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

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

She sat in a spot to which I was unaccustomed – as a patron at her own bar. I stood behind the counter, her usual post, studying her with nervous anticipation as she assessed with a critical eye what I considered my masterful concoction – two icy cold Manhattans – up.

The color of the libations was perfect, a burnt orange amber. The glasses, traditional, conically shaped cocktail glassware with long stems, were filled to within a half-inch of the rim. The exterior of the glasses exuded an icy sweat. An Italian maraschino cherry nestled itself at the bottom of each cocktail along with an orange peel, both completely submerged. I was genuinely nervous about the unfolding experiment and much anticipated challenge.

I’d proffered the challenge a couple months previously (I couldn’t recall exactly when) via e-mail. I’d been diligent in keeping in touch with her, Theresa, my cherished Fantasy Dom. The evolution of our relationship inspired my fawning communications. With each message I’d send her way, I’d recall the first time we’d really crossed from the realm of fantasy into the territory of Femdom/slave. She manipulated me into a date with a hair brush on my bottom. I remembered with even more excitement our next liaison, during which I’d knelt before her, blindfolded and wrist-bound, my face buried obediently between her thighs, worshiping her in oral servitude. I relived those exotic episodes in my mind as I sent her tributes, poems and silly cartoons that I hoped expressed my admiration – my infatuation – my devotion to my Fantasy Dom, and occasional Real Dom.

It was in that context that I’d extended to her a playful challenge, one that occurred to me as I sought to perfect the mixing of a perfect Manhattan cocktail. My Fantasy Dom and I both fancied ourselves capable bartenders and we both enjoyed treating the other to the most delightful alcoholic concoctions. After creating a particularly delicious cocktail for myself one evening, I wrote to her:

“I’ve been practicing and, masterful bartender that you are, I think I can create a Manhattan that will rival yours. I’ll bet you that when you partake of it, you’ll admit it; that mine is superior. In fact, it will put yours to shame. I will bury you!”

Those were strong words, a brave and boastful claim I sent her way. But I was slightly inebriated, feeling playful and confident. And maybe just a bit cocky. I hoped not too cocky.

The challenge languished for some time, lingering unacknowledged, in digital limbo. Then one day I received a phone call from my friend Thomas, her husband, asking if I’d be available and interested in filling in for him in a golf tournament at their country club. Turns out Thomas had some unexpected business in the city and was unavailable for his golf commitment. Fees were already paid, and the group just needed a replacement to round out the foursome.

It was not that unusual a request. I’d played golf with the mister many times on their course (their lovely home stood adjacent to one of the holes) and I’d even played before with a couple of the guys in the group. Thomas also conveyed an invitation from the Missus, Theresa, my Fantasy Dom, that she and I have dinner at the club after the tournament. That really caught my attention. The thought of my Fantasy Dom’s company in any situation was arousing. Dinner sounded splendid. Lustful scenes of additional extra curricular activity raced through my thoughts. It never occurred to me that the opportunity might be associated with the Manhattan challenge.

I promptly checked with my wife, Marcy. While she was most always generous with my requests to go golfing, she seemed almost overly eager for me to accept this invitation. “Absolutely,” she said, “Go early, stay late and have a blast. I know you’ll have a great time!” she encouraged.

I got back with Thomas and accepted the invitation. And then, to my delight, I subsequently received a confidential e-mail from my Fantasy Dom. It read:

Minion – When you visit for the golf tournament, bring your best bartending skills as well as your preferred ingredients for a Manhattan cocktail. I intend to pass judgment on your boasting. For superlative performance there’ll be a reward. There’ll be punishment for hubris. You’re forewarned.

Wow! She appeared all in on this, more than I could have dreamed. Her warning made me a tad nervous, but I was very much looking forward to the golf. And I was intoxicated by the Manhattan challenge.

I much anticipated the date and was thoroughly juiced when it finally arrived. I drove the forty miles to the country club and met my playing partners on the driving range. We teed off on the 15th hole in a shotgun start. I savored the grandeur of the pine forest, scrub oak and red rock formations. I joined in the camaraderie, joking and cheering within the group. I felt good about a few of my shots that were timely contributions to the contest. And, of course, I cursed the slippery greens.

Afterward özbek escort a round of beers and a brief congratulatory ceremony (my team was nowhere near placing in the top three), I drove to my Fantasy Dom’s home, a short distance away, nestled next to one of the golf course’s fairways. I knocked on the side door (privileged entrance) and she answered. She didn’t hesitate to place her arms around my neck and give me a slightly wet and not-so-innocent kiss on the lips. It lingered. It was delicious. It was stirring. I wanted it to last longer but she broke it off and suggested I shower and prepare for dinner.

I cleaned up quickly and then, as I was killing some time before our departure, I seized the initiative and took four long-stemmed cocktail glasses from the bar shelf and placed them gently into their freezer in the adjacent room. I figured I’d need them later. Just as I finished the task she entered the room and approached. She looked like she had taken a little extra care with some makeup and a flattering outfit. I complimented her but stopped short of revealing to her that I was captivated by her allure. I was putty in her hands and was pretty sure she knew it.

“Let’s go,” she announced. “And game’s on,” she remarked with her own cool poker face. “Manhattans when we return, after dinner. You and me. At the bar,” she declared with a taunting edge to her voice. It was vaguely reminiscent of a desperado throwing down the gauntlet to the town sheriff in an old Western. “You and me…on main street…at sundown.”

When we reached the car, she stood at the passenger door, obviously expecting that I’d open and close it for her. I obliged eagerly. There was no mention of the Manhattan challenge on the short drive to the club. She was flirty, poking my shoulder and then squeezing my bicep affectionately while we conversed. I marveled at her devilish feminine intuition, knowing so well how to be coy and seductive. Of course, the kinky nature of the situation occurred to me as well. She was a married woman. I was a married man. She just happened to be a married woman who possessed a tincture (or two) of tantalizing naughtiness, who had begun to explore some Femdom games with me. And I just happened to be a married man with an uncontrollable fetish to be subbed by a dominant female, especially by the one in my present company.

Upon being seated at the restaurant, she took charge immediately. She ordered for me without asking my preferences. (“The gentleman will have the salmon,” I recall she said.) It was a fine dinner, with solicitous service, fine presentation and satisfying food. During the meal she continued some light flirtations…a private wink, a secret pursing of lips, a brushing of knees under the table and the bestowment of one particular furtive touch on my upper thigh. She knew me well and was keenly aware that I found quite stirring her clandestine coquetry. And it was not so unusual. Hell, she’d teased me and touched me many times even while in her husband’s presence, a practice I found most daring. And thrilling.

After dinner we hopped into my vehicle. Again, she waited at the door for a respectful attendant and I obliged. On the brief return drive home she continued to tease me gently, with soft, innocent touches that accompanied her animated conversation.

When we arrived home, she spoke of the challenge as I waited for her to exit the vehicle. “Better get downstairs and set up the bar. You’ll have to back up your bragging. The perfect Manhattan,” she exclaimed with an almost sarcastic edge. She paused. “If I recall, you wanted to bet me that I’d prefer yours to my own. Something about burying me. We’ll find out.”

I had brought my own ingredients – some Maker’s Mark bourbon, Dolin Rouge sweet vermouth, some Italian maraschino cherries, a clementine orange, Peychaud’s Aromatic Cocktail Bitters and some handcrafted simple syrup. I brought them in from the car and set them up at the bar. I glanced in the freezer to reassure myself that the cocktail glasses were chilled and ready to go. I organized my tools. Stainless steel shaker. Swizzle spoon stirrer. Shot glass. Sharp knife. Wet bar towel. I was ready as I could be.

I stood behind the bar and waited. A good five minutes I waited, with inexplicably nervous anticipation. She finally showed up, sauntering in with a swagger of confidence, self-assurance and that take-charge aura I found so irresistible. I acknowledged to myself that she knew how to play me like a virtuoso violinist masters her fiddle.

She snuggled into a barstool across from me, as a patron at her own bar. I so wanted to impress her. I so wanted her to acknowledge that I’d risen to the challenge and created a Manhattan that rivalled her own. And I fantasized about a possible reward. What, oh what might it be?

I decided to make two drinks at once. I knew she’d be watching carefully. Right off, I realized that a professional azeri escort bartender would pour and not measure. I wasn’t that confident. So, I measured (hoping she wouldn’t be overly critical of his amateurism) four shots of bourbon, just under two shots of sweet vermouth and six healthy dashes of bitters into the shaker. I added just a tiny splash of simple syrup, just enough to register on the taste buds and a quick squeeze of fresh orange. I added ice to the concoction. Lots of ice. And I began to agitate it with the swizzle spoon. I stirred and stirred, for a good 45 seconds and then let the shaker rest. I retrieved two of the frozen cocktail glasses and placed them carefully on the bar. Their exposure to the air turned them attractively frosty. I held a strainer tightly atop the shaker and poured two Manhattans, hoping she’d think they were as exquisite as I did. After pouring, I delicately placed an Italian maraschino cherry and peel of orange into each drink.

I stood behind the counter, studying her with uneasy expectancy as she assessed with a critical eye what I considered my masterful concoctions. There they were. Two icy cold Manhattans – up. The color was perfect, a burnt orange amber. The cocktail glasses were filled to within a half-inch of the rim and exuded an icy sweat. An Italian maraschino cherry and orange peel nestled in the bottom of each cocktail, completely submerged. Here it was. The moment of truth. The Manhattan experiment was at hand.

“Dirty ice,” she ordered, before even touching the glass.

It took me a second to realize that she wanted access to the ice cubes in which I’d been stirring the booze. She pointed to the shaker with her index finger and repeated, “Dirty ice…three cubes.”

I carefully probed the shaker with my swizzle spoon and began transferring three half-melted cubes of ice, coated with the bourbon, vermouth, bitters and light sugary residue. I placed them oh so carefully into her cocktail. There was no splash. It was the gentlest addition to a cocktail imaginable. I hoped I’d earn points for some professionalism.

She scrutinized me as carefully as she studied the drink. She was intentional, I perceived, in making me more nervous. She lifted the chalice by the glass stem, held it to the light, squinted through the amber liquid and then took a long sip. She pursed her lips and engaged her full palate with exaggerated savoring. She appeared as serious as a vintner at a high stakes wine tasting.

She showed no immediate reaction. It was as though she had drunk or tasted nothing. A real poker face. She stared at me. Then she stared at the cocktail. She took another long sip. Then she kept nipping at it but said not a word. I, bamboozled by her austere persona as I was, remained respectfully silent. I matched her sip for sip, long draw for long draw. She exuded serious deliberation and created a palpable silence. She’d drunk half of her libation within a few minutes and then passed verdict.

“You deserve a reward for a great Manhattan. It is elegant. Delicious. Just the right combination of complementary flavors. It’s truly a masterpiece. My compliments.” She quaffed another mouthful, greedily this time, leaving but about a third of the cocktail in the glass. “A reward, indeed, as promised.”

“But…” she continued in a disapproving tone. “You deserve a punishment for the maraschino cherry. I’ve told you in the past that I don’t like maraschino cherries.” Indeed, she had. On more than one past occasion. But I figured it was simply a required garnish in a Manhattan up. Oops!

She sipped again, leaving about a quarter of the libation in the glass.

“And,” she continued, “You deserve a punishment for soliciting a bet from me. If I recall, you bet that I’d defer to your superior libation. I don’t bet. You know I don’t bet. Don’t ever try to get me to bet again! You deserve another punishment for that!” Again, I silently acknowledged her criticism. We’d visited Las Vegas as couples and she was completely uninterested in gambling – wouldn’t stick a single quarter in a slot. Moreover, she’d expressed her distaste for gambling. I realized that my choice of words (“I’ll bet you…”) was unfortunate.

She drained the rest of her Manhattan.

“AND,” she emphasized, her tone growing ever more stern, “You deserve a punishment for arrogance. You told me that you’d outdo me in a Manhattan mixing contest. In kind of a snotty way, I might add. As though bartending is a zero-sum game of one-upmanship. ‘I’ll bury you’ I think you said. Really? A challenge like that from a minion? You should know better,” she scolded. “Shame on you!”

She let a long moment lapse and conjured up a stern glare directly into my eyes before she continued. I was unsure if she was feigning a steely comportment or if it was genuine. I really didn’t know. She looked so serious. Her tone grew even more assertive.

“Do the math,” she instructed. türkmen escort “One positive plus three negatives. That equals…what?”

“Two negatives,” I answered honestly.

“Correct,” she responded. “Or, three punishments minus one reward equals two punishments…no rewards.” She paused but a moment before ordering, “Make us another round.”

Though my interest was thoroughly piqued by her assertive behavior, I put it aside as best I could and went about my business, trying to match the diligence I’d displayed in preparing the first go-round. Having kept up with her drinking pace, I was feeling delightfully giddy and assumed she was too. As I concentrated on my preparations, she seemed to be lost in thought, contemplating something.

“You okay?” I asked, stirring the new batch with loving attention.

“I sure am,” she answered, pulling herself back into the present. “I’m just making up my mind.” She paused again. “I’m deciding how to dispense justice,” she explained, much as a real judge might issue a sentence to a convicted defendant in a courtroom.

Taken aback and with my temperature rising, I fetched the two fresh, frozen glasses. I poured the libation. I did not add a maraschino cherry. I did drop three cubes of “dirty ice” into her cocktail. She took a long draw.

“Mmmm,” she purred in appreciation. “And I’m wondering,” she continued, savoring the Manhattan’s residue on her lips with a diabolically salacious slow lick. “Should there be two separate punishments? Or should they be integrated into one?”

I took a generous slug to of my cocktail to mask my autonomic response of a flushing face. I was too tongue-tied to respond; a tad too tipsy to think of something witty. I felt utterly at her mercy. I thought to myself, “I bet she’s got me right where she wants me.”

Her slightly cocked head, mischievous grin, squinted eye and raised brow suggested as much. Her next command confirmed his internal wager. “Get out from behind that bar. Come here,” she ordered, beckoning me also with her index finger.

“Get naked. Now!” she demanded.

To say I was taken aback by her directive understates the rush I felt throughout my body. I spoke not a word but hesitated a second too long.

“I said, get over here and take off your fucking clothes, slave!”

That got my attention. I complied with alacrity.

“Take off your glasses too,” she said, as I stripped off my underwear self-consciously. And, as I set my glasses aside, I thought to myself that she well knew that the world gets awfully fuzzy for me without my spectacles.

“Learning position,” she said. I wasn’t sure what that meant. She recognized my ignorance and so described it for me, with a hint of exasperation. “Stand tall.” She awaited my compliance. “Shoulders back.” Again, she waited. “Chin down. Look straight ahead.” It was like a checklist. “Feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind your back.”

I had assumed the learning position. And with that, she slapped me on the side of my face.

“I’ve decided. Two separate punishments. A little chastising first.” And she slapped me again, probably not as hard as she could but firmly enough to get my attention. A half a dozen times she smacked the palm of her hand against my cheek. Then she pointed to the ottoman a few steps away.

“Take the belt out of your pants and give it to me. And bend over that ottoman.” I did as she instructed, pretty sure of what was about to happen. I lay across the ottoman as she doubled the belt on itself. Whack! She unleashed it on my bare bottom. It definitely smarted. Whack! She did it again. I lost track of how many times the belt snapped my bum. Perhaps a dozen. And then there was a particularly wicked flurry of wallops with special emphasis, as if to show me how merciful she’d been with the previous blows.

“That’s punishment number one,” she explained. “Now back in the learning position.” I tried to recall all of her instructions. I stood in my previous spot, shoulders back. I stared straight ahead. Feet apart, hands clasped behind my back.

She scooted the ottoman in front of me and sat. Her head was just above waist high, directly in front of my abdomen. She reached for and sipped at her cocktail, set it down and then reached her hand in between my legs. She encircled my testicles with her fingers and rubbed gently.

“Do you know what blue balls are?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied honestly.

“Tell me,” she encouraged.

“Well…” I thought carefully, “It’s when a guy gets super excited and is thinking he’s going to cum but then, for whatever reason, he doesn’t. And then his balls ache from the…” I searched again for the right words, “…from being taken to the edge of ejaculating and then…denied.”

“Very good! You know exactly what blue balls are. And that’s going to be your second punishment tonight. I’m going to tease you. I’m going to tease the hell out of you. But I’m not going to let you cum. Have you ever had blue balls?”

“Yeah. But it’s been a while. High school I suppose. Making out with Sarah Bevins for a really long time. We both had roaming hands. But that’s as far as we got. I remember going home and feeling this ache in my balls. But, like I said, it’s been a long time.”

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

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

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

June 5, 1944 23:50

As we loaded onto the C-47, I wondered if it was going to be another false alarm. Yesterday, the weather had forced us to abort, but tonight the planes took off. I had the feeling that this was the night I would die for sure. I had gotten less than three hours shut-eye, and I floated between sleep and consciousness as we flew toward our drop zone.

I had done night drops in the English countryside over the last month, but this was the real deal, behind enemy lines. Few of us in the 101 st Airborne had experienced combat yet. That would change drastically over the next month, for those that would survive the next 24 hours.

My stomach churned. A few guys talked, but most were silent as the plane bounced in the sky. The air was thick with cigarette smoke. I fought the urge to puke.

As we entered the DZ, flak became heavy. The plane rocked heavily with the turbulence that the flak caused, and guys started vomiting. I had a strong urge to scream. My ears popped as the plane quickly climbed to a different altitude to avoid the flak.

Finally, the order came, and we lined up on the door. Funny thing about the army; it’s not so much that you obey orders. It’s more that they train you to not think, to be an automaton. You just follow the guy in front of you, and hope he knows what the fuck he’s doing.

I could hear the barking of my sergeant in the background, but the words didn’t register. I just followed the guy in front of me, and the guy behind followed me. When my turn came at the door, the sergeant pushed me out, and I was floating.

I’ve never in my life been so scared. We were sitting ducks for the German machine guns, and I knew at any second the sky would light up with their searchlights. The fall took forever; I couldn’t get to the ground quickly enough.

The ground rushed up at me, and I rolled head over heels as I landed. I reeled in my chute as I had been trained, bundling it into a ball, then stashed it in the crook of a tree.

I could hear small arms fire all around, but none of it seemed very close to me. I figured I must have somehow become separated from my unit. Of course, later I learned just what a cluster fuck the whole operation turned out to be.

The pathfinders in charge of setting up the radar transponders that would mark the drop zone had failed to set them up. The heavy flak had caused the pilots to leave their assigned elevation, in many cases, and they were dropping guys too high or, worse yet, too low to the ground, spreading them wide of their intended drop zone. And the smoke and clouds made it tough for the pilots to get visual on the landmarks they were looking for.

