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Cette histoire a déjà été publiée il y a longtemps par Dunn81 mais l’orthographe et la forme de l’écriture en gâchait l’intérêt. Avec son accord je la publie de nouveau corrigée… dans la mesure de mes capacités!

Chapitre 1 —

Camille, âgée de 18 ans, était une nouvelle étudiante à l’université. C’était sa première année et elle était pressée de rejoindre le campus. La jeune fille était une belle blonde de 95D avec de belles petites fesses bien fermes. Ses gros seins contrastaient avec le reste de son corps. Camille était une fille introvertie mais qui avait toujours d’excellentes notes à l’école.

La résidence universitaire était exclusivement réservée aux femmes et c’était la rentrée aujourd’hui. Camille rejoint la chambre où elle allait passer les quatre prochaines années de sa vie. Elle constata qu’il y avait deux lits séparés par un paravent assez large… le lit de droite était déjà occupé. Elle constata également qu’il y avait une salle de bain à coté de ce lit comprenant une douche et un wc dans très peu d’espace. Camille déposa ses affaires sur le lit de gauche et commença à sortir ses livres. Elle enfila une paire de lunette et commença à en lire un.

Deux heures plus tard, la porte s’ouvrit et Camille vit entrer une femme noire vraiment très belle. Camille se leva un peu surprise de découvrir que sa colocataire était une femme de couleur et en plus, plus âgée qu’elle. Disons que les femmes noires étaient plutôt rares ici. Camille se leva en lui présentant la main pour l’accueillir.

« Hey! Mon nom est Jasmine, c’est quoi cette main? On va vivre ensemble pas besoin de se serrer la main comme des inconnues! Allez viens ici! »

Jasmine du haut de ses 1m80 avait un corps athlétique et musclé. Elle prit Camille dans ses bras et la serra bien fort. Surprise par cette accolade Camille recula essayant de garder un de distance entre elle et sa colocataire. Jasmine avançait toujours en regardant les affaires qu’elle avait rangées près de son lit. Camille avait les fesses contre le mur.

Camille : « Tu.. Tu as l’air de bien connaître ici? Moi c’est ma première année. »

Jasmine : « Oooh…une première année! Ouais… je connais assez bien… »

Camille et Jasmine commencent à parler de l’université et des endroits intéressants. Camille est ravie d’avoir trouvé la bonne question pour calmer un peu l’ardeur de Jasmine qui semble être tout le contraire d’elle. Elle est extravertie, sans gêne… mais semble avoir bon cœur.

Jasmine est repartie retrouver ses amies. Camille est ravie d’avoir déjà une bonne relation avec sa colocataire mais elle reste tout de même sur ses gardes.

Si Camille est une vraie beauté avec une très bonne éducation elle est trop réservée pour avoir eu une relation avec un gars. Elle en a quand même repoussé quelques uns en secondaire, trop directs dans leur approche. Camille n’aimait pas trop les prétentieux bien trop sûrs d’eux.

Deux mois plus tard les choses avaient changées, la routine s’était installée. Jasmine invitait souvent ses amies dans la chambre même si Camille n’aimait pas trop voir et surtout entendre ces amies très bruyantes qui buvaient beaucoup de bière et en plus fumaient des joints. Jasmine proposait toujours à Camille de prendre une bière avec elles et de fumer un joint mais celle-ci avait toujours poliment refusé disant vouloir étudier. Elle était réservée, n’avait jamais touché aux joints et seulement bu quelques rares fois sans jamais exagérer.

Un jour Camille est allée en sport en oubliant ses vêtements de rechange. De retour dans sa chambre, elle fonça sous la douche après avoir mis ses vêtements sales imprégnés de sueur dans un sac. Elle se lavait soigneusement quand elle elle entendit des voix… Elle reconnut les amis de Jasmine. Elle n’avait malheureusement pas pris ses vêtements propres pensant qu’elle était seule cette après-midi. Elle allait devoir passer devant ces filles nue… seulement vêtue d’une serviette. Elle ouvrit le tiroir et ne trouva qu’une seule vieille serviette trop courte pour la couvrir. Camille ne savais plus trop quoi faire, elle essaya de prendre son temps en espérant qu’elle quitte la chambre.

Elle prit le séchoir à cheveux qu’elle utilisa longtemps, espérant que Jasmine comprenne la situation mais soudain elle entendit frapper à la porte.

TOC TOC TOC!

« Putain! Qu’est-ce que tu fous dans les chiottes! Ça fait une éternité! J’ai envie de pisser bordel… faut que la bière descende! »

C’était une des amies de Jasmine. Camille essaya de se couvrir du mieux qu’elle put avec la serviette. Elle décida de cacher ses seins mais en cachant ses seins la serviette trop courte dévoilait ses fesses. En se regardant dans le miroir et elle essaya de l’ajuster au mieux pour ne pas trop exposer ni ses fesses ni son sexe. Elle fit un compromis entre les deux elle n’avait pas d’autres choix… elle irait rapidement jusqu’à son lit en contournant le paravent pour se rhabiller. Camille ouvrit la porte. Une femme noire assez petite se précipita vers le wc mais les deux femmes bursa escort ne passaient pas dans le petit espace qu’était la salle de bain. La serviette commençait à glisser et pendant que la fille forçait le passage Camille essayait de maintenir la serviette en place…

Enfin sortie, Camille ferma la porte et regarda les quatre autres femmes noires qui fumaient des joints tout en buvant de la bière. La chambre était remplie de fumée. Camille était morte de honte. Elle était comme une proie trop terrifiée pour faire quoi que ce soit… Une des black pris la parole, c’était une femme très grande et grosse. Elle devait mesurer presque 1m90, avec des rondeurs un peu partout qui recouvraient ses muscles.

« Oooh Jasm’ tu nous as caché cette blanche? Ce petit sucre blanc m’a l’air délicieux hahaha »

Toutes se mirent à rire, y compris celle qui était aux toilettes.

Jasmine : « C’est ma coloc’… »

Camille reprit ses esprits et hocha la tête pour les saluer de manière un peu gênée puis marcha jusqu’à son lit mais avant de passer derrière le paravent Jasmine prit la parole.

« Camille, je vais te présenter le groupe. »

Camille en fille bien éduquée revint vers Jasmine pour se faire présenter chacune des femmes qui avaient toutes les yeux sur elle.

Jasmine : « Celle-ci c’est Donna. »

Donna était celle qui mesurait presque 1m90. Elle avait l’air d’une femme dans la quarantaine avec une coupe de cheveux très courte qui ressemblait plutôt à une coupe pour homme. Je ne voyais pas trop le lien qu’elle avait avec Jasmine même si je commençais à me poser des questions sur sa sexualité. C’était également la seule avec des chaussures ou plutôt des bottes de travail. Toutes les autres étaient pieds nus. Donna était assise sur une chaise au milieu de la chambre. Elle avait vraiment l’air d’un homme. Quant à moi par respect même si je n’aimais pas trop son attitude je lui présentais ma main. Toutes riaient à part Jasmine qui essayait tant bien que mal de se retenir…

Donna : « Yoo! C’est quoi ça? On est sur une place publique? T’es banquière? Hahaha… je te montre comment on se présente dans la rue »

Donna ce leva tant bien que mal et fit un accolade à Camille mais en appuyant sur son bras droit ce qui fit tomber la serviette, exposant toute sa nudité. Camille essaya de reprendre sa serviette mais Donna la tenait encore dans ses bras ce qui l’en empêchait. Les femmes riaient de façon incontrôlable probablement à cause de la marijuana.

Jasmine : « Ooook Donna! Lâche-la! »

Donna lâcha Camille en lui envoyant un baiser avec la main, Camille ramassa sa serviette pour se recouvrir.

Jasmine : « Celle-ci c’est Cherry. »

Cherry était une vrai beauté. Elle avait vraiment l’air d’une étudiante. Elle était vêtue d’une robe très sexy. Grande et athlétique malgré un derrière assez gros, les cheveux long. Son regard était perçant si on le croisait. Cherry était également la seule avec Jasmine à avoir les lèvres maquillées. Elle semblait plus distinguée et devait avoir la 20aine. Elle me serra la main en me tirant un peu ce qui me fit perdre un peu ma serviette.

Cherry : « Désolée! »

Je souris en lui lâchant la main.

Jasmine : « Barb »

Je m’approchais de Barb mais je voyais bien qu’elle n’en avait rien à faire. Elle avait les deux pieds nus sur le bureau de Jasmine et portait un débardeur jauni par la sueur probablement. Il était sûrement blanc avant d’être aussi sale… elle me paraissait plutôt quelqu’un qui pourrait travailler comme concierge à l’école. Quelque chose de ce genre… son regard ne croisa jamais le mien. Elle fumait son joint sans me parler. Je me tournais alors vers Jasmine qui me présenta celle qui ressortait des toilettes.

Jasmine : « Et enfin Eevie »

Je ne l’avais clairement pas attendu faire couler l’eau pour se laver les mains mais probablement que j’étais trop préoccupée par cette situation humiliante. Eevie qui m’ignorait tout à l’heure me dévorait maintenant des yeux. Je lui présentais ma main qu’elle prit en ne regardant que mes seins qui débordaient, mon derrière et mon sexe. Eevie mesurait environ 1m75, elle semblait être le bout en train du groupe et avait probablement la trentaine…

Je me retournais pour aller enfin vers mon lit quand elle me tapa sur les fesses tout en prenant le joint qui passait par là.

J’étais pratiquement certaine que Donna et Eevie étaient lesbiennes et pas des lesbiennes très agréables. Je dis salut à tout le monde et repartis vers mon lit mais Cherry en bloqua l’accès.

Cherry : « Ooh come on! Maintenant qu’on te connaît tu pourrais bien venir t’asseoir avec nous question d’en apprendre plus sur toi »

Cherry tenait fermement Camille par le bras tout en souriant et, en poussant un petit rire, elle la fit gentiment s’asseoir sur un siège. Camille remarqua rapidement que sa serviette ne lui servait plus à grand-chose assise et ressemblais plus à une serviette pour s’asseoir dessus que pour cacher ses parties.

Toute la chambre était silencieuse maintenant bursa escort bayan devant Camille qui exposaient dorénavant toute sa nudité.

Elle n’osait pas croiser le regard des autres femmes, elle entendait des petits rires.. Camille regarda finalement Jasmine qui la regarda de manière interrogative. Donna quant à elle la dévorait des yeux et se frottait les mains. Cherry avait un sourire très satisfait tandis que Barb lui faisait des clins d’œil. Camille refusa de regarder Eevie qui à son avis était la plus extrême du groupe.

Cherry s’approcha de Camille et commença à parler du campus. Soudainement toute les autres femmes parlait de tout et de rien en oubliant la nudité de Camille. Camille se sentit plus à l’aise mais était très attentive à ce qui ce passait essayant de trouver une opportunité pour sortir de cette situation.

Jasmine pris un verre en plastique et le lui donna. Camille cru voir de l’eau dans le verre, elle sentit le contenu, c’était un alcool fort. Elle bu une petite gorgée et en effet c’était du gin. Elle eut du mal à le boire et n’en revenait pas que les autres puissent toutes avaler ça dans un verre en plastique sans glace d’un coup sec. Après quelques minutes, elle sentit une chaleur relaxante monter en elle. L’effet de l’alcool commençait à se faire sentir.

Cherry s’avança vers Camille en lui passant le joint mais les yeux de Camille s’écarquillèrent, embêtée qu’elle était de passer encore pour une originale et s’exposer à des rires en redevenant le centre de l’attention. Elle n’avait jamais fumé de sa vie pas même une cigarette. Cherry vit que Camille ne savait pas comment faire…

Cherry : « C’est cool Camille, dit-t-elle de manière rassurante, on peut se faire des shotgun »

Camille ne savait pas ce qu’était des «shotgun» mais elle fit oui de la tête. Cherry pris le joint et respira le plus qu’elle put remplissant toute sa bouche. Elle pencha son superbe visage vers Camille qui regardait ses lèvres rouges en pensant qu’elle allait peut-être l’embrasser. Cherry était une vraie beauté et elle se demandait si Cherry était comme Donna et Eevie. Peut-être était-elle lesbienne aussi? Camille quant à elle n’était pas lesbienne.

Les autres commencèrent à exploser de rire. Camille se demandait pourquoi? Peut-être que son visage l’avait trahie… peut-être que ses pensées se lisaient dans ses yeux. Jasmine sauva Camille.

Jasmine : « Camille, Cherry va te souffler dessus avec sa fumée. Toi tu respires le tout lentement le plus longtemps possible. »

Camille obéit à Jasmine et se prépara à respirer toute la fumée avec sa bouche. Les lèvres de Cherry étais à quelques centimètres des siennes, elle respira tout. Sa tête tournait maintenant mais ce n’était pas à cause de la Marijuana. C’était l’érotisme de ce qui se passait… les lèvres de cette superbe femme noire qui auraient pu toucher les siennes sans le vouloir. C’était surprenant pour elle de ressentir ce sentiment dans le ventre et elle sentait son sexe s’humidifier.

« Oh, je ne ferais jamais une telle chose » se disait-elle en elle tout en continuant à respirer la fumée projeter par les lèvres sensuelles de Cherry.

Les femmes en délire riaient devant la scène tout en applaudissant.

Cherry souriait à Camille, devinant la chaleur qui envahissait le corps de Camille. Les autres continuaient de boire et à s’envoyer des shotgun jusqu’à ce qu’au quatrième tour après avoir roulé un autre joint, Cherry s’approche pour proposer un autre shotgun… Entre la marijuana et l’alcool, Camille était maintenant très relaxe.

Barb se leva d’un coup et demanda de la laisser faire. Elle s’empara du joint sans que la belle Cherry n’ai le temps de réagir. Barb l’alluma pour ensuite prendre la tête de Camille entre ses deux mains et l’appuyer contre le mur. Elle souffla au visage de Camille qui s’étouffa et se mit à tousser.

Jasmine : « Shotgun respire Camille »

La voix de Jasmine la rassura. Elle ouvrit alors la bouche et respira mais se rendit compte que ses fines lèvres s’étaient collées à celles épaisses de Barb. Elle respirait à L’intérieur de la bouche de Barb et ne pouvait pas se retirer sa tête étant tenue par celle-ci. Camille ferma les yeux et s’abandonna à ses émotions, elle qui était complètement stone et saoule.

Elle sentait son ventre gonfler et son sexe semblait vouloir exploser tellement le plaisir y était. Toute la chambre ne parlait plus et regardait la scène.

Camille embrassait Barb sans s’en rendre vraiment compte. Barb répondit en l’embrassant plus profondément laissant sa langue explorer la bouche de Camille. Camille n’avait jamais embrassé personne sur la bouche avant. C’était une agréable expérience. Barb toucha les seins de Camille en même temps et descendit son pantalon. Elle n’avait aucun sous-vêtements. Maintenant, debout, sa chatte se trouva presque au niveau du visage de Camille et celle-ci sentit l’odeur forte qui s’en dégageait. Barb n’était clairement pas la plus propre du groupe. Soudain elle porta sa chatte plus près du visage de Camille…

Eevie escort bursa : « Putain Jasmine, t’as une vraie pute blanche! »

Camille qui avait les yeux fermés les ouvrit et réalisa la situation. Elle rejeta aussitôt Barb qui se demanda ce qu’il se passait.

Barb : « Fuck Camille, tu aimais ça non!? Tu m’as embrassée! Finis le job! »

Camille n’en revenait pas, elle était morte de honte et aurait voulu s’enfuir mais ses jambes étaient molles et faibles. Elle regardait Jasmine qui avaient la bouche grande ouverte de surprise. Elle réalisa qu’elle ne pouvait pas se laisser aller comme ça et se leva pour rejoindre son lit mais Cherry l’attrapa par le bras.

Cherry : « Où penses-tu aller comme ça fille blanche? » lui demanda-t-elle avec un sourire en coin. Cherry avait l’air plus intimidante maintenant que le soleil s’était couché et que la chambre était sombre.

Camille : « S’il te plaît…, pleurnicha-t-elle en essayant de rejoindre la sécurité de son lit, je veux juste m’en aller »

Cherry secoua la tête en signe de négation.

« Tu crois que tu peux nous montrer tes gros seins de blanche et nous agacer en montrant tes parties à tout le monde et puis partir comme ça sans finir le job? »

Son regard était méchant et affamée.

Camille regardait Cherry confuse : « Qu’est-ce que tu veux dire? »

Cherry : « T’es soit stupide soit une allumeuse! »

Elle tordait le bras de Camille. « Quoi qu’il en soit ta jolie face blanche va payer pour les messages que ton corps nous a envoyés toute la soirée »

Camille : « Mais c’est un malentendu… Mes vêtements sont pleins de sueur… et j’ai oublié mes vêtements de rechange… »

Personne n’écoutait les excuses de Camille. Eevie attrapa son autre bras et la projeta au sol. Donna se mit sur ses chevilles pour la l’immobiliser.

Camille : « S’IL VOUS PLAÎT » supplia-t-elle en cherchant son souffle, laissez-moi partir »

Mais Camille ne pouvait pas faire grand-chose d’autre que protester tellement son esprit était brumeux.

Barb s’était placée au-dessus de sa tête lui exposant sa chatte.

« Fait le Barb! Donne lui ce qu’elle cherche cette petite pute blanche! » dit Cherry d’un ton sadique.

Le peu de cervelle qui fonctionnait encore chez Camille lui disait qu’elle n’était pas une PUTE. Elle ne voulait pas de relation lesbienne quoiqu’elles fassent. Mais qu’était-il arrivé à Cherry qui parlait si bien et semblait si gentille. Elle était RACISTE!

Barb : « Il est temps de finir ce que tu as commencé l’allumeuse!»

Et Barb descendit tranquillement sa chatte très poilue et malodorante sur le visage de Camille qui avait les deux yeux grands ouverts comme un animal traqué incapable de s’enfuir. À quelques centimètres de son nez, Camille pouvait sentir la chaleur de la chatte de Barb. Posée maintenant sur son visage, Barb se masturbait en se frottant la chatte et le cul sur le nez de Camille. Celle-ci sentait en même temps ses seins se faire tripoter et pincer par les trois autres Eevie, Donna et Cherry. Jasmine quant à elle regardait la scène de son lit, excitée mais aussi pensive…

Pour la jeune blonde tout cela parut une éternité. Donna prit la place de Barb et contrairement à Barb insista pour qu’elle lui lèche la chatte. Camille se tassait mais elle avait beaucoup de mal pour respirer sous le poids de l’amazone Donna. Du coup, elle n’eut pas d’autre choix que de lui lécher la chatte qui comme celle de Barb était excessivement poilue et sentait fort. Camille pleurait en même temps. Pour Barb et Donna l’hygiène ne semblait vraiment pas être une priorité. Donna finit par gicler sur le jeune visage angélique.

C’était au tour de Cherry d’avancer vers elle.

«Elle aussi veut se faire lécher, se dit Camille. Mais Cherry avait une toute autre idée… elle exposa son derrière au visage de Camille en riant… puis lui cracha au visage en la forçant à avaler.

Jasmine : « Arrêtez! Vous voyez bien qu’elle n’aime pas ça… » dit -elle choisissant maintenant son camp…

Cherry : « Elle n’aime pas? Demande à sa chatte de blanche toute trempée si elle n’aime pas? Parce qu’elle dit le contraire Jasm’! Elle aime se faire dominer par des Blacks… elle aime nous servir… c’est la seul chose qu’ils méritent ces blancs!»

Jasmine : « S’il te plaît Cherry garde tes remarques pour toi! »

Cherry exposa de nouveau son derrière à Camille, elle écarta ses deux jolies fesses dévoilant son anus et descendit tranquillement jusqu’à la bouche de Camille qui lui obéit et sortie la langue. Camille était en train de lécher l’anus de Cherry… Bizarrement, Cherry était propre et le goût était bien moins écœurant que celui des chattes des deux précédentes. En léchant consciencieusement l’anus de Cherry, Camille se demandait si Cherry n’avait pas raison? Est-ce que être dominée par des blacks la faisait mouiller? L’excitait? Était-elle lesbienne? Camille continuait de pleurnicher surtout quand Cherry qui se masturbait pendant ce temps, lui gicla au visage.

C’était maintenant au tour d’Eevie… Elle commença par lui faire manger son pieds… brièvement. C’était plus pour exprimer sa domination. Ensuite, la chatte exposée au-dessus du visage de Camille couvert des fluides de ses amies elle dit…

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

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

A merci du patron de son époux Pt. 01

Coulybaca / Georges VI

Remarque : cette histoire et les personnages qu’elle met en scène sont purement imaginaires, dans la réalité, les rapports sexuels sous la contrainte et tout autre type de relations illégales sont immorales et condamnées par l’auteur. Tous les personnages ont plus de 18 ans.

Table des matières:

Chapitre I :

1° Le chantage

2° Le banquet.

3° Le local du concierge

4° Le coup de canif dans le contrat

Chapitre II

5° Le bikini

6° La crème à raser

7° Le cocktail

Chapitre III :

8° La partouze

9° Linda et la pute

10° La touche finale

11° De retour au bureau

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

1° LE CHANTAGE

Le mari de Linda, Glenn lui confia ses craintes au cours du vol.

Après le scandale financier, les chèques disparus, il risquait de devenir le parfait bouc émissaire.

Linda tenta de le rassurer, elle savait son mari d’une honnêteté scrupu-leuse.

Quelqu’un d’autre, de la compagnie avait du s’emparer des chèques.

Mais elle était bien d’accord avec lui, seul Ron le grand patron pourrait le protéger désormais.

