“Oh, Hey man. We got you something in the bag.” Cal offered. “It’s a Chucky visor. If the game goes bad you can throw it and stomp on it.”
Logan looked in the bag. The visor was in the bottom. On top of that was his wife’s shorts and top. Taylor didn’t mention taking off her bra. No wonder her nipples were making points against the jersey. His wife winked at him. He put on the visor and tried to ignore the jerking in the pit of his stomach.
The whole conversation was between the black man and Logan’s wife. There was a lot of touching going on between them. Logan was doing the slide glance while his cock was throbbing from what he was witnessing. Then Cal showed off one of his smooth moves. He pointed across the stadium and off to the right. As she leaned up to look his left hand went to her bare right thigh. A light touch at first and when Taylor didn’t resist the palm went down and slid up towards her pussy.
Logan about shit himself. The idea of the old black man trying that on the young wife was surprising, but not as surprising as when she did not make him stop. Words didn’t work for Logan although he did think his lips might have moved.
The nerve of the bastard. The guy must be late forties and thinking a young women would let him get away with that! But, she did let him get away with that. Taylor’s like of older men was going well beyond the seven years difference between herself and her husband. This more like twenty.
“Why do I keep getting this hardon?” Logan kept scolding to himself.
The interaction continued. Taylor didn’t seemed phased by Cal’s hand on her thigh. The hand stayed in contact as Cal moved it along her thigh out to her knee and then back up towards her pussy again. This time it went higher. Taylor opened her legs a little wider. With no one near them in the seats around them the black man had free reign. Having her husband on her left didn’t faze her.
The hand went up her thigh again. The dark brown fingers looked huge. He had to be touching her pussy through her panties. The young wife sucked in her breath. Only his arm was visible now. Hand and fingers were completely up her short skirt. Logan hadn’t taken a breath in minutes.
The arm twisted as fingers were repositioned. Taylor whimpered and threw her head back a little. He had to have a finger or fingers in her now. Taylor was breathing in a short shallow panting. The arm movement could not be mistaken. Cal was finger-fucking Logan’s white wife. Logan barely heard her hiss under her breath:
“You’re going to get you fingers sticky!”
“I’ll make the stickier than that.” Cal tried to whisper back.
“Oh, God. You’re making me cum!
Taylor was a little louder this time. She lurched in the seat and leaned into him. She grabbed his arm as she nestled against his chest. There was almost a scream that muffled into a quiet screech. Cal had made her cum.
They sat there quietly for a while. Taylor’s hand was on the inside of Cal’s thigh this time. She was stroking him softly through his pants. Logan stared at a bulged knob that was way to close to Cal’s knee.