Monday, May 22, 2017

Blogging Buddies

Ever since I was in college, I've heard the phrase, "Well, she/he talks a good screw", but I never digested what it really meant. I just thought it was one of those phrases that men and women put together to ultimately mean that all the talk to get a potential love partner into bedroom situations was better than the actual performance - or worse yet, a tease or come-on that never led to even second base or to bed even by the proverbial third date rule. I'm sure we all can relate, somehow. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt in the gift shop. Huh?

Yeah, it's kind of "a thing". It happens and c'est la vie. "Next!" Sure, you can laugh about it now.

The story I'm about to tell may or may not be true. In fact, it probably isn't. Just another sex-crazed idea that bounces around in the head-spaces of a regular guy as he imagines who is really on the other end of those positive, creative and suggestive comments - written by various people over the years - to his most innocent of blogs, opinions and writing self-assignments posted to online blog-o-sphere. For safety and simplicity's sake, I'm going to combine all those people into one person. Chances are, it will never be read, anyway.

It all started about six years ago. It only seems like yesterday, but of course, time seems to fly in the face of an older guy rushing toward that final fade-to-black. As all bloggers know, we post our stuff online for the folks we have "befriended" at that blog site, who then have the opportunity to express their opinions and make comments. Most are generally supportive, some rude and argumentative - which are then, "un-friended" - and those few who actually bother to read and understand what ideas I was attempting to convey. Those comments had the most validity and therefore became the most valuable people. As I read their blogs, I began to really read-into what that person was trying to say.

As time continued, the blogs became, more or less, focused on each other. This is serious and risky behavior online. This isn't a box of chocolates kind of Forrest Gump thing. While fun, exciting and only slightly dangerous, we continued writing AT each other, all the while remaining public in the blog site. To get rid of a lot of borderline "friends", I began to post blogs that neither expressed my personal opinions or ideas, stories or memories. One by one, my "friends" disappeared ... all except one or two. I announced that I was leaving the site as it was taking too much time and was getting vicious - which is a common complaint online these days. Funny that I created it myself. (There really are a lot of whacked-out people who have internet access out there.)

One woman, who refused to post a photo of her true self on her site, sent a personal message that she wanted to continue to read my stuff and where I would be going to blog next. Thinking back, I had already moved my blogging from three sites already - closed down by the server as "non-profitable". I guess we were all NOT clicking on their advertising banners enough. Not knowing where, when or if ever I was going to continue blogging, I gave her my e-mail address. At this point and after all the time we'd spent sharing ideas online, I felt pretty safe in doing so, but still had no idea who she was or anything. I just knew she was fun, but requested we share more information. I already knew she was near my age, was an adult and had adult children she was proud of after having read her blogs in the past, but still at least, web cam shy. No pictures.

Over a period of time, e-mails weren't enough to communicate. E-mails progressed to another blog site where we began telling each other stories. It was a matter of timing when/where our online contributions could be posted or read. It was public, but there were only two people on the circuit. The stories turned erotic in nature. We wondered how far this pleasant fiction would go?

Then, one evening, under the influence of more than one glass of a bold Cabernet, I turned on my HD webcam and created a short video. As the image on the monitor focused in, I adjusted the light and clicked the red 'record' button. Without any words, I just lifted my shirt, spread saliva on my index finger tip and rubbed it in a circular fashion around my left nipple. Then, laughed and clicked the 'stop' button. I accessed the e-mail site and created a new e-mail, attached the video and added "LOL", then clicked send. I waited.

Her response was, "Nice nippies." How do we do a video chat? THIS, would take exchanging cell phone numbers.

Funny how things sort of "happen".


Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Earthbound Universe

Paul and Patti loved traveling together. In fact, they loved doing everything when they were together. That’s not to say they had perfect lives. They did not. They each functioned very well alone. Paul had problems. Patti had problems, but they worked on and solved those problems together so that as a couple they had nothing left of those mere inconvenient circumstances.

It was a rare relationship, but it hadn’t come easy over the years. Their relationship had evolved over their married lives from their initial traditionally male/female roles to that of a single entity – the couple. They each did what needed done when it needed to be done without regard for whose job it was. They knew each other so well that communications between them was almost assumed in advance – what others might call intuitive second-guessing with nearly one-hundred percent accuracy. Their relatives and friends were both confused and envious of their symbiotic relationship.

They had long heard about the historic U.S. highway called Route 66 and wanted to travel it before it was all gone. They read that it was once the best route to take from Chicago, Illinois to Los Angeles, California. So far their journey had been a wonderful excursion back through time with just enough modern Interstate Highway to keep them grounded in this time. They traveled light, meaning that they took very little with them in their RV that they didn’t need. They were adequately comfortable. They knew very well the drawbacks and costs of materialism because they had played that bankers’ game. They didn’t have to play it anymore.

Normally, Paul didn’t drive at night. Instead, he would pull into a previously reserved RV Camp sometime before 4:30 pm so he could still get registered and park the rig before it got too dark to hook-up without a flashlight. It was just part of the routine of traveling. Tonight would be different. Tonight they wanted to sleep together in the desert – like the old “Eagles” song said: “I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight with a million stars all around.” This had been a dream of theirs for quite a long time. The song was popular when they were in their twenties, but they were much older now. Somehow, their love within them still glowed as it had from the beginning and tonight was their wedding anniversary.

The night skies promised to be cloudless and dark under the first New Moon of summer. They had planned to get off the beaten path of the highway system and took a back road and decided on “their spot” to boon-dock for a couple of nights. Boon-docking is a term used to describe using the resources of your RV and not being connected to any other power source, water supply or sewer connection. With their solar power and gasoline generator, full water tanks and empty sewer tanks, they could conceivably stay anywhere from two-fourteen days if they were conservative with their resources. They had no intentions to stay the maximum, but planning wasn’t in their itinerary. They loved to be spontaneous and planned only when they had to.

Paul pulled the rig around so that it paralleled the rising sun on the driver’s side and the setting sun on the passenger side. That allowed them to put out the awning strategically for the afternoon sun while setting out the folding patio chairs from storage to face the western sun as it sank below the horizon casting into shadow the cactus and plants of the desert floor while colorfully illuminating the sides of the mountains to the south and north of their campsite. Any highway noise was about a half-mile back behind them.

The sun began to set as Patti set aside the last of the supper dishes to air dry. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she peeked out the screened door to see what Paul had been doing. He already had the Tiki-Torches out and the chairs set-up to watch the sunset comfortably. He had also cleared a spot, laid-out a heavy-duty furniture pad and laid down the double-wide sleeping bag and pillows on top of that. It was conveniently located near the motorhome in the even they had to get inside quickly for some reason. The wine and glasses were sitting on the folding table near the chairs and the campfire he built was burning fairly well. As the sun went down, the fire would be a welcome heat source. He had just enough firewood set out for a peaceful, easy evening.

“My, but you have been busy. Haven’t you?” Patti queried.

“Yes, indeed. I want this to be a special night for us. I want to be ready for anything.” 

With a wink, he pulled-up his t-shirt to show her the 9 mm semi-automatic pistol holstered at his waist that he kept for security purposes. It gets cold in the desert at night. Cold-blooded creatures seek warmth anywhere they can find it. The pistol was just in case they got too close. He pulled the cork on the wine and filled the two glasses on the table, then lit the beeswax candle in the sand-filled, reed-wrapped Chianti bottle they had been saving since their very beginning together and dragged out each anniversary.

Patti stepped out of the RV and walked to the area that Paul prepared for an unobstructed view on tonight’s sunset show. The high cirrus clouds overhead reflected the glowing red sunset reflecting through the atmosphere. Nature was putting on a special light show, just for them. Paul handed her a glass and looked deeply into Patti’s eyes. Together, they took a nice big sip of the expensive wine they bought at one of the Vineyard Tour wine tasting rooms they had visited along the way.

“Mmm!” they commented in unison at the taste of their choice of the reds, smiling into each other.
The desert was eerily quiet. Paul could only hear his own pulse in his ears. “Let’s have some music. Shall we?” Paul asked.

“Put on some Indian Sitar music. Would you play the Anoushka Shankar playlist?” asked Patti.

“It is already queued up. All I have to do is press ‘play’. I’ll be right back.”

Patti sat down in the lawn chair, crossed her shapely, silky and recently moisturized legs and picked up the wine for another taste test as the music began to play thru the RV external speaker system. The planned playlist would last all of 90-minutes. The normal quietness of the desert ensured that the music volume need not be too high to be enjoyed.

Paul came back and sat down next to Patti and took another drink of wine and passed a lit joint to Patti. “Want some?”

Patti took a hold of it and hit it deeply twice, then passed it back to Paul. The weed was gone in no time, as they quietly got high. They still had some wine to sip as the evening fireball began to sizzle on the distant desert floor.

“Remember when we used to wet our thumb and forefinger and try to put-out the sun by squeezing our fingers together?”

“Remember when sat like this along the California beach and wondered when we’d ever get to the desert?”

Somehow, they remembered these little moments and made each one happen along the way of their lives. It was the little things that meant so much to them. Paul took a drink of wine and stepped over to Patti’s chair, knelled down and settled his face into her lap as the sun disappeared below the horizon. He loved the smell of her sex and he inhaled deeply. She squeezed his shoulder muscles and rubbed his back kind of pulling his face deeper into her as he ran his arms up her thighs and surrounded her hips with his arms and hands then squeezed her bottom from the sides.

Rising up, he sought the lips he had craved kissing since they first met. Her face glowed in the combination wine bottle candlelight and what was left of the sunset. “I love you, Patti. I’m so happy that we have had the life we have had together over all these years. You have been my inspiration, my motivation and my band-aid. The Universe seems complete with you beside me.”

“Oh, Paul. You always say the most wonderful things.” She held his face in her hands and kissed him softly and tenderly. “I love you, too. I’m so happy that we chose to go through life together. Together, we tend to and nourish each other’s soul. The Universe IS complete with you beside me.”

