Ay: Ocak 2022

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Chapter Five

Friday I missed my lunch. It had been turning into a date I looked forward to. But I settled for a sandwich over the carburetor bench so I could get out early. At 4:00 I called “that’s the week, good job guys,” handed out paychecks, and locked up.

When I got home Bonnie was putting the finishing touches on her face and hair. She smiled up at me in the mirror as I walked into the bedroom where she sat at her little makeup desk, and touched her shoulder.

“Don’t fuck up my handiwork,” she said, touching my hand lightly, “and for God’s sake, wash your stinky ass.”

I laughed and headed into the bathroom. I tossed my clothes into the hamper and got into the shower. I showered and shaved, trimming my goatee to sharp lines, and ran my fingers through my curly hair.

By the time I walked out of the bathroom Bonnie was ready and she looked good. She DOES know how to make the best of what she’s got. Her great mane of auburn hair was done in a fluffy cap, not quite a country singer’s “big hair,” but enough to draw attention. A tight blouse with the top three buttons undone showed the cleavage of her small breasts with just a peek of her red WonderBra showing. The blouse was white and semi-sheer, showing off the red bra, long-sleeved with a light lace collar and lace fringe at the wrists. Her jangly bracelet, purchased on vacation once at an Indian reservation, showed turquoise in traditional blue-green but also in a striking red. Her wedding set, including the big diamond engagement ring that had taken me six years to pay for, was proudly on her finger.

A small strip of pale belly showed between the blouse and her black slacks that showed off her big hips nicely. A wide belt highlighted the flare of her hips and a vaguely triangular silver buckle pointed, suggestively, down. Spike heels with open toes, showing the bright blue polish there, completed the image.

“You look absolutely STUNNING,” I said, moving toward her.

She held up her hands, palms out, the universal “STOP” gesture.

“Nuh-uh,” she said. “This is art,” and she used her hands to gesture from head to toe, “and I do NOT want it messed up.”

I chuckled, kissed the tips of my fingers, and patted the top of her head with them.

“Come on then, wench,” I said, “let’s see if we can corrupt a widow.”

She giggled and said, “Oh goody, let’s.”

I drove across the river, to the next town. Not for Bonnie and my reputations, but for Madonna’s. We went in and I explained to the waitress that we had a third and I would be right back with her. I kissed Bonnie quickly and headed back across the river.

It was about 15 minutes to Madonna’s place and she was waiting for me like a junior high school girl on her first date.

IF that first date was to church.

She was in a full dress, a dark blue thing with a light print pattern. It buttoned to the neck and fell to the tops of her shoes. The shoes were bad in themselves, big square things.

“Ohhhhhhh no,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders and turning her to face back into the house, and giving a push.

“David?” she said.

“We’re going on a date, Madonna,” I said, starting to rummage through her closet, “not to church.”

Her closet was hopeless. I suppose I should have expected it. I couldn’t find anything even remotely interesting so I started on drawers. I went through them like I was the SWAT team working on a drug warrant.

“We have to get you to a store,” I said, chuckling as I pulled out the tight black jeans I had seen her in that first day and finding the red sweater from that day.

I crooked my finger, beckoning her, and she came as she had learned to.

I was interested to see that my fingers were not trembling at all as I started on the 30 tiny buttons that ran up the front of the dress. I got to my knees and made her hold my shoulders for balance as I untied and took the shoes off and tossed them into the corner. I stood and got her bra off as easily as the dress, my fingers perfectly steady.

When I said “arms up,” her eyes got big.

I reached out and squeezed both of her tits.

“When you’ve got it,” I said, smiling and bending to kiss her lightly, my hands still holding her boobs, “flaunt it.”

She raised her arms and I worked the red sweater on.

Standing in her panties and sweater I thought she looked spectacular.

Back on my knees, I got the jeans on her, very tight over her thin hips and ass. I crawled over to the chest of drawers, found a pair of white socks, and then put them on her along with a pair of tennis shoes so white they just had to be bleached after every use.

I was aware of how much time I had spent so I didn’t do anything with her makeup.

She stopped and looked in the full-length mirror for a second and when she turned to face me, for that instant with that smile, I saw the beautiful 18-year-old she had once been.

“I bahçelievler escort look like a whore,” she said, but she was smiling as she said it.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s see what I can get for you.”

She giggled and took my arm.

I led her to the Pontiac, a lovingly restored 1964 GTO, and held the door for her like a gentleman.

She giggled and said, “can we put the top down?”

So I worked the chrome level and pushed the button and the top whirred down. I didn’t bother with the boot.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“A place across the river,” I said, “I wouldn’t want your reputation to be damaged by being seen with a miscreant like me.”

She giggled and said, “David, my reputation has been ruined since your truck started being in my driveway at noon.”

I laughed.

“We’ll see how you feel about that in the morning,” I said.

Her eyes got big. “You’re spending the night with me?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “I told you, YOU’RE spending the night with me.”

“What,” she started and then stopped.

When I glanced over she was staring at me.

“What?” I said.

“What about your wife?” she asked.

“Let me worry about that,” I said.

“Oh my God,” she said softly.

I flashed The Grin and patted her thigh.

At the restaurant, I ran around the car and opened the door for her.

We were hand-in-hand as we walked into the dining room.

I looked around and spotted Bonnie and headed for her table. Madonna kind of looked up at me as we started across the room without a hostess to guide us. She was with me until Bonnie stood and smiled at us.

Madonna stopped and I stopped with her, holding still.

Bonnie came to us, a smile beaming. Madonna pulled her arm free and started walking away.

Bonnie grinned at me, said, “I got this,” and followed Madonna. I watched as they went through the door, wondering how it would play out. Since I had nothing else to do, I sat and ordered a beer.

A few minutes passed and I was starting to think that Bonnie had just taken Madonna home. In fact, I was looking at the menu, thinking the Surf and Turf looked pretty good for dinner by myself, when they walked back in. They weren’t exactly hand-in-hand, but they were, well, companionable.

I stood and seated Bonnie first and then Madonna, and sat between them.

“You should have warned me,” Madonna said, looking at me with a frown.

“Would you have come?” I asked.

About then the waitress appeared, breaking our conversation.

We ordered drinks. Beer for me. Screwdriver for Bonnie. And Madonna surprised me by ordering a Cadillac Margarita (“Double,” she added).

“Would you have come?” I repeated.

She hesitated. Her eyes flicked up and right as she thought. Finally, she said, “probably not.”

Bonnie reached across the table and covered Madonna’s hand with hers. “Madonna,” she said, her voice soft and her eyes serious, “we really have only one rule.”

“Oh?” Madonna said.

“Yes,” Bonnie went on, “you can always say ‘no.’ You can say ‘no’ to something specific, or you can just say ‘no’ to us and we’ll take you right home, no questions asked, no explanation necessary. We are many things, my husband and I,” she went on, giggling a little at that, “but rapist is not among them.”

“Fair enough,” Madonna said, and we all took a drink from the glasses that had just arrived.

The dinner conversation was mostly between Bonnie and Madonna. You can cut a few yards of a stock two-women-getting-to-know-each-other conversation and you’ll pretty much be there. There were some differences in details as Bonnie explained our marriage arrangement, but besides that it was a perfectly vanilla conversation. I mostly watched, enjoyed dinner, and answered the occasional question directed at me, or threw in the occasional wisecrack, making them both giggle.

Bonnie was genuinely interested, it seemed to me, in meeting a widow 25 years her senior. She asked about how Madonna was adjusting to single life (“Poorly,” she had replied). Was she getting enough support? Things like that. My wife may be a little kinky, well, all right, my wife IS a lot kinky, but she’s also a caring person.

For her part, Madonna kind of circled the question that was obviously weighing on her. Finally, as we were enjoying dessert, she got around to it. “How, well, maybe, ‘when’ is the better word. When did you and David decide that, well, that this,” and she sort of vaguely gestured to include the three of us at the table, “was okay?”

Bonnie laughed, a pleasant sound, and explained.

“Honey,” she said, covering Madonna’s hand again, “I love this man. Hell, I’m head over heels, crazy, stupid in love WITH this man (I leaned back in my chair and hooked my thumbs in imaginary suspenders, and did my best to look smug and self-satisfied). But I also bahçelievler escort bayan realized that we were getting, well let’s say we were getting ‘predictable’ in bed. So we had ‘the talk’ one night after I had made him cum three times (at that Madonna’s eyes got big). We needed variety so we made the deal. We can both, you know, play around, but there’s a couple of conditions.”

“Conditions?” Madonna asked.

Bonnie giggled and said, “yeah, conditions. No skanks, male or female. We don’t want any diseases coming home. And no secrets. We share everything.” She squeezed Madonna’s hand. “I’ve known about you since that first day.”

“I see,” Madonna said.

There was a break as she processed.

“And what do you want of me?” she asked, at last, asking Bonnie, not me.

Bonnie smiled, that smile that always made me smile back.

“Honey,” she said, “I want to share in your journey.”

Madonna smiled back.

“I think,” she said, pausing between each word, “I’d like that too.”

We finished our drinks.

“Home?” I asked the two women with me, “or dancing?”

“Oh goodness,” Madonna said, “I can’t remember the last time I danced.”

“Well, then,” I said, standing and grinning, “let’s go dancing.”

I paid the bill, left a good tip, and offered my arms, elbows bent in the classic gentleman’s pose. I left, okay, I’ll admit it, strutting a little, with a lovely woman on each arm.

The place I chose was a little roadhouse out of town, again being protective of Madonna’s reputation. Bonnie and I had been there from time to time. We weren’t exactly regulars, but we knew the place. I knew there would be a live band but playing at a volume that would allow conversation. It was, after all, a place to meet and be met.

We found a table, a minor miracle, or maybe a Sign ((chuckles)). The waitress found us and we ordered drinks. The band was playing a passable rendition of the Bobby Vinton classic “Blue Velvet” and I stood and offered my hand to Madonna.

“Come on, good lookin’,” I said.

She danced just like she had kissed that first time – poorly and awkwardly.

I gradually got her to at least do a passable box step and I liked the way she felt, molding herself to me.

The song ended and I went back to the table, not surprised to find it vacant.

I had barely seated Madonna when Bonnie was back, a much younger man, I wondered if he had a fake ID, walking her back to the table, his hand possessively on her hip.

I stood and he took a step back but I grinned and said, “no problem.”

I walked Bonnie to the floor and we danced a fast one, to Chubby Checker’s “Twist” of all things.

I caught sight of Madonna awkwardly trying to imitate what Bonnie’s young friend was doing.

We stayed a couple of hours, dancing, drinking, laughing. Each of the women had multiple partners while I switched between them. It was fun.

Finally, I said, “Ladies, you’ve worn me out, let’s go home.”

I was smart enough to call an Uber, well, actually a Lyft in our town, and we crowded into the minivan that showed up.

We were quiet on the way home. Neither of us was drunk, but we were well lit. And there was the anticipation. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t know what was going to happen when we got home.

As soon as we got in the house Bonnie put her hands on my shoulders and pushed, walking me backward until my knees met the couch and I sat.

“Wait,” she said, holding up a finger imperatively.

She turned to Madonna and crooked a finger, beckoning.

“Come with me,” she said.

I watched them walk down the hall, wondering what my bride had in mind.

I heard giggling from the other room and chuckled. I snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a beer and made it back to the couch before the women came back.

When they did, it was worth the wait. Oddly, for me, the first thing I noticed was NOT the fact that they were topless. Oh, I noticed that, but peripherally. I was fascinated by the change in their faces. Bonnie is good with makeup and the change she had made on Madonna’s face was amazing. Gone was the 70-something widow. In its place was a 70-something hooker, looking DAMN good for her age.

Then I got to the tits.

Such a perfect contrast. Bonnies were small, high, with very big, dark nipples on large darker areolas. Madonna’s were big and saggy, with very small, pale long nipples on small areolas.

I whistled and applauded.

“My new best girlfriend,” Bonnie said, “insists she has never been with a woman. Wanna watch while I show her what she’s been missing?”

I chuckled. “You know I do,” I said.

“Toldya he would,” Bonnie said, taking Madonna into her arms and kissing her.

I watched captivated. Bonnie is hardly a big woman. At 5’6″ and about 140 pounds she’s about average, pushing the high end on the weight escort bahçelievler range but certainly not obese. With her big hips and thighs, she is definitely pear-shaped, a body type made more obvious by her A-cup breasts. For a brief and wonderful year she had actually filled out a B cup and I had developed a taste for her milk while our son was on the tit. Then she had weaned him and wouldn’t let me keep nursing, so she was back down to her 34A bra. Her nipples and areolas had stayed oversized, though.

She looked big, though, when compared to Madonna. At 5’2″ and maybe a hundred pounds, Madonna was tiny. As a body type, she was the exact opposite of Bonnie. She was all boobs, her 32DD breasts sagging far down her ribs, and her small long nipples pointing at the floor. She had a hint of a dowager’s hump making me suspect some osteoporosis. Her neck was tilted at a sharp angle as she looked up to meet Bonnie’s kiss.

Bonnie’s hands were exploring Madonna’s back and Madonna had her arms around Bonnie’s neck. It was a good kiss I thought as I watched. In fact, it was a damn good kiss.

I heard whispering and giggling as Bonnie leaned down, her mouth at Madonna’s ear. And then hands got busy as they started searching with fingers at each other’s waist, finding buttons and zipper tabs, playing and giggling as they did.

I had another drink and enjoyed the show.

And it was a good show. Bonnie got to her knees to work Madonna’s tight jeans down. They both laughed loudly as Madonna almost lost her balance as Bonnie untied shoes and then removed them and the socks. Finally, with Madonna naked before her, she cupped her skinny ass in her hands and buried her face between Madonna’s legs. Madonna’s knees sagged.

When she came it was absolutely spectacular. I thought she had lost bladder control as Bonnie coughed, her mouth overflowing, but it was pure womanscent I smelled.

Bonnie, as I’ve said, is VERY good with her mouth and she brought Madonna through three more orgasms before she collapsed, spent, and I went over to help support her.

“Come on, baby,” Bonnie said to her, hooking Madonna’s arm across her shoulders for support, “I’m not nearly done with you.”

She looked at me and said, “help me get her into the bed.”

So I did, helping Madonna to bed and then sitting back in the chair by the wall to see what would happen next.

“You liked my mouth, didn’t you?” Bonnie asked Madonna.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Welllllll, ” Bonnie said, “I like mouths too.”

I knew what was coming and said, “wait a second, honey.”

I went to the bed and kissed Madonna.

“Open your mouth, sugar,” I said and when she did I took her dentures out and carried them into the bathroom where I filled a water glass and dropped them in it.

When I got back to the bedroom Bonnie was straddling Madonna’s face, her knees locked under Madonna’s shoulders. Her head was thrown back and I knew what was coming.

When she came she lifted herself, the spray of her release soaking Madonna’s hair, drenching her face. I was surprised when Madonna reached up and grabbed her hips, pulling her back down, her mouth greedily seeking more.

Bonnie lifted again, this time turning so she faced Madonna’s feet. She locked her knees under Madonna’s arms and then slowly settled. She crooked her finger, beckoning me. I undressed quickly and went to her.

And that is how we consummated our first evening with the new lady in our life. When I entered her she was beyond merely wet. She was slick, her love nectar, that natural lubricant, thick and warm. I slipped inside her and then embraced my wife, kissing her as we both took our pleasure from Madonna. And as she took hers. Her orgasm was wet and her scent powerful as she came around me and her breath bubbled as Bonnie came in her mouth again.

We took our time. We were making love over her and she was the object of pure sexual need under us. I kissed Bonnie as I came, filling Madonna to overflowing and I felt her cum once more. Madonna was writhing under us, her mouth and nose needing breath, her pussy satisfied.

We held that position, Bonnie in my arms, our lips meeting, feeling Madonna under is, her body growing more desperate for breath, the tension of panic building, until my body surrendered and I softened and slipped out.

“Up baby, let her breathe,” I whispered, holding her hands and pulling forward.

Madonna gasped like a drowning woman breaking the surface, and kept panting, paying off her oxygen debt, while we squirmed around, making her the meat in our sandwich. I kissed her, gently, tasting Bonnie’s pussy and Madonna’s sweat. When Bonnie kissed her I caressed down her body, finding the swollen labia and liking the way she jumped when I touched it.

We made love like that, the three of us, sharing kisses and caresses. Madonna said, “Thank you,” over and over, right up until she started snoring.

I grinned at Bonnie across her sleeping body and she smiled back.

“I’m looking forward to this next month,” I said.

“Me too,” she said.

We smiled at each other as we bent and each took one of Madonna’s long thin nipples into our mouth.

And that is how we went to sleep our first night with our new lady, each suckling gently on a big tit.

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

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

Author’s Note: This is a story written by me 17 years ago and posted on the Literotica site under a different pen name. I am re-posting it to allow it to live again. All sexual situations depicted in the this story occur between two legally consenting adults, 18 years of age and older.

Snow Bound: Snow Bunnies

“We were two ships who passed in the night, two strangers who happened to meet who would part in the morning never to see each other again. However the passion we shared will remain a part of us for we have shared our souls and our spirits will forever be as one.”

The above quote may sound like something out of a romance novel or some hokey saying penned by some lovesick poet. However, no matter how hokey or corny it appears, it best sums up what occurred to me just two years ago.

