Ay: Mart 2023

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

I sat by the window looking at the waves lap up on the shore. They seemed to hiss as they rolled slowly back out to sea before returning. It was almost hypnotic to watch, and I wondered if the guy sitting at the bar was feeling as lonely as I was.

I had come in about an hour earlier and had dinner. At that time I was hungry for their famous seafood chowder, but not company. Now finished and pensive, I sipped my drink and let my eyes wander back to him.

I had watched as a number of different women tried to engage him in conversation, but although congenial, he never really showed any interest. perhaps thats why he intrigued me so.

He was extremely good looking and well built, so my first impression was that he was one of those hunks that ultimately turns out to be an airhead.

But now I had an uncontrollable urge to try my own wiles on him. I finished my drink, and left a tip. Then waited a moment before going to the bar and took a seat. The bar was almost empty but I deliberately took a stool that wasn’t too close but close enough for me to watch him in the mirror.

I ordered another drink and tried to see his left hand. He wore no ring, but now days that really doesn’t mean much. His fingers were long and his nails well manicured. He seemed sort of sad and I imagined a thousand reasons why.

Perhaps he had broken up with a girl friend, or maybe he needed a job. It could be anything, but having seen him avoid being picked up, I rather thought he would be open to a safe conversation. One that wasn’t pretentious or threatening.

Yeah, sure, I wanted to be picked up. I was lonely tonight and at the very least, I would settle for a little conversation. I was about start something by talking with the bartender and see if I could get him interested in me, when this tall blonde moved in and took a stool just to his left.

I just happen to be a brunette, but I do have a damn good figure and perky boobs so I figure I’m a contender. Momentarily I was disappointed, but apparently she wasn’t with him.

She sat quietly for a moment, ordered a drink and turned towards him. Her line was the worst I have ever heard, and she was pushy. She had come on with, “Hi handsome do you know there theres any action in this town?”

I was actually embarrassed for her.

Now her hand was on his arm, and I could only hear parts of what was being said. He wasn’t very responsive and called the bartender over. “The lady was wondering if there’s anywhere around where she could go thats got music and some action. I think she means a club or something.

Now the bartender was interested and began a conversation with her, effectively getting him off the hook.

I smiled to myself. He was cool and the way he did it was both courteous and effective. She was now trapped in a conversation with a hungry bartender who was already telling her what time he got off.

I guess they agreed to meet somewhere later and she got up looked back at him and left in a huff. I smiled to myself and decided just how I would get to him.

I began. “Very well done. And I suppose you might even have fixed our friend here up for the evening.” He looked at me. “I mean the bartender. I think he’s going out with her later.” Now he nodded.

I wanted to go over, but kept my seat. I didn’t want to crowd him.

“From around here,” I asked.

“No. No I’m not. Just here for a month or so. I’m going to be instructing a class at the college. I’m starting next Monday. So I guess, yeah, you could say I’m sort of a stranger in town. And you?”

I was in.

I answered, “No. Sort of of like you I guess. I’m here for an interview. I may become an instructor at the college too. That is if everything goes well.

He nodded and I went on. “What’s your class on? I mean the subject.”

“I’m a doctor and I’m going to teach pain management. You know massage and medication, diagnosis, and all that.

I nodded. Now he smiled and asked: “Why don’t you join me, we’re sort of both involved with the college in a way, aren’t we?”

Forty five minutes later I was so damn infatuated with him that my body tingled. I had never wanted a man so fucking much in my whole life. I had to put my hand in my lap to keep from touching him. escort istanbul At that point the conversation got around to, “where are you staying?”

Actually there were only two good places to stay in town. One was a motel in the outskirts, and the other a five star Hotel near the college. We were both staying there it seemed.

By now it was ten thirty and he suggested we share a cab and go back to the hotel. It couldn’t have worked out better, and on the way we chatted about more personal things.

Yes he was single. Yes he had been engaged once but it didn’t work out. Those sorts of things. I let him know that I had been married for eight months before I realized that he wasn’t the one for me. Actually I confided that he was terrible in bed and that I was sort of highly sexed if thats a bit unusual.

He didn’t seem impressed or even take up on it as I had hoped. I guess being a doctor he was used to people telling him those sort of personal things.

Anyway when we arrived at the hotel we had a nightcap at the bar there and then walked around looking in the stores and at the pool.

There was an exercise room, sauna, massage parlor, you know the usual amenities that people might enjoy during a stay. The stores were closed but the items for sale looked very upscale and expensive. I thought to myself that I might indulge myself in the morning. Perhaps do some shopping and even have a massage.

Telling him this he turned and smiled at me. “My specialty he commented. Part of my course, is on proper techniques for a massage. You know, pain management.”

I nodded and my heart beat faster. I could just imagine his strong fingers moving over my body and I was responding.

My nipples became uncomfortably sensitive to the fabric that held my breasts and some sort of sensations were coursing thru my body and centering in my pussy. I could feel myself begin to slowly contract and my panties became sticky.

I danced around the subject of having a massage in the morning and finally asked if he could give me one. I mean if they would let him use the facilities in the exercise center. He nodded yes then changed the subject.

In front of my door I was trying to think of a reason to invite him in, but I had no real excuse and I was hoping that he would ask if he could come in, but he didn’t.

Then he leaned down and our faces met. He had intended to kiss me on the cheek, but I moved my head slightly and our lips met. I reached up and put my arms around his neck and drew him to me.

I don’t know what possessed me, but what restraint I had, was gone, and my lips parted. I forced my tongue deeply into his mouth and I breathed his breath.

It could have been that I had too much to drink, or that he had felt my hunger, I don’t really know but he slid his arms down my back and he drew me tightly against him.

My legs were slightly askew and I forced my pelvis up against his thigh. I think I began to grind my pussy against him. I don’t know, but he slowly relaxed his grip and broke our kiss.

He looked down at me and whispered. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll give you that massage if you like. I think I can get them to wheel a table up to your room if you want and it will be a bit more private. Would you like that?”

I almost gagged on my own saliva as I gasped: “Yes, oh yes that would be wonderful. In the morning? Maybe around nine or so?”

He nodded again. “I don’t know what time they open up down stairs but nine sounds fine.” Then he leaned over again and kissed my cheek before turning to go.

He didn’t look back and I turned to enter my room. I was floating. I showered and shaved my body. I wanted everything to be perfect. My pussy was last, and now it was as soft and tender as freshly kneaded dough. I went to my bed with a growing throb between my thighs and a need to jill myself to sleep.

I got my toy out and turned out the lights. Laying on my back, my heels drawn up to my tush, I let my knees fall aside, and I began to masturbate.

He made love to me in my mind. I must have cum six or seven times before my toy lost it’s power and I lost my need to be satisfied. I went to sleep dreaming about tomorrow.

At seven I went down and had escort bayan istanbul breakfast. Returning to my room I found a table in the living room. On it was a stack of white linen, a gown and a decanter of oil or something.

While downstairs I had bought new batteries so I spent five or so minutes with my toy and debated using it again before he came.

He was late. At ten after nine I began to fidget and pace. I was horny and anxious beyond belief.

Finally came a soft knock on the door and I opened it. He stood there dressed all in white. White T shirt, white shorts and even white loafers. God he looked delicious.

Smiling at me he apologized for being late then told me to take a hot shower. The hotter the better he explained. It opens your pores and relaxes your muscles.

I had showered last evening but I did as he told me. Somehow this seemed less than romantic. Almost as if he were disinterested in me as a woman but more as if I were a patient or something.

I showered and came back out with a towel around my waist and another over my shoulders, hiding my breasts. He helped me onto the table and I rested my chin on the bolster with my head sort of hanging off.

He moved one towel to cover my ass, the other he took away. My breasts were presses against the course surface of the table as he began.

First the oil dribbled onto my neck and down my spine. Then his fingers began to move at the nape of my neck.

Minutes passed and I was so relaxed I felt as if my head would roll off if it could. Then he moved lower.

He wasn’t saying anything, just those long fingers and his palms kneading my body let me know he was with me. Strangely my pussy began to become my center of sensation.

It was almost as if some magical connection were being made between his caressing hands, and my cunt.

“I never use that word, I thought. “It’s not lady like, but at this moment I liked the thought. My cunt is tingling. Oh God, I’m going to cum in a minute if I don’t get control of myself.. and I suddenly began to shudder.

He either didn’t notice, or he ignored it. I had a quick orgasm and stifled a low moan.

He removed my towel and began to massage my ass and my legs. I wanted to scream to him. The warm oil on his hands slid back and forth across the cheeks of my ass and I squirmed.

His fingers moved down the crack between the puffy mounds and danced across my tight little opening. Then he leaned over me and whispered. “Relax. Just relax.”

I tried. I honestly tried but my legs involuntarily parted, inviting him to delve deeper between the cheeks of my ass. A thought crossed my mind. “he must see the wetness. I had cum and I always gush a little.

But if he saw it he said nothing.

I don’t know if it was an accident or if it was intentional but his slippery index finger began to toy with my ass, and suddenly it slipped in.

I took a deep breath and actually hunched up a little pushing against his finger, forcing it in deeper. He was driving me crazy.

“Over! He directed. We’re ready for the front now.”

I didn’t even try to hide anything, I just rolled to my side then onto my back and kept my eyes closed.

Suddenly a splash of warm oil, then his hands. My body shuddered. His hands moved like magic over my shoulders, down my arms and finally to my breasts. I opened my eyes and stared at him. I was breathing deeply and gasping for breath.

My nipples were hard erect points of fire as his warm palms moved across them and I felt that familiar surge of sensations creep down to my pussy. I couldn’t help myself.

I watched his face. He was staring at my breasts as he worked his hands under, over and around each and I suddenly wondered: “how can he do this to me without being aroused?”

Staring down at his shorts I had my answer.

Although he seemed to be concentrating on what he was doing, his cock had formed a tent as grew firmer and harder. He was vulnerable, and that gave me pleasure. I wasn’t the only one excited. He was too.

He worked lower, across my abs and I began to feel the cheeks of my ass clench and force my pussy upward. My body was waiting and I tried to stifle a low bayan escort istanbul moan. Suddenly I knew it. He was seducing my body and he enjoyed watching me try to resist.

Well I wasn’t going to fight any longer. I was going to just let it happen.

I reached out and grabbed his cock thru his shorts and squeezed. Now we both knew what was going on and I wasn’t totally under his control.

I held him firmly yet he just continued as if he were numb to the touch of my hand. As he came closer to the table and began to work his oily fingers down between my thighs, I released my grip on his cock.

Now reaching up slightly, I unfastened his shorts. They dropped down and he kicked them aside.

His eyes never left my pussy and now he added oil and began to massage my clit and puffy labia. My clit had swollen and must by now be protruding. I began to moan aloud. I no longer tried to be quiet. I started talking.

“Oh god Mike, Oh yeah that feels good. Right there, yes, oh yes, there, like that.

Oh shit, I’m gonna cum. Yeah, more!”

He stopped and moved his hands to my thighs working down towards my knees. I was ready to cum and he had just left me swaying with my ass up in the air.

I flopped down and moments later he returned to my throbbing cunt. Again he began to massage my groin but now his fingers moved more intimately.

First one, then two slowly found their way inside me and his thumb began to sway back and forth over my clit. I wanted to scream.

He had found my “G” spot and was caressing it with two fingers as his thumb did a dance on my clit. I frantically grabbed his cock and began tugging at it. I wanted him so fucking much I was willing to kill for it.

He actually changed positions so I could stroke his shaft while he was bringing me closer and closer to another climax. Again he paused and I whimpered.

“Don’t stop like that. Damn you. You know I need you. Oh god make me cum. Gimmee it. Your cock. Give me your cock. In my mouth, Give it to me.

I had to twist my shoulders slightly to one side but my lips closed around his hard cock and I forced him down my throat. I wasn’t going to let him get away without the two of us being satisfied.

I bobbed my head, I clutched his heavy balls, and I stroked him, but no matter how hard I tried to distract him, he kept bringing me to the edge of the world before stopping.

Once or twice I actually began to cum but he stopped me. By now I was gushing creamy white cum and he really didn’t need the oil any longer.

This wasn’t the way it should be. He had me so worked up I was sucking his cock and tearing at my nipple trying to finish.

When I finally began to beg him he looked down at me and smiled. A smug smile sure, but he had me and I needed him more than life itself. I sobbed, “fuck me Mike, Please do it? Please?”

Reaching down he lowered the table and moved between my thighs. I reached down between my legs and grabbed his cock and drew it to my cunt.

With a slow deliberate thrust I felt his cock stretch my pussy wide and slide in.

I came immediately. I couldn’t stop it. I think I peed a little, but I didn’t give a damn. It was so intense and long that the muscles in my groins ached and I slobbered down my chin as I cried out to him.

“Don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop! Keep going. Fuck me Mike, fuck my hot cunt deep and fast. Give it to me! Don’t you even think of stopping. I want it again. More! Give me more!”

I wavered between Ecstasy and depraved desire. One cum seemed to need another and I contracted hard on his cock each time I orgasmed. Over and over again I climaxed and suddenly he leaned over me and looking down gasped.

“Yeah, oh yeah, its here. Gonna shoot baby. Take it! Shooting now for you honey!”

If I had cum hard before, it was nothing compared to what happened next. I came with him. And it wasn’t just great, it was so intense and long that I think I passed out.

I remember arching my back up and pushing my breasts into his chest. Then biting down hard on his shoulder as I screeched aloud. Then I collapsed.

He pulled out and we lay panting in each others arms. Then he rolled off and helped me sit up The table was one big mess where I had cum over and over again and he had begun to ooze out, adding to the puddle on the bedding.

The afternoon was spent in bed quietly cooing to each other and petting. That evening we dined out and came home early to repeat this mornings performance. He had magic fingers but his cock was a magic wand.