Tout dépendait de lui : allait-il couvrir Glenn, voire même le disculper, ou allait-il l’accabler, voir même le dénoncer pour détournement de fonds.

Linda savait que Ron avait toujours bien traité Glenn.

C’était un homme corpulent, grand, un peu plus âgé que Glenn et Linda.

Glenn lui avait suggéré de le rencontrer.

Virtuellement tous les employés du bureau régional de Glenn devaient passer le week-end à l’hôtel, mais Linda était la seule conjointe ayant accompagné son mari aux frais de la compagnie.

Linda devait passer le week-end à l’hôtel, mais la somptueuse ména-gère, mère de trois enfants, se sentait légèrement embarrassée d’être la seule femme en proie aux compliments de Ron et des autres dirigeants.

Elle avait toujours senti qu’elle devait entretenir des relations cordiales avec les membres de la société, mais dans ses circonstances elle se demandait si elle parviendrait à se montrer convaincante et décontrac-tée.

Ron avait ses habitudes dans cet hôtel, il s’était retiré dans sa chambre pour se changer dans la salle de bain lorsqu’il entendit Linda et Glenn entrer dans la chambre voisine de la sienne.

Cette proximité n’était pas le fruit d’une coïncidence.

Ron avait déployé tous ses efforts pour convaincre Glenn d’amener sa ravissante femme, il s’était discrètement arrangé pour qu’ils occupent la chambre voisine de la sienne.

Ron avait rencontré Linda deux ans plus tôt alors qu’ils arrivaient en ville et que Glenn postulait pour un poste de direction.

Glenn était l’un des nombreux candidats encore en lice pour le poste, mais c’est la vue de sa ravissante et sculpturale femme qui avait fait pencher la balance en sa faveur.

Il escomptait bien tirer les bénéfices de son choix ce week-end.

Ron n’avait pas averti délibérément Glenn qu’il était responsable la res-ponsabilité de la disparition de ces foutus chèques qu’il avait personnel-lement encaissés, mais dès la découverte du détournement, Glenn était apparu comme le coupable idéal.

C’est à ce moment que Ron décida de tirer avantage de la situation, de réaliser ses fantasmes concernant la ravissante femme de Glenn en pro-fitant de ses charmes.

Linda était jolie et amicale, mais dire qu’elle était prude ne paraissait pas un terme trop fort pour décrire son comportement guindé de bonne gre-nouille de bénitier.

Encore qu’il fut certain qu’elle passerait outre ses principes pour protéger son époux, sa famille et son standard de vie.

Ron frappa leur porte, et impulsivement jeta un oeil au-delà de Glenn sur Linda mollement étendue sur le lit.

Même son tee-shirt ample ne parvenait pas à dissimuler l’opulence de ses miches.

Ses longues jambes étaient étendues sur le lit, il avait envie de repous-ser Glenn pour sauter sur sa femme si tentante.

Il se contenta de prévenir Glenn que de nombreux employés se retrou-vaient à la piscine de l’hôtel.

Il n’y avait pas d’activités programmées avant le repas de ce soir, Glenn et Linda acceptèrent de se joindre aux invités autour de la piscine.

Ron se tenait dans le jacuzzi de l’hôtel, il discutait avec plusieurs collabo-rateurs lorsque Glenn et Linda arrivèrent à la piscine.

Immédiatement la conversation des baigneurs dans le jacuzzi porta sur Linda, chacun se demandait quel type de maillot elle pouvait bien porter sous son short et son tee-shirt.

James et Larry deux collaborateurs de Ron du même niveau que Glenn reluquaient avec concupiscence les formes de la sculpturale beauté.

James avança qu’il espérait qu’elle porte u bikini, mais Ron et Larry étaient d’avis qu’il était plus vraisemblable qu’elle porte un classique maillot une pièce qui correspondrait mieux à sa personnalité.

Ils la lorgnèrent tous trois passant son tee-shirt au-dessus de sa tête dé-voilant un maillot une pièce bleue des bursa escort plus classiques.

Ils grognèrent de convoitise lorsqu’elle dégrafa la ceinture de son short, se penchant en avant pour s’en dépouiller.

Son maillot était d’une coupe très classique, cependant il était destiné à des jeunes femmes ayant des petites poitrines, ce qui fait que lorsqu’elle se penchait, elle exposait en grande partie ses avantages mammaires.

Glenn et Linda se joignirent au groupe batifolant dans le jacuzzi.

Il n’y avait pas assez de place pour qu’ils soient tous assis confortable-ment, aussi Ron invita-t-il Linda à se serrer contre lui, alors que Glenn s’asseyait à l’autre extrémité du bain bouillonnant.

Linda mit un pied dans l’eau chaude, et resta jambes grandes écartées le temps de reprendre son équilibre.

Dans cette pose une petite touffe de poils bruns s’était échappée à l’en-trejambes de son maillot, tous les hommes l’avaient remarquée, sa toi-son était de la même tonalité que sa chevelure.

Comme Glenn discutait boutique à l’un des bouts du jacuzzi, Ron James et Larry se mirent rapidement à flirter avec Linda.

Linda discutait timidement avec eux, consciente de se trouver dans une étroite proximité de ces hommes avec presque rien sur le dos.

Les trois hommes avaient les yeux rivés sur ses miches.

Le haut de son maillot de bain révélé ses nibards pressés l’un contre l’autre, exposant la démarcation blanche de la peau non bronzée du haut de sa gorge.

Ron et James assis de chaque coté de sa petite personne, pressaient leurs hanches contre les siennes. Linda n’avait suffisamment de place pour esquiver leurs présences envahissantes et comme elle n’offrait au-cune résistance, Ron posa sa main sur sa cuisse.

Linda était extrémité gênée de ce geste, mais la précarité de la situation de son mari l’obligeait à ne pas risquer de mettre en colère Ron en pro-testant à haute voix contre ce geste par trop intime.

Tandis qu’ils conversaient Ron lui caressait nonchalamment sa cuisse nue, cette caresse lascive affolait Linda, mais elle n’osait pas protester.

Finalement, comme la main de Ron atteignait sa fourche sexuelle, Linda se leva d’un bond et piqua une tête dans la piscine.

C’était une petite victoire pour Ron, il savait maintenant qu’il pouvait se permettre certaines privautés avec Linda, elle n’oserait pas faire de scène, encore moins créer de scandale.

Glenn et Linda remontèrent dans les étages pour se préparer pour le banquet. Dans le jacuzzi, les trois hommes reprirent leur conversation concernant Linda, elle semblait être chaude mais si traditionaliste.

– “Elle fera une entorse à ses beaux principes ce week-end! …” se vanta Ron.

– “Ca m’étonnerait fort que ce soit le genre de femme à déroger à ses convictions.. ” le contra Larry.

– “Il faut juste savoir sur quel bouton appuyer pur subjuguer une femme… “poursuivit Ron

– “Vous allez regarder travailler le maître les gars! … Après ce week-end, Linda vous apparaîtra bien différente deactuellement! …”

Ron se pressa de retourner dans sa chambre, il faisait maintenant assez noir, il se glissa sur son balcon et jeta un coup d’œil dans la chambre de ses voisins au travers d’une petite déchirure du rideau.

Il était arrivé au bon moment pour voir Linda parader dans la chambre en petite culotte et soutien-gorge. Il braqua les yeux sur son ample soutien-gorge blanc qui maintenait ses nichons, sa culotte de coton blanc épou-sait étroitement la forme de sa chatoune et de son cul tout rond.

Elle portait des sous-vêtements particulièrement conventionnels qui correspondaient à son caractère des plus traditionalistes.

Elle s’assit sur son lit pour enfiler des collants, lorsqu’elle se penchait ses nibards débordaient largement de ses bonnets.

Elle se releva et glissa ses collants sur sa culotte de coton, tortillant des hanches pour faciliter l’opération.

Ron ne se sentait pas trop frustré de ne pas l’avoir vu nue, il savait perti-nemment qu’il en aurait l’occasion d’ici la fin du week-end.

2 ° LE BANQUET

Ron s’était arrangé pour que Linda soit assise à coté de lui pendant le banquet.

Ils ont étaient attablé autour d’une grande table ronde, le dos au mur.

La majorité femmes qui participaient au banquet, femmes de clients, femmes d’employés d’autres divisions, portaient des robes élégantes et coûteuses, mais Linda, toujours dans son rôle, portait une petite robe de coton fermée par une fermeture éclair dans le dos.

Elle était à mi-jarret avec un décolleté au ras du cou, mais elle ne parve-nait toutefois pas à dissimuler l’opulence de sa poitrine. Ron était assis à sa gauche, Glenn à sa droite, Linda détestait ce genre de dîner, elle écoutait les conversations, encore alarmée par les caresses de Ron dans le jacuzzi.

Alors qu’il lui parlait, il glissa sa main sous la table et la posa sur une de ses cuisses.

Linda ne pouvait pas se permettre le luxe de le rabrouer sèchement avec son mari à coté d’elle. Elle dut l’autoriser à bursa escort bayan la caresser au travers de sa jupe et de ses collants.

Le repas et les discours terminés, un orchestre se mit à jouer, les gens commencèrent à danser. Comme à son habitude, Glenn circulait parmi les invités, saluant les clients invités et les chefs de service d’autres sec-tions, de ce fait Linda se retrouvait seule avec Ron.

– “Etes vous au courant des problèmes de Glenn au boulot? …” de-manda soudain Ron.

– “Oui, il m’en a parlé…” répliqua Linda inquiète de le voir aborder ce sujet.

– “Si cette histoire venait à être connue de tous, ce serait la fin de la carrière de Glenn! … Il aurait beau dire, beau faire, il serait accusé de détournement de fonds! ….”

Tout en discutant Ron lui pelotait la cuisse, affermissant son emprise, il la caressait en petits gestes circulaires qui se rapprochaient de son en-trejambe.

Lorsqu’il atteignit sa fourche sexuelle, Linda sursauta et se releva vive-ment.

– “Je vous prie de m’excuser, mais je dois aller, me rafraîchir au ca-binet de toilette…..”

– “Dansez avec moi! …” lui intima Ron d’une voix autoritaire.

– “Oh, non-merci, plus tard peut-être…”

– “Juste une danse…” insista Ron sèchement affichant un masque sévère.

Linda accepta à contrecœur, ayant soudain peur de cet homme qui avait entre ses mains le sort de son mari.

Il l’emmena dans un coin éloigné de la piste de danse, un coin obscur de la salle.

Dès le début du slow, Ron avait serré étroitement Linda contre lui, il sen-tait battre son opulente poitrine contre son torse, il lui caressait cynique-ment la croupe et poussa sa jambe entre ses cuisses.

– “Glenn vous a-t-il dit qui pourrait le sortir de ce gâchis? ….” l’inter-rogea-t-il.

– “Il m’a dit que vous le pouviez! …”

– « C’est exact! …. Je suis le seul à pouvoir le tirer d’affaire… J’aime bien votre mari… Je ne voudrai pas voir sa vie professionnelle ruinée… Mais ce serait prendre un bien grand risque que de le couvrir! …”

– “Je vous serai extrêmement reconnaissante d’intervenir pour le sauver! ….”

– “J’espérai bien que vous me diriez cela! … Mais je demande quel-ques faveurs en compensation… “

Affolée Linda lui demanda d’une voix sourde :

– “Et… Que… Que devrai-je faire? …”

Ron empauma ses fesses avec avidité. Elle sentait ses doigts suivre les courbes de son cul, il avait plaqué ses deux mains sur ses rotondités avenantes et les malaxait lascivement. Linda était abasourdie, mais se tut.

– “Tout ce que je te dirai pendant ce week-end! … Je veux que tu sois mienne pendant tout le week-end! … Glenn n’en saura rien! ….Et lundi, en retournant au bureau, je trafiquerai les écritures et vos problèmes s’évanouiront… “

Linda jeta un coup d’œil circulaire histoire de voir si quelqu’un pouvait voir Ron lui tripoter les fesses. Son dos était tourné vers le kiosque, de ce fait seuls les musiciens pouvaient voir ce qu’il lui faisait. Le fin tissu de sa robe ne prêtait guère de résistance aux privautés qu’il s’octroyait, mais l’épais collant qui lui maintenait les fesses le gênait beaucoup dans ses entreprises.

Ron remonta sa main sous son aisselle, son pouce suivait la bretelle de son soutien-gorge. Il avança sa main la passa dans l’emmanchure de sa robe et empauma rudement son gros nibard bien ferme au travers de son soutien-gorge, il titilla du pouce son mamelon érigé.

Linda se tenait coite alors qu’il lui pelotait le bas du dos et le nichon droit tout en pressant sa bite déployée contre ses cuisses.

Son cœur battait la chamade alors que son visage la brûlait.

La danse lui semblait avoir duré une éternité lorsqu’en fin le slow se ter-mina et que Ron la ramena à sa chaise.

Comme son époux n’était toujours pas revenu, Linda s’assit avec Ron en bout de table.

Ron ne perdit pas de temps pour glisser sa main sous la table, sous sa longue robe. Il lui palpait les cuisses au travers de ses collants, baladant sa main sur la face interne de ses cuisses. Il aimait le contact deu nylon gainant ses jambes.

“Etes vous d’accord avec mon marché? ….” l’interrogea Ron suavement.

Linda bégaya :

– “Euh.. Ou… Ou… Oui… ” Elle jeta un nouveau coup d’œil, vérifiant que personne ne leur prêtait une attention particulière.

La main de Ron s’approchait de son entrejambe.

– “Ecartez vos cuisses! …” lui commanda-t-il entre ses dents.

Sans un mot, elle s’exécuta misérablement lui livrant un accès aisé à son entrejambe protégé par le fond du collant.

Elle se tenait raide sur sa chaise, légèrement penchée en avant alors qu’il lui palpait rudement la chatte au travers du collant.

Choquée, bien qu’abritée par la lourde nappe, elle se sentit rougir alors que le patron de son mari lui palpait la chatte pendant ce qui lui sembla durer des heures.

Humiliée bien plus que furieuse, elle réalisait que ces caresses subies à contrecœur commençaient à l’exciter.

Et plus elle escort bursa cherchait à l’ignorer, plus son excitation grandissait, elle res-pirait avec de plus en plus de peine, et avait bien du mal à s’empêcher de se trémousser sur sa chaise.

Elle comprit qu’elle était sur le point de jouir, elle avait une peur intense d’attirer l’attention sur elle aussi tentait-elle de toutes ses forces de re-pousser cet orgasme non désiré, mais il était trop tard.

Elle avala sa salive et gémit sourdement, elle se tortilla sur sa chaise re-fermant les cuisses sur la main de Ron et frissonna longuement.

– “Mais tu jouis comme une salope! …” commenta Ron hilare.

Humiliée comme jamais, Linda se redressa vivement, se releva et se di-rigea rapidement vers les toilettes.

Elle trouva les toilettes réservées aux dames en bas du hall dans un re-coin du vestiaire de la salle des banquets.

Elle s’enferma dans une cabine et se mit à pleurer silencieusement alors qu’elle essayait d’essuyer l’entrejambe de ses collants et de sa petite culotte empesé par sa cyprine.

3° LE LOCAL DU CONCIERGE

Linda avait assez repris ses esprits pour sortir du cabinet de toilette, elle était déterminée à opposer plus de résistance aux avances de Ron.

Peut-être que si elle se montrait plus ferme avec lui, il cesserait ses into-lérables privautés, cependant elle avait une telle peur de le courroucer.

Comme elle tournait au coin du couloir désert, elle rentra en collision avec Ron. Il lui saisit la main

Elle voulut protester mais Ron posa son doigt sur ses lèvres et lui mur-mura :

– “Shuuuuuuuuuuutttt…”

Il l’entraîna en arrière dans le couloir et ouvrit une porte, ils se trouvaient dans le local du concierge, il la poussa à l’intérieur alluma la lumière et ferma la porte dans son dos.

Avant qu’elle eut le temps de dire quoi que ce soit, Ron la repoussa contre la porte et pressa ses lèvres contre les siennes.

Il lui roula un patin, visitant sa bouche de la langue et Linda étourdie de tant d’audace entrelaça sa langue autour de la sienne.

Il posa sa main droite sur ses nichons et les palpa au travers de son cor-sage et de son fin soutien-gorge. Ron serrait et pétrissait les grosses mamelles.

Linda entendait des gens parler dans le couloir, elle n’avait qu’une peur, que quelqu’un ouvre la porte! …..

Elle aurait voulu protester, mais elle avait peur de faire le moindre bruit qui révélerait leur présence.

Ron tendit sa main libre dans son cou, et dégrafa sa robe, descendant la fermeture éclair au bas de son dos.

Gentiment mais fermement il repoussa sa robe sur ses épaules, ses bras et enfin sur sa taille.

Linda se retrouvait maintenant la poitrine uniquement voilée de son af-friolant soutien-gorge.

Il abaissa les bretelles de son soutien-nénés, il sortit alors ses gros ni-bards de leurs bonnets.

Il admira rapidement ses grosses mamelles, ses larges aréoles bruns foncés, coiffées de ses longs tétons dardés.

Il reprit ses embrassades tout en la caressant lubriquement.

Sa bouche se promena dans son cou puis il s’attarda sur ses mamelons capturant son téton droit entre ses lèvres.

Le buste de Linda se soulevait au gré de son souffle alors qu’il mâchouil-lait son mamelon.

Elle entendait clairement les clapotis provenant du léchage de ses té-tons, Ron allait rapidement d’un téton à l’autre.

Sa main droite glissa sur la hanche de Linda et trouva l’ourlet de sa robe, il remonta sa main sous sa robe atteignant rapidement son entrecuisses.

Il empoigna fermement sa croupe et lui pelota rapidement les fesses.

Il la poussa contre la porte et profita de son déséquilibre pour lui écarter les cuisses en grand palpant ainsi aisément sa chatte au travers de ses collants et de sa petite culotte.

Au prix de quelques efforts, il parvint à glisser sa main dans la ceinture de ses collants, dan sa petite culotte, il entreprit alors d’explorer d’une main avide la fourrure fournie qui cachait sa fentine.

Il la parcourait maintenant d’un doigt agile, ils furent tous deux surpris de constater que sa chatte inondée de cyprine.

Linda posa sa main sur ses épaules, elle voulait le repousser mais ses efforts furent vains.

C’est alors qu’elle entendit des voix familières résonner de l’autre coté de la porte.

Ron plongea ses deux mains sous sa robe, agrippa les ceintures de ses collants et de sa petite culotte, et les lui tira sous les fesses.

Il les tira lentement au bas de ses cuisses, puis au-delà ses genoux, et enfin sur ses chevilles, il agrippa sa cuisse et releva son pied droit pour que les deux sous-vêtements passent l’obstacle, lui permettant de lui ou-vrir les cuisses en grand.

Collants et petite culotte étaient maintenant tirebouchonnés autour de sa cheville gauche.

Il s’agenouilla, la tête au niveau de son ventre, remonta sa jupe à sa taille, pour la première fois il s’offrait le spectacle de sa chatte dénudée elle était couverte d’un buisson fourni de poils bruns foncés.

Lui empoignant à deux mains ses fesses nues, il plongea son visage dans son entrecuisse, et parcourut avidement sa fentine de la pointe de la langue enfonçant sa langue aussi profondément qu’habilement dans sa foufoune soudain embrasée.

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“Are you coming out any time soon?”

“I’ll be just a few more seconds! Keep your pants on!”

I had left him on the sofa only a few minutes ago but I guess all the time we had spent kissing had really got his blood running. I didn’t especially want to stop either, but I had a special surprise for him tonight. I had decided to fulfill one of his fantasies. For weeks I had been planning this night: the discreet shopping excursions, trying to hide it all in a bedroom with no closet. This was going to be a treat for both of us.

When I finished changing my clothes, I peeked through the keyhole and watched him squirming on the loveseat, trying to find the best way to sit and still be comfortable with the obvious hard-on I had given him. I waited until he looked like he was about to loose patience and come to get me, checked myself one last time in my dresser mirror, turned off the overhead light and opened the door. I posed for him with one arm stretched over my head leaning on the frame. My other arm came across my midsection and rested on the opposite hip.

” Final …” He trailed off. I knew what I looked like and his inability to finish that word was the highest compliment. He saw me standing there in black penny loafers, complete with bright new pennies. Navy blue cotton socks that reached just below my knee covered my calves. Pleated blue and white plaid circled my waist and ended mid thigh. St Andrews tartan: I had found my old high school kilt and had tailored it for just this purpose. My shirt was a white Oxford with the sleeves rolled to my elbows. I had left the top few buttons undone so that he could see just a hint of cleavage and a white bra strap. A small silver cross on a fine chain lay glinting in the hollow of my throat. My auburn hair was held away from my face by two tortoise shell barrettes. But the final touch, the one thing I knew he would love the most, were perched on my nose. Black horn rim glasses.

I sashayed over to the sound system next to where he was sitting, following his dark eyes as they climbed up and down my body. I doubt he even knew that he had licked his lips and was starting to lift up off the couch. “Sit down Mister,” I told him coyly. I hit the play button on the CD player. Within seconds the sultry sounds of Portishead filled the room. He opened his mouth to speak but I placed my finger against my lips silencing him, “You can speak later, for now just watch me.”