It was mid winter and at the height of the snow season in the small mountain community on the western coast in which I lived. The community was nestled in about 6000 feet above sea level just about an hour of the medium sized city where I worked as a senior architect. Seeing that we had just finished a grueling 6 week project and had given the presentation only this afternoon, my boss suggested I take much needed vacation. I had about two weeks coming but my boss was generous and gave me the remaining 3 work days as a bonus.

I had heard that there was a massive snow system moving in to the mountains that would dump at least a foot of snow if not more, so I decided to leave early and get home before the blizzard hit. I called Dave at the mountain store I normally traded at and told him what I wanted plus ordered a few other things to get me through this blizzard. Since I didn’t have a farm and didn’t have dairy cattle, I was determined to get as much milk and milk products I could get along with other staples plus meat and other things I could cook.

I arrived at my cabin, backed into my 25x 25 garage and unloaded the back seat of my red 4 door 4-wheel drive super duty diesel pick up. I bought the truck specifically for the mountains. I needed the 4 wheel drive for bad weather and the super duty for hauling things. My truck had a full sized cab with 4 full sized doors and a full back seat. In addition it had a full sized (6’x9′) bed with a nice spray in liner, a towing package with the ability to tow 15,000 pounds and wench to pull things and drag out trees or limbs that may get on my property or block the mountain roads.

From the garage, I walked through the enclosed breezeway to the front door of my multilevel cabin. I entered into the kitchen where I set my supplies on the counter and put them away. The next thing I did was to make sure I had plenty of wood in on the covered patio that led to the balcony and checked the propane generator located down stairs in the basement just in case the power did go out.

Lastly, I checked all the windows and doors to make sure they were securely latched for when the wind would whip during the height of the snow storm. By now, the wind was beginning to pick up as the sun was going down. I looked over the horizon and saw the storm approaching. Speaking from experience, I knew that it would be less than an hour before the storm would hit here. With provisions ready, and supplies and fuel on hand, I hunkered down for the approaching wrath of old man winter.

I went up stairs and got changed into something comfortable after taking a nice long hot shower. I put on an old pair of light gray sweat pants, a black long sleeve pull over shirt, and thick wool socks. I then brought in some wood and lit a fire in the fireplace.

As the sun went down, the snow began to fall, gently at first then harder reaching almost to an inch or two an hour. It looked ominous as I sat on my enclosed covered porch looking out as they snow whipped by and the wind whistled through the trees. After a few minutes of watching the storm, I went back inside to cook dinner. I warmed up some homemade chili I had made earlier that week and heated myself some sour dough bread in the toaster. I poured myself a cola and sat down in front of the tube to watch the weather then a movie that was supposed to come on.

About 8:30 as the wind was howling, I thought I heard a bang on from the outside, but figured it was something loose that was blowing around. However, a couple of minutes later the banging returned and became more persistent. I don’t know what made me do this, but I went to the door and check to see what it was. There is where I saw this person all bundled up and wasted no time in letting them in.

I told the person to come in sit by the fire and get warmed. From all of the clothing, I couldn’t tell whether or not it was a man or a woman or how old he or she was. I all saw was a dark blue heavy parka with a hood, what looked like dark charcoal grey(almost black) denim material pants, gloves and boots.

My first impression said “Great, just what I need. Some short middle aged bald fat computer geek or accountant kartal escort with glasses.” However when the mystery guest removed the hood from their head and pull off their winter gear, I would be in for a fairly pleasant surprise.

The first clue that I got of whether or not the person was male or female was when they removed their hood. Underneath the parka hood was a black ski mask and as it came off, a long mane of honey color blondish brown hair came out. It was long and straight and came down to the person’s shoulders. I then saw the face and it was definitely female, young and very, VERY beautiful.

The young beauty couldn’t have looked more than 19 but in reality she was 22. She had full ruby red lips, a golden tan complexion and the most beautiful crystal ice blue eyes I had ever seen along with the smile that could make the sun seem as dim as a firefly.

The sweet beauty continued to pull off her parka and removed her gloves. It was here where I would get a glimpse of her taut 5’6″ 120 pound 34C-22-32 body. Underneath her parka she had on a hunter green, ribbed wool, turtle neck sweater that clung tightly to her body and showed off every curve of 34 inch breasts. Upon closer examination, it appeared that her pants weren’t denim but some stretchy heavyweight material that looked like denim, but in fact was much, much warmer.

I don’t know why this thought went through my head, call it my carnal lustful imagination. I surmised that from the pants she was wearing she was a “shaver” meaning that she shaved her pussy. Back in college, my frat brother always gauged girls by what they wore. The ones that wore tight clingy spandex type and which were mostly blondes he said were the ones that always seemed to shave. My buddy said it was fool proof but I never paid him no mind. I just thought he was full of it.

However, as I would find out soon enough my initial perception was right. Perhaps there was something to that or perhaps it was a coincidence, who knows. That’s not important in the larger scheme of the story. Anyway she pulled off her outerwear and I told her to get by the fire to warm up.

She introduced herself as Holly and told her my name was Jason.

“Nice to meet you Jason,” Holly said with a sweet loving voice. “You know you are a real life saver,” she added and then proceeded to tell me how her car had broken down on the road about a mile and a half back. She said she walked for what seemed to be hours and saw no lights on. Just as she was ready to give up, she said she saw my cabin and decided to take a chance.

Just then, it hit me… she was drenched and was probably freezing in those wet clothes. “God, where are my manners,” I said frustratingly and apologetically. Being the gentleman that I was, I suggested she get out of those wet clothes and that I would wash and dry them. I told her that I had a loft room upstairs complete with a nice shower and that she could change into something.

She told me she left her luggage back at the car and all she had was maybe a change of underwear in her backpack. I told her not to worry, that if she wanted, I had some old clothes of my sister’s she kept around when she came to visit and she was welcomed to help herself to what ever she found. What she would do next took me by surprise. The young lady kissed me full on the lips with a long kiss and said “Thanks Jason dear, you’re a doll.”

I showed her where the bath room was and got out some fresh towels, wash rags and soap. I also got one of my long knee length white thick terry cloth robes that keeps you warm and when she was through I would show her my sister’s room where she could look through the clothes and change into something. With that I went back down stairs to cook us some hot chocolate.

As I was doing that, I heard the water go on upstairs and then I heard her on the loft landing call down. “Hey sweetie, where can I put my clothes?” “Just throw them down and I will get them later.” I replied. “Are you sure,” she added. “Yeah they’ll be fine,” I replied.

Just as I said that, I walked into the main living room thinking she would be either in her robe or back in the shower but she was neither. She was standing on the ledge in all of her naked beauty.

Her perfect, sumptuous 34C-22-32 body glistened in the light. Her breasts were so round and so firm. Her nipples were so perfect and seemed to be erect. Her legs were so very well toned like those of a dancer, and last but not least, her pussy was oh so pink oh so inviting and very much shaven. “I guess my buddy was right,” I thought to myself as I smiled and I told her that her hot chocolate would be ready when she got out.

“Here you go doll,” Holly said and threw her clothes down. “I’ll be down in a jiffy and that hot cocoa you are cooking will hit the spot. Maybe we can sit by the fire and have a glass together that would be fun. Who knows we may find other ways to entertain kartal escort bayan ourselves and keep each other warm,” she added with a naughty grin and a wink and with that turned and went into the bathroom.

It would be about 15-20 minutes until Holly would come down. I figured she was enjoying the hot shower seeing how cold it was outside. About 5 minutes before she came down, I heard the hair dryer going and knew she must have been out by now. Then a couple of minutes later, I heard the door open and footsteps as she descended from the loft walked through the living room into the kitchen where I was.

I would not be completely ready for what I would see when Holly walked in but even though I was a bit taken aback by the initial shock, I was not complaining. “So where can I put my towels sweetie,” Holly said. “Just toss them over in the hall by the laundry room and I’ll get em later,” I replied and I as I did, I turned around to a very pleasant surprise.

Holly was wearing a red satin camisole that came down to just above her navel with black lace trim on the collar, a matching satin pair of crotchless undies, red thigh high stockings and a matching garter belt. On top of her camisole, she was wearing matching colored waist length see through lace robe. It was unbuttoned and you could see everything. The camisole was low cut and showed an ample amount of cleavage and she had on a perfume that was intoxicating to the smell. When I asked her what it was, she told me it was called “Temptation’s Desire.”

Holly had a seat on the couch and placed herself in a seductive position. Her back was against the arm rest, her left leg was on the floor and her right leg was bent at a 90 degree angle so that her foot was up against the knee of her left leg. Her right arm was across the back of the couch like she was ready to hug someone and her left hand was outside her camisole gently running along the edges of her neck line.

Taking her right hand, she placed it on the sofa next to her and patted the cushion as if to say “Join me.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was up to and I was no prude either, so I played into her hand and made my way next to her with the tray of hot chocolate.

I sat next to Holly and she put her hand on the back of my head and began softly scratching the base of my skull as she caressed me. She took the mug of hot chocolate and drank some then placed it on the coffee table on top of the coaster. “Thanks a bunch baby, you’re a real angel,” Holly said softly and with that she gave me a kiss.

This would be no ordinary “thank-you” gratuitous peck on the cheek like I would have expected. Instead, it was a full blown kiss straight on the lips, not lasting for a few seconds, but lasting nearly one-half a minute. Not only was the kiss long, but it was intense, deep, and probing. I felt Holly’s tongue insert itself into my mouth and probe its way around.

Not being an idiot, I responded in like manner, inserting my tongue into Holly’s mouth and probing. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity but was only 30 seconds. When the kiss was over, we both knew the ice had been broken and there was no turning back.

After the kiss was over, Holly took the bag of marshmallows from the tray. I had brought in along with a wooden skewer that was lying on the tray and she went over and sat in front of the fire. She began roasting marshmallows and thoroughly enjoying it. She beckoned for me to come over and I did and we sat for about the next 10-15 minutes roasting marshmallows and having fun.

“This reminds me of being a little girl, “Holly said with a sweet child like voice in a big contented smile. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to those innocent days to be a kid again and not have the responsibilities that I face.” Holly went on to tell me that she was in the service as an RN and she was being shipped overseas in less than a week.

Her and a bunch or nursing buddies were going to the mountains with a bunch of guys for a “going away party.” She confessed that it was a last blow out and they all intended to get laid at least once before being shipped out. “It was to be our last hurrah before we went on our 21 month tour of duty in the middle east and our last time to get laid. You know how strict those countries are and we wouldn’t be getting any for a long time and I was bound and determined to lose my cherry before I went. Thank heavens I ran into you or I might have either been dead or worse yet gone over seas a virgin.”

If it wasn’t evident by now, there was no questions what Holly’s intentions were. She was wanting to get laid. She told me that her dream was to do it in a mountain cabin in front of a fire place with snow falling outside. “When I came upon your cabin saw you, I knew you were the one to give myself to,” Holly added. “I don’t know how, but fate led me here and told me that you were the one. Call it corny,” she added, “but escort kartal it’s the God Honest truth.”

I must confess that Holly wasn’t the first I had fucked in this cabin in front of the fireplace. Many a winter’s night I had ladies up here. I was known for being quiet a lady killer. As far as I was concerned I was having too much fun to settle down. At age 35, I still had lots of wild oats to sew and plenty of women to sew them with.

Age or marital status was really not an issue. I had fucked them as young as 18 and old as 45 and even one 50 year old who you would have sworn was in her late 30’s tops. Some were single, some were married, it didn’t matter to me. The older married ones were the most fun and were lots of times the most adventurous.

Just call me a horndog in heat, but hey they all knew it going in and knew my reputation as a ladies man and still kept coming back. All most of them wanted was to be held in my strong arms and to feel my firm well toned muscular 6’1″ 185 pound body next to theirs’, and to feel my massive nine inch tool go in and out of their hungry pussies as I would fill them with my manhood.

Anyway, back to the story. Being somewhat of a romantic and knowing that ladies like to be wined and dined, I told Holly to make herself comfortable while I went to get some things. My first stop was downstairs to my wine cooler to get a bottle of Chardonnay. I also got two frosted glasses, a cork screw and a bucket of ice. I put the wine and the glasses in the ice to keep them cool. I set all of those items on the cart when I reached upstairs in the kitchen.

My next stop was in the kitchen where I got out some whip cream, cheese cubes, grapes, strawberries, Maraschino cherries(the light red kind you find in drinks) and beef stick cubes. I also got some plates, honey, a honey dipper and a thing of napkins and placed them on the cart on the second shelf. My last thing to get was a bowl of warm water and washrag and with all of these items, I wheeled the cart into the living room to where Holly was waiting for me sprawled out in front of the fire place ready to “have some fun.”

When I got back into the living room, I noticed that Holly had taken off the camisole and was laying back one her elbows with her lace robe open and her breasts fully exposed. “Mmmmm,” what’s ya got there hun,” she said with wicked grin “Looks like we got party favors, and oooooh whip cream, you naughty little boy you.” I handed her a frosted glass and poured her some wine, followed by myself. We both took a sip and then took turns giving each other a sip as we crossed glasses and toasted again.

After drinking the wine, I got out the cheese, fruit, and whipped cream. This would be the beginning of the foreplay that would lead to a night of intense passion and hot sweet monkey love. We took turns feeding each other the grapes and cheese then Holly put some in her mouth and fed them to me as we kissed.

After a few times of doing this, Holly slyly said “You must be getting awfully warm in all of those clothes. Why don’t you get a bit more comfy,” and with that she removed my shirt exposing my bare muscular well toned chest and arms and my wash-board abs.

She also pulled off my sweat pants revealing my already pulsating 9 inch cock. Holly cooed with delight as she surveyed my body and I could tell she was definitely turned on. She ran her hands over my body and afterwards, she would make her move into sensual foreplay.

Holly took another sip of wine and then reached for the whip cream and the strawberries. She first put whipped cream on one and then bit into it and gave me the other half and we shared a couple of strawberries that way. Holly then proceeded to “play” with the food in a very sensual way.

The first thing she did was to lustfully say “God it’s awful warm in here,” and remove her lace robe and panties so that she was wearing nothing but her stockings. She then took the whip cream, sprayed a little on both of her breasts and placed a strawberry on each one of them. Then with a playful mock little girl voice she said “Uh-oh, Holly made a boo-boo and got food on her.”

She leaned back on her elbows with the legs partly spread and seductively posed herself and said “Holly need help cleaning,” in a sweet little girl voice and a playfully naughty look as she put her finger at the corner of her mouth and cocked her head and turned it side to side. Playing these games were fun and I knew where she was going with it so I went along and added a little to it myself.

“Hmmm,” I replied. “Looks like daddy is going to have to clean his little angel.” I first went down on Holly’s left breasts and put my teeth on the strawberry. Taking it by my teeth, I placed it in my mouth and ate it and did the same with the right side strawberry. I then placed my tongue to her nipples and licked off the cream from the each of her breasts and made sure that there was no cream in the center of her chest by running my tongue up and down her cleavage.

However, I was not convinced that that would be a thorough enough job so I spent the next 10-15 minutes “examining” every inch of Holly’s supple breast with my tongue and mouth to “make sure.” I first ran my tongue around her pink swollen nipples gently caressing them and softly kissing them.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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I am not Spanish. I am bored of being asked. Actually I come from Sunderland as do my parents and their parents before them. It is simply my misfortune to have been conceived on the Costa Brava. They thought it would be smart and cool to call me Juan. It ruined my childhood and made me the shy introverted young man I turned into. My schooldays were something of a romantic desert.

University turned out to be a whole lot better. I managed to get a place at the University of B…. through the clearing system, reading Political Philosophy. Which made me too late to get into one of the halls, relegating me to a dingy room in the house of Enid Strauss. Before you start getting excited, no I didn’t end up rummaging through her laundry basket and discovering exotic lingerie and losing my virginity to a mature landlady. That is someone else’s story.

But I do owe a big thankyou to Enid. It happened two and a half weeks after the start of term. I hadn’t managed to pull during fresher’s week and had not really managed to make any friends on my course, which was 75% male. Friday evening found me studying in my room preparing for my second Communism tutorial. Enid’s suggestion that I joined her for a glass of wine in her sitting room was very welcome and I did flirt with the mature landlady fantasy, despite her rather plain appearance and a forty year age gap. That is how desperate and fed up I was.

We made small talk about this and that but I guess you aren’t very interested in all that. The important thing for this story is that Enid recognised how pissed off I was and diagnosed the cause without a lot of difficulty. “You don’t have a girlfriend do you Juan? And Uni hasn’t proved to be as sexually exciting as you hoped it would be? Which I find surprising given where you are. You do know that there are 7 girls studying here for every 3 boys?”

I didn’t as it happened. Everyone had told me how there would be loads of girls at Uni but that wasn’t what I found. My course was mostly boys, men I suppose I should call us now we were eighteen and the women on the course were either distant or not my type or actively anti-men. And the Ornithology and Numismatics Societies were much the same.

“That may be the case in the Politics department but it’s not like that in English, History, Sociology, Art History where this Uni concentrates. And you maybe need to be a little less nerdy in your choice of societies. Mixing in the right circles, and refreshing your wardrobe, should improve your chance of getting laid no end. You might even find someone you want a real relationship with. But I guess that just at the moment having sex is what you really need.” Enid clearly wasn’t a lady to pull her punches. “What sort of girl do you fantasise about? Blond? Asian? Tall? Cuddly? “

Not the sort of conversation I was used to having. Certainly not with women in their sixties.

