Ay: Ocak 2021

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Hi, it’s Jordan again. I didn’t think I’d be writing more about my life, but the most amazing thing happened to me this last year. I fell in love.

If you didn’t read the first part of this story, a couple of years ago my husband divorced me. He left me without anything, and I needed to pay my bills, so I went to work as an escort. I was making ends meet when I met this wonderful client. He introduced me to a world of domination and teasing that I didn’t know existed, and after seeing him a few times and getting to know him, I moved in with him. He gained the dominant tease that he desired, and I gained a manservant and a confidant.

Once I moved in with him, I didn’t have as many bills to deal with, so the money I made escorting went further. I was able to put away some money and indulge myself a little more. He got pretty good at doing my nails for me, but I enjoyed going out to a nail salon every couple of months or so. I’m really not a clothes whore, but it was nice to pick out a few outfits for when we did go out to eat or to shop.

I was shopping in Frederick’s of Hollywood one day last spring. A couple of my regular clients like to see me wearing lingerie while we’re fucking, and Frederick’s has a great selection of crotchless panties and cupless bras. I was browsing the bras while my manservant stood nearby carrying a couple of store bags for me. I picked up a bright red cupless bra and was looking at the tag when I heard a female voice say, “That would look great on you.”

I looked up expecting to see one of the sales associates. Instead of seeing a nametag, I saw these huge round breasts. Breasts that practically shouted “Pay attention to me.” Blushing, I looked up into her bright round smiling face.

“Thank you,” I replied. “I think I’ll try it on.

I picked out a couple more bras and went into the dressing room. I tried them on, and when I came out of the booth to the mirror to see how the red bra looked, she stood next to me and smiled.

“That bra really looks good on you. It accentuates your cleavage.”

She put her hands on my shoulders, and I felt a little uncomfortable. I turned around to tell her off, but as soon as I looked into her deep brown eyes, I couldn’t say a word. I felt helpless as she grabbed my arms with her hands and held me. I had no idea what she wanted, and at the moment, I didn’t care.

After what seemed like a long, long time, she smiled and said, “I’m Casey. What’s your name?”

I looked at her, and I could not form words. I was so embarrassed as I stammered, “Uh, um, Jordan.”

Casey smiled at me. “Jordan. That’s such a pretty name for a pretty woman.”

I felt so helpless standing there. Casey kept her grip on my arms, and I felt so exposed to her in the cupless red bra. My stiff nipples were obvious, and I felt ashamed that she could so easily see her effect on me.

Casey let go of my arm, and cupped my chin with her hand. She turned my face towards hers, and moved to kiss me. I felt powerless as her lips touched mine, not once, but several times. I just stood there as she straightened up and let go of me. I didn’t know what to say or do.

Casey looked at me, smiled, and said, “I’m hungry. Would you care to have lunch with me in the food court?”

I nodded my head yes.

Casey rubbed her hand through my hair and smiled. “I’ll wait for you by the front door.” I watched as she walked out of the dressing room.

A couple of minutes passed before the shock wore off and I realized what had just happened. I felt like a zombie as I got dressed, paid for the bra and panty sets, and went out to the front of the store.

Casey smiled as we walked up to her. “Is this your husband?”

I was still in a daze. “No, this is my manservant.”

Casey’s mouth formed an O, and it was a moment before she could speak. “Nice. You’ll have to tell me all about your manservant while we have lunch.”

We followed Casey to the food court. She found a table and sat down. She took two $20’s from her purse and gave the money to my manservant. “Get a couple of chicken salads and Diet Cokes for us from the deli.”

After he went to stand in line, Casey turned to me and grinned. “A manservant! You are so lucky! How did you meet?”

By the time he returned with our salads, I had told Casey all about being an escort, meeting him as a client, and the sessions we had. He gave her the change, sat down and listened quietly while I told her about the dinners, the conversations we had about domination, teasing, and denial, my moving in with him, and the tasks I’ve taught him to do for me.

I was so excited to share my story with Casey that I hadn’t eaten much of my chicken salad. She noticed this and asked me, “Do you mind if I talk with your manservant while you eat?”

I smiled and answered, “No, go ahead.” I wondered what Casey would say as I munched on my salad.

Casey turned to the manservant and smiled. “What an interesting story. How long have you had a desire to be dominated?”

“Several casino siteleri years now, ever since my wife died.”

“Oh, did your wife dominate you?”

“No, she wasn’t interested in dominating me.”

“I see.” Casey took a sip of her Diet Coke. “Are you happy being Jordan’s manservant?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

“Pretty much. Is there something you’re not happy about?”

His face reddened. He looked down at the table as he answered, “I’m wearing a cock cage. I don’t always like having my orgasms controlled.”

Casey laughed. “Yes, I can understand that.” She turned to Jordan. “I think that controlling his orgasms is the smartest thing you did. I’m sure the reason he’s so attentive to you is that he looks forward to his once a week opportunity to orgasm.”

I took a bite of my salad as Casey turned back to my manservant. “It’s a good thing you’re not my manservant. I’m sure I would enjoy seeing just how long I could keep you cock locked up. I’d be tempted to never unlock you.”

My pussy quivered when I heard Casey’s words. I had no desire to be mean to my manservant, but it aroused me to hear another woman speak so casually and cruelly.

While I finished up my salad, Casey wrote her address and phone number on a piece of paper. I took it and put it in my purse. I wrote my address and phone number on the receipt from the deli and gave it to Casey.

I was getting up to leave when Casey asked, “Would you mind joining me outside for a cigarette?”

I never liked smoking outside the mall. Usually, I waited until I got home to smoke. Since I could smoke when I wanted to between clients, I always felt that huddling outside the doors of the mall to smoke was demeaning. However, the way I was feeling, Casey could have asked me to strip outside the mall, and I would have obeyed.

We went outside to the smoking area and lit our cigarettes. After Casey took a puff, she looked at my manservant and commanded, “Stand there and don’t move.”

He stood still holding the shopping bags while Casey blew cigarette smoke in his face. Laughing, I did the same thing. I could tell by the expression on his face that he wasn’t enjoying the smoke. The few times I did this to him at home, I was naked, and I guessed he wasn’t too pleased about Casey and I being dressed.

While we were smoking, another young woman came out the door and saw us. I laughed as she walked over to us and said, “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to do that. Can I join you?”

Casey shrugged her shoulders and answered, “Sure.”

The woman lit a cigarette, stood so her face was an inch away from his, and slowly exhaled in his face. We took turns blowing smoke in his face, and by the time we finished our cigarettes I could tell that he’d had his limit of cigarette smoke.

I spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the bed and daydreaming about Casey while my manservant cleaned the town house. I was in such a good mood that when he was done I gave him the key to his cock cage and told him to go downstairs and masturbate as much as he wanted. All I wanted was to be left alone with my thoughts and fantasies. I kept squeezing my breasts and thinking about her kissing me in the dressing room.

The next few days went by in a blur. I was fortunate in that I had a lot of clients coming to my hotel room. As long as I was concentrating on making my clients happy, I felt in control. In between clients, I found myself thinking about Casey and feeling out of control.

Casey called me Friday morning. We spoke on the phone for about an hour, and set up a date for the following Monday. I found out she worked as a dancer for the Gold Club, and that she worked the Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night shifts. She asked me why I hadn’t called her, and I was embarrassed to answer that I was afraid she was busy or wouldn’t want to talk to me. The last thing she asked me to do was to wear the cupless red bra and crotchless panties with a button-down blouse on our date.

The weekend flew by for me. All I could think of was my date with Casey. I’m sure my manservant was wondering why I was so distracted, but I didn’t care. It had been so long since I had these kinds of feelings for anyone, and I was going to enjoy them for as long as they lasted.

I met Casey at the mall. She kissed me and we went inside to buy tickets for “The Notorious Betty Page”. We went into the movie theatre, and found some seats towards the back. While the previews were showing, Casey leaned over and asked, “Do you trust me?’

I wondered what she had in mind, and nodded yes.

Casey smiled. After the lights dimmed, but before the movie started, she leaned over and said, “Keep your arms on the armrests, and don’t move them during the movie.”

I looked at her and nodded yes.

Just before the movie started, Casey reached over, unbuttoned my blouse, and pulled the front away from my chest. I felt very naughty with my nipples exposed in the movie theatre, but I was pretty sure no one could slot oyna see them in the darkness. Every so often, she would reach over and play with my nipples until they were stiff. I found it difficult to concentrate on the movie as I struggled to keep my arms on the armrests.

I felt embarrassed when the movie ended and the credits started rolling. I didn’t want to move my arms and disobey Casey, but I didn’t want to sit there exposed. The lights came back up and people stood up to leave. I was sure a couple of men saw my breasts as they left. I felt so exposed and helpless when Casey leaned over and nonchalantly whispered, “Oh, you can button your blouse now.”

I quickly bent over and hid behind the seat in front of me while I buttoned my blouse. When I straightened up again, Casey leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Are you wet?”

I nodded yes.

Casey took me by the hand and led me outside the mall. When we got outside, she asked, “Would you like to come to my apartment?”

I nodded yes. We walked to Casey’s car, and I could see it was a red Mazda Miata. I got in, and she drove me to where I parked my light blue Toyota Corolla. I got in my car and followed her to her apartment, about 10 minutes from the mall. She met me at my car and led me into her living room.

I sat down on the couch, and Casey poured a couple of glasses of red wine. I couldn’t see the labels from where I was sitting, and it really didn’t matter. She sat down next to me, took a sip of her wine, and asked, “Did you enjoy my playing with your nipples during the movie?”

I took a sip of wine before I answered. “I was fine when the theatre was dark, but I felt so exposed when the lights came up.”

Casey giggled. “I let you sit there for a while, to see how long you would sit there exposed for me.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I think you would have kept your arms on the armrests no matter how many people saw you. That makes me feel very special.”

Casey put her hand behind my head and pulled my lips into hers. This time I kissed back. Our tongues danced in our mouths, and I could feel my pussy getting very wet. I hoped I wasn’t making a mess of her sofa.

Casey took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom. I sat down on the bed and took off my pumps and thigh highs. I stood up again, and she unbuttoned my blouse and unhooked my skirt. Once I was in my bra and panties, she looked at me and commanded, “Undress me.”

Casey sat down on the bed. I knelt down on the floor, and took off her pumps and thigh highs. She stood up again, and I stood up, unbuttoned her blouse, and unhooked her bra. Her breasts looked like cantaloupes without the bra. I unhooked her ankle length skirt, and pulled her panties off. I couldn’t help but notice that her pussy was wet.

Casey lit a scented candle. The lavender scent relaxed me as she lay down on the bed, and patted the bed next to her. I laid down next to her, in her arm. She pulled me to her and we kissed again. My hand went to her pussy, and I gently rubbed her clit while we kissed. Her hand rubbed and squeezed my ass.

After a while I decided to slide down the bed. I positioned myself between her legs as she spread them wide. I licked up the wetness before I focused on her clit. I could tell by her breathing that I was doing what she wanted. She didn’t put her hand behind my head but let me explore her, let me eat her how I wanted to. It wasn’t too long before her body shuddered and convulsed with an explosive orgasm.

I laid down beside her and listened quietly to the rhythms of her breathing as she rested. Curiosity got the better of me, and I squeezed one of her breasts. I thought they might be enhanced, but I was amazed at how soft they felt. I had to squeeze her very hard before I felt the saline sack nearly in the base of her breast.

Casey winced a little after the hard squeeze. “Yes, I had them enhanced. Satisfied?”

I meekly looked at her and nodded yes.

Casey smiled. “Get up in a 69 position, and I’ll take care of you.”

I climbed on top of Casey, and lowered my pussy on her mouth. I was surprised at how gentle her tongue and lips felt against my clit. I’m sensitive down there and I guess I was expecting her to be as rough as a man. I relaxed and fingered her clit as her lips sucked on mine. It took a while, but I could feel the climax coming. I could feel my body explode as she gently licked my clit to an orgasm.

I tried to climb off but Casey held me in place on top of her. After resting for a bit her tongue probed around my clit and my pussy. She seemed to know how sensitive I was, and was very gentle. The second orgasm snuck up on me. Again, she held me in place and kept me on top of her until she licked me to a third orgasm.

As I slid down to lay beside Casey, I found myself wishing that I had proudly exposed myself to all those theatregoers. I was feeling so giddy after those orgasms that I would have done nearly anything she commanded. I lay there contented while canlı casino siteleri she rubbed my back with her hand.

We went to a restaurant for our second date. Casey had again requested that I wear the red cupless bra and crotchless panties, with a button-down blouse. I was nervous but decided if she wanted to expose my breasts in a restaurant, I would be proud for her.

Casey had other ideas. She had me sit next to her, and pull my skirt up to my waist so the only thing between the seat and my ass were the panties. I figured that the tablecloth would keep the other patrons from knowing what I did, but too late I realized that our waiter could see my skirt pulled up.

Casey ordered for the both of us. After the waiter left, she moved my legs apart with her hand, and moved her arm between my legs. She fingered my clit very nonchalantly until the waiter brought the salads.

I had trouble concentrating on the meal. Casey’s fingering made my clit throb, and sitting on the seat with my pussy exposed didn’t help me to calm down any. After we finished our salads, she resumed fingering my clit until the waiter brought the main course.

My clit throbbed throughout the meal. I was just beginning to calm down a little when Casey resumed her fingering. She asked the waiter for coffee, and kept fingering me after he brought the coffee. I was shaking putting the cream and sugar in her coffee for her. I could barely concentrate with her finger drawing circles around my clit. I tried to sit quietly and drink my coffee, but I just wanted her clit teasing to end.

Casey had other ideas. While she sipped her coffee and waited for the bill to be paid, she slowly rubbed her finger against my clit. I was about to scream in agony when she took her hand away and helped me get up. My legs felt so weak and rubbery that she had to help me walk out of the restaurant and into the car.

After she started the car, she turned and grinned at me. “Did you enjoy my attention?”

I looked at her and sighed contentedly. “Yes, I did. I thought you would drive me insane with all the teasing.”

Casey grinned. “Good. Pull up your skirt and unbutton your blouse. I want the whole world to see you as we drive back to my place.”

I hesitated for a moment before I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled up my skirt. I sat in the seat motionless as Casey’s fingers found their way to my nipples and my clit. I didn’t care if anyone saw me; all I cared about was how wonderful I felt. I understood why my manservant enjoyed my teasing him so much. I felt wonderful and excited and helpless all at the same time. I never would have guessed that I enjoyed being teased so much.

Casey helped me into her apartment and into her bedroom. I was already mostly undressed, so she pulled off my blouse, skirt, shoes, and knee-highs. I lay on the bed and watched her get undressed and crouch between my legs. She quickly and gently licked me to the most explosive orgasm I’d had in years. I cuddled in her arms a long time before I had the strength to get up and lick her to an orgasm.

After resting a bit, Casey and I talked about domination and teasing. It was obvious that she knew a lot about the subject, and she was happy that I enjoyed her teasing me so much. I suppose it had a lot to do with my feelings towards her, but I felt willing to do nearly anything she commanded me to do. She mentioned that I would probably not enjoy pain play because my clit was so sensitive, but it appeared that I enjoyed her teasing me. I snuggled up against her, and spent the night with her. I figured I deserved some time off for love.

The next few dates were similar. Casey found some discreet way to tease my nipples or my clit while we were out so that I couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment and have sex with her.

Casey filled my thoughts and fantasies. The only time I didn’t think about her was when I was entertaining a client. I sometimes had dreams of her whipping and beating me, which scared me a little until she explained that not all fantasies were meant to be acted out. Some fantasies would remain fantasies.

I wanted to move in with Casey, but I was scared to bring up the subject. We had a great relationship, and I didn’t want to risk losing her if she wasn’t interested in taking it any further. I was relieved when she brought the subject up one evening after sex. I was so excited that Casey felt the same way about me that I screamed with joy. The only complication was that I had a manservant. A manservant whose needs I had been ignoring for over three months.

Casey came over to our townhouse on her next day off. I decided to stay home and be there, even though this was really between Casey and my manservant. We sat down at the table, and he watched silently as I gave Casey the necklace with the key to his cock cage. She hooked it around her neck, and lit a cigarette.

Casey took a puff of her cigarette and exhaled slowly. She looked directly at her new gift slave, and spoke quietly. “Slave, Jordan just gave me the key to your cock cage. She just gave me control over you. Since you agreed to be her manservant, and not my slave, I’m going to give you a chance to decide for yourself whether or not you want to be my slave.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

(Author’s note: All of these stories are intended for a very specific audience—lesbians who’ve had problems with religious beliefs, and their overwhelming desire to love another woman. The mental and emotional stress they have been subjected to, while wholly unnecessary and erroneous, still takes its toll on those so afflicted.

These stories were meant to reach lesbians, thus though they have much religious text in them, they would most likely not be seen by most lesbians if placed in the Essay category. Beside that, they all are set as stories, thus placement in the Lesbian category. If you still wish to read them, please keep these items in mind.

All citations are accurate within the bibles (King James Version and New Revised Standard Version, plus some from The Catholic Bible) they are taken from, and you are welcome to verify all of it. In fact, I hope you do verify it all as it will lead you, if you need it, to the truth of the lies we are told, and an understanding of how those lies are affecting so many, and in so many ways. Also, the historical evidence is also known as accurate, and you are welcome to verify that as well. Sola Veritas! Thank you.)

(Reading note: All of these stories are about lesbians who have had problems—great or small—with religion in their church and/or religious family, as well as how religion was being used to shame lesbians with much believed lies. The stories are best understood, and make more sense if read in sequence of submission, which is: The Devil’s Gateway, parts 1 and 2; Fortune’s Wiles, parts 1 and 2; Liv’s Legacy: Anise; Liv’s Legacy: Paula, part 1 and 2. Thank you.)

Chapter 1

I was crazy about her. It was the first time I saw her, and she made me tingle all over, and had my pussy raging and about to soak my panties.

“Who’s that gorgeous red head?” I asked May.

“The one with the soft curls?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Erin. Erin O’Dea. Hell of a set she’d got, huh? The bitch is a tease though. Everyone wants some of that, but nobody knows anyone that’s had her, at least not yet. She always leaves alone as far as anyone knows.”

“Nobody, huh?”

“Uh-uh. Nobody—yet!”

Soft curls on a teasing bitch, huh? She was everything I wanted from what my heart and pussy were telling me, not to mention my eyes. Lord, she was fantastic. To go with her soft curls, she had shorts that were pretty form fitting. When she danced, and spun around, I could see that they cupped her ass showing it was perfectly round, molding her as if in invitation, and every bit as sassy as she was. If that’s all that there was about her, it wouldn’t be so bad—just excruciatingly terrible for me and my aching pussy.

Oh, lord, she was something.

“Can’t quit looking, can you, Jen?” May asked, grinning.

“Can anybody?”

“Not that I know of, at least not anybody alive, that is. Like I said, everyone wants some of that pussy.”

That made me feel good. Maybe I would have a chance somewhere along the line. As I thought, I was staring at her thighs, noticing her musculature and tone, not to mention skin color like I had never seen. Legs were my thing, that was for sure, but she definitely had much more to go with her fabulous legs.

Yeah, she had everything, but it was her thighs that were like Circe’s sirens to me. Have you ever seen a woman with thighs that did nothing but glue your eyes to them? Maybe it was the dancer in me that appreciated her legs so much. And speaking of dancing, she could dance. I liked that; it made her thighs show up more, made her even sexier. Dream stuff for sure.