Bottom line, they scattered us all over the fucking place, except where we were supposed to be. I had no clue where I was, or where my unit was. I just knew I was supposed to rendezvous at some fucking burg called Sainte-Mere-Eglise.

The ground was muddy from the pouring rain over the last few days, and as my boots stuck in the muck, the water flowed into my shoes, soaking my feet. I looked around for my buddies, but I couldn’t see shit, and I damn sure wasn’t going to call out. I made myself small, hunkering to the ground, and kept quiet. After a while, I realized I was alone. My instructions, in this case, were to work in concentric circles, ever widening, until I joined my unit. I was so scared, I didn’t want to move, but I knew I couldn’t stay there.

I unshouldered my weapon and began moving as a mist fell. My heart raced, as I expected to encounter German troops at any moment. As the minutes turned into hours, I struggled to keep up my guard, trying to remember everything I’d been trained to do.

I kept stepping in holes and slipping, so when I saw a road, I decided to forget the circling routine and just see where the road took me. It wasn’t much of a road, not even paved, but the nice thing about roads is that they eventually lead somewhere, and usually have signs that tell you where you’re going.

I figured I had overshot my target to the west. If I had landed too far east, the shore defenses would have shot us before we even hit the ground. So I headed east. I stumbled along, barely awake. Suddenly, I saw something ahead.

I approached cautiously. The clouds blocked the moonlight, and I squinted, trying to see. It appeared there was someone sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree.

As I approached, I could tell that it was a kraut from his helmet. His chin was on his chest, apparently asleep. I dreaded firing my weapon, knowing that it would attract every German in the area. I slowly approached, ready to fire. My heart raced, and every fiber in my body was tight as a drum.

Suddenly, I heard a voice say, “Il est mort”.

I almost soiled myself when I heard that voice, and I swung my weapon toward where I heard the voice coming from, then back toward the kraut. Amazingly, he was still asleep.

“NON, NON, OK, Joe, Non, Non, OK.”

I hesitated; it appeared to be a young girl’s voice. She stepped from the darkness with her hands bodrum escort above her. Pointing at the German, she ran a finger across her throat, saying, “ffftt”.

I put my heel against him and pushed, and he fell over. He was dead. I guess some of my buddies had been this way earlier. I raised my weapon and pointed it at the woman.

“Non, Non, OK, Joe. Parlez-vous francais?”

I squinted in the darkness. I couldn’t see her clearly, but from her voice, she appeared to be French, a local.

“OK, Joe, OK,” she said again, as she held her hands up above her head.

I lowered my rifle, and she repeated, “Parlez-vous francais?”

“No. English?”

“Much little,” she said, holding two fingers barely apart.

“You seen any other men?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, uncomprehending.

“Americans?” I tried.

She shook her head.

“Well, that Jerry didn’t die of natural causes, I don’t imagine,” I said. “Are you lying?”

She said nothing. I used my boot to turn the kraut over. There was a hole in the back of his head. I pointed at him, and the girl shrugged, as if to say she didn’t know what happened.

Then it occurred to me that she might have stumbled on the place just like I did. I studied her more carefully. She wore a green dress. It didn’t look home-made. From the looks of it, she might have been a city girl. There were lots of displaced locals.

At the time, I thought she was an old woman, but looking back, she was probably no more than twenty two or three. I was barely sixteen, not even shaving regularly yet. I had lied about my age to enlist; I was tall for my age, and the enlistment officers didn’t look too closely, they had their numbers to make. My mom almost shit when she found out, but my old man took care of her for me.

What would a city girl be doing in the middle of nowhere, near the drop zone? Was she a member of the French resistance? Or a German spy?

She pointed at my pack, then pointed at her mouth and rubbed her belly.

“Nourriture?” she said.

I figured out she was asking for food. I opened my pack and gave her a chocolate bar. She practically ate the paper, she gobbled it down so quickly. She acted like she hadn’t eaten in a month.

Just then, the night exploded with dozens of bombs. It had to be miles from us, but it lit up the night sky.

The girl became very excited, and said, “Amerique arrivee?” She grabbed the lapel of my shirt in her excitement and repeated, over and over again “Amerique arrivee?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking her hands off my shirt.

There was a constant drone of B-24s overhead, and so many bombs it was like one continuous concussion that never stopped, rather than individual bombs. God, I was glad I wasn’t wherever those bombs were landing.

Suddenly, we could see a headlight coming, and we ducked into the bush. A motorcycle drove by, followed by three transport trucks, most likely full of krauts being rushed up to the front. So it appeared I had been going the right direction.

Those bombs had stirred up a hornet’s nest. At several locations, many miles away, there were decoy operations to divert the German’s attention from the actual landing site, but this carpet bombing alerted the Germans in the area to reinforce their defenses.

One after another, vehicles of every sort whizzed by us. In between, the woman carefully reached over and grabbed the dead man’s pack. She rifled through it, looking for food I suppose. It had nothing of interest to her, and she threw it back at the body.

Finally I tired of waiting, doing nothing, and asked the girl, “Sainte-Mere-Eglise?”

She stared at me blankly, and I repeated the name several times.

Suddenly her face lit up and she said, “Ahh, Sainte-Mere-Eglise?”

I had been pronouncing it incorrectly.

She pointed northeast.

“How far?”

She said nothing.

“Clicks? Kilometers?”

She held up ten fingers. So, assuming she understood my question, and assuming she knew the answer, and assuming she was being honest, and assuming I wouldn’t be impeded by the enemy, and assuming I didn’t get lost, I could reach my objective in a couple of hours or so. I looked at my watch; it was 03:20.

Another convoy of vehicles sped by. It was obvious I wasn’t going to be able to use this road, so I set out in the direction the woman had pointed, walking through the fields. The woman followed.

Turning, I waved the back of my hand and said sharply, “Git. Go on. I don’t need company where I’m going.”

The woman stopped, but when I turned and walked off, she continued following me. I stopped several times, but I couldn’t get her to leave. Come to think of it, I don’t know where she would have gone. Cripe, how did she wind up out here in the first place?

All the miles of walking in my wet boots was beginning to wear a blister between two of my toes. It hurt like shit. My gear weighed about 70 pounds, almost half my body weight, so I wasn’t able to cover ground bitez escort quickly. Not to mention the fact that half the German army was driving past us, and every time we came to an opening, we had to wait for a chance to cross it. When we came to a cross-roads, the girl studied the signs and pointed to the right.

We came to a farmhouse with fields of waist high grain on three sides. Someone had planted and tended these fields, so I approached very carefully, wary of dogs. I planned to give the house a wide berth, but just then another set of headlights appeared, and there was nowhere to hide. We made for the house and hid beside it as the cars zoomed by.

Funny; there were no dogs. Who ever heard of a farm without dogs. Going around the back, we noticed the back door open.

I sneaked up onto the porch, my rifle raised, when suddenly the woman yelled out, “Bonjour, il y a quelqu’un?”

I thought I was going to give birth to a turd, and I hit the deck, certain that a farmer was going to fire at us with his shotgun. But there was no noise. The woman went through the door and I could hear her stumbling in the darkness, bumping into the furniture. I picked myself up and followed her. It was as dark as a well in there, but we felt around and found a place to sit down.

“Cigarette?” she asked.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out the pack of Lucky Strikes that I had been given before takeoff. I hadn’t smoked any, afraid of lighting a match. I gave her one, and took one myself, then reached into my pocket and grabbed a box of matches.

Lighting the match, I held it to her cigarette, then lit my own. We sat there, smoking in the dark, the house shaking from the rumbling of the bombs in the distance. In the glow from her cigarette as she inhaled, I studied her face. She wasn’t bad looking. She had dark hair, wavy, and she was tall; almost as tall as me. Her face was pleasant, and she had pale, white skin.

She pointed to herself and said, “Therese.”

Then she pointed to me, and said, “Comment vous appellez-vous?”

I could tell she was asking my name.

“Ryan,” I said. “Rick Ryan.”

“Ryan Rick Ryan,” she said, repeating it.

“No. Just Rick Ryan.”

“Just Rick Ryan.”

“No,” I said, smiling. “Rick.”

“Ah, Rick. Rick.”

I had never heard my name sound like she made it sound.

I got up and looked around. The house looked like it had been abandoned hurriedly. Whoever left didn’t bother to pack much; their clothes still hung in the closet, and there were pans on the stove. It was creepy; I had the feeling whoever lived there was going to come in at any moment.

I got up and walked around carefully, feeling my way through the dark house. Opening a door, I saw stairs leading to a cellar. I pulled out my .45 and held it in front of me as I walked down the stairs.

“American,” I said, unsure of how much protection that would offer.

The girl followed me down the steps. It was a root cellar. There were a few beets and potatoes. They had been there a while; there were lots of sprouts growing from the potatoes. Against the wall were a few bottles. The girl examined them, then grabbed one.

We went back up the stairs and set the bottle on the table. The girl started going through the drawers, feeling her way inside them, looking for something to open it with. She couldn’t find anything.

I took my trench knife out of the ankle scabbard I carried it in and took the bottle from her. I poked the cork and start twisting, trying to get the cork out, but the cork just tore until I could no longer get the knife in far enough to reach what was left. She took a butter knife and pushed the rest of the cork into the bottle. Grabbing a couple of small glasses, she poured the contents into them.

I sniffed; it smelled strong, kind of like vinegar. She sniffed it, then took a sip.

“Ah, eau-de-vie,” she said.

I took a sip, and sputtered it out, coughing. It was strong. I had expected it to be wine, but it was something stronger. Looking back later, I realized it was brandy. The girl laughed and took another swig. She asked for another cigarette, and we sat there smoking and drinking, as the sun began to rise. It was 05:20.

Suddenly, the never ending noise from the airplanes and the carpet bombing got even louder, as the 14″ guns from the naval ships began pounding the beach defenses. Christ, there couldn’t be anyone left alive after all the bombs those B-24s had dropped, could there?

The constant din from the bombardment had been going on for hours, and my nerves felt shot. The fatigue and sleeplessness were taking their toll on me.

“Vous avez du papier toilette?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Papier toilette,” she repeated, making a motion of wiping her butt.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, grabbing the sheets out of my pack.

She took a couple and went outside to pee. When she got back, I went out the back door and peed off the porch. I guess she noticed me limp from the blister bodrum merkez escort on my toe when I came back in.

She pointed at my foot and asked, “êtes-vous blesse?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, understanding that she had asked about my foot.

She knelt in front of me and began unlacing my boots, then pulled them off. God, did it ever feel good to get those wet boots off my feet.

Grabbing a bucket, she went out back to the water trough. Putting the bucket under the spout, she pumped until water filled the bucket, then she came back into the house. There was some soap near the basin in the kitchen, and she used it to thoroughly wash my feet. Then she wrapped them in a towel and gently dried them.

She set my smelly boots out on the back porch. Then, turning her back to me, she reached behind her and unbuttoned her dress, pulled it over her head and set it over a chair. She used the soap to wash under her arms.

She had dark hair under her arms, like a man. I had never seen a woman undressed, and I never knew they grew hair there. I had seen the pin-ups in the barracks; Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell, Betty Grable. They didn’t have hair under their arms. It never occurred to me then that women had to shave. I was really naïve.

Her white knickers were short, above her knees, and showed a lot of thigh. She was very thin, but I thought she was incredibly sexy. She used the towel to dry under her arms, then turned toward me, giving me the first view of a woman’s chest I had ever seen.

For such a thin girl, her breasts were very full. The nipples sat high and pointed straight ahead. I stared, unable to say anything, as she walked toward me. She sat in my lap and put her arms around my neck. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Finally, I put them around her waists.

My face was bright red. The smell of her body was strong, despite having washed up under her arms. It was the first time I had smelled the earthy aroma of a young woman, and I thought she smelled fantastic.

She put her lips on mine and kissed me, then stood and led me to the bed in the corner. The bed was a thin, straw mattress on a short platform. She sat on the bed as I stood in front of her, and she began unbuttoning my shirt. Throwing it aside, she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, then lowered them. I climbed into bed next to her, wearing my underwear.

We frantically wrestled, touching each other everywhere, pulling off our underwear. Her genitals were covered with a thick, dark mat of hair. Her breasts were unbelievable, with hard nipples that I loved sucking into my mouth.

As I lay on my back, she straddled my waist, lowering herself onto my stiff dick, and we mated. When I was all the way in, she rhythmically raised and lowered her butt, stroking my dick with her pussy.

I twisted one nipple between my fingers while I sucked the other, as she pumped my dick. I was unable to withstand the attention long before my orgasm approached. I groaned as I spilled into her. She ground her groin against mine, eating every drop with her vagina.

She wiped herself on the sheets and lay next to me. We were asleep within minutes. I awoke with a start, jumping up. Something was wrong. I realized that it was that the bombing had stopped. I looked at my watch. It was 10:45. Unbelievably, I had slept for almost four hours. The alcohol and the sex must have relaxed me.

Slipping out of bed, I went to the back porch and peed, then reentered the house. She hadn’t moved. I got back into bed and snuggled against her back. Reaching around her, I fondled her fabulous breasts as she began to stir.

“Bonjour,” she said, drowsily.

As I played with her, I became increasingly excited. She laid there, allowing me access to her body. I was hard, and I entered her from behind. Because I had cum less than five hours ago, I was able to last longer this time, and I pumped her deeply.

She reached between her legs and played with herself as I stroked her. I kneaded her breasts and nuzzled her neck. She began breathing heavily as her orgasm approached, and she grunted her climax, as I sprayed her. We lay together as our breathing returned to normal.

I got up and dressed as she watched me. I’ll never forget how she looked, laying there naked, with my cum on her pussy and my saliva all over her face and breasts. Finally, she got up and wiped off my cum, then started dressing.

She took my trench knife and cut off a piece of the towel, wrapping it around my toe that had the blister. I put on my boots, keeping the material in place.

As I left, she started to follow me, but I turned and said, “No.”

I held up my hands as though pointing a rifle and said, “bang, bang.”

Where I was going, there was no place for her.

“Wait here,” I said, pointing at the farmhouse.

She stopped, looking back toward the house, then toward me. I reached into my pack and grabbed my last two bars of chocolate and gave it to her, along with the remainder of the pack of Lucky Strikes. When I rounded the corner, out of sight of the farmhouse, I turned for one last look, and she was still standing there.

This year was the 70 th anniversary of the D-Day anniversary. There were hundreds of thousands of people who had a part in that history, and for every person, there’s a different story. Few of those people had a story like mine, I imagine.

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I have no idea where this episode is headed. Let’s see what happens.

The winter was mild, by Midwestern standards. Not too much snow, not too cold.

Kim led the girls basketball team to the conference championship, and to the state tournament. She was busy and absorbed. I tried my best to be there for her – she was feeling a lot of pressure as the team leader, and was afraid of letting her teammates and the school down.

The boys team fared less well. I had an OK senior year. A good rebounder, but frankly, not much else. I sure didn’t scare anyone on offense, although I got my share of put-backs. Needless to say, our season was over before Kim’s.

Our social life suffered as the season went on. We were both committed to being good teammates, and so sacrificed a lot of time together for the sake of our teams. That made it really hard, and we tried to make the most of the time we had, which wasn’t much, or as often as we wanted. We saw each other daily in school, and usually ate lunch together. She made me feel proud taking my arm in hers as we walked to classes, but that was long before really public displays of affection were tolerated, so there wasn’t much beyond squeezing my arm or holding my hand. Occasionally, we’d steal a minute and slip backstage in the auditorium for a brief, torrid kiss and hug. But that was far from enough. After daily, grueling practices and homework, there was little time left to spend with each other.

“I miss you!” Kim wailed one night over the phone. “I want to hug you until blood squirts out your ears!”

“Yuk! Gross!” I said.

“Well, just kidding. But I do want to hug you so bad it hurts!”

“Me, too.” I said. “But the season will be over soon, and we can celebrate the state championship!”

“Oh, Dave, do you think we have a chance?” She was anxious about the forthcoming tournament.

“As good a chance as anyone else, especially with you on the floor.” Kim had had a spectacular season, and was a shoo-in for All-State again. Some were saying All-American.

“Thank you, Dave, I love you for saying that.”

“It’s true. You can eat any other player in the state alive,” I said confidently, hoping that she would feel that way, too. I saw part of my role to keep her confident in herself, so that self-doubt wasn’t a distraction. Basketball is as much in the head as it is in athletic ability. The mental game is more complex than most people understand, especially playing at the level Kim was now approaching.

“There’s only one person I want to eat,” she said wistfully.

“Don’t say that,” I groaned. It had been a long time since we had spent any quality time alone. The thought of Kim sliding her lips up and down my erection was vivid, and painful. It wouldn’t happen any time soon.

“Sorry, but it’s true,” she said. “I just want to gobble you up.”

“Please stop that, I can’t take it.”

“Sorry.”

“No apologies, but you’ll just have to make it up to me when we can.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” she said. Uh oh. Kim taking on a challenge could be scary.

“Dave?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me that you love me.”

The “L” word. In my shyness, I still was unable to muster the courage to say what we both knew I felt.

“You know how I feel,” I stammered.

“I do. But I want to hear you say it.”

“Uh, I…uh, well…” I couldn’t do it. Shyness covered me like a blanket.

She laughed, but not without a little hurt showing through. “It’s okay, Dave, I’ll let you off the hook, this time.”

“What have you thought about college?” I asked. She was flooded with scholarship offers and was protected by her parents from hordes of well-meaning, but pesky college recruiters.

“I’m thinking Duke. Good school, full ride, better climate,” she said thoughtfully. “But I haven’t signed on the dotted line yet.”

“Playing hard to get, huh?” I said, teasing.

“For everyone but you,” she said softly. Wow. That cut straight to my heart, for some reason, and my throat tightened. I thought about how lucky I was to have this woman. I thought about how beautiful she was. I thought about how deeply I was falling for her. All in the blink of an eye. Love welled up. There was a long silence. “Are you OK?” she finally asked.

“Yeah,” I choked out. “I’m fine. Really.”

“What did I do wrong?” she asked, full of concern.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I replied. “It’s what you did right.”

“What was that?” She was genuinely curious.

“For all you have to juggle, for all the pressure you’re under, for everything that’s going on in your life, you can still find exactly the right thing to say to lift my heart.”

“Oh,” now she was quiet. “I see, I think. You, sir, are the sweetest man on the planet. I do love you, David, with every bit of my heart.”

I choked up again. I had to change the subject. “Is the team ready for the tournament?”

