Naughty Wife Diary: Changing room quickie

How does one execute a perfect quickie in a changing room?

The swimming pool was almost deserted. But there were still a couple fingering themselves in it.

How did I know? I knew they were fingering themselves because the man’s hands had been underwater longer than necessary and the woman giggling longer than was necessary. The pool must be swimming with a horde of spermatozoa and c*nt juice.

“Hi, darling,” I looped my arms around Jimmy’s neck, stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He felt stiff kind of.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” He said.

And he was right, the hardon down there had disappeared. And there was no way s*x was going to happen without an erection.
I pulled away, reluctantly. “Okay, then. I should give you a bl*wjob?”

“What if someone…”

“Just keep your eyes on the window, towards the pool.” Backing the window, I went down on my knees and pulled down his swimming trunk low enough to reveal what I wanted.

Giving a good bl*wjob doesn’t require any difficult gimmick. Just pop the popsicle into your mouth and suck steadily for as long as you can. Don’t play with his balls with your mouth. Men are too sensitive about their balls and might worry you would mistakenly crush them. So, you could lose the erection you worked so hard to produce.

If you must play with his balls, do it with your hands. And be careful using your teeth near his shaft. Teeth and penis are not good friends.

Anyway, because Jimmy was too worried about people coming in there, I was able to work up just a mild erection.
That is how far our quickie went that day.

We went home. We did nothing at home. I decided to clean the house. Then I got a call from my friend.

“Let’s go to the village market. They have all the foodstuff you can ever think of at a cheaper rate,” she prattled on.
Why is that the only thing married women bother about – market and food? What about recreational activities? I know that marriage is not a death sentence to fun. She should have called to hang out somewhere for undiluted fun.

“Today is a weekend,” I replied her. “Shouldn’t you be screwing that husband of yours? I am sure you guys have not really f*cked this past weeks.”

“We did it last week,” she mumbled.

“No wonder your husband is growing big tummy this days. So so food and only one round a week.” I chuckled.

“Yeye woman,” she laughed. “Are you going to the market or not?”

“I’m going.”

I went to the market later.

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