“Hey, your tongue is on the table,” May cackled.
I smiled, and came back to earth, to my drink, and wondered… One never knew.

I had stayed with May for the first two weeks I was in town until I found my own place. She was a good friend of my cousin, Amy, who knew I was a lesbian. Amy talked to May, and she let me crash with her. It was a good thing for me since May turned out to be a good friend, and no, we didn’t get it on with each other though she was a lesbian too.

May is good looking, kind of delicious, I guess, but the chemistry wasn’t there for either of us. A hug and kiss hello and goodbye was good for us, or even a spontaneous hug every now and then, but that was it.

“Well, she seems to have a good circle of friends,” I noticed.

“That she has. Always! If not for that, I’d of tried to get a dance with her, but she seems quite content and always has a full dance card, if you know what I mean.”

That was true; she was very active on the dance floor, and May was right, she seemed content, and never did seem to mind, or maybe it was not noticing, all the lust in her friend’s eyes. She was all fun and dance.

“Girl, you either need to dance or get the hell out of here before people start to think you peed in your panties.”

I turned sharply to see May grinning up a storm. “That bad?”

“Uh-huh, that bad. Come on, babe,” she said, getting up.

We went to the dance floor, and soon I forgot my lust casino oyna for the red headed Erin. There’s something about dancing that can make you to feel like you’re either lost, or you found where you belong. The dance floor was like that for me.

“Holy fuck, you sure as shit can dance,” May said, admiring my moves.

I smiled. Dancing, for me, was my perfect match; we were made for each other. We danced several dances, and when we were done, a few of the gals applauded. I had no idea anyone was watching.

“We dance anymore and you’ll have a lot of friends. Where’d you learn to dance, girl?”

“I used to dance some; took lessons before I was a teen.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, girl,” May said, a little awed.

“Anyway, it makes you thirsty, huh?”

“Yeah. Me too.”

May got us another round, and I went back to my drooling over my red headed dream girl.

Later, we had a few more dances, and sure enough, a few of the others stopped by to express their appreciation for me, and to let me know they’d like to have one if I felt like it. I danced away feeling my joy in it.

* * * *

“What the fuck, I take a new friend out to dance, and now everyone wants to be her friend,” May kidded with me. “Wanna come in for a drink, or spend the night?”

There was no hint of anything in her voice, so it was fine with me.

“That might be okay if you don’t have anything to do,” I said.

“Naw, not a thing. Big loaf day tomorrow. Just me and the laundry, and a few other things I hate just as much,” she laughed.

May’s house was nice. It had three bedrooms, but she used one for a computer room. When I stayed with her, I sometimes used the spare room, and other times we talked ourselves to sleep in her bed, but that was it. We were like teenage friends, gossiping, laughing some, and talking about everything that suddenly came to mind.

May was interesting. She was an actuary for a mid-sized insurance firm, wrote erotica on the sly, loved thinking about her life—everybody’s life—and she was looking for a permanent lover. Maybe that’s why she never made a move on me, but that was fine with me. I never felt any chemistry with her other than that of a good friend, and those are hard to come by, thus I didn’t want to ruin it for us.

Me? What did I want—besides the red head? I noticed I didn’t want to say her name in my mind. Maybe I didn’t want to personalize her, and wind up obsessed with her, though that would be a fine obsession. Then again, maybe not. Obsessing wasn’t good.

We had a drink, talked about whatever, then we took a shower—separately—and May tossed me a pair of PJ’s, and we hit the sack gabbing away. As a friend, I loved May, and it seemed that May felt similarly about me.

* * * *

May and I went to the club on successive Friday nights—The CACTI Club. When I asked why it was named The CACTI Club, May grinned up a storm.

“You’re gonna love this: It’s Catch A Cunt Tonight, Inc., the Inc Mary, the owner, says is so she can’t be blamed if it don’t work out,” she cackled. How could one not cackle at that? I know I did, and raucously, ridiculous a name that it was, though maybe not so ridiculous.

We kept going to the club—there was no way I could resist going, what with that package of complete joy being there for me to watch and dream of. Maybe some thought of May and I as a twosome, an item, but no one said so, and that didn’t stop anyone from wanting to dance with me. I noticed the red head’s dance card stayed full too.

The last time we went to the club, and May and I were on the floor, the red head danced nearby to us. Soon a lot of the other dancers gathered around the four of us, and started clapping and whopping and hollering. We turned it up some and even took time to smile at each other once, but just that once. We were both too into the dancing, in feeling the eroticism it can bring, but leaving you feeling good when you stopped.

Was dancing somehow a natural substitute for sex? I’d never thought of it that way.

“Jesus, that was some show you and your fantasy gal put on,” May said.

“Some show we all put on,” I corrected her.

“Bull! The two of you ought to get together, but if you do, you better be careful,” she said as if seriously.

“Why?” I had to ask.

“Fuck, are you kidding? Those others will kill you for taking away their chance of getting at her. Envy runs high for puss like that—and you’re not bad either, you know.”

“Rope, or tar-and-feathers?” I grinned.

“Rope for you, and maybe tar-and-feathers for her from those who are favoring you now,” she returned my grin.

“You’re good for a person’s ego—and you’re so full of it, too,” I laughed. May did too.

The next Friday, after a couple of more dances, we both showed off for each other as we did that first time, and I was feeling good about my chances with her some day. This was her club though—she was here long before I came in—so I was leaving it up to her to make the move. What I was doing was sizing things slot oyna up, being cagy, not letting her think I couldn’t see straight where she was concerned. I didn’t want her thinking me easy though May thought otherwise.

My mind kept wondering, trying to plot things out, but it always came back to her never seeming to have a lover, much less a partner.

Chapter 2

“Boy, when you two get together—and I got a feeling that’s going to happen—I’d like to have a front row seat, and not just on the dance floor.”

I laughed. “Well, it better start happening pretty soon or I won’t have a mind to do anything with.”

“She’s driving you crazy, huh?” May said as we laid in her bed quietly talking.

“If I make any more errors at work, I may find my ass on the street with no job,” I cackled.

“Mm-mm, like I said, I’d love to be the fly on the wall,” I heard the wicked smile in her voice.

* * * *

The next weekend, while we were sitting and drinking, May suddenly had a problem. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” I asked, worried she was sick, or something.

“Uh, I gotta go,” she said, and left me in a rush.

I watched her make a beeline for a girl who was more than interesting, somewhat olive skinned, maybe from the Mediterranean area. A fairly large butch started for her too. I know she was because when May got there, the butch stopped, then turned around and went back. The girl May rushed to was sweet looking, too. It looked as if May was making contact pretty good, and sure enough, they started dancing. Then they danced some more. I couldn’t help but grin. May’s pussy must have screamed at her, and threatened to bite her if she didn’t at least try to make it with whoever she was.

They both looked happy.

“Jen, this is Naz,” May said when they both came to the table.

“Hello, Jen,” Naz said, and quickly bent to hug and kiss my cheek.

I did the same, getting partially up out of my chair. “Naz. That’s an interesting name,” I couldn’t help but say.

“It’s Mahnaz, Persian for glory of the moon or something like that,” she said. “My mother is Iranian, and liked that name.”

“I love it. Fits you, if you ask me,” I said.

May gave me a look. “Thank you,” Naz said.

“You’re welcome. Are you joining us for a while? Or are you taking May away?” I grinned.

“No, I won’t take her away, and yes, I’d love to join you both.”

“You two looked beautiful out there dancing,” I ventured to mend my faux pas.

“Thank you. I enjoyed dancing with May. Maybe she’ll ask me again,” she gave May the eye that said she hoped May would—or maybe that May better.

“You bet, hon, right after we have a drink,” May
said, waving at the waitress.

They danced some more, then sat down for a while. It wasn’t long before Naz gave May a start.

“Would you dance with me?” she asked, looking at me, then we both looked at May, but for different reasons.

“I’ll be here,” she said, but a bit uncertainly.

I wasn’t too sure either, but we went out to the dance floor, and got to it. Then Naz got to it.

“Is it okay for me to be dancing with May?” she asked, herself uncertain and wondering.

Now I knew what it was about. She must have wondered if we were together, and didn’t want to step on my toes. I loved her for that.

“I love May to pieces, but as a friend, and a better friend you won’t find, so no problem,” I told her.

“Wow! Thanks. I kinda wondered if you two were, uh…”

“No,” I cut her off, “we’re not together in any way,” I smiled my best smile for her.

“Thank you. I was worried I might be going where I shouldn’t,” she said, nothing but concern for propriety in her tone.
When the dance ended, we returned to our table, and as we did, Naz kissed May’s cheek, and sat next to her where she had been.

May and Naz danced some more, then we broke up.

And so it was that I lost May for the night. I was glad I had my car because May left with Naz, and I couldn’t blame her. Naz was more than lovely.

* * * *

This was new, but I liked it okay. May and Naz decided they liked each other for another go-around. I met them at the club for their St. Patrick’s Day celebration, and green beer for a quarter a mug. There was a lot of beer being drunk—I couldn’t see anyone without a mug of the green in their hand or in front of them. As expected, May and Naz danced together almost exclusively. I did get invited to dance once by each of them. It was a good thing others took pity on me.

At one point, as the music went on, and many were dancing, someone stood and shouted “Long live Ireland,” with a lot of others merrily joining in. Then one of the girls in that group stood up with a mug in her hand and shouted “Erin go braug.”

Then most everyone who wasn’t dancing was standing and shouting it, their mugs held high in celebration. After about three chants, the words seemed to change, and everyone was looking towards where my red head was dancing. Paying closer attention, and listening canlı casino siteleri to May and Naz, I realized that the shout had morphed from “Erin go braugh,” into “Erin no bra.” ‘Erin no bra?’

They were all chanting for my fantasy girl to take her bra off? Yes they were, and pretty demandingly too. Everyone loved, and always stared at, Erin’s tits since she filled her tops out superbly. The chant kept up as if a contest, but there were no sides, just a wanting for Erin to take off her bra. She was slightly embarrassed and grinning, and shaking her head no, but the chant kept getting louder and stronger.

Finally, with a lot of exhortations from her friends close by, she looked like she might do just that..Then it did happen, or started to happen, and a large cheer went up, and continued.

Erin lifted the bottom of her tee top to reveal a front closure, strapless bra, and unhooked it, and without revealing any of her breasts, she pulled it off, and waved it, and blushed so that her face looked like her hair. Then another chant went up.

“Dance! Dance! Dance!” when the music of an Irish jig began. I have no idea what the name of it is, but it’s the one I always think of when I think of an Irish jig.

Erin’s breasts looked as if they still had a bra holding them up, but as she graced everyone with a jig, her tits bounced more than they usually might have. More, it excited her to where her nipples puckered out and teased us all. And the only thing I could do was to appreciate the show, and let my pussy bitch all that it wanted to, but I wasn’t about to pay it any attention while watching Erin dance and her tits bounce so saucy and naughty.

When it was over, the deafening applause for Erin was well deserved.

“That is some gal,” Naz said. “You two would be great as a dance couple,” she said, looking right at me. May nearly choked on her drink.

“Yeah, I agree,” May said after she’d recovered. All I could do was to look at May, and smile.

Besides dancing with some of the other girls, I did some dreaming of my red head, and wondered if I’d ever get a chance. We looked at each other a couple of times as we danced, but that was it. I still held that I was the newbie, and if she wanted to dance with me, she should do the asking. Was I being bull-headed and stupid? I had to admit I probably was, but I didn’t dwell on that thought.

Whatever, I found a pretty good dancer, and I turned it up.

“Damn, girl, you’re making me look bad,” she grinned.

“Never. You’re too good, and make me want to dance more,” I let her know truthfully, or mostly so. What I was after more than anything was piquing my red head’s interest. I did catch her looking out of the corner of my eye.

“You’re Jen, right?”

“Yes. You?”

“Miranda.”

“You are good, Miranda, and you do make me want to dance more.”

“I’ll take that as gospel and let myself feel good about it. If you ever get your eyes off of Erin, let me know,” she winked at me.

Good grief, was I that obvious to everyone? I had no idea of what to say.

“Shut your mouth, girl, you’re letting all the flies in,” the hateful thing said with too big a grin.

When it was over, I made my lonesome trek home, May going wherever she and Naz went.

* * * *

Getting up at eight, I put some coffee on, and waited for it to brew. As I waited, the doorbell chimed. Looking through the peephole, I saw it was May.

“Hi. What’s got you out so early?” I said as I hugged and kissed her cheek.

“Jeez, hon, I gotta talk. Is the coffee ready?”

“Yeah, come on in and have a cup,” I led her to my kitchen, as if the coffee smell wouldn’t do that on its own. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m in love, babe.”

“That’s a problem?”

“For me, I guess it is. Shit, I feel worse than a teenager. I’m so fuckin nervous it’s pitiful. Hell, I am pitiful!” she said, her arms flung out, and her face making sure I understood her.

“You look okay to me. Why do you think you’ve got a problem, and why does it make you nervous?”

“If Erin was suddenly in your lap, how would you feel?”

Ouch! Uh, like May said, I supposed. Now I thought I might be understanding. So what was it that I was supposed to do?

“Why do you bring that up so early in the morning? Don’t you have any pity on me? Are you becoming a bitch just because you either got laid, or are gonna get laid?” I said, letting her know I that had no idea what to tell her.

“Shit! A fine friend you turned out to be,” she bitched at me. I grinned, and she did too. “Seriously, I’m out of it.”

“Enjoy it,” I said wryly, but then smiled. “I’m glad for you, May. I take it that it’s mutual.”

“Yeah, I think so. I hope so,” she added.

“Me too. I like her. She’s got class to go with her looks, and she dances good too. Can’t get any better than that if she likes you in bed too.”

“She said the same about you—that you had class, and that you can dance,” she made sure to clarify.

“So there, it’s settled then, huh?” I couldn’t help but laugh. May laughed with me.

“Yeah, it’s settled. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever fallen for anyone so damned fast.”

“Uh, if I remember correctly, it happened when you saw her, right?” I had to tease her.

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Now I know what it is to be entangled. It means to be tangled up in your own frustrated desire: a sad joy. Not bittersweet, two emotions dissolving into each other, but two emotions entangled: both whole and solid. I was in a seven-year relationship with a man at the time. I could neither admit nor seek sexual fulfillment.

When I met Lucia I met someone entirely new. She completely amazed and astounded me. She told me how impressed she was with my accomplishments when I thought they were nothing. She told me I was beautiful, she hugged me every chance she got. I knew it was just her: the way she is with her friends. She says such intimate things to everyone. She stands that close to everyone. She whispers so close to her friend’s ears. I never met a person who was in such intimacy with the world.

I wanted my heart to wake up like her’s, my mind to stretch like her’s, my bitterness to dissolve. I wanted wonder at her age, even again at mine. But still, the magic falls a little short of that. She makes me sort of uncomfortable sometimes, when she says such intense things to me. Especially when her husband is right there. Or if she whispers in my ear, and can he see me panic? Can he see that I am afraid he’ll think something of it, when I don’t act that way with people?

“My husband is going out of town,” she says. “I’ll be lonely. Come on over if you can.” She never makes me feel like our age difference makes her opinions superior. She carries 50 like it’s the status quo; her short salt and pepper hair like it’s the latest fashion. She’s standing two inches away from me, smiling to make it warm the way she always does. It’s a lie. She’ll never be lonely: not someone like her, drawing everyone closer, making us all feel like the only person in her world. I know what she means: a movie, a discussion, maybe some wine.

Definitely not, “come over and do all those things you want to me. All those things you know my husband is good enough to do, but you want to anyway.”

“I will.” I know I will make time for her, anytime. Just to feel her touch my hand is more intimacy than I’ve ever had with anyone. How can I miss that chance?

She greets me with that same warm smile. I know hospitality is something in her bones. Her apartment is so warm it feels like someone’s home and not just a place to stay. Everything is so clean and polished, all the colors and shapes in sync, like she had a decorator come in, when I know it was probably just her sense that everything fits together, if you know how to make it. I used to think that maybe a sense like that would come with age—she does have almost 30 years on me—but now I realize it’s just her.

“Sit down.” How can she make an offer sound like a command? She’s in charge of lots of things: always taking control so easily.

I sit on the couch and she follows, so close to me our thighs are touching: her’s bare under that short, tight black skirt. Mine covered in thick jeans that I now regret. She could have chosen the chair right next to the couch—could have sat away from me—but she chooses to sit right amsterdam shemale up against me. She takes my hand in hers. I know that if I don’t look at her, force myself to look serious, she’ll know how I feel, but if I look in her eyes too hard she’ll know how I feel there too. I have to work so hard not to reveal my feelings, so I’m lucky she seems so oblivious. “So, you want to know about Portugal.” She knows I do, though I didn’t exactly say that in my emails. I can’t get away from it.

“If you are comfortable talking about it.” As she begins to recount the tales of her childhood in another country, she moves her hand from mine. She places it on my thigh, and the other on my shoulder.

She’s talking into me now. I’m used to it with her: she burns her words into people.

“You’re new to me,” I say. “A person like you is new to me: so free, so open, so alive. You’re not of my world.”

She blushes. Why is she so humble when she’s so much of the way, the truth and the light? She burns so brightly—the sparks of God were never brighter than when lit by the spark of her soul. I know that if I really knew her I’d be embers, but I am her scorched moth: hoping she will revive me so that I can burn again. And I should run, but I can’t. Her very friendship is too much. I should not be on the same continent.

I chalk her close talking; close standing up to being from a Latin culture. That is, until she’s rested her tiny body on top of my lap. Her movements were so slow. She’s a swan. Every moment closer so graceful, as if it were something she’d always done. Sit next to me; put her hands on me, climb on top of me: just lift her legs an swing her body forward as if I were an old chair. Her fiery amber-chestnut eyes never moved from mine.

“Uh, Lucia?”

“Yes?” Her tone reveals nothing. Her thin lips are some how closer to mine than they were 30 seconds ago.

“I can’t help but notice that you’re straddling my lap…and…uh…why?”

“Because I want to…and you want me to.” The truth sounds like a curse and a blessing falling from her mouth. She knows my truth, speaks it and imprisons me. Her right hand is on my shoulder, creeping down my low cut top, and over my plump breasts, threatening to find my swollen pink nipples, which stretch the fabric that covers them.

Her left is idly stroking my neck until she manages to get me to arch it.

“No I don’t.” I answer. Another of my truths. One she didn’t count on. “I don’t because you’re married…and if we start, if I put my hands on you, I swear it, Lucia. I swear to God I won’t be able to stop.”

My hands are clasped tightly at my sides; knuckles white, nails digging sharply into my flesh, and I can walk away.

She needs to get up and I can walk away from her.

She’s the first person I can see myself giving everything to, the first I can see myself making love to. But I can still walk away.

She brings her lips to my ear, brushing so lightly against it: “my husband said he’s fine with it.”

I close my eyes. I’m holding on by a thread. “Are you rotterdam shemale sure you want to?”

Her tongue runs up my exposed neck. “Yes.”

Half way through her answer my lips furiously seek hers. My hands are under her firm, round ass, pulling her to me. I don’t kiss her as hard as I want to. I caress her tongue, dance with her. My hands unbutton her blouse, sweeping over her petite and perky breasts. Her taut nipples strain so hard against it. I can tell she is wearing a bra by the way her flesh felt under the fabric. I lift it over her flat stomach, taking my time to graze every inch of smooth, caramel flesh. She helps by lifting her arms, taking the uplifted shirt from me and throwing it somewhere to the right.