I had made sure that the CD had only one song on it: my favourite, Sour Times (remix). I put my arms up behind my head lifting the hair off my neck. By the time the first line of bass hit the air I had worked my way to the middle of the small room. I rolled my hips, gyrating myself in a circle. Slowly I lowered my hands running them down my neck, along the sides of my breasts, down my stomach. When they reached my abdomen I turned so that my back was to him and danced in swaying motions to the rhythm of the song. I occasionally threw him a look over my shoulder. He was just sitting there, mouth partly open watching me intently. With every swish of my hips I could feel the kilt brushing against my legs, reminding me just how short it was. I felt fluid. I let the music decide my movements.

I eventually faced him completely and walked over to the sofa in time with the heady beat. I got down on my knees between his open legs, wrapped my arms around my waist and slowly undulated my body like a belly dancer. I lowered my hands to my sides and let them hang limp while I sat back on my heels. I leaned back wards until my head touched the floor and arched my back upwards. The kilt rode high up on my legs, giving him a glimpse of my underwear, my shirt began to pull out of my waistband. I whipped my body up straight, my hair flew forward and I didn’t care that my barrettes were letting loose. I stared him in the eyes and licked my lips with the tip of my tongue as I lowered myself back onto my heels. I placed my cheek against his thigh just as the last note sounded.

The silence that followed was only slightly louder than the rushing of my blood. The two of us were tableaux of the anticipation of lust. “You can talk now,” I whispered. He gently took my jaw in his large hand, lifted my face off of his leg, and leaned down to kiss me. His lips were soft, almost hesitant. I could feel his hand starting to tremble as his thumb caressed the line of my jawbone. I pulled away slightly with him still holding me, and raised my hand to take off the glasses. He grabbed my wrist hard with his free hand, and the palm that was so tender on my face dug deep. “Leave them on.” His voice was harder than I have ever heard it. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I would have been scared, but as it was he still managed to make my blue eyes widen with the ferocity of the command.

He quickly leaned back on the couch pulling me on top of him, my legs on either side of his. The hand that held my wrist twisted my arm around behind tuzla escort me and held it there at the small of my back forcing my stomach to his chest. His other hand reached up into my hair just behind my ear and his thumb ran softly along my cheek. I nuzzled into his touch and looked down at him through hooded lids. His eyes were a sea of questions, lust, and love. The longer I looked into their depths the quicker and shallower my breathing became. I could hear the clock on the wall ticking by the seconds.

“You did this all for me Baby?” he asked quietly. I could only nod. I turned my lips into his palm and kissed it with softness and feigned innocence, while my eyes looked at his wantonly. He let go of my arm and wrapped his around me holding on to me tight. I put my hands to his head and drew him to my chest, kissing his soft black hair, and inhaling the scent of him. I loved the way he always smelled like mixture of soap and sweat. It was the scent of pure male, intoxicating.

I sat myself down on his knees, still straddling him, and searched out his lips with mine. His kiss was no longer gentle, but an ardent need to posses. He lowered his hands to my ass and dug his fingers hard into the cheeks. I couldn’t help but moan into his fervent lips, loud and guttural. He ran his hands along my legs to my knees, back up my thighs and up my sides to rest his palms on the tops of my breasts. Slowly he lowered them so that they ran their length along my nipples. I spread my legs wider so my groin was atop his, and ground down.

He wrapped his arms back around my waist and started kissing down my throat, flicking the cross away with his tongue. His hot lips continued down my chest, pushing me backwards so that the only thing holding me up was the strength of his arms. He made his way down between my breasts, stopping to kiss each one. I could feel the heat of him through my shirt. When he reached my belly, my head was almost touching the floor, my hands still in his hair.

“Hold tight girl.” I locked my fingers behind his neck. In one move he stood up and I locked my ankles around his back. He held me there for a while gripping me so tight that I thought something was wrong, but all I could do was try to hold him tighter. Eventually when my legs began to shake, he pulled his face away from my neck, and placed his forehead against mine, staring me in the eyes over the rims of those devilish glasses. “Stand,” he said. I did so, but only barely, my knees feeling like water. Faster than I could have imagined he was lifting me in the air, my legs over the crook of his arm, his stare never leaving mine. Carrying me, he walked into the bedroom, and closed the door despite no one else being there. He made his way in the dark over to the side of my double bed with no trouble. He placed me on the duvet so carefully, making sure my head was on a pillow, and that I wasn’t too close to the edge. I felt like a fragile doll.

Soft light scared the darkness away from the bed when he turned on the bedside lamp, basking us in its soft glow. He leaned over me and took my face in his hands. “So beautiful. So sweet. All mine.” He released his hold of me and straightened up, stripping off his shirt in one movement. The lamp bathed his skin in golden light and made his eyes sparkle. He crawled onto the bed and kneeled between my legs facing me. He reached back to my feet and pulled off my loafers, tossing them onto the floor behind him. My blood was pounding in my ears so hard I didn’t even hear them hit the floor. He ran his hands up the length of my legs until he reached my lower back. He lifted me up and pulled me towards him fast and hard. My panties were the only thing between his stomach and me. Even that thin strip of fabric was becoming too much of a barrier.

He let me down gently so that I was resting on his thighs. He pulled my shirt from out of my kilt and unbuttoned his way up to the top before opening it wide. The angle he had me on made my breasts rise slightly out of my bra so that not even the modesty of its colour could make me look anything but the licentious nymph. We stayed like that for a moment, devouring each other with our eyes. Growling low, he gathered the sides of my shirt in his hands and pulled me up to meet him. I clasped him to me as he put his hands under my shirt and gripped my shoulders. He sat up and fell forwards onto the bed with me taking his full weight under him. It should have been enough to knock the air out of me but it only served to make me grunt in pleasure. He made me roar as he raked his short nails down my back then gripped the tails of the Oxford pushing it up so that my arms came together above my head. He lifted himself up slightly and teasingly bathed my throat with his tongue, tasting my skin. I wrapped my legs around his hips and tried to pull him closer to me.

His fingers found the front clasp of my bra and flicked ucuz escort it open, letting the weight of my breasts propel the cups aside. I sighed as I felt the heat of his chest come down onto mine and I writhed beneath him, aching to feel his complete nakedness against mine. He pushed both the shirt and bra up off my arms and threw them blindly to the side knocking something from the end table. I didn’t care if it broke. All I cared about was the man on top of me, and the sensations he was giving me.

He slowly kissed his way to my breasts, pushed them together with those strong hands of his and took both my nipples into his mouth. The intense heat of his eager mouth sent shockwaves though my body and I had to ball the duvet up in my fingers to keep from trying to throw him off of me. He bit down tenderly and ran his tongue across their tender tips.

“Oh God!” I screamed so loud that the upstairs neighbour stomped on the floor. I couldn’t help but giggle. It was contagious apparently, because he released my nipples and began to snicker. Our chuckling quickly turned into full on laughter. Those few minutes of humour were enough to cool our ardour somewhat. He rolled over to his side and snuggled up to me. I ran my fingers gently along his arm and shoulder, savouring the feel of his skin. I slid my palm along his chest, down his stomach to his belt and reached inside his pants. He rolled onto his back with a sigh as I caressed the tip of his penis with my thumb, my other fingers encircling him. I raised myself up on my elbow so I could kiss and lick my way from his neck to his stomach, all the while gently squeezing and releasing his shaft. I lay my head over his belly button and looked up at him. “Please,” He whispered to me.

How could I deny him such a request? I got onto my knees perpendicular to him and loosened his belt with my free hand. I teasingly undid each of the buttons on his fly, stopping between each one to dip my head down and nip the soft skin of his sides. With each touch of my teeth he jerked his hips, moving himself in my hand. When the last button was undone, I unfurled my fingers from his pulsing member and swung my leg over his torso. With my back to him I pushed his clothes down his legs. I leaned forward to rid him completely of those pesky pants. The view I was giving him must have been incredible. Topless, still in my kilt and socks, bent forwards so that my white panties were in full view. I let my breasts dangle close to his legs so that my nipples grazed his legs hair. His touch startled me when he caressed the length of my slit over my panties. He slid his fingers underneath the fabric and artfully flicked my clit. My insides clenched in pleasure and I turned to administer him with lavish attention.

I took him deep into my greedy mouth and gently sucked my way up. My tongue felt every detail of his skin, and savoured the taste of his masculinity. I gently grazed my nails along the insides of his thighs before I cupped his balls with one hand and gripped his shaft with the other. Again I lowered my mouth along his length until I could feel him at the back of my throat. I swallowed against him and elicited a deep moan from my man. Incrementally I rose up and ever so gently grazed my teeth along the most sensitive of his skin my hand following my mouth’s assent. When I reached the top I blew softly against him, and watched his organ twitch in my hand. His fingers, which had never stopped their playful game at my centre of pleasure, became very insistent as he easily thrust one into my sopping opening. I moaned low and licked circles around the head I was worshipping. I started to rise and fall on him to the rhythm of his talented fingers. I reached a finger behind his balls and pressed down, rubbing back and forth. I continued to slide down on him lower and lower wanting to have all of him in me. His other hand gripped my calf hard as I successfully deep throated him for the first time. “Sweet Jesus” he cried out as I vacuumed my way back up. I was getting needy too. I wiggled my behind and took his balls gently in my mouth as I whimpered around them, bathed them with my tongue and let them plop audibly from my lips.

He put his hands to my waist and threw me onto my back. I lay there panting, slowly bending my knees as he leisurely striped my panties from me. Carefully he unbuttoned the kilt and laid it open revealing my almost naked body. He crawled over me and placed soft kisses across my chest and neck. I tangled my fingers up in his hair pushing him down to where I most wanted him to kiss. He stopped his decent at the line of my pubic hair and ran his tongue along it. His hands made their way to the backs of my knees and quickly bent my legs up to my shoulders, spreading me wide. The shock and pleasure that ran through me as he circled my clit with his hot tongue made me gasp for air. He tenderly used his teeth to prod that nub ümraniye escort out from under its hood and softly bit down on it. He used his left arm to keep my legs up and brought his right hand over to aid his mouth stopping first to kneed the flesh of my thigh. I heard my wetness as he gradually inserted his finger into me. He bent his knuckle to angle his digit upwards and rubbed the soft tissues of my walls. His tongue was flicking across my clit and his lips sucking gently around it. I had no control over my body. My nails pressed deep into his scalp and my hips bucked under him.

I cried out in ecstasy as he slowly added a second finger. He left my clitoris and lapped up the juices off my labia, sending another shudder though me. He removed his fingers and ran them down to my asshole pressing softly, not trying to enter, but to make me wild with delight. He tickled my vaginal entrance with his tongue before pushing it deep into me, his upper lip pressing hard on my clit. The heat was more than I could handle and my head swam with my impending orgasm. He rested my knees on his shoulders so he could reach up and roll my nipples between his fingers. He knew my body so well, and his mouth was unrelenting as my climax started, spreading heat from the bottoms of my feet, up my legs. My hips jerked wildly, my hands flew from his head flailed about me grabbing anything they could find. My voice was a high-pitched keening screaming his name and God’s.

Before I was completely through, he raised him self up and brought his lips to mine. I could taste myself, and I loved it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips. His penis was hard against my clit as he rocked it slowly back and forth. In one motion he sheathed himself to the hilt inside me. I screamed in his mouth and he groaned in mine. I felt the length and girth of him and spasmed along him with the aftershocks of my orgasm. It was like I was a glove for him I was so tight. I squeezed my walls around him as he pulled back. My hands roamed across his strong back as he slowly pumped me. Our mouths were a frenzy of kisses and nips and bites. Our hands caressed every available inch of skin wanting to touch all of it at once.

He reared up and put his weight on his hands, looming over me, my ankles locked around him. He stared me in the eyes as he continued to move in and out of me with increasingly harder thrusts. I answered each one with a grunt. I was sliding off the bed, my breasts bouncing to my throat in time with his penetrations. My head was hanging off the edge of the bed. Then my shoulders. I was bent backwards at the waist, my head touching the floor and I had to hold myself up with my hands, and he still drove himself into me with relish.

He quickly picked me up and fell backwards so I was straddled over him. I sat up straight so I could feel him pushing deep inside me and rotated my hips around him. He ran his hands along my thighs, gripped my hips hard, arching his back and trying to push more of himself into me. I tilted my head backwards and reached up to hold my breasts, my thumbs caressing my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to where he was imbedded in me. I rose off of him until only the tip of him was left in me then crashed back down on him. Cursing, he grabbed my wrists and yanked me down on top of him, our chests were slick with sweat and I slid back and forth on him, with him in me. He brought his hand to my ass and smacked it once, hard. I squealed and tightened around his shaft as my juices flowed from my body. Whimpering and mewling I found his lips and devoured him with my own.

He pushed me off of him and told me to lie on my stomach. He settled between my legs and pushed my knees together under me. He placed his legs on either side of mine and with agonizing slowness nudged himself into my waiting sheath. He put his hands in my hair and pulled my head back. Again I cried to God. He lowered himself onto me, his chest tight on my back. Like animals, we mated with urgent need, his teeth nibbling the tender flesh at the back of my neck. I found his hands and brought them under me to squeeze my breasts. With each savage thrust we made vocal our excitement. As he went faster so did our cries of passion, until his motion stopped, his hands gripped me tighter. A long growl accompanied his orgasm, my wail harmonizing with him.

His full weight upon me we gasped for breath, neither of us wanting to let the other go just yet. I felt him twitching inside me and responded my clenching back. I turned my head so that we were cheek-to-cheek and nuzzled against him. I was satiated. He reached over and pulled the glasses off my face, kissing my ear lobe, and placed them on the nightstand. He lifted himself off of me and lay down on his back. I straightened out and rolled over to him so he could run his fingers languidly up and down my spine. I put my head in the crook of his shoulder cuddled up to him, and gazed into his sleepy eyes.

“Thank you Baby,” he said with genuine feeling and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the top of my sex tussled hair. I slung one knee sock clad leg over his. “You’re welcome,” I replied with a thick voice. We lay that way for some time, basking in the afterglow of our passion, before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

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

ONE

As regularly as clockwork, once a year, Bette Medway and husband Sam have a fearful row, the tears flow from Bette as she races away in fury and within a couple of days the rains come, breaking several months of drought.

Bette returns home and she and Sam disappear into the bedroom for 24 hours, and so begins another annual cycle.

On this occasion, tears streaming down her sun-weathered face, Bette roared along their three-quarters of a mile private track to the highway where she paused, having to decide whether to turn left or right. Usually she turns right in the rugged 4WD vehicle and heads to the coast a day’s drive away – one day to get there, one day to be there, one day to drive back home.

Boring!

She turned inland although having no intention of driving to the desert was more than a day’s drive away, though where it really begins is a matter of speculation and drough patterns.

Her keen eyes spotted a figure perhaps a mile away – just a speck that had stood up waiting to thumb a lift. Company would be nice, but who can you trust these days? she thought. If it’s a marooned motorist or someone injured she would stop, but not for a hitchhiker of dubious character and probably a foreigner as well.

She passed the figure on the roadside – it was a male, as to be expected, being solo. He’d thumbed but she ignored him and covered him with dust.

Looking in the rear vision mirror Bette saw the cheeky prick giving her the fingers. Right, mate, you’re for for a tongue lashing. She braked to a stop on the road that continued on for another twenty seven miles, dead straight.

Let the cheeky sod come up to her, she’d give him a tongue lashing and be off. She locked the doors just in case he became nasty.

The traveller took his time walking the distance. Bette sighed and wondered why after her annual dust up with Sam it was she who took off – why couldn’t that mean bastard of a husband take his turn and effect the necessary separation!

By the time the poor sod reached the 4WD vehicle, Bette had almost forgotten her reason for stopping. She unlocked the doors and told him to jump in, handing him a cool beer and unscrewing the cap off one for herself. It was hot, 92 deg inside the vehicle.

TW0

Hitchhiker Ewan Carson had spotted the dust plume rising above the road behind a speeding vehicle, the first vehicle to approach him since the last one dropped him off four hours ago.

Sun glinted on the windscreen of the vehicle as he rose to his feet, wishing for a ride with a very pleasant person who’d hand him a cold beer.

The vehicle flashed byand he caught the haughty look of the shelia who otherwise ignored him. So he stepped out on to the roadway, coughing dust, and gave the heartless bitch the fingers.

Unbelievably he saw the brake lights go on. She stopped, almost a quarter mile away, and made no effort to reverse towards him. The bitch!

Obviously she couldn’t have seen his obscene gesture, otherwise she wouldn’t have stopped. As he got nearer the vehicle the front passenger door opened so he went to that side.

“G’day,” she said in a broad Aussie accent. “Going my way, which is straight ahead?”

“Well, I don’t really know where I’m going, as I have yet to decide.”

“Struth, join the club. Hop in.”

Ewan had no idea which club he was about to join, but got into the vehicle and smiled gratefully at the angel, aged about forty, who’d stopped and handed him a dream cool beer. He could have kissed her.

“Thank’s, my name is Ewan Carson.”

“Hi, I’m Bette Medway off a station near here. Where are you from, Ewan?”

“New Zealand.”

“Where’s New Zealand?”

Oh shit, here he is miles from God knows where, and he has to meet the only female comedian in all of Australia.

“It’s the land of intelligentsia when Australians go for their vacations and think they’ve arrived in Heaven.”

“Oh, bless my luck, here I have picked up the only Kiwi alive with a humor,” she giggled.

Ewan decided he liked this Aussie with her tear-stained face.

“Where would you like to be taken?” she asked. “I can offer Sydney, Brisbane, Adelaide Perth but not Tasmania.”

“Dunno, I was hoping you could take me to some magical place in this part of your region.”

Bette was about to deny such a place existed, when she thought of one she’d visited as a girl – a fabulous place, etched deep in her memory.

“There’s one such place if you don’t mind a bit of a drive; it’s almost 250 miles bearing a little north of here.”

“Oh, I can’t let you do that – that’s a long way away.”

Bette slammed the vehicle into gear and set off.

“We’re on our way mate, first turn on the right fifteen miles down this road.

“We’re fully provisioned and the old girl is carrying a drum a diesel, we’ve got two radio handsets that work so we’re free to go ride-about. I need something to cheer me up, this adventure should do it.”

They belted along and in less than four hours arrived at an ancient upheaval üsküdar escort in the monotonously flat terrain that they had been driving at for the past half hour. The up-rise is split by a canyon, Bette had said, as she nursed the bucking vehicle over the very rough terrain sparsely covered in saltbush.

They arrived at ‘the place’ as she called it, being just as Bette had described it: on the floor on both sides of the narrow lake in the canyon was a thriving box ironbark ecosystem of grey, yellow and long leaf gums with a scattering undergrowth of what Ewan thought comprised mainly cat’s claw, grevillea and wattles.

“Are there snakes?”

“Probably.”

“Er, crocodiles?”

“No, they’re way up north?”

“Stingers?”

Bette looked at Ewan and grinned.

“You Kiwis are paranoid about our less than friendly critters. You fool, stingers are saltwater jellyfish and they’re only found in northern waters way up the Queensland coast, across the top and down a bit into Western Australia.”

“Why don’t you explore and look for some ‘roos – should be at least a couple of species here and try to identify some of the birds – the ones with long legs in the water are called waders and the ones that scream at you are called whatever. Watch out for spiders.”

“Spiders,” gulped Ewan.

“For fuck sake, Ewan. Go! Oh, don’t drink the water.”

As soon as he was out of sight the near-bursting Bette squatted behind the vehicle, urinated and felt very much more relaxed.

She grinned, thinking about her young man walking in trepidation through the only decent bit of bush for almost three hundred miles.

There was a lake surrounded by bush quite near where she picked up Ewan, but she’d not wanted to go east, and anyway other people would be around, some of whom probably knew her. When she’d driven by Ewan and then stopped, the thought of possibly making some use of him popped into mind and her crotch flexed in anticipation.

Ewan returned disappointed.

“I didn’t see any ‘roos hopping about.”

“They would have seen you – they will be lying down in the shade at this time of day, resting.”

“The water looks crystal clear.”

“That’s correct, Ewan, but it’s likely to contain water-borne parasites that perhaps are best left in the water.”

“Why is this place called McGinty Springs – is it named after the guy who found it?”

“Women also do more than cook and make beds, Ewan. A Mrs McGinty discovered this natural phenomenon in 1886.

“Very few people have visited here because it’s so remote, the landscape too rugged to support any kind of farming. It is believed to be fed by an underground river draining flood plains which eventually resurfaces to feed into the Darling River.”

Ewan smiled, and chirped: “The Darling River is 860 miles long and feeds into the Murray and that combined river systems drains and waters a basin covering more than 400,000 square miles – or about fourteen percent of Australia.”

“Oh my, don’t tell me they have schools in New Zealand,” grinned Bette sarcastically.

Ewan chose to ignore that.

“I feel privileged to have being bought here, Bette. I guess there are no shops or accommodation within cooee, like for hundreds of miles.”

“Well said, but I am carrying camping gear and food. You shall be my guest.”

“That’s very generous of you Bette.”

Now that they were standing in the shade, relaxing, Ewan took a close look at his hostess, with her sun-bleached multi-colored fair hair and khaki shirt wet with sweat under her armpits and between her breasts. She was tall and a tad plump and overall she looked, um, sexy despite her baggy khaki shorts and sandals. He wondered why she was out here alone and with him with no apparent purpose.

Was she on the run?

THREE

Bette looked at the strongly built young man who was probably in his mid-twenties. She’d never been unfaithful to Sam and wondered if that was about to change, as the more she looked at Ewan’s wide chest in his white polo shirt the more she felt aroused.

She’d taken a risk bringing a man she didn’t know to such a remote place, she knew that, yet didn’t feel afraid. He had a sensitive look about him. If she wanted something to happen it was up to her to make it happen.

