Pat and I were in bed. She was sitting on my dick which had begun to deflate after filling her tight pussy with my cream. For a fifty-six-year-old, Pat has exceptional control over her vaginal muscles. It's incredible how she can pull the last few drops of cum from my balls with them.
Instead of dismounting, Pat remained on my dick. She had a disconcerted look on her face, so I asked if she hadn't enjoyed our romp.
"Of course I did. I always do. It's just that there is something I have been meaning to tell you. I have for some time but couldn't bring myself to." Pat paused and took a deep breath, "Do you remember that night you caught Brian Wainwright and me in the bedroom at a party?"
I couldn't believe it. That party was thirty-five or so years ago. We had only been dating a few months, but unfortunately, I still remember it.
I hadn't seen Pat for some time at the party and decided to look for her. I found her in a bedroom with Brian, a so-called friend of ours. They were in each other's arms kissing. Clearly, Brian was more friendly with Pat than me. Pat assured me all they did was a kiss, and he got his hand in her bra for a quick feel. It caused a big argument between us, and I didn't see Pat for two weeks.
Pat's question brought back bad memories, "I remember. Why?"
"I wasn't honest with you. If you had have sniffed Brian's fingers, you would have known where they had been. He had had his hand in my panties and fingers inside me," Pat confessed.
"So if I hadn't have come in, what would have happened?" I wanted to know.
Pat took another deep breath, "Can't you guess? I had already told Brian he could fuck me. That's why we were in the bedroom."
We stared at each other in silence. It was difficult for me to react badly because my cock began to respond.
"Anything else I should know?"
Pat smiled, "You are getting hard?"
"Never mind that. Is that everything?" I asked sharply. I tried to keep myself composed, but it wasn't easy under the circumstances.
Pat leaned over and kissed me. Then she whispered, "I can feel it getting harder." She sat up and told me what I already knew, "It's stiff enough to fuck now."
I let Pat ride me for a while and then pushed her over. We spooned first and had energetic sex in several other positions. Pat screamed when she was having an orgasm and moaned loudly when she wasn't. I came while doing her doggy—our favorite position.
The next day there was an atmosphere in the house. I wanted to tell Pat I didn't mind what she did with Brian. Not even that she had told him, she was willing to have sex with him. She hadn't, and it was a long time ago. The most important thing I got out of Pat's story was how aroused I became thinking about Pat opening her legs for another cock.
I thought Pat might have said something, but she didn't.
The following evening we were getting ready to go out and meet some friends at a bar. While I was in the ensuite shaving, I could see Pat in the mirror. She was in the bedroom, naked. I took my time and watched her dressing.
First, Pat stepped into a pair of black bikini panties. She had her back to me, and I admired her ass while she put the bra from the set on. Then came a surprise. Pat put a black garter belt on and then black stockings.
I had always liked Pat in a garter belt and stockings, but she hadn't worn them for quite a while.
Next was a black skirt. The skirt had a slit up the right-hand side that went past her stocking top. From a hanger, Pat got her white blouse and put that on. She turned to face me and asked, "What do you think?"
"Great," I told Pat, but at the same time, a cold shiver went down my spine. I had a flashback. Pat was wearing almost the same as the night at the party. Not the same clothes, of course, but in all black, barring a white blouse. And I remembered she wore a belt and stockings then too.
It was more than weird when Pat slipped her feet into a pair of heels. She never wore them so high back then, but she had that night.
Not wanting to make a fuss about something that was probably a coincidence, I kept quiet.
At the bar, we were having a good time. I couldn't help but notice that Pat seemed to go out of her way to sit, so her skirt showed the stocking top and bare thigh. Neither did our male friends we were with.
Last to arrive was twenty-something Des. He is single and was alone. Pat and Des have never been that friendly, but Pat seemed to cling to him. She kept touching him while they spoke and laughed at things he said that weren't funny.
Pat got Des up for a slow dance. He was reluctant, but Pat insisted. On the floor, Pat put her hands around Des's neck. There was quite a difference in their height, so Pat had to reach. It caused a bit of a stir because Pat's skirt rode up. Anyone that cared to look could see Pat was wearing stockings.