Archive-name: 3plus/anniesad.txt
Archive-author:
Archive-title: Orphan Annie's Adventures - 1 through 7
This last weekend was a surprise for me, the first time I'd
"done" a married man (though god knows I've looked at 'em in the
past!). When it was all through, though, he could say he'd still
been (mostly) faithful.
I threw this small party for a dozen or so friends Friday
night, sort of a kickoff for the July 4 weekend. John came up
from The City, on his way to the Sierras for a weekend's
backpacking, something his wife never really liked. I think she
went home to mother, or somesuch. Anyhow, the party went late,
and when it was breaking up, John asked if he could stay on the
sleeper in the living room, rather than try to drive on at night
to a dark campground. I said sure.
John and I made up the sleeper and then I went to take a
shower. When I came out, in my robe, he was in the bed and
reading. I said goodnight and turned to head for my bedroom when
he made some funny comment about what he'd just read. I laughed
too, and went over to see more. When he showed me the article, I
recognized it and we started talking. I was soon sitting on the
side of his bed, listening and watching. As I looked I realized
what a real cutie he really was--all that dark hair, the strong
shoulders (all I could see of his body), and those great teeth
that showed when he smiled. I got to thinking what a great find
his wife had. Then, somehow, he made some gesture and his hand
ended up on my leg--and I really don't know how to explain this,
but my hand suddenly went there on top of his. He looked at me
funny and gave me a gentle squeeze as he tried to pull away,
which I returned. He smiled and said, "Ann, I can't. Really."
You know, The Speech.
I just murmured and bent down to kiss him. Of course, the
robe fell open and of course his hand went inside it and about
halfway through the kiss I knew we were in trouble. We sort of
stayed that way for a while and then I moved my legs up onto the
bed. His hand went from my side to my back, and his other hand
went to my butt, stroking it gently. I pulled the covers from
under me and ran my hand down his chest and across his stomach.
He was so strong, too! I nibbled on his ear and he just moaned.
Well, this was fun and all that, but he was right, he WAS (I
mean, "is") married, after all. His hand was now on my breast
and I was going to have to decide something, soon. I made a
decision, sat up, and then swung my leg over to straddle him. He
looked disappointed as I sat up, and then delighted as I moved my
leg across his body. He was on his back and I was sitting across
his thighs.
Now he could put both hands on my breasts. He was so
strong, and yet so gentle! His hands just sort of came up my rib
cage and stroked my breasts from underneath to the nipple. I
found I could sort of sag into his palms. I grabbed his cock and
began to stroke it, and then every once in a while, needing a
little oral contact, I bent down and kissed him or let him suck
my tits. I was warm all over and every part of him I touched was
warm, too.
Then his hand went around and began to play with my butt
again. I lifted myself up and moved up until I was directly
above his cock. I was really wet by now and could feel my cum
running out. I set my pussy on his balls and just stroked it up
his shaft. Up, lift, back, down, again and again. His cock was
really getting wet! He just moaned, and then moved his hand to
grab both my cheeks. He tried to move me just that bit farther
up to where he could slide in, and I really wanted to, but I knew
things would be different tomorrow and next week. "No," I said,
"but wait." He was getting even longer and really throbbing!
His hand began alternating from my breasts to my butt. His
legs went up and then down, and I could feel his pelvis thrusting
in time to my stroking. His eyes were squeezed shut and that
great smile of his was all across his face!
I could feel myself throbbing, too. I was working up a
sweat (I almost laughed out loud when I realized I'd now need
ANOTHER shower!) but he felt so good beneath me I couldn't stop.
My clit was bumping the top of his cock every time I slid up
there and I was just about out of control until--THERE!--and
there again!--and again!--I was coming and the contractions just
wouldn't stop. I collapsed onto him, with my legs wrapped around
his thighs and my feet tucked between his calves, my breasts
crushed against his chest, and his hands stroking my butt and my
back. I really don't think he came, but he was looking really
good! Besides, it was too wet down there to really tell in the
half light.
I would have loved to stay all night. But, like I said, he
was married and it just wouldn't do to have SLEPT with him.