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

It was a warm spring day with low humidity, but very sunny and with a light breeze, enough to where you could hear the leaves on the trees rustling. It is a perfect day to get naked and jump into the hot tub outside after a tough workout. My friend’s house had a secluded back yard so it was easy to be out there naked without drawing attention. Before that, my lady friend and I decided to relax and have a nice lunch and talk a bit. She was really into yoga but did a variety of exercise to stay in shape, so she had a very fit body and strong core. There was no telling that this woman was just over ten years by senior, but she was very hot. Beautiful face, smile and eyes, along with a contagious laugh. I’m an average athletic male with muscular legs, pretty proportionate but outweighing my female counterpart significantly, making it easy to vary our positioning and try some new stuff. It’s a healthy lunch with some fresh vegetables and lean protein and some low music playing in the background. Although it did take her some time to make it, because I kept going up to her while she was at the counter and would start kissing her from behind and rubbing up against her, causing her to grab the back of my head or rub my cock from the outside of my clothes.

After finally finishing lunch, we made our way out to her back patio and to her hot tub. As we got closer we started taking our clothes off, taking our time to get into the tub, it is slippery you know. It feels good to be free with those jets massaging tight muscles and everything just hanging out! To see her Pendik Escort breasts just floating freely and out there just took my breath away! We are seated across from each other as we just sit back and relax. I have my head back and eyes closed as the jets massage my back and parts of my thighs. I feel something sliding up my leg to my crotch, she is reaching over with her feet and playing with my cock and balls as I look up briefly to see her smiling seductively and I just smile and lay my head back down and enjoy it. When my cock really starts to harden, I make my way over to her, kissing her lips and breasts as they peek out over the water and she massages my cock as my lips start making their way around both sides of her neck. She starts caressing my body, moving her hands from my hips to my chest and playing with my nipples then slowly back down to my inner thighs and cock. As I start to stand up straight, she kisses my abdomen slowly moving to my lower abdomen and on either side of my cock, using her hand to steady it as she licks it up and down until finally putting it into her mouth. I put my hands out to the side of the tub to steady myself as she sucks and strokes my penis with a passion that says she really wants it inside her, actually moaning as she continues to suck and stroke me.

She grabs my arm to pull me down towards her as she reclines back on the tub’s bench, grabbing my cock when I’m close enough and directs it into her pussy with a loud moan. Her legs are wrapped around me and her arms are above her head as she grabs Kurtköy Escort the top of the hot tub, while my hands are outside of hers. I’m trying not to pump her too hard because the water would keep splashing in her face, but I do vary the speeds a little just for fun, her face keeping the same passionate expression throughout. She takes her hands and starts massaging my chest and says she wants to suck my cock some more, lightly pushing my chest so I can back up and give her room to start sucking and stroking my cock. She has the best cadence of sucking and stroking that makes it feel real good until I decide to return the favor, having her slide back up so she is sitting on the side of the tub.

As I kiss her inner thigh, I work my way in to her clit, licking and sucking it until I stick my tongue between her pussy lips, licking rapidly as I pleasure her clit with my thumb and she has one hand on my head. I move her legs over my shoulders and pick her up enough so I am kneeling in the water on the bench and her shoulders leaning on the side of the tub as I continue to lick her pussy as she begins to moan louder. I stop only a moment to ask if she wants my cock inside her, continuing again until she says, “yes, I want to feel you inside me!” She slides down to the bench as I have her bent over, grabbing the side of the tub as I penetrate her juicy pussy from behind, pounding her hard. She starts moaning loudly and continually expressing to fuck her harder and continues saying, “yes, yes, ahh, that’s so good!” I keep right on pounding Tuzla Escort as the water splashes around until she says she wants to be on top riding me as she looks into my eyes. So I slow down then let her up as I recline on the bench and she climbs on, slowly guiding my hard cock deep into her pussy.

She starts moving her hips slowly as she begins to ride my rod, leaning back slightly as her lean abdominals become more evident the more she moves her hips. It kind of makes it hard to caress her breasts but I still try while also enjoying them bouncing up and down and hear her joyful, passionate moans. She keeps asking me if I like it and if it feels good, between her moaning and telling me how much she likes it, and of course I give her nice short answers something along the line of “yes!” As she rides me harder and harder, and boobs bouncing, I tell her I’m about to cum right before she tells me and we cum together, both bodies gyrating with ecstasy and she leans forward onto me. Wrapping her arms around me as I keep moving my hips, trying to work all of the cum out while inside her, she’s holding me tight kissing my lips and neck.

We both get out and lie in the sun to dry off, but as we are lying there she starts to caress my body, licking, and playfully biting my nipples as she began to fondle my balls and cock. As my cock starts to get hard, she continues to kiss my lips, neck and chest while teasing y nipples and she begins to stroke my cock. She pulls one leg over top of nine to allow me to pleasure her pussy with one hand as she jerks me off faster and faster, while still teasing my nipples, until cum explodes out of my cock and she moans from her own orgasm. Gently, she rubs the cum around my abdomen, kissing it and the tip of my penis, then just lies there half on me as the sun sets on the horizon.

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

This story is entirely fiction. It’s intentionally short, with little character development; sort of an experiment for me, written in what I think of as an impressionistic style, a first foray into stroke stuff.

A very tiny, rather melancholy twist pops up at the end; hope you don’t mind. Readers on another site complained about it.

*

I sat on the top step, in the shallow end of my pool. She sat on the next step down, her head leaning back onto my chest.

We had been skinny-dipping, shielded from curious eyes by a fence and a well-tended hedge. The sun was warm on our skin, late enough not to be much of a burn hazard, still early enough to be round and full and comforting. A steady breeze sang through the trees, keeping us cool.

I idly rubbed her shoulders, eliciting equally idle murmurs; from there, I moved down to scratch her back, just like she liked. She leaned forward to accommodate me.

After a moment, I slipped my arms under hers and moved my hands around to cup her breasts. I loved squeezing them, gently, feeling their supple resistance; solid thirty-six Cs they were, all natural, with nipples half an inch long when erect. They sagged a bit — being past thirty will do that — but they’d never swollen with milk, never deflated after Ataşehir Escort weaning a child.

She leaned back into me while I massaged her lovely orbs, and said, “Feels nice.”

“You sure do,” I replied softly.

She turned her face to mine, and we shared a kiss.

When the kiss broke, she gazed into my eyes for a moment; then she said, “Eat me?”

I grinned. “How could I turn down a request like that?”

She smiled, then moved to my right, hoisting herself mostly out of the water, sitting on a towel, her legs still dangling in the water, spread wide for me.

I patted her clean-shaven mons with the edge of the towel, not wanting the taste of chlorine to hide the sweetness I knew so well. I placed little feather-soft kisses on her outer lips; I felt them swell in response, heard her breathing quicken.

I stuck my tongue into her folds, lightly, gently, feeling her petals begin to bloom fully, finding her hard little button that responded so eagerly to my efforts. I flicked it several times, caught it with my lips, and made ‘mmm’ sounds.

Her reaction told me how well I was doing.

I was past the preliminaries, tasting her juices flowing freely, and I pushed my tongue as deeply into her as I could, enjoying every Ataşehir Escort Bayan second of this oral delight. I lapped at her delicate folds, firmly, tenderly; and right when I knew she would, she shuddered, hissing out her orgasm.

I stopped my efforts as I felt her hand on my head; pulling away, I moved up to lay half-prone beside her, keeping a respectful distance, watching her flush recede, hearing her breathing regulate itself.

At length, she turned half-focused eyes to me. I kissed her; she returned the kiss gently, laconically, without passion, as she always did after an orgasm.

“I love to taste me on your lips,” she whispered.

I smiled, kissed her again.

We lay there for a few moments; she pushed me onto my back, and said, “Let’s see what you have to offer down in these parts,” as she placed her lips onto my glans.

She wasn’t a deep-throat gal, a competent fellatrix but not a pro; she sucked me into hardness, using her tongue expertly, eliciting great, pleasurable groans from me.

After a couple of minutes of servicing me, she stretched out beside me again, and said, “Your turn.”

I positioned myself between her opened legs, and slipped into her easily, her lubricants fully restored and ready Escort Ataşehir for me. Her vaginal muscles, so strong, so well-trained, assisted my thrusts in coaxing my offering from me.

“Can’t hold out,” I muttered.

“Come inside me, baby,” she said.

With that I erupted, filling her with me, wanting it to go on far longer than it would, savoring every second. We both moaned, low sounds against the insistent passing of the breeze through the hedge.

I supported myself for a moment, then reached down to kiss her once again. I slipped back to her side, spooning behind her, cupping her breast, both of us enjoying the warm glow of love, made; nuzzling her neck, I soon joined her in a light doze.

A scant half hour later we stirred. She was shivering a little; she slipped back into the warm water. I gazed at her and smiled; she returned the smile, then reached for her bathing suit, a lovely one-piece that accented her curves and retained some decorum.

She got out of the pool, reached down into a pile of her belongings, and looked at her watch.

“Four-thirty,” she said simply.

I nodded, watched her gather her items.

“Frank will be home soon. I’ll need to get a shower, so I’d best be trotting,” she said.

I sat upright. She bent over to kiss me; as we kissed, I ran a hand over her left breast. She smiled at that; then, after a final peck, turned and slipped through the gate separating our homes.

I sat for another few moments, then gathered my trunks and the couple of towels we’d used, and went inside.

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

There is something about a uniform that turns me on. I haven’t yet seen a man in one that doesn’t make my pussy throb and wet itself just because of it. I guess that is why when I saw him on the train that day I couldn’t help myself.

I watched as he chose his compartment and I followed along hoping that no one else would come in to spoil the fun.

“Hello, mind if I share this with you?” I asked and then before he could say anything I added, ” The others seem to be full.”

He looked at me and smiled. ” Why no, do sit down.”

I lifted my bag into the overhead rack. My already too short skirt was rising up above the bands on my thigh high stockings revealing the cheeks of my ass. I wore no panties and he got a real good look at my ass just peeking under the edge of my skirt. I stayed that way to give him a good look too. Finally I turned around and sat in the seat across from him. He watched my every move.

When I finally was settled he introduced himself as Charles something or another and said he was going home on leave. He said that he wasn’t married, but something told me to look at the left hand. There it was, that little telltale line around the third finger. He had removed his wedding band. That was all right as far as I was concerned. If I didn’t see a wife I didn’t feel that I was cheating on her. He asked all the polite things and I answered them and as I was talking, little by little, I was opening my legs a bit wider all the time. I didn’t do it all at once, but just a bit each time the train car swayed or jostled us. That way he could see my smooth shaved pussy lips that were now terribly wet with my honey. I could feel his eyes burning into my flesh and it made me hotter.

After a while I shifted more so that my pussy was completely visible. I could feel the cool air on it. The fact that it was now fully exposed to his view made it throb even more. I was getting so hot that I could feel the juices running slowly out of it. He continued to chat about his family. I could see that he wasn’t looking at my face at all but at my wet pussy and his cock was hard as a rock. It strained at being confined in his trousers and he was looking more uncomfortable with every passing moment. I pretended not to notice and laid my head against the back of the seat as if to doze. I must have actually gone to sleep because I felt the touch of his fingers on the inside of my thigh. I shifted a bit. He stopped their movement but didn’t take them away. They stayed motionless and when I didn’t move any more he reached further and further. Looking from under my eyelids I could see that he had loosened his belt and zipper; his cock was in his hand and the head was swollen and red. I let him continue and once he was at my pussy lips he touched Ataşehir Escort them lightly, sliding his middle finger between them. I shifted forward a bit letting his finger slide further in than he had expected and he softly gasped. I shifted again and this time he slid it all the way in. I could hear him jerking his cock frantically while fingering my wet pussy, which was getting wetter and wetter by the moment. I moaned and opened my legs wider. My skirt was up to my waist and I was moving on his fingers. My eyes were still closed as if in sleep but I doubt that he even noticed. All at once I heard him move and felt him putting my legs on his shoulders and pulling my hips up and outward and the next moment was a most beautiful experience. He licked my wet pussy. Kissed and sucked at my clit until I thought I would go out of my mind. He pulled me closer and closer, sucking me harder and harder. I was moaning and working my cunt on his tongue begging for more and he gave me what I wanted.

“Yes baby cum more,” he kept saying. “Your pussy tastes like heaven”

I grabbed his head and ground my pussy into his face and frantically fucked his tongue. All of a sudden he slid his fingers into my pussy with his tongue. It was pure heaven and although I had been fucked like this before this time it was different. I hoped that it would never stop. In all the times that I had done this little trick all that I had gotten was a good fingering and some guy jerking off. Once the guy even slid his cock in just as he came. I guess that was sort of a “There you go bitch tease me again” salute. But this was good and I wanted more.

I raised myself and knelt before him and taking his swollen cock in my hands. Opening my mouth and let some spit drool down on the head. He moaned and I took him into my mouth sucking the swollen hard member deep into my throat. He caught his breath and moaned again and I went farther down; his cock hairs touched my lips. The vein on the underside was so engorged and his balls were so tight. He wanted to release into me but he held it as I pumped up and down on him. He seemed to get harder and bigger with each stroke I took. He then took his cock from my mouth and lying down on the seat he pulled my dripping pussy over his face and again began to lick my cunt, which by this time was so hot it screamed itself for mercy. I again went down on him.

After what seems like an eternity his balls tightened into a hard knot at the base of his cock. His attentions to my cunt grew frantic. I knew that he was way past ready to blow his nuts so quickly I stood and he sat up. Before he could say anything I sat down on his cock. My slick wet cunt sliding up and down as fast as I could move. He reached around me with one hand Ataşehir Escort Bayan and rubbed my hard clit and with the other hand he wet his fingers with my pussy juices sliding his fingers into my ass. Oh God! How beautiful it was. I loved every moment of it. He was taking me into heaven and I wanted to go especially with him. It was such a fantastic feeling. He suddenly moaned loudly and his breath seemed to stop for an instant and then suddenly he pulled his fingers from my ass and I felt his cum blasting away at the inside of my cunt. It was such a feeling that I have never had before and have never had again. My juices gushed from me mingling with his and I started to shiver as if cold but in all reality it was just pure excitement. Even now thinking about the incident I get a chill up my spine and my cunt begins to drip its juices.