They kissed and held each other tightly for what seemed to be a long time. Paul put two more thick pieces of wood on the fire and sat down in his chair as they both took in the sights of the fading day. The heat of the fire was warm enough at the moment, but Paul put some more wood on it just in case it took a while to catch fire. Paul slid down in his chair to look up at the night sky. It wasn’t yet time for viewing the Milky Way. He took the last sip of his wine then refilled his and Patti’s glass. He caught the wave of a good buzz and looked over at Patti. “Parkay?”

She replied, “Butter”. It was their code for being at the same level of high from the joint they shared earlier. “Let’s go lay down. Ya wanna?”

Paul smiled and stood up then reached for Patti’s hand. She placed it in his and stood up to walk back to the motorhome and the double sleeping bag, laying there in the sand. Wearing only her shorts and braless top, she dropped her clothes and sandals on the end of the bag and got inside. Paul did likewise and slid inside beside her. Together, their body heat began to ward-off the approaching coolness of the desert night air as they reached for each other inside the sleeping bag.

Their arms found their usual and comfortable way around each other’s body as their legs entwined pulling them together tightly. Their kisses started softly and sweetly but they were in no hurry for sex despite the obvious signs of arousal. Paul was standing hard against his stomach and Patti’s juices were sweetening the scent inside the sleeping bag as the Tiki Torches continued to burn at the perimeter of their blanket area. The sun was gone now and the sky was dark except for the little bit of light bluish-red at the horizon. The campfire a few yards away was still glowing brightly against the darkness of night. Venus and Mars were already visible in the night sky.

Paul traced his tongue down to Patti’s luscious and still pert breasts that she had been very careful to maintain over the years. Apparently, Patti had nerves that ran from her nipples clear down to her toes. Long ago he noticed that as he licked her nipples, her toes would curl. He loved to taste her nipples and feel them harden between his lips. She stroked his hair as he feasted and ran her hands over his back muscles. He slowly and lightly ran his fingers down her tummy and back up, then down her side over her hip and right to her sweet spot between her humid thighs. He smoothed his open hand up and down her thighs until Patti signaled her readiness by opening her thighs wider, allowing him access.

As his nimble fingers tested and teased their way between her pussy lips to dip into her lubricated slit, his lips switched nipples and began his teasing and tasting again. Using her own lubrication, he slowly rand his finger up and down her opening then widened her lips with his other fingers. His middle finger found her hot button and he ran his finger around it in a circle as Patti moaned lowly. Paul broke his nipple lip-lock and began kissing Patti’s lips while probing her mouth with his tongue as his fingers did likewise to her wet pussy. Unconsciously, he rubbed his hard cock against her silky smooth leg as if back in their dry-humping days at the beach leaving little smears of sticky pre-cum on her leg.

She broke his kiss to re-position her arms tightly around his neck and whispered in his ear, “I want you, baby. Give it to me. You always make me wait too long.”

“I only want to give you pleasure, honey … for as long as possible.” His fingers left her love tunnel and went to his lips, then back down to his cock as he rolled over Patti into position above her. He seated the head of his cock at the mouth of her tunnel. He stayed there only moving the head of his cock slightly to and fro which allowed her juices to lubricate it. Of course, he was teasing her and she loved the feel of it opening her little by little.

She wanted all of him inside her and she wanted him now, but he wasn’t giving it to her. “Give it to me, baby. Give it all to me. Please? I want you to.” She tried to buck her hips and suck him inside her, but she had used that tactic before. He was ready for it.

Even Paul couldn’t hold back anymore, but he wanted to savor the moment and carefully slipped his cock inside her tunnel inch by inch, slowly opening her with his hardness. Her juices covered it completely as he withdrew his cock for another slow ride inside. Within a few strokes, he had developed the slow, deliberate rhythm which helped them both enjoy their intimacy. Her heart seemed to stop as he withdrew his cock, but began to beat again when he pressed it back inside her.

Finally, she moaned that special moan that Paul loved to hear. It meant she was close to orgasm. It was their communication that made their love better. As Paul got to that same place he exhaled and moaned which gave her the queue that he was close to orgasm too. When she heard that, she squeezed her pussy as tight as she could against his hard, throbbing shaft and Paul began to pump faster and faster at her joy box. He fought the urge to close his eyes tightly and focused on Patti’s eyes.

The sleeping bag had gotten hot inside and Patti and Paul were beading perspiration all along their bodies. Paul threw open the top of the sleeping bag. The rush of cool, night air against his balls was all he needed as he reached his orgasm. He looked at his lovely wife in her gray-green eyes and she looked into his blue-green eyes and together they held back as long as they could, then let themselves go.

Paul exploded, spewing white hot seed inside her hot little tunnel. Patti bore down on his cock and reached down to finish her orgasm with her finger on her clitoris button using her juices to lubricate it. Paul was still pumping as Patti reached her climax, bucking and squeezing her pussy – holding Paul just where he was. As her climax began to subside and Paul began to soften inside her, she relaxed and Paul rolled over to one side and laid beside her for a second or two. Then, he slid his arm under her neck and swung his leg over hers and pulled her so close to him as he reached down and pulled the sleeping bag up over them again.

Then, they kissed as they had thousands of times before in their lives together. Their bodies relaxed after a busy day. They thought they would drift off to sleep just as the Tiki Torches sputtered out of fuel. Only the campfire was still barely glowing beyond the low bushes in the desert night. Paul and Patti rolled onto their backs and looked straight up at the deep blue sky. The earth had rotated enough to see ring of stars we call the Milky Way Galaxy. Their hands found each other’s and they held on tightly. Without the lights of the city or the campfire, the Universe was an awesome spectacle.

Paul was the first to speak. “Do you ever feel like you were born in the stars? That you are only visiting here on this planet? That we were once separate parts of the same soul – a true child of the Universe?”

Patti smiled in the dark and said, “I used to … until I met you.”

They lay awake and contemplated the Universe until sleep eventually over took them. The slept together in the desert that night, with a million stars all around. They were still naked and still in love, but Earthbound in the Universe.


-30-





Thursday, March 2, 2017

Tawny, Body-Charmer


There is a beach about 17 miles northeast of here that is known to be pristine, quiet, secluded and peaceful; also a little bit hard to get to.  Parents never bring their children there, either. It’s also an official (unofficial) but not-often patrolled Nude Beach - as in swimsuits optional. As long as your beach umbrella, chair, cooler and towel are north of the invisible county line, you should be all right according to prevailing city ordinances. In other words, if you think you’re close to that line, keep on walking - no sense pushing the issue with authorities. It may be federally owned property, but county patrols cruising on ATVs also have authority there.

Getting arrested for indecent exposure is an expensive and damned inconvenient situation - not counting the fines. There’s no pleading innocent in court, either. After all, you were caught with your pants down. They say the unwritten trick is to warn people in advance by placing a swimsuit nearby on a bush or in plain sight along the dunes. Of course, a second swimsuit would be really handy to have to quickly slip into if you see a shiny badge reflection heading your way. At least have a towel handy.  People have been known to have sex on a nude beach, but that is very risky business.

I just wanted to go one time to be able to say I’d been to at least one nude beach in my life. Call it crossing off a Bucket List item. What the heck? If true freedom is “nothing left to lose”, then lose your swimsuit on your beach chair towel and go for a walk along the beach - free balling, as it were. I hadn’t made up my mind what I would do until I got there, but once there, my Puritanical, mid-western upbringing told me to enjoy the weather and the beach, but keep your britches on. I decided that my freedom to keep my pants on was more important. Besides, I’ve felt “unimpressive” ever since 7th grade when our physical education teacher first made us take showers in the locker room after exercising. We weren’t supposed to look around on the way to the showers, but everybody did despite the warnings from our teacher that, “Boys, we’re all the same”. Well, that was a myth, to be sure ... even back then.

I did violate one of the unwritten rules of nude beaches in that I took a camera. I always take a camera. Might as well tell me to not take a cooler, towel and sun-block. However, pointing the lens at naked bodies at a nude beach is considered bad form and highly frowned upon. Never know where those images might wind-up, so it’s a good idea to not be seen in front of a camera lens or behind one. True nudists couldn’t care less, but other people definitely will. I had surfed the internet before I went to get today’s Surf Report to learn where the waves were good, tide info and extended weather so I knew today was a good day for Surf’s Up. Nobody, ever goes surfing in the nude because of the traction devices built on the top of a surfboard. It’s almost like sandpaper. Who wants to rub their nipples or their wiener on sandpaper while paddling out and waiting on a good wave? Nobody, that’s who. I thought I could get some nice surfing action while I was there catching some rays and enjoying the peace.

So, it was about 11:30 a.m. when I unpacked the car and made the trek down the required handicap accessible ramp over the dunes to the beach and made a left-hand turn up the beach toward the specially designated area. I was close to the county line, but I wanted to be extra sure ... just in case. I dropped my stuff and took the 2-piece umbrella out of the case, selected just the right spot and started to screw it into the sand as far as I could. Then, I attached the top piece, locked it in and spread the umbrella out. I set up the matching beach chair placing the cooler at the base of the umbrella and unwrapped my camera and long lens from the beach towel.

Expensive cameras hate the beach sand, so I was very careful with it. Looking around, I was pretty much the only person on the beach, but people were up and walking around north of here, kicking up water and some walking hand-in-hand in waves up to their knees. The tide seemed to be coming in, so the waves would begin to get bigger. I moved my chair out from under the umbrella into the late morning sun-rays, took off my shirt, locked the chair into the horizontal position and laid back to close my eyes for a breather and some warmth. The orchestra of waves and seagulls had my mind drifting in a short while to the point of being oblivious to my surroundings.

I woke up later and found a lot more people on the beach - some clothed, some not - some that maybe should have been, but I’m not here to judge. Life was good in the world until the Puritans came here. That’s the story and I’m sticking to it. They were feeling free and freedom is good. I stood up and rolled the legs down on my swimsuit and stretched my arms. I rolled them up before so the tan-lines didn’t exactly stop at the bottom of my suit. I’d have to roll over later to catch more rays on my back. As I stood there, I noticed a couple of surfers out among the incoming tide, then grabbed my camera, adjusted the shutter speed settings for catching action and made ready to shoot some sports action. I admired their skills in wave riding. I’d only prior experience was on a boogie board off the California shore way back when, in my twenties. Note to self: Swallowing too much salt water is not good for you.