After a few moments I tore myself away and staggered back to my
bed, firmly and quietly shutting the door behind me (no ideas,
John!).
I was asleep almost before I was in my own bed (cold
sheets!). When I awoke, it was late Sunday morning and John was
gone. He'd stripped the bed and left a pile of musky smelling
sheets. I'm sure he had to hike a few extra miles to get me out
of his system!
<<<<>>>>
I don't know about for all of you down in the chilly Bay
Area, but up here the weather was really nice Saturday. So nice,
in fact, that it encouraged me to engage in another of my
exploits. Not that I planned it, of course.
I packed a lunch and headed for the river, the afternoon
being just too hot, even for mint juleps in the back yard. There
was some barbecued chicken and a couple of Calistogas in the
fridge, so I threw them into the cooler with some ice, pulled on
a swimsuit and covered it with some other clothes, grabbed a
towel and a book, and left.
I have this favorite unnamed spot by the river, sandy but
not too populated. You have to know the river roads to find it
and I guess that even though it's a pretty good beach not too
many people know about it. That's an advantage of being a local.
When I parked I knew by the absence of other cars that there were
very few other people there, and when I walked onto the beach I
found one couple near the trail back to the cars, another couple
far down the beach, and this one guy about halfway down. I'm not
terribly shy, and decided to have a bit of fun.
He saw me coming and I saw him looking me over. I'm not
Fawn Hall, but I get my share of admiring looks; this was
apparently one of them. As I walked towards the guy I could see
he was worthy of some admiring looks himself: he was young
(maybe 23--I never did find out), trim, nicely groomed and not
too hairy. He also wasn't pasty white--you know, the way some
guys get who spend too much time at a VDT. So I just set my
things down sort of near him, but not right next to him, just to
see how he'd react. I stood with my back to him as I pulled off
my shirt, being sure to stretch my back as I did so. I also made
sure that as I spread the towel out I was facing him, so that
when I bent down he could see my tits (not the swimsuit doesn't
gap THAT much, but he had a nice view of what little there is!).
I pretended to accidentally pull down my swimsuit bottom a bit as
I pulled off my shorts. Then I laid down and reached for the
sunscreen.
The sunscreen makes me glisten, though I was already
beginning to do so just from the sun's heat. I spread it all
over, being sure to let him see how I tucked it under my top and
massaged my inner thighs. I lifted first one leg and then the
other (a little Jane Fonda workout, here!) as I did the backs of
the calves.
Just as I was finishing my front, my audience got up from
his chair and walked over--a bit stiffly, as he was trying to
hide a nice erection. His buns hardly wiggled as he walked--a
real nice ass. He offered to put the oil on my back (men are SO
predictable!). Well, I thought I'd let that one linger a bit as
I opened a Calistoga and gave it a nice suck, and then found out
his name was Bill, that he had gone to the same JC as I, and that
he was indeed a few years younger than me. I handed him the oil
and flipped over onto my stomach. I reached behind and undid the
knot at my back and asked him to go ahead.
Bill has done this before--he warmed the oil in his hands,
and started rubbing it in smoothly at first, then later kneading
the muscles. I always appreciate experienced men! He stared at
the center of my back, worked his way up to my shoulders, and
then came down my sides. I let him feel a bit of my breasts, but
just the sides. He worked down to the waistline and then started
on my thighs. He was giving me nice, long, slippery strokes, as
he worked his hand up to my butt. He paid a lot of attention
there, sliding his hand beneath the suit more than once and more
than a little distance. He was enjoying this as much as I,
though it WAS getting to be a bit more than I'd first planned.
We had been talking but soon that degenerated into a series
of murmurs as I just relaxed in the warm sun massaged by warm,
knowing hands with warm oil. I would have fallen asleep except
that my butt is a very sensual place and I think Bill was
beginning to discover that. Eventually, I reached for my
waistband and simply lifted my butt enough to push the bottom of
my suit down a bit; he pulled it the rest of the way off and
finished massaging and oiling all of my bottom. After awhile he
sat across the top of my things and began to work my back again,
but this time very clearly he was reaching around to my front to
my nipples. Then he simply lay down on my back and I could feel
his very hard cock nestled into my crack; it felt fine!