He lay back against the seat and rubbed at my back and shoulders. Then he pulled me back against his chest. Kissing my ears and neck he whispered, ” Get off the train with me, stay with me overnight, I need you.”

I don’t know why I did it but I agreed and he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a little squeeze saying,” Up now missy we have to get ourselves presentable before this train stops.” He looked into my eyes and smiled. Leaning forward he kissed me a long slow lingering kiss. I have never forgotten that kiss.

We cleaned ourselves up and sat there side by side, my head on his shoulder and his arms about me holding me as if I would disappear when he turned me loose. It was such a warm feeling. It was as if Fate had guided our footsteps to each other and what we were doing was right.

The train stopped and he rose taking me with him. It wasn’t his stop but we left the train and for a night I was Mrs. Charles Something or another and have never regretted it one for moment We made love until we were both totally exhausted and fell asleep, him on top of me, his still half hard cock in my pussy.

The next morning he woke me with tiny kisses on my face. With each kiss he dropped lower on my body. Taking my breasts in his hands he squeezed them until the nipples were hard and the areoles puckered with desire. His tongue continued to play between my breasts. Going lower and lower until he was at my navel, rimming it and darting into it with his tongue. He drove me wild. He continued to drop lower and lower until he was at my hot steamy pussy. Taking his tongue he opened the lips and as he licked he pushed his tongue deeper and deeper into my wet hole. I could control myself no longer and I pushed up his face into my cunt and holding it there I moved in rhythm with him. “Oh God,” I moaned. ” More give me more.”

“Yes baby oh yes baby,” he murmured. ” I Escort Ataşehir will definitely give u more.” With those words he slid his fingers into my already dripping pussy and sucked my clit as he worked them. By this time I wanted him to slide that great swollen knob into my throbbing pussy. Wanted to feel it stretching it and bouncing off the cervix pushing into it making me scream with desire. I wanted that and more.

Suddenly he rose up and quickly replaced his fingers with that engorged cock and slammed it into me in one great thrust. ” Yes!” I screamed. “Yes! I want you, take me, and fuck me!” Raising my legs and placing them over his shoulders he drove himself into me deeper and deeper calling my name, “Ann! I Love you!” It was sending me towards the brink of no return and he knew it. His breath quickened and he spread me wider his eyes rolled suddenly back and he shuddered. Great gobs of hot thick cum spewed from his cock. I could feel the spasms as he unloaded his tight balls into my cunt. ” Oh God! Ann, I love you!” He shuddered again and as his spasms stopped he leaned on his elbows and taking my face in his hands he kissed me so tenderly. It was such a beautiful kiss. I will remember it always.

Slowly he rolled off of me. Sitting on the side of the bed he took my hand in his and kissed the fingertips. Turning he looked at me and smiled, and kissing my lips again he stood and went toward the bathroom. I heard the shower and the splashes as he soaped himself. I wanted to be there with him but time was growing short and I knew that we should leave soon. He returned to the room and I gave him a light kiss on the lips and went to clean up.

We repacked the suitcases and started for the door. He turned. Laying the key on the dresser and taking my hand he closed the door behind us and we walked the few blocks to the train station.

On the platform he kissed me and lovingly whispered, ” I love you. You have made me feel more a man in the short time we have been together than the woman I am married to has in 10 years.”

” I wish that we could have known each other before your marriage,” I replied. ” I wish that I could stay with you but I know it isn’t possible.” I smiled at him and he leaned and once again gave me a tender kiss.

Smiling he walked with me to the stairs on the train platform and helped me to board. Settling me in a compartment he again kissed me and then turned and left me there alone.
I saw him on the platform. He stayed there until the train started to move and he walked along with it until he couldn’t keep up with its pace and was left in the distance. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. Reliving that one fantastic day and night again in my mind.

. In that one night a man adored me beyond belief. He was lonely and I filled his needs. I wanted the night to last forever but of course that was something that could not be. He has been with me everywhere. I am hoping to see him again somewhere, Mr. Charles Something or another. I need him now as much as he needed me then.

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

The mid-morning sunlight cut through the kitchen blinds, casting bright stripes on the bench-top where Olivia had stationed her laptop and mug of coffee. It was Valentine’s Day and Matt hadn’t reserved anywhere yet for dinner.

She typed ‘best restaurants in Sydney’ into Google and waited for the results to pop up. If he couldn’t be bothered booking a table on the most important night of the year, she would do it herself and hit him where it hurt the most; in his pocket.

Olivia was distracted by an email alert flashing across the top corner of her screen. She just about caught the name before it faded away. Ethan Hollander. A surge of excitement shot through her as she closed the restaurants tab and opened her emails. It had been at least a decade since she’d seen that name, or the man it belonged to. Her heartbeat quickened as she double-clicked on the message.

Hi Olivia,

I hope you and Matt are keeping well. I bumped into your sister over Christmas and she mentioned that you’re in Sydney now. I asked her for your email address, hope you don’t mind…

My ship is in Sydney overnight for repairs and I’m coming ashore, just wondering if you and Matt fancied meeting for a beer.

I know it’s Valentine’s Day and you probably already have plans, but it would be great to catch up.

Ethan

Her stomach somersaulted as she read his email again just to check it was real. She wondered what he looked like now. He didn’t have any social media accounts and previous attempts at finding photos of him online had always resulted in nothing. She was 18 the last time she’d seen him, just a teenager. He was breathtakingly handsome, even at that age, muscular and chiselled with film star looks and a mop of tousled brown hair.

They’d been at high school together, her Ethan and Matt. The boys had played rugby for the same team. Olivia had always felt a strange connection to Ethan, but something or someone had always prevented them from hooking up. Even now though, at almost 30, just the mention of his name was enough to make her tingle with excitement. She couldn’t pass up on an opportunity to see him again.

She could hear Matt padding down the stairs. She tightened the belt of her silk dressing gown and instinctively ran a hand through her hair. Olivia knew that she needed to get Matt on side if this meeting was to go ahead.

“Morning, baby,” she said, hopping down from her stool and wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt warm and clammy, a victim of the sticky February weather.

Olivia hoped that Ethan had aged better than Matt. Good-looking in his teens and early 20s, Matt was now distinctly average. His once thick hair had started to recede and his six-pack had been replaced by a beer belly. He didn’t play sport any more, Ümraniye Escort complaining that his high-flying job in banking took up too much of his time. Since moving to Sydney two years ago they’d been leading separate lives. Olivia occupied herself with yoga, beach visits and the odd freelance graphic design job, whilst Matt spent 14 hours a day working and commuting.

“Morning,” he said, sliding his phone out of his dressing gown pocket and clicking straight into his email app.

“Guess what?” she said cheerily, pulling away to refill the kettle and make a pot of coffee.

He mumbled an inaudible response as he scrolled through the dozens of unopened messages.

“Do you remember Ethan Hollander?”

“From school?” He looked up briefly.

“Yes. He’s in Sydney,” Olivia said, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and reaching up into the cupboard for fresh cups. “He bumped into Claire at Christmas and she gave him our email address. He’s only here for one night and he wants to catch up for a drink.”

“Tonight? On Valentine’s Day?” He pulled out a stool and reached across for the steaming cup of coffee Olivia had just poured.

“I don’t really care about Valentine’s Day,” she lied. “Who wants to sit in a restaurant and pay for an overpriced meal, surrounded by other soppy couples doing the same thing?”

He shrugged, she could tell he was secretly pleased that they wouldn’t have to go out and blow $500.

“Yeah, arrange something, whatever you think,” Matt said, returning to his emails as his interest in the conversation evaporated.

Olivia chose her outfit carefully, trying to find the balance between sexy and casual. She decided on ripped denim shorts which ended just below her butt cheeks and a lightweight white shirt with a nude bra. The white showed off the tan she’d built up after two Australian summers. She piled her long brown hair into a messy bun and accessorised with subtle silver choker.

She had emailed Ethan straight back and offered to BBQ some steaks in their garden that evening. He had also accepted her invitation to stay in the spare room and save on a taxi fare.

“I’m going to pick Ethan up,” Olivia shouted, grabbing her keys from the hall table and banging the door shut behind her. She had offered to collect him from the harbour where his ship had docked and drive him to the house.

Ethan was standing near one of the port’s admin buildings with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a carton of beer resting by his feet. He was tanned from his time at sea, wearing a casual blue shirt with the first two buttons undone and a pair of Wayfarers.

Olivia’s heart pounded hard against her chest as she pipped the horn of Matt’s Audi and waved. She felt a sudden, Ümraniye Escort Bayan unexpected twinge between her legs as Ethan started to walk towards the car. He’d aged like a fine wine.

“Olivia, so good to see you,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek and throwing his bag onto the back seat. “Sorry for the short notice, just thought it would be good to catch up”.

She flashed a wide grin and sped off towards home, trying to concentrate on the road as Ethan took in her curves and long, bare legs. Maybe she’d imagined it, but she was sure she’d seen the outline of his cock stiffen slightly through the thin fabric of his shorts.

Matt was already tipsy by the time they arrived back at the house. He must have been downed a few whiskey and Cokes in the time it took Olivia to pick Ethan up.

He had lit the BBQ and turned the fairy lights on in the garden. It was a balmy evening, bordering on humid.

“Great to see you buddy,” Matt said, eyeing Ethan’s gym-honed physique. “Are you still playing rugby?”

“Nah, not anymore,” Ethan said, taking a swig of the cold beer Matt had given to him. “I have to keep fit for work though.”

“What is it you do exactly?” Matt asked, turning the steaks over on the BBQ as Ethan settled into one of the deck chairs.

“First Officer on an oil tanker,” he replied, catching Olivia’s eye across the table.

She poured herself a glass of cold white wine and momentarily closed her eyes, imaging him on the bridge, barking out orders in his uniform. The ache between her legs came back.

Matt stumbled down the hallway with Ethan and Olivia on either side for support. It was after midnight and he had downed the best part of a litre of whiskey. They lay him down on top of the covers and he immediately passed out, snoring lightly. Olivia knew that he wouldn’t move again until morning, when his hangover hit him.

“Thanks for a great night,” Ethan said, hovering in the doorway. He turned and walked towards the stairs.

Olivia gently closed the bedroom door and slipped out of her shorts and shirt. She undid her bun and allowed the long, brown waves to fall down her back. Matt’s snoring had grown louder. She turned the air-conditioning unit on so he wouldn’t wake up sweating and then pulled her silk dressing gown around her naked body. She didn’t have to touch her pussy to know that it was already wet.

Olivia padded up the stairs and tapped on the door of Ethan’s room. He was still up, she could see the light shining under the door. Without waiting, she gently pushed the door and stepped inside.

Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear. His clothes lay in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed. He raised his head to meet her eyes and Escort ümraniye stood up, his cock straining against his pants. Olivia paused for a second to make sure that Matt was still snoring below them. She slowly untied the belt of her gown and let it slip to the floor, allowing Ethan to see every inch of her. He let out a low groan and moved towards her, kissing her forcefully as he guided her to the bed. He reached down towards her wet pussy and slipped two fingers into her slit, bringing them out and licking them clean.

Her clit was throbbing as she lay back on the bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d needed to fuck this badly, or the last time she was this wet.

Ethan knelt on the floor beside the bed and placed her legs over each of his shoulders, bowing his head as he drew her pussy towards his mouth. A wave of intense pleasure rushed over her as he greedily ate her, flicking his tongue against her pulsing clit and driving it deep into her. He placed his hands underneath her butt and raised her pussy even closer to his face as she orgasmed.

He came up to kiss her. Olivia could taste herself on his tongue as his cock pushed against her thigh. She needed him inside her.

Ethan flipped her over. She knelt on all fours in the middle of the bed, thrusting herself out as an invitation for him to take her. He gently ran his finger down in between her ass cheeks and aligned himself with her hips. Olivia gasped with pleasure as he filled her pussy, thrusting in and out in time with his grunts. He was fucking her like a wild animal, harder and deeper than she’d ever been fucked before, and it felt incredible.

Ethan came quickly, falling against her as he pushed himself to a climax. He gently pulled out, letting his cum drip down her inner thigh.

Olivia twisted round to face him, pulling him down against her breasts and letting his cock fall against her. She didn’t speak, worried that words would break the spell. He was hot and clammy, exhausted. Olivia wanted to cum again, needed to. Her appetite was insatiable tonight, as if she had ten years of desire pent up inside her.

As if reading her mind, Ethan grabbed his shirt from the floor and gently wiped between her legs. He shuffled back until his face was against her pussy again. Slower this time, he licked every inch of her clean and moved his tongue up and down her slit. He paused for a second and licked his index finger, sliding it under her and into her anus. She arched her back in pleasure. He slipped two other fingers into her pussy and continued to suck her until she exploded with the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life.

It was almost dawn before Olivia dropped off to sleep. She was back in her own bed, Matt slumped beside her. She’d heard the front door close a little after eight as Ethan slipped away to re-join his ship. For a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream, but the tenderness between her legs and the cum marks on her dressing gown told a different story.

One thing was for sure, Olivia would never forget this Valentine’s Day.

