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***Note to the reader: This story starts out as M/F story but builds up F/F. It’s beginning to turn into a little bit more of a slow moving story. So far I’m at about 5,000 words. It is bound to have some grammatical errors, maybe a few awkward sentences. If anyone is interested in editing and giving suggestions, please contact me!***

*****

Chapter 1

First day of my new job.

Eeek.

It’s not anything glamorous but, it will pay the bills. It was better than hoping the Peterson family needed a babysitter again or busting my ass at the small hardware store for $7.25 an hour. The tool shack, where no one appreciates you, laughs when you say you want the newly available night manager position and hires some idiot that you have to teach everything to. But no hard feelings. Right?

First job at a big business. A hospital. I already sat through four hours of orientation with a bunch of other new employees. Most of them were CNAs, orderlies, environmental services workers. They droned on and on about HIPAA, patient care, and other irrelevant information. Well, irrelevant for a laundry girl. Like I said before, not exactly glamorous. However, the pay was almost double what I was making at the crap shack.

I walked down to the basement to where my new manager had brought me for my interview. I peered into her office and knocked on the office door frame.

“Hi! So glad to see you! Ready to get started?” She smiled. She was a thin, middle aged woman with short, slightly greyed hair. Friendly, but so far she had been professional and to the point. I can work with that. “So how was orientation?” She asked as I followed her down a hallway and through some large double doors.

Besides agonizingly pointless? “Um, fine.” I stated awkwardly.

“Yes, it is a little lengthy isn’t it? A necessary evil, I suppose. It is more geared towards employees that will be in direct contact with patients. Oh, Lillian, dear! This is our new hire, Shea.”

“Hello” I gave a small wave. A short, plump lady that looked like she was in her fifties walked up, looking me over.

“You’re a youngin, hm?”

“I’m 21.” I said quietly.

“Most of the ladies on our team are a little bit older than you, dear. But it will be wonderful to have a fresh young face around here, won’t it?” Carrie said. “Lillian will be training you in. She’s been with us for 25 years in the linens department. Let’s start her out with something easy, the basement floors I think.” Lillian nodded.

“I’ll show you where everything is and get you some scrubs.” I nodded and followed. She showed me around the giant concrete room filled with carts that were stuffed full of scrubs, towels, blankets, sheets, and gowns. You name it, they had it. She plucked some old faded scrubs from a shelf and handed them to me. “You can put those on and we’ll get started.”

…

I threw my keys down on the counter and flopped onto my bed, exhausted. I didn’t bother to take off my shoes or jacket. This job was definitely one of those ‘overworked and unappreciated’ kind of jobs. At least I wasn’t underpaid. I rolled over and pulled out my phone.

A half hour later, Morgan was knocking on the door. I pushed my fluffy, grey cat Stanley off my lap to answer. I stopped next to the door to look in the body mirror on my wall. My long brown hair was up in a messy bun and I was sporting plaid PJ shorts and a frumpy old T-shirt. I looked at my body in the mirror. I had small chest, but at least I had an ass. I’ve been told lots of times how young I look because of my large eyes and soft features.

“Hey” he said as he closed the door behind him. He went to the fridge and popped open one of the beers he had left here last week. He took a long drink and sat down next to me on the couch. He immediately went to work, opening his small baggie of pot and stuffing it into the grinder. “How was your first day?” He asked.

“Fine. Exhausting. I’m gonna have to get a pedometer. That hospital is huge. A compass too maybe. I’m bound to get lost at some point.” He chuckled as he pinched the weed into a small chillum. He toked on it a bit before passing it to me. Ahhhhhhh, yes. I took a nice long hit, closed my eyes and leaned back into the couch. If there was one thing I could always count on, it was that Morgan would get me high. Of course, in exchange for sex. We weren’t dating but, we had an unspoken mutual agreement. He had weed. I had a vagina. That all suited me just fine. I’m not a pothead by any means but, I enjoy a smoke here and there. Usually at night or on the weekends. Morgan, however, was a ‘wake and bake’ kind of guy. I don’t think he knew how to function if he wasn’t high.

We had been seeing each other for a few months now but we didn’t talk a whole lot. We smoked and watched TV until we both had a nice buzz going. He walked over to my bed, got undressed and laid down. He laid Fatih Escort on his back with his arms behind his head, relaxed, ankles crossed. He had sandy brown hair with a slight orange tinge to it. The bit of scruff on his upper lip and chin were slightly more orange than his hair. He had blue eyes and was average build, average height and overall, good looking.

I slipped out of my shorts and lifted the shirt over my head. I knelt on the bed and Morgan narrowly opened his eyes to look at me. He grinned slightly and reached down to shake himself a bit. It wasn’t long before he had a semi-hard on. I leaned over to take his dick in my mouth. I enjoyed giving blow jobs. I know a lot of girls complain about it but, half the time I enjoy it as much as sex. I bobbed up and down on him for a while until he was hard. I pulled away, letting it flip up and hit him in the stomach. He grabbed my hips and pulled me on top of him, lining his member up with my opening. The saliva made him slide in easily. I lazily rocked back and forth on top of him until he was panting and gripping my thighs. He pushed me off at the last moment and grunted while he gave himself a few quick pumps with his hand before coming into it. He got up to clean himself off in the bathroom. I rolled over, covering myself up to sleep. Morgan came out and got dressed.

“I gotta work in the morning so I’m gonna head home”

“Thanks for the smoke.” I mumbled groggily; I was already halfway asleep.

“Yeah. No problem” he said. “I left you a nug on your coffee table.” I hummed contently and nodded. I heard the door close as I drifted off into a deep sleep. Nothing like a buzz and quick fuck to send me to bed like a little baby.

Chapter 2

“Good morning, Shea! How has it been going? Getting the hang of everything?” Carrie chirped as she walked into the lounge.

“Yeah, I think I’ve pretty much got the hang of the lower level routine.” I said as I punched in. “Have a good day, Carrie.” I said as I walked into the changing room with my scrubs. I changed, pulled my hair up into a ponytail and grabbed my cart. I started with all the areas that I knew needed my attention. I dragged three carts of dirty laundry to the dirty linens room first thing and then started on replacing it with clean stuff. I stacked some towels, scrubs and sheets onto my cart to bring to the residents lounge. There usually wasn’t anyone in there in the mid mornings. The young doctors were usually either already up and doing rounds or had gone home after their night shifts. Perfect time for restocking the cabinets and changing the sheets. I entered the lounge and knocked on the door of the first room. No answer. I tried the door; it was unlocked and unoccupied. I walked over to the cabinet with my cart and started stocking up the scrubs when I heard the door open.

“Sorry I’ll be out of the way in a moment, I’m just restocking the laundry” I said politely, as I finished topping off some of the scrubs. I turned to push my cart towards the door to leave. When I looked up, I nearly dropped the bag of dirty laundry that I was going to put on the bottom of my cart. A woman was leaning her arm against the door frame, naked from the waist up, smirking. “O- oh, god. I’m s-” I put my hand over my brow, in attempt to shield my eyes as I looked down. “Sorry.”

“Hey there” she said, seemingly amused by my flustered stammering. Her hair was short and dark, slicked back with wetness as it seemed she had just taken a shower. She had bright eyes, full lips, and small, perky tits that had metal bars through the nipples. She dropped her arm to her side and started undoing the towel that was wrapped around her narrow hips. “Mind taking this?” She gestured to the towel. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and ears. I nodded and snatched it as soon she held it out. I shuffled out of the room as quickly as I could without bumping into her.

“Thanks.” She said as she shook her hair out and walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. I threw the towel on top of the bag of dirty laundry and briskly walked back to the linen department.

Oh my god. That was so awkward! I mean. It seems one thing to be confident in your body. I shook my head to rid it of my embarrassment about seeing her mostly naked and continued with my day. I think it’s time for my lunch. I decided to go a little early. After lunch, I agreed to help Lillian on the clinic side. It was a good opportunity to learn another part of the hospital, she pointed out. She showed me where the two main closets were for linen and handed me a few gowns and a new set of bedding.

“Can you bring this to room 34?” She asked as she plucked away at the cart. I nodded and started that way.

“Excuse me.” A female voice said from behind me. I turned. “Could you bring a set to 28 too? If you have time.” It was her. Of course it was. Her hair had dried now and Fatih Escort fell into her eyes slightly which I noticed were a bright shade of green and accompanied by dark long eyelashes. She was dressed this time, in a long white doctor’s coat that read “Nichols”. She looked up from the chart she was holding to make eye contact. “Oh. It’s you.”

What’s that supposed to mean? She sounded slightly surprised but I couldn’t make out what else.

“Yeah.” I said curtly as I turned away. She grabbed my arm. Firmly, but not in a way that hurt. I stopped, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What? I spat the word in my head. We locked eyes; mine were wide and hers, narrowed. It was as if she was trying to read me. Her expression softened and she released my arm.

“Thank you” she said as she walked away. I stared after her for a moment. She’s weird. I brought the sheets into the room that she requested and went back for more for the room Lillian asked me to put bedding in. After we finished in the clinic, we headed back to our department. I continued working the basement rooms until it was time to go. I clocked out and changed back into my street clothes. I fixed my hair and put on makeup before leaving. Morgan had asked if I wanted to come hang out with some of his friends at his place tonight.

I walked into Morgan’s house without knocking, no point. I swear he never locked his door but, with 5 guys living in one house there was always bound to be someone home.

“Hey guys” I said as I walked in. One of the guys was playing Resident Evil on the couch. Morgan and his other housemate, Nick, were drinking at the dining room table. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and joined them. Nick grinned up at me, clearly already stoned out of his mind. Morgan slid a bowl over to my side.

“There should still be a hit in there for ya.”

“Sweet, thanks” I said as I snatched the lighter off the table.

Later that night we were all out on the patio smoking our cigarettes and drinking. I giggled as I listened to the guys bantering back and forth. I stood up and flicked my cigarette butt onto the ground.

“Alright, I’m turning in, kids” They all booed and awwed in complaint while they passed around more weed. I held up my hands in protest. “Mind if I crash?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit” Morgan said. I said my goodnights to the boys and walked to his room. I stripped down to my underwear and crawled into his bed. It wasn’t long before I was asleep.

“Hey, wake up.” Morgan shook my shoulder gently. I groaned in protest but rolled onto my back. I knew what he was after. He grinded on my hip for a bit while he groped my chest clumsily. I could smell the weed and booze on him. He must be pretty twisted. He got up and stumbled around the bedroom to grab a condom. He rolled it on and climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself in between my legs. He yanked down my underwear. He grabbed his dick and began rubbing it up and down my opening. With his other hand he leaned forward to squeeze my tit. He did so a little roughly, not unusual when he was fucked up like this. He pushed his cock against my hole. I wasn’t very wet so there was a little resistance at first. I winced as my cunt gave way to him, as he buried himself to the hilt. He crouched over me, grunting as he fucked me slowly but forcefully. The bed creaked with every thrust.

He stopped to lift my leg to the other side before he shoved the rest of my body onto my side/stomach. I sighed with annoyance. Fuck. He spread my ass cheeks and pressed his dick against my asshole. I hate anal, but he loves it. He generally didn’t try to get it unless he was… well, how he is right now. I did my best to relax, knowing it would be much less pleasant if I didn’t. He didn’t give me any time to adjust before he began ramming into my ass

“Fuck! Morgan, that hurts!” I said as I tried to sit up. He grabbed my arm with one hand and slammed my head down onto the pillow with the other, continuing to plow me. I winced and grunted in discomfort while he panted behind me. It seemed like an eternity had passed when I could feel him coming to the end. His whiskey dick had kept him from spending his load quickly and my ass felt raw. He shuddered as he came into the condom, still pushing my head down into the bed. After a few seconds of recovery, he rolled off me and slipped off the used condom. Within a few minutes, he was lightly snoring. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. I sniffled and mentally shook my head of emotions. Morgan wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t a good guy either. I sat up and slowly stood, wincing in pain. I don’t want to be here.

Chapter 3

The sunshine sneaked through the blinds and into my small, studio apartment. Stanley was lying next to me on the bed, in a particularly sunny patch. His tail flicked contently as I reached over to scratch his chin. His eyes opened narrowly Escort Fatih as he tilted his head to let me scratch him better. “Good morning, my handsome man.”

I rolled onto my back but instantly regretted it. Ouch. I sighed and forced myself out of bed. I relaxed a little as I ran the hottest water my shower could produce. My phone chirped as I got out of the bathroom, drying my hair.

Drinks downtown tonight?

It was from Nick. Of all Morgan’s friends, I enjoyed Nick the most. He was always down for a good time, but he was always the one to take care of everyone.

Working til 9. Be there after. 🙂

I ran a few errands before heading to work. I was a touch early so I hung around back to have a smoke before work.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know” a familiar voice said.

“Like I haven’t heard that one before” I scoffed as blew smoke to the side. I turned to face the female resident. She looked at me with a disapproving frown and stepped closer. I raised an eyebrow up at her, not realizing until now that she was a good 6 inches taller than me. She reached up and took my chin between her long fingers. Her emerald eyes glowering into mine and her full lips parted, ever so slightly. For a second, my instinct was to lean forward for a kiss. I blushed furiously at the thought.

“You’re too cute to have such a nasty habit,” She pushed my face away slightly. “Shame.” She turned without another word and walked into the building. I was left to finish my nasty habit alone.

…

A few drinks down and I had a nice buzz going. Morgan was at the bar while Nick and I danced. I was slightly winded when we bounced back to the bar. The bar tender slid me a shot of vodka. I didn’t order this? I picked it up questioningly. He pointed to his right, to the other side of the serving bar. Low and behold. There was the strange resident that I had talked to this morning. And seen naked my first day on the job. I gave a small smile and raised the glass in her direction before tossing it back. I watched her as she talked to a guy and girl couple that she was sitting with. She squeezed the females shoulder and she stood up, making her way towards me.

“Hi.” She spoke barely louder than the music, forcing me to lean in closer, “I never really introduced myself to you. My friends call me Jaye.”

“Shea.”, was all I said in response, as I leaned back on the bar.

“We rhyme” she smiled. “These your friends?” She gestured towards Nick and Morgan. I nodded and the two men introduced themselves.

“How do you know each other?” Nick asked. I blushed a little.

“Just from work. We don’t really know each other, just in passing.”

