed up and down.
She wore long flowing skirts, the kind that would swirl out when she spun around during fast dances. Because of that, when he ran his hands over her lower half, the skirt did not cut down on his ability to feel her curvature. When his hands moved, the loose skirt would move up and down at the same time.
It was never mentioned, but there was no doubt that he was taking liberties. His roaming hands touched her firmly enough that she really couldn't pretend to not know what he was doing. By his feeling and her allowing it to happen, they were in effect, both cheating on their mates. She had to fight hard to not show her feelings of arousal and get away from him when the music concluded.
His wife seldom came to the dances, so he was free to play. If he was seated in the area near her, he always seemed to be able to meet her eyes with his afterwards as she sat with her husband. He would smile knowingly at her, and she never failed to blush.
It always left her confused. This man did not appeal to her in public, but when she was being held close to him, she became aroused. Was there something hidden about herself that she did not know, or was it curiosity about others and frustration with her own love life?
That frustration might have been the reason for her having started to drink a little more in recent months. She only rarely drank at home, maybe some wine with special meals. But the monthly village dance was the time when people let their hair down. She, lately, had been feeling more like doing just that.
The last time she had danced with the man, three weeks ago, things had gone a little further than on previous occasions. She had ***** a little more than usual and was feeling pretty tipsy. He had sensed that right away and had not waited until the second dance to start caressing her ass. His hands had done more than just caressing too.
He had actually squeezed her cheeks, not hard, but firmly enough to constitute a good feel. And then, before the first song finished, he had taken more liberties. Worse, as she had thought about it later, she had allowed him, perhaps because at the time it was too embarrassing for her to stop him.
The song was very slow and romantic, and she was almost forgetting herself and with whom she was dancing. Fortunately, it was quite dark in the center of the dance floor. He had already gone beyond his usual running of his hands up and down over her cheeks.
For the first time, he sort of dug both hands into the crack of her butt and pulled outward slightly. The loose skirt of course, did not hamper his movements. As he tugged outward, this had the effect of spreading her cheeks and allowing him to get a good feel of her buttocks as he was now able to wrap the fingers of both hands around her ass cheeks.
And then, as if to add insult to injury, he spoke to her while his hands were digging into her buttocks. This was the first time he had done that. It wasn't much of a conversation, for him, five words. For her, it was only three. But it probably indicated that he was thinking beyond this dancing with one another once a month.
With his penis pressed firmly against her, he asked her if she was happy at home, and she defensively replied "of course. Very!" But he continued to caress her ass, and she allowed it to happen. She had wanted to act uppity and ask him why he wanted to know, but that would enable him to open up a conversation that she knew would only head in one direction.
He continued to hold onto her ass, fingers firmly wrapped around each buttock. With a firm handhold on her lower half, he was able to pull her even tighter against him. His penis was digging into her it was so hard.
She had wondered before, but now she really thought about it. How big was it? She couldn't tell as he pressed up against her. It was hard for sure, and there was no doubt that he would be able to perform quite ably if she ever tested him. She even wondered about his wife, and if his wife took care of her man when he asked. One thing for sure, he undoubtedly wanted it more than one night a week.
And then he had gone one step further. It was subtle, very subtle, but he released one cheek of her ass and moved his right hand upward between their bodies. It landed on her left breast. He didn't squeeze hard, and at first she didn't know he was touching her there. Because she did not immediately stop him he was able to caress her, squeezing just enough to feel her size, and shape.
When she realized that he was cupping her breast, it was too late. Now she knew, but there seemed to be no way to stop him without speaking out. She remained silent, and he continued to fondle.
He teased her nipple between his fingers, and she became aware that both her nipples were erect as if they were linked. She sensed that he was about to raise his other hand onto her other breast, but the music came to an end.
He removed his hand from her breast, but there was still another song to go. As the couples left space around them, the lights started to come up slightly. Their privacy of darkness was gone.
As always, they stopped dancing and stood in the center of the floor until the other couples had either begun moving back to their tables or remained on the floor. It was a good opportunity to make casual conversation, but they never spoke. He would just look at her, then look around at wave at someone or even speak to other persons, but never to her. It was time for the second dance.
The lights went down. When the second song began, he immediately and boldly placed his right hand back onto her tit and his left hand on her ass. This time, since he had just departed the area, he was not subtle, or you could say not sneaky about it.
He pulled her hips forward, causing his penis to press firmly into her pelvic area. He danced slowly with her in that manner, moving slow, staying very close, and holding her everywhere. He was feeling her more intimately now as his hand squeezed her breast.
Then she felt his hand leave her breast. For a moment she wondered where it was going. She found out instantly and in a shocking manner. He pulled his lower body away from hers slightly and his hand started pulling up her skirt. He had it up almost before she realized it.
