Marketing 101

Marketing 101

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Amateur

Players: Mark McLuhan, (Cindy Sue) first year college student and marketing intern at Little Miss Muffin, Inc.; Ms. Helen Pennyworth, owner and president of Little Miss Muffin Inc.; Carol Winters Vice President of Marking for LLM; Susan Evans, Product Manager of LLM; Julie Pennyworth, sister to Helen and professional dominatrix and practicing nurse. Tracy Manchester, Mark’s School Advisor; Hazel Worthington, dress designer for LLM. Terry Weathers and Barbie Sinclair of Flash Bang Studio.

Synopsis: Little Miss Muffin has been selling upscale dresses for little girls since 1958. Sales were nearly flat last year. Ms. Pennyworth, owner and president of LMM has discovered, thanks to her sister, a new market she believes can raise those numbers again. What Ms. Pennyworth needs now is someone to help her tap into that marketing. Of course, if you’re going to start selling little girl dresses to guys, you’re going to need a guy to promote those sales? Mark, Ms. Pennyworth believes, is just that guy.

Helen Pennyworth’s introduction to business101 began in a meeting one day with her staff as she said: “If you put up a sign telling people you sell dresses, that’s called advertising! If you walk down the street wearing one of those dresses with a sign, that’s called promotions. If, as it happens, you’re a guy in that dress and walking down the street, that’s called publicity.

“If you get to explain why you are a guy wearing a dress that’s called public relations. If you can convince another guy that it’s something he should be doing, that’s called marketing. If that guy buys one of your dresses, that’s a sale.

“Lastly, if you can get a bunch of guys to buy a lot of your dresses and do so at a profit, that’s called a new business.”

Mark wasn’t there when Ms. Pennyworth gave that overview to her staff.

The story behind those words began on a Saturday just past the first few days of Spring. Mark had been asked, by Ms. Helen Pennyworth herself, to attend a meeting she was holding. The thought of attending a meeting with the owner of the company left him giddy.

“Mark! First of all thank you for coming in on such short notice and thank you as well for giving up part of your Saturday,” Ms. Pennyworth said after inviting Mark to a Danish, coffee and finally a chair.

Mark took up a Danish nervously, fixed his coffee and sat at the other end of the large conference table not quite sure why he was there. However, knowing Ms. Pennyworth and this only by reputation, he knew he’d find out soon enough. Given that Carol and Susan were there hinted that it obviously had something to do with him.

“Not a problem ma’am,” Mark said smiling cordially, if not a little nervously. He added good morning coming in and a nod to the his boss and bosses boss. He sat and waited quietly for Ms. Pennyworth. Carol Winters, his bosses boss smiled warmly as did Susan Evans his boss. Whatever it was that brought him here it was clearly important.

Mark was an intern in the marketing department starting with LMM just a month ago. A great opportunity coming after an interview that had been orchestrated by the school. Although learning to market little girl dresses and accessories wouldn’t have been Mark’s first choice it was still marketing. Fortunately, marketing, the basics of marketing at least, was generally the same no matter what the product. And, most important of all it was a pretty fair job.

“Mark! Just over a month ago, about the time you were hired as it happens, I commissioned Carol to do a study on a small but growing segment of a new market that I believe can benefit from our product line. If I am right, this market could provide us with some fairly substantial sales in the coming months. The numbers, to put it mildly, are significant or so we believe. Significant enough for consideration at least,” Ms. Pennyworth said as she buttered her own Danish.

“Yes ma’am,” Mark said curiously, reaching carefully for a pat of butter resting on a bed of ice in a stainless steel bowl. There was a hint of him participating in something important floating within Ms. Pennyworth’s words, or perhaps just a hope. An exciting kind of hope if this meant him getting in on the ground floor of something new. To do something like that would be nothing short of spectacular. Ms. Pennyworth definitely had his attention.

“Mark, up to now our dress line and accessories… it’s successes, if you will, have been the result of our focus on a very upscale little girl Sugar and Spice approach. The extremes of that concept just for the record, and for some number of years now we’ve had few competitors. In fact, since 1958 we’ve been targeting mothers of little girls who, to put this into a little context, quite literally get a lot of their thrills from our frills,” Ms. Pennyworth noted with a smile.

“Yes ma’am, I’m beginning to realize that,” Mark said smiling over Ms. Pennyworths’ slogan ‘We sell thrills with our frills’, when Ms. Pennyworth paused. Mark couldn’t help Avrupalı porno but notice that Carol and Susan were mostly passive with only a causal, almost imperceptible series of nods as Ms. Pennyworth talked. Obviously this was Ms. Pennyworth’s meeting.

“I’m glad that you understand that Mark. Frankly, at first at least, we were a bit hesitant taking a male into our business development group. Then again, it’s been working out for both of us I hope,” Ms. Pennyworth noted.

“It is for me ma’am. I mean it’s a lot of basic marketing and business development for the most part and I’m learning a lot. I’m very glad to have this opportunity,” Mark noted.

“It’s been our pleasure so far Mark. Remarkably and, as it also happens, this new market we’re looking at is nearly identical with regards to this very same concept or ours. That is to say that this market favors the thrills and frills as well. Perhaps more so which is most of the reason it has gotten my attention.

“Unfortunately Mark, traditional marketing is not going to be applicable for this market. However, we do believe that there are very specific marketing channels already in place that may work for us,” Ms. Pennyworth noted as she cut deftly, daintily into her Danish. She took a small bite and patted at the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin.

There was another pause as Ms. Pennyworth chewed her Danish. Mark, this time, only nodded as he took that opportunity and began to butter his own Danish. They were sitting on a tray over a warmer and his butter melted quickly over the fresh pastry. It made his mouth water as he took up his fork.

“Mark, our biggest issue is that this is not a traditional outlet for us. Not an outlet at all as a matter of fact, not by a long shot, so I’ve had concerns. Actually make that did have concerns till Carol provided me with a kind of overview and an idea. Frankly she’s explained a lot so far that makes this viable.

“This new market or those channels are intriguing to say the least. Intriguing and, with some amount of confidence in what Carol’s has been able to come up with, I’m prepared to push this forward to the next step and that’s where you can help,” Ms. Pennyworth said smiling.

“Me? Seriously? I mean, I’m honored ma’am! I really am! Thank you,” Mark said with enthusiasm. He’d been right! He was going to be a part of this ‘whatever this was’ and he truly was honored. He was a freshman in collage and even to be interning with a company this early on was almost unheard of. To help market a new product line or market would be nothing short of spectacular.

“I appreciate that Mark, I really do. However, don’t thank me just yet, at least not till you’ve heard it all. Frankly it could very well be more than you’re willing to take on,” Ms. Pennyworth cautioned.

Mark saw the slight frown and sensed Ms. Pennyworth’s apprehension, concern even. It could be she worried over his youth. His youth and perhaps believing his lack of experience might be a hindrance. He was desperate to get her past that. Mark felt she was on the edge of possibly deciding on a ‘no’ as easily as she might a ‘yes’.

Mark had to say something and did, “Ma’am, Ms. Pennyworth, I know I don’t have a lot of experience and I’m younger by a couple of years for most anyone in my position… ma’am, believe me when I say that if you give me the chance, I really can rise to the occation,” Mark said with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Of that I have no doubt Mark. Actually, Susan, in fact, has already convinced me of that. She’s very impressed with your work so far. However, it’s not so much you being capable of doing this as much as you’re willingness to do this,” Ms. Pennyworth said and added, “I actually believe you’re capable and only wish, right now, that I had as much confidence on that willingness.”

“Then allow me to say that I’m more than willing to do whatever is necessary to make this project a success. Whatever it takes! I mean that as well,” Mark said with conviction. If she was going to say no to him participating in this, whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be his lack of willingness.

“Great! Tell you what, hold that thought for a moment and I’ll finish the rest of this before turning it over to Carol,” Ms. Pennyworth said.

“Yes ma’am,” Mark said feeling good that he’d been able to at least convince Ms. Pennyworth to still consider him. Obviously Ms. Pennyworth wanted him specifically, but clearly she harbored doubts. Mark was not going to let this opportunity slip by.

“Mark, this is all going to sound somewhat odd so I’ll ask you first to simply trust me my reasons for asking. I will explain all of this in due time. So, first things first. Mark, have you ever heard the term: ‘Adult little girls’ or ‘adult baby girls’?” Ms. Pennyworth asked.

Mark mulled the words over trying to remember if he’d heard those terms and not sure he had. He didn’t want to sound naive, but he also Video porno wasn’t sure if he understood the context either. Adult and little girl or adult and baby girl, at first blush at least, sounded like contradictions in terms, but obviously not. Mark decided to be safe and said to her question, “No ma’am, I don’t think so, or if I’ve had, I don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s OK, because up until about eight weeks ago neither had I. To put this bluntly, there are adults, both men and women actually, who enjoy dressing up as little girls and some, to a lessor degree even as Baby Girls. A few like to dress as both and surprising as it may seem gender doesn’t seem to matter,” Ms. Pennyworth noted.

Mark sat there a little surprised and most of that over those terms being associated with males given that those terms were Little Girls and Baby Girls. Obviously, it was fetish orientated or seemed to be. If that was true then it meant clothing and that, given what had already been said, gave a little context to Ms. Pennyworth’s mention of a new market.

Given those terms and market issues, Mark was sure that his company was considering those people as a potential market. Mark, thinking about marketing and product issues, realized immediately what some of those issues could or might be. Mark hoping to score points nodded with a great deal of interest on his face.

“Your thoughts on this so far?” Ms. Pennyworth asked.

“Interesting. So the only real difference, I mean for us to sell our product into that market at least, would be mostly changing to larger sizes? I mean if these are adults and they like the styles that is,” Mark said and added, “and obviously it would mean moving away from our traditional marketing strategies.”

“That’s a very good point. Excellent! Very astute of you Mark and yes, sizes will definitely and obviously change. Remarkable, our styles do not need to. Actually, if what I’ve read so far is accurate, we shouldn’t change anything at all in regards to our styles. Those styles would, as they are now, be our greatest product strength,” Ms. Pennyworth noted happily.

Mark was thrilled that he’d caught on so quickly and that Ms. Pennyworth had noticed. He now had a context for this meeting and perhaps his role in this. Clearly Susan was going to head up or be part of this project and he, as her intern, would obviously be helping her.

Mark’s heart pounded in his chest at the thought of actually getting on the ground floor of launching a new product into a whole new market. Mark’s resume flashed across his mind. He would be miles ahead of his class mates.

Given that market or that it would be adults made it just as clear that there were manufacturing, distribution and promotional issues as Mark thought about it. Mark realized that launching a product in this market place would have significant issues for that launch to be successful. He considered some of those in silence given the nature of an adult customer base.

Mark understood just as quickly why Ms. Pennyworth didn’t want to mix that part of the business with the other part. His mind was spinning over the difficulties of such a business, but the thrill of participating had taken hold of him. He simply had to be part of this, he mused, as he worked on his Danish.

“Covert,” Mark said out loud but actually not meaning to. Mark had been thinking about the adults as a market and what difficulties might manifest themselves. One of those issues would clearly be sales and distribution. Obviously men did not shop for little girl or baby girl dresses openly. Not if they were already meant for adults. He was thinking out loud. Clearly the men and most likely women as well would need to shop discretely, covertly.

“What?” Ms. Pennyworth asked when Mark spoke that word but not adding anything else.

“Sorry! I was just thinking about what you said,” Mark answered and added, “about the uniqueness that is. Uniqueness, in this case I suppose, would really translate to some amount of secrecy… as in covertness…”

Mark paused realizing he wasn’t sure his comment worthy of the meeting at this point added, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking out loud.”

“No, please, go ahead and finish that thought,” Ms. Pennyworth said.

“Well, I’m guessing those people that do this are doing so covertly, you know, hidden? I mean they most likely are very secretive or even closeted perhaps. Like I said, I’m just thinking out loud,” Mark said cautiously, not wanting to overstep his place in this meeting.

“Excellent Mark. Mark, you’ve got a good grasp on some of the problems we might face in taking this on,” Ms. Pennyworth said and added, “As you might imagine, it would no doubt require some relatively new marketing strategies…

…obviously a lot of new channels of advertising, sales and even some new methods of distribution given that men definitely, and women most likely, are not going to want to be too public buying from us.”

“Definitely,” Mark said as he mused over the issues of a guy dressing as a little girl or baby girl. Mark was beginning to catch on. He was a guy! As he thought about it he thought about how odd it would be trying to buy clothes not meant for a guy let alone something so juvenile. Just trying to understand girl’s sizes had confused him for a time here when he first started.

Mark was the only guy in their marketing department and when he started he had no idea what most of the terms or words meant. He had to learn a lot of new stuff working here like bodice, gore, self slipped and so on. Given what he had to know he could just imagine what it might be like trying to buy just a regular dress in his size while not letting anyone know it was for him.

Mark’s forehead gave him away, wrinkling some showing that he was thinking of some of the ramifications of this as he added, “It would be a very difficult market I would imagine.”

“Yes, it would be. As you can see, there are clearly challenges here and we’re not sure of all the challenges, so yes there are some difficulties to face. Clearly, we need more research! More marketing data… Lots more and it has to be relative to both males and females but mostly those males. The reasons seem obvious, but even in this area we’re just not sure,” Ms. Pennyworth said.

“I’m not sure I follow you,” Mark said about Ms. Pennyworth comments on those reasons being obvious.

“Girls to a greater extent could buy our dresses in their sizes. A girl getting a dress, even a little girl’s dress or baby dress in the mail isn’t going to be as odd as a guy doing the same,” Ms. Pennyworth noted.

“I would say that was a given. I mean there are all sorts of difficulties. Even about how they might purchase such things let alone wear them. Sizes too since I myself had so much trouble at first,” Mark said again and of that he had no doubt. Only another guy could gather that information from a guy but then again even that might not be true. He wasn’t sure yet how he’d do that but he was now sure why he was there. He was a guy and they wanted him to do the research.

“Then, as you have obviously guessed, it’s clear… very clear that we need that information. Information we believe can only be gathered by a guy. Mark, it’s abundantly clear it’s not your typical information gathering either. Truth is we’re going to need some very unique information that goes well beyond those basic marketing questions.

“Yet, as you’ve come to know in the short time you’ve been here, we also need those basic questions answered as well. Obviously there are some odd notions and, most likely, some deeply rooted psychological forces at work here, but as customers they are going to have the same issues as any customer,” Ms. Pennyworth said.

“That’s for sure! I mean no doubt of that ma’am,” Mark said feeling more confident that he was contributing to this at last as he added, “The complexities of this could almost be daunting.”

“Exactly! That’s exactly right Mark, and I can see now why Susan likes you,” Ms. Pennyworth said and added, “so you can realize now why that research itself is going to require some extraordinary methods and, for the most part why I’ve brought this up with only a little context so far.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Mark said becoming more at ease with this conversation and glowing over the complement. It made him want to say more as he added, “you can’t ignore how odd it would be for adults to do this sort of thing in the first place. It’s pretty apparent that to understand some of the reasons behind this would be key to marketing to those people. On the other hand, it would also be Marketing 101 at some point.”

“You are right again Mark. Mark, what we really need is someone capable of first understanding those marketing basics, which you do, but more importantly we need someone willing to place themselves into these people’s lives or perhaps life style as it were. At least this part of their life style. Frankly I don’t think we can even begin to understanding those drives if we don’t know basically what it is that drive them,” Ms. Pennyworth said.

“I would say that too is also a given,” Mark said echoing Ms. Pennyworth’s comments. He was sure the information could be gathered but not sure yet how to go about it. He was getting excited over the challenges this posed and more so that he was actually being considered for part of the team. A large part of the team as he thought about it.

“I’m glad you believe that. I glad you’ve gotten a grasp of this, but from what I’ve gathered from you’re managers here so far that is pretty typical of you. Since that is the case then allow me to note the most importantly part of this and why I’ve been a little vague on some of it….”

Ms. Pennyworth paused for a time and the room went silent. She was looking at Mark but she wasn’t seeing him as if she was formulating the next part. Mark sat silently.

“Mark, it is my belief, and the consensus of both Carol and Susan, that the only way we are going to reach these people, and get data we can trust, is if we make this attempt with someone actually posing as one of them,” Ms. Pennyworth noted.

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

Mikey and the Chickadee Ch. 13

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Asian

Thanks so much, as always, for your support. Your comments mean the world to me. I always go back to read them when I’m writing new material and need a boost. Also, just a reminder that I am always trying to get new readers, so please consider sharing this story with others whom you think might enjoy it. Hope you all continue to enjoy!

*****

While lurching through my routine the next morning, I tossed around the memory of the kiss with a kind of detached amusement, as if it had been a dream, even laughing it off as I took stock of my morning appearance in the mirror. It really did feel like a dream, and that tiny beach was now a world apart from here. I had been exhausted at the time, without fully realizing it, and remembered very little of preparing for bed once Mikey dropped me off at home.

I thought about work while in the shower, then of my mom, imagining what kind of new occupation she’d be willing to take on, after having toiled for decades in the same place, much longer than I had been alive. She sewed like mad in her free time, read on it and watched videos about it. She had crafted many of her own dresses. I made my way down off the hill to catch the bus (it was a clear, sunny day, and also cold), considering that she must have deliberately avoided paid work as a seamstress for one reason or another.

It took Mikey’s absence on the second bus to force me into acceptance. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to remember. I think it was the smell of him, his quick, hot breaths and the light sweetness in the taste of his mouth, most of all, that pulled acutely at me. Thinking of these things made me ache with compulsion to feel it all over again, the roughness of his face, his tongue testing mine, his dark features closer to me than they had ever been. There was also the way he stood barely over me, so that I had to angle my head back just slightly to meet him.