“Don’t be shy just because you saw my goodies” Jaye flashed a dazzling smile. She had perfect teeth and her eyes smiled just as much as her mouth. “I’m a resident at the hospital” she explained. Nick and her chatted while I ordered myself another drink. I listened to them idly, sipping on a vodka cranberry.

“I’m gonna head out for a smoke.” I said as I set down my drink. Morgan nodded.

When I came back Jaye had gone back to her friends and Nick was dancing with a cute blonde girl. I sat down by Morgan and finished my drink. It wasn’t long before I realized that I was very, very drunk. Morgan told me he called a cab and we went outside to wait for it. I fumbled with my pack of cigarettes and lighter. He eventually took it from me and lit it, passing it back to me. I grinned and brought it to my lips groggily. How was I this drunk? I really didn’t drink that much. Morgan had to hoist me into the cab. I flopped into the back seat.

“Uhhh is she good?” The driver asked.

“No. she’s not.” a voice that wasn’t Morgan’s replied sternly. I was too far gone to question it. Or the yelling that followed. It felt like barely a moment had passed when my shoulders were being lightly shaken.

“Up you get” a soft voice said. I grumbled in protest. I’m sleepinggggg. She scooped me up and halfway carried me into an apartment building. Everything was spinning. Oh no. She let go of my waist and lowered me back onto a bed. My bed? No, not my bed. Don’t puke. Was all I could think as I let my eyes close and allowed myself to be consumed by my stupor.

…

Pain. It was bright. Too bright. Did I leave my blinds open? My head hurts. My eyes hurt. My butt hurts, although not as bad as yesterday. I stretched my arms out but something was blocking the way of my right arm. My eyes shot open. That is definitely not Stanley.

I looked around the room. It was tidy and plain. The white walls were bare aside from the three bookshelves that were stocked with books of all shapes and sizes. The only other furniture in her room was a plush looking chair, a nightstand and the bed I was currently laying in.

I recognized the slim figure laying on her stomach next to me, once again, she was naked from the waist up. What is it with her and being topless? Jaye’s back rose and fell slowly, asleep. I touched her arm again, gently. So warm… and soft. She stirred slightly. I quickly pulled my hand away. She turned to face me, her eyes heavy with sleep.

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

“But you choose,” Bijou’s light growl was right next to her ear again, a barely perceptible breath moving the hair on her neck. “I want to hear what you want. I could drag you off right now, I could just undress you right here and slide up against you, or, I don’t know, just off the top of my head, I could go sit over there and just watch you take your clothes off, kinda slowly, like you would if you knew someone were watching you. Honestly, it would be really hot to see what it does to you, to make you wait a bit. But it’s up to you – tell me which one sounds,” she punctuated her last word with a distinct nibble, just a single light press of her teeth, on Sara’s ear, “…good.” Sara shuddered.

***

There was a long pause, while Sara gained her breath, and thought about what to say. It wasn’t helping that Bijou’s breath was warm and patient on her ear. Finally, she gulped, and whispered, very softly, “The last one.”

Bijou moved even closer, pressing her body up against Sara, and kissed her very carefully, in what was clearly complete adoration.

“Which one, precious? Which choice exactly? I think I know what you mean, but honestly, it would make me so crazy to hear you say it, straight out. Which one do you truly want right now, more than anything, you exceptional creature? You just say what you want, and watch it happen.”

“I….um…” said Sara, writhing back against Bijou. This was insane. It was already so over the top hot.

Bijou breathed in her ear again. “It would kinda send you, I think, to say it out loud, wouldn’t it? I think it would. So what do you truly want, angel? Tell me.” Bijou punctuated her words with a smooth, slow press of her hands against Sara’s form, up her waist, to her arms.

“I want… to undress… to undress myself, to have you watch me…” Sara breathed it, hardly daring to whisper, overwhelmed by perfection. Bijou’s hands had reached her wrists, and they wrapped, slowly and deliberately, those long thin fingers around her, holding her firmly. There was no arguing with that grip, only surrender, only losing control, giving in. Bijou, with suddenly stony power, held her wrists firmly just long enough to guide them behind her, as if she were bound. She moved Sara’s arms and took both wrists into one of her hands, quietly demonstrating what she liked, what she wanted. This is me, being in charge of you.

Sara was breathless, already crazy with hunger, but strangely calm. She knew herself well enough to know that this was where she liked to go, but this was also a dangerous place with which to trust people. She couldn’t afford to lose control with just anyone, and she was always so very close to losing control. What some people perceived as a cool reserve was the thin shell that covered her, kept her from surrendering to the wrong person, or in the wrong way. She was always so close to the edge, so constantly vulnerable to the right voice or the right set of touches. She had to keep her distance. But here, she knew somehow that she was in good hands. Not just good hands, but hands that adored her and respected her, hands that had the skill to take her where she truly wanted to go. Something told her that. Bijou was like her, a volcano, and she seemed to understand.

But she also knew that Bijou was intense, that she had edges, kinks, wild territory. She’d read Bijou’s stories. Bijou could go anywhere, and Sara was a bit intimidated by the impressions she’d had of Bijou’s wild streak. How much of her fiction was real?

She chose, at that moment, to trust. Completely. She felt safe, despite her unfamiliarity with this strange, sharp creature, because at the other end of her surrender was a knowledge, beyond doubt, that she was adored. Bijou’s eyes were undisguised, and the affection that beamed from them was unmistakable, bright as a floodlight.

“Undress for me,” breathed Bijou into her ear. “Nothing contrived. Just you, surrendering. While I watch.”

Sara felt suddenly plain, and completely raw. She didn’t have to decide anything; she couldn’t do anything but hear the voice and move toward it, pursuing her own hunger to its endpoint. She began to undress. At first, she closed her eyes. Bijou had moved away, she wasn’t sure where, but she did feel, suddenly, quite alone, and she let her mind move to those moments when, by herself, she had undressed, she had moved and danced and been seduced by her own images, her own thoughts.

She stripped her shirt over her head, glad to be rid of it. She found herself suddenly immensely impatient, bound by her clothes. Going slowly would have been contrived; if she’d truly been alone she’d have kicked off every stitch in moments, impatient to be rid of the constraint. And so she did – Bijou wanted her real, and dammit, she’d be real. It wouldn’t be a sexy dance, or something from a movie. It would be a finally free, solitary woman who’d been bound into clothes all day when she’d have preferred to be naked, or at least close. Her clothes felt like handcuffs, like a straightjacket, and she needed them off, instantly.

She Başakşehir Escort stopped thinking about the fact that she was undressing as a performance. She tore her clothes off as if they were soaked with poison, eager to get them away from her skin. She dropped them one by one on the floor where she stood, every bond she had. She kicked the skirt away and then unhooked (god, what ecstatic relief) the lacy bra that held her generous breasts like a vise. The latter she balled up and threw, with not a little rage, across the room.

When she got to the panties she stopped. They were hot, and she knew it. She’d always had a bit of a thing for sexy underwear, and knowing that Bijou had a major fetish for lingerie had raised her consciousness about it even further. This piece was one of her favorites. The thought arrived in her head, strangely sudden: Bijou would want me to leave these on.

Free now, her skin felt fresh and hungry, and she stretched, ran her hands up her sides to cup her breasts, and she kneaded her shoulders where the tension always sat, dragging her hands along the muscles, breathing deep. Free. And I know what Bijou is seeing right now, and I think I might even know how she feels about it. I think I might already know…

She opened her eyes, finally, and looked across the room, where Bijou had coiled herself back on the couch, her legs folded under her. She held a glass of wine, which was deep red against the background of her skin. Her face was blissful, amazed and amused all at once.

“O my god you are so fucking beautiful,” she said in a measured, peaceful tone, her eyes never leaving Sara’s form. “You just make me speechless. Jesus Christ you’re hot. You’re like, better than Christmas.”

She uncoiled then, and stood up, moving toward where Sara stood, frozen. “And that was easily the finest striptease I’ve ever seen. It was real. And leaving these on,” her hand now reached for the french-cut bikini Sara had worn, knowing it showcased her ass perfectly, not knowing why that was going to be important on this particular night, “leaving this on, which looks stunning, by the way, was a very nice touch.”

“I thought you’d like it,” breathed Sara, and found that what she said was true; that honestly, she had considered this entire scene quite early in the day, and though part of her had denied the possibility, another part had known, and had made plans.

“Oh, the word like doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about that,” said Bijou, her hands running firmly all over Sara’s form. There had been no preamble; she’d just walked over and begun to pet every inch of Sara’s skin, watching her own hands as they traced the curves of Sara’s body, up and down. As if she owned the place, thought Sara, and smiled inadvertently at the phrase.

“I take it you like what you see,” said Sara, feeling sassy. “Or are you just studying Braille these days?” Bijou laughed, and gripped her a little harder. “Gods, you’re a smartass. I love that about you. Alright, Ms. Mindreader, yes. I am a little overwhelmed at this moment. You have, and this may sound blunt and unromantic, but that’s how I am, so that’s how it comes out, one of the finest pairs of tits I’ve seen in a damn long time. God, those are spectacular.” Bijou’s own breasts were rather small, nicely rounded handfuls that fit with her rangy frame. Sara envied the fact that Bijou never had to wear a bra, but she knew that her own breasts were, in fact, the kind that everyone seemed to love. It was almost worth the trouble to have that automatic appeal.

Bijou continued, although her eyes – and for that matter her hands – were still fastened on Sara’s cleavage, “I mean, the rest of it is unbelievable as well, which doesn’t surprise me. But you’ll pardon me if I focus on one thing at a time. Or two, as the case may be.”

“I could get you something for the drool on your chin, if you like,” retorted Sara, who was amazed at how sharply her mind was still working, given the fact that she was riding an insanely high edge of arousal, stoked by the fact that Bijou was now running her thumbs, and occasionally her tongue, over her nipples and up to the edges of her collarbone. It was hysterical, and yet even within the fog she felt her smartass inner voice, usually a hindrance in these situations, awake and amused. Whatever she felt like saying, it would be alright. It would be correct. There was no playacting necessary.

Bijou snorted. “Nice. You may have to. I’m pretty entranced right now. If I’ve gotten all stupid you have only yourself and this spectacular body to blame. You’re just what I’ve always wanted. I must write to Santa tomorrow and thank him.” She continued to mostly just stare at Sara’s various body parts, running her hands up and down, gripping here, stroking there. Sara was nearly insane with the touch.

“So were you going to fuck me or just stand here and admire the paint job all night?” she said, and then couldn’t believe it had actually fallen out of her mouth. She’d intended to lean a bit toward the submissive Başakşehir Escort Bayan and respectful, knowing that it was a conventional dynamic with someone as toppy as Bijou. But Bijou cracked up, and as she moved in toward Sara she widened her stance so that she stood lower, and suddenly they were face to face.

Bijou slid both hands down to Sara’s ass, cupping it lovingly. “Keep being a saucy bitch like that and see where it gets you,” she said, “because I really like it when you mouth off. It’s the first thing I ever loved about you.”

“But,” she continued, suddenly standing back and grabbing Sara’s hand, “Don’t think I can’t still think straight, just barely, even with the onslaught of that immense hotness.” She began walking toward the hallway, clearly heading for the bedroom and dragging Sara by the hand as if she were leading a fellow nine-year-old toward the Double Secret Treehouse. “Cause I’ve had some really cool ideas about you and I’ll tell you all about them while I’m fucking your brains out, ‘kay? C’mon.”

Sara, her mind blown and a wide amazed grin emerging on her face, allowed herself to be led down the hall.

***

In the bedroom there was no preamble. The opera had faded in the next room and Bijou punched a button on the stereo in the bedroom. It was one of her mixes, with everything from Led Zeppelin to the Cure and Juno Reactor, all energetic and mostly instrumental. Then she turned immediately to Sara, and without warning shoved her backwards onto the bed. Sara fell, and then relaxed and laid back, giggling. Bijou’s expression was terrifyingly mischievous. She moved toward the bed and knelt between Sara’s spread legs, looking down. Without any warning, she grabbed the panties Sara still wore and yanked them down and off. “These are lovely. They are stellar. I may build a cathedral to them later. But they must go now,” she said, and threw them over her shoulder before she sat back, looking Sara up and down.

“What does it like? How does it work, exactly? How do I wind it up and make it go?” she murmured, pretending that she was merely talking to herself. “And how on earth am I going to wrap it?” Sara didn’t understand the last question, or perhaps she’d misheard, but it was too late to think about it anymore because Bijou had bent down and curled her forearms suddenly under Sara’s thighs, lifting them up off the bed and spreading her open. Suddenly her thighs were clamped firmly in Bijou’s grasp, and Bijou bent down and ran her tongue, with no warning, round Sara’s clit, once, twice, and then stabbed deep against it, making Sara writhe. Being touched suddenly, without any preparation, made her realize that she was already just inches away from coming. It was agonizing, and then just as suddenly Bijou pulled away and watched Sara rise and fall, almost spasming in surprise at the quickness of the move.

“It is all I can do, just everything I can do right now,” she murmured, releasing Sara’s legs and laying them down gently onto the bed, “not to simply lean over you and devour you and take you straight over the edge, and myself as well. But you deserve my best attempt at self-control. And I did say I had some ideas. That is, if you like them.” Sara lay, completely relaxed, feeling like a treasured pet, like a jewel being admired. Or, judging from Bijou’s edgy grin, a meal about to be consumed.

“Your pussy looks incredibly sweet, and I really want to see more of it,” she purred. “But if I touch you right now I may not keep my promise to myself, that I was going to take my sweet time and torture you like I’ve always wanted to. So how ’bout this idea,” and her voice sounded completely sweet and reasonable even as her words lit little fires all over Sara, “How about you do it. Run your hands down, and stroke that lovely rose open, and show me a little more. Let me see your fingers, moving, and open that flower all up so I can learn all about you. What do you think, would you go there if I asked you to?”

But Sara was already doing it, hypnotized by the straightforward voice. Her hands roamed down her belly, rounded her hips, crept toward the center, and her mind strained and snapped as she found herself doing exactly that, shameless, drawing the lips of her pussy apart with her fingertips, letting one finger play around the divisions, flicker across her clitoris, making the pearl rise and harden.

