Lizzie Hotwife? Oh yes!

Look if you’re new to my blog this is not the place to start. At the very least start here:

https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble/hotwife-lizzie-no-question-2f5dfb32a719

but preferably here:

https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble/hotwife-lizzie-e01afff94b9

Here it comes, I thought. The penny has dropped. Lizzie has realised I’m shagging her son. But no.

“Witch, I think I’ve drunk enough. The bottle I brought is empty and I think I had a use for it. Do you think you deserve it?” She picked up the empty wine bottle and waggled it in front of my face.

It took me a second or two to work out what she was talking about. Then I remembered. She’d threatened (promised?) to use it on me like a dildo for not letting her husband screw me.

She was nicely tiddly and given the conversation we’d just had, I wanted her relaxed and receptive. If she wanted to fuck me with a wine bottle, who was I to say no? So I replied, “No, but I’d love you to do it,” and as encouragement, I stood up, undid my jeans, pushed them to the floor, turned my back on Lizzie, and bent forward. (You can probably tell I was fairly tiddly myself!)

She giggled. ‘Mm, lovely target. Best juice you up a bit first.” Her head plunged between my legs, her tongue travelling the length of my labia in long, deliciously slow laps. It sent shivers through me and had immediate results. I was soon well wet.

“Goody, I wonder how far it goes?” The neck of the bottle touched me. Cold. Another shiver. Then it was in. Not by much. She didn’t ram it in. She was gentle. Teasing. In an inch, then out. In a bit further, and out. Fucking me. I’m not a great toy fan, I get more satisfaction from my fingers but it was different having a woman manipulate it. The bottle had a long slim neck and, by the feel of it, most was now inside me. She held it still and giggled again. “Longer than Chris and Charles, isn’t it? Not such a girth, though.”

“No,” I gasped as she twisted the bottle, “more like Craig’s.” It wasn’t true, Craig wasn’t huge, but he wasn’t pencil slim either. I wanted to keep the family gang bang in her mind.

“Oh, that’s a shame, still variety and all that.”

“Yes,” I managed to gasp out. The bottle was doing serious things to me, and Lizzie had a hand clamped over a tit. “Do you know how John compares?” I asked, pushing my luck. If not now though, it would be never. She was relaxed and horny. Receptive I hoped, to outlandish suggestions.

More giggles. Thank god.

“Hehe! No. No idea. It’s a long time since I’ve bathed him.” The bottle could have been a real cock. The intensity of the thrust increased in line with the lewdness of the conversation. What I was saying, what Lizzie was thinking was having an effect on her.

“Perhaps you should offer to scrub his back,” I suggested.

“Tracy Parker! You make the most disgusting suggestions at times.” Her voice belied the words. Her hand grabbed my tit harder.

“I did say his back. Not his cock.”

“So you did. But you meant his cock, didn’t you?” I didn’t answer as I’d started coming. A novel way to avoid answering a question. (I wondered if it was the same tactic politicians used. Would explain a lot.) I felt myself contracting, pushing the bottle out, following it with enough juice to fill it. Wow. I turned round and sank into the sofa. Lizzie sat, still holding the bottle. Her hand running up and down it. Wanking it.

I wasn’t going to push the scenario with John. The visions were in her mind. I’d see where she took them. For the present, I had to repay her. I kissed her gently. Let her respond. Her mouth opened. Our tongues duelled. Mutual hands on each other's tits. I pushed a hand down her trousers. Found a wet home for my fingers. Licked her face. Like a dog. All over. Lips, cheeks, eyes, forehead. It had an effect. She pushed hard against my fingers. “Fucking witch.” She came. An orgasm to rival mine.

We sorted ourselves out, and I offered coffee, which she said no to. Perhaps for the best. Our conversation avoided John, but as she left and I kissed her goodbye, I said, “I’ll give Kaz a ring tomorrow. See if they will come over.”

“Great. I’m sure it would be fun.”

That could be the understatement of the century.

Postscript. This happened some while back, well, nine or ten days and since then, a couple of things have happened.

I contacted Kaz. I wasn’t sure how to play it until I spoke to her. She sounded exhausted. I suspected mentioning sex would not be well received, so I went into full mother-hen mode and demanded she take a break before she had a breakdown. It took some doing but eventually, she reluctantly agreed that yes, she needed it. I then convinced her to come to mine. I’d take the week off. They owed me enough time and to be fair, they are good at accommodating family needs. Whether anything will transpire with Lizzie, who knows, but at least I’ll get my daughter fit.

She subsequently told me she’s organised the week starting 12th June.

The other thing to happen was Lizzie updating me on Chris’s reaction to our conversation. Surprise, surprise, he was well up for it. But the big news was regarding John. She’d told Chris about our fantasy and how I’d suggested she fuck Craig while Chris fucked Kaz and I fucked John. She said she’d expected him to say it needed to stay a fantasy but surprised her by saying “Why not?”. Although it wasn’t a surprise to me, given that he knows I’m having sex with his son. Unfortunately, Lizzie said there was no way she could contemplate it. “I’m even careful to make sure he doesn’t see me in my undies, let alone naked, or god forbid, fucking. It would be just too embarrassing.”

“Isn’t that what you said about flashing?”

“Well, yes, but…, but this is totally different.”

“Not sure I agree, but why not do as you did with the flashing?”

“How do you mean?”

“Start low key, walk around the house with your blouse open then in your bra and knickers. Get used to him seeing you like that. After all you’re not showing anything if you choose the right lingerie. See how you feel, then move on. After all, you wouldn’t expect him to get excited at seeing his mother like that would you?” (Liar, liar pants on fire! If she does it, and it’s a big if, John will owe me. I’ll need to think of what I want as a reward!)

She gave me a look. A ‘you have two heads and look as though you’ve just climbed out of Sigourney Weavers chest’ type of look. She accompanied it with a decisive “No! No way!”

But. The idea was planted. It is as clear as day she wants to explore more generally. Fingers crossed.