But I was easily aware that in remembering so much, in wanting it to happen again, my actions and desires did not line up correctly with the path I had chosen. The circumstances were not convoluted. The factor of risk, to my mind, lay in the potential for one or both of us to be hurt when I left. It struck me as vital at this time to affix my longing to the kiss itself, to his physical body, and not to the boy-in general, to an intimacy that was only sexually charged.

It helped that Mikey wasn’t on the bus. I thought back to the nature of his appearances before we had ever spoken; he had always been either present or not, without explanation other than having simply left at a different time than I had and catching a separate bus, or driving. Maybe I could now seek relief in the fact that this aspect seemed not to have changed at all. Even after sharing our first embrace only several hours earlier, he’d made no effort to be here now, to discuss himself or his actions. And he didn’t need to be. It worked to preserve whatever small but important disassociation we still shared. I felt that holding on to that would facilitate our parting considerably.

Work that day was consuming and ordinary. I had packed lunch in an effort to save money and stood from my desk only a couple of times as the hours droned on.

“Chickadee,” Mikey texted as I departed from the first bus home, “I am so sick. Bad cold or something. I hope I didn’t give anything to you last night. I’m sorry. We should hang out when I’m better.”

“Maybe I was carrying it from my sister,” I replied. “She said she’d been sick. I’ll never forgive myself. Do you need anything? I’m nearby.”

After walking a half-block my phone buzzed again. “Don’t worry. I just need to sleep right now. We’ll catch up soon.”

As I passed his street I peered down a crowded wall of ancient buildings, making out the white metal railing of his tiny balcony and also the window next to his bed. If he looked out now it would be possible for him to spot me. I hurried on to catch the 40B.

It occurred to me that I would have gladly visited him, completely unconcerned about catching his cold. Absurdly, being sick alongside him seemed entirely pleasant; how fortunate would it be for us to quarantine ourselves from the world as we recovered? How much closer would we become? With my selfishness in check, I quickly acknowledged that Mikey should never have been sick in the first place, and I should be happy to give him the solitude he desired to ride it out.

I contacted Marie at lunch the next day, asking if she had plans after work. “I am on a budget,” I added.

Her reply floated in sometime around two. “Darling, do you need a sugar daddy? Come live with me. I can be that for you.”

“I don’t need that,” I texted. “Mostly I just need to talk. Is it rude to invite myself over?”

“Perish the thought. I’ll be on the train home around five. Please come.”

A few hours later I found her standing underground at the city-center station, blue shoes pressed together, near the edge of the platform.

She reached up and hugged me. “Just got here. I was hoping we would Uzun porno catch the same train.”

Soon we were swept up in a tepid and stale wind as three cars came moaning and squealing through the tunnel. When the doors opened Marie hustled through to the gangway, freely pushing her way between passengers. I followed her lead.

“I need to stand, if you don’t mind,” she said, grabbing ahold of a metal bar at the edge of the rubber corridor.

“I don’t mind at all,” I said. “I’ve been sitting all day.”

“It’s terrible,” she said. “The fucking man…making you and me sit all day.” She regarded me with terrible concern. “And he’s making you move away.”

I nodded.

“Oh, Wyatt. Tell me you decided not to go.”

“I confirmed with them, on Friday. It’s already set in stone. I’m sorry.”

She flitted her free hand dismissively. “Please stay with me when you visit home, okay? Don’t stay out with your parents. What person ever really needed parents, anyway? Parents are complete bullshit, Wyatt.”

I stared at her blankly across the narrow passage, then settled into a quiet, prolonged laugh.

“What?” A broad smile took over. “They are. I’m telling you.”

“What’s Sloan up to?”

“Same as us, I’m sure. We texted a little yesterday. Working hard for the money. Chasing love.”

I cleared my throat a little. “That does sound familiar. And are you having any luck in your pursuit?”

“Pursuit? Of love, you mean? Not at all. There’s nothing. No sex, either, which might be the bigger tragedy of my life at the moment.”

“You and Anthony are finished forever?”

“Forever. We haven’t said a word to each other. Not even a text.”

“And that’s the way you want it, right?”

She looked at me intensely for a second and then said, “Almost all of the time, yes.”

I nodded to indicate that I understood.

“It’s not him that I miss,” she said. “It’s just…you know. I’m not totally built to be alone. I wish I was. I’m sure you understand.”

“I think I said something very similar to you when we were still in school.”

“You did,” she said. “It stuck with me. That’s not to say I am unhappy right now. I’m really feeling quite fulfilled, for the most part. Food is my intimate companion. That and looking forward to travel.”

I smiled. “If I had to, I could be alone for the rest of my life, as long as I travelled the world and ate good food.”

“Now you’re getting it,” she said.

Such was the topic of discussion for the remainder of the train ride, and even until after we had entered her condo. Together we laid down an intricate, imaginary brickwork of plans pertaining to our activities when visiting certain countries. There were, for example, particular vietnamese dishes we would be seeking out. Eventually we acknowledged that the discussion was all but invalid without Sloan’s input.

“It’s not fair to him,” said Marie. “We have to stop. Put your coat in here.” She pointed through her bedroom doorway, toward her bed. “I hate it when you wear it around like you aren’t staying long. Here, give it to me.” She reached up and lifted it off of my shoulders. “I should be checking to see if there’s any black hair stuck to this,” she muttered, laying it on her bed. “What the hell is happening with Thai Guy?”

“With Mikey.”

“Right. What the hell is happening with Mikey?”

As she went over to make us drinks I let her in on a few basic developments, mostly to do with his own self-discovery.

“It’s a good sign that he’s willing to take such an honest look at himself,” she said. “That kind of thing is never as common as you hope.”

She set my glass in front of me and I thanked her. “Seriously,” I said, “he’s got to be one of the most genuine and interesting people I’ve ever met.”

“And hot.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Most importantly, that.” I took a sip of the clear drink as she joined me at her narrow kitchen table. Outside the sky threatened to rain down on the streets far below.

“Actually…” I began, planning to launch right into a brief but careful retelling of Sunday night’s event. Instead I came right out with it. “He kissed me. On Sunday night, in a very romantic way. I’m not sure what to think about that.”

Marie covered her mouth with part of her hand but I could see a gigantic smile forming behind it. With some effort she composed herself enough to take a long drink, then set down her glass. “Are you glad that it happened?”

“I can’t help but be,” I said. “I’m starting to really, really like him, Marie.”

“A kiss,” she said, sort of to herself. “A romantic kind of kiss. Wow. That was really unexpected coming from him, right?”

“Well, yeah. He told me not long ago that he could never kiss a guy. I didn’t think he would ever want any kind of romantic involvement.” After a pause I said, “We were supposed to be friends with benefits. That’s all.”

She shrugged. “How long do you think those kinds of relationships really last? It’s only so long Öğrenci porno before they die, either because they turn into something more, or one person involved finds someone else.”

“I guess I thought it might just continue that way, especially since I’m moving. As in, we’d mess around with each other when I visited home and that’s it.”

“Yeah, I see how that might have worked for a while with you moving away. And I don’t mean that those relationships represent a bad decision, like, inherently, as long as both parties recognize that they’re unsustainable. But all of that aside, as far as fuck-buddy status is concerned, the two of you were doomed from the beginning.”

“What makes you say that?”

She paused. “I mean, look at you. You’re obviously too good together for something like that. I swear, you’re meant for each other.”

For an instant I shook internally with alarm. “You haven’t even met him, Marie.”

“No, but I know you pretty well, Wyatt. You don’t act this way for just anybody. You’ve slept with a few guys since your last relationship and none of them had you waiting by your phone-or seeing their face in a crowd when they aren’t actually there. You’re acting like a crazy person, and I like it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate you,” I said. “I fucking hate all of this.”

She laughed along with me. “Why? I want to be you right now. I want someone to make me feel that way.”

“Really?” I asked. “You want to start falling for someone just as you’re moving away? That sounds appealing to you?”

She quieted down, still smiling and poking at a submerged ice cube with her finger. “Maybe. It could be. Anyway, it’s better than what I have going on right now, which is nothing.”

“Alright, if you’re sure about that.”

“I am.”

“So,” I announced. “I come to you seeking your advice. I will hear it, no matter what it is. How do you think I should proceed, given that I am leaving town at the end of the month?”

“I think you should forget that you’re leaving, as far as he is concerned.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes,” she said. “Just do it all. Live it all. If you’re dying to fall for him, then let yourself.”

“Honestly, that sounds reckless to me.”

She nodded, smiling.

“If either of us-or maybe both of us-is really going to get hurt at the end, I’m worried I couldn’t handle it. I’m worried it might keep me from leaving.”

“Isn’t that the point?” she asked. “Your job has all the control over where your life is going. Your employer, I should say. I don’t think that’s healthy. Let this boy situation have some of that control. Let it have all of its weapons. Then they can do battle with one another properly. At the end you’ll find out which one prevails, and you can know in your mind that each had a fair shot.”

I stared at her for a moment and then took another drink. “It just sounds so reckless,” I repeated.

She continued to smile at me.

“There’s no mindfulness involved. It’s like setting up all the conditions for an science experiment, and then letting it run its course. That’s how you’re making it sound. Is that all life is? Just a set of experiments?”

“Yes, Wyatt, it is.”

I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like something from a movie.”

“Obviously I don’t live like that all the time, but sometimes I do, with some aspects of my life. I’m saying to you that you should, right now, based on everything that’s going on with you.”

I paused. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Just try. That’s my advice, okay?”

I nodded. “I asked. And I said I would hear you.”

“You did.”

We didn’t say anything for a moment, just sipped silently on our drinks until hers was gone and mine dwindled.

“Are we alcoholics?” she finally asked.

“Yes,” I assured her. “Damn it, Marie, one problem at a time.”

Our discussion eagerly shed its grave colors as it marched on into dinner. Marie shared with me leftovers from her refrigerator. I left just as the sky grew completely dark, thanking her for everything and promising that we would meet again soon.

The next day I stood up at my desk not long after noon, stretched and left for the break room. Jennifer joined me after a few minutes.

“I’m following your lead,” she said. “You’re not the only one who knows how to pack a lunch.”

I smiled at her. The company culture tended toward eating out every day, leaving the lounge area and kitchen surprisingly unburdened, considering the number of employees among whom they were shared.

“I have a question for you,” she said, smacking a container of yogurt down on the table’s rubbery surface and returning to the fridge. “Do you have a strong preference for living alone once we’re in Fern Hill?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Now that you mention it, not at all.”

“There are a lot of two-bedrooms available up there. Who knows why. The rent is only slightly higher than the one-bedrooms. I think it only makes sense to share one.”

“You’re talking about you and me, right? Because I don’t think I’d share with anyone else in the office.”

“I’m touched,” she said.

“Sure. Let’s do it. Shit, maybe this will motivate me to finally look for a place.”

“We can look this afternoon,” she said. “We’ll sneak it in.”

That it might seem desperate did not not cross my mind until after I texted Mikey on my way to the first bus home. This concern was fleeting, as it felt strange and unfitting when filtered through our friendship.

“You feeling well enough for me to come by on my way home?” I had written.

“Sure,” he replied. “I would like to see you. I’ll leave the door unlocked. If I’m in the shower when you get here then let yourself in.”

Mikey answered the door, not long after I knocked, wearing only a towel. His hair was still damp. The broad, soft tract of his chest glowed in the yellow light from the hallway.

“You haven’t been sick,” I said. “You’ve been working out.”

He summoned a weak smile and welcomed me in. “I can promise you that’s not true.”

“Has it been really bad? How are you feeling now?”

He shrugged. “I’m getting some energy back. I haven’t thrown up since yesterday.”

“Mikey,” I said. “That sounds bad. I could have brought something. Do you have everything you need?”

“That’s really thoughtful, but please don’t worry about me. Are you sure you’re okay here? What if I’m still contagious?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I think you should get more rest. I won’t stay long.”

He shrugged again. “You can sit down if you want. Tell me what’s going on with the outside world.”

“Not too much, really,” I said. I took a seat on the couch and he went over by his dresser to put on clothes. I did not watch him. “My coworker and I picked out an apartment in Fern Hill today.”

“Really? Were you up there?”

“No, just online, I mean. Sight-unseen, except for pictures.”

“I thought you’d be living alone when you got there, for some reason.” He came to slump down opposite me.

“I was,” I said, “but it’s much cheaper to share rent on a two-bedroom.”

“Oh, okay.”

He did not look completely recovered. Our eyes met for a few seconds.

“I talked to Sophie,” he said. “I had to, I mean, to tell her that I wouldn’t be at work. Maybe it was better that I was feeling so shitty. I didn’t have the energy to even think it over. Everything came out. I just said it all.”

“Really?”

“Well, first I said I was sorry for how I had reacted when she confronted me. But yeah, you and me fooling around, my attraction to guys, all of it. How I’m starting to…um…” He paused. “Well, whatever made me kiss you the other night. I told her about that, too.”

“How did she react to all of it?”

“I could tell she was ridiculously happy about it,” he said. “But I think she tried not to show that too much.”

“Okay.”

“She’s been doing a lot of stuff for me,” Mikey said slowly, “especially over the last few days. I’m not sure how I can pay her back.”

“Is your business doing okay with you gone?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. She told me it’s not too much to handle.” He smiled. “She said it’s better with me out of the way.”

“She’s probably just happy you opened up to her.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think that’s true.”

We didn’t talk for a moment. Mikey lifted his feet up onto the couch and faced me.

“I’m fine with talking about Sunday night, by the way,” he said. “How are you feeling about it?”

“The kiss, you mean? It’s fine. I’m okay with it.”

“Alright,” he said. “So you’re saying…that kind of thing…it’s alright with you if we just let it happen?”

I thought back to Marie’s advice from the day before. “If we both want it, and I think we do, then yes, I want to just go with it.”

Mikey’s eyes let go of some of the dull grayness which had so far weighed them down. “Okay. That sounds good to me, too.”

At the risk of annoying him, I asked again if I could do anything for him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing that doesn’t require a lot of contact. And I don’t want you to get sick, too.”

I laughed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I’m kidding. Honestly, if you would play Playstation with me, that would make me happy. Just a few races.”

Despite his ailment, Mikey won one after another, until finally after five or six, I edged past him in the final lap.

“Get the fuck out,” he said, grinning. “I won’t be insulted in my own home.”

“I should leave on a positive note anyway. It’s better for my self-esteem.”

“No,” he protested, realizing I did actually intend to leave. “You can’t go.”

“You need sleep,” I said. “You’ll never get better.”

“I will,” he said. “I have a strong immune response.”

“Prove it,” I said, standing. “Anyway, I’m meeting with my parents this evening. Tax season is upon us.”

“You’re helping them with taxes,” he said, remaining slouched down in the cushions. “That’s really sweet.”

“It’s not that big a favor,” I said. “Theirs are pretty basic.” I put on my coat. “Get some rest, okay? Don’t go back to work until you’re ready.”

“How about we do something Friday night, if I’m feeling better?”

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

Manisha’s First Girdle

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Anal

I first met Manisha Dudhe on the eve of her wedding, when she and her intended husband had met to perform pre-marriage puja with the village pujari; the Hindu priest. She was 19 and the man was a boy really, of barely 20, with the illustrious name of Shivaji. Dudhe became her married name and it was a cause for mirth since it means “milk” in the local dialect. The entire village of Talapuri in Maharashtra turned up to witness their prayers and to pass comment on their appearances. It was not an affluent or influential gathering, but full of pride and tradition. Men young and old watched her without touching, of course, and wondered about the milk that would come from her magnificent breasts in due course, and they envied the young Shivaji.

Manisha was a great beauty and a prized daughter in a community where sons are preferred before girls, even if they are worthless and stupid. But Manisha certainly was a great beauty and everyone said so. She was fairer in her complexion than anyone else in her family since Aji, her mother’s mother, who died many years earlier. I remember thinking how fortunate her new husband would be to take to his bed such a beauty; and so innocent, to be taught the ways of love and affection if he had the wit and the knowledge himself. Which I doubted but wished them both well.

Ten years passed before I saw her again, and I heard meantime that Shivaji had died young, leaving her pregnant. I didn’t know the details but there many sicknesses at that time, in that place, that could have claimed him. TB, typhoid and polio were endemic then and malaria, of course. So, one day, as I visited my friends again in the big bungalow at Talapuri, there she was in the lane with a child of about 9 years beside her. There was occasional work for her and others at the bungalow; mainly mending clothes and such things. My host and his wife gave work out of a sense of responsibility for their poorer neighbours, since he practiced as a chartered accountant in the nearest city and his wife was a publisher’s illustrator. She ran her business by post in those days, and would do so via the Net today. But this was before the Net came into ordinary homes; when it was top secret in academic and military circles.

Manisha looked older but still outstandingly beautiful. Her features and her figure had hardly changed since she was the girl I remembered. If there was on feature of her appearance that always struck me first, it was her waist and the curve over her hips. And so it was still. Her saree tightened onto her figure in the local style, showed the very curve that drew my eyes so many years before. And her blouse [choli] showed off her tidy midriff, with none of the flabby spread of so many Indian women in their late 20s. She looked delectable and I began to imagine her with me, in my bed, doing the things I would show her, and with me pleasing her the best ways I could.

Nothing could happen for some weeks, since my hosts were always about the house and I did not wish to embarrass them by entertaining my own little predilections. But the day came when they were away for the week, and I was left alone with just the housekeeper and gardener during the day and the faithful golden Labrador bitch named Daisy at night. I determined to know Manisha then, if I could, and made quick plans. And so it happened.

At the end of a day, she was finishing her work in one of the rooms, re-sewing the linings to one of the curtains, which had become frayed during the periodic pest control spraying visitations. I watched her through a slightly-open door as she gathered her things together and stood up from the cross-legged position in which she had worked. She walked towards the door and I hid myself to one side of the frame. As she came through I spoke her name, softly, not as an instruction which she may have expected. She turned towards me and smiled, with her head on one side slightly, as if asking a silent question in the Indian way. I stretched out my right hand towards her and she looked at her own hands, wondering what I was reaching for. I took hold of the sewing box she had, and the little bundle of fabrics for patching, and took them away from her. She was so taken by surprise that she didn’t try to stop me; she just looked straight at me with the same query on her face. I put the things to one side, on a small cupboard and she watched every movement.

