Getting out of the routine

I often say that the routine of marriage over time resembles the habit of savoring your favorite dish in the same restaurant as always until the moment when you feel the need to vary the menu a bit and after tasting the first experience the habit ends up becoming almost an addiction. And of course it is no different with me especially after a marriage of almost forty years where cohabitation takes on the air of a mere brotherly relationship and sex is just a mere memory. It is against this backdrop that opportunities arise or are purposefully created as the first time I was alone when my wife undertook a slightly longer journey and I was sought after by my sister-in-law named Giselda. Giselda was moving into a newly acquired apartment for herself and found herself entangled with some problems asking for my help; I prepared myself and we arranged a meeting on the spot for the next day; it should be noted that this sister-in-law of mine was the typical convicted bacheloress keeping her private life well away from the curiosity of others, including her sisters, showing herself reserved in all respects; at the same time she used to wear loose and unflattering clothes only dressing more tightly for social or family events, allowing the fertile imagination of males like me to travel in the face of the possibilities. The next day we met at the doorstep of the building and soon went up with her talking about her problems and difficulties with the move; inside the apartment I came across many cardboard boxes still sealed, remains of construction materials and some furniture still to be assembled. Giselda asked my help to check the contracted repairs which did not take more than a few minutes leading me to believe that my help would end at that moment. <unk>You know, I wanted to know if you could assemble my bed? ..., is that tonight I intend to sleep here!<unk>, she said already amending the request. I went to the room and examined the disassembled parts to soon access the <unk>YOUTUBE<unk>, finding a help video. After some time and a lot of physical effort I finished the task and Giselda was exultant with the result offering me a coffee that she had just prepared; leaning on the kitchen sink we savored the drink with her watching me with an enigmatic look. <unk>Puxa! You are all sweaty! Don't you want to take a bath? The shower here is very good!<unk>, she suggested with an intentional smile; as I was, in fact, sweating to the extreme I accepted her offer and went to the bathroom asking for a towel that she was prepared to leave hanging outside the door; I undressed and took a really comforting shower with plenty of water. "Oops! Sorry! I didn't know you were finished already!" she said in a surprised tone as I opened the bathroom door to get the towel. For a moment we stared at each other, and I realized that she was looking at my finger, which was already in the initial state of stiffening. "What's the matter, sister-in-law? Have you never seen a parrot?" I asked in a naughty tone. "Oh, yes, of course I've seen it!" she replied, a little clumsy, still staring at the brute gaining body. - What is it? <unk> I interrupted already smoothing my benga in its fullness <unk> you want to give a little walk, you want? Giselda waved with a very soft expression on her face and I grabbed her hand bringing up the pistol making it land on her; my sister-in-law gave some timid smooths leading me to believe in her inexperience in handling, but the next moment she was already applying a vigorous handkerchief stamping a lustful expression on her face. And without ceremony Giselda got down on her knees in front of me taking the pirouette in her mouth beginning a shrill whimper that made me moan lowly as I rolled my eyes. <unk>Hummm, what a tasty prick!<unk>, she said in a complimentary breast tone alternating licks and turning the member to make it disappear inside her mouth tasty and insatiable. "No! Wait! Don't mock yet! Come here with me!" she said with a scourged tone when she noticed in my face the possibility of mockery becoming inevitable; holding my cock in her hand she pulled me into the room where she took off her clothes lying on the bed; I was stunned by her gesture and even more stunned by her Chubby-like body, with full breasts and a bald pussy that she stroked with her fingertips spreading her legs. -Scrub that rosary here, oh! <unk> she asked in a dengue-like tone, pointing to the little grotto that she now scrubbed, now opened with her scissor-shaped fingers <unk> but it's only for scrubbing did you see? Nothing to put in, nor to mock inside! I got down on my knees on the bed while Giselda stood up and flexed her legs holding them under her knees as she unfurled her plump little lipstick; I began rubbing the glans along the groin reaching up to the clitoris which was swollen and pulsating to the point of hitting it with my tool causing whining and laughter that became more and more pronounced culminating in a shrill scream indicating that she had reached an orgasm that I could feel when my glans was licked by the nectar that poured from her hot scream. As we