She used the strings of my heart and tied me fast. Then she lit the ends of the strings—bbecause I begged her to—and soon the flames will devour me.

We kiss and nibble on every inch of skin we can reach, until I’ve had enough and tilt her back so I can lick her breasts from underneath to the aureole and, pinch her nipples before I take them gently in my mouth.

She moans so guttural; from way down inside—practically purrs—and it’s ecstasy.

“Fuck me,” she commands and begs, her arousal coursing through her words. “I want you to fuck me really hard.” I didn’t know her voice could get so deep. It almost sounds masculine to her otherwise gentle feminine tone. I don’t have to answer her. She knows I will do anything for her. I just stare in her eyes and she knows it’s confirmation.

She has to stand up so I can unzip her tight skirt and pull her panties down over her slim, smooth legs. I do so with fever; and with even more fever I shove three of my fingers as far inside of her as they will go. This elicits a very loud moan, followed by equally primal ones as I circle her clit with my thumb, and pull my fingers towards me, my mouth finding every inch it can: licking and sucking her neck, her ears, her breasts, everywhere I can think of. And she’s not holding back from acknowledging the pleasure. She has not one ounce of self-consciousness to restrain her.

I bite her neck to release some of the tension brought on by such a strong desire. She seems to rather enjoy the biting, as she moans and presses tighter against me. She’s so fucking wet and hot it’s amazing! Her warm, tight cunt is soaking my fingers. I tell her so: tell her how good she feels.

My other hand’s on the back of her neck, so when I come up I can bring her mouth to mine faster. I fuck her deep and hard per her ques, pulling most of the way out before slamming back it as hard as I can without becoming afraid to hurt her.

She’s fucking my fingers too, moving her hips like they’re on fire. Her gorgeous naked body is dancing on my lap. I’m panting and moaning like crazy, like her: it’s too much, all this heat, all this need I’ve kept back from myself. I release my denial, all of it, on her.

“Oh God” I say in a voice I don’t recognize, completely lost in it, “Oh God, oh God.” Let it go—let it all go—everything that made it seem holy blog shemale to lie to myself. Break it down. Wake up the person who knows and does what’s right, instead of lying to herself and denying herself wholeness. Wake up that person who takes what she wants so gently you’ll left thankful that she did.

“More!” Blaring her fiery eyes into my own. I give her another finger and fuck her harder. Every time she moans there’s another dam bursting in my cunt. My clit’s so full of blood it hurts like needles shooting through it.

My thumb plays with her clit, tapping it, barely touching it then coming closer. My fingers burn from the fire in her perfect cunt. The ridges inside of her are making my own cunt pulsate. Finally I can’t take anymore. I need to hear and feel her cum. I stop teasing her clit, lift the hood a little and circle it gently but firmly for a few minutes, and she lays her head on my shoulder, and purrs a defeated “oh God” herself just before she cums.

I slowly remove my fingers from her pussy and she moans at the loss. “It’s ok sweetheart,” I whisper, “I’m not done. It’s just time to move to the bedroom.”

She doesn’t say anything, she’s still coming down: panting more and more shallowly. I lift her up and take her to her bedroom just a few feet away. I lay her head on the softest pillow and look at her all laid out. Her creamy skin calls to me, as do her full yet small breasts and her silken thighs.

I crawl between her legs and lick her inner thighs. She moans in approval. She wants to take my hand but after I fuck her with my tongue it’s going back in her cunt, so I deny her this. I put off taking her clit in my mouth for as long as I can stand, preferring to tease as long as possible without completely frustrating her. The vanilla scent of her pussy is overwhelming: grabbing me, pulling me towards goodness, light and truth.

My tongue flicks lightly across her clit, her inner labia, and the bottom of her vagina. Then I move to lightly bite her thighs again. “Please…” she begs in a low voice. “Please…”

“Shh. I promise I will.” Then it’s back to flicking my tongue around everywhere but her clit, then it’s in her vagina as far as I can get it, fucking her for a moment. She tastes so fucking good I can almost cum from that alone.

And finally I take her clit in my mouth and lick rapidly around it, up and down and side to side and in circles, bringing my fingers back to fuck her hard while I focus my tongue on her clit: a little pressure, a lot, a very, very light flicker across, a vacuum of my mouth and my tongue lightly licking, over and over until the tension builds up so much her body is stretched to the limit, knuckles white, head moving side to side like she can barely take anymore. I lick her straight through that long orgasm—her shaking and her screaming orgasm—and onto and through the next.

She commands me to strip and lay on the bed with her. “I need to taste you.”

She crawls on top of me, her head in my cunt, bringing her cunt down over my lips. Her tongue can dance like her hips. “When can your husband go out of town next?” I eagerly ask.

Just then there’s the sound of the key in the door. She jumped so fast I knew something was wrong. “Everyone has shackles,” she says, quickly. “Now get out of here before my husband sees you!”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

When Jake first realised he was attracted to his mother, he had no idea that his lust would take such an unexpected turn, leading him down roads he never would have imagined in his wildest dreams. Jake was eighteen, and had just finished high school when he started planning to seduce his beautiful, 42 year old mother. Just the thought of sucking on Lucy’s big, delicious breasts was enough to make Jake’s uncut 7-inch cock stand up straight and start oozing with pre-cum. Following the advice of the most cliched incest porn movies and questionable forum members, Jake decided the best seduction method available to him was to help out his mother around the house – doing the dishes, mowing the lawn, keeping his room tidy, and so on – as well as becoming more affectionate – stretching out quick pecks on the cheek, hugging her more frequently, and complimenting her more and more. Of course, the major obstacle standing in Jake’s way was his father, Roger.

In fact, one particularly unfortunate reminder of his father’s existence came early one morning, when Jake awoke to the sound of his parents’ shower running. In a state of pure teenage horniness, Jake snuck into his parents’ room, where he inched the bathroom door open, hoping to spy on his mother as she showered, ideally catching her in a rare moment of masturbation. Instead of his mother, however, Jake only managed to find his father masturbating. Quite hard, actually. Like watching a train crash, Jake wanted to look away, but he simply couldn’t. Instead, his gaze remained cruelly locked on his father’s rock hard cock as Roger came into his hand and eagerly swallowed his own cum, moaning with delight at the taste. Needless to say, Jake never tried spying in on his mother in the shower again.

Despite that one setback in his mother seduction plan, Jake believed he was doing pretty well; Lucy was giggling at all his compliments and seemed genuinely pleased that he was insisting on cleaning the dishes after every meal. One Saturday, after taking his, Roger’s and Lucy’s plates to the sink after lunch, Jake felt a pair of warm hands gently touch his hips. With a perfectly rehearsed devilish grin, Jake eagerly turned to face the owner of the hands. The smile disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared when he stood face-to-face with Roger.

Apparently, Lucy had left the kitchen to go upstairs and get ready for her weekly catch up with her girlfriends. Roger had then taken one of the rare opportunities to speak to Jake without fear of Lucy overhearing. Afraid that Jake would run as soon as he saw his face, Roger tried to stop his escape by firmly placing his hands on his son’s chest as he spoke. “I know what you’re doing, Jake, and it’ll never work on her.”

Jake struggled to meet his father’s intense brown eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m just trying to help out around the house, that’s all.”

“Trust me, son, this plan will never work on her.” Roger felt his hands pressing harder into his son’s chest, and couldn’t help but marvel at his son’s muscle-hard chest. Apparently all that yard work was helping his previously scrawny son’s physique. He stepped even closer to Jake; mere inches separated their bodies. Jake could feel and almost taste each syllable his father spoke. “I’m doing you both a favour here, Jake. It’s been months since I’ve gotten anywhere with her, and I’m her goddamn husband. There’s no way she’ll fuck her son if she won’t even touch me.”

Jake couldn’t believe he’d been so damn obvious that even Roger, who he thought as pretty thick when it came to matters of the heart, had picked up on the signals he put out to his mother. He was still struggling to comprehend this when he heard his own voice asking Roger, “So you’re saying I should just give up?”

“On her, yes.” Jake felt a sudden warmth radiating from his father’s… No, surely that couldn’t be right. Jake’s face suddenly felt incredibly warm, not just because his father was standing less than 2 inches away from him. Mostly, it was the fact that he’d been found out lusting after a family member.

“What do you mean, ‘on her’?”

“Give up on your mother, but don’t give up on fucking one of your parents.” Yep, that was definitely a fair amount of warmth coming from his father’s crotch. And yep, that most definitely meant Roger had a hard on, and was now hitting on his own son. Just to make himself extra clear, Roger pressed his crotch firmly into Jake’s and allowed a brief sigh of pleasure to escape his lips. Before this moment, Jake had no idea Roger was bisexual; if you’d asked him, Jake would have told you he assumed his father was “more than slightly homophobic”, but not outspoken about it. And now, here he was, crotch-to-crotch with his father’s hard, throbbing erection.

Things had definitely taken an unexpected turn, and Jake was never one to deal well with a change of plan at the best of times. So he did the only thing he could think of: Ran. He pushed his dad aside and sprinted up the stairs to his room, locking amsterdam shemale the door after him. Jake never found out what his father did the afternoon after his bold proposition was declined in the least subtle way imaginable.

Late that night, Jake couldn’t sleep. He lay awake in his bed, having trouble pinpointing exactly why he fled from his father’s offer. It wasn’t that he was turned off by the thought of incest; that much was obvious to anyone who saw him trying to seduce his mother for the last few months. It wasn’t that he was a homophobe; Jake had a couple of gay friends that he considered amongst his closest. It wasn’t that Roger was unattractive; objectively, Jake could see why his few girlfriends had undeniable crushes on his father. It wasn’t that he was stupid enough to think of himself as 100% straight; Jake had read enough about sex in his leisure time to know that sexuality is a spectrum, and everyone’s closer to the middle than they care to admit. It wasn’t that he was a virgin; he’d already lost his virginity to Samantha, the girl who dumped him a week after they graduated high school. Apart from the fact that Jake had never been with a guy before, Jake couldn’t figure out why he had turned his father down, and that worried him. Hell, when he thought about it, it almost seemed like there were more positives than negatives to the proposition.

Think about it… Women, Jake thought, are pretty irrational at the best of times. And now that Lucy was closer to menopause than her sexual prime, that was only going to get worse. Plus, men are a lot hornier than women, so that meant he’d get laid more often. And besides, Roger already knew Jake, so there’s that awkward “getting to know you” section done away with, if Jake ever did want to try dating a guy. And oh God, the feeling of his father’s hard cock pressing through his jeans. The feeling of his hot breath as he told Jake “don’t give up on fucking one of your parents.” The mental image of Roger’s lips has he spoke those words would forever be burned into Jake’s mind. Remembering Roger’s firm hands on his chest, keeping him in place, Jake pressed his left hand down on his bed as his right crept down, slipped underneath the waistband of his boxers and started stroking his hard cock. Slowly at first, while his father’s proposition danced around in his head. Quickening as he remembered the sight of Roger beating his huge, cock and swallowing his own cum in the shower. Finally spraying cum up to his nipples and progressively down his torso as he imagined his father stretching Jake’s tight virgin asshole someday soon.

If you had seen them over the following week, you would never have known that Roger had propositioned his son for an incestuous affair, and that Jake had bolted in the blink of an eye. Lucy sure as hell didn’t know. The pair carried on just as they always had – cordially, but not overly affectionate. You know, the way virtually all dads are with their teenage boys. But behind this facade of normalcy, Jake was doing his research. He’d be up late into the night, either on his laptop or on his phone looking up father-son incest videos, masturbating and fantasising. Roger, however, tried his best to put his embarrassing rejection out of his mind, and focused on being the best husband and father he could be. And then, the day came when they were alone in the house again. Roger closed the front door after he’d had just finished waving goodbye to Lucy as she went to visit a work colleague who’d just had a baby. No sooner had he locked the door when he heard Jake’s footsteps approaching from the lounge room. Jake looked into Roger’s deep brown eyes and only needed to say one word.

“Okay.”

Father and son stepped confidently towards each other, their open lips met, their bodies pressed into each other firmly, and their arms didn’t dare let the other escape the passionate embrace. Neither had kissed a man before, and both men were eager to make up for lost time. Their soft moans filled the empty house’s foyer. Tongues flicked and licked in and out of open mouths. Hands caressed and explored each other’s hard back. Cocks soon became rock hard, leaking with pre-cum, and began rubbing against each other through straining denim. Jake and Roger stood there, intensely making out and overwhelmed with incestuous lust, for an age before Roger’s hands found their way to Jake’s hips and pushed the pair apart. As they stood apart for the first time, breathless and more turned on than ever, Roger’s hands reached for Jake’s jeans and, despite the lust-and-nervous trembling, easily unbuttoned and unzipped his son’s Levi’s. He slipped his right hand into his son’s silky satin boxer shorts and wrapped his slightly rough, calloused hand around the warmest, hottest piece of flesh he’d ever had the pleasure of touching. Jake would later say he almost came the instant his father touched his cock for the first time. Despite the extreme excitement his cock felt, Jake managed to hold off as his father started slowly rotterdam shemale pulling up and down on his cock, using the significant amount of pre-cum as a natural lubricant.

“Mmmmmmmfuuuck…” Jake moaned. Nobody’s hand had ever felt so good, not even Samantha’s. “Oh Dad…”

Roger stepped in close to his son again, granting their lips the reunion they’d been aching for these last few moments. This kiss was softer, more passionate and loving than the preceding one.But no less amazing. The pair moaned in unison while Roger kept jerking his son’s beautiful cock. Almost as a way of saying thanks, Jake took his father’s bottom lip between his own, and sucked it gently into his mouth, where his tongue slid back and forth against his father’s lip. Roger demonstrated his appreciation by moaning loudly and quickening his strokes.

Jake knew he was virtually at the point of no return, that any second now and he’d be shooting cum all over his father, whether they liked it or not. Wisely choosing to prolong the experience, Jake (reluctantly, but firmly) grabbed his father’s wrist and removed it from his cock. Before Roger could ask if everything was okay, Jake was on his knees, his now-trembling hands unbuckling his father’s belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his father’s trousers, sliding his father’s briefs down his strong legs. Even though he’d caught a glimpse of it in the shower that time, and even though he’d felt its hardness pressing into his body, Jake hadn’t fully comprehended his father’s size. Now, mere centimetres away from his eyes, Jake could see every vein, every hair, every square inch of his father’s cock – the cock that made him, the cock to which he literally owes his entire life – measuring in at around 7.5 hot, hard inches.

Almost too intimidated to continue, Jake knew he couldn’t disappoint his father, not after last Saturday. Knowing he would be making daddy proud, Jake grabbed his father’s cock with his right hand, and goddamn, they weren’t joking about cocks being warm. Not jerking it, but keeping it very still indeed, Jake raised his mouth to his dad’s cock and swallowed over 5 inches of it, his deep green eyes locked on his father’s brown eyes. The saltiness of the pre-cum, the faintest hint of piss, and (again) the warmth all filled Jake’s mouth, the musky, almost sweaty scent of his father’s curly, unkempt pubic hair filled Jake’s nose. Such a unique combination of flavours… All so delicious by individually; indescribable perfection when combined. Jake’s lips clung tightly to Roger’s dick and his tongue pressed against the underside of Roger’s thick rod as he moved his head towards Roger’s tip, and back down. Jake breathed heavily through his nose and moaned loudly with the back of his throat. Roger gazed deep into his son’s eyes and ran his fingers through Jake’s stylish hair.

“Jake… Oh fuck that feels good…” Roger moaned, clearly in ecstasy. It had been literal years since Lucy had given him oral, and never had she been this good. Yet here Jake was, his own beautiful son sucking his first ever dick, and doing it like a professional. Jake later told Roger that he’d practiced stopping his gag reflex using his toothbrush.

His father’s ecstatic moan filled Jake with the confidence he needed to keep sucking, faster and with more tongue play. After reaching the head, Jake would release his suck-hold on Roger’s cock and lick the tip in a circle once or twice before sucking down and up again. Soon, Jake realised his left hand was just sitting on his hip, so he decided to put it to work as well. He rubbed his father’s tightly-clenched ass cheeks briefly, before becoming much more interested in his dad’s hairy crack. His index finger completed a few up-and-down laps of Roger’s crack before Jake started probing inside Roger’s crack, where he quickly and instinctively found his father’s tight, virgin asshole. Jake slid his finger inside, relishing the warmth, the constrictive pressure, and the forbidden appeal his father’s ass offered. While he wasn’t expecting Jake’s finger, Roger nevertheless welcomed it with a deep, loud moan. Jake was still learning the art of pleasuring another man, and thus he wasn’t entirely sure what he was meant to be searching for (yes, the prostate, but where?) once inside his dad’s asshole. Not content to simply leave his finger there while he sucked his dad’s cock, Jake began sliding his finger in and out of his dad’s incredibly tight hole. Based on the now-rhythmic moaning escaping his father’s throat, Jake decided that his dad didn’t mind this improvisation too much. Still sucking his dad’s thick, tasty cock.

But now, he was getting tired. His tongue was starting to get sore, his jaw and throat hurt from keeping them locked open. And Roger seemed no closer to cumming, which actually wasn’t such a bad thing. But Jake knew he had to stop sucking, and soon. He slowly pulled his finger all the way from his dad’s asshole, and completed one more cycle of suck-down/suck-up/tip-lick before kissing Roger’s blog shemale dick a temporary goodbye and standing up. Once again face-to-face with his (incredibly grateful and horny) father, Jake unbuttoned Roger’s shirt, slid it from his shoulders, and was pleased to see his father wearing a plain white singlet, which Jake had always wanted to do, as he thought they were always sexy. He ran his hands over his almost-naked father, enjoying the feeling of the cotton singlet, then the top of Roger’s hairy chest, then back to his singlet, then down to his hips and around to his (now relaxed) round ass cheeks. As far as 45 year old men go, Roger was the fucking sexiest in Jake’s eyes. Roger started to lift his singlet, but Jake stopped him almost immediately.

“No, leave it, Dad… just this time,” Jake pleaded. Roger reluctantly let go of the singlet, deciding to instead relieve Jake of his t-shirt, which was noticeably wet under the armpits. Apparently his son had been working hard down there. After the shirt was gone, Roger got the first good look at his son’s naked body. Sure, he’d put on a little bit of muscle mass after doing all the yard work for his mother the last few months, but he was still quite a skinny young man. That just made Roger even happier; call him old-fashioned, but he still preferred the man being the more dominant one in the bedroom. And since that expression doesn’t exactly apply to gay incest pairings, he liked it when the dad was on top the most. More experience, more assertive, more aware of what he likes. In Roger’s eyes, Jake was still experimenting, and it was up to Roger to show him the ropes.

Roger placed a hand behind Jake’s neck and pulled his naked, lustful, beautiful son closer to him, so that Jake was in line with his nipples. Knowing immediately what his dad wanted, Jake pulled the singlet to one side with a finger and licked his father’s nipple keenly. It didn’t take long for the nipple to become erect, at which point Jake started sucking. A short time later, he did the same for the other nipple. Soon, though, Roger’s patience had reached its limit. He tapped Jake under his chin, indicating he wanted Jake to stand up properly again.

“I want you now, Jake.” After that, there were no words. Roger simply placed his hands on Jake’s shoulders, gave his son the briefest of kisses on his lips, and turned him around. Once again, Jake knew what Dad wanted without being told. He stepped towards the door, leaned forward and spread his legs for Roger. Lacking any form of packaged lubricant, Roger knelt on one knee, spread his son’s firm, little round ass cheeks apart and began licking his asshole with vigour. Jake felt Roger’s tongue slide up and down his ass crack, getting it nice and wet, and best of all, he felt his father’s tongue lick his little brown hole in clockwise motions, counter-clockwise motions, and then an in-and-out probing that was almost painfully too brief.