“I’m changing into my bikini to go in and cool off,” she said.

“Right.”

Bette opened the back of the vehicle and changed into her bikini bottom, pushing the top in under the floor carpet.

“Oh damn.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I seem to have left my bikini top behind.”

“You go for your swim, I’ll go for another walk.”

“We should go into the water together; it is unwise to swim alone. You won’t be too embarrassed if I’m without a top, will you?”

“No, of course not. What you suggest makes sense. I’ll only be in a bottom piece myself.”

Bette rubbed her breasts, palming her nipples to get them up. She walked out from behind the vehicle, walking yenibosna escort straight at Ewan. The look of admiration was on his face instantly, which pleased her. She decided to push her luck.

“What do you think?”

“You have beautiful breasts.”

“I’m glad you think so, I was hoping you’d be interested.”

“Interested?”

“Yes, sexually.”

“Oh my God,” Ewan said, his voice thickening.

“Come here,” said Bette, holding out her arms.

He came forward quickly, showing little embarrassment.

“Are you happy to be consorting with a married woman, Ewan?”

He swallowed, and looked at her.

“Oh, yes, Bette, and I’ll tell you this: I won’t mind if this heats up. It’s been my dream to make love to an older woman. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Oh, Ewan,” sighed, Bette, drawing him in tightly. They then went hand in hand to the water, not unlike excited teenagers.

Minutes later they were on a thick waterproof blanket that Bette had packed as a ground sheet. It being a comfortable base for a shafting though that had not been on Bette’s mind when she’d put the roll in the back of the wagon.

She sat on her haunches, now with her bikini bottom removed. Ewan was off, having a pee. He returned carrying his swimming shorts. Bette licked her lips, looking at his trim figure. His penis was at half-mast, and looked not particularly long but was rather fat, which pleased her as she was not looking to be staked by the ground by eight inches or so of throbbing meat.

Ewan slid in to settle on his haunches, his left leg slipping in between Bette’s knees, which brought him right up to her.

She’d expected him to lunge for a boob, but instead he stroked her drying hair on hanging over her shoulders and asked gently, “Do you have a fantasy?”

Of course she did, but there was no way she was going to tell him.

“No, I’m just a conventional housewife,” she said, evasively, expecting to get away with it.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he said, nibbling her ear.

A tremor swept through Bette. Sam was a ‘Bam, bam, thank you ma’am’ thruster, she’d always wondered what it would be like draped in sheer silk finery and fed aphrodisiac-laced jelly sweets by a cruel looking sheik with the most sensitive fingers in the world, who wanted a single fuck to last all night. She’d drip just thinking about it.

“I-I…”

She halted midstream, it was too absurd. Take the ‘bam, bam’; being young he’d be keen to demonstrate his virility so would want to sink it in repeatedly and eventually he’d slow down and perhaps then feel there was time to smell the flowers and do some cute things to her.

Ewan was not letting her off the hook.

“I-I?” That’s not an answer.”

Bette was unable to suppress it: she flushed heavily and felt the heat run down her neck and over her breasts. She was relieved that Ewan didn’t comment, beyond a gentle “Hmmmmm.”

A moist tongue flicked around her eye, arousing her. Then came the whisper she had to strain to hear: “Tell my about this innermost desire, my darling.”

“My darling?” A series of gentle orgasms seemed to trickle out of Bette’s backbone and seep through her belly and pelvic region and dissipate early into her thighs. She bit her lip to ensure she made no sound.

“I’ve often thought about being strummed out in a prolonged bout of erotic love-making. Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

Ewan’s hazel eyes had turned dark brown and he stared straight at her, his tongue running along his top lip.

Bette quivered.

“Do you have a viabrator here, preferably a soft one?”

She nodded weakly, wondering how a young man of his age would know about such a thing.

“Fetch the small square make-up bag in the back of the wagon.”

Ewan went to the vehicle where he immediately saw the string to a bikini top hanging out from under the carpet. He grinned and grabbed the make-up kit.

Bette had not moved and her eyes fixed on his dick which had softened a little and was swinging obscenely against his thighs.

“Oh my,” she whispered.

“There are two in there – take your pick.”

Ewan left the wand massager, choosing instead a simply soft jelly waterproof viabrator with a pointed head. He palmed the 5-inch device and moved back into position.

Ewan ran his lips over Bette’s eyes in an unhurried manner, making little noises in his throat, which she chose to answer as if in mating mode.

Their lips met at last, just touching tantalizingly then she felt the tip of his tongue make an exploratory probe, sending a shiver down her back.

She yielded and his tongue penetrated gently and was met her hers.

Ewan grunted as they tongued and he worked the viabrator around the base of Bette’s ear at the lowest setting, dulling for her the distant bawdiness of a gang of parrots in the tree-tops on the other side of the springs.

Their saliva dribbled and with her eyes closed zeytinburnu escort Bette waved away at flies or any other insects on the hunt for moisture over warm flesh. She tried unsuccessfully to delicately suck the invading tongue to the back of her throat but it would not untwine from hers.

Just as she drew in a deeper breath to increase suction Ewan chose to pull back to look at her deeply, reaching out to part her fringe and dab her forehead with a soft kiss, that precipitated a tiny flow of moisture on to her lightly haired vulva. The vibrator was now just working idly on her spine, really doing nothing for her. It stopped.

Ewan reached down and drew up her left breast with both hands, licked the nipple and blew on it. She loved that, and looking down could see his engorged cock with its ugly red and purple head ready to slam between her thighs. More moisture leaked from her.

But she had to endure the wait of watching her lover administer to her right breast as if there were some rule about having to display parity in treatment when trying to rev her up by playing with her breasts. Her groin felt warm and tight, ready to be plundered.

Thank goodness, she thought that he was no longer playing with the viabrator like a third hand. More than likely she’d have ejaculated over his cock as soon as it reached the entrance of her vagina had the intensity of his assault continued at that level.

Now what was he doing?

The young man from New Zealand had his nose between her now very swollen 34s that drooped too much for her liking when unsupported – but that’s what having two children (at boarding school) do for you, she sighed. Then she yelled, scaring the birds, when Ewan pushed her hangers between his cheeks. It wasn’t the hair stubble that set her off; no, he was grunting and snorting and blowing like a rooting pig.

A tingling ran right to her toes and Bette could feel moisture running down her thighs to the blanket. Frantically she patted him on his shoulder blades, signaling him to hurry up. She sighed, expecting to be ignored – and she was.

Another two rounds of repulsive between-breasts snorting occurred and Bette knew her nipples had become rock hard; repulsive perhaps, but it had wound up her motor, she had to concede. If the fool only shoved it into her now he’d be given one of the best fucks of his life.

Bette realized he was looking at her again, smiling and he asked, “Is this to your likening my fair lady?”

She nodded dumbly but knew he could see passion etched into her face.

He raised an eyebrow, and she found her voice: “Keep going, my sweet prince.”

A hot embarrassed flush hit Bette’s upper body; she never talked stupidly like that to anyone, not even when husband Stan was licking her out and refusing to halt although she would be screaming, practically swinging off the rafters above their bed and appealing to him to stop.

She grinned and thought, well my girl, just let it all hang out – imagine you are on holiday in a strange distant land with sheiks and your silks flowing in the wind. Tears came to her eyes; she was s-o-o-o happy.

“Lay back my sweet,” he said and strong arms lifted he as she freed her legs and felt herself being lowered.

She spread her knees and raised them, hoping the sight of her wet vulva that probably was showing slightly gaping pink would trigger his sex drive, causing him to lose this idiotic languorous foreplay that was driving her nuts and hopelessly sending her emotions and senses into a labyrinth of dead-ends.

She tried to imagine what he’d do now – lick her toes?

She had the insane thought that if he tried that one on her she’d grab the rifle from the wagon and force him to fuck her conventionally or else risk geting a bullet through his knee-cap.

This treatment of her was inhumane, she felt like weeping, she felt like laughing and she squeezed her left boob painfully and that was the test: at that instant she knew she’d been aroused like never before. She was on the verge of becoming a quivering, useless heap of femininity – but she didn’t want that. She wanted to screw him wildly, to show him what a real country girl Australian could do for a man.

Better to unleash a deep and long moan to alert Ewan that she was fully primed. She unleashed a long, guttural moan and immediately felt his hands sweep over her forehead and down over her ears.

Obviously he curtailed his preamble because hanging right over her mouth was a sack containing two very fat testicles above which protruded the object of her desire. She licked at the sack just as she felt his tongue penetrate into the opening of her vagina.

Bette groaned and reaching up grasped his rigid dick and bent it into her mouth, moving gently avoid harming him; the flexible assembly of muscle, membrane, glans, blood entrapment cylinders and goodness knows what else bent obediently and entered her mouth like a pilotless aircraft.

“Mmmmmmm!” breathed Bette, accepting this time-wasting exercise as inevitable.

Her passion shaped her whole being; she was ready for everything Ewan threw at her, whether it be teeth, fists, tongue, fingers or a plummeting dick of widening proportions.

She got most of his dick into her throat then withdrew it slowing to flick her tongue around the head before removing it all together for an inspection then some more tongue-on-tip play.

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

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

My wife Anne and I are regular hikers, less regular but no less enthusiastic campers, and live about 2 hours from the heart of the Smoky Mountains (yep, that’s how it’s spelled) in classic American suburbia. We’re empty nesters in our early 50s, with adult kids well launched, in comfortable financial means, and each holding down jobs that we like and that let us get away when we want to, to detox in Nature.

So it was that a month ago we were camping in TN, hiking up near the NC border. It was a Thursday, in-season but off-holiday time. We’d pitched our tent Wednesday evening after the drive to the mountains, enjoyed a camp supper with our usual wine after (no alcoholic beverages allowed signage be damned), and reveled in the number of stars we could see after dark. As was our habit and somewhat in recognition of our ages (ok, my age), we were deferring lovemaking until we were well acclimated, so had gotten up Thursday morning, and without ado, had a light breakfast, and set out driving to the trailhead of a loop hike we’d read about but never done.

The trail was well maintained, part of the National Park system, being in the Smokies proper. It was rated moderate on one map, strenuous in a book we had, and we were finding it not particularly rough, but unrelentingly up! OK, I hike a little faster, but not much by any stretch, and then only on the uphills, so I was happy to let her lead, which she did without permission. Her fear of snakes was something we always dealt with, but on that day, she seemed impervious and just pushed on. Huffing and puffing, we hiked for a good two hours at a good clip, both sweating steadily in the summer heat, even up at the moderate Smokies elevations, and being thankful the bugs were about nonexistent. Anne’s hiking shirt was soaked, as was mine. Hers however, was showing off the lovely contours of her breasts as we went, that inimitable rhythm of them reminding me with the occasional glimpse I got (I was behind her, remember?) of just how fortunate I was to be married to, if not a health nut, at least a health fan, as well as an all-woman female. She was still wearing a tank top underneath the shirt, but that was soaked, too, so the effect was almost braless.

While we’d had an adventurous fantasy life of sorts, and had tried the usual light kinks, we always came back to basic skin-to-skin, enthusiastic oral-genital and genital-genital sex, with lots of orgasms on her part and sufficient ones on mine, when it came to the bedroom. Ropes and mild pain and costuming and such just didn’t do it for us. A bit of exhibitionism was nice on occasion, and we both enjoyed, again on occasion, watching quality erotica, rare as it is, but we’d never swapped, never cheated on each other that I knew of, never really gotten off on anal – pretty vanilla all around, I’d say.

So, there we were, sweating and hiking and enjoying getting the heart rates up, and pausing momentarily when there was a view, which was rare due to the season, and sometimes chatting but mostly just pushing on, upwards, each calculating the calories being burnt, the dinner we were going to justify having – or that’s what I was thinking about, anyway, between parts where the path would widen and I could catch up and get another reminder of those great breasts, and on we went. OK, I’ll admit, I was also apprehensive about bears and was keeping a sharp eye and ear out for them, replanning what to do if we encountered cubs, a mother, a sole male, etc. Not sure my plans would ever come to any benefit for us, but at least I’d thought it through, right?

As we went, my mind wandered, but not far from Anne. Finally, at a water stop she initiated, I convinced her to take off her shirt. “Hey, hon, you know it would be fine with me if you went topless, but at least take off the shirt – it’s keeping you hotter than you need to be, and we haven’t seen a single other hiker on this trail in two hours. You’d feel better, and I’d be able to forget about the strain of hiking by having you displaying as we went.” Convincing argument, I thought.

To my surprise, she went along with it, taking off the shirt and tying around her waist (along with the water bottle belt). “OK, buster – now off with yours too,” she countered, smiling.

I knew my light backpack straps would chafe if I did that, so I convinced her to keep her shirt off and for me to just unbutton mine and with its tails untucked anyway, give me some ventilation as well. Thus attired, we set off again, our hiking sticks making a dull click-clack along the path as upwards we trekked.

Finally, we reached what we hoped like hell was the top of the trail. Not much, no sign, but a bend around the side of a mountain, with a crude bench and a widening of the path right there, and a slight downslope following it. “Maybe another teaser,” I said, since there had already been several short downhills that just turned back into the uphill trek. If it had been winter we’d have had great views of the Smokies, but with everything greened in, we were pretty much just in the forest with the trail falling tesettürlü escort off precipitously on one side as we went.

“Teaser number 5, I think,” Anne said, and kept going. I followed.

Another couple hundred yards passed, and it became clear we were finally on the real downslope finally, back to the start and our car and that cooler in the back of it with the cans of lemonade and air conditioning and all those other civilized accoutrements.

The tough part over, both our spirits had risen, clearly, and we were chatting again, discussing whether we should grocery shop for camp supper or just go to one of the restaurants within close driving range (if you’ve figured out where we were, you’ll know there are several good ones besides the usual all-you-can-eat fare). Just as we were enjoying the gentle slope downward, we came around a bend and encountered the Rankins (or so we were later to find out).

It was at a sharp bend, so we didn’t see each other until we were almost within touch. At first, it seemed all typical – couple, married no doubt, of our age, just out for a hike, he shirtless, she in what I took for a black running bra type top. She had short hair and was brunette, attractive without being show-stopping. They didn’t have hiking sticks as we did, so they were no doubt working even harder than we were, assuming the halves of the trail were twins, each leading up and up, until the bend we’d recently passed, rewarding with a gentle down and down back to the parking lot trailhead.

As hikers do, we said a cheery “Hi,” and they reciprocated. We both stopped, and they asked how far to the apex. We replied it was only another ten minutes or so up, and commiserated with them that it was indeed a tough hike upwards without respite. Somewhere in all that, I registered (sorry, I was pretty tired, ok?) that she was wearing, not a sports bra or an athletic top, but a real, black lace, see-through bra! ‘Not sure if I said anything for the next 30 seconds or so after my epiphany, but during that time, I managed to refocus and realize a number of things. They were about our age, maybe a couple of years younger, and fit. They were as hot and tired as we, so they’d shed their tops – he was topless, blond and body-hairless, with what I calculated was pretty good from a woman’s point of view – good pecs, nice shoulders, only a bit of a gut which was understandable given the ages, wearing shorts and carrying a light backpack that probably held their tops. She was more voluptuous than Anne – probably a 36C at least, maybe D, from the way her breasts were trying to overwhelm the confines of the bra, spilling over a bit while forming a very nice valley as well, and reconfirming it was a demi-bra, not something hikers would wear. Otherwise, she was also in good shape, with an abdomen that she’d worked to keep, as had Anne, good legs, I guessed maybe 5’7″ and a bit heavier than Anne per inch, but that meant softer curves – sort of a Sophia Loren to my Anne’s Brigitte Bardot, to take us all back.

All that registered, I fast-forwarded to the present, hauled my eyes from looking at her breasts that were showing her nipples trying to meet my gaze, up to her eyes that may have been laughing, enjoying my catching up to all this, I supposed. Meanwhile, the conversation had continued. She was Sandy, he was John, they were occasional hikers and occasional visitors to the Smokies. I figured they weren’t as serious in their hiking as we were, hence the lack of sticks and hence her not being in a sports bra capable of confining her generous breasts. They admitted to having been surprised at how hot and how hard the trail had turned out to be, as had we. During all this, I was trying like hell not to stare at Sandy’s breasts, dark nipples visible through the lace, and noticed when not visually glued to them, that John was similarly enjoying the sight of Anne’s chest, soaked and practically transparent as her top had become.

Seeing they appeared not to have brought water, we offered them some, and they took us up on it gladly, pretty much draining more than a pint between them. Fortunately, we were well stocked and as well as being on the easy half of the trail, still having plenty to see us through the several miles yet to go. They were effusive in their thanks, and we were as effusive in being glad to be able to help out that way.

We wished them well, they us, and we parted, continuing. As we hiked pretty much in silence, I reflected on how gorgeous Sandy was, those curves, those dark nipples trying to call to me through the lace, those curves.

Eventually, I asked Anne about them, suggested she must have enjoyed the cheesecake he presented. She said she didn’t notice, didn’t think he was particularly hot. I sensed she was dissing him to disguise her attraction, but that was a guess. Pressing, she admitted she thought Sandy was pretty out there, hiking in that get-up (a bit of green eye emerging?). I told Anne she could shed her top anytime she pleased as far türbanlı escort as I was concerned, and that I was pretty sure John had appreciated her form as well, thanks to the sweat-soaked thin material of it. Anne seemed surprised by that, looked down, and realized how exposed she’d been. “You should have told me!” she cried, as I laughed.

“I thought you knew – after all, they’re your breasts, can’t you control their behavior?” I laughed. Blushing and trying to dismiss it, she said he probably had other things on his mind, that I was a dirty old man, the usual. I thought I’d caught her red-handed, metaphorically.

Anyway, we continued the hike, got back to the car with her well re-shirted well before we got there. No sign of the Rankins. I didn’t really expect the timing to work, but did mildly regret missing another look at Sandy in all her see-through glory. We downed prepositioned sodas from our cooler enroute back to the campground, showered, much refreshed, had a cold beer, and considered the evening.

An hour later, we were at the only “foodie” place nearby, Miss Nellie’s. Seated at a table, each in casual tops, shorts and sandals, we were perusing the menu when John Rankin interrupted us.

“Hey, fellow hikers,” he started. “You were right, only up a bit farther, and then a nice easy trek back to the car. We were about to get discouraged in the heat, so thanks for the information on the trail, and for the water!”

“No problem,” I said, seeing Sandy joining beside him. “That was a tougher trail than we’d expected ourselves. Care to join us?”

“Sure,” John said, and we shared a light supper, talking about mountains and favorite places and food. It turned out they lived about 2 hours from us, had very different backgrounds but we had similar lives with no kids at home, comfortable economically, loved the mountains, and so forth.

The meal over, we’d settled up – John tried to nab the check, but I beat him to it and we compromised on splitting it, not that it appeared either of us would be sorely taxed by the modest amount. As we stood to go, John said, “Well, the least you can do is come back to our place for a drink. We at least owe you a drink, and I’m not talking water this time. I’ve got some pretty decent bourbon, and the wine rack is well stocked as well. We’ve rented this all-inclusive place, so if we don’t use the stuff, it just goes to waste.”

Looking at Anne for corroboration and getting it, I accepted and we agreed to split up, Sandy riding with me and Anne with John, since their place was a rented cabin not immediately obvious due to the roads’ lack of signs and such.

We left the restaurant, the sky still light, and headed up the mountain. Sandy looked fine in a jersey wraparound dress that tied at the waist. I’d always wondered about those dresses – was it just wrap, as in if you pulled the tie, did the whole thing come open? She filled it out and then some, lovely cleavage not revealing whether it was bra-supported or not – tantalizing but not overt. She was a pleasant riding companion, and between glances to take in her legs and imagine the entire package, I couldn’t resist getting in my thoughts.

“Sandy, I’ve got to tell you, you were a magnificent sight out there on the trail today. You looked physically exercised, but the view was, um, gratifying.”

“Oh, that!” she laughed. “Sorry about that – we hadn’t seen anyone else on the trail. We were so hot, and hadn’t really planned to hike anyway when we left, just wanted to drive a bit and maybe take a wade in the stream down by the trailhead. Once there, though, we got sucked into the idea of hiking it, the distance didn’t seem too far, and our map said moderate, so we headed out. It wasn’t until we’d been at it for hours that we knew we’d made a mistake, but typical us, we were willing to see it through rather than turn back. I’d shed that top maybe 20 minutes earlier, after John had offed his. He said I was just showing off for the bears, but I really didn’t expect to be showing off for anyone else. We were so surprised to run into you, there wasn’t time for me to put the shirt back on without making things even more obvious, so I stuck it out. John, of course, was enjoying it the whole time and teased me about flashing you all the way down the trail. I did note and he did readily admit, by the way, that he was enjoying looking at Anne as much as he was guessing you were at me. Frankly, I suspect both Anne and I were checking out you two as well, I know I was.

“Oh? Well, sorry to have disappointed by being dressed – if I’d only known, I’d have stripped down too!” I laughed, as did she, and she said something about a raincheck on that. We were immediately relaxed with each other, and as we went, I entertained all manner of salacious thoughts about Sandy, and a bit about John and Anne. Maybe . . .

After about 20 minutes, we got to their cabin, a secluded spot but one of those modern log cabin things that looks more like a half million dollars tüyap escort or so went into it. The front door was fine, but the wraparound back porch deck was stunning. After a short tour of the house and the great view of mountains in the distance, I followed Sandy inside. John and Anne weren’t there yet. Sandy’s ass looked fine in the soft clingy material dress, her taut legs leading the way. She showed me into the big, and I mean big, open kitchen/living room area and grabbed a glass and a bottle of white wine out of the fridge for herself.

