The telephone rang in Jan Stater's Aberdeen house.  It was mid evening on a blisteringly hot late July day.  Hubby had just come in from his sales visits.

He'd made a decision years ago that the annual six weeks of summer Hebridean family holidaying would continue, even though, in recent years, he'd found himself trapped in his business for the duration.  At least his kids didn't spend the holidays standing under the lamp-posts at the top of the street, bored.

Hubby looked forward to his daily telephone briefings on how the sun-baked cycling, canoeing, wet-suited sea-swimming, fishing, rock-pooling, raft-building, air-rifling and walking and rock-scrambling activities were going.  He had taught all of his kids how to do these things since they were aged about 2.

It pleased him to hear that his kids, together with their summer friends, were busy roundering, footballing, beachcombing, beach-volleyballing, sand-castling, bonfiring, bbqing and marshmallow-toasting till well past midnight and its still warm half daylight.

Hubby wasn't expecting Jan to call since she'd already phoned his mobie when she got back fom the little island, on the last ferry, at 6.30.

'Hello...'

'Hiya, it's me.  Howsu? The kids are down at the ticket office.  An ice cream van has turned up.  They're down buying cones.  They're going to do roller blading with their pals. The coaches have all gone for the day.'

'Is it still warm?'

'It's luverly.  The sun's been out since 11.00.  The wind dropped about 12.00.  There's enough of a slight breeze to keep the midges away.  We've had a super day.'

'I'm not jealous...'

'I WANT YOUR BODY...'

Hubby was not uninterested in this revelation fom Jan Stater.  The only, not inconsiderable, difficulty was that Jan Stater was some 250 not-as-the-crow-flies miles away fom Aberdeen.  It was a 6 hour drive across to the West Coast and the ferries did not kick off at Oban until after 8.00 the next morning.

'Are there any adults with the kids?'

'Yus.  Pom and Stu are fishing down at the pier.  They're staying there till sunrise.'

'OK.  Tell them that you're going off to fetch drinking water.  Then go down to the phone kiosk past the junction.  That one where you look down on the Paps of Jura.  Phone me from there.'

'OK.'

'Oh, one other thing...MAKE SURE YOU TAKE YOUR KNICKERS OFF IN the white van BEFORE YOU GO INTO THE PHONE BOX.'

'ooooohhhhh!!!  I'll go and speak to Pom.  I'll be about 20 minutes...Bye.'

It was plausible.  The only source of drinking water which didn't need boiled was the community tap outside the whitewashed toilets, by the one-appliance fire station, in the next village.

From time to time, Jan Stater did indeed collect cool, fresh burn water, for drinking, from the tap.  Hebridean summer visitor life. 

Staggering down the ten steps that let down from the outside tap to the parked white van, carrying five gallons of peat-browned, natural, chilled, hill-sourced water was, after all, part of the summer fun.  Hubby could carry ten gallons down to the white van, five in each hand, no bother, when  he was present. 

Hubby filled in a bit of time while waiting for Jan to phone.  He would call her back from his computer in the house.  Hubby had the avantage of 'hands-free' telephone technology at his disposal.

His mind drifted to random flashbacks of sex with Jan Stater.  there was plenty to choose from.  They'd been banging each other for twenty nine years.  They'd never run out of ideas, at least not for any length of time.  The Drama Teacher in him could prove useful. 

Whatever he came up with he could cunt on Jan to offer up her cunt.  She had never been one to hold back, from when he got into her knickers, two weeks after he met her, in the late seventies, as a 19 year old student, all those years ago, right up to the present day.

She'd been neat then, size 12, pert little 34Bs, small waist, slightly bigger, 36" child bearing hips underneath.  She had a really good, long slitted, big lipped, dark-brown-triangled fanny.  Tight, really tight, of course.  Unused and untouched by anyone, so she said.  Indeed, unseen by male eyes, so she claimed.

When he got her back to his house for their first time alone together, after the heavy petting had progressed and before she was ready to give full sex, she hadn't hesitated when he asked her if the knickers came right off.  Until then they'd been  fondling and masturbating each other in parks and corners in student dance halls.