“Blond I guess, or brunette, or redhead. English I suppose. I’ve never really imagined going with a black girl. Not that I’m prejudiced of course. It’s just…”

“That you fantasise about what you see but can’t touch. That’s normal. But don’t rule out women from other countries. I certainly never turned foreign men away when I was more active than I am now.”

An interesting choice of words. Clearly Enid had not given up entirely on sex, though I hadn’t seen any men in the house since I moved in. “It’s not as if I have a choice, Enid. I simply don’t meet any women, from anywhere, who are interested in me. My fantasy woman is tall with fabulous legs and loads of sexy undies but right now I just want to get in someone’s bed and…”

“Lose your virginity. You are still a virgin right? Have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you have any sexual experience at all?” I hung my head in embarrassment. “I thought not. We are going to change that. You are going to have a great time over the next three years, I promise you.” The ridiculous landlady fantasy floated before my eyes and I stared at her. At her tits actually. “Not with me Juan, don’t be ridiculous, I could be your granny.”

Whoops. Busted. “I wasn’t suggesting that. Sorry. I think there are two problems. One is that I don’t meet any women who seem interested and the other is that I have no experience in what to do if I do meet someone.”

“In this town? It should be easy. The shortage of men in the university means that lots of the young men from the town get hoovered up by University girls away from home for the first time and anxious to spread their wings.” By which I think she meant spread their legs. “Lots of young women your age are just as horny as you are you know. They see Uni as a place to find a boyfriend and the lads from town know that full well.” Which simply increased my pessimism at my own chances. “Don’t look so glum Juan. That means there are lots of local girls going without. Girls who are annoyed at the University women and pissed off at their former schoolmates for dumping them for more glamorous pickings on campus. Lots mecidiyeköy escort of them would jump at the chance of a bright young man like you. To jump into bed with you. You are going to have fun Juan I promise.”

At Enid’s suggestion and wearing a brand new shirt a good deal better than the rest of my limited selection I found myself sitting in the corner of the Wagon and Horses on Castle Street early on a Friday evening. It was my third visit. Enid was right. There were a lot of local girls in there. Some sixth formers from the High School, showing off their shiny new ID cards, lots of woman from the biscuit factory and the big store on the corner and plenty of others from who knows where. We men were certainly in a minority. But being in a big room full of interesting women is still a long way from actually having any sexual activity with anyone. My clumsy attempts at chat up lines on the first two evenings had got me nowhere.

I went back to the bar for another pint. “Have you been stood up again? This is the third time this week isn’t it that you have been in here and ended up looking miserable.” What a very observant barmaid. What a lovely pair of pointy tits. My under-used pole gave a little involuntary twitch.

“Uh, uhm. No not exactly I wasn’t here to meet someone. Uhm, I hadn’t made any arrangements to meet anyone. I, uhm, was just here having a drink.”

“By yourself. And hoping to meet someone? But you’re not having a lot of luck are you sweetheart?”. Was she trying to chat me up? What could a women with such a sexy cleavage and a black bra possibly want with me? “I’m up here, if you can take your eyes off my tits”.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean, uhm……”

“It’s all right, sonny. You’re not the first man to talk to my chest, and you won’t be the last. But don’t go getting any ideas.” Which dampened the twitching rather. “You’re not going to get anywhere sitting in the corner all by yourself. If you want my advice you should come and sit up here at the bar. And maybe put your book away!”

I took Margaret’s advice. Good advice as it turned out. A constant stream of young women came up to the bar and Margaret drew me into the little bar conversations. One of which turned into a moan about the friend of a girl called Sally who had just been dumped by her shit of a boyfriend who had started screwing ‘some tart up at that bloody teacher training college’ and had nobody to take to her work’s barbeque the next day.

“Is she looking for volunteers?” I couldn’t believe my own ears. Was that really me talking? I’ve become so desperate I’m now trying to get blind dates with someone I know absolutely nothing about. Margaret laughed out loud.

“I’m not sure if you’re Mia’s type. But come over and meet her. You never know. She’s getting a bit desperate.”

“Don’t be mean Sally. Juan is a nice boy. He’s just a bit shy. I’m sure Mia would like him. And I know he would like Mia. She’s got even nicer tits than I have.”

“Juan? You don’t look very Spanish. I’ve never made a Spanish Geordie before.”

“I’m not a Geordie. I’m from Sunderland”

“Like that makes any difference. Do you want to come and meet Mia or not?”

So I paid for Sally’s drinks and walked across with her to a table with five biscuit makers.

“Girls, this is Geordie Juan. Margaret says he’s a bit lonely and might be persuaded to take Mia tomorrow. Some Juan to take your mind off Tommy eh Mia?.”

“I’m not sure I want to go. Why would I want to take some strange Geordie you’ve just picked up?”. She turned from Sally to me. “And what sort of name is Juan? Are you from the University? What are you doing slumming it down in the Wagon posh boy?”

“I don’t get called posh very often. It seems a nice enough pub. But I hear you need an escort tomorrow. ” I have no idea if she is a nice girl or interested in me but Margaret was right about her breasts. Quantity and Quality. Not that I’m an expert in such things but they could fill my fantasy just as well as they filled her jumper.

“An escort?!?” Everybody laughed. “I’m not paying for some posh escort boy”. This wasn’t going very well.

“Don’t be a prat Mia. That wasn’t what the boy meant and you know it. Can’t you see he’s a bit shy? You’re not very experienced with women are you Juan? My embarrassed look caused much merriment around the table but the ice was broken and I spent the rest of the evening getting drunker and drunker and getting teased mercilessly about almost everything I said.

To my surprise, at the end of the evening, Mia kissed me on the cheek “So you’ll pick me up around half eleven tomorrow then. Ready to ‘escort’ me to the barbie? See you then. Don’t be late”. And she left. Just like that. I had a date with a biscuit packer. Who knows what tomorrow might bring.

Enid was pleased. “See, I knew you could meet someone.”

Given who I am, and what I hoped might come of the day, you will not be surprised to know that mecidiyeköy escort bayan I was outside Mia’s flat at 11.25 prompt. Dressed in what I hoped would be right for a company barbeque. A bit of a funny time of year for a barbeque, a bit optimistic and not really shorts and tee shirt weather. So when Mia opened the door I was a little surprised. She looked super. A summery skirt and a little cropped top. Not that I could tell you what colour or pattern they were. The top showed off her biggest feature. There are said to be tit men and leg men. Me, I’m a horny 18 year old and anything sexy top or bottom turns me on. Mia had a lot up top and her choice of clothing showed it off in the most overt sort of way. My assessment was there was no bra underneath and that she had big sticking out nipples. Which gave me big sticking out trousers.

“Hi, come in. I see you like my tits then”. My embarrassed stuttering did not cause her to stop. “I knew you liked them yesterday but you are going to have to learn not to stare. Come on through”. She was no less direct once we were in the living room and she had sat me down. “It’s lovely that you like me Juan but if you are going to pretend to be my boyfriend tonight you are going to have to stop looking at me like a hungry boy pressed against the bakery window. The way you looked at me just now was if you had never seen a grown woman before. And I wasn’t even naked.”

“Tonight? I thought we were off to a barbeque?” Quite rational thoughts really, considering that most of my mind was occupied with conjuring up images of a naked Mia. How good would that be.

“At this time of year? Yeah, tonight. It’s not really a barbeque. It was supposed to be but it got called off because of lockdown so we are having a dinner tonight but it’s still called the barbeque. You’re not really dressed for it. I hope you have a bag in the car?”

“Uuhm, actually I don’t actually, er, have a car. I walked down from Enid’s, that’s where I’m lodging and, uhm, I don’t have any other clothes with me. Shall I go back and change?”

“Yeah, like, you’re going to have to. You can’t go looking like that. But we can do that later. First we need to get to know each other. Remember you’re pretending to be my boyfriend. I don’t want people thinking I’ve only just met you. Even though I have. And you can’t look as if we are strangers. No tongue hanging out as if you’ve just met me. We’re supposed to be a couple. And couples know what the other’s body looks like.”

And how was I supposed to do that? I thought her body looked fantastic. I’d love to know what it actually looked like. You know, naked. “And how am I going to pretend that?”

“Who said anything about pretending? Let’s start with these shall we? I know you want to see them. You probably played with yourself thinking about them last night didn’t you?” With which she stood up and pulled her top over her head. I was right. There was no bra. Just the loveliest pair of huge tits I had ever seen. With big dark rings — aurie something right? And real life nipples pointing at me. Let’s be honest. The only breasts I had actually seen in the flesh. So much lovelier than in pictures or videos. “You like them then? Put your tongue back in. There’ll be plenty of time for that. You can touch them though. That’s what boyfriends do.”

Really? Did she just say that I could feel her breasts? I reached out and stroked from her left shoulder down across that wonderful smooth soft flesh letting my fingertips graze her nipple and cupped one breast in my hand. I had been longing for such a moment for years. So many nights and mornings since I was thirteen tossing myself off and fantasising about naked women and at last, long, long last I had a real woman’s body in my hands.

“Not so rough, Juan. Your first little stroke was great but don’t squeeze them like that. You’re not wringing out a sponge. My girls expect to be treated better than that. You should know that if you’re going to be my boyfriend.”

“Sorry. Actually shouldn’t we kiss before I play with your body?. Not that I don’t want to play with your body. It’s just that, normally, you know, people… “

“Come here you daft boy.” Her arms draped around my neck and we kissed. Proper lovers kisses. Deep and playful. Hungry. Impatient, lustful kissing. I wanted her so much but the strange thing was she seemed to want me too. She pressed against me, rubbing those wonderful breasts into me as my hands ran up and down her bare back. “You haven’t been here with a lot of girls have you Juan? Normally I would go a bit slower with a new man but we have a lot of ground to cover before we present you tonight as my man. Just stand back for a minute will you.”

I stepped back. Reluctant to take my lips and my hands off her but standing looking at her half naked figure was no great hardship. I had already fallen in lust with her. Gazing straight at me, and with a big naughty smile, she reached escort mecidiyeköy down, undid a button and let her skirt fall to the ground. Do they make panties any smaller? A black shoelace around her waist and a tiny triangle of semi transparent black with bushy black curls pushing out from either side. I had not imagined my cock could get any bigger but it throbbed with new heights of excitement as I looked at what was being offered to me. Real life pussy.

“What a big boy you have there. Time you took some clothes off too. Assuming you want to carry on?” Damn right I did. Carry On Juan. The sexiest film yet in the series. I hoped. Actually, the way things were going I more than hoped, I sort of expected. This wasn’t going to stop here. It better hadn’t. What did my mother say ‘more haste less speed’. I couldn’t get my shirt off fast enough. Bloody buttons. “Maybe take your socks off before your trousers. Has nobody told you how ridiculous men look in socks but no trousers?” Of course they hadn’t. This was the first time I had undressed in front of a girl.

With me down to my underpants and her in her tiny little knickers she smiled and beckoned me with a crook of her finger to follow. As she turned my excitement went up yet another notch. Which I would not have thought possible but the little black shoelace simply went down between her cheeks and showed off her gorgeous bum to perfection. And follow I did. Into her room, onto her bed, into her waiting arms. My pants came off before hers did, the kissing resumed and my fingers slipped inside those tiny little panties and into her furry moist little slit. Everything had ever dreamed of and more. Her hand wrapped around the Don felt exquisite.

“Come on my little virgin. Let’s get you inside before you burst. You’re not going to last long are……Oh. Whoops.” Bugger. Bugger bugger bugger. Spunk all over her panties and into her curls. A great big sticky mess. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first to fall before the first fence.. I hope you’ve got more in the tank though. ” I hoped so too. And with a couple of minutes passionate kissing and some firm strokes of the Don by her obviously experienced fingers he was back to full vigour. “Now, shall we go just a bit slower?

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that… ” This wasn’t how I had imagined it would be. “I didn’t mean to..you know…”

“Come so fast? Don’t worry about it. Juan. Just enjoy it. There are men who love to spurt over a girl. Some of them even pay for the privilege”

What! “You don’t mean, you’re not…?”

“No Juan, I’m not a hooker. Just understand there are men who pay for the privilege of what you just did by accident. You really are a bit of a naïve virgin aren’t you. Don’t worry about it. I love fucking virgins you know. I like to be the one in charge, to be the teacher. I don’t like cocky guys who think they’re God’s gift and I should be grateful to them. I do like you though. You seem to appreciate me.”

“Appreciate you? I think you’re wonderful. You are…. Gorgeous”

“There’s no need to overdo it! A horny boy like you would think anyone who let them fuck her is gorgeous. Not that I’m not a goddess though. But you are very horny little boy, and I think you are ready for a second go. Now take it slower. Just rest your boy here. Yeah, just here. Do you like that. A bit sticky though but who cares. Oooh yeah. Keep doing that. Yeah. That feels good lover boy. But if you want to go in you have to move back a bit, that’s right. And there you are.”

That feeling. I wish every time I had sex it felt like that glorious moment. The first time the swollen head of my Don slipped into a warm wet welcoming pussy and felt Mia’s muscles resist then relax and suck me deep inside her. The feel of my body, my balls, resting against her bush and the excited thrusting bouncing pistoning joy of feeling the inside of a woman for the first time. Not that sex isn’t always fun ( well, almost always) but that first time was special, an ever to be remembered moment. I had no particular idea of what I was doing that afternoon, just raw instinct, lust and copying porn films but Mia’s sighs and little moans and then the crude grunting as she screamed out “fill my cunt you dirty little man.. Inside me this time. Oh Christ yes, there, there. Uuuhh. Aaaaahh” made me think I’d got something right. Or she was just being charitable. Frankly I don’t care. I certainly managed to come a second time. A virgin no longer.

The dinner didn’t start until seven but by the time we had lain talking, showered (and that took a while squeezed in together) and rushed to Enid’s to get me some smarter clothes we only just made it. Before we went in Mia got all serious. “You’re my boyfriend, right. The girls who were at the Wagon last night know I’ve only just met you but they’re my mates. But as far as anyone else is concerned we met just after you arrived in town and have been going out for a few weeks. So no looking as if you only got to know me this afternoon. I know you did, properly got to know me haha, but please don’t let on. But we are just pretending. You do know that don’t you? You may have had your way with me but that doesn’t make you my boyfriend. We just want people to think that. And don’t look so disappointed. Me and Princess haven’t finished with your education yet, so don’t get all pissed and limp on me.”

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

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

Remember that time you were on holiday? You were on a shoot, and it was sunny humid and very warm. Even when you weren’t shooting you spent your time in a bikini. Nothing special or fancy, just cool and comfortable. At the bar one day you met a boy and flirted with him. He bought you a drink and finished it for you when the alcohol proved too strong. He was charming and delightful with smooth skin the colour of caramel from the sun. He was such good company and then you met his brother, a huge hulk with dark hair with coal black eyes staring out from under thick black eyebrows.

Your shoot was over, so you had much time to yourself. You spent long evenings dancing and laughing with the brothers. Breathless at the way the boy, Victor made you smile and laugh. And dizzy when his brother Vadim held your entire lower back when you danced. Then one evening you went back to the brothers’ bungalow. When you entered you were shocked, and you shivered when Vadim embraced you from behind and kissed your neck. His huge shoulders wrapped around you like a blanket. You looked at Victor. His cock was tenting the front of his linen trousers and you were overcome by curiosity and hooked your thumbs inside his waistband and pulled them down to his ankles.

The smell of man was in the air, heady and salty like the sea. It was a pretty cock, not huge but it would take both of your delicate hands to cover it. Overwhelmed, you bent at your waist and took the head into your mouth. Your pelvis tightened and that first taste and felt a splash of wetness erupt between your legs. Vadim felt your moisture as well. You moaned around the head of Victor’s cock when you felt one of Vadim’s huge fingers invade your pussy. Spurred on by the intrusion you sucked almost the entire length of Victor’s cock into your mouth and the top of your throat

You tilted your hips and pushed back making sure Vadim’s meaty fingers were enveloped by your entire sex. You grasped Victor’s smooth cock with one hand and licked the underside all the way up to the tip of his glans. You ran your tongue along the firm cavernosum and let it skip over the veins crisscrossing his cock skin.

Your moans came faster as you humped your hips onto Vadim’s hand. You heard Victor gasp as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock and you looked ümraniye escort up with a wanton smile as you watched him throw his sandy-haired head back and tauten his abs. Electricity shot up your spine and down your legs as Vadim’s fingers graze your clitoris and g-spot at the same time. Overtaken by desire you thrusted your mouth forward onto Victor’s cock. His head slammed into the back of your throat, and you nearly gagged. Even though tears were streaming down your face, the impacts got easier to take over and over again. Normally Victor was the type of boy who would hold the sides of your head to fuck your face more assertively, but the ecstasy he was in with your mouth fucking his dick all he could do is lean back on his hands. Your mouth which was little more than another pussy at this point had Victor quaking. Faster and faster your head pumped back and forth on his member making wet guttural and percussive noises, Guk-Guk-Guk!

You let out a sorrowful moan when Vadim withdrew his huge fingers from your sex. The sudden emptiness making you ache almost mournfully. Then you felt him grip your waist…His thumbs tips touched together over the small of your back. His palms squeezed around the top of your hip bones and his fingers met on the surface of your stomach right below your belly button. Your mind reeled when it occurred to you his mammoth hands wrapped around your waist completely.