“Please don’t stand on ceremony, Steve. The bar’s over there, there’s beer in the fridge, and you’re welcome to some of this or we’ve got various reds if you prefer.”

“Thanks, I think I’ll wait on John anyway. If he’s going to get into the bourbon, I’ll keep him company, but I’m sure not going to invade his bar, regardless of your kind invitation.”

“Up to you,” she said, and set about assembling a plate of fruit, cheeses and crackers and such.

John and Anne arrived about 10 minutes later, no real explanation given or asked, but with Anne seeming a bit distracted. Naturally, I began to wonder, and realized it was an enticing delay I was imagining, not fraught with jealousy but with eroticism.

John did indeed offer to hit the bourbon, so while Anne got some of whatever Sandy was having, I followed John’s lead in accepting a healthy hit of Jefferson’s with drops of branch – fine stuff if you’re not familiar – with ice water sides. Settling in next to our spouses on the facing couches that flanked the big fireplace (no fires there tonight – it was still warm for the mountains but by then had cooled to the comfortable low 70s or so), we all felt quite ok with the world.

As we sampled the snacks, we traded stories and backgrounds – nothing extraordinary, similar enough to have a bit of sympatico, different enough to be individuals. We all enjoyed the mountains, and we all enjoyed enjoying about whatever came our way within the bounds of keeping out of real trouble and being kind to fellow humans. Somewhere along the line, John produced a joint, and we passed it around. It wasn’t a major stone, but I know I felt pretty damned mellow after a bit.

Sandy finally broke into the topic we’d all probably been hoping would come up yet were reticent to raise ourselves, saying, “So, I think maybe I scandalized you two with my attire this afternoon.”

“Oh no!” Anne chirped, “We’re not quite that easy to scandalize.”

“I think we aren’t either – all of us have been about long enough not to let that put is off, I suppose. But, since you say so, what’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done?”

“Uh, this is trading scandals, right? We tell, then you tell?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sandy agreed, and snuggled closer to John, laying her hand on his thigh just above the knee, a nice wifely thing not entirely devoid of sensuality, as we all registered, I guessed.

“Take it away, Anne,” I smiled, not knowing just how she was going to react to this or which of the ever so mild scandalous things she might pick, either as the most or as the most she was willing to reveal at the moment.

“Oh, thanks a lot, Galahad,” she shot back, but I could tell she wasn’t really miffed. “Well, I guess it was when we went skinny dipping in a neighbor’s pool. We thought they were out of town, and they’d always said we were welcome to come over for a swim anytime, so we put on suits, strolled through the gate separating our yards, and were enjoying just swimming in the dark – it was about 10, I think. Galahad here figured we were overdressed, so he talked me out of my bikini, and he tossed his trunks along with my suit onto the diving board, which was just high enough to be out of my reach. We were just coasting, floating on our backs or paddling around, talking quietly about which constellations we could find in the sky, when all of a sudden, the underwater pool lights came on!

“I about jumped out of my skin, then realized I was naked and someone had turned on the lights, and between sputtering out a lungful of water I took in at the surprise, was thrashing about, heading for the diving board, as if I could reach it. Galahad here was about to drown, too, as I recall, but not from surprise or embarrassment, rather just from laughing at me! Meanwhile, the supposed out-of-towners appeared, fully clothed, on the deck, and turned on all the patio lights to boot. I was scandalized and I’d have to say, pretty pissed off!”

“So, then what?” laughed Sandy and John. The three of us were cracked up hearing Anne’s rendition. “C’mon, you can’t not finish!”

“I can tell I’m getting lots of sympathy with you guys!” Anne fake-complained. “Well, while I treaded water and wondered just how visible I was, Steve here just blithely got out of the pool, stark ass naked, and full frontally, casual as all hell about it, called out to them across the pool, ‘Sorry, we thought you guys were out of town and decided to take you up on that standing offer,’ or something like that, while he put on his trunks. Then, rather than tossing my suit to me, he leaned over and offered me a hand, and idiot me, not thinking clearly enough not to take it, got hoisted out of the water and scrambled to get my bikini back on. The couple were clearly enjoying the sights, and invited us in, but I wasn’t going there, so we managed to say our goodbyes and get out of there.”

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The smell of fresh hot coffee pulled me from a very restful sleep. I opened my eyes to find Kay sitting on the edge of the bed next to me holding two mugs in her hands. Even in my groggy state I could see that she was wearing a fluffy terry cloth robe and my blue silk pajama pants.

“Here take a sip of this.” Kay said holding one mug out to me.

I took the half full mug from her a small sip was all I needed to wake me up fully.

“Hmmm. Tastes good.” I said.

I handed the mug back to her for a second while I pulled myself up and leaned against the head board.

Kay turned toward me and lifted one leg up on the mattress. Her robe got caught under her leg and pulled open exposing her soft cleavage. Seeing me look down at her tits Kay giggled and said. “No time for that this morning.”

As she handed my coffee back to me I said. “Not even a quickie?”

Kay laughed and replied. “Sweetheart we don’t DO quickies.”

I had to agree with her. Our lovemaking always took hours and hours which was just fine with me. After all what healthy man in his right mind wouldn’t want to have this sexy mature vixen in his sack for hours and hours.

Kay glanced at the clock on the night stand then exclaimed. “Oh shit it’s almost eight thirty. I’ve got to get ready to open the shop.”

She jumped up and headed to the bath room. I took another sip of coffee and slid off the bed following her to the bath.

“What’s your hurry?” I asked

“You have no idea Allen. Those damn yard sale shoppers are out by seven and they’ll be waiting at my door if I don’t get there promptly at nine.” Kay remarked.

She was already in the shower so I just turned around and peed. Kay heard me and stuck her head around the curtain and said. “Don’t flush please.” Knowing the shower water would turn instantly scalding hot.

Leaning against the vanity I asked. “What time do you want me to pick you up today?”

“You can come by anytime but I’ll lock up at two.” She replied.

“Great we’ll be able to make the sack race then.” I teased her.

The shower turned off and Kay pushed the curtain back. Her sexy body dripping wet. “Can I have a towel please.” She asked.

As she patted her lovely body dry Kay said. “The only sack race I’m gonna take part in will happen later when I race you to the sack.”

Kay was clearly in a hurry to make it to Junk to Jazz before the early morning crowd and I decided to let her alone while she dressed. Oh course I would have rather watched her cover that sexy body but opted for a second mug of hot coffee.

I was at the kitchen table sipping my morning drink when she came bounding in from the bed room.

Kay wore a nice fitting pair of jeans open toe sandals and a white tank top with a identical white cotton bar beneath.

“You have time for another coffee?” I asked.

Kay glanced at the clock and said. “Running late I’ll have to pass.”

She grabbed her purse and checked to make sure her store keys were inside. As she headed to the door I stepped between her stopping her hasty exit.

“Leaving without even a good bye kiss?” I asked.

She smiled and leaned against me. Our lips met in a very short light kiss. “Don’t be late I’m looking forward to our date today.” Kay said.

I slid aside and opened the door for her. “See ya at two sweetheart.” I said.

I watched as she walked to the elevator. Her step looked like a woman on a mission. I smiled knowing Kay took her business very seriously.

As the door glided open she looked toward me blew me a kiss then disappeared into the elevator.

I closed my apartment door and freshened up my coffee taking a full mug out onto the balcony.

I looked over the railing just in time to see Kay briskly walking toward the corner then disappeared again.

I sat down on my one balcony chair and enjoyed my first cigarette of the morning my third cup of java and the cool sunny day.

My thoughts were of the picnic later in the afternoon. I was fairly sure that if Kay and Francine actually met they’d hit it off. After all they were both extremely sexy quick witted and have a great sense of humor.

I knew first hand they both love soft sensual lovemaking with a bit of kink thrown in and this was the perfect opportunity to get them together with out the office gossips suspecting anything.

I was a little concerned that Francine wouldn’t show up. Obviously her husband would most likely be dragged there kicking and screaming. Or perhaps she’d be cooped up at the office finishing Marge’s project.

I thought about taking a drive to the office to see her but since she’d be alone that probably would wind up turning into the second time I’d fuck her.

My cigarette landed in the middle of the coffee can as I stepped back inside. Five after nine. I had five hours to kill. Straightening up the place and washing the wine glasses from last night took all of fifteen minutes.

I decided to gather up my dirty clothes and that bag of damp blue satin bedding şerifali escort in my spare bed room and head to the laundry in the basement.

The laundry is located directly across the hall from the elevator so when the door opened I could see inside the laundry. Staci Van Holden was sitting on a chair reading a magazine. I smiled and thought it’s your lucky day Goodman.

She didn’t immediately look up from her article waiting until I came through the door carrying my bundles of dirty laundry.

“Morning Allen.” Staci said.

“Good morning to you.” I replied.

“I see we had the same idea today.” Staci commented noticing my pile of laundry.

I laughed a little then said. “I’ve been neglecting this chore and now I’m gonna pay the price.

As I dropped the bundles Staci offered. “You should keep up with your laundry. Never know when your favorite outfit might come in handy.”

I loaded two machines. After making sure they were filling properly I took a seat across from Staci.

“Guess I should have brought something to read with me.” I commented.

Staci had returned to her magazine but looked up and said. “It’s usually quiet down here. I seldom have company while I’m washing my things.

She closed her magazine and tossed it into the bottom of an empty basket. “I’d rather chat with you anyway.”

I smiled and replied. “Thanks Staci.”

Her warm smile and dazzling eyes acknowledged she was happy for the company.

“So Allen.” Staci began. “I expected you to call me. You did say I could bet the farm on that call.”

“Yes I did and I have to apologize for not calling you. It’s been nuts at work this week and our company picnic is today.” I explained

“Well you could have called just to say hi and chat a little.” She remarked.

I’m not one to spend endless hours just chatting on the phone. I suspect it’s the business I’m in but my phone calls are usually short and to the point.

“I have a friend staying over this weekend who’s air conditioner is broke and won’t be repaired until Monday.” I explained not really sure why I offered that as an excuse for not having called.”

One of the washing machines stopped and Staci stood up moving to the machine to switch her wet laundry over to a dryer.

While she worked she said. “Well you’ll have to call me some time when you’re alone and have some time.”

I smiled then asked. “Why’s that?”

Staci turned and leaned against the washer a sheepish grin came to her lips as she explained. “I love phone sex Allen.”

I smiled widely and replied. “Really now there’s something I’ve never tried.”

She finished her chore then sat down again after feeding quarters into the dryer.

“Phone sex is so hot. You get to describe exactly what your doing to yourself and let your imagine run wild telling your partner what you’d like to do to them.” Staci explained.

I grinned and said. “Sounds like fun but not much of a substitute for the real deal.”

“You’d be surprised Allen. And if you’re having phone sex with someone you’ve enjoyed the real deal with it can be very erotic.” She explained.

“And what about someone you haven’t had sex with?” I asked.

“That’s even better cause it heightens the anticipation of the real thing when it finally happens.” Staci said.

I grinned a devilish grin and said. “Then I definitely want to try it with you.”

“I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. Bet the farm on that Allen.” Staci said recalling my statement that she could bet the farm on me calling her.

I just smiled and replied. “Sounds like I need to call my cellular provider and up my monthly minute plan.”

She giggled and suggested. “Better go for the unlimited plan.”

Staci leaned back against her seat and changed the subject. “So you’re going to a company picnic today?” She asked.

“Yes other than the holiday party in December this is the only other day of the year I socialize with my co-workers.” I offered.

“Got some hot babe lined up to be your partner in the sack race?” She asked.

“No sack race for me.” I admitted. “Besides there won’t be any hot babes at this picnic.”

“What?” Staci said surprised then added. “You’re a handsome divorcee I’m sure there’s someone you’ve had your eyes on at work.”

I remembered some advice I once got from a supervisor a long time ago. “I was once told that it’s not a good thing to fuck where you eat.” I said which in hind sight sounded rather silly.

Staci grinned hearing me drop the “f” bomb then said. “But what about eating what you’ve fucked.”

I laughed at her play on words then said. “No problem with that.”

“Glad to hear that.” Staci replied a wide smile on her lips.

The slight bulge in my slacks caused me to change the subject.

“How’s Gina?” I asked realizing after I’d asked that this question would probably do little to slow the swelling in my pants.

“Well you know Gina. She silivri escort always looking for another hard prick to use.” Staci offered.

I grinned then said. “Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

One of the two washers I’d loaded ground to a stop and I got up trying to hide the bulge in my pants from Staci. While I was unloading the machine Staci got up and took a few things of her’s out of the dryer.

Holding up a very sexy baby doll nighty she said. “I like to let some of my things air dry that way they won’t shrink.”

I looked over at the nighty it’s pale blue lace and super thin spaghetti thin shoulder straps hung from her delicate fingers.

“I like the look of that one.” I commented.

She turned and held it in front of her. “You should see me in this little number.”

“Love too.” I replied.

Staci got that devilish grin on her lips again and said. “Bet the farm on it.”

She pulled several other baby doll nighties and a couple teddies from the dryer before the heat caused them to shrink holding each one up in front of her so I could enjoy the mental image of seeing her wearing them.

As she posed with the last one Staci smiled then moved closer to me the black lace teddy slipped from one finger and hung loosely over her other hand.

She slid her slim hand and long sexy fingers between the machine I was facing and my loins. Her hand touched the bulge in my slacks and she said. “Wish we had time for me to take care of this for you.”

We probably did have time but I smiled and said. “I’m too much of a romantic for our second date to take place in this dingy laundry.”

Staci smiled widely knowing I was really fighting the urge to strip her there and now and fuck her senseless.

“You surprise me Allen in a very good way.” She offered.

I lifted her hand to my lips and gently kissed the soft skin on the back of her delicate hand. “First time lovers should remember the first time for ever.” I said.

Staci smiled broadly at me then lifted her finger in the air then drew a number one saying. “He shoots…he scores.” Letting me know I’d scored points with her.

Her dryer slowly came to a stop. Staci pulled her clean laundry out and piled it in her wash basket. “I’ll fold this upstairs.” She said.

I drew my lips down like a sad clown and said. “You’re gonna leave me down here all alone.”

“Have to. Got lots to do yet today.” She said.

Before she left Staci moved close to me and whispered in my ear. “Call me soon. I wouldn’t want to lose the farm.”

I smiled and replied. “Count on it.”

She turned and walked out toward the elevator her tight little ass moving sexily in the white short shorts she was wearing.

Stepping into the elevator Staci moved her basket under one arm and just before the door slid closed she blew me a kiss.

I turned around and leaned against the machine my bulging cock tenting my pants. As I repositioned the erect cock I thought. The next night I’m able to I’m gonna call that hot little tart to see if she’s as good in the bed room as she is in the laundry.

It was nearly eleven forty five by the time I finished my laundry and headed back to the twelfth floor. I spent the next half hour either folding or hanging my clean laundry up.

I figured I’d shower and head to Junk to Jazz to pick up my date around one thirty.

Just before I jumped in the shower my cell rang. I recognized the number as my office.

“Hello.” I said into the phone.

“Hi Allen it’s Francine.” she replied.

I expected this call was to let me know she’d be a no show but to my surprise Francine said. “Just wanted to let you know that Jim and me will be there this afternoon. I’m just finishing Marge’s project and we should get there around three if he gets home on time.”

“That’s great look for us when you get there.” I replied.

“Sure will baby.” Francine said then added. “See you soon.”

I showered with thoughts of these two sexy vixens spending as least part of the afternoon planning their mutual seduction of me. The anticipation of that started to build immediately.

I dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a light green sport shirt. Sliding my sunglasses in my hair I grabbed my keys and headed out about one twenty.

As luck would have it there wasn’t a parking space within a block of Kay’s shop. I should have walked instead then Kay and me could have come back to the condo’s parking lot. “Oh well I thought too late to go back now.”

Circling the block once I found a space just around the corner from Junk to Jazz. As I approached Kay stepped out onto the sidewalk. She still wore the white tank top and cotton bra but had changed from fitted jeans to a pair of navy blue shorts. She sexy toes still showing in her open toe sandals.

“Hi there sexy.” I said as walked up to her.

“Hey you.” Kay replied with an excited smile on her lips.

“Ready to go?” I asked.

Kay şirinevler escort replied. “Just need to turn off the lights and lock up. I’ll be right back.”

I watched her through the glass door. Even in flat sandals her legs looked awesome. I’m constantly amazed at how shapely they are for a woman nearly fifty five years old.

I had this incredible mental image just then of Kay and Francine standing side by side facing away from me wearing nothing but sexy thigh high stockings and stilettos. A man couldn’t wish for a finer fore-some of shapely gams.

Kay rejoined me and we walked toward my car. “You look very nice.” I mentioned.

“I didn’t want to cause a stir in the office on Monday so I decided on very casual for today.” Kay explained.

I opened the passenger door and let Kay slip into the bucket seat then rounded the back and got in beside her.

“Thank you for inviting me to your picnic.” Kay said as I pulled from the curb.

I looked over toward her and replied. “I’ll have the classiest date there.”

The picnic grounds were at a camping resort about twelve miles outside town. It only took about fifteen minutes to get there. We pulled into the grassy parking area about ten of two. It didn’t seem like there were enough cars in the lot for the couple dozen employees who had invitations.

I jumped out and ran around the car to offer Kay my hand as she slipped out of her seat.

“Such a gentleman.” Kay remarked.

“Well we are on a date.” I answered as I extended my arm for her to hold onto.

The hand written sign at the entrance to the picnic grove read. “Harper Co. Picnic Pavilion 4.” With an arrow pointing the way.

As Kay and I walked down the crushed stone path to pavilion 4 she remarked. “Glad I didn’t wear heels today.”

I giggled understanding she was talking about how heels would dig into the tiny stones but said. “Hard to win the sack race in stilettos.”

“Sack race this!” Kay exclaimed holding a middle finger up toward me.

“Just kidding.” I answered.

As we approached pavilion 4 Bill Peterson came strolling toward us a Bud in one hand and a long thick cigar in the other. He was obviously already half in the tank.

“Goodman!” He exclaimed in a rather loud obnoxious voice.

“Hey Bill.” I replied hoping we’d just pass each other. Unfortunately he steeped directly in front of Kay and me.

Switching his beer to the same hand he held his stogie in Bill extended his free hand toward Kay. “And you would be?” He asked his eyes clearly fixed on Kay breasts.

Kay smiled and replied. “I would be Allen’s date.” A curt little grin coming to her lips letting Peterson know she wasn’t the least bit interested in offering him her name.

Bill looked at me and said. “Some date Goodman.”

I wasn’t sure if his statement was meant to complement Kay or not so I just let it go. Kay on the other hand looked him straight in the face and said. “Fuck off Bill.” I assumed she was having none of his complements.

Peterson looked somewhat surprised at what Kay had said and just stumbled off mumbling something about just trying to be friendly.

“What an ass hole.” Kay whispered giving my arm a squeeze as we walked into the pavilion.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

“A diet coke would be great.” She replied.

I grabbed two from the big cooler and opened Kay’s before handing it to her. “Thank you I always seem to break a nail on those little tabs.” She said.

We spent the next half hour or so moving around between the rows of picnic tables saying hello and introducing Kay to those guests that weren’t already half loaded.

Marge was there with her equally rotund husband. She had on her favorite pair of spandex pants and what looked like a floral print pup tent.

“Nice to meet you Kay.” Marge said after I’d introduced her to Kay.

Kay struck up a polite conversation with Marge and as they talked I scanned the area for signs of Francine and her husband Jim.

I noticed Marge’s husband staring at Kay’s breasts and decided that was enough of that.

“Come on Kay. I have some other folks I’d like you to meet.” I said

“Nice talking with you Marge.” Kay said as I pulled her away.

When we were a safe distance away from them Kay leaned up and whispered in my ear. “Did you ever see the movie Pee Wee’s Big Adventure?”

I looked at her with a confused expression on my face.

“You remember. Pee Wee Herman traveled all over the country trying to find his stolen bicycle?” Kay continued.

“I think I do.” I answered.

Kay giggled then whispered. “Pee Wee hitched a ride with a trucker. Her name was Large Marge.”

I laughed as I recalled Large Marge was some kind of ghost trucker.

“Now I remember.” I said knowing that from then on Marge would be Large Marge to me.

“Wanna sit down for a little?” I asked.

“Yes sounds good. My feet are killing me.” Kay remarked.

I forgotten that she’d been on her feet all morning at the shop.

We found an empty picnic table and Kay stepped over the bench and sat down. I sat beside her with one leg under the table and one outside facing the pathway from the parking field so I could keep an eye peeled for Francine.

Kay took a sip of her drink then turned toward me and asked. “So where is this Francine?”

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

It was the night before my buxom teenage girlfriend Heather was due to leave to start her freshman year. She’d stayed the night at home with her parents trying to get everything together for her departure. It was a weekday so my other kinda-girlfriend Sam, a twenty-something beauty, was staying at her own apartment with her live-in but barely hanging-on boyfriend, Danny.

It was strange, being here alone in my own bed for the first time in awhile. Strange and sad because Heather was going away for several months. I made the best of it with my one small consolation: I luxuriated in the king-sized bed’s extra space by stretching out spread-eagled and falling asleep like that.

I was awakened from a dead sleep by the slam of my bedroom door. I bolted upright to see a slender little body standing with her back to the door. It was Samantha. Her straight dark hair was down and she was wearing a… hmmm… she was wearing a “Go Lions!” t-shirt like the one from my old high school. There weren’t any pants, at least none I could see. Her smooth, slender legs were bare. She had little white cotton socks on her feet.