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

The sameness of the urban landscape held no interest for Rowena as she sped down the Princes Highway between Melbourne and Geelong. She had managed to leave the office early that day before it had begun to get dark. It had been the bleakest winter day, grey and drizzling; it was also one of her own sharp-sorrow days. She made several attempts to avert her thoughts from Kurt Weininger as she drove. She let her mind dwell on her friends in the insurance office where she worked as an account executive. The girls there were not unlike herself, smart sophisticates in their twenties and thirties. Over the past few years she had dated several of the men in and around the office, including David Collins and Roy Samson, poor Roy, she thought. But she knew she now had to put down that albatross – regret. There was no point in defrosting the past.

Recently she had begun an affair with Kurt Weininger, head of a large property development company. Several times she had questioned her own motive in this relationship. She told herself that no man had excited her as much as Kurt. Somehow Kurt evoked a fear in her of herself, stirring an instinct so deep. She found herself breathing hard, her hands tightening on the steering-wheel. For almost an hour she weaved through the heavy traffic, overtaking an interstate transport truck as she entered the fast lane. On her left was a lot of open land, that was soon to be turned into yet another housing estate, and there ahead of her she spotted the buildings that was the turn-off into Geelong itself. It was a night that had neither moon nor stars. Dark streets – the blur of café lights. She watched the grey of the sky deepen to black as she drove to Western Beach.

Kurt had a large house at the edge of the beachfront overlooking Corio Bay. She looked out towards the headland across the bay, where the water was the colour of dark metal. She pulled into the open driveway alongside of the house with a balcony suspended over a double garage. There were sleek columns at the doorway and a wooden deck that ran the length of the house beneath the balcony. Leafless trees – oaks, maples, and sycamores white as a bone filled the garden. Rowena made her way up a paved path, where she was obliged to ring the doorbell several times, the door painted a violent orange, in defiance of local council regulations. The evening falling cold. ‘Hi! So you made it!’ Kurt was a man of about forty, over six feet tall, muscular, with curly blond hair, wearing a gaudy ‘art-silk’ dressing-gown and nothing underneath. ‘Sorry,’ he grinned, ‘just stepped out of the shower.’ His dark eyes roved up and down her figure. ‘It’s good to see you.’

His glance was shrewd but not penetrating. Kurt had the massive self-confidence that the knowledge of good looks and wealth give. Rowena lifted her head flirtatiously, ‘It’s – it’s nice to see you again, Kurt.’ ‘Come on in,’ he said, putting an arm around her, ‘I’ll show you your room.’ She followed him into a marble and mahogany entrance foyer and up a staircase to a landing. ‘The bathroom’s to your right. You can freshen up. Take your time. Take a bath if you like. Call out if you need anything.’ Rowena knew that it was the spare bedroom Kurt had assigned for her use, their use, she corrected herself. She was not to enter the master bedroom. Kurt had a wife somewhere overseas and two sons boarding at the local grammar school. Rowena ran a bath in the adjoining room and lay for a while in tepid water.

Her thoughts were pensive. Her man was not her man alone. Kurt had demanded discretion; theirs was the affair he could not show the world. Kurt had an easy way with women, and it was this which had attracted her to him, along with the athletic hardness of his body. He had said the first time they were together and he had cut the words clean. ‘The best loving is done on impulse. Sex must be spontaneous and quite free and quite apart from emotion,’ and she had been more than ready to accept this. A purely physical relationship meant never letting anyone get too close. Was she emotionally cold? she wondered.

Kurt was standing beside the window when she entered the bedroom. He held her close when she moved to him, his body telling her what she wanted, his hand brushing over her breast.

Her own fingers felt firm flesh. Kurt had touched a secret spot buried deep with her; she would give herself to him with abandon. Her body awakened Maltepe Escort by his rough hands was claiming its right. She had been aroused at the first touch.

The moon had risen. A shaft of light laid them both bare on the bed. His hand running down the arch of her back, across the curve of her buttock. Her breath quickening as she stretched supine. Pressing her fingertips into his biceps, he was in her hard and to the hilt, she tightening her thighs about him. But as for love – she knew it was the love of the wolf for its prey. Her body quivered in his hold.

In her sleep that night Rowena tossed from one side to the other. Once she woke to find the pillow wet with tears, but was unable to recall the nature of her dream. It was like a solitary voice calling out to her.

She lay on her back on her side of the bed. Touching her face, she felt the tears. She turned and looked into Kurt’s face … but he was sound asleep. She listened to his breathing, deep and regular. The house was quiet. She lay watching the patterned moonlight and shadows on the bedroom wall opposite. She could not think what had disturbed her. Perhaps the solitary voice was her conscience, returning to her body.

Then it came to her. She had a bad conscience about a man she had known in the office five years ago. Roy Samson had haunted her mind all that time. Roy worked in the same building as she, but not for the same company. He was an articled clerk in a firm of barristers and solicitors on the sixth floor. And now he was shadowing her like a bad nightmare.

The bad dream was real enough and she was still living inside it. I do have tremors of conscience, she thought. That what is going against me is my guilt. Guilt like a persistent vulture flying to my throat. But there now was no way to right the wrong.

She thought of the man sleeping beside her. She had begun the affair with Kurt soon after the first meeting, even though she knew he had a wife and family. He was a property developer on the Bellarine Peninsula and had business interests interstate as well.

The two men filled her thoughts. Kurt and Roy. They were as different as bronze from cast iron.

Roy Samson was the man who once told her he loved her. But she had been unable to respond emotionally. Her feeling was cold toward him. Roy was twenty-four but looked nineteen. He was clean-shaven with a baby-face and black hair, blue eyes.

She recalled the rainy afternoon when she made the mistake of letting Roy come to her room. She had stood before him, her russet-brown hair tousled, her green eyes alive. She had given him a teasing smile. She had even let him kiss her. Or rather her tongue had teased his. But she was not wanting to go the distance with him and tried to push him away. However, she did not want to be thought a teaser. She feared the adoration in his eyes.

Maybe I was sorry for him, she thought, got too involved. I let him fall for me, without taking steps to avoid it. Leading him on when I couldn’t love him.

A year before she had met Roy, another would-be lover, David Collins from the office where she worked, had once told her she was cold. She was not at all offended by this, and found it unexpectedly pleasing. So when Roy put his arms around her, she thought she could respond at a physical level if nothing else.

Roy’s fingers were gently touching the points of her breasts. Her body responding, urging him. But it was exactly awkward as she feared it might be. They undressed but he fell limp beside her. And she was not at all impressed by his pale string-bean body; she could no longer respond herself.

She remembered meeting Roy a day or two later, outside her office, recalled telling him how sorry she was, but her answer had to be ‘no’.

Her words fell on him like a terrible blow. He stood stunned. To her it had been like executing someone, but she had to refuse him.

She saw Roy a few more times after that in the lift where they worked. He kept on asking her out. He looked at her with stricken eyes, ‘You could have been patient,’ he cried. ‘It needn’t have been like that.’ He looked as if he was about to walk in front of a truck.

Soon he was beginning to irritate her. On one occasion she had laughed straight into his face; she had met his eyes with scorn. He turned and walked away from her and she knew she had gone too far.

It wasn’t Maltepe Escort Maltepe until later that afternoon she felt herself grieving because she could not love Roy as he loved her.

It was a moment that became fixed, frozen in her consciousness.

She climbed out of bed, careful not to wake the man sleeping beside her. She went to the big picture window and looked out across the street to the bay. The sea was broad and flat and glittered like polished metal beneath a milky wash of moonlight.

She recalled how everything seemed to break in her mind. She shivered in the cold night air, her thoughts drifting automatically to Roy Samson.

Emotion gnawed through her. She had rejoiced in having hurt Roy. She remembered how the following day he had walked past her. She tried to force his averted eyes to hers by calling ‘Roy, Roy,’ but he did not turn to face her. She had been completely rebuffed.

At first this had angered her, never thinking Roy would have the temerity to do this.

His love had turned to hatred, she realised. His features were as unmoving as a mask. This troubled her deeply.

She made several attempts to speak to Roy over the next few months. She was even about to ring his number, but her hand withdrew of its own accord. I’ll come apart if I don’t speak to him, she thought at the time. But she could not run after him.

But later that day she had broken down, bursting into tears.

For the next couple of years, the stuck needle of her conscience replayed her rejection of Roy over again.

Now five years later, standing before the window in another man’s bedroom, looking out onto the bay, she found it impossible to tear her thoughts from Roy. Her conscience still smote her. It’s as though I’m possessed of a self-lacerating madness, she thought.

Six months ago, on impulse, she decided to ring Roy and see if she could end the stalemate between them, hoping to exorcise him from her brain. Surely he wouldn’t still resent her after all this time, she surmised.

She was surprised when Roy’s phone was answered by a woman’s voice. ‘I’m afraid my husband’s not at home at the moment. Can I take a message?’

So Roy was married now, Rowena thought as she spoke into the phone. ‘My name’s Rowena White,’ she said. ‘I’m with the Eagle Star Insurance Company. Could you ask Mr Samson to return my call?’

The woman spoke rapidly. She had a pleasant musical voice. ‘Roy’s very busy at the moment. He’s just opened a law office in North Melbourne, and we’ve been flat out setting it up. But I’ll let him know you called and he’ll get back to you.’

But Roy never returned her call. She found his business number and called him at his office a few days later. But her nerve failed her. All she could talk about was insurance. ‘I’ve put together a package that might interest you, Mr Samson,’ her voice trembled. ‘Would you like to see it?’

‘No, thank you,’ he had replied firmly but curtly.

Lamely, she ended the conversation. Roy had made no acknowledgement of her, had spoken to her as though she were a complete stranger.

This unnerved Rowena greatly. It’s as though I were a sprig of poisoned ivy to be avoided, she thought.

She realised that sex could be a brutal, retributive thing, that out of his own hurt, Roy had sought to hurt her. The youth who should have become a man through her had in turn rejected her.

She went back to the bed. Kurt was still sleeping soundly.

Rowena shivered and moved over closer to Kurt, seeking some comfort. But he only pushed her away, saying, ‘Leave me alone. I want to sleep.’

She recalled how she had first met Kurt at a Chamber of Commerce meeting. This was several weeks ago and they were immediately attracted. Then they met up again at a party given by a mutual friend. And how they had returned to her apartment at two in the morning.

They had just made it inside the door. He had held her wrists behind her back and had forced her down on the carpet, until she moaned and cried out, until she was wanting nothing else.

Rowena had always known she had a secret submissive streak, a primitive desire buried deep inside. How good it could feel to have a man like Kurt take control.

But her thoughts were like waves crashing against hidden shoals. Kurt was tired of her already, she realised.

She went downstairs Escort Maltepe with the intention of preparing breakfast, but instead of eating, she poured herself a cup of coffee and made her way through the French windows out onto the patio overlooking the bay.

‘Sleep well?’ Kurt inquired, slipping into the chair opposite. He was wearing a form-fitting T-shirt that emphasised every muscle, displaying a tattoo on his right bicep. The strong slanting morning sunlight highlighted his deeply lined face making Rowena fully aware of the fifteen year age difference between them.

‘Not very well,’ she replied uneasily, thinking how she had lain awake more than half the night while he slept heavily beside her. ‘Are you coming down to the shops this morning?’ she asked to change the subject.

His mouth was sharp, like a line cut in stone.

‘I thought we agreed we’d be discrete. Too many people know me in Geelong. You can’t stop tongues talking.’

Rowena hadn’t realised how sensitive Kurt might be to what people might think. As CEO of one of the largest property developing companies in Australia, he had always come across to her as a decision maker. And now this concern for what ‘people might think’.

‘You said you were planning to take the cabin cruiser out on the bay this weekend?’

He looked at her steadily. ‘Plans change.’

A deepening silence lay between them and the moments passed.

Rowena stirred her coffee before saying, ‘What are you thinking about?’

‘That’s the question women always ask.’

‘That’s because we don’t like moody silences.’

What sort of a conversation was this? They were talking for the sake of it.

Eventually, the man looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got a couple of business associates calling in at ten this morning,’ then went on to say, ‘I’d appreciate it you’d not come back until late this afternoon.’

And that was where the iron had entered the flesh. It was an insult, she thought. It felt like a stone in her stomach.

Her attraction to him had turned to bile. Rowena could not even begin to sort out her feelings. Her face was suffused with anger.

He looked across at her, took in her silence. ‘These are men I simply can’t put off. We’re negotiating a hotel site in Torquay.’

He sighed. ‘Perhaps there are certain things you don’t understand.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘perhaps there are.’

Half an hour later Rowena left the house and walked along the foreshore. The raw, pinching coldness of the previous afternoon had gone. It was a bright clear day and the buds on the elm trees were opening.

She made her way along the path above the beach and was alone with her thoughts. Alone except for two pigeons attempting to mate on the pavement, the female ever turning away from the male.

Eventually she came to a park where a children’s playground was set aside in one corner. A boy and a girl were chasing each other around the slide and climbing structure. A man, the father no doubt, was sitting on a nearby bench, reading a newspaper. The children were squealing and laughing as they reached the sand-pit.

Rowena sat herself down on one of the swings, slowly swinging back and forth. She had imagined her weekend with Kurt would be romantic and fun. But she knew he was bored with her already and wanted her out of the house when his friends came.

The children building a sand-castle in the play pit reminded her of her own childhood. She recalled how other girls her own age couldn’t wait to grow up, looking forward to getting involved with boys and sex, but not her. Rowena had wanted to remain a child forever.

She realised she had been kidding herself, to imagine there could be anything more between herself and Kurt than a physical attraction. She saw everything in sharpest focus now, detached and clear, the cold impersonal way he would inform her it was all over between them. She had been made use of.

She struggled to hold back the tears, surprised she could be affected so emotionally. She had so prided herself in being ‘cold’. She was all tied up inside.

She had always had feelings of guilt, especially where Roy was concerned, and perhaps she had allowed Kurt’s casual mistreatment of her as a kind of atonement. Odd the way things were coming together in her mind.

It helped greatly that she had no real feelings for Kurt. It would be easy for her to make the break.