The thought disoriented you so much you stopped mid-thrust on Victor’s cock and forgot about the painful void in your vagina left by Vadim’s fingers leaving you. That thought of emptiness fled immediately when you felt the head of Vadim’s cock push against your outer pussy lips. The pressure was immense as you felt first your outer and then inner lips move around his girth. You felt a bit uneasy as you sensed your pussy was stretching and stretching to accommodate him. You pulled back on Victor only leaving his cock head resting on your tongue. You breathed deeply to relax, and the fullness kept increasing. It felt as though Vadim was trying to force an apple bottom first into your sex. Another deep breath and you realised it was NO APPLE; Vadim’s hands were both around your waist. Your lips drew back across your teeth as you began to pant. It was then you escort ümraniye felt the front of your vagina snap and lock around Vadim’s cock head as he entered you fully.

You cried out in pain, ecstasy, and shock. You slapped down on Victor’s flanks with your hands and that slap thundered in your ears. Victor groaned in pain and his groan turned to a moan as you closed your mouth around him and sucked with an intensity equal to the fullness at entrance of your pussy. Then Vadim made his first thrust…. His cock surged forward into you and kept filling you. Every ridge, bump and vein on his member traced hard lines on your inner walls. The thrust was explosive, hard and fast you blew out two lungsful of air around Victor when Vadim’s head hit your cervix and his flanks spanked against your ass.

The impact drove you forward onto Victors full length. Your nose was shoved into his pubic hair and suddenly it felt like you were trying to swallow him whole. The intensity of sensation was so great your legs collapsed completely…. But you did not fall. Vadim’s immense grasp around your waist not only supported you but lifted you off your feet. You lifted your right arm and put your forearm across Victor’s belly to support yourself and pushed your mouth back just enough to catch your breath. It felt like your insides were falling out as Vadim withdrew nearly his entire length

Only the huge knob of his head was left inside you and then he thrusted again. Once again you deepthroated Victor as a tidal wave of flesh filled your pussy. Slowly a rhythm developed, and you were just able to catch breaths in between thrusts. You became a tunnel of pleasure wrapping and hugging these two poles of meat. Vadim slipped the pad of his ring finger down to your hooded clitoris and pressed it hard.

The sheer volume of sensation in you rocketed spaceward. You felt a warm splash on the inside of your thighs, and you realised you had pissed yourself. It happened because of the huge pressure the beast fucking you was exerting inside and outside of your body. You should have been ashamed. You were a normal girl who had become a plaything who soiled herself. You were nothing, nothing but pure pleasure embodied. At the hands of these brutes, you were ecstasy personified. ümraniye escort bayan The briny flavour of cock in your mouth and the heady musk filling your nostrils and the pounding pleasure inside your pussy made all thought of propriety peel away.

You felt Victor swell in your throat and sensed his balls tighten around your chin.

And you thought, “bigger? How?” A rolling wave began in your abdomen. Sharp sparks appeared before your eyes every time Vadim mashed his fingers down on your clit. Your body seized. Your mind slipped outside of you and your muscles throughout you shot tight like piano strings. Between the thumping in your throat and the slapping of your ass, you heard the popping of your toes as they tried to bury themselves in the soles of your feet. A wail starts from your diaphragm. A scream powerful enough to crush you was building inside. It only escaped in bursts as and when Victor’s cockhead cleared your throat. You felt his cock spring against your soft pallet, and you knew he was about to cum. You abandoned thoughts of dragging him out of your mouth to spray your face or bouncing tits or perhaps your sweaty back or wet hair. You knew he was going to cream inside your head and you surrendered.

Your orgasm tore through your body like a volcano renting fissures through the Earth. Victor came a moment before you scream and jet after jet filled every nook of your mouth and throat. He withdrew the and when he did the scream that escaped you forced his cum out of your mouth and nose and splashed it across his abs.

Vadim grunted and his first load spilled out around his cock and coated your pussy lips. He pulled his cock out of you and it brought a weak moan from your lips. He thumped his cock head down on your asshole and a second rope of cum shot from Vadim’s cock and splatted down on your back. At that point you were barely conscious, and you felt your body float to the floor. You were turned over and you stared up at two grinning faces framed by shaggy hair and haloed angelically buy the intense lights above.

You woke up a bed, not yours, smelling of orange and bergamot. Your hair was smooth and soft and smelled of argan and coconut. There was no tell-tale stickiness of cum or sweat just a smooth sheen to expose the debauchery earlier. You sat up and saw a note at the foot of the bed under a spray of orchid.

You Fell asleep and you were a bit of a mess, so we gave you a bath and a little massage. Vadim filmed it so you have proof we were Gentlemen. With love V&V

You smiled and looked down at your phone, then you picked it up and flipped to your recents with a huge smile.

FIN

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Manu and I would like to thank all the authors who submitted during the month, and all the other months for that matter! We’ve tallied the reader’s votes, and are happy to announce the winners of November 2021’s Reader’s Choice Awards.

First Place ($150 Cash Prize Winner):
The Twelve Zenati Pt. 40 by xelliebabex

Second Place ($100 Cash Prize Winner):
Surefoot 71: The End by Surefoot

Third Place ($75 Cash Prize Winner):
Prussian Blue by Thefireflies

Around the middle of every month, we tally up the votes from stories submitted during the previous month. The story in each category the best voting score compared to all other stories with fifty (50) or more votes submitted that month is automatically eligible for the 2021 Literotica Author Awards voting.

At the end of the year, we will have 12 nominees in each category. The 4 stories in each category with the best voting scores tuzla escort at the end of the year will go on to the final voting. One will be selected in each category as the top story for 2021.

Congratulations to the authors below, whose stories were ranked top in their category for the month. These are November’s eligible works.

*
STORY NOMINEES

Anal – Schoolgirl Uniform; Mandy by PrevertedMe
Audio – A Busy Night at the Switchboard by BrittanyBabbles
BDSM – The Twelve Zenati Pt. 40 by xelliebabex
Celebrities & Fan Fiction – Surefoot 71: The End by Surefoot
Erotic Couplings – Senior Year Memories Ch. 33 by aimingtomisbehave33
Erotic Horror – Widow’s Welcome by Snekguy
Exhibitionist & Voyeur – Naked Attraction by shygeek
Fetish – Golden Bukkake tuzla escort bayan Beach by Sams_Island
First Time – The Witches of Huntington by Frankenstein1962
Gay Male – Naked Yoga for Men by rowingbigboy
Group Sex – The Big Tits Club Ch. 51-52 by bluedragonauthor
How To – How to Fuck Without Saying ‘Fuck’ by Trionyx
Humor & Satire – White Castle Christmas by MelissaBaby
Illustrated – Different Women of the Manor by HeyAll
Incest/Taboo – The Cunning Linguist by nikki_2021
Interracial Love – Fulfilling Your Asian Fetish by sluttykimiko
Lesbian Sex – Hoff and Hols, a Romance Ch. 17 by Pixiehoff
Letters & Transcripts – Dear Steve: I Just Fucked Your Wife by windar
Loving Wives – Flash 04: OJT, Part 02 by saddletramp1956
Mature escort tuzla – Selfish Love by MsCherylTerra
Mind Control – The Cursed Tattoo Pt. 10 by FacetiousTales
Non-Erotic – Let it Be by NYSwede
NonConsent/Reluctance – Ryne by gabthewriter
NonHuman – Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 76 by writerannabelle
Novels and Novellas – The Adventures of Ranger Ramona Ch. 02 by MelissaBaby
Romance – Prussian Blue by Thefireflies
Sci-Fi & Fantasy – The Keeper Ch. 38-41 by CharlyYoung
Toys & Masturbation – Mutual Masturbation Pt. 02 by martin_shecter1971
Transgender & Crossdresser – Ambiramus Ch. 02 by UltimateSin
*
POETRY NOMINEES

Erotic Poetry – Hands – 1 by Maydaypilot
Non-Erotic Poetry – If this is farewell by Pixiehoff
*
ART NOMINEES

Adult Comics – Mom’s College Visit by AndisTaboo
Erotic Art – Nala Fitness! by dreamsketchmaker

* * * * *

A huge thank-you to all the readers and authors who have made this year so much fun! We wish you and yours all the best in 2022!

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Mary was restless. She was going out with Martine Petracca but he was late. He was a master’s degree candidate at the local university and time did not always matter to him. They were scheduled for an early dinner, maybe a movie and return here to her mother’s home late in the evening. It was too bad Marty always seemed to be late. I guess I should not be too choosey since I am six years older than Marty she thought. At twenty nine she was by common custom and “old maid”, but she still had hopes and besides she still liked sex. That had been one of the problems working in the Washington D.C. area; too many men there were looking for a sweet innocent virgin.

Mary had a couple of worthless romances and when she was forced to change offices in her Government job she decided to return home to North Carolina. He father died the year before her return and her mother complained that she needed someone to live with her. So, she had come home. That had been two years ago and here it was 1960. Presently cars had only a radio, heater, power steering and a bench seat. You could still cuddle up with each other in the front, no shifter or console to restrict movement as would come to be the vogue in a few years. You could also go to a drive-in theater, watch a movie or cuddle up and maybe have sex.

Since that time she did not have a real companion until she met Marty. She was feeling very lonely at the time since she had hoped to meet someone upon returning home. She realized she had a couple of physiological problems with men in that she was a bit demanding, discriminating, and opinionated but she felt someone would look beyond that. Also that she was five-foot six, a bit tall for a woman, did not help.

Then she met Marty in the insurance office where she worked. He was coming back for a semester as a graduate student and wanted some health coverage while in school. The city suburbs where she lived was the home of the state university. Many students wanted short term coverage while at school. When they returned home their parents insurance covered them.

Marty arrived twenty minutes late, but that was not unusual, he generally arrived late. Her mother was tolerant of him but showed she thought Mary could do better. However, she mostly kept her opinion to herself.

They spent an enjoyable evening together and on the way home, he had an older six year old 1954 car his parents had let him use while in school, he first suggested they park somewhere.

“I really do not think that is a good idea. Anyplace we choose would be too public or the police know of and come to disturb us.” She knew what he was thinking, it had happened before. After an evening of dinner and a movie it was time for loving, or sex.

“Why do not we come back to my place? By time we get there mother will be in bed on the second floor and we can use the couch in the living room which would be more comfortable than making love in the car.”

So they agreed to return home but as he drove he placed his hand on her leg inside her thigh and close to her crotch. Periodically he gave her a little squeeze. The presence of his hand softy rubbing stimulated her. As he drove there were a couple things he said that worried her a bit. Her sex making had been limited to mostly groping and masturbation. Nothing too far out and so far in the three sessions she had with Marty they had not gone beyond removing all their clothes and fingering each other.

Now he suggested something that reached beyond their present boundaries. “When we get home I would like to lick your sex but before I do so I want to shave you down there. Your hair would get into my mouth and that will be annoying.”

“If you did that there would be nothing to cover me.”

“What difference would that make, No one sees you there except when you are naked, we make love, and the few times your mother would when you shower.”

“It would mean being uncovered and my slit would show all the time.”

“I would like that.”

“I know you would. You would like me naked all the time.”

“One other thing Mary, since I am offering to do you orally I would like you to return the favor by taking my penis in your mouth until I come off.”

“You mean you want me to swallow your come?”

“Something like that. It would seem more like having sex where I put myself inside you, unless you would prefer doing that?”

“That is too chancy. You do not want to use protection and I do not need to become pregnant or run the risk of being so.”

“You know it would be more enjoyable doing what I propose. Let’s wait until we get back to your place to decide.”

On the rest of the ride back to her mother’s Mary thought over what Marty had suggested. Having oral sex with him intrigued her but the shaving was disturbing and the oral part with him was disgusting. She had never contemplated doing sex that way and it seemed a bit extreme. She could not imagine what his penis would feel or taste like once in pendik escort her mouth. What would she so with his come, swallow it? They had not used anything before and she was sure he did not mean to use anything now. She rode in silence thinking of what it would be like. No matter what she thought about how good it would feel to have his tongue inside her teasing her clitoris, the shaving part still worried her. She had never shaved herself before, even for physical exam. The more she thought about it the more her feelings became mixed. It would be nice to have someone do oral sex to her but the nakedness of her public area disturbed her.

When they returned Mary’s mother was in bed upstairs. The house was an old converted farm house now surrounded by the more contemporary homes of the housing development that had grown up around it. They entered the house through the main doorway leading to a foyer. On the right was a doorway to the kitchen and small bathroom off the kitchen. Ahead was the stairway to the second floor and on the left was the entrance to the living room, or parlor, which was a large long rectangular room with a couch at the back wall, a fireplace in the far wall and various other chairs scattered around plus a TV located in the corner of the near wall.

Mary felt the need of a toilet and directed Marty to wait for her in the parlor and she headed through the kitchen to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, her dress up, her panties on the floor, feeling the warm fluid flow out of her and thinking as she looked down at herself how dark and scrounge her pubic area looked with all its black hair some of which extended up onto her lower stomach. Her crotch was a not too enticing place and Marty had hinted he would do her orally if she let him shave her. It really made her consider his proposal to shave. Her mind wondered what it would feel like not to have any hair. Everything would be clean, the skin smooth and her vagina lips now partially concealed would be completely exposed. Exposing herself was what concerned her. Supposing someone besides Marty was to see her, what would they think? Putting that thought aside reached down, removed her shoes, panties and socks from around her feet, stood up and pulled her skirt down. She wore no slip but there was a bra and she thought of that for moment. Placing the rest of her clothes in the hamper she stood for second then unbuttoned her blouse and reaching around back unhooked her bra and dropped it into the hamper along with the rest of her clothes. She shrugged into her blouse and without any underwear she walked to the parlor and Marty. He would be gratified to find her without her underwear. It would be a nice surprise. The only thing she had not reconciled is would she take his penis in her mouth. That seemed a bit extreme.

She crossed the kitchen passed through the flyer and entered the parlor. Walking without underwear made her feel free and at liberty, something like she felt naked and she realized she was nearly naked. Her nipples brushed against the cloth of her blouse stimulating them so they stood out and showed through the material. The feeling excited and brought some anxiety, she had never done this before, even in the previous encounters with men. It was a new experience and so far she felt excited about showing off her lightly covered body.

The room was long and narrow with two small windows in the side wall, a fireplace on that wall and a larger window in the front wall. All had shades drawn and the lighting was dim so there was little chance of anyone outside looking in and her mother, the only threat to what was going on in the living room, was asleep on the second floor. If she did wake Mary hoped she has the good sense not to interfere.

She crossed the room; Marty was relaxed on the couch against the far wall. He held out his hands as she entered and she settled in beside him. He had noticed her nipple outline against the blouse and wondered if she had anything underneath.

They snuggled up close and he began to explore first her back, then the front and decided she had very little on, especially on top. He always had been bold with her even though they had not gone too far, but this time, maybe it was different. He opened each button slowly and caressed her breasts softly at first, then a little harder. He squeezed them with the palm of his hand and she squirmed against him. She knew she was inviting him to go on.

He pulled the blouse out of her skirt, pulled it off her shoulders and stripped it off her. Reaching behind her at her waist he opened the button at the top of her skirt and eased the zipper down all the way. His had felt in under the skirt and he felt the crevice at the top of the behind. She had no panties on. He began to wonder how far she would go. While she was in the toilet he had gone back to the car and rescued the razor and it was sitting in its case on the end table. She had escort pendik said nothing about it and he now assumed she had not seen or did not pay attention to it.

When he pulled on the skirt she lifted and he drew down the garment, slowly passing it down her thighs, over her knees, then to the floor where he removed it and threw it on the floor in the middle of the room. He did not want her to have easy access to it in case she changed her mind on how things were going.

Mary had laid there feeling the softness of the cloth leaving her body and did not know how she really felt about being eventually naked. There had thoughts of anxiety, excitement and submission. She wondered if he would shave her. In the present state she just might allow it. It would be different have no hair down there. He was removing his clothes and in seconds would be naked against her.

Slowly and lightly he passed his hands followed by his head, kissing and dragging his tongue over her soft smooth skin as he went. He began with her breast then went lower to her tummy into her pubic area. As he did this she had completely opened up her legs submissively giving him full access to her. Using only his hand he squeezed and partially opened the lips of her sex and caressed her inside. He kept this up until she moved in response to his motion, and finally he found her button. At that point he started her up the slope to a climax only three quarters the way up he stopped and left her. She laid there disappointed, feeling the sensation dying within her and wishing he would go on. It was disappointment like this that made her wonder why he did not he finish what he started.

He was gone only a few seconds when he returned with something small, with a “T” like handle in his hand. Without asking he passed the device over her open upper thighs, then lightly over the lips of her sex but only on the left side. She felt the pressure of the device against her skin and without seeing it she knew he had a razor in his hand. She could feel its results as it glided swiftly over her skin. He started between her legs on the left side of her thighs, then across her lower belly to the right side of her sex and thighs. When he stopped and looked at her she knew all the hair was gone. It felt strangely different, as though a roller had moved over her skin and removed the blanket that was there. He now took her right hand and passed it over her crotch. The skin was silky smooth, something like what you would expect a baby’s skin would feel. The touch was expected and unexpected all at the same time.

Then he dropped his head between her legs, moving his tongue along the now bare skin, licking softly and forecasting what was to come. Then he entered her sex with his tongue, sliding all the way up inside her and rubbing her button at the same time. He kept going, penetrating her deeper and deeper while thrashing her button, until gasping, she reached the top of her climax. When she indicated she had enough he eased up and sat next to her.

It had been the most satisfying sexual experience she had ever felt. She was relaxed, calm and restful now it was over. Laying there calming down she wondered what was next.

