A few years ago my fiance (24) (now wife) and I (22) went through abit of a stoner stage. We were both living out of her parents house and had a local hook up that lived just down the road.
He was your typical older tradie, probably mid-40s, rough around the edges, gravelly voice, lazy smirk and eyes would linger a little too long on fiancés body. It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t just thinking about selling us weed most of the time.
We’d started off just popping down for a couple of grams every few days. Quick transaction, some small talk about footy or the weather, then back to her bedroom to roll up and get blitzed while her parents were at work. But over a few weeks the visits started getting longer. He’d invite us in to smoke instead of standing at the door, and we’d end up on his old lounge passing the bong while some random ...... played low in the background.
One warm afternoon we rocked up as usual. He was already settled on the couch in a singlet and shorts, looking every bit the dirty old tradie. My fiancée was wearing a thin little top and tiny denim shorts that showed off her smooth legs. The second he saw her, his eyes dragged slowly up her body.
“Fuck me, you two get better looking every time you come round,”
She smiled, a little shy but clearly loving the attention, and sat down took his bong and took a hit. Her tits rose under the thin fabric as she held it in, then she exhaled a thick cloud toward the ceiling.
He kept complimenting her, how good she looked in those shorts, how she had the prettiest little mouth when she smiled. Every time she leaned forward to pass the bong back, his eyes locked onto her cleavage. She noticed. Instead of covering up, she started arching her back a little more, playing up the innocent-but-not vibe.
The tension kept building with every shared hit, every lingering look, until the air felt thick with it. A few teasing comments turned into hands brushing thighs, then sliding higher. One minute she was giggling between us on the couch, the next her top was coming off, followed by everything else.
Clothes came off in a haze. Fiance ended up on her knees between us, sucking him deep while stroking me. He was like proper man dick, thicker than me, veiny, and she struggled adorably to take him all, drooling down her chin. Every time she gagged a little she’d pull off, laugh breathlessly, and dive back in. I stroked her hair, telling her how fucking hot she looked.
After what seemed like hours, he got up and pretty much picked her up and bent her over the couch next. I sat right in front of her so she could keep sucking me while he pushed into her from behind. The wet sound of him sliding deep made my head spin. Fiance was whimpering around my cock, her body jolting with every thrust. He gripped her hips hard, calling her a good little slut for taking both of us. Minutes after the dirty talk got more intense she came the hardest I have ever seen. Each thrust she was shaking, thighs trembling, moaning so loud I had to hold her head down to keep her mouth on me.
I couldn’t last after that. I pulled out and came across her pretty face while he kept pounding her. He finished inside her a few minutes later with a deep groan, pumping her full.
We stayed there for a while after, passing another joint, fiance naked, dazed and cum ...... leaking between us.
That wasn’t the last time we went down the road for “supplies.” For a few wild months it became our dirty little routine. Sometimes he’d fuck her slow and deep while she rode my cock with her mouth. Other times he’d take her into his room and fucker her so hard I could hear it in the lounge room. We’d always leave his place hours later, stoned out of our minds, her thighs sticky and his cum still dripping out of her as we snuck back into her parents’ house.