Jake’s disappointment would not last long, though, as his father was soon standing on both feet again, stepping closer and closer to Jake’s standing, spread-eagled asshole. Roger held his cock steady with one hand and with the other, grasped Jake’s shoulder for both purchase and to support his son through a painful time. Jake would later recall no pain at all, however. Despite being an anal virgin, his dad’s cock entered him slowly, but with little resistance. Roger would later joke that Jake’s asshole was clearly made for dad. The moment that Roger’s thick purple dick tip slid fully into Jake’s asshole, the pair were perfectly in sync. They moaned in unison, their masculine incestuous love filling their house’s foyer and their hearts. As Roger pushed inside his son’s constrictive-yet-accommodating rear passageway, Jake backed his ass further onto his father’s thick, impossibly hard cock. He could almost feel each of his father’s heartbeats in his ass as Roger’s dick throbbed with unbridled passion. Eventually, Roger found his cock had been fully swallowed by Jake’s fresh, eager asshole. His father’s cock quickly brushed against Jake’s prostate. Jake immediately thought “Oh, so THAT’S what I’m meant to look for inside dad’s ass.”

Comfortable in the knowledge that his son could fully take his sizeable dick this early into their relationship, Roger started thrusting. To Jake, this was a dream come true. The feeling of his father’s almost total withdrawal, followed immediately by the smack of his dad’s pubic bone hitting into his ass… God, it was ecstasy. Much better than even the best sex he’d had with Samantha. Yes, this is where Jake was meant to be: leaning against the front door while Roger fucked and pounded his back door. Roger’s rhythm increased to a dizzying rate, yet Jake matched it without faltering. Soon, he felt Roger’s rough hand around his hard cock as his dad fucked his ass and jerked his cock in perfect time. In and out of his ass, up and down his cock. Jake tried to scream out that this was all he ever wanted, that he was Roger’s forever and ever, that he’d do anything for dad now. But the words never came. Jake’s mind was blanketed in a hot, red haze of incestuous lust. All that remained of him at that moment was his primal instinct to fuck his dad’s hard, hot, thick, long, delicious cock.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Summary: Straight married man submits to a young stranger at airport.

Note: This will be a multi-chaptered tale of one man’s journey from straight as an arrow, to submissive, eager cocksucker and much more.

Note 2: Thanks to goamz86, Robert, and Mab7991 for editing this story.

COCKSUCKER

I was pissed off. I had rushed my ass off to make my flight only to learn it had been delayed by an hour and a half.

Exhausted, I sat down and texted my wife:

Flight delayed…grrrr.

I looked around and saw many others sitting around, seemingly as annoyed by the delay as I was. Realizing that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was now one-thirty, I went to a little bar and grill to have a beer and a meal. I grabbed a seat at the bar, as there were no tables available.

My wife texted back:

Just relax honey…grab a bite to eat.

I texted back:

Already at the bar getting ready to order. Text you later.

She texted back:

Love you!

After ordering, a young guy, maybe twenty-one, asked, “Delayed?”

“That obvious?” I asked.

“You have that frazzled, rushed to get here, and now I have to fucking wait look,” he answered.

“There is a look for that?” I joked.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of me. I was about to ask ‘what the fuck?’, as he turned the phone around and showed me the photo he had just taken.

“Fair enough,” I laughed, the photo caught me indeed looking pretty frazzled.

“I’m Gary,” he said, extending his hand.

“Chris,” I offered back, shaking his hand, amazed at just how blue his eyes were, like the water in the Bahamas, which I had visited last year with my wife.

“You have rather soft hands,” he said.

I shrugged, “A business man,” still unable to stop looking into his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked.

“What? Oh, it is just that you have ridiculously blue eyes,” I said.

“I get that all the time,” he shrugged.

“I imagine so,” I nodded, again looking into his exotic blue eyes.

“Why don’t you buy me a drink?” He said, casually.

Not wanting to be rude, I agreed, “Sure, what are you drinking?”

“Rye and coke,” he said, again his eyes boring into me.

I was not gay. I had never even considered a guy sexually attractive, yet something about his eyes had me drawn to him. If I was single, and he was a woman, I would have launched a full on frontal attack.

The bartender came and I ordered a drink for Gary and another one for me.

When the bartender returned with the drinks, Gary put his hand on my leg, gave it a squeeze and said, “Thanks Chris,” before just as quickly moving his hand away

“You’re welcome,” I said, stunned by his sudden contact with my leg and the realization that he might be gay.

We chatted for ten minutes about sports, his school and my work, and I concluded his squeeze on my knee was just him being overly friendly. I would be lying if I denied that there was something unexplainable about him. I wasn’t attracted to him, yet his eyes seemed to be causing strange feelings inside me.

He asked, “Buy me another drink?”

“Sure,” I shrugged, finding it strange he didn’t buy this round but figuring it was because he was just a young first year college student and probably didn’t have a lot of money.

So I bought another round and when the bartender left with us our drinks, Gary’s hand returned to my leg, but this time it didn’t leave. “Thanks, Chris.”

“N-n-no problem,” I stammered, distracted by his hand on my leg and the sudden growth in my pants.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

I should have said the obvious, ‘you’re hand is on my leg’, but, for some unexplainable reason, those were not the words that came out of my mouth. The words that did come out of my mouth sealed my fate forever, when I didn’t protest his sexual advancement, “Oh nothing, I just still can’t get past how exotic your eyes are.”

A male stranger hits on me and instead of punching him in the face, I give him a compliment. What the hell was wrong with me? Also, why was my cock growing in my pants?

“Exotic as in beautiful?” He asked.

“I guess,” I shrugged, knowing how gay it would sound to compliment his eyes with a feminine word like beautiful.

“You guess?” He scoffed, his hand moving up my leg ever so slowly.

“Yes, they’re beautiful,” I said, for some reason just wanting to please him.

“You’re married, I see,” he responded.

“Twenty-one years,” I said, my tone implying it felt a lot longer.

“You must have a nasty itch,” he said.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Well, they say that marriage gets stale after seven years, and you are triple that,” he said.

“Oh, I love her it’s just…” I began and stopped.

“It’s just what?” He asked, his hand moving up a bit more.

“The sex isn’t what it used to be,” I admitted.

“No more head?” He asked knowingly.

“Only if she is really drunk,” I admitted, amsterdam shemale wondering why I was revealing such intimate details of my pathetic love life to a gay stranger. I reflected on how, for twenty years, our sex life had been good, but over the last year or so it had declined to almost nothing.

“Sex once a month?” he asked.

“On a good month,” I joked.

“Give me your wedding ring,” he said.

“What?” I asked, surprised from the sudden shift in our conversation as well as the odd request.

“Now!” He said, suddenly authoritative. I looked into his blue eyes and felt compelled to obey.

Taking off my wedding ring, which I never do, I handed it to him without a word.

“Good boy,” he said, his tone back to normal as he moved his hand and squeezed my stiff cock. I watched him put the ring in his pocket. Smiling, he seemed to flirt, “You may want to adjust that thing, it seems as if is feeling rather trapped.”

Without hesitation, I adjusted my cock so it was comfortable….but still begging for attention. Stunned by the reality that he had just squeezed my cock, and how I wanted his hand back on my leg or, even better, on my cock.

Just then our food arrived and we ate in silence. My head was a mess. I had just given some stranger, a gay stranger, my wedding ring. A stranger had squeezed my cock making it as hard as steel and begging for more attention. Yet, I wasn’t gay. I had never even considered doing anything gay before. Oh sure, I could tell when a man was good looking, but I never got hard, never fantasized about a guy and had definitely never masturbated about one. Yet, I ate in silence, waiting for him to talk to me again…like a girl waiting by the phone for the guy to call, I imagine…my cock never really going down.

Both of us done eating, he asked, “Want some dessert?”

“I probably have room,” I said, always having a bit of a sweet tooth and completely naive to the real meaning of the question.

“Pay for the meals and meet me in the bathroom in the last open stall, just to the right when you exit the restaurant,” he ordered, standing up and leaving before I could protest.

I went to speak, to say this was all a major misunderstanding, but of course by then I was alone…and I was no longer sure if it actually was a misunderstanding. I was definitely attracted to him, he definitely turned me on, and I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Yet…I kept telling myself…I am not gay; I am married. I have two children. I would never cheat on Laura.

Yet, it no longer seemed black and white. Straight and gay were suddenly blurred lines and not the distinct definitions I had always perceived them to be.

I paid for both our meals and drinks, and continued to ponder my current situation. It would be rude to just leave him in the washroom, yet I didn’t want him to think I was interested. I wasn’t…was I? My cock was even harder now, it seemed, yet I still didn’t see myself getting involved in a gay sex act. I decided to just go and clarify my position so as not to offend him.

I headed to the bathroom, adjusting my stiff cock again. There were a couple of guys in the washroom washing up and another at the urinals. I realized then that I would have to go into a confined stall with him to explain, yet even though I knew it was wrong, I took a deep breath and entered the second to the last stall.

“Close the door, Chris,” he instructed.

I did, but whispered, “Gary, I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so, Chris,” he said, with the same confidence I have often used in sales presentations when I we knew we were going to get the deal.

“I’m not gay,” I said.

“I’m not either,” he said, “but I know when a straight guy is dying to cross the line and submit to his inner curiosity to suck cock, and you Chris, are the ‘straight but curious’ prototype.”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, although after the past hour I wasn’t all that sure anymore.

“You are in a marriage of convenience, you are right around your middle age crisis and even though you knew it was wrong, even though you knew what I was expecting when I ordered you here, you came,” he continued.

My resolve weakening, I tried to explain my position, “I just came to tell you I can’t do this.”

“On your knees, Chris,” he demanded, ignoring my refusal.

“I can’t,” I weakly said, his eyes still drawing me in undeniably.

“Tell you what. Get on your knees and pull out my cock. If after one minute it is not in your mouth, I will return your ring and leave you alone,” he said.

The ring, shit, I had forgotten about that. “That’s all I have to do?” I asked.

“That’s it,” he shrugged, “resist my cock for one minute.”

“Okay,” I said, slowly dropping to my knees, a compromise that somehow seemed fair.

“Go ahead, unbuckle my belt,” he instructed.

My hands were trembling as I struggled to complete the simple task of undoing a belt. His belt finally unfastened, he said, “now unzip my pants, Chris.”

I rotterdam shemale again obeyed, my head spinning with just how surreal this situation was.

“Zipper,” he continued.

Hands still trembling, I pulled down his zipper.

“Pull it out,” he ordered.

Tentatively, I did. It wasn’t even completely hard, but it was at least seven inches long and growing. I stared at it. My cock twitched in my pants. My mouth watered against my will.

Gary said, “Stroke it.”

That wasn’t part of the deal, but feeling his cock in my hand felt strangely natural; stroking it just seemed to be the next step. I slowly stroked it as it continued to grow right in front of my eyes.

“Go ahead, Chris, get it nice and hard,” he instructed.

I was mesmerized by his cock. Like his eyes, it was drawing me in to a part of myself that I didn’t even know existed. I loved the feeling of his cock in my hand and the thought of it in my mouth would not leave my mind. I slowly stroked his cock until it was completely erect and ten inches long, twice the length of mine.

“Impressive isn’t it?” He asked smugly.

In a daze of admiration, I said, “It’s huge.”

“I know. That’s why all the ladies, and all the cocksuckers love it,” he said.

His declaration clarified that first off that he was not gay, but bisexual, much to my relief. But his view of me as a cocksucker disturbed me.

The term ‘cocksucker’ was degrading, and yet, as I stared at his massive tool, in utter awe of its majestic beauty, slowly stroking it with my hand, I couldn’t pull myself away like I should have.

“Go ahead, Chris, take it in your mouth,” he said, his hands going to my head.

My mind screamed ‘No!’ Yet my body ignored logic, morals and consequences as I felt the magnetic pull, and I leaned forward, opening my mouth.

As his cock slid between my lips, he purred, “There you go, Chris. Now be a good cocksucker and worship my cock like it deserves to be worshipped.”

I have no idea what I expected it to feel like, having never fantasized about it until it happened, but it seemed strangely natural. I sucked just on his mushroom head at first, getting used to having a cock in my mouth. My cock head was super sensitive, so I swirled my tongue around his, trying to replicate the way I liked to be sucked.

Gary said, “That’s it cocksucker, get used to having a cock in your mouth.”

I noticed he said ‘a cock’ and not ‘his cock’, but prayed it was just semantics.

As I slowly tried to take a little more of his cock in my mouth, my brain shut off and I concentrated on just pleasuring his tool. I wanted to hear him moan; I wanted to take as much of his cock in my mouth as I could; I wanted to taste his cum.

A couple of minutes later, as I slowly bobbed back and forth on a third of his cock, I heard over the intercom, “Boarding for flight 647 to San Francisco.”

“Isn’t that your flight?” He asked.

His big cock in my mouth was more important than making my flight as I continued bobbing on his cock hungrily.

“Do you want my cum, cocksucker?” He asked, even though his tone implied he already knew he answer.

Taking his cock out of my mouth, I answered, “Yes.”

“Yes, sir,” he corrected me.

“Yes, sir, I want your cum,” I repeated, calling someone half my age ‘sir’.

“But you’re married,” he said, tapping my lips with his cock.

Although I loved my wife, I surprisingly felt no guilt, as all I wanted was to please him. “And I’m your cocksucker,” I said, taking his cock back in my mouth.

Pulling back out, he said, “You understand I plan to use your mouth whenever I want.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, the thought both undeniably exciting and yet just as undeniably frightening. My whole marriage could fall apart, my children could find out and my career could be ruined, but at this moment, this cock, this big juicy cock, was all I cared about.

“Open up, cocksucker,” he ordered, shoving his cock in my mouth and began pumping his cock, “I expect you to eventually be able to take all ten inches of me in that mouth of yours.”

I moaned in response, the thought of taking all his cock both a turn-on and yet seemingly impossible. He only pumped half his cock in my mouth for a couple of minutes before pulling out and instantly shooting his sticky white seed all over my stunned face.

I was expecting to swallow his load and not get a facial. My mouth wide open, a few drops of his cum landed in my mouth and on my lips. I swallowed them, getting just a small sample of his taste and instantly wanting more. His cum on my face felt sticky and heavy, as if I had a coat of paint on me.

Once spent, he shoved his cock back into my mouth and said, “I could tell the minute we started talking you were a cocksucker.”

I couldn’t fathom how that was true, since I had never considered it before this day, yet somehow he was right. I had become his cocksucker.

Pulling out he said, “Give me your phone.”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed, pulling it out of my suit blog shemale pocket and handing it to him.

He typed something into my phone and handed it back to me. “First, you will not wash my cum off your face until you get to your hotel room, is that clear?”

“What? But I….” I began to protest, but was shut down.

“Shut up, cocksucker,” he said raising his voice loud enough to let anyone in the bathroom know exactly what was happening in this tiny stall. “Second, you will get a stewardess to take a picture of you once you hit the ground in San Francisco, and text it to me to prove you have obeyed. Is that clear?”

“Y-y-yes,” I stammered, stunned by his expectations.

Pulling his phone out he ordered, “Smile, cocksucker.”

“Please no,” I said, not wanting photo evidence of my submission.

“I wasn’t asking your opinion, cocksucker,” he said, raising his voice again, clearly showing no patience for disobedience.

“Sorry,” I whispered, mortified that we might be heard by other travellers.

He snapped a couple pictures and continued his expectations for me tonight, “You will then take another one, a selfie this time, in your hotel room, is that clear?”

“Yes,” I nodded, unable to believe what was happening.

“Second call for passengers with tickets to flight 647 to San Francisco,” a woman said on the intercom.

“May I have my ring back?” I asked, looking at my watch.

“When you complete all your tasks,” he said.

“How many?” I asked, petrified at the power this beautiful young man had over me as I looked up into his blue eyes and back to his still erect cock.

“Seven,” he revealed, before adding, “unless you disobey and I have to add more punishments.”

“I-I-I’ll obey,” I stammered, his ominous tone scaring me.

“I’ll text you your first task tonight,” he said, putting his cock away.

I felt a rush of disappointment as his cock disappeared from my view.

He laughed, “You look like a child who just had their teddy bear taken away.” I felt a rush of humiliation at both his assessment and the fact that he was right. My face burned with shame as he asked, “Do you want to kiss it goodbye?”

The question was humiliating, ironic since I already sucked his cock in an airport bathroom stall with people in it and was wearing his cum on my face, but once the question was asked, it was all I wanted to do.

“Yes, sir, may I please kiss it goodbye?”

“Tell me what you are first and say it loud and proud,” he ordered.

I could hear people in the washroom, knew that some had to know what had transpired and I knew I would eventually have to leave this stall. Yet, I said, in a loud clear voice, “I am your cocksucker, sir.”

“My cum bucket?” He continued.

“Yes, sir, your obedient cum bucket,” I repeated, shame and excitement bouncing inside me, battling for control.

“And what about your wife?” He asked.

“I’m yours first, sir,” I said, without hesitation, wondering if I had to choose between my almost sexless marriage with a woman I still loved, or serving this gorgeous stranger and his beautiful cock who I would choose.

“So if you are in bed with your wife and I call,” he started.

“I will lie to her and come serve you,” I said, finishing his sentence.

He pulled his cock back out and said, “Tell it how much you love it.”

So drawn into the submission, so in lust with his cock, I said, like a complete queer, “Oh I love you, cock.” I kissed the head, before adding, “I’m going to miss you while I’m gone.” I kissed the shaft and finished, “And I can’t wait to see you again, my love.”

“Passenger Chris Wellington, for flight 647 to San Francisco, please report to gate 67 immediately,” the female voice announced.

“You better go cocksucker,” He said, again putting his cock away.

“Yes, sir,” I said, getting off my sore knees.

“And when you get there I want you to turn on your phone recorder and tape yourself telling her why you are late. That will be task one,” he instructed.

“Oh God,” I gasped, the task mortifying.

“You already have cum all over your face and hair, cocksucker, it won’t be much of a mystery,” he said.

“Okay, sir,” I nodded, defeated, humiliated, late and unable to say no to this stranger.

“Go, cocksucker,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” I said, opening the door to see a dozen people staring at me.

I lowered my head and quickly scurried out of there, so humiliated I thought I might die. What if I knew one of those people?

I made it to the gate, my phone already on to record my next public humiliation, where a very pretty women my age looked at me smiling and I watched her smile fade as I said, “Sorry, ma’am, I am Chris Wellington, I was just getting a goodbye gift from my master.” As soon as I said the word master I gasped to myself.

She said in disdain, “I think you forgot to clean up your goodbye gift, sir.”

“Oh no ma’am, my gift goes with me as a reminder of his beautiful penis,” I said, trying to be politically correct.

“Ticket,” she said, so repulsed by my words and face that I felt yet another rush of shame coursing through me.

“Bye cocksucker,” I heard Gary say from behind me.

“Want to say bye to your Master?” She asked, condescendingly.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

New story I wrote specifically for Lit. Most of my stories are more romantic than erotic -although this one definitely has a little more scenes of a sexual nature in them- so if you’re looking for a love story, here you go. Thank you for all the feedback you have given me so far regarding my writing, it only makes me better. Special shout out to my proofreader who wishes to remain anonymous. I appreciate you.