continued in that greater boldness without consequences, Giselda enjoyed a few more orgasms always screaming and whining. "Are you going to have fun? ..., then, have fun in my belly!" she asked when I alerted her to the proximity of my climax; we changed position with her closing her legs that were surrounded by mine allowing me to get a little closer to her belly initiating a vigorous masturbation that soon culminated in a profuse ejaculation projecting jets of semen that poured onto the bare skin of her belly causing her to shake involuntarily. "Hummm, I love male milk!" she commented as she spread the cream on her skin and then brought her fingers to her mouth to suck them with a sigh, staring at the puzzled expression on my face. Of course, after all this I was forced to take another shower only this time she had handed me the towel; when I finished dressing myself announcing that I had to leave, Giselda approached me wanting to say something. "Look, what happened here, can it be just between us, right? No one needs to know, okay?" she asked without hiding her anxiety with my answer that followed immediately. - But nothing happened here! ..., isn't it? <unk> I asked with an ironic tone making Giselda open an even more naughty chuckle. I confess that all that fun was good, but it left me with that "I want more!" feeling; however, I knew that the possibility of my sister-in-law giving me a mole like that again would be very remote, which worsened my expectation since my wife would not return from her vacation. A few days later, I woke up with a colossal erection with a mole so hard that it hurt and demanded that I seek some form of relief even by the usual manual method; still I restrained myself and went down to the kitchen to have a coffee and smoke a cigarette. Already sitting in the living room, I turned on the television and looked for the package of adult channels hunting for something stimulating. I was so entertained by the visual amusement that I instinctively reached for my pistol, which had become stiff again by the insolent pulsing, and began a slow masturbation, enjoying the torrid scenes unfolding on the television screen; the excitement grew before my eyes, so that I did not even notice when the door of the room opened, allowing Solange, our diarist, to enter; when I found myself looking at her, she kept an embarrassing expression on her face, though she displayed a repressed temper, unable to take her eyes off the still laughing pinky, which I manipulated with cadence even as I bit my lips. We stared at each other for a while until she lowered her head and ran to the back of the house where the urinal was, where she changed her clothes to carry out her duties; I remained where I was trying to remember if she had arranged with my wife to come on the usual day, for I saw as a rule in the periods of scheduled absence she was excused; in any case I shrugged my shoulders and continued in my solitary amusement until I heard noises coming from the kitchen indicating that Solange had begun her daily activities. Solange was a conspicuous mulatto with delicate features, with full breasts and a chubby butt who kept a distant and impersonal demeanor when she was at home, but always treated me with a gentle and very uninhibited cordiality; with her high-strungness I began to wonder if it would be worth the risk of losing the diarist to get a good fuck; Solange had been married to a mechanic who exchanged her for a twenty-year-old girl and then married a boat owner who also abandoned her for another younger woman, events that could have left her moody and cold, but that only grew bitter in her a sloppy female who served as a bed in the bed whenever a chance arose. At the same time, Solange adhered to the rule that "in a house where bread is earned, do not covet meat", which is why she stayed away from possible involvements with the bosses; with all these thoughts and considerations orbiting in my mind clouded by desire I decided to take the risk of an approach by the edges; still naked I got up and went to the kitchen leaning against the sink to fill a glass with water on the wall filter right next to her; I approached little by little and soon noticed that Solange did not rehearse a withdrawal by encouraging me to continue in the circle. "All this excitement is because your wife is traveling, isn't it?" she asked without warning, still avoiding looking at the pin. "I bet you've already brought some bitch into the house!" I didn't do that! <unk> I replied with an emphatic tone <unk> but the hard-on is really due to the lack of a female to climb! And that's when I thought you could help a little bit! I don't want to lose my job because of some maniac! -Stop, Sô! What does it cost! <unk> I insisted on getting a little closer <unk> it's just a little fuck ..., no one needs to know! ..., it's just between us! -Humpf! Are you going to say that afterwards you won't want any more, even when the wife comes back? <unk> she asked with a naughty expression sprouting on her face <unk> I know! I'm deceived that I like it! - It's true, Sô! You're speaking seriously! <unk> I answered looking at