She had climaxed a couple of times already from the masturbating but he'd not had his chance to let her pull him off. 

He'd seen her fanny and fingered it, knickers lowered, with her seated on a park bench and seated in dance hall corners.  It wasn't the same though, was it, as getting her to lie down, take her knickers right off and open her legs?

She'd let him unbutton her blouse, pop her bra hooks, free up her beautiful breasts, bring out her lovely hard 19 year old nipples to be teased and sucked.

Lying down on the sheepskin rug, in front of the electric fire, flowery cotton knickers and smoked-spice tights pulled off and stashed in her handbag, legs spread and bare fanny willingly revealed, she'd guided her 18 year old to finger her just where and just how she wanted.

She'd said to him, whispering, giving little sighs, 'Do the top bit...stroke it at the top...there....don't press...do it gently...do it slowly...'

Hubby remembered that, for a claimed beginner at these things, she seemed to know how to give him a good wank as she took the fingering of her soaking crack, clitoris bud hardened solid.

Hubby remembered the wetness on her and the instant response to her being touched.  He remembered the film of juice running down the inside of her thighs.  He remembered the fresh sex smell of her flowing, clear lubricant. 

He'd been well brought up, private-school-educated.  It was the late seventies.  He made no attempt to force her to fuck and she liked that.

When they'd both climaxed for the first time together and after she'd, rather deftly, for a complete beginner, got a tissue from her handbag to wipe the cum off her tits, drying boyfriend's cock with a second, unused tissue, expertly, she'd smiled her huge smile and said, 'Now THAT REEEEEELY does something for me...'

Hubby had wondered, more than once, whether she was the quiet 19 year old virgin in from her little coastal town that she claimed to be.  She was, after all, in her second year.  She was almost two years older than him, almost 20.

Hubby thought of the time when, one summer weekend, soon after the fucking for real had started, they both dashed upstairs to the back bedroom when her elderly parents went off to do the shopping.

He had her knickers off her bare legs in seconds.  Her tits were puilled out over the top of her seersucker-topped summer dress, instantly.

She'd got his cock out equally efficiently and wanked it up furiously, top teeth nipping lower lip, eager willingness gleaming in her eyes.

He'd said to her, 'You could do a handstand against the door and I'll put it it up you...'

He'd been half expecting her to be shy, to say no, to suggest something else.

However, no probs.  Down she went in a flash.  Up went the hillwalking young legs, down fell the dress, out flashed the spread, soaking pink lips of the brown-pubed and good-slitted snatch and in went the athletically-given rock hard cock, very nicely too, thank you.

After she'd cum, in no time, she was up for a second fuck, in minutes.  Wet with her unlimited juice, cum running down her thighs, she took her second fuck as a backward wheelbarrow, arms braced behind her, splayed-legged, fanny poked out, receptively, at the proffered, good-sized cock, eyes fixed on what he was doing to her and what she was taking. 

Basicly...she was up for any fuck, any how, any time. Things hadn't changed that much, even these days in her late forties.  Jan Stater was a GOER.

Hubby fast-forwarded.  The fantasy mature sex was often brilliant.  Like any man he liked the idea of her being fucked by the  men around her. 

She'd been open about her sexual desires for the men she worked with.  It was a girls' school.  She wasn't spoiled for choice but there were the  two ex men-in-uniform to consider. 

And, of course, the visiting Marines and their Bandsmen. 

Then there were the visiting Businessmen speakers, the Cops, the Solicitors, the Coach Drivers, The Electricians, the Architect, The Burglar Alarm  mannies, the Plumber The Security Consultant, the Window boys the Computer Boy, the Postie...

It had been a bad result when HIMSELF had been caught fucking the Head Girl  (You couldn't make THAT  up, could you??) and had to leave, taking with him the only obviously decent and busy cock in St Anonimous. 

The Staffroom view, amongst the ladies, led on by Mrs Stater, was that the Headmistress of St Anonimous, Mrs McCabe had, at her timetabling board, found out for herself MORE THAN ONCE why the Head Girl had been so tempted...MORE THAN ONCE! 