Then I reached again and took hold of her left hand; a gesture not common in India even among married couples since the right hand is preferred for all contact. She tried momentarily to withdraw her hand but I held her firmly, and pulled her gently towards me. She made no sound; her eyes looked straight into mine; she let her hand come towards me and then her arm and then one small step. I knew the ice had been broken and I smiled gently and leaned my head to one side, as she had done, as if to say, “Yes? — No? — Maybe? — come with me?” She smiled back and lowered her eyes at the same time, signalling Avrupalı porno her lack of readiness for the situation, and to show a proper modesty. By now she was close to me and I reached out my left hand to hold her waist and pull her towards me, again with only the gentlest pressure on her hip. She put her right hand on mine and thought she was about to lift it away from her, but she didn’t. She held my hand in contact with the shapely right hip and waist, but still with eyes downcast, and smiling secretly to herself. Clearly, she knew what was happening and was content to let more happen in the near future.

Slowly, I walked backwards into the opposite room: my bedroom and she followed with her left hand in my right, and her right hand on my left, on her waist. We were only two or three inches apart. She matched my steps and slowly came into my room with eyes still down and still smiling mysteriously to herself, although I could see it for myself. Then the situation began to unfold as I had planned.

I undid the buttons of my shirt, and shook it off my shoulders. She raised her eyes and saw the hairs and the remains of my once-creditable muscular chest. She raised her eyes further and smiled directly into my mine. I reached out again and tugged a little on the shawl she wore over her shoulder, and she made the same gesture, shrugging it off to the marble floor. I undid my belt and the top restraining button of my cream trousers, but did not make a gesture to remove more clothes at this stage. I reached out to the four buttons fastening her choli, the short blouse with its little sleeves and bare midriff. She stopped my hand and, for a moment, I imagined she was about to cancel the whole event. But no; she raised her own hands, whilst still looking into my eyes, and undid all four buttons, before lowering her hands and leaving the choli open across her breasts. She wore no bra under the blouse, and I gently lifted it from her shoulders and let it drop down her arms slightly behind her body. I moved slowly round behind her and she realised for the first time that I had a mirror behind me, so that she was now looking directly at herself with bare breasts. Her eyes dropped again but she made no movement of escape or even of real awkwardness. From behind her, I reached to her head and gently held her hair, raising her eyes to look into the mirror, and smiled a very open and near-laugh into her reflection. He laughed a little feminine chuckle to me in return.

I reached through under her arms and held her breasts; one in each hand, like ripe melons but so soft and yielding. Then one hand relaxed its hold and went to my trousers. I let the zipper all the way down, so that my slacks fell to my ankles. I stepped out of them, still hiding behind her, and stood there with a raging erection in my black briefs, although she could not see all that. I fumbled with the front tie of her saree, hoping that it would come undone easily, but it was not to happen. She reached under the top edge and undid a pin, which let the front loop of cloth fall away. I was expecting a long swathe of fabric and slowly unwrapped it from around her, walking round to her front and then behind. A number of times I needed to do this until she stood there wearing only a pair of pale brown shorts. She raised her hands to cover her nipples from my gaze although we both knew it was a gesture of cultural modesty rather than a real attempt to hide herself from me.

Still slowly, I walked her towards my little bathroom until we both stood in the door and she could see my preparations. There was the bucket of warmed water with its handled scoop, a dish of soft soap, a number of hand towels, and a great big bath square as long and as wide as she was tall. The window fan was running and a cooler breeze was being drawn through my rooms. Taking the lead, I reached down and took off my briefs and moved towards the bucket. My erection stood out like a flag, indicating my desires and intentions. We smiled at each other and our eyes wrinkled in a grin of friendship as well as pleasure. I took a scoop of warm water and poured it down my front from chest to groin; and another from the middle of my back to my thighs. I dipped a finger full of the liquid soap and washed quickly all my lower regions and carefully between my legs and thighs. Cleanliness was going to be an important feature of our time together.

Reaching out my hand, I intended to motion her towards the water and her own washing, but I needn’t have made any gesture. She stepped forward and took off her own shorts. She was so lovely. Her skin was a pale bronze, with small areas of olive shading around her groin, in the creases under breasts and under her arms. Her skin was like alabaster and she moved gracefully like a fashion model in Europe, but entirely natural and innocent of any tricks of such a trade. I passed her a scoop of water and she washed herself as I had done.

So far, everything Video porno I had planned had worked out just fine, and she seemed not to be surprised at all; and certainly not alarmed by my actions. I had a feeling that the next stage might give her some pause for thought, or even a moment of panic, but determined to go on regardless. I have for many years harboured a distinct yearning for women dressed in very firm underwear, such as corsetry, leather and thick rubber. I have been fortunate enough to experience all my yearnings at one time or another, and this day I had a special desire in mind. My erection was maintained by the plan and I looked forward to the moment when all my desire could be satisfied with this beautiful Indian lady.

As we dried ourselves, I led her wrapped in the big square towel towards my double bed. She walked confidently and easily in my gentle embrace and I helped her complete the drying of her delightful body. I took the towel from her and draped it over a chair, and led her to the bedside. She began to bend as if to climb into the bed but I held both her hands and placed them over her eyes. I pressed them slightly to her face, as if to signify, “Keep your eyes closed.” I said softly, “Ho-na?” and she replied, “Ho”, meaning “Yes.” She kept her eyes covered.

I reached under the thin bed cover and took out the four items in which I intended to dress her this evening, before taking my pleasure with her. The first was a white long bra which I hoped would be the correct size at 36D: a Triumph Doreen Midi. I stood behind her and took one hand down from her eyes, leaving the other doing its job of keeping them shut. I passed the bra over her arm and lifted it into place under one breast. Then I replaced that hand and took the other. She was quicker than I thought and readily helped me get the bra into place, containing both breasts and nicely nestled into her ribs. At that point, I think her experience of lingerie ran out. She had never even seen such a bra, I don’t think. Slowly I fastened the eight hooks at the back and then adjusted it into place to hold her breasts and to press nicely down into her waist. It was not the cuff-waist style, but the slightly shorter one and it fitted her height perfectly. And the cups fitted better than I could have planned even if I had measured her first. I pressed the hands to her face again and said, “Ho?”. She replied the same and her eyes remained covered.

Next, I thought this item may raise more of a problem with her and took it in my hands with some anxiety. It was a classic vintage girdle made by the English Twilfit company; style CT45. It was white, high waisted, a sarong style cross-over at the bottom front edge, a zip fastener over a row of hooks on the left hip, and six suspenders. It was boned at the front, over the abdomen, at the sides from the hip bones upwards, and at the centre back to prevent it rolling over. The front panel with three bones was quite rigid and I knew it would hold her firmly in place, whatever I managed with her in movements and positions.

I knelt down in front of her and lifted one foot, just an inch or two from the cool marble floor, and slip the girdle under it, and lifted it slightly up her calf. Then I replace that foot on the floor and tapped the other. She seemed to sense what to do, and raise it a little, but not enough now that the girdle was somewhat higher than for the first foot. I took one hand from her eyes and placed it on my shoulder as I was kneeling, to steady her as I lifted the second foot a little further. Thus the girdle was loosely placed on both her calves and I contemplated how to lift it into place, before doing up the hooks and closing the zipper.

Kneeling up in front of her, I took hold of the girdle either side of the waist and slowly moved it up her legs, and onto her thighs. She made a little mewing sound and I could tell that this was new to her and was a surprise, but I persevered with my pulling and a little tugging. It was going to be a tight fit on her, I could tell. This girdle was the smallest made in the CT45 range, with a waist of 26 inches, and I had no idea what her waist actually measured. She made the mewing sound again and I looked up at her face. She was peering down at me and the girdle through her open fingers. I smiled and she just looked at me. Her expression said, “What are you doing to me?” I took one hand and kissed it gently on the palm. She smiled. I brought both her hands down to the front edge of the girdle and took myself to the back. Taking the rear part of the top edge, I started to pull upwards and she did so at the front without my urging her. Slowly the girdle moved into position on her abdomen, with the front suspenders correctly placed, and the zip fastener wide open, waiting for me to do up the hooks and eyes. I could tell from her expression again that she was surprised and becoming a little doubtful as she realised that this garment had yet to be closed onto her figure.

Moving to her left side, I started to hook up the gap. The first hook took a little stretching of the girdle to make the closure. The second took more pressure, and the last one required me to pull very hard so that her body shook with the sudden force. But then the hooks were complete and I moved the zipper up into place, covering them all and giving her the perfect waistline and hip outline. This young woman had the figure of a 1950s film star in the person of a simple and untutored girl of the jungle, with a sex appeal hardly any film star could imagine.

The suspenders were sticking out from the bottom edge of the girdle, and I checked again that their positions were right. I also noticed how the edge just tucked under her bottom at the back and left her little furry mound visible at the front. Those Twilfit people certainly knew how to make alluring foundation wear. I reached for the remaining items of my collection: a pair of firm support Lycra stockings by Aristoc – the very latest style and material at the time, and very supportive. Again the size was a guess and I seemed to have been lucky. To get these onto her, I led her to the bed and sat her down on the edge. Se realised for the first time how the girdle was going to control her figure during our time together. Sitting in it was not just a matter of sitting down; she had to adjust her stance a little and also part her legs because of the pressure on her groin and bottom, pressing them both together. As quickly as I could, I brought both stockings up to her knees and onto her thighs before standing her up and completing the outfit. She was now breathing heavily and pressed her hands on her ribs, into her waist, over her abdomen and down her thighs, and over her bottom. She was utterly contained in this corsetry, and her face showed a mixture of surprise, anxiety and also pleasure.

I took her over to the long mirror and showed her to herself. She smiled and ran her hands all over her newly shaped and controlled figure. Especially, she let her hands linger over her flat tummy and around her tightened waist. She even made the typical tight-waist gesture of holding her waist between finger and thumb on each hand to see how far round she could reach. Her smile got wider and she made a little “Mmm” sound. She looked amazing and I joined her with my own hands, feeling her body through the corsetry. Tracing the outlines and the positions of the bones; feeling at the tightness over her ribs and under her bottom. My fingers and palms lingered over her flattened abdomen and onto her little mound, and then resumed my overall investigation of the smoothness, the firmness, and the control that I could feel over every millimetre of her body.

Taking her to the bed, I helped her lie down on her back and joined her there. I kissed her shoulder and then her cheek and then fully on her lips. She seemed unused to this show of affection and clearly had little experience of kissing a man for pleasure. But she warmed to it and within a minute had her lips widely parted as I explored her mouth with my tongue, and we played a little game with touching tongues and parting and then touching again.

Reaching down, I parted her legs a little more and reached for her labia with my middle finger. She was wet; she was pouring with moisture; her lips and her vagina were slippery to my touch and I played on her clitoris for a few moments. She mewed again and closed her eyes, so I decided to please her in this way for as long as I could. I played on her with my hand and placed a finger inside her from time to time, gauging the effect and trying to discover what she would like for her pleasure. I soon realised that she wanted constant clitoral stimulation, but not too fast and not with pressure, and occasional dipping into the wet pool of her labia and vagina. I think this process took ten minutes until I was sure of the rhythm and she began to respond; which she did with a huge sigh and a whimper. She closed her legs around my hand and I left it there without movement until she relaxed and let it fall out, so to speak.

She looked up at me and touched my face. I kissed her mouth again and she clung to me with both arms around my head. After a short time she relaxed further and lay back with her eyes closed. Now it was my turn. I ran my hands up and down her corsetry again, feeling at the seams, the bones over her abdomen, the taut bottom edge between the front suspenders, the flat firmness over her midriff and waist. Above her waist she was doubly held by the long bra as well as the girdle over it. She was quite rigid below her breasts and down into her waist. I parted her legs a little and slowly moved myself until I was lying partly on her, and resting on one elbow on the bed beside her. I kissed her shoulders and felt the Doreen straps, the little adjusting buckles and the seams running over the cups and down under the girdle. I could still feel them on my lips even thought they were held firmly under the Twilfit. The corsetry felt wonderful and her firm, contained little body inside held such promise for me. In my mind, I had a plan for my pleasure which I knew may alarm her but I pressed on anyway.

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

Dark Room

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Blonde

Most Asian families are large and closely knit. Even after moving to the United States, (which we did when I was about 5 years old), we maintained close contact with our uncles and aunts. As time passed, many of them moved here as well which was a great source of relief for my parents – they had always wanted to have their extended family as close to them as possible.

Our uncles and aunts got married and had children at different times. My dad married before any one else did among her peers, and as a result, my siblings and I are older than our other cousins. Our families stayed tight and visited each other frequently. There were numerous sleepovers and we always traveled to other cities where our cousins were settled.

Being older (and in some cases much older) than our other cousins, my sister and I often had to baby-sit them whenever the elders decided to have an outing of their own, or left us kids in the house together for extended periods of time when they went to work during our family visits. Both my sis and I were in college now, but lived at home. Our house was in suburban Amherst, Mass., and traveling to Tufts University wasn’t a problem at all. Besides, my dad had a teaching job there and he didn’t want us to attend any other university. Since ours was the most affluent family amongst our extended relatives, we often had visitors to our house either asking for help or guests just staying over since they happened to be in the state or somewhere close by.

My sis and I never complained about being around children. We had grown up to be responsible kids and had babysat all our teenage years. I always had a special knack for becoming a child among children. Acting way too young for my age, I often played games with them and behaved like I belonged to the age group of the kids I was supposed to be looking after. My sister was the serious one, however. Maybe because she was older and more responsible, or maybe just because she was a girl. Girls tend to be more responsible and mature for their age than guys (although that’s not always the case I am sure). She was also more career-oriented – working towards a law degree. And as for myself? Well, let’s just say my major was undecided at the time.

So needless to say that even though she didn’t mind staying at home with the visiting kids and myself, she didn’t really get involved with any games which I played with the kids. I should add that this is not a case in which a sister lusts after her brother secretly and then they have wild sex. My sister and I have always been mature and usually carried ourselves pretty well. Sometimes though a chain of events takes place in ways that people have no control over and as they let the chips fall where they may, things always get how they weren’t supposed to be. This is just one of those stories.

One hot summer, my paternal uncle’s family came over to stay at our house for the entire period their children were out of school. This uncle was my dad’s younger brother and was settled somewhere on the West coast. I don’t remember exactly where he was during those days – he moved up and down the gold coast so much I lost track of where his family was at what times. So his wife and 3 kids decided to spend the summer with our family while he traveled to Asia for business. My dad was always out working. My sis and I were home since none of us took any classes during the summer. All of our friends from the university had gone back to their homes and we were stuck with our family. It was almost like we thought of the guests as a welcome vacation from the boredom. My mom and sister would spend time with the lady while I hung out and played with the kids. We played all sorts of games which kids like to play, all in good innocent fun. Hide and seek though was our favorite.

Apparently the visiting kids had invented their own version of hide and seek which they called ‘dark room.’ One person had to count to a hundred while the others found places to hide around the house. Then the person had to find those who were hiding before anyone hit them on their back and yelled “caught you!” If they found everyone without being caught in the back, someone else took their place. And if they got “caught”, they had to wait, count again and look for the ones who were hiding. It was pretty exciting, and during the bland summer months, when no one had anything better to do, it was particularly enjoyable. We would crank up all the air conditioners in the house and play dark room. As the name suggests, all lights would have to be turned off, the curtains had to be drawn to close and no windows would be left open. Of course this game was impossible to play while the adults were home. But whenever my mom and the visiting aunt went out, we always played dark room. My sister usually went out with the ladies and I had fun playing the game with the kids.

About two weeks before the visitors were about to leave, they decided to visit our other relatives in the area. It was really hot and humid outside and Uzun porno my sister decided to stay home. She wasn’t very fond of visiting our relatives. The only times she actually went out was when the ladies would go shopping and buy her stuff. The kids were happy that they had an extra partner to play ‘dark room’ with but my sister wasn’t really excited about the game. After much convincing, she gave in however, and we all had a good time.

This became a sort of a routine. Whenever the adults went out, my sister Nisha would join us for dark room. Obviously we knew our house better than the visiting kids did so we always did great in the game. None of the three kids could ever find me and Nisha. We would hide behind the curtains, crawl under our parents’ bed or sometimes just hide in strategic corners where it was easier to “catch” the kid looking for us. Pretty soon, however, the kids got smarter and they discovered all of our hiding places. As a result, Nisha and I found ourselves to be the hunters more often and we got caught more often too! But I was having none of this. I had to outsmart these little rascals!

One day as we were playing the game and the kid Rahul (the 14 year old and the slickest one) was counting to 100, I was having a really hard time finding a viable place to hide. Suddenly an idea struck my head. There was a big wall unit in our living room. It held most of our electronics – our TV, the VCR (that was it as far as hi-fi gadgets went in the late 80s), and a tape deck with some audio cassettes. There was an entrance door right next to it which opened inside the living room, right into the wall unit. “What a perfect place!” I thought to myself. It made total sense. It was an ideal place to “catch” the kid as he was entering the dark room looking for me and no one else had thought of it yet. The only problem was that the space between the door and the unit was really small and I didn’t think I could squeeze in there. Still it was worth a shot. I could hear Rahul count loudly,

“81, 82, 83…”

With the speed he was counting with, he would be in the room any minute and I would be a dead duck! I had to act fast. Without much thinking, I ran towards the space between the door and the living room. I suddenly remembered my mom kept a folded up rug in that little space which she brought out whenever we had guests over. “Ahh screw the rug, I will just throw it on the floor.” Thinking this, I started to move towards my would-be hiding place.