“You wouldn’t come, would you?” Bijou’s voice hummed suddenly close to her ear. “Not without, like, letting me know before hand so I could stop you if I wanted to, right? Cause that’s another of the ideas I had, and I wanted to run it by you, see what you think. No don’t stop. Here, let me echo that. Let me learn that move,” and she traced one of her own fingertips down Sara’s torso to press in against her clitoris, stroking the little pearl round and round, then stopping suddenly when Sara’s hips began to rise.

“Oh you are stellar, and juicy, and I want to put my mouth on you right now, right right now,” said Bijou, “But I’m really concerned that I’d make you Escort Başakşehir come if I did that at the moment, and I really want to see exactly what it does to you to make you wait. And wait.” Sara moaned, writhing against her own hand. Bijou took her hand away then, and Sara whimpered in genuine hunger as her fingers were brought up to her own lips. They were moist and honey-scented, that familiar perfume.

Then she felt Bijou’s hand slide down her hip, find the valley of her thigh, and move inexorably in, until there were fingertips sliding delicately between her lips and into her, so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, except that with every millimeter she was invaded, shocks ran through her entire body, subtle and white-hot.

“Completely relaxed,” breathed Bijou into her ear. “Just breathing, just relaxing, just letting go, while I tell you my idea. Oh. Oh my god that’s sweet,” she added, almost plaintive, as her fingers slid smoothly in, deep and delicate, and explored, almost without motion, deep along the inner ridges of Sara’s cunt, pressing the flesh inside, feeling the muscles flutter.

“I want to make you come so bad right now I can’t even remember my own name,” she growled softly. “More than anything, at the moment, I want that. But I have this idea, and I don’t want to bias you,” she moved her fingers, just a flutter against the soft upper wall of Sara’s slick pussy, “by getting you into an altered state or anything. It wouldn’t be fair.” Bijou’s soft voice stayed steady and hypnotic, overpowering Sara with words alone, with the steady purr in her ear. Sara was so close to the edge her thighs trembled, and she moaned.

“I’m thinking about offering you to Will as a sort of present. Like, all tied up in a bow,” said Bijou, punctuated her sentences with more little flutters of her fingertips, pressing in, rocking her hand gently against the juicy gate, and pressing her teeth, gently but distinctly, round Sara’s nipples. “I really think that might be easily the nicest present I’ve ever given him.” At the sound of Will’s name, and the memory that he had been the starting point of all of this, Sara gasped. She had wanted him for so long. For a moment the thickness inside her, now three of Bijou’s long fingers beginning to slide slowly in and out, became his cock, thrusting in, and the idea alone made her entire body shudder.

Bijou recognized the response. “Oh yes,” she purred, grinning, “we mustn’t lose track of the fact that at some point, he’s going to show up here. I certainly haven’t forgotten that. And I’m thinking it’s going to be relatively soon.”

She began sliding her fingers deep, rhythmically in and out of Sara, fucking her, distinctly and firmly now, but watching carefully to make sure she didn’t get too close. “Relaxing, precious. Just relaxing and breathing. Letting it roll over you. Oh those are lovely noises,” and they were; Sara was keening now, moaning with every breath, hypnotized by the sensation of being split up the center by the insistent, maddening rhythm. Fingers. Cock. Whose. Everyone’s. Just fuck, just fuck me. Forever. Just fuck me forever.

But suddenly it stopped, the fingers slid slowly out of her, and her whole body went wild, shuddering. She heard herself growl, genuinely frustrated. The ideas rolling randomly in her head crashed together and broke like waves. Her completely feral need to come. The hypnosis in Bijou’s voice, and how much she wanted roll over and slam everything she had into this maddening woman, and the sheer, soul-deep panic, off in the distance, of the idea of Will’s arrival. It was too late for any control over the situation, and she surrendered, finding herself suddenly, surprisingly, amused. She was in it, and there was no turning back, and this was what she’d wanted all along anyway. Will. And bijou, this maddening, hypnotic catalyst, taking her over, every inch of her.

***

Bijou realized that she had had Sara on the edge for ages, and while she truly wanted to offer this armful of roses to Will in the heightened state it was in, she also knew that making a delicately wired creature like this stay on the edge too long would be cruel, and counterproductive. Sara was truly desperate now, whimpering plaintively, her pussy undoubtedly throbbing and hungry beyond rational thought. She needed to be spread.

Spreading was something she’d tried before, but she wondered if it would work on someone as close to orgasm as this, and on Sara, given how much of a hair trigger she had. But it was worth a try.

“Come down, baby,” Bijou crooned, almost maternal. “Come back down a bit, and breathe. Think about the top of your head. Think about your heart.” She began the acupressure, the smoothing of her hand upward over Sara’s torso, spreading the heat down along her legs to her feet, firmly so that her touch was more healing than sexual. Then up, up the center of her torso, up to her scalp, which bijou massaged gently, releasing the snakes that had gathered and coiled there. It seemed to be working. Sara sighed and seemed to relax. The tension went out of her hips and her hands released the bedspread, which they had been clutching tightly. Bijou knew she was feeling the arousal more generally now, all over her body, and that the congestion of both blood and energy that had centered around her hips and pussy was spreading through her body.

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“Deeper.”

“Ummph, Oomph. Like that?”

“Deeper. Please, deeper.”

“Well, fine. A little KY, my dear, and now. Ummph, how’s that?”

“Oh, fucking shit!”

“Oomph, oomph, ummph.”

“Piss-damn, Mother Fucker. Oh, that’s so good. Is that all eleven inches?”

“Yes.”

“I am so glad I bought that cock for the strap-on. Keep pushing in me. Oh, fuck, that feels so, so good.”

I happen to like using this eleven-inch silicone flexible cock on you much more than the old seven-inch one. The heat of your orgasm is evident to anyone within hearing distance. The vulgar words streamed together in unique and deplorable order, causes involuntary arousal of all adults over 18 years old.

As I was pushing and withdrawing from the soaked and slimy, yet clean and hairy, swollen barriers to your sex, the motion of your hips became almost frantic and urgent. As usual, I purposely did not keep the same rhythm. Your rising frustration to achieve another orgasm mounted at a steady pace.

We had done this ‘ride’ before in our cycle of sexual games and play. Each time we did, of course, the nasty and slutty behavior became more and more dangerous, vulgar, dirty, and filthy.

What has turned into ‘We,’ had begun Tüyap Escort one time when on dates, each with someone else. A cocktail table shared as strangers, in a smoky dark bar, my hand on you and yours on me. It turned out that we both split up with those two partners within a couple of months.

When living in a big city, there is certain anonymity due to the sheer numbers of human encounters as you move about the streets. However, there is also a close-knit neighborhood in nearly every way for each person. They frequent the same series of businesses, clubs, and stores, etc. So that we saw each other again among four million people wasn’t actually that surprising. What still is surprising to me is that when we again met, you were sitting at the same table in the same position. I had been in this bar four times before our meeting, and never again until we met again. It was as though you had never left.

Wearing the same clothes, you were alone with a half-full glass. I smiled, and after greetings were exchanged, we agreed to me joining you. We visited until the music started when we were drowned out and stepped outside.

Once outside, we both were awkwardly mumbling about what to do next when I heard you say, “Come Tüyap Escort Bayan to my house and come.”

I replied, “Is it far? I live very close.”

“About a block-and-a-half north.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

And off we went talking like old friends. We walked three blocks north and four blocks east. My apartment was in the same building you entered to ride the elevator to the twelfth floor. My apartment is on the twelfth floor. I am frantically playing back our conversation because I didn’t think I told you where I live. I was distracted with that thought when you said, “I moved here about four weeks ago and immediately left town. I am returning tonight for only the second night. The building doesn’t yet seem like home, but it definitely has what it will take. Come, my apartment is right over here.”

As we walked past my door, I had the feeling I was being tested, but not by you. I imagine it feels like that to have someone study you intently for your entire day, writing notes and dictating in a muffled voice to a small recorder. The hallway went to the far end of the floor, made a second turn, and ended at an apartment door.

We became fucking friends within fifteen minutes, and here we are forty Escort Tüyap years later, again doing what we did all those years ago. We eventually had a night that found our limits. You were blindfolded, and I was to bring a total stranger to the apartment to take my place. The stranger, as it turned out, was as kinky as our lust.

He had, in turn, convinced me to be blindfolded, also. As soon as I was blindfolded, the stranger tied me up and tied you up, then he burgled the apartment. The stranger took our money, ransacked the apartment, and then put on a mask that covered his head and shoulders and looked like a rubber Frankenstein head and upper body.

Frankenstein forced each of us to kiss each other, and eventually, he had us do a sixty-nine. Then he watched the two of us take a shower while he jerked off in the bathroom sink. When he came, he shouted, “Oh, Hilly!”

Immediately he left while we were standing in the shower looking through the glass shower door. He forgot the loot, and money, as the apartment door locked when it closed behind him.

Epilogue:

We are happy to be safe. We decided to stop taking chances. Now we again fuck like before. We had such fun for all of those years.

I am old and no longer even visible to the young people on the streets. They slide in and out of the multitude, and I have to weave defensively on the sidewalks. As I do with the technology, that is assimilated into their lives without caution.

“Hilly” is still a mystery today.

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Now that Desiree and I were a couple, we spent the rest of the winter together. Usually, it was at one of our houses, or occasionally at a friend’s. This led to a lot of fun, but a lot of frustration as we almost never found ourselves alone with any kind of privacy. However, like teenagers everywhere, we found ways.

At school, we would climb the ladders behind the auditorium stage. There was a little room there for lights, ventilation, and theater controls, and we made the most of it. I have endless memories of lying on my back on the dusty floor while Desiree hiked her long cotton-print skirt up and rode me languorously. She loved to control the pace, and I was happy to lie back and caress her hips and breasts while she rocked her way to bliss. It was hard to go back to class afterward, but every second we spent up there was worth it!

There were also two cars involved, but Des had a tiny Honda Civic that wasn’t much good for anything except road head and discreet fingering. When we went in my car-a roomier Volvo wagon-we often ended up parked up a logging road, stretching out in the back on an old sleeping bag. For some reason, my lasting memories of those encounters are all in the missionary position, my weight resting on Desiree’s broad hips, my chest cushioned on her ample breasts, and my face against the side of her neck, surrounded by soft brown hair. Her arms and legs would wrap around me almost tenderly, and I can still recall the warm spread of her skin against mine as our bodies came together fully. With gentle thrusts and counter-thrusts, we would rock lazily in the steamed-up little world until we were spent. Then we would roll onto our sides and enjoy what she called “the afterglow”.

Every now and then, we enjoyed the supreme luxury of a house when one set of parents or another went to church, or to a meeting, or out shopping. We tried very hard not to make it obvious that we were hooking up, but I think both sets of parents knew and gave us as much space as they reasonably could. Her parents didn’t mind if we used their hot tub, and they were gracious enough not to look outside while we were there. If they had, they might have seen their daughter perched on the edge while my tongue explored her sweet, spicy depths. A while later, they would have seen their only daughter kneeling on the submerged seat, her ass barely out of the water, while I stood behind her, snowflakes falling on my shoulders as I pumped myself deep inside her. Needless to say, we were as quiet as possible on those occasions.

Finally, the endless snow began to melt. Desiree, with her Earth mother attitude, turned out to have a huge fetish for having sex outdoors, and she had grown up in the town and knew every isolated place. As soon as it was over 40 degrees, she had no problem whipping off her shirt or at the very least hoisting her skirt up to allow me access. Guys have it easy, I realize, and on the colder days I have to admit all Bahçelievler Escort I did was unzip!

Spot Number One: an abandoned shack just below a small dam. Dusty, cracked window panes and a door hanging off its hinges. Inside, an ancient wood stove, a creaky cot with a thin mattress, and the detritus of a hundred teen couples passing through-beer cans and condom wrappers, snack food bags and cigarette butts. It smelled permanently damp in the spring, but it offered unparalleled privacy and shelter from the wind.

The first time Des parked her car at the edge of a twisty back road, I thought we were headed into the woods as usual. She slung her backpack over one shoulder and slipped between two mountain laurel bushes without a word. I followed, and saw to my surprise a real path twisting through the shrubs and trees. After a hundred yards, I could hear the river. Another fifty yards and the structure came into view. Des pulled the door open and propped it carefully as if it were her own summer house. Then her preparations became obvious!

From the backpack, she pulled a rolled up afghan and covered the cot. A bottle of water and a bottle of Wild Turkey (her favorite) were placed on the rickety table. Finally, she extracted a carved wooden stash box and a matching bowl. With a smile, she packed it full and we shared it peacefully while she told me the history of the place.

Sitting cross-legged on one end of the cot to keep it from sagging, she said this had been the foreman’s office when the dam was built during the Depression. Since then, different people used it for different things, but it was always available, and most people tried to keep it somewhat clean. She went on to say that her old boyfriend Chris heard about it from his older cousin and they used to come down when it was warmer to swim and get high.

“It’s a little cold for swimming still,” she said sadly, “but I totally want to put my feet in the water!”

I was toasted enough to play along, and I kicked off my sneakers and socks and rolled my jeans up over my calf muscles. Des led me along the path to the water through a grove of birch saplings just starting to bud. She carried the Wild Turkey and I brought the water bottle. At the bank’s edge, we sat on tree roots and eased our feet into the water. It was bitingly cold-of course-but my feet soon went numb, and we alternated sips of whiskey and water, enjoying the sunlight and the gentle buzz and the quiet chuckling of the river over smooth stones.

As she lay back on her elbows, Desiree’s full breasts were pushed forward. My eyes traced the lush contours with growing hunger. She caught me looking and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Wanna see ’em?” she asked indulgently.

“Always!” I assured her.

She pushed her jacket back behind her, then lay back on it and teasingly raised the hem of her wide-necked T-shirt an inch at a time. Bahçelievler Escort Bayan As soon as it went above the waistband of her skirt, I leaned across and kissed the soft skin of her belly. I followed the hem upward until she paused just below her breasts, kissing every exposed inch. She drew it snug against herself, pulling her breasts up for a moment. When she lifted her hands, those pale, lovely globes came proudly into view, nipples already crinkling in the cold air.

I reached across her body and cupped the underside of her breast, savoring its heft while my thumb grazed back and forth across her nipple. The one closer to me got my full attention, though, as I sucked her whole areola into my mouth, then let it go and focused on her nipple, sucking hard, letting it snap back into the air, and then leaning down to bite it gently with my front teeth. She moaned happily and ran her fingers through my hair.