“As ready as we can be, I think. It feels like we’re peaking. It would be so cool to hold the championship bodrum escort bayan trophy!” Her voice carried excitement.

My chance. “There’s only one trophy I want to hold. My trophy girlfriend.”

She laughed. “Well, you’ll get to do that win or lose!”

“I hope it’s win. I want that so much for you.”

“We leave tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ll be there. I’m coming down with your folks.”

“I know that, silly! They’re excited about it.”

“See you down there.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you. I love you.” She hung up before I embarrassed myself again.

The tournament was tight. Kim made the finals, and in the most exciting basketball game I had ever seen, we lost by a single point. The bad part was that Kim had an open shot with two seconds left. It rimmed out, and time expired. We were runners-up, and Kim was devastated. She felt like she had let the team, the school, and the town down. She forgot about the 27 points she scored that kept us close. She forgot about being voted the state tournament’s MVP.

After the game, the reporters, the trophy presentations, and a shower, she emerged and buried her face in my shoulder, crying inconsolably. I said nothing, knowing that no words could help, and just held her. Her parents stood by, helpless, too, to comfort their girl.

We went out for a late-night snack, but Kim wasn’t hungry. We went back to the motel, me to my room and Kim and her family to theirs. We said good-night, and I hugged her one last time.

About an hour later, I was awakened by a soft knock at my door. I opened it to find Kim, tears streaming down her cheeks. I took her arm and pulled her in, closing the door.

“What are you doing here? What will your parents say?” I asked, wiping tears with my thumb.

“Mom sent me here,” she sobbed. “Dad’s asleep. Mom and I were talking, but getting nowhere. She sent me here for the rest of the night, and told me she’d handle Dad.”

“Is she OK with it?” I asked. I didn’t relish the thought of alienating her parents.

“Mom knows we’ve made love,” Kim said.

“What? How did she find out?” Now I was really worried.

“I’m her daughter. She knows me too well. She could tell I had fallen in love with you. And she could tell that I was …different.”

“When did she figure it out?”

Kim giggled. “Christmas morning! She didn’t talk to me about it until that night, but she had it all figured out. Remember how she was always dragging my dad out of the room?”

“Vaguely. We’d steal that time to kiss,” I said.

“Yeah, well Mom was doing that on purpose!” Kim lightened a bit. “She saw how we were touching, holding hands. We were being physical in a way we hadn’t been up until that point. So she’d drag Dad out of the room on some cooked-up chore to give us a moment of privacy. She remembered finding us cuddled up and fast asleep the night before, and put two-and-two together, figuring we had done SOMETHING to be that exhausted!” Kim giggled. “So we talked about it, and I told her how wonderful it was to be in your arms, how wonderful you made me feel, and how much I care for you.”

“And she’s OK with it?” I asked, unsure.

“She sees how well you treat me. How much you respect me. She knows how you feel about me. Even though you can’t say it!” She punched me, not lightly, on the arm. “So she’s fine with it, and happy for me. Dad may be another story, but I’m pretty sure she hasn’t told him. Why look for trouble?”

“Did you tell her about the locker room?” I asked, remembering a scorching session of passion on the trainer’s table.

Kim laughed. “Uh, no. I seem to have left that story out. And she hasn’t pried into that or any other pornographic tales we have to tell.” She was smiling now. She seemed to be relaxing.

“Well, what can I do for you right now? What do you need?”

“I need to go to bed with you, and have you just hold me. I may need to cry and have you caress my brow and say ‘there, there, it will all be OK.’ I need you to just be you.”

“Easy,” I teased with mock bravado. “I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

“Well, then, off with your clothes,” she commanded. “I may not rape you, but I want to be comforted by the feel of your skin.”

And so we climbed in to bed, naked. Kim snuggled up close, and I put a protective arm around her, her head on my chest. We had no words, and while my erection raged as I felt her cool skin against mine, I wouldn’t take any initiative, knowing that, at that moment, it was wrong. There was a different magic working.

We awoke to light peeking through the cracks of the closed curtains. Morning! Kim’s lovely face looked into mine with a sleepy smile.

“Well, I got sleep I wouldn’t have gotten any other way,” she said. “Thank you for holding me. I needed that so much.”

It all welled up. From somewhere deep inside, it rose and bloomed and overwhelmed me. Here I was, holding the woman I so deeply, obviously loved. Without thinking, I blurt it out. “Kim, gümüşlük escort of course I would do that. Of course I would hold you all night long! I love you so much!”

Kim was instantly completely awake. Her eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

Caught. I tried to wriggle. “That of course I would hold you all night long,” I said.

“And the other part?” she asked.

“What other part?”

She punched me in the arm. “Why you would hold me all night? Don’t try to dodge it, buster!”

I stroked her hair. I looked into her eyes. No going back. “Because,” I said softly, just for her. “I love you with all my heart and soul, Kim. You mean everything to me.” I burst into tears, sentimental sot that I was, and am. The release of finally saying it was a catharsis, the emotion pouring out. I didn’t know what else to do but cry. Guys, you know. We’re so poor at handling our emotions. We can either get pissed off, or cry, which covers everything but anger. We learn nothing else.

“David, you fill me with surprises,” she was shaking her head. “If ever there was a time in my life when I needed to hear that from you, it’s right now.” She held me close as I buried my head in her shoulder and sobbed like a baby. She stroked my brow, but had the grace not to say “there, there.”

She laughed softly. “Is it so bad to love me?” she asked, not without humor.

“You oaf,” I responded, using her pet term for me when I was clumsy at something, which was often. “I’ve never been so happy. You fill me with a deep joy every time I look at you. To hold your hand sends electricity up my arm. To hug you makes time stop. It does! I hold you and I feel like I have sidestepped time and we will hug for all eternity, with the world frozen. I’m afraid to kiss you because I don’t ever want to stop, and fear they’ll find us months later, dead, with our lips locked!”

With that, she burst out laughing. “Where did all that come from? I’ve never heard such eloquence from you!”

Blushing deeply, I mumbled. “It comes straight from the heart, Kim. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to say it all before. But believe me when I tell you that it’s all true. I mean every word”

She looked at me long. “Well, by my watch it’s only seven o’clock,” she said. “The parents won’t be awake until eight, at least.” She rubbed her hand up and down my arm, and snuggled in close. “Such eloquence, which has made me happier than I have ever been in my life, deserves to be rewarded. Since our clothes are already off, how do you think it would feel to take me in your arms and ravish me?”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” I asked, hesitant.

She looked down. “I am. And I see you are, too.” Her smile was radiant. Her blue eyes bright. With no preliminaries, no kissing, no foreplay, she climbed on top of me and immediately inserted me into her vagina. Our experience was so limited that she had never been on top before. We had it to look forward to, but it had been so long I was sure I wouldn’t last. Her long blonde hair hung down and tickled. I didn’t care. The feeling of being in her wet tight place was overwhelming. She ground her pussy on my cock, and wouldn’t let me stroke. She had to have me as deep inside as she could, and I couldn’t back away. I held the sides of her waist, and just went along for the ride. Hands on my chest, she lowered herself to give me a passionate kiss. She squeezed her legs against my sides. She squeezed her pussy muscles and almost crushed my cock. It was an incredible feeling. Six feet of beauty seemed to be trying to fuck me to death. What a way to go.

From inches away, she looked at me almost…ferociously. She actually gritted her teeth. Her eyes ablaze. “Tell me that you love me, huh? Well, mister, I’ll show you what love is!” And she humped me with wild reckless abandon. She slid up and down my pole, grunting with each stroke. I lay there, underneath her passion, and took it like a man. It wasn’t long, however, before the end was near.

“Kim, I’m going to cum!”

“Go ahead! Don’t hold back! Make love to me!”

I took her by the shoulders and pulled her down in a bear hug as my penis erupted. She melted into my arms and moaned, climaxing, too, shuddering. I held her tight while the ecstasy coursed through me, leaving me spent. She covered my neck in little kisses.

I’m sorry,” I said, “But it’s been way too long, and that was way too short.”

She looked at me gently, from inches away. “Don’t worry. In case you didn’t notice, I had a pretty powerful climax with you, so I’m more than happy at the moment.” She sat up, and brought my hands to cover her breasts. “And besides, in my experience, with the proper incentive, you just might stay hard for another try.”

Her breasts were so firm, and her nipples hard. I enjoyed feeling them. I caressed them gently, tracing their outline. I squeezed her nipples, twisting them just a little, which made her close her eyes and gasp with pleasure. I cupped mumcular escort them and held them. My hands roamed up and down the exquisite body that sat upon me. Her body, in full view above me, was magnificent. I pulled her down and kissed her. I massaged her back as I lay underneath her, loosening her tight muscles. Still, I was buried inside her. And I wasn’t getting any softer. She noticed.

“Dave, I need you on top of me,” she said, as she came off me and rolled to the side on the king size bed. She was on her back, legs spread, holding them apart with her hands on her inner thighs. Her arms pressed her breasts together, emphasizing pert nipples. “Make me your woman like you did on Christmas Eve! Love me, Dave, please love me!”

I rolled on top and began to kiss my way down to a delightful pussy-eating session. She took my head in her hands before I had even reached her breasts. “No, not this time, I need you inside me. Now!”

I moved up, and my helmet touched her outer lips. She reached between us and guided me in. She was so wet that I buried myself up to the hilt in one quick move. She grabbed the sides of my butt to pull me in deeper.

“And Dave?”

“Yes, my love?”

She smiled. “I like it when you say that! But Dave? I love it when we go slow. I love to feel every bit of you move in and out of me. I love the intensity I feel when we do that.” She looked at me, those beautiful blue eyes boring in. She shook her head slightly, once. “But not this time.”

Our faces were inches apart. I nodded, slightly, once.

She started slowly, moving her hips against me, holding me tightly to her. I moved in response, and our pace built. She bucked and moved her feet up and down my legs as she moaned and gasped and kissed my neck. She writhed beneath me in an all-out lovemaking assault. She moaned, and groaned, and mewled, telling me she loved me, and urging me to do it harder, faster. I humped her for all I was worth, now, fucking her relentlessly, butt rising and falling as I pistoned. I pushed up on straight arms, and she spread her legs wide, holding them open. All of a sudden, the only our genitals touched. Me with an incredibly hard, wet cock, its helmet engorged. Her with a slick pussy, working her hips counter to my thrusts, each time burying me all the way, my balls slapping against her butt. The feel of my shaft rubbing her inner walls was incredible. Having just climaxed, I was ready to last a good long while. And so, we screwed away the morning, pumping like madmen. Up on my arms, I loved to watch my cock move in and out. She craned and watched, too, for a moment, then went back to focusing on the wild motions of her pelvis, head back, eyes closed, panting to the rhythm of our sexing.

From time to time I would have to catch my breath, and I would lower down and kiss her passionately. She would run her fingers through my hair, squirm her body in what seemed to be an attempt to swallow me into her pussy, moan, and just sort of…melt into me. An image came to mind.

“Grilled cheese,” I said.

“What?” Her turn to be a little bewildered. We slowed for a moment.

“We’re like a grilled cheese sandwich. I’m the bread, and you’re the cheese. We melt together and become one, inseparable.”

She laughed. “I like that image. Here. Let me melt a little more.” And she did. I don’t know how, but she did, and we came even closer together. Her kiss was the deepest I’d ever felt from her. I felt her love envelop me. We were almost one body, moving in unison. We rocked and rocked and fucked and made love. All at the same time. The familiar feeling started to well up.

“Kim, I’m going to cum very soon.”

“Oh, please! Please fill me up!” We rocked and rocked. I picked up the pace, now pounding her pussy as hard as I could.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” she said with the rhythm of our fucking. “Oh, God! I love you so much!”

“Oh, Kim! Here…I…Cum!” And I rammed as deep as I could and blasted my load inside her. She screamed and pulled me even closer, and I could feel her vaginal muscles trying to crush me with spasm after spasm. We went on like that for what seemed like minutes. We were falling through space. We were one body, one being. I saw stars. I felt myself emptying into her, my skin melding with hers along the entire length of my body. She wrapped her legs around me and tried to crush me with them, all the time her pussy muscles having contractions as I jetted my sperm. I kept saying her name, telling her I loved her. She cried and held me even tighter. Bliss doesn’t begin to describe it. Intense falls way short. I could never have imagined that sex could be so wonderful.

Then, slowly, we came down from the mountain. I was exhausted. She was panting, but smiling and radiant.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed that,” she said gently. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, my love,” I said, and gently rubbed her nose with mine.

“You said it again!”

“I’m trying to get used to it.” I said. “It isn’t easy for me.”

She pulled me close. “Keep practicing. I’ll never get tired of hearing you practice.”

I looked deep into her eyes. “I love you, Kim, with all my heart.”

“Do you, really?”

Looking deep into the blue eyes I so adored, I nodded slightly, once.

I saw tears. She hugged me close. “Let’s get dressed and go have breakfast with the folks.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
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Intro. In this story, a sequel to ‘My Wild African Princess’, James and Nandi meet some of the characters from ‘Things Get Wild In Africa’.

*****

So far we had been on horseback for over three months, we had not travelled fast, but were getting somewhat saddle weary. There was still at least another month before we would arrive at our destination in Tanganyika (now Tanzania).

We had travelled two and a half thousand kilometers as the crow flies, much more with detours, either to see something of interest, or more likely, to circumnavigate the impassable, on horseback, mountain ranges of the Great Rift Valley.

But here we were, with about three quarters of our journey completed since we had left Nandi’s home in Zululand. We had set up camp, high in the hills overlooking Lake Nyasa (now Lake Malawi). The views were truly spectacular, mountains with sheer cliffs to our left, and in front the beautiful lake, stretching to the horizon.

Here we would take short rest, before we descending to the lake, to hopefully pick up a steamer to take us to the northern extreme of the lake, disembarking in Tanganyika.

Beside me my wife, well technically anyway, sat Nandi, gazing in awe at the vastness below. “Never have I seen so much water, how is this possible?” she asked. Her use of English had vastly improved these past few months . “There are many lakes, some even bigger than this one, that stretch from Arabia far to the north, and then right down to southern Mozambique, almost to your homeland. This is the Great Rift Valley. One day, perhaps in thousands of years time, it will finally split away from the rest of Africa, to form a new island, probably one of the largest in the world.”

“It is beyond my understanding.” she stated with a frown on her beautiful face. “But I could sit here for ever, to just look at this wonder.”

I turned my head to look at her, totally entranced. We had now been together four months, and if it were possible, my love for her had only grown deeper. Although she had taken to wearing more clothing for our travels, than just her simple skirt that she had when we first met, today she was perched on the rock, with a short European skirt round her waste, that I bought in a market in Fort Victoria in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe).

Her chin rested on her knees, with her skirt fallen back to her lower body, her breasts scrunched against her thighs. It was a somewhat erotic sight, which I couldn’t but help be aware of.

Suddenly, “You’re staring at me again, you rude man, and with all that down there to look at.” she said pointing to the lake.

“I am looking down there, but it’s much closer than the lake.”

She glanced down between her legs, realising where her skirt was, and what I could see, she grinned.

“Shall we go to the stream and bathe, before I cook for us?” I had built a small dam with boulders and stones in the stream that ran alongside our campsite, it had formed an ideal pool for us, with constantly running fresh water.

With that she rose, unclasped her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. For a moment she stood facing me, with hands on hips, her legs slightly spread, and a wicked grin on her face. She moved one hand to the place between her legs, the fingers parting her labia, those gorgeous flaps, I had come to love. One finger stroked inside for, just a second. She raised it to her lips, her tongue stuck out between them, before she tasted. “Mmm, nice, but I need a wash,” with a playful grimace. Then she raced off, with a laugh.

We soaped and washed each other, quite thoroughly in some places, before we lay in the water. It was only shallow, barely covering our bodies, which in itself was quite fun, as it allowed my cock to just float on top of the water, and waft about in the current. Whilst her breasts were just buoyant enough to wave about, with her nipples nicely showing above the water.

We lay side by side, her eyes watching my cock, and I admired her nipples. “I’m going to catch a fish for dinner.” as her hand playfully chased my cock around. With an exaggerated grab and a splash, she squealed gleefully “I’ve got one!”

She swapped hands, waving it about “It’s trying to get away, the naughty thing.” Allowing the current to swivel her body round, she brought the ‘fish’ to her mouth “I’m going to bite his head, he won’t go anywhere then.” The water, being very cold, had till now ensured, my cock had remained quite limp, but as her lips enfolded it into the warmth of her mouth, that soon began to change.

Rapidly it grew in size, so that when she withdrew her mouth, her fingers still round the base, it was as a flagpole sticking out of the water. She waved it about a bit, grinning at it, “I’ve got him now, but I’ll have to make sure he’s not going to get away.”

She wriggled on top of me, her hand guiding me between her legs. She raised her hips and adjusted her aim, before slowly lowering her body. My flagpole disappeared, passed her lips, and into the depths of her vagina, escort bodrum with it’s wetness and heat.

Where the cold had previously kept me limp, it had the opposite effect on her nipples. They were as two 45 calibre bullets, pressing into mine. Her hands went below my head, to keep me above the water, as she pressed her lips to mine.

“I think he likes it in ibhentse (Zulu for vagina), he goes nowhere now, he is all mine.” she had slipped back into her pidgin English, which she always did when excited or aroused.

Her hips rotated, causing her pussy to swivel on my cock, then she lifted all the way up my length. It almost came free, but with a rapid lunge back down, until her pubis banged into mine, “No you don’t, you not get away.” As her passion mounted, the joking ceased, instead “I fuck you hard my man, please put your hands on my ass and push me down, you could play with little hole, I like that.” She had learnt these words in the past few months, she had at first used them quite shyly, but not anymore.

Her anus was exposed to my finger, allowing a quick twirl around, as she pulled upward on my cock, before trapping my finger between her cheeks on the way back down. I was ready at the next rise, and my finger just had time to press it’s way inside her ass, before she again lowered herself. She began making shorter strokes with her body, getting more rapid, even as my finger penetrated more, passed the knuckle and deeper.

I struggled to keep my head above water, she had forgotten her helping hand, as she was now into a frenzy of passion “Oh fuck me, it is time, I’m cumming” she managed to gasp. Her legs shot out rigid behind her, her hands pressing my chest, as she arched her back, her head going high. Then she started to shake, her whole body sort of vibrating, as the wave hit her, she orgasmed hard. Then “Roll me over, fuck me more, quick.”

I rolled her gently, aware of the sharp stones below the surface. Her arms round my neck, legs round my hips, she clung to me. I thrust into her. “Harder, faster, more” she shouted.

My own peak hit me then, as I complied with her demands. I could feel my cock pumping into her.

