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

It was about 20 years ago. I was married at the time, but not happy at all. I also had a girlfriend who I got together with just for sex.

This particular night I couldn’t find my girlfriend anywhere at all. I had tried every bar that we ever went to and a few more. I drank a lot but didn’t feel it. Probably because I was so horny.

It was really snowing on this weekend night and the driving was very rough. I stopped at a red light but couldn’t get going again when the light changed. A city plow had cleaned the cross street and left a big pile of snow in the street. This really pissed me off. First I couldn’t find my girlfriend, then I was getting hornier by the minute and thought that I was going to get shutout again. As I was rocking the car back and forth this young guy started pushing from behind. After a few minutes we got the car out of the pile of snow and I drove across the street and stopped. I got out and thanked the guy for helping me out. He said that it was “no problem.” I told him that the least I could do was give him a lift to where ever he was going. He said the he was going home and that it was just a couple of miles maltepe escort down the street. Also that he would really appreciate the ride.

We got in the car and he said that his name was Dave. I guessed that he was around 20 years old and he looked clean cut. He was thin to average build and not a bad looking kid. I tried to keep the small talk going but probably because I was so horny I had trouble keeping my mind off sex. We got to another cross street and he told me to turn right and that he lived a couple of blocks down.

By now the snow was really coming down. I drove another block and pulled to the curb. Even to this day I don’t know what I was thinking or why I stopped. I just stopped the car and sat there. Dave said that his house was a little further down the street. I didn’t say anything for a full minute and neither did he. All this time I was just sitting there shaking for all I was worth. I looked at Dave and asked if he “played”. He clearly didn’t know what I was talking about.

Then it happened! I reached over and placed my right hand on his crotch. He looked pendik escort a little startled, but didn’t protest. I felt his cock on his leg and started rubbing it through his pants. His cock felt very long and thin. As I rubbed it he moaned a little and moved so that I had better access to his crotch. I tried to oped his belt and pants but was having trouble. He helped me by completely opening his pants and dropping then to his knees.

I put my hand on his cock and because we were under a street light I could see it clearly. Even though the snow had by now covered the windows. To this day I remember how good looking it was. As I held the first cock, other than my own, it felt so smooth and soft. It was growing at a good rate and fully erect it was about 7 inches long. But it really wasn’t fat at all. I’m about 6 inches and fairly fat.

I couldn’t help myself. I bent over and took him in my mouth. My mind was reeling. I was sucking a cock and loving it! I wanted to get a better angle at him so I took his left leg out of his pants and it was much easier to suck him that way. It was kaynarca escort great. That’s the only way to describe it. GREAT! Because his cock was so thin I was able to take all of him in my mouth and throat. I guess I sucked him for about five minutes before he started to really move his ass and began moaning louder. He never told me that he was going to cum, but I knew what was going to happen. I sucked as hard and fast as I could because I wanted to really please him. When he started to cum I kept my mouth tightly around his cock and kept sucking in all of his cum. I was able to swallow ever bit of the cum and I was surprised at how good it tasted. I continued to suck until he was empty and clean.

I sat up and smiled. He told me to take my pants off because he wanted to do the same to me. I did and he did too. I had received many blow jobs from women but never one from a guy. I have to say that he was pretty good but not he best. However, he only had to suck me for a couple of minutes before I exploded a huge load in his mouth. He wasn’t able to swallow it all though. But he did clean up any left over cum.

We said our goodbye’s and thanks and Dave got out of the car and disappeared into the snow. I never saw where he lived or knew just who he was. It was much better that way. Now twenty some years later I still think about that night. I have never done it with another man and I don’t want to. I’ll never forget him, but I sometimes wish I could just live that one night again.

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’m shy. I’ve been shy all my life, every one of my 28 years, terminally shy. Does it piss me off? Sure, at times, but what am I supposed to do? Read a book? Take courses? It doesn’t work that way: knowledge isn’t going to get me out of it. Nothing will. Or so I thought — before I met Beth.

I saw her a few times in the cafeteria at work before I actually met her. Like every other girl in the place I didn’t pay any attention to her, why would I? I knew I wasn’t going to talk to her; knew that at the slightest provocation, even a slight movement in my direction, I’d bolt for my cubicle in the Accounts Department.

But there was something different about her. For one, she was always alone, and for another, every time I noticed her she was looking at me.

I didn’t know what to make of it: no one ever looked at me. But this girl did. I tried to ignore her at first and I succeeded for awhile, but then I found myself searching for her, surreptitiously of course, when I walked from the cafeteria checkout to a table and every time I caught sight of her she was hunched over her tray following me with her eyes, always with the same look on her face. What that look meant I had no idea, but there was no doubt that she was blocking out everything around her and she was looking only at me.

I didn’t know her name, who she was or even what department she worked in. All I knew was what I could see. She was plump, with very heavy breasts and a plain but pretty face. That’s it.

Then I found out she was about 5’5″ because she was standing at my bus stop after work one Friday night. She had a small red overnight bag in her hand which was on her lap when I walked past her on the bus. She got out at my stop. I know this because as I left from the middle door she left from the front door and I had to pass her for the five minute walk to my apartment.

By definition, shy people tend not to be curious but it was all I could do not to look back to see where she was going. But later when I approached my apartment building I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw her reflection in the glass door. She was standing behind me, waiting as I fumbled with the key, and when I opened the door she passed right by me and walked to the centre of the small foyer where she turned and waited for me. “I want to talk to you,” she said, “I’ll follow you to your apartment.”

I was frozen to the floor, wanting to flee but I couldn’t move my feet.

“What number?” she asked, as she took my arm and forced me towards the elevators.

“432,” I mumbled, not smart enough to lie.

We waited for the elevator in silence and she said nothing on the ride up, nor the walk to the door. Inside, she put her overnight bag on the floor by the door and went into the living room and sat on the couch. I was trapped; it was all I could do not to panic, to just start running.

She looked at me sternly, it scared me. “May I have some tea?”

“I don’t have any.” I never drink tea.

“Wine?”

Relieved, I moved to a cupboard, pulled out my only bottle of red which I quickly opened and poured into my only wine glass. My hand was shaking when I handed it to her but she might not have noticed because she was looking at me with the same look I had seen so many times in the cafeteria.

I retreated to the entrance by the kitchen and stood awkwardly in silence.

“I’d like it if you would have a glass with me, Peter.”

I turned and obediently did as requested and when I returned to the edge of the living room she directed me to sit down in the chair opposite her.

I did and sipped nervously from the tumbler and waited, like I was waiting for a job interview or the test results for some dreadful disease. But she didn’t say anything, not until I had almost finished my wine.

“I brought some things in that bag,” she pointed. “I’m going to stay the weekend with you.”

I looked at her for the first time, stunned by her words.

“May I have some more wine?”

I quickly left my chair, got the bottle from the kitchen and placed it on the edge of the coffee table in front of her.

“Would you pour it for me? And have some more yourself.”

I did as directed, wondering what this was about — and when she would leave. I sat down and waited for an explanation.

She must have seen my shaking hand this time because she said, “I don’t want to upset you, Peter. I want to get to know you. That’s why I’ve come here. How else can I get to know you? You’re more comfortable here than anywhere else, so I thought this is the best place to do it.”

“But you can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t.”

“I can and I will, I brought my things. I’ll stay for the weekend.”

“There’s no room.”

“There’s lot of room, so it’s settled. I’m staying,” she stood up and walked across the room and picked up her bag. “I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.”

My options tumbled out in a blur: I could call the police; I could physically push her out the door; I could leave sancaktepe escort myself; I could … what? What could I do? I could do nothing. Could she just walk into my place and stay? Is that possible? What does she want?

And that’s what I asked her when she came back into the living.

She stood in the middle of the room, “I want to get to know you, I’ve told you that.”

That just didn’t make any sense but when I looked up at her to try to read her face, to try to understand what she really wanted, I almost ran for the door. She had on a very short blue skirt and a light yellow blouse through which I could easily see her huge red bra.

“Do you like it?” She was smiling at me, turning a little to the left and right as fashion models do, then, before I could engage my legs to flee, she came over and kneeled beside my chair — no more than a foot from me. “I’ll make a deal with you, Peter,” I heard her, of course, but I couldn’t look at her. “I’m going to stay the weekend with you. I’ll go home Sunday night after dinner and, if you want, after that, you will never hear from me again. Ever. I promise. But I would really, really like it if you would give me a chance to get to know you and for you to get to know me. What have you got to lose? I’ll do the cooking and I’ll clean your house if you want, all you have to do is talk to me.” She stood up. “I’ll make supper.”

I get panic attacks, regularly. Not bad ones, just a shortness of breath and an urgent need to run. I was getting one now. But it passed quickly. I didn’t want to flee. I wanted to stay and I knew, deep down, I wanted her to stay, too. I masturbate, regularly, and for the past few months every time I did I thought of her — she is the only girl who has ever looked at me.

But that didn’t mean I could move. I couldn’t. I was terrified to get up; I was terrified to be near her and I guess she sensed that because she came back into the room and bent down and kissed me on the head. “I’m going to be good for you, Peter, really, really good for you,” and she placed her hand on my cheek and gently pulled me into her breasts before walking back into the kitchen.

And I went there too, 20 minutes later when she called me. The food was on the table — I don’t know what it was, even though I was staring at it. I couldn’t look at her. “Why,” I said, “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

She squeezed my arm, “I was being honest with you, Peter, absolutely honest. I really want to get to know you and I really want you to get to know me. That’s why I’m here.” She hesitated for a moment, “But there’s more.” I risked a quick look at her before turning back to the plate. “I like you. I like the way you look, I like the way you move and I really like that you’re so shy.” She hesitated again. “Do you know why?”

I didn’t look at her, “No. That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“Really shy people don’t meet people. So if I make you get to know me I might have a chance with you. And I want that. I’ve asked about you, quietly, but lots of time. You’re really really smart, really good at your job and you can be really successful. But you need someone to help you deal with your shyness. I can do that — I’m not shy at all.” If she was waiting for a reaction I was too scared to give her one, so she continued. “In return, maybe I can get you to like me as much as I like you and if you do … well, girls like me don’t often get a chance to get guys like you.”

“What do you mean girls like you …”

“Look at me.” I didn’t, I just got as far as her chest before turning back to the plate. “I’m not very good looking, nowhere near as good looking as you and I’m just a clerk, not in management like you. Girls like me, plain and homely, we get passed up every time. I don’t want to be passed up. Not by you. That’s why I’m here. I know it’s sort of wrong to do what I’m doing — forcing myself on you, but if I didn’t you’d never even talk to me, would you?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Look, I may be a little plain on the outside, but I’m really hot on the inside and I want you to see that in me.” She squeezed my arm again. “I think we can be a great team, Peter and I’m going to do everything I can to try to make it happen.” She stood up and kissed me on the head before sitting down again, “Now eat your veggies, they’re good for you.”

I didn’t think about her words, they didn’t make any sense to me, but there was no doubt she meant them. Well, no, I did think about one word she used: hot, ‘I’m really hot inside’ — that gave me a hard-on.

She was patient with me. She asked me questions about myself, waited patiently for my answer, often giving a little insight about herself and always making sure my tumbler was full. When the bottle was empty, she asked if I had another. When I said I didn’t, she got up, went down the hall and came back with a bottle, which she handed me without comment.

It was awkward at first, of course. I had never had a conversation ümraniye escort with a woman but pretty soon I was enjoying it. We weren’t really talking about me; we were talking about things and when, after we had finished the meal, she got up to go into the living room, I followed without thinking and we carried on in there, drinking wine and just talking.

I wasn’t dreading the moment. Earlier on I knew I would be sleeping on the couch, so late in the evening when she got up, put the two glasses on the counter and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, I took a pillow from my bed, my sleeping bag from the closet and a box of kleenex from the hall closet. I was a little drunk, sure but I was excited, too. I had actually pulled off a conversation with a girl … and the girl seemed to like me. I sat down on the couch, opened the new box of tissue and waited for the bathroom to be free. I couldn’t wait to get to bed. I have never been so horny.

I had my underwear pushed down and my penis in my hand when the light flicked on in the kitchen and then she was there, black against the light. But not for long. When she leaned over to turn the living room lamp on I could see the full outline of her left breast and I almost spasmed into the kleenex resting on my belly.

“What are you doing?” She seemed to be annoyed.

“What?” I said, turning on my side, making sure I could press my hard-on into the couch if she came any closer.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in your bed? There’s lots of room.”

When the light had come on I was afraid to look at her, but I did now and I think I gasped. She wore a white negligee. She looked like an angel. “No,” I said, and I turned over, pressing my now almost spasming prick into the couch and squeezing my eyes shut against her image.

I didn’t sleep that night. Not once. I masturbated. The first time, before she made it back to bedroom, but the other four times I did it slowly, very slowly, thinking about her, in her white flimsy negligee, in her sexy red bra but mostly when I thought of her I was in her arms and she was caressing me.

I was disappointed next morning when I saw her in the kitchen. She didn’t have on the white negligee; she was wearing the same clothes she had worn to work yesterday.

But she was disappointed, too, she made that perfectly clear, “I wanted to sleep with you last night,” she handed me a cup of coffee. “We don’t have to do anything, but we’re going to sleep together tonight. I want you to know that now.” Then she kissed me lightly on the cheek. “I said I want us to get to know each other and I meant it.”

I don’t know why, probably because I had been fucking her in my thoughts for the past eight hours but just the sight of her this morning got me going again and I mumbled, “I want to get to know you, too.”

She had turned away from me and was reaching for her coffee on the counter when I said this and she spun around, stunned. “You do?”

When I blushed, I could feel my whole body turn red but still I said, “You looked beautiful last night.” She looked confused, I don’t think she knew what I meant. “In your white nightie.”

She didn’t hesitate. She turned and left. I thought I had insulted her, made her mad, I even had a flash of fear that she might leave. I didn’t know what to do. I was going to go after her to apologize but, as usual, I couldn’t move and then in a few minutes she was there, in front of me, in her white negligee and she was looking at me, in the way she looks at me but now she said, “God, Peter, I just want you to want me.”

I stood stupid, staring at her. I could see her big breasts were loose behind the thin white film. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either but we can work it out.” She took my hand and led me down the hall to the bedroom.

