Author's Note: Stories on this site may contains fiction of an adult nature. They may contain themes involving Incest, under age sex, rape, bestiality, drugs or alcohol abuse. If these subjects make you uncomfortable please exit now. The stories are meant for the entertainment of adults as defined by your local government or society, if you are below this age please exit now. The author does not condone or encourage anyone to act in real life the way the characters depicted in this story act.

Fuck Buddies
by Isabella

Story Code: M/F, Outdoor Sex, Unfaithful Wife, Intergenerational

Human relationships always amaze me, always has done, since the first glimmerings of attraction at school, which boys fancied which girls and vice versa. I was always surprised by who my school friends married, they would go out with a guy, seem perfectly suited to each other in every way and then out of the blue, they announced that they were marrying someone else.

When I was eight or nine years old at a guess, my parent's had a friend, we all called him Mr Roberts because he owned Roberts News emporium on the High Street, he was an infrequent visitor to our house but whenever he came it was a big deal, there was always a box of chocolates for my mother, sweets for me and a magazine in a brown paper bag for my father. I later found out it was all old stock but still, it meant that we had our treat whenever he came to call.

I married Johnny, don't ask me why, there was no great love or attraction, we were like two peas in a pod in our political and religious views and Johnny made me laugh, neither of us was really interested in kids, we lived quite selfish lives really and a child would seriously impinge on our freedom. We seemed to live a charmed life in the early years of the turn of the century, twenty-first, not twentieth you cheeky bugger, I'm not that old. Johnny seemed to hop from one job and into the next just before the company he was in failed, I had to make two jumps when I saw the writing on the walls. We both had well paying jobs, we could afford first class holidays and lived in a very large house that stretched our finances slightly.

In 2010, Johnny jumped into a new company and a better position, he had to do a lot of international travel but he took the job because he could see that his last company was spinning out of control towards insolvency, I hadn't spotted it this time, when Johnny's company hit the dirt the fall out spilled over into the company I worked in, not a slow decline but a snuffing out overnight.

Work is a catch twenty-two situation, when you are working, it is relatively easy to slip from one company to another but once you are spilled out and hit the unemployment queue it is a very slippery road back to work. One thing led to another and in 2011 I still hadn't found another job and all of our cash reserves were depleted, Johnny was still working hard, still working away most of the year. It was a tough decision to take but we had to hand our house back to the finance company, even though it had lost twenty-five percent of its value because of the economic downturn, so we were without a house and still owed a large chunk of money to the bank because of the negative equity.

My mother still lived in the house that I was born in, Dad was long gone and I guess that I hadn't visited home as often as I should have since I moved down to London with Johnny but I found myself back on her doorstep with bags and baggage. My mother was great about the whole thing, she would have said "I told you so" but Johnny and I had been married for ten years and had lived together for four years before that, so I found myself living back at home at the ripe old age of thirty-five. Johnny should have been home for a fortnight just before I moved out of our old house but I told him to stay in Dubai and get a head start on his new project, he had been away for three months and would be home again in just over three months time.

I have to admit to being selfish in asking Johnny to stop out in Dubai, I was packing everything from the house and putting most it into storage, there was only my old single bed at my mother's house and Johnny would have wanted me to take far more of his stuff to my mother's house than I really wanted too. The way I looked at it, I would need to establish myself back at home in my mother's village and then start on the road to social housing, by Christmas, hopefully, when Johnny's next trip home was scheduled, I'd have a new house or flat with all of his stuff in it.

Okay, so it was a bit of a double edged sward, not letting Johnny come home saved me problems with packing the house up but it had been three months since Johnny's last visit home and I had been looking forward to a little bedroom tango action for several weeks before I had to tell him not to come home so I had an itch that desperately needed scratching.

I got into my old bedroom, next door to my mother's bedroom and I was just about to 'cure' my itch when I heard my mother, she had turned over in bed or something and I heard her bedsprings groan as if she were right in the room with me a little off putting to say the least. So I went to sleep on Tuesday night very frustrated indeed. Wednesday morning I slept until late, in the village Wednesday was a nothing day, there wasn't even a bus into town on a Wednesday and the only shop left in the village didn't even open on a Wednesday because it opened on Saturday, when most people were actually in the village as so many worked down in London so just slept in the village the rest of the time.