I opened my eyes and the other couples were not watching us
at all. I had Bill push up for a moment and I rolled over to
take him into my arms. He kissed me gently and I used my lips to
nibble his. My legs were together but his cock felt just fine,
resting just above my clit, very clearly a situation we both
wanted to do something about.
My shirt comes to just below my butt, so I had him reach for
it and we took a walk over to a nearby grove of willows. You can
imagine the rest. After we were through, it was getting to be
late afternoon and I let him go--I don't think he ever learned my
name, and I don't know his last name. But that beach'll never be
the same, and the willows are now named the "Mr. Bill Memorial
Grove"--at least by me.
<<<<>>>>
When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn. Beside
me, the bed was empty, warm but empty. I rolled over, sleepily
still, in search of the wonderful man who had brought me here
last night, and he was gone. I discovered as I came to that
hugging the pillow instead simply wasn't solace enough, and I
opened my eyes to look for him.
The room was just beginning to warm--there was a soft breeze
coming through the windows and the lace curtains sighed gently.
Going to be another hot day, I thought, but where's Larry? I
listened, and there wasn't a sound. Just the warmth and the musk
scent of the sheets.
This wouldn't do! I'm not even sure where this apartment
is, I've no car, here it is 6:00 or some ungodly hour Sunday
morning, and I'm alone in a strange bed. Well, not totally
strange...the champagne bottle in the bucket looked familiar...
Then I heard a rasp from just outside the window, on the
porch, and saw the shadows change. Larry? or a cat? I
reluctantly abandoned the warmth of the covers and fumbled for a
robe I remembered being somewhere in the bedroom. A very light,
full length cotton number, but enough so that at least I could
step outside and be seen as decent. Wanton, perhaps, but
decently dressed.
There was Larry, dressed in a pair of boxers only.
Gorgeous, muscular legs came out the bottom, and this very well-
built chest was above. On top, an aquiline face was squinting at
the sunrise. I stepped behind and rested my chin on his
shoulder. "Watcha thinking, Larry?" "Dunno, just seemed the
thing to do right now." "Wanna come back to bed with me? Are
you waiting for anything?" "Naw, just maybe the sunrise." "Can
I wait with you?" "Sure, let's sit on the sofa."
With that, we sort of fell onto an old, white wicker
loveseat he had on the porch. I curled up, head on his lap, and
began to drift off to sleep again. His hand went to my waist and
I waited for the sun to warm us.
The sun was a long time coming, and I curled up even
tighter. His hand went to my butt and sort of snuggled me into a
comfortable position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure.
In a few minutes, though, he was moving again. "Coffee?"
"Uh, sure, so early?" "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!"
He was gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard the pots
rattling. It wasn't yet really warm, so when he came back I
must've jumped right onto him. I was sitting across his legs,
cupping the coffee cup and lazing against his shoulder with my
legs pulled up close.
"Larry, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up
first." "Larry, it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you
ever awakened already linked to someone?" He shrugged, but I
noted that the boxers had a new bulge in them. I put my hand
there and confirmed that it wasn't just he fold of the fabric.
"Larry, it feels to me like you're ready now." I was
whispering, but don't know why. No one on the block was
stirring. We had the world to ourselves. His fly was gaping, so
I slipped my hand inside; Larry put his cup down and then took
mine away from me. "Here?" he said. "Sure," I purred.
He took his hand from my waist and moved it to my breast,
but outside the robe. My other hand was pinned against his
chest, so I had to release his manhood to move his hand inside
the robe. He was beginning to get the idea! I felt a warm,
coarse hand gently massage my left boob, then brush the nipple,
then cup me like the balmy Sunday morning this was. He wasn't
rushing things, and neither was I.
I looked up from my chest and saw him smiling at me. I
leaned over and gave him the first kiss of the morning. Gentle,
not even probing, just a kiss. He returned it the same way.