“Do the other side!” she urged, and I quickly moved enough to comply. As I settled into my work, I felt her hands move away from my head. Her right hand went down to my crotch and started stroking my cock as it lay stiffening along my thigh, trapped by thick denim. Her left hand, though, disappeared under the waistband of her skirt. As I sucked hard on her nipple, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes against the bright sunlight, and hummed. I knew that was her happy sound, and I knew it meant that her fingers were doing their best to stimulate her pussy while I worked on her magnificent breasts.

One great thing about Desiree-she was always quick to orgasm. The combined feelings of her fingers on her clit and my tongue and teeth on her nipples was pushing her quickly toward an explosion. She pulled her feet out of the water and braced them just below her ass, then began to thrust her hips upward every few seconds. I kept doing what I was doing, knowing she’d be horny as hell once she got off. The tell-tale motion of her hips was followed quickly by deep, raspoing breaths and trembling in her core. I watched her face as it changed from concentration to approaching bliss-her back arching and a stream of whispered “yess…yess…yess…” escaping her lips.

Her orgasm hit all at once, and her body jerked upward halfway. She grabbed me and held me tightly while she shuddered, and I could feel each wave of pleasure coursing through her body. As it subsided, I kissed her face and whispered endearments. Slowly, her body eased back until she was lying flat on her jacket again, panting contentedly.

“God, that was so good!” she exclaimed.

I kissed her in response, not really able to take credit since she had done most of the work.

“Seems like you really needed that,” I said to her.

“It’s just being outside again…it always makes me so happy and so horny!”

“I know-that’s what I love about you!”

“Love?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You Escort Bahçelievler heard me. I love you. And…I love how horny you get!”

I leaned over again to kiss after that, and for a long, peaceful moment we lay there in the sun lost in that all-encompassing high school kind of love.

Fortunately for me, Des was also creatively helpful when she knew that I was horny as well. When I broke the kiss to toy with her nipples again, inspiration struck. She pushed her breasts together and smiled at me invitingly.

“Since you were so nice to them, they want to say “thank you”,” she said. “Why don’t you come up here and show me how much you love them, too?”

Now that was an invitation worth stripping down for! I kicked off my jeans and straddled her waist, then moved myself forward until my cock lay in the ample valley of her cleavage. Des reached under my leg and rubbed her pussy, gathering its lubrication and then spreading it all over my shaft as it poked out of my boxers. That was enough to get me started, and I began sliding the sensitive underside along her silky skin.

“Move up a little,” she urged me, matching her words with a tug on my ass.

I did what she asked, and at the top of my next stroke, she sucked the head of my cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue all around it and bathing it with her saliva for a few seconds. Then she directed me back to her cleavage and reached up to push her breasts more tightly together.

“Fuck my tits now…I want you to cum just like this and let me taste it!”

How could I refuse? Turned on by her erotic display a few minutes ago, and equally aroused by the sight and sensation of her firm globes enveloping me, I knew it wouldn’t take long. I braced my hands up beside her head and stroked full length, leaking enough precum now to make the channel I was enjoying even slicker. Every few pumps, Des would bow her head forward and swipe her tongue along my crown as it emerged.

When I felt the cum rising inside me, I buried myself between her luscious tits and fucked them with short, frantic strokes. Des wrapped her breasts even tighter and murmured encouragement as I drove myself toward my reward.

“Yess…yes…do it…fuck my tits…fuck them…cum for me…cum for me!”

Gentleman that I am, I did as she asked. The first spurt leapt from my cock and hit her on the chin. Her hands flew to my ass and pulled me closer, and she wrapped her lips around my cock once again, sucking hard with every pulsation, swallowing every drop as it emerged. When I had no more to give, her suction eased and she swirled her tongue around and around the head, almost purring with satisfaction. She kept it up until my cock began to soften in her mouth.

Conscious of myself towering over her all of a sudden, I rolled back on my side, leaning on one elbow to catch my breath. Des reached to the other side and grabbed the bottle. With a smile, she took a sip of Wild Turkey and held it for a moment, looking right into my eyes. Then she swallowed it down, smiled contentedly, and passed the bottle to me.

“Ahh…best chaser in the world!” she said happily.

“You’re a nut…and I love you!” I said, taking a sip of my own.

“I love you, too” she replied.

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December 3

Its the Tuesday after Thanksgiving and things have been quiet at work. My caseload is pretty light and I decided to take myself to lunch today. The only thing I had to do this afternoon was meet a new client at the office at 2:00. I went down to Franks and grabbed a small booth and waited for the waitress. The place was half empty and I didn’t think lunch would take too long and I was looking forward to doing a little shopping on my way back to the office if I had time. I looked up and noticed a woman at the bar; she was looking at me and then she looked away. She was quite pretty and I found myself staring back at her long after she’d turned away.

The waitress came over and I ordered my usual; a sesame chicken salad and tall iced tea. She left and I could see the woman at the bar busily stirring her drink as if she were waiting for someone who was very late.. She had long, straight blonde hair down past her shoulder blades and a wonderfully heart-shaped butt. She was wearing a thin, chocolate brown dress that was pulled taught from sitting on the stool and I thought that was an odd choice for winter wear. That was about all I could see from where I was since she mostly had her back to me. She was quite petite, probably not much more than five feet tall, and I remembered her eyes being dark. She must have felt me staring at her because she turned and looked at me again. I was a little embarrassed but managed a smile and then looked at the waitress who was just arriving with my drink.

I thanked her and grabbed the sugar and began pouring it in; one…two…three spoonfuls and then grabbed a spoon and started stirring. I wondered if it was safe to look up yet. I stirred for a moment longer and then glanced up; she was still looking my way. This time she smiled at me but did not turn away. Even from this distance, I could see that she had beautiful brown eyes and her eyebrows were long, thin and very graceful; they framed her eyes very elegantly. I guessed she was in her early thirties. Realizing I was staring, I forced myself to look down at my glass. I could feel the flush rising to my cheeks and I hoped she couldn’t see that I was blushing. I kept stirring my drink and hoped the waitress would come with my salad soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waitress returned with my salad and another iced tea. She put the salad on the table and then handed me the glass. I must have given her a funny look because all she said was, “Complements of the lady at the bar.”

I looked up and she was smiling at me. She gave me a brief wave with one hand and then raised her glass in a mock toast with the other. I smiled back and mouthed “Thank you” to her. She turned back toward the bar and continued her silent wait.

I was very self-conscious as I ate and found myself looking up every few bites to watch the mysterious and beautiful blonde. She only stayed for a few more minutes and then reached over and grabbed a heavy overcoat from the stool next to her. As she stood to put it on, I got my first good look at her. She was probably 5’4” in her heels and as she turned in profile to me I could see that she was perfectly proportioned. From the curve of her full breasts I guessed she was a 34C. She turned toward me as she reached back with both hands to pull her hair from beneath her coat and I got an even better look as they rose and fell with the movement of her arms. But it was the serene elegance of her face that held me. She met my gaze and winked at me with a smile. I smiled back and then she brought her lips together in a pouting kiss and waved as she turned and left the restaurant.

I looked up and saw the waitress approaching and I blushed again; she’d seen the whole thing. Since I go to Franks on a regular basis I wasn’t about to make a big deal out of it.

“Got a new member of the Tiana fan club?” the waitress said sarcastically.

I laughed and told her that it was just a big tease and meant nothing. I told her I’d never seen her before and would probably never see her again after today. The waitress snickered and left and I tried to push the image of the mystery woman flipping her hair back from my mind but in all honesty I spent the rest of my lunch thinking about her… her ruby lips, her almond shaped eyes…and her perfect breasts.

I should tell you now that, while I’ve always admired beautiful women, Bayrampaşa Escort my admiration for women has always ended there – with admiring them. I’ve never been with a woman and though I’ve fantasized about it on many occasions I’ve never really considered it. So the fact that this woman was occupying such a large part of my thoughts surprised me. Her voice, I imagined, was deeper than one would expect and maybe a bit on the breathy side; her long fingers very deliberate and precise in their movements and her full, ruby lips I imagined were firm but gentle. I imagined the feel of the back of her index finger brushing along my cheek, the touch of her fingertip running gently down my thigh, the warmth of her breath against my neck…

I looked up as the haze of my daydream wafted away and noticed that the restaurant was almost empty. The waitress was approaching again and I looked down at my watch and saw that it was 1:30! I’d spent nearly an hour eating a salad that would normally take ten minutes!

“Do you want to take it with you or just pick at it some more!” the waitress asked with a sarcastic smile and I told her no and asked for the check. When she returned I handed her enough for the meal and the tip and grabbed up my things and headed back to the office.

The brisk walk in the cold December air helped clear my head; I had to find my game face before I met with this new client. This was the hardest part of my job for me; I had no problem preparing a case and I enjoyed the tension and anxiety of being in court but the initial interview with the client made me very uncomfortable because I always felt like I was the one on trial. First impressions being what they are, I had only a few minutes to impress and inspire confidence and secure their business. By the time I’d reached the plaza outside my building though, I was feeling better about things.

When I reached my office, I asked my secretary for the profile on this client so that I could get ready. She handed it to me and I walked in and closed my office door. I hung up my coat and tossed my purse under my desk as I scanned through the information in the folder. It seemed to be a simple case of trademark violation and should be pretty straightforward. I began to read through the folder more thoroughly to familiarize myself with the details but was interrupted by the familiar double ring of the intercom. I heard my secretary’s voice telling me my 2:00 was here and I told her to show them in. I heard the door open and, still reading the file, I rose to introduce myself. When I looked up, my heart stopped – it was the beautiful blonde in the chocolate brown dress!

My secretary introduced her as Laura Michaels. She walked toward me and I forced myself into motion around my desk and offered my hand. I was a little shaken and more than a little embarrassed as I introduced myself to her but she took my hand and smiled; her grasp was firm but gentle and her smile was immediately warming. I offered her a chair in front of my desk but she chose to sit on the couch next to the window instead. We began to discuss her case and I could feel her staring intently at me as I looked between her and the file. I found myself walking around and leaning casually against the desk as I spoke. I clutched the folder nervously in my hand and found having it a convenient way to avoid her gaze as I spoke.

“Alright, Miss Michaels,” Tiana began but was quickly interrupted.

“Please, call me Ellie… ‘Miss Michaels’ makes me sound like a teacher, or a librarian and I really don’t have the patience for either.”

“Ok, Ellie,” she continued, “I’ve looked through all the material your firm provided us with…” Tiana stopped short; she could feel the intense stare and she wavered. She looked up at her prospective client and smiled nervously and continued. “…and I’m not sure why you’re here.”

“I watched you at lunch.” Ellie said very matter-of-factly. “You seem like a strong, intelligent woman though I think your self-confidence may be lagging a step behind.”

Tiana was caught offguard by this and she was also a little annoyed. She turned and set the folder she’d been nervously clutching down on the desk. With both hands, she scooted herself up onto the desktop and crossed her ankles letting her legs swing slightly as she rested on the heels of her hands.

“How Bayrampaşa Escort Bayan do you figure?” she replied with a slightly challenging tone.

“That’s better,” Ellie said with a playful smile as she rose and looked out the window at the skyline. “Well, for starters, the tone of your voice and your posture are a dead giveaway.” She turned and leaned on the mahogany window sill facing Tiana and continued. “I make you nervous OR I intimidate you – either way you are uncomfortable and that has shaken your confidence.”

“Ok, and what has that to do with why you’re here?” Tiana fired back quickly.

“It doesn’t. I’m merely making an observation – your confidence is not quite in step with the rest of you. And as someone who is looking for legal representation, confidence is important to me.”

Tiana knew she was being challenged but she wasn’t sure if she was reading too much into things. As the woman said, confidence is important when choosing counsel. But she couldn’t help feeling that there was a dual meaning here and so she decided to pick a careful path through this encounter.

“I apologize, Ellie, I don’t mean to come across as confrontational. To be honest with you, I am always a bit uncomfortable during the interview; I always feel like I’m on the hot seat.”

“Now there’s a picture!” Ellie chuckled. “But what about lunch? There was no interview, there was no client and still you were nervous… Or were you just unsure?” Ellie’s voice was calm and measured, almost soothing, and Tiana found it very disarming. She had imagined that voice would be deeper but it did have that breathy quality and Tiana was finding it very reassuring..

“Well, unsure? Yes, I guess you could say that.” Tiana answered tentatively.

“And now? Are you unsure now?”

Tiana felt a shiver run down her spine. Was this woman hitting on her? She still couldn’t tell for sure. “Yes, I suppose I am.” she answered honestly.

“Why is that?” Ellie asked almost seductively ending her question with a smile.

“Look, Ellie,” Tiana said uncomfortably, “I’m having a hard enough time with this as it is…”

Ellie pushed off the window sill and walked slowly toward the desk. Her calculated movements emphasized the curve of her hips and the line of her legs.

“With what? That you find me attractive?” Tiana looked up at her as she approached.

“Or that you find another woman attractive?”

Ellie stopped just in front of her and held her gaze firmly. Tiana looked down and Ellie gently raised her chin up with her index finger until Tiana could look nowhere else. Tiana swallowed and took a breath.

“Well, both actually…” but before she could finish her thought Ellie leaned in close and delicately kissed her lips.

It was electric; she could feel the current start at her lips and course throughout her entire body as Ellie’s lips grazed her own. Once…twice…and a third time. Tiana closed her eyes and sighed. She was surprised. Not so much by the encounter but that she wasn’t shocked or startled by it. Softly, Tiana returned the kisses until they grew more passionate. She could feel Ellie’s tongue on her lips and she opened her mouth to receive it, her own tongue eager to respond. Delicately they tasted one another, softly touching and exploring the other with their tongues. Ellie teased her with her tongue and her lips and then pulled back.

“Are you still unsure?” she asked with a whisper.

“No,” Tiana responded leaning forward to kiss her again, “Just a little nervous.”

“Take a deep breath and relax.” Ellie told her as she turned and walked toward the door. “Sometimes ‘nervous’ makes it better…” She reached the door and looked back at Tiana as she pushed the lock button in. “I think its best that we are not disturbed for awhile.”

Ellie began the slow walk back toward the desk; Tiana sat with her ankles still crossed but had moved her hands behind her. She leaned back now; a move calculated to emphasize her full breasts. Tiana was wearing a cream colored cashmere sweater with short sleeves and a scoop neck and it clung to her every curve. Ellie noticed the posturing almost immediately and commented.