“Yes, yes, don’t sto…owwwww” as an orgasm ripped her body, and still she screamed.

For a while we embraced, resting and recovering from the intensity of our love making. “Fish got away now” she was looking at my shrivelled cock.

“I’m going to look like a prune, if we don’t get out of this water” I said.

“What is prune?” came the question.

I was stumped, if I told her it was a dry plum, she would have asked what a plum was, so I said “Just all wrinkled.”

We busied ourselves preparing dinner, spit roast guinea fowl, with ash baked sweet potato and flame grilled maize (sweet corn). Washed down with a couple of bottles of Tembo beer, I had bought just a few at the duka (Swahili for shop), in the last town we had passed through.

The sun would set shortly. It was half an orb above the lake horizon, the mists from the water, making it possible to look at the golden glow. A perfect day, in many ways.

“What are you thinking James?” She would insist on calling me James, even though, I was generally known as Jim. She had said that it was what my mother named me, so therefore, it was what she should call me.

“Oh, just reflecting on our journey.”

Although, we had not been in any hurry, it had still been an arduous three months.

Nandi had never ridden a horse before, never fired a rifle even. Nor had she been far from her own people.

After we had left our cave (see My Wild African Princess), we walked to Paulpietersberg in northern Zululand. Here, I was able to purchase four horses, and sufficient supplies for a long trek, it was going to be somewhere between three and four thousand kilometers.

I then spent a week teaching her to ride and shoot.

The riding part, turned out to be the easier, she took to the horses as if she had been around them all her life. We had begun with a saddle, and Nandi was soon galloping around, shouting and whooping in her excitement. When I suggested that she now needed to also be able to ride bareback, she had looked a little apprehensive. I was busy explaining how to mount the horse without the aid of stirrups and saddle, when she looked at me a bit puzzled.

“I think this easier,” and with that, a couple of steps, a jump, and there she was, sat high, and looking quite the mounted warrior. Which of course, she was.

I instructed her to take hold of the horse’s mane, and by using her knees, guide the horse.

She was away, and soon disappearing into the bush.

Nandi was exhilarated, she now felt as one with the horse. She eased into a trot, and then into a gallop, clinging onto the mane, she leaned forward.

She became aware of a familiar feeling, slowly growing between her legs, as the coarse hair tickled her pussy. The feeling began to grow, she soon realised what was happening. Involuntarily, turgutreis escort she pushed her hips down, and was rewarded with a rush, as her clit was now pounded and rubbed against the horse’s back. Her arms fell, to embrace the animals neck, whilst she now purposely, ground herself down.

The climax came all of a sudden, almost taking her completely unaware. Now completely lost to her surging orgasms, as one after another, raged through her body. Then she was flying through the air, to crash hard, on her back, as still she writhed.

She heard James’ voice calling, and slowly climbed to her feet. The horse was grazing, quite happily, not too far away.

He came running toward her, “Nandi, are you akay? Are you hurt?”

“No I am not hurt, but you did not warn me of what can happen with no saddle.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

She pointed to her legs, and then I saw the wetness, slowly running down, almost to her knees. It was then I realised that she was shaking, but not from falling from the horse. I could now see her sexual arousal.

“The back of horse, it is very friendly.” A huge grin now across her face.

I laughed, “I hadn’t thought of that, but it must have been fun for you. Well, as long as you’re not hurt, let’s get you horse and head back.”

Instead, she grabbed my hand, “No, I think it best, while I am all wet inside, you maybe like to play. I think that you should er… fuck me now.”

I stared at her, and then glanced at the ground.

“No ants, is okay!” She stated.

Before I knew what was happening, she had dropped my shorts to the ground. By now, my cock had naturally, taken an interest in the proceedings. She smiled, reached her hand, and gently massaged more life into it. Dropping to her knees, she brought me to her lips, until her mouth encased the tip. Her mouth now caressed me, she slurped, and then she looked up.

“You like, I think. And I like also.”

She lay back, pulling me with her, her arms encircling my back, and her legs up around my bum.

Knowing how wet she already was, I simply went straight for it. I manoeuvred my throbbing cock to her entrance, eased in, and then plunged, to sink into her depths.

She gasped aloud, her fingers digging deep.

Still not having fully come down from the heights she had previously reached, her body was ready for yet another climax, without too much effort on my part.

With urgency, I fucked into her, desperate to catch up before she peaked. She lifted her hips from the ground, as her inner muscles clenched hard on my cock, bringing me immediately to a head. I exploded inside, as she milked me, before finally collapsing down on her.

“I think we move now,” she said, pointing.

I saw the scorpion scampering towards us, they don’t normally do that, perhaps it was the pheromones we were giving off. It wasn’t the common black variety though, which only had a sting not much worse than a hornet. But a pinkie brownish sort of colour, a highly dangerous type, that required anti-venom if stung.

Needless to say, we moved sharply, me with my shorts still round my ankles. I swear the horse laughed.

A little later, we crossed into Swaziland.

“I not like these people, we fight them, but not for some years now, better we not stop near their Kraal.” as Nandi pointed to some young warriors.

We kept going, only camping far from any signs of human activity, and soon we were at Bulembu, before entering South African territory.

The journey from there, up through Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), was uneventful. On passed Bulawayo, Salisbury (now Harare), and to the Mozambique border at Nyampanda. I would have liked to have taken Nandi to the Victoria Falls, but it was too far out of our way.

We crossed the River Zambezi at Tete, and it was here, that I made my first mistake. Instead of sticking to the main road heading north, I went north east, towards where we are now, by Lake Nyasa.

We were in the process of setting up evening camp, when Nandi stiffened. She stood quite still, just listening.

“Get guns ready, I think trouble coming.” she said.

Her natural hunting skills, had picked up on some natives making a stealthy approach, instead of the normal open and friendly way, that they normally would.

A bang, and then a bullet kicked up dust, close to where I lay. I rolled and fired, at the same time as Nandi. We weren’t really aiming for anything, we couldn’t see anyone, but it was better to let them know we were armed and ready.

I heard a sound behind, and turned, in time to see a scruffy native, charging towards Nandi. He had his panga (wide bladed African machete) raised, ready to strike. My blood went cold, thinking I may be too late, I spun my rifle round and fired without any proper aim, my bullet caught him in the shoulder. As he began to spin round, Nandi had thrown her short spear, it took him, dead centre of his bodrum escort chest. He fell, quite dead, of that I was certain.

We both then scanned the low bush, but nothing moved.

“They gone.” she said.

I checked the guy out. Probably Mozambique rebels after our horses, I guessed.

I decided, we shouldn’t camp here after all. So we packed up and moved on, to eventually arrive where we are now, looking down on the lake below.

A few days later, we caught the steamer, horses and all, and were soon enjoying a pleasant voyage, almost the full length of Lake Nyasa. Nandi was astounded at such a huge ‘house’ floating on water.

We disembarked at Kyele in Tanganyika, the country of our destination.

The remainder of our journey went by without a hitch, and soon we were approaching Mpwapwa (pronounced Mm-pap-wa). This was the nearest town to where my friends lived.

After finding the hotel, we were washed and refreshed, had a good meal, and a couple of ice cold beers. It was the first time Nandi had ever seen a proper bed, and a double size at that. “Too soft, but I like it, we test tonight, it has good bounce!” was all she said.

The next morning, we set off for Dave ‘Jock’ Grant’s place. I knew Jock, his wife Liz and son Peter, from the time I had been working in the Serengeti National Parks area. It had been four years, since I last saw them.

Nandi was very apprehensive, and looked extremely worried. She had of course, never met any of my friends. And here I was, turning up with a native wife.

As we arrived at the small cluster of homes, we saw three girls, two white and one black, stand from their bench, wondering at who was arriving on horseback.

Suddenly, as I dismounted, one squealed, and rushed at me. “Uncle Jim!” she shouted “Mary, it’s Uncle Jim!”

Jane and Mary both hugged me tight. (See ‘Things Get Wild In Africa’).

I stood back to look at the two girls. “My god, you’ve all grown up, since I was here last.”

“Come here Aysha, and meet Uncle Jim. This is my girlfriend Uncle.”

“Jambo bwana Jim, habari yako?” (Swahili – hello Mr Jim, how are you).

“Nzuri, asante sana.” (good, thank you).

Jane turned to look up at the still mounted Nandi. “Hey! And who’s this gorgeous lady?”

“This is my wife, Nandi.” I beamed.

But it hadn’t escaped me noticing, the frown that had crossed Aysha’s face, at Jane’s referring to Nandi as gorgeous. Neither did it Nandi, as she briefly glanced coldly at her. But she did return, both Jane and Mary’s warm smiles with her own, as they said hello.

Jane made matters worse, “Wow!” What a smile, you have a beautiful wife.”

Mary seemed to realise the frostiness between the two black girls, that Jane was creating.

So she jumped in, “I guess you’ve come to see Jock and Liz, but I’m afraid you’re out of luck, they’re away on holiday in Dar-es-salaam, but our dad will be home a bit later.”

“What about Pete, where’s he?” I asked.

“He joined the army back in the UK, he’s married now, to Mandi, you remember her?”” Mary answered.

For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What Pete and our little Mandi married, how did that happen?”

“Well its kind off a long story, maybe we’ll tell you sometime.” with a saucy grin. “Anyway, why have you got two extra horses with you?”

“Oh, it’s just habit I suppose, dunno really.” I replied.

“Guys, we’ve got a few hours to kill until dad gets home, why don’t we ride out to the lake, and kill some time? If that’s alright with you Uncle Jim.”

“Hey, stop calling me Uncle, you’re all grown up now, Jim is okay, right, and I’m not your uncle anyway, just a family friend,”

“Yeah, whatever, Uncle.” grinned Jane.

“Any of you guys ever ridden before?” I asked.

Mary said that she’d had a few lessons at school, but none of the others had

“In that case, we’ll double up, one with me, and one with Nandi, and Mary on her own.”

Before the blink of an eye, Jane was up behind Nandi. Mary mounted another horse, none too steadily. Leaving Aysha glaring at Jane. I held my hand to her, and with a face like stone, she raised her foot to the stirrup, and she was sat behind me.

She held onto me, as if I were made of glass, I could barely feel her touch.

In due course, we dismounted at the lake, tethered the horses, and climbed the rock that Mary indicated.

I loved the place, it was really totally tranquil.

Mary sat one side of me, Nandi the other. Then Jane and Aysha next to her.

For a while we just chatted, until Nandi gave me a little nudge. I glanced round, she pointed with her chin, and I was startled to see Jane’s toes were rubbing Nandi’s leg.

The next thing, well, mayhem. Aysha slapped Jane, quite hard across the face, and very quickly, tried to follow with a slap to Nandi. Naturally, Nandi was far too quick for her, she easily caught Aysha’s hand, and with just a twist, the girl was flat on her back.

Nandi stood, glaring at the girl, mouthing something in her Zulu language, what I have no idea.

Thinking that would be that, I was surprised when Aysha stood, and then charged at Nandi, colliding hard, to take them both to the ground.

I rose to intervene, but saw Nandi shake her head at me, as the two girls wrestled together.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My senior year at high school would see me turn eighteen years old. As a youth I spent my time developing. I developed my body, my interests, my goals, my likes and my dislikes. Others around me helped to shape my ideas and thoughts but I knew that I was independent. My journey in life would be one of the pursuits of a hedonistic lifestyle, balanced with health and emotion.

Following the celebration and pageantry of my eighteenth birthday I set out on this journey. My mentor had been my mother’s hairdresser Gloria. Gloria was a beautiful single 32 year old woman that I met when she was 24 and starting out in business. On Saturday mornings Gloria would pay me to do odd jobs around her house and clean the yard. She would frolic with her clients throughout the day preparing for whatever social gathering was planned for that night. Sunday’s as I cleaned the pool I would hear the stories from the parties the night before. Sometimes when the event was at Gloria’s I would see the remnants of the night before.

Today I awoke to Gloria and my mother having coffee at the kitchen table. The way Gloria talked with such a sexy throaty voice stirred my loins. Waking up with a stiff morning hard on listening to her made me reach below the covers. The initial sense of satisfaction I felt from stroking my cock was heightened by their conversation. As I slowly rubbed my throbbing dick I was entranced to hear Gloria talking about me. She was asking my mother if I was still a virgin. My mother responded with bewilderment. Gloria pressed on citing examples of my dad’s hijinks at the Cole’s pool parties. From what I could tell my dad showed off his endowment at these parties. It was something that I was shy about in the change rooms and around the pool. I stroked my cock and came in a sock then jumping up to prepare for a shower and lunch.

As I came into the kitchen the room was silent. Had the cat caught the mice at play I thought. I went to the cupboard to make a sandwich. I was dressed normally with a jock strap that cupped my balls and held my cock tight to my body over which I wore spandex tights and cotton work out shorts. The ladies started to jabber away at me. I indulged their mid age prodding but I couldn’t help notice Gloria checking out my shirtless chest. At 18 I had filled out at 6’3″ and 190 lbs. keeping in shape playing very competitive hockey, baseball in the summer, and always in the weight room. We had a good laugh.

Gloria persisted in asking me if I had gotten lucky for my birthday. Blushing I told her that I was more focused on the party and doing well in school but I did have lots of kisses from the girls. As I readied to meet up with my friend Jim; Gloria enquired if I was available to help her late in the day. She had some client bookings through the afternoon and would need me by 5:00 PM. As she talked with me her intent gaze and seductive mannerisms caused me to blush and look away. Gloria was a regular jack off image for me. She was 5’8″ and about 130 lbs. She had firm breasts and a pert little ass.

After my fun physical day I made my way to Gloria’s. I made fast work with the few things that she needed done. She was always so appreciative giving me hugs I thought of her like an aunt. She told me that Norma would be along soon for a waxing treatment soon but I could go for a swim in her pool. I politely declined as I had on only work out clothes. She indicated that would be no problem that in the pool house was as selection of trunks and the blue pair was my dad’s. I loved the fact that she let me swim in her pool. In the summer it was so refreshing. She would often lounge around or take a swim herself. Once when Jim and I were both in swimming she bodrum escort asked me to cover her back in lotion. Jim thought that was so cool.

Off to the pool hut I went to find a pair of swim trunks. I slipped into the blue pair that my father used. They were the Speedo kind and the length of my dong was clearly visible. As I put them back I heard Gloria checking that I was ready. I was startled so I jumped into a big pair of swim shorts as she walked in. I think she caught a glimpse of my bare ass as she walked in. A little embarrassed I asked her what she wanted. She said that since I was swimming she would launder my clothes so when I left I would smell fresh. As startled that I was; I handed over my clothes. She bounced into the house as I jumped off the diving board.

After a few dives I felt like playing a little game. I would start at one end and swim underwater as far as I could. After I tired of this I started to swim laps. This felt so great but it was getting on in the evening and I should catch up with the guys. We were going to go cruising tonight.

I got out of the pool and went to shower and change. In the pool house was a nice fluffy towel to dry off but Gloria forgot to return my clothes. I thought it best to cover up with the towel and go inside. As I made my way inside I was startled to see Norma naked on the treatment table with Gloria between her legs. I didn’t even see Norma come in Norma is a trophy wife to Leo my dad’s best friend. Norma is well made up, wears lots of diamonds and is always got her hair done and wearing nice clothes. Norma had large brown nipple that sat firm on chest. She is over 40 and still in great shape. They must not have heard me come in but as I approached Gloria tore a sheet from between Norma’s legs. My God Norma must be getting her pussy waxed. I had heard about women shaving but I couldn’t imagine that. I retreated out the back door to the pool house. I sprinkled a little water on my hair to make it look wet again and noisily made my way to the house.

As I came bounding up the stairs Gloria passed going to the laundry room. Gloria stopped me and said I should jump in the barbers chair for a quick trim. I did as was told and got up for the trim. I like to keep my hair neat and knowing Gloria sure helped that. Gloria returned with my folded clothes and placed them on the counter. Having Gloria cut my hair was sheer ecstasy. She ran her hands trough my hair as her hard firm mounds pressed against my back I had to keep my hands out of my lap for fear of arousing my cock. As my arm sat on the armrest it seemed that Gloria would slide the v of her cleft into my elbow. The whole time she would talk to me about my plans for the night, my future, what girls did I like typical hairdresser chat but it teased me like hell. Then she asked me why I wear all these clothes she had laundered. I explained that an athlete needs support and can perspire excessively and it was also for comfort. She told me that lots of her boyfriends played sports but it was only me and my dad that dressed like that. I knew where this was headed.

Gloria finished up and offered to show me the latest in treatments that she had been training for. As we were about to go into the treatment room I asked about Norma. Gloria replied back to me that she had left following her treatment. She also enquired how I knew Norma was here as Norma had entered when I was underwater and didn’t greet her arrival. I think I may have gotten caught but I mumbled a poor excuse. Up onto the table I got under the sheet. Gloria explained that she was going to perform a sweedish style massage. She turned on some background music and gümbet escort lit incense.

Gloria began by lowering the sheet to my waist and working my back. She talked more about sex and my virginity. She mentioned that since I helped her she could help me learn how to pick up girls. My back felt great as she moved the sheet to expose my leg. Working up my leg she caressed my inner thigh. I knew she could see my hairy ball sack. Her talk subsided as she rubbed my other leg and prepared to do the front. My cock was hard from the stimulation she was providing I worried how I was going to turnover

Gloria held up the sheet and gave me the privacy to turnover. What a relief but the massive bulge would be evident through the thin white sheet. My cock when hard reaches at least past my belly button. Gloria worked my legs all the way up to the ball sack. Caressing my inner thigh Gloria enquired why I didn’t shave the hair on my genitals. I jokingly told that I was not so good with a razor. She said nonsense that is why an esthetician is trained. Gloria then went to work on my chest; the playground as I told my girlfriends. Gloria then asked me whether I or my girlfriends had oral sex or masturbated. I told her that I love to masturbate but I would never tell my girlfriends As Gloria went along she noted that my nipples were very sensitive like a women’s. I told her that is why it is called the playground. As Gloria worked down my abs and delts I knew the top of my penis was visible. Abruptly Gloria questioned me “If she should just finish me off. I agreed this would prevent me any further embarrassment.

At this point Gloria went to the sink. She was preparing some treatment. She came back and took each ankle and moved it out to a Velcro strap on the edge of the treatment table. With my hands at my side she then strapped them to the table. Gloria told me this would facilitate her treatment to fish me off and the she removed the sheet to expose my rock hard cock.