***** ***** *****

A few days passed before they went out again, this time like those before they had dinner at a restaurant and went to a movie only this time he took her to his apartment near the university campus. It was a rather Spartan place with little furniture, an efficiency apartment with a bed and a kitchen as part of the living space. It had two straight backed chairs, a table and the bed all in the same room. She looked around and there was a couch, a couple of upholstered chairs a small table with two additional chairs. Rather an unadorned place. He motioned her to the couch and asked her something totally unexpected, “How would you like to be spanked? I would really like to spank you and I believe you would really like it. It sensitizes your behind and pubic area simultaneously.

Mary was aghast. She had not expected this. She thought he would want sex like the last time with her doing it for him in her mouth. She was not completely sold on doing it for him in the mouth and felt like refusing if he asked. But this spanking idea was new and shocking. While she was thinking about it he sat next to her and began rubbing her back and tickling her around the ears as he opened the buttons on her blouse. Next he pulled the garment out of her skirt. He kissed her full on the lips with his tongue sliding over her teeth but not entering. She felt her clothes loosening up, the bra catch on her back opened and not thinking she let it slip off her arms. Next was her skirt, it became fully unbuttoned in back then pulled out from under her and was sliding down her legs. With her shoes and ankle socks removed she was almost naked. After he lifted her sliding the panties over her anus and down her legs she was naked.

She pendik escort bayan generally expected this part but he roughly pulled her up, turned her and pulled her arms behind her as he lifted her from the couch and directed her to one of the straight chairs she was startled. She tried to resist but he firmly positioned her at the back of one of the straight chairs and proceeded to tie her feet to its legs. At first she did not realize what he was doing and he managed to tie one leg before she reacted. Although she struggled he held her in place until he had both of her ankles tied to the chair. Bending her over the chair back face down he hit her twice, once of each cheek, fast and quick. The blows made both sides of her behind sting and left a sore spot. Mary did not feel she was going to like this. It was far worse than the shaving, which did have a pleasing effect, and the oral sex which had followed even if it did have a funky taste. There was no pain like now. This activity made her behind sting and she had not bought into that. After a couple more whacks to each of her cheeks she straightened up.

“I think I had enough.”

“Take just a couple more. It will enjoy the sex better.”

The feeling in her behind did not make her feel inclined to go on. Although she was reluctant she did not want to disappoint him. Being with him was entertaining and perhaps would lead to something more permanent so she let it go on.

“Alright, but do not hit me so hard. When you strike with full force it does more than sting.”

“Okay, just four more strokes.”

Reluctantly she nodded her head and bent forward again and he hit her hard enough to make it sting again only this time it left a slightly erotic feeling in her vagina. She had not expected to enjoy this but the feeling was exciting and she felt she would let him proceed.

“This will be the last two,” he said and he hit her full force in the same spot as before making her skin smart and sore. She wondered if her behind was red. Her cheeks were more stimulated now, but feeling sore and bruised. Surprisingly her vagina spasm and she and a bit reluctantly she respond to the burning feeling in her butt. Thinking it would be the last blow she was about to relax when he hit four more times making her butt really burn but somehow the sensation did not sting like did when he started. She did not want to admit it but she was beginning to almost like what was being done to her. It certainly was different from plain sex and she wanted it to continue to see if it would arouse her more.

However, the next sensation was totally unexpected. He rubbed his hand over her anal opening, first with a smoothing liquid before he inserter his finger. As he probed the now lubricated and spanking stimulated anus he the opening wider and the penetration caused pain again. The next thing she felt was small hard slippery object being inserted into her far up inside. The feeling was both gratifying and petrifying. She had no idea what he was doing or what he might do. In seconds he removed the object and started to enter her with his penis. He felt enormous but was softer and more pliable than the object he had used initially. Slowly he moved in and out of her opening, filling her tunnel and stretching her each time. The discomfort continued filling her insides like huge ram forced into her. It made her try to resist him until she found if she relaxed the discomfort eased. He moved faster and faster inside her and she knew in the end when he had come.

This was not her preferred way to have sex but at least there was no worry about making a mistake and becoming pregnant. She could relax and not have that worry, but soreness from the stretching was another thing. She would be careful next time not to let him surprise her. She might do it again, just like the oral sex and the shaving, but not before she thought it over more thoroughly. She did admit to herself she liked the clean smooth skin and would continue to shave herself. But for now she had enough and before he could continue she stood up straight indicating it was time to stop, the evening was over. He kept feeling her body, sliding his hands lightly, soothingly, and lovingly over her the skin on her legs, behind and back as he released her. They dressed and he drove her home in silence. There was little to say and she wanted reflect on the evening. Her anus sill tingled from the effects of the spanking and the anal sex and she still felt lightly excited all the next day.

She was hoping for something of a more permanent association with Marty but it would depend on what he did when after the semester was over. His classroom work would be over and he could write his theses anywhere. She wondered if she should confront him with an alternative or just let things ride.

The next time they went out he again surprised her with a suggestion. He had some friends who had a home on the edge of town he had at times played cards with and when a third couple showed up they often played strip poker. One of the girls had become pregnant and they had dropped out so would she be willing to join them as the third couple.

“Does it mean I will have to take off everything?”

“You might, it depends on how the cards run and the skill of the other players.

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After the tribes left, Arnab and Bhaskar returned to the dining hall for the evening coffee. By that time, all the family members had assembled for their evening coffee. Both the friends announced the happening of the marriage ceremony in the village. The old ladies, Kaberi and Archana preferred to stay back so Arnab and Bhaskar. The daughters-in-law of the household, Ashmita, and Madhu also preferred to stay back. But the other males, Debasish, Dipankar, Bipin, Mihir, and two young girls, Bipasha and Arpita decided to attend the marriage ceremony of tribes so that they could enjoy the music and dance the whole night. Bipin and Mihir announced that they would serve an early dinner for all so that they could visit the village early.

The dinner was served early and before 9.00.P.M. Debasish, Dipankar, Bipasha, Arpita, Bipin, and Mihir finished their dinner as quickly as possible before others. Arnab, Bhaskar, Ashmita, and Madhu were sitting together and were having their dinner comfortably. Arnab and Bhaskar were having their casual talk but Ashmita and Madhu were taking their dinner silently without talking with each other, once the best friends but now a wide distance between them except formal talking.

Both the elders knew the reason but they would not discuss this matter as both of them were involved with their daughters-in-law now. None of the family members had the slightest doubt over their relationship as they were river partners. The two elderly women, Archana and Kaberi were also taking their dinner silently beside them and both the elderly women were unhappy because Bipin and Mihir would leave tonight to attend the marriage ceremony of tribes, and both the grandmothers would be missing the night fucking.

By the time all of them finished their dinner, they saw Debasish, Dipankar, Bipasha, Arpita, Bipin, and Mihir assembled in the dining hall with well dressed. The time was 9.30.PM. All of them would be staying a whole night there to enjoy the music and dance of tribes. Debasish and Dipankar had secret desires to consume tribal beer in absence of their fathers. Even Bipin and Mihir had secret desires to consume tribal wine. Two young girls, Bipasha and Arpita wanted to enjoy the night and also hoped to meet Aunt Debika and Deboshree there after a long time. All of them proceeded towards the main door to exist and after few moments, they left the bungalow. Now, only Kaberi, Archana, Bhaskar, Arnab, and their two daughters-in-law remained in the dining hall.

Both the elderly ladies left the dining hall and went to their respective rooms for an early bed. After dinner, both Arnab and Madhu came out of the bungalow and they were sitting outside of the main entrance on two Raton chairs. It was a moonlit night, the fragrance of flowers from the garden area of the bungalow permeated the surrounding air. The bungalow as well as the nearby area were calm and quiet except for the chirpings of insects. From the distance, only the sound of the beating of drums, the sound of flutes, and the sound of other tribal musical instruments could be heard. The tribal party was in its full swing at this hour of the night.

“What’s a romantic atmosphere! “exclaimed Arnab.

“Thank God, all others have left,” giggled Madhu.

Then they saw Ashmita and Bhaskar were coming out of the main entrance.

“Hey, you two, where are you going?” asked Arnab.

“You see, today we have been served dinner too early and we cannot go to bed so early. So, before going to bed, why not stroll around the garden for some time!” Bhaskar replied.

“Right, carry on,” said Arnab and saw them moving towards the right side of the bungalow towards the garden area.

“Arn, why don’t we also stroll around the garden area for a while instead of sitting here?” suggested Madhu.

Both Arnab and Madhu moved towards the left side of the bungalow, towards another garden area, just opposite to the place where Bhaskar and Ashmita had moved.

After walking away from some distance, Madhu said,” I think that cement bench is there near those flowering shrubs, could we go there and sit?”

They ended up walking and sat on the bench so close, their bodies clinging to each other. Madhu was just enjoying the moonlit atmosphere around them. The slight dark atmosphere where she could see her man clearly with the fragrance of flowers coming from the shrubs nearby made Madhu completely irresistible and she pulled Arnab towards her and showered him with her hot kisses on his lips.

“After a long time, I have got my husband alone without any interruption from anybody,” she whispered.

“Really!” he exclaimed and embraced her tightly.

Madhu welcomed him, sucking at him, drawing him deeper, tangling her tongue with his, rubbing, stroking,and enticing. He took her hand and brought it against him, molding her fingers along with his erection as he dipped his tongue into the heat of her mouth again and again. A moaning caught at the back of Madhu’s throat. Through his pajama, she could feel him esenyurt escort pulsing with need. His hand grasped hers, leading her to her feminine mound, sliding in between her legs, cupping her, rubbing the fabric of her robe against the heat of her desire.

With his free hand, he opened the robe, his big hand cupping her breast. His mouth left hers, and Madhu bowed back against the bench as his mouth closed over her nipple, sucking at her with hard pulls of his mouth. Tremors of excitement rippled along Madhu’s nerves. The sense of doing something forbidden in the open garden under the moonlit sky only added fuel to the fire inside her. She gave herself over to the sensation of his wet, hot mouth closing over her other erect nipple. His teeth grazed the tender bud, and pleasure sparkled through her like stardust.

He moved lower, kissing her stomach, his tongue flicking over the point of her hip to the crease of her thigh. He parted the soft, swollen flesh between her legs. Settling his mouth against her, he kissed her deeply, and she gasped and bucked against him. Arching into the intimate kiss, she shamelessly gave herself over to the pleasure he was giving her. He pushed her bottom onto the cement bench, lifting her hips with his hands, pressing her legs apart to more fully stroke, dragging her deeper into the tide of passion.

He took her over the brink, and Madhu thought she might die of ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure swamped her, stealing her breath, stealing her sanity. Madhu reared up against him, sliding off the bench, reaching for the waistband of his briefs and tugging them down. She wrapped her hands around his erection, and Arnab lost it.

“No, Ashmita, we cannot fuck here. It is not safe as Bhaskar and Ashmita are still there in the other part of the garden. You can just suck. Tonight, I will fuck you in my room,” said Arnab.

“OK, Arn,” said Madhu and swirled her lips around the throbbing shaft of his.

He thrust into her mouth, dying a sweet little death as her velvety hot lips closed around him, tighter than a glove. He gave himself over completely to pleasuring her with deep, smooth strokes of his body. Drowning in her wild, fevered kisses and sucking took his breath away. When the end came in an explosion of sensation and desperation, the intensity of it scared him down to his toes. Arnab eased away from her and withdrew his cock from her mouth which was bathing with her saliva. He didn’t want to leave the warmth of her body.

He said,” Let’s go to my bedroom. Now, I want to fuck you.”

With a soft murmur, he took her into his arms and they headed toward the entrance of the bungalow, to his bedroom.

On the other side of the garden of the bungalow, Bhaskar and Ashmita were walking around as they talked more about their past relationships with their spouses and what they both wanted out of the future for themselves.

“I cannot place exactly when it happened, but at some point, today morning at the river, our relationship crossed a line of intimacy and we both realized it, Isn’t it Ashmita?” asked Bhaskar.

“For the rest of the day and into the evening, I was only thinking that we both are made for each other than why didn’t God make us as husband and wife?” replied Ashmita.

“Now, I wonder why we both were conversing very little to each other previously. If I would have known your separation from your husband, I would have fucked you quite a long time before. But today was wonderful for me, and I hope you enjoyed it too,” said Bhaskar.

“Maybe, you have also enjoyed a virgin tribal teen,” Ashmita teased him intentionally.

“She might be the virgin but that tribal teen is nothing in comparison to you, I confess it honestly, Ashmita. After fucking you, I am still insatiable and I want to fuck you more and more till my life remains in my body. Even I wish that I will fuck you tonight,” said Bhaskar.

“Ohh, my God. Are you such crazy for me, Bhash? Are you a fucking machine still after fucking two times in a day?” asked Ashmita with a surprising voice.

“Yes, dear Ashmita, after fucking you, my cock is still throbbing, and aspire for you more,” he said.

“I will try and treat you exactly as if nothing had happened unless you give me a sign that you want otherwise. I won’t put you under any pressure. If you want me to be just a father-in-law again then that’s fine,” he further said.

Bhaskar looked for encouragement on her face but saw no reaction at all. He stopped her for a moment and ran his fingers through her fine hair,” Take your time as long as you need. But if you want me to be more than that, then you only have to let me know,” he said again.

Ashmita stared at him with an angry look and said, “What’s the hell is it, Bhash? Why there is still doubt inside your mind? Didn’t I confess to you on the bank of the river that I am separated from my husband and I have established a new relationship with you as a lover? Not lover exactly, esenyurt escort bayan you are like my husband now. Do you have still any doubt over our relationship?”

“Sorry, dear, I am extremely sorry. Because it happened suddenly, all so new to me. I didn’t really know how to feel about it all of a sudden and I misunderstood you, please forgive me. You are my heart, my true love. Rightly, you have said, from this moment I am your husband,” he said and pulled her into his chest and started kissing her.

“I understand the sentiments, Bhash.” She said in a friendly reassuring voice.

Ashmita clung to him, breathing in the heady smell of him, realizing that he’d branded her for life with his scent.

Bhaskar shifted, and Ashmita met his eyes. She traced his lower lip with her thumb, “You were very right.”

“About what?” he asked, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.

“After our fucking in riverbank, I also got confused about our relationship,” she confessed.

Bhaskar kissed her again. Then he touched her. He touched her face. He began at the meeting of their mouths, at the soft wet corners of their lips, then found her jaw, her cheek, her brow, he had touched her before; but never like this. So, smooth she was! So warm! It was like he was calling the heat and shape of her out of the darkness, as if the darkness was turning solid and growing quick, under his hand.

She began to shake. He supposed she was still nervous. Then he began to shake, too. When her face grew wet with tears, he kissed them away and said, “Ashmita, I promise, I will never leave you.”

Then, he smiled his full killer smile and said, “You’re the prettiest lady I have ever seen in my life and I am lucky that I have started a relationship with you,” his grin faded, and he looked away, “I had a dilemma but now that is over, thanks to you.”

“What was that?” she asked, running her hand up to his hard, muscular torso.

“I had a dilemma that how can a beautiful young lady like you could love an old man like me when there is a lot of gaps between our ages?” he said.

“No, dear, love does not see the age difference, it sees what is beneath the heart. Two minds could only be joined together when they feel to be satisfied with each other,” Ashmita said and pressed her lips against his neck and nuzzled. Warmth blossomed inside her.

Bhaskar sighed deeply, his arms tightening around her, “Yes, dammit, why didn’t you meet me at my younger age, and by this time, you would have been a mother of my children.”

“Is there no chance now that I could be a mother of your children!” she teased him.

“You’re really distracting me, Ashmita,” he said against her mouth.

“Mmm-hmm,” she responded, sliding her tongue around his bottom lip.

He twisted and grabbed her around the waist and hauled her onto his lap, his full-blown erection pressed against the fly of his night pajama. “You are making me crazy,” he said as he took her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss.

Her mouth was hot, moist, and tasted like honey. She molded her hand over his erection. She ran her hands down his sides, pushing at the pajama and briefs.

“Ohh…God, I have to leave here immediately so that I could fuck you the whole night. Let us go to my room, Ashmita, I cannot wait further,” he said and virtually dragged her towards the entrance door of the bungalow.

It was night and the time was 9.40.P.M. there was a moonlit sky and the family members, Debasish, Dipankar, their two daughters, Bipasha and Arpita along with Mihir and Bipin, moved on to the venue of the performance from the bungalow. They climbed down to the plateau from where they moved toward the road leading toward the two villages through a small forest. They crossed the rice fields (freshly green due to the recent rainfall) It was a moonlit night and everything was seen clearly.

On the way, Arpita asked her father,” Papa, what’s all about this marriage ceremony? Whose marriage ceremony we are going to attend?”

Debasish replied, “Dear, we are going to attend the marriage ceremony of two tribe brothers who are going to marry a girl.”

“What?” exclaimed Bipasha,” Two persons marrying a single girl!”

“Not only that, both have already a wife. This is their acceptance of a second wife,” explained Dipankar.

Debasish went on explaining,” Some wealthy Tribe men would take a second or even third wife. In some cases, both polygamy and polyandry were combined and brothers sometimes would share two or more wives. This custom had arisen due to shortage of women in tribes.”

They arrived at the central point from where two paths led to two different villages. From the distance, they could see the venue which was illuminated with torch lights the brightness of which could be observed from distances in darkness. A gathering of tribe people in red and white clothes passed along with them toward the performance venue, which was surrounded by canopies of the trees escort esenyurt and filled with seating for spectators on the ground.