Shy fear. I knew everything there was to know about shy fear. This wasn’t that, this was terror, gut-wrenching terror but her touch, her hand in mine and then her fingers undoing the buttons of my shirt — they felt so knowing, so confident, so reassuring that I accepted them, instinctively, as I might accept a helping hand from danger. And then there was that look. I don’t know what it meant but it made me feel safe, it always made me feel safe.

When her hands clasped the waistband of my underwear I stopped her and she didn’t object, she climbed onto the bed and brought me with her and I was lying beside her, feeling the heat through the white film between us and she slowly pressed me to her, pulling my chest into hers, my face into her neck and she held me tight, like in my mind she had held me tight all night.

And that’s when it happened; a moment of utter clarity: for the first time in my life I realized I could be with somebody — I didn’t need to be alone.

The moan that escaped my lips seemed almost mournful and I think she thought so to because she pushed gently away and looked down at me while she slowly moved her hand along my stomach and when tuzla escort it crawled beneath my underwear and touched my erection I turned into her, pressing myself deep into her soft, hot flesh and I emptied myself on her hand as I surrendered myself to her body, pushing myself into it like it was a cocoon and I felt so safe, so secure that in time I gave in to my exhaustion and fell asleep.

My face was pressed into her enormously soft breasts and she was lightly caressing my hair when I awoke. It surprised me how child-like I felt, it was as if this was a familiar place for me, a warm place where I felt absolutely safe.

I must have stirred because she pulled away and looked at me, the same look, but now she smiled and gave me a light kiss on the lips and as she did, she slipped her fingers under my underwear again and gently took hold of my penis and she stroked it as she pressed her lips into mine until my groan.

This time she didn’t let me snuggle into her. Instead, she bounded off the bed and disappeared down the hall but was back within a minute, standing at the foot of the bed where she leaned over, quickly removed my underwear and began cleaning me with a wet warm face cloth. “You’re beautiful, Peter,” she was concentrating on her task, “you’re absolutely beautiful,” then she sat beside me and gently stroked me again, taking my balls in her hand and fondling them.

In the afternoon she took me for a walk in the park and we stopped for groceries on the way home and some wine which we sipped while I watched her cook.

“Do you masturbate, Peter?” She was busy chopping, “I do. I do all the time. I didn’t, not really, not before I saw you, but ever since then …” Now she looked back at me and smiled, “well.” She turned and began chopping again but soon gave it up and turned back to me, leaning back against the counter. When we got home she had changed into her short skirt, sheer yellow blouse and red bra and she looked lovely. “Everything changed for me that first day I saw you. I just started to think about you all the time. I couldn’t stop.” She smiled, “And I don’t want to stop. I love thinking about you — love how I feel when I think about you.” She looked totally relaxed, she could have been talking about the weather. “What do you think, Peter?”

“About what?”

She folded her arms over her breasts, “I don’t know about anything.”

“I don’t know what to think.”

She smiled, “It’s hard for you isn’t it? A shy guy like you. But I hope as you get to know me you’ll talk to me about the things you’re thinking, I really want to know them, I really want to know how I can make you happy.”

That made me sad. I didn’t know why at first but I thought about it all evening as she talked but I finally figured it out when we went to bed: she may want me but I couldn’t see anything I had to give her.

I saw her in the cafeteria on Monday, but only out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t know what to do, what to say to her so I avoided her and ate out the rest of the week, hating myself that I was so weak and hating that I would be alone all weekend.

But she was sitting on her red overnight bag beside my apartment door when I returned home on Friday night. She stood up when she saw me and picked up her bag. She wasn’t smiling, she seemed nervous, “You didn’t tell me not to come. I’ll leave if you want me to, like I promised.”

She had me so confused I didn’t know if I was glad to see her or not but I let her in and when I did she dropped her bag and headed directly for the cupboard, “Do you still have the wine I bought last weekend?”

The weekend was a repeate of the previous weekend: she cooked, did most of the talking, a little cleaning, she took me for a walk, to a bookstore, the market and wine store. And she fondled me and cleaned me and fondled me again as I pressed into her soft, hot body. I walked her to the bus stop on Sunday night, just as I had the previous Sunday but this time, when I returned home I found a book on my bed, a how to guide: how to have meaningful sex.

I didn’t go to work on Monday. I couldn’t face her. The book was quite clear about people like me: we are shameful, self-centred, selfish, inconsiderate … and the list went on. I re-read the book I had been up all night reading; re-reading the sections about bringing pleasure to the other — and how to do it. Then I went online: I had a lot to learn.

I stayed away from the cafeteria again all week, until Friday when I waited for her to finish her lunch and walk to the elevators. “Will you come this weekend,” I whispered to her from behind her back. When she turned and smiled I turned away.

She got on the bus before I did and I smiled at her as I passed her, the red bag on her lap and I walked behind her most of the way to my place, passing her only at the end so I could unlock the door. As usual, we didn’t speak until we got in my apartment and even then it took awhile because as soon as the door shut I grabbed her, awkwardly because she sure didn’t expect it, and I hugged her, pressing my body into hers as I pulled her body into mine and I felt my fear melt away in her heat.

And she was pulling at me, too and pushing her face into my chest so it was a little difficult to push her away, but I did and still not saying anything, I took her hand and walked her to my bedroom where I fell on the bed with her in my arms.

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

From My Journal – May 1986

“Ruth E. and I have been invited by the local television station to come down to the launch of a traveling exhibition being held in town. The exhibition is a celebration of a particular television program whose longevity and creativity have made it an icon around the world. We are invited inside the exhibition’s spacious and luxurious RV to wait for the guests of honor to arrive.

We make small talk and try to ignore the sexual tension in the room that always seems to pervade our time spent together. We each know that the other suspects what we do during our telephone “writing conference role play” and how we’ve become addicted to it, yet neither has the courage to admit it, and risk the friendship (and benefits) that we’ve both come to rely upon in the absence of any real relationship. For my part, I know that if given the chance, I’d sweep Ruth off her feet and show her exactly what she’s been missing through virtual sex.

Tired of waiting, we are about to exit the RV when the door opens. The exhibition coordinator, who I will call Mr. S, steps inside, followed by his boss and Peter, one of the previous stars of the show. Mr. S. introduces me to the pair and I tell Peter that Ruth is her biggest fan. He grins and she cringes and tries to shrink behind me. I bodily push her towards Peter and he gives her a big hug.

Ruth looks like she is about to faint. Knowing how much she is attracted to Peter and fantasized to me about him, I imagine she probably creamed herself as well. I can’t keep my mind off of that image. Ruth excuses herself and darts into the bathroom. We all chuckle. Everyone else figures she’s just freshening up and composing herself, but I know her better than that.

A few minutes later, the three gentlemen have left and I find myself all alone in the RV except for Ruth, who is still locked in the over-sized bathroom. I listen at the door and hear soft moans and rapid breathing inside. My cock pops up at the sound and I think that this may be my chance! I think about knocking but instead look around for an ink pen. I find one and quickly remove the top, extricating the ink cartridge and slipping it silently into the little hole in the center of the door handle. With a soft click I pop the lock.

In a fluid, quick motion, I swing the door open and watch as Ruth flinches backward on the closed toilet lid. She is completely naked, and her legs are spread wide and her dark brown pubic hair is slick and wet from her arousal. There is a small milky white puddle on the toilet lid, and her right hand is grinding against her clit while her index and middle fingers are buried deep inside of her wet pussy.

The air is heavy with the scent of her vaginal musk. She moans even as she realizes she’s been caught, looking terrified but so close to coming that she can’t stop herself. This is exactly what I’d always pictured her doing on the phone with me and longed to watch! Only the time for watching and waiting are over for me.

I smile, making a shushing sound and stepping closer, closing the door behind me and relocking it. My eyes never break contact with hers and I smile as she starts to whimper with pent up desire as she realizes that she and I are finally going to break the unbearable sexual tension that has plagued us for months. She remembers, as do I, all those long, long hours on the telephone play-acting with one another, fully aware that we were engaged in heated phone sex though too embarrassed to ever admit it. Now, she knows, we are going to get it on. Fuck. Screw one another’s brains out. Finally!

I kneel before her and watch as her legs part even more as she subconsciously grants me full access to her swollen vagina to do with as I please. The scent of her moist cleft kozyatağı escort has given me the most swollen erection I have ever experienced and I can feel it throbbing with an unbearable desire to plunge deep inside of her. She moans again as she feels my breath against her wetness.

I close my eyes and open my mouth to allow my firm tongue to flick quickly and electrically across her swollen clit. I listen to her moan deliciously as I slide my hot tongue into the folds of her pussy lips and into her wetness. To finally, after so long of dreaming of it, feel the walls of her pussy clinching around my darting tongue and to taste her sweet nectar is almost too much to bear without blowing my load in my pants.

I take one last plunge inside of her with my tongue then stand up, undoing my belt and dropping my pants to the floor around my ankles. One step, two step and I’m out of my pants altogether. My shirt comes off over my head. My near-bursting cock is fighting to escape my boxers and presses so hard against the cloth I think I can hear it ripping. Instead, it pokes through the flap and, like a guided heat seeking missile, aims it’s dripping head directly at Ruth’s mouth.

I move forward and press the rigid oozing red tip against Ruth’s lips and they part to allow my cock to slide inside. The feeling of her warm tongue as it curled around my shaft is indescribable. Immediately I begin to thrust against the velvet resistance of her tongue and mouth, feeling her soft lips wrapping around my member to form a perfect seal. I pace myself, pumping in and out, in and out as slowly as possible to prolong the inevitable.

In my mind I picture that moment ahead when my cock will erupt inside of her mouth and send all of my long-pent-up juices of desire cascading down into her throat in a torrent. At last Ruth will taste my cum, I think! Somehow I’ve become obsessed with the concept of my semen becoming a part of her as it’s slowly digested, the testosterone fueling her own wanton needfulness.

Sensing that I’m about to explode, Ruth opens her mouth and pulls back, grasping my shaft with both hands and massaging the saliva from her mouth into my tight skin. With one hand she reaches down to her crotch and allows the dripping river of her essence to coat it, then cups the sticky fluid in her palm. Slowly, teasingly, she lifts her cum-soaked hand to my cock and rubs her cunt-cream into my penis as a lubricant.

I know that I will erupt at any second! I only have time to twist my hips in order to aim my primed and ready to blow cock at her now fully open mouth. Ruth sticks out her tongue mischievously, begging with her eyes for me to explode against the glistening pinkness of it just as we’d fantasized illicitly with one another so many times before over the phone. The core of my being seems to burst into a nova-bright explosion of pleasure as my cum erupts in what feels like a never-ending ejaculation.

My aim, though deliberate, was off and streamers of white sticky semen coat Ruth’s flushed cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, her lips, her eyebrows, her hair… and still there is enough that landed on her tongue for her to savor as she closes her mouth in a huge smile, licking her lips contentedly. She loves the taste, the texture, as I always hoped she would. She’s going to want more, and often, and I will be the one to provide it to her!

Just then Ruth begins to convulse as she loses control over her orgasm and allows her pussy to spasm uncontrollably for what seems like minutes. I feel my feet become suddenly drenched as she ejaculates with such ferocity that I think for a moment she must have lost control over her bladder. However, one look at her goo coated face and the küçükyalı escort look of sheer ecstasy writhing upon it and I knew that she was releasing months of pent-up sexual energy as I had in one enormous and satisfying explosion of orgasmic bliss.

My energy to continue standing spent, I collapse onto my knees and allow my face to fall against Ruth’s sticky, dripping pussy. The essence of her sexual abandon instantly adheres against my flesh. I relish the sensation of rolling my face from side to side in her cunt cream in order for it to become as sticky with cum as her own face is. I look up into her twinkling eyes and can tell that she is already building up for another powerful orgasm. From our telephone sessions I know that Ruth is a multi-orgasmic nymphomaniac once started, and nearly impossible to satiate. But oh to try!

Though sexually drained, physically and physiologically, I’ve waited and dreamed for this day for such an agonizingly long time that I know I’ll continue to please her orally until I have regained my strength. I begin by slowly and deliberately using my tongue to lap up every drop of her heavenly juices from her pussy, sucking her still-swollen cunt lips into my mouth to clean them properly. Beads of her cum are glistening on the tips of her pubic curls, and I relish the deliberate care my lips and tongue give each and every one.

I begin to feel the temperature of her flesh heating once again as I press my cheeks against her sticky thighs. In my mind, I fantasize about pumping my next eager load deep inside of her cunt, grinding the tip of my cockhead against her cervix as if I could somehow burst through that tiny opening and empty my semen-laden balls directly into her womb.

Yet despite such visions, I continue my slow oral ministrations, listening as Ruth’s breathing becomes erratic once more. I can feel her muscles tensing and her thighs clamping unbidden against my head, trapping my face and nose and mouth against her pulsating pussy. I know what she has in store for me, as this was one of her fantasies, and I can feel my cock beginning to rise once more, untouched. I reach for it and began stroking the still tender flesh.

In a sudden flash of insight, I recall the end scenario for Ruth’s favorite phone fantasy… to ride her partners face to orgasm while they were helpless to escape the impending flood. I realize with mounting excitement that Ruth intends to hold my head against her crotch while she uses my nose like a mechanical dildo!

Ruth stands, and with her thighs clenched tight, I am compelled to move with her. She forces me to rise with her, then begins to press downward. My position is to be prostrated on the floor, laying on my back, with her astride me. Ruth’s pulsating sodden crotch grinds relentlessly against my face as she sits on it. My nose becomes quickly trapped inside of her cum-slickened slit and my entire world becomes her pussy. I have become her plaything!

My every tortured breath, squeezed out from the folds of her genital flesh, holds the essence of Ruth. Her scent is deep inside of my nose now, her juices filling my nostrils and making it impossible to inhale through them without sucking her cum into my sinuses. I can taste her and nothing else as her cuntal fluids trickled down the back of my throat. What a sensation this is, to taste a woman in this way!

Above me, I can hear Ruth moaning though her thighs cover my ears and clamp my head in place. I can sense her rapid heartbeat as it seems to pound all around me. I know that soon she will come again, and like before, she will open her orgasmic floodgates and unleash a torrent of hot, sticky juices against my nose and literally drown me. I have mutlu kent escort but one chance, and she knows it. I open my mouth and form a tight seal over her twitching vaginal canal, grinding my nose upward against her clit even as she works to grind her pubic bone into my skull.