She looked across at the man sitting on the bench absorbed in the newspaper. Perhaps one day she might find a man she could respect as well as love.

In the meantime, she thought, she would be free, she would belong to herself.

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

A reminder that this is a novel, folks, and for the sake of continuity, you should start with Chapter One and read your way through. Besides, you may just enjoy yourself. On the other hand, if all you want is one-shot sex, have at it!

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was the middle of the next week when Ken came home with another package.

“Hmmm,” I said coyly, looking from him to the box, “Have you been doing some planning again?”

He smiled that sexy little smile of his at me. “Well,” he said, “a little planning…but also a lot of thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how fantastic things were when you took over the planning!” he told me with a huge grin, opened the box and handed me a pair of surprisingly lovely cowboy… well, cowgirl… boots.

I took the boots, looked from then to Ken and back again. “I know we’ve been dressing me in as little as possible,” I told him dryly, “but this may be a wee bit too little.”

His grin remained. “Actually, I was thinking of those as just as accent to that hot outfit you came up with,” he said. “The jeans-and-T-shirt number? Thongs were great for that bar and theater, but the boots’ll fit in much better at where I was thinking of for tonight.”

I shivered slightly and smiled back at Ken. “So you want to take your cowgirl out tonight, eh?” I asked. “So, cowpoke, how’d you know my pussy’s been itching all afternoon?”

Ken chuckled. “I’ve been trying to make that a constant state of being for you,” he said.

“You have!”

“But about me taking you out….” His voice trailed off.

I looked at him for a moment before that registered. “You…want me to go out …alone?”

He held my eyes for the longest moment before I saw the grin on his face change from boyish excitement to sly and sexy. “Well….” he said teasingly.

I took a step closer to him. “Come on!” I said urgently. “I thought the excitement for you was in the watching! Besides,” I added more quietly, “I don’t know if I could be bold and sexy without you there to see.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close, kissing me on the forehead. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be there. You’re right, I wouldn’t miss watching for a moment!

“But what I was thinking was…how about if you act like you’re there alone? See what kind of a stud my cowgirl can rope in?”

The smile slowly came back to my face as I turned the idea over in my head. A night of acting single while really being together? I found my mouth beginning to water at the possibilities….

“Mmmmm, it does sound good at that,” I purred. “You have a place in mind?”

Ken nodded. “The Meat Market.”

I started a bit. “What is that?”

Ken smiled again. “A country theme singles place. ‘Where fillies and studs go to find each other’ is their motto. Pretty good food, I hear, so we won’t even have to have dinner first. You just have to get ready, set, go!”

I returned Ken’s grin at that. I could tell he was already ready, set…. “Wait a minute,” I said on that thought, “won’t you need to look country, too?”

He nodded. “You bet, but I don’t want to look so good some filly tries to pick me up. I’ll just change into jeans and a flannel shirt, and maybe some sneakers to spoil the effect.”

It was my turn to chuckle. “You sly dog,” I told him.

We both went into the bedroom to change. I put the boots beside the bed and started to pull out my clothes, then was struck by a thought.

“You know, Ken,” I said thoughtfully, “I think maybe the snap-up jeans skirt might be a bit too much for a country place. They look more city streets than country roads.”

Ken looked at me. “Believe me, Kathi, I trust your judgment. You got something else more appropriate?”

I smiled. “I think so. While I was out shopping for the snap-up model, it was taking to long to find what I wanted that I got a different denim skirt in case I never did find the right one. And I think that actually this one looks more country-ish.”

I pulled the new skirt out of the drawer and showed him. Ken looked at it for a moment, then liked his lips and asked,

“Does that do what I think it does?”

I nodded with a grin. “Let me put it on and show you.”

It was a matter of moments to drop my pants and pull the skirt on. The same short length as the other one, this one zipped up and belted at the waist…but flared out like a cheerleader’s skirt from there down. I could hear Ken’s breathing get a bit ragged as I pirouetted for him and the skirt rose obligingly to show off all my charms underneath.

“You like it?”

Ken nodded and licked his lips again. “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

I gave him a sly grin. “It’s even better than that,” I told him. “Watch this.”

I turned my back to him and bent over as though to pull on a shoe…and was rewarded with a gasp as Ken found himself looking at most of my pussy hanging out for inspection as the flared shirt rode up over my ass.

I stood up and turned back Kartal Escort to him. “You like it now?” I asked.

I was answered by the look of lust on his face and the silent nod he gave me. “I’m … speechless,” he said at last.

I grinned at him. “Well, then, don’t say anything, just finish changing and let’s get going!”

Ken nodded, and went about just that, while I found my shortie T-shirt from the other night and put it on, then stepped into the boots. They were only ankle-high, soft as silk inside and a perfect fit. I turned to find Ken just tucking in his flannel shirt.

“Ready-set?” I asked him.

“Ready-set,” he said brightly.

“Then let’s go!”

WE PULLED into the parking lot of the Meat Market and Ken parked off to one side, as usual in a semi-hidden area. “Well,” he asked after stopping the engine, “what’s our story?”

I smiled at Ken before answering. On the way, he’d explained to me that, while he’d planned the location and the general scheme, he hoped I could join in the planning by filling in the details. I’d hashed over half a dozen schemes in my mind as Ken drove, but in the end decided to go with my first instinct.

“You’re off with a client for the evening,” I told Ken. “You often have these boring evening business meetings, and since I don’t like staying home alone, I have you drop me off someplace where I can have some fun. I always find my own way home, so I’m not expecting you to pick me up or anything. It’s the first time I’ve been to this place, I just picked it out at random.”

Ken nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

“And,” I added, “I’m definitely leaving my wedding ring on. I don’t want someone to hit on me thinking I’m single – I want them to know up front there’s a husband around somewhere.”

Ken smiled at that. “Good choice, I think,” he told me. “Besides, it should increase the thrill factor.”

I gave him a puzzled look.

“There’s thousands of guys who hit on single girls,” he said in clarification. “But there aren’t many who hit on married women – and those who do are usually a lot more serious, and a lot more fun.”

I nodded in understanding, then looked deep into Ken’s eyes. “You’re sure, now.” I asked. “You’re sure you want me picking up a total stranger?”

Ken only nodded.

“And you’re sure you’ll be able to see well enough from across the crowd?”

Ken smiled. “I’ll just have to do my best. Remember, this is a work in progress, Kathi, no detailed planning, just follow your instincts. Forget about me or you won’t be able to act naturally. And I’ll see you at home later.”

He leaned toward me for a kiss, and I slid across the seat to supply him. It was a warm and lingering kiss…I could feel myself starting to heat up toward the end…. But then Ken suddenly broke it off and gave me a little push toward the door.

“Go knock ’em dead,” he told me.

I smiled lightly and got out of the car, then crossed the parking lot and headed inside. Ken would follow a bit later.

The place was big inside, and surprisingly crowded for a midweek. Country music rocked from one corner, a sort of semi-separate room, where dancers were energetically doing musical calisthenics about the well-lit area, and maybe do-se-doing for all I knew. On the far opposite side of the place in a similar but more dimly-lit semi-separate room I could see couples hanging on to each other and slow dancing around the floor. In between, where I was, the lighting was somewhere between the two extremes, and a well-defined path led between tables of diners toward what was clearly the bar, all the way at the back.

I headed down the aisle toward the bar, noticing in my peripheral vision heads turning my way and hearing more than one sharp intake of breath as I went. I smiled to myself; the layout of the place was perfect to get someone noticed as they first came in! And apparently my outfit was nicely doing the job of getting me that notice.

As I got to the bar I didn’t have to wait for service, either; the bartender could see anyone coming down the aisle well in advance.

“What can I get you, ma’am,” he drawled.

“Burger plate and a beer,” I told him; I’d noticed a sign advertising that combination on the way in. He nodded; I couldn’t quite tell if he was staring at me or just looked distracted.

“First time here?” he asked, and when I nodded, he went on, “thought so. Table service on the food, I’ll have it out to you in a couple, but if you want a refill on the beer…” which he finished drawing and handed to me, “…you’ll have to come back here. Any table you want, I’ll find ya.”

I gave him a smile and turned with my beer to find a table. There were a couple of tables open off toward the slow-dance room; I wove my way in that direction. I took note of who was occupying the tables as I passed. It seemed it pretty well divided between men and women; a few couples, but mostly one or two men or women together at a table, busily engaged Kartal Escort Bayan in checking out who was at other tables rather than who or what was happening at their own. Table shopping, I thought to myself, then chuckled silently.

Well, it is a singles joint, I reminded myself, it’s not like they come here for the food, no matter how good the food is.

I reached an empty table and noted with satisfaction that all the occupants of the tables surrounding it were men. I put the beer down and pulled a chair out at an angle, so when I sat it was sideways to the table and facing the bar. I started to cross my legs but then thought better of it; don’t want to show off too much too soon, I chided myself.

I could feel as well as see the guys at the tables around me staring at me while trying not to, and smiled to myself happily. Then, as a test, I held my left hand up in front of my face and conspicuously checked my wedding ring; I could almost hear the audible sigh as the men took me off their radar and went back to their looking.

I sipped my beer for a couple of minutes before my burger arrived, a really delicious smelling fat thing with a huge platter of fries. The bartender also left me the tab with the food, and I noted the inscription on the back, pay as you leave. I looked at the amount due – not bad, considering how much food this is! – then turned my chair back toward the table to address my burger more directly.

Instead of my burger, I found myself looking at the crotch of a tight pair of jeans standing right beside my table. I followed them up, past a muted flannel shirt and a hand holding a mug of beer, to a good looking face decorated with a pair of the liveliest green eyes I’d ever seen. Both the eyes, and the mouth below them, were smiling at me in a wistful sort of way that sent a thrill of excitement down my spine.

When the man didn’t seem about to speak after a full fifteen seconds, I decided to break the ice.

“There is a second chair at this table,” I told him softly.

His wistful smile turned to a grin, but his eyes didn’t budge from their feasting on my body. “Thank’ya. Ma’am,” he said politely, “wanted to be sure you was lookin’ for company afore I set down.”

He put his beer on the table and pulled the second chair around to where he sat, placing it backwards to the table and leaning on its back as he sat.

I couldn’t help smile at him; there was something about his voice and manner that just screamed sincerity. He genuinely wouldn’t have sat if he hadn’t been invited! I marveled.

“Well, I wasn’t actively looking for company,” I told him with a chuckle, “but I’m glad to have it just the same.”

“Thought ya looked a mite lonely,” he said with a knowing nod. “I’m pretty lonely myself. Only my second night in town, and the buddy I’m stayin’ with had to go to some business meetin’. He suggested this as a good place to meet up with someone, and I’m thinkin’ he was right now I met up with you.”

I laughed softly. “What’s funny?” he asked.

“My husband told me the same thing about this place, when he dropped me here on the way to his business meeting,” I said lightly, slightly emphasizing husband to give the guy a chance to back off quickly if he wanted. Instead, his face cracked into a huge grin and he shook his head.

“Hot dawg,” he said, “guess this is our lucky night then! We can keep each other company while other folks tend to business!”

I stared at him a moment, then laughed outright. “Sounds good to me,” I said at last through my subsiding laughter.

“So…what’s your name?”

The light wasn’t the best but I could still see him blush a bit. “Aw, shoulda told ya that right off, shouldn’t I? Names Jim, Jim Thomas.”

“Kathi Collins,” I told him as I reached out to shake his hand. Instead of shaking my hand, though, he held it as though it was something precious, then leaned over and kissed it gently.

“Kathi,” he repeated softly as he let go of my hand, then again, “Kathi,” as if tasting my name. “Suits ya. Strong and pretty.”

I mulled that for a moment as I picked up my burger. “Tell me about yourself?” I asked, then started eating.

“Not too much to tell,” he said with a shrug. “Just got into town like I said. Got a job that starts up next Monday, and I’m staying’ with an ol’ buddy a mine while I hunt out an apartment. Family’s way back in Knoxville, don’t know anyone here ‘cept the guy I’m bunkin’ with and the guy who hired me.”

“I can see why you’d be lonely,” I commented between bites.

“Yeah,” he replied. “‘Course it’s the same any time ya take a new job somewhere away from home. Takes a while to find some friends. Ya just hope ya can find someone like you who’s willin’ to spend some time while ya look.”

“Well,” I told him, “I’ve got all evening. My husband’s always real late getting back from these meetings, so I just get myself home however I can.

“Well, shoot, I’ve got wheels, I can take ya home whenever Escort Kartal you’re ready,” Jim said happily.

I nodded. “I just might take you up on that,” I purred, “later.” I’d finished about half the burger and found myself full. I offered the rest to Jim.

“You sure?” he asked, and when I told him I was sure, he took it and smacked his lips slightly. “Had one earlier, and they are tee-rific! Thanks.”

We munched companionably for the next few minutes, Jim eating the lion’s share of the fries as well. Finally we were down to our beers, and Jim straightened in his backward chair and looked at me.

“Like to dance?”

I cocked my head a moment, then glanced between the two dance rooms and back to Jim.

“Sure,” I told him, ” but I don’t know any of the fast stuff down there. It’ll have to be the slow room.”

Jim grinned again. “That woulda been my first choice anyway, Kathi,” he told me as he stood and held out his hand for mine, then led me toward the darkened dance hall.

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation or uneasiness as he wrapped his arms around me and began to move us with the music. I felt his right hand warm against the skin of my bare back between shirt and skirt, and leaned warmly against his chest, making sure with each breath to rub my breasts against him through the thin material of our shirts. After a couple of minutes I felt his left hand, which had been caressing my shoulder, move slowly downward until it gently rubbed against the bare skin of my thigh, below my brief skirt.

My breath caught momentarily in my throat, then I felt myself sigh. I pressed my crotch closer against his, both in thanks, and in the hope that his left hand would take the hint and become at least a bit bolder. I quickly found that Jim was no dummy; first his fingertips, then his whole palm began to caress my thigh, moving slowly but steadily upward under my skirt.