Arnab closed the bedroom door behind them. Gently laying Madhu down, he followed her to the mattress. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close.

“My Princess?” he whispered.

He removed all of his clothes and put on a towel. In the meantime, Madhu had also removed her all clothes and slipped under the white bedsheet on the bed.

“I don’t like glaring light, why don’t you switch on the bed lamp?” Madhu complained.

Immediately, he switched on the bed lamp and the light flared at the bed head. In the red-orange light of the flame, he saw Madhu carefully then to make the room more romantic, he lighted a low, thick candle. Its flame caught and the light in the room brightened a little. Arnab was speechless. In the low light her black hair, brushed till it shone, some of her dyed red hairs glowed like gold. Her pale skin appeared soft and milky in a picture of sweet, yet definitely accessible innocence.

She was sitting upright in the bed, the single white sheet covering her knees which were drawn up almost under her chin. The sheet’s embroidered hem rested on her breasts hiding them from his eyes, but he could clearly tell that, beneath it, she was already naked as she wanted to tease him. Arnab felt a warm glow within him and a pain in his groin as his erection strained against the towel which constrained it. Locking the door firmly, he crossed the room to her side and sat carefully on the edge of the divan, his towel uncomfortably still over his unconcealable erection. He kissed her on the forehead.

“You told me last time, I was little rough, wasn’t I?” he said.

Madhu looked sheepish and said, “I would never call you that, Arn? Because I was never fucked with such a big cock before which inflicted my pain but now, I am acquainted with your big cock” she replied, looking very young and very innocent. She looked down at her knees, “I was upset when you forced me in that night but later on you know how much I have repented for that? At that time, I thought you might hate me and…”

Arnab put a finger across her lips.

“Princess!” he whispered earnestly, “I could never hate you no matter what you did. And to think you were offering me yourself as my wife…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat felt so choked up.

Madhu took his hand in hers and squeezed, smiling at him. Arnab smiled indulgently and raised her hand to his lips. He kissed her fingers, then her hand and her wrist as his other hand stroked her cheek. He drew a finger along the line of her jaw, then across her lips, which opened to let her teeth nibble his fingertip. Releasing her hand, his arm snaked loosely around her neck and drew her towards him until their lips met. Her lips were cool; her mouth was hot; her tongue astonishingly active against him. He pressed his lips onto hers and her hair fell backward over his arm, its clean, fresh smell filling his nostrils.

Slowly she lowered her arms, and with them the white bed sheet leaving her breasts naked in the candlelight. His hand rose instinctively to caress them. They felt small and firm under his fingers, with the nipples already erect. He cursed the rough skin of his hands as his palms cupped and gently kneaded them. Madhu’s mouth became more active on him as a tide of desire began to rise within her. Their lips parted and she panted a little, her heaving chest forcing her cone-shaped nipples against his hands, increasing her desire still further.

The softness of her flesh under his hands aroused him further. He lowered her head to the crisp white pillow and, stroking her cheek again, lowered his head until his lips found the large, dark circles of her nipples. His fingers raised her breasts gently to his mouth and he flicked his tongue lightly over each nipple in turn. He could hear her breathing quicken as his tongue danced over the hard, dark flesh. For a few blissful minutes, he suckled softly on Madhu’s breasts, drawing each nipple into his mouth, his tongue caressing each delicate tip, his lips sucking gently, his teeth lightly nipping each bud in turn.

Madhu writhed on the sheet, her hands stroking his back and sides. Arnab raised his mouth to hers and kissed her lips again, his tongue seeking hers deep in her fresh mint-flavored mouth. As they kissed, he slid his left hand under the sheet and along the soft skin of her thigh. He drew his fingers slowly in a long line up the inside of her thigh towards her vulva. Instinctively, she pressed her knees together to prevent his from touching her most private parts. He smiled at her and lowered his hand to her knees again.

“Are you ok Princess?” he whispered. Madhu nodded.

His hand rose again towards her vulva. Again, her legs tightened together but less strongly so this time. He stroked her upper thigh gently then ran his fingers slowly up and down her legs, each gentle stroke pressing deeper and deeper, higher and higher, her legs parting fraction by fraction until his fingers finally brushed against her soft, tightly curled pubic hair. Madhu froze at the touch of his fingers on her outer lips. Arnab held his hand still, allowing her body to adjust to the feeling as he kissed her deliberately deeply, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.

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Susan was introduced in part 8 of my Novella, New Xanadu, which is the back story of the club that features in this story, and of the characters who formed it. There’s not a lot of Susan there, as she was put on ice for her own protection shortly after being introduced. So, while I hope that everyone will read my earlier stories, I’ll admit that you don’t really need to look there to understand Susan here.

Please rate this story and, especially, make a comment. If there are things you like, it would be great to hear about them. If there are things you don’t, it would also be great to hear about them — criticism can be constructive.

_______________________________

New Xanadu had been open for 3 months when Susan’s divorce came through. Giver her husband’s wealth and abusive character, not to mention strong support and pressure from his fundamentalist church members, I had expected it to be hotly contested. It started out that way, but thanks to a combination of the legal bulldogs that Mary selected for Susan to sic on him, and the hidden wealth unearthed by Ron’s and Mike’s network of data miners, things changed dramatically after four months.

It turned out that Brutus had been an even more successful hedge fund manager than he had let on. His face-saving reason for caving in was that he did not want the physical and psychological injuries that he had inflicted on Susan paraded before his church members and investors. But I am certain that the real clincher was his desire to keep off the record the fact that he had salted away roughly $20 million without mentioning it to the IRS. He had never shared this information with Susan, and Mary and her attorneys decided it would be best to keep Susan and her legal team in the dark about it to shield her from any tax evasion charges should the IRS find out. Even after Mary’s people let Brutus know that they could blow him up with the IRS, he put up enough token resistance that Susan elected to take less than half of the couple’s documented wealth, rather than fighting for years for what might have been much more. Still, when it was done, we all agreed that $6 million was nothing to sneeze at.

When she first came to our happy sex addicts group, Susan had told us that before marrying Brutus when she was 25, she had enjoyed an active sex life with multiple partners, usually one at a time; and that she and Brutus had had a good sex life for the first 9 years of their marriage. When Brutus got religion in a very bad way, that was followed by a year of marital rapes and beatings. Susan had been advised by her attorneys simply not to have any sex while her divorce was being litigated, not that, as a sexually battered woman, she was particularly interested in sex. Consequently, she had been celibate for nearly a year when her divorce was granted.

When the divorce decree became final and Susan’s money was safely in the bank, Martha, Mary and Joan decided it was time to begin helping her rediscover the joys of sex. From their own experiences, each recognized that this was a dicey proposition. Mary had helped Martha work her way through a teenage date rape, and had herself been drugged up and pimped out while a runaway. Joan had been seriously injured in a Looking for Mr. Goodbar encounter. They knew that however horny Susan might think she had become from her forced celibacy, the sexual abuse that she had gone through before might be enough to leave her with a fear of men and sex, if not with a full-blown PTSD.

Strong, highly intelligent and very sexually positive women that they were, Martha, Mary and Joan sat Susan down for a mid-life version of “the talk.”

After months of abstinence, was she horny? Yes, frequently, but not on days when she had bad dreams the night before about being raped and beaten.

Did she want to go to counseling for those? An unenthusiastic maybe.

Did she want to go to our new sex club just to look and see what was available; sort of anonymously shop around? Maybe, but not yet.

Would she be willing to go on a date with a guy, or a woman or a couple for that matter, who could be trusted not to push her into anything she didn’t want? Yes; a guy. Sex with a man was the horse she was going to have to get back on, and she guessed that it would be better to start trying sooner than later.

All were agreed that Susan’s sexual reawakening needed to be put in the hands of someone they could trust. Mary, in particular, was against professional therapy. She’d been there, repeatedly, and felt that she had gotten more help from a hooker with a heart of gold and her cop boyfriend than from any shrink she had ever met. Joan was ambivalent because as a medical professional she didn’t like the idea of unlicensed sex therapy, but she felt that my lovemaking had done her at least as much good as her sessions with her counselor. Martha wasn’t for or against counseling, but her vote about me was split because she was still pissed at me for having lost my head with Salome one night. Ultimately, she konya escort agreed that of all the males in our group I was the most empathetic and the most likely to be patient.

Which is how I came to be the designated sexual surrogate to try to restore Susan’s mojo.

The three women sat me down one night at the club and told me that I was going to have a date with Susan. This came as a pleasant surprise to me, since I’d wanted her from the first time I’d seen her at an SAA meeting. Then Mary and Martha told me that there was a lot riding on this, for me as well as for Susan. Given Mary’s family background, anything she said was serious had to be taken seriously indeed. As for Martha, she chose the carrot over the stick: maybe if I carried this off well, I could get out of her doghouse, which I chose to mean back into her bed. Joan just tried to give me positive reinforcement while being realistic. She reminded me of how I had helped her when she needed it, and said that she was sure that if this plan had any hope of success, I was the man for the job. At the same time she warned me that Susan might need more than I could accomplish, and that if I sensed things were not progressing, I should back off and let them know immediately.

They chose a Tuesday night, when restaurants were open but business was slow, and New Xanadu was closed. Our first date was to be at Campagnola, a very nice traditional restaurant in Evanston that just happened to be owned by one of Mary’s cousins. She assured me that while this would give Susan the mental comfort of a public place with other diners, the adjacent tables would be empty, allowing us to talk freely. I was to meet Susan there at 7, rather than picking her up at her apartment, again to take pressure off of her. What happened after 9 when the restaurant closed was to be left up to Susan.

I arrived a little before 7 and was shown to a table for two along the back wall. As promised, the other tables in this area were empty. It was a late March evening, so I had added a sweater and a sport coat for the extra layers. The restaurant is frequently described as “cozy,” and it was plenty warm at the back, allowing me to give the waiter my sports coat along with my outer coat.

As I sat waiting for Susan, I realized that I was nervous, which was unusual for me. Meeting women with the hope that by the end of the evening we would be in bed together had not been a big deal for me for a long time. But Mary and Martha and Joan had drilled it into me that this was not one of those “Let’s grab dinner and jump into bed” sort of evenings. In a way, I was on ground that, if not exactly new, was so far removed from the landscape of my recent life as to be unfamiliar.

I’d sought advice from the guys in our group, and the only one who came up with anything that sounded remotely useful was James: “Treat her like she’s a virgin.” The only virgin I had ever been in bed with was me, so not even distant memory served, especially since I was pretty sure that as a general rule guys and girls approached the loss of their virginity with vastly different sets of emotions. So I went back to Joan, the woman in our group with whom I had the best rapport at the time, and asked her what James’s advice meant in practical terms. Even though it was a serious discussion, we chose to have it in bed, which we’d long ago learned helped us open up to each other emotionally.

She said, “I’ve always enjoyed being with James because he seems to be a perceptive and caring lover. Just like you only with more experience. Oh, don’t look hurt; that was a compliment. You are miles ahead of him for your age, and unless you run into a lethally jealous husband or lover, I expect time will solve the experience issue.

“Anyway, I think James is sort of right but totally wrong. Yes, Susan is sort of like a virgin here, unsure of herself, curious and horny, but afraid. The big difference, though, is that your average virgin female is influenced, almost governed, by a hormone soup that helps a guy get into her pants. She has an overwhelming need to be loved, so it is easy to smooth talk her. And at the same time she has this biological urge to make babies, or at least to do the thing that would make babies if she didn’t have the good sense to get some birth control. Add a little inhibition-reducing alcohol to some sweet talk and those raging hormones, especially if the guy is someone she’d like her children to look like, and most virgins are easy. At least I was,” she said with a wistful smile.

“Now, with Susan in her mid-30s, you don’t have as much of that hormone soup. Granted, Mary tends to mention our orgies around her, and months of that has had to get Susan’s motor going a little. But that’s not as good as hormones, especially when her more recent memories kick in. And that’s the biggest problem in my opinion. A virgin fears the unknown future. Is it going to hurt? Will he still love me after he gets what he wants? What would her friends and family konya escort bayan say if they found out? And maybe she fears getting pregnant, despite the fact that her built-in biological imperative is pushing her to do just that. Susan’s fears are not speculative; they are grounded in her experiences: her most recent sex hurt her badly, both physically and emotionally. Unlike the virgin, here you’re dealing with ‘Once burned, twice shy.’ If you can bring Susan around, and that is a serious ‘if’ in my mind, she is not going to be easy.”

“Great,” I said, “I appreciate the theory and the confidence, but what do I do.”

“John, sometimes you can be your own worst enemy, and I’m not talking just about what you did to get Martha pissed at you. You overthink things and try to plan ahead too much. Probably it’s your own insecurities coming out. You need to put those aside, and put your own needs aside too. You do what you did so well for me. You get her to talk; you listen and respond to what she is telling you. You focus on Susan’s needs and insecurities rather than on your own. You build up her confidence, in herself and in you.

“By all means sweet talk her — every woman wants to be told nice things about herself — but never say anything that isn’t absolutely grounded in truth, even if you embellish it a little. You don’t need to give her presents, but if you find out she likes something, you should respond to that.

“As to the physical side of it, you need to probe very gently. Remember that ‘Once burned.’ Think of Susan as one big first-degree burn and hope it’s not worse than that. Until or unless she tells you or shows you that she wants more, all of your touches are soft, tentative. Kisses are the same. Believe me if, and hopefully when, she wants more, she’ll let you know.

“Don’t expect everything to go in a straight line, either. Remember, she’s a mix of fears and desires, and the desires won’t always be on top. What worked for her yesterday might not work tomorrow. When you hit a setback, you can’t show frustration. If possible, you try not even to feel frustration. We women read emotions pretty well when we’re not being moonstruck in love. Comfort, understanding without pressure, and letting her know that you are there for her and only for her; that’s what you need to offer, all the time. Hell,” she laughed, “if you do this right she’ll probably end up falling in love with you; it’s a risk therapists run. But we’ll see if we can fix that later — if you want. A beautiful woman about your age with $6 million in the bank. I should be jealous already.”

“Ah, Joan, if it comes to that, we’ll always have Rosemont,” I quipped.

“And not just that, I hope,” Joan said as she lifted up and threw the covers off of me. Now lie there and be a good boy. I want to show you something I’ve been working on.”

With that, she scooted down in the bed and wrapped her lips around my cock. All the talk-talk had left it completely soft, but in no time at all she had me rock hard and standing tall. Then, carefully, she started pushing down my shaft until I felt myself hit the back of her throat. She gagged a little, backed off, and then resumed her descent. This time I could feel myself sliding into her throat. When she hit bottom she rested for a few seconds, then she slowly brought herself up off my cock and gave me a big, sloppy smile.

“Martha’s been teaching me how to deep throat,” she said proudly. “Yours is the first real cock I’ve tried it on. You’re bigger than the banana I’ve been practicing with, so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it.” With that she went back to my cock again, bobbing up and down, gagging a little most times when I passed into her throat. I made a point of lying as still as I could to avoid doing anything that might hurt her.

When I got close I gasped “I’m gonna come” and Joan pulled back far enough to get me out of her throat, allowing her to suck and lick the head of my prick as I shot my cum into her mouth. The sensation was almost unbearable, and it was all I could do not to pull her off me as I came. But I hung in there until she had sucked me dry, then I pulled her back up and gave her a big, deep kiss.

My reveries about Joan ended when, at almost exactly 7, Susan walked through the front door of Campagnola. She spotted me and came straight back. There as an awkward moment as I debated whether to stand up or not. Thinking about Joan’s deep throat debut had left me with quite a woody, and the sight of Susan with her long red hair, lovely oval face did nothing to lessen it. The gentleman that my mother had trained me to be forced me out of my seat. Clearly Susan noticed my predicament because when she got to the table she hit me with that old Mae West line. “Why detective, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

I think I turned redder than her hair and then we both broke out laughing. Noticing the waiter on his way to take her coat, Susan said in a deadpan voice, “Please, escort konya don’t stand on ceremony, have a seat,” which I was glad to do before I embarrassed myself further.

As the waiter helped her into her chair Susan looked up at him and said, “I could really use a martini, stirred, not shaken please. And,” looking at me, “for my friend here,” she said with an upward inflection.

At that point I dearly wanted a strong vodka tonic, but one of us needed to stay sober to avoid the risk of any morning after regrets following drunken decision making. So, “A glass of Chablis, please,” is what I told the waiter.

After the waiter left, Susan looked me straight in the eye and said, “John, it’s good to see you again. And thank you for helping to get me out of that mess of a marriage and quite possibly save my life. Mary and the others almost insisted that I come out with you tonight. Now, would you like to tell me why we are here?”

Wow, what a take charge performance, I thought; coming on kind of like Mary at our first encounter: she the $6 million woman and I something much less. If I hadn’t seen the tremor in her right hand as she nervously fiddled with the knife beside her plate. I might have bought it and been offended. Instead, I realized that sometimes hard is brittle, and that she was almost certainly acting hard to cover her insecurity.

Making a point not to reach out and touch her hand, or even to lean forward to close the space between us, I said “Speaking for myself, I am here to have dinner with a beautiful woman who is a friend of some special friends of mine. I’m extremely open minded, but whether anything more ever comes of that is entirely up to you. As to why you are here and why we are here, that’s a little hard for me to say. At the least, I hope we are both here to enjoy a pleasant meal.”