"Larry?" "Mmmm?" "The champagne would have been better than the
coffee..." "OK, I'll remember. You didn't get too wired yet,
did you?" "Lemme show you. Come here." A gentle squeeze and I
had his full attention, his mind and his heart following, as the
expression goes.
In fact, all I ever really wanted was a thousand percent of
his attention. I really get jealous Sunday mornings. Jealous of
the rest of the day, jealous of the telephone, jealous even of
the sunrise. Mornings are meant for me and a friend, with no
interruptions. I think he was beginning to understand, but I had
to know.
"Why'd you get up so early?" "I'm not used to someone who
sleeps like you...it felt too good...has anyone ever told you how
easy it is to share a bed with you? And I don't mean just
sexually--just that you snuggle right in and at the same time
don't push. I'm not used to that, and I guess I'm afraid of
losing it." "Larry, I'm here now. Tomorrow is tomorrow; even
this afternoon is later. Right now, I'm here. I want you to be,
too." He was caressing my nipple, now, and I was squeezing him
every once in a while, just to remind him how very "there" I was.
Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears. I
tried again, a bit of a stretch for my neck from where I was
sitting, but he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got the
same reaction. Gee, was Larry's middle name Pavlov? I stretched
my legs out onto the sofa, and let the robe gap. When he opened
his eyes, the first thing he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my
breast to touch them. Here, too, he was gentle, just stroking
them at first, then slowly parting them as he moved up the inside
from my calves. I just watched his eyes, as they darted from my
face to his hand and back again. He kissed me again, and I
returned it in French. As my tongue went into his mouth, his
hand found my pussy for the fist time that morning. Ah, timing
is everything!
I let his fingers move up and down my lips, searching
gently, probing softly, for an opening. My mouth played with his
lips, and my hand by now was stroking his cock to its full
height. I shifted so my hips would be right next to his balls,
and my hand on his shaft also rubbing his stomach.
I could feel him rustling around in my fur. I was still a
very little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry! He
soon found the source of all the moisture and his fingers just
swam through it. I pulled his head down and let him know it was
time for some tongue work. It was leisurely at first, and then
he got adventuresome. Just as his head almost wholly disappeared
under the robe, the day's first car drove down the street,
stopping at the stopsign just across the road. What are these
people doing here?
Time to go inside. I pulled the robe together and stood up.
For Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it
inside without anyone calling the rectitude enforcers.
He climbed on the bed first and turned to me as I just stood
there and waited. He beckoned and I put a knee up, allowing him
to grab my thigh and the small of my back. I let him kiss my
mouth, then down my throat and chest until the robe fell open and
I let it slide to the floor. Larry pulled me up onto the bed and
then kept going, kissing first each breast, then my belly, and
then burying himself in my forest. My god, he was good! His
tongue found and then circled my clit. It found and probed my
secret tunnel. He ran down the smooth insides of my thighs and
made me tingle from there to the top of my head. I was on my
back, his hands underneath my butt, his head between my legs. I
could just reach the back of his head with my hands, but soon
gave that up to hold my own breasts--I though I was going to
explode if I didn't!
His tongue was bobbing up and down--my back was arching in
time with his tongue. I was sopping wet down my butt and all
over the tops of my thighs. We were going to have to roll over
soon so he could get what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot!
Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting. I rolled him
over and kissed him, then straddled him. I really like the
penetration I get this way, and after last night I wanted to try
this, too, with him. I mounted him, and felt him push the
muscles aside as he entered. Gently at first, for his shaft
wasn't totally wet and some of my contractions had already
started. His hands went to my breasts and he was just playing
with the nipples; I had never seen them so long! And I just kept
finding more and more length to him, too--I could feel him deep
inside, now, I thought he'd have to push my cervix out of the
way! I pulled up a bit, and then down again: he nested a bit
better, and got better still the time after that! Clearly, a bit
of practice and we'd really make a team!
I moved his hands to my butt, and had him stroke me there
for a change. He pulled and pushed at it, and got himself
adjusted even deeper into me. He was concentrating on me so much
he was drooling! This is the kind of attention I wanted!