She was impressed. She commented on how big it was. I told her it was at least a couple handfuls. She said she just had to measure it. No sooner does she have a measuring tape like a tailor than she runs it up my shaft from the pubic bone to the tip and wraps it around the middle. She blurts out ten and one eighth and seven and a quarter. Over 70 square inches of cock. She rgained her composure and lathered up my cock she deftly shaved my cock and balls. Following this she used a witch hazel astringent to prevent razor burn. Gloria asked me if I wanted to come.

I agreed wholeheartedly. Gloria examined my cock running her fingernails along the veins and the underside of the head. My cock was leaking profusely. Her hands felt great on my smooth balls. She would lift one and roll it around and switch to the next while stroking her petit hand slowly up and down the length. Alternating to tweak my nipples she had me turned right on. I couldn’t move. I tried bucking my hips but she would release my cock and I whimpered in agony.

Gloria urged me on asking me if I was going to come. I told her I would but I needed her help. She asked me what kind of help. I told her I need her to wrap her lips around my cock and stroke it hard. She told me that there was no ay she would get that in her mouth. I begged her. She said she would try to lick it. She then pushed me further by licking it like a Popsicle. Her warm tongue and soft lips felt good but I needed more. She asked me if maybe I needed my cock milked. I knew this worked with cows and I hoped it worked with me. Gloria explained that I would have to promise to be a good boy and she would milk me.

Gloria konacık escort explained that I would need to get on all fours to get milked. She was going to release my restraints and allow me to get on all fours. She told me the rules of my release and that I would be punished if I did not follow the rules. As she released me from the restraints I was able to sit up and admire my newly shaven genitals. As I turned over I lightly played with my balls and stroked my long hard cock vigorously. Oh that felt good. Gloria strapped my arms and legs in place it was strange having my ass up in the air and open. But I was looking for to being masturbated in a new position. Gloria stood in front of me and explained that twice while turning over I had broken two rules and needed to be punished.

Gloria now behind me explained that I would be punished and additional rules added. I was to be spanked 5 times for each offence. If my spankings exceeded twenty then the discipline would be raised to a new level. After each spanking I was to count the spank and thank my mistress. I was only to refer to Gloria as princess. So it looked like I was going to receive 10 spanks from Gloria ah er Princess. How bad could that be it was not like it was my dad. The first spank hit me wow I didn’t know she used a paddle. I had forgotten to count and thank her 5 more. I got through the first five okay. The second five were okay. But we were forgetting about the milking. I asked Gloria to stroke me. Opps I forgot to address her properly.

The next level of discipline. I felt her apply some lube to my asshole. As she rubbed it felt very good. Periodically she slipped a finger into my rectum it took my breath away. Before she returned to finish my spanking she rolled a rubber o-ring down my cock. It was tight as she stroked my cock. My cock was rock hard again. Princess resumed the spankings and I remembered to thank her and call her princess. Gloria then said I was ready to be milked. She slid both of her hands up and down my rod piston like but the o-ring on my cock was tight. The veins of my 10″ cock bulged and throbbed. I could feel the come filling my shaft. She stopped

Ahhh! I pleaded relentlessly. Gloria then probed my asshole it felt good. She explained that she was going to stimulate my prostate. As she hit the spot cum shot out of my cock head. Gloria resumed stroking me and stimulating my prostate as more shots of come shot from my cock head. Gloria drained me completely and I was exhausted. She let me off the treatment table. I thanked her for a wild experience and she said I think it has only begun. She told me she would like to teach me some things that would help me in life. She also said that if I learned to use my cock properly that I would live a very happy and fulfilling life. She suggested that I shower and told me I would get a treat.

I went off to the shower to clean up. As I reflected on my experience I truly felt my life was changing. Shockingly Gloria stepped into the shower completely nude. This is the first time I had seen her naked and been with another women. A smile as wide as the Grand Canyon covered my face as I reached down to warmly embrace. Gloria. My 6’3″ 230 lb frame enveloped her petit 120 lbs. I scooped her under the buttocks and pulled her firm breasts into my chest hugging a sharing a passionate kiss. Shy Troy was being released and I could feel it but Gloria seemed to have the power to rein it in and make me a little boy again.

After we sat and talked in the afterglow we agreed that this project was for only us together. She would not be my girlfriend or me her boyfriend but the emotional attachment would grow. We agreed that I needed work and she needed the help so Saturday was for us. You will hear of her influence in my life as I have grown and lived the full life. Experiences that happened in my life were shaped from this very day. Gloria taught me how to control my power and please women so that I could explore my hedonistic lifestyle. What a journey it is.

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I started having a fetish for the baby-sitter when she was young, much younger than her current age of twenty-three years. She has been the only baby-sitter of my three boys for the last eight years. Her mother is a colleague and her father is my best friend. She currently attends the college where I have taught for the last twenty two years, and I have literally known her her entire life. I watched her grow from infant to toddler to child to girl to young woman to mature young lady.

Her name is Rebecca.

When I first moved to this small west coast community, my wife and I were newly married and had just begun thinking about starting our own family. I began to play golf as an activity to replace the football I played in college and was truly a novice. Though I was big and strong and could hit the ball a long way, I was never quite sure where it was headed. I met Rebecca’s father on the first tee one afternoon, and he could sense my newness to the game. Within a few minutes he was giving me helpful hints and we became fast friends. Even though he was a decade older than me, we hit it off pretty well. We shared a mutual interest in fine cigars, fine single malt scotch, and fine women. I found out quickly that his wife was an associate professor in my own department at the small university in town. She was quite a looker, even though she had two small children. Her hair was long and brown, straight and fine. She had magnificent carriage, erect and proper, which caused her smallish breasts to jut enticingly. She was quick to smile and after just half of a glass of wine, she would reveal her bawdy sense of humor. She and my own wife, who could have been her sister in looks and temperament, became fast friends and fellow shopaholics. We were the first baby-sitters for their two small kids. We would even take Justin and Rebecca home with us for the weekend, just to give our friends a reprieve and allow us to practice parenting. We became almost like family, brother and sister to Tom and Janet, aunt and uncle to Justin and Rebecca.

When our own boys started to arrive, half a decade later, Rebecca was six years old. By the time she was old enough to baby-sit, there were three boys, ages nine, seven and two. It was understood that Rebecca would baby-sit, it was as natural as rainwater.

The very first time Rebecca baby-sat, it was up to me to take her home. My wife and I had driven into the next town for dinner and a movie. The red wine in combination with the flickering screen had given her a headache, spoiling my amorous plans for the evening. I waited in the driveway for Rebecca to come out of our house for the ride home. I was shocked when I saw her silhouette in the headlights. She had blossomed.

We rode to her house in silence, though I did notice that she kept her hands on her thighs, fingers pointed inward, thumbs bent backward, somewhat awkwardly. I didn’t have a lustful thought about her, just a wistful thought about how young and beautiful she was becoming. Wondering and jealous, knowing that her next five or so years would be filled with discovery, joy, heartbreak, and if she was lucky, love and passion.

From that night on, Rebecca was our regular baby-sitter. The routine seldom varied, unless for some reason I needed to stay in and my wife taxied her home. Any knowledge of Rebecca’s budding romantic life came to us through her parents. We found out about her boyfriends through them. We found out when they became ex-boyfriends too. We still did a great many things together as an extended family. Rebecca was an avid golfer, much like her father. She even played in a few club tournaments with me when her father was unavailable. We spent a great deal of time in the same cart together. As many of her generation does, she wears clothing that mimics the pop stars attire. She can be athletic and sexy at the same time. Even in golf shorts and polo shirt, it’s hard not to notice her long, tan, athletic legs and her small yet well shaped breasts. She has her mother’s long hair and regal bearing. It was on the golf course, when Rebecca was eighteen that I first caught a glimpse of something I look back and realize changed the course of our relationship forever.

She was squatting down, trying to read a putt, her concentration was on the line it would take and I was standing behind her.

“I think it’s going to break a cup to the left,” she stated. I disagreed.

“It’s either dead on or half a cup to the right. This green runs that way.” I pointed down to the water on the right side of the green. To double check my read of the green, I walked around the cup to look at her putt from the other side. My eyes traveled from the cup to her ball and I noticed, for the first time, that Rebecca wasn’t wearing shorts that day. Instead she was wearing an athletic skirt. As she squatted down to read her putt, she was revealing to all that she was wearing purple panties too. Not only that, she was demonstrating that she had not yet learned about the wonders of tending the garden bodrum escort bayan that grew between her legs or the miracle of the bikini wax. At that moment, I was smitten with lust.

Smitten my ass, I wanted to fuck her brains out. She was my best friends daughter, a girl I knew all her life, and I was looking at her like a hungry man looks at a well cooked steak. She looked so tender, so juicy, so damned edible, I was losing concentration. My cock stirred in my own shorts and I realized that I was beginning to stare. So did Rebecca. She just smiled and stood up slowly.

“I think your are right, David. It does break to the right.” She lined up her putt and stroked it smoothly to the back of the hole. When she bent down to pick it up out of the cup, I stood up quickly and adjusted my hard on so that it would lay to one side. I tried to keep my back to her until I could be sure it was waning. And I thought I had gotten away with it. For the rest of the day, the routine was the same. First I would look over her shoulder to read the putt, then I would hurry around to the other side of the hole and get a good eyeful over her purple covered snatch and watch her make putt after putt. My own game suffered, I shot eight over my handicap. Rebecca shot six under hers and as a team that was good enough for first place in our flight. We won over thirty-three hundred dollars and as was customary, we bought the drinks at the 19th Hole. Rebecca was too young to drink, but that didn’t stop her. I realized quickly that she was like a lot of her peers, used to drinking beer. We sat in the golf cart, under the shade tree, accepting congratulations from the other golfers and the ribbing I deserved for letting a high school senior GIRL carry me to a victory during the day. At some point during the partying, Rebecca decided that it would be appropriate of her to sit across the front of my golf cart. She placed a couple towels on the bar frame and sat there, legs together straight across the dashboard of the cart. Once, reaching for her beer from the cup holder, her left knee flexed upward and when she regained her balance, she kept it there. That sweet, tender, purple covered pussy was now only a few feet from my face and in perfect view. She put her legs together whenever someone walked around the cart on the driver’s side, but she kept her knee up when only I could see what she was doing.

“Save my seat,” she commanded. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She hopped off of her perch and disappeared into the clubhouse. The passenger seat was taken by her father, who had just arrived.

“I see you two did well,” he said proudly, examining the scoreboards on the side of the outdoor patio behind the course’s club house.

“Yes, YOUR DAUGHTER did play well. I wasn’t much help.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out sixteen one hundred dollar bills. “This is her half of the prize money.” We both knew that if Rebecca accepted money from the tournament, it would jeopardize her amateur status. We also both knew how expensive it was to keep a tournament player in the proper equipment. Tom didn’t argue, he just accepted the money and slipped it into his pocket.

“DADDY!” Rebecca grabbed her father around the neck. “You should have been there. David would read the putts and I would knock them in. It was great. I was on fire!” Tom smiled broadly at his only daughter’s success. It made him proud. “I think he would make an excellent caddie!” Even I laughed at that joke at my expense. I really hadn’t been much more than a caddie that day anyway.

“Have you been drinking Rebecca?” Tom asked his daughter.

“Yes daddy. It’s a victory party.”

“You be careful.”

“I will, David won’t let me drink too much and get wild. Will you David?”

Get wild, I thought. Hell YES I would! “No, I wouldn’t think of it. In fact, it’s probably time you switched to water or iced tea anyway.” Rebecca pretended to pout, but she nodded. And then I saw a wink.

Tom stood up. “Don’t be too late celebrating. You have to mow the lawn tomorrow.”

“I know daddy, I know. I won’t sleep in. Too late.” Rebecca teased her dad, but they booth knew that she would get the lawn mowed as soon as she got up in the morning. She worked hard and her parents doted on her. Tom got up to leave, extending his hand and congratulations to me and giving his daughter a hug good-bye.

Rebecca took her seat back on the front of the golf cart and reached into the cooler for another Corona and lime. When she sat down, my eyes natural traveled to that purple-pantied pussy that had filled my mind almost all day. I was shocked to realize that it was no longer clad in purple. Rebecca saw my shock and grinned mischieviously.

“I was so hot, I needed to cool off. I feel a nice breeze already.” She opened her legs slightly to let me see into the pink flower that was her womanhood.

“So you noticed me looking, did you?” I asked.

“Noticed? Noticed what? That drool, bodrum otele gelen escort that leer, that big salami in your shorts? I would have had to be Helen Keller not to notice.” I looked down at my erection straining at my golf shorts.

“Yeah I know. I need to pee too, and I can’t stand up.” I laughed at my own candor. Rebecca seemed to relish in my suffering.

“You know what, I think I left my putter cover on the bench at number 8. Can you run us out there so I can look?” I checked in the cooler, there were another five Coronas, just enough for the trip.

“Sure,” I answered. “It’s probably not safe for you to ride up there though, why don’t you sit down here?” I patted the passenger side of the bench seat.

“I think I’ll be fine here.”

“Suit yourself,” I warned her, and hit the foot pedal to make the electric cart go. Though she was rocked by the sudden movement, she didn’t lose her perch. Her legs did fly apart in her effort to maintain her balance, and I was there to get a good look. We careened across the golf course, which had been closed for the tournament. The green on hole number eight was as far from the clubhouse as you could get and still be on the course. The cart path wound behind the giant berms that surrounded the back of the green. These berms were easily large enough to hide a caravan of golf carts. It was cool and shady where I stopped the cart in the same place as I had hours before when we played the hole.

“Is this where you dropped it?”

“Dropped what?”

“Your putter cover.”

“My putter cover? Look behind you silly, it’s on my putter.”

I turned my head and looked. The black leather and wool cover was securely wrapping the head of her White-Hot Two-Ball Putter. I looked back at her, somewhat perplexed.

“Stand up,” she directed. I did as she asked, adjusting my diminished hardon as I rose. “Don’t you still have to pee?” I nodded before realizing how much I did have to pee. “Me too!” she admitted.

We both walked to the edge of the course and relieved ourselves. I was blatant about watching her pee. My God she was sexy.

“I didn’t bring anything to wipe with. Do you have any Kleenex?”

“No, but I am sure I can help you freshen that daisy. Would you like me to do that?” I asked as I finished watering the wild grasses at the edge of the course.

Instead of replying, she walked over and moved my hand off of my cock. She shook the last couple of drops off, but didn’t do anything about putting it away. It stirred in her hand, growing until her fingers no longer could circle it. I looked down, both of her hands couldn’t cover my large cock.

I picked her up and carried her to the front of the golf cart, seating her on the dashboard, facing forward. I pushed the entire cart off the cart path so I could kneel in the soft grass instead of on the hard sidewalk. I dropped my head between her thighs and placed her legs on my shoulders. I looked up, she was biting her lower lip. In those soulful brown eyes I could see both fear and lust, which I am certain was reflected in mine. I leaned forward, gently blowing on her slit. She shuddered in reply. I blow a little harder and moved in closer. I could smell her sex, her salt, her sweat. The combination made my head swim. I had been married more than twenty years and I was more than that many years older than she was. I was in decent shape then, able to stave off the middle age paunch that afflicted my generation, but my face had ruddy lines, my hair had salt in the pepper. I stopped and looked up, checking for a sign that I had gone too far.

“Are you just going to blow me? Or are you going to eat me?” Such lusty words from this regal young lady was all the encouragement I would ever need. My tongue went wild, dipping, diving, flicking, exploring, tasting, delving. I could feel Rebecca’s hips buck. She locked her ankles behind my head, thrusting it deeper into her wet pussy. She came quickly and often. Her golf spikes began to dig into my back. I pried her legs apart and pulled both her shoes and sock off.

Her feet were hot and sweaty and I immediately went to work on cleaning them with my tongue, driving her crazy. I lapped between her toes, across the arch, around the heel, bathing her entire foot with my tongue. She climaxed again, just from having her toes sucked. She was hanging from the frame supports that held the roof up. Her long hair was whipping back and forth behind her head. Finally she relaxed her grip enough to slide down and rest her upper torso on the golf seat.

“My God that’s fantastic! Where did you ever learn to do that? I’ll bet Patty really likes it when you do that.” Mentioning my wife killed my buzz slightly.

“No, she really doesn’t. She is not as free spirited as you. She likes it dark, missionary, and occasionally.”

“Oh, poor David! She doesn’t know what she’s missing. I’ve never done any of this before, but I am sure türk bükü escort that any woman would love it.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you are a virgin?”

“Yes, are you shocked?”

“Hell yes! There aren’t many eighteen year olds in this town that are still virgin.”

“I know. I might be the only one.”

“You’ve had so many boyfriends. How did you manage it?”

“Because the right man had never come along.”

“Well I envy the man that finally gets to have you.” She giggled.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” She struggled upright, using my head to get all the way up. “Stand up.” Again I did what I was told. She dropped to her knees. She reached out, caressing both of my thighs with her small hands. She let her fingertips reach under the fabric of my shorts, feeling the curly hair around my groin.

“You are wearing too many clothes.” She reached up and unbuttoned my shorts, dropping them to the ground. Since college I haven’t worn boxers or briefs, content to be a freeballer. My erection sprang out at her, striking her in the cheek. She quickly turned her head and engulfed the first three inches in her mouth. Both of her hands grabbed the shaft, leaving an inch of my cock skin exposed. She pulled her mouth away. “Are all cocks this big?” I shook my head no. She just grinned, opened her mouth wide, and stuffed as much as she could into the opening. Soon she was sliding it in and out of her hungry mouth. What wouldn’t fit, she was aggressively jacking. Sometimes it hurt, she was clearly inexperienced, but she was enthusiastic and that more than made up for it. Within minutes I could feel my heavy ballsack beginning to tighten.

“Be careful, I am about to cum.” Her eyes showed only love and her mouth opened even farther as she tried to stuff the entire shaft down her throat. That was too much. I came into my baby-sitter’s mouth and pulled her head even farther down onto my cock, bathing her throat with my copious semen. She coughed and sputtered, but I didn’t let up, driving it further into her throat and pushing spurt after spurt of rope-like cum directly down into her stomach. I made one last thrust and I could feel her nose against my belly as the last vestiges of my orgasm faded. I could feel her gagging, I could sense her tears. I had gone too far, forced her into too much. I released her head so she could remove my cock from her throat. She pulled back only far enough to get a deep breath through her nose and then she dove forward again, putting my re-hardening cock deep into her throat again. I could feel her swallowing, her throat milking the last drops of cum from my balls. I was spent. I forcibly removed my cock from her mouth.

“Noooo! Let me suck it some more. That was awesome. I want to suck it again!” She begged me to face fuck her again.