With a sudden intake of air, Ruth E. begins to cum like I’d never thought possible. Her thighs are squeezing my head so tightly that I think surely my head will explode from the pressure. Her full weight is now bouncing up and down on my face as she rides me to the heights of her orgasm as if I were a human Symbian machine.

My last breath came a full forty five seconds earlier, and even then it was only a partial one. I begin to see sparkles as my brain reacts to the early stages of hypoxia. I imagine what it will be like to suffocate with the woman I love using my death to drive her to the ultimate pleasure. I wonder, does she know? More to the point, does she care? Would she sacrifice me for carnal bliss?

I pray that Ruth will begin to gush her ejaculate down my throat so that I might catch a quick gulp of air at the end. I prod her clit with my tongue to no effect. Does she realize I’m out of air? But Ruth’s orgasm is going to come on its own terms and not mine, I realize. Yet surely she must know I’m about to asphixiate for her pleasure… Unless her ultimate fantasy is to ride my face until I die, my now-engorged cock erupting at the moment of my extermination and giving her the ultimate satisfaction?

No! I thought and clamped my teeth down hard against her sensitive and swollen clit. The tender, soft flesh yielded and I tasted my lover’s blood as my incisors broke the skin. I feel Ruth react with an even harder grip on my head with her thighs. Her salty blood is flooding freely into my mouth now, and mixing with her pussy juices on my tongue. Despite feeling lightheaded from my lack of air, I realize that this is the last sensation of taste I will ever have. Yet I cannot ever remember tasting anything so utterly divine!

With only moments of consciousness left to me, and perhaps only scant moments beyond that of life, I begin to gnaw on her clit more seriously now, increasing the flow of blood and exciting Ruth still further. Pain, apparently, is something that she enjoys! I feel her spasm uncontrollably once, twice, then a third times before it finally happened.

Above me and around me, Ruth begins an orgasm so powerful, so intense, that her grip slackens just long enough for me to get in a gasp of sweet air. No sooner than I have drawn this lifesaving breath do I feel her pussy convulse like a seizure and the deluge begins – straight down my throat!

I swallow rapidly, trying to stay ahead of the flow, now worried I won’t die from suffocation but from drowning. Whether Ruth intends to fuck me to death or if she is just so far beyond reason in her ecstasy, I’d never know. Ruth’s juices cascade down my cheeks and I begin to sputter, engulfed in her ocean of sex.

I snap my teeth down on her clit once again, drawing still more blood, and she reacts like I’m poking her with an electric prod. Her legs release my head and I roll away, gasping for air as her pussy secretions dribbled from my mouth and nose. My face and lips are smeared with her clitoral blood, and I realize that I hadn’t even noticed that I’d blown my load in the process.

The evidence of this is dripping lazily from Ruth’s dark hair in gooey tendrils. Her face still carries a pearly sheen from my earlier ejaculation. The entire room smells like two hundred people had just had the wildest oral sex imaginable, and as I realize what has just occurred, I smile despite myself. We hadn’t even gotten past foreplay!

Looking into Ruth’s cum-be speckled face I see the most beatific expression forming. Her eyelids are heavy, her breathing shallow, and her limbs look lifeless, like limp noodles. My own cock is not in much better shape, I thought. Ruth, too exhausted to speak, as I was, collapsed against my chest. Her sticky, cum-slickened flesh pressed against my own mixed with her blood, exhausted and sighing with utter contentment.

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 didn’t know her first name. She had been Mrs. Zimmer to me for all of my 19 years, well, for most of them. I probably wasn’t even conscious of her until I was maybe 9, when I started my paper route. She lived with her husband three doors down. They had a daughter who was 2 or 3 years older then me. I didn’t really know her, she was just there a few times when I went around to collect.

Funny how you form impressions of people from just brief encounters. I always thought of Mrs. Zimmer as a particularly sad woman. I also thought of her as smart and aloof. To me, she seemed like someone who knew a lot, didn’t care to share what she knew and was somehow disappointed with her life and with those who entered it, me included. As a kid, I was always glad to collect my money and get out of there; she wasn’t someone I enjoyed being around.

Perhaps that’s why I was feeling a little awkward. Even though I hadn’t thrown a paper on her lawn in five years, she recognized me and said ‘hello’. After I responded with the same word we seemed to have exhausted all potential for conversation and we both turned away. Maybe our cheerlessness was understandable: we were both waiting to get our teeth drilled.

It surprised me. Surprised me a lot. You don’t expect to be thinking of a 45 year old woman when a guy in a mask is boring into your tooth. But I was thinking of her, her look of sadness more then anything. She seemed to be almost consumed by melancholy, lost in it, now, just like I remembered her during my paper route days. I don’t know why but as I sat there gagging on a rubber dike I wanted nothing more then to cheer her up, to make her laugh, to bring a little joy to her eyes, a smile to her lips.

I got my chance about an hour later. She saw me walking along the street, stopped her car and asked if I’d like a ride home. Actually, it came out more like “Would you wike a wide home,” and when I responded, with deliberate exaggeration, “I would wove a wide home,” she burst out laughing so when I settle into the seat next to her I felt our shared laugh and dental experience had somehow brought us together.

It wasn’t a long ride home but it was time enough for me to learn that her daughter was in 3rd year and thinking about going into law, following Mr. Zimmer’s profession, and that Mrs. Zimmer owned a florist shop, or maybe even a number of them, I didn’t quite get that straight. I wanted to get more out of her but she soon turned the turret on me and had me babbling about my future, as if I had any plans, as if I had the slightest idea how my future would unfold. When we turned onto our street I thanked her politely for the ride and, I don’t know why, perhaps because I meant it, but I added that I really enjoyed talking to her. I told her she made me feel really at ease. That’s when I heard her mutter, “That’s a first.”

It happens, doesn’t it? You haven’t seen someone in years and then you run into them twice in a matter of days. My second time with Mrs. Zimmer was in a coffee shop in the mall just three days later. I was sitting on a stool at one of those narrow, sweeping counters, looking at the wall when the person to my right got up and there she was, one stool away. “Hello again,” she said and I said, because I had been thinking of it for two days now, “May I ask you a question?”

She turned a little on her stool to face me, “Of course.” I could tell she was curious.

“Why did you say to me the other day, ‘That’s a first.” I could see that she didn’t understand so I clarified. “I thanked you for the ride home and said that you really put me at ease in the car. That’s when you said, ‘That’s a first.’ What did you mean?”

She laughed mirthlessly, “I’ve never been accused of making anyone feel comfortable.”

I fell silent with this, I didn’t really know what to say. And she was silent, too, she even turned away, but in a minute she turned back. “It was sweet of you to ask me about that. Thank you.”

“Do you know why I did?”

She held her coffee cup as if warming both hands and shook her head.

“Because it surprised me.” And I told her, I really don’t know why — it just came out, about my thoughts about her while I was in the dentist’s chair; how she always appeared to me to look so sad and how I wanted to cheer her up.

She smiled, wanly I thought. “You have cheered me up. Thank you.”

“Are you as sad as you look?”

She gave the same mirthless laugh, “Do I look that bad?”

“Not bad, but sad, as if you haven’t a friend in the world.”

We talked for two hours that afternoon, through three cups of coffee, most of the time across an empty stool but when a lady was about to sit in it I scooted over so we could continue our conversation. We talked about nothing really, and there was never a laugh or even a smile. But my hunch from three days before was right: I was comfortable talking to this woman and I told her so and asked her if we could get together again. She smiled at me. Sure, she said, I like to go for walks in the forest behind my house, maybe you could içerenköy escort join me sometime. I surprised myself when I leapt at the chance and pinned down a time to meet her the very next day.

That night in my bed I took her in my arms and tried to imagine her holding on to me, I tried to image the weight of the world falling from her shoulders, I tried to image a smile coming to her lips — and I tried to feel her heat, breathe in her smell. It shocked me, really shocked me because as I lay there with her, well, with the pillow in my arms, I got a hard-on, a hard-on thinking about a woman who was my mother’s age, maybe older. This may sound stupid but what attracted me to her, what I found sexy about her, wasn’t her body, it was her vulnerability, her sadness. I held the pillow tighter and tried to squeeze the sorrow right out of her.

It was half way through our walk the next day when I told her about my image of holding her, trying to squeeze away her misery. I didn’t plan to, it just came out. She looked up at me with eyes that were as sad as I’d ever seen, then she stepped towards me and hugged me, not a little, but a lot and she didn’t let go, she didn’t let go for the longest time, time enough for me to wrap my arms around her, to feel the heat beneath her thin sweater, to feel the slight tremble of her body.

She held on to me and cried for perhaps two minutes and when she stepped away her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet with tears; she smiled as she brushed them away, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” We walked back in silence.

When I held her again that night I had a little more to go on. I could feel her breasts pressing against me, I could feel her back and the outline of her bra strap and I could feel her heat — I could almost smell her heat. I held her for a few minutes then I carefully lay her down side me, spread my legs a little and gave my stiff prick three yanks and shot a load into my pajamas but even before my still-stiff dink rested on my belly I felt a jolt of guilt. I was getting sexual joy out of Mrs. Zimmer’s misery, how sick was that? And how sick was it for a kid not yet 20 to get off on a woman older then his mother?

I didn’t see her again for four days. Each night I was on the trail at 7, but she wasn’t, not until the forth day and when she spotted me her lips formed into the same joyless smile. “Hello again. Out for a stroll?”

“I’m waiting for you.”

We walked in silence and we didn’t stop when we passed the place where we had hugged but a little further on she sat down on a bench and I sat down beside her. She was leaning forward on her knees and she looked up at me curiously, “I don’t understand why you want to spend this time with me.”

“I don’t either, but I do.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why are you so sad?”

When she sat back on the bench I knew she was wrestling with whether to answer or not. She was quiet for a moment then her cheerless eyes narrowed in resignation, or was it desperation, I wasn’t sure. “Because after the better part of a lifetime, I have nothing.”

You have a husband, a daughter, a house, a car, a business and … she could see I was about to state the obvious so she headed me off. “You’re too young to know this but if you don’t engage in life, if you don’t commit yourself to life, if you don’t grab for all you can get from life, you can do the opposite. You can stand back and coolly watch life pass you by, pass you by like it was a movie directed by somebody else. That’s what I’ve done. The last half of my life has become a spectator sport to me. I’m never on the field, I’m always in the stands. Let me give you a tip, Bradley, do what the beer commercial said, ‘grab for all the gusto you can get.'”

I wasn’t listening to her advice, I was too surprised that she knew my name. She must have spent part of her miserable last few days trying to remember it. I don’t know why, but that excited me. But I didn’t really understand her, either. “Is it too late? I mean, if you know what your problem is, can’t you deal with it? Can’t you start grabbing at life now?”

“Can a middle age fan walk onto the field and play quarterback?”

“She can if she’s got a great blocking guard.” When I smiled at what I thought was a great and encouraging line, she laughed and took my hand and squeezed it and when she did, I squeezed her back and didn’t let her take her hand away but that got me nervous, I’ve never been so bold in my life, so I quickly asked, “Give me an example of … ah, your lack of engagement.”

Her eyes were somehow kinder now and she smiled at me a little and squeezed my fingers before pulling her hand from mine. “I love my daughter with all my heart. She doesn’t know that, she couldn’t know that because I’ve never been able to show her, to tell her. As a result, I’ve always played a bit part in her life and now, when I need her, she doesn’t need me.”

“But it isn’t too late …”

“I’ve had 25 years to show Susan how desperately I love kadıköy escort her. But I haven’t been able to. I don’t think I knew how.” She looked down at her feet and wrung her hands together. “I can’t very well pick up the phone now and tell her how much I care.” She got up, but instead of walking back, as I thought she would, she continued along the trail. This told me she wanted to talk some more so I asked another question. “What about your husband?”

“Don’t go there.” Her voice was cold and abrupt and I regretted the question immediately but then she surprised me, after a long hesitation she answered me. “We were in love once, really in love and I love to remember those days. It isn’t his fault things turned sour. It was me. I just pulled away, slowly at first, so slowly I didn’t even know what I was doing. I think we both became conscious of it at about the same time. That was a few years ago.” I could see she was thinking about this and then she laughed, that same empty laugh, “If a few years can be a decade or more.” She was quiet for a bit. “He’s a good guy, my husband, he always has been. Good husband, good father, good provider — if he had been a little less good, maybe I would have been a little more ….” She didn’t finish the statement, it just hung there. Then she summed up her feelings. “He diminished me. He didn’t mean to, but he did. He was just so damn good at everything, so together, he never really needed me. He’s an island, a rich, blossoming island but an island entirely unto himself. I’m a lot more of a mainlander. I’m a lot more needy. Susan is too.”

I could see the tears on her cheeks but I didn’t know what to do so I took her hand and stopped and when she stopped she turned and she seemed to collapse in my arms, as she had before, and she was trembling like before and I was holding on to her, but this time I wasn’t feeling her breasts and her heat, like the first time. This time I was pulling a Clinton, I was feeling her pain.

After a minute or so she tried to pull away but I held her and I put my hand lightly on her head and gently pushed her face into my neck. She was crying louder now and she was shaking so I held her tighter, encouraging her to cry and we stood like that for so long that her tears collected on my neck and trickled onto my collarbone.

She kissed me on the cheek when she let me go and then she used a sleeve to wipe away her tears. That’s when I said it. I have no idea why I did. Maybe I thought it was central to her problem. I was curious, too. “You don’t have sex with your husband, do you?”

When she started walking away it was back towards the house and her pace was quicker, a lot quicker. I had gone too far and I knew it. I had overstepped the boundary. I was deciding whether to slink away in shame when she stopped and turned around. “Not for ten years.”

“Why?” I was just a step in front of her now and it was easy to see the tears on her cheeks and the snot in her left nostril.

“It’s complicated,” she said, as she wiped her sleeve across her nose, but then she gave her empty laugh again, “No it’s not, it isn’t complicated at all. You don’t want to sleep with someone when you can’t sleep with yourself.”