Keeping both eyes open in order to judge the overall scene and be ready to frame the camera for the best shot, I saw a nicely shaped woman walking along the beach wearing what looked like was a knitted or crocheted bikini in rainbow colored material. Geez, I hadn’t seen one of those in ages, but she filled it out and wore it well. My camera was set for high-speed sports, so I snapped-off about 10 shots in the next three seconds as she strutted along the beach, then trained my camera on the surfer who had just caught a wave and was riding in. Hearing the noise of my camera shutter, the woman immediately changed her walking direction and came right for me. I thought I was about to be verbally and severely reprimanded. I kept shooting the surfer as she drew closer.

“Hello”, I struggled.

“Hi.” she was smiling. “I didn’t get in your shot, did I?”

“Nope. Not at all.  I’m from the Midwest and we don’t do much surfing there. Thought I’d get some sports pictures while I’m down here. I can take some pictures of you, if you like. It used to be my career.”

“Not today. I just came down to the beach to tan a little bit. My hair is a mess and I don’t have a thing to wear.” She smiled back.

“Girls always say that. I used to shoot glamour photography and all my models said that. You look really fine - great, actually. I love your swimsuit, too. It’s very unique. Did you buy it or did you make it yourself?”

“Actually, my aunt made it for me. I gave her one of my other swimsuits that fit me really well and she used it as a pattern. I wanted the design in the weave to be a rather loose weave with these large holes.” With that, she put her finger inside the left breast side of her bra top and poked her little finger through one of the holes.  “See?”

“Very nice. I suppose that makes for a more air-cooled and more comfortable suit on hot days of sunbathing, too. Huh?”

“It does more than that.” She reached around her back and untied the strings which held her top on and pulled the entire top up over her head, fully exposing her pendulous and attractive breasts. “See? My tan lines?”

I tried not to act surprised, but by enlarged eyeballs betrayed me - so did a stirring in my own swimsuit. Her breasts were spectacularly perfect - fully weighted, conically rounded and pointed with pink, puffy nipples that reminded me of a pink-colored condom tip before rolling it on. Her nipples begged at my lips, but I dare not act on that thought. “What tan lines?” I kidded. She had a non-defined white line around where the bikini top was during her tanning session, but even more interesting was her tan in places where the design holes in her suit allowed sunlight through. It was like a camouflage pattern, almost a leopard print tan. As I continued to admire her luscious breasts and her honesty, I wondered where this would go next. “Are you going to even-out your tan or leave that design on your breasts?” I felt silly even asking, but she was obviously proud of her breasts. She should be.

“No, I’m going to leave them like this for a while. I kinda like it. Do you think it’s sexy?” With that, she untied the strings at her hips and pulled-off her bikini bottoms and bent over to show me her backside.  “Check out my butt? Pretty cool, huh?”

The sun tan pattern on her butt was similar to her breasts, all right, but I responded to the perfect heart shape of her sweet little ass. “Very nice, indeed. What an interesting idea for non-permanent body art. Very interesting.”

She offered me a good long look - which I took advantage of before she straightened up and turned around giving me the total effect of her front side too. Her eyes were locked onto mine. This was a test to see if I were paying attention to her or to her body. As a model photographer, this was a lesson I learned long ago. I looked directly into her grey-green eyes which were very easy to look at. The tiny creases at their corners indicated that she smiled a lot and often. She was no teeny-bopper, but she looked much younger than she probably was. I quit guessing women’s ages a long time ago. She was enjoying who she was and that was the only important thing. Besides, she was having fun flirting. I was having fun flirting back.

“So, do you think you might think about tanning only the string lines and leaving the pattern as-is. That might add a little “how did she do that” mystery to your backless dress fashions. At this, I was assuming she how nice she might look in a fashionable dress. It was a force of habit from my former photography work. She seemed to like the idea.

“Hey, my towel is way down the beach. Would you mind if I stayed here with you? You seem nice and comfortable to be around.” At first, I felt a little weird as the word “comfortable” - as in old pair of house slippers and stretch pants. I would rather be seen as a sex object, but who am I kidding? I took it that she didn’t feel threatened in any way by being around me. I’ve always been that way with people. In my older career, people would tell me things they wouldn’t share with their own family. The mental game was calming my sexual tension.

“Sure, make yourself at home. Can I make you a frosty beverage? I have some frozen Pina Colada prepared in my little cooler here. Might even have and extra plastic cup. No glassware on the beach, you know.”

“You’re going to ply my naked body with alcohol, now? You nasty man.” She smiled. She sat on my beach blanket and helped herself to my SPF-15 sunscreen spray and rubbed it into the back of her legs and as far as she could reach on her shoulders.

“Just one won’t hurt. It’s mostly fruit juices and tastes refreshing since it’s chilled.” I grinned.

“Sure. I’ll take a sample.”

I fixed her a half-cup and I poured myself a taller one. She tasted it and smiled before downing the entire contents and thrusting the cup back to me for a refill.

“Would you like a half-cup or a full one like mine?”

“Fill me up, buttercup. After that, would you spray this stuff on my back? I’m gonna take you up on the tanning idea. Those tiny string lines just have to go.”

“Sure. Here’s your drink.” She drank half of it down like she was really thirsty, then laid her head down on the beach towel after pushing some sand underneath it to make a pillow. I went ahead and finished my drink before I started with the sunscreen. If I didn’t, I’d waste it in the sand with slippery fingers trying to nurse it little by little. I sprayed the tanning lotion on her back and slowly spread it around while pinching and massaging her muscles and skin at the same time. Her skin was so very smooth and I kept gazing at her leopard-printed tushy, which started turning me on again the longer I rubbed her skin. I did a quick touch-up on the backs of her legs that she previously missed and took my time massaging around her upper thighs under her butt cheeks. She moaned a little, obviously feeling good. Then, I took the hand towel I brought to wipe the oil off my hands before I touched my iPod or my e-reader and covered her lovely tushy so the pattern wouldn't be ruined in the sunlight.

She was quiet and I let her be. I fixed myself another drink and sat in the beach chair until my eyelids drooped a little. I decided to lay down in the sand under the beach umbrella and catch some rays myself. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep, too.

I woke up feeling great pleasure in my swimsuit area. This was a nude beach, but feeling sexual pleasure is strictly forbidden. She had laid her head down on my stomach and keeping a eye on the horizon for spectators, she had pulled down the front of my suit and her lips were busy teasing, tasting and sucking the head of my cock. I could feel it growing between her lips, but I played at being still asleep. A sudden movement would draw attention and, frankly, spoil the mood. She was very skilled with her lips, tongue and suction and I’ve never felt better in that regard. The added thrill of public exposure only added to the pleasure.

She saw someone coming and moved her face up my stomach, pulling my dark colored swimsuit up over my erection and closed her eyes as if she were asleep there using my stomach as a pillow. From a distance, no one could obviously see my hardness. She was resting on her side, so the beach strollers walked on by, but she showed them her dark blonde Brazilian landing strip bush and lovely breasts in the pose.

After they passed by, she resumed her lip actions as I bottled-up my moans. Within a short time, with her hard work on my hardness, she had finished me off and sucked-up all the evidence and swallowed me. The tension in my balls and thigh muscles relaxed as she pulled my swimsuit back up over my now shrinking cock. Slowly, she dragged her long, curly blonde hair up my stomach and chest and planted a nice, open-mouth kiss on my lips giving me a taste of myself and nestled herself in my shoulder. I returned the effort but my brain was still circling the airport. The sun was going down behind the dunes and I was alone on the beach. Couple by couple and person by person, the time had come to vacate the beach. It closes at six and the rangers would be around soon.

When I opened my eyes, the morning sun was shining in through the door window of my camping trailer. In the last couple of days, I had been visiting all the internet websites relative to visiting nude beaches. I had read all the unwritten rules and codes of conduct and was planning to visit the local nude beach today since I’d never been to one before. I didn’t want to seem or feel out of place. I also didn’t want to be intrusive by wrong action. I guess all the reading had run through my brain processors and created a fantasy for myself. Still, the dream was so real, detailed and in color that I wondered, ‘Could this be a premonition of things to come?’

I skipped my morning coffee, packed a lunch and stuffed my necessaries into my beach bag before taking shower. I was sure to use double soap on my cock and balls just in case. I put my swimsuit on and a t-shirt from the local surf shop and grabbed my car keys and headed for the beach. Time will surely tell something ... one way or another. For certain, this would be an interesting day all the same.



Sunday, February 26, 2017

Oval-faced Girl (Continued)

The oval-faced brunette opened her blue-green eyes and stared at the ceiling fan-chandelier hanging over the dining room table she was laying on following her “little death” and peaceful resolution. It didn’t often happen this way, but this time, it surely did. She blinked a couple of times and then rolled her head to the left to see her man still sitting naked on the chair and smiled back at his smile.

“Welcome back. How was your trip?” he asked.

“How long was I out?”

“Long enough for my balls to get cold while I watched you sleep.” He grinned. Sometimes she rolled over in her little sleep and he wanted to be there just in case. It just wouldn’t do for her to roll off the table and wake up in a short free-fall to the carpet.

“That can’t be the first time that’s happened, now, can it?” she grinned.

He rose and stepped closer, leaned over and kissed her now cool lips. He felt her lips get warmer as they lingered there together. “Here. Let me help you up. That can’t be comfortable for you.” He pulled off the coverlet and tongue-kissed her gorgeous nipples before tossing it to a vacant chair against the wall. There was still a trace of vanilla lip-gloss on the left one, which he took his time in devouring as she rubbed her smooth, soft hand over his shoulders and down his back to squeeze his ass cheek with one hand and cradle his face at her breast with the other. He helped her sit up and she stepped down from the table top using the chair back for balance. She cupped her hands over her mouth and blew hot breath into them before reaching down to engulf his ball sack.