Please continue to comment and vote, or message me if you want, and let me know how you feel about the characters and the story.

-KK

~~~~

Chapter 1: Be Still My Beating Heart

Ugh, okay this is getting ridiculous. I have to say something. It was turning into that song by Alicia Keys, “You Don’t Know My Name,” where the frumpy waitress is ogling the handsome and quiet guy from afar? Yeah, except I’m the frumpy waitress.

I watched him take a small sip of his coffee, the way his thick brown lips formed over the white edge, as he held the newspaper with his other hand, looking down and reading. Even his movements were small and intentional. I wondered if his love making was too.

Ugh, stop it, Micah, I told myself. You don’t even know if he’s gay. He’s probably not. There aren’t a lot of gay people living in Haverford, Pennsylvania, unless you count the colleges all around. And I have to count the colleges, it’s the only way I get to meet hot guys around my age if I’m not going into the city.

But back to Mr. Martin. Yes, I know his name, I stalked his credit card. Joseph T. Martin. Tall, sexy brown skinned man with the thin beard and mustache that connects to his dark caesar haircut.

He started coming into my small cafe over a month ago and of course I made the worst first impression. As I was coming around the counter with a plate the door opened and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was wearing a navy blue suit and tie with a light blue shirt and brown expensive looking shoes. I remembered every detail about him because I was staring so hard that I missed the end of someone’s chair and my skinny ass and the plate went flying, and I landed flat on my face.

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, of course Mr. Sexy was the one to help me up. He came running over and got all the way down into a squat, then held his hand out. “Are you okay?” he asked in his baritone voice.

“Yes,” I answered in the completely opposite, almost falsetto voice. He grabbed my arm tightly, pulled me toward him, then reached around to right below my armpit with his other hand and lifted me up like I weighed nothing, and set me on my feet but right up against his hard body. His breath smelled like minty toothpaste.

He looked at me with his wide, dark brown eyes and gave me a small smile. “You’re sure?” he asked again.

I couldn’t talk, the words were caught in my throat, so I nodded instead, touching my face and my messy bun. He nodded back and let me go. He started to walk away but I found my voice and yelled, “You need a table!?” a little louder than what I intended.

He turned back and said, “Yeah, but it’s a bit crowded in here-“

I cut him off and said, “Wait!” I turned to Marisol and said, “Clean off the two seater by the window for Mr.-” I turned back to him.

“Just Jo,” he told me. “No ‘e'”

“Just Jo,” I repeated. I turned back to Marisol. “Please clear off the table near the window for Just Jo. And compliment his breakfast. He gets what he wants because he saved my life,” I said dramatically.

He chuckled. “Thank you.”

He followed Marisol to the table near the window, a quieter part of the small cafe, and she took his order: scrambled eggs, three slices of bacon, avocado on the side and medium roast Green Mountain coffee, one cream, two sugars. He pulled out his newspaper and started reading, staying for about 30 minutes before he left without a glance back at me.

That was six weeks ago. He’s been coming in every weekday, from 7:10 to 7:40, ordering the same thing, reading the paper, drinking coffee the same way and heading out. And because it’s Marisol’s table, we don’t speak except when I give my joyful good morning that I do to every patron and he says good morning back to me. But Marisol happens to be out today. So instead of giving the table to Shelly, I decided to take it.

“How can I help you today, Jo?” I put on my best smile.

He glanced at me, then glanced around me as if he expected his regular waitress to appear behind me, then looked back at me. He seemed a little at lost for words so I helped him out. “Scrambled eggs, three slices of bacon, avocado on the side, medium roast coffee, one cream, two sugars?”

He smiled widely at me. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.” I turned to head to the counter but then I turned back and said, “You know, I never thanked you, officially, for, you know…saving my life.” I waved my hand in front of my face. Then I immediately stopped and tried not to be uncomfortable. Sometimes my flame burns a little too bright and illegal bahis I embarrass myself with my lack of masculinity.

But he didn’t seem to mind at all. He gave me another smile and said, “Anytime you need someone to pick you off the floor, I’ll be there for you.”

My mouth opened. “Did you just mock my complete and utter downfall, the most embarrassing day of my life?”

“I’m sure you’ve had others,” he said amusingly.

I gasped loudly and clutched my imaginary pearls. “Somebody wants pee in their coffee!” He laughed out loud at that, his voice deep and sultry, making me giggle. “I’ll go put your order in, Jo.” I casually touched his shoulder and felt the silky threads of his bluish-gray suit as I began to walk away.

He called to me, “Hey. What’s your name?”

Yes! I turned back and said, “Micah.”

“Micah,” he said, trying out my name on his lips, and boy did it sound like music to my ears. “Nice to meet you, Micah.”

“You met me six weeks ago, Jo,” I reminded him with a wink. I sashayed my round bottom to the counter and put his order. I could feel his eyes on me but by the time I looked up, they were back on his paper.

Every day after that I found a reason to talk to Jo. And not just talk, but flirt with him. He would walk in and I’d say, “Good morning handsome,” with a wink. And he would flash me those perfect white teeth and say good morning back to me. I would touch his shoulder as I passed by his table, serve him more coffee, make sure there were pens at his table in case he needed to jot down notes on his paper, and when he got up to leave I would call out, “Have a great day, Jo.” It was the best part of my day.

And I was starting to think I was his. His eyes lit up when I would pass by his table as if he expected some sarcastic quip or light touch, and I didn’t disappoint. One day I even got the nerve to get close and adjust his tie. He was heading out and passed me by and I saw it was a little crooked.

“Jo?” I called out. He turned around and I stood in front of him. He’s so tall my chin comes up to his shoulder, and I consider myself a tall guy at 5’10. I reached out and touched him gently. “Your tie is crooked.”

I loosened his tie a bit and he instinctively lifted his chin up, exposing his delicious Adam’s apple to me. Resisting the urge to lick it, I concentrated on putting his tie back together, adjusting his shirt collar and then patting his chest twice. I could feel how hard his pecs were and it instantly made me hard.

He looked down at me and said a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, handsome.” He looked into my light brown eyes with flecks of green in them, and his mouth curved upward very slightly, barely noticeable if I wasn’t standing so close to him. Then he turned around to walk out. “Have a great day, Jo,” I called out. He turned back and gave me a genuine smile and wave before the door closed behind him.

I stood there dreamily until Marisol passed me and said in my ear, “Ay dios mio, just let him fuck you already.”

She rolled her eyes as I smirked. I whispered, “Bitch, I’m working on it!”

Then the unthinkable happened. He came into my cafe one morning not in work clothes but in a casual dark blue sweater and jeans and a woman at his side. I didn’t call out his usual greeting and he didn’t look at me anyway, like he was avoiding any contact with me at all. I stayed at the counter taking To Go orders and tried not to look their way. They appeared to be in an intense conversation, then he reached out and held her hands across the table.

I had to go in the back and calm myself down, angry with myself. Of course he is straight. And of course he has a girlfriend. A beautiful bombshell, very light skinned, silky straight hair, perfectly manicured nails and makeup. She even dressed like she was dripping in money. He could never look at me the way he looked at her. I’m nothing but a skinny, medium brown skinned, flamboyant gay man, whose curly hair goes every which way instead of flowing down without water or gel, thanks to my Puerto Rican grandmother.

I sat on one of the boxes and touched my messy man bun, trying not to cry. By the time I made it back out there, they were both gone.

He didn’t come in that Tuesday but on Wednesday he was back on track, coming in wearing a charcoal gray suit, with his briefcase and paper. I gave a curt, “Morning, Jo,” on my way to assist another customer. The morning rush was always the busiest so it was easy to avoid him. I could tell he noticed, he kept glancing my way and I kept avoiding his eye contact. I avoided him so much I missed the customary, “Have a good day, Jo,” when he was heading out.

Thursday I told myself to put on my big boy panties and stop treating him like a leper. He did nothing wrong to me, I did it to myself creating all these fantasies about the hot muscular guy wanting the twink with a kink. Now that I know he’s straight, I can let it go. So when he came in I mustered my best smile. “Good morning illegal bahis siteleri Jo,” I practically sang.

The smile he gave me was epic, wide and showed all his teeth, and it made me smile just as hard. He said a quiet, “Good morning, Micah.”

I still kept myself busy and avoided his table, but I felt his eyes on me that whole morning. When he had risen to leave I gave him his exit greeting with the same enthusiasm, jovially. And surprisingly, he turned back and gave me that spectacular smile again, then said, “You too, Micah. You have a great day, too.”

Be still my beating heart. I stood there long after he left staring at a closed glass door when Marisol took me out of my delicious thoughts by whispering as she passed, “When you’re done mentally jerking off, can you grab the check for Table 4?”

So we settled back into our routine for another couple of weeks. I started dating this frat jock on the Villanova campus that was about three years younger than me at 21. And when I say dated, I really mean he snuck me into his room, fucked me and then kicked me out before the sun rose a couple of times a week so his roommates didn’t know he was sexing a dude. It was something to do, and it helped take my mind off Mr. Martin.

~~~

One Sunday as I was walking back from the campus in the earliest hours a black Mercedes Benz GLB rolled up beside me. The windows were tinted so I had no idea who it was. “I have mace, motherfucker!” I snarled in my most menacing voice, backing away from the curb.

He rolled the window down and smiled at me. “I don’t think you’ll need that.”

“Jo!” I exclaimed.

“Hey Micah. Want a ride?” he asked sincerely.

I know I looked a hot mess, with my curly hair falling around me like a small lion mane, bags under my eyes, mascara running and a five o’clock shadow. I also know I reeked of sex. There was no way I was getting into this perfect car sitting next to this perfect man.

“It’s okay. I can walk. It’s only another… two… miles….” I trailed off as he looked at me intently. I knew he was not really asking and he would not take no for an answer.

He quietly watched me, then said, “Get in.”

Sir, yes sir! I wordlessly bounced over to the passenger side and let myself in. I almost melted into the soft black leather, my skinny jeans feeling small in the big seat. I slid my hands under my thighs and kept looking straight ahead. I realized we hadn’t moved yet so I turned to him. He said, “You haven’t given me your address.”

“Oh,” I giggled. “32 Spring Ave, right off Ardmore Ave.”

He pulled out of space and said, “So you live in Ardmore, not Haverford, where the cafe is.”

I scoffed. “Only rich White people and college kids live in Haverford. I am a lowly cafe manager that lives in a studio apartment.”

He smiled while looking at the road. “I live in Haverford.”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously!” I gestured with my hand the luxury car we were currently in, then slid it back under my thighs. I could tell it was getting warm under my bottom so he must have turned on the seat warmer, which was nice on a crisp September morning.

He laughed. Then he asked me, “How long have you been working at the Bright Box Cafe?”

“Practically my whole life,” I told him. “I started working there in high school and just never stopped. Going on 10 years. Fen is never there so I pretty much manage it.”

“Do you attend one of the colleges around here?”

“No. I would love to, but I can’t afford to,” I told him, slightly embarrassed.

He nodded, then asked, “No financial aid?”

I scoffed again. “You have to have parents to get financial aid. I don’t have those,” I said nonchalantly.

He nodded again, then said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. They choose their religion over their son.” I shrugged. “I gave up being sorry a long time ago. Now I’m sorry for them. They will never know how awesome I am.” I smiled broadly.

He nodded a third time, then said, “You’re right. It’s their loss.”

That warmed my heart. Then I turned in my seat to face him, feeling more comfortable. “So what’s your story? You just showed up four months ago with your Italian suits and perfect skin wanting our runny scrambled eggs.”

He laughed out loud. “Well first of all, your eggs aren’t runny, they are actually pretty good. I tried out three different cafes before I found yours tucked away. And secondly, they aren’t all Italian,” he said smugly.

I laughed and touched his arm. “My bad. Didn’t mean to offend,” I said playfully.

He laughed again, then said, “I just moved back to PA. I’m originally from Harrisburg, but I’ve been living in the DC area since after college. My cousin is sick so I just wanted to be closer to him. He’s my best friend and brother since I don’t have any siblings.”

I touched his arm again. “I’m sorry to hear that. What is his illness if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Leukemia. He’s had it on and off canlı bahis siteleri since he was a kid and this is probably his fourth go round. I think he’s tired now. So I just wanted to be near him for however long he has.”

My eyes welled up before I could stop them and the tears fell out of my eyes. He looked over at me surprised and took my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s lived a great life, traveled the world, and has a great partner. He has a son now, from his own DNA, so his legacy will live on.”

He squeezed my hand and I cupped it between my own two. “Listen, he has forbade us to cry about it. If I’m not allowed to cry and Jerry, his own partner of seven years is not allowed to cry, then you are definitely not allowed to cry, especially since you haven’t met him yet.”

“I know, but you’re losing your best friend too,” I whined. “It’s so sad and-” I just realized what he said. Yet. “Will I get to meet him?” I asked.

He laughed. “Sure, I’ll bring him by the cafe the next time they come out this way. He’s a brunch kind of person, so he’ll appreciate your selections since you only serve breakfast and lunch.”

I smiled as he pulled over in front of the duplex I live in. I realized he didn’t move his hand but to give him space I slowly let go of it and moved back into my seat. He looked me up and down and smirked. “So where were you coming from? Your boyfriend’s place?”

I smirked back. “First of all, I wouldn’t exactly call him my boyfriend.”

He smiled knowingly. “Got it.”

“And where were you headed at 6 o’clock in the morning? Your girlfriend’s house?”

He answered, “To the gym. It’s my church.”

I groaned. “Oh you’re a gym junkie.” I rolled my eyes and he laughed again. I just noticed he was in workout clothes, Nike nylon T-shirt, Nike basketball shorts and exercise tights underneath it.

“Not really. I only go on Sunday mornings, I work out at home other days.”

“Well maybe I should join you then.” I didn’t mean for it to come out flirty but it came out that way.

He looked at me like he wanted to be flirty back, but instead said, “We both know you’re not going to want to go to the gym, Micah.”

I giggled and said, “You’re right about that.” He laughed, but then I told him, “But I would try it at least once. With you.” I blinked my long eyelashes at him.

He quietly watched me for a moment. Then said, “Maybe one day. You let me know when you want to go. Right now I’m late for church.”

“Sorry,” I sang. I opened the car door and let myself out. I crossed in front of the car and his eyes were all on me. It made me swish a little harder in my skinny jeans, just knowing he was watching me. I turned back to his car and said, “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime. See you tomorrow.”

I continued to sashay my way up the stairs to the main door and let myself in. He waited until I closed the door before he drove off. I couldn’t help it, my dick was swollen in my jeans and I needed a release.

I ran upstairs, opened my apartment door and went straight to the bathroom. I stripped my clothes off and jumped in the shower. I grabbed my biggest dildo, 10 inches, black and thick, and suctioned it to the wall behind me. I lubed up my ass and slid backwards into it, already open from Ivan’s cock just an hour ago, and moaned against it. I closed my eyes and stroked myself as I moved back and forth on it. I purposely slid Manny, the name of my Mandingo cock, past my prostate repeatedly building myself up for the eruption that was bound to happen. I visualized it was Jo taking me from behind, gently at first, then roughly as I moved up and down against my dildo with speed.

I moaned louder, the shower cascading down my hair and back, one hand on the wall in front of me and the other hand jerking myself faster. This was Jo who held onto my waist and thrusted repeatedly, pounding into me, until I couldn’t take it anymore. He whispered my name with his deep voice in my ear and kissed my neck, ran his hand through my hair. I called out his name and white hot jizz flew out of my cock, hitting me in the chin and coated my chest, but the rain water was quickly erasing it away. I slid myself off of Manny and leaned on the wall in front of me with both hands.