“No, I have something else in mind.” I pulled her up, reached down and removed her shirt, revealing a purple lace bra that barely covered her firm breasts. I massaged them both, feeling the hardness of the nipple underneath. I knelt and took them each in turn in my mouth before reaching between them to release the front clasp. I removed her bra and then her skirt and she stood before me, her last moments of innocence were mine to use as I saw fit. I scooped her up and laid her gently on the grass. I removed my own shirt and pressed my gray curly chest hairs against her tan and smooth breasts. I positioned my hips between hers, my cock was eager and knew exactly where to go. I stopped at the opening to her virginity.

“This is your last chance. From now on, you won’t be a virgin. Do you want me to go on?” I summoned the last of my restraint, though I knew with a thrust I could take her and I was concerned I might anyway.

“Shut up and fuck me, you old tease!”

“OLD? OLD? I’ll show you OLD!” And with that my cockhead ripped apart her maidenhead. I stopped when I saw the tears. Suddenly I was ashamed of myself.

“No, no, no! Don’t stop. Please, please, please, I have waited so long for this day, for you to take me. Don’t stop. I’ll get used to it. Please David, please. You must fuck me.” That was all the encouragement I needed. I thrust further, an inch at a time, pausing for her to adjust. When I was five inches in, I pulled out. I thrust in six inches and pulled out. I thrust in seven inches and pulled out. I thrust the entire length of my thick shaft into her tight virgin hole. Her head was rocked back, she was biting her lower lip so hard, I was afraid she’d draw blood. She was holding her breath. When I felt her hips relax I started my tempo, slow and easy. She started to move with me, then a little faster, urging me on.

“Fuck me David, fuck me. Fuck me David, fuck me. Fuck me David, fuck me.” I did as I was bid. I knew I couldn’t last long at this pace, her pussy was too tight, her body was too hard, her passion was too great for me to deny.

“I need to pull out, I am not wearing a condom,” I warned her.

“I….am….on……the…. .pill…..don’t…..stop……. fucKING…..MEEEEEEEE!” she cried between thrusts, ending in her third climax. I was right behind her, pouring my seed directly onto her cervix. I kept thrusting, my cock kept trying to empty into her, even after I had been drained of cum. Her orgasm continued, subsiding only when I couldn’t thrust any more. We parted with a soft, wet plop.

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

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

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

This is chapter 18 of a series. If you like this story, I encourage you to read earlier chapters as they can help understand characters and context. In any case, please do provide feedback. I would be happy to hear your suggestions for how to improve this story or others you would like to be developed.

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

Ever since the episode in Mr. Peters’ office (see Chapter 7), Tina Andrews had been thinking of Gordon. She originally had hopes of being Mr. Peters’ special student (see Chapter 3) but she grew to recognize that this was unrealistic. He was so very much older than her. They could never acknowledge their relationship in real life, at least to others. Gordon, his assistant, on the other hand, was a different story.

Gordon Richards was a graduate student. He was still appreciably older than Tina but they could at least acknowledge their relationship off campus, unlike with Mr. Peters. She had heard of undergraduates getting involved with older graduate students, although she didn’t actually know of any personally. It was against the Templeton College Code for any such relationships, as graduate students served as lecturers and graders. But, many undergraduates did flirt with them. They were like forbidden fruit on campus, or perhaps it was the undergraduates who were the forbidden fruit of the graduate students. Well, they both liked to pick from the tree.

Gordon was also quite good looking. She liked his wavy red hair. He reminded her of Robert Redford with red hair. That was though an exaggeration that reflected Tina’s attraction. Gordon was also much less confident and engaging than Redford. He was in fact rather shy, uncertain, studious and business-like. He always wore a sports jacket and tie. Many students found him to be overly bookish and dull. She found his behavior and appearance though to be signs of maturity, and she wanted an older, mature man. Graduate students were the future professors. They were just one step short of being a professor. She decided that Gordon would become her boyfriend. The problem, though, was that he wasn’t reciprocating her interest.

She began with mild flirtations. She would be sure to bump into him, sometimes literally, when he was leaving his office or going to some class. She would smile at him, try to engage him in conversation, but he didn’t seem to get the hint. If anything, he would beat a quick escape.

Tina did not understand. She decided that she would have to try harder.

Her next opportunity came Tuesday at an after hours math tutoring. These sessions were staffed by graduate students, usually two or three, and were attended by any students who wished to come, to receive extra help. There was a good chance that Gordon would be there. He often staffed the Tuesday sessions. Tina arrived early to get a seat at the back of the room, where they might have some privacy.

Her hopes appeared to be dashed though when he did not arrive for the first forty-five minutes. She had to spend the whole time working on her homework. However, she perked up when she finally saw him enter the room. She waved, giving him her best smile. But, he only just nodded in acknowledgment and went over to Mary Alford, one of the other graduate students. Tina was very disappointed. Maybe he was interested in Mary? That could be true. Mary was very pretty herself, and certainly a more appropriate age for Gordon, and probably much smarter. They did seem to be talking for quite some time.

Tina was sorely disappointed, even discouraged. She thought, ‘How could Gordon act this way when I was so nice to him in Mr. Peters’ office? Boys could be so mean sometimes.’ She returned to her math, feeling sorry for herself. When she looked up, Gordon was gone.

Early the next morning she visited the graduate student office to speak to him. The graduate student “office” was actually a large room divided into cubicles. Each student had his own cubicle, but they were quite small and with little privacy. You could look into another cubicle if you stood up on a chair, none had a door that could be closed, and they were divided by thin fabricated panels.

Gordon was studiously working on his thesis when Tina arrived. She knocked on the panel and walked in. “Hi Gordon,” she asked cheerfully. “Are you busy?”

Gordon’s desk was against the panel that separated his cubicle from the hall. It gave him a little privacy, as nobody could see him at his desk without stepping into the cubicle. He didn’t know it was Tina until she was already by his desk. “Oh, hi Tina, yea, actually I am kind of busy.”

“Too busy for me?” she asked coquettishly.

“Well, actually, you know, my office hours aren’t until the afternoon and my advisor wanted these analyses before then.”

Tina was standing to the side of him, hardly much taller even though he was sitting down. She stood beside him for a bit. She asked, “Do you want some gum?” She blew a big bubble, hoping for a playful reaction.

“No, escort bodrum that’s fine, I don’t chew gum.” Her bubble popped, along with some of her hopes. “I’ve got a lot more. I’m even doing three at once myself.” She did have a lot of gum in her mouth, making a bit of noise with her chewing.

“No really, I don’t use gum.” He turned his attention back to the equations on his desk.

Tina ran a finger down the side of his arm and asked quietly, “Why are you being so mean to me, Gordon?”

“I’m not being mean to you, Tina. What you do mean?” he said, equally quietly.

“You keep avoiding me, like I have the plague or something. Did I do something wrong, or something?”

“Of course not, Tina,” speaking even more quietly. “I’m not avoiding you.”

Tina scowled at him. “Yes you are, Mr. Richards, don’t you lie to me,” raising her voice.

“Tina, not so loud,” he pleaded. She was right and he knew it. He had been avoiding her. The fact was, he was intensely attracted to her. She was very cute. Her nickname at school was “Gidget,” as she looked like a young Sally Field, when Ms. Field starred in the TV show. Her breasts were probably smaller than Gidget’s, but the facial similarity was striking.

But, her attractiveness was the problem. He knew that she was involved with Mr. Peters, and that spelled trouble, although at least, for the moment, only for Mr. Peters. A relationship with Tina would be a dual relationship, along with the appearance of exploiting a girl younger than himself. Her youthful appearance made it seem even worse. In addition, for all he knew, Tina was a vamp, using him for some childish fantasy. When things turned sour, and the vast majority of relationships do fail, she would have him by the balls. Finally, who knows how Mr. Peters would feel about it? He might become vindictive if Gordon took his young lover away. However you spelled it, she was trouble.

But, man, she was cute. She seemed especially attractive today. He couldn’t tell why at first, and then it struck him. She was wearing perfume. Perfume was verboten at Templeton.

“Tina, are you wearing perfume?” he asked incredulously.

Tina whispered in response, “Now who is speaking too loudly,” she admonished.

“But you could get into serious trouble, you must know that. Why are you taking such a chance?”

“Well, I had to do something to get your attention.” She looked down at the floor, feeling self-conscious. She blew and popped another bubble. She said very quietly, “Wasn’t I nice to you in Mr. Peters’ office?”

“Yes, of course you were, Tina.” He wished she would just go away.

“I thought you wanted to practice with me?”

Gordon’s face flushed. He remembered how enticing she had been, suggesting that he practice spanking with her.

“I even got some special clothes for you.” She turned around, bent over, and pulled up her skirt. Her little derriere was just inches away, and written across the back of her yellow panties was, “Spank me.” Tina looked back and giggled when she saw his eyes widen.

“Tina!” Gordon exclaimed, “My goodness, cover up,” although he couldn’t deny the swelling in his slacks. He recalled her sweet smile she gave him over her shoulder when she was sitting on Mr. Peters’ lap, and the sight of that cute little bare bottom. He would love to see it again, perhaps even to touch it. But, she was high risk. Some girls were high maintenance. Tina seemed to be high risk.

Tina stood up and turned around to face him. She whispered, “C’mon Gordie, don’t you want to practice your spanking?” She picked up his hand and brought it to her derriere.

Gordon let her take it so far as to have him touch her fanny. Her bottom was so small. He wrapped his hand around her soft cakes. She had such cute cheeks. He felt his balls swell. But, he drew his hand back. My goodness, anyone walking by his cubicle would have seen his hand on a student’s butt if they just poked their head in.

“Tina, you aren’t even wearing regulation panties.”

“Duh, you noticed, Gordon? Gosh, I didn’t think you were paying any attention to me.” She played with the hem of her skirt, swinging her hips back and forth. “If I am such a bad girl, maybe you should spank me, then if anyone caught us, you could say that you were just trying to teach me a lesson.”

Gordon thought that might in fact be a good plan. His dick twitched in his pants. But, no way would he be spanking her in his cubicle, and that plan wouldn’t help with the possibility of Mr. Peters’ jealousy and, frankly, he knew it wouldn’t end with just spanking, at least he hoped that it wouldn’t end just with that.

“Tina,” he said quietly, “Do you really think it would end with just that?”

Tina smiled. This was what she wanted to hear. Now she knew he was interested. She looked down at his crotch. She could see that he was getting a little excited. She leaned over him, placing one hand on the bodrum escort bayan desk and the other on his thigh.

He stiffened with her touch, in more ways than one.

“Do you want to do more than just spank me, Gordie?” She touched the bulge in his slacks with the tip of a finger.

“Well, yes, Tina, of course, I mean.” She leaned into him, letting her small breasts press against his shoulder. She tried to wrap her fingers around his stiffening cock. It wasn’t easy. Her fingers were small and he seemed to be wearing briefs.

“Your penis is big, Gordie,” she whispered, her gum chewing momentarily silenced.

Gordon doubted that there was any real truth to that, particularly as he still wasn’t entirely erect, but she was nice to say it. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her soft touch, her perfume, and her sweet voice. “Tina, please, we shouldn’t be doing this.” He got control of himself. “And, certainly not here.” He gently took her hand and pulled it away. He looked past her. Now he wished that he could see into the hallway from his desk. Fortunately, it was pretty early in the morning and there weren’t many other students around. But, still, this was very risky.

Tina kneeled on the floor next to his chair, placing her hands on his thigh. She looked up at him with her large blue eyes. They were particularly endearing with her spectacles. She could tell that he found her pretty. She smiled at him, her rosy cheeks rounding with her smile, her dimples clearly evident. “I won’t tell anybody, Gordie.”

He furrowed his brow. “Not even Mr. Peters?”

Tina thought that she now realized what his problem had been. Gordon worked for Mr. Peters and he had seen her with him. He was worried about getting in trouble with Mr. Peters. “I think Mr. Peters is interested in someone else.” Tina was being honest about that. She had seen him around Miss Harding, acting in a way that suggested some personal familiarity. Plus there were rumors of other girls, even the cheerleaders. “I’m not seeing him anymore.” She rested her chin on his leg, blowing and popping another bubble. She gave him a flirty look. “I want you to punish me from now on, Gordie.”

Gordon put his hand on her head and lightly stroked her hair. “I’m older than you, Tina, and, besides, I’m one of your instructors.” The contradiction between his words and his caressing of her hair though was clear.

“Mr. Peters was much older than you, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She got higher up onto her knees so that her face was much closer. She whispered, “If I do, you can punish me extra so severely.” She smiled and again reached for his cock. He didn’t stop her this time. She kept her eyes on his and licked her lips. She got hold of his zipper and slowly pulled it down. She was impressed that she did it so successfully, so easily, this time. She had been rather clumsy with Mr. Peters. She figured she was getting better at this.

“Tina, somebody could walk in here at any time. This is ridiculous.” He knew he was going to stop her soon, he had to, but he did want to feel those little hands of hers on his cock, on his bare skin, at least for just a brief moment. He could let her do that. He grinned as he felt her searching around in his slacks, trying to find her way into his briefs. Fortunately for him, although confusing to her, is that he was wearing jockey briefs with the horizontal flap. They were much easier to use at urinals than the vertical flaps but they were confounding for Tina. She was searching for a flap in a location that just wasn’t there. Gordon brought a finger to her button nose and affectionately tapped it a few times. “Just a second, Tina.” He reached into his fly and pulled out his cock through the flap.

Tina was embarrassed. Not by the appearance of his cock, but by her ineptitude. She wanted to get past being the inexperienced virgin, yet she couldn’t even seem to find a guy’s dick in his pants.

Gordon could tell she was bothered. He placed his hand under her chin, tilted her head up, leaned down, and kissed her.

Tina was surprised. Mr. Peters hadn’t ever initiated a kiss. He hadn’t even kissed her after she had given him oral sex. Gordon, however, was giving her such a tender kiss. But, she now felt embarrassed for having gum in her mouth. She didn’t know what to do with it. She couldn’t french kiss him with gum in her mouth. Maybe she could swallow it, but it was awfully big.

She pulled back. “Wait,” she said. She slipped the gum into her left hand, closed her eyes, and leaned into him again for another kiss. At the same time, she reached for his cock with her right hand and wrapped her fingers around the thickening shaft as they held a protracted, lasting kiss. She liked his kiss. Gordon wasn’t even trying to french kiss her. She felt it was a kiss of true warmth and affection. She squeezed his cock. He moaned in pleasure through their kiss. She released her gümbet escort bayanlar lips but held onto his cock. She looked into his eyes, and then turned her attention to his cock in her hand. She put the gum back into her mouth and fell back on her haunches to give her attention to his erection.

“You really are big, Gordie.” She had no real experience to make this judgment and, frankly, Mr. Peters’ was bigger, but Gordon was still plenty big, at least he felt plenty big in her hand. She also liked the fact that he wasn’t circumcised. She enjoyed watching the foreskin move over his knob, momentarily hiding it, and then pulling back, exposing it again. “It’s like you have your own built-in hood to protect it from the cold.”

He smiled at her childish description.

She repeatedly pulled the foreskin off and then pushed it back over, like she was playing hide and seek.

For Gordon, it was a nice handjob. He enjoyed watching her little hand moving up and down his shaft. Her fingers were so soft, so delicate. It made his cock seem even bigger being held by her diminutive fingers. He also never had a girl seem so interested in the sight of his cock, like it was the first one she had ever seen. Even his first girlfriend seemed to be more experienced than Tina (actually, his first girlfriend was in fact much more experienced than Tina). It was a nice feeling, that she seemed to be learning about sex with him. And she was so pretty. Her glasses were so cute. He wondered if she might even kiss him there, on his cock. He now wished that he hadn’t been avoiding her. Her jerking was even now making slurping noises, with his precum lubrication sloshing with the covering and uncovering of his foreskin.

She got up higher on her knees. “Am I doing it ok, Gordie?”

“Yes, Tina,” he said quietly, not only for their privacy but also because he was losing himself in the pleasure of her efforts. “You’re doing it real well.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “I like playing with it. It’s so manly.”

Gordon smiled.

Tina brought the large wad of gum out of her mouth. She giggled, her dimples again appearing. She stuck the gum on the head of his cock.

Gordon wasn’t expecting that. He stared in surprise at the wad of gum sitting on the tip of his dick. He sure hoped that Tina wouldn’t draw his foreskin over that.

Tina laughed. “I think he wants to chew gum too. You think he can blow a bubble?”

Gordon smiled at her innocent play.

“Maybe I should blow him instead?” Now, that remark was more consistent with her age. She leaned over, down to his cock, wrapped her lips around the head, and licked the wad of gum off of it and back into her mouth. She then licked around the head of his cock to be sure that she got it all clean.

Gordon sighed with pleasure, placing his hand on the back of her head, leaning back in his chair, although partly to try to see if everyone was coming down the hall. He couldn’t hear anyone, but this was awfully risky. But, just a bit longer. If she kept this up much longer, he would cum.

Footsteps! They both heard them. Tina quickly released his cock from her mouth and got up on her feet. Nobody was yet there but somebody was clearly walking toward them. Gordon reached for his cock to get it back inside his pants but the zipper was stuck. He pulled a couple of times, but nothing. Tina saw his problem. She thought fast, although not well. She turned around and flopped down into his lap to hide his erection with her bottom.

“Hey Gordon, what’s up?” It was Freddie Timber, standing in the entrance to Gordon’s cubicle. He was another graduate student. His cubicle was right next door. He was a heavy coffee drinker and he had his morning Starbucks in his hand, actually his first of three. He usually stopped by to say hello, although he wouldn’t stay long. He was a student of romance literature and rarely had anything in common to discuss with Gordon, other than the fact that their cubicles were side by side.

Freddie though couldn’t help thinking that something did seem to be odd. Tina looked like a girl caught with her hand in a cookie jar. She looked very nervous about something. She was looking at him like a scared chipmunk, her eyes opened wide, sitting on Gordon’s lap, swinging her legs and blowing a big bubble with her gum. ‘What in the heck is she doing on his lap,’ Freddie wondered. Not that he minded. Frankly, he wouldn’t mind if Tina sat on his lap.

“Morning Freddie. Got your coffee?” Gordon replied, looking around Tina at Freddie. Gordon’s heart was pounding. Freddie would not intentionally get him or Tina into trouble. He wouldn’t rat on them, but he would certainly gossip about it, particularly if he caught Gordon with his dick out of his pants, and the gossip could in turn lead to big trouble.