Mother suggested that I go and look in Roberts shop window to see if there were any houses to rent or job adverts. The village was still old fashioned enough for people to advertise jobs and houses in the village shop window at fifty pence a week instead of putting it in the newspaper at fifteen quid a time. As I walked down to the shop it dawned on me that my mother still called the newspaper shop Roberts shop, Mr Roberts was the same age as my father and my father had passed away five years earlier so I had guessed that old Mr Roberts would have been long gone from the village shop by now.

As I walked down to the shop, 'Roberts News Emporium' still shone out in black lettering against a red background, just the way it had when I was still at school. I stopped to look in the window, the shop was, as I could remember it being, closed all day on Wednesday, there were no adverts for houses but several seasonal jobs leading up to Christmas, one jumped out at me, delivering Christmas Hamsters, that was until I put my glasses on and Hamster resolved into Hamper, the other was production line at the Turkey farm, but I dismissed that one out of hand, elbow deep in Turkey guts all day wasn't my idea of fun.

I took my glasses off and noticed old Mr Roberts looking back at me, I smiled at him and waved my hand, the door was open in a flash, "Victoria Dawson, is that you?" "Victoria Clarke now Mr Roberts!" "I haven't seen you in years, how's things with you and, erm, John?" "Johnny is working away at the moment Mr Roberts but we're doing fine thanks."

"Do you still like white mice?" "Only the chocolate veriety." "Why don't you come in and have a coffee with me and I'll dig out some white mice as a treat." I have no idea why I went into the closed shop with Mr Roberts but I did, I guess it was because he was definitely one of my parent's trusted friends.

We drank coffee and I ate three white mice, a cascade of innocent 'chit-chat' before we got round too "So how long has your husband been away then Victoria?" "Three months." "He must be due back any time!" "This week, he was due back this week but I told him to stay out there as we need the money at the moment!"

There was a moment's silence as Mr Roberts sipped his coffee as he looked at me over his glasses and then he hit me with, "So, you must be climbing the walls by now, no sex for three months and now living back with your mother, I doubt that you'll be able to look after your needs with your mum in the next bed room, or have you already fixed something up to sort out that problem?"

I was shocked, in my mind's eye; I was that young girl in my parent's house and the man I looked on as Santa Claus had just told me he loves to eat Reindeer Stew. I spluttered out, "What do you mean?" "You know, a fuck buddy, we use them all the time out here in the wilds, especially when out partner works away or just loses interest in sex, just a close friend of the family that you can trust to have no strings attached sex!"

I realised of course that Mr Roberts had noticed my discomfort and was only saying what he said to illicit a response from me. I tried to remember that I wasn't a pre-teen anymore and that I should be okay talking with another adult on an adult subject without being shocked into catatonia. I finished my coffee and thanked Mr Roberts for his hospitality, "I loved the white mice, I think you actually gave me the last one that I tasted too!"

I made my thanks and my apologies but said that I had to be going, as I walked through the shop behind Mr Roberts he looked at the top shelf by the till, the place where 'gentlemen's special interest periodicals' were displayed or half displayed as the cellophane wrapper was mostly obscured, then he said something unusual, "I think you should look above the airing cupboard in your mother's bathroom, you may find something interesting, you never know, you may find something that might help you out!"

I tried to put the whole notion of 'Fuck Buddies' out of my head as I walked home, mother and I had tea together and we watched TV all evening in silence, in London, when I was working, I would have walked to a club, to a theatre, to a cinema or to a 'gastro-bar', there were enough places to go within walking distance of our house, to find entertainment at a different place every day of the month.

I couldn't remember more than a hand full of nights when I sat in all evening watching TV, my mother did suggest that I could go for a walk to the pub, it was the only option for entertainment on a Wednesday evening within a five mile radius. I was tempted but I could guess the kind of people who would be out drinking on a Wednesday evening so I declined the suggestion of a trip to the pub.