“I like it. I like them… very nice.” she said coyly.

Tiana just watched her approach; her nerves were starting to get the best of her now.

“Do you Escort Bayrampaşa like champagne?” Ellie asked her

“Sometimes… I’ve never really developed a taste for it I guess.” she answered, not sure where this was going.

“Strawberries?”

“Mmmm… Yes, I love strawberries!”

“Strawberries dipped in warm, rich chocolate?”

“Only if you have someone there to lick the chocolate off your fingers…” Tiana replied playfully, testing the waters a bit.

“Or spread it around…” Ellie added as she neared the desk.

“Mmmm… and lick it off…” Tiana quickly added, thinking this one was now complete.

“And share it… Mmmmm…” Ellie had reached the desk and placed her hands on either side of Tiana’s thighs and leaned in close. Tiana could feel the warmth of her breath against her neck now.

“Do you swallow? Or spit?” Ellie asked in a slow, breathy whisper just below Tiana’s ear.

Tiana was being quickly overcome by the power of this woman’s presence; her scent, the tickle of her breath on her neck, her provacative questions. She could feel the faintest beginnings of the tingling between her thighs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; a wave of courage swept over her and she answered with eyes still closed.

“Swallow… Unless I think spitting will turn him on more. Why?”

“Because…” Ellie nuzzled her ear softly, “I’m getting to know you.” and with that she delicately traced a line with just the tip of her tongue from the hollow at the base of Tiana’s throat all the way up to her jaw. The sensation was too much for Tiana and she let out a low, quiet moan.

“Mmmm… You like that?” Ellied asked playfully but all Tiana could do was nod her head slightly. “And what about this?” Ellie asked as she followed the curve of her neck back down with amazingly ethereal kisses. Tiana had tipped her head back and was lost in the enjoyment of the moment. Ellie glanced down as she lay the last of her kisses deep in the hollow of Tiana’s throat.

“Hmmm…what do we have here?” she asked as she saw Tiana’s fully erect nipples clearly through her sweater. “Have I excited you?”

Tiana brought her head forward; her eyes were fixed on the beautiful blonde as she answered, “Yes, you have…very much.”

Ellie reached out with one hand and cupped Tiana’s full breast massaging it casually as she tweaked the nipple between her fingers. Tiana arched her back in reponse and Ellie moved down and took the nipple between her teeth and twisted. Tiana gasped; even through her sweater and bra it felt amazingly satisfying. Ellie let go and moved around in front of her. A little pressure against her legs and Tiana uncrossed her ankles and opened her thighs. Ellie leaned in against her and kissed her passionately. She thrust her tongue deep between Tiana’s open lips and their tongues danced and darted together. Ellie leaned in closer increasing the pressure of her mound against Tiana’s and she felt Tiana’s hips move and sway as she forced herself against Ellie in response. The kiss lasted for some time as they tasted and touched each other intimately as they got to know one another.

At last, Ellie broke the kiss and looked down at her watch. “I have to run, I have another meeting this afternoon.” she said with a hint of disappointment. The look on Tiana’s face was one of dismay; she did not want this to end – at least, not yet.

“Are we through here then? She asked hesitantly as Ellie walked to the couch to get her coat and purse.

“No, far from it. Join me for dinner tonight? LaRue at say, seven o’clock? We can go over the details then.”

“Sure, I’ll be looking forward to it.” Tiana said with a smile as she hopped off the desk a little ruffled.

“Excellent, I’ll see you then.” she said as she walked toward the door. Tiana followed her to the doorway but Ellie motioned her to stay. “That’s alright, I’ll show myself out. You’re still a bit… flushed.” Ellie opened the door as one of the senior partners was preparing to knock.

“Hello, Robert!” She said as she saw him, “Good to see you again.”

“Hi Ellie! I just thought I’d stop in and make sure everything was going all right here.”

“Everything is just fine, Robert.” Ellie turned to Tiana, “Mr. Doernheim here was the first associate I ever hired and now look at him!” Tiana smiled.

“Well Ellie, Ms. Douglas is one of the finest new talents we have here and I’m sure she will be the best attorney you’ve ever had.”

“I do hope so Robert but I’ll have to let you know on that one.” she said with a coy smile as she stepped past him and walked down the hall.

©2002 Ilyrian

All rights reserved

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

There was this woman I worked for from time to time. She knew my deceased mother and so even though she always called me with pain in the ass type of jobs, I would dutifully show up and take care of whatever she needed. Mrs. Kramer was getting old now and was reluctant to make big changes so I was always patching up her home with duct tape so to speak.

One day, as I was leaving, she mentioned to me her daughter Denise needed some touch up work done at her home nearby. I rolled my eyes to myself. “Oh great. Just what I need. More pain in the ass work!” But, what the hell, I agreed to go over to her daughter’s house Saturday morning.

“She belongs to a biking club and they always ride Saturday mornings.” She advised me.

When I got to Denise’s house that Saturday I seemed to get a deja vu sensation. I’d been at this house before. I even sort of recognized Denise when she opened the door. Late forties, decent figure and kinda pretty. She told me I’d been there six years prior to look at her kitchen which was definitely in need of repair or replacement even then. Now it was a disaster. Holes in the hollow core cabinet doors, hinges broken or missing. Aged golden oak stain.

Denise was really friendly and apologized for dragging me out to look at his mess. Turned out she was divorced now and her grown son was graduating from college and planning to come back to Los Angeles to live with her until he got started working in his field. Problem was her ex husband wanted to sell the house and have his son live with him instead.

“He says I’ve messed up the property and he needs me to get it fixed up to sell.” She admitted. This house must have been built in 1960 or so and hell yes! it needed work. I told Denise it wasn’t all her fault, After all, any house built that long ago would need a lot of work. We continued to chat as she took me through the house which revealed a lot of old and worn out doors, floors, light fixtures and so on.

I shook my head. “Denise, where do you go if he sells the house?” She lowered her eyes.

“I…I don’t really know. He’s been letting me live here at reduced rent for three years now and he insists he owes me nothing.” She continued to avoid my gaze.

I explained that it would seem to me that it would make sense for him to spend some money to fix up the house and then sell or rent it. Of course, both options would leave Denise out in the cold. I suggested he spend the dough to fix up the house and then have his son live here and add something to the rent every month. His son would have a place to live and so would his mother. A win win situation!

Again Denise avoided my gaze. “He’s…still bitter about our divorce.” was all she could muster up to say in response.

It was totally none of my business but I couldn’t help but ask. “What was the problem?” They’d been married 13 years and had a son together. Now, after 8 years, he was still pissed enough to basically put her out on the street. There was a long pause. Finally, Denise spoke.

Ron wanted to do stuff. In bed. Stuff I wasn’t comfortable with.” She said quietly. Then she finally looked up at me. “Jeff I never refused to, you know, have sex! But, well, he wanted more and I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t that kind of girl. I know it sounds old Topkapı Escort fashioned and silly but…”

“Oh, so he wanted you to have sex with a group of bikers while he videotaped the whole thing?” I asked with a smile on my face.

She understood my humor and smiled back.

“No. Nothing like that but…um…well, he wanted oral.” She reluctantly admitted. “Hell, any guy would want that Denise.” I smiled. “I don’t think that’s really…”

“I’m sorry. I know men expect that sort of stuff nowadays but, well, he knew what kind of girl I was when he married me!” She insisted.

I looked at the attractive divorcee and wished there was a simple solution to her problem. I was really in no position to be giving advice on such a personal issue but apparently there wasn’t anyone else helping out so…

“Denise, I don’t think your situation is necessarily hopeless.” I began. But I think you need to change your thinking about…sex, for things to work out for you.” Of course Denise began to interrupt me.

“Oh, I…I’m just…I never…”

“No,” I quickly shot back. “It’s not a matter of ‘I’ve never.’ Its a matter of ‘I haven’t yet!'” I replied smiling. “Oral sex isn’t difficult to perform but it does involve the woman, in this case you, agreeing to sacrifice her pleasure to please the man, in this case, your ex husband.” Denise finally made eye contact with me and quietly said…

“Sacrifice my pleasure?”

“Yes, exactly. Once you accept that, it’s just a matter of taking his cock, excuse me, into your mouth and he’ll do the rest, believe me, it isn’t hard. You don’t have to actually ‘suck’ him. Just make your mouth available and he’ll satisfy himself.”

Denise was mortified by my brutally frank assessment of her situation. “I…I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” I left that comment floating in the air there in her little suburban living room before replying.

“You would begin by getting on your knees and pulling down his zipper.” I said smiling. “Then you fish out his cock. Make sure you have privacy of course, then look up and make eye contact and take his cock into your mouth.”

Denise’s shocked expression disappeared from her face now. She seemed to be interested in my graphic instructions. Her eyes never left mine.

“Now, he might not be fully erect when you start out but it shouldn’t take too long for that to happen. If he needs a little help, take off your panties and use them to softly caress his balls while you suck his cock. Let him take his time but never let his prick slip out of your mouth. Show him you’re determined to please him.”

“Take…take off my panties? And use them to…touch his balls.”

I knew Denise had heard me the first time. She apparently just wanted to hear more of my “Explanation.”

“That’s right Denise. Take off your panties and show him your bare pussy for just a moment and then go back to sucking cock. He’ll like that! Now, do you shave your pussy?”

“Oh my goodness no!” She fired back. She thought for a moment and then quietly asked: “Should I?”

“All guys like to see a hairless pussy!” I advised her. “You go to the gym and I assume you’ve noticed all the younger women are shaved these days. Just join the club!”

A little smile came Topkapı Escort Bayan over Denise’s face right about then.

“So, I shave my…my pussy, then I take off my panties and use them to tickle his balls while I’m sucking his cock!” She finally managed to say out loud. “But…well, what do I do at the…the end?”

I shook my head at the pretty divorcee’s naive comment. I think she knew very well what she was supposed to do at “The End” but she wanted me to explain it to her.

“You look up at him when you sense he’s about to cum and whisper ‘Cum in my mouth honey! Let me have your essence.” Remember, that sperm is where your beautiful son came from. It’s really what a man has to give to a woman. His essence. What a woman has to give to a man is her body. In any and every way he desires it.”

This was all quite a bit for Denise to accept after so many years of religious upbringing. Still she knew I was giving her the unvarnished truth from the male perspective. I could tell she was still trying to digest all of this. I just added one more salacious detail.

“And, when he cums in your mouth? You swallow all of his seed. Don’t spit it out and don’t waste a drop of it.”

“Oh, my goodness!” She remarked again. “That’s so nasty!”

“Exactly.” I simply replied. I looked at Denise thinking over all I’d said and then her eyes met mine. I took a chance and gathered Denise into my arms until our bodies were touching. She gazed up at me and then, to my surprise, she planted a little kiss onto my lips. I held her to me for a few moments and then…I stepped back and pointed to the carpet. Her eyes widened as she came to understand my suggestion. She hesitated but then slowly moved to her knees in front of me. I felt her hands on my fly and then felt my zipper moving downward. Denise’s soft hands were fishing around and then I felt her fingers lightly touching my semi hard penis. And those fingers felt good!

“Mmmmm!”” I responded. When she’d managed to free my cock from my pants I felt her warm breath on my bloated cock head and then…then Denise took my cock into her never before violated mouth!

“Oh…Oh!” I involuntarily gasped. Yes, I guess I was expecting this to happen at this point but the reality of it was still astonishing. My cock quickly hardened in her softly sucking mouth and I began to move deeper and deeper into her. Her blue eyes twinkled as she looked up at me, apparently warming to the task now. I made a quick gesture to her lower body and Denise caught my drift. Unfortunately she was wearing those tight biking pants but she was not discouraged. She simply released my cock from her warm wet mouth and moved to her feet. She peeled her tight pants down and then her simple white panties followed revealing her lightly haired vagina. Denise gave me a few moments to admire her bare pussy and it was definitely admirable! Her tightly closed pussy lips were a delightful shade of pink and a barely visible trace of moisture appeared where they came together. She’d become excited as our brutally frank sex conversation had progressed! Yes, I had thoughts about tossing the blow job out the window and trying to fuck Denise but, after all, I was supposed to be teaching her about oral sex so…

Denise picked up her Escort Topkapı sexy and still warm panties and returned to the task at hand: Sucking my cock! She quickly brought her little panties to my lust filled scrotum and began to softly caress my balls while she took as much cock into her mouth as she could.

It wasn’t quite enough. I couldn’t help myself! I took Denise’s head into my hands and shoved all of my wildly stimulated cock into her vainly resisting throat! She gave a useless whimper of complaint but I managed to stuff myself into her oral cavern until my pubic hairs mashed into her nose. Then I began to fuck Denise’s mouth with smooth rhythmic strokes, pleasing myself now. Her soft warm panties continued to stimulate me and her submissive cries just inflamed me all the more. I thought of the brief glimpse she’d afforded me of her bare pussy and I considered how few men had ever realistically seen that!

On and on, Denise was sucking to please now. She’d accepted my need for deep penetration and did her best to take all of my big and bloated hard on into her mouth. Her left hand was teasing my balls with her panties and her right hand was sliding up and down my cockshaft as she did her best to please me. It wouldn’t be long now. My balls were getting ready to give up their essence and then, to my surprise, Denise looked up at me and quietly begged:

“Oh Jeff! Cum in my mouth! Give me all your sperm! Don’t spare me!” And, with that, she moved her soft warm panties behind my balls to lightly tickle my asshole! That was too much! The teasing little minx! She continued to attempt to penetrate my anus with her panties as I redoubled my efforts, shoving all the cock I had into her whimpering mouth! And then…then I was there! I began to cum like I never had before, shooting streams of white-hot sperm into Denise’s gratefully accepting mouth. Yes, she gave a few insincere grunts of complaint but still began to swallow as she felt my semen filling her mouth. And swallow she did! Denise continued to caress my balls in an attempt to get all of the jism into her mouth until, at last, I was finished.

I took a moment to recover before collapsing onto the sofa. Denise had this silly smile on her face as she looked at me there still gasping from the thrilling blow job I’d unexpectedly received. She used her little panties to clean off the tiny bit of sperm that had escaped her voraciously sucking mouth and then handed them to me.