If Jo is straight then he needs to stop throwing me these vibes that he wants me. Because right now all I want to do is have him fuck the shit out of me, then curl up in his meaty arms.

~~~

We continued to be friendly with each other all week as usual. But on Friday I knew I didn’t want to wait two full days before I saw him again. So when he got up to leave for work I bounced over to him. His tie was not crooked this time but I pretended it was. I pulled his tie down a bit and repositioned it on his neck. Not meeting his eyes I asked him quietly, “Can I go to church with you on Sunday?”

“Sure,” he said just as quietly. “Pick you up at 6?

I balked a bit. “Uuuugh… 8?” I asked hopefully. I’m up at 4am to open the cafe during the week so on the weekends I like to sleep in if I can help it.

He didn’t budge. “6am, sharp. Wear something loose and comfortable.”

I sighed dramatically. “Fiiiiine. I live at 32 Spring-“

“I know where you live,” he cut me off.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

With the exception of one misogynist who apparently didn’t understand the concept of this series, the responses to where I’ve taken this has been overwhelmingly positive, therefore I will continue writing, as long as you the reader want more stories. I have a story line planned out, expanding on the developing love between Kurt and Christi, as well as the addition of Britt. However, I will only continue this series if you want me to. Let me know what you think. (Keep in mind, I was content with ending this series after Ch. 4, but continued after reader’s suggestions!)

*****

The next morning, Britt woke me up with a blow job, happily swallowing my load, and then we showered and went to breakfast. We spent the day walking around downtown like a couple of tourists, had lunch and a couple of drinks, and then went back to the room, which I had booked for two days. I called Christi that morning and we both talked to her for a little while. She didn’t say anything but I could tell that something was bothering her, and I knew that it probably had a lot to do with Britt and me. I tried to reassure her as we talked, and by the time we hung up with her I thought that she was sounding better.

When we went out, Britt decided to tease me by wearing a light summer dress and a pair of low-top Chucks … and nothing else. At every chance that she had, she teased me by bending low so I could look down the front of her dress, or she would bend over in front of me, causing her short skirt to rise even higher, sometimes to the very bottom of her firm, cute ass cheeks.

Later, we were relaxing in bed after a long, slow, mid-afternoon fuck. I was laying on my back, with my arm wrapped around Britt, who rested her arm across my chest. My arm was slowly and gently sliding up and down her bare back as we talked.

There was a brief lull in the conversation at the same time that my hand slid down to her ass. I gently squeezed a cheek and then slid my fingertips over to the crack of her ass. Britt gasped softly and her body stiffened momentarily when she felt my fingertip glide across her tight asshole.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, looking up at me.

“Of course,” I replied as I pressed a little harder with my finger.

“Did you really fuck my mommy in the butt?”

“What makes you ask that?” I replied. I continued sliding my fingers up and down her ass crack, massaging in the combination of my cum, her nectar, and her sweat.

She gasped again when I pressed a little harder with my finger, and then said, “After the Halloween party I heard her yelling at you to fuck her ass, and when I talked to her about it she told me that you did. I overheard her telling my Auntie Toni, too. She and Toni talk a lot, and mommy is always telling her about what you two do.”

“Why would she tell her sister about our sex life?” I asked. “Your aunt Toni doesn’t seem like the type that feel comfortable talking about sex. Especially THAT kind of sex!”

“I know!” she giggled, moaning and pressing her ass against my fingers harder. “Aunt Toni used to be a lot wilder though, before she married Bob. Mommy used to call her a slut all the time.”

“I think that now that Auntie Toni is supposed to be so religious and ‘good,’ mommy is having fun being able to reverse the tables on her. Mommy used to be the ‘good girl,’ and Auntie Toni was the slutty one. Now, Auntie Toni’s supposedly the holy-roller type, and you turned mommy into your slut. She loves it, and she loves rubbing Auntie Toni’s nose in it, because Auntie Toni’s always complaining about how boring her sex life is!”

Britt then inhaled sharply as I pressed harder against her asshole, sliding my fingertip inside her. She gripped my chest tightly with her hand and then relaxed it. She continued telling me about the sibling rivalry between the two women, and how now Christi seemed to think that she had the upper hand. Britt’s breathing was getting heavy and ragged as I continued sliding my finger deeper into her ass.

When I realized that because of the way we were laying, I was only able to get less than half of my finger into her tight back end, I hooked my finger into her and pulled up with my hand. Britt quickly got the hint and slid up my body a little, allowing me more access to her ass.

She tried to continue talking about her mother and aunt, but she soon stopped and started breathing heavy again, almost whimpering as my finger was soon joined by a second, and they both slowly started sliding into her ass.

The hand laying across my chest started squeezing once more and I looked down at her. She was staring up at me, her eyes wide and almost glazed over. I was sliding my fingers in and out of her tight ass a little more and I raised my eyebrows, almost like I was asking her a question. Slowly, she nodded her head and I quickly thrust my fingers all the way inside of her ass.

“Ohmygod!” she whimpered softly as her eyes popped open wider. I felt her pushing her ass back at my hand as I continued fingering it.

After a couple of minutes, canlı bahis I leaned down and started kissing her. As soon as our lips touched she attacked me, kissing me passionately. I then wrapped the fingers of my free hand around her wrist and slid it down my chest and over to her belly. I continued gently pushing it down and she started to wrap her fingers around my thickening shaft, but I continued moving her hand until she realized what I wanted her to do, and she started rubbing her clit.

She soon started rubbing her pussy even faster, moaning louder into my mouth, and I began finger-fucking her ass faster and harder.

“OhhhhYYEEEAAAAAHHHH!” she growled softly as I felt her body tighten. “Ooohhhhmmyyyygggoddddddd!”

“Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! AAAHHHH! Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhh!”

I suddenly felt her ass tighten around my fingers as an orgasm swept over her body. She moaned low and loud as her hips continued pushing back at my hand.

“OOOOooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she moaned as she continued cumming. Her asshole was still squeezing my fingers, tight enough that I thought she wanted me to keep them there permanently.

“Oh my god!” she gasped a few minutes later as she came down from her orgasm. “Holy crap! That was … different! Intense!”

“Did you like it?” I asked as I slid my fingers from her.

“Yes! You were sooo gentle!” she replied. “I’ve had boys play with my ass, but no boy has been as gentle as you were! No wonder mommy likes it!”

“Thank you!” she said a few seconds later as she kissed me. “You are showing me so much! I can see why mommy loves you so much!”

We decided to go home later that day, and as Britt showered I called Christi. She sounded like he had been drinking, and her tone told me that she was upset.

As we drove home a short while later, I was worried. I knew that something was up with Christi, and it wasn’t going to be good. I felt like all my worst fears were coming true.

I told Britt that she had to be careful when we got home, and her reply was simply, “No problem.”

A few minutes later I pulled into our street. Just as I reached Christi’s driveway, Britt looked at me and said, “You can either follow me into the house and watch what happens, or you can go home and wait to hear from mommy. But I’m going to thank her for last night right away.”

I then watched as she got out of the car and started walking towards the house, wondering what she meant by “thank her.” I walked quickly to catch up with her, still worrying about Christi.

As soon as she walked in the house, Britt called out, “Mommy! I’m home!”

“Well, well,” I heard from the kitchen. “Look who walked in, doing the slut walk of shame!” I looked over and saw Christi standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame wearing her old, worn, terry cloth bathrobe. “Typical slut, still wearing the same clothes as last night, too!” From the slurring of her words, and the weaving as she tried to stand still, it was clear that she was drunk.

Britt, to my surprise, didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she walked up to her mother and grabbed her by the collar of her robe. She then pulled her down and kissed her, stopping Christi from saying anything else.

Christi tried to push her daughter away as the kiss turned passionate, but Britt, being younger and stronger than her drunk mother, grabbed Christi’s hands and pinned them against the wall and kissed her harder. Christi continued to try to fight her off, but her energy soon wore down and Britt embraced her and continued kissing her as Christi wrapped her arms around her.

After a few minutes, with Christi starting to kiss Britt back, Britt pulled her lips form her mother’s. I watched as Britt slowly started opening her mother’s robe and kissing her neck. “Britt! No! What are you doing?” Christi weakly protested.

“Mommy, yes,” Britt replied softly. “You gave me a great gift last night, now let me say thank you.”

“No,” Christi said. “I never should have let that happen! That was wrong!”

“No mommy, it was right. It was SO right! You were right! Kurt is SO GOOD! He made me feel things that I’ve never felt before!”

“I know that you were lonely last night, and you’re confused now. I want to tell you that it’s all right. I love you. Kurt loves you. I love Kurt, and I love you! Now let me show you how much I love you! Let me thank you!”

“But Britt! Baby! I’m your mother! This is wrong!” Christi protested as she leaned back against the wall.

Britt ignored her mother and continued kissing her. She hit all of Christi’s soft spots, from the tender flesh just behind her earlobe, down her neck and over to her throat. As she kissed her, Christi moaned and held her tighter.

Britt started kissing down the center of her mother’s chest and Christi moaned louder. She suddenly started losing her balance and I jumped up and helped Britt hold her up. Britt looked at me and motioned towards the couch in the living room, and I stood behind Christi and led her there.

Britt held her mother up, bahis siteleri hugging and kissing her as she leaned back against me. I then led Christi to her couch and sat her down, sitting behind her. She leaned back and rested her head on my shoulder, and then turned to look at me and smiled. “Hi baby!” she slurred.

“Hi baby,” I replied, leaning in to kiss her. We kissed gently for a few seconds as Britt joined us and started kissing on her mother’s body again.

“Ohhhh daaamnn!” Christi moaned. “This is wrong!”

I didn’t say anything as I watched Britt over her shoulder. Christi looked at me again and said, “I love you baby!”

“I love you too!” I told her as I kissed her.

“I never should have let last night happen,” she started crying. “You’re not going to want me, now that you’ve had Britt!”

“Baby, I love you more than ever,” I assured her. “I want you more than ever! NOTHING could change that!”

“Oh my god!” she moaned as Britt started licking and sucking on one of her nipples. “Are you sure, baby? I don’t want to lose you!”

“I can’t lose you!” she cried before I could reply.

“Christi, my love, you’re not going to lose me. I promise.”

“Ohhhhhhhh!” she moaned in response. I wasn’t sure if she was moaning because of what Britt was doing to her, or because she felt my cock rising and pressing against her ass.

“Are you two done?” Britt asked. “I’m trying to make love to my mommy, and you two keep jabbering!”

“I think we should stop, and you should just let Britt do what she wants,” I whispered in Christi’s ear.

“But … you don’t think that this is wrong?” Christi asked.

“Right now, from this view, this is HOT!” I assured her. “Your beautiful, sexy little girl wants to thank you and show you her love. You need someone to take care of you and give you some loving right now. Let her love you, and then I’ll take my turn.”

“Oh my gosh!” she moaned. Britt was kissing and nibbling on her neck again and Christi leaned her head back, pressing it against my shoulder. “Do you promise?”

“I promise, baby,” I told her as I cupped her breasts.

“Oooook,” she moaned as Britt started flicking her tongue around her nipples again. I held Christi’s tits up for Britt and she smiled up at me as she took her mother’s stiff nipples between her lips.

After licking, sucking, and gently biting down on her mother’s sensitive nipples, Britt started slowly kissing her way down Christi’s belly. Christi started to try to push Britt away and Britt grabbed her wrists and looked up at her.

“Mommy, if you don’t stop trying to fight me, I’m going to have Kurt use the belt on your robe to tie your hands behind your back,” Britt told her mother. Hearing that threat, Christi gasped and whimpered, and then lay back against me.

“This is so wrong!” she moaned as Britt kissed just above her bare mound. “But it feels soooooo good!”

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby,” I whispered in her ear as I cupped her breasts and started softly squeezing them.

“Ohhhh yeeaaahhh!” she moaned in response, lifting her hips up to Britt’s face. Britt looked up and we made eye contact, and she smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at me as she slid a little lower. I started gently pinching Christi’s hard nipples and she moaned loudly, thrusting her hips harder against her daughter’s face.

“Oh my god!” Christi whimpered as Britt started flicking her tongue at her mother’s clit. Christi then moaned, “Nooooo!” and reached her hands down to Britt’s head and tried to push her away. I quickly released her breasts and grabbed her wrists, holding them firmly as Britt licked her pussy. She tried to wrest her arms from me, making me grip her a little tighter, and she then moaned softly and let her arms drop. I then lifted her hands and brought them to the back of Britt’s head.

“Show her what you like,” I whispered softly. Christi moaned again and nodded her head as she held on to Britt’s head. I smiled to myself and cupped her tits again as I thought about how this was the first time that I’d ever had this view of a woman being eaten out.

I squeezed her tits and pinched her nipples as I started kissing her neck just behind her ear, and Christi moaned louder, raising her hips and pulling Britt’s head in tighter to her pussy. I heard Britt moan and shake her head softly as she started sucking on Christi’s clit.

I pinched Christi’s nipples harder and she moaned louder, raising her hips up to her daughter’s face again. Christi’s arms soon relaxed and Britt looked up and smiled at me, her face coated in her mother’s juices. Then she leaned back down and started sliding her tongue all around her mother’s pussy again.

Christi let out a long, soft, high-pitched moan when Britt spread her mother’s pussy lips apart and started flicking her tongue at her clit. Then Christi started moving her hips, raising and lowering them at Britt’s face. She moaned again and brought her arms up, placing her hands on top of mine and helped me as I squeezed her tits and pinched her nipples.

After bahis şirketleri a few seconds, I adjusted my grip on her breasts, which were rising and falling harder as Britt continued her oral assault. I gently hugged her and gently nipped at her neck as I squeezed her tits and she tightened her grip with her arms as well.

“Ohhhh babyyy,” she moaned softly. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or her daughter, who’s tongue was flicking faster.

“It’s just so …” she moaned as I felt her arms tighten and she started to move them.

“Good?” I said, trying to finish her sentence as I held her arms down. “Just let it go, baby. Let yourself go.”

“Yes. Sooo good!” she moaned in response.

“I love you,” she moaned a couple of seconds later, turning her head towards me.

“I love you too baby,” I told her as I kissed her. I pinched her nipples as our tongues danced together and Britt continued eating her out.

Christi suddenly gasped and moaned loudly into my mouth, and I opened my eyes and looked down at Britt. From the view that I had, I could see that Britt had slid a finger into her mother’s pussy. As I watched it looked like Britt added a second finger and Christi gasped louder when I broke off our kiss and started kissing and nibbling on her neck again.

Christi was moving her hips, alternating between pushing her wet pussy up at Britt’s face and rubbing her ass against my now rock-hard cock.

I knew by her sounds and her actions that Christi was going to cum soon, so I whispered in her ear again.

“That’s it baby, let it go. Cum,” I told her.

“Oh yeeeaaahh!” she whimpered in reply. She started squeezing my hands harder and her breathing got heavier. “So close!”

“Yeah baby, cum,” I whispered. “Cum for her. Cum all over her pretty face.”

Christi moaned loudly and then squeezed my hands even harder. “Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oooohhhhhhhhhyyyyyeeeeaaahhhhhhhh!” she started wailing. I looked down and saw her hips moving up and down, a sure sign.

“Ohmygod! I’mcumming!” she moaned a few seconds later. “So good! I’m cumming baby! Oh my god! Yeahhhh!”

I held Christi, hugging her tight as her orgasm swept over her. She shook in my arms and I could hear Britt moan too as she continued making her mother cum, and soon Christi’s body collapsed in my arms.

“Oh my god!” she whimpered softly, gripping my arms. “That was so good!” I watched as Britt slid her fingers from her mother’s pussy and she raised them for me to see. Christi’s juices coated Britt’s fingers and there was a trickle running down to her wrist. Britt smiled at me and raised her fingers to my mouth, offering her wet fingers to me.

I licked and sucked one of Britt’s fingers clean as Christi lay back against my chest and moaned softly, recovering from her orgasm. Britt then pulled her finger from my mouth and started cleaning off the other one as Christi started moving her hips again, grinding her ass against my bulge.

“Baby, please make love to me! I need you right now!” she moaned as she squeezed my arms tighter.

“I’m all yours baby,” I whispered in her ear as I squeezed her breast with one hand while the other one slid down her belly. I knew that with the huge orgasm she just had, she was still wound up and was ready for just about anything. It also wouldn’t take much to make her cum again. “Show me how much you want me.”

Christi moaned and slid off of the couch, getting to her knees and turning towards me until she was between my legs. She looked up at me as she slid her hands across my bulging pants and opened them. My cock soon popped up and she giggled, and then slid them down to my ankles.

I heard a noise from behind her, and I looked up to see Britt sitting in the loveseat just off to the side, watching us intently.

With my rock-hard shaft standing tall and proud, Christi wrapped her hand around it and slowly stroked it up and down. “I love this cock SOOOO much!” she moaned softly. She then looked back up at me and added, “I love YOU SOOOO much!”

“I love you so much too, baby,” I replied as she lowered her head and kissed the head of my rod, flicking her tongue all around it.

“Damn! I can’t wait any longer!” she said as she placed her hands on my knees and pushed herself up. Still showing the effects of her drinking, she wobbled a little and giggled as she stood in front of me and shrugged her shoulders, dropping her robe to the floor.

“Damn!” I said softly as I looked her body up and down. Her neatly waxed pussy shined with her juices, her lips open wide and ready. Her nipples were still hard, standing out from the center of her areola. Christi whimpered softly as she leaned down and grabbed on to my knees again.

I slid my body down a little further, hanging my ass off the cushions and watched her as she looked at me and giggled drunkenly again. She straddled my legs as she tried to awkwardly walk up to me. Almost pressing her mound in my face as she wobbled, she placed her hands on my shoulders and slowly squatted down until she felt the head of my cock pressing against her wet hole. With her eyes wide as she looked down at me, Christi reached down and grasped my pole, holding it up as she lowered her pussy down the length.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

June was nervous. And not just because she was two hours late and had to skip dinner because the damn train did not arrive in time. The twenty year old looked at her phone, using it as a mirror to check her curly, light brown hair. They were decent, it would have to do. She then checked the note she had in her pocket again, and confronted the name of the street and house number. Yes, it was the right place. It already was three checks ago, but you can never be too sure.

The short brunette took a deep breath. “It’s only Valery. Your best friend from middle school. You grew up together. She will like you.” June sighed. She was grateful that her old friend accepted to share her apartment with her, rent was prohibitive in the area, and she really could not handle a large dorm.

She rang the bell. A deep, warm, feminine voice answered. “Hello?”

“It’s me, June.”

“Oh, you’re here! Come in! Second floor, door on the left. Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, don’t worry” June answered, then entered the building.

She reached the inner door and knocked. Then it opened. And she saw her. And her heart jumped: The scrawny kid with braces she remembered turned into a stunning tall woman, with a delicate, slender figure, long jet-black hair and piercing gray eyes. She had the sharp lineaments of a model, completing her statuesque look. Even in a simple sweater, long house pants, and no makeup, she was gorgeous.

“June! It’s so good to see you!” She said, and hugged her tightly. The top of June’s head was just as high as Valery’s chin. June was pretty short, at five foot two, but how tall did she get? “I missed you so much.”

“I-I missed you too, Valery” June said, trying to survive the hug. Her blushing cheeks felt warmer by the second.

Valery laughed, and then released her friend. “Sorry, sorry” she said, then stole one of June’s bags. “Let me help!” added, gesturing her to enter. “Now, it’s not much: It’s just two tiny rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen/living room. But it’s all you can get for a reasonable price around here. To be honest, if you didn’t offer to share rent, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it.” She pointed at a door. “That’s yours. I already picked mine, if you don’t mind. But we can switch if you want.”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“All right, I’ll make some tea. I want to catch up!”Valery said, while June began putting down her things.

A few minutes later, the two girls sat down, in front of a hot cup of good tea. June was feeling a little more relaxed now. With her friend sitting down a few feet of distance from her, she looked a lot less intimidating. They talked a lot, a full hour, maybe even more, of their little home town, of the friends they left behind, of their parents. And their studies.

“So you’re studying mechanical engineering? Girl, that’s great! I always knew you were damn smart!” Valery said.

“I’m not really…I’m just good at math, I’m not that smart.”

“Nonsense. You saved my butt more than once in middle school. I’m just an English major. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I am studying, I would never change it, but it’s not quite as impressive.”

“Well, thanks” June awkwardly said, her cheeks flushing again.

“All right. I hate to leave you but I promised my friend I would accompany her this evening. We’ll see each other later. Feel free to eat something in the mean time.”

“O-ok” June said, watching as her friend stood up and left the room.

She took a deep breath. Why was it so difficult to talk to beautiful people? Who knows what she must have thought of her? She was so awkward and clueless! Well, at least it seemed Valery was still the cheery, warm girl that she befriended all those years ago.

_______________________________

Taking the fresh air of the evening in her lungs, Valery looked around to see if her friend from university was already there. But her mind soon wandered back to June. Cute little June that did not change at all. Her hair was still as gorgeous as ever. She liked her own, but they were quite plain; her friend’s curls instead were so pretty. And her boobs were bigger than hers. Well, she was not much of a challenge in the department, but June sported quite the pair. And her cute, high pitched voice? She must be the star of any voice chat she joined online. Nothing like her mannish voice.