“Ooh, your balls ARE cold, aren’t they?” They were tight and drawn-up against his body, but loosened under the warmth of her cupped hands. It was then she noticed the droplets of pre-cum on his now half-reawakened cock. With her finger tip, she wiped-off the drops and tasted. “Hhmm, salty with a hint of watermelon. You’ve been fruit-juicing. Thanks.” She bent down and took the head of his cock between her lips and formed a ring around its base with her thumb and forefinger and squeezed his cock toward her lips, sucking hard while trying to wring out more of his sticky stuff, tonguing the opening to get every last taste. “Mmm, I’d like some more of that good stuff.”

“Ahh, well, ... for you, I’ll keep the factory working overtime. I’m going to get a bottle of water from the fridge. Want some?”

“Nope. I’ll just share yours.”

Their dinner wine buzz was wearing-off leaving them both a little thirsty. While he went to the kitchen, she grabbed the shiny black shoebox from the chair and went into the bedroom and turned-down the bedspread and top sheet. There were a couple of 3-wick candles in the room. One on its own pedestal and one on her dresser. She lit them both and turned-out the Tiffany bedside lamp giving the room a warmer more intimate glow. She was in the walk-in closet standing on her tip-toes seeking something from her special hiding place when he came back into the bedroom. The ceiling spot light just happened to be shining down her back and accented her shapely ass and legs in just the right way as she stretched higher. He stood in amazement. He loved her body and he loved loving it because of the special woman who lived in it. Finding her hidden treasure, she turned out the closet light and saw him standing there sipping bottled water.

“Find it?” he asked.

“Find what?”

“What you were looking for.”

“Yeah. .. Can I have a sip?”

He handed her the bottle. She took a long drink and handed back the bottle. He screwed-on the cap and walked over to the nightstand beside the bed. As he bent over to set down the water bottle, she got an idea of what she wanted to do for him. It was something she had read about, but wasn’t really comfortable about suggesting it to him. It was just that their sex lives hadn’t evolved to that level yet, but after what he had done for her earlier, she wanted to give him a special gift. They never just sat down and talked about sexual things as a topic of conversation. They just had a sense of imagining things that would help each other enjoy sex for the sake of sex while they were in the throws of their passion. Their sexual attitudes never interfered before, but this time might be different for him if she had her way. Selfishly, she would be giving to get in return. She had read that her intended technique produced a greater orgasm for him and increased his ejaculate volume at the same time. She wanted to experiment the truth of that.

Still clasping her “treasure” in her fist, she bounded over to sit next to him on the bed. Her titties bouncing proudly all the way. Gawd he loved to watch them jiggle when she moved braless around the house. He bought her soft fabric casual tops to encourage it. Noticing her clinched hand, he asked her, “Whatcha got there?”

“Something I’ve been saving since before we met. It’s particularly good stuff.” She opened her hand revealing a nice sized joint of presumably ganja. “Wanna try some of it?”

“I’m no prude, but it makes me stupid. I sometimes become an immobile sponge or a fool laughing at the dumbest things. If you’re going to have some, I’d rather be on the same level as you. Sure, why not?”

She walked around to her side of the bed and sat cross-legged facing him so he could see her pussy open a little. He turned around and sat cross-legged and faced her and fixed it so he wasn’t sitting on his own balls as she lit the joint. Together, they moved closer together so that their knees were touching and slightly overlapping for maximum skin contact. She took a long hit off the joint and passed it over. He took a long hit, too and they held onto the smoke as long as they could and exhaled. Taking one normal breath, they hit the joint again and again until it was half-down before she set in the tray on her nightstand. They tried to talk with stars in their eyes but they would rather kiss each other softly. They sat quietly, tenderly stroking each other wherever they could reach. Without another word, she took him by the shoulders and laid him down comfortably on the pillow and extended his legs. She laid down next to him as they kissed some more keeping their hands busy stroking, lightly pinching and squeezing. With one hand, she reached down to see how his cock was reacting. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m good. What cloud are we on? Are we up to nine yet?”

Her mind was floating too, but as high as he was, his cloud nine visit was still ahead. She moved to give his tiny nipples a good tongue lashing. He loved that as much as she did. The more she did it, the harder he seemed to get and she wanted that. When he was good and stiff, she moved farther down, taking her time along the way. He stroked her hair until she was too far south to reach it. She was careful not to spend too much time sucking on his cock. He had already been to the brink of climax earlier tonight and she didn’t want him to orgasm yet. There were still things she wanted to do to please him. Carefully, she lavished all her attention to his ball sack - licking, kissing all around it and in his leg sockets - just like he had done for her earlier in the evening. It was particularly tasty and sensitive there. She reached up and gave his cock some more attention but only to lick around the head enough to keep him turgid.

Moving lower, she licked underneath his ball sack in that area between his cock and his sphincter muscle. She sucked on that area with wide lips working her tongue in a flutter. He let out a moan. She knew she was in the right place. She reached up to make sure he was still hard and gave his cock a slow stroke or two to keep his mind focused. Carefully, she sucked one of his balls into her mouth and gave it a good, sloppy swirl with her tongue. For fun, she began to hum a rapid scale of low to high tones which made him laugh out loud at the oddness of the sensation, but he didn’t move. It was all good and going to get better. He just didn’t know it yet.

She opened her mouth to clamp down gently across his hard cock lengthwise, but didn’t bite it. She knew it would take his brain a few seconds to process that information. Then she leaned over the bed, almost falling off, to get something out of the shiny black box under the bed. He hardly knew she was gone before she was back using her long, curly locks to whip his cock back and forth as it lay against his belly. He tried to open his eyes and smile. She was so damned pretty in the candlelight. He reached for and wanted to stroke his own cock, but she held onto his hand and said, “Shhh. Let me play with it a while. You’ve had it your whole life. It’s my turn.”  She bent down to lick it slowly from the balls to its tip and back down again before resuming her original trail underneath.

Carefully, she raised his left knee, then his right knee until his feet were flat on the bed sheets, then separated his legs as far as she could. He didn’t seem to mind. Apparently, he had reached his immobile sponge level of high. She leaned in and began where she left-off and slowly worked lower until she reached his puckered sphincter. She needed some moisture, but couldn’t manage it with a dry mouth. She licked him with the flat of her tongue leaving as much saliva as she could while her hands were busy with the stuff she retrieved from the black box. The tore open a condom wrapper and removed it, placing it on her finger as he would on his cock. She wrapped the excess latex around her middle finger starting at the tip and working down, like a corkscrew, then held it in place with her thumb.  Next, she flipped the top on the small bottle of cherry flavored edible massage oil and made sure the condom was adequately coated. She made sure to give the tip some extra lube. She also puddled some oil in the palm of her other hand then snapped the cap but kept the bottle handy.

Her left hand reached over to rub the oil over his cock and spread it evenly as she gripped it tightly while her condom finger circled and oiled around his asshole. “Oooh, honey, that feels sooooo gooood.” He seemed tense, but she was patient. Slowly, as she circled and circled, she gradually increased the pressure inward. If she felt him tense up, she slowly gave his cock an oiled stroke or two to break his concentration. Her patience was paying off as his muscles relaxed and gradually she was able to slide her lubed condom finger completely into him. His cock grew softer, but that was normal - or so she had read. Once his muscle relaxed and adjusted to her finger being there, she began to move it in and out slowly. She noticed his leg muscles relaxing and his breathing was less stressful, but still rapid. He started to enjoy the sensory experience. There came a curious smile on his face. These sensations came at a complete surprise to him.

Testing her own coordination, she decided to stroke his cock and stroke his asshole at the same time. His toes curled and his hands gripped the bed sheets, but all he could do was breath heavy and try to smile to let her know he was enjoying it. Words were out of the question for him. She watched his ball sack draw-up tighter  to his body as he was about to orgasm, but she wasn’t finished with HER fun, yet. She stopped moving and just left her hands where they were for a moment. Then, she moved a hand to his balls and gently pulled his sack back down while rubbing it, thus prolonging his enjoyment for a time. She knew it wouldn’t be long before his next spasm came. She bent over to taste the new droplets of pre-cum from the tip of his cock. “Mmm, still salty with a hint of watermelon. This is gonna be good.”

Without stroking his cock, she continued her finger movements in and out, but remembered that wasn’t the goal. Duh, where had her mind been? Oh, yeah. Now she remembered. The “P-spot” - that’s what she was after. That little walnut shaped gland that hid just inside the top side of his rectum. She added more lube and probed a little more, feeling for it. It was just a bump, but it was there. Now, if she remembered it, she needed to manipulate her fingertip in a come-hither motion repeatedly. Having no idea how long this might take, she gave his cock a little suction and tip tasting before she continued. He let out a whimper and a loud, low moan as he clawed at the bed sheets. This didn’t persuade her to stop. Quite the opposite. Now that she had found his spot, she continued to please him from within. She watched his ball sack draw up tight again and now it was time to finish it. She moved her mouth to just over his cock head and increased her finger manipulation. His stomach muscles contracted and spasmed like she had never seen him do before as he bucked his bottom off the bed. He motioned for her to remove her finger from his ass, so she grabbed hold of his cock and stroked it faster and faster until he spewed a long stream of semen, which she missed catching in her mouth, but got her lips into position for the rest of his spasms. As the force of his next expulsion hit the back of her throat, she felt she had to cough, but grunted instead to clear herself. She wanted all his sweet, hot cum and didn’t want to lose a single drop.

Slowly, his spasms subsided, but not until she had a mouth full of his man cream. She held onto his cock with her lips and savored the cherry taste from the massage oil that got mixed into the recipe. With her tongue, she swirled it around to all four sensing areas of her tongue before swallowing it down. With a smack of her lips, she smiled and went looking for seconds wherever they could be found. She took another mouth-full of his oiled cock. Now that it was getting softer, she could go all the way down and suck hard all the way up and swirl her tongue around the head a few times. Sort of a “coup de grace”.  As she kissed her way back up to his lips, she stopped to suck up and lick up the rest of his cream that spewed over his stomach. She swallowed most of it, but saved a little bit of his semen under her tongue like a little reservoir. His eyes were rolled back into his head with ecstasy, or so it seemed, but he wanted to kiss her and hold onto this extraordinary lover. She put her fingertip into that little puddle of semen under her tongue and proceeded to paint his lips with his own secretion. He let her do it as it took her several trips bsvl to the puddle and it felt good to have her touching his lips this way as she spread it all around his face around his lip area. He could smell its clean scent. Then, she swallowed what was left before licking and devouring his face, lips and tongue with her kisses to get it all. To her, that was hot!

