FOR THE LOVE OF SEX
By: The Colonel
FOR THE LOVE OF SEX By The Colonel
My husband and I were way over due for a holiday. He had just gotten an assistant promoted and replaced the guy with a very large black guy from a larger station of the company he worked for. We had him over for dinner a couple of times since he had come to work for my husband with plans to bring his wife and children to our city a bit later, after the school year was out.
Then all of a sudden, my husband was telling me that we were going to leave town for one of the many lakes in the area. He had made plans to rent a cabin next to the lake and had also, made plans to bring the new black guy with us.
The young man had already agreed to come to the lake with us and all indications were, he was looking forward to going. My husband, Ken had told him that all work and no play made things a bit difficult for anyone trying to learn a new job.
On Saturday, we left the house about 6:30 in the morning. It took us about 2 and a half hours to get from our home, to the cabin at the lake. When we got there, we ask Pete, the young fella, to help us bring some of the stuff inside. We had blankets, and food we intended to put in the refrigerator. There were chairs and stools we intended to use by the fire, and a small grill.
When we left the house, before picking up Pete at his hotel, Ken and I had put our bathing suits on so we wouldn't have to change at the cabin. We had planned to rent a boat and go out on the lake. We had done this many times. I was a bit worried this time because the last time we had came to the lake, ken had gotten a bit too drunk and fell asleep for a long time. I was beside myself looking for something to do, so I just went walking.
When we got to the lake wearing our swim suits, we looked like everyone else. Almost everyone that was at or around the lake, was wearing a swim suit. I was always a little nervous when I wore a bathing suit, because I was always a little shy about another man seeing the body that my suite showed off. My hips were a bit wide for my age but my breast were extra large and I had difficulty getting covered up like I'd like. The suite was an old one and while it covered my breast, it was a bit tight around my ass and I kept having to adjust it to cover up. If I wasn't careful, it would creep up into my ass and cunt and one could see the hairs on each side of my bottom and after a while, if I didn't adjust it, the suite would work it's way up and into my cunt crack. Then, it was like having nothing on at all. Also, if I wasn't careful, my boobs would fall out of the suite and I'd end up having to put em back. By then it would be too late, someone would have already seen em. Ken always told me that from the front or the back, my shape was a real turn on for him or anyone else that might be looking. That however, was not my intentions, at all.
It was around eleven in the morning when Ken made the announcement that we were going to go rent the boat and go out on the lake. We had taken into the cabin most of the stuff from the van and Pete had just slipped into the boxer type, swim trunks that Ken had loaned him. Pete was a bit larger then Ken so the trunks seemed to be a bit small for him. But he looked good in them.
We got the boat rented and gassed up and I was driving the boat on the lake. Ken and Pete were sitting behind me on the padded seats. The lake was a big one and I always enjoyed driving the boat because it would allow ken and whoever he was with to sit back and drink their beer. I wouldn't have to worry about Ken driving the boat drunk, if I was driving. Every once in a while I'd turn and look back to see what the guys were doing. Both were sitting there drinking beer, but one thing I caught was Pete was sitting there, relaxed, drinking his beer. However, his legs were apart and his cock and balls were almost out of the swim suite. I couldn't help but notice how big Pete's cock was even in the soft position. It was huge. The whole tip of his cock was hanging out of his suite. There must have been at least two and a half inches in view, and considering how he was sitting, there must have been another five inches under the suite that wasn't showing. I turned around and continued to drive the boat.
My only problem was, it looked like Ken, at the rate he was going, was gonna drink too much. As he did on most occasion like this.
It was about six in the evening when I got instructions from Ken to take the boat in. The plan was for us to go in and light the grill and put some hot dogs on the fire. We pulled in and parked the boat where we were supposed to and we all went up to the cabin. Ken broke out another beer. He was already beginning to stagger around and slur his words. It was Pete who helped me from the boat.
We got the hot dogs on the grill and after we all got some to eat, Pete and I began to clean up. Ken was sitting in his lounge chair and was having trouble staying awake.
It was about ten thirty when we all decided to go inside the cabin and go to bed. Ken and Pete went inside and got in the only bed. After I'd finished putting things away, I went in and took my cloths off and got in the shower. In the shower I soaped my long, lean body. I lathered my ample full tits. I ran both hands down my gorgeous stomach and on down to my pussy. I soaped the folds, which were engorged and making copious amounts of their own wetness. I began to rub my clit and inserted a couple of finger which rocked my body. "Ahhhhh" I Moaned a Delicious noise and began to shudder and my whole body began to jerk. I felt as if something was about to snap. When I came out of the shower, Finally, it was because I could take no more,
I wasn't worried about disturbing either of them, because they'd been drinking all day. After I'd finished with the shower, I slipped a set of panties on and one of my half slips over my breast. Ken was under the covers, and Pet had laid down on top of those covers, but we had a cooler on and Pete had covered up with a blanket. At some time Ken had managed to get it spread on top of him, also.
I climbed up into the middle of the bed and covered up with the other half of the blanket. I snugged up against Ken and was just about asleep when I felt Pete behind me. I was lying on my side with my arms around Ken's waist and my head on his pillow. He was sound asleep. Then I felt Pete lay his hand on my hip. I froze. I thought it best to try and get him to think I was asleep also. Pete moved his hand up and down my hip. Then he slid his hand around in front and under the panties. Suddenly, his hand was gripping my pussy and pubic area. I didn't move. He moved his hand further down and slid a finger into my pussy. He began to rub my clit and shove his middle finger in deeper and found My G spot. He was working in and out and rubbing my clit and I was having trouble not moving. God it felt so good.
All the while, I was thinking about Pete's cock and the size of it. I'll have to admit with him rubbing me and me thinking about his cock, I was getting hot. Ken didn't know anything was going on. Then Pete began to move his hand up my body. Soon he had one of my breast and was massaging it and playing with my nipple. I didn't move, but it was difficult. I was on fire. Every thing Pete was doing felt so very good to me. I was surprised at my self.
The next thing I knew, Pete had moved his hand from my breast and slid his fingers down and under the waist of my panties and began to shove em down. That way one half of my body was almost free of cloths and bare. He brought his hand back up and moved it back and inserted a couple of his fingers into my pussy. With his thumb, he began to rub my clit and it was beginning to feel so good, I just couldn't hold still.
I began to hump his fingers and thumb. Then I began to turn sideways, which allowed him better access to my pussy. The next thing I knew was when Pete began to remove my panties. Then he put his two fingers back into my pussy and his thumb back on my clit. I continued to hump his fingers and thumb. Ken was so sound asleep, he just didn't know what was going on right next to him. It seemed Pete's finger fucked me for a long time, then I realize, he had moved down and was licking and eating my pussy. My juices were flowing, I could tell. All of a sudden, I climaxed. I began to hump and jerk and spasm. The sounds coming from me, I couldn't believe. I was grunting and whining like a small puppy. When I finished climaxing, I realized Pete was working himself up on top of me. He had moved the blanket and I could feel his hard on dragging up my legs. My God, how was I going to take that big cock, and was he gonna fuck me right next to my husband right there in the same bed. By this time, I was so hot, I would have fucked anybody. By this time I was laying flat and I had spread my legs wide so Pete could get good access to my pussy. He placed the big tip of his cock at the enterance to my pussy and was rubbing it up and down the lips of my pussy and one could hear the sushi sound it made. Then he began to shove it in slowly.
?Ohhhhh God, that feels so good.? The words were just flowing out of my mouth. Once again, I began to whine and grunt. I also began to jerk and spasm because his cock felt so wonderful. Ken never even stirred. He was out and I was so glad.
Pete ended up getting about eight inches of his hard cock into me and it felt wonderful. Then I began to cum again. He was really giving it to me and I was jerking and spasming, grunting and whining again. Then he suddenly pulled out and moved up my body. He began to fuck my breast and each time his cock would come through, he reached up and put his hand on the top of my head and he'd move my head forward so that when his cock came out of my breast, it would go into my mouth. He told me to push my tits together, and that's what I did. It didn't matter, I began to suck on his cock and it wasn't long he began to shoot his load into my mouth. I swallowed as much of it as I could, but I could only handle about half of it. The rest just squirted out of my mouth around his cock and landed on my neck and chest. Both of us were grunting and making all kinds of weird sounds. I was really afraid we were going to wake up Ken, but he never moved.
It was then that Pete reached up and put his hands on my waist. He lifted me up and flipped me over on my stomach. I could feel him spreading my legs apart. Then he took his hand and shoved it into my pussy. His whole hand. At first it hurt, then it began to feel better. First he put all four of his fingers inside me, then he began to try and get the rest of his hand up in my pussy. It was right after he got his hand to go in, he began to pump in and out of my pussy. By this time, it was feeling good. It wasn't long, before I was cumming again. Then he removed his hand and straddled me. His cock was right at my ass hole. First he shoved his cock into my pussy to get it nice and wet. Then he pulled out and began shoving it into my ass. No one had ever done that to me before. At first it hurt like when he shoved his hand into my pussy. It hurt a lot. He was so big. Then after about two minutes, it began to feel better. After a few more minutes, it began to feel real good. I raised my ass up to meet his big cock. Then I began to climax again. This time my whole body began to shudder. I started jerking and spasm once again.
The words began to flow out of me, ?Ohhhh God, fuck me some more. I love it. No one has ever done me so good.? I must have been loud, because Ken began to stir. He smacked and turned over, then he went back to sleep. Then Pete pulled out of me and moved over and stood next to the bed. He stood where his cock was in my face. He said,
?Suck it again.? I opened my mouth and took as much of him in my mouth as I could. It only took him a couple of minutes to shoot off into my mouth again. Then he simply got in bed and went to sleep. I got up into bed in the middle and during the night, I worked my way over and sucked him off a couple of more times. Once Pete made some noise and he woke up Ken, but he just rolled over and went back to sleep.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Mom Gets Pounded Because Daughter Is Grounded
By: Stormbringer (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Mom Gets Pounded Because Daughter Is Grounded Copyright 2005 by Stormbringer
Megan tied the belt on her robe as she walked down the stairs. She was running the water into her tub and planning a long luxurious soak. Her husband was off on another week-long business trip. Megan used these times to relax and catch up on her reading.
Megan entered her kitchen and retrieved some orange juice from the refridgerator. She heard her daughter's voice coming from outside. Michelle was on the phone and had left the screen door open.
"It's ok Nigel, mom's taking a bath. I'm sorry I haven't called. Yeah, I miss you too."
Megan felt her cheeks flush as she listened in on her daughter's conversation. Nigel was her daughter's new boyfriend and Michelle had been walking around all dreamy eyed since she'd met him.
A few days earlier, Megan had caught her daughter talking to one of her friends. Apparently, the reason Michelle hadn't introduced Nigel to her parents was that the boy was a twenty year old high school senior and Michelle had only just turned fifteen. Megan had immediately ordered Michelle to quit seeing the boy. Now here she was talking to him on the phone.
"I want to touch your thing again. I'm ready Nigel. I want that big dick of yours to pop my cherry." Michelle looked up and saw her mom standing at the door. "Oh shit! Mom!"
Megan pulled the screen door open and stormed over to her daughter. "Give me the phone," she demanded snatching it from her daughter's hand. "Listen up Nigel. If I ever catch you near my daughter, I'll have you locked up." Megan hung up the phone.
"But mom, I love him."
"You are grounded young lady. Go to your room."
"I hate you, you bitch." Michelle entered the house crying.
Megan started crying herself. This Nigel kid was bad news. Michelle had always been a good girl. Suddenly, she was wearing low riding jeans with the straps of her thong hanging out. Her shirts were small, tight, and everything showed her navel. Her bra showed her cleavage which was impressive on breasts nearing a D-cup in size. Michelle would eventually inherit, Megan's double Ds.
Megan sighed. She looked at her juice and decided it needed spicing up a little. Megan walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured some vodka into her orange juice. She mixed it pretty strong, but hell, she wouldn't be driving.
Megan locked the doors and headed back upstairs and was just in time to stop the tub from overflowing. Megan drained the tub a little and added some bath salts.
Megan walked over to the mirror and let her robe fall to the ground. It was her habit to examine herself before her baths. No one would of mistaken her for a mother of a fifteen year old daughter. She had long straight brownish blonde hair, big full lips and piercing green eyes. Now her eyes were streaked with red from crying. Her crows feet only appeared when she smiled and she looked ten years younger. Michelle's large bosum made most people assume she was at least twenty, so many assumed mother and daughter were really sisters only a few years apart in age.
Megan was also quite tall measuring a little over six feet. Hair, bosum, and height were all part of her Nordic/Germanic heritage and her daughter was following in Megan's footsteps. Megan was also quite fit and trim. She struggled daily to keep her tummy flat and her body firm. Her fit body, height, and large chest made her look like a comic book super-heroine come to life. Of course, the reality was lower back pain and a serious consideration to have her breasts reduced.
Megan slid her nude body into the tub. Taking it slowly as her body became used to the heat. She sighed, laying back to relax a bit before taking another sip of her drink. Megan grabbed her razor and lifted one long leg out of the water. She shaved her leg and then did the other one. Her husband was away, but Megan liked to show off her legs with short skirts and shaved them daily. Afterwards, she shaved her armpits and lifted her body out of the water enough to give a quick shave to her pubic region. Her bush matched her hair and was prone towards bushiness. She kept it trim and short with only a small triangle of hair on her crotch.
After shaving, Megan washed her face and slid her entire head under water for a moment. When she came up for air her hair looked brown and clung wetly to her head. She took the jasmine scented soap and lathered her arms and shoulders before moving down her chest. Megan gasped as the soap slid over her nipple. Her nipples had always been sensitive and the simple touch had sent a spasm through her vagina. Her nipples were also pointy and thick. They were prone to harden often and were easily noticable through Megan's bras. She often covered them with bandaids to protect them and to keep men from looking at her chest when they talked to her. Both nipples were hard and aching now.
Megan rubbed the soap around under her breasts before sliding it over her tummy. Lastly she lathered her crotch and slid the soap along her thighs. She was tempted to let her hand linger between her legs, but she hadn't masturbated since getting married. The drink and rubbing her nipples was making her horny. She still had a week until her husband got back to take care of her needs and even then he'd only be home for a few days.
Megan rinsed and relaxed for around fifteen minutes before pulling the plug on the drain. She lifted herself out of the water and toweled herself dry. The last step in her bath was to rub baby oil over her entire body. She believed the oil kept her skin smooth and youthful looking. Her skin was slick and glistening when she pulled her robe back on. She quickly brushed her wet hair.
Megan passed Michelle's room and listened a the door. There was no noise until Megan started to walk off. Then she heard a giggle. Megan quickly pulled the door open. Michelle was sitting at her desk at her computer. Her bedroom window was open next to her. "What are you doing?" asked Megan.
"I'm chatting with Kimmy." Michelle looked nervous. Her eyes darted to the window. Just a few years ago, Michelle had been a tomboy climbing in and out of her room by the big oak tree outside her window.