“91, 92, 93, 94…I am almost dooooneee!” screamed Rahul.

“Friggin’ kid….” I thought to myself and stumbled towards the space in the dark, finding my way with my hands against the wall.

“99, 100!” Rahul yelled, “I am coming inside the dark room to get you all!”

I had no time left to take the rug out now. If I threw it on the floor, he would notice it before entering the room and catch me. I had to somehow squeeze myself in the little space with the rug. I had no other choice. I tiptoed towards what I thought was enough space for me and tried to fit myself in.

I couldn’t see anything in the dark. Rahul was now getting closer to the door. He had already “captured” Sanjeev, his little brother. Bragging and cheering loudly about his quick first victory, Rahul was now looking for me, Nisha and his other brother and he sounded certain we were all hiding in the living room.

“Here I come…” he announced.

I hurriedly for the rug. I wanted to flatten it against the wall somehow so I could squeeze in. My hands were about waist high as I stumbled into the space. But I tripped on something and fell forward.

“Omph…” I grunted and barreled into what I thought was the rug, to get enough of a grip on it to prevent myself from hitting my head on the wall. Curving my hand upwards, I tried to hold the rug, but felt something really soft. That was no rug! I had broken my fall and was now twisted backward toward the person in the space.

What I had hit was not a rolled up rug in the corner of the wall unit! And I didn’t realize it until I felt a soft protruding bubble like object pressing me on my back. Needless to say it was a human being’s boob. It had to be my own sister’s tit! None of the kids were playing with was older than 12 and they were all boys!

My hand had accidentally hit exactly on the pussy area of her crotch. The thin Indian pajamas she was wearing did cover the body entirely but were very easily penetrable. My index finger had actually cupped her pussy and being the man that I was, without thinking, I had actually rubbed the lips a little bit before coming to my senses and realizing what I had done!

What had amazed me was that she hadn’t moved one bit. She didn’t even try to retract her pussy from where my hand was. Of course a girl’s natural reaction would as follows: 1. move back, and 2. rudely reject the guy’s hand away. And she had done neither. Maybe she was just too shocked by what had happened, or maybe she didn’t consider it such Öğrenci porno a big deal and just remained calm.

“Nah that can’t be,” I remember myself thinking. There is no way she could have ignored a full hand cupping her pussy for a good 5 seconds, rubbing it twice and then moving away nervously. That was just too offensive and too rude for a guy to do to a girl. And on top of that, she was my sister! I had no intention of pinning her in a corner like that and doing what I had done on purpose. It was totally accidental.

I moved my hand away immediately. Yes I had moved my hand away for the fear of angering her, but she hadn’t even moved an inch! She hadn’t even retracted her boob which was now pressing hard on my back. I always thought my sister to be kind of asexual, as in nothing sexual affected her (she had never dated). Besides she was my sister and I had never thought of her that way. I had a steady girlfriend in college and a nice and fulfilling relationship with that girl. I didn’t know how my sister could ignore a full hand cupping her pussy and just act normal. Maybe she was just too stunned and just totally wanted to ignore it; pretending it never happened. It would be too embarrassing a subject for her to bring up. How would she word it? “Raj why did you touch me there? Move your hand!” No way. She could never have possibly said it. So I came to a conclusion that she just wanted to pretend it never happened. She figured if she acted like nothing had happened, dismissing it as just accidental contact and changing the subject, everything would be normal. But I was a guy. It’s different for guys.

Guys take every little sexual hint to be a big deal. She probably thought if she didn’t move at all and pretended I really hadn’t touched anything private of hers, I would think the same. Maybe she thought if she moved her tit away from my back, I would realize it to be a touching-related move and realize what had happened. But I was not stupid. I knew full well what my hand had cupped happened to be the line of her pussy. She was very bony in her crotch and didn’t have much meat at all. She was a skinny girl. Continuing her aloof act, she whispered,

“Raj, is this you? Where is Rahul?”

“Oh I am sure he can’t find us here!” I was panting from being all excited and nervous at the same time.

“Yeah this is a great hiding place.” She whispered.

“What are you doin’ here?!” I whispered strongly.

“I always hide here.” She argued.

“Didn’t you see me come in?” I was getting frustrated and kind of embarrassed.

Her tits were still pricking my back. She was now leaning in to get a better look if the kid was coming in to catch us.

“No! Didn’t you see me standing here?” She said.

“Of course not. You can’t see anything in this dark!” I replied.

“Well, don’t move your head outside or he will catch us.” She said calmly, moving back a little and giving me more space.

I backed into her this time. Apparently she had thought of this space first and moved the rug out before she hid there, so there was a little more space in there than I had thought. Her tits weren’t poking me as they were before but they were still touching me. I thanked God my crotch was facing outward or she would certainly feel my hard on.

We both were breathing hard but neither said anything. Rahul was now very close and since I was outside, I had to go catch him.

“Go! Go!” She urged.

I leapt out at Rahul, slapped his back and yelled,

“Caught you Rahul!! HAHA!”

“Oh My God” Rahul protested with his head down and went back outside the room to count to 100 again.

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

My sister and I remained normal with each other for a few days. We kept playing dark room with the kids every time the adults went out. Neither of us hid in that corner again. At least I didn’t. And I never saw her coming out of there either. I didn’t want to go back there mainly because Rahul was now aware of it and mostly because I didn’t want the embarrassing situation to happen again.

After all, I had inadvertently touched my sister’s private parts. This was no small deal in our conservative household. I am sure she hadn’t forgotten about the incident either. Despite this, our demeanor hadn’t changed at all. We talked to each other normally and behaved just like we always did. We were adults after all and realized that accidents do happen.

Finally the last two weeks were over and the guests were leaving the next day. Mom and the guest aunty of ours were out doing some last minute shopping again before they returned to the West coast. Today was the kids’ final chance of playing dark room with us. For some reason Nisha didn’t really want to play today but she accepted when the kids pleaded and begged that they were leaving the next day.

Sanjeev counted to 100 and caught us all easily. We were getting slaughtered! The kids caught us no matter where we went. There was no where else to go but back to my trusted corner. This was going to be the last time one of the kids was going to count and try to catch us. The game was going to have to end soon since mom, dad and the lady would be home soon.

“Last turn coming up,” I smiled to everyone as Rahul begrudgingly went outside to count to 100.

I was laughing inside just waiting to see the look on his face when I caught him from the back the last time. I had thoroughly enjoyed this summer vacation with these kids. We had some good times and I was going to miss them when they left.

Little did I know this summer of mine was going to get a lot sweeter.

As I heard Rahul count to 100, I moved towards the space between the wall unit and the door. The reader can now probably predict I found Nisha there. That is probably expected, or else I would not be writing this story here.

But the strange thing is, that she appeared as oblivious of the fact that I was going to use that corner as my last weapon as I was of the fact that she was going to use it.

Stumbling in the dark, feeling the wall with my palms, I got to the edge of the wall unit and felt it around the corner to see if the rug (or Nisha for that matter) was standing there. Feeling nothing and hearing nothing, I leapt in.

I had felt wrong. This time she had scrunched herself into as tight a space as possible, squeezing her frail 105-lb frame into a space which didn’t seem to be larger than a few inches wide.

As I backed into the space, I felt her hands on my back.

“Not you again!” She whispered strongly and tried to push me out.

“Ugh! Get out, this is our last chance.” I fought back.

“Shhh!” She told me to quiet down.

Rahul was now done counting and was now roaming the house searching for his would-be “prisoners”.

“Hey I discovered this place first. Leave!” She whispered forcefully.

“But I can’t leave now or I’ll be caught.” I pleaded.

“Ok Raj,” she calmed down, “But you don’t get to catch him this time though….”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, just like last time, I am here first, but this time around I get to “catch” Rahul and not you.” She ordered calmly.

“Ok fine.” I agreed.

In order to get a head start, my sister was now leaning on my back again, pressing her protruding tits against my back. Feeling those soft little mounds of love on my back, coupled with her heavy breathing onto my neck, my dick was hard as a rock. She also smelled really nice. She probably just had deodorant on, but any smell coming from a girl is a turn on if a girl is that close to a guy – doesn’t matter if she is his own sister! She was now ready to move out of our hiding place. If she tried to squeeze out of this place, there was absolutely no way she wouldn’t feel my prick sticking out of my pants.

“Hey move back. There is no room here.” I got frustrated and embarrassed at the same time.

“I have to get out when Rahul gets in and it would be easier if I were on the outside.” Nisha said.

“You can’t! There is no room!” I urged her to stay back.

“Noooo!” She pinched me, “Raj this is my turn!!!”

”Owww.” I half yelped as I tried to whisper. “O-k! Ok! Do whatever you want.”

My sis giggled and got ready to move out without being caught by the approaching Rahul. I could have left the space if I wanted to make room for her to get out but I didn’t. I was just too horny. At this point, I probably wanted her to feel my prick. So I stayed in.

I had to turn around to move towards the inside of the space as she squeezed out. Turning towards her to get a full rub of her body, I felt her sweet aroma enter my nose as I looked into her eyes for the first time during this whole encounter while she was slipping out. She turned clockwise as I turned counter-clockwise. My cock which was making a tent in my pants rubbed her ass and thighs as she squeezed out. I saw her eyes widen and her pupils dilate in the dark as she gave me a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of her eyes. She knew what it was. She was an adult. She was my older sister! She knew her brother’s rock hard cock was what she had felt rubbing her ass cheeks and thighs while she moved out. This 2 second process felt like eternity. As she was slipping outward to catch Rahul, I moved my arms to give her more space and in doing so, my hands conveniently moved over her firm boobs. She was probably wearing a bra as I felt the hard material beneath her soft Indian shirt. Not moving my hands and pretending to give her space, I let her tits glide across my hands.

Nisha had now stopped; probably stunned at how shamelessly I had felt her up completely in these two seconds. I was now inside the space and Nisha was ready to pounce Rahul as he closed in on us. We were both breathing heavily. She hadn’t uttered a word and neither had I. I finally said in a hoarse voice,

“N…Nisha.. Rahul is close. Go!”

Saying this I pushed her out. And I swear this time the following contact was inadvertent and not done out of my horniness for her at all! While I was trying to push my hands on her back to let her out, I felt my hand get buried deep in the center part of her butt cheeks!

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

The Naked Night

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Amateur

Some years before, I began to discover how much I enjoyed not having any clothes on. By the way, my name is Amy. I’m a 20 year old girl with long brown hair and blue eyes. I’m tall and have figure 34C-25-34. Anyway it began by just sleeping in the nude. I’d close my door and turned on my bedside light. I’d pull my night dress top over my head and threw my bottoms on the floor. Sometimes I’d stand in front of the mirror and looked at my bare body. I’d put my fingers between my legs and made squish, squish sounds as they dabbled in my juices. When I needed to pee in the middle of night, I’d slowly open the door and checked if anybody around there. I’d risk running down the corridor to the bathroom. After finishing I’d open the toilet door and ran naked to my room again. The thought of getting caught by any family member would make me excited and I fingered myself until I released my juices on the floor.

But there was always a fear that someone might see me. When my parents went out on occasions, I’d strip off and walk around naked and I’m ashamed to admit that I got aroused by this. It was much more healthy and relaxing of not having any clothes on.

It happened on a summer day. It was very warm and being naked was more pleasurable. I opened the window but I couldn’t sleep due to the warm weather. It was 11pm and moonlight everywhere. The warmth of the summer made me feel naughty. Standing there naked I wondered what it would be like to go outside like this. But Avrupalı porno I was not sure if anybody caught me like this. If I went outside naked, my body would be clearly visible because of the moonlight. But I was unable to control my mind. I opened my bedroom door and peeped around. It was clear around there. I went towards the main door and opened it. When my right foot touched the grass, I felt a current flowing through my bare body. That was my first time of being naked outdoors. I was standing completely naked in our garden. I felt the warm air on my bare skin. My skin looked pale in the moonlight.

It was not completely dark outside. If anybody is at his/her window, he/she could clearly see a young girl standing naked.

“What if anybody sees me or I’ve already given the person an eyeful?” I thought.

I looked at the windows of the other houses but luckily couldn’t find any windows opened. My skin was looking pale and the areolas were dark. I touched my boobs and caressed them with my soft hands. And my nipples got hard instantly. I started walking and suddenly felt wetness down between my legs. The thought of getting caught made me wet. The warm air also helped my body to become wetter. I became very horny. I leaned against the wall and put my hand between my legs. I rubbed slowly downwards finding the tight folds of my labia, themselves protecting the moist pink flesh inside.

Parting my legs, I put a finger Video porno inside. I had not realised how wet I was. My pussy was so wet that I could easily enter another right into it. I curved my fingers up and pressed them against with my soft spot. I was breathing sharply as I felt myself shiver delightfully. Looking down over the mounds of my breasts, I could only see my fingers sliding in and out. The gentle schlup, schlup sound made me hornier that I started pressing my left breast with my left hand. I twirled my hard nipples that helped me to reach orgasm faster. My fingers began to move quicker to quickest. I reached the point of no return and BANG…!! I shot my juices like a water cannon. I was panting heavily that I needed to fill my lungs with oxygen again. I felt a second, smaller orgasm bubble through me. I put my wet fingers in my mouth and tasted it. Wow, so tasty! I always loved my own taste, lol.

I got myself under control again but I was still not fully satisfied. I didn’t want to miss this chance. I stood up and went near the main gate. The street was empty except the cars passing by now and then. I thought to make this memorable but I was a bit afraid of getting caught naked by others and their indecent intentions. But as I said before I couldn’t control my mind. Instead of opening the gate, I jumped over the small wall. I felt the street under my feet. I looked around but nothing saw unnatural. I didn’t wait because it could change my mind. I started walking letting my boobs and pussy free. It was my first time on the streets. My pussy was already wet with my juices and now it became wetter. My juices were coming down through my legs. I couldn’t help but walking. After some minutes or so, I reached a play ground. It was a big ground with short grasses. Kids played there in the afternoon but now it was totally empty.

I was thinking to masturbate again. As I sat on the grasses, the blades began to tingle in my pussy. Those were sticking with my pussy due to the juices. It made me horny again. And again I put my fingers right into my pussy. The schlup, schlup sound began again. I closed my eyes and lay on the grasses as taking my fingers in and out. Within a short period of time, I squirted a lot of cum. The grasses became wet like me. I wished they were thanking me to make them wet with my juices. I was fully satisfied that I wanted to return home. Now, I was scared of being caught. When I was horny, I thought about it but, that time I was under control of my horniness and neglected it. I ran through the street until I reached my house. I didn’t go so far, so I reached home within a short time.

I jumped over the wall again stood before opening the main door. I was panting heavily. Then I opened the main door slowly, stepped in and locked it. I went to my room and jumped into the bed. Probably I masturbated that night again. Next day, when I was having my breakfast, I received a message on my phone from an unknown number.

Someone wrote, “Hey girl, you run so fast! Thanking for the show by the way x.”

I was shocked! Someone had seen me already and that person had my number!

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

The New Guy

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Female Ejaculation

The young man parked his red Vespa by the sidewalk and turned it off. He brought the plastic glass of iced coffee in his hand up to his mouth and pinched the straw between his lips. He took a long sip, looking out at the Pacific Ocean where the water met the sky. Blue on blue. The sky was much bluer back in Nevada, he thought to himself. Refocusing his blue eyes, he surveyed the people on the sandy beach, enjoying the early July sun. Most were lying on towels, basking in the afternoon sunshine. Their bronze bodies glistened with oil. Others were playing volleyball or throwing Frisbees back and forth. He knew none of them and doubted he ever would. Once again, he was The New Guy.

The New Guy. That’s what his birth certificate should have said. Instead, neatly typed on it in bold capital letters was Ansel Stevens. Below that, his date of birth indicated that be had turned nineteen years old five months previously. In his short life, Ansel had lived in seven cities or towns and had attended five different schools. He was perpetually The New Guy, living a semi-nomadic life because his father’s job demanded that he transfer often. Ansel craved stability and a town he could call his own. One where he could make lifelong friends and grow old. Instead, he had gotten used to pulling up stakes and moving on with his parents when his father’s latest assignment dictated they do so.

He took another sip of iced coffee, looking down at the scooter between his legs. It had been a gift from his father shortly after his sixteenth birthday. They had found it at a yard sale in Flagstaff. Or was it Tempe? That was two moves ago, including this latest one to Sequoia Hills just four days ago. He thought he was going to like California, as well as he liked any place, that is. New Hampshire was still his favourite place so far. Probably because they had stayed there the longest, although that was only just shy of three years.

Ansel looked up Market Street, studying the rows of businesses lining the road. About twenty yards ahead was an elderly man sitting on a wrought iron bench in front of a store. He was reading a magazine and the afternoon sun made shadows on his craggy face. His grey hair was combed straight back over his head. It looked greasy and flowed over a tan overcoat that looked as old as the man wearing it. Ansel thought that the man looked like Charles Bukowski, but knew it couldn’t be him. Chuck had been dead for fifteen years after all. Still, Ansel wondered if the old derelict-looking gentleman might be a poet, or a university professor. Maybe even a physicist working at JPL. One thing he had learned at a young age was that people are seldom what they seem to be. Suddenly, his musing was interrupted by the sound of a excited female voice coming from his left.

“Cool wheels!”

Ansel turned in the direction of the girl’s melodious voice. Standing on the sidewalk less than six feet from him was a pretty girl, slightly taller than five feet, with honey blond hair. Her thick hair shimmered in the California sun. She squinted as she looked at him, but he could still see how her blue eyes sparkled. They were bluer than his own and even more brilliant than the Nevada sky that he now missed so much. He recognized her from the cafe down the road where he had bought his iced coffee. She had been waiting on another customer and was wearing a blue bib apron then, but it was definitely her.

“Thanks,” Ansel said, returning the girl’s smile.

“You lost or something?” she asked.

He gave his head a puzzled shake. “No, just killing time,” he told her.