Now, it was his turn to totally relax and enjoy his own type of ‘little death’. There was something he had to do first - race her to the bathroom to see who got to pee first. It was no contest. It was always ‘ladies first’. On the way back, they blew out the 3-wick candles and stumbled into bed. He laid on his side and extended his arm under her neck as she scooted close to him. They hugged each other tightly and wrapped their legs around each other as if it might be their last time on Earth. The lay this way for a good while building body heat. When it got too hot, she rolled over on her other side so he could spoon in behind her - pressing in close to him. Reaching down, he pulled the top sheet and blanket up over her shoulder, then slid his arm down around her waist trying to pull her even closer as he crushed his now dead cock against her ass crevice. Sleep came easy as he softly blew away her curly hair from her neck to kiss her one more time, goodnight.

Friday, February 24, 2017

Oval-Faced Girl

The oval-faced brunette with blue-green eyes sat cross-legged on the patchwork quilt covered double-bed writing thoughtfully in her red silk-bound journal. She was even using her special ostrich-feathered ballpoint pen. The long strands of naturally curly hair partially shade her face from the light of the Tiffany-style bedside table lamp. The last rays of the evening sun were dying through the window shades and curtains. She stopped writing for a moment to tuck the obstructive brown waves behind her left ear before looking up with minor apprehension toward the open bedroom door as if expecting to be discovered while revealing her deepest, darkest secrets to her red silk friend which now sat resting on her tanned and tapered naked legs; toenails pedicured and painted a deep glossy red.

She sat up straight on the bed and stretched her arms high, revealing her erect, pert nipples and lovely cone-shaped breasts as the light shined through her man’s soft, old t-shirt she loved to lounge in. Her stretch also revealed she wasn’t wearing panties, either. Her lush, soft brown, curly bush was trimmed short and neatly tufted. She never waxed, because she love to maintain it’s appearance herself and took great care in doing it. Just thinking of her own sex and its recreational purpose made her horny. She was a bit of an exhibitionist, but only with her man. The more she loved herself in these ways, the more her man loved her in return. He appreciated those especially feminine details.

A faint shadow darkened the bedroom door. “Here, hon.  ... I’ve poured you some Cabernet. I have a couple of nice T-Bone steaks on the grill. The rest of our dinner is in the oven, except the salads, of course. ... Hungry?”

“For food? Maybe a little bit. For you? A lot.” She replied with a wink and a sly grin.

“Well,  why don’t you slip into those yoga pants I like so much - the ones that hug your sweet bottom so nice and make me want to go hands-on and all over. They do wonders for my appetite too. I have to flip the steaks. Dinner will be in about ten minutes.” He handed her the wine glass and kissed her soft, luscious lips. She smelled fresh from the shower. She took the glass with both hands at first, then ran her soft, manicured hand over his. “Mmm, vanilla lip gloss for dessert.” He left to attend to dinner. She liked it when he treated her this way because it was his gift of love. Mixing food with their love making was their way of being especially attentive. It was equally true when she took charge of their evening plans. Nobody counted who took more turns. They didn’t need to keep score. It was a matter of paying attention to the needs each felt for the other.

Dinner was scrumptious - Caesar salad, garlic-butter seasoned, charcoal grilled t-bone and a steamed veggies with toasted garlic bread on the side. The first bottle of wine didn’t last long, so he opened the second bottle and poured their glasses to half-full. When their inhibitions are loosened, who knows where their love-making would go. He collected her dishes and kissed her in the process. "Why don’t you relax while I take care of the business at hand?"

She smiled and gave him ‘that look’. You know the ‘look’? The one that says happiness, horniness and appreciation at the same time. He returned from the kitchen and gathered the remaining dishes while she sipped some more wine.

“Would you like to have dessert now, or should we save it for later?” he asked.

“Let’s save it. We should really finish what we’ve started first. Don’t you think?”

“Okay. I’ll just soak the dishes in the sink and finish them later. Won’t take me but a little bit.”

She knew exactly how long it would take him to do that, so she had to work fast. She already had plans of her own. She tossed the linen table cloth into the laundry room and replaced it with an old-fashioned, solid red colored oil cloth style table cover. She dimmed the lighting in fixture over the table, then disappeared into the bedroom. She pealed off her clothes and tossed them onto the floor and grabbed a shiny black shoe box from under her side of the bed and went back into the dining room. She grabbed a small tube of something from the box and placed the box on the chair nearest her right elbow under the table. She was just finishing up her preparations when her man came back in to see the spectacle she had hastily created for him.

He was still wiping his hands with a kitchen towel and only came back to ask her if she needed anything else. He didn’t even get the words past the thinking stage as he stopped in his tracks. The down-light of the chandelier centered over the table was dimmed displaying her naked body on the red tablecloth. Her eyes were closed and her lips shined. As he gazed further south, her nipples were glistening and hard. Her arms lay straight down at her sides, but her legs were crossed and her sexy new high heeled left shoe was standing, of sorts, on the chair as her right foot hung in the air - her shoe was dangling from the tips of her painted toes and waving as she flexed her toes revealing her sexy feet. He loved her perfectly formed feet and toes. It was ‘a thing’ with him. She was a perfect fit for the size of the table. This was truly a sight to behold.

His lips were getting dry as his excitement grew but he hesitated for the moment at having more wine. This was something new between them and he wanted to savor it. Without taking his eyes off her, he tossed the kitchen towel back toward the kitchen not caring where it landed. Then, he walked toward her slyly grinning face and bent down to whisper softly in her ear. “You’re beautiful.”  It made goose bumps on her arms. Taking his time, he walked completely around the table and one-by-one, pulled each of the chairs away from the table and placed them against the back wall except the one her foot was resting on. When he came to the chair with the black box on it, he smiled and picked up the box while moving that chair to the wall. Looking back at her face, her smile grew wider when she heard the box rattle in his hands as he carried it to the chair at her feet and set it down.

He disappeared into the bedroom and returned with her ostrich-feather ballpoint pen she had been writing with in her journal. He opened the box and retrieved the animal print blindfold and slowly walked back to her face, gently lifted her head and put the blindfold on whispering, “Are you comfortable?” She nodded without words. He slowly walked over to the China hutch and took a sip of wine. He then brought the glass over to her, dipped his finger in the wine and offered the drops to her lips. The droplets quickly began to run down her cheek, but he caught them carefully with his tongue and a kiss. She had freshened her lips with vanilla lip-gloss. It tasted good. It was their favorite. He kissed her some more and made quick work of the lip gloss, licking and sucking it off her lips with the devouring passion she liked so much without touching any other part of her body with his hands. Tiny beads of perspiration were forming on the glowing skin of her bare stomach and chest even under the low lights. He reached up and turned on the ceiling fan to its lowest speed. The breeze felt good as her nipples popped up a bit harder - inviting him; wanting him to burn his lips into them.

How could he resist? He kissed her lips and licked them softly as he moved his attention to her chin, down her neck and to her right breast nipple. Ah, vanilla lip gloss again. He was in no hurry because he knew her left nipple would be equally adorned for his pleasure as well as hers. Her chest rose and fell quicker as he enjoyed his licking and sucking all around her perfect, conical breasts and hard nipples. He knew that her clitoris was also feeling a twinge of sensation through her nerve endings, so he lingered. She squirmed and squeezed her legs tighter, but she could only moan softly. He stood up and walked to the foot of the table and picked up the ostrich-feathered pen and began to slowly stroke her body with it as he walked around the oval-shaped table while trying to remove his own clothing at he same time and kicking them under the table. Getting his silk boxers off single handed with a blood-engorged member was proving to be a challenge. His cock kept getting caught in the front opening, so he dropped the pen on the table and took care of that before picking up the pen again to continue playing with her largest sex organ - her smooth, soft and sensitive skin. She smiled and laid there quietly. He was appreciating her with his eyes and his hard-on proved it as he paced around the table.

He picked up his wine class, raised and cradled her head to offered her some more. She sipped lightly. He sipped at first, then drained the glass before they kissed a long, deep and tender kiss. He put the glass back on the hutch and came back to her head. He combed his fingers carefully through her long, wavy brunette tresses and displayed it around her head like a halo on the table cloth. Against the red background of the table cover, it highlighted her oval-shaped face and her lips under the light. He walked softly toward her foot, dangling the new leather shoe and removed it. He enjoyed her totally from head to toe and often told her so, but his actions spoke louder. He waved the feather lightly over and under her foot as she wiggled her toes at the tickling pleasure. He put down the feathered pen and carefully placed his fingers strategically around her foot as if it were a glass slipper. He kissed her ankle and nibbled and sucked at her Achilles tendon before moving his flattened tongue down the top of her foot and stopping to kiss each and every painted toe. Then he turned his attention to the underside of her foot. The tasty part, as he called it. He worked up a generous amount of saliva and tongued between each of her toes generously before sucking them dry again. She felt the sensations in her groin as she squeezed her thighs tightly. As if painting a fence with the flat of his tongue he worked from her toes and to her heel on the sole of her foot, stopping once or twice to chew at the ticklish part of her arch before kissing it with his lips and tongue. She coo’d softly, still behind her blindfold and tried resisting her kicking reflex.