When I took her in my arms she went willingly, and when I rubbed her back she pressed her face into my neck, but when I said the words — honest, I was just trying to be encouraging, I was just trying to get her to feel a little better about her self, but it was a stupid thing to say, a monumentally dumb thing to say and I knew it the very moment the words left my lips, “I’d love to sleep with you, Mrs. Zimmer.”

She seemed to slump in my arms as if defeated and when she let me go she turned and walked away and I knew enough to leave her alone.

She was waiting for me the next night, I knew this because I was a little late and she was on the trail, walking at a snail’s pace. We walked in silence to the bench but she didn’t sit down, she just stopped and turned to me. “I need you Bradley. You’re my last straw.”

I took a pace forward to hug her, to show her I cared, but she took a step backward. “Do you masturbate?”

“Of course,” I said, surprised at my honesty.

She wasn’t really looking at me when she said, “I don’t or I haven’t for years, but I did last night, I did it because for the first time for as long as I can remember I felt a little bit alive, I felt … well, I was going to say I felt wanted but …”

“You should.” I took her hands and she let me and I squeezed them. “I do want you, I want you to be happy, I said that the first day I saw you and I meant it, that’s all I’ve thought about, how can I make you happy.”

She turned and walked back towards the house but she kept her hand in mine, all the way to the beginning of the trail when she let it go. She didn’t stop and her words were barely audible, “Can you come with me?”

I followed her through her back yard, through the back door and up the four steps to her kitchen where she smiled at me kartal escort and we continued up the stairs to her bedroom. “My husband is away,” she said, more to the room then to me, then she turned. “You’ve been good for me, Bradley, more then you could possibly believe. No one has held me in years. No one has talked to me like you have. I haven’t let them. I needed you, Bradley,” she smiled sadly, “I need you.”

The room seemed to be whirling. The woman in front of me seemed now to be all tits and hips, she seemed soft and warm. I wanted to burrow into her, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, never even dreamed of feeling this way.

“Do you understand?”

“Understand?”

“I need you, Bradley, but I don’t want to use you. Do you understand?”

“You aren’t using me, Mrs. Zimmer. Honest. I want to be here.”

She closed the few paces between us slowly and she took my hand and when she kneeled on the bed, so did I and when she lay down, I did to, and then she pulled me into her with my head on her chest, just above her tits. “Can I hold you for awhile, just like this?”

I shifted my legs trying to ease my hard-on which was sticking into my pants like a poker and I pulled her body to me allowing one hand to rest on her upper back and the other on the lower. We lay like that for maybe ten minutes, maybe longer but time enough for me to collect my thoughts. Well, in truth I needed only a few seconds for that: for the first time in my life I was going to get laid, and I was going to get laid by a really sexy older woman. It was during the second or third minute, well, if truth be told, more like the seventh or eight minute when I started thinking, not about what I was just about to get, but about her, remembering her sadness, her vulnerability, her words, and it was at about the ninth minute when I had to admit to myself that this wasn’t about me at all, it was all about her, and then I knew that I would let her use me for whatever therapy she needed and I would do so willingly. I really liked this woman, I really wanted to help her, I really wanted to help lift her sadness, to put a smile on her face. It sounds stupid, I know, but that’s what I wanted. I’ve always been a pretty thoughtful guy.

“Have you gone to sleep?”

I laughed, “God, no.”

She stroked my hair. “I was thinking about guilt. About being here with a boy …”

“I’m almost 20, Mrs. Zimmer. A man.”

“… about being here with a young man, in my husband’s house, three doors from my daughter’s bedroom.” She paused and I had the sense to shut up. “I should feel guilt about this but I don’t, I don’t because I need you, Bradley, I desperately need you, I need you to coax some life out of these miserable bones. I think you’re the only one who can.”

I could feel her fingers in my hair and my hard-on against her leg but it was her helpless sorrow that really got to me. She seemed all but dead so I brought my hand, which had almost gone to sleep, from behind her back and I brought it up and lightly caressed her forehead and her cheek and I brushed at the side of her nose, then I brought two finger lightly along her lips, trying to detect a hint of a smile. But I got more. I got a soft moan and soft kisses on my finger tips and she shifted her legs, opening them a little and I could feel my hard-on pressing harder into the side of her leg. She could, too, because she moaned again and when she did I rolled on top of her and wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her like I had squeezed my pillow and then I rolled onto my back pulling her on top of me. My hard-on was poking into her now, about where I though her sex to be, then she rode up on me and squeezed my neck. “Don’t move,” she order, as she rolled off me and quickly pulled her dress over her head and then she was back on me, squeezing my neck again, but this time my face was on the bare skin of her upper chest and my lips were forced against the soft cloth of her bra.

When I pushed her away I did so gently and I was almost as quick as she was in taking off my clothes, but I took them all off and when I crawled back on top of her I could feel the erotic heat of her nylon slip against my throbbing prick, now soaked with pre-cum, and I could feel her face press into my neck and then I pushed her away again, this time more roughly and just in time to find my discarded underwear and I caught the cum from my squirting cock.

“Was it a good one?” she asked, as she pulled me to her.

“Oh, God, yes,” and I snuggled up to her and brought my right hand to her breast which I gently caressed, marveling at both its magnificence and my good fortune. But my fortune was about to get better. She extracted herself from me, sat up, pulled her slip off her shoulders, undid her bra and pulled her slip back up. Or, at least, I gathered that’s what she did for when she lay down again, I again snuggled in and as I felt for her breast there was a nipple there now, a large hard nipple and one that made her moan when I touched it.

“Are you smiling?” I was now wetly kissing through the slick fabric at her left nipple while I gently caressed her right. She kissed my hair and took my hand and moved it down towards her stomach and when my hand wandered onto her slightly rounded belly she began to purr, that’s the only word for it, she purred like a cat and her hand landed on top of mine and gently encouraged me to go lower.

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 love my body and, as the years pass and pass, I find my self always impressed with it’s growth. I am bit thin but definitely bulked up. I have some nice facial hair growing and my other hair is looking pretty good.

I was admiring myself through a mirror in a bathroom at the Barstow County Train Station when I went into an old stall and reminisced on past memories.

***

It was a long day of traveling and I was sick and tired of hearing my cousins argue. My grandma was on the phone and I was left to deal with them. We had planned out our yearly summer trip to go out and visit the national parks. I realized that I am a bit too grown up now for all of this kid stuff. I was almost done being one, 3 more months and I’d be 20.

We had taken numerous trains and ended up stuck in Barstow for a few hours. With nothing left to do, I got up and went inside the small station. I went into the bathroom and pretended to pee. As I looked to my left, I saw a man in a train uniform (about 25 years old) looking my way. Was this working man checking me out? Hmmm, I zipped up and went into a stall and acted like I was blowing my nose. I noticed that their were only two toilet stalls in that very large bathroom.

One for the handicapped and the one that I was in; the smaller normal looking one.

Next thing I knew, I actually had to take a dump.

Being that I was already in the stall, I cleaned up the seat and sat down. When I was just about through, I noticed that underneath the toilet paper rack was a large gapping square hole. The metal wall between the two stalls had a hole right in the middle of it! I leaned down, and took a peek… WOAH, i could see right through the whole and into the other stall!

There was an older man (mid-thirties) in there with his legs spread wide apart, hovering above the toilet seat. I couldn’t believe what I saw: I could see the mans junk hanging low between his legs! I admired his hairy ball-sack and what I could see of the tip of his cut penis head. This was enough for me. I got up and flushed the toilet and went back to my family.

They had rarely even noticed my absence. I sat there with them and ate some chips, doing the ‘i’m too cool for this’ teenager thing. We played some travel scrabble and watched an episode of CSI on our laptop.

YAWWWWWNNN, I was bored.

As I scanned the area, I could see that many others were bored and restless because of this train delay. Then something amazing happened. The guy who I swear was checking me out was near the vending machine looking at me. I squinted to see his facial expression and saw that he winked at me and walked back into the bathroom all-the-while looking sancaktepe escort at me. What was this guy thinking? I’m bearly legal and I am certain that I am not gay. I mean, I DO have a girlfriend but we never went that far sexually.. I followed my instincts and went in after the guy.

As I walked into the sterile-lit bathroom I could only see one thing: A pair of shoes that led to the legs of the mystery man. He was the only person in the bathroom and sitting dropped-trow in the front normal sized stall. I quickly went into the handicapped one and did the same. With my pants down to my ankles and a hard-on beginning to rise, I took a glance through the ‘looking glass’.

My word he was heavily endowed. His balls were trimmed but his long cut penis hung between his legs like a third leg. I immediately felt embarrassed of my size.

I was nearly six inches and this guy looked like a ruler, maybe even longer! I started to stoke my member and was lost into the moment.

The next moments seemed almost to be a dream.. As I stroked and played with my cock, I had realized that I completely forgot to lock the stall door and the mystery man was standing there staring at me! I quickly got up and stammered.

Mystery Man: “Please don’t be alarmed, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He lock the door behind him and there I was standing in the far corner of a bathroom with a shrinking hard-on and a good looking man closing in on me.

Mystery Man: “You have a nice penis. You know I always wanted to be uncut, too bad I didn’t have a say in it.”

Me: “Uhh, thanks I guess, I’d rather a long cut penis than a small uncut one anyday” I replied.

Mystery Man: “You’re cock isn’t small at all, Its at least a good seven inches.. Not to mention that your extra forskin gives it some sexy allure.”

I began to grow impatient.

Me: “What do you want from me?”

Mystery Man: “Well, I saw you eyeing other men earlier and I wondered if you were curious..”

I grew confused, what were his motives? I tried to get myself out of it.

Me: “I have a girlfriend you know..”

Mystery Man: “So? What she doesn’t know, wont hurt her. Besides, expirementing with a stranger isn’t a bad thing at all. You have no emotional ties and if you don’t like it, it’s not like you have to go and tell anyone. No one will know besides yourself.”

The man had a point. I have never tried anthing with another man and I was a bit curious. He walked closer to me and kissed me.

Me: “I don’t even know your name.”

Mystery Man: “It’s Alexander but does it really matter?”

Next thing ümraniye escort I knew he had dropped to his knees and started sucking me off. Wow it felt amazing! Never had I felt the distinct feeling and texture of a man’s lips around my cock. Girls are always so gentle and weak when it came to oral sex. But no, a man’s touch was a rough but safe feeling that made my balls boil.

Mystery Man: “Do you like it?”

All I could do was mumble in ectasy.

Mystery Man: “Do you want more?”

I belted out a yes at the top of my lungs.

Mystery Man: “Well if you want this to continue you’re going to have to keep it quiet.”

I silenced myself and he nodded in agreement. Since his pants were already down, he stopped and began spitting in his hand and rubbing his bumhole. His ruler-esque member began to escalate but I wasn’t too concerned for any of that. I was more concerned and curious for what was to come. He sat me down on the toilet (generously closing the lid to provide me a solid surface) and pushed me back to sitting in a postion where my body was at a 90 degree angle with my cock sticking straight out. I assumed that he would go back to sucking me out but this time he did something different. He used the safety rails from the handicap stalls sides to hold him self up and slowly slide my dick up his asshole. I gasped with both pain from the tightness and joy from the good feeling that was made due to the sliding of my forskin inside his bum. He slid up and down my cock and I could see sweat bead appearing from the top of his neck to his lower back ass region.

I figured that we couldn’t keep it up for long. I reach my hand around him and felt his cock for the first time. If was much more rough than mine but still very smooth and enjoyable to play with. I jerked him off because I figured it’s the least I could do after all that he’s done so far for me. As his slamming down on me became too overwhelming I yelped to him in a quieter voice that I was about to cum. He continued to ride me and I went off to the races. One… two… five… seven squirt of my man hood shot right up his anus before it began to ooze out of his ass and onto my pubes.

When he noticed that this was happening he slid me out of him and went back to his knees. He licked me clean of all my juices and lay resting there relaxed but with a still raging erection.

Me: “Erm.. do you want me to help you with that? I mean.. all that you just did for me, I should be able to help out.”

Mystery Man: “You can suck me on one condition: I blow my load in your mouth but you have to save it and kiss me. Transfering all tuzla escort of my knut into my own mouth.”

Me: “Why would you want to indirectly swallow your own load? Doesn’t it taste too salty?”

Mystery Man: “No, my semen is rather sweet, I taste it myself and can say it is more sweet than salt cause I eat alot fruit. It sweetens out the saltyness. But anyway, are you down with the deal or what?”

I nodded and he walked toward me with the his dick in his hand. I was still sitting on the toilet seat when he positioned his member to my mouth. He was tall enough so that I didn’t have to lean up or down. His penis was right at level with my face. Without further hesitation, he shoved his dick in my mouth and began pumping. I could not believe what was happening. This random man had his dick in my mouth and I was taking it.

I thought about my girlfriend and her tight love tunnel. Her nice amber golden pubes and the smell of her nice long hair. Oh how I loved her.

I remember snapping out of my girlfriend fantasy when I realized that this man was cumming in my mouth. I was surprised to find that he didn’t shoot much of a load. It was maybe a few squirts and that was it. But he didn’t lie: his sweet seed was in my mouth and I held it there tasting it until we made out and transfered his juices. He gulped it all down and made out with me a little more. He cleaned up and left with out saying another word.

***

I brought myself out of my remembrance and looked down at the old hole. It had been sealed up with a metal plate and repaired good as new. A little part of me died that day, I just sat there with my pants down admiring my older grown body. My dick had grew about an inch, I had grown out my pubes and my entire package had looked a bit more aged and presentable. I decided to show my self a good time for the sake of my old memories.

I lightly stroked my member until its nice curve was up and ready. My penis had actually began to feel like the roughness of the mystery man from the previous year. Wow i enjoyed jerking off. I had always loved exposing myself in public and doing sexual acts in public because it was much more exciting. The thrill of possibly getting caught really turned me on.

I spit on my hand and started going at it. My personal lubrication was hardly doing the trick. I started backhand fapping and it felt as if someone else was doing it for me.

I pictured the mystery man, remembering the time when he sucked me and fucked me. My knuts were so hard it became unbearable. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath but the moment I had stopped, it was too late.

My cock had a mind of its own and it began spewing my seed everywhere. I was rather surprised that it could do it all on its own but I didn’t bother fretting. My cum was all over my pubes, dick, abs, and even in my belly button. I had become vegetarian after the first trip and had noticed that without meat, my knut was less salty. I found myself licking up my mess and lying there in a state of satisfied defeat.