Megan locked eyes with her daughter and they stared until the fifteen year old looked away. Megan looked at the open window. It was hot and a cool breeze blew in through the window. Could she still trust her daughter? Would she sneak out to meet this Nigel character? Megan made up her mind instantly. "Young lady, grounded means grounded. That means no cell, no computer, and no tv." Her daughter had all three things in her room. "You're sleeping in my room tonight young lady."
"I'm not staying with you." Michelle crossed her arms and pouted.
"Then I'll stay here." Megan grabbed Michelle's arm and pulled her out into the hall. The teenager shuffled her feet as her mother dragged her into the master bedroom. "I'll wake you before school," said the mom shutting the door. Megan still didn't trust her daughter. The frustrated mother walked determindly to the closet and took the vacuums extension cord. She tied the cord around the door knob and the other end around the stair well. Michelle could get out with a struggle, but Megan hoped the noise might awaken her. Otherwise, she felt her daughter and her daughter's virginity were safely locked up for the night.
The frustrated young moher stormed back downstairs and fixed herself another screwdriver. She thought about calling her husband, but they had agreed to talk every other night when he was gone. He would flip when she told him that his precious angel was looking to give up her cherry to some twenty year old boy still in high school.
Megan refilled her drink and headed upstairs to spend the night in her daughter's room. Megan turned off her daughter's computer and sat down on the bed. It was a typical teenage girl's bed with pink sheets and two teddy bears laying against the pillows. Megan grabbed one teddy bear and hugged it to herself looking much like a teenage girl herself.
Megan surveyed the room. One wall held a poster of someone named Orlando Bloom. She didn't see what was so special about him. The other wall showed a poster of Justin Timberlake. He had his shirt open and Megan easily understood why that poster was on the wall. There was a third poster of Prince Harry.
On the desk rested a picture of Michelle and her friends in bikinis at the pool from last year. Looking at her daughter's bikini clad body, Megan was actually thankful, Michelle had made it this far without losing her virginity.
Also on the desk sat her daughter's school notebook. On the cover were hearts with Michelle plus Bobby (a nice kid she had grown up with) and Michelle plus Tom (her tutor). They had gone to the movies chaparoned by Michelle's father. Both boy's names were crossed out.
Multiple new hearts read, Michelle plus Nigel, Michelle plus Nig, and Mrs Nigel Jefferson written down. Megan flipped the notebook over and gasped at a doodle her daughter had drawn. The doodle was of a large penis drawn with a pen. She'd colored the inside of the penis with the pen to darken it. The outline of a small arm reached out for the penis with the hand touching the tip. The penis was overproportioned and as big as the arm. Michelle had mentioned touching the boy's thing in the phone conversation she had overheard. This boy was definetly bad news.
Michelle also had a small clothing box sitting on her bed. Megan opened the box and pulled out some skimpy underwear from some lingerie store. The panty was little more then strings with a patch of cloth. The bra was a little better, but sheer enough to leave nothing to the imagination. Megan considered the underwear to be quite sleazy even slutty. She knew instinctively that Michelle had bought it for Nigel.
Megan was a little tipsy by this time. The atmosphere of the room had her feeling like a teenager again. She even giggled as she laid out the underwear and stood. Her hand reached for the belt of her robe...
Big Nig almost fell out of the tree branch when Michelle's mom took her robe off. Gawd damn, did Michelle's hot mother have some big titties. If they weren't sagging a little and if Michelle wasn't on her way to having tits just as big, Nigel would of assumed they were implants. The hot blonde milf looked like a nude supergirl. If supergirl worked on the pole or made porno movies.
Nude was nice, but she looked even hotter when she turned to try on Michelle's underwear. The milf turned her back to him and bent down. Her long legs tensed and a firm milky white ass thrust out at him. Her ass cheeks parted and he got a quick peek at her gash as she pulled the thong up. Nigel's cock was achingly hard at this point and watching her cram her oversized tittys into a too small bra didn't help. When she managed to hook the bra, her titties were thrust forward and upwards. He could clearly see some rose colored nipples pushing at the material. The nipples were large and sized for her big bosum. Nigel had come here to get laid and looking at the mother, he decided it would be with her.
Big Nig froze as she strolled over to the window. He prayed she wasn't about to shut it. He was dressed in black and his skin was a very dark black. Provided he didn't smile, she wouldn't see him. Her breasts hung like udders as she leaned out and took some deep breaths of the cool night air. Luckily, the milf didn't close the window when she went back in. Instead, dressed only in her daughter's bra and panties, the milf left the room and entered the bathroom across the hall. Nigel slipped inside the room and dropped some ecstasy into the milf's drink.
Big Nig was bad news. He hated the name Nigel because he thought it sounded like a British faggot's name. After fucking a few of the high school girls, he'd picked up the nickname Big Nig. He liked it.
Nigel had failed grades twice and found himself a twenty year old senior in high school. Nor would he be graduating this year, but the school was about to kick him out before he turned twentyone. He didn't care. He only showed up at school because he pedaled XTC and occassionally some weed.
This year he had scored big selling XTC to half the senior class. He'd even nailed some cheerleaders in exchange for more XTC. The cheerleaders had given him the nickname Big Nig. He still fucked them, but now they paid for their drugs like everyone else. They fucked him because they loved it.
Michelle had started hanging out with some girl's whose boyfriends were white, hiphop wannabes. The stupid white kids thought they were cool and tried to hang with Nigel and his brothers. One day, Big Nig had found himself alone with Michelle when her friends were off smoking weed and listening to rap. He had slipped a little X into the girl's beer. The drug helped loosen her up enough to touch his cock when he whipped it out. He was going in for a feel on her big titties when her friends had decided it was time to go.
He set out to seduce her by being overly nice to the impressionable young girl. It had worked. He'd gotten her to dress sluttier, but had never had another chance to be alone with her. He'd also freaked when he heard how young she was. He assumed she was a seventeen or eighteen year old senior, not a fifteen year ofd sophmore. Her age wasn't about to stop him. He was going to get his hands on her big white titties and his cock up her pussy no matter what. Even if it did send him to jail.
Now Big Nig watched as something even better walked into the bedroom. The milf took a big swig of the orange juice. She laid down on the bed and drank some more before turning out the light. She never saw the pill disolving in her drink.
Megan suddenly woke up. She didn't know how long she had slept and was confused as to where she was. Strangely, she didn't feel tired nor hung over from the booze. She felt fantastic! Her entire body felt alive. The bed sheet seemed to caress her skin in a dozen or so places. Her nipples were swollen and they ached. They ached bad enough, she quickly unhooked the tight bra. She moaned once as her nipples came free of the bra, then she immediately missed the contact as her nipples ached for attention. She stretched once making her muscles tingle. Steretching had never felt so good. Megan was also conscioulsy very aware of the thong underwear between her ass cheeks and that her vagina was soaking the material on the front of the panty. She lifted her hips and pulled the pantys off hoping they weren't ruined.
Megan suddenly felt very lonely. She wanted to hug and hold someone. She wasn't just horny. She wanted companionship. She pulled back the covers and was on her way to her daughter's room to hug Michelle. They would hold each other and cry and afterwards all would be right with the world. Then she realized someone was standing over her undressing. "You're early," she said assuming her husband had gotten home. "Come hold me, honey." Megan didn't want her husband slipping onto his side of their king-sized bed and falling asleep. Oddly, her bed felt smaller then usual.
Megan needn't have worried. When he joined her he was practically right on top of her. A hand touched her leg and moved up to her knee. Her husband swung over and kneeled between her feet. He bent down and a wet kiss landed on her stomach. Another kiss found her navel and his tongue slipped inside. Her body was so alive with sensation, even his kissing over her belly felt incredible. And the kisses were moving down. "You know I don't like that," she reminded her husband, but her body was tensing with anticipation. "Well, maybe just toNIGHT." Her voice rose in pitch as his kisses fell on her pussy lips. A long wet tongue quickly worked it's way between them.
Her hands first pushed against, then gripped tightly, big strong shoulders. She gripped them tighter as she came. Her hands moved up her husband's cheeks and into his hair. He'd gotten it cut short, almost military style. She gripped his head tighter as his tongue burrowed deeper.
His hair felt strange, curlier, even kinky. Megan nearly ripped the hair out of his head as his fingers clamped down over her nipples. Muscular arms had encircled her thighs as his tongue lapped her pussy. His hands had come up to her breasts. Her husband was squeezing her erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, jerking on them a lot rougher then usual. Her pelvis was uncontrollable as it bucked up into his thursting tongue. She had the biggest orgasm of her life.
Megan was still gasping for breath and seeing stars in the dark room when the kisses started moving up her belly again. They paused beneath one of her breasts. His hot tongue pushed out of his lips and licked up her large breast until it found her nipple. Megan's body writhed uncontrollably as his tongue flicked over her nipple before sucking the entire tip into his lips. She nearly had another orgasm just from having her nipple sucked. Goosebumps grew on her other nipple just as he moved his mouth over to it.
Megan couldn't take it anymore she needed his dick inside her. Her hands grabbed her husband's back. It felt like she had grabbed a hard brick wall instead of the usual folds of flesh. She pulled him upwards. "Fuck me," she blurted out. "Fuck me right now." Megan only used the word "fuck" when she was really into the sex. She hadn't said the word in seven years.
What felt like the hard head of a nightstick pushed into her thigh, hard enough she expected a bruise. The big, hard club slid up over her pussy hair until the head pushed over her belly button. Megan open her legs wide as his hips slid between her thighs. Her husband appeared to have grown a great big horse cock just when she needed it the most. The huge cock worked it's way back down her crotch until the head pushed between her legs.
The tip of her husband's cock felt like it was as big as a golfball. It was so big, hard, and unyeilding, her pussy opened wide for it even though it felt like she was stretching wider then ever. Her legs opened wider then normal too as they wrapped around another surprise, a hard muscular ass.
Everything felt out of proportion. It wasn't so much that hubby felt bigger. Megan felt like she had shrunk. Her husband was several inches shorter then her six foot frame, Normally, he'd nuzzle her neck as they fucked. Now he was kissing her neck and his back was stil arched because he had only placed the head of his fat cock inisde her pussy.
Megan's husband was rotating his hips trying to work his new and improved penis deeper. The image of her husband standing over her naked body and popping a handful of Viagra popped into her mind. Whatever he'd done, this penis felt good. It was almost too good. The shaft was scraping every nerve ending in her pussy and now it felt like it was reaching new territory. Plus, his back was still hunched like he had a lot more to give her.
It occured to Megan that her husband had an important meeting tomorrow and shouldn't of been home. Not that she was complaining as this was turning into the fuck of her life. Plus, she needed his help to punish Michelle. Michelle who was sleeping in the master bedroom. Megan was in her daughter's bedroom. How had he known she was in her daughter's bed? "Something's wrong," she muttered. "Your penis is too big."
"You touched it, Michelle. You done seen how big it is." The man's body lowered on top of Megan as what was easily a foot long penis completely filled her. "Now shut the fuck up before that bitch mother of yours hears us"
"Nigel?" asked Megan just before he clamped his hand over her mouth. His voice was deep and his slang sounded so ghetto.
"Don't call me that. Call me Big Nig. You loose yet? You vigins sho is tight."
My god he sounded black? Her husband would freak if he knew his daughter was dating a black guy. Jesus, she even had his penis inside her and she couldn't remember even so much as touching a black person before. She needed to get this punk off her. Megan grabed his hips and pushed back.
"I sees the virgin is ready to get fucked," said Nigel.
Nigel had mistaken her pushes as an attempt to start pumping. He lifted up and started pulling his cock out. Then a funny thing happened. Megan felt empty inside as his cock slowly slid out. A deep sadness filled her and her eyes welled up with tears. The depression was so great her legs squeezed his hips tightly and pulled him back in.
Despite her tight grip, Big Nig started bucking his hips. "I told you once I took your cherry, you wouldn't be able to get enough of this big black cock. This is one sweet pussy, baby. It fits my cock just right. I'm gonna be fucking you a lot from now on. That alright with you?"
"Yes," she whimpered as Big Nig removed his hands from Megan's mouth. She'd answered his question without thinking. His huge cockhead was tingling every nerve in her vagina as it slid in and out. It thrust past her cervix, tapping right at her womb every time he buried it. "No condom," she cried as the thought of Big Nig cumming occured to her. She skipped birth control since her husband was away so much.
"Don't wear them. Besides baby, you can't get pregnant the first time."
Liar, thought Megan. He even seemed to chuckle after saying it. "Pull out when you cum."
"You gonna swallow it if I do?"
"Yes, just pull out." The thought of swallowing semen disgusted her, but it was better then getting knocked up with a black baby. Now came a period when Big Nig's cock began to have such an effect on her, she could no longer talk. They were more like a couple of animals grunting and moaning. Megan gave in to the pleasure and the orgasms started cumming.
The thirtyfive year old mother shuddered beneath her daughter's black boyfriend. Her nails dug into his hard back. Big Nig was grunting harder now and his thrusts were erratic. Megan was on the verge of her biggest orgasm yet. Her legs automatically squeezed him tighter, pulling him all the way inside just as his cock jerked. Megan's orgasm broke as her womb was flooded with sperm. The thing jerked several more times, each one sending a powerful torrent of sperm into womb. "Oh no," she stuttered out still in the throes of orgasm. "Pull out."
Big Nig complied, but not before another jet of seed filled her as he removed it. Another long trail of semen splattered on her belly leading a trail through her pubic hair. Another hit her chin and breasts as he quickly straddled her waist. How much can this guy cum, she thought? Big Nig was still cumming as he positioned his cock between her breasts. "Push them tittties together," he ordered as his cock tapped her chin. Megan was squeezing her breasts together just as his hand grabbed her head and pulled it forward. His cockhead entered her mouth just in time for one last strand of semen to strike the back of her throat and roll around her tongue before she was forced to swallow it.
"Damn, Michelle, them titties feel bigger then they look."
Megan's since of euphoric bliss hadn't slackened off any. Her pussy was still tingling. She was still moaning as Big Nig was twirling her nipples between his fingers. His cock softened and fell out of her mouth, but he continued to thrust it back and forth between her tits.
Big Nig leaned over her. On no, she thought as she heard him fumble with the lamp. She was blinded as the room turned bright. "I gotta see what my black cock looks like on them milky white titties of yours. Hey, your not Michelle." Your her bitch mother."
Megan knew he was black, but wasn't prepared for just how black. Nigel was nearly jet black. The only thing brown on him was the tip of his circumcized cock and it was rising up to strike her chin again. He certainly wasn't a handsome boy, though his muscular young body was incredible. His facial features were borderline cruel, though at the moment he was grinning like this was all a joke to him. "Yes, I'm Megan, Michelle's mother." His cockhead was now thrusting at her mouth again.
"Your daughter know what a slut she has for a mother?"
"I'm not a slut," Megan said before letting his cock slip back into her mouth. She even ran her tongue over the tip and licked around the head. Even licking the tip of Nigel cock felt good to her. She'd never felt so sexually fulfilled with her husband. Plus, with the way he was still toying with her nipples, she was writhing with lust held down by Nigel's body.
"You are one horny white bitch." Big Nig quit straddling her. "Roll over. I want to fuck you again." Nigel took his place behind Megan. Her pussy was still dribbling semen from his last wad as he lined his cock up with her slit. "You this horny with your hubby?"