His balls were aching and his cock couldn’t get any harder, but he wasn’t finished with his dessert quite yet. The piece-de-resistance was yet to come as he gingerly uncrossed her legs to reveal her honey-pot - for that’s what it truly was. He removed her other shoe and placed it under the table next to the other one, then sat down in the chair, scooted closer and positioned her knees over his shoulders so that her bare feet dangled over his back. He brought his arms up under her legs, caressing and squeezing her butt cheeks as he reached toward her hands, still by her side on the table. They touched and grasp each other by hooking their fingertips together and pulled. He caught a faint sense of vanilla as he lowered his lips to enjoy her Pooh-bear prize. She tempted him with vanilla lip-gloss on her vaginal lips. In truth, he needed no extra temptation, but this was nice. This was something new. The vanilla mixed with her personal scent perfectly and both made him hungry.

With great restraint to not stand up and plunge his hard cock directly into her, he sat and enjoyed looking at her pussy. Her clitoris was hard and protruding beyond her swollen lips in anticipation. Tiny droplets of her juiciness were dripping downward toward her lovely puckered ass. He watched as they gathered there, one by one. He couldn’t wait any longer, but his passion was getting more and more bottled and ready to explode. He lowered his eyes and his face while his mouth opened to engulf her entire outer pussy lips. He licked up the center of her opening writing a big capital-T at her clit. With his tongue, he circled down the area between her pussy and her leg then back up again on the other leg before placing another, long, slow capital-T over her hot button. She moaned and pulled on his hands, pulling her pussy closer to his face as the table cloth slid down the table.

They communicated very well non-verbally. He knew what she wanted. Using only his nose and tongue, he separated her pussy lips and slowly, but with increasing fervor licked her inside going back and forth, while traveling up and down. Her hips grinding into his chin, her hands gripping him tighter and he increased his pace. Occasionally, he would go all the way down to her little pucker and tease it with his tongue tip. When she let out a sudden cry of pleasure, he circled it around and around with his tongue. His own passion was near its explosion stage as he felt droplets of pre-cum dripping from his cock head. He made his tongue hard and began poking her little pink-eye in and out going as deeply as he could. She tightened her thighs around his head and used her leg muscles to dig her heels into his back to keep him there as her hands pulled hard on his hands. Oh, she was loving that, which gave him ideas for another time.

He toyed his way back to her pussy and sucked in with his lips wide as his tongue worked hard in a circle around her clitoris. Her breathing came faster and faster almost gasping for air as her hips bucked off the table at his face. He kept working. She was close and so was he. His ball-sack was drawn up tight against his body. It wouldn’t take much for him to blow-off, but he wasn’t finished with her pleasure yet. Suddenly, her body shook and she let out a pulsing moan that came from deep inside her somewhere. After a few of those, she relaxed her grip on his hands and slower yet, released his head from the grip of her powerful legs. He was sure that there would be heel prints in the skin of his back. It’s a good thing she wasn’t wearing cowboy spurs. He licked the lather from her pussy lips and blew some gentle warm air at the wetness watching her pussy hairs bend in the breeze.

He got up from his seat and positioned her feet comfortably on the chair and went into the bedroom to retrieve a thin coverlet blanket and placed it over her. His hardness was settling down but still dripping pre-cum. He removed her blindfold and kissed the teardrops in her still closed blue-green eyes. She opened her eyes and smiled. He kissed her and she sucked hard on his lower lip. He lightly tucked the blanket around her as she closed her eyes again and drifted away in peace. He turned the light down lower and sat watching her breasts gently rise and fall and waited.

After her ‘little death’, she would wake up and thank him for a lovely dinner. He would thank her for a lovely dessert.

The night was still young.


Sunday, January 8, 2017

Patricia A. - Part 3

Today, the clock turned counter-clockwise. The last two days dragged on without conversation or confirmation of the date set between them. It was assumed. Tonight, Jack would be meeting Patricia on a "personal level" and he had mixed feelings about it. Was she really married? What would this meeting involve - small talk over a drink? It could be something, but then again, it could be nothing at all - just a drink and small talk. It could be the beginning of something good. To say the least, interesting. Jack was interested but for what reasons? He, himself, didn't really know. She was attractive, intelligent and seemed interested in him. What could go wrong?

Jack finished the monthly Supplies Report and put in on the secretary's desk for typing, duplication and distribution on Monday just as the clock ticked over to QUIT. He walked back to his office and bidding everyone a pleasant evening, as usual, a tidied his desk, grabbed his keys, turned out the light and walked out toward the door on time, this time. He usually avoided the rat race and traffic of rush hour by staying a little past quitting time so the employee parking lots would have time to empty. He felt differently about this today. He wasn't just going to the Holiday Inn for a couple of beers and some bar food while their house band played for Friday Happy Hour, as usual. He had an early date in another direction.

Gawd, Jack hated rush hour traffic, but he kept his calm and took his time by driving in the right-hand lane. His meeting wasn't until six and there was plenty of time. He wanted to get there first to scout out the place and have a thoughtful drink at the bar before she arrived. The drive didn't take as long as he thought, but he pulled into the parking lot of the upscale motel bar area and walked in. He was still light-blind as he walked into the quiet, but comfortable bar called, 'The Library Room" which was filled with comfortable burgundy leather chairs and dark wooden cocktail tables. The rows of bookshelves along the back wall separating the bar from the restaurant gave the place it's name.

Approaching the bartender, he ordered a Scotch and water. With quick service to seemingly the only customer in the place, the drink was furnished in a flash. Jack left his cash on the bar, thanked him, and took long sip while casually glancing in the mirror above the bar before turning around. Patricia was already here, sitting in a booth toward the middle of the sidewall. Startled, he raised his glass toward her and walked over to her table. Her silky white blouse was vertically striped with opaque panels in between the white so you could view her skin tone underneath and had a hand-tied bow at her neckline. Simple jewelry. She already had a drink.

"Well, I don't even get the pleasure of ordering you a drink, but it's good to see you. What are you having?"

"Gin and tonic. How are you?" Patricia replied.

"I hate to say it, but I'm great, ... now. Seeing you here has made my day. It's been a couple of days, so you've had plenty of time to change your mind."

"Why would you hate to say it?"

"Well, you know how male-female encounters go. If you show too much eagerness in the beginning it makes the other person feel like they've won the battle of the sexes without firing a shot - so to speak." Jack wondered if she would object to the battle metaphor.

"In that scenario, then Jack, what do you think about a girl who shows up first for a date? Do you feel like you've won the battle without firing a shot?" Patricia fired back with a coy grin.

"As I'm early too, I suspect we were both anxious to meet each other tonight and couldn't wait for the appointed time. We said six and it's only 5:30. Then again, I guess we both could have gotten a break with Friday night traffic. Wouldn't you?" Jack replied.

Patricia smiled wider this time, taking a sip from her glass and looking Jack square in the eyes over the rim of her glass. It was the kind of look a guy never forgets. The ultimate look of suggestion, enticement, promise and "warning" devil-woman inside. Jack reached for his glass and took another drink, this time draining his glass. As he turned around to try and attract the bartender's attention for another drink, Patricia reached out and put her hand on his. Jack turned around. "You wouldn't want to spoil the mood, would you?"

With that, she rolled-over Jack's hand, palm side up and placed a motel room key in it before closing his fingers around them and squeezed, then winked as his eyes met hers again. Jack smiled. Patricia smiled. The only question to be answered was "When?" It turned out to be rhetorical. Patricia reached for her purse and Jack slid out of the booth and extended a helping hand. It was the first time they touched and there was electricity. Sliding across the leather seats had generated a spark of static, but surely that wasn't the only spark going on.

Room #141 wasn't far away and easy to get to. Jack opened the door to the double room and allowed Patricia to go in first. As he closed and locked the door, she had slipped out of her work heels and was loosening her tied blouse and working at the buttons. Jack tossed his navy sport coat over the chair and quickly tossed his tie on top of it as he kicked off his oxblood loafers. Quickly, she threw her blouse on the first bed and worked at her skirt zipper and then her pantyhose. Standing now, six feet apart, together in only their underwear, Jack walked slowly over to stand in front of Patricia. Only inches apart and they could feel the heat coming off each other's body. They smelled each other's personal aromas - a mixture of this morning's shower soap, soft mingling of colognes and day at the office. It was calming, exciting and magnetic.

Jack reached around her waist to close the eight inches that separated them as Patricia very carefully slid her soft hands slowly up his arms to clasp her hands around his face and pull it down to hers as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss him slowly, softly, tenderly and deliberately. Jack's ears were feeling warm and his heart raced. They kissed again but with more passion than tenderness. There was anxiousness, lip and tongue sucking wetness. They were holding each other in an iron cage of arms and hands, daring each other to try and escape. Still holding the kissing, Patricia lifted her right leg and reached around behind Jack's and pulled the full hardness of him into her stomach. She moaned through her kiss.

Although neither of them wanted break up a good thing, Patricia pushed back, then reached around to unfasten her white satin bra. Jack wanted to be a gentleman instead of assuming he should do it for her. He always seem to err on the side of caution. Patricia showed him there was no need to stand on ceremony and flung her bra over onto the pile of clothes on the other bed and was about to bend down for her panties when Jack stopped her. He carefully straightened her up and looked at her eye to eye before casting his gaze down to a beautiful pair of breasts. Sure, they were smallish, but they were a perfect conical shape and stood proudly with excited nipples at the center. They fit her petite stature perfectly and proudly. Jack wanted to just stare and appreciate them all day. He reached over to stroke them tenderly with his fingertips. As he attended to each breast, it seemed to swell under his touch pushing her nipple farther outward until he pressed it's hardness into his palm and gently squeezed it. Perfect.

Her gaze met his again as if to say, "I take it you like them?" To which his smile gave him away saying, "Oh, yes. Very much so." It seemed they needed no verbal communications as each one understood the other. They came together in another kiss, very much like their first one - soft, tender and sweet. The hugs came next until they were back to the passion again.

Jack reached down to pull back the bedspread and top sheet of the bed while Patricia slipped out of her silky panties and jumped into the place that Jack made ready for her. A little bit shy, Jack turned his back to hide his hardness as he bent over to remove his shorts. When he did, Patricia bit his ass cheek. Jack nearly fell over losing his balance, but caught himself on the end table. "So, that's the way you want to play, huh?"

"No, not really, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, get in here and keep me warm."