“Alright,” she said, still fiddling with the knife, “this is not some set-up where our mutual friends brought in their favorite stud to wine and dine me before you whisk little old me off to your bed to return me to the world of the sexually liberated?”

“For the record, you are not old, and you are not little. I’d say pleasantly average sized, and neither of us will be old for some time. Now, more seriously, I am not planning on whisking you off to my bed for any purpose. And if you think you are here because you are supposed to take me home, I should warn you that I’ve been known to refuse to be whisked on a first date.” Well, in keeping with Joan’s advice about honesty, this was technically true, even though that had been a long time ago.

That got a little bit of a smile from her, and at last she stopped messing with the knife. The waiter brought our drinks and menus, explained that there were no specials on weeknights, and said he would be back in a few minutes to take our orders.

The rest of the evening went off with light conversation and no attempt at physical contact. I tried to keep the focus on her, whether she had any job plans, where she thought she would live, was there maybe a cruise in the offing. Basically, what she returned was that she as completely unsure about where her life would lead, except that it would continue to rely on Martha, Mary and Joan for support and guidance.

After dessert and coffee I offered to drive Susan home but she said that she’d driven herself in Martha’s car. I asked her if I could call her and she gave me her cell phone number, which I called while we were still at the table, so that my number would be on hers. As we left the restaurant and began to go our separate ways, Susan surprised me when she gave me a hug. As we stood there, briefly cheek to cheek, she whispered in my ear, “Thank you John, tonight was wonderful,” and then, before I had time to make any wrong moves, she was gone.

I must have done alright because when I woke up I had texts from Joan (“Looking good”) and Martha (“SFSG. Try not 2 scru up”). Most importantly, by the time I had gotten ready for work there was a text from Susan (“TY! 4 last nite. Dinner 2nite? Pls call.”) So far so good indeed.

I called Susan from work and we set up dinner at Tapas Barcelona, another great restaurant in Evanston. Significantly, I thought, she asked if I would pick her up at her place, which raised the likelihood that I would be taking her back to her place. Interesting.

I called Mary and asked if she could arrange a parking space for me in the garage under her building so that I could more easily pick Susan up and bring her back. Mary asked me for how long and I told her I wasn’t planning to spend the night, so midnight would be okay. In spite of being born with a gold spoon in her mouth, Mary is a serious businesswoman, so her simple “Okay, not a problem,” did not tell whether that was the right answer or not.

Susan was noticeably less tense all through this evening. I’d made a table reservation just in case, but when we arrived the bar was mostly empty and I suggested that we sit there for the closer proximity it would allow. Throughout the evening as we talked of inconsequential things I managed to brush against Susan and touch her hand while we shared bites of each other’s food, and she didn’t flinch or draw away. As before, I limited my booze intake, but Susan upped hers, from one dink the night before to two.

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

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

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are at least eighteen years old.

As always, any political, social or religious views in this story are those of the characters and their circumstances, and don’t necessarily reflect those of the author.

SPECIAL NOTE: This installment includes the description of a graphic and illegal act of extreme brutality, the morality of which is debatable. Reader discretion is advised.

*****

PART ELEVEN — Homegoings and Danger Close

We manage to get Teri back into her bedroom with a minimum of fuss, but she’s nearly comatose from the trauma of what’s happened to her, and worse, what nearly happened. I can’t blame her for being afraid; on the contrary, I blame myself for letting the creep get anywhere near her. It doesn’t matter that he shouldn’t have been able to find her, now he knows where she lives. It’s up to me to make sure he never gets near her again.

I hire a company to install an eight-foot-tall chain link fence all the way around the sides and back of the property, enclosing the orchard and residence both, and mow down everything within fifteen feet on our side of it. I install spikes along the ten-foot-high stucco wall that surrounds the residence and replace the original gates at the street with ones much more difficult to scale. Then I install cameras and motion alarms on the fence and the wall, all hooked into a much more sophisticated, monitored alarm system.

Teri’s nervous about the idea, but I teach Anna how to use my shotgun and have her practice dryfiring with a laser targeting system until she’s comfortable with it. We store it loaded in the living room, housed in a custom coffee table with a hidden compartment. Either of us can get to it from anywhere in the house, given ten seconds notice. If it comes to that, we hope it will be enough.

No fortress is impregnable, but at least if the creep shows up here, he’s going to have his work cut out for him.

* * * * *

By the day after her attempted abduction, Teri is able to join us through her Double. After a week, she can physically venture out into the house as long as one of us is with her at all times, but she won’t swim or go outside, much less go anywhere in the motorhome again. Her forward progress has completely stalled out.

Anna and I know this constant fear can’t be good for Teri, either mentally or physically, and we are, of course, willing to do anything to help her. There’s still one avenue we haven’t pursued, so I reach out for help.

* * * * *

Dr. Howard Jenson is the psychologist who’s been seeing Teri regularly for the last few years. I’m very interested in meeting with him and hearing what he thinks about Teri’s condition, but I’m not going to fly to Minnesota and leave the girls in the house without me. The good doctor, however, is more than willing to make a house call after I offer to fly him and his wife down to Miami for the weekend and put them up in a top-shelf beachside resort.

I ring the hired limo through the front gate when it arrives and meet him in the circle drive in front of the house. Dr. Jenson is a trim, fiftyish man with a remarkably thick gray beard and even thicker glasses. Teri and Anna are waiting for us just inside the door. Anna has a simple (for her) spread laid out, and we discuss how things have been going for Teri over lunch.

Dr. Jenson is impressed with the strategies that Teri had used to set Kira onto an even keel when she emerged the last time in Minnesota. He’s even more so at the steps we took to make her comfortable when she transitioned back to being Teri here in Florida.

Anna and I tell the good doctor about how Teri had ended up in Cozumel, what had happened there, her subdued return to Minneapolis, and her more recent experiences in Florida, including the attempted kidnapping.

Teri tells him about Kira’s discovery that her mother had been intercepting Maya’s letters. Dr. Jenson nods. “I never had the opportunity to meet ‘Maya’, but it did strike me as odd that she never tried to leave anything for Teri.”

“Her parents never had you talk to her during an episode?” Anna asks incredulously. “It would seem to be a slam dunk if they really wanted to get to the heart of the issue.”

“I’m afraid I can’t speculate as to their motives,” he says. I have the feeling that he has some strong ideas on that subject, but his professionalism is stopping him from sharing them.

“So where does this separate personality of Teri’s come from?” I ask.

“Well,” he says, “Teri’s fear and anxiety are somewhat typical for someone in her position. Her ‘episodes’ are more unusual, but hardly unprecedented.”

“You’ve seen this kind of thing before?”

“Not personally, but there are many such cases in the literature. sakarya escort Conditions such as hers are difficult to diagnose, though. My best hypothesis is that her manic phases are a way of escaping the dread of her attacker when the fear has had time to slowly, but steadily, build to a flashpoint. I don’t believe her transition is instantaneous, however. From listening to her parent’s accounts, it seems that Teri has certain precursors to her manic phase.”

“Really?” I ask. “Such as?”

“In the hours before the full-blown onset, she becomes less fearful and is able to do things that she’s not usually able to do, even though she still thinks of herself as Teri. In this transitional period, she sometimes makes poor choices regarding her personal safety.” He gives Teri an apologetic look. She waves it off.

I consider his words for a moment, then nod. “It’s always seemed strange to us that if Teri was too scared to leave the house, how did she manage to walk out into the front yard to retrieve a newspaper? She says she has no idea.”

“At the time I did it, it felt perfectly normal,” Teri says. “In retrospect, I’m amazed that I could have worked up that kind of courage. With the way things have gone, my abductor should have been waiting for me at the curb.”

“And that’s probably why she got so scared when I surprised her,” I say.

Teri nods.

“Exactly,” Dr. Jenson says. “Another time, right before one of her episodes, her father witnessed her walking through the house wearing only her bra and panties. This was not something she would have normally been comfortable doing.”

“That’s very true,” Teri says.

“Then there are the accounts of the wild scenarios that Maya, or Kira, comes up with during her manic stage,” the doctor says. “This has been something of a puzzle for me.”

Anna jumps in. “Kira told us that she believes she comes up with these to avoid facing the fact that, for all practical purposes, she’s going to die when she leaves her manic phase.”

He nods thoughtfully. “That’s quite possible. All in all, hers is a most puzzling affliction.”

“So, what’s the best treatment for it?” I ask.

“Well, there are a whole range of drugs that can be used to treat anxiety, but with extreme cases like Teri’s, their effectiveness is spotty at best, especially when you consider that her anxiety is actually quite reasonable for someone in her position. After some less-than-satisfactory experiences with them, neither Teri nor I believe that psychotropic medications are the answer for her.”

“What about other kinds of strategies?” I ask.

Dr. Jenson sighs. “Normally, a change of scenery might help, like it seemed to be doing here at first. Unfortunately, it seems that the improvement was undone when her attacker followed her here.” He looks to Teri, who nods. “How did he find you, if I might ask?”

“We have no idea,” she says, “and I don’t think moving again would help. He’s just going to find me again anyway.”

“We’ll keep you safe from now on,” I say.

She nods. “I know, but the idea that he could be just outside these walls terrifies me.” She shivers. “And I hate the idea that you and Anna are stuck here, guarding me. That’s not fair to you.”

“Hon,” Anna says, “we’re not exactly adventure travelers. We’d rather be here with you anyway.”

“Absolutely,” I say, meaning it.

Eventually our visit is over. I walk Dr. Jenson to the limo. The chauffeur starts to get out to walk around and open the door, but I wave him back and do it myself.

“Doctor,” I ask as he gets in, hoping to get a last word of advice now that we’re not in front of Teri, “is there anything else that you might recommend?”

He leaves the door open and I squat down to be face-to-face with him. “Teri’s best course of treatment would be to remove her source of anxiety,” he says.

“So we need to catch him and get him locked up for good?” Like I haven’t thought about that a thousand times.

He studies my face carefully. I can see that he’s trying to decide whether to say something more. Finally, he does.

“I’ve treated many patients who have been through traumatic events, but what that poor girl has suffered is more than most people could handle. Her fear of her kidnapper is extreme, and unlikely to dissipate simply because he’s in the custody of a rather porous legal system.”

He pauses for a long moment. “This isn’t really within the scope of prescription that I normally provide for my patients, but honestly, for her to have any chance of being free of her fear, I believe that she will need to see dramatic proof that the threat has been ended permanently.” Again, the pause. “I’m sure you can work out the rest for yourself.”

I stand up and close the door for him, then the limo rolls away. I ponder his words as I walk back to the house. If I’m not mistaken, the doctor has just told me that I need to kill Teri’s assailant, and do it in front of her.

* sakarya escort bayan * * * *

We get the news in mid-October that Anna is pregnant again, with a due date of late May. She’s totally stoked when she gives me the news. I pick her up and spin her around in my arms. Gently. I also give her a big kiss, on the lips. Having Teri nearby has at least been enough to allow that, happily.

“I’m sure it’ll go better this time,” I reassure her, though with no evidence.

She nods happily. “I’m sure you’re right. There was always this strong feeling last time that made me feel something was wrong with the baby. I tried to put it out of my mind, thinking I was being paranoid, but it turned out to be true. This time, everything feels perfect. I think this one’s a keeper.”

Still, we’re both a little gun-shy about telling friends and family. Anna’s mom had been nearly inconsolable after the loss of our first. Anna’s little brothers had taken it hard too. We do tell Teri though.

“That is so awesome!” she enthuses. She excitedly gives Anna a chaste hug.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Anna tells her.

“Hey, I had nothing to do with it, other than convincing Kira to come down here.”

“Like Anna said…”

Teri smiles and nods. “You’re welcome. It was the least I could do for you guys after everything you’ve done for me.”

* * * * *

Anna’s pregnancy indeed goes well, and by Christmas she’s got a definite baby-bump. It’s only going to get bigger. A lot bigger, since the most recent ultrasound has revealed that we’re having twins. I’m ridiculously proud of Anna, Kira and myself. We’re all three working on baby names, two for girls and two for boys, because we’ve decided not to be told the sex of our children in advance. It should be a good surprise during the delivery.

Teri spends quite a bit of time video chatting with her folks in the run-up to the holidays, but there’s no way she’s going to be ready to travel. Her mom blames me, of course, both for her near kidnapping and for her daughter being away, but there’s not much I can do about that.

Mick and Sandy invite us to come up to the farm for Christmas, so Anna and I have to explain about Teri and how, because of her, we’re not going to be able to travel this year. We bite the bullet and enlighten them regarding the nature of our three-way relationship.

“I wondered if that was it,” Mick says when we finish. “When you two explained about having another girl as a friend when you first met in Mexico, I wondered if she was a part of the ‘certain very limited circumstances’ that allowed you to get pregnant.”

“I know all of this must sound really weird,” Anna says apologetically.

Sandy’s having none of Anna’s contrition. “Well if that’s what it takes for a loving couple like you to have kids, then God bless Kira, I say.”

“I agree,” Mick says. “We’d like to meet Kira, or Teri, as the case may be.”

Again, I’m amazed at the acceptance they’re willing to show us, in marked contrast to the narrow stereotypes that us city residents are liable to attribute to rural folk like them.

Anna and I invite them to come stay with us for the holidays. It’s mostly as a formality, because we know that even outside of the growing season, they’re tied to the farm by the necessity of taking care of their livestock. They surprise us once again by accepting, saying that Anna’s Uncle Tim has been staying with them for a while after getting out of the service and can take care of the chores. We suddenly realize that we’re going to have to get busy and make the place ready for company.

* * * * *

It’s going to be my first real Christmas in a family setting and I’m like a… well… like a kid at Christmas. My mom didn’t do much for the holidays when I was a kid. She’d been raised a good communist, and even after a decade in a free country, she hadn’t been able to shake the belief that religion was a “tool of the bourgeoisie” and “the opiate of the masses,” not that Christmas in America was much of a religious holiday by then. As a kid, I’d always gotten a present or two, but there had been little Christmas spirit in our tiny apartment.

Anna and Teri have gone all out, though, (with my enthusiastic help) and decorated our home like something out of a magazine. Multiple tall trees, wreathes, lights and (at my suggestion, and with only a small eye roll on Anna’s part) a big inflatable Santa Clause with sleigh and reindeer on the roof. The only thing missing is snow, which is hard to come by in southern Florida.

Our biggest concern about their visit is the worry that Teri won’t be able to handle having four strangers in the house for a week. Teri has insisted that it’s not a big deal, and that she’ll just hide out in her room if that turns out to be necessary.

* * * * *

If we had imagined a relaxed Christmas with everyone just sitting around, we would have been badly mistaken. Mick escort sakarya and Sandy aren’t used to sitting, and they’re not about to do it now. Sandy bustles around helping her daughter with the final preparations while Mick lends me a hand on home repair projects I’ve been putting off. Even though I could afford to hire those things done, I do them myself to avoid having strange men in the house near Teri. There’s also a nice sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing you can fix whatever goes wrong by yourself.

To be a good host, I’ve put my PRT project aside for the duration of their visit, but Mick is very interested in what exactly I do for a living, so I take him on a tour. It takes him a bit to wrap his mind around the concept of Personal Rapid Transit, but when he does, he comes up with a couple of insightful objections and suggestions that I hadn’t thought about. The man’s no dummy, and if he hadn’t chosen farming as his living, I suspect he might have made a fine engineer.

He positively drools over the high-tech machines in my shop, but with a lifetime’s experience of maintaining complex farm machinery on a budget, he’s able to show me a trick or two. Mick’s a good man, and being around him reminds me of just how much I missed having my father while I was growing up. I find myself hoping that I can form a good relationship with him.

Jacob and Ethan, now eleven and ten respectively, are impressed beyond words by our place, and the very concept of warm weather at Christmas positively delights them. They spend a lot of their time and energy hanging out in the pool, playing video games on my latest and greatest consoles, and exploring the orchard. I get my first feel for what it will be like to have children in our house and decide that I’d best continue my exercise routine if I’m to have any chance of keeping up with them.

Amazingly, Teri seems to really enjoy hanging out with the boys when they’re indoors and manages to put them to shame in both swimming and gaming (which they have little time for at home.) Perhaps it’s the feeling of security that comes from having more people between her and her abductor, but Teri is more carefree than we’ve seen her since the day at the beach.

For all of Jacob and Ethan’s rambunctiousness, they’re amazingly polite, well-spoken and respectful of adult authority. Anna informs me that this is due to strict, but loving and consistent discipline, and that we’ll be applying the same to our own children.

My only thoughts about parenting to this point (when I’ve thought about it at all) have been to spoil my kids with everything my newfound wealth can buy. Upon further reflection, though, I come to realize that the kids I’ve seen raised that way tended to be insufferable by the time they reached the Jacobson boys’ ages. I realize for the hundredth time just how lucky I am to have married Anna.

* * * * *

After a wonderful Christmas holiday, things settle into a relaxed routine during the first few months of the year. We know that Kira could return at any time, but by the last week of March, she still hasn’t put in her appearance. She’s late.

As if that isn’t worrisome enough, we get some scary news from Minneapolis. Teri’s dad has slipped and fallen on the ice trying to make his way down the steps in front of the house. It was at almost the exact spot where Teri and I first met. He’s hit his head and there’s swelling in his brain. His doctors have put him into an induced coma to help reduce the swelling, but it’s touch and go.

“Oh God,” Teri moans when she hangs up with her mom after hearing the extent of her father’s injuries. “I need to be there, but I can’t.”