"No. I've never felt like this." Megan sucked her lower lip into her mouth with anticipation. "I don't know what's gotten into me."
"Black cock," Big Nig pushed his penis back in, "that's what gotten into you. I know hubby don't have this much cock meat to give you."
"Not even half what you have to offer, lover." Megan was already pushing back into his thrusts. Another series of orgasms was starting to build. She'd never cum this much in fifteen years of marriage. Big Nig was fucking her with the entire length of his cock at one fast and relentless pace. The orgasms came. They were small, but not disappointing with an occassional big one. The black man's hands squeezed her ass cheeks as he pounded his hips. One fat thumb slid down her crack to rest on her anus. Megan felt pressure on her ass. "Hey! Watch it. That's my ass."
"I know." Nigel pushed down and her ass opened as his thumb pushed inside.
Megan found it briefly uncomfortable, but her pussy immediatly went crazy. The small orgasms turned big. The big orgasms turned mind blowing. "Oh god, fuck me, fuck me. Stick your thumb in my ass. Oh fuck, this is good."
Big Nig thrust his thumb in and out of her ass in tune to his thrusting cock. One orgasm apparently caused Megan's strength to give out and she collapsed forward. He withdrew both his thumb and cock.
"No," whimpered Megan into the bedspread. "Don't stop. More please. Don't ever stop." Her voice was so soft she wasn't sure Nigel could hear her. "More."
Now that he had loosened her ass up, Nigel brought his cock up to her tight little rosebud. "Damn, I been wanting to fuck me an ass and yours is just as perfect as a white ass can get." None of the teens he had fucked had ever let him near their ass. Even the ones stoned on XTC knew better to let his monster near their ass cherries.
Megan's mouth still silently mouthed, "more," as Nigel brought his cock up to her ass. At first she was pleased, thinking his thumb was returning and soon his cock, but this time, her anus refused to yeild to the pressure. Eventually, her anus pressed inwards and started opening for something a lot larger then a thumb. Up until that point everything had felt good. "Oh my god," she moaned as Big Nig's huge cockhead entered her ass. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her knuckles turned white as they dug into the bedsheets.
"Damn that's tight," grunted Nigel. "Feels good though. Feel good to you, baby?"
"No. Hurts... Too big." Megan's eyes rolled up in the back of her head as the fat head pushed it's way deeper.
"If you want, I can pull it out and go stick it up your daughter's ass?"
"No!" The power of her emotions confused Megan. If she thought she told him no to protect her daughter, she was fooling herself. Her dominant emotion was jealousy. She wanted Big Nig to herself. "No, fuck my ass. Keep your big black cock in my ass, Big Nig." As she spoke, Megan forced herself back up to the kneeling position. It still hurt, but she began pushing her ass back into his cock.
"Now you're talking. You're one hot white mama." Nigel started fucking her ass with more then half his cock. Her anus unclenched a little and she started fucking him back.
What have I become? Megan had gone to bed a loving and faithful wife. Something had awakened her natural sluttiness even before Big Nig had put his cock near her pussy. Now she had swallowed another man's sperm, cheated on her husband, and let a man's cock inside her ass. She had never been more satisifed.
Soon his mammoth balls emptied another load of semen, flooding her ass with his hot sperm. Her ass overflowed with his seed that poured out of her anus as Big Nig took his cock out. He shot several strands of semen across her ass cheeks and her back. Some even struck her hair.
Megan collapsed forwards onto the bed. Nigel rolled over and collapsed beside her. They rested half exausted and half asleep for nearly an hour before Megan opened her eyes. "How old are you again?" Megan grabbed Big Nig's flaccid cock as she asked the question.
"You're not fucking my daughter." Megan was delighted to see his cock was already responding to her touch.
"I'm gonna fuck her," he said matter-of-factly. "I might wait till she's eighteen, but I'm gonna need a little somethin somethin on the side until then."
"I'll be in this room every night for a week." Megan slid down the bed and kissed his cockhead. Before taking him back inside her mouth she said, "after that I think we can work something out."
Monday, September 13, 2010
My Step Brother [part 1 of 2]
By: Horny4u (email@example.com)
Erin and her step brother John had been sharing the attick room as long as she could remember. And with nothing but a curtain hung from the ceiling to block them off from each other some uneasy thoughts came into Erin mind. Has he ever touched me while I was asleep? Does he go through my underwear? Does he watch me change? Would I mind if he did?
She thought all of these things as she was lying in bed trying to go to sleep. Just as she thought she might get to sleep, John came in. He had just gotten home from soccer practice and was undressing for his shower, he turned at the perfect angle where she could see his cock. And what a marvelous cock it was, a full 8 inches long when hard, she'd seen him jacking off one time last year, and couldn't get it out of her mind. But now seeing his cock just sitting there lazily she couldn't help but feel her nipples getting erect and feeling her purple thong getting a little damp.
She waited til he got in to the bathroom before she slid her hand into her panties and started massaging her clit with her fingers while her other hand massaged her sensitive nipples. Erin had always been wanted by the guys in her grade, she played volleyball, had a great ass, apple sized tits, and unbeknowst to the guys an amazing tasting pussy. Attendance to volleyball games had more then doubled when she made the team and the guys figured out that volleyball players usually went commando, and had to wear spandex shorts during the games.
After a few minutes of pleasing herself though she drifted off to sleep. She dreampt, She was in the ocean, but she was naked and all these crabs were pinching at her, and it felt really bad but good at the same time, she wondered if that's what a relationship with John would feel like, the dream faded away.
At breakfast the next morning she didn't say a word, she just ate, and then drove herself to school, not even asking if John had needed a ride. Her day went pretty normally, until she got home from her volleyball game. She walked up to her room and noticed that there was pair of boxers on John's bed, half hidden under the covers. She went over to check them out, and discover that he must have just left them there after jacking off.
She felt that it was wrong but didn't care. She bent over and touched the sweet juices, they were still warm. She hesitated but then she pulled her finger up to her mouth and licked the cum from her finger. It was her first taste of cum but she thought she like it. So she picked up the boxers and started lapping the cum off of them. She got almost all of it off before she realized her brother would notice it wasn't there.
So she decided she replace it with her own. She stripped off her uniform, tank top jersey first, then the sports bra, and finally her spandes shorts. She squeezed her tits some just to get herself going, then she moved her fingers down to her clit and started massaging, she slid her long cold fingers up and down her sex until she had to cum, then she pulled the boxers up to the front of her sex, and she came all over them, they looked just like they had earlier.
She went into the bathroom, took her shower, and then went to sleep, without even putting on her pajamas.
Part Two on its way.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
By: Selene (firstname.lastname@example.org)
First let me start this story by introducing myself. My name is Anna. I am 22 years old, 5'9, long blonde hair, and silver eyes. I wear glasses and I'm not really the most stylish person in the world. I live in Austin, Texas and I am a junior psychology major in college.
Unfortunately, I live in the co-ed dorms and my male roommate is the epitome of the "college frat boy". His name is Scott. He is 6'2, dark chocolate brown hair, green eyes, and, lets face it, a really cut body. Fairly often, he'll come back to the room at 3am with some nameless girl on his arm and well... I think that you can figure out what goes on and what I have to go through. And the worst part of it is...I can't help but wish that I could be one of those girls that he brings home all of the time. And it drives me crazy. Plus that I know that I don't really have a chance with him (believe me, I am NO sorority girl)!
Anyway, the other night, I was staying up studying for this hellish final that I had the next day and here came Scott waltzing through the door, but this time, he was alone. And I hate to say it, but that kind of shocked me. Usually, he always had someone with him, whether it was some model/stripper or one of his buddies. But no, this time, he was alone and he looked totally wiped out. He just came over to where I was sitting on the couch and plopped down next to me. His hair was messed up and he looked exhausted and extremely sexy in that "Just rolled out of bed after a steamy night" kind of way.
He just laid there for about five minutes, and I thought that he had fallen asleep. So naturally, I got up, put my books on the side table, and got a blanket to cover him up. But when I was leaning over him, his eyes shot open and we just looked at each other. One, two, three seconds. Then, he ran his hand along my cheek and slowly raised his head to kiss me. I was in total shock and couldn't even react. Not that I would have honestly been able to or wanted to stop him.
When his lips touched mine, my heartbeat sped up and the whole world seemed to slow down. I couldn't understand why such a simple kiss could have such an effect. Especially when the tip of his tongue gently touched my bottom lip. The only problem was that I could taste the alcohol on his lips and that seemed to jolt me back to reality. I pulled away quickly and ran to my room. I jumped into my bed without bothering to change into my nightclothes. I stayed awake for a long time feeling confused and riled. Why could his kiss do that to me? I just didn't get. I finally fell asleep, still able to feel that kiss as if it were occurring at that moment.
And, of course, my dreams were filled with him. Marvelous and wicked dreams of his hands making me quiver with uncontrollable ecstasy. I woke up the next morning still exhausted and my head filled with all sorts of sinful thoughts.
I walked out to the living room area and Scott was sitting there...awake and waiting. He asked me to sit down and he apologized for the kiss. He continued to ramble on about how he was drunk and had had a hard night but I simply tuned him out. It hurt, for some unknown reason, that he was remorseful about the kiss, especially considering that it had been so...so...memorable for me. I nodded politely when he said that it would never happened again and told him that I had to go to class. I couldn't even concentrate in any of my classes for thinking of him and that kiss. I'm sure that I did ok on my exam but my mind just couldn't stay focused. I had no idea why such a drunken gesture had this effect on me considering that I barely liked the man.
I returned to my dorm room at around 5pm and decided to lay down on the couch and take a quick nap before I had to go to work (I work at a restaurant near the college). I curled up on the couch and turned on some nameless movie and began to drift off.
In the distance, I heard someone call my name. I blamed it only on my imagination but then I heard it again. I suddenly awoke when I realized that it was Scott and he was very close. When I opened my heavy-lidded eyes, I saw his beautiful face mere inches from mine. He spoke my name again and I took a moment to think about how sexy it sounded coming from his mouth.
I quickly came to senses and began to wonder what I was thinking. He was not even close to the type of guy that I wanted! I didn't want some frat boy who loved to party and "hang out with the guys"! I wanted the sweet, smart guy who wanted to stay in and cuddle and watch movies! Scott was the farthest thing from my idea of the guy I sought to be with. So, why was I reacting to him this way? What was wrong with me?
It took me a moment but I finally realized why he had woken me up. IT WAS 8:45PM! I WAS LATE FOR WORK! I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE AT 7!!
I couldn't believe it. And when I called, my boss told me to "Not even bother coming in"! This day just could not get any worse! Oh wait...the one guy that had kept me distracted all day was now sitting disturbingly close to me!
Scott leaned in close to me and said, "I'm sorry that you're going to miss work. I came in and woke you up as soon as I realized that you were still here." O great! Now he was being sweet! "Are you gonna be ok?" he said. "Yea, thanks, I'll be fine." I replied. I hastily got off of the couch and went into my room to get ready to take a shower. I took my clothes off quickly and wrapped a towel around my body when my door burst open. Scott was standing there, staring at me. I was frozen!
We just sat there staring at each other for four...five...six moments when he swiftly moved over to me and kissed me. Not like the kiss the night before, but one much more deliberate and passionate. I rubbed my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled my body tightly against his and deepened the kiss. I felt his tongue rub softly against my lower lip as I opened my mouth to accept the kiss. His hand moved down the side of my body to my hip as I wrapped my right leg around him.
I'm not sure what came over me but I rubbed my hand down his chest and gently pressed up against the prominent bulge that was pressing against my stomach. A soft, deep moan escaped from his mouth and his hand gripped my hip tightly and he began to sensually move up against me. I moved my hand to his back and began to pull his t-shirt up over this head. We had to break the kiss for a moment but as soon as the shirt was out of the way, we resumed. The passion reached a boiling point when I felt the towel slip away from my body and his hand gently massage my lower back.
Just then, the phone rang and we were both jolted out of the moment. I was the first to react as I immediately swiped up my towel and ran to answer the phone. It was my friend, Julia, and she was wondering if I wanted to go to a movie with her since I wasn't at work. I told her to pick me up in 10 minutes. As I hung up the phone, I was almost terrified to walk back into my bedroom but I knew that I was being foolish. That was my room and I needed to get dressed (there was no way that I could go to the movies in a towel).
As I walked back into my room, I saw Scott sitting on the edge of my bed in nothing but his jeans with his hands on his knees. When he looked at me, I immediately felt naked again. I pulled the towel tighter against me and tried not to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry", I said, "I didn't mean to get so carried away. I don't know what came over me." He got up and came over to me and tried to put his arms around me and kiss me again but I darted around him and asked him politely to leave my room so that I could get dressed. He silently did as I asked and it was then that I realized that his shirt was still lying across the edge of the bed where I had thrown it. I couldn't help the impulse to pick it up and hold it to my chest. To smell the delicious smell of him on it. I was immediately embarrassed by my pettiness and practically threw the shirt back down onto the bed. I hastingly threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and some flip-flops and put my hair into a ponytail. I practically ran out of the dorm, purposefully not making eye contact with Scott as I left. It was almost 2am when I returned to the dorm. After the movie, I had made Julie come with me to one of the bars around the area and get completely zonked with me. Luckily, a couple of her friends were at the bar dancing and were sober enough to drive us back to the dorm.
I was trying to sneak back into when I realized that Scott was asleep on the couch. He looked so attractive with his hair appealingly mused and he wearing nothing but his jean shorts. I had the sudden urge to lie next to him and I'm sure that if it weren't for the alcohol, I would've ignored such an urge. But I was practically plastered so I took off almost all of my clothes (except for my bra and panties) and snuggled up next to his warm body. He felt so good and strong and safe. I let those feelings take over me as I drifted into the deepest sleep that I had had in a long time.
I woke up to a feeling of pure heat and that of a large, rough hand rubbing up and down my spine. The sensation was sublime and I couldn't have moved away from it if I had tried. I experienced such a warmth and safety that I felt as though I could never move away from it. Then I heard the deep, rumbling of the sexiest voice that I had ever heard saying to me, "Good morning, darlin'." I looked up into those incredible green eyes and became entranced in them.
Lost in the moment, I lifted my mouth to his and received the most amazing feeling while I kissed him softly. I felt him pull me on top of him and his hands gently squeeze my waist. The kiss gradually deepened as I began to move against him. I felt all of my inhibitions slip away as he began to remove my bra. I felt the exquisiteness of the straps sliding down my arms as his hands came to rest on my breasts. I freely moaned into his mouth and let him know my pleasure.
I felt this sudden urge take over me as I began to kiss his neck and slowly work my way down his body. Stopping to lick his chest and leave soft kisses on his abs, I came to the rim of his shorts. I teasingly ran my tongue along the inside of the rim and lingeringly kissed the curve of his hip- bone. I slowly unbuttoned his shorts and pushed both them and his black boxer-briefs down. I was impressed by his size and further encouraged. I lightly ran the tip of my tongue around the base of him and slowly worked my way up to the top. I heard a groan escape his throat. I slowly began to work my tongue around the head of him and began to lightly suck.