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

After our brisk morning walk around the gardens, we went back to our room. We were certain the chambermaid would be there, and that she would have had the time to pick through the carefully strewn clothing and jewelry we had left lying about. After all, Ems and I rehearsed this often enough.

As expected, the door to our room was closed. Ems grinned at me. We knew it was hotel policy for maids to leave the door open when they cleaned the guest rooms, so it meant either of two things: That the maid had already cleaned up the room, which was highly unlikely, given how quickly we’d returned; or that she had discovered something worth taking a second look at, and didn’t want anyone walking in on her.

Quietly, we opened the door and stepped inside. The living area was empty and clean, and we could hear movement within the bedroom. Ems was the quicker, and she drew the doors open with dramatic flourish. I dallied behind, not wanting to make my presence known to the person in our bedroom.

I heard her exclaim, and Emily, demonstrating her practised cool, saying sharply: “And what do you think you are you doing, young lady?”

“Why, I was just cleaning up in here.” I heard the insolence in the maid’s voice and took that as my cue.

“What is going on in here, Ems?” I said loudly as I strode into our bedroom, not pausing even as I noted the naked back of the girl who was facing away from me. She was looking defiantly at Emily, so she had not noticed my presence until I announced myself.

She gave a start, turned and saw me, and turned pale. She was very fair, and her features were delicate — her eyes large, her nose sharp and turned up at the very tip. As I’d walked in, I noted that her back was smooth and unmarked, which was rather unusual for a young woman employed as a chambermaid. I smiled, knowing we had come upon our intended prey.

“Isn’t that your dress, Ems?” I enquired, maintaining a stern demeanor and tone. “What is this girl doing wearing the dress I bought you yesterday?”

“She was wearing it when I came in, darling,” was Ems’ reply. “I had no idea…”

“Take it off!” I roared, startling the girl once more. “Take it off right now!”

“B… but…” she stammered. “Please, sir, I…”

“I said take it OFF!”

“No! I’m not… wearing…”

“Ems, is this how you repay my kindness… by giving away my gifts to some pitiful servant?” I said sarcastically. Ems grinned at me because the girl’s attention was fully on me, and she could not see what Ems was doing. Which was how Emily managed to take her completely by surprise, pulling the dress off her shoulders so it fell to the floor at the girl’s feet.

It took her a moment to realize what had happened… then the girl screamed in shock. She was completely naked under Ems’ dress, which was a nice surprise. Her breasts weren’t as sumptuous as Ems’, and her figure was more girlish than womanly, but it was sufficiently feminine to evoke a reaction in my pants. Her pubic hair was sparse, and as red as the hair on her head… though not as red as her face was at the sudden revelation of her body.

“You..! How dare…” she sputtered, her hands rising quickly to her chest and pubic area in a vain attempt to preserve her modesty. I leered at her to let her know I’d seen her bodily secrets and didn’t let her finish. Her indignation would give her courage, and we needed to keep her off-balance.

“How dare we? We walk into our room to find the maid wearing a dress I’d bought as as gift to my wife, and you ask how dare we..? I daresay we ought to be asking YOU, how dare you!”

She shushed up right away, her eyes still defiant, but now tinged with wariness. She knew she was standing on very shaky ground right now.

“Ems, we’d better get the manager in here right now,” I said, looking at my partner-in-crime. “Tell him we’ve got a naked little thief in our room.”

“No! No, please,” the girl pleaded. “You can’t…”

“Oh yes we can, young lady!” I said triumphantly. “Ems, if you’ll please…”

“You don’t know who my mother is!” the girl blurted out, her eyes looking wildly about. She couldn’t bring herself to look into my eyes, which suggested she was panicking, thinking of what she could do to get herself out of this predicament. “Mother… she’ll…”

“Tell you what, dearie, I’ll call in the police as well, and we’ll see just what it is your mother will do,” I smirked at her. “I’m sure the police will get here rather quickly, and you won’t have any problem explaining your side to them in your current state.”

“I… you… you bastard!” she exclaimed.

“Now, shall I take it then that you would like to give your statement to the manager and the police officer? I’m sure your mother will be most concerned about how her daughter is in such a state, and under arrest to boot.”

I waved my hand in her general direction, and saw her shoulders droop in defeat. Good. She knew there was no getting out of this. Her hands remained firmly in place, though, üsküdar escort and her knuckles were white with strain. Next step.

“OK, Ems, will you call the manager in right now?”

“NO! Please. I mean, he’s a creep and I… I don’t want him to know…”

“You should’ve thought of that before you came in here and put on my dress,” Emily said, as she picked up the handset of the phone. “I wonder what we’ll find in the pockets of your uniform.”

“No. No, please,” she begged, her eyes moistening, her voice turning into a whine. If she was pretending remorse, the girl was a pretty good actress. “Please don’t.”

“Well, something has to be done about this,” I said firmly, remembering what the manager, Mr. S. had had to say about this little scamp. A real handful, he said. She uses her wiles to get her way — flirts when she has to, then making accusations of improper conduct. She was such a poor worker and so quick to help herself with the guests’ belongings that he would have fired her, if not for her mother. No one crossed her for the sake of her mother, and the girl knew it and took full advantage of it. Mr. S. would most certainly have been pleased to find her in this state. “We can’t just let it rest like this.”

“I… ummm… I could make it worth your while,” she suddenly changed her tune, her eyelashes fluttering coquettishly. Or so she hoped. I’d seen enough women to know when it was a put on, and this was definitely a put-on. Besides, her hands remained firmly clasped across her breasts and on her groin, so I knew she wasn’t about to offer her body. She was only playing for time while she thought of a way out.

“And how do you propose to do that?” I said to her, making sure my leer was obvious. “What do you have to offer?”

“I could… I could bring you champagne and stuff for free,” she said, her eyes darting about my face nervously, her hands clutching even more tightly at her body. “If you would kindly let me dress…”

“Do you hear that, Ems? She can bring us stuff FOR FREE!” I guffawed, startling the girl once more. “Wow, what a treat!”

“In case you don’t realize, young lady, that dress you were wearing cost more than you would earn in two years,” I glared at the girl. “What I have is money. I have no need for any “free stuff” from you!”

She shut up and cast her eyes downwards, biting her lower lip. The girl appeared to be struggling with her own thoughts and unable to come up with a response.

I decided to press my advantage, adopting a gentler, but still sarcastic tone: “Generous as that offer may be, I’m afraid I have to decline. I have no need of free stuff. Especially not if it happens to be “free” because it has been retrieved from someone else.”

She looked up at me, shock showing in her face. Perhaps she was surprised we had cottoned on to her dirty little habit?

“I suppose we shall have to revert to our original plan. Ems? If you’d please..?”

“No, wait,” she pleaded, her eyes betraying her desperation. “I can’t… please spare me.”

“My dear young lady,” I put on my best lecturing voice. “It’s obvious to me that this is not the first time you’ve done something like this. It would be very remiss of us to not report you for your crime, because you would only continue with your merry jaunts into this fine hotel’s guestrooms. No, something must definitely be done about this. Ems?”

“NO. Please, sir, allow me to make amends for my error,” she begged once more. “I… I said I would make it worth your while. And I will. If you will ask your lady to leave the room, I will…”

“Ah, my dear, there is one thing you must understand. There are no secrets between my lady and myself. Whatever it is you wish to propose, you will propose in front of her.”

I smiled at her grimace. I wasn’t sure what it was she was planning, but I presumed she intended to keep it private so that it would become a matter of just my word against hers. Keeping Emily in the same room ensured she had to deal with two people, not just one.

“Well? What is it you wish to propose?” I smirked again. We were very much in control of the situation.

“I’m sure you would prefer if we were alone…”

“Not at all. You can be sure I very much prefer that Emily is here to bear witness.”

“But… but I… uh…” she stammered, unsure of what to do next.

“If you have nothing more to say, then I presume we are done speaking and we should proceed with notifying the relevant authorities of your misdeeds. Ems?” I insisted, pushing her to commit to her only remaining route.

“NO. No, please,” she pleaded once more, trying to draw an iota of sympathy from me with her piteous whine. “I… I’ll do this…”

At that, she dropped her hands from her body, exposing her fright-hardened pink nipples and the cute little tuft of flame-colored pubic hair down below. Her hands fluttered like helpless butterflies, but remained at her sides. Her eyes şerifali escort remained fixed on the floor, her breathing harsh and loud in the silence of the room. She was either scared or excited. Or both. The reddish hue on her face deepened as it spread to her shoulders and the tops of her breasts.

“That’s nice, my dear,” I said appreciatively. I meant it too. She did have a nice body, although Emily was by far a better specimen of womanhood. “Very nice indeed.”

She turned in a slow pirouette, keeping her eyes downcast, but giving me a good view of her entire body, front and back. She had a nice ass, round and perky, which bounced as she moved. But then I’d already evinced that fact from the quick look I’d had when I first walked into the room.

When she faced me once more, I noticed that her breasts were rising and falling at a faster rate than before. Interesting. Her very first time naked in front of a man, and she was actually excited. I wondered if her mother had lied about her daughter’s virginal ways, but rejected the notion right away. There was no way Madame L. would have allowed her daughter to set a foot wrong. Not if she wanted to maintain her pristine image in the community. No, any daughter of Madame L.’s would have to be as much a paragon of virtue as she was. Or rather, appeared to be.

I smiled, noticing that her hands were not fluttering anymore. In fact, they were held determinedly at her sides, as if she was proud to show off her maiden wares. Her eyes met mine. She looked defiant once more, almost as if she was challenging me to keep looking at her. I allowed my eyes to drop, linger at her breasts, then slide down lower, towards the barely covered mound with its lovely pink slit.

I kept my eyes trained on her sex, noting her slight trembling, and smiled. “That is certainly a delightful sight, my dear,” I said appreciatively.

My continued observation of her nude body, and particularly, her uncovered slit, seemed to unnerve her. She fidgeted a little, then made her move towards her clothes.

“Now that you’ve seen all, I shall…”

“Not quite,” I replied quite firmly, stopping her in her tracks. “I said it was nice, I didn’t say it was sufficient.”

“Why you…” she started, glaring angrily at me. Clearly, she thought she had made amends. I had to ensure she realized how wrong she was.

“Before you continue, I think you should have a look at Ems over there,” I gesticulated towards Emily. The girl had apparently not noticed the rustle of Em’s dress as it settled on the floor, but she certainly did notice Em’s nude body. Her mouth fell open.

“You may think you’ve given me a once-in-a-lifetime thrill, young lady, but as you can see from Emily over there, I’ve seen better.”

“But I… no one’s ever seen me like that before!” her petulance knew no bounds. “You’ve taken advantage of me, you bastard.”

“Not at all,” I said evenly, smiling as I looked into her eyes to show I meant what I said. “There are two people here who can testify to how you sneaked into our room and tried to make off with my lady’s new dress. And only one who will say otherwise. Now, who do you think the police and manager will believe? My wife and I, or a little chambermaid with sticky fingers?”

“I can… I can say you were both… you took advantage of me!” she was determined not to give in, even as her desperation raised the tone of her voice.

“Yes, well, let’s just call the manager and the police and let them decide. Ems?”

Her head dropped, her eyes cast onto the floor as her bluff was called. She clearly had no cards left to play. And I hadn’t even pulled out my trump card yet.

“As I was saying, you can see that your exposing yourself to me hardly qualifies as ‘making it worth my while’. Not when I’ve got a far better eyeful every night with Emily.”

“But… this is my first…” she stammered, unsure of how she should continue.

“Young lady, it doesn’t matter to me whether you’ve shown yourself to a hundred men, or if you’ve been cloistered away for the last 18 years. You did promise that you would make it worth our while, but thus far, I’ve not seen anything worth my while. Yet.”

I let slip that I knew her age before I could stop myself, but thankfully, she did not seem to notice.

The girl turned to face me again, fiery defiance in her eyes. She did look a lot like her mother did when she was railing against immorality and obscene behavior. “So… what would I have to do, for it to be worth your while?”

“What is your name, girl?” I pretended ignorance.

“I… Phyllis,” she replied, her gaze not leaving my face. I kept my own eyes on hers, making her flinch even more than when she thought I had been perusing her naked body. “What do you wish, sir?”

Emily answered her question from the bed, to which she had moved while the girl turned her attention to me. “We’d like you to make a mess of this bed.”

“What?” she turned around to look at Ems, who was lying with her legs spread on the bed. “What do you..?”

I could observe Phyllis’ expression in the mirror on the wall next to the bed, and almost burst out laughing at the look on her face as her eyes alighted on Ems’ delightfully plump and denuded vulva, now gaping a little and inviting further investigation. Damn it, Ems was always able to get a rise out of me. My cock felt constrained in my pants, and I longed to take it out.

“She said, you should make a mess of the bed,” I said helpfully, suppressing my laughter. She really did look quite comical, with her eyes and mouth wide open like that.

“You mean you want… No. Sir, I am sure you would prefer…”

“I am certain I would prefer if you help my lady out, over there. Yes, I do mean you should put your face down on my Emily’s pussy over there and lick it till it becomes messy.”

Her eyes widened even more. She turned and looked pleadingly at me.

“But I can’t. I’ve never…” she was shaking her head even as I nodded mine.

“There’s always a first time for everything. Besides, how would you know you wouldn’t like it if you haven’t ever done it?”

“But… it’s wrong! I can’t… maybe I can clean your room. Naked,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. She was truly desperate now. “You can both look at me all you want. You can… you can even touch me… all over…” she shivered, and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

“I repeat — I have that. I look at that every night. And I touch that every day,” I said, gesturing at Ems’ naked form. “I’ll grant that you are different from Ems, but I have no desire to experience anything less than what I already get regularly.”

I felt bad speaking that way, especially in front of Ems, who had assured me she had no issues with being referred to as an object to be used by men… but whose feelings still mattered enough to me to not want to show such disrespect. But it was all part of the game we were playing, and we knew we wouldn’t achieve our objective if I played nice.

“I don’t know… what do I..?” she said hesitantly.

“Simple. Like we said, make a mess of the bed. Start by going over to Ems,” I instructed her, and she looked at me beseechingly once more. I returned her look with a determined stare and she knew she was beaten. She would have no other way to get out of this, other than to comply with our commands.