“Uh, yeah, can’t sneak anything by you, can I.” He took a slow sip, studying the two of them. The coffee was nice. It was french. He normally didn’t stay long, wanting to get to his own cubicle, enjoy his coffee with the morning newspaper. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothing,” Tina quickly answered, perhaps proclaiming their innocence with too much insistence. “Gordon, I mean, Mr. Richards, was just helping me with my math,” Tina explained. She blew a big bubble. This one popped onto her lips. “Oops,” she exclaimed.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Every spring a small group of photography students and I go on a field trip to Mystic to work on the skills they’ve been taught throughout the year. We always go to the aquarium and a few of the other outdoor museums.

This year there were only a few students who wanted to go — a couple of the boys and Sheli. I normally wouldn’t go with so few but this way we could save money by just taking my car and it would be a lot less stress on me chaperoning. The boys had a room, Sheli had a room and I had my own room.

On the way down Sheli sat in the back with Tom. I would catch her eye in the mirror and she’d wink or lick her lips suggestively. I didn’t know if she was playing games or not but the effect was the same: I had a raging hard-on by the time we got to the hotel.

I had the kids get the stuff out of the car while I went to check us in. By the time they joined me in the lobby I had their keys and we made our way to the rooms. I chose the room in the middle so that there was less chance of hanky panky between Sheli and the boys.

I told them to relax for an hour or so then we’d go get lunch and drive around a bit to see what they wanted to take pictures of. I knew what my first order of business was going to be: take care of my aroused state.

I dropped my bags at the end of the bed and quickly undressed then laid down on the bed. I was already oozing precum so I wouldn’t need to use the lube; I could just spread the precum down over the shaft to make the wanking easier.

I closed my eyes and pictured Sheli. She had long curly blond hair, sparkling blue eyes and big luscious lips that were always a pale pink color. She was short at only 5’2″ tall, which was the perfect height for fucking. He could be buried deep inside her and be able to look down at her beautiful face. Her body was amazing — tight, compact and curvy with a nice round ass, full hips and a moderately large chest.

My hand moved fast on my cock as I imagined how good her tight pussy would feel wrapped around my cock. It didn’t take me long to explode with a loud grunt and covered my stomach and chest with my cum just as she came in his fantasy. I laid on the bed for several minutes as I tried to figure out what I was going to do to survive the rest of the weekend with her.

I looked at the clock. The kids were going to be knocking on his door in 20 minutes. That would be enough time to take a shower and get dressed again.

Sheli was the first to knock on his door. She was now wearing a short, pleated skirt and white collared shirt that was unbuttoned to show off her breasts. I was glad I’d been carrying his camera case when I opened the door because I could use it to hide my new hard-on. The boys arrived a few minutes later.

The afternoon was fun and they got tons of seascape pictures. When they got back to the room for a rest before dinner, Sheli asked if she could hang with me. I had hoped to be able to take care of the hard-on she’d provided me with all afternoon but it could wait.

She sat on his bed and flipped on the TV. Sheli looked so bodrum escort delicious as she watched the cooking show. I wanted to lie on the bed next to her and slip his hand under her skirt to touch the pink lacy panties she’d made sure I’d seen but I knew that was wrong. I would have to save it for my fantasy when I jerked off later.

“You’re so far away,” she said as she patted the bed next to her. “Come sit next to me.”

“I’m fine,” I said. She pouted and I caved. I sat on the opposite edge of the bed, crossing my legs to hide my hard-on. She giggled and scooted across the bed so she was sitting close to me and I could feel her thigh pressed against mine.

We silently watched the show as I tried to think of anything that would make me not want to tear her clothes off and fuck her until she was sore and begging for mercy.

I nearly came when her hand rested on my thigh and started to stray towards my cock. “What are you doing?” I demanded as I jumped off the bed.

“You just look so uncomfortable with that hard cock, I thought I’d help you relieve the tension.”

My mouth fell open. “I … we … I can’t do that … you’re a student,” I replied.

“I’m 18,” she countered.

“But you’re still a student.”

“Surely you’ve fucked a student before Mr. Timson,” she cooed as she slid her skirt up to expose her panties.

“Never,” I replied as I felt the precum ooze from the tip of my cock.

“Then I’ll be so very happy to be your first,” she said. She stood up and quickly removed her clothes then pressed her naked body against mine.

“Please … Sheli … get dressed,” I begged.

She replied by unbuttoning and unzipping my pants then sliding them and my briefs over my hips to expose my cock. It was harder than it had been in a few years.

“Mmm! So nice and hard … and long! Not like the cocks the boys at the school have,” she said. I closed my eyes as her fingers wrapped around the shaft and she slowly started to jerk me off. My precum oozed over her fingers as they moved faster.

When she suddenly stopped I gasped. “Please Sheli, jerk me off,” I begged.

“And not let you fuck me? Silly man,” she said and pulled me onto the bed with her. I spread her legs wide and moved between them. I didn’t care about niceties or taking care of her needs, I just needed to feel her pussy wrapped around my cock.

“I don’t have a condom,” I said as I paused.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through my hair. I guided my cock to her pussy and slammed into her. She cried out as I broke her hymen but I didn’t care. I just needed to fuck her.

“Oh fuck Sheli … you’re so damned tight!” I muttered as I drove my cock in and out of her. She was no longer in pain and was soaking wet again.

“Oh Mr. Timson!” she cried out as she started to cum. I closed my eyes and fought against my need to explode as her pussy muscles tightened around my cock. I sighed when her orgasm subsided and went back to pummeling her pussy.

Sheli ran muğla escort her fingers over my chest and tweaked my nipples as she watched my face. I looked into her eyes as my cock owned her pussy. “I will have to punish you for this later,” I whispered. Her cheeks turned a deep red and her pussy reacted by getting wetter.

“How?” she asked nervously.

“You’ll see,” I said. “After dinner.”

She gasped as I slammed my entire length into her, and I was pretty sure I’d hit her cervix. I repeatedly drove in deep, hitting the back wall each time and enjoying her little gasps each time. I knew I could fuck her like this for hours more but it would soon be time to go to dinner and I didn’t want her so sore that I wouldn’t be able to use her pussy again later after her punishment.

I reached between us and started roughly rubbing her clit as I fucked her with short quick strokes. I watched her face as she started to cum and when she peaked I dumped my load of cum deep inside her. When I finished cumming I laid on top of her, trapping her under my weight.

“You’re a very naughty girl Sheli,” I said.

She giggled. “And a very satisfied one.”

I rolled off her and stood up. “Get dressed and go back to your room to get ready for dinner. Wear pants and some modest top, I don’t want you to tease me while we’re at dinner. After dinner you will put that skirt back on and one of your slutty shirts. When you’re done you’ll call my room and I will open the door between our rooms so can come over. Then I’ll apply your punishment.”

“Yes Mr. Timson!” she replied and got dressed as I went into the bathroom to shower. I smiled when I heard the door close behind her.

Sheli was distracted throughout dinner. The boys teased her about it and I just smiled knowingly. I decided to get some night picture taking in and prolong Sheli’s torment.

“Can we go back now?” she whispered when the boys were away.

“Why? We’re having too much fun,” I answered with a devious smile. Sheli stormed off but I could tell she was more sexually frustrated than she was angry.

About a half hour later I called everyone over and we headed back to the hotel. We all said good night and parted ways. I pinched Sheli’s butt as a reminder of what she was to do then went into my room to wait for the phone to ring. She didn’t keep me waiting long.

I unlocked the door and she slipped into my room. She was wearing the outfit as instructed.

“Remove your underwear,” I ordered and my cock hardened even more as she did it. I sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for her to bend over my lap. She was blushing a deep red as I motioned for her to lie across my lap.

“What?” she asked. I pulled her to the bed and helped her to bend over my lap so her breasts were pressed again my thigh and her ass was raised in the air, the skirt barely covering her soft round ass. I pulled the skirt up and exposed the flesh to the cool air.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” I said as I massaged one cheek then bodrum sınırsız escort bayan the other. I pulled my hand back and let it fall on the roundest part of her ass. Over and over again my hand landed on her ass until she cried out.

“Please … stop … it hurts!” she whimpered. I ran my fingertips over the red area as she squirmed. I reached over to the tube on the bedside table and squirted some of the lubrication onto my index finger.

I parted her ass cheeks with my other hand and exposed her tight ass hole. I pressed my finger against the opening and watched as her ass enveloped my finger. She gasped and tried to pull away so I held her in place with my free arm.

“No! Please, don’t do that to my ass,” she begged.

“If you say anything else I’ll gag you with your panties,” I said as I slid my finger completely into her ass and slowly started to fuck her. She squirmed more and more as her discomfort turned to excitement.

“You ass is so tight. Even tighter than your virginal pussy,” I said. “I should replace my finger with my cock but I’ll cum too fast and I want to fuck you for the rest of the night.”

Sheli whimpered as her ass muscles started to tighten around my finger. I slipped a second finger then a third finger into the tight hole, and fucked her ass faster and harder. “OHHHHHHHHHHH! I’m cumming!” she cried out as her ass came on my finger. I pulled my finger out and moved her so she was leaning over the edge of the bed.

My cock easily slid into her sopping wet pussy. I buried it deep inside her and looked down at her ass hole that was still stretched wide from my fingers. I just needed to feel how it felt around my cock, even if it wasn’t going to take me long to cum.

“You are such a good girl to take your punishment so well,” I said. “That’s why I’m going to fuck your ass and fill it with my hot thick gooey cum.”

“No!” she cried and tried to pull away.

I held her in place with one hand as my other guided my cock to her ass hole. It was already lubed up from my precum and her juices so it slid in easily. She groaned as it stretched her wide and I moaned as it closed around my cock fitting it like a glove.

“Oh fuck yes!” I said as I slowly moved my cock in and out of her. “So fucking tight … very, very tight.”

I picked up the pace as her ass loosened slightly, my cock slamming in and out of her. I knew I was going to be exploding soon so I reached under Sheli and found her clit. I quickly rubbed it as I got closer and closer.

“Cum for me,” I ordered. I wanted to feel her ass muscles milk my cock as she came. She whimpered loudly as her body started to shake. “Oh yea … so good … oh Sheli!”

I came hard as she started to orgasm. “OH! Mr. Timson!”

I laid across her back as I tried to catch my breath, my cock still buried in her ass.

“I’m going to take a shower and I advise you to do the same thing,” I said as I stood up and slowly let my cock slide out of her ass. She moaned at how empty her ass felt. “Do not speak of this to anyone and start dressing more appropriately. I don’t want to have to punish you again.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Timson,” she said looking at the floor.

“Good night,” I said and turned away from her. She headed back to her room and nothing more was ever said about that day by either of us, but I still jerk off to the pictures I took with my hidden camera.

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

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

Acrobatics 9 – Today’s the Day for Mary

Jack walked over to Mary’s house for a beautiful mid-afternoon Saturday workout with Mary and Joan. Mary’s parents were gone to a weekend seminar so the three of them had the house to themselves. The plan was to finish all preparations and take Sunday off before an exhibition for the acrobatics teacher on Monday. The exhibition would require Jack to take a few hours off from work but he was glad to do it.

Joan and Mary had obviously already been working out before Jack arrived. They were finalizing a routine for the exhibition. Jack’s role would be to just follow directions during the exhibition thereby minimizing the need for his involvement in workouts.

The girls ignored Jack as he approached. They were probably just in the middle of something; but Jack was a little concerned that this might be the result of some negative reactions to last night’s activities.

He waited while they finished talking and planning. It gave him a chance to notice their attire for the day. Unlike yesterday the outfits were not particularly revealing. They both wore short sleeve leotards with gym shorts over them.

Finally they turned toward Jack to say hello and exchange brief polite hugs. There was no meaningful eye contact or even socializing. They seemed a little distant to Jack. Mary got right to business.

“Joan and I have come up with a routine for Monday. There are a couple of new overhead tricks that ya’ll will need to learn in the pool today. Other than that you will just practice what you’ve already learned.”

Mary had them rehearse the moves they already knew in the order they would be performed on Monday. There was no joking around or butt wiggling as before. They finished this part of the workout and Jack anticipated the traditional reward hug.

“OK, good job. Let’s go over to the pool and learn the last tricks.”

Now Jack knew for sure that something was different. Mary had never missed an opportunity to encourage his hugging Joan after successful work. When he looked toward Joan she was already following Mary to the pool as if nothing was unusual.

The pool water looked terrific. A ball floated on the calm surface and almost looked like it was floating in the air.

Jack pretended to be looking over the pool but he was really trying to look back toward his house. Between fences and buildings there was not a good line of sight for Karen to easily see the entire pool area. If she was going to watch them at all she would have to use the utility shed in their back yard. Karen would be able to speak to Jack through the earpiece but she would not be able to hear them. Jack’s eyes were focused on the utility shed when he heard his wife’s voice over the earpiece.

“I can see you Jack. Don’t worry about me. I have a few things I’ve been meaning to do out here anyway.”

Jack turned back toward the pool in time to see the girls removing their gym shorts. When they took off the leotards to reveal bathing suits Jack was a little shocked. Joan was wearing a white one-piece. This was not startling since Joan’s suit was somewhat modest, which was difficult to accomplish with her curvy figure. The surprise came when he saw Mary’s suit. It was a very brief bikini that was a bright cherry red color. It was made of a thin material that revealed the exact shape of her breasts up top, and “camel toe” down below. And of course there was nothing covering her round bouncy buttocks except a virtually invisible thong strip up the middle.

As Mary straightened up she turned toward Jack with an expectant smile. Jack noticed that Joan was watching him too. He could tell he was supposed to say something about Mary’s suit.

“Mary you look fantastic in that bikini.”

“Thank you.”

Mary turned with a beaming smile toward the pool. Jack’s gaze lingered on her backside to admire each jiggle of her smooth white butt as she walked.

Jack then crooked his head to look at Joan. He was about to tell Joan she looked good in her suit too but when he caught her eye he stopped. She gave him a knowing look and she nodded to him seeming to communicate that he had already said all he was supposed to say.

Jack wasn’t sure what was going on but it was clear Mary and Joan were working together. Jack concluded he’d better be especially careful to simply follow directions today with the way these two were acting.

The three of them entered the above ground vinyl pool at the shallow end which was about knee deep. The bottom tapered to a point about chest deep. The shallow end had a nice built up deck that was level with the back patio of the house. Mary waded to a point that was waist deep on her.

“This is really a series of tricks in one. Basically Jack, I want Joan to get up on your shoulders and as a minimum jump down in a seated position into your arms. Depending on how well ya’ll do today we may be able to improve on that to your lifting her over your head on your hands before she falls into your arms with a twist.”

“Jack, bodrum escort bayan it will be important for you to be good enough on this trick that you make Joan look good even if she’s a little scared and shaky. You’ll completely learn each step with me first then you’ll work with Joan.”

This was different from their previous way of learning. Before today Mary had always talked Jack and Joan through each move, letting them make a few mistakes along the way. Mary had never been involved in the acrobatics herself.

“OK Jack, give me your hand like we’re shaking hands. Now squat down a little so I can step on your right thigh with my right foot. OK, now let’s hold left hands kind of different like this.”

Mary felt feather light to Jack. She stepped on his thigh as if she was walking up stairs. Then she swung her left leg around behind him to step on his left shoulder right next to his neck. Before he knew it Mary was standing on his shoulders. She immediately jumped into the water in front of him.

“See? It’s easy. Let’s repeat it until you’re good enough to do the trick with Joan.”

Joan watched as she leaned against a deep corner with all but her head submerged. Mary faced Jack again and this time when she placed her foot on his thigh it was nudged up close to his crotch. She stepped up on his shoulders with a foot on either side of his head. Jack had a hand on each of her ankles.

“Reach up and give me your hands Jack. I’ll show ya’ll a couple of things.”

Jack automatically looked up to see a lot of white skin. Mary took his hands and supported herself on them, doing an “L-sit” by lifting her legs up to horizontal. Their arms shook during the move but they were surprisingly stable. She brought her feet back to his shoulders and gave Jack more directions.

“Now support me by my butt to do the same L-sit.”

As Jack extended his arms upward one at a time, Mary carefully sat in the palms of his hands. She extended her legs out horizontal again with toes pointed. Jack decided he would like any move like this that required his holding two handfuls of Mary’s warm bare ass.

Mary again resumed a position standing on Jack’s shoulders. She took his hands again and lowered herself down into the water with Jack catching her under the armpits and brushing against the swell of her breasts.

“OK Joan, let’s start in ribcage deep water and see how you do.”

Joan was a good athlete even if she did not always point her toes. She mastered the “stair climb” up to Jack’s shoulders on the first attempt. Jack noticed that Joan was careful not to brush up against him in any way. He concluded she must be feeling bad about last night so he was careful to be very respectful when touching her.

Mary had them get in shallow water to repeat the move. Joan got her feet up to Jack’s shoulders and then froze bent over holding his hands. The extra height was scaring her.

“You’ll get used to the height. You just have to repeat the trick over and over.”

Joan shakily stood straight up then offered her hands to Jack so that he could lower her down to the shallow water. Eventually they were doing the move on the land but Joan was clearly not comfortable with the height.

At no time did Mary suggest the butt supported L-sit for Joan. Jack knew they had probably ruled that out ahead of time.

Mary was satisfied with the progress. “OK, all of us deserve a hug before we take this trick to the next level.”

Joan gave Jack a very proper cheek to cheek type of hug. Jack began to be embarrassed for her since she must have issues with him.

Mary’s hug was a different matter. She walked right past his arms to snuggle up against his shirtless frame in her bikini. She pressed her groin against his leg as if that was how she hugged everyone. Jack’s suit was a thick nylon but he could almost feel the folds of her vagina. He allowed his hands to touch her thong where her soft smooth butt began.

Mary moved back to the pool. Jack and Mary worked together again and this time the shoulder stand was just the beginning.

“The basic dismount is for me to come down from standing on Jack’s shoulders and let him catch me in a seated position. OK Jack, catch me.”

Jack caught her with one arm under her back and the other under her legs. It was easy. Mary stayed in his arms as she spoke to Joan.

“So at least I want you to be able to do this for the exhibition.” Jack enjoyed the feel of being next to Mary as she continued. “But if you want to do more you’ll have the choice.”

Mary got down then climbed back on his shoulders. They were quick with that part now. “From the shoulder stand I want to step in Jack’s hands and have him press me up. Jack, present a hand just in front of your shoulder for me. Now the other hand.”

Jack was in waist deep water with Mary standing in his hands at his shoulders. It was a little shaky but Mary was fearless.

“Now you can probably press yalıkavak escort me up with just your arm strength, but I want you to learn to use your legs to help press me up.”