I had just enough time to take this in before Sam scrunched her face up in frustration and demanded, “Hurry up and fuck me again before Mom and Dad get home.”

“Huh?” was all I could say. I was still mostly asleep.

Sam walked to the foot of my bed, her face a perfect mask of annoyance. “What are you deaf? I said, ‘hurry up and fuck me again before Mom and Dad get home!’ Their plane just landed at the airport. They’ll be back from their vacation in less than an hour. If you want to fuck me again before you go back to college and leave me here alone to deal with dumb high school shit, you need to do it now. So come on.”

She whipped off the sheet I had covering my naked body.

My sleep-addled brain got traction and my heart skipped a few beats as I reached two conclusions. First, Sammie was crazy. Second, this was going to be fantastic.

“Nice!” she giggled, looking at my now-exposed nudity. “Did you know your little sister was going to sneak in here for one last fix?”

Sam slid into bed between my legs with her face by my groin. “Oh goody, I’ve never had it in my mouth when it’s still all soft and cute. Usually by the time I get to it, you’re all big and hard and scary.”

With that, she swooped her mouth down to take my slowly rising erection into her mouth. She looked up at me, eyes sparkling, as she swirled her tongue and suckled. We both felt my cock grow harder

As I swelled to my full length and girth, she coughed and spat me out. She took me in her small hand and stroked me up and down slowly. “”I’m going to miss you so much when you go away big brother.” She emphasized the significance of the last two words.

She continued stroking while her other hand pulled up her high school t-shirt. There were tiny cotton panties there beneath it with little pink and red hearts all over them. “Of course, parts of me will miss you more than others,” she nibbled her lower lip as she circled her sex through the fabric.

She released me to slap against my own stomach. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and quickly hauled her underwear down and off. She wiggled her eyebrows in a silly way and tossed them onto my chest

My breath caught when I saw her nude from the waist down. Sam had shaved her trademark little pubic triangle into the shape of a small heart that pointed downwards. Goddamn that was cute.

“I’ve loved you forever you know, big brother, ” she confided as she rose onto her knees to straddle me.

“Since as far back as I can remember,” she lowered herself until her smoothly-shaven labia came to rest warmly against the underside of my cock. She humped against me in a long pump of her hips that started with her back arched severely and ended with her hunched so far forward that my cock head dragged up the crack of her ass. I felt her wetness coat me.

“You used to push me on the swings,” she bent down to kiss me. She didn’t smell like her usual honey and sandalwood just then, she smelled sweeter. Simpler. Like cotton candy, I realized, as she reached beneath herself to take my shaft in her hand and center me on the hot opening of her vagina.

“You put band-aids on my scrapes when mom and dad weren’t home.” She teased us both by moving me away and rubbing the tip of my cock up and down her slit.

“You held me when my hamster died,” she smiled, and wriggled my end against her clitoris for a few long moments. A little moan slipped from her lips.

“You teased me about my pigtails,” she slowly re-centered us firmly at her hot opening again.

“You told me I was pretty when I needed to hear it – when I hit puberty and got gangly and awkward and I had to have braces,” she rolled her hips, pressing down into me until I felt her lips gave way and my dick just breached the mouth of her pussy.

I held my breath and prayed. “This is not a dream. Not a dream. Not a dream.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam panted, “I love how it şişli escort feels when it’s just slipping inside me right in the beginning. You stretch me so good.” She slowly forced herself down onto me, rocking her hips from side to side to swallow me up into the heat of her tiny body.

She leaned down to kiss me sweetly on the lips then laid herself flat along my body with her cheek resting on my shoulder. Her arms were flat against her sides. I hugged her small body, reaching down to cup one of her firm little buns in each hand. She kissed my neck and I felt her warm breath there. We didn’t move for a few long moments. This was wonderful on so many levels.

Sam started us with a flick of her hips that slid me in and back out by maybe an inch.

“You really are a good brother. You drove me crazy sometimes but I realize that now.” She laughed softly. “You told me I was ugly when I needed to hear that too – when I got pretty and vain and spent too much time looking in the mirror and obsessing over boys.”

I cupped her little ass cheeks in one hand, moving the other up to stroke her back through the cotton t-shirt at the same time. I began to slowly fuck up and down into her.

Sam groaned as we rutted like this for a few minutes.

“I pictured you the first time I touched myself,” she confided into my neck.

I rolled us over until she was beneath me, not breaking our connection. She looked up at me with huge, happy green eyes and lifted her spread legs high in the air. They continued higher still until her knees rose ridiculously past her own chest and brushed the bed on either side of her torso. She was folded in half beneath me.

She grinned and reached a hand down through her impossibly spread legs to play at her own clitoris. She giggled a little and continued talking, “I never told you this, but I watched you masturbate in the shower once. God, there was so much cum. “

I began to fuck her again. Gently at first. Then more roughly, Sam tilting her hips up to meet hungrily at each thrust.

“I still think about you coming all over the shower when my boyfriend fucks me. Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend it’s you fucking me. “

Sam was deep in my head – jacked into my fantasies and feeding them jet fuel. All of my buttons were getting pushed at once. I was writhing in a mix of imagined urges. A righteous urge to protect – a taboo urge to fuck – a sister I never had but who was right here underneath me.

Sam’s slid her hands up from her own crotch, one flung loosely on the bed above her head. The other grabbed the bottom hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up, way up, until it was bunched around her neck. It revealed the flat, tight, olive skin of her stomach and her bouncing, firm, B-cup breasts capped with hardened little light tan nipples.

“Hurry up, big brother,” she urged, “I hear their car. It’s pulling up the driveway. Come on me. Come all over your little slutty sister.”

The automatic garage door downstairs started to open.

It was the last piece… a final thrill that fell into place. It was the thrill borne on the risk of getting caught. I hadn’t told Sam about it because even I didn’t realize it was lurking in the background. What happens if you get caught doing something so universally forbidden as fucking your sister? Sam had seen the potential for fear – seen it and looped it into our fantasy and then plucked it like a cello string.

My eyes widened and my mouth hung open. Dear lord this woman had a dark gift. I fucked her even harder.

“Come on big brother,” Sam teased, cupping her boobs and pinching her own nipples gently, “blow your load all over my teenage tits. I can still make it back to my bedroom before they get upstairs.” She plucked again at the cello string.

That did it. I barely had time jerk myself free from her pussy, then scramble up her body to straddle her hips as Sam let her legs fall back down to the bed. I couldn’t even stroke myself fully once. I came, but not the normal sense: my dick, my balls, and my goddamn prostate had a syncopated seizure. My first stream of cum arced over Sam’s head, it’s trailing edge just catching the hair at her forehead. The next two struck her on the underside of her chin with a forceful, wet splat. Several more heavy spurts, I lost count at half a dozen as my head swam, fanned out across her chest and belly, bathing her body in cum.

“Yessss, that’s it. Come for your sexy little sis,” Sam hissed as I continued to paint her like this and she quickly slipped one arm beneath me to her own sex and began masturbating frantically. The other she used to start spreading my warm semen across her chest and belly in a large circular motion.

I looked down at her, grinned, and egged her on. “Do it, make yourself come for me. I want to see you twitch out one of those hot little girly orgasms.”

Sam’s eyes rolled in circles with pleasure.

“And don’t you dare shower,” I urged, “I want you to show up for homeroom taksim escort tomorrow with my cum all over your body. I want you to reek of nasty, incestuous sex.”

It was what she needed to hear. Sam’s hips jerked off the bed so hard and fast that her belly bumped solidly up into me. She came with a deep grunting “Uuuuuugghhhh,” her head swinging wildly from side to side, as she found her well-earned release.

When she finished, I collapsed onto the bed beside her, turning on my side to face her.

She stayed laying on her back but turned her head to look at me. “So what’d you think?” she asked, biting her lower lip sexily, as she went back to spreading my cooling semen around her belly and chest.

“I think you should be working for the government torturing terrorists for information that might keep our country safe! How the fuck did you get into my head like that?”

“It’s not too hard really. I just build a ‘you’ in my head.”

“Eh?” She’d lost me.

“I think it’s kind of like profiling.” She paused, then continued because my puzzled look showed I still wasn’t following her.

“You know how police profilers come to a crime scene and try to understand the person who did it? They take in all the little bits of information they can find and try to answer that one question. Well, I’m doing the same thing just backwards… I take everything I know or can reasonably guess about you and imagine ‘What is somebody like you thinking?’ It’s a knack.”

“I’m going to call it ‘evil genius.’ OK, what was up with the garage door downstairs opening? If you’re telekinetic, I’m going to…”

I stopped when she reached a hand above her head then picked it up with a giggle. It held the remote control for my garage door. “Got you didn’t I?”

I groaned and slapped my forehead. Then something hit me, “Wait, we’ve never had sex, like this anyway, all this time. You said ‘it’ belonged to…” I trailed off.

Sam nodded, smiling weakly. “I left Danny today. ‘It’ is yours if you want it.” She turned her back to me and wiggled her butt at me. “Spoon with me? I’m tired Hero. So tired. I want to sleep in the arms of a boy who cares.”

I moved in behind her and we cuddled in the quiet dark, letting the heat between us build to a bone-deep warmth.

“Sam?” I asked after several minutes.

“Hmmm?”

“Do I have a knack?”

“Sure.” she said, kissing my arm.

“What is it?”

“You make the people close to you feel safe, Hero. You make us feel safe.”

She fell asleep almost immediately; snoring softly in a hypnotic, regular way that took me with her.

Our late night activities had worn us out such that Samantha and I slept unusually late the next morning. I woke up to the sound of giggling and whispers. I peeked an eye open. Peaches had dropped by. She was stretched out on the bed with us and the girls were talking.

“So how did it go?” Peaches asked her.

“It went.” Sam shrugged.

“Hello, more details, please? Leaving Danny was a big thing.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. I packed up my stuff. I told him I didn’t love him, that maybe I never loved him. Then I left.”

“And he didn’t do anything?” Heather wondered.

“Not much,” Sam shrugged then smirked. She was holding something back.

“He didn’t say anything?” Heather pressed.

Sam grinned. “He said something like ‘Please don’t shoot me you crazy bitch!’ “

“You pulled a gun on him?” Heather gasped

I groaned. I knew it. I put my head in my hands.

“So did you shoot him?” Heather asked incredibly.

“Nope.” Sam shook her head.

“You didn’t even wing him?” Peaches actually sounded a little disappointed.

“Nope.”

“Did you shoot the Xbox at least?”

That thought made Sam pause. “Huh… I didn’t think of that.”

“Phooey, I would have at least shot the Xbox,” Heather rolled her eyes and looked over at me.

“Now who’s being Sithy?” Sam snickered and patted Heather’s denim-clad thigh.

We got out of bed. Sam and I pulled on some clothes and called separately into work to let the office know we weren’t coming into work.

It was getting late and Heather was already running behind schedule. Her first orientation was at noon and her drive would take three hours. Sam and I walked out to the driveway to see her off.

Sam carried a bag of Heather’s things down to her little yellow car to try and find somewhere to stuff it.

Heather paused with me at the top of the driveway. She didn’t turn to look at me at first when she said “You know, she waited until now to sleep with you partly because I asked her to. I wanted more you and me time this summer before I left. I know… it was a little selfish. “

She finally turned to me and fiddled nervously with a lock of her golden hair. “I’m leaving now so I gave her the go ahead. You can keep each other company until I come home on break.”

I was stunned. “Peaches, I can’t believe I’m going to say topkapı escort this but… look… I’m not just some kind of baton that you can pass along to someone else when…”

She stopped me with a kiss.

Up on tiptoes, she planted her little teenage mouth on mine and gave me a kiss that leaked a little of her soul into me. “I’m in love with you, you ass. In love with you both and I don’t want to go.”

I was instantly mollified. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you too. You do need to go though. Go be a college girl. Dance in beer puddles and make some teenage boy’s wet dreams come true.”

Sam came up the driveway to join us.

Heather smiled a little sadly. “I’ll be back every break I get.”

“He’ll be waiting. We’ll be waiting. ” Sam said, slipping an arm around Heather’s waist from behind.

Heather cocked her head at me. “Take good care of her while I’m gone?”

“Of course.”

“Seriously, if she calls me crying and it’s your fault, I’ll flash my naughty bits at the two biggest frat boys I can find on campus. Then I’ll tell them I’ll fuck them if they kick your ass first and I’ll give them your address.”

“Wow, that could probably work.” I stuttered. Peaches had devised a way to leverage her amazing body directly into a threat of physical violence. I was morbidly impressed.

“Yup.” Threat finished, she hugged me. Her superboobs mashed into my chest.

“Go ahead, squeeze it,” she whispered, holding me tight.

“Mmmh?”

“Squeeze it. You know you want to.”

I did want to. I was that transparent. I slid my hands down to my favorite little teenage bubble butt and gave it a good squeeze.

“Yeah, that’s better,” she whispered into my neck.

We hugged each other for a moment like that until she kissed me again and I let her go.

Heather kissed Sam sweetly then too. Sam cradled Heather’s face with a delicate hand and the smooch turned a little more passionate; tongues slipping together through open mouths. Heather snuck a palm up to one of Sam’s breasts and squeezed it with a giggle and a silly “honk honk.” Sam laughed with her. Heather slipped away.

We watched as Heather got in her car. She rolled down her window and waved as she pulled out of the driveway.

“…connections…,” Sam teased me. It made me chuckle. Sam turned serious though. “So Hero, is this all just for fun or is this really going to be our life… is it what you want?”

Admittedly, I’m a babbling, verbose bastard most of the time. But for some things, I’ll get as terse and manly as can be. Fewer words can sometimes mean more.

I nodded my chin towards Heather’s car as she paused at a stop sign and then turned slowly out of sight. “She’s pretty. She’s good. I love her,” I said simply.

“And me?”

“You’re pretty. You’re complicated. I love you too,” I smiled at her and squeezed my arm around her shoulder tightly.

Sam looked at me intently, applying the ‘knack’ she’d just explained the night before. I realized that she’d done this to me several times before. “If it helps,” she finally said softly, “I believe you. And I feel exactly the same way.”

“It does. You should. And I’m glad.” I kissed her on the top of her head.

We went back inside and I talked the recently-homeless Samantha into moving in with me.

****

It wasn’t much later that the mystery of Samantha cracked open a little bit more. Early that fall – October-ish. It happened after a few pitchers of mojitos on a Sunday afternoon. I know, it’s not a fall drink, but it was warm that day, nearly 80 degrees, and I was clinging reluctantly to summer like the brightly colored leaves were clinging reluctantly to the trees. Sam and I were were lounging side-by-side in a couple of chairs and taking in the pretty view.

It had been quiet for nearly an hour and I thought Sam had fallen asleep. Her somewhat feline qualities included being prone to short catnaps at quiet moments when it suited her. That’s why it surprised me a little when she softly started talking out of nowhere: “Hero, I need you to know something. You know, before this all gets serious.”

“Serious, Sam?” I chided her, “we’ve been living together for months. We’re already at an ‘8’ on the serious scale.”

She smiled weakly, “Don’t be a dork, I’m trying to tell you something important.” She sighed. “The drunk driver that killed Stephen, my first love? Remember how I told you he committed suicide?”

“Uh huh,” I fought the urge to turn to look at her face. It felt like confession. Sitting side-by-side like this, all we needed was a screen.

“That was only 99% true.”

In fits and starts, Sam told me what she’d done and how she did it. When she finished, I still didn’t turn to look at her. I just reached out for her hand and took it. “I might have done the same thing,” I offered as a small comfort.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” she said quietly, “it’s why I love you and it’s why I need you. Keep me safe, Hero. Not just from other people… but from myself.”

I nodded. Frankly, that had been Plan A pretty much from the start.

“Don’t tell Peaches?” One of us asked.

“Maybe someday she can know.” One of us said.

It didn’t matter who said what because we both nodded, then took a sip from our drinks and went back to looking out at the brightly colored leaves in the trees.

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

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

Chapter 1

Life has a strange way of surprising you. One day things are going along perfectly and then suddenly everything you thought you knew gets flipped upside down. How we react to these changes defines us as people. Do we cave in and surrender our happiness to the unforeseen circumstances, or do we embrace change and adapt to deal with the new opportunities we face?

Sometimes those changes cause us pain and sorrow. Sometimes they hurt so badly that it becomes difficult to take a breath. Sometimes they leave us devastated and longing for the bliss of previous our lives, before the upheaval and chaos left in the wake of the changes.

Maybe it would be better if we all had crystal balls with which we could perceive our futures with total clarity. Would we want to know our fate if somehow the Universe could accurately reveal it to us? If we could understand that our marriage was doomed to serial infidelity or that our child would die in a horrible accident at the age of ten, would knowing help us? What would life be like if we knew what lay before us? What kind of life would we have if we knew precisely the outcome of every decision, every action?

I don’t think I could live like that. I prefer to go through life without certainty, to take chances and hope for the best outcome. It hurts to lose something or someone you love. However, to avoid feeling love because you know it won’t last is just sad beyond imagining. I would rather live in blessed ignorance and take each day as it comes, than base my feelings and actions on perfect prescience. I would prefer to enjoy as many years as possible in a love-filled marriage than remain single because I know that one day my husband will die.

As I sat staring out of the passenger window at the blaze of autumn colors and rocky peaks of the Colorado mountains, I wiped away a single tear. My husband Danny, always so perceptive, lightly caressed my arm. I met his gaze and tried to smile at him, but it would only come out halfway.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, as he raised my hand and softly kissed my fingers.

I nodded, unable to put into words what I was feeling. I squeezed Danny’s hand tightly and leaned my head on his shoulder. I let out a long, slow sigh and whispered, “Eventually.”

My father was dead.

Technically, Thomas Winslow was not my father, but he was the only one I had ever known. My birth father was an unknown sperm donor who had raped my mother on her sixteenth birthday, leaving her battered, scarred emotionally, and pregnant with me. In her heart of hearts, she couldn’t bear the thought of having an abortion. She believed all life was precious, even that of the illegitimate product of an act of violence. Thomas Winslow had been my mother’s savior, and he had loved me as his flesh and blood.

My life began with one of those sudden surprises. One day my mother Maggie was a happy-go-lucky teenager, enjoying her life in a small town in rural Texas. The next day she was in the hospital with two black eyes, three broken ribs, and one embryo growing inside her.

To make things even worse, her Bible-thumping parents blamed her for being raped. They said the devil inside her made her dress in provocative clothing and entice men into fornication. “She got what she deserved,” was, I believe, how my grandfather put it.

I lied when I said the sperm donor was unknown. He was known; in fact, he was very well known. His father was the mayor of their little town. Of course, he denied that it was rape. He said that my mother was a slut and had fucked all of his friends and he just took his turn. Everyone ignored the fact that she had been a virgin and had done nothing to provoke his attention.

As the pregnancy began to show, life became increasingly unbearable for Maggie. Her father was an abusive drunk, who decided that since his daughter was now spoiled, he might as well take advantage of her too. Her mother turned a blind eye to the abuse, blaming Maggie for that as well.

One day, Maggie had enough. She packed what little she owned into a backpack and left home. Nobody was surprised. Nobody cared. Nobody even looked for her. She was alone with no money and no hope. All she had was me.

She struggled to find a job, any job. She waited tables, washed dishes, and even cleaned people’s houses. Once I was born, it became even harder for her. Welfare and food stamps helped, but life was difficult. Maggie never knew where her next meal would come from and had no hope for any kind of future. She came very close to giving me up for adoption. It wasn’t because Maggie didn’t love me; It was because she did. She thought it was the only chance I would have to secure a decent life.

That’s when another one of life’s sudden surprises happened. Maggie was working three jobs and caring for an infant. She was in a continuous state of exhaustion and desperation and arrived late at her waitressing job one too many times. Maggie begged Gus, the manager, to give her another chance, pleaded with him to not fire her. He refused. However, he had another way she could make some money.

Maggie otele gelen escort was a beautiful girl. Even after having me, she was drop-dead gorgeous, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and an incredible body. Men were always flirting with her and trying to get her to go out, or more. She wasn’t at all interested. All she cared about was taking care of me.

When the manager of the restaurant told her that he had another business where she could make a lot more money than waiting on tables, she was intrigued. She knew that there were very few opportunities for a high-school dropout and single mother of a fifteen-month-old baby.

“A pretty girl like you can make a shit load of cash,” he explained, “you just gotta be accommodating to the customers.”

“What do you mean ‘accommodating’?” she naively asked.

“You got a kid,” he began, “so you ain’t no virgin. I think you know what I mean. Plus, the way I hear it, you been known to give it away. All I’m saying is why give it away when you can make money doing it.”

Maggie realized what he meant. “I ain’t no prostitute!” she fired back defensively. “I’ll go hungry before I do anything like that.”

“Ain’t nobody talking about prostitution. Hell, prostitution is illegal in Texas. You legal ain’t ya?” he asked her as he stared at her body with lustful eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asked, not sure exactly where the conversation was going.

“I mean you’re eighteen now, right?” he asked as he pushed his chair back from his beat-up desk.

“Yeah, I turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago. Why?” Maggie asked, feeling lost.

“You got no high school diploma. Ain’t nobody gonna give you no job that pays you three hundred dollars a week, after taxes. You got a baby to feed.” He softened his tone and smiled at Maggie. “Look, you’re a pretty girl. You got a body most women would kill to have. Why not do work that takes advantage of what you got to offer.”

“Three hundred dollars?” she asked, mouth hanging open in surprise, “A week?”