Silently, she turned to face Ems on the bed. I observed her expression as she walked slowly to the edge of the bed, stopping in front of Emily’s spread legs. Her eyes were fixed on Ems’ exposed privates, her face colored red. She was both embarrassed and excited — I could see from the rise and fall of her breasts that her rate of breathing was speeding up again — and probably embarrassed again by her excitement. Her nipples had shrunk to tiny little pink knots on her chest.

“Now, be a good girl, get down on your hands and knees and start licking,” I said, and Phyllis’ head whipped around.

“What? I… I can’t. I’ve… I think I should…” she protested, turning around and trying to move past me, away from her prescribed punishment.

“Oh no you don’t!” I grabbed her shoulders — but not too hard, so there wouldn’t be any marks on her skin. “You’re staying here like this.”

Speaking over her head, I directed my next comment at Emily. “Ems, it appears that our Phyllis would rather that we report her to the manager and police. If you’ll get dressed while I hold her here so we can tell them how we came upon her in our room…”

“No! Please. I beg you, kind sir. I can’t… I mean, I won’t…”

“Ah, therein lies our little problem, Phyllis,” I said, my hands firm on her shoulders. I made sure there was no other contact between us even though she was close enough for me to touch her naked body. “You won’t. In spite of your promise to make it worth our while, you won’t. You leave us with no choice.”

“But… but I’m… she’s a woman… we can’t…” she protested. She wasn’t really struggling in my grip, partly because I kept my eyes locked on hers, staring down her resistance.

“Oh? Perhaps I ought to explain, my dear Phyllis. On every woman is a little magic switch,” I smiled at her protest. “I’m sure you would have found your own… or at least had some experience of how that switch works.”

She turned a deeper shade of red, and turned her head away, perhaps to hide her embarrassed acknowledgment of my suggestion. I paused, waiting for her to collect her thoughts, and noticed that she was staring at Ems’ puffy lips again, her eyes locked on the mysterious split of her groin.

When she turned to look at me again, her eyes were bright with lust. “How did you know I..? Ummm. Does it show on my… on me?”

“Oh no, not at all, my dear,” I replied. “I just expected that a pretty young woman who is as… matured as you are, would have naturally found out how her body works.”

She said nothing, her attention back on Emily. Or rather, on Emily’s finger, which was sliding into the slippery groove of her cunt. Her finger gleamed wetly as it appeared, then disappeared back into her luscious cleft.

“Oh my…” she breathed, and I caught the note of excitement in the girl’s voice.

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 wrote this just after the Winter Olympics one year. It is an unfinished tale, and probably always will be. Some will complain it ends just as the sauna starts steaming. But after Tara gives in, it just doesn’t give me that itch anymore. Without the itch, my mind doesn’t play and my fingers just won’t frigg the keyboard any longer.

*****

Tara’s leg quaked as she came down on it, hard. Ice rasped. She wobbled as she shot across its surface. She twisted, trying to correct the direction of her momentum. Tara whipped her other leg around and sprang; forcing her body into a flying spinning twist.

A double lux, a missed landing and Tara was sliding across the ice on her rump.

“No, no, no, no!” Herbert Von Glotcha cried, walking across the ice to Tara. “Leg too straight! Relax, flex, fly!”

“Yah,” Tara sighed, climbing to her feet. “Relax, fly.” She rubbed her bruised posterior. “Great!”

“You no fly, you no win.”

Her stomach lurched. A sick fluttering feeling churned within, deepening, just as it had every day since she’d arrived at the Olympics.

“Try again!”

“Relax,” Tara muttered, fluttering her hands as though she was trying to shake water from them. She pushed off around the rink in a slow elegant backwards slide that gathered speed quickly. Her hair whipped about her face. Her skating skirt rippled in her wake, riding up and flashing her ass. She gathered herself and leapt.

Tara spun through the air, a miniature cyclone of grace and beauty. She came down. Her blade sliced into the ice. Her knee buckled. Her rump protested its second unforgiving landing and the subsequent ice burn as she spun across the rink.

“Eek!” she yelped. Her cry was immediately followed by a solid whump. Frustrated, she kicked the offending wall.

“Relax! I told you relax!” Herbert bellowed, striding over to the tangled mess of arms and legs.

“I tried,” she whined.

“You no so nervous at nationals?”

“That was nationals,” she said, clambering gracelessly back to her feet. Despite her skill, she wobbled a little. Her posterior burned. “Nationals were never my dream, just a, a, a stepping stone. This! This is the Olympics!”

“Oh, so you get here and then break down. Just like a soloshtovic! A, a, Ugo.” He frowned, thinking a moment. “This no good. No point. Just get hurt.” He wagged a gnarled finger at her. “You go shower. Get a massage. Get a drink. Get shloppy. Get relaxed! Be back tomorrow. Be better!”

Tara sighed and kicked off for the lockers.

She sighed again. This time a much longer, drawn out and almost contented groan as a few minutes later hot water sluiced off tired battered muscles. Her face tilted into the waterfall of wet heat washing over her.

She arched her back and ran her fingers through her long mahogany hair. Her hands trailed down her backside to come to a rest upon her rump. She massaged her cheeks working bruises and tension from her flesh.

Her thoughts drifted to that last night in Boston. She and Jason had come so close. He’d climbed in the shower with her. He’d touched her. He’d massaged her. She’d almost let him. Just thinking of that made her toes curl. She sobbed her longing.

“That looks good. You thinkin’ about a Jason?”

“Sarah!” Tara cried. “Ouch” She rubbed her head where it’d banged the showerhead when she’d jumped. A deep red blush surged across her skin.

“You were! Weren’t you!” Sarah laughed.

“Nooo,” Tara said, slamming off the shower and reaching for her towel. It did no good. Her blush crawled up her neck and across her cheeks.

“Yes, yes you were,” Sarah chided, stepping aside. Tara hurried for her locker and cloths.

“Okay, so I was,” Tara said, sticking out her tongue. “What of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you should have brought him. It might have been fuuun.”

“We’re saving ourselves for after the wedding. He’s Catholic.”

“OOOhhh, like you’re not a virgin too.”

“Yah so, what of it? At least I don’t throw myself at every cute boy that looks my way!”

“Hey, why so touchy? Afraid of what you might be missing?”

“Nooo!”

“Yeeeesss!”

“This is childish,” Tara groused, wrestling herself into a pair of jeans.

Sarah stuck out her tongue and then strutted away, wiggling her ass like a street walker.

“Hey, Tara,” she called from the locker room door. “The girls and I are going over to that disco bar tonight, you know, the one with the unpronounceable name. You ought to come, might pick you up a Russian stud.”

Tara opened her mouth to respond but Sarah had already ducked out of the room. She grimaced, tugged her bra over her rather small breasts and slid into a slip. She shrugged into sweater, grappled her bag into the locker and shouldered it shut.

After leaving the locker-room Tara wandered the Olympic complex for a time. There were more than a few little booths and shops hawking souvenirs.

Tara ended up buying a Sochi Olympic hockey puck she thought Jason might like and then headed back to the barracks; as the içerenköy escort American Team tended to call the athlete’s hotel. She veered off, just before arriving and went to her parent’s rental instead.

Her coach, and some cute boy she’d never seen before, was in the little house’s living room when she arrived.

“Come, come in,” Tara’s father said, meeting her at the door and giving her a hug. “It’s good to see you. Herbert’s here.”

“Yah, I can see that,” she said, slipping past her dad and throwing her coat over the back of a chair. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Who, him,” her father almost stuttered. He wrung his hands and took a hurried seat across from her. Tara couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him so nervous. “Elroy, its Elroy, right?” He looked questionably at the young man.

Elroy stood.

“Hi, you must be Tara, he said, “Pleased to meet you.” His English was fluid, and only slightly accented. Tara liked the way his muscles moved under his shirt as he stood. She stared, and felt a little weak kneed. He was blond and blue eyed. He looked perfect.

In fact, she thought he looked a little like Captain Kirk from Jason’s favorite movie; Star Trek into Darkness, or something like that. Only when she felt the warmth of his hand taking hers in a firm, but by no means painful, handshake was she able to tear her eyes away from his biceps and chest.

Her gaze met his. She blushed. He smiled. It was a warm, gorgeous, completely delightful curve of the lips. Tara felt a little rush.

“Hi, yeah, Tara, that’s me,” she said, rather lamely.

“Herb and I have been talkin’,” her father interrupted, still wringing his hands. Elroy and Tara sat. “We think, we think …”

“You need to relax,” her coach interjected. “You want win Olympics. You relax. Elroy relax you.”

“Elroy’s a …” her father tried to say.

“A sensual masseuses,” Elroy supplied.

“Yeah, that,” her father said.

Tara’s mouth fell open. A hot red flush crawled across her skin.

“You? He? You want me? Us?”

“Darling,” her dad said, taking a huge breath. “You’ve wanted the Olympics since almost before you could walk. We’ve, you’ve sacrificed so much! And you’re here, but you’re falling apart, everyone can see that. You need something to take your mind off the games.”

“And this is you solution?” she nearly screamed. She was completely out of her seat, her fists clenched and her entire body trembling. She couldn’t believe her ears. She was engaged. She was a virgin. Her wedding was less than six weeks away and her dad wanted her to, to, to rut with some stranger? “What does mom think?”

“Mom thinks you need to relax.”

“You mean she knows! Why isn’t she here?” “She’s out shopping.”

“You mean she’s avoiding me! She’s avoiding this! I can’t believe you and she want me to, to have,” she couldn’t bring herself to say sex. “To be with this man.”

“You want to win,” her father said.

“You no like? There are other men,” her coach said right over the top of her father’s lame words.

“What does sex have to do with winning?” she screamed, finally managing the offensive word.

“Sex good. Sex relax you. Sex make you better athlete.”

“What!”

“Honey, Darling, Deer,” her dad said. “It’s a well-documented phenomenon that people who have sex the night before a competition perform better.”

“Uurrruuggg!” Tara growled. She stomped her foot and tore her coat from the back of the chair.

However, even as she stormed towards the door she couldn’t help but notice that Elroy hadn’t said a word. In fact, he’d kind of distanced himself from the whole conversation. He’d observed but invested nothing to its outcome.

Most boys she’d known would have leapt at any chance to sleep anything with the proper hole. She couldn’t help but wonder if he perhaps didn’t find her all that attractive.

“Wait! Darling,” her father said, leaping to her side. He thrust an arm up over her shoulder and stopped the door before she could slip out. “I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to … I don’t know. It’s just that you’ve wanted to win so bad and now, and now things are so hard for you.”

Tara turned her face up towards her father. Raw emotions raged across her face. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t say anything.

“I know you don’t want to have sex with him. You don’t have too. Just let him relax you. He really is a masseuse.” He thrust a card into her hand. “Remember how much you want to win. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here. Just,” he said, “think about it.” He let go of the door.

Tara stormed out. She crushed the card in a fist as she stormed down the rental’s steps. She nearly threw it in the gutter as she stomped outside.

She cocked her arm to throw it when she came to a sudden stop. She thought of his smile, the firm warmth of his handshake, the play of his muscles. She crushed the crinkled card in her purse instead.

Those thoughts, the warmth of his smile, the look in his eyes, kadıköy escort her father’s indecent proposal chased her around town all afternoon, from bar to disco to the Olympic plaza at twighlight. But she didn’t want to drink, she didn’t want to dance and she most certainly didn’t know what to do at the plaza so, frustrated, she returned to the barracks.

Tara was still hot with anger when she entered her bare little room. She was hot with something else too. She couldn’t get Elroy out of her mind. He was becoming an itch, a bad itch, that against all odds and logic she’d been given permission to scratch.

A cold shower didn’t help. She couldn’t get to sleep. Her oversized tee-shirt pajamas scratched at her nipples. Twice she found her and hand in her white cotton bikini briefs like some wanna be jock watching football.

She looked at the clock. It was 8:00. Then it was 8:15. Then, after the thirtieth timed she’d flopped over in bed, the third time she’d caught herself fumbling around with her hand in her pants and the tenth time she’d check the clock it still wasn’t even ten.

“Urrrg!” she growled, sitting up. Grumpy, and not quite believing she was doing it, she stomped over to her purse and rooted out the smashed card.

She called, and hung up twice, before she finally held the line long enough for him to answer.

“Hello?” There was a long pause. He didn’t sound sleepy at all. Tara could hear another voice, a feminine voice, in the background, asking who it was.

“Hello?” Elroy said again. “Tara, is that you?”

Tara squeaked and hung up. She flung the phone across the room. Fortunately it bounced of the bed before it clattered to the floor and no real damage was done. It started ringing.

She raced up to it and kicked it under the bed. There was a muffled bang when it collided with the wall. It shut up, but then after a moment, it started ringing again.

“Arrr!” she screamed, and flung herself face down on the bed. She jammed her pillow over her head and screamed into the coverlet. Little kicks drove her toes into the mattress again and again and again.

There was a loud banging on the wall followed by shouting.

“Shut up! I’ve got practice a 4:00 AM!”

Tara stopped her kicking mid scream. Fortunately, by then the phone had stopped ringing and she was able to stop smashing the pillow into her ears. Emotionally exhausted, she lay there.

She might have slept. She didn’t know. But when the knock on the door sounded she shot bolt upright.

“Tara,” someone called, quietly. “Tara, are you in there?”

“Oh God!” Tara thought, “It’s Elroy. He’s here.” A familiar queasy feeling churned in her stomach only this time her chest tightened too. It felt electric. It kind of hurt. She didn’t know what to do.

“Tara?”

“Yes,” she said, before she could stop herself. Gods, why had she done that? Now he knew she was here. Still, unable to help herself she crept to the door.

“Can I come in?”

“So you can …”

“No,” he chuckled. “So we can talk. You know, this was not my idea. I’m a massage therapist. A sports therapist. Not some sort of French gigolo.”

Tara reached for the door and then pulled back. She reached for it again but didn’t open it. Her hand shook and the handle giggled a little. Oh gods her knees felt weak.

“Tara?”

“Okay,” she squeaked, around the tightness in her breast. She thought again of his blue eyes, rippling muscles and warm hands. The queasy feeling abated only to be replaced by a nervous charge in her chest that was sinking towards her hips. She opened the door.