“Here. You can keep these!” She said with a little smile. That smile. Somehow right about then I began to wonder about how much or little sexual experience Denise actually had. Yes, it took a bit of work to get her started but, once she got my hardened cock into her mouth, she really worked hard to please me. And she succeeded! And that panties into my asshole thing towards the end…Just beginners luck?

And, finally she spoke. “So, I need to shave my pussy but otherwise…?

Now I wore a great big smile. “Otherwise you’re the hottest piece of ass I ever had Denise!” I truthfully admitted. “And your ex-husband will be crazy to let you go if you treat him like you just treated me!”

Denise climbed onto the sofa and we shared some kisses then. She quietly thanked me for her “Lesson” and then walked me out to the truck.

“Let me know how it works out, okay?” I said as I got ready to back out of her driveway.

“Oh, I will!” She coyly responded. “I’ll give you all the dirty details!”

I drove off down the little suburban street, Denise’s panties, still warm, in my pocket!

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

Note: This story is part of a small volume of stories that I have posted here previously. They will appear with different names as chapters (10 in all). I think these stories stand alone well, but they are meant to be read as part of a larger work entitled “Divorcing Myself From Myself.”

This chapter,

---

, is called “The Lost Car.” This is the first time it has been posted here.

Thank you in advance for checking this out, and I’m looking forward to hearing what you all think.

Jim

P.S. Please drink responsibly.

The Lost Car

Work was stupid yesterday.

Really fucking stupid.

The Laurence Olivier, Michael Jordan, Rolls Royce of stupid.

I was “let go” from my temp job at an architectural firm because I “lack a professional appearance and attitude.”

By a memo left on my desk before I arrived in the morning.

Meaning I got out of bed, showered, put on clothes, had a cup of coffee, a bowl of Wheaties for breakfast, and then walked 11 blocks to this office building near Westlake Park, took the elevator to the 17th floor, and was about to sit down when I was informed – by a piece of paper – that I had been dismissed.

The office manager couldn’t have called me the day before?

Better yet, broken the news to my face?

I guess not.

He had to go through this whole routine, rather than delivering the news to me personally.

And of course, the aforementioned office manager, who made the decision and authored the memo, was conspicuously absent when this memo was delivered.

He had a meeting to go to, I was told.

How convenient.

How courageous.

So no one could explain first hand why all of this happened.

Other than my services or presence in this office was no longer required.

Or desired.

I was fired.

By a piece of paper.

Okay.

=====

The reasons the memo cited for this conclusion that I “lack a professional appearance and attitude” are my long hair, beard, and the fact that I seldom wore a tie to the office.

In that order.

Admittedly, they had a point.

I did often showed up to work smelling like a brewery with baggy bloodshot eyes, and didn’t really talk to anyone in the office.
I didn’t exactly fit in with the office culture, so I don’t blame them if they decided to fire me.

But those facts weren’t cited, curiously enough.

Just vague bullshit this brave office manager pulled out of his ass so he didn’t appear to be accusing me of something I could contest.

What was curiouser (and enraging) though, was a guy named Jym (his full name is James, he goes by “Jim,” yet he spells it with a “y” for some reason) whose office was across from my cubicle, often showed up in the morning smelling like a brewery, with baggy blood shot eyes, and wasn’t always Mr. Gregarious.

He also had a little flask he nipped from, now and again.

He often returned from 2ish hour long lunches three sheets to the wind.

He too, seldom wore ties, save for those skinny square end ties that were all the rage in the early 1980’s.

He had a mullet, a porn star mustache, a scruffy Miami Vice style beard, and a rat tail dangling down his back.

On casual Fridays, he’d wear a sleeveless David Bowie “Serious Moonlight Tour” t-shirt, jeans, and puffy white Adidas shoes.

He was the rebel of the office.

He was also a role model.

You could hear his name mentioned enviously by his co-workers in the break room, amazed at how he got things done.

His maturity was admired, too.

He said the right things when the Fındıkzade Escort boss bragged about his natural gas-powered car, or when a colleague talked about how his kid is deciding between UCLA or Berkeley, or when another colleague talked about his intense racketball games.

He was the go to man in the office for advice on professional, even personal matters.

One of the secretaries was often in his office, explaining the latest complications in her relationship (his persistent demand for some rumpy pumpy), and how she just wasn’t attracted to him.

“He’s always talking about sex!” she would complain.

Jym would sit and listen with rapt attention as he sat back with his feet up on his desk, tossing an apple in his hands.

He would look at me askance when I told him I wasn’t sure of my future plans when he’d ask about them.

“You’ll figure something out, right?” he’d say with a condescending smile

Nice.

So, as irresponsible as I may be, he is hailed for his maturity, wisdom, and professionalism, while also being a functioning alcoholic, but I’m shitcanned by a piece of paper due to my “lack of professional appearance and attitude.”

Okay.

Sure.

What-fucking-ever.

Eat shit and die, Jym.

I could care less.

I’m going to drink.

A lot.

Because that’s the only thing I care about doing right now.

=====

Susie’s out of town, so I go stag.

I head out into the driving rain, and after warming up my truck, I tool on over to the Comet, where I find parking around the corner on 10th.

I go inside and take a seat near the pool table and empty kegs.

I get a shot and a beer and I down them.

Then I do it again.

Then I do it a third time.

As the alcohol blurs the events of today, this chick with dark hair sits down next to me.

Long, thick, dark hair soaking form the rain, and big dark eyes.

Full red lips.

She introduces herself.

I think she says her name is Kim.

Maybe Karen.

I never really hear her say it, and I don’t ask her to repeat it.

She asks what I’m drinking, and I tell her Jameson and beer.

She’s already well on her way.

She says she only drinks German beer and laments that neither the Comet nor any of the bars on the hill have any good German beer.

I tell her they have Stroh’s.

She laughs and rolls her eyes.

She’s settled for LaBatt’s because she won’t touch Stroh’s or any other American beer with a ten foot pole, she tells me.

I keep her glass filled.

Mine too.

She talks.

A lot.

About herself.

Her job, her roommate, her brother, her car, her checking account, her apartment.

You could connect a turbine to her mouth and power the city.

I can barely get a word in edgewise, but I don’t care.

When she has exhausted her directory of topics, she tells me I’m cute.

Handsome.

Charismatic.

In that order.

I tell her flattery is not necessary.

Then I wink.

She laughs again.

Her brown suede-like jacket is wet from the rain as well.

She’s wearing a black sweater, a black skirt, black stockings, and black ankle high boots.

She’s got a bit of junk in the trunk, but it works for her.

And me.

She also has behemothic breasts.

She models them for me, volunteering that they’re DD’s.

She asks me three times what I do for a living.

The first two times, I answer, “I exist.”

The third time I tell her I’m an astronaut.

She laughs yet again.

I am becoming Ralph Fındıkzade escort Bayan Malph.

We keep drinking past midnight and the crowd thins.

Her fingers dance on my hand from time to time.

She brushes up against me from time to time.

Then she asks me if I have a girlfriend.

I say, “Not really.”

She says, “Good, because I could use a good roll in the hay.”

Her eyes sparkle, and her smile blinds.

She turns my head towards her, cups my face in her hands and gives me a wet drunken, kiss, and says, “Let’s get out of here.”

We pack up and stumble over to my truck, and drive over to her place on 15th.

I park about three doors down from her building.

We go inside.

She grabs my crotch and starts kissing me.

She is an excellent kisser.

Her mouth tastes great.

“Get naked,” she commands as she pulls off her top.

I take off my shirt and undo her bra.

Her tits bounce out, and she undoes my jeans and practically rips them and my boxers off.

I remove her skirt, stockings, and panties.

Her skin is very soft.

It’s cold in her apartment.

The steam heater is clanging, but not generating much heat.

She has goosebumps.

Her large nipples are erect, and I twist them slightly.

She squeals.

She smiles and looks down at my Willy and looks back at me with a twinkle and then drops to her knees.

She blows me for a couple of minutes until I am rock hard.

“Are you ready to fuck me?” she says after stopping to look up at me.

“Yes,” I reply.

She goes to her drawer and tosses me a condom, which I open and put on.

I love chicks who are prepared.

She gets on her bed and opens her legs.

Her moist pussy gleams.

I mount, insert, and thrust.

I pound away.

She moans.

And groans.

Her breasts jounce back and forth.

I go faster.

She moans louder.

I go even faster.

Her moans turns to a scream.

Then I shoot.

I drop on to her.

I catch my breath and get up to go to the bathroom.

I take off the condom and drop it in the toilet.

Then I wipe my Johnson with toilet paper and drop that in the toilet.

Then I pee a gallon on top of all of that and flush.

I come back to bed, and she’s drifting off.

I fall asleep.

=====

At 7 am, she is snoring next to me.

My head is pounding, and I look around, disoriented.

After a few minutes, I piece it all together and realize where I am, and how I got here.

Then I realize I’m not positive I know what her name is.

I think she said it was Kim, but it could also be Karen.

I am briefly unnerved when I realize I’ve boned a complete stranger about whose name I have no clarity.

I lay there a few minutes, trying to remember her name.

Then I stop caring

She keeps snoring.

Then I decide the best thing to do would be to get up, get dressed as quietly as I can, and get the fuck out of there.

It’s shitty.

Cowardly.

Like the boss who fired me by means of a piece of paper.

But I’ve had drunken one night stands with complete strangers before, and it’s awkward in the morning.

She will undoubtedly go bananas when she realizes what’s happened.

She may demand I leave and threaten to call the cops if I don’t leave, which actually happened one time.

A boyfriend could knock on the door, which also happened one time.

She could have a husband that she conveniently neglected to mention.

Those are situations I Escort Fındıkzade don’t want to experience.

Conversations I don’t wish to have.

So I get up, quietly gather my clothes, and tiptoe to the bathroom, not pulling the door shut, lest the latching sound wakes her up.

I put my boxers and pants on, along with my shirt, which I button unevenly.

I put on a sock.

Then another sock.

Then a boot.

Then the other.

Fortunately, I never took my keys or wallet out of the pockets.

I tiptoe back out into the bedroom.

I grab my coat, which I had tossed onto a chair, and slowly put it on, keeping my eyes locked on her to look for any movement.

She is still out.

I’m ready to go.

I tiptoe out of the bedroom into the living room, thanking God both rooms are carpeted.

When I get to the door, I open it very carefully, but it starts creaking.

“FUCK!” I say under my breath.

I pull it open a little bit more, and it creaks some more.

A little bit more open, and a little bit more creaking.

Eventually, there is enough room for me to step out.

I say fuck it and pull the door closed, turning the doorknob to keep the latch back, and slightly releasing it for the latch to go into place.

Then I bolt.

I walk down damp 15th Avenue until I come to Pike and then turn left, heading west down to Bellevue, where I turn north, and after crossing Olive and passing three buildings, I find my homestead.

I open the door, go inside, and head downstairs to my apartment.

I go inside, take off my clothes, flop on the bed, and crash.

=====

At about 2 pm, I stir.

I have successfully slept off most effects of what would otherwise be a wicked hangover, but I am overcome with a craving for hot, greasy food.

So I throw on my clothes from last night, and head out the door, and up Olive Way to

Broadway, where Ernie Steele’s waits for me just up from the corner.

I grab an old newspaper, take a seat at the counter, and order a cheeseburger, fries, and diet coke to satisfy my mean hankering.

After a few minutes, my food and drink are brought to me, and that first bite of the hits the right spot, and I am in heaven.

And then I am in hell.

Because while I am eating, bits and pieces of last night’s events come back to me, including realizing that I drove last night.

And that my truck is just down the street from Kim/Karen’s building back on 15th.

Maybe.

I’m not positive, but I have a hunch that it is there.

Or is it just a hope?

I have no certain memory.

Only a hunch.

And if my truck isn’t there, then where the hell is it?

So I pay the bill and leave immediately, running over to 15th Avenue, praying out loud that my truck is parked there…somewhere.

I mainly pray that there aren’t any new dents when I do find it, or on the neighboring vehicles parked in front and in back of it.

My prayers are answered when I see my old green Chevy truck, as well as the neighboring vehicles unscathed, and parked about halfway down the block off Union.

I get in and am about to start the engine when I notice something on the passenger side floor.

I pick it up and look at it.

It’s an ID.

Her ID.

Her name is, in fact, Kim.

I check the address on her ID and see that her building is close by, so I hesitatingly get out and walk up to the front door, which is thankfully propped open.

I go inside and see a row of mailboxes in the lobby, find hers, and drop the ID inside.

Then I go back to my truck, get in, start it up, and drive home.

When I get back, I sit on the couch and feel great shame.

Realizing how lucky I am that I didn’t kill someone.

Or myself.

And about ditching that woman.

Then I grab the TV remote and turn on a basketball game.

I move on.

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

We were meeting for lunch at a busy establishment that is renowned for its chicken dishes. As we were being seated, you sat next to me in the booth, as you always do, instead of opposite. Since you are right handed and as I like using my left, this sitting arrangement works out fine. We were out to dinner for the simple reason that we enjoy each other’s company both in and out of the bedroom. You look simply ravishing in your tight fitting sundress. Your red tresses are tied behind you in a loose ponytail that sways every time you turn your head. You look absolutely stunning. I notice your beautiful face and so does everyone else in the restaurant.

The waitress, a woman in her late 20’s looks both of us over as she takes our order. She gazes with a smile at your brilliant smile and the top of your milky white breasts that show from your low cut dress. The waitress leaves our table, after taking our order, and gives you one more appreciative glance. We giggle to each other after she leaves knowing full well that you are looking absolutely gorgeous tonight and know that we are planning on having some fun. The waitress brings back our salads, again, taking in your contours and curves Eyüp Escort like she was going to purchase you from the menu. As we ate our salads, you with your right hand, me with my left, the tablecloth concealed our other hands, were free to roam and they did wander. I looked out at the other customers from time to time and saw that no one seemed to notice anything unusual.

My free hand had gone to work raising your skirt as soon as we were seated. It rested high on your thigh as the waitress took our order. You appeared perfectly calm, as you selected the chef’s salad and vegetable beef soup. You had already unzipped me and your free hand was freeing my erection from my pants all the while. We are probably served some terrible food and don’t even know it. There are only a few things on our menu that we would want.