I held Jim as tight as I could, nearly plastering myself to him in the dimness. Abruptly I became aware that he was moving his right hand from my back. I felt it trailing around me, then gently wedging its way between us, first at my tummy, then quickly but gently moving up and under my T-shirt until his hand was filled with my left tit, which he proceeded to squeeze and rub in a most arousing way.

I tilted my head back a little and whispered up at him,

“You sure don’t waste any time letting a girl know how you feel.”

Jim’s grin almost seemed wicked in the darkness as he whispered back, “Shoot, Kathi, I’m just teasin’ ya a bit, so ya don’t miss your husband so much.”

“Mmmmm,” I moaned softly, “I could take this kind of teasing all night.”

His left hand was confining itself to my ass and thigh, but Jim’s right hand on my breast was causing my usual response of bringing my pussy to attention anyway. We must have continued to sway to the music for nearly half an hour as I felt the tension mounting higher and higher in my twat – which I rubbed with as much vigor as I could against Jim’s obviously bulging crotch – before I gently broke off the caress and whispered to Jim, a bit unsteadily,

“I love this, but let’s take a beer break, OK?”

Jim nodded and led me back to our table, then took both mugs to the bar for refills. I had collected myself a bit by the time he returned.

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” I asked as he sat down, turning the chair the right way this time and moving it as close to me as he could. I wasn’t surprised to feel a hand caressing my bare legs and inner thighs almost before he was fully down.

“I dunno really, it just seems to come natural,” he replied lightly, and took a deep draught from his beer. I smiled and did the same, and found myself feeling slightly light-headed and with a growing feeling of need in my body. Not just in my pussy, but in my whole body.

I quickly finished the beer, and while Jim was doing the same, I asked,

“Dance some more?”

He nodded silently, and led me back to the floor. No stealth or hesitation this time, his hands went back to my thigh and breast, but reversed this time, to give the right breast and left thigh equal time. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to me that the bulge of cock in his pants was even larger as I rubbed against it now in increasing urgency.

I was nearly ready to either scream out in frustration or cum right there when Jim suddenly leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“You ’bout teased enough now, Kathi? Or ya want to go have another beer and dance some more?”

I took a deep breath that I could feel shudder in my chest, then, panting slightly, answered,

“Maybe a little fresh air would be a good idea.”

Jim smiled at me, then led me from the floor, scooping up my meal ticket from our table as we passed. Our brief pause at the cashier on the way out seemed to me to take forever, then we were outside in the parking lot, and Jim was leading me to his car.

His pickup truck, I corrected myself as we arrived. I was shivering slightly as we climbed in – the sun had gone down as we danced and my outfit was no match for the cool breeze that had sprung up. Jim noticed my shivers and started the engine, turning the heater on as he did so.

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

I held my breath as Liz got to the last picture, the final close-up of Renee’s pussy, the lips flared out like flower petals, her pink trail glistening with the juices of her climax. She stared at it like she was spellbound.

I heard her whisper, “Oh my, I’ve never…never…” her voice trailing off.

She looked at me, her face flushed, her eyes bright, her breathing deep. I decided the risk of losing the job was worth it, and my head moved forward. My lips touched her, she pushed her face forward, and our lips, hot and eager, were pressed together. My tongue slipped out, I gently parted her lips, and her tongue raced out to play with mine. My cock was hard enough from the heated remembrance of Renee, and I could feel it stiffen even more as Liz twirled her tongue around mine, our passion growing quickly. She suddenly jumped up, and I was afraid that she’d had a sudden change of heart since she was married.

She went over to the kitchen table, unleashed her hair, and a spill of black tresses tumbled halfway down her back, she pulled up her dress, pulled down her panties, and told me what to do.

“Fuck me, fuck me, I’m so hot I feel like I’m gonna explode! Fuck me, for god’s sake!”

I thought that was pretty funny, hearing a pastor’s wife say that, but there was nothing funny about the offer. I was quickly behind her, my pants at my ankles, letting my cock free as she bent slightly at the waist, her hands braced on the table, her legs spread apart. Her dress was pulled up to the small of her back, and after being hidden by the shapeless dowdy dress, her ass was a sexy sight, a wonderful heart shape, and I was more than ready. I nudged my cock against her bubbly entrance and pushed in, I could feel her hips push back, eager to get every bit of my 7 inches inside her.

“So hard, let me have it, every inch!”

Her squeal of delight matched my growl of pleasure, she was tight, fiery hot, and dripping with her juices, and it was sheer pleasure to bury myself in her hot, eager sheath.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck me, ram me, drive it in, give me your load!”

Eager to do exactly as requested, I grasped her hips, pulled out, and drove back in, getting a rhythm going, driving my cock in to the balls on every stroke. I power fucked the tight clutch of her fiery fuck-hole, really reaming out her steamy depths. Watching that sexy heart-shaped ass humping back and forth as I fucked her whipped up my lust to a fever pitch. The tightness and her growls and cries of pleasure took me to the brink. I could feel my nut sack cinch up tight against me, the cum was just about at the full boil.

Liz was gasping and moaning, urging me on, “Yes, yes, yes, oh my god, fuck me, fuck, make me cum, oh god YES!”

Just as she did so, I felt her hand come down, cupping my balls and squeezing gently. Her voice rose up to a full-throated shriek of pleasure, and I felt the tight clenching at my cock as Liz tumbled into orgasm. My cock jerked, swelling up tight, I could feel the head of my cock tapping against her cervix. I pulled her up, pressing tightly against her body as I sank my cock in to the balls, and I could feel the eruption deep inside her. I was cumming, too, my cock erupting, again and again, a geyser of hot, white cum jetting, splattering her cervix. Her welcoming tightness was rippling with spasms, milking me for every drop.

After a minute of getting our breath back, we quickly rearranged our clothes, Liz pinned her hair back up into the sensible bun style, and we returned to the parlor. Five minutes later, Pastor Robbins entered, apologized for the delay, and joined us for tea. He asked the usual questions, I gave him my portfolio, without the R and X rated material of course. He looked it over, nodded, and told me he would be in touch with me.

“If you will excuse me, I must meditate and write my sermon for this week’s service. Thank you for your time Mr. Stassun. I will contact you and let you know one way or the other by the end of this week. I’m sure my wife will be happy to see you out.”

As soon as he was out, heading for the chapel, we were in each other’s arms, Liz hungrily feasting on my mouth in tongue-filled swirls of passion. We were both more than ready to pick up where we left off, but with her husband so close by, we weren’t that foolhardy. I gave her my address and told her to come over tomorrow for lunch.

The next day, Liz was at my door promptly at Noon, but eating food was the last thing on our minds. As soon as she was in the door, she was in my arms, and after tongue swirling smooches of passion, she stepped back, grinned at me, and stripped off the dowdy dress, let her hair free of its bun, and the image of a proper, straitlaced pastor’s wife was blown away in an instant. The clothes hid a ripe, wonderfully proportioned body, that fantastic heart shape of her ass, curvy hips, a neatly trimmed nest of black pubic curls, what looked like a 36 C chest, those beautiful melons topped with turgid, stiff nipples, eager for some attention.

I quickly joined her, and she pulled me bostancı escort to the floor, eager to get back to what we were both aching for. She lay back, spread her legs, and urged me on.

“Fuck me, Jim, fuck me, I’ve been horny ever since yesterday, and I need it so much, just ram my cunt, and fuck my cunt, fuck the horniness out of me!” she growled huskily.

I could see her tight lips were parted slightly, her pink trail was drooling with the juices of her lust, looking like a bulls-eye for my cock. My erection was almost painfully hard, as I nudged against her, she grabbed my ass, pulling down hard on me as she humped her hips up at me, letting out a loud squeal of pleasure as my cock surged in, right to the hilt. She told me what to do, in language more suited to an overheated slut, than a pastor’s wife.

“Oh yeah, give it to me”, Liz gasped, “Let me have it! I want you to fuck me as long as you can! Give me all you got, babe! Fuck my cunt, fuck me!! I’m an overheated little slut who needs to be fucked hard. Fuck me, fuck my burning cunt! I love to be teased and fucked by your big, hard cock! Let me have it, slam my pussy!! Fuck me, fuck my fiery fuckhole! Fuck my overheated cunt!! Fuck my brains out!!”

I could feel her legs going around my waist, tilting her hips up, setting herself into position for deep thrusting. Fired up, I started to ride her, her grunts and squeals of pleasure filling my living room, relishing the hot, slick tightness of her cunt around my cock. Her sexy voice, and what she was saying, was driving me crazy. I slammed my steel-hard cock in and out, in and out of her fiery fuckhole. With each thrust, she took my hard cock right up to the balls. She had a look of rapture on her face, she looked delirious with pleasure, as I power fucked her burning core, plunging balls deep into her again and again. I could feel my nut sack tighten up, as my balls moved into firing position, and the spunk started to sizzle. Liz was panting and gasping, tossing her head from side to side as she writhed beneath me. Cupping her ass cheeks, I stretched out a finger and ran it up and down the tight pucker of her ass. I could feel the tight rose-shaped pucker of her ass hole twitching wildly.

“Yes, keep fucking me! I’m so close, I need to cum, and I’m so close! I can feel your big cock throbbing, let it go, I want you to flood my cunt! Keep rubbing my tight little asshole, feels so fucking good! Let your cock explode, I wanna feel you squirt! I want every drop you got! I’m soo, I’m soo, Oh God, I’m almost there! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t, don’t, don’t, yes, yes, yes, OH YES!!”

Her voice rose to a scream as she exploded, her pussy clamping tightly around my cock, spasming wildly. My nut sack cinched up tight, my balls locked in firing position, my cock swelled tight with a massive urgency. The tight hug of her inner sheath, wrapped around my shaft and spasming wildly, took me over the edge. I could feel the spunk surging up my shaft, and I groaned with pure pleasure as my cock exploded, my spunk blasting out, squirting wildly, splattering her insides. We gasped and moaned as our bodies shook from the force of our climaxes, her pussy spasming wildly, milking greedily, as my throbbing cock squirted every drop of spunk into her, emptying my balls deep inside her burning cunt.

As our climax started to ebb, I pulled out and flopped down next to her, her face a picture of contentment, as we lay close together in the afterglow.

After a few minutes, Liz asked me if we could go out for lunch.

“Jim, let’s go out to eat, I’m hungry for more than just sex!” she giggled.

She had a backpack with her, and she pulled out black, lacy panties and bra, and a dress that was definitely not a dowdy preacher’s wife outfit. It was dark blue, cut to halfway up her thighs, and clung to her body, outlining her shapely curves. I could feel the lust stirring again.

“So nice to be out and about, to wear something that makes me feel good about myself. My poor husband might have a heart attack if he saw his good little wifey dressed like this, let alone getting the fucking I need so much!” she finished, with a laugh.

Soon, we were seated in my favorite neighborhood diner, the “Five Spot”, it’s set up like a 1950’s eatery, but the food is far from greasy spoon fare. We ordered then Liz sat back with a satisfied sigh.

“Ah, when your stiff, hard cock is deep inside me, and I feel you exploding, the jetting and squirting as your prick pumps your horny load into me, feels like heaven, you don’t know how much I needed good, hard fucking. My husband, being the god-fearing type, wants to channel his baser instincts into the work of the lord, I’m lucky if I get it once every few months. And lucky is just a relative term, it’s always a totally dark, lights out, missionary style, two-minute fuck. I barely have time to start warming up before he grunts, and his cock squirts his lust into me. He, being the typical male, rolls over and is asleep in a minute, so my fingers and my dildo finish the bostancı escort bayan job that he very clumsily started.”

“Geez, it sounds like he almost doesn’t have a cock!” I said, amazed that this gorgeous, shapely lady could be denied a healthy, lust-filled sex life.

“Preachers may have cocks, but the instinct for a real marriage, full of no holds barred, solid, passionate fucking, is something beyond his ability, it seems. He’s so focused on God, and his idea that he’s going to go to heaven. I could show him heaven in bed, he wouldn’t have to wait for some imaginary heaven after death if he’d do what a good husband should do. I was getting relief from my fingers, a good hard dildo, and my imagination, just relief, not sexual fulfillment.”

We trailed off our conversation as our food arrived, and we ate quickly, I had the feeling that Liz was eager for more. Just how eager, I found out back at my place, as soon as we were in the door, Liz stripped down, she undid her bra, letting it tumble away from her body, grinning at me as she saw my cock rise up to the sight of her succulent melons, Wearing just her lacy black panties, she knelt in front of me, my pants dropped, and my cock was pointing right at her face.

She licked her lips, then said, “As I said earlier, preachers have cocks too” she said as she licked at my prick, “But nothing like this hard, stiff beauty. I want to swallow your cock, milk at your prick with my lips, then give me all your thick cum to swallow. Let my lips fuck your prick, fill my hungry mouth!”

She opened her lips, slid them down over my shaft, and my cock was swallowed into her tight, wet heaven of sucking. Her wet mouth went up and down my cock, I looked down, and I could see her head of black hair bobbing back and forth, my cock, shiny wet with her spit, appearing then disappearing as her mouth swallowed my cock, over and over. Her lips were clamped tightly around my cock, milking at my shaft, the sensation was making my toes curl with pleasure. She was making little noises of passion around my cock as she sucked me, and I could feel it start to build. She cupped my balls, squeezing gently, eager for the flood of thick spunk. She stopped just as I was on the brink.

Looking up at me, she growled, “Now, get ready baby, fill my mouth, just like I’m a slut, fuck my mouth, feel the grip of my cock sucker lips, and blow your load into your little slut’s mouth!”