What he was doing was between their bodies and no one could see in the dim light. When her skirt was high enough, he caught the hem under his wrist to hold it up, then used his hand to go there!
Shocked, she trembled at his touch. He was feeling her on the vagina. On the outside of her panties, yes, but it was her most intimate part. She was embarrassed too, not necessarily because he was feeling her vagina, but because she was already soaking wet, and he now knew it.
Confused, and unsure as to how to handle this without creating a scene, she allowed him to explore. He used one finger to push firmly against her panties and followed the contour of her slit the entire length. He moved up from the lower portion and ended up directly over her clitoris.
Her dancing became less smooth. She was trembling. Her pussy was wet. He could feel the slippery stickiness oozing completely through her panties for sure. Then he did the unthinkable. He used his finger to go under her panties from the side and slipped the tip inside. It was just a little ways, but enough that he could feel her insides. They took several slow steps around the floor while he held his finger in place.
Forbidden territory! Her promise to her husband of exclusive marital bliss was now being violated. This man was fondling her in an area that had been promised to another, and she was allowing it to happen. Worse, it was one of his so-called best friends that she was allowing to know her intimately.
She felt weak, and her pace slowed. He slowed with her and they were basically standing in the middle of the floor. At that moment, their being on the floor was more for the purpose of fondling rather than dancing. He moved his face directly in front of hers, forcing her to meet his eyes. Then he went deeper with a finger, far enough to feel her tightness as her vagina clamped around his finger. She moaned softly, her eyes betraying her as well as they looked into his with a mixture of disbelief and desire.
He pressed forward with his finger, going as deep as finger length would allow. She moaned again. Her body was betraying her. If this continued, she might reach orgasm, even if he didn't stroke it in and out. There was no use playing the role now of the innocent and wronged housewife. She was a part of this; a willing participant and he would always know that. She knew that she should make a pretense at dancing again, or perhaps even walk off the floor. But she was unable to move.
Willing or not, she was very aroused. All she needed was another minute and maybe a kiss. The music neared the end. They both knew the song, and how it ended. Reluctantly, he pulled his finger out of her hole, went higher and pressed the tip of his finger against her aroused little bud as if to say 'goodbye.' He rubbed up and down against her twice, and she moaned. Then he removed his hand and allowed her skirt to fall.
Sweating profusely, she had deliberately avoided his eyes when they parted. But she knew; he was probably thinking of asking her if they could do more, alone, somewhere, sometime. If there had been more time tonight, a third dance perhaps, he would probably have made his move. She had been under the influence of alcohol, and she was unsure as to what her reply would have been.
Still, she had allowed him to go further than ever before. He had taken substantial liberties with his hands. He would certainly be justified in asking her to meet him secretly for some good fucking. If she fucked him, it would certainly be different that what she was used to.
Besides the possibility of a variation in penis size, the man was much larger than her husband was. Not so much in height, there he was maybe a couple of inches taller. But he was way wider as well. She could barely wrap her arms around him when they danced. In bed, he might squash the life out of her if he were to lie his full weight upon her.
One thing for sure, something that had left a lasting impression upon her, he certainly had been able to identify her clitoris and give her a nip in the bud. She was so aroused by then that a finger inside had been the obvious next step for him to take, and by then she had been craving his touch. Just another minute of fingering, probably less with a kiss, and she would have had an orgasm.
She had done much thinking about it later, and had been fantasizing on that man the next time her husband had fucked her. She knew that the next time they were together in the middle of the dance floor, he would not bother to start from scratch again. If it was as dark as usual, he would begin right where he had left off. Within seconds his finger would be probing her, and probably during the first three lines of the song. She did not plan to stop him, and might even try to achieve orgasm.
There was an open patio at one side of the dance floor. During a dance they could probably sneak outside and do, something, maybe a fuck while standing up. She had already envisioned herself sitting on the edge of one of the patio tables while the man was between her legs, driving his manhood deep into her and making her climax, over and over.
But to go beyond the dance floor and act on her desires by cheating on her husband with someone local? That would be playing with fire. She might never get up the actual bravado to do so. The young man from America though, was different. When the morning came, he would be gone, and no one would ever know.
Unknown to her, another man had seen what was happening between her and her dance partner. He knew her and her husband, and he knew the other man. Hardly believing his eyes, he had seen the man's hand as it went up under her skirt. He had taken note of her face and how she had been reacting to the man and whatever he was doing under her skirt.
Next time, next month when she showed up, he planned to ask her for a dance. He hoped that in the meantime, she didn't secretly meet with the man who had been fondling her and start an affair. If she was going to be cheating, he wanted to catch her first.
