A handy hunk and my husband - part I.

The plumber’s eyes kept finding me. He said the pool pipes were clear, but he still wanted to check every opening. Before I knew it his hands were on my hips and his tongue was working between my legs while I lay on the lounge chair. I had his thick cock in my fist, stroking him hard, when the door slid open and my husband stepped out. He didn’t speak. He just watched me jerk that young plumber’s shaft while my legs stayed open, wet and waiting. The tension snapped. My husband came closer, unzipped, and offered his own cock to my lips. I took him in without pause, tasting salt on my tongue while my hand kept sliding up and down the plumber’s length. Two men, one blonde teen between them, the afternoon heat pressing in. My husband’s fingers knotted in my hair, guiding me deeper, while the plumber’s hands spread me wider, his cock throbbing against my palm. Neither spoke. Only the slick sound of my mouth and the steady rhythm of my fist filled the air. The plumber’s hips began to push into my grip. My husband’s breath grew ragged against my cheek. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.