Jack did just that. Part of him wanted to take things slowly and deliberately. He wanted to try a few things he'd read in one of those sexual technique books that were popular now. Part of him just wanted to be inside her, all the way inside her. He wanted her heat and he wanted her to feel his too. That was just what Patricia had in mind as well. She reached down and positioned the tip of his hardness at the entrance to her secret place that wanted to be fulfilled. As Jack assumed the kneeling push-up exercise position, Patricia used her tender fingers to move his penis head around and around her pussy, getting it lubricated. Once inside, he would find her dripping hot with excitement and more than ready for everything he could give her.

She motioned her hand inserting him inside her, but she wanted more and faster, so she bucked her hips and pumped him inside her as far as she could and clamped-down on his hardness. Jack moaned and slowly pulled back only to thrust forward again and pounded at her, again and again and again, until he felt the point of no return and stopped.

Patricia opened her eyes, revealing a tear of pleasure. Jack said, "I'm finishing too soon. You feel so damned good. I can't help it."

"Why did you stop? Give it to me. I want you to."

Jack gave it to her, alright, but in the back of his head, they had never talked about the pill, contraception or anything. They were just being animals about it. What if this was some kind of trap or something? As he pounded her tight pussy for all he had, she squeezed him as hard as she could waiting for her own orgasm which was coming on hard. Jack couldn't stop pumping. He was in the zone. Patricia matched his energy stroke for stroke - allowing him in and clamping down hard as he withdrew. He held it back for as long as he could. Finally, he pulled back his slippery cock and shot his love juice all over her soft belly as her hips kept their thrusting rhythm as if he were still inside her. Her wet pussy rubbed his ball-sack as she did.

Even her pussy juice on his cock and hand smelled as sweet as she did. After he finished, he bent down and kissed her hot, dry mouth as he did in the beginning. Being the gentleman that he was, he got up and fetched a warm, wet washcloth from the sink to clean the mess he'd made, while Patricia relaxed. When he was finished, he tossed the washcloth into the sink in a basketball shot and laid back down next to Patricia.  He slid her arm underneath her neck while his other arm reached for her waist and pulled her close. He body seemed cooler, but that would change quickly. As they kissed and hugged, Jack could sense that she seemed distracted.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What time is it?" She found the clock on the nightstand. "Oh shit. I need to get back. I'm supposed to be grocery shopping."

"What?! You really ARE married?! OH SHIT! What did we just do?"

"We just had sex, Jack. Where are my panties?"

As Patricia was hurriedly getting dressed, there was no reason for Jack to hang around, so he got dressed too, but he was in no hurry. There were a lot of questions filing through his mind. He wanted answers but those would have to wait.

"Just leave the room key on the table. I'll talk to you next week."

Jack finished dressing and found his shoes. Sitting on the edge of the bed he wondered, "What the fuck? Is this the beginning or the end? Or something in-between; real or imagined?" Still, it was damned fine fucking - for as long as it lasted.





Thursday, October 27, 2016

The Student Union

As usual, I waited until the last minute to register for classes. I wasn't sure I even wanted to return to university classes this semester. I was doing all right in my previous studies, but the pressures of financing tuition, books and living expenses gave me pause to go deeper into student loan debt. I earned a little bit over the summer with typical fill-in type, non-career oriented jobs, but they never pay much. In July, I got a speeding ticket which wiped out a whole week's paycheck, so I guess you could say money just got "spent". When my student loan application was approved for my second year of studies, I got the notification a little late.

I registered for Fall Semester classes, but two of them had already started. Loan approval doesn't necessarily mean the check has arrived in the Student Affairs Office, so I only bought the textbook for the Thursday class with what little money I had left - hoping my loan check would arrive before next week's classes. The first days of classes that I missed already could easily be caught up with a little help from other students. In the beginning, every student seems helpful, but competition for top grades doesn't really begin until after mid-terms.

After class, I was walking back to my car when a cute and nicely shaped, petite little girl with shoulder length, mousy brown hair called my name. I stopped walking and turned to see what she needed. I didn't know her, but I thought I sure would like to.

"Hi. I'm Jean. I saw you in class and I wanted to get to know you. I hope you don't mind my being so forward. It's hard to meet new people here. Everyone is so stand-offish sometimes."

"Yeah, I know what you mean - especially since I'm a poor boy without a full-ride sports scholarship. I'm just a regular guy. My name is Jack, but I guess you know that already. It's nice to meet you."

"I was just on my way to the Student Union to take a break. Mind if I walk with you a while?" She had lipstick on her attractively full lips and light makeup, but her real beauty came from behind those sparkling blue eyes. I liked her immediately and she seemed to like me.

"Well, my car is parked in the other lot. I was a little confused about which building my class was in. I can drive you there, if you like." I explained.

"Sure, that would be great." Jean replied. We got in my old Chevy and just as I put the key in the ignition, Jean slid over next to me and put her arms through mine and kissed me on the cheek.

I was a little taken aback. "What was that for?"

"Just being you. You don't remember me, do you?"

"I'm sorry. I seem to be in my own little world when I'm here. I have a lot on my mind - family, the war, money, the future. If I want to get ahead in my later life, I need to do very well here. How do you know me?"

"You were the organizer of last year's Student Talent Show, weren't you?"

Of course I remembered that. The Monday following the Friday night show, I was called into the Dean's Office. It seems that during a particularly physical dance number the costume top of one of the female performers slipped down fully exposing her breasts. Of course, she recovered quickly and continued the performance. The Dean wanted to know if I had seen the performance and was that wardrobe malfunction intentional. Since I had been working the lights for the special effects, I missed the whole damned thing, but I assured him that was not intentional.. Fortunately, the Dean believed me.

"Yeah, I was. I almost got into big trouble over that deal, but you weren't in the show or I would have remembered you, for sure."

"Then I saw you dressed up as a girl with a mop for long hair and balloons in your dress at the Roaring 20's Dance. That was you, too, wasn't it?"

"I guess my sunglasses gave me away - that and my summer job work boots." I grinned.

"Anyway, I like a guy who can take charge of things and doesn't mind being the brunt of his own jokes. It doesn't hurt that you're kinda cute."

"Well, thanks, but the other stuff is all a facade, I'm afraid. I'm over-acting to compensate for feelings of inadequacy." In truth, I couldn't get a date that night.

"I'll bet you picked that up in Psych 101, didn't you?" Jean said with a sly grin.

"I suppose. I've always felt that way, but since that class, I now have a name for it." I smiled.

Jean scooted closer and made a distinct effort to press as much of her body against me as she could. As naive as I was, I picked up on the clues and my body automatically reacted behind the zipper of my Levi's. She noticed immediately and walked her fingers up my thigh from the knee to my crotch and cupped my growing bulge in her hand and slightly squeezed while sucking on my right earlobe. It was all I could handle to keep my car between the lines of the road.

As she gently squeezed my growing bulge in long pulses Jean exhaled her hot breath into my ear and down my neck and whispered, "Let's forget about the Student Union. I have a better idea. It's got to be Ladies Night somewhere here in town."

My face was beginning to feel flush as a chill ran down my side. I almost stammered in a somewhat shaky voice, "Isn't it a little bit early? Most clubs don't get going until after ten. Besides, my student loan check hasn't come in yet. I'm pretty much broke right now."

"Have you ever had a dream or fantasy about being naked in a crowd? I can tell by what I have in my hand, that you would represent very well." Jean teased.

"I dunno. We just met and hardly know each other. Now you want me to confess my fantasies to you? Isn't that a bit presumptuous?"

"There you go being all Mr. Dictionary when what I'm looking for right now is Mr. Dick - not just any dick, just the one attached to you. You see, I've been studying you from a distance. I like you and I get the feeling in my hand that you like me, too. I have alternate plans for you and me. Turn right up here at the cross street."

"What about the Student Union?" I asked.

"Don't worry, we can get a Coca-Cola where we're going too, if you want." Jean replied.

Jean directed me to a two-story brick home with an attic and basement located in an older section of town near the college. On the outside, it was as normal as any other house on the block and well-maintained. I found a parking spot and we walked up to the side door and Jean pressed the doorbell rapidly twice, then paused and rapidly three times more. It must have been a code. A white-haired man in a black bathrobe answered the door. Jean asked, "Isn't this the Student Union?"

"No, I'm sorry, it isn't."

"I apologize for the interruption, sir, but Dash-Ampersand asked me to meet him here. Did he leave a message, perhaps?"

"Yes. Are you Asterisk-Percent?"

"No, I'm Dollar-Brackets."

"Of course. Welcome. Dash is in the living room." That was a very interesting entrance code. With that, he stepped back and opened the door wider to allow our entrance. Once inside, I noticed how well the room was appointed, but all in dark wood furniture and dark decor. In the foyer was a sort of locker room with lots of clothes hung in compartments with stored shoes and socks underneath.

We found an empty locker and started taking off our clothes. I took off everything except my button-down collared shirt and Jean stripped down to a sexy black lacy camisole, unsnapped the crotch, then slipped one strap down her shoulder. She pulled her arm back through and exposed only her left breast. Her breast was beautifully shaped and featured a light pink areola with small perky nipple. I immediately bent down to kiss it and reached to gently fondle it further. She held my head against her chest as her hand reached lower to caress my balls and stroke my suddenly hardened cock. Jean grabbed my hair and pulled my lips over to kiss me passionately using her tongue to explore my mouth as I reciprocated. Our tongues battled to give each other pleasure. Jean broke our kiss first.

Jean looked me in the eyes and said, "You don't have to play if you don't want to, but I hope you won't mind if I do. I want you to be the first, though. You can have me at anytime, in any room and all night, as long as you like. There are no rules except no violence or loud voices."

That sounded pretty vague, until she opened the sliding pocket doors to the living room. There were at least a dozen men and women having sex in varying sexual positions on every piece of furniture and vacant space on the carpet. Some were naked and others were dressed in sexy camisoles, bustiers and black nylons. There was a large bowl of condoms on the table and lots of wadded foil wrappers spread around. Jean looked up at me and smiled, "Where shall we begin? Do you see anything you like? It's Ladies Night. All you need do is make eye contact and smile and wait for a wink." she said with a sly grin.