“Hey Val!” A voice called from behind her. She turned around and waved at them. Her thoughts finally leaving her reunion with June behind.

_______________________________

Despite some initial difficulties, the first week of cohabitation went smoothly. The two old friends reconnected quickly. They did spend a lot of time together initially, since their studies and activities filled most of their days. But things changed, if slowly. And the first step was made a day like any other, just a bit hotter than the cold spring temperatures they were used to.

That day, Valery went, as usual, for her morning run. illegal bahis June was not a morning person, so, even if she did promise she would join her, it had yet to happen. The young woman was quietly enjoying her breakfast, when her tall friend came in.

“Uhu, it’s hot today. I must have lost a gallon of water in sweat” she said, taking a moment to catch her breath. Then she sat down on the sofa next to June, and bent down to take off her shoes. “Boy, my feet are burning” she said, while removing her socks as well.

In that moment, June saw her naked feet. And something stirred inside her. Something clicked in her brain. They were quite big, which made sense since she was on the taller side, but they were still very slender and elegant, with a high arch, and long, elegant toes that ended with well kept, short nails, covered in black polish. They looked incredibly soft, and absolutely beautiful. Breathtaking. Captivating. Gorgeou-June shook her head. What was she thinking? They were just feet! But then… why couldn’t she take her eyes off of them?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stink up the place” Valery said.

June finally managed to pry her eyes away. “What? No, no, no. Don’t worry, it’s fine. They don’t stink.”

Valery raised an eyebrow. “Really?” She took one of her feet into her hands and brought it close to her nose. “Well, they do stink a bit. I really should have used the other pair of socks today.”

“It’s fine, I don’t smell anything” June said, trying her hardest to maintain her voice neutral.

Her taller friend smiled. “Uh. You sure?” Before June could answer, she moved her long leg up, bringing her foot up to June’s face. It was as long has her head. No, longer in fact. June could feel her cheeks burn, while she tried taking her eyes off her smooth sole, in vain.

“Well? Do they stink?”

“I-I-Well, they…” June’s brain was unable to compute.

Finally, she took her foot away. “Ah! I knew it! You don’t have to be shy with me about these things, you know? If they stink they stink” she said.

“Right, right.” With the cause of her brain error taken away, June’s mind slowly rebooted.

“Ok, I’m going to shower now. Then I have to go to class. See you at lunch?”

June nodded and finally managed to smiled. “All right. Good luck with Professor Wig!” She said.

Still shocked by what just happened, June waited for her friend to leave. As soon as the door closed, she rushed to her room and turned on her laptop, ready to investigate the strange event.

But as soon as she put her hands on the keyboard, she stopped. Was she really about to search for… what? Why did her brain shut off because of a pair of feet? She sighed: She already knew the answer to that, she had a fetish, but it did not make sense: Why did feet do that to her only in that moment? Valery’s feet were not the first she saw in her life, although they might have been the prettiest, attached to one of the most beautiful women she ever laid her eyes on. She knew she was a lesbian, but a foot fetishist too?

June took a deep breath. She was a scientist. Well, a scientist in training. She should approach the problem scientifically. If she indeed had a kink for feet, the internet could easily prove or disprove that hypothesis.

Her fingers moved again, and June began exploring this new side of herself. At first results were negative, most of the links lead to porn videos with men touching the feet of women who clearly desired to be somewhere else entirely, her arousal was nearly zero.

But as she explored, she did start finding pictures of female feet that did begin to stir something deep within her nether regions. High, elegant arches. Long, beautiful toes. Delicate, soft soles. Hell, even heels and ankles were beginning to look inviting. She could definitely feel her womanhood getting warmer, while her fingers kept scrolling through photos, videos, links, even stories, about feet.

She swallowed, and closed the laptop. The test returned positive.

_______________________________

Valery let her hand decorate the empty page of her notebook with little random doodles. Professor wig, who earned his nickname because of an incident with a window some time ago, was his usual, boring, self.

Her thoughts drifted back to June. She was a bit worried about living with her initially, it had been a long while since they were together and people change, teenagers especially, but she felt quite hopeful. She always felt very comfortable around June, and time did not change that. If only she was not so shy around her.

Valery smiled. Her friend looked so cute when she blushed and acted all timid. Like before, when she teased her with her foot. Now that she thought about it, June was particularly flustered in that moment.

An idea slowly took form in her brain: could her friend be into feet? Was she a little queer? She looked down at her shoes. She never really found feet particularly beautiful. She did take care illegal bahis siteleri of her own because she liked wearing heels, but that was about the end of her thoughts about them.

Valery shook her head, even if she was into girls, and feet, she doubted she was interested in her giant, lanky, flat-as-a-board self. No, she just acted embarrassed because that is exactly what she was feeling. Her smile turned mischievous. She could not wait to get back to their apartment and have some more fun at June’s expense.

_______________________________

The next couple of weeks were difficult for June. Still shocked by her discovery, and feeling guilty for being so attracted to her friend, she could just barely manage to keep her composure around Valery. Unfortunately, her roommate did not make things easy for her, since she began walking around the house barefoot more and more often.

Because it was hot, she said. And indeed the temperatures were rising, but having a logical explanation did not help June’s raging hormones one bit.

The only positive side was that, for the time being, Valery did not seem to suspect anything. Just that morning, for example, she put her feet on the sofa’s armrest, while reading a book. And June’s mind just shut off again. A good hour wasted staring at her gorgeous soles, and her beautiful toes. June was lucky the book was so captivating, she may not have had the mental presence to pry herself away in time, if Valery noticed her.

She could not really blame her friend for those little episodes, though. In truth, she almost enjoyed the unintentional teasing. At least part of her was. University was stressing her out quite a lot: there were very few girls, the professors ignored her most of the time, and her brain was mush every other day. Her friend’s warmth and friendliness was a soothing balm for her soul, and her beauty a balm for her body. And yes, her feet were too. She had to admit it at that point, to herself at the very least.

Things escalated one day, when Valery came home from class, just after June returned as well.

“Hey, girl!” She greeted her. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting” June simply said, while sitting on the sofa, idly cycling TV channels. “Yours?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started. That idiot hit on me again. Three times. Just today. You’d think one would stop after the first no, or the second. He’s not a bad guy, but he really does not know when to quit.” She took off her converse shoes. “And I’ve been walking around all day for Wig’s project. Damn, I feel like I ran a marathon” she said letting herself fall on the sofa, near June. Then she turned, lifting her long legs up, and finally placed her socked feet in June’s lap. “Could you give me a massage? Please? I’ll do the dishes!”

The short girl gulped. “I-It’s your turn today” June said. Her muscles locked in place, frozen, while her eyes did everything in their power to avoid looking at Valery’s feet.

“Hush, don’t reveal my cunning trick!” Valery said, poking June’s belly with her big toe. June squealed in surprise. “Pretty please?” She said, giggling.

“F-Fine” June said. She took her left foot into her hands.

The fabric of her white ankle sock was just slightly damp, and very soft. She placed her fingers around her toes, and admired for a few instant her foot size. She got a little more familiar with sizes with her recent exploration of the kink, and Valery’s ones could easily be a size nine, if not a ten.

“Yeah, I know, they’re big. But when you’re six feet tall, it’s inevitable” Valery said, wiggling her toes.

June managed to carve a smile out of her unwilling lips, and began her massage.

Her thumbs pushed into Valery’s flesh, eliciting a soft moan from her tall friend. Her cheeks turned red, and her fingers stopped for a second, but she managed to get going again. With her big toe taken care of, she proceeded to the rest, gently massaging each digit. Then she got lower to the ball of her foot, and continued. Then her gorgeous arch. And finally her heel.

“God, I needed that. You have magical fingers, June” Valery said.

“Thanks” June said, a bit too quickly and too loudly. She swallowed, fearing the worst, but fortunately Valery was too relaxed to bother. Her head was leaning off the armrest, looking at the ceiling, while her arms were spread wide on the sofa.

She continued with the other foot, repeating the same gentle yet determined movements.

“Do you want me to continue?” She asked when she finished her right foot, but no answer came. The only thing she could hear was her regular, quiet breathing. Did she fall asleep?

June looked down at Valery’s feet, abandoned on top of her own legs. She managed to control herself up to that point, but their presence was getting to her. Their warmth and slight dampness against her legs and hands, their very light smell… she could feel her heart accelerate, as her mind lost its composure and let itself float canlı bahis siteleri through her over-active imagination.

The temptation was great. Too great. Slowly, her fingers reached for one of her ankle socks, and pulled to remove it. And then did the same for the other. Her bare feet now stood in front of her eyes, the black polish greeting her back like an old friend, while her toes did a little scrounch, exposed as they were to the cold air of the room.

The next few moments were dedicated to quiet admiration. Her eyes drank in the sight, while her hands slowly came back to Valery’s soles, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

“Oh you took my socks off” Valery suddenly said, wiggling her toes.

June chocked, while her heart threatened to leave her chest. “It’s easier without I think Yes!” She said, in one breath.

Valery raised an eyebrow. “Oh right, makes sense. I should have done that.” She lifted her feet away from her and stood up, then stretched her long limbs to their limits. “Ahhh, I feel great. Thanks, June. I really needed that” she said, while going to the bathroom.

June resumed breathing. She just barely dodged a bullet there.

_______________________________

Valery closed the door of the bathroom behind her. June had to have a thing for feet. Unless she had podophobia and was trying to get over it through shock therapy. Valery smiled: June looked so flustered and innocent when she called her out. She almost felt guilty. Almost.

It was not the first time she accidentally aroused someone with her presence. There was that one time she distinctly remember, where she made a male student hard by bending down to pick up a pen. But that time she felt embarrassed, and a little irritated with him. With June it was different: She did not feel shame or anger. All she could think of was June’s cute face getting all red and excited and in awe of her. And she actually liked that. She liked seeing that face a lot. Yes, she liked teasing her friend, she always did, even as kids, but was there something more behind that feeling?

Was June even interested in her? Or girls in general? Valery was bisexual, and June was definitely attractive. Just her type of girl in fact. And if she was not reading things completely the wrong way, June was attracted to her too, at some level at least.

Valery looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She was reading too much into it. But there was a way to confirm her suspicion, a voice in her head added. Her mind began hatching a plan, then, satisfied, left the bathroom.

The opportunity came a few days later, when June had to attend class, while Valery had none. The tall, young woman waited until the lesson was almost over, then she took her nail polish bottles with her and sat down on the sofa. She placed some paper towel under her feet and began removing her old polish. When she finished, she chose another color, a bright red, and painted the nails of her left foot. Then, she took a picture of her work with her phone. Finally, she selected June’s number and sent her a message, with the photo attached: “Hey! I wanted your opinion on something. Do you think this looks good? Or was the old color better?”

And then she waited.

_______________________________

June finally put her pen down, having completed the problem in record time. She was quite satisfied with her performance, she was among the first to finish. And even better, it meant she had a couple of minutes to cool her head before facing the next one. In that moment a notification on her phone popped up. It was from Valery. Curious, she looked at it.

Her eyes opened wide. She immediately turned her screen off and hid the phone under her table.

Taking a deep breath, she looked around, but none was looking at her. Did Valery discover her secret? Possible, but then why would she send her a picture of her feet? If she did find out, she would get an angry text message and an order to clear out of the apartment.

June looked at the message again, and this time she read the text.

A weight lifted from her shoulders. Valery did not know. June’s eyes drifted back to the photo. The red was nice, but she preferred the old black more, it accentuated her toes and gave her feet a more slender appearance.

Her fingers were ready to type that, but her eyes were still stuck on that photo. Why were Valery’s feet so damn hypnotic? Suddenly, all the feelings of her brief interaction with them came back, escaped from the pit she sealed them in. The faint smell, the slight dampness, the warmth, the softness of her skin. Without realizing, she bit her lips, and crossed her legs.

The professor’s voice saved her, shaking her out of her lustful stupor. She sent the message, and turned the screen off, just in time for the next exercise. Eager to forget about the whole Valery business, she threw herself into the math problem.

Unfortunately for her, with perfect timing, another message came just when she had finished the second exercise. June looked around again. No wandering eyes. Then she looked at the message. And it was another picture of Valery’s feet. This time white polish. “Ok, let me try again!” was the message attached.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

(Note to readers: This is the entire story, including all three parts and all nine chapters. To read this in stages, click on ‘Bookmark Story’ at the bottom of the last page. All characters in this story are at least 18 years old. The story is set after vaccine availability brings the pandemic under control. Most of the characters are African-American. The sex includes interracial, lesbian, anal, and various multi-body configurations. Enjoy!)

Part One: Corinne

Chapter 1

Corinne stretched slowly, feet pushing to the edge of the bed, arms deep beneath a pillow, on either side of her lover’s head. Warmth and tingles were fading, but still felt nice. So did Del’s hands, one stroking the outside of her left breast, the other’s fingers kneading the back of her neck. Even the shrinking of his erection made pleasant contact in the retreat along her walls. All in all, it was a fine orgasm.

“Need more?” he asked, ending her buzz.

“I never need more,” she said, and didn’t care that she sounded petulant. “I’ll want more, and I know we’ll do more. You in a hurry, or something?”

His lips traveled her jawline towards her ear, now kissing, now brushing. He whispered, “But wouldn’t you like everything to happen at once?”

Didn’t he know that she was weary of this topic? “You. And. Me,” she retorted. “Us only. Do you need more than that?”

He didn’t answer that question, so she assumed it would get a ‘yes.’ Instead he said, “Imagine more mouths, doing whatever you want. One on each breast, the other between your legs. That can’t happen with only you and me.”

She chose not to argue the point. Attempting that sort of contact with toys, or weird techniques, repelled her even more than the notion of group sex. When Del licked her clitoris and labia, she could get one dark brown nipple to her mouth—but only briefly, with her neck soon strained.

She asked, “Do you really want to nail a roomful of women, or do you just want to impress everybody?”

Corinne saw his smile as only a little bit naughty. “Are you happier with me leaving you alone when I step out?”

“When I’m busy, yes,” she said. That was the case a week ago. She brought home a huge amount of work, so Del left the house and banged one of his side pieces. Late that night, when she decided she had worked enough, Del had plenty of rigidity for her pleasure. As always.

The condomed cock was still well inside her. He was recovering already. She lifted her trunk and detached from him, then slid off to lie on her side, resting an arm and a leg on his slightly lighter skin. A signal for him to stay put.

“So let’s say we’re at an orgy,” she said, “and you happen to be one of the three mouths, pleasuring my breast of your choice. If I like what I see from another man, and ask that he give me the benefit of his erection, will you be okay with letting, and watching, him screw me?”

“I can’t get mad about someone wanting to screw you.” He peeled off the condom, dropped it into what was once an ashtray, and started wet-wiping his putz. “You’re beautiful. I screw you whenever I can. Now, I may not like it if you invite in some other guy’s meat, but I won’t object to it. The first time, anyway. Even if he’s white. I’d continue with my pleasant task while he services you.” He punctuated that by settling his open mouth on Corinne’s nearest breast. He gave her new tingles, and then more, as her other breast received fondling from both his hands.

She settled onto her back and let him do his magic. As he repositioned, she felt a brief poke at her thigh, harbinger of his resumed erection. Part of her actually wanted to see Del’s reaction if her folds were spread by a white penis. Might she fake a really strong orgasm, just to freak Del out? Would that be worth dealing with the consequences, whatever they’d be?

Before she could be drawn in deeper by his breast love, Corinne forced out, “So you admit that you might get jealous if I bang other men?” She had side pieces of her own, two of them white. Del knew that, just as Corinne knew about, and shrugged off, his other lovers.

He lifted his mouth enough to say, “I don’t know. I think I should find out, don’t you?” Then he returned his attention to her swelling nipple, and she succumbed. He was the only man who had ever aroused her large breasts all the way to orgasm, and she knew he would do it again now.

Her eyes closed, her mouth opened. The pleasure led her to speculate on other pleasures, still mysterious to her. Corinne sought other lovers less often than Del did, usually when work pulled her and Del apart for a few days. A group situation would be much different from sex on the side: Being in the same place with her main man, but riding some other guy’s pole. Also, with other people watching her have sex, and knowing that she was excluding Del.

As she ascended the curve towards ecstasy, she moved one hand to his crotch. She illegal bahis gave a few pumps to his cock, then switched to fingering his balls, then switched back. One action at a time. He liked two hands there, and he would certainly want two mouths.

Later, after she had keened in the delight from her shuddering breasts, they sixty-nined without seeking orgasm, merely enjoying the buzz. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t get both penis and testicles in her mouth at the same time. His prick was average length, but it was thick (and relentless), and his sac was long. He had mentioned only what multiple lovers could do for her, probably knowing that this would lead her to think of what they could do for him. Bastard, she thought affectionately, swirling her tongue around his glans, feeling not the least bit inadequate for possessing only one mouth.

In the shower, after another erection launched her to another orgasm, she panted as the shlong left her pussy, this condom dripping body wash along with her sex fluid. Then she was able to say, “Is this supposed to convince me that I need more sex?”

“This is serial lovemaking,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “We’ve never had parallel.”

***

Corinne and Del had lived together for two years. They had slept around before they met, and they continued now. Her policy was to give Del as much information about her dalliances as he needed to know, and to ensure that her lovers knew that she did that. She respected everyone. Del said that he did the same.

Del seemed content with the arrangement, while Corinne had some qualms. She felt devoted to Del. Despite his amorous artistry, however, she didn’t love him in the way she thought she would once she was part of a couple.

He had shown his devotion to Corinne after an ankle fracture from rollerblading laid her up, and made some of their sex fun impractical for several days. He waited on her, took over her chores, and didn’t seek sex with anyone else. When the cast came off and the physical therapy was done, they banged each other exclusively over a seventeen-day span. There was a gap in the middle while she menstruated, but during that time Del gave her all of the non-vaginal attention she could want.

She thought that this experience bonded them. She expected it would close them up as a couple. It didn’t. They resumed sleeping around. She still wanted to do that, enjoying her lovers’ different styles, but believed that she shouldn’t want to.

So now, would they go even farther than getting some strange on the side, and dive into a fuckpile?

As annoyed as she was over his interest in this, she had started to think of having her other lovers available to her at the same time as Del.

Corinne Latimer was highly sexed, but didn’t advertise the fact. Growing up in a church-centered family, she learned modesty from her parents without it being drummed into her. As she matured, she saw the practicality of staying modest in her public persona. Once she started having sex, she did so discreetly. Modesty had even become something of a reflex. As open as she was with a lover, sometimes an unexpected sexual thought or reference (especially when out in public) made her scrunch her shoulders timidly.

All of the available documentation on Corinne, including social media profiles, showed her as primly dressed and serious-minded. She didn’t hide the fact that she lived with Delmore Vargas, without marriage, but because she didn’t espouse moralistic views or criticize the life choices of others, her private life didn’t draw much attention.

Corinne drew plenty of attention from men. She was a statuesque 5′ 10,” with large dark eyes. She kept her abundant hair braided, thickly framing her strong facial features and softening their effect. Her breasts rode high on her rib cage, except when she chose to wear a minimizer. Her limbs were sleek and shapely. Her body and mind were in accord.

She was also in demand professionally, as a consultant for the startup and maintenance of nonprofit organizations. Even while doing a goodly amount of pro bono work, she was prosperous. So was Del, working in electronic equipment security and malware removal as a salaried employee of a tech firm. The way they chose to live (modestly, in keeping with Corinne’s preference) gave them essentially no worries about money.

So, while still giving plenty of time and mindshare to her parents and siblings, and sometimes putting in extra effort for her clients, Corinne had many opportunities for one-on-one sex (which she liked), and lately for speculations on x-on-x sex (not so much, but she couldn’t get rid of them).

At a client site the day after Del referred to ‘parallel’ lovemaking, she overheard two women joking about their chances with a man they knew, if they could double-team him. Corinne scrunched her shoulders.

***

Del said no more on the subject for a few days. When he did bring it up, it was during a weekend lunch. At a time like that illegal bahis siteleri they functioned as ordinary roommates, casually dressed, likely to discuss things such as redecorating or going to a concert. Del wore his glasses, rather than bothering with contacts, and a shirt and slacks that had aged out of his work-wear rotation. Corinne was in jeans and a loose t-shirt, her feet bare.