After a few moments, I felt him grab my shoulders and tell me to stop. He pulled me up to his mouth and gave me a deep kiss. He reached down to my hips and pushed my panties down. "I want to be inside of you", I heard him whisper. Once my panties were off, the rest became sort of a blur of ecstasy. He positioned me on top of him and slowly lowered me down. I felt him enter me and a huge shudder run through my body. I moaned loudly as he pulled me down to kiss him. I slowly began to rock my hips. I felt his hands rub up and down my arms and move to my breasts. The sensation of it all was driving me crazy! I began to move faster and faster and our moans grew to a thunderous volume. It was soon when I felt such a shudder rocket through my body. I groaned loudly as I felt my body begin to convulse and I saw white spots behind my eyelids. Every cell in my body was focused on him pounding in and out of me. The jolting climax came fast and hard. I fell over onto him utterly exhausted. I could hear his heart beating quickly against my ear.
Afterwards, I simply basked in the afterglow of our lovemaking. It had to do was separate myself from him. I could almost feel myself slowly being drawn into this man in a way that I had never been drawn to anybody. I couldn't understand it and at that time, I didn't want to. I just wanted to enjoy this for as long as I could.
As the time slowly drifted by, I began to regain my energy and I finally lifted myself into a sitting position and looked at the clock. It was already almost 1 o'clock in the afternoon! I could never have guessed that we and I had been laying here for that long.
I felt Scott moving behind me and realized that he was waking up. Time to move into the "real world"...
Babysitter and her Boyfriend
By: Captivate (email@example.com)
Fran didn't know when it started. They met the first year of college and had seemed perfect for each other, sharing everything. They could talk for hours about their childhoods, schooling, early jobs, early relationships. They actually listened to each other, noting carefully all the details that made up their existence. She felt so close to him, so totally one.
Now, they had been together for several years. The time had passed quickly for Fran and she was always surprised when she stopped to count and found the years mounting. She loved Chris so much, even more than before. But things had changed somehow. They still shared their days and thoughts, but now Fran was aware of a vacancy in his eyes, a perfunctory nod of his head. He didn't seem to listen anymore, not really.
Fran worried about it, as she worried about everything. They seemed to be growing apart, losing the special connection that made them different. Several times, she tried to bring it up with Chris, hesitantly mentioning her concerns. He would laugh it off, hold her for a moment, then release her into the arms of fear once again. She wasn't sure what to do to bring back the magic.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She packed her things and left a note for Chris, trying once again to explain her thoughts.
Dear Chris, I love you with all my heart. You mean everything to me. I just feel that I am not as important to you as I once was. I feel you are pulling away from me, losing interest in me. I guess I need to know that what I say is important, that what I want is important. I will be at my sister's house, trying to straighten out my mind. I love you. Fran
Chris was finally shaken. He took stock of his life and realized that Fran was important to him. Actually, more than important, she was critical to his happiness. He sat home the first night in shock and denial. He didn't really think she would stay away, that she could stay away. But she didn't return the next day, or the day after that. Each morning, he left for work, sure she would return to him that day. And each night, he came home to an empty, cold house. It amazed him to realize he could sense the lack of her warmth, her very scent, in all the rooms. He could hear slight remnants of her voice, her thoughts floating in the air. At night, he felt her in the bed, turning or shifting the covers.
Chris tried to call her, but she didn't want to talk to him yet. She was trying so hard to figure out what to do with her life, the sad life without Chris in it.
Chris did the next best thing. He called Fran's sister, Laurie. Laurie heard the misery in Chris' voice and, having watched Fran's unhappiness, wanted to help any way she could. They talked, planned and discussed. Finally they hit upon a perfect plan. Chris remembered something Fran had told him years ago, and thought perhaps this was the way to win her back.
That Friday, Laurie and her husband were going out with friends. They invited Fran, but were not at all surprised when she declined. She hadn't gotten dressed for days, preferring her soft, baggy sweats and slippers. They left her curled up on the couch, the fire blazing, a thick quilt wrapped around her and her misery, watching an old movie on TV. As much as they hated leaving her alone, it was part of the plan, so they giggled as they went out to the car.
The movie was a very old one. The main characters hated each other on sight, an event that always promised true love before the final credits. Fran had a huge bowl of buttery popcorn and a big glass of pink lemonade, her favorite movie snack. She sat mesmerized by the unfolding love story, sighing as she thought of Chris and her own failed romance.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped. She wasn't expecting anyone. Nervously, she moved to the door and peeked out. It was Chris, grinning and looking right at her. Hesitantly, she opened the door a crack and asked him what he needed.
Chris looked around and leaned closed to whisper, "Hello, pretty girl. I know you are babysitting and not allowed company, but I had to see you. I even brought your favorite ice cream." Chris held up a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream and tried to look winning.
All of Fran's teen fantasies came flooding back. "The Babysitter and her Boyfriend". How many nights had she babysat with neighborhood kids and wished she had a boyfriend who would come by and bring her ice cream and then make out with her on the couch while the children slept? She and her other dateless friends had discussed it at length, deciding who would be allowed to come into the house, what he would have to bring as a bribe, and how far they would let him go in the making out.
Of course, it never happened. But it was a fantasy that she still remembered clearly, one she had shared with Chris when they first met. Suddenly, it occured to Fran that Chris remembered! Right down to the flavor of ice cream she was most likely to succumb to!
Her mind battled with her heart. God, she wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and invite him in! But her mind wondered if this was just a passing thing, if Chris would return to his less-than-interested self once she was safely ensconced in their apartment. Then she looked into Chris's unique silver eyes, and her heart won.
She opened the door, whispering that the kids were asleep and he would need to be very quiet. She admonished him that he could share a bowl of ice cream and then he would have to leave.
Chris agreed to everything. He entered quietly, leaving his shoes at the door, sliding silently by her, filling her head with his own special scent. She stood there, inhaling him, remembering every moment of their lives together.
She moved to the kitchen to get bowls and spoons. Chris came up behind her and encircled her with his arms, pulling her close. He nibbled on her neck, kissing up and down the length of it, lingering at the extremely sensitive nape that Fran had always said was her weakness. She had to make a decision, she had to know right now what to do. It meant a lot that Chris had remembered her babysitter fantasy and had obviously planned with Laurie to surprise her. His lips were moving up and down her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched. In an instant, Fran made her decision. She entered wholeheartedly into the fantasy.
"Ooooh, Chris, you shouldn't be doing that! I am responsible for these kids! The parents trust me! They would be very upset if they knew I had let some guy into the house, not to mention if I were necking with him. Besides....." Her point was lost as Chris slipped his hand over her breast, cupping it securely, his thumb massaging the hardening nipple.
"Besides...." Chris whispered against her neck, waiting for the rest of the sentence. But all he could hear was Fran's rapid breathing as she leaned back against him, surrendering. He moved his hand then, hearing her sigh with disappointment. Slowly, he turned her to him, keeping his hands on her upper arms as he pulled her close and leaned down for a kiss. He had missed her so much, missed having her in his life AND his bed. Being this close to her, touching her again, reminded him of all the good things she had brought into his life.
He closed his eyes and softly pressed his lips to hers. Gently rubbing back and forth, he just enjoyed the contact, knowing there was lots of time. He felt her lips opening beneath his, and took the invitation, slipping the tip of his tongue into her hot mouth, thrusting lightly. She happily sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeper into her, teasing it with her own. They played lovers' games; touching, evading, swirling, sucking. They stood together, hips dancing, hands clutching, as only their tongues moved happily.
Fran traced his lips slowly, lingering at the corners, delving there, making him moan. His hands still gripped her arms, but she could feel his erection pressing into her tummy. She slid her own hands under his shirt, finding the smooth skin of his back, and re-learning. Her palms were warm, actually hot, as she traced the planes and valleys of his body. Her breasts pressed against him, her nipples hard and aching. She arched her back, attempting to get even closer. Still, Chris kissed her. She whimsically thought that he was kissing her senseless, which he was. She was losing all sense of reality, totally losing herself in the story of the love-crazed girl being visited by her crush.
Calmly, Chris kissed her softly on her nose and turned to the ice cream, opening it and spooning some out....one bowl, one spoon only. He took her hand and walked her to the living room, with the comfy couch all warmed by the fire. He settled her there, moving about the room, dimming lights. Then he snuggled next to her, pulling the quilt over both of them and holding her close. He fed her ice cream as he seemed to lose himself in the movie. Fran didn't really care, as long as he was this close.
For the next two hours, they cuddled and watched, with Chris reaching to her for a long, lingering, occasional kiss. It kept Fran on the edge. She never knew when he would decide to hold her, kiss her. She loved that. It was much better than a constant barrage of hands and lips. It was extremely exciting. She surrendered to him each time, sinking into the pleasure of his touch and taste.
When the movie ended, Chris took the remote and turned off the TV. The room grew even darker, lit only by the flickering fire. He began to kiss her in earnest now, his lips making love to hers, his hands moving slowly up and down her arms, caressing her neck, sliding into her hair and playing with it.
As part of the game, Fran should have protested, at least a little. So she did. She whispered that the kids might come in, that the parents might come home, that they shouldn't be doing this; but it had no effect on Chris. He would stop for a moment, agreeing with her, promising to be good, then he would be drawn back to her full lips and sweet neck.
They sat entwined, with Fran half on his lap, arms wrapped around each other. Kissing was one of Fran's favorite activities and Chris was willing to let her get her fill. They were lost in each other, eyes closed, hands searching, mouths open and seeking.
Somehow, they were horizontal on the big couch. The quilt had fallen to the floor; there was plenty of warmth without it. Chris was lying on Fran, his weight comforting after all the weeks without him. She kept her fingers on his skin, touching him anywhere she could find flesh, remembering everything. Still, he continued to kiss her, in all the ways that she loved. Soft, light, tickling, deep, involved, probing. Every kiss seemed different from the last. Her body arched up to his, knowing what it wanted, driven to get what it craved.
Clothes started falling, disappearing with the quilt. Lying under Chris, naked and needy, Fran knew that this is where she always wanted to be, that Chris was the man who made her happy and complete. She closed her eyes and just reveled in his warmth. Now it was Fran rushing headlong to completion. She wanted everything and she wanted it now. She wriggled under him, her body trying to capture his. But Chris wasn't ready to stop his wooing, his seduction.
He began kissing down her neck, his mouth leaving a trail of heat on her excited flesh. When his lips found one of her distended nipples, she cried out. He teased and nipped at her nubbin, barely connecting with it, but sending shards of electricity to her center. He brushed his mouth lightly against the bumply surface, his tongue began darting out and wetting and circling. Everything he did was designed to keep her on edge, needy and aching.
Finally....finally, his mouth closed on her nipple and pulled it deeply into his heat. It was like coming home. Her back arched to feed him more of the distended flesh. She opened her eyes to see, by the flickering fire, his face pressed to her breast, his mouth busily pleasing her. Fran could feel his engorged cock resting against her, hot and hard. She needed it inside her again. She was sure he was going to make love to her, let her feel his cock deep inside her. Her mind was whirling with thoughts of loving Chris and what it meant to her. Her mind was whirling, then her mind went blank, her head filled by the rushing sound that drove everything from it.
Fran felt herself stiffening, felt her body preparing to explode. Her last sane thought was that he was just sucking on a nipple, nothing else. But the roar continued and built, the white heat filled her body and she lost all in the haze of complete surrender. She felt the orgasm start deep within her pink, felt the heat as it spread through her body. She began trembling and throbbing beneath him, her body finding completion. Chris continued suckling, taking her beyond the edge of passion. She clutched him, screamed his name, begged for something, not sure what.
Finally, the red mist cleared and she looked down to see Chris gently licking her erect nipple. Her entire body was hot and pulsing. Still, he continued to gently love her. He moved to the other nipple, the poor ignored left nipple, and began again, kissing and sucking and pulling, making the sensations flood her body. Now his fingers moved along her curves, skimming the aroused flesh, paths of fire everywhere he touched. She squirmed beneath him, her eyes closed, but seeing clearly his hands as they caressed her.
She didn't even realize the orgasm was building again until it was nearly upon her. Spasm after spasm tore through her fevered body as she cried out, her fingers clutching him, her nails scraping his flesh. She trembled with completion, exhausted and content.
Only then did Chris stop. He gently licked her chest, moving up to her neck and throat. His lips gently grazed her chin, and settled on her mouth, pulling her tongue into him. His body was cradled by hers, his hands holding her arms above her head. He stopped kissing and looked into her eyes.
"I love you, Fran. My life is empty without you. I realize that now. I will never take you for granted again. I need you in my life, in my days and nights. You have always been in my mind and heart. Please, come home, Fran. Please, come back to me. I need you so much!" His voice broke at the end, filling Fran with love and happiness.
"Yes, my darling. I will come home. I want to be home with you. I love you so very much!" she said, as she kissed his chin. "But, please, before we go, make love to me. I need to feel you inside me. It has been so long!"
Gazing into her eyes, Chris nodded. His legs were straddling hers, his erect cock was pressed against her, reminding her of his unfulfilled needs. He lifted his hips, and slid his cock between her legs, the head just entering her swollen, wet lips. She loved this, the tightness and depth. She shifted beneath him, encouraging his entrance. Slowly, so slowly, he moved deeper into her, his cockhead satiny smooth against her hot pinkness. His eyes bore into hers, catching her, making her stop breathing as the intensity of his feelings flooded her. Deeper and deeper he slid, moving so carefully, making a path for himself. She loved the feeling of being locked between his strong thighs, the feeling of him entering her extremely tight pussy. She couldn't move now, his legs were clamped over hers, rendering her immobile. His hands held hers above her head, his mouth was inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her face, nearly hear his heart pounding as he continued to slide into her ready pinkness.
Finally, she felt him give a final push, felt his pelvis grinding on hers. She knew that their curlies were inextricably meshed, their bodies totally bound together. Chris stayed very still, yet his cock throbbed within her, making her ache for more. Fran looked into his eyes, saw the passion glazing his vision, not even sure he could even really see her anymore. His breathing was shallow, rapid; his grip on her wrists was unforgiving.
Fran thrust up against him, impaling herself on his erection. She cried out as he reached new depths within her. He was still for another minute, a minute during which she begged him to fuck her, use her, make her sore and still the ache within her.
Chris looked down at her, almost surprised to see her face so near. He bent down, taking her lips in a sweet, encompassing kiss, his tongue lazily moving over her, teasing and titillating. Finally, his hips began the dance she wanted, the in and out, up and down movements that would take both of them to completion. His chest rubbed against her erect nipples, chafing and arousing simultaneously.
Fran was losing touch with reality. She could only feel Chris above her, moving inside her, his body hard on hers, his hands gripping her wrists bruisingly. She just wanted him, more than she had ever wanted him. She didn't hear the little moans and whispers escaping her mouth, she didn't know her body was moving in rhythm with his. She only knew that she needed to come, she needed to explode and she wanted to take Chris with her.
He paused again, looking down at her, sweat glistening on his cheeks as he stilled his movements. He looked into her eyes, trapping her soul with his gaze. "I love you, Fran. I love you and need you in my life, every aspect, every day, every minute. Will you marry me?"