“Oh,” she grunted. “I noticed the Nevada license plate and thought you must be a tourist,” she explained.

“Oh… that. No. I just moved here with my folks this week,” he explained. “We were living in Reno.”

The pretty blonde girl nodded. She tugged at the purse strap hanging over her left shoulder and gave her head a shake, tossing her long hair back from her face. “I’m Maria Mitchell,” she said, extending a slender hand to him. Her nails were long and painted a light pink.

He gave Maria’s hand a shake, taken by how soft her skin was. “I’m Ansel Stevens,” he said, then waited.

Inevitably, whenever Ansel introduced himself to someone for the first time he then had to explain that his father was an amateur shutterbug and had named his son after his favourite photographer. Now he waited for her to ask how he got saddled with such an unusual name.

Maria slowly withdrew her hand, grazing her fingertips over his palm. She folded her arms around her waist. It was then that Ansel’s eyes lowered. When he had seen her from the corner of his eye in the cafe earlier he had thought that she was rather flat-chested. Now, with just a red tank top covering her upper body, he found that her breasts reminded him of martini glasses in size and shape. Very nice, indeed. He felt his body begin to respond and he shifted on the black leatherette seat of the scooter as his erection grew.

“Ansel — like the photographer?” she asked, cocking Uzun porno her right eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he replied, surprised and impressed by her recognition. “My Dad’s hobby is photography. Ansel Adams is his favourite photographer.”

“We studied him in my photography class at Sequoia Art College,” she said.

“Are you taking Art or Design?”

“Art,” she said. “Like I’ll ever get a job doing it.” She tossed her head to one side and chuckled.

Ansel nodded. “I’m thinking of applying to their Design program in the fall,” he told her. “I’d like to become a graphic designer.”

“Get your application in soon because it fills up fast,” she advised, then looked at her watch. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ansel. Hopefully I’ll see you around again.”

“Yeah… you too,” he replied, then drew in a sharp breath. “Hey, where you headed?”

“Home,” Maria said. She took a step, gesturing to her right with her head.

“Want a lift?” he offered.

She gave him a suspicious look, then grinned. “Are you sure you’re not a serial killer or something? she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Actually, I am,” he said with a smirk. “But Tuesdays are my day off, so you’re safe with me.”

“At least for today, huh?” she retorted as she hooded her shimmering eyes.

Maria laughed. She adjusted her purse strap so it lay diagonally across her chest. Now it was taut between her conical breasts, pulling her tank top tight over them. He stared, noticing for the first time that she was braless. Her firm mounds were capped with a slight hint of thick nipples. Ansel unhooked the spare helmet attached to the side of the scooter and handed it to her.

“Okay, Cowboy, let’s go,” she said as she climbed on, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

It had been a long time since Ansel had driven his scooter with someone on back. And longer still since his passenger had been a girl. He drove slower than he normally would have — both out of caution and wanting to feel Maria pressed to him for as long as possible. The insides of her thighs rubbed against his and her breasts felt firm on his back. His cock throbbed and he looked down at it for a moment, noticing that her hands were holding onto him less than a foot above it.

“Turn left here,” she said as they approached Dunlap Street.

Ansel made the turn, feeling her slender body shift and rub over his back. He gripped the handlebars tighter and smiled. After they had been driving for another few minutes she spoke again, drowning out the whine of the machine beneath them.

“I live here, on Seymour,” she said, releasing her grip long enough to point to her right. “In the blue house on the right.”

They stopped in front of a single story light blue house that Ansel had at first thought was white. He listened to the motor idle as Maria climbed off. Her hair had been whipped about in the breeze and now her nipples had swelled so they stood out much more noticeably from the red material stretched over them. She pulled off the helmet that he had given her and returned it to him.

“Thanks for the lift,” Maria said with a smile. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders and shot him a nervous look. “Hey… ah… want to come in for a while? I mean, since it’s your day off ‘n’ all.”

Ansel laughed. “Thanks,” he said. He turned his Vespa off and followed her up a short cement walk to the white front door of the pale blue house.

“Mom’s at work. She has the day shift today, so the place is kind of a mess.” She gave him an embarrassed glance as she opened the door and lead him inside.

He followed Maria in to a small kitchen. Several plates and a glass pot lay in the sink. There were crumbs from toast on the table. Beside those was an open jar of strawberry jam and the cap belonging to it. When she opened the fridge and leaned over to peer inside his eyes moved to her. Her tanned legs were muscled and her black denim skirt hugged her firm ass. Ansel pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes wandered up to her breasts. They jiggled a bit as she moved.

“Want a Pepsi?” She had pulled her head from the fridge and was meeting his gaze.

“Sure. Thanks,” he said.

She took two cans from the fridge and handed one to him. “Come on,” she said, gesturing with her head. She pulled the tab on the can she was holding.

The small living room had white walls from which hung a few photographs — mostly of birds and lighthouses. They reminded Ansel of the type of photos his father sometimes took. Maria stopped in front of a stereo and after sorting through a stack of compact discs for a minute she placed one in the tray and pressed the play button. The sound of a muted trumpet filled the living room.

“Do you like Miles Davis?” Maria had sat down on a dark green couch across from the speakers. She placed the helmet she had been wearing on a coffee table in front of the couch. She slid over and patted the cushion beside her, inviting him to join her.

Ansel Öğrenci porno took his helmet off and put it down beside the other one. He sat down next to her and took a sip from the can, staring at the speakers. “I don’t know,” he said. “Is this him?

Maria nodded, lowering the can to her lap. “Yeah… Kind of Blue. This album always relaxes me after a busy day at work. It’s my favourite one of his.”

He nodded, finding the music soothing. He could understand why Maria liked it so much. Already he was beginning to feel his nervousness dissipate. “I can tell why,” he remarked.

“So, what brought you to California?” she asked. “Did you kill everyone in Nevada, or are you on the run from the cops?” She giggled and her brow wrinkled a bit.

Ansel shook his head, almost choking on a mouthful of pop as he fought a laugh. “Neither. My dad got transferred here,” he explained.

“What’s he do?” Her curious eyes met his once more as she turned on the couch to look at him.

“He’s a consultant for the government.”

“Like with the IRS or something?” she asked.

He grimaced slightly and gave his head a slow shake. This was another question that was always asked when he met new people and he dreaded it somewhat. “No. He works for the MBI,” he said.

“What’s that?” Maria had straightened her back and her eyes were wide with curiosity now.

“The Military Bureau of Investigation,” he explained. “They’re the military branch of the FBI.”

“Never heard of them.” She took another sip from the can she was holding, sounding quite eager to hear more.

“Good. That’s the way they like it,” he said with a laugh. Something else that Ansel had learned years ago was to not ask his father too many questions about his job. They were always met with curt, cryptic answers or non sequiturs.

“Consultant,” she said as her eyes locked on his. “Is that a fancy word for a spy or assassin?”

Ansel deflected her pointed question with a laugh. “Not quite,” he said.

Sensing his reluctance to elaborate, Maria leaned back on the couch. She took a quick gulp of pop, then said “Maybe I better not ask any more questions or I’ll get a visit from some men in a black SUV with tinted windows tonight.” She chuckled, but apprehension showed in her eyes.

He shrugged and smiled. “No. Nothing that drastic,” he assured her.

“Did you grow up in Nevada?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.

“No,” he said. “I grew up everywhere. Dad gets transferred every couple of years, so we’ve moved a lot.” Sadness showed on his face. He turned his doleful eyes back towards the stereo speakers, concentrating on the sounds of Billy Cobb’s drums emanating from them.

“That’s got to be hard on you. It must be difficult keeping friends,” she said sympathetically.

Ansel nodded, darting his eyes back to her. “Impossible,” he lamented.

“So, do you have a girlfriend back in Nevada?” Her question sounded like it was more than just idle conversation.

He shook his head once more. “Around the time I was fifteen I learned not to get too attached to people because I wouldn’t know them too long.”

Maria frowned. She felt bad for his plight and wanted to give him a hug. “Mom and I moved out here a few years ago, just before I turned seventeen” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Mom grew up in Sacramento and wanted to get as far away from my father as she could. He’s in jail now, back in Vermont. It’s a long story; I’ll tell you sometime. She’s a nurse and works shifts. That’s where she is now and why the house is such a mess.” Her eyes moved towards the kitchen for a few seconds.

Ansel looked into her eyes and gave her an understanding nod. Everyone has dark secrets. This was another realization he had even before he was a teenager. And it was best to not force them to divulge their secrets until and unless they’re ready.

The topic of conversation abruptly turned to music. Ansel learned that Maria was a bit of a jazz aficionado, especially when it came to the music of Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk and Chet Baker. He listened to her, rapt with the lilt of her voice and knowledge of jazz musicians.

Once Maria had finished her Pepsi she placed the empty can beside his on the coffee table. As she moved back towards the couch she leaned into Ansel and pressed her soft lips to his cheek. Her kiss was tender and lingering. Ansel was nearly overcome by the feeling of her moist lips on his cheek and the scent of her perfume. He jerked his head slightly, giving her a look of surprise. He wondered if her kiss was motivated by attraction or pity, although he hoped it was more of the former. Maria frowned when he moved away.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Ansel,” she blurted out. “I shouldn’t have done that. But you looked so sad that I thought… I’m really sorry.” She gave him a downcast look.

“It’s okay, Maria,” he assured her, now smiling.

“I’m not usually this bold — really,” she spat out. “But you seem like a lost soul. I’m sorry if I offended you. I mean, if you’re gay or whatever, I don’t care — that’s none of my business.” She realized that she was rambling now and clenched her jaw before she could make an even bigger fool of herself.

“No, I’m not gay — believe me,” he chuckled. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

A relieved smile appeared on her pretty face and she dared look at him once more. “So… you didn’t hate it then?” she asked, sounding tentative.

Ansel laughed. “No. Quite the opposite,” he said.

The sound of Miles’ trumpet cut through the silence and Ansel slid his right arm around Maria’s slender shoulders. He pulled her to him and kissed her left temple. Her soft hair grazed his cheek. When he felt her relax against him he slid his arm down to her waist, resting his hand on the curve of her right hip.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” she said after a minute.

“No,” he replied, but thought he sounded defensive.

“I don’t blame you, Ansel. As soon as you start caring for someone, you have to move and never see them again.” Her voice as soft and calming. Her eyes shifted towards him, full of compassion.

Ansel could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking above the music wafting from the speakers. He held Maria tighter and began to fall in love.

When the CD ended Maria seemed reluctant to move. Ansel hoped that she wouldn’t get up to put another one on. All he wanted to do was hold her and spin away from his past — as far away from the years of loneliness, disappointment and hurt as he could possibly get. Holding Maria, he felt safe. Grounded. They were emotions that always had seemed to elude him.

It seemed like only a few minutes, but in reality was closer to an hour when he looked at his watch. “I should be getting home,” he said. “Mom’s expecting me for supper.”

Maria sat up. Her eyes looked dreamy and wistful. She nodded, brushing her hair from her left cheek. “My shift tomorrow finishes at three,” she said.

“Need a ride home?” he asked with a hopeful smile as he picked the helmets up from the coffee table.

The left corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, but tomorrow’s not your day off. Don’t you have serial killer stuff to do?”

“I only work at night,” he retorted. “That’s one of the perks of the job: I can set my own hours.”

Maria got up and walked him to the door. She opened it, leaning on the knob and ran her eyes over him. “So, tomorrow at three?” she asked.

“You bet,” he said with a quick nod, noticing her dazzling eyes on him.

He walked out to his scooter and noticed that she was still watching him from the threshold. What he didn’t notice was that she watched him drive off until he turned the corner before she went back inside.

###

That night and the following morning Ansel was filled with nervous energy. He wanted to see Maria again. Not only that afternoon, but for every day to follow. He understood and accepted that when the time came for them to move on to wherever his father’s next posting took them that he would mourn leaving Maria behind. But he was already getting way ahead of himself. The inevitable transfer of his father would be well over a year away and much can happen in that time.

The sun was hot on his back that Wednesday as he drove his scooter towards The Smoking Dog Cafe, where Maria worked. He was early, so went inside to get an iced coffee. She looked up from the cash register when he walked in and a smile immediately appeared on her lovely face. Her reception excited him and almost made his heart ache at the thought of never seeing it again someday.

“Hey,” she said. “I still have about ten minutes left to go.”

“That’s okay. I’ll have an iced coffee while I wait,” he said.

Maria turned and filled a glass from a container on a counter behind her. When she returned she pushed the plastic glass towards him, then darted her eyes right and left. “It’s on me,” she said in a hushed voice.

Ansel winked and took a sip from the straw. He found an empty table near the back and nursed his drink while he watched Maria. Her movements were graceful. It was as though she floated inches above the floor with ease. Later, as she approached him, he noticed how her breasts bounced beneath her white blouse. She was wearing black shorts and his eyes slowly moved down to her bare legs. They were tanned and silky smooth.

“Okay, let’s get out of here before they find something else for me to do,” she said with a sigh.

Outside, Ansel handed her a helmet. He donned one too and started his Vespa. It rocked slightly as she climbed on, then he felt her body pressed to his. She held on tighter than the day before and he wondered, or hoped, if it was out of something else other than nervousness about his driving.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Home,” she said. “Unless there’s some other place you need to go.”

Ansel drove faster than the day before. He was now familiar with the route, but he was also in a hurry to get to Maria’s. Her curvy body felt wonderful against him and he wished that someday they could be joined together like this, only face to face. He parked in front of her house and followed her inside.

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

Midlife Fallout Ch. 02

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Dildo

This is the second half of a short story born from experiences several of my friends suffered through. How you chose to read is up to you, but reading the first half will help this make more sense.

The story and characters are fictitious, but the circumstances are real. No one under 18 is involved in any sex in this story. In fact, fair warning, there’s not much sex at all. This is just a romance between two people who find each other in an unusual way.

Thanks to all the readers who have supported me. Comments are always welcomed to help me improve as I develop my new favorite hobby.

Special thanks to NoraFares who has honored me with her proofreading skills and valuable advice. If you find errors, they’re my fault. They probably crept in when I made changes after Nora’s proofreading. If you love good writing, check out stories by NoraFares.

©BarryJames1952

*****

The following days were terrific. My mood was flying high. Blake’s hugs of greeting kept getting longer and stronger. It wasn’t long until the hugs included a kiss on the cheek.

Saturday that same week, Blake spent the day with me. We talked, we walked to the Chowder House, strolled the beach, sat on the sand and watched the water, and just enjoyed the day. As we returned to my condo, our conversation took an interesting turn.

“Steve, do you attend church?”

“I used to, but I haven’t looked hard enough for a church in this area where I think I’d feel comfortable. Do you attend?”

“I did in St. Louis, but I haven’t found one here either.”

“Why don’t we do a web search back at my condo and see if there’s one that looks interesting. If we find one, we can go together tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

We found one not too far away and agreed to attend in the morning. I’d pick her up at her place with coffee and scones ready to go.

I had never been to her place, so I drove her home that night for the first time. I met her roommates and Blake’s description was quickly confirmed. I barely got to learn their names before they offered a five-some, I assume to include Blake. They didn’t like my response when I told them to grow up. At least they stopped bothering Blake and me.

Blake was ashamed to show me her room, but she did. It was about 10 feet by 10 feet with a closet-sized bathroom. The only furniture was an air mattress. Her clothes were either hung on an open rack or arranged in her open suitcases on the floor.

I drove home and knew that I’d eventually ask her to move into my guest suite. But that was not something to push for yet.

In the morning we attended a church and really liked it. On the drive home, we decided we’d go together every week. It felt good to be back in the company of fellow believers where I had a shot at making friends with folks on my wavelength.

Blake had a highly appropriate question.

“I wonder why I stayed away from the church once I moved here. It would have been the most natural thing to do to get immersed in the community.”

“You read my mind. I was thinking the same thing. I get a sense that the events in my life made me uncomfortable in church when it should have been just the opposite. If I think about it, somehow I felt guilty as if I had done something wrong, and I didn’t want folks in the church to see me that way. Plus, to be completely honest, I was mad at God for what I’d been through.”

Blake’s face lit up. “Oh, my Lord! That’s it. That’s exactly it. I let that ass make me feel guilty about everything when it was his fault, and I blamed God for not pulling me out to safety.”

“When I think about it now, I can calmly understand and accept that we can’t have both free will and someone directing every move in our lives as if we’re puppets.”

We both recognized the breakthrough in our recovery.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready. Can we talk about details after lunch?”

“Yeah. I’m ready too. Only one thing I request—no—make it two.”

“What?”

“The first is obvious. We’re not going to fix each other’s past, so we should only listen and support.”

“Yeah. Unless there’s a question. But no suggested fixes. What’s the other?”

“That we hold each other the whole time. If I look into your eyes and see your agony, or if I’m sharing my past, I don’t think I’ll make it two minutes without losing control of my emotions. I want to share this with you, and maybe we both can start to move forward.”

We stopped at the Chowder House and ate lightly, both knowing the afternoon would be difficult. Our collective mood was subdued but we each had a deep sense of resolution that we would be finally dealing with the things that made us wounded ducks.

We finished lunch, drove to my condo, and entered hand-in-hand.

“Steve, do you have a set of sweats or something I can change into. I think I’ll need something more comfortable than this dress.”

“Sure. Let’s find something in my room, and you can change in my guest room while I find something comfortable for me too.”

As I changed clothes, Avrupalı porno I remembered how I reacted to women in my life telling me about people that hurt or upset them. My mind always wanted to fix it and inflict revenge on the perpetrator with force 100 times greater than the crime they committed would have justified. I learned, though, that the female who was unloading her problems only wanted me to listen. So I tried to clear my mind, put away the weapons in my head that I’d use on her ex, and mentally reattach protruding appendages I’ve already ripped off of him in my mind. I knew what she’d have to say would upset me greatly. I owed it to her and myself to stay calm and appropriate.