The recently awakened wife didn't as yet know it, but she not only had one in the barn, she had two waiting in the wings.
THE ORIGIN OF YODELING Part Two
Written by EroticWriter / Jan 26, 2011
The wife and mother lay in bed and waited almost another hour. Her husband was asleep, but not so soundly as to snore. She waited, patiently, and impatiently.
She heard the chime on the clock downstairs and counted, ten, eleven, midnight. Now it was tomorrow. Then her husband did what she knew he would. He woke up and went to the bathroom.
Finally! It was even later this night than usual. Once in a great while, when he returned from the bathroom, he would be erect and slide into bed on her right side, placing his body, and his erection, tight against her. Had he just awakened from an erotic dream? Did he play with himself in the bathroom? She didn't know.
She had never turned him down, because those times were when he seemed to be the hardest and the most aggressive. He might even kiss her more than once. Only on those nights would she reach an orgasm that might match or top the ones she achieved when she was on him and doing the work.
But tonight, she did not want that to happen. For the first time, she really hoped that he would come out of that bathroom and get into bed on his own side. He was right-handed and always got on the right side of her when he wanted to feel her up beforehand. But he slept on the left of her, with his back turned away.
She waited, and he returned to bed, getting in on his own side. He turned his back and she remained quiet, pretending to be asleep. Her body was trembling as she tried to lie quietly. Even now, there was the slight possibility that he might turn around. She waited, five minutes, ten. He had stayed on his own side. Good!
This was the routine, but once he went back to sleep, it was unlikely he would wake again until the chickens crowed. She lay there quietly, still hoping that her husband would not reach out for her. If he did, she would have to respond.
When her husband was snoring, she crept out to the barn. She was wearing only a nightgown, with nothing underneath but a pair of panties and her lush body. She didn't plan to stay long this time, maybe just long enough to place her lips around the young man's amazing equipment. She had not sucked on his magnificent meat in the afternoon.
She very much wanted to feel it as she wrapped her lips around it. Then she wanted to taste it and feel it rise. Then, when he had reached his magnificence, they could have a quickie.
The young American had given her a quickie that afternoon, the first fuck. That was probably because he had not known how long she could stay and had not held back. But amazingly, she had climaxed with him. She could hardly believe it. He had given her an orgasm within three or four minutes. When she had stayed, the next time for her, and the time after that for both of them, the act had lasted much longer.
After his quickie tonight he could last longer, she knew, and she would have more time to enjoy his penis.
She saw the bottle lying nearby and knew that the young man had finished off the wine. He was sleeping so soundly with his head on the pillow that he had not heard her enter. She hoped that he was not so intoxicated that he might not be able to perform. Through a open window in the loft there was moonlight falling into the area where he was lying. She luckily had came to the barn at just the right time for the moonlight to be where she needed to see.
She admired his handsome face, looking so innocent as he slept. He was on his side, facing her, with his upper leg in front of the lower. Kneeling beside him she reached out, lifting his bedcover. He was sleeping only with underwear on. His dick was hidden in there somewhere.
She undid two buttons, reached in with a trembling hand and felt around. It was hanging down below. Very gently she pulled his long uncut penis out without awakening him. This was the first time she had seen it in any condition other than hard and erect.
She gently released his manhood from her hand and let the penis lie across his thigh. It was so long that it actually followed the curve of his leg. Most of his body was tanned a golden color, but not his penis. It was white, and very bright in the moonlight. It looked so lovely lying there.
Strangely, because of the length, it looked thin. She knew that thin look was deceptive. Even now, when it was soft, it was still longer and as wide as her husband was when his penis was hard. And this penis, she knew, when it grew would get thicker as well, much thicker.
She sighed as she remembered. She had never been stretched like that before, and that thickness was what she was craving most. For some reason, her thoughts turned to her dance partner. He was big, big and wide. He might be thick like this too. If that was the case, it might make taking the risk of seeing him all the more worthwhile. It was something to think about.
Trying not to wake the American yet, she gently began pulling the foreskin of his penis back so that she could see that delicious head ******* to view. That head was amazing as well. Now it looked to be barely wider than the shaft, but when it was filled with blood, it was almost as big as a plum.
The skin rolled back, and she smiled. There it is. She lay down in front of him and slid her body closer until her mouth was close enough to touch. He had not been able to bathe after their sex. *******, the head had a smell, a kind of nice smell she knew to be her, and her sex from several hours earlier. Unable to resist any longer, she wrapped her lips around him. She did it gently, trying to see if she could get him all the way up without his being awake.