Only calmness and attention to your soup showed on your face, until you blushed and sat upright at your first orgasm. Two of my fingers were firmly up your very hot, very wet slit. Your shaved pussy, not even a cotton set of panties touching it, is cumming hard all over my hand. You can feel your juices slide along your thighs and my fingers. The Eyüp Escort Bayan waitress noticed your blush; but she didn’t say anything out loud. She did look envious of me though as she felt that I was intruding on her territory.

You had freed my erection and took long, slow, hard strokes as our salads were cleared from the table. The waitress parted seeing your arm close to me; moving ever so slightly. “Napkin! Now!” I muttered urgently under my breath, not half way through my roast beef on rye, with mustard. You responded immediately; my napkin disappeared beneath the tablecloth. I placed both feet firmly, flat on the floor, trying to show no emotion as the napkin now covering my throbbing hard on and your hand, became soaked. My vision was still swimming from the touch of your fingers that just departed my now softening member. As I was recovering, you stopped eating for a moment and wiped your hands in the napkin, then touched it to your mouth and smiled at me. No one else noticed.

I withdrew my hand and ran my two, wandering fingers under my nose, as though they were a fine cigar. I smiled back. No on noticed. You love the way that I enjoy the Escort Eyüp scent of your womanhood. I know that you love the feel of my sperm in your mouth. That is just one of the reasons we have such fun together.

“Would you care for some desert?” The waitress asked. Looking at our flushed faces she can tell what we have been doing. “I’m counting calories.” Absent mindedly, you began biting on the crumpled, wet napkin in your hand. Your teeth closed on it, held it, as you drew in as breath through your teeth, making a wet, sucking noise. A very erotic gesture. “Just coffee. I’ll save my desert for after dinner.” The waitress disappeared to get the coffee. She was taking a little bit longer than we would have thought to get our coffee and when she returned her apron was a little crooked and her face was just as red as ours. We were both in a fit of giggles when she left after asking me if you wanted cream in your coffee with a not so subtle glance at me.

While drinking my coffee, I asked you if you were going to take the napkin with you? I hadn’t meant to embarrass you. You blushed again, pulled it from your pocket and threw it on the table, as we got up to leave. As I slide our chairs in, I notice that you picked up the napkin though and deftly folded it in two and placed it in your black leather handbag. You broke out in giggles every time I looked at you; all the way back to my house. We were now looking for our dessert.

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

Danny was trapped and struggling to breathe, and he absolutely loved it.

He’d been eating Emily out for almost ten minutes, and what had started with exploratory licks and suckling on her thighs had evolved into having his face ridden by the exuberant brunette. As he’d allowed his tongue to explore deeper into her tight slit, Emily had only writhed harder against him, her legs wrapping tighter around his head. His nose was able to get some air from the thicket of her pubic hair, but for the most part, she was all he had to breathe.

“God, yes,” Emily moaned, her hand gripping tightly at Danny’s hair, pushing him closer to her crotch as he ate her out. “Shit, you give as good as you get, dude. I’m soooooo close.”

Danny couldn’t reply, so he just continued to plunge Emily’s depths with his tongue. She had one of the best pussies he’d had the privilege of tasting, and her enthusiasm only made things better for him. Every time he darted deep, she let out a low moan, while teasing her clit caused her thighs to clench tighter. Feeling how her body was starting to shake, he began to focus more on the latter, and the vice around his head was soon joined by higher and higher-pitched moans from his partner.

“Fuck!” Emily finally yelled, her whole body jolting forward. Danny was fully smothered as Emily’s ass left the table and she sat fully on his face, her twat spasming hard against him as an orgasm rocked her body. Danny dug deep, his arms gripping Emily’s legs to help support her as he continued to feast, pushing Emily’s orgasm as long as possible. For her part, Emily slammed her hands on the table, shaking violently as pleasure filled her world. “Shit, shit, shit, AHHHH!”

Finally, as Danny felt himself becoming desperate for oxygen, Emily collapsed back onto the table. Her thighs continued to tremble before him as he took a deep breath. He placed a hand on the table between her legs to steady himself, smiling as he watched Emily come down from her orgasmic high. As he looked at her, he realized she was still wearing her shirt; all they’d done, he still hadn’t seen her tits. That needed to change.

“That was… holy shit…” Emily smiled dreamily at Danny as he stood up in front of her. “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

“You and me both,” Danny said before leaning over and kissing Emily again. They made out for another moment, Danny taking it up another level by squeezing Emily’s breasts through her shirt. She moaned into his mouth, her body ready for what was coming; the way his erection brushed against her thighs made it clear he was ready, too. Finally, he pulled back, and Emily allowed him to pull her shirt off as he went. She smirked, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra; with a roll of her shoulders, she was topless.

“Like what you see?”

“Absolutely,” Danny said, Buca Escort not hesitating to lean forward and take her perky tits in his hands. He allowed himself to enjoy the weight of her c-cups for a moment, before lowering his head to take one of her dark nipples into his mouth. Emily shivered, her nipples still sensitive following her orgasm, as Danny began to lightly suck and nip at her; her pleasure intensified as he began to roll his palm against her other breast. Instinctively, her thighs pressed together as she started revving up again, squeezing Danny’s hips. And while the attention being paid to her chest was nice, she needed to feel what was waiting between her legs.

“Mmmm, Danny, get on the floor,” Emily moaned, pulling him from her tits. Their eyes met, the lust a palpable heat between them. “I owe you a ride.”

“Yeah you do,” Danny agreed, stepping back and glancing at the floor behind him. He took a moment to find a good spot on the cheap carpet and dropped to his knees. With Emily now standing, he gave her a few kisses across her legs before laying all the way down on the floor. Emily looked down at him and smiled, his erection standing tall and calling for her to take a seat. “There’s a condom in my wallet.”

“I’m on the pill,” Emily responded, stepping over Danny, a foot on either side of his hips. “I want to feel you inside me right.” Emily dropped down onto her knees slowly, stopping herself just as she felt Danny’s dick pressing against her ass. She reached between her legs and grabbed him, enjoying the way Danny bit his lip as she squeezed it. He continued to squirm as she rubbed the head along her length, wetting his tip. “Besides, I don’t want you coming inside of me. I want more of you on my body.”

With that, Emily dropped her hips, spearing herself on Danny’s entire length. They both let out a cry of pleasure, with Emily’s hips involuntarily bucking as the mere act sent another mini-orgasm tearing through her. It was her turn to bite her lip as she leaned into the motion, rocking her hips and feeling Danny stretch her.

“So damn tight,” Danny hissed, his hands gripping the tops of Emily’s legs as she rocked on top of her. He felt snug inside of her, the slick walls of her pussy twitching around him. Combined with the sight of her on him, eyes shut and kneading her own breasts, it was easily one of the best lays of Danny’s life, and they hadn’t even really gotten going yet. He let his hands run forward and grip onto Emily’s hips. “Bounce for me, baby.”

Emily opened her eyes and smiled at Danny, putting a hand on either side of his head and leaning down to kiss her lover. Their tongues began to intertwine as Emily began to do exactly what Danny had asked: bounce her ass on his dick. Danny’s arms went around Emily’s back as she rocked, gripping her close to Escort Buca him as she went up, down, up, down, up, down on his cock.

“That what you wanted?” Emily whispered, running her tongue along the edge of his ear. “Wanted to feel my as slapping into your legs? Your dick pumping into me?”

“Damn right,” Danny said, a hand going back to take a handful of her shapely ass, guiding her to bounce a little faster. He began to thrust up to meet her bounces, the sound of their flesh slapping together filling the small room. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long, just to drill into this hot pussy of yours. So good, baby, so good.”

“Mmm, yeah, Danny, fuck me hard. Just pound me, just like that, yes!”

Emily picked up her pace, loving the feel of his rod slipping out of and then pounding back into her. His thrusts were only increasing in intensity, and there was a heated charge building in both of their bodies as they came closer and closer to the breaking point. She loved the feel of him inside her, the grip he held on her ass; he was addicted to the heated grip of her twat, the way her boobs bounced as she rode him.

“So close…” Emily moaned, head back, eyes shut. “So fucking close…”

“God, Em… just want to… fucking god…” Danny could barely articulate himself, so he just acted. He shifted his grip back to Emily’s hips and turned her off of him, pushing her to the ground as they came apart. The move surprised Emily only for as long as it took for Danny to mount up and thrust back into her waiting cunt.

“Oh, fuck!” Emily shouted, now pinned under Danny’s body as he sunk even deeper into her. Their mouths found each other, kisses desperate and wet as he slammed into her over and over. Emily wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster… so close… so close…

“Fuck, I’m coming!” Emily shouted, her legs tightening, holding Danny inside of her as her third, and most powerful, orgasm of the night exploded through her body. Again, she shook involuntarily, her whole frame overtaken with white hot pleasure, intensified by the feeling of his dick still moving inside of her, the way his chest rubbed her nipples, the heat of his breath against her neck. It was heavenly, and she knew what would make it perfect. With some struggle, she tore away her legs. “Cum on me, Danny, give it to me!”

Already near the edge, Emily’s request was all Danny needed to let himself go. With a heavy grunt, Danny pulled out of Emily and rose to his knees, stroking his dick rapidly as he looked down at her. She continued to urge him on, both verbally and with the way her hips continued to tremble. “Here it comes, baby. Here it comes!”

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Danny’s orgasm hit, and he shot his load across Emily’s stomach. The first burst went far, a long Buca Escort Bayan rope stretching all the way to her left breast, and the follow-ups got good distance as well, painting the pale expanse of her body with his cum. He continued to stroke and shoot until he was left partially erect and dripping spots just above her pubic hair.

“Fuck,” Danny said, feeling exhaustion hit him as he rolled off of Emily and collapsed next to her. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, both just breathing heavily and basking in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well,” Emily said, finally breaking the silence, “that was pretty fucking great, huh?”

“No shit,” Danny replied, propping himself up to look at Emily. “I should work late every night.”

“Maybe not every night,” Emily laughed. “But definitely again.”

“Absolutely,” Danny said, pulling himself up. He looked down at Emily, his cum still splattered across her stomach. “Let me get you some paper towels.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Emily said, letting her fingers run through his load. “You’ve got the goods, dude.”

“Plenty more where that came from,” he assured, handing her the roll of paper towels.

“You promise? Because there’s still plenty we could-“

Emily was cut off as her phone began to ring. Recognizing the tone, she reached out to where her pants had been discarded and quickly dug it out.

“Hello, Mr. Reyes,” she said, answering. “No, we didn’t forget the security camera, we just haven’t left yet… no, we got held up, but we’re leaving now… yes, we’ll turn it right on… no, we won’t forget to lock up… good night, sir.”

“Guess we really did take our sweet time,” Danny said as she hung up, already pulling his shirt on.

“Yeah, we did,” Emily agreed, starting to wipe her stomach. She glanced up at Danny and flashed a toothy grin. “Worth it.”

The two quickly got dressed and made sure they weren’t leaving anything too incriminating behind. As she pulled on her own shirt, Emily realized there was still some cum drying from her earlier facial, but she just laughed, not worried about it picking up on the camera.

“It’ll just look like I spilled something. Which, heh, true.”

Once they were ready, Emily set the security camera and alarm and they slipped out the back.

“So,” Danny said, dropping into the passenger seat of Emily’s car, “I guess you need my address.”

“Or…” Emily said, letting the word hang between them.

“Or?”

“Or since we’re both working in the morning, and I’m the one in need of a change of clothes… you could come back to my place.”

Danny smiled. “Is your roommate out of town, too?”

“No,” Emily said, eyes locked with his, “but my parents are.”

“Right…” Danny said, unable to look away. “You’re eighteen. You’re still in high school.”

“Yeah…” Emily put her hand in Danny’s lap, massaging his newly forming erection. “I’m your sweet little girl. How about I take you home and show you how sweet?”

Danny swallowed hard. “Sounds good to me.”

To be continued…

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

WARNING: English is NOT my first language – I have learned it in school and practiced it a lot in trading, but this is (even though pornographic) supposed to be literature.

So please bear with me, or, if not, just read something else.

I also need to mention that the story is true, only depicting my personal experience(s).

All the names and/or places may have nothing to do with the reality…

*****

I’m at Ron’s place.

He’s a good friend of mine, and we also are working in the same institute.

Today, due to reasons I cannot remember, we’ve left a few hours earlier from work, so that he has invited me to pay him a visit.

On our way to his place, we’ve stopped and bought three bottles of some really good Bulgarian dry red wine.

He knows that I don’t like to drink without eating, so that he also buys some eggs, mushrooms, ketchup and butter.

I have taught him my recipe of poached eggs, with chopped mushrooms, boiled in butter, then mixed with poached eggs and, at the end, colored with some ketchup…

Of course it also needs a little salt and pepper.

Gosh! How I love it!

Especially when I am alone, and I can simply rip a piece of bread and eat it with my bare fingers, just helping myself with the bread, using it as a fork, or spoon…

Ron knows this very well, so that we take advantage of the fact that his fiancee is supposed to come home hours later.

He prepares the meal, pours it into two bowls, and brings it in the living, where the bottles are expecting us.

I have already brought some glasses, a corkscrew, and we are ready for the feast…

I have also brought, from his kitchen, a fork for him, since I know that he doesn’t like to eat in the “animal” way, as I do…

Ron’s skills, plus my assistance, has made the eggs be wonderful.

I start eating, in my animal manner, enjoying each and every bite, until I hear some keys opening the front door, and… seeing Cora, Ron’s fiancee, followed by a blond female beauty, entering the living…

I jump from the coffee table where we were feasting, run at the kitchen, wash my hands, then take a fork, and go back into the living, kiss Cora and meet Cynthia.

Cynthia isn’t tall, but she cannot be considered a short person.

Her hair is blond, that dirty blond we are all talking about, a little bit naturally curled, she’s probably got some boobs, but I cannot tell that they are poking like crazy, or something, a nice curved ass, and long straight legs, accentuated by her very high heeled boots that she’s wearing.

The way she’s dressed, decent, nice, but… not from here, makes me guess that she’s not from Bucharest.

Cora quickly lets us all know that Cynthia used to be a neighbor of hers in the town where she is from, and that she has come here, since she wants to work, and, afterwards, try to continue her studies at the Polytechnic University.