“We can try,” I say. “I’d be more than willing to drive you.”

“You’d do that?” she asks.

“Of course I would. We just need to get you back to the point where you can ride in the motorhome.”

“I would do whatever it takes,” she says, “but I’m just not sure I can handle the idea of traveling back to where the creep lives. He was able to track me here, so maybe he’d know if I was back in Minneapolis. The thought of being near him again is enough to give me the shakes, but I can’t stand the idea of not being there for my dad, either.”

That’s a tough one, and I can sympathize with her wanting to be with her father. “Teri,” I say, “if we go, I promise to do everything in my power to protect you.”

She looks me in the eye. “You promise?”

“You have my word on it.”

She nods. “Good enough for me.”

By the next afternoon, Teri has taken up residence in the motorhome, trying to get herself as used to it as possible. We all know that it’s one thing for her to ride eighteen miles to the beach in it, but another to travel eighteen hundred to Minneapolis. She sticks with it, though.

Teri knows that she can’t go into the hospital itself. That’s just way more than she’d be able to handle, so there’s no sense in going to Minneapolis yet. We’ll have to wait until her father comes home.

Carl is brought out of his coma after three days and is able to talk coherently with Marsha and the nurses, a major relief. After two weeks, we get the word that he will be going home in a few days. It looks like he’s going to make a full recovery, but Teri is still adamant about seeing him.

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

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

1998 Charing Cross station, London 7.15am Sunday

Graham was slumped wearily against the wall next to the still closed W.H Smiths, his outstretched legs clad in faded black combat trousers, trainers and a big thick, cable knit pure wool sweater stretched almost down to his knees. His army surplus bush jacket bulged with the night’s accumulated bits of paper, pens, glue sticks and the miscellaneous crap he needed to survive the journey home. He rifled periodically through the battered rucksack by his side, pulling out Sunday magazine supplements and various newspaper sections. He was tired, bored and just wanted to get home.

This was his regular spot, and the CCTV cameras that monitored the concourse probably watched him a lot less suspiciously than they had when he first started camping out here at weekends. A couple of times in the past he’d been approached by transport police and been required to show he had a ticket. Other times kindly souls had left handfuls of coins on his rucksack, assuming he was homeless. That was usually when he’d fallen asleep. Today however, it was too cold to sleep.

Graham scanned the departure board and noting with a sigh the usual long list of cancelled, delayed and rerouted trains, returned to his desultory reading.

He’d finished work just before six, grabbed a quick MacDonald’s breakfast at London Bridge and had then jumped on the first passing train to Charing Cross. Bitter experience had taught him that although he could catch his train home from London Bridge, Charing Cross, being his route’s terminus, would give him more options, more information and hopefully a better chance of grabbing an empty compartment.

If he kept a sharp eye on the destination board indicator, he could be on the right platform as the Hastings train came in and emptied of passengers. Then he could bag a compartment to himself and stretch out and sleep for its nearly two hours return journey to the coast. The platform to his right was usually the right platform.

He still had well over an hour to wait though, and all the signs pointed to it being one of those all too frequent nightmare weekend journeys that would take half the day.

It was February, bitterly cold and the stone floor of the station had already numbed his buttocks and prevented him from catching up on any sleep. There would probably be snow along the lower lying areas of the route, frozen points, broken heaters and a myriad of related problems adding to the already over-running maintenance work, lack of staff and general incompetence that plagued the British rail network.

He looked around at the handful of other would-be passengers standing aimlessly, milling around or staring disconsolately at the constantly clacking departure board. A few just shrugged dejectedly and wandered off, some shouted into mobile phones and a small group remonstrated with a member of staff who had foolishly allowed himself to be caught out alone on the open concourse. Graham had toyed recently with the idea of getting a mobile phone, but considered them hideously expensive, with patchy coverage anywhere outside of London, and in any case, he just wasn’t really a phone person.

A lone girl caught his attention, partly because she was incredibly pretty, partly because she looked completely lost, partly because she was totally underdressed for the temperature but mainly because her big Panda-like eyes indicated she had been crying.

She was, he guessed, in her early twenties, probably only a few years younger than himself. Small, with shortish black hair, she had that waifish look he had always found attractive. Not too thin and with nice pert breasts and lightly tanned skin, she had an alert but vulnerable look about her. She was wearing a short white skirt, no tights, small cheap trainers with little white socks and a thin cropped top and tiny white leather jacket. The jacket appeared to have no practical function whatsoever, either in keeping her warm or in providing pockets to put anything useful in. She slowly wandered in his direction and as she spotted him, he sat up, pulled his legs in, caught her eye and smiled.

Graham was not completely surprised when people approached him on the station concourse. Maybe it was because he was a regular there, and he looked like he knew what was going on, or maybe because the station was so quiet at this time on a Sunday morning, and he just looked friendly and unthreatening. Graham was, he’d been led to believe, good looking and had a friendly and helpful manner. He also always had a good supply of reading matter and was happy to share. Given that hardly anything opened here until at least nine, that was indeed a bonus.

The lone girl approached him, looking around the station at the confusing and in some cases contradictory array of information on display.

“Excuse me, is this the platform for the Hastings train?” She asked nervously, looking at the platform nearest to where he was sitting.

“Yes, but it’s going to be a while yet. Bad night?” Graham asked, looking at her smudged and streaked makeup.

She beylikdüzü escort attempted a smile. “Totally shit! Do I look a mess?” She asked almost apologetically.

Without answering he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a small packet of tissues and handed it to her.

“Your makeup does need a bit of essential maintenance!” he said hoping the rail network’s cliched excuse would cheer her up.

Without acknowledging the reference, she looked at her reflection in the windows of the still dark newsagents, spat on the tissue and started removing the streaked makeup.

“Better?” She turned to him and asked.

“Yes, I thought I could see a pretty girl under there.” He smiled.

“I’m Graham,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Angie.” she replied.

“What happened?” He tentatively asked.

“Came up to town in Steve, my boyfriend’s car last night to go to a party, had a blazing row and when I turned around, he’d gone. I spent a couple of hours waiting for him to come back and when he didn’t, I just walked down here.”

“So… He just abandoned you?” Graham was quite shocked.

“Its… A long story…” Angie was suddenly reticent, and Graham noticed she was shivering.

“Bloody hell! You must be freezing.” Graham stood and took off his jacket and sweater, handing the sweater to her.

“Put this on, it’s not exactly squeaky clean but it’ll keep you a bit warm at least until the train comes. You’re going to Hastings then?” He had absolutely no idea why he had made the gesture, what had kicked off some inner Walter Raleigh in him, but it had just seemed the right thing to do.

“Couple of stops before; Robertsbridge. Are you sure about the sweater? Won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I’ve got the jacket and sweatshirt and can always stuff them with newspaper if it gets bad! I’m going to Hastings, but I do this every weekend so I’m sort of used to it.” He realised he was probably sounding a bit cavalier, but he had embarrassed himself by his impromptu act of chivalry and wanted now to make light of it.

“It’ll be a lot warmer on the train.” He promised, not completely convinced that would be true.

She took the pointless little jacket off and pulled the sweater over her head. It came to just below her knees. She pulled up the sleeves and with the jacket in her lap, sat down next to him, ruffling up her hair.

“Thanks, that’s cosy.” She said giving him an appreciative smile and pulling her legs in under the sweater.

They chatted for a while leafing through his pile of magazines and finally curiosity got the better of her and she asked.

“So how come you’ve got all these mags, newspapers and stuff?”

“Worked last night reading the papers, for a Press cuttings agency. I only do weekends, The papers have lots of extra sections, and they need more people to go through them all. I used to do it full time but after I moved down to Hastings the commute got too much.” He explained.

“Sounds interesting!” She said politely.

“No! It isn’t really, and I have this horrible journey up and down every weekend. I usually try to sleep on the train if I can.” He smiled and then with a sudden realisation he asked.

“How are you fixed for a ticket?”

She looked embarrassed and ruefully confessed.

“I’m not, I left my handbag in Steve’s car, he usually pays when we go out and he said I’d only get it stolen or lose it if I took it in the club.”

She admitted that she hadn’t travelled by train for years and had thought she could just give her address to the guard on the train and pay later. Graham explained that had sometimes been the case in the past, but the ticket inspectors were a lot more unsympathetic now. He wasn’t too impressed with what he was learning about Steve.

“Steve sounds like a bit of a control freak.” Graham said, immediately regretting making such a judgemental statement and hoping he hadn’t offended her.

“Oh no. he’s right. I have lost my bag before, and he’s been very patient with me in the past. I am a bit of an idiot at times.” She seemed very quick to jump to Steve’s defence.

Graham decided not to press it, although he was shocked that anyone could abandon their girlfriend late at night in London unprotected and with no means of getting home.

“Look, we’ve still got just under an hour before this bloody train is due. Why don’t we go and get some breakfast and sort you out a ticket?” Graham had noticed a couple of kiosks had opened, and she looked like she needed something to warm herself up.

“I don’t want to impose on you, you’ve already been so kind with the sweater.” She protested.

“It’s no problem, it’s only a couple of quid.” It was actually a bit more than that, but he reckoned he could wrangle some deal with his travelcard and at least get her a discount.

They picked up everything and stuffed it in Graham’s rucksack, including her little leather jacket, which turned out to be made of flimsy lightweight vinyl and was much too small to have fitted over the thick sweater. beylikdüzü escort bayan Graham thought how cute she looked in his sweater but didn’t want to alarm her by saying as much.

They got coffee and croissants which they drank and ate as they stood in the queue at the ticket office. He bought her a ticket, and paid for it with his credit card, and they returned to their spot by the gates to the Hastings platform.

Eventually the display above the gates announced the train’s imminent arrival and they wandered through the unmanned barrier to the empty platform. Graham was pleased to see very few people following them. It was going to be a virtually empty train. Graham stopped at the point where he knew a first-class carriage would pull up and they scanned the line to where it disappeared into the early pre-dawn light over the Thames.

He explained at length about the individual compartments.

“There’s usually one at the end of the first-class carriages, next to the toilet. It’s downgraded to second-class because of that. They call it decommissioned first-class and if you get in there first, just sit facing back towards the platform entrance and smile at anyone who looks like they’re going to try and open your door; They think you must be some sort of a nutter and won’t risk sharing a compartment with you! It’s a very British thing, we hate having to talk to strangers, particularly over-friendly ones! Once the train starts moving, I usually stretch out and can kip for most of the journey.”

“That’s sneaky! You are clever.” Angie looked surprisingly impressed.

The train snaked into the platform, and as he had predicted they were standing in just the right spot for the compartment he had described. It was a surprisingly long train, a couple of dozen people got off and the platform echoed with the sound of heavy compartment doors being slammed shut. As he opened the door and shepherded Angie aboard, he noted with satisfaction that at the front end of the train a cyclist was loading his bike through two side doors.

“Guard’s van.” He pointed out and then explained.

“That cyclist won’t want to sit too far from his bike and the guard probably won’t bother leaving his compartment. On a quiet train most people will want to sit close to the guard’s van, and at some of the smaller stations the platforms are too short to let people off from these rear carriages.”

“So, we’ll probably have the back of the train to ourselves.” He announced triumphantly, suddenly painfully aware that she might not want to spend a long train journey with a boring stranger on an almost empty train!

Graham realised that for some reason he’d assumed that’s what she wanted but he couldn’t work out why. She didn’t seem particularly bothered by his rather pedantic manner and seemed to enjoy his company. He was pleasantly surprised to find he hadn’t apparently bored her yet! A few other passengers walked past and seeing where the guard’s van was, hurried towards it. He was pleased his prediction of an almost empty train was proving correct.

He sat down opposite Angie facing the direction of travel, whilst she took his advice and smiled maniacally at anyone who walked past. She seemed to enjoy seeing their reactions. A few people walked past but none tried their door. He explained how he could now stretch out and sleep facing the front of the train better than on the side where she was sitting.

“If the train brakes or slows down quickly I don’t roll off the seat.” He explained

“And if it accelerates?” She’d thought it out.

“You’ve got to be kidding, Its Southern Rail, not a bloody Ferrari!” He laughed.

Graham realised that by now people had usually started to go glassy eyed at his train journey analytics, but Angie seemed genuinely impressed.

“You’re like the Michael Caine of Southern Rail!” She laughed.

He looked at her curiously, not sure if she was mocking him, but quite flattered anyway.

A whistle blew and with a series of clunks the train started to move and they looked out the window as it clattered over the Thames, the waters of the river grey in the winter morning light.

London Bridge was quiet, a few people boarded, and a few people got off and as they pulled out, Graham laid his rucksack down by the window, took off his jacket, folded it over the rucksack and stretched out on the seat.

“Sorry, my back’s killing me! Just need to stretch it for a minute, it’s been a long night.” He said apologetically.

He was surprised, but not a little thrilled, when she came over to him.

“Budge up, I’m cold!” She demanded, and he turned on his side and pressed his back into the seat as she lay down and pushed her back into him. Without a word she reached back and pulled his arm over her to stop herself from rolling off. She snuggled up to him and without another word being said, they were soon both asleep.

They woke to the sounds of doors slamming, footsteps, voices and whistles blowing and realised the train was slowly pulling out of escort beylikdüzü Tonbridge. To Graham’s acute embarrassment he realised he had an erection pressing into Angie’s bottom and his arm over her breasts. His head had been nuzzling against the back of hers, and with fine black hairs slowly peeling off his face he lifted it. She smelled wonderful, even his old sweater smelled wonderful. She half turned and he could just see the edge of a smile. Her hand squeezed his and she wriggled back gently into him.

They stayed in that position, half awake and not speaking until the train had left Tunbridge Wells and was trundling through the open East Sussex Countryside.

The temperature had dropped significantly, even the closeness of their bodies couldn’t disguise that and reluctantly they disengaged and sat up to look out the windows. Now all they could see were snow covered fields and feel the wheels of the train struggling at times to make contact. What little heat had been warming the carriage through the antiquated heating system was soon overwhelmed by the draft coming in through the rattling windows.

Imperceptibly the train started to slow down and after a series of stops and starts, it juddered to a complete standstill. Suddenly the dim, but vaguely comforting carriage lights flickered and went out. What little heating there had been ebbed away. Silence and the grey chill of the weak morning light, descended on the stationary rain.

“Oh Shit!” Graham had a good idea as to why they had lost power; Either the live rail had iced over or there had been some electrical malfunction.

Angie looked worried and Graham draped his jacket over her shoulders and put his arm around her. Half an hour passed, and they wrapped themselves around each other even closer. She was getting colder, and Graham realised she was starting to panic.

“We’re not that far from Tunbridge Wells, maybe closer to Wadhurst. The roads are probably ok. We’ll be ok. They’ll come and get us.” Graham tried to reassure her.

“Come to get us? How?”

“Probably send a diesel and a couple of carriages to ferry us to the nearest station. Or just push us forward a bit. Those old diesels can get through a foot of snow, and I doubt it’s actually that thick. Its only early so it will probably all thaw out as the sun gets higher.” He didn’t have much confidence in any of this happening too quickly.

They busied themselves, plugging the draughty windows with newspaper and then sat back down hugging each other tightly for warmth.

A knock on the passage door made them turn and they saw the guard standing outside.

He was holding a thick bundle of miscellaneous blankets and told them what they had already worked out.

“The live rail’s iced over so we can’t draw any power from it. It’s just a localised problem, we’re in a dip in the line where the temperature’s lower than the surrounding countryside; The cold gets trapped in the hollows. According to the radio the line is clear from Wadhurst to the coast, warmer and sunny as well, apparently. They’re sending up a Diesel to shunt us forward. It’s going to take a couple of hours and in the meantime, I’ve got some blankets to help you keep warm. They’re none to clean I’m afraid, they’ve been used to cushion bikes and stuff in the guard’s van.” The guard was apologetic and was trying his best to help.

“How many still on the train?” Graham asked, selecting a couple of the bigger and seemingly cleaner blankets.

“Only a handful. Still got two more carriages at the back to check, but I think you’re probably the last. Best stay here and I’ll make an announcement when power is restored.”

He moved on and they wrapped themselves in the blankets.

A few minutes later he came back and offering them the rest of the blankets, explained,

“It’s empty back there. The Driver is trying to clear snow from the front and I’m going to give him a hand by putting some salt down to try and thaw the live rail and give the wheels some traction. We’ll be out of here as soon as we can get a push! I’ll leave you the rest of the blankets in the meantime.”

The guard had only been gone a few minutes when Angie grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around herself and said decisively.

“I’ve got to go to the loo!”

Graham pointed to the left as she stood at the passage door to the compartment.

“Should be next door!” He told her. She smiled and disappeared.

A few minutes later she returned, still wrapped in the blanket, but carrying his sweater and jacket draped over her arm.

“Thanks for that, I’m feeling warmer now!” She said and handed them to him.

Mentally Graham cursed the guard for supplying the blankets, he’d really been looking forward to cuddling up under the blankets with Angie and the sweater had looked so damn sexy on her. He folded the sweater and bush jacket over the rucksack and wrapped his blanket around himself disappointedly.

Graham cursed his ineptitude with girls. So many times, in the past, he’d got to this stage but never seemed to be able to make the decisive move, He had tried in the beginning but after a series of humiliating rejections he’d just given up. ‘Let’s just be friends!’ had been the fucking story of his life and he silently groaned as it appeared to be happening yet again. He’d been silly to expect their earlier closeness to lead to anything, he told himself.

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