“I’d like to get to where we can close the group sex discussion,” he said. While her eyes were rolling he added, “I’ll drop the subject forever if you hate every possibility. But will you at least listen while I suggest things?”

She glanced his way. “I have more than half a sandwich left. Knock yourself out.” The prospect that this could end the nonsense for good made her receptive. She gathered that he knew that.

“First, I’ll rule out swinger parties, getaways, and retreats,” he said, smoothly entering conference-room mode. “Some of that isn’t really legal, and even when they start in groups, people usually pair off. We can already have that end result.”

“I agree,” she said, then sipped coffee before adding, “You already have a best case here, right?”

A smile curved up the mustache of his vandyke. “I’ve considered options. Am I correct in thinking that you’re not interested in large groups, where people could keep drifting in?”

“‘Not interested’ doesn’t go far enough,” she said. “I’d say ‘adamantly opposed.'”

“Fair enough. Also, while we get interested in new people, we wouldn’t want to get busy with a lot of total strangers. True?”

“For me, yes. For you, if you say so.” She smirked, although she knew he had that boundary.

“Fortunately, we both know people with whom we share intimacy, and feel safe. We could make up a group with our lovers.”

Interested in how he’d react, she said, “We could. If they’re up for taking that step.”

Del leaned in and talked faster. “And to get the kind of action we’ve discussed, we’d each bring two lovers. There’d be six of us, enough for plenty of variety, but not a huge crowd.”

She leaned in also. “And we’d choose partners who are willing to do this, and be the most likely to flourish and enjoy.”

“YES!” he exulted. “So, you like the idea?”

She knit her brow. “I don’t know. I’ve never brought up something like this with my guys.” She got her phone out of her jeans pocket and quick-fingered the contact list. Shortly: “Hi Mac. You free tonight?”

Smiling, eyes on Del, Corinne slowly rolled her hips in the chair. “Yeah, me too. Ooooh, I’d like that. I also want to talk to you about something. I think you’ll like that, too. Your place, at eight? Cool, Baby!”

Call ended, she blinked at Del’s stunned expression. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Did you have plans for tonight?”

A couple seconds later, Del chuckled. “Damn, Cory,” he said, shaking his head. “Really well played.”

***

With most of her other lovers, Corinne enjoyed their looks, their skills, their edginess, or their degree of difference from her. With Andre McCloud, there was also comfort. She and Mac had been lovers, on and off, for eight years. For Corinne, hooking up with him was like coming home.

They met in college, and soon went steady. For a while they were very close. Then they nearly drove each other nuts. There were misunderstandings, jealousy, drug use, and (Corinne realized later) immaturity. They parted, found other people, got hurt, found each other again to get over the hurt, and parted again.

They learned that their lives wouldn’t mesh together. Mac was a composer and keyboard/synthesizer player. Corinne liked the sizzle of the music scene, but only at a distance. Mac wanted no-strings sex with many partners. Corinne wanted more connection. Now, happy domestically with Del, she had a no-strings crew that included Mac, who also provided her with…connection.

Mac’s sound system favored her with his latest experimental, atonal work. She tolerated it, knowing that they would soon drown it out with their improvised vocals. She took him in legs-up missionary, which allowed her to control how much of his length she would bring in. Mac’s deep probing gave her thrills she didn’t get with Del, as long as he didn’t ram her cervix. Del’s thicker cock did wonders for her shallows.

This time, she imagined Mac and Del loving her together. The contrasts went beyond their groins. Del was Corinne’s height with a compact frame, Mac was three inches taller with darker skin and a voice range that allowed him to sound bass. Different touches, scents, tastes—

She came twice, with intensity that surprised her. She hoped this was overactive fantasizing.

Mac was a fine lover with a long-lasting erection, but he produced small amounts of semen. Corinne was fine with this, licking his dick after peeling off the condom and then taking him between her breasts, sucking the glans as it rose through her cleavage. The second load was no problem for her.

As canlı bahis siteleri they settled into a relaxed embrace, Mac got hold of the remote and turned off the music. He said what he always said first in their aftermath: “Del treatin’ you right?”

She smiled at the stunt she had pulled on Del, but didn’t reveal it. “He is, and I’m doing the same. I wanted to check in on you. Don’t know who’s treating you, right or wrong.”

“I broke a date for you. Maybe she’ll get over it.”

“This is why I should stay out of your life.”

Mac sat up to get a bottle of Courvoisier from the nightstand. He poured for both of them. “What are we talking about?” he asked, sounding wary.

They clinked glasses, and she sipped before saying, “You ever done group sex?”

He almost spat, instead choking. She pounded his back a few times.

“Here I thought,” he wheezed, “that this was breakup sex. You’d tell me you and Del are getting hitched, having babies.”

She shook her head. “Don’t think we’re close to that. I’m sure not.”

“So anyway,” he said with a smile, “you’ve got my attention.”

“Del’s idea. Naturally.” With her free hand she fingered some of his short dreadlocks. “But I can’t get it out of my head.”

She summarized the plan as it had materialized thus far. “If I’m going to do something this weird,” she added, “I’d like you to be there. If you’re okay getting freaky with strangers.”

He patted his gut, which now had some give and wobble. “Music has me sitting on my ass too much. If you’ve got other ladies, I’ll have to blind them with my charm.”

“If they’re hot for Del, you’ll throw ’em for a loop.”

“And I’d actually meet Del, right?”

She nodded, saying nothing.

“I’d tell him what a lucky motherfucker he is.”

“I’m luckier. I’ve got you, too.”

“And you really want to do this?” he asked, looking at her with the affectionate concern they had built over the years.

“Not very much,” she said. “I could probably dig having you two spit-roast me. I’m not there yet on more people, including two women I don’t know.”

He rubbed his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Hmm, two women I don’t know? I could probably deal.”

She slapped his chest and laughed. “I hate to disappoint you, but Del’s dream might be a nonstarter for me. But if I go along, are you in?”

“It goes so well with the avant-garde lifestyle. How could I refuse?”

***

Being with Mac, and talking it over with him, reduced Corinne’s annoyance with the topic. During the next few days, she was no worse than neutral as Del drew her into more detailed discussion.

While they made dinner, Del asked, “Who are your two?”

She seized on this as a potential deal-breaker. “Do you want the right of refusal?”

“No, of course not.” He twisted the pepper grinder over the salad. “Just wondering if you’ve worked it out yet.”

“Have you?”

“I know who I’ll ask, in what order. And I trust you to choose well.”

She battered fish fillets, saying nothing for a while. Then, looking at Del, she said, “Mac would definitely be one.”

“Makes sense,” he said with a nod. She didn’t pick up any tension from him.

“Don’t know about the second,” she said.

“You seem to like this guy Luther.”

Corinne scrunched her shoulders, but smiled as she said, “Luther’s my pretty boy. On the Denzel Scale, he’s a solid nine.”

Del spread his hands. “I’ll deal with that if I have to.”

“But he’d never do this. He’s shy when we’re one-on-one. An orgy would scare him silly.” Then, deciding she’d extended too much, she said, “You notice I haven’t asked about your two.”

“I don’t mind—”

“I. Haven’t. Asked,” she repeated with emphasis. Once she was sure he’d let that go, she said, “I know who I’ll ask next.”

He nodded, as if satisfied.

The next day, in their after-sex shower, Del said, “We definitely couldn’t host it here.”

Corinne’s first impulse was to think that this would be the deal-breaker, and her second was that Del wouldn’t say this if he didn’t already have a viable alternative. She was peeved enough to say, “Or maybe anywhere.”

“Let me look into it,” he said, spreading body wash on her back with his always-sensitive touch.

After work the next day he opened on the coffee table the brochure of a local suites hotel. It showed the floor plan. Del described the facilities in detail.

Corinne said, “There have to be safe places, for everyone. We don’t know how we’ll react, we might need to be alone for a while.”

“Over here,” said Del, pointing at a corner of the plan. “Three connectable two-bedroom suites, two baths in each. The one on the end has a big common room. That’s plenty of separation, and if anyone wants to retreat solo overnight, it’s doable.”

“How many banks you gonna rob to get this?”

Del gave her his gotcha! grin. “We’ve both got loads of points from work travel,” he said. “We never use them, because we travel cheap and the point system is geared towards high-end stuff. This would be high-end. We can bring the cost of this down to the level of a single room for two nights, if we do it mid-week, and we’d still have points left over to do it again.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

What would you do?

I’d moved into the neighborhood about a year ago and had one of the two houses at the end of the cul-de-sac. I’d met the guy next door about a month later and we hit it off. I’m single and he’s married, but we both had similar interests… repairing our own cars, wood working, watching sports and we were both in the technical field. His expertise was computers and mine is machine control… two geeks.

He’d come over and we’d work on one thing or another… my tools were better than his and his entertainment system was better. After a few weeks he’d invited me over to watch a Saturday game and I met his wife. I’d seen her before and we’d waved but I hadn’t known her name and never been introduced. They were a happy couple with no kids. We were all within a few years of each other in age… but where he and I fooled ourselves into thinking we were still physically fit… she was.

I mean she had put on a few pounds… judging by photos I saw in the house… but they were all in the right places. With no kids to support she didn’t work… although I suspected that she’d rather have been working than house-sitting. I mean she kept herself busy… volunteering and maintaining the house… and yard… but contact with people was more or less limited to the people she volunteered with or for.

She was about five foot four and was still very beautiful. When we watched the games she would both sit with us… and occupy her hands with something… or she’d find something else in the house to do. She followed his sports so that she could talk about them easily enough… and knew the stats better than he did. Occasionally she’d actually get wrapped up in a game or a race and be rooting for her favorite.

I’m a strange guy… I don’t believe in encroachment. I mean I’d never try to get serious with a friend’s wife or girlfriend… or make a pass at them. There are enough ladies in the world that I can always find one if I need to. I’m not handsome… or alluring at all… but I don’t have trouble… except perhaps in finding the ‘right one’. There I seem to have failed miserably. Even so… I’m reasonably happy… and have my share of my most favorite sport… sex. Sex has always been number one with me… and I mean if they ever find a way to judge you by what goes through and passes into your mind… I’ll be arrested and confined away from civilization. My libido is too high… my sex drive too geared up… my thoughts too wild.

Case in point? If I were given a chance… and didn’t purposely restrain myself… set limits I won’t cross… I’d have propositioned my neighbor in a heartbeat. She was truly one of a kind. I’d have deliberately spent all of my time spying on her… trying to catch an image of her… a nude or partially nude image. But I hadn’t… well… almost hadn’t.

There were a couple of instances… but except for maybe one… they weren’t planned. He’d invited me over one Saturday morning… and apparently she’d been busy elsewhere and lost track of the time or something. Anyway when I knocked on the door he hollered for me to come in and make myself home while he had to run into the garage for a minute. As I came into the living room… I heard him going out the inside door to the garage.

I started walking toward the sofa… passing the main hallway to the bedrooms… when I heard a noise and turned. At the end of the hallway was the master bedroom and the door was opened. I heard her singing softly to herself… and then she walked to a closet on the opposite wall. She was totally nude… and I mean every thought I’d had of her beauty was satisfied… she was statuesque… truly perfectly proportioned with ample breasts that were self-supporting and the most beautiful ass I’d seen in a few years. She reached into the closet for a moment and then kneeled to do something… probably pick up a pair of shoes. Her cheeks spread as she kneeled and then she turned just enough sideways that I could see a breast in profile. When she stood again… the muscles in her trim illegal bahis thighs and long calves rippled in the morning sunlight.

She stood and walked at a very slight angle into the bathroom at the side… and suddenly I realized that I had been spying… and only her disappearance had brought me from the reverie. I noticed that my pants had grown tight and I adjusted myself and walked to the sofa. Needless to say… my mind that morning wasn’t on the game. He came back a few moments later, turned on the game and seated himself in his favorite recliner. She came in minutes after and brought chips and dip, something to drink and wore a sleeveless flowered sundress. She took the space at the opposite end of the sofa… and her hair was just slightly damp. Half-way through the game her hem had slid up… she was sideways on the sofa and I caught a glimpse of her… she was nude under the bottom of that sundress. We’d said hello… and she never knew.

Our backyards are surrounded and separated by high wooden fences and gates. Our garages are on opposite sides of the houses and so my kitchen looks out over their backyard and is high enough that I can see all but a small part of their yard… the part between their garage and one of their bedrooms. That spot is slightly recessed between them and not visible. I’d taken a day off from work and intended doing some catch up at home. About ten that morning it had grown warm and I shoved the stuff aside and decided to clean up the kitchen… especially the dirty dishes. I always rinse dishes and stack them in the dishwasher… but I only hit the button about twice a week. I was just getting ready to hit that button when I heard a noise next door.

I stood to the side and glanced out. She was just coming out the door in that sundress… completely unbuttoned and wearing nothing beneath. She was carrying two towels and a small bottle of lotion. It didn’t take my Sherlock Holmes’ brain to figure out what she was going to do. I watched as she walked down the steps and then abruptly disappeared into the recess around the back wall. Darn! I thought. But then I remembered… that fence is solid wood… except for one knothole… halfway back.

I’d thought of plugging that hole many times… and now I was glad that I hadn’t. It wasn’t large but it was adequate. I made my way down my own steps… quietly… and walked to that hole… and peered. She was nude and applying lotion. She was still standing and I watched her skin glisten in the sun… and then I watched her hands applying the lotion. Each breast and nipple… her shoulders and neck… her face and arms… her tummy… and then she surprised me as her hands slid between her legs… oiling… but more. I watched her pleasure herself for long moments… and then slowly continue to apply the lotion to her ass… between her cheeks… and the full length of each delicious leg. She was standing and turned each time as if she knew I was there… although she didn’t. I had a full view of everything as she turned and continued.

Finally she sat on the Chaise… her legs extended in front of her… and she began again. I really felt like a peeping Tom… and I was… but I couldn’t help myself as I recalled that Saturday morning before the game. She was a goddess in the sunlight… and I watched her climax and then she lay on top of that white towel and spread her knees and spent many minutes with ecstasy written on her face. It was the first time I’d seen a lady masturbate… but it was beautifully sensual… and I’d watch again and again… especially her.

There was a noise on the street and she heard it and sat up. She listened and then walked naked to the gate and peered through the slot at the edge of the gate. Maybe she was afraid I’d come home while she was out there, but apparently satisfied she returned and resumed. I heard her now… three different times she got vocal… and it was music to my ears. Finally she relaxed and set a timer and laid back in the sun. I’d watched and wanted to masturbate myself… but held illegal bahis siteleri off. Slowly I walked back to my kitchen and entered silently.

Sometime later he was over and we were working on his car when he commented that she frequently ran around the house nude… that he’d tried to break her of the habit for years… but she enjoyed it. I told you that I have a strong libido… so you can guess where that bit of information disappeared to.

I want you to understand… none of what I’ve told you was purposeful… or intentional. She was always a proper lady in every regard… and never once flirted with me. I was hyper observant after that first incident, and I’d have given a testicle to have seen her walking nude or partially nude through her home… or see her sunbathing again. But it hadn’t happened… but now… the rest of the story.

I really meant it when I said they were happily married… I thought so then… and do now. However things have changed.

He and I usually arrived home at about the same time every afternoon. But as I’d told you… our garages are on opposite sides of our houses. I’d arrived a few minutes early on this particular afternoon and as I passed… I noticed his car wasn’t there. I busied myself around the place for an hour and figured that he was home by then so I walked next door and knocked. She hollered out asking who was there… I answered and she told me the door was unlocked and for me to come on in.

I went in and looked around… and asked where he was… she said that she was in the kitchen and to come on out. I walked slowly to the kitchen and still didn’t see him… maybe he was in the garage. When I got to the kitchen she was busy at the sink and without turning she told me to sit down. I did and then asked if he was in the garage. She told me slowly that he wasn’t here… that he’d been called out of town this morning and would be gone for the weekend. I felt self-conscious and said I was sorry that he had to be gone… and that I hadn’t meant to bother her. I stood and was about to leave when she turned around.

She’d been crying and there were still tears in her eyes. She asked me not to go… to stay and talk for awhile. I asked if she was sure and she said yes… and took a seat at the other end of the table. She rubbed her eyes… and I asked what was wrong.

She said that she knew we talked and I shook my head. She asked if we ‘really’ talked and I asked what she meant. It was difficult but then she explained that women always talk about ‘personal’ things… about home life… and love. Then she asked if we ever talked like that. I felt a bit self-conscious but smiled and said that we never did. She started crying again and said “I’d hoped…”

I leaned closer and asked “Hoped what?” And now the tears really flowed and she told me that he’d had an affair a few years ago… and she hadn’t known about it… but his sex drive had dropped during that the time… and he’d never wanted sex. It went on she said for over a year… and then finally she’d confronted him when she found a card in his jacket. It was a nice thank you card from a lady… thanking him for the previous afternoon. The gal had slipped it into his jacket without his knowing. When she found it she was devastated and insisted on knowing what was going on.

Eventually he’d told her… broke off the affair and promised never to do anything like it again. At this point I was incredulous… she was so perfect… and so vibrant… and so interested sexually… as I recalled from that morning. She was crying now… and said that things seemed normal for the last few years… but in the last few months their sex life had zeroed out. Their Anniversary was this weekend and he wasn’t even going to be here… and she knew that he’d forgotten it.

I got up… walked over and tried to console her… finally I dropped to my knees on the floor in front of her and tried to assure her that I felt he wasn’t cheating on her. Between sobs she said that it must be her then… she canlı bahis siteleri wasn’t attractive anymore. I put my arm around her and she leaned her face into my shoulder and sobbed as I assured her that she was tremendously attractive… to any man.

She replied with a thanks and a comment that I didn’t have to lie. Lie? I assured her that I was in no way lying… she was more than attractive… sexually and every other way. She asked if personally I’d ever thought she was attractive… always I assured her. “Show me?” she asked. I told her that I couldn’t do that… that she’d hate herself tomorrow… that they were friends of mine.

She looked at me and cried even harder saying that she knew I was lying… and pushed me away. I held tight and pulled her to me. I kissed her… at first her cheek… but I couldn’t help myself and soon I was at her lips. She resisted for a few moments and then returned my kiss with more passion than I’d ever felt before.

I’m sure there are cynics out there that will say I was seduced… and I was… but not intentionally… and not by her… my own desire did it. When finally she pulled away… my hands were on the hem of her dress and I raised it slowly… watching her eyes… and then I glanced down and she was nude beneath… and I spread her thighs and buried my face. I felt her hands in my hair… and then felt her body quiver as I brought my lips in closer and kissed her mons. She was dry… not aroused as I was… as I placed my hands around her waist and pulled her to me.

I love giving oral… and love the way it provides foreplay and can stimulate a lady. Her body was beautiful… and I wanted it… more than anything else… and I didn’t care about anything but the two of us. I tasted her… and teased her… and her hands wrapped in my hair and she pulled me hard and close. I heard her cry… and thank me… and then her leg was up… and she’d slid forward to the edge of the seat and turned slightly as I raised her.

She was sweet and hot… growing wetter… and in almost no time she’d climaxed and was crying my name… as I moaned and whispered hers. I raised my head from under her skirt and slowly unbuttoned it and then opened the bodice and gazed upon perfection. Her soft tummy and firm young breasts… and her eyes were shining through her tears. I kissed each nipple and devoured her breasts. I laid my cheek against her tummy and just held her.

Finally I pulled her onto the floor with me… onto a kitchen rug… and opened my jeans… and took her there. It was perfect… she was perfect… responsive to everything… participating… helping… talking… urgent… and even as we climaxed… I was looking forward to the very next climax. Her voice rang in my ears… and then I heard her whisper my name… and then shout it as she climaxed.

I had no doubt that she’d been without sex for months… the two of us were an even match… each of us trying to wear the other out… and losing. After awhile I helped her close the house and then we went out the back door and over to my place. She brought her cell-phone in case hubby called… but she said he wouldn’t. Once at my place… we were naked… and I had the woman around my house that I’d always wanted… a gal that loved me… and sex… and nudity. We made love in every part of the house… in some areas twice… and it wasn’t just vanilla sex… although I’d have settled. We enjoyed fantasies that we’d only dreamed of… and it was all good. We spent two nights together and every daylight hour.

All of the time… not only was her body perfect… but she’d begun to realize that it wasn’t her… and I was grateful for that. Before he was due back we’d made plans. She was his wife… and would remain that way… and remain faithful until she couldn’t take more… and then she’d signal me… and I’d fix things… until next time. If he wanted sex… she would yield and provide what he wanted… first… he would come first. The three of us were great friends… and remain that way… and we’re all happy. By the way… a trip to the doctor and some tests and they found his problem… it wasn’t infidelity this time… but they couldn’t fix… only slightly reduce the problem. Now her esteem is back and she’s more beautiful than ever.

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