Jan Stater had mind-fucked them all, using Hubby just as an erect cock.  Some of her most extravagant sexual behaviour had been directed at these men, over the years. 

It had been a long marriage.  You had to keep things going a bit, didn't you? 

Hubby didn't object, after all these years, to her mind-straying.  Of course, he did wonder whether she told him everything about her involvement with the men around her at St Anonimous with whom she contemplated fucking.

She'd asked for sex one afternoon.  She was at her best when she instigated sex.  Often it would be a first thing in the morning move, or, as in this case, mid afternoon.

Hubby had made some phone calls to the workshop while she vanished for some girlie time in the bathroom.  She'd got the putting-in of her cap down to a fine art.  It never got in the way.  She could be prepared, creamed-up and cap-inserted in less than two minutes. 

Of course it gave her a chance to get her own fingers on her bits.  No harm in that, after all.

Hubby came in to the upstairs lounge to find her seated on the couch.

She'd put on an a blue, button up, calf length cotton A-line skirt and she was wearing little blue court shoes with a nice heel.  She'd put on a little three-button wool top, sleeveless, arm baring, quite low cut. 

There was no bra and Hubby could see the hanging, heavy breasts outlined, nipples protruding even through the thickness of the wool. 

She liked wearing that top to work.  The male teachers could see into the deep spaces around the arm holes, get a good view in to her bra and underarms, especially if she leaned forward a bit to let the weight of her breasts pull at the top.  Nice.

She'd not shaved her underarms that day or for a couple of days.  She wasn't hairy but there was a dark, sexually-suggestive shadow showing as she raised her arms to fasten her dark brown hair up in a clasp.

There was something else though.

They'd been recently fucking their way through scenarios involving her and The Colonel from the school. 

He was a retired veteran helicopter pilot who'd been under fire in The Falklands.  Jan Stater was impressed by that.  There was also a bit of 'what might have been' when Jan thought back to her teenage exploits amongst the Lossiemouth pilots and aircrew at the Two Red Shoes up in Elgin.

She'd kept remarkably sturm about all of that over the years but she did let slip once that she was familiar with the internal layout of the white-painted crew accommodation blocks on the edge of Elgin. 

She knew that he liked her.  She'd told Hubby how The Colonel had one day, in the empty school office at St Anonimous, placed his hand on her shoulder, let it linger, just a bit too long, how he had pressed on and felt Mrs Stater's bra strap. 

She'd had on a lacey white bra that day.  It was showing through her thin white blouse, she told Hubby.  Her nipples were up, she'd said.

She also told hubby that the blouse was a bit on the tight side.  Her good breasts were opening up the buttons.  She knew that she was on show throught the straining buttons and the gaps between them.  She knew that The Colonel would have been looking.

Hubby asked her what she did.  He wasn't entirely sure if he believed Jan when she said that she just looked at The Colonel, not saying anything. 

Did that mean she nipped her lower lip with her top teeth?  Was the look a disapproving look, or knowing, or coy and inviting?  Hubby would never know.

They'd worked their way through various options open to her.  Initially Jan was letting The Colonel masturbate her in his office, in the school, as she sat, short-skirted, knickers-off, legs opened wide, on his office table, by his double-barrelled name plate, next to the pilot figurine.

He was seated in front of her in a pulled-up chair, wanking his massive  pilot-warrior cock at her.

Then she thought of giving him hand jobs in hotel rooms, after inservice training days at the school,  both naked of course and Jan taking good, slow masturation from The Colonel, while giving same to him.

Jan  Stater took to that idea well.  On the second time it was used she played it out just a bit further. 

She was on the bed with Hubby, seated next to him.  She was being led through some mutual masturbation with The Colonel, in a hotel room, after work.  Jan Stater was awash.

She was cock-handling Hubby but away in a world of her own with The Colonel and his full attentions.

She was staring fixedly at the erection, giving slow, full shaft pulls, stretching the skin back, thin.  She was applying a tight grip, squeezing, urging the cock up to full hardness.

As she was slit-pleasured, she let out a gasp.  She swept her dark brown fringe back out of her eyes with her left hand, keeping her hand there to hold her fringe back for what she had in mind.