Fran couldn't answer. She had dreamed of this a million times, the scene changing with each dream. But this, this scenario, with Chris over her, inside her, was one she had never imagined. He moved slowly, in and out, deeply and smoothly, while he patiently waited for her answer. Her mind raced, and then she imagined years from now, when someone asked how Chris 'popped the question' and what her answer would be.......Suddenly, she felt the familiar stirrings of impending orgasm, her legs straightening even more, her body tightening, the heat rushing up from her very center. She looked up at Chris' expectant face. Yes, god yes, she wanted to marry him. She tried to form the word, tried to remember the question, as the orgasm overtook her and shook her soul.
Chris kissed her, deeply and slowly, holding her body to his as the throbbing ebbed. She looked into his dear eyes, saw the love there, and knew what the answer had to be.
As she whispered "yes", she felt his cock begin to swell. He moved one more time, finding depths she never experienced before. His hot come filled her as his mouth ravaged hers. Finally, he released her hands and she was able to caress his back, hold him against her.
They spent the rest of the evening making plans and giggling, as Fran packed to return home.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
A night at the derby.
By: Billy Jack
Bob couldn't believe his luck. While he was signing in for his entry to the demolition derby a gorgeous woman that planned to run the small car division drew up a conversation with him, and she seemed like she wanted to talk after they finished the sign up.
Bob always raced the big cars. The way he saw it the big cars represent power. Sure the compact cars were fun to run, and he usually ran two or three a year depending where he would run, but it was the big cars that took his love of the sport.
Bob drew the number four, so that meant he would be in the fourth heat, and since Marian was in the compact division she would run between the fifth heat and the final run.
The big car division had from four to six heats, depending on how many cars showed up for the demolition derby, while there was only one compact car heat.
The last three cars left running in each of the big car heats would move to the final heat, and the winner of that heat would win twenty five hundred dollars.
The compact car division only paid two hundred, and it was basically just enough to buy the next small car to get ready for the next race.
Marian drove car number seven seventy seven in a small Chevy Cavalier, and Bob drove number one thirty three in a big Lincoln. He hadn't won a single heat this year and he was getting a little concerned. He normally won at least two heats a year, and since this season was almost over he had to win this race and the next one to keep his record going.
When Marian saw Bob working on the finishing touches on his car she moved over to talk to him. This was her third race this year and she always came in second or third, but never first. She was hoping Bob had some pointers to help her and give her an edge, so she moved up and offered to help his get his car ready while they talked.
Bob was surprised she was so knowledgeable with auto mechanics, and in fact she probably knew more than he himself did, he just barely knew enough to survive.
His car was ready and all he was doing was a final inspection to make sure it was a good as it could be. Then he had to check to make certain the hood and trunk was bolted down securely, then he moved to make sure the battery was bolted down and secured on the passenger floorboard.
He used a chain to secure the doors instead of welding. With chains he could always take them off after the race and reuse them on his next car.
Often a compact car was not torn up too bad and could be used in several different races, but rarely was a big car salvageable after the first run.
When Bob moved over to the lawn chair he brought him, Marian looked around and couldn't find one for her to sit in so she decided bold action was called for, so she moved over and sat on his lap.
He didn't have much luck with women because of his shyness, and to have such a gorgeous woman move so fast with him scared him.
Marian had long blonde hair, and almost perfectly tanned complexion, and a body he thought could have been as a bathing suit model. Her tits were a good C-cup and her ass was nice and round, and firm. She had a voice of an angel and the bravery of a marine. Not many drove in the demolition derbies, most preferred to watch in the safety of the bleachers.
Once Bob started to feel comfortable with her on his lap he loosened up and started to enjoy her. It didn't take long before they were like old friends as they laughed and talked about other races they'd both been in.
Marian told Bob that she would place higher in her race than he would in his, and all he could do was laugh with a sarcastic tone.
Finally she looked him in the eyes and asked him if he wanted to bet.
This sounded like the kind of challenge he liked, so he asked her what the wager would be.
She leaned back against his chest and told him the loser would have to do anything the winner decided.
Bob saw in her eyes she was being flirty, but he'd been around a lot of women who were prick teaser, so he asked her in reference to what.
She told him anything. The loser had to do what ever the winner chose.
Bob laughed at her and told her she better be prepared to be his slave for the night.
She laughed and pushed her finger against the center of his chest and quickly corrected him, she told him that he would have to be her sex slave until sun up.
Bob didn't take her serious, but the thought of lying next to the naked Marian turned him on, and it didn't take long before she could feel his cock harden under her ass.
When she felt his stiffness she giggled her ass and told him to relax, he would need to save that for after he lost.
When they announced over the intercom that the drivers for the forth heat needed to get ready to head to the track, Marian stood up and leaned in and kissed him on the mouth and wished him luck. She rode with him to the field as he moved to get in line.
Bob was squared up against a big Pontiac station wagon, and when he looked back and saw his opponent he swallowed hard. Station wagons were hard to take out, and he hated being pitted up against them.
He especially hated the first hit of the race. The impact nearly knocked his dick in the dirt each time, and with the station wagon sided up to go against him he knew he would be sore in the morning.
When the count down hit one Bob looked over his shoulder and pushed the pedal to the medal as his car darted back on the mud track. Just before impact he turned back around and faced the dash. He was afraid of breaking his neck if he kept his head turned, so he made it a point to always face forward on impact.
The first car out was the wagon he went up against. But it wasn't Bob who took him out, but it was another station wagon that took him from any victory of the night.
The race lasted nearly nineteen minutes, and occasionally he could hear Marian shout at him in encouragement.
He was one of the last five running, and the competition started to get fierce. Every time he turned around another car was headed for his front end. The four remaining cars were teamed up, and their plans were to take Bob out before they went against each other.
With four against one Bob didn't stand a chance, and he only lasted three minutes. His racing was over for the night.
The small car division had thirteen compacts on the track and Bob watched carefully as the count down began. He hoped that Marian would win, even if it did cost him the bet, but she deserved a win. She worked hard to perfect her car, and she took every safety precaution to protect herself.
Twenty two minutes later Marian accepted the first place trophy and was told where to pick up her winning check.
While the big cars were setting up for the final heat Bob helped Marian load her car on her trailer, then afterwards she helped him with his.
Bob wanted to ask her for her phone number before she left, he really wanted to get to know her better, maybe ask her out.
When he leaned in to kiss her good bye she grabbed him by the upper arm and told him he wasn't going anywhere, she won the bet and she fully intended to get paid off, and tonight.
They talked for several minutes before they decided to go to Bob's house to pay off the bet. She lived in an apartment and there weren't enough parking spaces, especially for two trucks pulling two trailers loaded with wrecked cars. Bob had a house just outside of town, and he had his own shop where he worked on his cars, so he had plenty of parking room.
While Marian looked at the different trophies he'd taken over the past ten years Bob made them both drinks.
Bob told her to relax for a bit, he needed to jump in the shower, so she sat the drink down on the coffee table and stood up to join him.
He thought she was joking, so he moved to the shower to see how far she would take it before he high tailed it back to the living room.
When he was down to his boxers he knew she didn't plan to go anywhere, so he bent slightly and slid them down his hips to let them fall to the floor.
After he was naked she stepped back and looked him up and down, and then she stepped back and started to strip as well.
Bob stepped in the shower to get the water set up, and he never gave her a second thought. He knew she was fucking with his mind. There was no way she would shower with him. He just didn't have that kind of luck.
When he felt her slip up behind him and slid her hands around him he nearly fell over. When he turned around he could see she was serious.
She was as naked as he was and she had a lust in her eyes like he'd never seen before.
She looked him in the eyes and told him to remember the bet, he lost and he would be her sex slave until the sun came up.
Bob smiled as he pulled her into his arms smashed her firm tits up against his chest, he planned to enjoy the night, and when he was done, he would have her way past sun up.
When she felt his hard cock push against her pelvic area she slid her hand down his body and took his cock in her hand and gently squeezed.
She could hear Bob's moans as she slowly slid her hand up and down on him, and she knew he wasn't used to such an aggressive woman, and that he would cum too fast.
But if he was like other men, it wouldn't take much for her to get him back up again, and the next time he would last much longer.
After they stepped from the shower they didn't bother to towel off or get dressed, they moved quickly to the bed where Marian fell on her back and pulled him down on top of her.
Bob felt like he had just won the lottery. He had a gorgeous woman in his bed that wanted him desperately, and he would have her until morning. And to think she thought of herself as the winner. Bob knew who the real winner was, and it certainly wasn't her.
Her lips tasted sweet, almost like a long ago drink of wine, and she knew how to put in the tongue action that quickly made his cock hard again.
Bob didn't want to just climb on and fuck her, he wanted to take his time and make the night last, so he moved back and looked her body over as he rubbed her stomach. She knew she had a great body, and she felt proud when she saw the happy expression on her lovers face.
Bob kissed down her neckline until he had his mouth pressed against her tit, and while he pulled a nipple in his mouth, he used his hand to gently tweak her other nipple.
Marian wasn't used to such tender love making. Since she was so aggressive, most men thought she loved rough sex, and sometimes she did, but with Bob she wanted the tenderness.
Bob kissed his way down her stomach, past her navel until he came to her pussy mound, then he leaned in and gently kissed it while he slid his tongue up against her clit.
His neck hurt in that position so he moved down towards her feet and resituated himself where he could move between her spread legs.
When she felt him pull her clit into his mouth her purrs quickly turned to loud moans. She loved oral sex, giving as much as receiving, and to find a man who was good at it was a rarity, and Bob was definitely talented with his tongue work.
When Bob saw how turned on she got when he licked her clit he put more pressure with his tongue while he moved his right hand up her thigh until he had two fingers up inside her.
Marian tossed her head back and sighed when she felt the first small orgasm. She'd only squirted a half dozen times in her life, and if he kept up with what he was doing, she definitely would be able to add another number to that figure.
She didn't know what he intended to do when he slid his hands under her ass. She didn't know if he planned to finger fuck her asshole, or if he planned to fuck her up the ass, so when he kissed his way down her crack she nearly lost it.
She'd never had a man use his tongue on her ass before, and she loved it when he did. She couldn't get enough. She pulled hard on his head as she moved so much faster towards the biggest orgasm of her life.
When she stiffened up Bob knew what would happen next, so he pulled himself in tighter and held on until he felt her loosen up, then he held his breath.
When she shot out at him she tried to push him away. His tongue was driving her crazy and she needed him to back off, but he wouldn't. She as glad he didn't, she hated it, but she loved it, so what could she do.
When she finally shot out her last stream of cum she started to sob loudly.
Bob thought he'd hurt her, and he moved up to apologized, but when she told him why she was crying he could only stick his chest out in pride.
Marian knew there was no way she could satisfy him as well as he did her, but she sure planned to try.
Once she regained enough strength she rose up and moved down and straddled his hips. Then she reached down and took his cock and pulled it up towards her pussy while she slowly lowered herself down on him.
When Bob felt the tightness of her pussy he knew he wouldn't last long, and he didn't.
He knew with her talents she would get him hard over and over again, and by morning they would both be sore, but neither one wanted to back off.
They could deal with the soreness later, but tonight they would have complete satisfaction, and they'd enjoy each others body.
When Marian finally closed her eyes and found sleep Bob couldn't take his eyes off of her face. She was definitely hot, and he hoped she would want to see him again. Maybe they could work on their car at his shop together. He could see a future with her, and when she woke they would go to dinner and talk, he wanted to see her again, and from the way she kissed him, he assumed she would want to see him again as well.
Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep spooned up against her.
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Trouble With Emily, Part 4 [part 4 of 4]
By: Miltone (firstname.lastname@example.org)
The Trouble With Emily
Emily's birthday came along a few weeks later. On the night before while everyone else was asleep, Mitchell stayed up late to decorate the house with a banner and balloons. Knowing that Emily was the first one up in the morning, he propped up a couple of very conspicuous presents and a card for her to discover.
Before dashing off to work and school, Mitchell and the kids wished and sang her a happy birthday, and Emily showed off her patented glowing happy smile and there were even a few happy tears. She opened her presents eagerly in front of the kids, a beautiful white satin robe and slippers that Kelly had picked out for her, a couple of music CDs courtesy of Timothy, and the latest novel from her favorite author from Mitchell. Emily exclaimed that they were the best birthday presents ever. Then she hugged Mitchell again, a nice warm friendly hug that lingered. She had rested her head on his shoulder and clung to him so tightly that they nearly melded together.
"Thank you," she had said. "Thank you so much. You guys are really like a second family to me."
He could feel the warmth and wetness of her tears melt though the stiff linen of his shirt. But they both quickly recovered. She had a ton of things to do and the kids had to get off to school. But as they broke away, Emily looked at him unlike she had ever looked at him before. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time and he felt embarrassed and looked away and excused himself to finish getting ready for work.
When Mitchell arrived home from work a little earlier than usual, Emily was upstairs getting ready to go out with Brian. He could hear her humming happily in that silly off-tune voice of hers behind the closed door of her bedroom. He went to change, but she apparently heard him in the hallway and her door swung open.
"Mitch? I need an opinion," Emily stated, her voice rife with indecision. "A guy's opinion."
"Oh?" he sighed uneasily, looking around and realizing that obviously he was the only guy within a hundred yards of the sound of her voice. He cleared his throat. "You want my opinion?"
"You're a guy. So, yeah, you'll do."
"So, um ... what's up?"
"Which looks best? This? Or this?"
Emily stood at the door of her bedroom, dressed only in a black satin thong, thigh high stockings, and heels. She held up a little black dress against her body, actually little more than a slip, made from a light silky fabric with a pair of tiny spaghetti straps and a back that swooped dangerously low. In her other hand, still on the hangers, she held a bow necked white knit top and a plaid pleated skirt that would ride low on her hips and end far above her knees. In the available moment, Mitchell imagined her in both outfits. His mouth watered. His pulse raced. His palms sweated. She would look fantastic in either; classically elegant in the former, fabulously hip in the latter, and incredibly sexy in either. But this moment demanded a judgment call and he dispensed with all logic and went with his gut feeling.
"You'd look great in both outfits, Emmie, but to be honest, for this occasion-and he is taking you to the Fox and Hounds tonight, right-I'd go with the little black dress."
"He is taking me to the Fox and Hounds, but are you sure?" With that she raised up the skirted outfit and lowered the little black dress somehow exposing as little of her gorgeous body as possible although there was plenty available from which his thirsty eyes could drink.
"Well, what are we trying to say here?" Mitchell asked. "A hot and sexy, take me, right here and right now, or a coolly elegant, spend your money, take your chances but it will be more than worth it in the end?"
"Hmm," Emily hummed. She turned and looked at her reflection in the tall mirror beside her dresser, holding up one outfit then the other. As she did so, he was afforded delicious side views of the lush lean curves of her breasts and hips. Then she held up the little silk black dress. "I think I'll go with elegance."
"Good choice, mademoiselle."
She laughed girlishly and sexily and Mitchell had to fight off those familiar lush warm feelings of enchantment. He was over her, wasn't he? There was certainly nothing wrong in finding her attractive, after all she was a pretty and sexy girl and most any guy would have been attracted to her. But she belonged to someone else and he wouldn't let her innocent beauty play games with his feelings.