At nine o'clock my mother went to bed, I was so bored, well more than bored, bored and frustrated, Mr Robert's 'fuck-buddy' idea kept rolling around in my head. I heard my mother leaving the bathroom and, even though it was only nine fifteen, I decided to splash out and have a long soak in the bath with one of my last, very expensive, bath-bombs.

While the bath filled with hot water and my bath-bomb dissolved, Mr Roberts comment about looking in the cupboard over the airing cupboard popped into my head, I had to get a stool to stand on to open the high doors, I had kind of expected to find the cold water storage tank in that cupboard but I was wrong, there must have been around five hundred 'top-shelf' magazines from Mr Roberts shop, then I remembered the brown paper bags that Mr Roberts often brought to my father, they must have been the magazines, back in those days they didn't seal that kind of thing and they didn't put them out of the reach of young boys either.

I took a single magazine, there were a few pictures but most of the content was articles and fiction stories as well as a few reader's problems as well as a few reader's wives and girlfriends. I settled back into the water and began reading the magazine.

If I were honest with myself, reading the magazine didn't help, I tried a little 'intimate massage' while reading in the bath, I felt that I would be on safe ground as the bathroom was on the other side of the hall from my mother's bedroom but after just five minutes there was a knock at the bathroom door, "Victoria, are you okay in there?" I told her I was fine and that I was just getting out of the bath.

As I pulled the plug to empty the bath I thought to myself, 'What a waste of expensive bath salts!' I managed a little distraction on Thursday and Friday, I took the bus into town and visited the job centre and went around the employment agencies, staying out as late as I could in the teaming metropolis of Wellingborough, taking the last bus home. Saturday was shopping in Peterborough with my mother, something that in London would have taken me less than an hour my mother managed to spin out to seven hours.

On Sunday my mother went to church but I couldn't face it, as it was really hot and sunny, I went for a walk. I found ancient pathways that had been open since the Norman Conquests but that I never knew existed even though I lived in the village for eighteen years. I had followed one path out of the village until I hit the river, well, so called river, just a brook really but I had to turn back as there was no bridge, I followed a different path back to the village.

I followed the path right into the centre of the village, the country path connected with a path I did know, we called it 'The Black Pad' when I was a kid, it was black because people in the houses that backed onto the path would shovel the hot ash out from under their fires and spread them while still red hot over the path behind their house. The heat from the ash killed the grass and weeds and people walking up and down the path compacted the ash down into a good, safe surface.

I heard classical music from one of the back gardens; being nosy I went on the tips of my toes to see if I could see over the hedge, then I tried jumping but still couldn't see over it so I stepped on a large stone at the side of the path. As soon as I began to step up onto the stone I realised that the music was coming from Mr Robert's garden at the rear of his shop.

I didn't stop my climb and was soon looking down onto Mr Roberts sitting on a sun-lounger in his back garden, a tall drink on a plastic side table and reading a book while listening to Handles Water Music, the suit in D Major if I remembered my music, I knew that I had to get down quickly before I was spotted, I was totally embarrassed, the reason Mr Roberts kept his hedge so high was because he sunbathed in his garden in the nude.

As I slipped back down behind the hedge, it did cross my mind that for his age, Mr Roberts was in fantastic condition, I tiptoed away from the hedge, thinking that my little peep had gone unnoticed by Mr Roberts but I was wrong, there was a six foot high gate from the garden out onto the path and the gate opened and Mr Roberts called out to me, I stopped in my tracks and turned with my hand over my eyes, "Can I do anything for you Victoria?" I peeked through my fingers, he was holding his book in front of his lower appendage, so it didn't look as bad as I thought it would.

I know that I was blushing very badly from what I had seen and even more so from being caught peeking. "You look like you could use a cool drink Victoria, why don't you join me in a wine cooler." I felt exactly the way I had on the Wednesday, no idea why I went in, but I did, just because he asked me to.

As soon as the gate closed on the outside world the book covering his privates was dropped on the plastic side table, he fetched me a lounger and placed it alongside his own, then he got another side table, carrying it like a drinks tray with a large glass jug full of wine, soda water and ice and a tall glass to pour my drink into. I was invited to sit on the lounger and have a drink.