She held his shaft in one hand and sucked. While he was soft she could get her mouth completely over his head, but barely. She sucked gently, running her tongue around his head. It grew slowly because he was in a sleep made deeper by the effects of wine. Also, he had climaxed twice with the daughter and twice with the mother.
He began to awaken when his penis was halfway to full. It took him the better part of minute to fully grasp what was happening, and in the meantime he grew closer to full erection. That felt really good. It wasn't a dream. He was receiving a blowjob. Was it the daughter, or her mother?
He laid quietly, eyes closed, enjoying the sensations of having a nice warm mouth over his dick head. Then a thought hit him. What if it was the father? No, of course not, but he almost giggled out loud. What an adventure that would be; first the daughter, then the mother, and then, the father. He wouldn't return the favor, but if daddy wanted to suck, that was fine with him. But as he dreamily enjoyed the sensations, he could tell, the mouth around him was small, and definitely feminine.
He pretended to be asleep and trying not to alert her he raised his head slightly from the pillow for a look to see whom it was. Whichever woman it was, she was running her tongue around as well as anyone he had ever experienced. 'Well hello, Mom', he thought.
He wasn't surprised at who it was. If he were a betting man, he would have bet that the mother, even though she would have to leave her husband's bed, would be the one to come out for seconds. The wife/mother would not have the opportunities for sexual experimentation that the daughter had. She was married and on the farm. Given an opportunity like this, she would be very likely to take it. And she had.
Smiling in the dark, the young man enjoyed his blowjob and thought back. The daughter had been shy but experimental. He had grabbed her close to him within two minutes after she had entered the barn. Her blouse was stretch material on top and he had pulled it down, ******** her globes to his view, and touch. Her tits had been very firm and upright and he had given them lots of attention.
When he had opened his trousers, she had reached in on her own. She had let out a little gasp and excitedly pulled him out. Within seconds after wrapping her fingers around him and a long kiss, she had gone to her back on the straw.
Though she had not been a virgin when he had entered her, that teen pussy had felt virtually untapped by any other man. She had held him away with her hands to keep him from penetrating her too fast. Yet, at the same time, she had pulled him in. Her cries of pleasure were music to a man's ears. He had enjoyed teaching her what sex was all about.
He had fucked her for several minutes, placing her into two different positions, and then surprised her by getting off and going down on her. No man, any one of the three, had ever done that, placed his mouth on her vagina, and the fact that he had actually held off his own pleasure to do something like that had been like a miracle to her.
He had been the first person to eat her, and he had been the first boy that she had kept her mouth on until the come flowed forth. She had even swallowed some, but not all of it. And when he gone back to fucking her, she had been very open about how good he felt, and how he had given her pleasure she could only dream about.
Though she knew a little English, most of the words she gasped out he could not understand, being in a language foreign to him. But the tone of her voice, and her actions spoke louder than words.
The fact that she had not mentioned him having to pull it out before he came had made it even better. If she got pregnant, that would be her worry, he would be long gone. He had dropped a load into her that might have been his largest ever, if she hadn't already drained some off with her mouth.
But the mother too had needed to be taught about sex. And she had been a willing student. It was like a dam was breaking when he started fondling her. Less shy and more enthusiastic, she had completely outdone her daughter. Her body was almost as nice as the kid's had been, and her breasts had been a little larger.
With his penis being so large, most women felt tight as he stretched them. The single women were always very tight. The mothers, who had gone through childbirth, usually weren't as snug, but he had always had enough to rub their walls so well that they begged for more.
And now, here he was once again with a mother, and for the first time the mother of a daughter he had fucked. Upon entry that afternoon he had expected her to not be as snug as the daughter had been, and been pleasantly surprised at how nicely she had fit around him.
He had enjoyed her pussy immensely. Probing, prodding, stroking, he had re-sized her to fit him perfectly. If ever a cock and pussy had specifically been designed to fit one another, it had to be the two that they had brought together.
He had enjoyed the mother more than the daughter, actually. Because of her having a husband in near proximity, she was much more of a conquest than the daughter had been. She had totally satisfied him earlier, and he had not expected her to show up in the middle of the night.
As she quietly sucked on his now three-quarter erect penis, he pretended to still be sleeping and thought back about the first time she had come to the barn. When she had walked in, he could tell instantly that she was appraising him. And when he had seen the wine bottle in her hand, smiled at her and she back at him, he had known. This woman was ready. They had not spoken more than three lines and she was in his arms.
Did she know that he had fucked her daughter? He didn't know and was not about to risk messing this up by asking.
Teaching her had been a learning experience for him as well. But most of all, the idea that she was sneaking behind her husband's back had made it all that much more exciting for him. When he placed the pillow under her ass and grabbed her legs and tossed them all the way over his shoulders, she had grinned, groaned, said something in Swiss, and pulled him down so that they could kiss. He was totally buried within her, cock and tongue.