She took me in again, wildly sucking on my cock, and I went roaring over the edge. I could feel the pulse race up my cock, and I let go, my cock jerking, throbbing and pumping a flood, burning tingles of pleasure racing up and down my cock. Liz kept my cock in her mouth until the last drops had squirted out, then she swallowed me down to the balls, and pulled back, her lips milking tightly, wanting every drop out of my cock. She looked up, her eyes bright, smiling.

“Oh that was so delicious, and I didn’t spill a drop! I sure didn’t want to, not the way your cum’s so tasty!”

I picked her up, and she led me to the bedroom, we fell asleep with her cuddled against my side.

I woke up, blinking my eyes, and saw Liz grinning at me, dressed once again in her clunky pastor’s wife dress. I thought she was going to leave, until she smiled, turned on the bedside radio, and started to dance, she started to slowly peel away the dress, smiling as she saw my cock start to take notice. She really knew how to move her body, her hips swaying back and forth as she let the clunky dress fall away from her body. Her ass was almost in my face, the tiny scrap of lacy black panties covering just a small fraction of her cheeks. I saw off to the side, the bra being tossed away, she turned to face me, her hips wiggling, her succulent melons swaying with the movement, as she shimmied those panties off, letting them fall to her feet. My cock was rock hard, and she saw and beckoned me to her.

“Over here, by the mirror” she cooed, “lift me up, and use my cunt for your fucking pleasure.”

I did as she asked, I grasped her ass, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I notched against her as I drove it in, enjoying her squeal of pleasure as I filled up her needy pussy. She looked at the mirror image of us joined again.

Liz wriggled around on my prick, she laughed and said, “you’re looking at a lady who’s finally getting the fucking she deserves!”

Cupping her ass cheeks tightly, I started to lift her up and down, Liz was grunting and sighing with pleasure as I slammed in, over and over. The radio was still on, and we did a combination of dancing and fucking through the bedroom and out into the living room.

I could feel the stirring, my balls getting ready to let go. Liz was grunting and told me in language that a pastor’s wife would not normally use, to let her have it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, every time, it’s feels so good”, Liz panted, “Ram it to me, Jim! Fuck me, I want to feel that beautiful cock squirting in me again! I want your hot load deep inside my horny fuck-hole, escort bostancı give it to me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

I could feel my cock reaching for it, then the familiar jerk, swelling tight with a massive urgency.

“Oh yeah, your cock is so big, I’m gonna cum again!” Liz gasped, “cum with me Jim, let that load go, fill my burning cunt, cum with me, cum, cum, yes, yes, yes, YES!”

Her howl of climax brought on the explosion, as I blew another thick load into her fiery fuck-hole, our bodies shaking in the climax, her eager tightness sucking out every drop.

Later, as she was again dressed again in her dowdy outfit, she grinned at me.

“Everyone sees the good little pastor’s wifey, but what would they think if they knew that the good little wifey spent the day fucking and sucking a lover, and is going home with another man’s cum in my pussy? I can feel it deep inside, I’m going home like a good little wifey, with a cunt full of another man’s sperm, and it makes me feel so fucking horny, I’m gonna masturbate like crazy tonight! Can I come by tomorrow, I’ll have a surprise for you!”

“Baby, I’ll be eagerly waiting for you!”

Liz was back at Noon the next day, and she told me what she wanted.

“I want to put that bearskin rug to good use, just like the bride you photographed. I’m going to do a striptease, and I want it on film, so I can see how hot and fuckable I am, how fuckable you showed me that I am!”

Oh, this should be good. She was on the rug, wearing the dowdy dress, her hair in a non-flattering bun. As the camera shutter clicked, she freed her hair, and she slowly stripped off the dress, and as I got the full effect, my cock became rock hard. Under that dowdy dress Liz was wearing, she was wearing a flame red tanga style panty, that had a sheer, see-thru tanga style bottom that didn’t even cover half her ass. The waistband was merely a fine ribbon of red, that laced at the side, undo the bows, and it would just fall away. Her pussy was just barely covered by a thin panel of see-thru red fabric. She had on a matching flame-red garter belt, matching bra, that was in a demi-cup style, leaving the tops of her breasts, down to her nipples, uncovered. She also had on a pair of jet black stockings, and she was wearing stiletto heels, the whole package exploded the good little pastor’s wifey image completely. Smiling with pure lust, she slid her bra off, her nipples stiff and reddened, she ran her fingers over her hard nipples, letting out sighs of pleasure as she felt the zings shoot straight to her cunt. Giving the camera another look of wanton lust, she undid the bows and the sexy wisp of her panties fluttered down to her feet. She had shaved, and her bare, smooth-shaven pussy drove my cock up to maximum extension.

Grinning at the obvious bulge, she cooed, “I thought you’d like to see my naked, smooth-shaven pussy. Knowing that you would be the one to see my tight little pussy in all its glory, made me feel so fucking hot and horny, shaving last night! If you want to get naked too Jim, I’d enjoy that very much!”

No need to ask twice, in a moment, I was bare ass, giving my aroused cock the space it needed. She gave my cock a look of desire, she dropped to her knees and leaned back, her body slithering back and forth. She straightened up again, then she lay back, spreading her legs wide for me. She grinned as she produced her dildo.

“Film me fucking my cunt Jim, film me giving myself the pleasure that my husband doesn’t have in him!”

She slid the head of the dildo up and down her lips, letting her pouring juices lube it up, then, she notched it against her, and let out a growl of pleasure as she pushed hard, burying the entire seven inches in with one thrust. She pulled it back out and buried it again. As the camera clicked, Liz set to work, fucking herself furiously, the dildo ramming into Liz’s creamy center over and over as her fingers teased and tickled at her clit.

“Fuck, yes, so fucking good, gonna, gonna cum, yes, yes, yes, oh fuck YES!”

Her voice rose to a shriek as she stiffened, then her body started vibrating, she let out another loud howl, and her hips thrust up and down, fucking herself wildly while her orgasm crashed into her, her cries of climax filling my studio while I clicked away, my cock rock hard.

Pulling the dildo out, she gasped, “Get my cunt on film, my cunt that’s just been dildo fucked!”

I quickly positioned the camera and got that sexy shot, her lips flared out, the dewy inner pinkness glistening.

She whispered huskily, “Yeah, just like that sexy bride you filmed, what was her name?”

I managed to croak out “Renee.”

“Renee, such a sexy name, did the sexy bride you filmed want you to fuck her after she’d played with herself?” At my nod, she grinned and continued, “Did you enjoy ramming your cock into her golden-haired pussy?”

As I answered yes, she continued, “Excellent because that’s what I want now. And after you fuck me, I want you to take a picture of my cunt filled with your load. I’m sure the bride didn’t want that shot of her golden-haired cunt filled with your spunk since the pictures were for her husband, but since these pictures are only for myself, I want to see my cunt, freshly fucked and filled with your load! Fuck me now Jim, I’m still as horny and hot as hell!”

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

Growing up in the Southwest, where land is cheap and roads abound, you need a car. Some missteps out of high school that delayed my entry into college had left me with a rather poor cash-flow situation. For other kids I knew, as 18 wore on into 19, 19 into 20, the compact but late-model Honda was part of the territory, probably financed in part through parental generosity or judicious allocation of student loan funds. Me, it was all I could do to get a first car that was as old as I was: an old 4-cylinder BMW 2002 sedan.

For those reading this who may be unfamiliar with this long defunct model, don’t let the number fool you: 2002 was the model number, not the year. (I don’t even know the exact year of the car but it was in the 70s.) And don’t let the make fool you either—BMW would eventually come to be best known in the United States for its sport and luxury models, but this squat, boxy, vaguely Eastern-bloc looking sedan was (or had been when brand new) no more than a German grocery-getter.

When I finally took possession of it, seeming destined to be its last owner, this rusty, dented, tired looking old nag of car had the dubious virtue of being, in the words of Mike, a co-worker at the gas station where I worked, a “hipster Eurotrashmobile”—strangely admired by a certain skinny-jeans-and-bowling-shirt set, who perhaps enjoyed the irony of a status-symbol label on such a piece of crap. (Honestly I’m not sure what they saw in it. I would much rather have had a later model that had a warranty and started reliably.)

So I had a love-hate relationship with the car. It was hard to start cold, smoked like a train, stalled out at idle, and had sticky vinyl seats that were sagging and distended, with springs and foam and horsehair protruding errantly through various tears and gashes in the upholstery. Almost nothing on the instrument panel worked—AC, heat, cigarette lighter, dome light, radio. And yet I couldn’t help but enjoy the persistent compliments from strangers, sometimes averaging one a week, even if they were mostly from hipsters whose aesthetic sensibility generally bewildered me. It wasn’t just a car; it was a conversation piece.

“The dyke from next door likes your car,” Mike told me one day after I came back in from changing the price signs. The “dyke” he was referring to was a tall, heavyset, tomboyish blonde named Sam who worked at the oil change shop whose lot adjoined ours. She was dour, apparently humorless, and would grace our shop at least once a day with her grease-spattered coveralls and whatever hair she had up tucked into her ball cap, to buy Marlboro Lights and fountain Dr. Pepper. She was not unfriendly—not rude the way many customers can be. In fact, I always thought there was something good natured and trustworthy in her deliberate southern drawl, her steady, confident, no-nonsense gaze. She just wasn’t one for chit-chat, that was all; not one who recognized any value in the social lubricant of please and thank-you, greeting and leave-taking. She would come in, place her order, pay, and leave. That was that.

And she was, very probably, a lesbian, or so I thought. But I privately disliked Mike’s insistence on referring to her as “the dyke.” She may not have been the most pleasant person, but she wasn’t exactly unpleasant either; she had never given me any reason to disparage her behind her back. In a business like ours where so many people are rude, it seemed wrong somehow to trash-talk one of the better customers, even if she would never find out.

But there was more to my private mental defense of her than that. What I could never admit to Mike: I actually found her quite attractive.

She was fat, which I don’t mean pejoratively—just descriptively. I’ve always liked bigger women. She had a belly and love handles and big boobs and a great big round behind. But even so, fatness was not her most salient feature; the impression she gave was of someone strong and sturdy, a tall, square, durable frame hung with capable muscles. Her womanly traits were dampened by her boxy coveralls, her strong, businesslike carriage, and the fact that she never wore makeup. But her womanly traits were there nonetheless, available in plain view to the observant and the imaginative. You could tell she had the boobs even if she wasn’t doing anything to help you notice them, and the fact that she looked as good as she did without makeup, with her deep blue eyes and smooth pink-freckled cheeks, should have been a clue as to how nicely she would clean up.

It was so unusual to think of Sam actually chatting with one of the cashiers that I wasn’t even sure I believed Mike at first. “When did she say this?” I asked, probably betraying a note of challenge in my voice.

“Just came in a minute ago when you were out changing the pump sings. Said ‘who’s car?’, and I told her it was yours and she said ‘nice car’, and that was it.”

“Really?” I asked, and looked futilely across the lot to the lube shop as though I could gain kadıköy escort some information by studying the open garage bay doors.

“Yep. Dyke digs your car bro’.”

I know. I really should have protested, should not have been tacitly complicit in his disrespect. But on some level I was part of the same stupid conspiracy he was furthering, to deny what I liked, to consent—if only by my silence—to the ridiculous truism that a 5’11”, 180 pound Amazon woman with boobs and biceps can’t be gorgeous, as Sam so obviously was. Or that a big strong woman who worked on cars had to be a lesbian (which, alas, seemed a slightly safer generalization).

I was intrigued, though; my curiosity was piqued. “So,” I thought to myself with a smile, “the dyke likes my car.”

* * *

I was scheduled to open the following Sunday. Sunday-open is both the best and worst shift to work at a suburban convenience store. What makes it the worst the fact that it’s, well, Sunday morning; opening up at six means waking up in the five o’clock hour on a day when the rest of the world is sleeping off a hangover. But, paradoxically, this is precisely what was nice about actual workload of the shift itself. Weekday-open you’re always slammed, and everyone’s irritable and in a hurry to get to work, and you have to juggle the endless line at the register with the near-constant need to brew fresh coffee. Sundays it was not unusual to have the first coffee-and-newspaper customers saunter in at a leisurely pace, happy and well-rested, well into the nine o’clock hour. Once I made it all the way to ten—literally half-way through my shift(!)—before seeing my very first customer of the day. Unlike weekdays and afternoons, they only schedule one cashier for Sunday open, and there’s a certain peace in the solitude.

The sun was still low in the east, the sky its morning pink-orange-blue, and, sitting on my stool and sipping my coffee, I looked up from my newspaper to gaze out the window and take in the serene view. The spell was broken by the tinny clatter of the bell-string tied to the door to announce the entry of a customer. I spun around in my stool and there, in fresh blue coveralls with embroidered patches—an ovular one over the breast pocket that ringed a cursive “Sam,” another high on the sleeve advertising “ASE” certification, whatever that meant—was “the dyke” herself, padding over to the soda fountain to fill a quart-sized plastic cup with Dr. Pepper. “Morning,” I hailed, not expecting and not receiving a reply. I plucked a pack of cigarettes down from the overhead rack and set them on the counter.

She came up to the register. I looked at my watch. “You’re here early. Thought you guys didn’t open up until ten on Sunday.”

“I’ve got inventory today before my crew gets in. Marlboro Lights soft-pack.” The pack was already on the counter so I slid it forward to draw her attention to it, and to the fact that I had helpfully anticipated her order. If she was impressed by this example of great customer service she did nothing to so indicate.

I watched as her clean strong hands retrieved bills from her Harley-Davidson chain wallet and noted how spotlessly clean her closely cropped fingernails were, which they never were at night. An image flashed into my mind of her with pumice and brush, scrubbing assiduously until every trace of grime was dispatched, knowing full well she would repeat the ritual the next day, and every day after that. She had meticulous streak in her, I decided. Suddenly, I had an urge to make small talk, to try to keep her in the store if only for a moment longer.