I tried to sit with my back towards Mr Roberts, across the lounger rather than sitting on it comfortably. It didn't take long for me to be persuaded to sit on the lounger properly and once I was lying next to Mr Roberts I couldn't take my eyes off of his cock. Once again, we sat engaged in idle chatter, nothing memorable, apart from him asking me to call him Danny rather than Mr Roberts, and in no time I finished my glass of wine and soda.

We had been chatting for forty minutes and even though the conversation had dipped into and out of sexual subjects, Danny's cock had just slept in his lap, curled up like an old faithful dog but when Danny noticed me drain the last of my drink he slid off of his lounger and stood up in front of me. As he moved slowly past my feet I was transfixed by his cock as it began to swing from side to side, his cock seemed to be looking down at the floor, then it began to grow longer, at around seven inches long it seemed to stop growing longer and start to get fatter.

When Danny's cock had grown to slightly longer than my husband's cock and slightly fatter too it seemed to stop growing and began to move out from his body. Danny was now the other side of me and refilling my glass. I just sat there, totally relaxed watching as his cock passed ninety degrees, at least eight inches long. Danny walked past my feet again and now his cock was looking up at his face, Danny stretched, arching his back slightly, then it dawned on me, Johnny was only half Danny's age but I had never seen is cock pointing straight up like that while he was standing.

Danny went back to the far side of his lounger and moved his side table away by about a foot, then he pulled his lounger a foot away from mine. Danny sat down the way I had when I first sat by him, only he was facing me, the head of his cock was actually touching his navel, we started chatting again, then Danny asked if my dress fastened at the back, I nodded my head, "Sit up a little, let me see!" Danny took my hand and helped me to sit up, then he carefully placed my hand on his thigh, palm down, he looked at the back of my dress, it had a hook and eye fastener, to me it felt like he brushed something off of the back of my dress but it suddenly went loose across my chest and I saw the tops on my bra cups pop into view above the neckline of my dress.

I felt another deft brush of fingertips against my back and I felt the tension in my bra strap relax. Danny leaned forward across my body to ease the shoulder straps of my dress and my bra off over my left shoulder and as he leaned forward, his cock pressed down against the back of my hand. Danny then eased my right shoulder out of my dress and I was topless, no big deal, I had often sunbathed topless in my own back garden in London and that was nowhere close to as private as Danny's garden.

I watched as Danny discarded my bra to the floor more than a foot away from my feet, Danny allowed me to lie back again and he straightened up slightly, his cock moved away from my hand, I actually asked myself why I hadn't moved my hand sooner, I told myself to move it now, now that the heat and pressure of his cock had gone, but for some reason I didn't. Danny produced bronzing oil out of thin air and began to massage it into my upper arms and shoulders. To oil my right shoulder and upper arm he had to lean forward again, pressing his cock into the back of my hand again.

As Danny rubbed oil into my neck and upper chest my hand began to slide up and down his thigh, causing the back of my hand to rub against his cock shaft. I have no idea how or when it happened but as Danny rubbed oil into my breasts I realised than my hand was now palm up and my fingers were wrapped around his cock and I was slowly masturbating him. Danny obviously felt that my altered hand position was a sign because he wiped the excess oil from his hands and started to push my dress further down my body, "Lift up for me," he said so I presses my shoulders and feet against the lounger, lifting my bottom slightly and Danny pushed my dress and my panties past my hips and down to my knees.

My dress and knickers arched to the floor next to my bra and for the first time in my life I was totally naked in the open air, that wouldn't have been so bad if the man now rubbing oil into my tits with great gusto was my husband but he wasn't, he was one of my parent's best friends. Danny kissed me, that shocked me, me rubbing his cock and him rubbing my tits in the sunshine didn't seem the slightest bit wrong to me but kissing me, that was a step too far.