We each came out to the living room wearing identical outfits—a pair of my dark blue sweat pants and a dark gray tee shirt. I came out first and when she entered the room, we laughed at our matching attire.

“This looks more like a slumber party,” Blake mentioned with a giggle.

“You make that outfit look great compared to me.”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look bad yourself.” She never called me Stevie before. Nobody ever has. I liked it coming from Blake.

“I thought the couch in here would be better than out on the porch. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

We found a comfortable position to start. Blake snuggled up against me and I held her tight to my side.

“I like this. I feel secure,” she noted with a warm sigh.

“Me too. You fit against me perfectly. So, how do we start?”

“I guess I should go first,” she said with determination.

“Okay.”

“Well, I met Buck at my home church. I always thought he was sort of cute, but he didn’t seem that interested in me. He was eleven years older than me but still acted very much like a teenager. He was known as a bit of a black sheep, and for some reason, I thought that was sexy. Out of the blue one day at church, he asked me on a date.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty three. I never really dated much before then and had never been with a man, if you know what I mean. So on a Friday, he took me to Burger King, then to a movie. Really upscale, right?”

“Big spender. I get the picture,” I chuckled.

“We hardly talked and barely touched all night. After the movie, we got in his pickup truck. Before he started it he just pulled me over and started frenching me. I never did that before, but I liked it even though he was kind of rough. Then he sat up and said we were going out the next day—a Saturday—and he’d pick me up at six. I figured, okay, and agreed. So, he picked me up the next day and took me to his apartment.”

“Did you expect that?”

“No. It was a one-room dump. We walked in and before the door was closed, he went right to frenching me again. I was really scared and inexperienced, but I have to admit it was arousing. Before I knew what was happening, he was feeling me up and pulling off my clothes. I started to panic but instead resigned myself that it was time for me to experience this. I’d like to say we made love, but basically, he screwed me roughly and it hurt like hell, but at least he got off quickly. Then he just took me home. He wore a condom, but I was sure it broke since I had stuff dripping out that I knew wasn’t mine.”

“Oh, damn.”

“After our so-called date, he ignored me again. A friend at church told me the truth. Buck had a bet with a guy that he could nail me. I was crushed that I lost my virginity on a bet to a slimeball. I confronted him and, his exact words were, ‘I did you a favor, you cow. No one else was going to do you.’ I couldn’t…”

Blake started crying a little so I held her tightly until she was ready to continue.

“… I couldn’t believe how cold and calloused he was. A few weeks later, as you may have guessed, I learned I was pregnant.”

She paused and asked me for a bottle of water before she continued. When I returned, she changed position to where she sat across my lap and put her arms around my neck while resting her head on my shoulder. I liked this position a lot more.

“I told my parents what happened and my dad went ballistic and started calling me a fat slut and other names a father should never use. Dad went to see Buck, who was much smaller than my dad, and he knocked him around a bit. Then dad called my uncle, his brother, who owned the contacting firm Buck worked for. They went to see Buck again and dragged him into our house where Buck was made to propose.”

“Shotgun wedding?”

“Yeah, but my dad didn’t need a gun. There was no talk of adoption or, for sure, abortion. Buck was going to be a reluctant dad. The wedding was very small and quick, and I moved into Buck’s dump of a bachelor pad. Funny enough, he softened up quite a bit and seemed to be choosing to grow up. I still wouldn’t say we ever made love, but we had some sex that was okay. Then…”

Blake started crying with some force. I just held her tighter and kissed her forehead to let the wave pass.

“Then, I lost the baby after seven months and had lots Video porno of complications. The doctor said I would never be able to safely have children after that and he talked me into having my tubes tied.”

She was crying harder and I knew not to say anything, but I made it clear that I was there to support her. It took several minutes for her to calm herself enough to continue.

“Sorry. That news was the biggest blow I ever got.”

After a few more whimpers, she was able to go on.

“I figured Buck saw his chance to get out from under his commitment to me. Dad and my uncle wouldn’t allow it, so we stayed together. I tried to find a way to love him, and I thought at some points we may have had something. But there wasn’t going to be any romance stories written about us.

I need a bathroom break.”

She ran off for a minute. When she came back she sat on my lap again but facing the other direction.

“Sorry, that’s better. So, where was I? Oh, yeah. Buck and I stayed married, and for a few years, I thought it may work out. I got a job as a marketing assistant in a company nearby, and we moved to a slightly better small apartment. Buck actually seemed almost content, and he was nicer to me during that period than at any other time. But slowly, he started calling me degrading names, telling me I was ugly and fat, couldn’t even give him children…awful, hurtful things. I saw evidence that he was fooling around. Eventually, he didn’t care that I knew and started bringing women to our apartment. Soon he went even further and had multiple girls or some of his friends with girls and they just held sex parties. He tried to force me to take part and I refused.”

“I guess your dad and uncle were still forcing you to stay together?”

“Forcing Buck more than me, but I didn’t think I had a choice. Plus, three years ago my dad died, so that point of pressure was resolved. But the sex parties were getting out of hand. Buck’s friends kept trying to get me to take part, but Buck told them things like, ‘she’s the most beautiful cow in the county,’ or ‘I ran out of bags to put over her beautiful pig face,’ and a long list of other…”

Her tears returned. I couldn’t help saying what was on my mind. “Now I know why my words upset you. He used the word ‘beautiful’ against you.”

“Yeah. Anyway, my uncle died last year, so Buck figured he could dump me now. He said he was tied down to me long enough, and he wanted to enjoy his ‘midlife crisis.’ I found out he had three kids with three different bimbos he’d been with. I pity those kids. Anyway, he destroyed any friendships I had. My mother really wanted nothing to do with me and I felt little for her. I was treated like the town whore at church. I was going to leave anyway when his divorce papers came. So, I signed and I left. And you know the rest.”

I hugged her more tightly so she could feel that I cared and understood. “Just let me hold you. You’re safe here.”

Blake softly cried, but I had a sense that she felt some comfort in having unloaded her past. Something she said kept resounding in my brain. Midlife crisis. Nancy kept saying something similar. Certainly, I’ve heard the term before. Buck just seemed to be a life-long shmuck. Until her announcement of departure, Nancy was, by all appearances, a respectable and devoted wife and mother. But midlife seemed to be the tipping point for both of them and their actions.

I felt Blake resting limply in my arms as she slept having exhausted herself. I carried her into the guest room and covered her so she could rest. I laughed to myself. If I could carry her, she was not heavy or overweight. I would guess she weighed less than 135 pounds. I watched her sleeping and couldn’t help but to think that Buck was a fool throwing away this amazing woman. She really was beautiful.

If I didn’t know it before, I knew it then—I was falling for Blake. Nancy was the old story, and Blake would take her place in my heart. I was angry as hell at Nancy, but if I was honest with myself, love doesn’t just stop. A few short weeks ago at the deepest point of my loneliness, I actually feared that it may have been possible to be tempted to return. Blake closed that door and locked it for good.

My thoughts were rushing to conclusions too fast. I knew I wanted Blake. I was fairly sure she felt the same, but I didn’t know for sure. Either way, even if Blake walked away from me right now, I knew Nancy would never get back in. It wasn’t just the anger driving me anymore. My heart deserved better than Nancy.

Blake healed me of the disease called Nancy.

Dinner time was drawing near. I planned ahead to make cedar plank salmon, roasted fingerling potatoes with onions and garlic, and grilled asparagus. I began preparations while Blake napped and I enjoyed the family-feel of the condo. A huge smile took over my face, because now, at this moment, it felt like home.

It wasn’t too long before Blake walked into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“How did I get into the bedroom?”

“I carried you.”

“You’ll bust a hernia that way.”

“Contrary to your belief, my friend, you don’t weigh that much. Do you feel better?”

“Yes. I feel refreshed. I feel… I feel like a weight has been lifted. And, you make me feel safe, Steve.”

She hugged me from behind. “Thank you for hearing me. It made me feel exposed, and yet you kept me very secure.”

I turned to face her. “Your past is so different from mine. Your strength makes me look weak in comparison to what you’ve survived.”

“I don’t know if I’d describe myself as strong. Until I met you I was settling on being invisible. Who knew that meeting an odd duck would be such a good thing?”

“Well, you walking Princess down my street resulted in me finding a cherished friend.”

“Oh, speaking of which—I better take Princess out.”

“I’ll have dinner on by the time you return.”

The veggies were done and the fish was a minute away from perfection. I plated everything just as my two guests came back in. Blake had brought some food for Princess, so all hungry mouths were attended to.

After dinner, we sat on the couch and cuddled some more.

“I’m so full,” Blake moaned. “That was fantastic. You can cook for me anytime.”

“I enjoy it, for sure. But I’m no Iron Chef.”

“Are you up to telling me your story?”

I knew Blake felt more than obligated to hear my saga, and she was anxious to help me recover. I was concerned it would be too much for one day. Plus, she didn’t know it, but Blake already helped me recover. I needed the anger to fade so I could exist. I felt ready to find my new purpose—something to make getting up every day worthwhile.

“You’ve had a long and emotional day. Why don’t I save my story for tomorrow night? Besides, sitting here with you makes me feel like nothing in the past matters.”

“Really?”

“Very much so. Blake, you’ve become very special to me and have helped me more than you realize.” I held her tighter.

“So, is this you hitting on me?”

“Maybe.” I smiled. “Are you surprised to hear that I find you irresistible?”

“You’re pretty transparent, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told. But can you really be interested in an old grouch like me?”

She looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “How should I answer?”

She found the perfect way as her lips tenderly met mine and our hidden passions revealed themselves. After a few moments, she pulled back and flashed a huge grin. “Does that sufficiently answer your question?”

“I need a much longer answer.”

Our mouths met like two magnets coming together. I felt her affection flow through me as our lips parted and our tongues met with intensity. I was in a state of ecstasy. Nothing else mattered but this moment. The past was insignificant, and the future was uncertain. But that moment I craved exactly what Blake was giving me. She transmitted the strength of her feelings through her furiously probing tongue, while I returned my emotions with similar fervor.

When our mouths finally parted we both held each other’s cheeks as our noses and foreheads met. Simultaneously, we both exclaimed, “Wow.” Giggling, we simultaneously said, “Jinx.”

“So now, do you have your answer, sir?”

“I sense the beautiful woman likes me,” I replied.

“Beautiful?” She pretended to be upset.

“Yes,” I insisted. “Very beautiful.”

She moved back onto my lap and we made out like teenagers. Somehow, I doubted Buck taught her to kiss this well. She was a natural when her emotions supported her actions. Words were not necessary for this conversation. We were bonding, and it was hotter than anything I’d ever experienced. I was acutely aware that her passion was awakening my sleeping soldier, the presence of which didn’t escape her notice since she was sitting on my lap. She pulled back with the cutest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, I think someone else likes me.”

“I hope you take it as a compliment. Every pleasant nerve in my body is screaming approval of you in my arms and demanding that you never leave them.”

“It’s always a compliment to be proudly saluted,” she smirked.

For the rest of the night, we barely spoke. It’s hard to talk when someone’s tongue is in your mouth. For hours we shared the lingering flavors of our excellent dinner and looked into each other’s eyes enabling our souls to silently speak. I felt the connection growing stronger, and I watched it growing in her as well.

Lips were sore and tongues were cramping as we settled into a warm embrace. Blake broke the blissful silence.

“Steve, does this mean you and I are now an ‘us?’ It feels that way.”

“I hope so. But there are things that scare me.”

“About me?” Blake seemed to start getting upset and defensive.

“No, no, no. I absolutely adore you and there’s no one else I’d rather be sitting with.”

“So, what scares you?”

“We both are victims of our recent pasts.” I moved us so we could look into each other’s eyes. “Blake, not more than a few hours after we started to talk during your walks, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. The hours until I next saw you were filled with hope, but also anxiety. As we started getting to know each other, I knew I loved you as a good friend.”

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

Sapphic Solicitors Ch. 01

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Emo

Stephanie Rollins slowly approached her young, unsuspecting co-worker, Rose Matthews, who had just joined the legal firm three months ago. Every time she gazed at the young, twenty-one-year-old brunette, Stephanie was practically panting like a bitch in heat. Finally, after the big boss, Nathalie Partridge, and the three other partners—of which Stephanie was the fourth—had left, Stephanie was in charge of pretty, young Rose. As she walked towards the younger woman file some papers for Nathalie’s new case, the older woman purred to herself, “It’s all right—don’t be afraid. All I want is for you to lick my pussy.”

But Stephanie knew she had to play it cool, so as not to scare the young woman—the last thing anyone wanted for the firm of Partridge, Drake, Kennedy, Falkner, she’d earned it—graduating top of her class at Yale Law School, with a 4.4 GPA, and getting every scholarship in the book to get where she was today. She remembered the dream she’d captured in that bottle for herself at the age of thirteen, just a month before her fourteenth birthday, and as she graduated from middle school, that it was all she wanted—that is, until pretty little Rose Matthews walked in the door as their brand-new spring associate.

“Rose,” Stephanie said, approaching her completely and smiled.

Rose turned, her sapphire eyes still captivating Stephanie. “Yes, Ms. Rollins?” she asked, flashing her a perfect smile; that evening, she was dressed in an above-the-knee length red, flared skirt with a stylish white sweater, golden chain belt, and knee-high, black leather boots. “Is everything all right? Do you need a coffee or something? I could get it for you…”

Stephanie smiled and shook her head. “No—you probably don’t remember, I’m the only partner who drinks tea.”

“Tea, right. Sorry,” Rose said. “Shall I fetch you a tea, then?”

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Stephanie said. “I’ve just finished going over a deposition for a case I have next week and believe me, the last thing I need is caffeine right now.”

“That’s for the Westbrook case, right, Ms. Rollins?”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Well, you certainly do your homework, don’t you, Rose?” she asked, impressed.

“Well, it’s in all the papers, and they said our firm was handling it,” Rose said, backtracking quickly—the poor girl thought that Ms. Rollins believed that she’d been snooping around some of the confidential files. “I just assumed, since Partridge and Drake are handling the wrongful death suit, and Kennedy and Faulkner are handling the child abuse case that you…”

“Yes, I’m handling the Westbrook case,” Stephanie replied with a smile. “Actually, I was reading about you the other day—you’re at Yale?”

“Yes. Graduating in June,” Rose replied, beaming.

“I graduated from Yale myself,” Stephanie said. “It’s good to see our associates are coming from my alma mater.”

“When did you graduate?” Rose asked, the question spoken before she could stop herself. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Rollins. That was rude…”

Stephanie smiled, finding herself aroused by Rose’s discomfort. “No need to apologize,” she replied easily. “I graduated seven years ago, when I was twenty-one.”

“So, you’re twenty-eight now?”

“Yes. Twenty-nine in December,” Stephanie said, half-hoping that Rose would present herself, nude, with a massive red bow tied around her neck for her Christmas/birthday gift.

Rose quickly checks her phone. “It’s almost six now. You live in Westchester, right?”

Stephanie was touched that Rose knew where she lived. “I do.”

“Well, your husband will be worried about you, won’t he?” she asked. “Or not husband,” she said quickly after seeing Stephanie’s raised eyebrows. “Do you prefer fiancé? Boyfriend? Or partner?”

Stephanie smiles and shakes her head. “No, Rose. I’m not involved…with men.”

Rose let out a sigh of relief. “Sorry, again,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have guessed by your expression. People are so much more open about their sexuality these days. Comes with the territory, I guess.” She turns briefly back to the filing cabinet and files the stack of folders away for the following week. “Well, nearly six o’clock on a Friday—you must be exhausted, Ms. Rollins.”

Stephanie shrugged. “Honestly, I’m hankering for an expensive meal out.” She crossed her arms and stared at Rose. “Would you like to join me, or do the dorms have a curfew?”

Rose grins. “No, I don’t live in the dorms. My late uncle left me his brownstone in Fairfield, so not too far from here—an hour, give or take.”

“You drive?”

“I do,” Rose said, seemingly flattered. “My father bought me the car I drive in now as a sixteenth birthday present.”

“Well, you must have to fill up your car now and again,” Stephanie said. “Will you go with me to dinner?”

“Um…” Rose hesitated.

Stephanie smiled. “Come on—I see you’re done with your filing and its Friday night. You don’t seem like the partygoer to me.”

“How Uzun porno do you know what I am?” Rose demanded hotly.

Ooh, feisty, Stephanie thought to herself, but she remained calm. “You’re right—how rude of me to make assumptions. I merely ask you to go to dinner with me because I’m allowed a special guest with me in the courtroom. You seemed interested in the Westbrook case so I figured, if you were open to it, we could discuss it over dinner.”

Rose sighed, seeing her error. “Sorry,” she said. “Really. It’s just that I’ve heard that sometimes people in authority can come on to subordinates.”

You don’t know the half of it, Stephanie mused, but she kept her smile in check. “Don’t worry—I am hardly going to abduct you in the night. How about I give you the address of the place and you meet me there? Deal?”

Rose nodded. “Okay,” she said, allowing a small smile to play at her lips as she keyed the address of Stephanie’s favorite steakhouse into her phone.

“Great,” Stephanie said. “I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.” She gave Rose a smile and turned back into her office, logging off her work computer and beginning to gather her briefcase as Rose went to the associate’s office to grab her coat and purse.

Stephanie left the building and went underground to the parking garage, finding her luxury car without difficulty and getting inside, strapping herself in. It took all of Stephanie’s strength not to stick her fingers into her pussy as she drove across town to The Indigo Medallion, the best steakhouse in town. She had a private table permanently booked Friday to Sunday, in case it suited her fancy, and would eat there at least one of those days. The proprietor was a kind elderly gentleman from Phoenix, Arizona called Nate, and he had been like a second father figure to her in her years of going there. He knew of her sexual orientation and deliberately gave her a table in the back, surrounded by curtains—even if she dined alone—on the off chance she would encounter a woman there to fondle during her meal.