She’s barely nineteen, and, while she’s at the bathroom, Cora tells us that she’s had the bad luck to start her love life being raped by her so called boyfriend, “helped” by other three or four guys…

Ron isn’t, and probably has never been a “normal” guy…

The moment Cynthia comes back from the bathroom, he’s openly asking her to tell us about the way she’s been raped, with all the details possible…

My kicks on his shoulder, or the vocal protests of Cora, his fiancee, don’t stop him from his speech…

He’s simply stubborn and crazy, and I do know that, very well…

Cynthia’s face is red as a tomato, but, at least for the moment, I don’t see her eyes watering her cheeks…

She doesn’t, in fact, remember too much, since her ex-boyfriend has taken care to make her drink some large quantities of booze, before taking advantage of her…

Cora raises, going to the kitchen to prepare something to eat, since the eggs were only for two, and already served into the bowls, while I raise and leave for a few minutes, to buy some more wine.

I ask Cora if she needs anything else to be bought, but she denies.

Cynthia insists that I shouldn’t bother, since the beverages we have seem to be enough, while I, in the joking spirit of Ron, simply tell her that, since her ex-boyfriend has only reached to make love to her making her first drink a lot, I must be prepared…

I’m laughing, while she bursts into tears!

How shitty I can be! What an ass!…

I jump, take her in my arms, and keep on saying: “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!…

I feel awful, and need a mirror, to go in front of it, and start slapping my face.

Gosh! What an idiot I can be!…

Anyway, I leave and go to buy the wine, asking myself if, under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be better to just go home…

The more annoying thing is that I like the girl, and, also, I really feel bad towards Cora, since, being her friend, I’m sure that she doesn’t want her to suffer…

Well, I’m just a dick head and, honestly, I am really, really sorry!

Coming back at Ron’s apartment, I can hear some blues.

I ring Side Escort the bell, and Ron comes to open the door, with Cora embracing him – they are dancing, while Cynthia is looking over some Cora’s magazines…

Ron simply whispers:

“Go and take that girl to dance. She is really upset!”…

I leave the bag with the bottles, take off my overcoat, then approach Cynthia, kneel in front of her, take and kiss her both hands, asking her for forgiveness, then asking her to dance with me…

I can see her beautiful green eyes bursting into tears again, but she raises, and we start dancing.

Later on, she will tell me that absolutely nobody has ever knelt in front of her…

Gosh! What a great deal can mean a simple gesture, costing you nothing!…

After an hour, or so, Cora approaches me, asking me if I can be gentleman enough to take Cora to the railway station and bring back here her luggage, since she’s left them at the luggage department, at the railway station.

She also mentions, smiling, that I’m supposed to bring Cynthia and the luggage back here, not at my place…

So, it seems to be clear by now that I’m gonna get some pussy tonight, or, at least, this is what tells me my wishful thinking!…

I insist to take a taxi, and also insist to pay for it.

In less than forty minutes we are back, l ring the door bell, and, after five minutes, or more, Ron opens the door, then runs towards the bedroom…

They haven’t expected us to come back this soon!…

I pour some wine into our glasses, say cheers, then sip, and… after ten minutes, or so, Cora appears, blushing like a teenager, saying “Sorry”, and bringing some crackers…

Ron isn’t that shy.

He simply appears wearing a pajama, pours some wine, then takes advantage of the closeness of his fiancee, and simply grabs her beautiful ass, mentioning: “Good merchandise!…”

Cora slaps his forehead, commenting:

“You! Swine!”…

She then gives me an ugly look…

I try to defend myself, asking:

“Now, what have I done?!?”

She answers:

“Just leave it as it has fallen! You know very well! Let it be!”…

Cynthia puts her hand on mine, comforting me, so that I keep quiet.

We keep on drinking, eating, dancing a little, until, at ten in the evening, Cora halts the music, asking me to go home, since, in the morning, Cynthia is expected at an interview, and she wants her to look fresh, not trashed…

Cora simply knows what a good fucker I can be, since my ex-wife has taken care to explain, in a… probably very detailed manner…

In fact, this is one of the tiny reasons that have also made me decide to divorce…

In the morning, at work, I drink the coffee together with Ron.

He tells me that Cynthia isn’t upset with me, that, in fact, she likes me, so that, most probably, if I have nothing against it, they will pay me a visit tonight, and, who knows, maybe he will leave only accompanied by his fiancee, since, anyway, my large bed is much better than the couch on which Cynthia has slept in their living…

Theoretically, she will still have to use that couch for more than a week, until she finds out if she has really found a job here, and then look for a place to rent.

I ask Ron if there is any need to start looking for some connections to help the girl with her job, but he denies, telling me that Cora has assisted at the pre – interview and that Cynthia has been all right.

In fact, it’s better like this, since I don’t want Cynthia to feel like being, somewhat, obliged to be sleeping with me…

The only problem in the equation seems to be Cora, who knows very well that, after the divorce, I’m not looking to find myself a new wife so quickly, and she also doesn’t want to see Cynthia heartbroken…

I ask Ron to tell Cora that I shall be very open with Cynthia, not letting her make herself any useless illusions about myself.

Then I add:

“Well, finally, maybe it’s time for Cynthia to see what making love means – by the way, do you have any idea if she’s been raped only by her boyfriend, or by… all his other friends?”

Ron draws a large smoke from his cigarette:

“The problem is that… she’s been so trashed by the booze, so that she practically cannot remember”…

“And, why the heck didn’t she go to the militia, to report the rape?”

Ron jumps:

“Are you crazy?!? In that tiny little town of theirs?!? To label her as a whore with official documents?

Nooooo way! It’s bad enough that her boyfriend and his friends have, somewhat, spread the word about it!”…

In fact, this is what has made her take the decision to come at Bucharest. Large town, lots of people who don’t know her, or her history…

Ron continues, telling me that Cora has arranged for Cynthia to be seen today by a gynecologist, to make sure that everything is in good order down there.

She has no pain, her periods have come just as usual, but… it’s better to be cautious, especially since she cannot remember if Side Escort Bayan there’s been one, or four or five dicks inside her…

Anyway, the guy has acted like a jerk, since Cynthia was always sucking his dick willingly, and even letting him fuck her up her ass from time to time, her only limit being that she wanted to give him her virginity in the night of their wedding…

Anyway, it seems that, in fact, he didn’t have any wedding plans – at least, not with her!…

“Gosh! Ron! You seem to know all the history of this girl!”

“I’ve told you that she and Cora used to be very good friends back home”…

Now… it’s six in the evening, the door bell rings, and I let come in Cora, Cynthia and Ron.

I invite them to sit, then bring some whiskey, but I also have to bring some wine, as Cynthia refuses, since the “accident,” to drink any spirit booze…

The interview has been great, no problems, and… also the gynecologist has concluded that she has been completely deflowered, with no visible scars, but couldn’t tell if she’s been raped by only one person.

Of course Cora has a large mouth, so she continues, telling us that, since the gynecologist is a female, she has also recommended, as from a woman to another woman, that Cynthia should try to have sex with someone she trusts, aware, this time, of the event…

As you can imagine, Cynthia is blushing…

Since I am the host, and I also have had dealt, in my past, with some women who have been raped, I feel the need to say something:

“Now, Cynthia, I know how awkward you can feel, especially since you’ve only met Ron and me yesterday, but please remember that you are here among friends. Real friends!…

Further more, we are all adults and if we do discuss these matters, we only do it trying to find what’s best for you.

Nobody laughs, or is trying to be mean!”…

I suddenly remember my “joke” of yesterday:

“And… about my silly, stupid joke, that I’ve made yesterday, I cannot even describe in words how sorry I can be, but, from your attitude, I’ve honestly thought that you have, somewhat, managed to get over that unfortunate event.

To tell you the complete truth, yesterday, after I’ve left to buy the wine, for several minutes, I’ve been dealing with the impulse to go home. I was really, really ashamed of myself!…”

Cynthia jumps from her chair, comes and sits on my lap, kisses me on both my cheeks, then, with her hand, ruffles my hair:

“Well, big and naughty boy, this time you’re forgiven!”

Then she kisses me again, but, this time, directly on my lips.

Ron and Cora start applauding.

I raise from my chair, with Cynthia still in my arms, and start dancing with her.

Cora jumps from the chair, grabbing Ron’s hand, and they start dancing too.

So, we chat, we dance, we drink a little, having a good time.

Close to ten in the evening, Cora asks Cynthia to come with her, and they both enter in… the bathroom!

It’s clear that they need to discuss something, and they don’t want to be heard by us…

After about fifteen minutes, they come back.

Cynthia takes a seat, and Cora asks me to… come with her.

“Gosh! I hope you won’t take me to the bathroom! I don’t want to make Ron think who knows what!”

She grabs my hand and takes me to the kitchen, making me sit at the table, while she sits in front of me.

In quite a few words, she gives me a lecture about how much she cares for Cynthia, and how much she wants to help her, blah, blah…

The idea is that Cynthia has accepted to stay with me tonight, and try to get over her problem, especially since Cora has insisted that I should be the “therapist”, since I’ve dealt already with other victims, and, generally, since I’m an honest and open guy…

You probably guess that I accept, also promising Cora that Cynthia will only do what she wants, if she wants, when she wants…

I end jokingly:

“Tonight, I shall keep the strings and the handcuffs under the bed!”…

We raise, Cora kicks my liver, jokingly, and we go back.

Cora informs Ron that it’s time for them to go.

I ask:

“Cynthia, what is your schedule for tomorrow?”

Cora hurries to answer instead of her:

“She’s as free as a bird, all day long!”

I look at Ron:

“Will you please spare me a phone call, and inform our dear boss that I am… busy?”

He looks at me, and, of course, makes a stupid joke:

“No, I shall tell him that you need to do something recommended by a doctor!

I’m dying to see his face when I shall tell him that the doctor is a… gynecologist!”

And, of course, he bursts into laughter…

Now, if everybody knows everything, I’m just wondering what the heck were those maneuvers for, with the girls going alone into the bathroom, then Cora and me in the kitchen…

“Now, Ron, just take care! I simply don’t want all Bucharest to hear about Cynthia’s history and her problems!

Have I made myself clear?”

He’s not very Escort Side happy hearing my words, but he knows that he deserves it…

We kiss good bye, then, after their departure, Cynthia excuses herself, takes her purse, a rather large one, and goes to the bathroom.

After twenty minutes, or so, she comes back, wearing a nightgown, with her clothes and purse on one arm.

I help her with her purse, showing her where she can put her clothes.

Now, it’s clear that the girls have planned this, long before letting us, boys, know anything about it…

I bring a small glass, take the bottle of whiskey, and pour just a little into the glass, then, looking at Cynthia, I tell her:

“Now, baby, first things first. You need to get over your fears, probably nightmares, so that I would like you to take that glass, and sip from it. It won’t do you any harm, I guarantee!”

Cynthia looks at the glass as if she would be seeing a poisonous snake, or something, but, after a moment, she grabs it and engulfs all of it’s content in one gulp.

I can only hope that she won’t act like this when we shall try to have sex…

“Good! The only problem is that you don’t need to rush like that! Do you want a little bit more? But… only a little!”

No, she doesn’t.

Now, the problem is that ever since Cora and Ron have left, she avoids to speak.

Anyway, she doesn’t seem to be the talkative kind, but, still, I need to find a way to make her feel a little bit more relaxed…

Since a blues just got started, I stand up and invite her to dance with me.

We dance for a while, embraced, then I grab her chin and make her mouth come gently towards mine.

Gosh! She’s surely brought not only her nightgown, since the smell of her mouth tells me that she’s recently brushed her teeth…

I’m wondering what else has she brought in that bag of hers…

Anyway, caressing her back I realize that she isn’t wearing a bra, then, when I let my hand wander towards her ass, I realize that she’s also wearing no panties.

So, the girl has made the things easy for me…

After the tune is over, I ask her if I can put a tape with some smooth, relaxing tunes.

She nods, in agreement.

“Now, Cynthia, please believe me that I do have some pajamas over here, but, honestly, I use to sleep naked.

Would that… shock you? Or, make you feel embarrassed?”

She looks towards my crotch, probably noticing the effect our dance and kiss has had to me:

“If you don’t mind, you could leave your shorts on, couldn’t you?”

I agree, then take off all my other clothes.

I dim the lights, then invite her on the bed.

She quickly slips under the covers, letting only her head out…

I approach her, gently, make her turn towards me, and start kissing her lips again.

Shorts or no shorts, my dick is punching her belly, while my hand has already slipped under her nightgown, caressing her ass cheek.

God! She’s so tense! Her tongue responds to mine, but, somewhat, ever since my hand started touching her bare skin, in a somewhat… mechanical way.

I insist in kissing her, while massaging her buttock, but, after ten minutes, or so, I stop, taking away my hands from her.

“Now, Cynthia, it doesn’t seem to work.

Let’s do it like this. I lay on my back, and let you do to me whatever you feel like, or pleases you.”

After saying this, I put my hand under her head, caressing her hair.

It takes her more than two minutes before she decides to start caressing my chest.

After more than ten minutes, she has progressed, her hand being now on my belly.

I know that she knows where I’m expecting that hand of hers, but, as promised, I don’t rush things.

Suddenly, she turns her face towards mine, and whispers:

“Turn off the lights, completely! Will you?”

I do as I’m asked, then get back in bed.

She gently pushes away the covers, then I can feel that she raises, and starts grabbing my shorts.

I raise my ass to help her.

Soon afterwards, I can feel her hair brushing my belly, tickling me a little, but also making my dick pulsate like crazy.

But, not for long, since I can feel my dick surrounded by her boobs.

They aren’t large, but they are enough for letting her caress my dick with them, while her tongue is frantically licking my belly.

All I can tell is that I love the sensations.

I cannot keep my hands home, so that I start caressing her hair.

She probably gets it as a signal, since she’s lowering her head, starting to lick and engulf my dick.

I can tell that she’s experienced, doing a really good job, making me wonder, again, what the hell has been into that dick head of the friend of hers, to destroy her…

After ten minutes, I ask her:

“Baby, may I kiss you? Would you mind?”

She tenses, but takes my dick from her mouth, and asks:

“Don’t you want me first to go and wash my mouth?”

Dear me! So many guys acting like jerks!

“No, baby, come here!”

I embrace her, and start kissing her like there is no tomorrow, then start licking her neck, her ears, biting and sucking gently the lobes, then I stop, and start working to take off her nightgown.

She lets me do it, but I can feel that she’s tense.

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