Girls round (1)

Girls round (1)

Today is once again the much sought-after Greta Day. Greta is my best friend and once a month she invites our group of girls to brunch. We are a merry cloverleaf, all around 40, for whom this Saturday morning becomes a very special celebration. Greta, a voluptuous blonde, lives in a lovely penthouse on the river, equipped with every comfort. Unlike us, she’s single and not even thinking of committing. “Family is all well and good, but at some point the varnish wears off and everyone is on the lookout for a daring adventure. I’m better off that way. Free and independent as I am, I don’t have to commit to anyone and can let it rip whenever and wherever I feel like it.”

Greta Day
Typical for her, who hardly leaves anything to burn and always confronts us with the news of her sex life. Gerta is especially into young crunchy men, who usually have 10 to 15 years less than her. The blonde is in advertising, and pulls in this industry the hottest pike ashore. She especially prefers her lunch breaks, which she likes to make even more pleasant with the one or other quickie. But should that not work out, she is not picky otherwise. Greta doesn’t need to go on the hunt for men on dating portals at all. Probably the guys already smell her incomparable pussy scent and soon hang on her like wasps on the electric fly swatter.

All together
Apart from me, Ela and Carin are still announced. Greta always calls us “her three good housemothers” with a grin, who would only really get going with her. And that’s what we do, that is, we not only feast on the culinary highlights and great drinks. No, we also exchange ideas. About our secret desires, about our favorite sexual practices, about possible affairs and everything that makes erotic conversations so tingling. She always reproaches us with a laughing and a crying eye for not making full use of our hidden erotic potentials. “Girls, give it a rest, you’re absolutely immobile. You book the most expensive fitness courses, jog through the woods like savages, and then you run right past the real thing like blind voles. In their opinion, we are running past passionate eroticism, devoted ecstasy and sizzling sex. Which, and how right she is, our husbands have long since stopped offering us.

Debate about cum
By the way, Greta likes to ignite and like poisonous arrows her so psychologically well-meant advice hits right into our hearts. “You can’t tell me that your guys know the word fidelity, can you? Come on, while you’re tumbling around at some charity event, they’re fucking other holes. Squirt on young plump boobs their cum and let themselves be tortured a little now and then. Girls, don’t get bogged down in your concrete palazzi, let it rip, go on dating portals, buy callboys, fuck the pizza maker.” Every time Greta let out these tirades, she outdid herself. As a sex preacher she was simply stunning and honestly her words had an effect on us like sweet sustainable medicine. Whenever I came home from Greta, I was totally horny and ran like a restless tigress through our little villa. If I was lucky, I could immediately live out my urge on my husband. If he was not on the road. Probably with some chick who he licked out the pussy. Well!

On goes the girl round
When I come a little later today, I can already hear Ela and Carin giggling. Well, they are already really good on it. I ring the doorbell and Greta, dressed in an almost transparent housecoat and only a tiny pair of panties, opens the door with a flourish. “Hi sweetheart, how nice that you’re here,” she whispers, kisses and maneuvers me onto the pretty terrace, from which one has a brilliant view of the city, country and river. Ela and Carin are already there, sipping their lattes and greeting me with big hellos. Apparently I’ve already missed something, because as I read in the faces of my friends, Greta has a special program item again today. And indeed, right in front of me on the table is a pink casket. It reminds me a little of those mail-order boxes that women use to spice up their monthly beauty stash. “My little collection of sex toys that I don’t want to deprive you of, my darlings,” our hostess says with a smile and opens the box. Wow, a small but fine smorgasbord of different toys presents itself to our astonished eyes. Now our hostess grabs a lilac vibrator of futuristic design, licks frivolously over the smooth surface with her tongue and activates the starter.

The horny pleasure stick buzzes outrageously quietly, even as Greta presents us with the various rotating levels. The thing was she probably has not purchased in the sale, is my first thought, and the second that she can use the horny vib certainly also in the tub. Wow, such a frivolous pleasure maker would also be something for me, I think. Especially since the sex with my husband in recent times is becoming increasingly listless. So I could yet exciting to pass the time while he is still sitting in front of the TV or on the laptop.