Star Item at Garage Sale

Like many couples, we had a garage that we could not actually get the car into because it was full of "stuff" that my husband had accumulated over the years and never used ("it will come in handy one day. . .") or else had never got round to clearing out, once it had served it's purpose. How emotionally attached can you actually get to hedgetrimmers for example?!

OK, I accept that for my part, I perhaps took too much of our wardrobe space with clothes, lingerie, shoes and boots - but hey, a girl's prerogative, right?! lol

Anyway, about a year before he died (and after perhaps a little too much nagging on my part!), my hubby decided to convert his "possessions" into cash and held a garage sale, one Saturday morning. Flyers in the pub, post office, church social club and local shop ensured that he wouldn't be sat on his own for too long. In actual fact, we had a steady stream of interested, like minded, men of a certain age.

I served tea, coffee and bacon and sausage rolls in the kitchen to top up our profits for the day. As we sat in the kitchen having a cuppa before he opened the garage, our neighbour, a pensioner called Les, popped his head in to ask if he could have a sneak preview. So hubby took his "Garage Sale" sign - and Les - out to open up; as I hung my "Kitchen Open" sign, on the door.

I have occasionally fantasised since, about me, attempting to outdo my husband's sale by replacing my "Kitchen Open" sign with a "Whore for Sale" welcome on the door - with an additional arrow inside pointing to our guest bedroom. Three rules:

£50 a go - and only one cum per session

A £10 premium to cum in my mouth

No condoms

I would dress in my favourite electric blue, transparent, lace bra and thong, white hold ups and white stilettos.

Les almost had a heart attack when he saw my sign sat next to hubby's in the kitchen. His jaw dropped as he looked at our faces, trying to figure out if what he had read was simply a mirage. Nodding to my sign, he mumbled, "Is it possible I could have a sneak preview?"

I said "Of course! Follow me". I left the bedroom door open (I secretly wanted my hubby to see me being dressed to please, and fucked by another man - or better still, a string of other men).

Les was so sweet. He could not look me in the eye and he was blushing as he handed his money over. But the bulge in his pants told me he was very pleased at the prospect of doing business with me. I put one hand on his shoulder to pull him in close and gave him a long, slow, wet kiss. With my other hand, I stroked his hardness through his trousers. I was thrilled that for a man in his 70s (and who we had guessed had not had sex with his wife Maureen for quite a few years), he had a lovely, proud erection. I extricated his stiffy from his trousers and my fingers worked the length of his shaft and caressed the head which was oozing precum even before I had it fully exposed.

He meanwhile, lost no time in ripping aside my thong and jamming two fingers deep in my pussy. Luckily, being the horny bitch I was in those days, I was almost always, well lubricated; so enjoyed thoroughly this sudden penetration. I spun around, bent over the bottom end rail of the bed and spread my legs to give him easier and deeper access. Whether he mis-read that signal or not, he instead, rammed his cock home with all the subtlety of a dog mounting a bitch. He told me later he had never done it still fully clothed before - and standing had certainly helped to better accommodate his arthritis.

He pounded into me like a man possessed, one hand trying to hold an entire boob, and the other hand pulling my hair tightly from behind (which I have always loved). I don't know if he was having a religious experience but he was saying, "Oh God, Brenda you are wonderful!" and "Sweet Jesus, your pussy feels so good!" and "Oh Lord, I think I'm going to come!". Religious experience or not, rule one above, there would be no second coming!

I started pushing back against him harder and faster to help him reach his climax. Suddenly, almost panicking, he pleaded, "Let me cum in your mouth Brenda! I've never cum in a woman's mouth before". I surprised myself with my calm businesslike response "£10 extra!" before dropping to my knees and fellating the head with my mouth and tongue, whist wanking his shaft at breakneck speed. Les had pretty much given up any attempts to thrust back and forth; and simply surrendered to my oral caresses.

Through the open window I could hear Maureen saying to my husband, "Good morning! Is Les around? He said he was coming here early to beat the rush". At that moment, Les, his legs shaking so violently that I thought he was in danger of collapsing, shot his load, shouting "Oh fuck, Brenda, that was magnificent!". He didn't have the volume or thickness of my hubby's spunk but no matter, I am a cum addict - I just love the taste of it!

For the rest of the day, I left my thong off as it was simply getting in the way. I had a steady stream of callers and was still going strong when my hubby closed the garage at 4pm. A couple of the men were strangers but in the main they were locals who I just KNEW had previously gone home and wanked themselves silly over me, having crossed paths in the pub, or church. And now here they were living out their fantasy that I was actually a slut who was gagging for it.

It adds a wonderful additional dimension to the memory of that day whenever it comes to mind. And though my husband would be mortified by such behaviour on my part, it is a thrill to think of myself as the star of the garage sale! xx