Flashback Fantasy to A Fifties Fetish

Flashback Fantasy to A Fifties Fetish

Mike had never been happier.

He had just fucked Jennifer for more than two hours, eating her pussy, fucking doggy style, watching her tickle her clit with her little silver vibrator and receiving the blow job of his life. Now, she was in the kitchen cooking him breakfast. Seeing a woman in a sheer pink 1950s nightie cooking eggs made him hard. Again.

Call him old-fashioned, but he did believe women belonged in the kitchen and they should do what their man asked them to do. He had had plenty of career women tell him he was an arse for believing this but, hey, he liked what he liked. And nothing mad him harder and more sexually-charged than having a woman at his beck-and-call.

Jennifer played the role perfectly. She had arrived at his bungalow’s door dressed in a red-and-white polka dotted 1940s dress that fit tight in the waist with padded shoulders and a hem below the knee. She had on conservative high heels, and her blond hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. A push-up bra highlighted her tits, and her crimson lips were pouty, ready for a kiss.

Mike had a list of chores ready for when she arrived. Make him a martini. Vacuum his rug. Listen to him talk about his day. Agree with everything he said. Make him another drink. Do a striptease for him. Follow him to the bedroom. Get on the bed. Do as he says. Jennifer never questioned any of it. When he said he would like to fuck her in the ass, she wasted no time shimmying to the edge of the bed, getting on all fours and letting him plunge his cock into her. Only one other girl had ever let him do that. Now he had found another one.

“Your eggs and toast,” Jennifer said as she served him breakfast. “More coffee?”

“Yes,” he said.

This is how men should be treated. All the time.

Returning with the coffee pot, she poured his coffee and he cupped his hand around one of her tits and tugged at her nipple. She almost spilled the coffee but managed to retain control.

“You like that,” Mike said.

“I like everything you do to me,” she said.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said.

He had always had a fantasy of eating breakfast while a woman masturbated in front of him. He wondered if Jennifer would do that. Of course, she would. What was he thinking?

“I need you to go get your little toy beside the bed and get on the table,” he said.

“This table?” she asked.

Mike loved vintage furniture, and his large Formica table was definitely big enough for Jennifer to fulfill his fantasy.

“Yes, this one. I want to watch you cum while I have breakfast,” he said.

Smiling, Jennifer said, “You are such a naughty boy.”

“I am, and you love it,” he said.

Vanishing for only a few minutes, Jennifer returned. “Should I keep this on or take it off?”

“Keep it on, it’s not like you have panties on anyway,” he said.

Climbing on the table, Jennifer spread her legs. Mike smiled. This was a pussy he could stare at every day for the rest of his life. With just a landing strip – he preferred a full jungle bush but he understood modern times – her pink clit glistened. She turned on the buzzy gadget and touched it to the head of her rosebud clit. To Mike, it looked exactly like a flower. A very lovely, tasty flower.

“Don’t come immediately,” Mike ordered. “Hold back.”

Biting her lip, it was sometimes hard for Jennifer not to cum, especially after a night of fucking. But she did as she was told while Mike ate his eggs and sipped on his mimosa. Finally, Jennifer couldn’t hold back for another second and she came with a squirting explosion.

“I wasn’t expecting a shower,” Mike said.

“It happens,” Jennifer said, demurely. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you this time,” Mike said.

“Can I get up now?”

“No, I just want to stare at your pussy for a minute,” he said.

So Jennifer laid there as Mike finished his food.

“Okay, you can now take off your nightie, and put on the apron that is in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Jennifer stood, pulled the nightie over her head and walked naked over to the kitchen. Pulling out a yellow gingham apron, she tied it around her waist. It covered her pussy but when she turned around, her perfectly rounded ass was exposed.

“Bend over the table,” Mike said.

Jennifer did as she was told, and Mike slapped her ass a couple of times.

“That’s to remind you to behave while I’m gone for an hour for a business meeting. You will behave, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Jennifer said.

“And don’t forget to put on the baby blue negligée and fix your makeup so you’re ready when I get back,” Mike said.

“I will,” Jennifer said. “And bake the cookies?”

“I forgot about those,” Mike said. “Good girl on remembering your chores.”

Kissing her on the cheek, Mike strutted out of the house, happier than he had been for years.

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