Without a word she moved swiftly on to her knees, dipped at the shining purple head, and almost self-consciously, put her warm, moist mouth over the head of the cock.

For just a moment she was almost unsure, waiting perhaps for Hubby to object to her so obviously imagining cocksucking The Colonel.

Jan needn't have worried.  Hubby hardened still further, poked his cock in Jan's mouth all the way, making her swallow the pushed back saliva and said to her, 'I think The Colonel would appreciate you doing that for him...you're very, very good at it...'

Jan Stater needed no further encouragement.  The deep, powerful, unrestrained sucking of The Colonel began and, accompanied by Jan Stater's fabulous, expert masturbation, it continued for an hour until Jan gasped out her huge climax around The Colonel's well polished, gleaming, pre-cum-coated, satin-smooth head.

Hubby had put his mobile phone on silent as he entered the lounge.

JAN STATER WAS FORTY+ FUCKING, PHEREMONAL PHENOMENAL.

She was sitting on the couch.  She'd opened four out of the five skirt buttons and two out of the three buttons on her top.

She had her legs spread wide.  There were no knickers to get in the way. 

She sat with her two hands placed, fingers spread, on the dark hoops at the top of her stockings.  She smiled, as if nervous, and looked away, almost. turning her head to the side. 

Hubby's stage 2 stiffie went into full stage 3 erection instantly.  His cock was bursting out, forcing its way upwards, past the trouser waist band and against his belly, burning.

Jan giggled softly and nipped her lower lip with her top teeth.

It was pure porn-posing by the 46 year old Mrs Stater. 

Her dark-pubed fanny looked massive.  Her tufted, curly pubes were striking.  Her vulva looked pinker than ever, almost reddish.  Her lips were swollen full up.  Her entrance looked almost open from where Hubby was standing. She was glistening with juice.

'I think you might just capture his attention... ' Hubby said.

Jan sighed, modestly, shyly almost.  Then she spread her legs just a bit further, just as far as she possibly could.  She looked down at her tits, reached into her top, two-handed and lifted them out of the top and let them dangle, supporting them with cupped hands.

She looked up, smiled and then turned her attention to her right nipple. 

She supported her right tit with her left hand while she stroked her right nipple from the side.  Hubby watched, cock throbbing, as she pushed and worked the nipple into her breast, her favourite nipple stimulation.

Hubby went over and sat next to her.  He felt her tits, touched the hard nipples.  He stroked the thigh area where the stocking tops ended.  He let his fingers creep towards the fanny.  He ran his fingers through the tufted pubes.  He touched her crack with a sideways run of four intruding fingers.

Jan shook and trembled as she gasped.

'CHRIST...YOU ARE SOAKING...HOW DID YOU GET SO WET?'

Jan blushed.  Yes, at 46 years of age Jan Stater blushed.

Hubby didn't really need an answer, of course.  He reached across and took Jan's right hand fingers.  He ran them under his nose and took in the scent.

Jan's fingers were coated with fresh, still moist juice.  She'd taken her chance to get herself ready for The Colonel prior to Hubby coming up from the telephone.

As she let Hubby take the fanny scent off her moist finger tips and as she took his fingers vibrating their gentle way along her slit she moaned, softly, 'O..mi..god...'

Jan was now with The Colonel.  She had to suck cock.

She moved almost methodically, with concentration.  She undid the zip and opened the trouser top button.  She pushed her hand in, flat and took the warmth that was there, on her skin. 

She ruffled the soft, just showered pubes.  She gripped and squeezed the solid cock, taking the weight in it. She held the solidness of the balls in her cupped palm. She ran her thumb between them, creasing the ball sack, separating the balls so she could feel them move.

She then pulled the cock out, shoved the trousers back out of her way and made her move. 

She leaned over, pulled the foreskin right back off the cock and pounced on it, ramming the swollen firmness in her mouth as far as it would go without making her gag.

Hubby let her go off in her dream.  The Colonel was slurped at, almost noisily.  He was sucked tight and long, rim-licked and wanked for at least half an hour. 