After he had been inside her for awhile, and she had reached orgasm and was working on another, he had tested her feelings about cheating. He couldn't come out and ask because of the language barrier, but there was another way. He did so by taking her ring finger in his hand and then placing it into his mouth.
While fucking her with his dick, he had sucked the finger, ring and all, back and forth into his mouth. Then he had taken her finger out of his mouth and held her hand. While staring into her eyes, he had wriggled the ring around on her finger with his fingers to emphasize that it was the ring he was thinking of.
She had known what he was saying by doing. 'Here is your wedding ring baby; it's the symbol of your marriage. We are here in the barn, and I am madly fucking you while your husband is just yards away. I am taking possession of your body and knowing it intimately. Your body is his sworn property, but I am inside you, and not only that, I am further inside you than he could ever hope to go.
But it was even more than that. As she looked up into his eyes and finally smiled, she was saying in agreement with him; 'Yes, that ring says I am married. I am in the barn with you. We are madly fucking while my husband is nearby. I am freely giving my body and you are taking possession of my body and knowing it intimately'.
But there was one difference. She was also saying to herself; this is 'my' body, it belongs to me, and I am giving it to you willingly. You are inside me, and I have never felt so wonderfully filled within. She had smiled up at him, a sad smile. She felt guilt, but the pleasure was overpowering.
Was there guilt in her eyes, he wondered? Maybe, but when he had placed the same finger into her mouth, she had sucked on the ring. Though her eyes still looked sad as she stared up at him, it didn't seem to faze her. Her hips shoved upwards even harder. She must have been thinking about her marriage, but their sucking on that finger with the ring seemed to arouse her even more.
Actually the mother had been even more than enthusiastic; she had acted like she had never been fucked before. For the most part he had only done the initiating on the kissing. Like her daughter, she had been the one to place herself on her back. Like her daughter she had reached for and guided him. Like her daughter it had been a struggle at first.
Once he had started going completely inside of her, she had outdone her daughter. She had groaned loudly, raised her hips while wrapping her legs around him, and pulled him into her as far as he could go. When he arranged her legs and body this way and that, she went right along for the ride.
Maybe she hadn't really been fucked, he thought, based on the way she had acted. Because of childbirth, she had been able to accept him all the way in a little easier than the daughter. She had not held back his entry like the daughter. Still, she had gasped loudly and beautifully upon his initial entry.
And she liked to talk. He knew enough Swiss to be able to understand most of what she was saying. Once they had begun, she had seemed to crave his cock. Besides working her hips to get as much of him as possible, she had talked about his equipment as he skillfully worked it in and out of her.
He had been able to interpret lines in his mind that sounded like, "I've never felt anything like that before", and when they changed position; "Be gentle until I get used to it."
With a combination of sign language and broken Swiss, he had asked her how many men she had been with. She had answered only two, my husband and you, and the sincerity in her voice and eyes made him believe. He had grinned and fed his peter to her with a sense of pleasure such as he had never felt with the sweet and lovely daughter.
What mommy was saying was a clue that daddy had less to offer. He didn't ask her many questions, but the fact that he was equipped with a penis larger than what was attached to her husband and that he was the only other man to fuck her was a real ego boost.
Now here she was, back for more. I wonder is she would have came back so willingly if I had turned out to be the same size as her husband, or smaller? I think it's cock she is after, and lots of it. He was partially correct. She was after cock, and since he had lots of it, she wanted it. But she wanted more, a little bit of romance perhaps, some kissing and cuddling. Maybe he would provide this for her before she returned to her husband's bed.
Smiling, he watched the top of her head as she lovingly worked her lips and tongue over his dick. She was also trying to feel his balls with one hand, but she could not lift them because he was on his side and his two thighs, lying one on top of the other, were holding his balls in place.
He pretended to still be sleeping and rolled slightly so that he was completely on his back. At the same time he opened his legs a little. This allowed his balls and penis to be completely ******* instead of being partially buried between his legs.
Now she really became enthusiastic. His dick was pointing almost straight up, and she crawled up onto her hands and knees so that she could handle as much of his cock as she could reach. She squeezed it gently. It was huge, so long and thick. Yet, it was not completely hard. It was soft enough that she could make it bend a little.
She unbuttoned the remaining buttons on his drawers. This opened him enough that now his balls were available to her touch. She could not deep throat him because of his width, and that head especially was very wide. But she gave it a try, alternating from placing her mouth over as much as she could to running her teeth and tongue down the sides of his shaft.