"Uh, I'm not so sure about this." My mind was going crazy with all kinds of desire as I looked at the beautiful women having sex in the living room, but my dick was reacting to the messages from my brain that this was somehow either wrong or at least not my thing. True to my upbringing, having sex was always a private thing - or so he had been told. Still, my dick didn't know whether to stand up or lay down.

"Let's get a drink at the bar." Jean suggested.

"There's a bar? Where?"

"In the dining room, of course." Jean led me by the hand to the half-moon bar in the corner of the dining room which also featured a pass-thru window to the kitchen. We each ordered a drink and Jean signed a tab. No clothes, no wallets. The bartender then disappeared into the kitchen area.

"Do you come here often?" I had to ask. I wanted to know what I was - pardon the phrase - getting into.

"I have an account here, if that's what you want to know. You're my guest and you can have any thing or any other woman that you like - including me - all you want. I believe sex is like exercise, eating, drinking, study and relaxation. It's just something the body and soul needs on a regular basis."

"I guess I'm old fashioned. One woman, one man. A personal matter. Ya know?"

"Of course I do, but think about this. Can you imagine how much better you could concentrate on study and learning if you didn't have to walk around sexually frustrated all the time? Emotions can often get in the way, people get possessive and violence ensues. I've seen it many times in the bar scene. Some women get off on having that kind of control over men. I offer no pretense. Tonight, I'm yours. Tomorrow, maybe so, maybe not. I picked you because I like you. I think you are interesting. I like what you're about."

"Don't you think we're skipping a few relationship steps? What kind of movies do you like? What kind of restaurants do you like? What are your life goals and so forth."

"Who said anything about a relationship? Relationships and love come and go - someone always gets hurt when that love dies, meanwhile, we go on being sexually frustrated. Sex is a purely natural thing, a physical thing, a necessary thing. Just because I want to share my body with you doesn't necessarily mean that I love you. Love is too complicated an issue with all we otherwise have to deal with here at school. Physical needs must be taken care of. How many so called, love relationships fail due to sexual incompatibility? I know my parents divorced because of it."

All of Jean's words seemed to make good sense - at least in my hormone-altered mind. I hadn't even taken a sip on my drink yet, but all the while I tried to keep my eyes directly on hers, but I know they slipped down to appreciate the beauty of her exposed breast and her unsnapped crotch chemise. I only knew that my shirt tail was not hiding my hard-on very well. I took a sip of my Scotch and water taking in the twinkle in Jean's blue eyes. The drink felt warm going down. Usually, I was a beer drinker. I was playing a role, again.

"I think I understand. So, to you, I'm just Mr. Dick for tonight. Is that about right? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, that too. I do feel warmly toward you. As I said, I like several things about you and I'm interested in you. If you can't handle that, then you can just call me Miss Pussy Tonight, have fun with me or anyone else here you like and nobody will know your name tomorrow. You don't have to know me either, but I think you'll want to. I'm feeling good at getting to know you better. This could be the beginning of a great thing."

I smiled and reached for the back of her head and pulled her face to mine and kissed her to see what that would do. As I reached toward her pussy with my free hand, she reached for my cock and pulled it toward her. She was juicy on my fingers. Her hand squeezed my cock and her thumb spread my pre-cum over the head before she put her thumb to her lips to taste it - sucking and licking around her thumb as if it were my cock. She was again stroking me as she kissed me. My fingers were slowly spreading her juices around her vaginal lips and dipping inside occasionally to gather more hoping she was enjoying the sensations I'd hoped to be providing. We were both breathing heavily into each other's mouths as we kissed hard and faster, building passion.

I broke the kiss slowly and cleared my throat, then tried to be cool. "What do we do now?"

We left our drinks at the bar and she pulled my hand toward the nearest chair and sat me down. With no trouble at all, she climbed onto my lap and reached around to slip the head of my cock into her hot, juicy pussy and slowly slid all the way down on it and let is sit there to soak a minute. She circled her hips around to get fully seated on my hardness deep inside her as far as she could. Then, she reached around my neck to grab hold of the wooden chair back and leaned forward to kiss me some more while pulsing her pussy muscles on my cock. As we kissed, she slowly raised her bottom up and slowly back down still squeezing her pussy muscles and gripping my hardness. She kept her balance by using the rungs under the chair for leverage.  I was thinking, she felt so damned good. She pulled back, looked me in the eyes and verbalized it, "You feel so damned good and hard inside me."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"Tell me, next time. I need to know you're having a good time. It motivates me. I need to hear it." she said sweetly.

"You feel so good. My cock feels so hot deep inside you. You are so hot. I can feel it in my balls."

"Yes", she said, "Just like that."

We both wanted and needed each other so much at this point. It had been a long time since I had sex, but that didn't mean I hadn't though about it a lot. As Jean began to increase her speed up and down on my cock, she held on hard to the back of the chair. All I could do was feel the smooth skin of her hips as they moved and watch as her exposed breast occasionally bounced into my face, but my lips and tongue could never catch her nipple. Our breathing became rapid and shallow. Jean closed her eyes and threw back her head as she pumped faster up and down. I started to feel myself coming to the point of no return and said, "Slow down. I'm gonna cum." Jean took that as a clue and pumped me faster. Her ass cheeks slapped my thighs turned me on even more as I felt the urging in my balls to expel my sperm deeply into her slippery tunnel. I closed my eyes and whispered, "I c-c-can't hold  i- ...." and then exploded my long pent-up seed into her repeatedly as she continued to pump herself up and down. She was still pumping when my dick went soft and slipped out of her sperm-filled pussy.

"Mmm, that was nice", she said, as she leaned into me and kissed me long and sweetly. I'll be right back. Wait here. I watched her as she disappeared up the stairs to the second floor rooms. She had a nice, tight ass at the top of her shapely legs. I loved the way she glided and the dimple in her ass cheeks.

I figured she wanted to use the bathroom, so I tried to stand-up and walk over to the bar. My knees were a little shaky, but I made it and reached for my drink - still on the bar. I took a long sip and turned around to catch a glimpse back into the living room activities.

 By then, the previous couples had all changed partners and there were two women who must have been student athletes or they could have never been able to get into those positions loving each other. Some men simply watched the action as others decided to help the women orally in any way they could. The room was all about giving pleasure. Some women were busy trying to suck and pump new life into their men as they watched the others. One blonde woman was on her hands and knees while another woman laying on her back was positioned underneath her eating her pussy while a man knelt behind her pumping her pussy and dangling his balls in the other girls face. The woman underneath was enjoying both - sucking his balls and licking her clit as he fucked her. They both enjoyed having her there. The woman kneeling was occupied by another man's cock going deeply into her throat. For a while, they were the centerpiece of the room.

Another woman on the sofa was giving her man a hand-job while her lips were busy licking and sucking his right nipple, while another woman was vigorously licking her pussy balanced on her hands and knees, while getting her asshole pounded. It was almost too much visual stimulation. I reached around and took another sip of my nearly finished drink. I looked up and saw Jean walking slowly down the stairs. Her hair was all disheveled, but she was smiling as she walked up to me at the bar.

I looked her in the eyes and remarked, "Well, there must have been a line at the ladies room."

"I didn't go to the ladies room." Her breath smelled like cock, but I wasn't sure. She hooked her bare leg around mine as we stood at the bar. I could feel a slippery wetness of cum streaming down her leg. I looked down to see if it was really what I thought is was. It was a lot more than cum I ever produced.

"What the fuck! You come over here with me and fuck other guys and drip their cum all over my leg?"

"When you finished, I wasn't done yet. It took two other guys upstairs to take care of my needs. I told you that sexual frustration is not a good thing for anyone, especially me. I'm all yours now." With that, she turned around and bent over to show me her ass and still dripping pussy. There was something black in her asshole.

"What's that? I asked.

"It's a butt plug. I'm stretching my asshole a little bit. Some men are turned-on by fucking a girl still juicy with another man's cum. You know, sloppy seconds .. in this case, sloppy thirds. I don't think you're that kind of man, so I lubed up my asshole and put in this butt plug so that when you get hard again, you can be the first to fuck me in the ass. I want you to." She looked me quite unabashedly squarely in the eyes. She wasn't kidding. She opened her hand to show me a small packet of lube for my cock.

I was shocked. How naive could I be? Of course, it was a back-of-the-mind fantasy of mine, but I never tried it before. I wondered if I could do it. It was ... well, you know, ... forbidden, I guess. She had such a nice ass. I may never get this chance again, but ....

She saw the puzzlement in my eyes and walked over to the big tray of condoms in the center of the living room and picked out two or three and padded back toward me at the bar. I liked the way she pointed her toes when she walked and how nicely her feet were shaped. Her toenails were painted red. I'm the kind of guy who feels attached to a woman I've had sex with, but how could I feel thta way now that she's shared herself with two other guys in the same night? At least I was the first to plunge my seed deep into her pussy tonight and I would be the first to try her tight asshole. I quit thinking. It was getting in my way. I enjoyed her soft, full red lips as she licked me and sucked me back to rock hard again so she could put her favorite condom on me using only her lips. The lube would come next and I couldn't wait to sample that special tightness once the butt plug was removed.

After that night, I think I saw Jean maybe three or four times while walking across the quad, but we never did exchange phone numbers that night or shared any classes. I had dropped her off where we met - in the parking lot of the Memorial Building. I didn't even know what kind of car she drove. Since I wasn't a member, I didn't bother to return to the NOT Student Union house. Instead, I went through the rest of the semester as sexually frustrated as ever before, but I had tasted forbidden fruit and I would never be the same. I thought I could really like being with Jean, but she had this one thing that I didn't think I could be a part of. I'll forever ask myself, "Who suffered the greater loss at that decision?"   (Word Count 4,018)

~30~


** This is a creation of pure fiction. It came to me in a dream. One thing I can tell you for sure is: I'm not going to quit taking that nighttime cold medicine that gives me such great illusions.