I hadn't responded to Danny's kiss and his face moved away from mine, he looked at my face closely, I knew, without a mirror, that my face was pillow-box red. Danny just laughed and said, almost imperceptibly, "Just like your mother, plenty fucky-fucky but no kissy-kissy!" Danny pulled my knees apart, he looked down between my legs, "I'm glad you keep your bush well trimmed," his fingertips brushed down along my labia, "You had been expecting sex, freshly shaved cunt lips, a good thing with wiry pubic hair like yours." 'Cunt' was a word I had never actually heard a man use in front of me before so that threw me slightly, so much so that I missed the fact that Danny was sliding his body over mine, even though my fingers were still wrapped tightly around his cock.

My hand was definitely working against me, as Danny lined his body up with mine; my hand was guiding his cock into my cunt. Danny fucked me so hard that he knocked the wind out of my body, I had only ever had sex with Johnny in my life and Johnny was always a very gentle lover, there was always a long, slow, build up to sex with Johnny but Danny was very animalistic, as he climaxed into me he almost bellowed out like a bull, fortunately for me I climaxed in time with him so at least my frustrations would be cured.

Danny climbed off of my body and put a clean hand towel between my legs, "I'm sorry about that, but it has been a long time since I had the opportunity to fuck a young-un like you, give me an hour to recover and we'll give it another go, I'll bring you off a lot more next time." I know I should have just grabbed my clothes and stormed off but it had been a long time since I had been fucked last and Danny was right, I had been getting myself ready for sex with Johnny before I stopped him coming home at the last minute. Danny might have been animalistic but he was a monster compared to my husband and even a quickie fuck with Danny left me feeling more exhausted and satisfied than several hours with my husband's gentle lovemaking.

Danny finished oiling my body; he covered every inch with bronzing oil including rubbing it into my ginger pubic mound as well as covering my labia with it too. The inane conversation started all over again, Danny found it easy to make me laugh and what with the massage and the humours conversation, even though I should have stormed off because Danny fucked me without asking, I relaxed back into my lounger and another drink of cool wine and just let the sun cook me slightly as the memory of Danny's wonderfully massive cock, ramming in and out of my body, ran through my mind.

An hour passed really quickly, the music was changed and when Danny returned his cock was already showing signs of fresh growth, this time when Danny made love it was more like when Johnny did it but Danny was just a little better, just a little more forceful, just a thousand time more skilful, I was drenched with sweat and had run through a thousand orgasms before Danny slid his body over mine again, he waited for me to take over his cock and do the aiming for him and once again, when he started to actually fuck me, he again knocked the wind from my body.

Danny had used his mouth, fingers, chin, nose, wrist, elbow and knee to bring me off for an hour before he actually stuck his python into my cunt and he drove me wild all over again for more than an hour, just pounding away into my body relentlessly as I begged him to stop over and over again with my arms clamped around his neck and my feet crossed over his back to prevent him stopping.

After he climaxed into me for the second time that day I picked up the hand towel that Danny had used on my the first time but it was useless, it was totally soaked in his spunk, he must have shot two pints up into me the first time he fucked me and now his seed was running out of me like a river all over again.

We lay together in the afternoon sun until it started to cool down and I decided that it was time I went home to my mother and get the bollocking of my life for not going home for dinner, I dressed with Danny watching every move I made, "Well, will I do?" "Will you do what Danny?" "Will I be good enough to be your fuck buddy until your husband gets home? And, if you stay in the area, perhaps for longer than that!" Danny did mention that he'd prefer me to shave off my pussy hair totally before I went back, he suggested that I shave on Tuesday evening and pop around to see him on Wednesday morning for our next session.

His parting comment was, "I'd love to see you looking the way you did when you were a baby again." I didn't get any argument from my mother when I got home, she hadn't even bothered to cook Sunday lunch, she's had a premonition that I wouldn't be home for Sunday lunch, she also had a gift for me, a man's razor and a can of shaving foam for sensitive skin. "You'll find that Danny prefers baby smooth skin!" She also handed me a tub of Vaseline, you'll find that he doesn't like to stop having sex during your periods, so you'd better open up the other road for his passions before then."

I just stood there, mouth open and hands on my hips, I couldn't believe what my mother was saying to me, "Oh, and don't think you could give him up, I always said I could but if he'd have me I'd be over there like a shot, keeping his bed warm for him!"

4,856 Words.

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