And she stroked him with her hands, and then tested his length. Slightly soft still, he had enough to fill both of her hands with some left over. That skin would move up and down, allowing her to stroke him without needing lubrication. He didn't say anything while he grew completely hard. His length grew.
Now he was totally hard. His dick was stiff, so firm that now she could not make it bend as she tested him. Amused at how she seemed to be playing with his cock like a child with a toy, he waited. She would play with her hands and watch, and then resume her sucking. He was waiting to see if she would mount him, but for some reason she didn't.
He could tell though when she again measured him for length. She grasped him with both hands, one above the other, and he still had the entire head left over, untouched, above her upper hand. He was fully two of her hands long, with about a half an inch more to go to the head, and then, the head itself, so thick and long.
And she went back to sucking him. Was she trying to make him come in her mouth? He didn't know, but he preferred to fuck. He could wait no longer and pretended to awaken.
That seemed to be her cue, because she immediately stood up and pulled her gown over her head. She tossed it onto the hay beside him, and he admired her lovely body in the moonlight as she knelt and removed her panties, tossing them on top of the rumpled gown.
A spectator enters.
At that moment, unknown to either of them, her daughter entered the barn. Shocked, she immediately moved over behind a stall, where she could watch without being seen. Mommy, what are you doing? Fortunately, she did not utter her thoughts out loud.
Her mother had been pulling her dress up and off her body just as she had entered, and then had dropped her panties. She wondered, Are they just starting? Is this the first time for mommy with this boy? Is mommy about to discover and enjoy what he had fed to me? Oh mommy, I wanted to make love with him, but you need it even more. Daddy is such a bore, and I can understand why you are in this barn.
With her gown and panties off, mom was back down and beside him instantly. Now up in more ways than one, he proceeded to again give her a demonstration as to what he could do.
As he skillfully fondled her body, she stopped him before he could mount her. She worked him with her hands below and mouth above, and he learned why she had not climbed over him while he was still "asleep." She might have been in a hurry, but she wanted some foreplay. On her previous visit the sex had been physical in nature. This time she wanted to mix some kissing with the physical activities.
He went from being above her to lying beside her. His left arm went under her neck and he drew her closer to him. She was staring into his eyes, looking lonely maybe, or hungry. He wasn't sure, one of those for sure.
He roamed with his hand and she moaned and moved her body to better meet his hand. Now he knew. She wants foreplay. He was glad to oblige, fondling her tits, fingering her snatch, and kissing her hungrily.
She knew some English, and over and over she kept mumbling the word..."yes."
Romance. The kissing was instrumental in bringing her to a level of desire for a man that she had never felt before. He knew how to kiss, and it seemed like, when he was kissing, that he was really thinking about her and nothing else. He even took the time to caress her neck and blow into her ear.
If it is possible for an older married woman to be in love with a younger man whose name she does not even know, it was happening now. She kissed and fondled, outdoing his manipulations of her body. Finally she rolled onto her back and begged him to put it in.
Her daughter was watching with disbelieving eyes. Mommy is kissing and holding that man like she is in love with him, and now she is begging to be fucked. Poor mommy, you have been so starved for good loving. I don't know what Daddy has between the legs, but it's unlikely he has what this young American has to offer.
Her daughter's fingers were busy now, and she planned to come when mommy does.
As he entered her with that healthy young man meat that she craved, the mother groaned softly. She had to control herself from being louder, but she couldn't help but speak out, thanking him for giving her what he had to offer. The mother and wife wanted so bad to let herself go completely, but she was afraid of being heard.
During the day, with cows mooing, chickens clucking and other farm noises, she had not worried about being heard. But now, every sound above a whisper might carry.
When she had been looking out the bedroom window, this young man and what she had done with him had seemed like a dream. And even now, as they fucked in the light of the moon coming in from a window in the loft, it still seemed like a dream.
Dream or not, she had never before today experienced multiple orgasms. Tonight was confirmation of what she had felt in the afternoon. She gasped and groaned, and in the middle of it all she kept thanking him.
The daughter was fascinated. She could hear and understood every word of what mommy was saying, and she knew that the American probably did not understand much Swiss. Mommy is thanking him for fucking her so well. I never knew, never dreamed that mommy could be like this!
The American had demonstrated good control before, but now, after a bottle of wine, he could last even longer. He had what some men referred to as a 'liquor hard on'. He fucked her passionately for about ten minutes, during which time she climaxed at least twice.
When he asked her if she wanted to get on top like she had done during part of her first visit, she somehow understood him and replied that she wanted him to remain where he was. "Just keep kissing me," she pleaded in Swiss. He gave her the kisses she craved, and more.