Later when Brian had arrived and she waltzed down the stairs, he had to admit that his breath was taken away. She looked like a fantasy come true, her face aglow in an eternal grin, the dress clinging to her every curve, her young firm breasts surging up from the black silk and jiggling ever so enticingly, and her legs in the sheer black stockings, long and shapely, kicking down each step. He looked at Brian and noted the casual blasé smile and wondered if this guy truly realized what he had in Emily. He hoped so for her sake.
Then they were off. He remembered standing at the doorway waving, watching as they slipped into Brian's car and motored away in his infernal foreign machine. He thought of being that young again, of having his entire adult life yet to unfold before him. He remembered how he had been that age himself with everything to live for and without a single care in the world. Oh, those were the days! His life had changed with kids and a career and a house to care for now, but he wasn't sad because he had had his good times and now it was time for hers.
It was shortly before midnight when Emily came home, much earlier than Mitchell expected. He had anticipated that she might not be back till morning. Mitch was sitting in the family room reading, but had heard Brian's German iron pull up, music blaring loudly. The engine hadn't stopped running when the car door opened and shut forcefully and the car sped off.
The front door opened with a rush and Emily ran up the stairs to her room. Puzzled, Mitchell waited a few minutes expecting her to come down and say hello, but she didn't. He knocked back the last of his bourbon and went upstairs. He ended up standing outside her bedroom upstairs hearing the faint sounds of Emily sobbing.
"Emmie? Are you okay?"
There was no immediate answer so he rapped lightly on her door.
"Emily? You all right?"
"No! Go away," she cried out, her voice thick and heavy with tears.
"What's wrong, Emily? Emily? Are you okay?"
She didn't answer but her sobs grew softer.
"All right, but if you want to talk, I'll be downstairs for a while."
Mitchell went back downstairs, his mind racing over the possibilities. Of all that his fanciful mind could conjure, there was one that emerged, big and ugly. It must be something with Brian and their engagement.
It was a while later when Mitchell heard footsteps on the stairway. He looked up to see Emily descending slowly, her new white satin robe snugged tightly around her waist. She went straight to the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet.
"What's that stuff that you drink all the time that tastes like medicine?" she sniffled.
"Yeah, that's it," she said, looking for and pulling out the half gallon of Jim Beam and filling a glass.
Emily took a sip then a long healthy drink. By this time, Mitchell was up and moving toward her. She glanced over at him, her eyes were reddened and damp with tears. What little makeup she had been wearing was smeared. Mitchell moved up beside her and put his arm around her waist. She leaned toward him and laid her head heavily against her shoulder.
"What happened, honey?"
Emily turned toward him and fell into his paternal embrace. She began to sob again and Mitchell simply held her and let her cry, her warm tears streaming down and wetting his shirt.
"Brian ... he's ... he's ... I'm ... oh, fuck, Mitch ... I don't know where to start."
Emily crushed her face into his chest and Mitchell held her tenderly as the tears continued to roll.
"You don't have to say a thing, Emmie," Mitchell said softly as his hand brushed the back of her head, through her silky chestnut red curls. Her arms had looped around him, clinging to him with an urgent desperation. He ran his hands tenderly up and down her back feeling the warmth of her body underneath the satin robe and nothing else.
It could have been a half hour before either of them moved. Emily sniffed and lifted her head from Mitchell's chest and looked up at him with her tear-stained eyes that were a fragile gray, not the sparkling blue-green that he was used to seeing.
Emily backed away and lifted her bourbon for another drink. She grabbed for a tissue and began to daub at her eyes. Silently she stepped down into the family room and slumped into the middle of the couch. Mitchell sat on the end beside her.
"Are you all right, Emmie?" he asked, reaching out to caress her cheek. His thumb moved over her soft plush skin, wiping at the traces of her tears.
"I'm all messed up, Mitch," she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I don't know what to do, or where to start."
She looked at him again, her eyes filled as much with pain as with tears. Emily took his hand and pressed it to one cheek then the other. Then she kissed it.
"You don't have to say a thing, Emmie," Mitchell said.
"I ... I'd better spill it out ... I have to tell someone," she said tearfully.
"Take your time. We have all night," Mitchell remarked.
It took her a while to gain her composure, but Emily eventually took a deep breath and began to speak. As her words unfolded, it seemed that the tears began to dry up.
"Brian took me to the Fox and Hounds-that place is so beautiful. My birthday, a romantic, elegant restaurant, my guy-my fiancé. Everything was so beautiful. Then before we order dessert he tells me that he has something to say, something that had been bothering him for a while, something that I should know before we get married ..."
Emily's voice trembled and then trailed off for a moment. She daubed at her eyes again. She took another healthy swig of bourbon.
"God, this stuff is nasty," she said with a shiver.
"But it's good medicine," Mitchell replied.
"And I really need some good medicine," she said. Her back straightened up. "Brian looks at me with that silly grin of his and says that he has a confession to make, that he's not really bi after all, that he's really gay." Emily looked directly at Mitchell's eyes. "After all these years, he's finally discovered his true nature, that he's out and out gay."
"Whoa! That's a helluva way to wish your girlfriend happy birthday! So what about the wedding?"
"He proposed that we go through with it, sort of like a business proposition, and why not, since we have made all the arrangements."
"But what about after the wedding?"
"Brian says that we can go ahead like we've always planned, find a nice place together, settle into married life, throw dinner parties, travel, everything we've talked about ... except that he wants to be free to spend time with his boyfriends and go off and find some dicks to suck when he feels like it."
"Jesus! Get married so you can date someone else. What about you?"
"Oh, he said that I could go out with someone else, and if I ever found someone that I would rather be with then we could divorce."
"Unbelieveable! So he wants you and everything that comes with you, but he wants to be free to do whatever else he wants. Jesus! I feel so sorry for you. What about kids and all? You've talked about wanting to have children."
"So you had no idea he was gay?"
"I thought he was bi. I didn't mind if he went with guys once in a while. But getting married meant giving that up and he didn't want to."
"What about diseases? What about AIDS? What about you? Gee, it sounds pretty god-damned selfish of him." The more he thought about it, the madder Mitchell became. "Didn't you have any idea that he was gay? You've known him for a long time."
"Guess I didn't want to believe it. He was the first guy I was ever with. We broke up a few times and I'd date other guys but would always seem to end up back with him."
"I find it hard to believe you didn't suspect something."
"Okay, maybe he did really like blow jobs a little more than most guys, and maybe in some way I suspected something, but I'm a very trusting person. I loved being with him. On holidays when my family would be over at our house to celebrate and things got pretty boring, we'd go up to my room and have sex. I never really thought about it ... until now."
"I'm sorry that you have to go through this, Emmie. I'm really sorry."
"Don't be. I got myself into this. I'll figure something out."
"So what about the wedding?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought about that yet. And oh, shit! I've got to go over to my folks tomorrow. What'll I do?"
"You're not thinking of going through with it, are you?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Who knows, maybe it could work out." The look on Emily's face grew sad. "I don't know what to do, Mitch."
Mitchell reached out to her and encircled her with his arms and she fell heavily against him.
"It'll be all right, Emmie. You'll figure something out don't worry. To blue skies and brighter tomorrows."
He hoisted his glass and she held hers up and they clinked them together and drank the last of their bourbon. Then Emily set her glass down on the coffee table and looked at him appealingly.
"Hold me, Mitch," she requested in a soft weak voice just a breath away from a sob. "Hold me and don't let me go."
Mitchell wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head against his chest. As she leaned toward him, he lay back against the cushions at the end of the couch and she lay on top of him. She sobbed once again and then her tears stopped. Mitchell bent down to kiss the top of her head, drawing in her natural scent and that of her perfume.
They ended up falling asleep together on the couch. When Mitchell awoke in the middle of the night, they had shifted slightly on the couch. His legs were stretched out across the seat cushions and Emily was curled up on top of him. As they had shifted in their sleep, her robe had fallen open and he felt the lush curve of her bare breast press into his palm, its taut nipple rubbing against his hand.
When he lifted his head, Mitchell could see that she was sound asleep. His thumb and fingers moved gently against the soft skin of her firm breast. Emily sighed and shifted position, thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand. He knew that his body wanted the taste of hers, but this moment was so thoroughly inappropriate. He held her gently and tried to purge his prurient thoughts.
Mitchell slowly retrieved his hand from her breast and the ensuing draft stirred Emily. She lifted her head sleepily and immediately noticed her dishabille. She straddled his hips and pushed up to sit atop him while she fixed her robe. Emily looked down at him and smiled.
"Guess we fell asleep," she said in a near whisper as she drew the white satin over the full swell of her breasts and cinched up the belt. "Sorry, 'bout that, Mitch. Didn't intend to give you a little show."
"S'okay. I was sleeping anyway."
Emily bent down and kissed him on the cheek, then climbed up from the couch.
"It's late. We should both go to bed," Emily said and Mitchell nodded in sleepy agreement. They walked up the stairs together and paused at the top. "Thanks for being there for me, Mitch. You're a good man."
Mitchell smiled and watched as Emily padded down the hall to her room. Then he turned around and went to his own room. It didn't take long for him to fall sound asleep.
* * *
The next several days were obviously difficult for Emily. After leaving to spend the remainder of the weekend with her family and friends, she returned Sunday evening and seemed to throw herself into her work and studies. No detail around the house was overlooked. After dinner one evening, Mitchell saw her standing at the sink washing dishes. At first he didn't give it a second thought, but then he noticed her shoulders quiver sharply and her head bend forward. She sniffled when he approached.
"You okay, Emmie?" he asked.
"I'm good," she answered, raising up her head proudly. "I'm all right."
Mitchell stood behind her. He could tell that everything was not all right and wanted to do something. He eased up closely behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, deliberately trying to touch her in a comforting, friendly and non-sexual way. As he held her gently, he felt Emily lean back against him, her head sort of leaning up beside his, her arms folded over on top of his around her waist, and her back and butt pressing firmly against his body. Mitchell could tell that her body was wound up so tightly that she was trembling.
It may have been a minute, it may have been ten that they remained like this, but Mitchell didn't want to let her go. Soon enough the trembling stopped, but the tightness in her body remained. Mitchell slowly eased his hands from under hers and drew them around to her back. As he moved them up along her back, Emily leaned forward and rested her hands on the edge of the sink. Mitchell worked his hands up over her taut stiff flesh to her shoulders. Emily tilted her head forward as his hands began to move in soft gentle but insistent circles.
"Gees, there's a big knot right here," Mitchell said, circling his fingers around the base of her neck.
"Oh, god, that feels so good, Mitch, please don't stop," Emily pleaded, arching her back and pushing against his hands, surrendering to the pressure of his palms and fingers.
Mitchell didn't stop until he felt every muscle of her back relax. He ran his hands over her back, massaging and caressing her warm supple body through the soft fabric of her top. A few times, Emily moaned, but otherwise they were silent as he plied her flesh from waist to shoulders and back again. When he was satisfied that her tenseness was relieved and his job was finished, Mitchell embraced her from behind, his arms wound safely around her waist, his face nestled beside hers, their bodies pressed together snuggly and warmly.
"This feels really nice, Mitch," Emily whispered. "I'm not sure that I could make it through this time without someone like you."
"Thanks, Emmie," Mitchell replied. "Just let me know if there's anything else I can do."
"I will, Mitch. I will," she said, turning to face him. "Maybe it takes someone who knows pain and loss to really understand. I mean that I know what I'm going through is no where near what you did when your wife died, but just knowing that you're around and that you care means so much to me."
"I'm glad to help, Emmie," Mitchell remarked. "Everyone's life is so different and unique, but I know that I couldn't have gotten through without the help of some very good friends."
"Any of them as good at massages as you are?"
"Well," Mitchell remarked chuckling. "My buddies aren't exactly the type to give out massages, if you know what I mean."
"Then I'm very lucky that I have you," Emily replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly.
Emily turned back to the sink to finish washing the dishes while Mitchell poured a glass of wine and headed toward the door leading out to the deck. As he stepped through into the cool late summer air, her could hear Emily humming an off-key tune and felt as if things were returning to normal.
* * *
A few days later, Mitchell was in his home office sorting through the pile of snapshots from the past year. He had managed to arrange them chronologically and was in the process of fitting them into a photo album. He was amazed at how the kids had grown, how much older and mature Kelly seemed to be despite her seventeen years, how tall and rangy Timothy was becoming.
Then there were the pictures where Emily began to appear, in her massacred cheerleader outfit for Halloween, in her tank and PJ pants lounging near the Christmas tree, in an elegant light blue dress before going out with Brian. In little more than a year, she had become such a dear part of their family, and there no longer seemed to be a huge empty gap in their home.
Mitchell slipped the heavy album back onto the shelf and gazed at the other older volumes. Impulsively he pulled down one from two years before. There was Kelly in braces and Timothy in his Cub Scout uniform. There was Mitchell and Angela, arm-in-arm in front of a wishing well while on vacation. Even though they had been having problems, they were both smiling broadly. He had always thought that there would be time to patch things up between them, to get back to the way things had been when they were first together, the fun little trips, the dinner parties with friends, the terrific sex. But then she found out the bad news and there was no time for anything other than doctors and clinics and hospital stays. He grinned sadly. There are no Mulligan's in life, he thought. No second chances, just the pain and guilt.
"Whatcha doing?" Emily asked cheerfully as she poked her head in the doorway. She was flushed and rosy from her workout and edged into the room, setting her purse and gym bag down by the door.
"Oh, just going through some old pictures," Mitchell said, flipping over a couple of pages.
"Is that Angela?" she asked as she sidled up beside where Mitchell sat in the high-backed chair.
"Yeah," Mitchell nodded. "This was at her parent's 50th wedding anniversary."
"Yeah, she was," Mitchell replied, feeling his voice tremble. "I thought she was the love of my lifetime. Maybe that's what's wrong with me, maybe that was my one and only chance at happiness and I blew it."
"What do you mean, blew it?" Emily asked. "It wasn't your fault that she got ill."
"I know, but that's not what I mean," Mitchell said. He looked up as Emily sat on the edge of the desk right beside him, looking intently at the open photo album. "Things hadn't been going real well for a while between us, things were said and done, things that we never had time to make up for."
"That's all right, Mitch," Emily said, her voice soft and comforting. She put her arm around his shoulders.
"She passed so quickly, I never had the chance to tell her that I was sorry. I never had the chance to make it up to her."
"There's a lot of things we never have time for, aren't there, Mitch?" Emily said softly. "That's why there's always a new tomorrow to try and make things better. That's why you have to live for the future and not dwell in the past."
"You're starting to sound like Stuart," Mitchell chuckled painfully.
"Maybe that's because we both care about you and want to see you happy."
"Do you? Do you want to see me happy?"
"Of course, Mitch. I just love you and your kids to pieces and want the very best for all of you. You know that."
"I guess I do, but it's comforting to hear you say it."
"Anything I can do for you, honey. You've been such a help for me lately, it's the least I can do."
Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his hair, surrounding him with a warm hug. Mitchell patted her arm and sighed deeply.