“It’s beautiful eh?” I tried, gesturing with a cock of my head to the east-facing window behind me.

“What?” she asked, looking up from her wallet, as though annoyed by the interruption.

“Rosy-fingered dawn,” I said wistfully.

Her eyes narrowed and a deep furrow cut into her brow and, with a surprising note of hostility she snapped: “What?! What are you talking about?”

I was so surprised by her apparent anger that I had no idea what to say. After a few glottal stops I managed: “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well look, I don’t know who the fuck this Rosie and Dawn are or why you think it’s okay to tell me this—”

“N-n-n-no!” I interrupted hastily, palms forward, “it’s-it’s-it’s Homeric epithet! From the Odyssey. You know, mythology? Eos the dawn has rosy—rose-colored—fingers like, like, like the uh, you know, like those pink streaks of clouds,” I pointed out the window.

She studied me with arched eyebrow, the skeptical air of someone trying to determine whether she’s being had, and eventually broke my gaze to look out the window behind me. She looked at the sky for a moment, her face betraying no particular appreciation of the view, and then her eyes brightened noticeably as they lit on something in the nearer distance. She looked at my name tag and then at me and said, with as cheerful a tone as I had ever heard kadıköy escort bayan from her: “You’re Bart!”

I was puzzled by the sudden change in tone. “Yeah,” I confirmed warily.

“I had you confused with another dude in here works nights. That’s your car,” she pointed.

“Oh. Yeah. Yes it is.”

“That is a great car, sir.”

I was still a bit back on my heels, reeling from her rapid change of mood, which is probably why I flubbed my first and probably only opportunity to find common ground with this woman. Perhaps all that was needed was for me to agree with her enthusiastically, and we might have proceeded to have a pleasant conversation. But instead, unthinkingly, I damned my car with faint praise, saying, “yeah, it’s okay I guess.”

Immediately her face fell, any trace of brightness or felicity extinguished. “It’s a great car,” she affirmed, with the tone of someone who doesn’t suffer philistinism well.

“Yeah, no, I didn’t, I mean—uh” I hastened to save it, blurting out: “I’ve always liked BBWs.”

Now her brow sank again into an expression of withering disdain. Then I heard it too, the Freudian slip, and clumsily tried to fix it: “BM!” I nearly shouted, and then, miserably, realized that that too demanded correction—I couldn’t seem to open my mouth without digging a deeper hole. “W!” I added. Finally: “BMW! Was… what I meant to say. Instead of, you know…. Look, can we start this whole conversation over? Like maybe you could go out and come back in.” I flashed what must have seemed a simpering grin.

“How much oil are you losing?”

“God, it’s ridiculous—like a quart every time I get gas, feels like. Is that typical for those cars?”

“No.”

“Well, then, how did you—”

“Because you’re getting blue-black smoke. I saw you pulling out onto the road the other day.”

“Is that bad?”

“You think it’s good? Means rings eventually. But in the mean time at least you can try heavier viscosities, maybe an additive. When’s the last time you had the oil changed?”

I averted my eyes and, in a conspicuous poker tell, looked anxiously at the floor before saying: “Um, it was—”

“Don’t lie ’cause I’ll know. Soon as I get a look at that dipstick I’m gonna know.”

Absurdly, all I could think to say to this was: “I’m sorry.” To this day I’m not sure if I was apologizing for thinking of bullshitting her or for not being a better custodian of my car.

“Sir, a high-mileage vehicle like that—the oil is the single most important thing.”

“Guess I figured as often as I was adding quarts the oil was kind of—” I shrugged and let out a nervous chuckle “—changing itself.”

At this she let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. “Listen, sir—”

“Wh-why don’t you call me Bart?” (Honestly, what was this “Sir” business anyway? She had to be at least five years older than I was. And she was talking to me like I was an oil-change customer—but she was in my store, I wasn’t in hers.)

“Bart. Why don’t bring her in and let me get under that hood. You can pull her round right now if you want. We’re starting a special on oil and lube tomorrow but I’ll give you the discount today.”

“Well, that’s awfully kind of you to offer but, didn’t you say you had inventory?”

“I can work around my crew this afternoon if I have to. I consider this like a medical emergency.”

* * *

It was not even eight o’clock when she phoned the store to summon me to her work bay, where I stood feeling a bit like a kid at the principal’s office. She had the hood propped and the dipstick lay out on an improbably clean looking shop towel. “I just figured I’d leave this out for you, let you see it.” She presented the stick for my inspection. “See how black that is. Now touch it.” I hesitated. “Go on. Wipes right off. Just see how watery it is.”

I touched it. “Pretty watery,” I agreed.

“That’s what you’re doing when you just add instead of changing. Viscosity breaks down over time. You end up with a crankcase full of black water and sludge. She wiped the stick, slid it into its housing, and retrieved it once more. The stick was now coated (to within a millimeter of the correct quart mark) with a transparent yellowish oil. “That’s how it’s supposed to look, sir.”

“Bart.”

“Bart.”

But my dressing down continued as, point by point, she walked me through all of the evidence of neglected basic maintenance: Sooty spark plugs; underinflated tires; corroded battery terminal posts. If my car had been a dog she would have called the SPCA.

Oddly, as all this was taking place, I didn’t feel nearly as miserable as one might expect. In fact, it was actually turning me on. Maybe it was just because I’d been attracted to her all along, and so welcomed the opportunity to follow the sway over her big blue-clad hips as she circled back and forth around my car to point out the various evidences of neglect. Or maybe it was deeper than that—that I escort kadıköy felt somehow cared for through all this attention to my car, as though I had finally broken a thick layer of ice with this mysterious “dyke next door,” even if her attitude was like that of a drill sergeant inspecting a particularly sloppy platoon. Or maybe I was discovering a submissive streak in me that I didn’t even know I had—maybe I actually liked the drill-sergeant treatment a little.

Whatever it was, it was getting worse and worse: The longer she talked the less I could seem to concentrate on what she was saying, and the more brazen I became in my attempts to steal glances at her, here at her wide hips and big butt as she bent into the engine compartment on the leeward side of the car, there as she betrayed a rare glimpse of cleavage when she bent over windward. As the lecture wore on I started to get an aching boner. It was mercifully soft, as boners go—not the kind to press noticeably against my pants. But even at half-strength it was throbbing ravenously and siphoning off all my attention.

To make matters worse, she was so stern and serious that I found myself strangely tempted to make inappropriate jokes at about every other sentence she uttered. I managed to restrain myself (for a while), but the urge was uncanny. I was like the kids in that old cartoon show, Beavis and Butt-head, hearing sexual innuendo in every little thing she said: “…getting some blow-by here…”; “…need to get that good and lubed up so it slides right in…”; “…getting some pulsation on the rear-end…”; “…and it slides in and out over and over at very high speeds…” It was dizzying. I could barely contain myself. Everything she said sounded like it had a double meaning!

“One more thing,” she said, with a welcome note of finality. “On these terminal posts, after you do the baking soda thing we talked about…” she walked over to a work bench where there sat—I hadn’t noticed it before—and institutional-use, gallon-sized jar of Vaseline. I felt my pulse quicken a little at the sight of that jar here, in this setting, incongruously placed amidst all the various parts and tools. I may have even blushed. The reason is a little embarrassing.

I grew up in a religious (you might say fundamentalist) household, where I spent much of my pubescence shamefully convinced that I was among a tiny, insignificant percentage of the human population that was actually depraved enough to masturbate. My weapon of choice had been the family’s community stock of Vaseline, tucked away under the sink in my parents’ bathroom, and I was probably kidding myself in hoping no one in the family noticed its frequent, too-rapid depletion, nor even just the oily smell of it on me. I have long-since discontinued the use of Vaseline for this purpose, but I still get a giddy little twinge when I see a jar of it—afraid to look at it lest someone decode my facial expression and instantly know my history with it.

Accordingly, as she popped the lid off the giant jar (the old familiar smell wafted up to my nostrils and—talk about conditioned response!—I felt my stiffening cock actually jump in my pants), I quickly averted my eyes. She scooped out a thick handful of the yellow-gray goop and walked over to the far side where the battery sat; I stood motionless, feet fixed to the floor.

“If you’ll just smear a little like so, it will protect against corrosion.” Finally I gathered the courage to look up and, directly in front of me, across the expanse of engine, there was the single best cleavage view I’d ever gotten of Sam. Ordinarily she kept the coveralls zipped pretty high up on her chest and wore a crewneck t-shirt beneath. Today, perhaps owing to the fact that it was Sunday, she had some type of tank-shirt on underneath the uniform and, at the same time, the zipper was unzipped nearly to the bottom of her bosom.

My eye moved back and forth from where her strong hand was spreading translucent goo onto my freshly cleaned battery, up to her enormous freckled boobs that were now jiggling in time with the mildly circular motion of her hand. I couldn’t help but juxtapose the two images in my mind, a sort of gestalt, as I imagined her spreading lubricant on my shaft and then enveloping me between those large tits until I erupted in orgasm onto her chin, neck and sternum. I was staring now in a mute trance and I’m pretty sure my mouth hung slightly agape.

Then she froze. I looked up, about two-beats too late, and found myself looking directly into her now-narrowed eyes. Busted. “Getting all this?” she asked, with a note of angry sarcasm.

At this worst of all possible moments, as though from some kind of neurological misfire, I did perhaps the worst thing I could have done. I did not apologize; I did not try to play it off or protest my innocence. What did I do? I finally succumbed to the idiotic urge to make a double-entendre and, before I could even think what I was doing, blurted out (smarmily): “Now that’s what I call a lube job.”

She immediately stood up and zipped her coveralls up to her neck. “I’ll go get your invoice,” she said huffily, and started to walk away.

“No! Wait! Sam!” I cried, “I’m sorry—please!”

“I’ll get your invoice.”

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

It is still very early in morning when I wake up. The hazy light from sun rise starting to shine through the thin curtains of the hotel room. Next to me sleeping soundly partially covered by a thin sheet and beautifully naked is the tiny angel Lisa. My mind racing back to yesterday, we managed to escape our family commitments for a quiet weekend away together and last night we went on an incredible date of dinner dancing and then dessert consisted of devouring each other in the hotel room I got use for our time together.

Lisa’s little snore which almost resembled a kitten’s purr woke me from my reverie. Turning to face her I admire the soft contours of her body and the bronze tan of her skin. She is laying partly on her side her left hand cradling her head and her right resting across her taut belly. My eyes are drawn to her beautiful nipples, they are perfectly round and stand out dark against the soft white skin of her breasts.

Without thought my hand reaches out gently caresses her side, careful not to wake her it slides up and down to her hips and eventually down to her exposed ass. The movement or attention causes Lisa to stir slightly and she rolls further on her back pulling the little bit of sheet that Kadıköy Escort was covering her waist down exposing her smooth pussy. Her purring continues after she has resettled.

The sight of her pussy, smooth, the outer lips puffy and slightly pink framing her slightly longer inner lips bulging a little at the top where they join to cover her clit is so inviting that as gently as possible I move till my face is within inches of her lovely folds. Taking one more long look up her body and face from between her legs I lean in and start to lick those sweet lips from top to bottom swirling my tongue side to side. Working my tongue between them tasting her wetness as my tongue finds itself deeper and deeper in her pussy.

As I work my tongue in and out of her pussy, I start to move my mouth around a little sucking her pussy lips in and out of my mouth. The purring I could hear earlier has now stopped and I feel Lisa thrusting her pussy at my face. I cannot get enough of her. Her juices tasting so sweet and tangy as I finally pay some attention to her clit. Using my tongue to lick it and flick the hood I start to push and probe around till her clit is exposed slightly and receiving my full attentions.

A Kadıköy Escort Bayan pair of tiny hands suddenly grab my hair and hold my head as her pelvis starts to thrust hard against my mouth as I suck directly on her clit. My face is now covered in pussy juices and her purring turns to whimpers to moans. Soon she gasps.

“Oh fuck Stephen that’s it suck me! lick me! eat my wet pussy! oh oh oh!”

Her comments trail off as she loses ability to speak and just starts to grunt and thrust again. Her moans become much louder when she feels two fingers slide deep into her pussy now sopping wet and opened wide by her obscenely spread legs. Her feet now resting on my shoulders as she tries to lever herself against my tongue as it flicks her clit.

Hooking my fingers slightly I start to thrust them in deep and as I pull them out rub the soft mass where her g spot is. Sucking and licking her clit faster and harder I pick up speed with my fingers. Lisa’s moans now getting stronger

“oh god I’m gonna cum Stephen, Mmmm oh fuck yes, yes! yes!”

Without any more prompting I pumped my fingers as fast as I could and sucked her clit for all I was worth. My reward was an unexpected Escort Kadıköy explosion as her pussy erupted squirting over my face and neck. Her high pitch squeals as she came get drowned out as her legs clamp onto the sides of my head holding my mouth against her pussy. My tongue feels her muscles contract and pulse as her orgasm racks through her body. Not daring to move I let her settle and adjust as the waves subside. Finally pulling my face away from the amazing feast that is her pussy. Crawling up her beside her body I smiled at her.

“Hope you enjoyed your wake up call as much as I did sweets,” I say grinning stupidly my face still soaking wet.

“Oh god I could stand to be woken up like that every day, but now I think I should return the favor,” leaning in and kissing me deeply before starting to move down my body her hand already holding my hard throbbing cock, starting to stroke it.

Before she gets there though I stop her.

“No my sweet that was my treat for you and now we get up and I make you breakfast,” kissing her forehead and pulling her up into a hug. Before dragging her out of bed and carrying her out to the bathroom, setting her down in the large shower.

“Now freshen up and I will sort out some breakfast for you my queen,” kissing her and turning to leave.

“I hope you are going to stay here and help me get clean, THEN… WE… are going to have some breakfast” a wicked smile on her face as she wraps her arms around me and pulls me towards her.

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