his face firmly <unk> Just look at my state? Go woman! Just a quick one! "Really, just one?" she asked, stretching her hand out to hold the sprig, feeling its dimensions and exploring its rigidity. At the end of these words, Solange knelt down and, after licking her glans, gave the animal a blow, making it disappear into her mouth and rewarding me with a blowjob of respect! The bitch showed herself a gluttonous drooling on the pistol while she struggled to swallow and spit the animal with eager gestures. I thought she was going to limit herself to just tasting the stick, but without warning she ceased what she was doing by standing up; and as soon as she did this, I immediately tried to take off her blouse exposing the round breasts and beaks, passing to squeezing them in my hands at the same time that she sucked and nibbled the nipples making Solange twinkle without stopping. -Ahnnn! Uhhh! Look ..., look ..., if we are really going to climb it has to be now <unk> she babbled holding my head so that I would continue sucking her tits <unk> Afff! So you finish me, you bastard ..., and then? Let's fuck? Hearing those words as if they were a command, I disengaged from her by taking her hand so that we could go to the room. "What? In her room? No way! You're crazy! Come! I know where we're going!" she said, pulling me in the opposite direction; Solange led me to the cubicle where there was a bed attached to a wooden trunk next to the headboard equipped with a foam mattress covered by an old blanket; without waiting for anything else, the diarist had just exposed her hallucinatory nakedness before my greedy look of killing falling into those succulent meats. "Come fuck me! Afff! I swallow very hard!" she said, taking a whipping as she whipped herself up over the shelter, leaving the bucketous leg to show well. I jumped on her like a hungry faun, sticking the pistol in the mouth of the cave and striking with such eloquence that I ended up sticking the brute in at once, causing such a commotion in the diarist that it did not contain a hysterical scream; we fucked with such enthusiasm that it did not take long for my partner to enjoy some good jokes whose nectar poured from her vulva licking my belly and spitting on the quilt. At one point, the dog crouched over me, resting her hands on my shoulders and leaning down enough so that she could, with the use of her waist and pelvis, raise her ass down and up on me like a battering ram, enjoying more enjoyments whose warm liquid trickled from the bottle over my belly, leaving everything more moldy than it already was; my erection that some time before was on the heights could no longer withstand the harassment of Solange whose movements guarded the intention of draining my vital energy to the last drop by not diminishing and giving much less signs of cooling. We switched to the "puppy dog" position with Solange still unleashing a dizzying attack on my pinkie with the sweat pouring through all the pores of our bodies brought to its limit. I also took the opportunity to give many slaps on those fat buttocks squeezing until I squeezed the meat between my fingers listening to my jerk moan of hard-on; again and again I still gave a few fingers in her brioche and even groaning I knew she was enjoying it; we reached the point where she was already having so much fun and I was making my last efforts to give her everything she deserved. And in a last abused gesture I pulled the cock out of her mealy bucket and rubbed the cock wasting no time in giving a few kicks until the brute got inside. Solange pretended that she didn't like it, but when I intensified the kicks in the rolled-up brioche she didn't resist and let out hysterical screams of pleasure. <unk>Ahhh! You kid! Fucking my ass! Ahnnn! That! That! Kick! Kick with gusto! Uhhh! Afff! Aiii! Wait ..., wait ..., Ahhh! Tô enjoyingoooooooo! Argh!<unk>, she muttered while trying a good kick in the ass! My enthusiasm was of such a magnitude that I didn't even have time to warn her about my peak that without warning she burst into a burst of joy by filling her kitchen with male milk; sweating and drinking to exhaustion I unhooked and separated her tight buttocks by enjoying the spectacle of my semen dripping from the brioche over the back of the bed. When we recovered, we ran to fix the quilt whose marks denounced our fuck, and even after two washes in the machine the result was cheesy; Solange suggested that I put an end to it and that's exactly what I did, putting it in a garbage bag and leaving it in the public trash I was in a nearby square. Solange and I swore that it would be our secret, but when my wife returned from a trip it didn't take long for her distrust to issue an alert; first it was the quilt that she asked several times what had happened to her, without me having a good explanation; and even with Solange stating that she knew nothing about it, my wife didn't hold back and a few weeks later dismissed the diarist without further ado; I kind of gave up on her so that she never came back to see us again as my wife ... she took care of a new contractor, an old contractor, and a little more aptly!