"I can move on, I've done that I think," Mitchell admitted. "It's just that I'm not sure that I can forgive myself for treating her so badly."
"Didn't you see to it that she went to the doctor, and cared for her when she needed you most, and visited her every chance you could?"
"Yes, I had to, I wanted to."
"Didn't you see to it that her every last need was met, and ever since haven't you honored her by being the best dad you can to your kids?"
"Then I don't think you have to beat yourself over the head with some lingering feelings of guilt," Emily said, lifting her head up and turning his face up toward her. "You did everything you could with the opportunities you had. I think you've been amazing."
"Thanks, Emmie," Mitchell replied, patting his hand on top of hers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Emily nodded and hugged him again. "A wise man told me once that there is always a tomorrow, isn't there?" she said.
Mitchell stretched out and looped his arms up and around her in an awkward but well-intentioned hug. She leaned toward him and giggled when she slipped off the desk and plopped onto his lap.
"Oh, my," Mitchell said, feeling the warm firm curves of her ass press into his lap.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" Emily remarked.
"Yes. Cozy. Very," Mitchell replied. They leaned toward each other, their foreheads touching lightly. "Thank you for being such a sweetheart, Emmie. I don't know what I would have done this past year without you."
"And thank you for taking me into your home and making this so much more than just a job," Emily said.
"Better than your last family?" Mitchell asked.
"Oh, much better," Emily replied. "They were nice and all, but I never really felt as safe and as well-loved as I have here with you guys."
There was a warmth and intimacy to the moment, something that seemed to pull them closer together.
"Dad! Dad!" Timothy called out as he rushed into the office. He pulled up short and stared when he saw Emily sitting on his father's lap. Mitchell jumped at the innocent intrusion and Emily tried to get up from his lap.
"What is it?" Mitchell said excitedly as Emily slipped off his lap and he stood up.
"Kelly won't get off the computer and she isn't doing homework."
"What do you need it for?"
"I hafta find some revolutionary war pictures for my Social Studies project," Timothy explained. "She's been on it all night chatting with her friends and won't get off."
"That's all right, sweetie," Emily said. "You can use my computer if you want."
"Cool," Timothy responded.
"Just don't let her get any cooties on you," Mitchell warned.
"Dad! There are no such things as cooties," Timothy insisted before storming off up the stairs.
"Your little boy is growing up so fast," Emily said to Mitchell as she followed Timothy upstairs.
Mitchell smiled and filed away the old photo albums. As he paused and glanced out the window, he felt an unfamiliar sense of relief. Somehow just talking with Emily had helped him immensely. All of his convoluted emotions felt like they were straightened out. The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that he had given his all. Sure, he had made mistakes and fate had taken away the possibility of making up for his errors. But every day since he had tried to do all he could for his kids. Now maybe he was truly ready to do something for himself.
When he went upstairs to check on Timothy's progress, Mitchell got a chuckle out of seeing his boy sitting with Emily at her computer, laughing and joking as they surfed together for the pictures he needed. Emily looked up and smiled, a twinkling blue-green eye winking at him. When he lay down to sleep that night, Mitchell felt completely relaxed, tired from the day, but loose and light and settled. He had this king-sized bed and a lot of love and passion to share. Would the girl of his dreams be ready to step out of his reverie now that he was ready to accept her?
* * *
"Anybody home?" Mitchell called out as he closed the front door behind him. It was a Friday evening and he was late getting home from work.
"Just me," Emily sang out from upstairs.
Mitchell set down his briefcase and keys and climbed the stairs.
"What are the kids up to?" he asked.
"Timothy is over at Duncan's house and Kelly is spending the night at Eileen's," Emily replied from inside her room. She was sitting at her desk writing.
"When's Timmy due home?"
"Don't you remember, he's spending the night so they can get an early start on their Boy Scout outing at the Science Center tomorrow."
"Yeah, that's right," Mitchell remarked, remembering. "So when are you heading out tonight?"
"I'm not," Emily said. "I'm thinking of spending a quiet evening at home."
"Really? You look like you're dressed up to go out."
"This old outfit?" she asked, looking herself over. A bulky white knit sweater and a short gray plaid skirt was topped off with a pair of tall black boots. "I guess. Maybe."
"I think you look cute," he said, looking her over.
"Thank you," she said sounding appreciative but otherwise unimpressed.
"Tell you what, Emmie, if you aren't doing anything tonight, do you feel like grabbing a bite to eat someplace? I'm starved."
"I am kind of hungry. Sure, why not?"
"Let me wash up real quick and I'll meet you downstairs."
Mitchell was the one who ended up waiting downstairs. Emily came to the head of the stairs and then glided down slowly. Mitchell looked up at her and smiled. She hadn't changed her clothes, maybe touched up her hair and makeup, but she looked terrific.
"You look gorgeous, Emmie," he said.
Emily didn't respond immediately but her grin spoke of her pleasure for receiving his compliment.
"So where do you want to go?" she asked. "I'm kind of poor."
"How about Shiro? I'll pay."
"I haven't been there yet. I've heard they have a yummy sushi bar."
"Anything you want tonight."
Mitchell helped Emily into her black leather jacket, slipped on his own and they headed out to dine. The restaurant was near by, housed in an older Greek Revival styled mansion built many years ago by a wealthy industrialist. They left Mitchell's SUV with the valet and entered the serene and slightly funky foyer. The soft lighting, pale walls, fine linens and cozy fireplaces lent an air of comfort and quiet. They were met by a tall, beautiful Asian hostess, and were shown past the array of Asian artwork and rich wood paneling up the grand center stairway. Their intimate table was set near an inviting field stone fireplace that flickered warmly.
"This feels strange not having the kids around," Mitchell remarked as they settled in. "But it's nice, don't you think?"
"So is this a date?" she asked, her blue-green eyes sparkling.
"A date?" Mitchell said, a little confused for the moment. "Hardly. At least I don't think so. You're still my nanny so it really can't be a date."
Emily looked disappointed.
"Let's just say that we're a couple of friends celebrating ... um, let's see ... how about a great start to your final year of Master's studies."
Her look of disappointment didn't diminish.
"I was kind of hoping for the date angle," she remarked.
"Why? Would you like to date someone like me?"
"Not someone like you, Mitch," she said, her eyes rich with feeling as she gazed over at him. "I think you'd make a great date."
Their lovely Asian waitress approached them quietly and respectfully interrupted them, introducing herself with a formal little bow. Mitchell ordered some sake for them and they looked over the menu, which was an interesting blend of Japanese and French cuisine.
"So what's good here?" she asked.
"Everything," Mitchell replied. "I'm not that big on sushi so I can't judge that, but everything else I've tried is great."
They settled on the wasabi shumai and the foie gras with raspberry demi-glace and fresh berries for appetizers. Emily ordered one of the house special plates of sushi and Mitchell settled on the panko shrimp and crab cakes. They made a certain agreement to share.
"So have you heard from Brian?" Mitchell asked. Emily looked down and away sadly for a moment. Then her expression brightened and she looked back up at him.
"He's doing terrific as always," she said. "He's that way you know. Nothing ever bothers him."
"Then how are you doing about all that?"
"I'm okay. I've gotten through it and I'm not looking back."
"I'm glad to hear that. I only wish that there was something more that I could do."
"What more could you do, Mitch? You were so terrific. You were supportive and yet gave me my own space. I don't know what I would have done without you and the rest of my friends and family."
Mitchell looked at her closely. She was smiling and looking bright and optimistic. There was a lingering trace of regret in her eyes, but just a trace. Otherwise she was upbeat and fresh and lively.
"You know. If there is ever anything that I can do for you, anything, all you have to do is ask."
"I know," she responded. "And I am so glad that you are that way."
Their waitress brought the wasabi shumai and the foie gras, refreshed their sake and they began to eat.
"This is sooo good!" Emily exclaimed as she sampled the wasabi.
Mitchell fell in love with the look on her face, so expressive, so intense, so animated, so on the edge. He grabbed his own fork and was forced to admit that the flavor was terrific. Emily sampled the foie gras and looked across at him intently.
"Can I ask you something?" she said in a soft voice.
"Tell me about your wife," Emily said.
Other than a few nights ago looking at the photo albums, they had never really talked about Angela. Emily had never asked, Mitchell had never spoken. But the subject had always been sitting there between them.
"At one point, for a long time actually, I thought that our love was going to last forever," Mitchell began. "She was beautiful and smart and everything a man could ask for in a woman."
"Why do I get the feeling that there is a 'but' in there someplace?"
"I thought I had the world by the balls. I had everything, a great house, a terrific job, the woman of my dreams."
"So what happened?"
"I'm not sure exactly. The kids came along and suddenly the whole world changed. I was ready for them. We had married fairly late in life, you know. But I was mature and was ready for the midnight feedings and poopy diapers and all of that parenthood stuff. But somehow, someway, she changed. Angela went from being this sweet sexy woman of my dreams to some sort of perverted nightmare. I loved her so much that I kept trying to make it work, I took her crap and bitchiness hoping that someday she would realize the way I felt about her, but she seemed to push me away at every step of the path."
"I mean, it got so that she didn't like the way I kissed her, the way I touched her. Hell, she even criticized me for the way I took off my pants. It was like I suddenly woke up sleeping beside a stranger. She wanted me to change virtually everything about myself but I had to accept her the way she was. There was no sweet and sexy girl anymore, just this insufferable bitch."
"So what happened?"
"For a long time, nothing. Then she came home one day from her doctor's visit, all in tears. There was something suspicious and she needed to go back for more tests. I went with her and stood beside her all the way. Cancer. Modern man's nightmare. She was riddled with it. I knew from her family history that she was susceptible, but I had no idea. I was totally unprepared. So was she. As I look back on it, it's all a blur. Before I knew it, she was gone, and I've never forgiven myself for all the terrible things I said to her and the even worse things that I thought about her. Those I kept to myself."
Emily reached across the table to him.
"How long has it been?" she asked letting her warm hand settle on his.
"Don't you think it's time that you did something about it?"
"Mitchell, you need to find yourself another sweet and sexy girl. You have a lot to offer her. I can see it in your intensity, your deep feelings, and your sense of what's right. I think you need to look to the future, you know. When your kids are grown and moved out you'll need someone or something to keep you occupied."
"You're right. That's what Stuart is always saying. But it's so hard. So fucking hard. Without the right one, the right woman ..."
"Maybe you need to look someplace new, find someone new."
"I know. I've looked around. But it's hard for me. I'm not like most guys. I don't just jump the first set of bones that comes along."
"I know, and that's part of your charm."
"But look at me and my situation, I'm close to fifty, still with two kids to support. The young women I meet are way too young and aren't ready for the family scene, and the older ones are pretty much done raising their kids and want some freedom. Besides they seem too ... too ... too old and set in their ways. I still have some growing to do. Maybe that sounds weird, but I haven't found a happy medium."
"Maybe you're placing too much emphasis on your age. It's really the least important thing after looks for making a solid relationship."
"You're probably right."
"I know I'm right, Mitch."
"In the last few months I've come to realize that I've still got so much to offer. I know that I have this great capacity to love someone, someone special. Every day I can feel that love and passion in my heart and soul. Guess the next girl who comes into my life will enjoy the benefits."
"What do you mean?"
"I wish I was that girl."
Out of nowhere, their waitress quietly appeared and cleared away their finished appetizers. She seemed so apologetic to be interrupting them, but their mood had shifted direction and a moment later their waitress returned with their superbly presented entrees.
"You should try this," Emily said, offering up a forkful of sushi.
"But it's raw fish and who knows what else," Mitchell protested.
"Trust me. It's really good. Maybe you'll like it."
"And maybe I'll get really sick or have some sort of hideous allergic reaction."
Mitchell knew that his protest was futile. He accepted the forkful and, after finding it delicious, asked for a second. Emily presented him with another and he nibbled it off her fork.
"This is really nice," Mitchell remarked looking around at the dining room.
"It is. I just love the food," Emily replied.
"Well, yeah, that too," Mitchell said. "But I meant this, you and me." He waved his fork back and forth between them. "This is really nice."
"It is. You're a really fun companion, Mitch."
"You know, this may sound weird but I've been noticing the old lady over there, kind of over your shoulder-don't look just yet. But she's been giving us the eye ever since we sat down."
"Hmm, oh really," Mitchell remarked, trying to resist the desire to look at the old lady. "And what do you think that's all about?"
"I think she disapproves."
"You here with me."
"Too bad for her."
"Of course, we could always give her something to really disapprove."
Emily set down her fork and leaned forward over the intimate little table. Mitchell cast a quick look over his shoulder at the little old lady who was sitting with some little old man and giving them a nasty look. Was it the difference in their ages or were the biddy's undies in a bunch for some other reason? When Mitchell turned back toward Emily, her face was nearly right before him and he leaned forward the last inch to kiss her.
The melding of their lips together sent violins ringing through the air. The kiss may have started to be all about show but its effect on the participants was considerably different. Mitchell couldn't believe how soft and sweet and moist were Emily's lips, tasting of sake and sushi. The moment had come so quickly, the impulse so sudden, that he hadn't taken the time to realize just what was happening. But once their lips touched, his mind began whirling and he leaned forward into the kiss, burning the memory deep into his mind.
"Well," Emily said as they parted and picked up their forks again. "How do you like your crab cakes?"
"Um, they're ... uh, great," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "Moist, tender, very tasty. Want a bite?"
Emily nodded and he scooped up a generous forkful and offered it across the table to her. Emily gave him a wry smile and then took the tasty morsel off his fork with a flourish that was all pink tongue, white teeth, full red lips, and soaked in sex. The look in her eyes and the way she nibbled at the crab cake was definitely getting to him, raising his level of arousal several notches. She must know what I'm thinking, she has to, he thought.
They worked their way through their entrees, sharing nibbles and bites and enjoying the delicious food and the wide-ranging conversation. By the time he finished his last bite, Mitchell felt entirely relaxed. The sake and Emily's great smile had a lot to do with it. She was a wonderful companion, not shallow or superficial, but thoughtful and full of humor. And her memorable kiss, so impromptu and tantalizing, was giving Mitchell ideas, nice ideas.
When their waitress returned to clear away their empty dinner plates she asked if they would be interested in dessert. Emily and Mitchell exchanged a contemplative look.
"Would you like dessert back at the house?" Mitchell asked.
"Only if you can whip up something like that chocolate swirl cheesecake," Emily said, pointing to the example on the dessert tray the waitress had carried over.
"You've got me on that one," Mitchell said and they decided to stay and split a lovely slice of the confection.
When they finally left the restaurant, a cool breeze was stirring and quickly tousled Emily's hair. The valet was prompt and helped her duck inside Mitchell's SUV. She flipped down the sun visor and combed her chestnut red locks back into place with her fingers.
"Oh, that wind! I look a mess!" she remarked with disgust.
"I don't think so," Mitchell replied, gazing over at her, as he steered the car toward the street. "I think you look beautiful."
Emily reached over and patted his cheek.
"And I think that you're a sweet man."
Within minutes they were back home.
"I don't know what could make this evening any better," Emily said as they stood in the warmth of the foyer and Mitchell helped her out of her jacket.