“Hell, with your looks,” he began, “you could probably make double that. Just depends on exactly how accommodating you’re willing to be.”

Maggie shook her head. She was growing angry. “I ain’t gonna be no hooker.”

Her former boss cut her off, “Maggie, ain’t nobody asking you to be a hooker.”

“Then what are you talking about?” she asked, the confusion clearly showing on her face.

“Look, I own a little club outside of town. It’s kind of off the books and not something I would brag about in church on Sunday.”

“What kind of club?”

“Well, it’s kind of a dancing club.”

“What kind of dancing club?”

“The kind of dancing club where pretty girls like you dance for men and show off their bodies.”

“You mean a strip joint?” she asked, her voice rising several decibels.

“Pipe down, girl.” he said, shushing her, “I don’t need all these old biddies in here knowing my business. Yes, a strip joint. My cousin Darryl runs it, but I own it. If you want, I can hook you up with a job.”

“You need waitresses?” she asked, innocently.

“Well, you could start out as a waitress and see what you think, but the real money is in dancing. You can dance can’t you?”

“I was a cheerleader in school and on the dance team,” she said, thinking back to better days.

“Then you would be perfect at it. The only difference is, you take off your clothes while you dance.”

“I ain’t gonna get naked for a room full of horny old men!”

“They ain’t all old,” he said, laughing, “but they are all horny. That’s for damn sure.”

“Why can’t I just wait tables?”

“Maggie, the waitresses are topless. So, if you’re gonna show off your tits, you might as well do it dancing and get a fuck of a lot more in tips than a waitress.”

Maggie stopped and was thinking about it hard. Her three shitty jobs paid her about five dollars an hour, which added up to only about two hundred a week before taxes. With a job that paid this well, she could quit her other two and spend more time taking care of her baby.

“Look,” he started in again, sensing her indecision, “you could do it one night and see how you like it. If you feel good, you come back and keep doing it. If you don’t, then you go get a job someplace else. No harm, no foul.”

“Can I try out as a waitress and see if I like that?”

“Baby, you don’t want to be no waitress. All the waitresses are used-up trailer park trash and old women with saggy tits. A good looking girl like you, with no education and no prospects, was made to be a stripper. You will be the hottest one in the joint and the men will give you all their money just for a chance to be near you.”

He was laying it on thick, but he meant every word of it.

“Three hundred a week?” she asked. Gus could tell he had her now.

“Minimum,” he said, “just depends on how nice you are to the customers, and how much you are willing to show off.”

Maggie had limited choices. She needed money, and she needed it now. She was behind on her rent and was probably pendik escort two or three days away from being evicted.

“If I said yes, when could I start and when could I get paid?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

“You could start tonight. Try it out. See what you think. You keep whatever tips you get plus a cut of every table or lap dance and commissions on drinks and upsells. We pay out nightly from the cash drawer at the end of your shift.”

She stood there contemplating it. She was undecided until her boss sweetened the pot.

“I’m so confident you’re gonna make a ton of money, I’ll front you a hundred bucks right now. All you gotta do is show up tonight at 8:30 and work until 1 AM. You pay me back the hundred out of your earnings and keep what’s left. If you don’t make enough, you keep everything, and we call it even.”

He pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket, peeled off a hundred dollars and extended it to her.

Maggie stared at it for several seconds, then reached out and took it from him.

“Smart girl,” he said as she put the money into her pocket. He wrote down the address and gave it to her. “Arrive around 8:30. I’ll get you set up and teach you the ropes. Then you’ll work from 9 or so.”

“What should I wear?” she asked. She had never been to a strip club before and had no clue what was appropriate. Her boss thought about it for a minute before answering with a grin.

“Just wear what you have on. They’ll love the waitress uniform.”

Maggie nodded and started to leave.

“Oh, just one more thing,” he said, stopping Maggie before she could get out of his office. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

“What’s that?” she asked, looking nervous.

“I need to see you naked. I need to make sure you ain’t got no scars or three tits, a monkey tail or anything weird.”

She froze and stared at him. “You mean, now?”

“Yeah, that is if you want the job? If not, you can give me back my hundred bucks and get the fuck out of my office.”

Maggie lowered her head in shame as she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood before her boss in only a simple white bra and practical white panties. Her breasts overfilled her 38D bra. The dark circles of her nipples were semi-visible through the white lace. Her full, hairy bush was also visible as a dark triangle in her underwear.

“You got any sexier underwear than that?” he asked as he stared at her body. She was incredibly uncomfortable. She’d only ever been this exposed to her rapist and her doctors.

“This is all I have,” she replied quietly, embarrassed by her poverty-driven state. She was ashamed for having to sink this low.

Her boss peeled off some more bills and handed them to her. “Here’s another hundred bucks. You don’t have to pay this back. Go buy yourself something sexier. Get your kid something while you’re at it. And for God’s sake, eat something.”

Maggie started crying as she took the money from him. “Thank you,” she managed to say between sobs. She bent down to retrieve her dress.

“Hold on,” he stopped her, “you ain’t done yet. Take the rest off.”

She looked up quickly meeting his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat. He was staring at her intently. She felt a tingling inside her that she didn’t recognize like butterflies were swarming in her chest, belly, and lower. Her nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric of her bra.

She did as he told her and reached behind to unhook her bra, but Gus stopped her.

“Hang on, girl,” he said sternly. “You need to take your time and do it slow. You’re trying to seduce the men to get them to want to watch you and give you their money. It ain’t just about taking off your clothes; it’s about how you take them off.”

She stood staring, not knowing what to do. “I don’t know how to do that,” she replied, sounding despondent.

“You can dance, right?” he asked rhetorically, “So, dance and turn around slowly.”

She frowned. “There ain’t no music.”

“Pretend there is. Look the men in the eyes. You want to be in control. You have a lot of weapons at your disposal. You need to learn to use them.”

“Weapons?” she asked, clearly confused, “What do you mean I got weapons?”

Gus laughed. “Yeah, weapons. You don’t kill people with them, but you sure as hell can make men willing to do just about anything to see you or to touch you. You need to learn to use your weapons to make men your puppets, to control them.”

The idea of being able to control men was intriguing to Maggie, but she wasn’t connecting the dots.

“What weapons do I have?” she asked innocently.

“Well, your looks for one. You got that wholesome, girl-next-door, naive look that men love. You need to smile and look the men in the eyes, and you’ll make them melt.”

She smiled.

“See, now was that so hard?” Gus asked, chuckling.

“No,” she answered, “it ain’t hard.”

“Now, your tits is one of your best weapons. Men will drool all over you for the chance to pay you to see them. Don’t rus escort give it up so quickly. Make them work for it.”

“Work for it?” she asked.

“Yeah, tease them. Make the customers think you’re going to show them, then don’t. Each time you do, you’ll get their attention more and more. Don’t tease too much, or you’ll frustrate them. So, no more than three or four times.”

“Three times. How do I tease them?” she queried, revealing her lack of experience.

“Damn, girl, ain’t you never had a boyfriend or done anything to turn somebody on?” he asked, but knew the answer before she responded.

“Never mind. You can reach up and slowly pull a strap off your shoulder and wink at one of the men, then put it back. Then dance around a little, then pick another man, look into his eyes and pull both straps down. Leave them hanging down. Try that now.”

Maggie nodded, then awkwardly danced around, looked at Gus and pulled the strap down, then put it back up.

“Slow down, Maggie,” he chided, “this ain’t a race. Make your movements slow and smooth.”

She nodded again, then danced around.

“Keep eye contact with your customers,” Gus called out.

Maggie looked at him as she danced.

“Smile!” he tossed out.

She gave him a small, soft smile that was incredibly sexy.

“Yeah that! Just like that. It makes you look horny.” He saw her facial reaction to his words, then added, “You know what it’s like to be horny, don’t you.”

Maggie looked at the floor.

“Oh holy hell,” Gus said with exasperation. “I can see your nipples are hard as little rocks and you’re breathing hard. What are you feeling right now, inside?”

Maggie thought about it.

“It’s like butterflies are playing a football game inside me. It’s like I’m scared and excited all at once like it’s hard to breathe and even harder to think.”

“What do you feel in your pussy?” Gus asked, but immediately modified his question, “between your legs, I mean.”

“I know what a pussy is Gus,” she said, smiling, “I ain’t stupid.”

Gus laughed warmly. Maggie was beginning to see a different side of the older man.

“Ok, well what do you feel in your pussy?”

“That’s where the butterflies are the most.”

Gus smiled, “That’s what it feels like when you get horny. Your nipples get hard. You feel all tingly and your breath changes. Your pussy starts feeling warm. When you get really horny, your pussy starts to get wet.”

Maggie made a slight gasp when she heard his explanation.

Gus noticed Maggie’s reaction and surmised what the cause was. “Your pussy is getting wet now, isn’t it?”

Maggie bit her bottom lip, then nodded her head slowly. “Is that bad?”

“Bad?” Gus replied with surprise. “Hell no, that’s damn good, girl. Ain’t nothing wrong with getting horny when you strip. Hell, you should be horny. The thing is, use that feeling to help you want to be sexy. To help you do sexy things. The sexier you act, the hornier you’ll be. But, the men will be getting horny too. You’ll have them wanting to fuck you in no time.”

Maggie looked as if Gus had struck her. “I don’t want nobody to fuck me, Gus.”

“You don’t have to let them fuck you,” he corrected her, “you just need to make them want to.”

“Why would I want them to want to fuck me?” she asked.

“So they will throw their money at you for the hope that they might get the opportunity.”

She shook her head, “Alright, as long as I don’t have to do it.”

The conversation with Maggie was making Gus change his perception of the girl. He’d heard rumors that she had been a bit of a slut, but he was having severe doubts. He stared closely at her, then asked what was on his mind.

“How many times have you had sex, Maggie?” he asked. His tone was very gentle as he admired her nude form.

She blushed again.

“Just the one time and it was rape,” she answered looking directly in her boss’ eyes. “My daddy wanted to do the same thing, but I ran away before he could.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said, sounding shocked, “you mean you ain’t never had sex just for fun?”

She shook her head quickly back and forth.

“You ever just touch yourself, you know on your pussy just to feel good?” he asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“To cum, you know have an orgasm.”

She stared at him.

“Wow, ok, we have a lot of work to do with you,” he said, giving her a gentle smile. “There’s a lot you need to know, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna make you learn it from the assholes who come to my strip club.”

She raised her eyes to look at him. If she only knew what that look did to men, she’d be dangerous.

“Will you teach me, Gus?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed. “My wife would kill me,” he said as he considered her question, “so we just won’t tell her, will we?”

Maggie shook her head, “No sir.”

“Ok, well go ahead and take the bra off, honey, just do it slowly,” Gus instructed.

Maggie unhooked her bra, shrugged her shoulders, holding the bra to her tits for several seconds. She waited for Gus to nod, then let it fall to the floor next to her dress. My mother wanted to cover her breasts with her hands but knew the whole point was to show them off. She breathed in deeply, nervously, then straightened her back and pushed her chest out, presenting her bosom to him proudly.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Editing help by: Angel Love

It was a dreary, rainy day as the Professor pulled into the parking lot of the college. The light Northwest wind blew slightly; his thoughts stuck on the fact that it was Saturday and a special class had to be held today in preparation for an upcoming test. His biology class was approaching graduation and several students were close to failing, so they had studied for an extra hour the day before, leaving them no time for their pre-test.

The Professor pulled his Corvette into the space nearest the building as he remembered again the day. There would be no lot full of cars, so he pulled up to the curb outside his classroom where He could keep an eye on it. He didn’t really think it would disappear. He just liked to look at it. His ex-wife had tried to get it in the divorce settlement six months ago, but was unsuccessful. She was lucky to get the small amount of alimony He agreed to. After all, it was her that had been screwing around on Him. He held the Corvette as more of a trophy of his victory over her and nothing more.

He opened the door to the car and placed one foot on the ground. He dressed almost casually, as it were the weekend, blue jeans and a dress shirt with his tie, loose sleeves rolled slightly to his elbow. He stood at the cars side. his fingers caressed the top above the door as he closed it. He smiled as He walked away slowly, his briefcase in hand toward the school. He unlocked the door to his wing and propped it open slightly. A breeze filled the hallway as a few papers the janitor missed blew across the floor. He went to the teachers lounge to start a pot of coffee. The clock said 10 AM, the pre-test would begin in one hour. He walked to his room after making coffee and unlocked the door, placed a sign on it that read: “Be seated~STUDY! Test starts at 11, promptly!,” then he walked back to the lounge to view the morning’s news.

Bonnie and Carolyn walked into the room to see several students sitting there. Carolyn joked with Bonnie about her crush on their teacher. “You know you want Him. It’s obvious by the way you run that damn pen over your lips when you sit and stare at him.,” Carolyn teased.

“Shut up! The whole class is here for Christ sake!,” Bonnie groaned as she giggled.

She knew her friend was right. She tried to hide it as best she could, but was not very good at hiding it. She had had a crush on him since last year when she saw him in the school gym working out. The sweat was beading on his hard chest. He was a small man but well kept. His body a bit on the skinny side but very well defined. She did not obsess of him, but couldn’t keep her eyes off him when he was around. And her little crush only got worse when his divorce was announced in the local newspaper. Since then, her light flirtation had turned to not so light flirtation. After all: He was single.

The girls took their seats next to each other where they usually sat. Joe, who sat next to Bonnie and had a crush on her smiled and attempted a hello but was shut down in the process.

“Joe, You just don’t get it, do you?, barked Carolyn, she is not interested..”

Bonnie nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard the footsteps coming down the hall from a distance. She jumped up, knocking her books from the desk and went to peer out the door, yes, he was coming. She quickly went back to sit in her seat. He walked in the room, peered around with his deep blue eyes to see who was reading and who was screwing around. He set his coffee cup on the desk then turned to the blackboard and wrote ‘PRE-TEST TODAY! HOPEYOU STUDIED!’

Bonnie mumbled something under her breath. She dropped her pen on the floor as the Professor looked to her and asked, “You have something to share with the class, Bonnie?”

She shook her head ‘no’ and looked back to her books.

He reached into his desk as he asked her again, “Are you sure there was nothing you want me to hear or know?”

A slight smile crossed his face as he threw in the ‘know’ part. He had noticed her flirting. “I could have sworn you said something.”

Again she shook her head, “No, nothing to share with the class.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of papers, his eyes fixed on her legs. “The written part of this test will be completed in 30 minutes or less. The questions are multiple choice and diagram labeling. Have we studied?” he asked as he handed the papers out to the class.

Bonnie leaned an elbow on her desk as she flipped through the papers. She nodded her head as if she were listening as she peered up to meet his gaze. She looked around the room to see if any other students saw him looking at her. Shrugging her shoulders she looked back at the papers, racking her brain for the answers.

She ran the pen over the sensuous pout of her bottom lip as she recalls his words, “Your papers are to be turned FACE DOWN until told to start.” She looked at clock. “You may review for 5 minutes then all text books are to be placed in your bags and sancaktepe escort the test will begin. This is an extremely important part of your goal to become doctors or veterinarians or whatever medical field you have chosen to pursue. Your 5 minutes begin now,” he said as he walked behind his desk and grabbed his coffee cup.

Absentmindedly, he adjusted his crotch in the jeans that fit almost too tight. “I will be right back. You may talk amongst yourselves…quietly.”

Hearing his footsteps move down the corridor, Bonnie flipped through the pages quickly. As she put her papers back in order she noticed Joe staring at her legs. She put her head in her palms as she slipped him the finger. She looked up slowly toward the desk where the teacher sat and wondered if he knew of her little crush. She blushed slightly as she lowered her head again, biting the pen as she thought.

He walked back in just as Joe was looking at her legs. He didn’t know exactly why, but it made him almost jealous, feeling his face redden slightly. “Joe, doing a little extra studying I see! Time to look at your papers flip them and begin. Good luck.”

Bonnie laughed at his words and tried to stop, turned and stuck her tongue out at Joe, then giggled and flipped her ponytail behind her back, slowly flipping over the papers and started to write her name on the top left. Pausing on the end of her name and seductively looked up at the teacher, she moaned slightly in her head and looked back at her paper, smiling as the first few answers seemed too simple to her.

The teacher pretended to not notice her sticking her tongue out at him, but couldn’t hold back a small chuckle. He walked to the rear of the class and peered out the window at the rain. The water was glistening off the windows. He stared out as if in a trance, his mind somewhere else. His hand moved up his neck to his ear, rubbing it as he felt his earring was in. He laughed and figured ‘hell it was Saturday.’ so he removed his tie slowly and unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt before heading back to the front of the class. He stopped just behind Bonnie and peered over her shoulder at her paper.

Her breath deepened as she sensed the heat of his body at her side. Her hand trembled slightly, unnoticeable as she flipped the page. She pretended to be thinking, sitting motionless, listening to his breath behind her. Goosebumps formed down her neck and back as the thoughts of him ran through her mind as he walked slowly forward again. He took in a deep breath of her scent as he slowly walked away.

“When you have finished with your test you will bring it to me and I will remove a number from this jar. That number will coincide with your oral essay, which will be conducted in private. You will have 5 minutes to explain reproduction from conception to birth. This essay does not need to be extremely accurate, but MUST contain the major importance of the process. Five minutes left for the written portion. If you are done, bring me your test, get your number and sit.”

He sneakily removed a number from the jar and placed it in the palm of his hand, separate from the rest. His heart pounded his breath quickened as the students began to approach his desk. Bonnie’s fingers ran the length of her necklace as she ran over her test to ensure everything was right. A smile crossed her face as the final answer came to her mind. She wrote it down and again flipped through the papers to ensure proper spelling and quality of answers. Satisfied she stood , adjusted her denim skirt, still looking the papers over as she saw from the corner of her eye, Joe reaching for her ass. She rolled her eyes as she moved from his reach.

From behind her, Bonnie heard Carolyn, “Your answers are near perfect girl!” She smiled at the words of her friend and moved slowly in the line toward the teachers desk.

Having noticed Joe and his attempt to grab a little ass in class, Professor Yantz looked at the student in front of his desk, “One moment, please.”

He then emptied the jar on the desk and removed the number one, handing it to Bonnie. “Would you please hand that to Joe, Bonnie? Thank You.”

She leaned over to hand Joe the number as he looked at her with a dumb stare. She sighed and waited for her turn at the desk. He replaced the pieces of paper and handed them out, never looking to see what he was picking. As Bonnie handed him her paper he slipped the last number into his right palm and reached into the jar as his eyes gazed over her body from her bare knees to her chest. He pulled his hand back out with the last highest number in his hand and placed it in hers after looking at it.

“Well, you will be last, Bonnie. Guess you have time to think about what you might say.” He smiled lightly as he thought of things she might say or things he might have her say!

Her lips parted slightly as she looked down the front of his partially unbuttoned shirt at his chest sarıyer escort and up the trails of his neck. As their eyes met she blushed and smiled lightly before turning to walk back to her seat. As she did she saw Joe standing in front of her staring at her body.

She gave him a disappointed sigh and waved him off with, “Fuck off pencil dick, you can’t handle me and I don’t want to handle you!” Her voice low enough as to not attract too much attention.

She sat and studied for her oral essay as Carolyn laughed at her friend’s comment. The Professor laughed lightly as he saw the look on Joe’s face and knew she said something to him.

“OK, class, sit down Joe. You may sit in the class next to ours and await your essay.”

He sat and went through papers as the students filed through the door out of the class.

As Bonnie approached the door Carolyn joined her side and attempted to whisper, “Ooohh you get to go last, you think he knows you have a crush on him?”

Walking faster through the door she looked at Carolyn and said, “Woman!! Jesus Christ, he heard you!”

She sat at a seat in the rear of the room and placed her school bag on a table. She traced the raindrops down the windowpane. She smiled and thought of her fingers running down his chest. She turned to help Carolyn study. He did hear Carolyn and his head had turned that direction with a slight smile before turning to the remaining class walking toward the door and giggling amongst each other about Carolyn’s remarks.

“OK…go, pick up the pace. Joe wipe that look off your face and begin. Explain the reproductive process, if you can.”

As student after student told their version of things, Prof. Yantz looked through the papers. He walked to the door of the next classroom and peered in, speaking in a low voice, “Carolyn, ready?”

He was speaking to Carolyn but had his eyes glued to Bonnie, as his stare moved up her body from her crotch to her chest, to her eyes. He turned quickly and walked from the room.

Carolyn turned to Bonnie with a smile saying. “Did you see that?”

Bonnie looked at Her, confused, “See what?”

“He was looking at your…,” Carolyn said as she pointed at her friends crotch. “Oh hell! He was not.,” Bonnie said as she giggled. “Get going for God’s sake. I didn’t help you study for nothing.”

Carolyn walked from the room as she winked and said, “I’ll save some of him for you.”

Bonnie stared out the window shaking her head and laughing at her friends comment. She watched the other students leaving the parking lot. She smiled as she tip toed and stared at the corvette there, outside the window and returned to her notes with a slight giggle.

The Professor sat behind his desk as Carolyn spoke, but his mind was in another place. He fought inside with wanting to be professional, but losing out to Carolyn’s previous words. His mind changed those words into fantasy as his crotch warmed at the thought of…Carolyn’s voice, “That was all, Sir.”

Shaking his head slightly he looked at the girl in front of his desk, “That was very good. You should do excellent on the test. Would you please send Bonnie in for me?” He knew it would have been a bad time to stand, as his crotch was warm from the thoughts running through his mind, his penis 1/2 erect.

“Boo!” Carolyn yelled as she stuck her head in the door of the classroom.