Jan was swallowing his cock-taste  on her mouthfuls of saliva time after time.  Increasingly she would have been taking the pre-cum down her throat. 

He experienced Jan doing  hands-free cocksuck pulls, mouth gripping on tight, hands being used to keep her hair back out of her eyes, letting nothing come between her and her cocksucking.

Sometimes she had her eyes closed.  Sometimes she was staring, big eyed, savouring what she was doing to The Colonel, enjoying the masculinity filling her mouth. 

When she was ready, Jan took the cock out of her mouth.  She was ready to let The Colonel fuck her to completion.

Jan lay flat on the couch and took up her submissive 'fuck me now', knees-raised position.

Nothing much was said as she was mounted by her Colonel and fucked straight off.

It didn't take long and it didn't involve much.  She was screwed without any great fuss.  She was simply stuffed a few times, cock and balls ground on her and big hard cock pressed against her bone.

Jan's slit was as soft and as soaked as Hubby had ever felt it to be.

Jan was simply miles away, eyes closed, arms hanging limp by her side as she thought her thoughts and took her pleasure.

She came quietly and with a few little trembles.  She then lay completely still.

It was Hubby's turn.  She'd not closed down as she came and she was still soft and slippery.

Hubby fucked at her for just a few minutes until he took his finishing pleasure off her.

They lay still.  Nothing was said.

A beeping noise came from the clock downstairs in the kitchen.  It was time to pick the kids up from school.

There would, however, be more sex later that night.

The phone rang in Hubby's office.

'It's me.  ring me back...'

Hubby clicked on the computer and listened as the modem trilled its connection to the red phone kiosk overlooking the staggering, massive Paps of Jura rising out of an ultra blue, evening-sun-shimmering, flat mirror. 

The kiosk was perhaps the remotest in Scotland.  The parking space was about 25 metres away on the single track road.  In summer you'd to push through the 2 metre deep ferns to get at the door.  It was completely secluded.  Perfect.

They'd not done this before.  Hands free telephony would prove useful.

'CHRRRRRRIST, I'm feeling randy.  It's the time of the month.'

'Are your knickers off?

'Of course.'

'Pull your zip down...'

'I already have...I've got my middle finger in...oh...oh...I wish you were here...I want you up me...are you doing it?'

Hubby was indeed participating.  He'd his cock out and in use.  The excitement was more at the other end of the phone though.  Jan Stater was nearly orgasmic, already.

'Have you got a bra on...'

'No...just a little top, the lilac one.  I've been out all day braless.  I went shopping...the tourists were looking...one bloke followed me round the stores...I went down the steps to buy a book... he followed me down...I crouched down.. he was looking at my thong down the back of my jeans...I let him look down the top at me...he took a reeeeeely good look...he had shorts on...nice, fit body...tanned..t-shirt...he was erect...his wife was outside...I smiled at him...oh..oh...oh'

'Is the bloke with the camper van still next to you?'

'ohhhhh....yes....he's washing himself in the sea every morning...Pom told me...I watch him...he knows I'm watching...I see him nude in his awning....I open the toilet cubicle window...I'm looking down at him...his cock's beautiful...it's thick...he's got good balls...he's got dark brown body hair...oh, oh, oh...this morning he was holding his cock...it was swollen...not erect...but big....big enough...'

'Wash your hair tomorrow morning in front of him...open the window to its widest ...let him see you dangling your tits....you can run your hands through your wet hair...'

'I'm going to cum....uh...uh...uh'

'Take your tits out of your top...make yourself finish...'

Jan got busy.  Her breathing speeded up, she was gasping.  Hubby timed things at his end.  Just as Jan was poised to climax, Hubby spurted into his cupped palm.  Jan heard his snapped little sighs and came with him.

It wasn't bad for a pair of beginners.  Telephone sex overlooking the Paps of Jura.  Soon it would be cyber sex if they weren't careful.

'Tomorrow, after you've flashed your tits at him, meet him as he walks back from the sea...he'll know to roll his foreskin back for you...don't put on a bra...wear a thong...take a good look at what he's got...just strike up a conversation...'

'OOOOMIGOD....'

Mull Glow and Iona Boy of Mull and Iona