"I do," Mitchell replied. "How about brandy in the family room?"
When Emily agreed, he went to the liquor cabinet while Emily made her way to the family room. Mitchell poured and carried the brandy into the family room and rejoined Emily.
"It's been a while since it's been just the two of us at home."
"Yeah, and a lot has happened since then," Emily remarked as she took the snifter Mitchell offered her. "But here we are again." She glanced over at him and took a sip from her glass. "Thanks for tonight, Mitch."
"Don't mention it."
"And thanks for being such a gentleman."
"You're so sweet. How could I be any other way around you?"
Mitchell gazed at her, feeling his smile spread across his face.
"You know, Mitch, I just love it when you look at me like that."
"Like you did just now. Sometimes I just melt when I see that look in your eyes."
"That look of deep desire."
"You're playing with me, aren't you."
"I think you're playing with yourself, Mitchell. I've seen that look before. The first time was a while after I started working for you. You looked at me like I was the most beautiful, most precious thing in the world. And you're always so cute about it, because you never say a word, you just look into my eyes and I can sense the way you feel about me."
"Oh? And what do you sense about my feelings right now?" Mitchell looked into her blue-green eyes. With her hair still tousled from the walk inside and a glowing blush in her cheeks, Emily looked thoroughly enchanting.
"You're making me think that you're in love with me."
"Uh-huh. Love. L-O-V-E, Mitch."
"Not that I'm admitting that I am," Mitchell said evasively. "But let's say if I were, what would you think about it?"
"Not that I'm saying you are, but if you were, I would want you to know that I feel the same way."
Their mutual desire to avoid a confession of deep feelings came as amusing to both of them. They grinned and chuckled. Then Mitchell turned a bit serious.
"Really? You mean that you could fall in love with a worn-out old fart like me?"
"Mitch, you're not worn-out, you're not all that old, and you're much too polite to fart in my presence."
Mitchell grinned, took a sip of the brandy and cradled the glass in both hands. As he looked at her again, Mitchell sensed all of the feelings that he had ever had for her were starting to flow back inside him again, the feelings that he was once sure he had buried and were lost forever.
"So, are you saying you're in love with me?" he asked.
"Are you in love with me?" she countered.
"I ... I think I am," he said slowly. "I believe I am ... maybe I always have been."
"Good ... that's very good to know, because I'm in love with you."
They were sitting very close, their shoulders brushing together, their hips bumping, their breath mingling. They leaned toward one another, their noses touching and their lips brushing lightly. They set their glasses on the coffee table and eased their arms around one another.
"If this is going to work," Mitchell said, combing his fingers through her silky red locks. "I don't want to fall in love with your youth, or your fresh beauty, or your sexuality, just you."
"I don't know how long it will last but it has to be all or nothing."
"People are going to say some pretty nasty things, and it won't always be easy, but we can't doubt each other."
"Mitch," Emily said. "Please be quiet and kiss me again."
He did. Mitchell took her into his arms and kissed her, their lips melting together from the warmth. When their lips were reluctant to part, they snuck shallow little breaths, the heat of their breathing washing over each other's cheeks. Mitchell found the taste of her mouth deliciously exciting. Their tongues touched and danced an oral tango that ebbed and flowed from her mouth to his and back again. When they finally parted, Mitchell cradled her face with both hands.
"I've dreamed about sharing a romantic kiss with you for a long time," he said. "I just knew it would be something special."
"It helps when you're a good kisser," Emily replied and leaned toward him again.
Their lips touched again, this time with more strength and passion. Mitchell's hands trailed down from her face, drifted lightly past her neck, and glided over the soft knit fabric of her sweater, exploring the swell of her breasts. He could feel the trace outline of her bra and the firm mounds of flesh underneath. As he drew his thumbs over her nipples, he felt them grow taut and erect, and a shiver sweep through her body.
When Mitchell raised her sweater up, he gasped at the sight of her breasts cradled in a sheer little white lace bra. The cups barely covered her nipples and concealed nothing of the heaven that lay underneath. The perfect natural curves of her breasts aroused him tremendously. Emily lifted her sweater up and pulled it off over her head. Mitchell looked deep into her blue-green eyes as his trembling fingers reached out to her, dancing lightly over her sleek tender skin, flirting with the lace edging of her bra.
Emily arched her back and thrust her spectacular breasts toward his hands. When Mitchell's touch remained light and soft, she grabbed his hands and drew them tightly against her yearning sensitive flesh. Mitchell moved toward her, bringing his lips to her lips, to her neck, to her shoulders, to the cleft between her breasts.
He eased the delicate straps of her bra down off her shoulders then pulled the fragile lacy cups away, revealing her gorgeous rosy pink nipples. Mitchell pressed his lips against her silky smooth skin, sampling the tasty sweetness. He drew the tip of his tongue over her creamy skin until it neared a taut erect nipple. Drawing a lazy circle around her nipple, Mitchell teased her with his warm breath, and his parted lips flirted with the puckered aureole. When he closed his lips around the rosy tip and sucked it into his mouth, Emily moaned and threaded her fingers behind his head through his hair to pull him toward her.
Emily sank back onto the plush cushions of the couch. She freed her arms from her bra and pulled it fully down and away from her breasts. Mitchell cupped them with both hands, gently squeezing them and directing the tips toward his mouth. No part of her breasts escaped his lavish attention. He spent precious minutes, kissing and licking her tender sweet breasts, sucking and nibbling on her taut erect nipples until Emily squirmed and wriggled from the intense sensations. She rested her hands on his head, guiding him from breast to breast, arching her back to push them into his hungry mouth.
Mitchell could see the flush of arousal spill down from her face to her neck and chest. Every kiss and lick and nibble brought a sweet squeal from her until finally Emily pulled his head up to kiss him with a fierce passion he had never experienced. Their kiss was long and deep and wet and penetrated him completely. He felt all of his pent-up passions churning up inside him.
Mitchell looked down at her and caressed her with his eyes and fingertips. Then he rose up from the couch while Emily lay back reclining with her arms up over her head, her back arched seductively, one leg up on the couch while the other lay off to the side. Her little gray plaid skirt was folded up to her hips. Her mons was barely covered by a dainty triangle of sheer white lace. Her eyes, her breasts, the angle of her limbs, every part of her sent a thrill of arousal through him.
He reached for her leg that rested up on the couch and began to remove her tall black leather boot. When he had slipped it off and set it aside, he took her foot in his hands and kissed it. Her foot was warm and damp but he didn't care. He kissed her toes and massaged the bottom of her foot. His lips moved slowly up over her ankle and leg, stealing toward her knee, kissing every inch of her shapely calve. When he neared her knee, Mitchell let go of her leg and reached for the other. He removed her other boot and began the same slow trip up her upraised leg. With her skirt fallen up past her hips, he could see that the white lace of her panties was pulled tightly against her sex, revealing the sweet moist cleft.
This time he didn't stop when he reached her knee; Mitchell kept going, kissing and caressing the soft tender skin that he found along her firm trim thigh. By the time he reached her upper thigh, he was kneeling on the couch, his face descending into the warm soft vee of her parted thighs. The scent of her arousal was sweet and pungent. When his lips fell just millimeters from her pussy, Emily grasped his head and guided him to the eager mound of her sex.
He kissed her through the thin lace of her panties, his tongue and lips able to taste her through the sheer damp fabric. He nuzzled his face against her, humming as he ran his tongue over the panty-covered slit and raked his teeth over the hooded cleft at the top. Emily gasped loudly and dug her fingernails into his scalp.
With a husky growl, Mitchell pulled the damp lace of her panties to the side and drew his tongue over the freshly shaven folds of her pussy. Emily let her thighs fall apart, spreading open the sweet pink petals of her most intimate parts. He pressed down against her and let his tongue dance roughly over the split of her center, probing the moist entrance, tasting the tender sensitive ridges and then finding the hard little nub that lay above.
With both hands he gently spread her apart, licking and sucking every part of her sweet little pussy. Her hips moved in a slow needy circle as he laved her with a loving tongue. When he probed at the entrance to her warm center with his fingers, she gasped. When he sucked her clit deep into his mouth while turning and twisting his fingers up inside her, Emily cried out with pleasure. She dug her heels into the couch and lifted her hips up, forcefully pressing her pussy against him.
Mitchell was intent on pleasing her. He wanted to give her so much. Emily had done so much for his family over the past year. But the moment was so far beyond that. She had become a friend, a confidant, a trusted member of the family, and as each moment now transpired, she was becoming his lover, the intimate part that had been missing most of all from his life.
"Emily," he said, lifting his head up from between her thighs. The hungry look of arousal in her eyes spoke volumes about what he hoped that she felt for him. Mitchell wanted to bring her to a place that she had never known, a space of peace and joy and satisfaction that any of us only know once or twice in a lifetime. "I want ... I want to make love to you ... without condition ... without exception ... without-"
Emily placed her forefinger on his lips to quiet him.
"Mitchell, I've wanted you for so long. I've sat up in my room so many nights, dreaming of this, hoping that someday you would come to me, proclaim your love and make love to me just like this. Right now, I'm yours. Take me. Have me any way you choose."
Mitchell leaned back. He looked down at Emily who lie back on the couch, bare to the waist, her skirt pushed up to her waist, her panties pulled to the side, her legs spread, her tender sex parted just for him. He felt such great desire for her. Every cell and sinew of his being flowed toward her in a palpable exchange of energy. Mitchell grinned and kneeled down earnestly between her legs. Emily lay back upon the couch as Mitchell reached for her white lace panties. He tugged them slowly down from her hips, along her long shapely legs, and when they were free of her feet, he tossed them aside with a quick sniff and a sexy grin.
Running his hands back up along her legs, Mitchell gradually kneeled between her legs, kissing her thighs and calves as he brought his warm moist lips closer and closer to her sex. Emily arched her back and lifted her hips up from the couch to offer herself to him willingly. Cupping the cheeks of her ass with both hands, Mitchell raised her glistening sweet pink pussy up to his waiting lips and tongue. He kissed her, he suckled her; his tongue slipped shyly out to taste her drenched pussy. He savored her taste and every shiver that sifted through her body as he explored her luscious folds. Soft little moans escaped her lips as she lay back and let him pleasure her.
All in turn, no part of her greedy little sex went unattended, the smooth sleek and shaven outer folds, the sensitive pink inner ridges, the sodden tight opening, and the hard eager little nub. Mitchell started gently and slowly worked his way up the ladder of arousal until Emily was thrashing about on the couch, her hips circling his mouth wildly, grinding herself against him urgently. Her legs were draped over his shoulders, his face was buried deeply between her thighs, and his tongue and lips and fingers plied her with energy and desire and brought her to the precipice of an extreme climax. Her hands seemed to be pushing him away and pulling him toward her at the same time. Her voice called out to him huskily in a series of cries and sighs.
"Oh, oh, oh, Mitchell!" Emily moaned. "Oh, oh, oh, fuck! Ah! Ah! Oh! Ooo!"
Mitchell never felt more alive and attuned to her gratification. He loved dealing her pleasure, listening for and sensing her response to his every move. What didn't bring an appropriate moan or sigh, he left behind and tried something new. What she liked, he did more and differently. And in Emily's ascendant arousal he felt his own, strong and urgent and intense, and it only caused him to plunge his face down even more wildly between her legs, licking and sucking and probing her with a fierce energy.
Then Mitchell felt it. As he ferociously pressed his face between her legs, Mitchell felt Emily begin to cum. Her thighs clamped tightly to his cheeks, her heels dug into his back, and her fingers wove into his hair as her body began to quiver and shake. Mitchell lapped madly at her drenched pussy, growling viciously and relentlessly. Finally he felt her grow limp and fall back onto the couch. He let his passionate attack recede as well, easing back into gentle licks and soft kisses on her dripping quim.
"Oh, Mitchell!" she cried out, reaching for his ears and pulling him up from between her legs.
Mitchell kissed and licked her trembling, heaving body as she drew him up over it, suckling each delightfully erect nipple before accepting her welcoming kiss on his lips. She purred with satisfaction as their tongues wrestled again splendidly. Their eyes locked together as their hands sifted through each other's hair. Although no words were exchanged, Mitchell could read the compliments welling up in her eyes. He was surprised as she pushed at him, gathering herself together and sitting up on the edge of the couch as he stood up before her.
Emily looked up at him with a tremendous sexy grin. Her hands swept up over his trousers and quickly found his belt. With a deft move, she had undone his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Her hands glided slowly up over his thighs and silken boxers until they located the long hardening tool that lurked underneath. Emily's sparkling blue-green eyes never left his as she stroked him through his silken shorts.
Mitchell tried not to wince or flinch or show signs of arousal, but he couldn't control his response-and he really didn't want to. Emily snaked a hand up the leg of his boxers and ran her fingertips over his full balls and his thickening cock. When she leaned forward and began to kiss and nibble him through the dark blue silk, Mitchell growled harshly.
"Oh, Jesus, Emmie!"
"What's that, Mitch?" she asked with an impish grin. "Can dish it out but can't take it?"
"Oh, I can take it all right," he said, as she dove down again to kiss his silk covered cock. "It's ... it's just been a long, long time since I've felt this way ... or done this."
"Then, I'll take it easy on you, old man," she teased, lightening her grip on him.
"Oh, what the fuck!" he grunted, and then gripped her head and pulled her toward him forcefully.
Emily let out a deep, sexy giggle and reached for the waistband of his shorts. With a firm tug, she pulled them down over his hips and let his erect cock pop out. With both hands she scooped up his balls and cock and guided his long rosy manhood toward her pursed lips.
"Mmm," she purred with a throaty voice. "You have a beautiful cock, Mitch. I just love it!"
Mitchell shuddered to feel her tongue lick him up and down on both sides of his cock and then the top and bottom. Then she dragged her lips all around his rigid shaft before rubbing him all over her cheeks and nose and chin, purring so sexily as she went. As he looked down at her manhandling his member, he had never felt so aroused, so completely turned on. When she began to circle the tip with her wet pink tongue, around and around, he thought his knees would buckle and he had to reach out to her head and hold on.
Emily eased her lips onto the head and began to suck him into her mouth. With just the head inside her hot wet mouth, she sucked him and stroked the rest of his shaft with one hand while the other cradled and fondled his balls. With excruciating grace, Emily began to move her head back and forth, with each pass sucking more of him into her mouth, while her tongue was swirling and circling his throbbing manhood eagerly. Mitchell struggled to tell her how he felt, but each word seemed to bring a more heightened response from her.
"Oh, god, that feels so good!" he growled. "I love ... the way ... you suck me! It's been so long ... feels so good!"
Emily hummed as she sucked Mitchell's long, hard cock deep into her mouth. When the head met the back of her throat, she pushed and sucked on him until she was able to take every inch of him inside and buried her nose into the soft trimmed mesh of his pubic hair. Up and down her head bobbed, her hands covering every inch of his shaft that her mouth and lips didn't.
When she needed a well-deserved breath, Emily continued to stroke his rigid shaft, massaging her slick saliva all over her throbbing rod. With a grin she guided it toward her breasts, rubbing the tip over her taut nipples and then slipping the shaft up between her generous mounds. A deep groan leapt from his lips when she gathered