“Bitch!” Bonnie said in a laugh as she nearly fell out of her chair.

“He WANTS you. You better go, or was that cum?” she giggled as he picked her bag up from next to Bonnie’s. “I’ll see you at home. I have to go feed the dog and stuff.”

“Ok, I’ll see you there after. Grr…I am so nervous about this, you know how I am speaking in public,” Bonnie said.

As the girls hugged Carolyn said to her, “Yeah, well you’ll do better than me.”

Carolyn walked away as Bonnie realized with a smile on her face that it was Saturday. “There will be nobody here to hear me.” She fixed the back of her skirt and picked up her bag. She walked slowly into the room and sat at a desk directly in front of his and awaited his response.

“I haven’t actually graded papers but I have looked over them. Yours looked great. I see you did study.”

He looked up to her as he stood. He then realized that his cock was not quite calmed down, there was a slightly noticeable bulge and he turned to erase the blackboard.

“OK, You have 5 minutes. Relax. Begin.” he said as he walked slowly to sit on the front edge of the desk and look at her as she began to speak.

She smiled and took a deep breath. Standing to take the edge off she began, “OK, the reproductive system is made up of two parts; male and female. The female and her infinite trails of ovaries and eggs can only be made fertile by the age of 14-15, but usually only in the early stages of menstruation can she properly conceive a child. The male can be active with his sperm by sefaköy escort the age of ten and grows into his manhood slower then a female.”

She paused and prepared for her next sentence. She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. “At this time in life, both male and female must pursue intercourse, the erotic pleasure of sex.”

His eyes gazed at the sound of her voice sputtering the words ‘erotic sex’. He grinned and she continued. “The male ejaculates into the female when his pancreas and sperm sacks feel ready to release causing it to flow into the woman and join her trails. On the other hand the sperm must be quick on its journey to the egg because the woman’s natural defense system kicks in and absently destroys most of the sperm on contact.”

She paused and looked up at Him, drawing her vision from his stomach then began again, “Once the sperm has found the egg, its molecules begin to form a child. Each one duplicating at fast speeds until the ninth month when the woman delivers the child.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor, tracing over her words as she slowly sat on the desk top behind her, slowly looking up at him, wondering if she said too much, or not enough.

“Erotic, huh? And just what would you describe as ‘erotic’?” he knew he had pushed the boundaries with this question, but he had to hear her answer. In his mind maybe she would show him. He looked directly to her eyes and awaited her response.

She peered up from her downward stare as she took a deep breath, her face blushed her foot shifting slightly along the waxed surface of the floor. “Ummmm…erotic…I’m sure you have had ‘erotic’ sex before, sir. And, I am also aware of the fact that some women get pregnant from non-erotic sex. I was just giving my…” she stopped mid sentence licking her bottom lip seductively as she stared directly into his eyes… “opinion on things, as you requested.”

The look on her face and the tone of her voice now too much for him, he would make this come to be. He could see her intentions, and the fact that she seemed too nervous to follow through on them. He too was nervous, but not that nervous. He placed her test paper on the desk before her, leaning on it, his fingertips touching hers.

Her hand moved to cover his, softly caressing his skin. A small gasp escaped her lips as she shivered excitedly at the touch. Her eyes lowered as she listened to his breath and scooted her ass forward sitting deeper in the chair, allowing herself to relax. He walked slowly around her left side to just behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. He leaned toward her ear looking at her bare neck, the thought of his tongue on her skin made his crotch harden…followed by the thought that she was not explaining erotic well, maybe she wanted to be shown.

He whispered into her ear, “A pretty girl like you is in not in need of attention…however…”

She shivered lightly to his warm palm on her shoulder and moved her hand to slowly draw over a line under her necklace, his words made her blush. She kept looking down, in shock that his touch could move her the way it did. She started to breath in rhythm as all sorts of thoughts ran through her mind. She parted her lips in an attempt to breath quietly, only ending up in a smooth sensual sigh.

He moved his lips to her ear again gently whispering, “You want to see what I think is erotic? Carolyn said you might?” His hands moved slowly down her chest as his tongue dragged lightly down the skin of her neck. “Do you?”

She gasped lightly as she felt her heart jump to her throat. Her eyes closed in pleasure the moment his tongue touched her flesh. Too turned on to speak she turned her face slightly to look deep into his eyes, giving her non verbal approval. Her hands held tight to the chair. She tightened the pressure of her knees together as she felt a warm sensation run through her already wet panties.

He licked slowly across the back of her neck to her other ear and whispered, ” I take your reaction to be a yes.” His hands moved to her breasts as he kissed the warm skin of her neck, his tongue traced a line between kisses stopping only to speak again, “I think tongues are erotic.” His hands reached the bottom of her blouse and he found the skin of her stomach, “and smooth skin, that is erotic.”

Her eyes closed as her trembling lips whispered ‘Oh my God!’

She nearly fell back a bit as she gave in to his warm tender touch and the divine tingle of his tongue. Her legs crunched together tightly as she breathed ever deeper, her eyes half closed in extreme lust as she had never known. He crouched slowly behind her, his hands moving slowly back up her chest to her shoulders then down the sides of her arms to her hips and around to her belly. He placed his hands under the bottom of her blouse and stood slowly, taking her top up as well. He gently lifted it over her head as he returned to kissing her skin…shoulders, neck, down her back slightly.

He dragged his tongue back to her neck and softly told her, .”..and I think the way you look at me in class…that is erotic.,” before nibbling softly upon her earlobe.

Her hands moved to the sides of his head , as he spoke, pulling him to her and violently kissing him. Her passions burning out of control now, she stood to face him, never losing their lip contact.

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

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

[Reading the original Helping A Friend before part 2 is advisable….but not mandatory]

Benney’s world was turned upside down. Hollie was gone. For the past two years they had shared every important event of their lives with one another. Although they only met once per week, each meeting was a renewed familiarity that hurdled absences. Yet, each meeting rang with excitement, with the anticipation of new discoveries.

Hollie had scheduled the meetings randomly. They often met at an out of the way diner, several blocks from the office but on different days of the week and never at the same time. They had been open with one another, divulging their deepest secrets. It was as if they had known one another forever. Still, there was caution about her, an awareness of their surroundings, always on the lookout for danger.

She listened to him, advised him and teased him. She inquired but never pried. In turn, she told him things, secrets. And when he became serious, she laughed, automatically reaching for the strand of strawberry blond hair that always seemed to hide one of her green eyes from view.

On two occasions she had let down her guard. There had been the Christmas office party when Hollie had ventured into his department which was almost vacant. She jokingly pointed to the ceiling in a lawyer’s office, saying there was mistletoe above their heads. They kissed, then moved to the desk where Benney pinned her hips against it, stretching the knit dress with his leg between her thighs. “Too bad I’m wearing these damn pantyhose,” she had laughed when she felt his cock stabbing her stomach.

“I’m sorry about leaving you all blown up and no place to go,” she apologized when they met for lunch at the diner.

“What do you mean?” he ask, thinking he knew what she was referring to but wanting to hear her say it.

“The other day, your….condition,” she answered, blushing.

“Oh?” he teased her.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she said, leaning across the table, making him grin sheepishly. She watched him squirm before adding, “It will

be different next time, I promise.”

~*~

Benney didn’t notice when spring rains were replaced by sprouting flowers and greening grass. His mood did not change. Hollie was gone. Despondent, he felt sorry for himself. Unable to sleep, he took long walks and reflected on those meetings with Hollie, the only female he had ever known as a friend.

He sat on a park bench one early morning, sun drenching his back. Absent mindedly, he watched his shadow transgress the path, letting his mind reflect on their only night together. Tom, Hollie’s husband, had been called to his company’s home office, leaving two tickets to a hockey match. She had invited Benney to go with her.

Between periods Benney had gone to the men’s room. After waiting in a long line to take a leak he had discovered that his shorts were on backwards. His fumbling to get his cock out created a clamorous uproar in the men’s room. Hollie was in a rare carefree mood anyway, showing no concern about being seen in public with her young friend. Learning of his dilemma in the men’s room she elapsed into uncontrollable laughter, making a spectacle of herself. When she returned to her senses she suggested they leave because someone may have recognized her. In his apartment she had helped him change his bed sheets, then maneuvered him into it. They had slow passionate sex that lasted hours before Hollie pulled herself away. Now she was gone. He would never forget her and, unbeknownst to him, she would never forget him.

His head jerked, reacting to a shadow that crossed his, briefly . His eyes followed a trim body jogging down the path, ponytail transiting from side to side as it rounded a bend in the path and disappeared out of sight.

~*~

“Hey, why did you stop?” Jen turned and watched him scoop snow off of the bench. “Anything wrong?” she asked, running in place and blowing frosted breath from her mouth as she watched him take a seat.

“No, I’m fine,” he smiled up at her, “it’s just that I can’t help thinking that this is the first place I saw you, seems like such a long time ago.”

She stopped jogging in place and walked back to him, placing a gloved hand on his cheek. “I know, you remind me every time we pass this bench but you don’t have to stop every time.”

Ben stared up at the girl, wondering how he could be so lucky. A strand of hair had escaped from its binding and crossed her thin cheek. She blew it aside and watched him scrape snow aside to make a place for her.

“I want to show you something,” he said, reaching inside his running jumper.

“Okay, but make it fast, it’s not good to stop in the middle of a run, you’ll get a chill and stiffen up,” she said, taking a seat beside him.

“This came to the office yesterday,” he said, producing an envelope.

“Why didn’t you show it to me last night?” she poked his arm.

“Because I wanted to show it to you here at our bench,” he answered, removing a Christmas picture from the envelope.

“Who’s this?” she asked, mecidiyeköy escort taking the card from him. Then, seeing the young woman with the small boy and tall man she knew, even before she read the inscription, ‘from our home to yours, Merry Christmas, Tom, Hollie and Timmie.’ They wore matching green sweaters and stood in front of a two story house. Tom, the smiling executive, was wearing a stocking cap, hiding his receding hair line. Timmie was making a face. Hollie, looking as if she had just shifted a loose strand of her strawberry blond hair into place, was clutching her men as if they would bolt should she let go.

“There’s no return address,” Jen said, searching the envelope front and back. “Where do you suppose they moved?”

“The zip code is from a small town near Denver,” Ben answered, “I

suppose Tom took over the office there.

“Wonder why she didn’t put her address on the envelope.”

“I guess she doesn’t want me to have it.” He had given this thought and decided that Hollie wanted him to know that she was okay but had moved on. She had measured the risk of taking up with him again and considered it too great to chance.

“Come on, lazy, let’s finish, I want to go shopping for some curtains.”

“Aren’t you the domestic one,” he kidded as they resumed their run.

“My parents may stop by over the holidays, I don’t want my mother seeing those awful blinds you have up. What if your parents decide to come by? They’ll think I’m a tasteless decorator if I don’t do something about those windows,” she laughed over her shoulder, already two lengths ahead.

They took a long leisurely shower together and she dressed for shopping, he for housework.

‘Eight months ago I wouldn’t have thought of spending a Saturday morning this way,’ he thought as he plugged the vacuum cleaner cord into the wall outlet. He couldn’t help thinking of all that had transpired since that first meeting.

The day after her shadow had crossed his in the park he recognized the pony tail and the running outfit as he stood in line behind her at a coffee shop. He watched the small frame bounce to stay limber as she unzipped a pocket on her left sleeve. Her head turned to the left to peer into the empty pocket. There were beads of sweat rolling down her nose and cheeks.

“I can’t pay for this,” she was saying to the clerk. Her voice was level, unshaken by the shock of the empty pocket. She was pushing a hot cup of coffee toward the clerk.

“I’ll get it,” Benney heard himself say.

She turned and stared blankly at him, her eyes appraising the body that made the offer. “I can’t accept,” she said briskly, turning back to the clerk to offer her apology.

“Sure you can,” Benney insisted. As she squeezed past him he noticed that the coffee was no longer on the counter.

“That’s not good for you,” she scolded, pointing to the donut he had in one hand. She had waited for him to come out the front door. She was looking up at him, smiling. She was still in a bouncing mode, raising on her tiptoes and bouncing back on her heals. He smiled back and shrugged his shoulders.

“Thanks for paying for my coffee, I always have money in this pocket,” she began, pointing to the zipper on her sleeve, “will not always, obviously,” she laughed nervously. He nodded to acknowlege her thanks. She smiled again and walked away, briskly.

She did a double take when she saw him sitting on the bench the next morning. Stopping to run in place, “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, unzipping the pocket on her sleeve. “I’ve got money to pay you back.” She thrust a dollor bill his way but he refused to take it. “Suit yourself,” she said over her shoulder as she jogged down the path.

An irritating frown came to her face when she saw him there the next morning. She took notice that he was decked out in running gear and only slowed when it was apparent that he intended to join her.

“Did you stretch?” she asked, noticing how slow they were running.

“Sure,” he answered confidently.

“Been running long?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Just started about two minutes ago,” he said truthfully.

“Can we speed it up then?” she said, beginning to pull away.

“How far do you go?” he asked, wanting to make conversation.

She looked back, thinking of a way to shake him. She could easily

sprint off and leave him but something made her slow down so he could catch up. ‘How much did you spend on that ridiculous outfit?’ she wanted to ask.

“This part of the course is four miles but I’ve already done two, It’s two miles to the end.” She looked over at him, wondering how long he would last.

“How often do you run it,” he panted, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Maybe you should walk the rest of the way, you’re breathing hard and there’s another mile to go,” she suggested, slowing the pace again.

Benney was determined. “I’m fine,” he boasted, wishing he could bring himself to give up.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” merter escort She hadn’t seen any signs of tobacco use. She watched him shake his head.

“It’s those donuts you know,” framing her hands around her trim midsection to illustrate their affect on his gut.

She pitied him. They slowed to a rapid walk. He fell silent, beaten, but she made small talk as they walked to the end of the course. He was still breathing hard and only half heard her tell him that she ran the course four mornings per week but on Saturday or Sunday she crossed a small bridge and did two miles of the other leg of the course. “I’m training for a 10 K that’s coming up,” she volunteered.

He invited her to join him for coffee but she turned him down, saying that she would be late for work. He had wanted to sit with her and learn more about her.

“I’m Benney,” he extended his hand.

“Jennifer,” she said cautiously as she placed her small hand in his.

He decided to skip having a donut with his coffee. It was while he was shaving that it occurred to him what she had implied when she said she would be late for work. He had slowed her down.

The next morning she did not show up. ‘This may be the day she lays off, she said she runs the course four days,’ he thought. He set his new stop watch and took off at a slower pace than Jennifer had set. He finished the two miles winded but happy with the accomplishment.

He ran the two miles every morning, four with Jennifer, the other three on his own. By the end of two weeks he was able to carry on a conversation over the two miles that he ran with her. They chatted about their families and their jobs and their friends. He learned that she was a graphic designer in an advertising agency.

“I’ve heard the name,” he admitted thoughtfully.

“We do work for your company, that’s probably where you heard of us,” she teased.

It was a Sunday morning. When they reached the end of the course she headed for the bridge and the other leg of the course. He followed her.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she ask. “I’m not going to slow down for you.”

He had been extending his run each day but was still short of four miles. He pounded his gut with his fists to show that it was slimming down. In addition to the jogging he had begun visiting a gym two nights each week, working mainly on his mid section. He had not made much headway, only succeeding in becoming quite sore.

Two more weeks passed before she agreed to have coffee with him. She told herself it was a reward for the hard work he was doing. They agreed to meet at a central location one hour after finishing their run. This would give them time to stretch and shower. She arrived a little late, dressed in a short sleeved dress with a white sweater thrown over her shoulders and matching sandals. This was the first time he had seen her in a dress. It displayed her perky little breasts and her thin but muscular arms and legs.

“It must be nice to have your own place, I had to wait for the shower,” she

said, explaining why she was late. He noticed that she had taken time to highlight her eyes and brighten her thin lips. Absent was the customary pony tail, her hair streamed down on both sides of her face, nearly covering her small breasts.

This was the first time she had spoken of her living conditions. “Why, do you live with someone?” he asked, crossing his fingers, anticipating the answer.

“Two of them,” she said, shaking her head in dismay, “it was great at first, hanging out together, sharing cooking and housekeeping duties, always having someone to talk to. But things changed, we have practically nothing in common. I run, they don’t, I’m an early riser, they stay in bed, I’m a slob, they’re both neat freaks.”

She stopped talking long enough to order a bottle of water. “I’m not usually this bitchy, it’s just that I got home and there was no hot water. They had both showered. Then they complained about the way I left the kitchen.” She looked at him and laughed. “I’m not a very good room mate, that’s why I’m going to get my own place and live alone.”

“Are you really a slob? I don’t believe it,” he said. She dismissed the question with a nod and a smile.

“You’re developing some nice muscles there,” she commented, reaching across the table to feel his biceps. Her hand was small but strong. He reacted to her touch, flexing his arm.

“The race is next Saturday, can you come?” she asked, watching him for a reaction. Her hand had moved to his forearm, still resting there.

“Sure,” he beamed, feeling her hand tighten on his arm again.

She came in 25th overall, behind 20 males and 4 females. At the finish line their eyes locked. He was cheering wildly as if she had won the race.

He escorted her to a grassy spot some distance from the finish line. Too winded to speak, she leaned on him for support. He enjoyed the closeness. She pulled away to sit on the ground.

“Rub my legs,” she said, leaning back to rest on her mutlukent escort elbows. He was happy to oblige, taking first one leg and massaging the muscles, then switching legs.

“Just my lower legs, silly,” she laughed when his hands moved down to her thighs. “Hold still,” she commanded, placing her feet to his chest and pushing him backwards until her legs were fully extended. She bent her legs back, the forward again, pushing him back several times.

They were still performing this strange maneuver when they heard a high pitched voice, “that’s vulgar.”

“It only looks that way,” Jennifer said, extending her hand to Ben for him to help her up.

“Mom, this is Benney, he’s just helping me recover,’ Jennifer spoke to the woman. She was carrying a warm up jacket. “Benney, this is my mother.”

The woman was slightly taller than Jennifer but only a few pounds heavier. She smiled as she shook Benney’s hand, “So you’re Benney,” she said as if she had heard all about him, seemingly forgotten about the precarious position she had seen her daughter in.

She took the jacket from her mother and turned to Benney for him to help her put it on. “I won’t be running for a couple of days but I’ll come over and time you if you want,” she said, turning her head to look up at him. He could only smile and nod, unable to describe the warm feeling that had come over him.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered, standing on tiptoes to brush his cheek with her lips.

~*~

“I hear nothing but good things about you Benney,” his uncle announced from his end of the table. The entire extended family had gathered for Easter dinner. Like several other holidays, attending this family dinner was one of those obligations that he couldn’t shed. He wondered what Jennifer was doing today, she hadn’t said.

His uncle continued to talk but he couldn’t make out what he was saying because of the chatter between them. Relatives were exclaiming, wishing him well. “What is it that you do exactly,” Priscilla, his cousin across the table from him enquired as she reached across her husband’s plate to retrieve a bowl of peas.

Benney begin to explain his job at the insurance company but soon realized that he was ‘off the hook’ when Priscilla’s husband took issue with his space being invaded. They exchanged looks and spoke to one another in hushed tones for a full minute.

When Priscilla looked his way again it was apparent that she had either missed his answer or forgotten the question.

Dessert was served and the meal came to a conclusion. After a respectable time, making the rounds, conversing with each of the family members, his father steered Benney and his mother toward the front door.

It had rained that morning and the air was still cool as they walked down the front walk. “Hold on a minute,” his uncle shouted from the steps. “Benney, I need to talk to you, how about coming upstairs one day next week? I’ll have my secretary arrange an appointment, we need to spend about 30 minutes together.”

“Okay,” said Benney, somewhat confused by this strange request. His uncle had been firm about them not knowing one another at work.

“What’s that all about?” his father wanted to know.

“Beats me,” Benney admitted. What had been a temporary job until something better came along had become interesting. Not content to be just a clerk, Benney had expanded his role within the legal department to become an integral cog in the works. He had cataloged the claims, assigning a numerical value to each file, based on its probability of going to trial.

His charts were used by the chief to assign work to the staff.

“See Benney on that,” was often heard in the office when one of the lawyers questioned why he was working on a particular case. Benney would

explain how he had arrived at a high numerical value that pushed a claim

ahead of older claims.

“Get cracking,” the chief would say, “I’ve never known him to be wrong.”

Although Benney was still classified as a clerk, he had received two

very substantial increases in pay.

“Can we make it another day?” Benney said to his uncle’s secretary when she called to set up an appointment. “Personnel wants to see me at that same time,” he explained.

“What’s this about?” the chief yelled, making an infrequent appearance in the outer office of the legal department. He headed towards Benney with a sheet of paper in his hand. “What does personnel need this for?”

Benney could see that the chief was holding an evaluation form with his name at the top.

“I don’t know Mr. Shaw,” Benney answered, puzzled.

“Why so pensive?” asked Jennifer, “you’ve been in your own little world all evening.” He toyed with his grape nut pudding which she had insisted he try.

“I’m twenty-five,” he blurted out.

“Yes?” she said, bringing him out of his repose. He had tried to shake it. This was important, it was their first real date and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he had ignored her.

“It’s something at work,” he explained, putting down his spoon and looking at her. Jennifer was wearing a black satin dress, off the shoulders. He had seen the dark stockings and envisioned black underwear beneath the dress. Her long hair had been wrapped in a bun at the back of her head. A single strand of pearls adorned her neck. ‘How could he ignore this beautiful creature.’

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