Jack bent his legs slightly and then extended, easily pressing Mary straight up. Jack heard his wife’s voice in his earpiece, “Don’t drop that girl!” It was already too late. Jack had concentrated more on strength than balance.

Mary started to tumble down. She grabbed his head and wrapped her legs around him on her way down. They both went under water with Jack’s face mashed against her bosom and his hands cradling her bare ass. Mary seemed a little slow to let him up. She spoke immediately on his breaking the surface.

“We have to keep doing this until you’re perfect.”

The next time Jack pressed Mary up he was able to maintain position. Things were shaky but he learned to move his feet to keep her up there. It was kind of like balancing a broom on end.

“Jack, are you ready to catch me? Bend your knees a little then extend to help me jump.”

Jack did as he was told and Mary did one and a half twists before landing in his arms. Jack and Joan were both amazed and Joan exclaimed, “You want me to do that?”

Mary shrugged. “It is kind of a tough trick but both of you are good athletes. You don’t have to do it perfect. Jack will catch you no matter what and you pretend that’s what you intended. You can always choose to do the simple jump from his shoulders.”

Mary was right. It took a lot of practice but it helped that the swimming pool took the fear out of the move. From waist deep water Joan could do the entire trick from the press to the twist and seated catch.

The problem came when they went to shallower water. Joan’s fear of the extra height made the progress slow. Jack and Joan eventually improved and moved the attempts outside the pool to the ground. They never even came close to completing the trick; it was just too scary for Joan.

Mary was very accepting. “OK, it was worth a try. On Monday just do the basic trick from his shoulders.”

Joan seemed relieved. Jack and Joan looked to Mary. She shrugged and said, “That’s about it. Let’s take a break in the pool.”

As they made it into the water Mary said, “Oh yeah. Hugs all around for a job well done.”

Jack hugged Joan first. She was still prim and proper which was quite a change from the previous two days. Joan even avoided eye contact.

But Mary more than made up for it. She floated in close and even slightly wrapped her legs around his waist as she gave him a full frontal hug. The feel of the water made the hug even more sensual for both of them. Jack lightly supported Mary by placing his hands on her bare slippery bottom.

Jack happened to look over at Joan. She was in the deep water crouched down and had an expression that almost looked like a scowl. It occurred to Jack that maybe she disapproved of his giving Mary an intimate embrace.

Jack pulled back from Mary and backed into the wall of the pool. Mary ignored his rejection saying, “Ooo, that felt good. How about giving me a hug from behind?” Mary took her time and sensually floated around pressing her bare ass back against Jack’s expanding dick.

Jack reached up to touch her smooth waist but he was worried. Something was going on that he did not understand. Jack looked across the water’s surface at Joan for help but she still had that disapproving look.

Then Jack heard something from the earpiece. “…Jack, you’re supposed to…” It was mostly static. The earpiece must have gotten waterlogged. If he could have heard his wife he would have known she said, “Jack, you’re supposed to pay attention to Mary. The girls have arranged for her to be with you.”

Instead Jack assumed that Karen was trying to tell him to back away from Mary. He gently pushed Mary away.

“Let’s stop this Mary.”

Mary’s response to the second rejection was simple. She slowly waded out of the pool and picked up her towel on the way to the house. She was clearly holding back tears.

Joan was suddenly at his elbow. “What is wrong with you? Can’t you tell Mary’s flirting with you? She talked about this all day.”

Then over the earpiece Jack finally heard his wife’s clear voice. “You hurt that girl’s feelings! She thinks you’re rejecting her.”

Jack faced Joan with his surprised expression and mumbled, “I’ve got to try to fix this.”

Jack and Joan got out of the pool and Joan led the way to Mary’s room near the pool. They found Mary on the bed with her face buried in her pillows. The only thing covering her was the bikini and that wasn’t covering much. There was no sound but her body was slightly shaking. Jack and Joan sat on the bed on either side of her and she ignored them.

“Mary I’m sorry.”

With broken speech Mary struggled to say, “What was I thinking? I’ve been coming on to my married neighbor.” Jack noticed that her cute butt jiggled as her body gümüşlük escort moved. She continued, “I even went out today and bought this bikini to impress you.”

Jack took the cue. “That bikini really did impress me; well what was in the bikini impressed me. You look great.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Mary, I noticed that you and Joan were acting different and I somehow thought something was wrong. I didn’t want to make things worse, but instead that’s exactly what I did. Please forgive me.”

Jack gently placed his hand on her back and bent down to kiss her on the cheek. Her face was still in the pillow and when she felt him she abruptly turned her face away.

“I forgive you but everything’s all messed up.”

Jack decided to take a risk. He leaned over and kissed one of her cute shaking ass cheeks.

Mary’s body froze. There was a long wait as she seemed to be thinking. Almost imperceptibly she turned her butt offering the other cheek. Jack kissed it and added a little suction at the end.

Mary flipped over and blurted out, “I’m so embarrassed!” Her nose was red and her eyes were bloodshot. Jack fell into her arms and they kissed deeply with occasional laughing sobs from Mary.

They heard a deep throated, “Finally!” from Joan’s side of the bed

Jack lay down next to Mary and they both reveled in the feel of flesh. Jack raised a knee and nudged it against Mary’s pussy. She pushed back as she squeezed him tight.

Jack began to explore Mary’s supple body with his hands. He reached behind Mary and undid the strap to her top. Mary seemed a little shy as he lifted the red material to reveal her naked beauty. Mary’s breasts were small but delightfully shaped. They were prominent and placed high on her torso. Jack palmed one and then the other as they continued to kiss.

Jack pulled Mary over on the bed and they bumped into Joan who let out an “oops.” Joan moved over to the bedside desk chair and started to lightly stroke her breasts through her white bathing suit as she watched.

With Mary on top Jack could glory in the feel of Mary’s bare breasts mashed against his chest. She had her arms under his, still hugging him tight with the side of her face against his upper chest.

Jack lowered his hands to finally get a good feel of Mary’s stunning soft ass. At first he lightly explored the surface of her warm skin. Then he began to knead her flesh and feel the resilience of the shaky globes.

Mary began to get active with her hands. She ran them along Jack’s sides to his bathing trunks and then lightly pushed to communicate that he should take them off. They rolled to their sides and Jack struggled only slightly to get rid of the suit. Mary made sure to get a good look at Jack’s dick as Joan moaned from her chair.

“Mmmmm.”

They rolled again with Jack on top this time. He kissed Mary passionately and ran his hands over her perky breasts, over her ribcage, and across her protruding hip bones. He squeezed his hands under her to get a double handful of her ass again. In this position he slowly pulled her tight and pressed his dick against her bikini covered pussy.

It took Jack a couple of tries to find the opening of her pussy through the material. Mary helped by shifting her hips so that they could line up. They began to hump against each other with the very brief red material between them. Jack could feel his dick slightly penetrate her thinly clad opening and Mary began to moan.

“Ooohhhh.”

Jack slid down her body sprinkling kisses as he went. He took the material of her bikini bottoms and slid it off of her fervently moving legs. They were both totally naked. Jack was taken again by the paleness of her pubic hair. He kissed Mary around the vagina and then buried his face so that his tongue was right on her clitoris. Mary’s hips bucked upward as she groaned.

“AAHHH!”

From beside the bed came Joan’s unenthusiastic, “Uugg.” Jack and Mary both looked briefly over at Joan and she said, “Oops, sorry. I’ll be right back.”

As Joan stood up to leave Jack playfully reared his head back with his teeth bared and got a Dracula style mouthful of Mary’s pussy. Mary breathlessly giggled as Joan scoffed, “Hmmf.”

Jack used his hand to start working with Mary’s G-spot. She seemed to really respond. He moved his mouth back up her body with the side benefit that his dick was moving closer to her pussy. His face reached her perky tits and he decided to spend a little extra time there. He continued to stroke Mary’s G-spot as he used his lips to play with her erect nipples. Mary arched her back against his face and rotated her hips against his hand. She sometimes even crossed and uncrossed her legs while Jack stroked her. She moaned with passion.

“OOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Jack sensed that if he maintained this, Mary would probably have an orgasm. His dick was aching to find the interior of Mary’s pussy but Jack held his position. Instead of long steady moans she began to make passionate noises with a rhythm.

“Ohhh…Ohhh…Ohhh”

Mary began to lift her hips up to accentuate the G-spot sensations. Jack’s cock rubbed against her thigh as she moved up and down on her back with eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her hand was on the back of his head as he concentrated his mouth on the nearest titty. Mary’s hips shot upward with an orgasm.

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

David and Karen didn’t spend the night with us Saturday. They accepted an invitation from a friend to go to her beach house for the night. Karen never missed a chance for a little Bi action with another female! Even though it was only my wife and me, she still wouldn’t let me sleep with her in our bed. She preferred to sleep alone than with a ‘pencil dick wimp’, as she put it. So off to the guest room I went. I was so tired from day three of my trial week, I fell fast asleep. I had four more days to go to pass her test, then I’d get to eat cum directly from her cunt forever!

I woke Sunday morning with a start, the sun was bright – I had overslept! I raced downstairs wondering where my dominating wife was and why she had allowed me this luxury of sleeping late. I found a note on the kitchen counter. The outside of the envelope was labeled “Day “.

I tore open the envelope – the note was short and to the point. It read “I’ve taken the kids to brunch with Mother, I’ll be home later, and she will watch the kids for the remainder of the day. Follow these directions exactly: 1) Go to the address listed below and pick up my friend Darren and have him at our house by 1:00 p.m. 2) Show him my lingerie and let him pick out some things for me to wear. 3) Have him hard for me when I walk through the door at 1:00 p.m.” There was also a postscript, it read “Don’t screw this up worm, I’m horny today!”

I looked at the clock, it was already 11:00 a.m., I only had two hours! I ran and got dressed, raced out to my car and headed off toward the address she had given me. I wasn’t familiar with this part of town, but I finally found the house at 11:45. I parked the car at the curb and walked up to two young black guys sitting on the front porch drinking beer. When I asked for Darren, they looked at one another and grinned.

The older one shouted through an open window into the house. “Yo Darren,” he yelled, “there’s another wimpy white boy out here come to pick you up!”

He then turned to me and said, “What’s the matter white boy, can’t fuck your wife proper? Need big ‘ol Darren to do it for ya?” He and his partner had a good laugh over this.

Then the other one said, “Your wife a slut boy? You just can’t satisfy her with your little dick, is that it? Better tell your slut of a wife to take it slow with ‘ol Darren, they call him Z.C. ya know. His dick is so big it’s got its own zip code!”

As they hooted and hollered at their humor, a huge black man came out onto the porch. He was easily 6’5″ and had to weigh close to 275 pounds! He was dressed very casually in a tank top, a pair of gym shorts and sandals. Even though his shorts were baggy, the outline of his enormous tool was clearly visible.

Darren looked at me and simply said, “Let’s go wimp, I’ve got some fuckin’ to do.”

We rode in silence back to our house. I was dying to ask Darren how he knew my wife but decided I probably didn’t really want to know. She had picked up so many men in the last few months I had lost count. We got to our house at about 12:15, so aksaray escort I had 45 minutes to show him my wife’s lingerie and get him hard by 1:00 p.m. I realized then how outrageous this whole thing was and how low I had sunk just to get a taste of cum. I had driven to a strange part of town and picked up an extremely large black man so he could fuck my wife. Now I was going to help him select the lingerie she would wear while he fucked her! Unbelievable, but I had to do it. I dismissed the thought and got back to the matter at hand.

Darren followed me into the house, I got the strange feeling he had been here before. I brought him to the master bedroom and told him how my wife wanted him to select some lingerie for her to wear.

He merely nodded and said, “Let’s see it.”

I began going through my wife’s dresser, showing Darren teddies, camisoles, bras, panties, corsets, etc. I kept checking my watch and his crotch. I was running out of time and was hoping the lingerie show would make him hard, God knows it works for me! It was 12:40 and Darren hadn’t selected a thing for her to wear, I started to get nervous.

Finally, Darren said, “Let’s see her stockings, I like nylons.”

A man after my own heart I thought! The third item I showed him from her stocking collection was a taupe colored sheer body stocking. His eyes lit up, pay dirt!

“That’ll do” he said, “I can rip a hole in the crotch.”

I then pulled a pair of 5″ black patent leather spikes from the closet and held them up – Darren nodded approvingly.

It was now 12:50, ten minutes to get him hard! I turned to Darren and said, “This is kind of awkward, but my wife wanted you hard when she gets her at 1:00.” I reached for the waistband of his shorts and said, “Do you mind?”

He just said, “Do whatever your slut wife told you to do wimp boy.”

As he stood by the side of the bed, I slipped his gym shorts off and freed his monster cock. He was wearing sheer black silk boxer shorts; I could see his huge dick through the sheer material. He sat on the edge of our bed and I knelt between his legs. I reached in through the silt in his boxer shorts and pulled out his horse sized piece of meat. I put my mouth over the head and started my task of making him hard. Ever so slowly his cock became engorged and swelled to a size I could no longer fit in my mouth. Because I could no longer suck him into my mouth, I resorted to licking his huge shaft up and down both sides. I became very engrossed in licking his dick and didn’t hear my wife come in the front door.

She burst into our bedroom and squealed with excitement, “Hi Lover!”

I turned my head thinking momentarily she was talking to me.

My wife looked at me and said, “I’m not talking to you cocksucker, I’m talking to Darren.”

With that she straddled Darren’s lap, sat down, and began to deeply french kiss him. I was still on my knees licking his cock, so her ass was right in my face.

After a few minutes, my wife got up çağlayan escort off his lap, pushed me aside, and said, “I’ll take over from here dipshit. Go get the camcorder and set it up on the tripod, this can be a training film for you!”

As I was setting up the video camera, Darren was busy literally tearing the clothes off my wife. He tore her blouse open with both hands, buttons were flying everywhere! He then yanked her bra down off her tits and shoulders, so it now rested around her waist. He roughly sucked and bit her nipples while she was fondling his dick. This was beginning to look like a rape scene from a movie I once saw. My wife seemed to be getting off on being treated so roughly, however.

Darren pulled back from his tit sucking and said, “Get out of those clothes bitch and put that body stocking on.”

By now I had the camera set up and was starting to record. I zoomed in on my wife’s lovely feet and legs as she pulled her body stocking on. With the spaghetti straps in place over her shoulders, the sheer taupe nylon looked great pressed against her tits. She stepped into her kicky pumps and turned to face Darren.

He gruffly said to her, “Get on your knees bitch and beg for my cock.” She didn’t hesitate a second and dropped down before him. Darren stood in front of her, arms folded, cock erect, and looked down at her. God he was big! His gold chain around his neck and gold earring made him look even more menacing.

My wife then looked up at him with pleading eyes and said, “Please Baby, let me have it.”

Darren started walking backwards ever so slowly. My wife was now on her hands and knees crawling slowly after him.

She said again, “Darren please, I need your cock.”

He responded as he continued moving away from her, “Not good enough slut, beg some more!”

Soon Darren had backed out of our bedroom and moved into the next room. My slut wife in her body stocking and pumps was crawling after him continuing to beg for his cock. I took the camera off the tripod and followed behind them, filming the action.

My wife then said, “I’ll do anything Darren, just please fuck me!”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear bitch. I want a favor from you.”

“Anything Lover, just name it,” she said.

“I want to fuck your wimp husband up the ass,” Darren said.

I almost dropped the camera when I heard that but managed to keep filming!

My wife turned to me with a wicked smile and said, “Let’s trade places sweetie, he wants you first.”

She stood and took the camera from me. Darren said he wanted to fuck me while I wore pantyhose, so I went to my dresser and got a pair. I slipped on the black shiny light support pantyhose as my wife continued filming. I stood and Darren lead me to the kitchen where he bent me face down over the table. He took a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut a hole in the back of my pantyhose. He next went to the pantry and got a bottle of cooking oil and smeared it all over my asshole; cevizlibağ escort he also rubbed it all over his monster cock.

He looked over at my wife and said, “I’ve always wanted to fuck a wimpy white boy’s ass. As soon as I’m done with him slut, you’re next.”

My wife was still filming as Darren entered my ass. I winced and screamed as his cock violated my tight butt. I gripped the edges of the table and held on as Darren pushed his hot meat into me all the way. He was rubbing his huge hands over my nylon covered ass and legs. I felt so helpless and yet so horny and sexy, all at the same time! My erect little pecker was straining against my nylon pantyhose. Darren was grunting like a wild animal as he fucked me. I was being raped, pure and simple, and I loved it!

My wife was urging him on, saying, “Fuck him hard Darren, he loves it that way.”

After what seemed like an eternity, he shot his load up my ass. I could feel the warmth of his cum inside me. As he came, my own little pecker began spewing cum, staining the front of my pantyhose. Darren continued to stroke in and out, his cum acted as a lubricant and actually made his thrusts hurt less. He finally pulled out and I collapsed on the floor. His cum was leaking out of my ass and running down my legs. For a minute I thought about reaching back with my hand and scooping some up to eat, but I was too sore and too exhausted! I looked up and my wife was standing over me laughing and filming me lying on the floor.

As I lay there on the floor in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, Darren grabbed the scissors again and cut the crotch out of my wife’s body stocking. She set the video camera on the table and stood with her back to the kitchen counter. Darren rubbed some more cooking oil on his massive cock and quickly impaled my wife. She squealed and gasped for breath. I watched at their feet on the floor as Darren violently fucked my wife. Each of his thrusts slightly lifted her pretty pumps off the floor. It wasn’t long before she was screaming with a long, continuous orgasm. I watched her knees buckle as she came. Darren held her up so he could continue fucking her.

“I’m cumming bitch!” he shouted. “Take it all you whore!” he snarled. He grunted and came inside her.

My wife had her arms around his neck to hold herself up. Darren was sliding his hands all over her nylon-clad body, obviously enjoying the feel of the material.

He eventually pulled his cock out of her stretched out pussy. As he did, a huge glob of cum fell from her cunt onto the kitchen floor. I stared at it and began licking my lips. With no hesitation, I crawled over on my stomach and licked Darren’s cum from the floor where it had fallen between her sexy feet. As I lay there licking it up, more cum oozed out of her and landed on the back of my head. I rolled over on my back and opened my mouth. My wife pulled the lips of her cunt apart and dropped more of his cum onto my face and into my mouth. I was in heaven!

As Darren finished dressing to leave, he said to my wife, “Hey Baby, I could use some cash.”

My wife looked at me and said, “Pay the man whatever he wants wimp, he’s just made me very happy!”

I got Darren $80, thanked him for fucking us, and drove him home. I admitted to myself that day four was indeed tougher than the first three, thank God I’d be back at work for most of day five!

To be continued…

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