And there he stood, all seventy three inches of muscle bound cuteness. He wore a white tee-shirt and jeans and had a farm boy Greek god look about him. That nervous charge Tara had been feeling took on a little heat and sank lower.

Elroy’s warm smile twitched, just slightly, when he saw her. His eyes flicked down. Her eyes followed his gaze.

“Oh my god!” she squeaked, flushing scarlet. She leapt back from the door, tore the coverlet from her bed and wrapped it about her waist.

Elroy chuckled as he stepped into the room. He dropped a small duffle and shut the door.

“Hi,” he said, stepping a little further.

“Hi,” Tara said, biting her lip. “Soooo, you wanted to talk.”

“Well, yah,” he said, finding himself a chair. “First off Tara, there’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s not like I haven’t seen more at the beach.”

“You haven’t seen more of me at the beach.”

“True, but I’m sure someone has. Likely many someones. Your dad did show me pictures. That beach at Savannah looks real nice.”

“He showed you pictures,” Tara choked out, while blushing again. She’d been wearing a string bikini, a very small string bikini, last spring on that beach.

“So,” he said. “You called; three times. Why did you call?”

If Tara had been blushing before, she was positively on fire now. She thought she might melt. She wanted to melt, or maybe hide under kartal escort the bed. Seconds ticked by.

“Let me guess,” he said, when she didn’t answer. “Your dad’s proposal? It’s been on your mind?”

“Yah,” Tara breathed. She twisted a foot about, grinding a toe into the floor. She ducked her head even lower while refusing to meet his gaze.

“I suppose it would surprise you to know that such proposals are not really all that uncommon. At this level, coaches, uh, encourage their athletes all the time. True, it’s the first time I’ve seen a father in on it, but coaches, yah, they do that.”

“You’re kidding? Right?” Tara said, surprised into looking him in the eyes. They were all blue, all warm and oh so gorgeous. Her voice caught and for a second her mouth worked but nothing came out.

“Wait, how would you know?” she finally sputtered.

“Hmph! This is not my first Olympics; or World Championship for that matter.”

“You’re an athlete?” she said, surprised. He was fit, very fit, but he hadn’t the look, that special something, that invisible mantel, that all Olympians wore.

He chuckled. “Uh, no. Nothing like that. But I do follow the sports circuit. It’s where I get most my work.”

“Your work?”

“Yah, sports therapist, remember?”

“Oh yah, right. I was thinkin’ …,” she said, and then paused. “Nevermind.”

Elroy smiled.

“You really are uptight, aren’t you? Your father said you were but I wasn’t sure I believed him.”

“Hey!”

“I meant nervous, about the Olympics.”

“Oh, yah, I guess I am,” Tara said. Her voice quavered.

Trying to appear casual, she unwrapped the coverlet and threw it on the bed. After all, as he said, bikini briefs and a tee- shirt really weren’t the most revealing outfit she owned. Still, she sat on the edge of the mattress and crossed her legs.

“Tara, I am a sports massage therapist. Some even call me a relaxation coach. I’m really, really good at it. At least I like to think I am. The coaches, your coach, may think differently but my true job is to work out your jitters. That’s what matters. It doesn’t have to involve sex and I am not here to seduce you. Will you let me try?”

Tara sucked in a heavy breath. Her breast rose and then, slowly fell. A certain amount of tension, and fear, fled with it. She felt a twinge of disappointment too.

“Okay,” Tara said.

He smiled, and then turned all business like.

“Lay down, face down,” he said. He jumped up and grabbed his bag. The bed was low and he was tall so he grabbed a chair and scooted it over for a seat. “Now don’t panic. I’m going to remover your shirt before we get started. I’m just going to pull it over your head while you lay there. With you lying like that I won’t see anything. You okay with that?”

Tara gulped, and nodded. She flinched when he first touched her. She had to lift her arms as he pulled the shirt’s hem up over her head. The collar caught on her nose. She turned her head towards the wall and it popped off leaving the barest hint of a rug burn on the tip of her nose. She laughed and then sneezed.

She heard her shirt drop onto the floor. Her breath caught and that electric excitedly terrified feeling in her breast returned. Another, warmer one, began to tickle her below.

He handed her a white towel.

“You can use that to cover yourself when I role you over later.”

Tara took an unsteady breath.

“Now, let us begin,” he said. “I’m going to touch your shoulders now.”

And he did. Strong warm hands were rested upon her shoulders. Slowly he eased his thumbs into the spine of her neck. He dug. Her muscles parted and tension began to bleed free. Tara could almost imagine her muscles groaning with relief.

His warm, oh so strong, hands worked her neck, her shoulders, her ribs, and her spine all the way to her tailbone. Each touch released strain from her muscles and worry from her mind. Occasionally she’d mew as a particularly tight knot parted before his steady assault.

Then he was massaging her feet. She yelped and nearly jerked them from his hands as the first jolt from his thumbs ran up her legs into her thighs. He stopped, let her relax, and then dug in a second time.

The released tension bolted up her legs, coiled about her hips and added to the warm relaxing glow that was starting to envelop her. And slowly, luxuriantly she began to stretch. Even her toes spread with the heady glow that began to fill her.

“That’s more like it,” Elroy murmured, as she settled into her bed deeper. She let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes.

Elroy began up the back of her legs, slowly kneading the powerful muscles that had won her so many competitions. He worked his way up higher. He slowly spread her legs, giving himself room for his hands. An almost liquid sense of relaxation spread from his every touch.

Tara’s mind drifted. Thoughts of simple sunshine and flowers were chased away by dreams of Jason. Then even that went away. She simply allowed the warmth Elroy induced to engulf her. When a knuckle on his hand just barely flicked the delicate side of her rump, she didn’t jump, she merely drifted away on an avalanche of coiling calming warmth.

When Tara opened her eyes, she was on her back, the towel lazily spread over her breasts by one hand, her other arm languidly draped up over her head. Elroy was massaging her legs again.

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

She is more than a dream of mine, and more than perfection to me.

She looks now just as she did then. Each time we look different, but somehow the same. This is our fifth life’s ‘reunion’. We’ve each experienced many more lives than five, but this is our fifth time together. We’ve known each other in most of our lives, but we weren’t together. In the last life she was married to an engineer and had three children. She is always faithful to her man. This time I was that man.

I feel that we were made for each other. In past lives we had been in many professions and held many jobs and positions. This time I’m a professor and she is a teacher, again. She is just as beautiful as I remembered when I’d met her in the last life. She would never leave her engineer then, but I’d asked her if, in our next life, she’d give me a kiss and get to know me better. She’d said yes, and my heart sang. Somehow I knew there would be another life, at the time, but she wasn’t certain.

Her body has always been flawless. Even after three children in the previous life, her body has shown no effect. Her tummy and breasts were as superb as they are now. In that life we’d met on the Internet, and I instantly knew she was my dream. We’d spent time talking, and enjoying our time there even though we never physically met. But, it wasn’t the same. I’d asked for pictures and she’d sent them, and what pictures they were — my heart still sings. But talking and viewing are not the same as being together.

When she walks I listen for the angels to move aside. When she talks I learn of beauty, and the sound that angels make. When we make love I surrender. I don’t know why there are so many different lives, but each time that I’m with her I try to make them perfect. I’m learning, slowly, that I can affect our future, or next, life.

I hope, eventually, to have only her in each new life. I want to be with her always and satisfy her every dream. I’m hoping that if somehow we’re together often enough that eventually I’ll win the jackpot and she’ll be mine forever. This would be perfection to never again have to share her.

Right now we’re at the beach. She’s wearing a hip length robe over her shoulders that helps to hide her luscious body from passersby and her body is enclosed only by a red bikini. Her hips and thighs are of the texture and color of cool cream. Her magnificent breasts force the bikini to constantly struggle to contain them. Her hips are like the soft undulating ocean swell experienced while sailing on the calm day after a severe storm. Her legs are perfection personified. As she turns her head back toward me, her profile takes away my breath for a moment and I’m gasping maltepe escort for air. She stretches an arm toward me, palm up, to grab my hand and pull me forward, toward her. Her eyes swallow my soul, and her lips cause it to lust. She takes my hand, and I feel the strength in those long fingers. I can still remember the huge engagement ring that she wore in her previous life — and I remember the smaller wedding band.

We begin a slow run together. The bikini is doing overtime around the perfection of her hips and the enclosure of her breasts. The red of the bikini blends perfectly with the tinge of the sun-highlighted deep red coming through her long dark hair. I yearn with the vision of that hair surrounding and caressing her naked breasts, and then dipping to provide a frame for the perfection of her hips and womanhood.

We are headed for the end of the beach, and privacy of sea rocks that will shelter us from other’s eyes. Before we left the car, I’d spread a creamy sun protectant across her body. I felt and tasted the beauty in all that she is. I massaged the lotion into her skin while giving special attention to those spots most affected by the sun, and those parts so special in our love. She’d closed her eyes and slowly rocked her body as I’d worked. She’d hummed softly, providing the music to inspire my efforts.

I turned and ran backwards with her; I was studying the beach behind us for a sign of anyone coming this far down. The beach seemed clear. I wanted to be absolutely alone with her. We entered the water to our waists and walked around the steep rocks to our own private beach captured between them. The sand was as white as we remembered, and the surrounding rocks as dark. We walked to the center of the beach a few yards behind the breaking waves and spread a large white blanket. I placed the picnic cooler at the rear of the blanket where we could easily reach it later. I took her in my arms and pulled her body toward me. She eagerly responded and moved against me in a return embrace. My arms opened and my hands stretched downward to cup her ass and pull her hips closer.

I slipped her robe off and let it fall to the blanket. Then, I busied myself with the three bows she’d used to secure the bikini. The material was relieved of the stress, and both parts of the bikini floated to a pile on top of the robe. Her body glistened with the satin sheen formed from minute beads of perspiration in the morning heat. The sun reflected off her breasts as they jumped from their restraints. Her nipples were large, perfect and erect. The areola of each breast was a symbol of life to come. Her tummy pendik escort was softly curved and blended from hip to hip and mound to navel. I wanted to explore the sight of that soft body bronze and taste the depth of her ‘inny’.

She eagerly responded to the soft pressure my erection communicated to her body as we stood there. She took the towel from my shoulders, dropped it in a pile on the blanket and then placed her palms, fingers spread, against the small of my back. Her hands moved as she stretched the waistband, her hands entered my swim trunks, and then began the slow journey to my own ass. She pulled me closer and a soft massage began as her hips began a slow rhythmic dance against my stomach Previously, as she’d lowered her hands, she’d hooked the band of my trunks with her thumbs. Now she began the task of gently removing them.

When at last I was free, while still standing she managed to trap me in the soft spread between her thighs. I’d been erect and eager for what seemed hours. When my trunks were released and fell, I’d stepped out of them, hooked them with a toe and kicked them to the blanket. Momentarily, my cock swung in an arc and my balls flew in the opposite direction. As they returned, her legs had completed the task. It felt good, warm, at home in that softness. She reached between us and around me to cup my balls. She felt the softness of my scrotum, and the swelling in my balls. She began another motion of her hips and my cock slid, caressing her own sexuality. It felt good to feel her lips fondle me and begin the slow motion entrance to her pussy.

I grew even harder as she worked, and the slow ache of ‘blue balls’ began its incessant climb into pain. Now her lips had been spread by both the action of her hips and my increased firmness. She was riding me now, and the hood of her clit was raised and being caressed by the top of my cock. She stroked me long, before each time moving to reinsert. Her body began to move faster and my own excitement was building. Somehow, she managed to completely trap me momentarily while she hopped up into my arms. As she hopped, my cock entered her, and then she settled back on it.

I was holding her on my hips, entrapped by my arms and with my hands supporting her by the ass. Her arms were around my neck and there was never a break in our kiss. She released my tongue for a moment and pulled her face away, she smiled knowingly at me, winked quickly, and again returned to a deepened kiss. She rode me the way a woman might expertly ride a mechanical bronc in a western bar, or the way a professional cowgirl would ride at a rodeo. I was rode hard and kaynarca escort put away wet.

She climaxed again and again. At times, she’d pause while climaxing, and at other times the climax would only serve to amplify her effort. I could feel the warmth of her juices on my leg, after her last climax. I kneeled and lowered her until her bottom rested on the blanket and then I pulled away. I hadn’t climaxed, although the effort to prevent it was extreme. I crawled forward, rocked her back and then pulled her feet up to contain those escaping juices. And then I plunged my face into the sweet source of that dampness. I inhaled her scent deeply, scooped her juices with my tongue and tasted the sweet water of her climax. I laved her with my tongue. I’ve always liked the long hair of her pussy, but this time she’d shaved it for her bikini and the lips were as smooth and sweet as the finest butter. She bent her knees as I worked and dropped the calves of her legs over my shoulders.

I ran my tongue over her and into her. Finally, I used it to pull back the hood over her clit and make slow circles around it. My lips encircled her clit and I, too, began sucking while my tongue began a practiced sensual dance around and over it. In my pleasure, I managed to take her to the pinnacle of excitement and then push her over time and again. Her body was exhausted and trembling when I released her. Her mind was overpowered by sensation and she took moments to respond.

Suddenly, she sat up and thanked me and then climbed into my lap smiling. She told me that there was one other thing I had to do before I could rest. She climbed atop me and my still erect member. She glided onto me and turned animal. She fucked me again, but this time I finally released everything I had. There was a brief moment of pain as I released, but then a cloud of passion swept through and over me. She made a wonderful, gutteral sound as my cum filled her.

The warmth of my discharge caused her to climax again. This time it was more exciting than even the totality of the marathon we’d just completed. She hugged me and I could feel the comforting contractions of her inner muscles at work. We exchanged a long, lingering kiss of mutual pleasure.

Finally, she pulled away as my cock softened, and she bent her head to clean me.

I’ve spent time while she naps, to study her form. She is amazing and beautiful. She is intelligent and faithful. I love watching the swell of her breasts and tummy as she breathes. I study the curve of her ass and the rise of her mound — those amazing things she wouldn’t send me pictures of in our previous life.. The softness and lips of her womanhood cause me to hold my breath. In her sleep, she turns on one side and draws a knee up, exposing her beautiful pussy outlined by a pair of softly swollen warm smooth lips. An arm relaxes across her naked breasts. I yearn to wake her, but she needs her rest for later this day.