During her first visit, after the young man had given her a first orgasm, she had mounted him. But that was only so that she could make comparisons with her husband. The young man had felt better, and she had climaxed very quickly after moving her hips around in many different angles. She had felt places being touched that had never been touched before.
What was nicer: the young man had caressed them, but he had not insisted on squeezing her tits while she did the work. He had allowed her to lie where she preferred, and had not interrupted until she had changed her position on her own.
But now her dream lover was on top. She kept the young man inside for about 20 total minutes, long enough for the stud of her dreams to have given her two orgasms before he dumped his load.
About 15 minutes of that 20 had been spent on active fucking. The pillow had been under her head some of the time, her ass the rest. The tender lips and walls of her vagina had received the best workout of their lives. She kept her arms and legs around him so that he could not roll off.
He was wise enough to know that she would want to be held and kissed afterwards. He didn't mind because he could lie here and let it drain into her.
She wanted him inside her forever, but she knew this had to end. If her husband were to awaken and look for her?
Tears in her eyes, she hugged his body, keeping him close. His penis, though softened some, still could be felt within her. Everything was so wet, her pussy, her body, her eyes. She sighed softly and squeezed him, and he, sensing what she craved, kissed her, only this time very softly and romantically. He felt the wetness of her tears on his cheek, and he gave her the tenderness and closeness she so craved.
The daughter continued to watch and her eyes and ears still could not believe or totally accept what was happening. Oh mommy, you needed this so. I do hope that this does not destroy your marriage with daddy. This boy will be gone in the morning.
It was another five minutes before the mother lowered her legs and released the young American. When he pulled out, his penis was still more hard than soft. You could even hear a wet popping sound as the ridge on the bottom portion of that wide head tugged at her lips.
She immediately sat up and stared at his penis. Wet with their juices, it was shining brightly in the moonlight. His penis, as it was going soft, was getting thinner in the shaft first. That head would remain mostly full size until he went completely soft. She was thoughtful enough to go down and use her mouth to clean him up, draining his residual fluid into her mouth.
At that point, thinking that the fucking was finished, the daughter quietly snuck out of the barn. Maybe she would return later, but she doubted the boy would be wanting anymore tonight. In the morning, early, she might try again.
Mom tried to stand and fell back. She felt so weak, even more so than in the early evening, when they had actually spent more time having sex. He helped her rise and held her in his arms. Even now she couldn't keep her hands off him as she cupped his dangling penis in one hand.
For the first time she felt his balls while the boy was standing up. They were large and firm within their sack. Again, he didn't mind. It gave him time to fondle her lovely tits and caress her nicely rounded ass. He knew now for sure, this wife, this mother, is fascinated with my cock. For sure it's much more than she gets in the house.
When his hands dug into her cheeks on each side and pulled, she instantly was reminded of her dance partner. She thought of the man at the bar who liked to dance close to her. This was what it might be like if they were both naked on the dance floor. It was only a fleeting thought, and then it was forgotten.
That head was still big as she wrapped the fingers of one hand around it. She held the head in her hand and wriggled his entire penis back and forth, swinging the entire affair side to side. He responded by kissing her even more and grasping her ass cheeks firmly and squeezing.
She had to get back and moved away from him. She had not thought to bring a towel along. Just like the first time, she was going to end up with a pair of panties soaked with come. There wasn't as much come though, as with her husband. This boy had smaller, thicker loads, and he had been drained several times within a few hours.
He watched as she bent down to slip her panties on, and felt a strange sense of sadness. Already he was lonely. He had enjoyed this woman as no other, and she was leaving. She was just inches away, but already he felt like it was miles. She straightened, and he surprised her by embracing her in his arms. She sighed. This was exactly the kind of closeness she had been craving.
She could not resist, even now, feeling his manhood one more time. Her fingers wrapped around him. Amazingly, he began to grow. She released his shaft reluctantly, bent down and kissed it one last time.
"Yes. Suck it. I can come quickly." He placed a hand on the back of her head and sort of held her there.
She was not sure what he had said, but interpreted it correctly. She placed her lips over his penis, and he grew quickly. He held her head with his hands and guided her. Never once did he try to force his penis deeper.
It was as he had said. Somehow, his youth perhaps, he came quickly. He reached orgasm even before his heart could pump enough blood to fill his penis completely. He was not full, with a totally stiff erection. Still, he was hard enough, and his orgasm was strong. He had been drained, but still was able to give her a teaspoon or more. She giggled and swallowed it all, something she rarely had done for her husband.
When she tried to rise, she almost fell backward and he had to help her up, and then he embraced her with his arms. He surprised her by kissing her, and she still had a strong taste of him in her mouth. Yes, this was what she liked most. He knew how to be romantic, even if it was only to be temporary.