She arrived at the restaurant just sixteen minutes later, and was immediately shown to her table by the maitre D, a man in his forties, named Dimitri, who was a partner in the restaurant business with Nate. Stephanie gave Nate the name of her date that evening, as well as Dimitri, and they’d agreed on the utmost discretion, and immediately pulled the curtains surrounding her table upon her arrival. As Stephanie sat back in the circular booth, she contemplated the menu, always torn between the roasted half chicken and the New York steak, medium rare. About four and a half minutes later, the curtains twitched and Rose let herself in, smiling at Stephanie and sitting across from her.

“The curtains?” she asks, a delicious giggle escaping her throat. “What? Are these some sort of perk or something?”

Stephanie nods. “You could say that.” She nodded at Rose’s menu. “They encourage the people to order an appetizer, then a soup or salad, entrée, and then dessert. Get whatever you want—we’ll be discussing business, so this meal is deductible anyway.”

Rose grinned briefly before opening the black leather menu and peering inside. “So many delicious-sounding things,” she mused. “My mother was a chef.”

“Really?” Stephanie asked, suddenly curious.

“Yeah—Le Cordon Bleu and everything,” Rose said, bragging about her mother in the nicest possible way.

“Is that how she met your dad?”

“Yes,” Rose replied, obviously touched at the memory of her parents meeting. “My dad was a doctor and—after they got together—they came up with healthy alternatives in the kitchen; owned a magazine, too—Doc & Cook.”

“My mother was obsessed with them,” Stephanie said, relieved that they were sharing details of their personal lives. “The new issue was always on the coffee table; she insisted that we wait a week before I could read it, so there wouldn’t be any damage to it. She was very particular about that rule.”

“What did your mom do?” Rose asks.

“She was an interior designer. Her favorite room to design was kitchens,” Stephanie replied, her mind lost in the past.

“And your father?”

“My father was an architect—building big skyscrapers, hotels, things like that. His best friend and business partner married her sister, and that’s how they met—at the wedding.”

“That’s romantic,” Rose offered.

Stephanie laughed. “Far from it, actually. My mother designed the interior of the wedding while my father thought that she had no taste. It was terrible—thank god for sex and traditional values because if it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Did they ever fall in love?” Rose asked, and Stephanie suddenly wondered just how naïve her would-be conquest really was.

“Yes, eventually,” Stephanie said. “Then my father came out as gay, so I don’t know how real that love supposedly was.”

“Do you believe it’s a genetic thing?” Rose asks Öğrenci porno softly, as the curtains part and one of the waiters puts a bread basket and butter dishes on our table before leaving.

“Being gay?”

“Yes,” Rose says, selecting a piece of bread and buttering it.

Stephanie shrugs. “Could be—but I’m not expert.”

Rose laughs. “Neither am I.”

“So, tell me what you know about the Westbrook case,” Stephanie says, taking a piece of bread myself and adding butter to it. “You seem interested—what piqued your interest?” she asks, slowly taking a bite of bread and locking eyes with Rose, so as the younger woman was clearly in awe of the elder.

“I think that the stereotype is fascinating,” Rose confessed then, “that women are supposedly the gentler sex, and how that is still used today in certain arguments. I know that we’re supposed to be on Monica Westbrook’s side, and I respect that, but…”

“But what?”

“Her alibi—or supposed alibi… I just can’t shake the fact that something is wrong…”

“Shake it,” Stephanie tells her. “That’s an order. We can’t have any shadow of a doubt in that courtroom that she’s guilty.”

“Do you believe her?” Rose asks, nibbling her bread.

Stephanie grins at her. “I’m her lawyer,” she replies. “It’s my job to believe her.”

Rose and Stephanie decided to split the calamari for their appetizer. Stephanie end up ordering a Caesar salad while Rose orders French onion soup. For their entrées, Stephanie got the chicken and Rose ordered a top sirloin steak—probably because it’s the cheapest steak on the menu. For their dessert, Rose got the bread pudding while Stephanie opted for the chocolate cake. The two women had spoken about this and that, from likes and dislikes, to hobbies outside work, to their childhoods. After their dinner dishes are cleared away, Rose got more personal.

“When did you know?” Rose asked Stephanie softly.

Stephanie sipped a bit at my Don Pérignon and hesitated. “When I wanted to be a lawyer?” she asked, which was obviously a safer topic.

“No. When did you know you were gay?”

“Well, I always found myself having crushes on various girls throughout high school,” Stephanie said, mulling it over as she set her glass down. “But I remember one girl—Alice Whittaker—who completely changed everything for me. I was just eighteen and she was nineteen; she was my aunt’s, my mother’s sister’s, best friend. My aunt was my mother’s half-sister, and about fifteen years younger. I was staying at their house on the lake one summer—my dad was off working and my mom got called because her father had fallen in a minor accident, and she left me alone there, with them. One day, my aunt went into the next town—half an hour away, to go get groceries, and Alice and I decided to go swimming.” Stephanie sipped her champagne, remembering the hot, July afternoon and remembered the butterflies in her stomach when she’d first seen Alice in her sexy new bikini.

“What happened?” Rose asked.

Stephanie looked up and smiled. “Oh, the usual—Alice asked me if I’d ever kissed anyone and of course I had. I’d already lost my virginity and I’d had two boyfriends at that point, so it wasn’t a big deal. Then Alice asked me if I’d ever kissed a girl…”

“Had you?” Rose asked, almost eagerly.

Stephanie shook her head. “No—the thought didn’t even cross my mind until the moment I saw Alice in her bikini. Her family had the cabin next door, and she told me to write a note to my aunt that I’d be there for a while, and I did—she was older than me and a lot more experienced so I just went along with it…”

“Then what?” Rose wanted to know.

“We went into her bedroom and just kissed for a good fifteen minutes. Then, she held me close and told me that everything would be okay, and that we didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do—you know, kid stuff. I told her I wanted her to show me everything and she did. It was the longest, most fantastic two hours of my life. We stayed in touch for a while after that, and I made an excuse whenever possible to head down to her cabin. But after I started at Yale, it became harder and harder to meet, and then she got interested in someone else, and I started dating my first girlfriend, Viola Seymour…”

“How long were you with Viola for?”

“We broke up two years ago,” Stephanie replied, “so a good six and a half years. She was everything to me, and she was in her thirties—almost forty. But when it ended, it turned out that it was a big fantasy charade…”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked, perplexed.

“Turned out that Viola was married to a man named Humphrey,” Stephanie replied. “She and Humphrey had three kids and a house in the suburbs. Humphrey had a good job in the stock market so Viola got bored of the whole soccer mom routine and wanted a little excitement. They tried swinging and it worked for them. Then she found me in a gay bar and I took her home; it was passion, I’ll admit, and I fell in love with her after six months. She’d assumed a new identity with me, and moved fake clothes into my house. I caught her with her husband after six and a half years and I felt so stupid that I’d missed the whole thing. And, to top it all off, I was the greatest sex she ever had, and she stayed with her husband…” Stephanie twirled her wine glass and drank another sip. “It’s just as well,” she said, thanking the waiter when he arrived with their dessert and left. “I just hope I find the right one before it’s too late…”

“Too late?”

“Well, fertility in my family is a strange thing. If I want kids, I gotta have them before I hit thirty-five or else my chance is gone…”

Rose nods, enjoying her bread pudding. She eats about half of it before she puts her spoon down, almost as if she is levelling with herself. “Ms. Rollins?”

Stephanie smiles. “Call me Stephanie, really.”

“Stephanie… I want you to teach me.”

Stephanie nearly choked on her chocolate cake. “Sorry?”

Rose straightened in her chair. “I want you to teach me how to make love to a woman,” she replies matter of factly.

Stephanie lowered her fork, wiping her mouth with the cloth napkin. She’d become wet all over again as soon as Rose had uttered those words, and realized she wanted it more than anything she’d ever wanted before. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Rose said softly. “I want to learn.”

Stephanie smiled and nodded. “Okay.” They finished their dessert and the check came, but not before Stephanie had slipped Rose her address and phone number. “Shall we meet tomorrow at some point?” Stephanie asked as she signed the check, but Rose caught her hand.

“No. Tonight. Please.”

Stephanie raised her eyes to Rose, violet boring into hazel. “Why tonight?”

Rose leaned in so as Stephanie could smell her perfume, which was her namesake. “Because you made me so fucking horny with those stories about you and Alice and one with Viola,” she whispered hotly. “Please. I’m so wet, and I need attending to.”

Stephanie smiled lightly, although she knew exactly where Rose was coming from. “Meet me at my place,” she whispered.

“No,” Rose said, “take me home with you.”

“But, your car…”

“I’ll have a friend drive it back for me—my roommate, she works in the city.”

Stephanie sighed; the girl truly was horny if she was eighty-sixing her car. “All right,” she said, finishing with the bill payment. She got to her feet and put on her coat, and Rose did the same as they waved goodbye to Nate, Dimitri, and the rest of the employees. As they stepped outside, the cool, early spring air threatened to take their coats, but Stephanie put her hand in Rose’s as they walked around the corner. As soon as they got inside Stephanie’s car, Rose texted her roommate about her car and off they went.

The drive was forty minutes each way, and Stephanie had to drive with her knees together so as not to tempt herself, or her passenger. They drove past the Hudson River and made their way up the highway to Westchester County where Stephanie lived in an impressive Georgian mansion amongst many other architectural styles in a gated community. It had been a family home, which Stephanie had inherited upon her twenty-fifth birthday, because she was her father’s only child and he’d died of AIDS when she was just twenty.

“Nice house?” Rose asked, making conversation.

“Very—a Georgian mansion,” Stephanie replied.

“How’d you snag that?” Rose wanted to know.

“My father left it to me in his will,” Stephanie said nonchalantly.

Rose nodded, continuing to look out at the river as they drove north. Finally, the highway exit loomed before them and Stephanie signaled to get off the freeway, which she executed to near perfection. As the continued driving into the night, Stephanie made all the correct turns and stops and they finally turned onto a cobblestone road and up to a wrought iron gate. Stephanie keyed in the code and they were allowed access and they drove slowly down the road—despite the lateness of the house—as the gates closed behind them.

Stephanie pulled into the garage and showed Rose through to the entrance from the garage up to the main floor. As they entered, Stephanie keyed in the security code for the house so as they were safe, and took Rose’s coat, hanging it upon the pegs in the hall by the front door. She turned around then to find Rose just behind her, and smiled.

“You’re very serious, aren’t you?” she asked.

Rose nodded; even with her boots, she was a good two inches shorter than Stephanie. “I am, really,” Rose assured her.

Stephanie nodded, reaching out and tilting the girls’ chin up. “I’ll bet you’ve kissed a few boys in your time, haven’t you?”

“A few.”

“Any girls?”

Rose shrugged, quickly flushing. “Just during dares, you know…”

Stephanie smiled down at her. “I know… And I’ll make a confession to you…”

“What?”

“Ever since you walked into the office when your assignment began, I’ve been fantasizing about how to get you in my bed.”

Rose’s hazel eyes widened. “Really? Me?!”

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

Mexican Creek Ch. 01

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Big Dicks

Chapter 01: At the Swimming Hole

Our husbands had a great idea. As usual it was great for them, but boring for us. The two of them wanted to pack Maria and me off to the lake for two weeks. We protested; but they just argued about how much we would love the swimming, sun bathing and cool air of the Balcones.

It was apparent they had some plan of their own. We could sense this and finally gave in to the inevitable. Maria’s family owned old property on the backside of Medina Lake and assured me that the rancho was a wonderful place to kickback and enjoy. We headed out Friday afternoon for the cabin. After a short trip on the highway, we turned onto a rutted dirt road and began a long slow climb to a plateau and the lake. My doubts started growing the longer we drove and the more remote we seemed to be.

After arriving, Maria showed me around while the men unloaded the luggage. The house was adobe with a veranda looking out over the lake to the northwest. A short distance away the ground continued to slope down, ending with limestone steps that dropped the final ten feet to a rock ledge with water up to the edge. It was a small cove of the lake surrounded by limestone cliffs, I started to warm to the idea, thinking this could be a very sexy vacation. We were in a romantic setting that was secluded and had our men all to our selves.

When we got back to the house, Hal, my husband, took me in his arms, kissed me and said, “Isn’t this a beautiful place Louise? I think you’ll love two weeks here, rather than sitting around in the hot city.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s beautiful. I think I’ll like it very much.” I saw Joe snuggling and kissing Maria. “Very much”, I thought to myself.

Several seconds later, Joe stepped back and said, “I’m glad you like the rancho Louise. You and Maria have everything here to enjoy your vacation. Hal and I will be back in two weeks, after our business trip.”

“What? You’re leaving us alone for two weeks?” I blurted out. “Hal, you never said anything about a trip. Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I thought I did dear. Maria said you would love the lake. That you’d prefer this to staying at home by yourself,” Hal said.

Without another word, they both gave us quick pecks and scurried out the door. I was left standing with my damp panties feeling like they were dashed with ice water. I turned towards Maria and she had a big grin on her face.

“Don’t worry Louise. I’ve spent many vacations here. I assure you, this will be the best vacation you’ve ever had,” she said, still grinning.”

I wondered to myself if she was in on the plan? We were good friends and usually, confided to each other everything, including about our affairs. She even told me about her trysts with women. Was that the plan; to get us alone so Maria could seduce me?

“What do you say we start relaxing right now? We can take a dip and wash the road dust off, then have a drink on the veranda and watch the sunset,” she said. Not waiting for me to answer, she turned and walked down towards the lake. I followed.

I had turned from heat to chills to burning with fury. I knew the men had set me up and I was mad as hell. At the shore, Maria stripped off everything and stepped into the water. She gingerly stepped down again as if searching for steps to take her farther into the water. She said, “Don’t dive in here. There’s a danger of hidden rocks everywhere.”

I did as she had, stripped and walked into the lake. I felt her eyes locked on my golden pussy. They were almost burning, so I hurried into the water, ignoring the sharp stones underfoot. The lake water still retained some of the day’s heat so it was relaxing and comfortable. After bathing for a while, Maria said, “Let’s go get those drinks.”

She walked out of the water ahead of me, slipped into her sandals and picked up her clothes. I thought she had the right idea. No need to put dirty clothes back on after just getting clean. The water had been comforting and I didn’t want to ruin the relaxed mood I was feeling. Maria was headed up the slope then paused, waiting for me. She linked her arm into mine and moved closer to me.

When we reached the veranda Maria let go of my arm and walked into the house. She came back out with a bottle of Riesling and two glasses in her hand. “That’s Hal’s favorite!” I immediately thought. “So this must be his contribution to my seduction. A doomed seduction! I don’t like being tricked.”

She filled the two glasses, handed one to me and took the other, lying down on a lounge chair. She didn’t bother getting dressed. Feeling more comfortable, I decided not to get dressed either. We lay there chatting and watching a colorful sunset across the upper end of the lake. We also did a lot of glancing at each other’s bodies. Her breasts were larger than mine, firm and upright. Her pussy was neatly trimmed into a strip, the hair stopping just above her lips.

I could understand why both men and women found her so desirable. Then I began wondering what she was Uzun porno thinking. I was comparing our bodies. I wondered if she was comparing our bodies as well. I hoped she found mine as attractive as I found hers? I had to stop thinking like this. I wasn’t going to let myself be trapped into their plan.

I noticed the sun was almost gone now and the wine was empty.

I looked at her as she said, “Let’s turn in. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow I’ll show you around the area. I know a beautiful swimming hole where we can do whatever we like, there’s also a nice ledge for sun bathing.”

I followed her into the house. She led me to the bedroom where I found our luggage. There was one large bed in the middle. I looked at her a bit concerned and asked, “Is this the only bedroom?”

“No, it’s the only one prepared now,” she answered. “We’ll share the bed tonight. My grandparents raised eight children in this house so there’s more than enough room for just two. We can clean up another room tomorrow, if you want.” I watched as she walked through a door and turned on a light in a bathroom.

I just stood stunned. My mind was racing as I thought about the day’s events. My reluctance the entire trip up here especially after seeing the seclusion, feeling comfortable with the beautiful setting I had warmed to the idea of spending a short vacation here with Hal. Remembering his kisses and the dampness that occurred.

But such hopes were dashed when the men left and I spent the day wondering if Maria would try to seduce me. It had taken me until dusk to accept that I could avoid a lesbian encounter, but the wine had me thinking, “Why or why not?” Now there was no avoiding sleeping in the same bed with my beautiful, sensuous friend. My mood now was not.

I could at least try. I opened my bag, pulled out a non-suggestive shirt and panties. I realized Maria had continued talking while in the bathroom and I hadn’t heard a word. “I’m through,” she said, walking out of the bath. “Your turn. I’m going to brush my hair here in the bedroom.”

Maria startled me out of my thoughts. She was still fully naked. I quickly slipped into the bath. I was met with another surprise, a beautiful surprise. Along the right wall were two copper washbowls set in a tile covered counter. Beyond, sat a large copper tub. The Talavera tiles extended as a half wall around the tube to a linen closet door, then into a large shower.

The tiles had a common pattern, but no two were exactly alike. The motif consisted of four delicate flowers, each sitting on the green leaves of a larger flower with an opening blossom. The arrangement was centered inside another single large bloom. The colors exuded sensuous temperatures, reds, yellows, and oranges against various shades of green forming the leaves and stems in the background.

Along the left wall were wood bars for face clothes and towels, also a pair of wood saloon doors. I peeked over the doors and saw a commode and bidet. It was a water closet. The urge hit me hard, so I put my things on the counter. I stepped into the closet to use the toilet after a long day. I kept looking at the bidet and thought, “I’ll have to try that while I’m here. Is it really as pleasant as they say?”

