About twenty minutes to three, Margaret called me to ensure her love receptacle was clean and fresh ready for the plumber. It wasn’t – it hadn’t been for most of this week as she couldn’t stop gushing, not that I minded the clean-up duties!

[In case you’ve starting reading this chapter, I would recommend starting with Chapter 1 and working onwards from there. If your reading this with your good (or even naughty!) wife, how about this for a suggestion: print out the posting, highlight Margaret’s direct speech and then read it aloud with her filling in Margaret’s speech – it may just get her to voice out loud things which you both might like to hear ! ! !] Anyway, to continue . . .

Just after three, the plumber comes bowling into the unit and turns straight into the bedroom where I am fighting a losing battle in consuming all of Margaret’s copious flow. “Don’t mind me,” he says turning into the en-suite bathroom “let me just service this shower and then I will see what else needs servicing”. Stripping off both himself and the shower, he called out “Rita says she’s got a right one in this week – seemed so demure when she arrived on Saturday”. Dragging myself away from my duties, I replied “It’s a wonder what a few days of fresh air can do for you!”.

Working away inside the shower unit in the nude, his seemingly large but as yet only semi-erect dick swinging in the breeze, he continued the conversation. “Rita is a right one to comment” he continued “but she tells me there is a right nymphomaniac in. Apparently, she’s making this week a week of firsts to crown all: – first an acknowledgement of black desires to hubby, first public display, first actual orgasm at her own hands – with an audience to boot and then to crown it all a first night in the arms of a black lover: all with the blessing and encouragement of her long term husband or should I say cucky. I might be starting to get worried if I was him”. “Not at all” I replied “I know that she loves me and besides I’m getting just as much pleasure as she is” and adding “Her juices have just started flowing very fast again, so please don’t be long”.

“That’s the shower fixed,” he soon called out “let’s see about fixing your wife”. Striding out from the shower room. he lunged for the bed only just giving me time to get out of the way. As he crossed the room, I did have time to notice that his cock was now at full mast: not much longer than mine but much, much thicker. He reached out with his large calloused hand to check Margaret’s pussy to ensure it was wet enough – he need not have bothered as it was still pouring, despite my earlier clean-up efforts. “Ready to go” he snapped as he climbed aboard my wife crudely shoving his fat love stick straight into M. She winced at first, but her expressions soon turned to those of pure joy as he took his pleasure: that was what it was – he had made no attempts to engage M. just jumped on her for his own satisfaction. But she loved it and soon came to her first plumber’s orgasm.

As soon as he has shot his load, he dismounted, quickly grabbed his clothes from the shower room, dressed and was off. I don’t know what was on his work list to be serviced next, but he sure was in a hurry!

I jolted back to reality as M. called out “Get over here, the lovely man has just delivered your cream tea so come & enjoy it – what a delivery!”

Returning to my pleasurable duties, I thought to myself – what else can this week bring, but I was not going to have to wait long . . .

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Chapter 9: The Old Man cums back

As I was busy cleaning up the mess from the plumber, or as Margaret put it, eating my cream tea, there was a knock at the door. “Ha, ha” I thought to myself “I’m getting this one, not you Rita!”. The door opened and in walked, not Rita, but the old man from earlier: the one who had witnessed and enjoyed M.’s first DIY orgasm.

Seeing that we were occupied, he simply wandered into the bedroom and made himself comfortable in the armchair at the end of the bed. “Carry on,” he said “I’m quite happy to sit & watch first – I love to see a gal enjoying herself”. Addressing me, he enquired “How many loads have you enjoyed this week?” “I’ve lost count” I replied “but I do know that I’ve now had three different flavours so far, if you know what I mean”. “Well I’m here” he continued “to offer you both yet another flavour”. Even from where I was, entrenched down between M.’s lovely legs, I could see her smiling and nodding.

As he began to get undressed, M. enquired his age to which he replied “Not quite as old as you, dear, but I haven’t left it this late to be honest so I have years of practice as my dear old wife would have confirmed if I had not lost her last year”. We both offered him our condolences and, while I finished my duties, encouraged him to tell us his life story. Apparently, he had shared his wife from before their wedding with some of his pals who also shared theirs – a small group of them sharing their swinging heaven! Most of the wives had now passed on and he sadly told us that he had not been lucky since well before his wife’s death. After seeing Margaret’s self-induced orgasm recently, it had reactivated his desires and he had wanted to go home and indulge in some DIY of his own but had decided to hold on and offer it to the good, or rather naughty, lady here.

“Us pensioners must stick together” she said, pushing me off the bed and turning to me said “Please Cucky, would you like to sit this one out – swap places with our new friend and take a front seat (again)”. As I indeed did swap places with the Old Man, we both could see that her pussy lips were gaping open and her juices flowing freely. After all, it had not been long since the plumber had made is delivery and I had been enjoying my cream tea!

“Move over, son, and let the Old Man see what’s on offer” he chirped whilst attempting to clamber onto the bed which was a lovely big king-size with a super thick mattress meaning I had to assist him scale the heights! After entering straight into M.s love haven, he soon was scaling another set of heights but with such contrast to M.’s last lover. He was attentive to her needs and ensured that she enjoyed multiple orgasms before flooding her with his pent-up supply of old man’s juices. He didn’t stop then, though, he carried on to give her some more pleasure and, ultimately, them both another mind blowing orgasm. “Can you get me a glass of water” he asked “while we come down from here”. As I went to the kitchen to oblige, I could hear them talking but was unable to make out what they said.

I brought the Old Man his drink, – that’s the only way we knew him as we never asked him his name – we chatted a while and he then thanked us both & departed.

As I returned from the kitchen after dumping the glasses, I noticed Margaret’s eyes were damp and she appeared to have been sobbing. “Whatever is up, dear” I said. She replied to explain how much she had enjoyed the last two encounters, but they had not lived up to the experiences with John, our coloured friend. “Why the tears” I persisted so she explained that she thought she would never enjoy those feelings again. I said that I appreciated that the first time for anything will always remain special, but why did she think that she would not enjoy them again. “Not with John,” she tearfully replied “as he has made demands which I cannot make”. “Let’s at least talk about them”, then I added.