As she was waiting to gain enough strength to return to the house, they kissed long and tenderly before saying their goodbys. She even left some money for him.
With sopping wet panties and an aftertaste that she, for the first time enjoyed, the housewife crept quietly into the bedroom. She held her breath until she heard her husband's soft breathing. Good, he was still sleeping. She went into the bathroom and after spending a few minutes on the toilet, finished up with a sponge bath at the sink.
She was ready to leave when she remembered her panties lying on the floor. God, if I had forgotten those, my husband?
She picked them up. Her panties were soaking wet with slippery come. She grasped the panties with both hands and began kneading the material so that the come was spread out in a much wider area of the panties. That way they might dry quicker. It was not likely her husband would dig down into the hamper and find them, but you never know.
She hid this pair way in the bottom of her laundry hamper, alongside the pair from her first visit. Out of curiosity, she felt around on the other pair. Her fingers touched a wet, sticky glob. They still had not dried completely. Like she had done with the second pair, she wriggled the panties around, spreading his come throughout.
She tossed the panties alongside the other pair and allowed the rest of the laundry to fall on top. As she began to walk away, she did something that normally a man might do if he had discovered the panties just removed from a hot chick. She dug back down into the hamper and pulled out the freshest pair.
She held them between the fingers of both hands, then actually pressed the panties into her face. She felt the sticky wetness, and inhaled deeply. This wetness, this is him. He will be gone in the morning, but he has known and pleasured me like I never knew to be possible. Thank you young American boy.
After reluctantly wiping her face, she crept quietly into bed and listened. Her husband continued to sleep. Good. After placing her hand over her vagina and feeling around her tender lips, she thought back on all she had done with the young man. She even rubbed her clitoris gently, and wondered if she should attempt another orgasm. But she was too tired. Her mind wandered, and she surprisingly found herself thinking of her dance partner.
The young man would be gone. That was one reason why she had chosen him. Her dance partner was here, always, and for that reason she had never allowed things to go further. But now, that was the problem. She had been awakened sexually, and the young man would be gone.
Should she, could she ever sneak with her dance partner? He would be the obvious, easy choice. It would be playing with fire, but right now the thought of it was making her play with herself. The next dance was just one week away.
Disgusted with her dangerous line of thinking, she deliberately, though reluctantly took her hand away from her pussy. She was so tired. She fell asleep within three minutes. For the first time in years, she slept as if dead to the world. Still, she had a smile on her lips, both sets.
The next morning at sunrise, the man in the barn got up and continued on his journey. He waved to the farmer as he left the farm and walked toward the mountain. In his hand was an apple that the daughter had left with him the day before, and he was having it for breakfast.
A short while later, the daughter awakened and jumped out of bed. She had actually overslept because of how much the young man had drained her strength and because she had awakened several times from her dreams. And then she had seen her mother with him, and lost even more sleep.
She hurriedly dressed while her mind was filled with images. They couldn't do it in the barn, but maybe if she walked part way up the mountain with him, they could enjoy one another one more time.
With a repeat performance in mind from the man who had given her not only her most intense orgasms, but also her first orgasms ever by a method other than oral sex or fingers, the daughter came rushing downstairs. She didn't see her mother, who was usually in the kitchen. Mom was still sleeping, unusual for her in the morning, and dreaming.
The daughter went right out to the barn, only to find it empty. Anxious, she went to her father, who was using a pitchfork to toss hay into the corral, and said, "Daddy, where's the man from the barn?"
Father answered, "He left a few minutes ago."
"What?" she cried. "He left without saying goodbye? After all we had together?" Unthinkingly, she blurted out, "I mean, last night he made such passionate love to me."
Whoops! But it was too late.
"What?" shouted the father. His virgin daughter had been ruined? The farmer ran around the barn and into the yard looking up the hill for the man, but by now the man was halfway up the side of the mountain. He was visible only as a moving blob of color far away.
The farmer cupped his mouth and screamed up at him in Swiss, "I'm gonna get you! You had sex with my daughter!"
The young man, who knew he was safely beyond range for the older farmer to catch him, looked back down from the mountainside. He had not understood every word, but he heard enough to know what the farmer was yelling. He was considerate enough not to say anything the Swiss farmer would understand as he cupped his hands next to his mouth, and yelled out in English as the words echoed throughout the mountains,...
"... ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO...."
His words carried across the valley, hit the mountain and came rolling back, slightly quieter but still recognizable. "ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO..."
Both the mother and daughter heard it, as the mother, getting out of bed rushed to the window. Below her in the yard, her daughter smiled as she heard that voice once again, then twice...
"... ILAIDTHEOLDLADEETOO...."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the origin of yodeling.
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