I finished, went back to the washbowl, ran some warm water and began lightly bathing. I brushed my teeth then picked up my shirt and panties. I put it back down and pulled out a vial of perfume. Dabbing a little on the delicate places of my body, I was ready for bed. I was tired of the mental yo-yoing. I walked back into the bedroom ready for whatever may happen.

Maria was already in bed, covered by a sheet. I could see she was asleep from her light, steady breathing. I guess she meant what she said, “A good night’s sleep.” I turned off the light and crawled under the sheet next to her. Luckily, I fell asleep in seconds with no more thoughts of the day.

I felt, more than saw flashes of white-hot light around my eyes. My vision was filled with a field of muted red. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw bright morning light streaming into the bedroom. I could even feel the heat building in the room. I was so rested that I just wanted to stay in bed, even though it was apparently late.

Scanning around the room, I saw all that I had missed last night. The furniture and trim was all dark wood. The aging had given everything a warm patina. The walls were filled with paintings and framed pictures, mostly of colorful flowers and old Mexican Mercado scenes. The few pictures were apparently of family. One had six couples surrounded by children, maybe twenty or more.

I looked to my side and saw rumpled sheets were a body had been, but was now empty. I remembered Maria had been there when I slipped under the sheets last night. The rambling thoughts of yesterday flitted through my mind, but I pushed them aside. I didn’t want that again. This was starting as a beautiful day, a day to be enjoyed. I was going to make sure that I did enjoy this Öğrenci porno vacation. And, I felt this was a perfect place to do just that.

I began brushing my hands along my body, over my breasts, down my stomach and across my blonde bush. I was thinking, “This room must be seducing me. Or maybe, I want Maria hands in place of my own.”

My fingers were moving back and forth the full length of my pleasure sheath, picking up my lubrication, then to my clit and twirling round gently before pinching it to erection. My other hand was alternately kneading my breasts, squeezing my nipples to high proud peaks.

My fingers started their familiar pattern, sliding lightly between my pussy lips, slowly probing two fingers in deep, then back to rub and toy with my clit. Each cycle was making me ascend to the heights. Over and over I climbed higher. I finally reached the apex having a mild but deeply pleasing climax.

I was still seeing a field of muted red as I gradually descended back down to feel that ultimate peace of release. My eyes flickered open and Maria was standing in the doorway watching me and smiling. I had kicked the sheet off and lay totally exposed before her, my fingers still stroking the light hairs of my bush. It was strange, I would normally have been embarrassed if even my husband saw me this way, but I was pleased that Maria caught me completely defenseless and pleasuring myself in her bed.

“I often start my days the same way,” she said. “If it’s a good one, I consider it a sign that the day will get even better.”

“But no encores today dear, breakfast will be ready by the time you cleanup and dress. A bathing suit and sneakers is all you need.” With that, she disappeared back toward the living room.

“Even better,” lingered in my mind as I swung my legs off the bed. The floor was paved with Saltillo tiles and small hand woven Mexican rugs, many with traditional Zapotec motifs. I hurried through a quick sink bath, brushed my teeth and used the water closet. Quickly pulling out my bathing suit and sneakers, I was dressed and out to the dining area in minutes. It was another astoundingly beautiful part of the house that begged me to linger and enjoy.

Maria placed some plates on the dinette, one containing small Huevos Chorizo wraps, and another with slices of fresh fruit, a third with small jalapeno corn cakes. She started eating right away, talking occasionally. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself here at the rancho,” she said. “The sun starts hitting the swimming spot in the creek about ten, so we have time to get there without hurrying. It’s one of my favorite places.

“It’s a short strenuous hike, so by the time we get there, a dip in the cold creek water will hit the spot just right and we’ll have a few hours to sun bath before losing the sun.”

“Why don’t we just go out front to the lake?” I asked.

“Because fishermen and boaters on the lake will ruin our privacy, I don’t like to draw attention from the wrong people. You’ll agree the creek is much better once you see it.”

We finished eating and cleaned away the dishes before she picked up a backpack and headed out the door. We walked up the road about a hundred yards. The road turned just before a big hill and went through a saddle. Maria also turned, but she took a path leading off into some trees and scrub brush. A couple of minutes saw us walking down slope into a small ravine carved out of limestone.

“Did all the beautiful woodwork and furnishings in the house come from the rancho?” I asked Maria.

“Some of it did. This is mostly mesquite and juniper here on the plateau. The oak and cedar comes from the valley below and along the river.” We were now walking on the limestone along side rushing, clear blue water. “This is Mexican Creek, the gem of the land grant that brought my ancestors to Texas. It comes from a spring farther up the hill. It’s probably from a cave river running through the plateau,” she said.

We were now descending rapidly to the east, walking directly into the hot August sun. A cooling breeze that flowed down the ravine pacing the water moderated the heat. It was a little strenuous like Maria had said, but still quite a pleasant hike. After about ten minutes, the creek turned sharply to the south. I could see what Maria meant about the sunning time starting about ten. The ravine walls were steep, cut from the limestone that now towered over a hundred feet high. The sun had not yet reached down to the water.

The nature of the creek changed. We where not descending as rapidly. The stream widened up to fifteen or twenty feet in some places. It was also shallower, two feet deep at the most. It flowed over long ledges of the limestone before cascading over the edge to drop about two feet. About ten minutes later, I saw the rock on either side pinch in and heard louder sounds of water splashing. When I saw it, the water was tumbling over the rocks through this narrow pinch.

It was a small waterfall pouring into a deep blue pool. Maria walked past the pool, stepping down several feet to a lower ledge that was mere inches above the water. She said, “Here it is. All ours and soon to be bathed with sunshine.” She removed her pack and started laying some towels out on the ledge. When she had completed making a place for us to sun ourselves, she dropped her robe and step into the stream. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s swim for a while.”

I dropped my robe and stepped in to join her, I could see through the crystal clear water. We were on a smooth limestone bed. The water was cold and felt refreshing after our hike down from the rancho. I followed Maria upstream toward the dark pool. Getting close to the dark water, she stopped at the edge of the crystal water, before diving in.

I could see the dark tone of her body and red bathing suit clearly until she went several feet underwater. The water was no longer blue. It was too deep for light to reflect back from the depths. Maria surfaced before the small waterfall and waved for me to join her. I did, coming up within inches of her body. “Isn’t this heavenly?” she asked, before pulling me to her and kissing me.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, but arousing. While I had been shivering from the cold water, I now felt the heat building between my thighs. Maria swam off a few feet, slipped her head underwater and I saw her legs come out as she dove down. Seconds later, her hands were running up the sides of my legs and waist before she popped up behind me. She kissed across my shoulders and neck before again swimming off.

As her legs again turned up above the water, I dipped my head and dove. I could see her floating under the water, almost as if she were waiting for me. I didn’t hesitate. I swam toward her and between her legs. I stroked quickly on her inner thighs before surfacing again. She wasn’t up yet, so I dove under again. She was still floating there, turned away from me. I swam in and pressed my body against her back and caressed her as she began to surface. The full length of her back and butt slowly rubbed against my breasts on her way up.

We continued to play our games. Diving under, caressing new parts of each other’s body. Surfacing for air then diving under again. Maria added kissing to our underwater game with very un-sisterly kisses. Then, on one dive, Maria moved in close and pulled my suit top down exposing my very hard nipples and kissed them, sucking gently.

Surfacing for more air, I dove back down quickly. Maria soon came into view, but there was no red swim top. I knew what she wanted. I did too. I swam toward her as she rolled over to point her breasts upward. We came together in sort of an abbreviated 69 position. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth just before she started to nibble on mine. I felt ravenous, sucking her nipples alternately like I had to have all of her right now. That was a mistake.

In my hurry, I sucked in water as well and began to choke. Maria broke off to pull me back to the surface. Then like a lifesaver, she floated me back to the ledge and shallow water. “Look’s like a good time to get some sun and rest,” she said. Standing up, she wrapped her arm around me and we walked the short distance back to our towels.

While I started to dry, Maria stripped her bottoms, pulled some suntan lotion from her bag and sat down on the towel closest to the water. She said, “Lay down on your stomach Louise. I’ll apply some lotion to your back.” It was obvious that she planned to sunbath in the nude, so I removed my suit too. Liquid seeped from my pussy. I didn’t know if it was creek water or my own fluids, it could have been either.

Maria began rubbing the lotion on my calves, slowly working northward to my thighs. As she rubbed my inner thighs, she never quite touched my treasure. Oh, I wanted it so much. She moved farther north to cover my buttocks, then my lower back. When she reached my upper back, I pulled my hair aside and she applied the lotion across my shoulders and neck. All the time she was talking about my body, how pretty or beautiful each part was. Finally, slipping her hand under me, she lifted to indicate that I should roll over.

I rolled to my back as Maria continued to rub the lotion into my shoulders and neck before covering both of my arms. She returned to my torso and slowly massaged my breasts with the suntan lotion. She grew silent now, just caressing my breasts for the longest time. I watched as Maria moved lower to my stomach, then out to cover my hips and back into the top of my thighs. She was staring at my light patch of blonde hair as she started working on my inner thighs. She appeared to be transfixed, even as she moved south to rub my shins and feet. She was looking straight up between my legs. I knew I was flooding now. I knew she could see it, too.

“My turn,” was all she said as she lay down on her towel. I began applying the suntan lotion in silence. I was finding every part of her body beautiful. I was hoping more time like this was to come. Once she had turned over, I took my time on her breasts returning an equally long time to her massage. Only I was already staring at her neatly trimmed pussy hair and the steady flow that she was exuding.

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

Boob Man

Nis 13, 2024 Posted by:  admin No Comments

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

Bbw

“Please.”

His warm, smooth hand covered mine on the doorknob. I had been on my way out the door when he stopped me.

All he had to do was simply place his hand on mine and stand close to me. The angry fire in me had already dissipated before I reached the door, and he knew it.

We’d had an argument, a “row,” as he put it. “He” was my boyfriend — my impossibly sexy British boyfriend. He was tall and dark and handsome, of course. And he had a charm to him that simply had me spellbound. He was a good man; he was kind to me. I could never stay angry at him for very long.

“Please,” he repeated. His deep, gravelly voice had a pleading tone to it, a sharp contrast that always made me melt. “Let me suckle.”

It was always what he needed after we’d had a fight.

He obviously had some mommy issues — it probably had something to do with being sent away to boarding school at such a young age — but I really didn’t want to go there. Pondering his Freudian fixations would do nothing but kill my libido, and the reasons didn’t matter anyway.

He needed it, and I was more than willing to give it to him.

There was a ritual to how I serviced him.

I took him by the hand and led him to the sofa. After he sat down, I seductively climbed up in his lap and straddled him.

When we did this, he always looked up at me as if he was entranced. He leaned his head back against the top of the sofa cushions, and his eyes glazed over as he stared up at me, his lips slightly parted. But as I began to unbutton my gauzy blouse, his focus inevitably moved from my face to my breasts.

He watched in silence with bated breath as I slipped my blouse off my shoulders and let it drop to the sofa. His focus was now entirely on my black lace bra and what it held.

There was nothing my boyfriend liked more than to experience my breasts. Of course, he enjoyed other parts of me, too, but he was a boob man to the extreme. I’m sure that’s a big part of the reason he was attracted to me in the first place. My hefty double D’s attracted the attention of many men, even those who preferred Avrupalı porno legs and asses.

So as I straddled him wearing nothing but my bra above my waist, he bent his head forward and began to nuzzle. His closely cropped scruff grazed my delicate skin. I could feel his hot breath playing on the tops of my breasts and in my tight cleavage.

His nuzzling was gentle as he brushed his face against the fleshy mounds spilling over the top of my bra. He softly nosed and kissed me there as his hands traveled slowly up my bare back.

It didn’t take long, though, for his gentle treatment to become more urgent. It started with him getting a little vocal. Slight moans and whimpers escaped his throat as his kisses and caresses became more feverish. His eyes were closed and his cheeks flushed as he became more desperate to bury his face in my flesh.

At this point, I gently but firmly threaded my fingers in his hair and guided his head back. In his daze, he complied, leaning back against the sofa and staring up at me with half-lidded eyes.

I reached behind my back with both hands and unclasped my bra. His eyes widened and his breath hitched as the bra dropped slowly, revealing more and more flesh until my tits were completely naked before him.

Hunger shone in his bright green eyes as he stared, taking in the glorious sight of my giant breasts. Then he raised up and, with a muffled moan, pressed his face in between them.

His hands left my hips and cupped the undersides of my bare breasts, caressing them and pushing them together as his face wallowed in my cleavage. His breathing got faster as he frantically moved his head back and forth between my tits, his open mouth grazing them as he went.

He began to lick and suck, his tongue and teeth and lips having their way with my boobs.

But it wasn’t until he came up for air and leaned back again that I started to get really aroused. It was because at this point, he began to focus on my nipples.

The first thing he did was place a hand on each boob so that his thumbs were positioned Video porno on my large, rosy nipples. And then, very lightly, he stroked his thumbs across and around them. They tightened instantly, jutting out in my arousal.

Now it was my turn to groan. His touch sent me into abandon. I leaned my head back as he did his work, at the same time arching my back and thrusting my jiggling tits toward him as an offering.

It was as if my nipples were buttons to my sex drive. Warm, thrilling sensations emanated directly from my sensitive nipples and spread throughout my body. It was almost as powerful as a genuine orgasm.

And then, as he continued thumbing one of my nipples, he took the other in his hot, wet mouth. My head still thrown back, I could hear him faintly moan as he began to suck.

The nipple sucking effectively sent me over the edge. My hips bucked in his lap and I wrapped my arms around his head and urged him to my breast.

“Oh!” I couldn’t control my voice as his hands clutched at my tits and he hungrily sucked for all he was worth. It was a beautiful sight to look down and see him latched to my tit, his eyes closed in his own ecstasy.

“Oh!” His mouth now turned its attentions to my other nipple, pulling and tonguing as he sucked and sucked.

I pressed my crotch into him and smoothly grabbed handfuls of his shaggy hair as his lips moved from one nipple to the other, back and forth, back and forth, licking and sucking and teasing and gently grazing my huge tits. In his haze of pleasure, his long, slender fingers clutched and kneaded and fondled me.

He took my magnificent tits in spilling handfuls, pulling at them as he lolled his tongue around my now distended nipples, gently nipping at them and then kissing and sucking.

Soon, he wanted to completely have me.

“Please,” he groaned quietly. “Let me have pussy.”

I always let him have what he wanted.

Slowly, I stood up from straddling him and stepped back. As he watched with intense, frowning concentration, I reached my hands behind my waist and unzipped my skirt. Carefully and sensually, I worked it down — down my hips, down my thighs, until it was in a heap on the floor.

My black lace panties were all that I now wore, and they soon went the way of my skirt, until I was standing before my boyfriend completely naked. My pussy was shaved bare and ready for the taking.

He liked me to be completely naked while he stayed fully clothed. So I stepped forward, reached down at his crotch, and simply unzipped his pants and let his straining dick spring free.

I straddled his lap again. My slit was dripping wet, so all I had to do was line it up at the tip of his long, thick pole and sink down.

“Uhnnnnn,” his groan was low and lingering as I took him in to the hilt.

As I rode his cock, I put a lot of effort into making my titties bounce for him. I arched my back in my own pleasure, but it added to his as my boobs thrust forward, bouncing high and proudly on my chest.

With his hands gripping my hips, he ducked his head forward and lustily sucked my tits, then leaned back and just watched them shake and sway and jiggle. It was almost as if the fucking his cock was getting was secondary to the show of jouncing boobs.

With his hands placed at the base of my titties, he lifted and fondled them, feeling their weight. He pushed up with both hands, taking as much of my tits as he could into his hands. He grasped them, and then clutching them around my nipples, he squeezed. That effectively elongated my nipples, which he now desperately suckled.

As he sucked, I stopped riding him up and down and instead began a slow, circular grind at the base of his cock. His groans were muffled by the mouthful of nipple, but I could tell they were getting louder.

Grinding into him, it wasn’t long before warm waves of pleasure rose up from my stimulated clit. Suddenly, I was clenched tightly around his cock. I threw my head back and gasped in my ecstasy.

At the same time, he pressed both hands against my back, urging my breasts into his face. It was now completely engulfed as, with his mouth still latched onto a nipple and his hips heaving, he unloaded deep within me.

When he finally released my nipple and came up for air, he looked up at me with his disheveled hair and flushed face and breathed, “Let’s have another row soon.”

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

« Önceki sayfa Sonraki sayfa »
mersin escort bursa escort bayan görükle escort bursa escort bursa merkez escort bayan malatya escort şişli escort mecidiyeköy escort sex hikaye sex hikayeleri otele gelen escort çankaya escort beşiktaş escort bakırköy escort kayseri escort bakırköy escort antep escort seks hikayeleri gaziantep escort bahçeşehir escort Escort ankara Ankara escort bayan Ankara rus escort Eryaman escort bayan Etlik escort bayan Ankara escort bayan Escort sincan Escort çankaya sincan escort dikmen escort Escort bayan Escort bayan bahisu.com girisbahis.com keçiören escort etlik escort kocaeli escort kocaeli escort film izle şişli escort taksim escort izmir escort izmir escort izmir escort ankara escort beylikdüzü escort Anadolu Yakası Escort Kartal escort Kurtköy escort Maltepe escort Pendik escort Kartal escort kırklareli escort kırşehir escort kocaeli escort konya escort kütahya escort malatya escort manisa escort maraş escort mardin escort mersin escort Antalya escort hurilerim.com escort kuşadası escort bayan antalya rus escort Escort görükle escort bayan escort escort escort travestileri travestileri balçova escort alsancak escort gaziemir escort bornova escort konak escort buca escort karşıyaka escort mersin escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort xnxx Porno 64 alt yazılı porno bursa otele gelen escort bursa escort bayan porno izle şişli escort gaziantep escort istanbul travesti istanbul travesti istanbul travesti ankara travesti Moda Melanj Bahis sitesi porno porno gaziantep escort