This is not the end of our perfect day at the shore, but it definitely started that 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

After moving out of my parents’ home, I moved to a loft with a lesbian couple, Jeanette and Eliza and worked as ticket booth agent for the city subway system. It was a boring and aggravating job as I just sat in a booth giving fare cards and maps to customers, dealing with the complaints if something occurred with their cards that prevented them from entering the system and I can do nothing about it, and have also witnessed crimes like assaults, robberies and rapes and could only sit there watching as I was not allowed to leave my post or intervene.

The one good thing about the job was that it was just a few blocks from my home, so I did not have to deal with long, delay prone commutes, but overtime, I got lonely and depressed from lack of sex, which I frequently had with my ex until she one day suddenly got uncomfortable with it. It made me mad as sex made me happy. She dumped me after I kept begging her nonstop to have sex with me again.

Eliza noticed me looking sadder and sadder as time passed and one night we were both off from work while Jeanette was not. Eliza came kozyatağı escort to my room and went up to me while I sat on my bed groaning in misery. She asked what was wrong as I said lack of sex made me unable to handle stress and unhappiness from work. She asked if I wanted to have sex with her. I was shocked at that, as not only was she gay and in a relationship, but was drugged and raped at a hotel 10 years earlier by a male assailant who was never caught, which I never asked if it may have influenced her sexual orientation. She said she just wanted me to be happy and was willing to have sex with me under several conditions.

Being gay, she would not give me oral sex or get intercourse and I had to stay clothed. I was okay with that, being a giver a lot more than a receiver. While she was 34 and I was 28 (and Jeanette was 42) I could not pass up my chance with a hot blond like her. When I said I was ready, she held my head up by the chin and bent forward to kiss me. We kissed harder, as she held my face and I küçükyalı escort unbuttoned and took off her shirt to reveal her black bra. We kept kissing as I unzipped and took off her jeans to reveal matching black panties and ran my hands on her hot body.

She held her hands on my face and I kissed her neck, chin, and down her torso. She moved my head across her abdomen while moaning and saying she really loved what I was doing. I took off her panties to give her oral and ran my fingers between her buttock cheeks. This was my first time licking pussy in over a year and hers tasted great. She held my head panting as I held her butt. When she orgasmed, I told her to turn about. She did, bent forward and held the table in front of her as I kissed up her legs and thighs while holding her hips.

I then sniffed her butt (it smelled terrific) before kissing and licking all over both cheeks as she panted. This was awesome as the ass was my favorite part of a lady’s body. I kissed and licked hers for who knows how long mutlu kent escort and ran my fingers down her ass crack. I licked down her crack, giving her a rim job. She fingered her vagina, held her breasts, and giggled while telling me to not stop as it felt great. She too said she and Jeanette liked each other’s butts and anuses and often kissed and licked them. I kissed her butt cheeks more until she dripped fluid to the floor.

She sat on my lap facing the same direction. I kissed her entire back and both arms while taking off her bra then she about faced and knelt atop me. I kissed her breasts nipples and fingered her vagina. She held me in and begged for me to suck them, which I did. She laid me on the bed, got atop me, held my head and kissed my whole face while I spanked and grabbed her buttock cheeks and fingered her anus.

After she cummed, we lay sideways face-to-face under the cover as she held my face to her breasts caressing me with her left leg on my waist. I held and rubbed her buttocks and softly kissed her nipples. She asked if our sex made me feel better and I said it did. It felt great to kiss and lick all over a woman’s body as she said I did it well.

She kissed my forehead, saying she would have sex with me whenever I wanted under the same conditions if Jeanette was not home. I agreed to it and we kissed, then realized Jeanette would be home soon and got off the bed, got dressed, and cleaned the room.

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

My fascination with her started with one glance, one small smile. I had seen her around before, but never really noticed her. One day it changed.

I had gone to the corner store for some snacks before the game that night, and she was visiting her dad, who lived downstairs in my building. As I got home, she was sitting outside on his front step, listening to her music player. I glanced up as I turned down the driveway, and she looked up enough to see me coming. She tilted her head ever so slightly, and smiled. It was adorable, and endearing, and I smiled back and walked on. After that, whenever she was around, I tried my best to sneak glances.

I couldn’t get her out of my head. She wasn’t my usual fare; but there was something about her that drew me in. She had a slight, girlish build: long, coltish legs that seemed mismatched to an ass that screamed out to be manhandled and a chest that was still filling out. She had that girl next door quality, with her t-shirt and jeans, relaxed attitude, and that smile: it had a way of disarming you, and yet it wasn’t the most perfect smile. Maybe it was just the way it fit her personality, her smile seemed to hide in plain sight, just like her.

A few weeks went by, and I knew I had to do something to clear my head. I figured she couldn’t be interested back, so maybe if I just had a talk with her, I could convince myself that this was just fantasy. I let it slide until one day she was back out on the steps.

“Hi,” I took the first step.

“Hi,” she answered, her voice timid and quiet.

I walked past with two bags of groceries, then pulled up my courage, and threw caution to the wind. I turned around, and walked back over to her steps.

“I’ve seen you over here before. My name is Brian.”

“I’m Tarah; I come over here to see my dad. Him and my mom are divorced, so,” she trailed off.

“So you live at your mom’s?”

“Only until I finish college, then I am moving away from this town!” She laughed, nervous and shy. I was caught up in rapid fire thoughts: she’s in college? Never would have guessed that. She hasn’t blown me off yet. Maybe she likes me too? How do I find out? Where do I go from here?

What came out of my mouth happened by pure instinct alone, because my brain was long gone by this point. “Wanna grab a coffee? It’s gotta beat sitting alone on the front step.”

There’s that smile again. “Sure, that would be great.”

“Let me just put these groceries away in my place, and I’ll be back down in a minute.”

“OK, I’ll be here.”

I ran those groceries up, tossed them on the table, and slowed down only when I got close to the last corner before she could see me. Trying hard to play it cool, I popped around the corner, and she gathered up her stuff. As we walked down the street, we made the awkward first steps in any conversation where you are trying to get to know someone. No, I live alone, I’m single. So sorry to hear you aren’t close to your dad. Yeah, it is nice, a great location for apartments. It’s great to see the weather finally starting to turn toward a nice fall. Wow, nursing! That’s a good paying job, and it’s gotta be pretty fulfilling, too. Nice choice for your studies. Me? I’m just a manager of a men’s clothing store at the mall. It pays the bills, right?

We taksim escort sat down with our coffees at the shop, and things just built from there. No, she loved her dad, but hated how he hurt her mom. She only came to see him because he was alone now, and she hated that more than the hurt he caused the whole family. She had a younger brother and sister, but they stayed with her mom. She sat on the step because he would sit in front of the TV and ignore her after the first few minutes of conversation. I could kinda relate, my parents did the same thing, and they would fixate on only what they wanted, and not get that I just needed to live my life. She totally understood, and that’s why she wanted to get out of there so bad. She couldn’t focus at home, she tried to keep the family somewhat together by visiting her dad; she just needed to move on, and until she could, she had decided to just stretch to cover it all herself.

The conversation lapsed as we both sipped slowly on our coffees. So similar, yet so different. There was something tangible there, and I could feel it. I knew I had to see her again, and I tried to think of a way to. I hit on the idea by complete luck.

“So why not bring your homework over to your dad’s? It’s not like he would bother you once you started working on it. Then you could focus and get it done, and help get your grades back up.”

“I would, but it’s a lot to carry over from my mom’s, and I don’t have a car. And I hate taking the bus, just thinking of all the germs, ugh…”

“Well, and don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’d like, I could pick you up on my way home on Fridays. You normally stay the whole weekend, right? Then you could bring your books, work on your studies, and get school done and move on with your life.”

“I could never impose like that, I’ll be ok.”

“No, I insist. I’d appreciate the company. How about this? You can pay me back by taking breaks from your work to sit and have coffee and chat with me. I get so bored upstairs by myself, and it would be nice just to have a friend to chat with.”

“Really?” she wavered. I knew I had her.

“Yeah, come on. I promise I’m not that bad once you get to know me.”

And so we agreed to start our weekend coffee club, just the two of us, with a simple handshake over some coffees. We grabbed two more cups to go, and started walking back home. The sun had started to set, and the day was cooling off, but things were just heating up between us. As we approached the apartment building, I asked if she’d like to join me for dinner, unless her and her old man had plans. She didn’t even stop in to ask him. With that smile, she answered, “And leave this conversation when it’s just getting started? I don’t think so!”

We walked up to my place, with me apologizing profusely for not cleaning before having company. She replied that her dad was back to his bachelor ways, so she was used to it. We walked into the kitchen, and I started picking up the groceries from earlier, stuffing them into the little cabinets in my tiny kitchenette. I told her to have a seat, and started pulling out things for dinner. I cooked us two little steaks and some mixed veggies. She slid around the kitchenette, tidying things up, topkapı escort setting out plates and utensils, and giving the table a homey feel. A few times as we both moved around we brushed up against each other, or out right bumped into each other, and you could feel the electricity passing back and forth. The conversation stayed light, and we joked about professors at her school, and people in the neighborhood. As we sat down to eat, she looked at me from across the table, and there was something in her eyes, some glint that I couldn’t recognize. We talked about things in common, and things we disliked, and things that drove us crazy, and we laughed so hard that it made us cry. It was one of the best meals I have ever had.

As we finished up, she got up and took the dishes to the sink, where she started washing them. I told her to stop, to not worry about them as I would get them later. She insisted, so I got up to stop her; after all, she was a guest. I slipped behind her and grabbed her hands out of the sink, then realized the position we were now in. She stopped, her breathing slow and baited; she was waiting for my move. I sensed this, but wasn’t sure if we were on the same page. I figured I had nothing to lose, so I took the next step.

“You don’t need to do these, I’ll take care of them later.”

“So then what do we do now?”

I pulled a towel off the stove, and dried her hands. Sparks were flying, and we both knew something had to happen. I leaned next to her ear, and said softly: “I know that right now, I want to kiss you.”

She spun around in my arms, and glanced up at me; she was still that shy girl, but I knew now that glint in her eye was desire, and it was growing. She tilted her head up, and we kissed softly. It was passion and emotion and raw energy, and it wasn’t going to be satisfied with one soft kiss. As we broke apart, I opened my eyes to see something changed in her; and she turned away quickly.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?”

“Nothing, it’s not you.”

“Then what is it?” I pulled her back around, staring into those blue pools framed by her dirty blonde streaks of hair that fell into her eyes.

“I don’t know, I just can’t remember feeling like this before. It scares me; you scare me. Not like that, not in a bad way, but…”

“But what? Tell me.”

“But, it’s like I want to let go, of the hurt and the hard times, and just enjoy this moment, which has been so perfect, like a dream! But if I do, when it’s over, all of this will come rushing back, and that will hurt worse then not letting go. It’s like I can see life without the pain, but I don’t want to visit it and have to come back to reality. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I get it, but at the same time, you can’t deny you feel something too. What does that mean then?”

She paused, looking at my eyes, and it felt like she was searching my soul for answers. Her hand reached up to pull me closer, and we kissed once more, this time with more fervor. She pulled away, and said, “Maybe it means it’s time for me to let go.”

I pulled her into my arms, and leaned her back against the countertop, and we kissed longer, and as we did, the energy in the room became palpable, and we started the tuyap escort caresses and touches that would take us down the road to full on groping. Our mouths still mashed together, I spun her away from the counter and towards the living room. We walked down the hall, but she stopped as we got next to my darkened bedroom doorway, and she turned us into there. She pulled my shirt up, and as I slid it over my head, she bounced onto my bed, and turned to beckon me with one finger. I climbed on next to her, and as we kissed she leaned me on to my back and ran her fingers across my chest, toying with the hairs on my chest. I grabbed at her plump ass with one hand, and squeezed it firmly. She giggled in my arms, and pulled back until she was kneeling next to me. I lifted her t-shirt, and she pulled it up over her head. I sat up, and undid her bra, then quickly began to play with my new find. She had such delicate nipples, and they tensed up at the slightest touch. I played my fingertips across them, and she shivered. I pulled her close, kissing her as I pulled her back on top of me. The feeling of her breasts rubbing against my chest was exhilarating, and as our tongues found their way together, I traced my fingers across her back and sides. I felt her left hand push in between us, and she rubbed my growing bulge through my cargo pants. She pushed up, and sat back again, this time her fingers pulling at my pants and tugging them open. I reached down and shoved them off, and them moaned as her soft fingers now pulled at my hard cock. Her slender fingers stroked up and down, making the muscles of my groin jump in her hand.

After a few minutes of stoking my excitement to new levels, I pulled her hands away from my dick and back to my chest. I rolled her over and quickly she shed her jeans and panties. I licked her lips, teasing her sides with my touch to help return some of that excitement building in me. My fingers moved from her waist to the soft patch of skin and tufts of hair at that most delicate junction of her body, and I could feel her dewy essence on her lips. I stroked circles around that sweet pussy, and felt how plush and engorged she was. Knowing she was primed for more, I slid down her body, and began using my tongue as fast as my fingers in working her into a frothy frenzy. She came twice in rapid succession, and she pulled my head up as she struggled to catch her breath. I grinned at her, and slid my body up between her legs, feeling her wetness coating my stomach and then my prick.

“Having fun yet?” I asked her.

“Oh, just give me more!”

I rocked my hips, coating myself in her juices as I split her outer lips open with my cock. I pushed into her, and she opened up, taking me like a hot knife into butter. Her soft canal, so steamy and wet, felt like heaven, and I gently and persistently pushed in until I had filled her up with all of me. Her moans and sighs of approval ensured she was ready. I began to slowly start that sultry dance all first time lovers make, gradually learning each other’s moves, building a trust in the rhythm of the passion and emotion, of the raw sexual energy that passes from one to the other as they unite for the common goal of release; release from themselves, from this world and its cares. Heavy kisses and frantic motions brought us to the edge quickly, and just before we jumped, I pulled out and coated our stomachs with my contribution to our lovemaking. As she came down from her ecstatic high, I fell next to her, and began to caress her face. This delicate angel had chosen me to share this exquisite experience, and I would do everything in my power to repay her for this gift.

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