We began to get our rhythm together. It's exercise like
this that keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it! He tried to
follow me as I pulled up and then down, and each time the
friction just warmed me all that much more. I could feel myself
wrapping around him, the way I do just before a really big
orgasm, and the tension was marvelous!
Then, about two strokes before I expected it, I came. It
made me start bucking up and down like a thing possessed
(probably was!), and about halfway through I could feel him begin
to spurt; for a while I wondered if he'd ever stop. Not just
once, not merely three times. Each time I could feel the
moisture practically slam up into me. He just kept coming, and I
thought I'd drained him last night after all his exuberant
pumping then!
I fell to my side, he still inside. He curled up next to
me, and we dozed. Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I
think that's what woke me. I shook him gently, and as he came
around, I had this big smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on
my mind. "Now, Larry, isn't that better than coffee Sunday
morning?"
<<<<>>>>
Larry gave me the robe. It was lightweight and cool, just
what was needed when the nights never really cool down. I
noticed that when I pulled it snug it showed off my nipples, but
I really think Larry liked it because when it gaped, it gave him
just that little bit of cleavage that men find so much more
exciting. I liked it, though, because it smelled of Larry, who
much to my pleasure was turning out to be a regular.
Since I would be away for almost a week, I took the robe
just to remind me of him. I was running this convention--well,
part of it--and hotel living is supposed to be a bit more modest
than tromping around the house with nothing on. Not, mind you,
that I expected to have any real time to socialize, since it was
going to be a series of 18-hour days.
Well, there WAS going to be this ONE dance, the second
night. I at least would have enough time--if I wasn't already
exhausted from two days of work AND a day of preparation--to try
out the floor. The band was going to be halfway decent, so this
one respite was coveted just a little.
Have you ever noticed how when you're content with things on
the home front is when you get some REALLY interesting attention?
I know men complain about it, saying that just when they're
relaxed with one woman is when they really get hit on, and I know
there's something to that, because when they're self-assured (or
maybe just assured of pussy?) they're just that much more
attractive (there's this other theory, which says that since
they're involved elsewhere it's safe to fool around with them;
maybe that's true, too). Well, I was pretty comfortable with
Larry, seriously had no plans to fool around (not out of
commitment, out of contentment), and I was attracting an unusual
amount of attention.
This older guy, not fat and horny like the stereotyped out-
of-town salesman, but trim, gray, cultivated, and probably about
50, didn't say much but kept his presence known. He was just
frequently around, and more than once I caught him just looking
at me...not STARING like the psychotics, just an appreciative
glance. None of my coworkers knew him, and he wasn't ALWAYS
around, so I just put it down as nothing unusual. I had his
nametag checked out ("L. K. Kendricks"), and he was a rep from
some obscure manufactory back in the Ohio Valley, certainly no
one I'd know. And certainly no one I'd go out of my way to meet.
I did go to the dance. Some of my coworkers had to drag me
away from reworking (admittedly, for the THIRD time) the
preparations for the next day's activities, but I did go. I
thought I'd have a couple of drinks and chat it up with them.
Some had their husbands, and one or two had found someone at the
convention. What ended up is that we got a table near the rear
(like I said, it took a while to get me out, so we were late) and
before I knew it I was abandoned there. The girls talked for
only a few minutes, then dragging their guys out onto the floor
they had left me nursing a scotch. I was a little tired and the
scotch only accentuated it; before long I was thinking about
things long ago and far away.
The reverie was interrupted by this rich tenor "Good
evening." It was old LK, "Lawrence Knight" it turns out to be,
another Larry. Deja vu I was not prepared to deal with tonight,
but I couldn't just give a cold brush off to a kindly
introduction. I got permission to call him "LK"--he winced when
he said OK, but I couldn't stand the idea of "Larry II." He
wasn't merely a sales rep; he was in engineering and there was
some new process here he was checking out; he had done his job,
in fact, and was leaving next noon though our "show" had another
three days to run. He was efficient and professional. More
importantly, though, he was generous, getting me to talk and,
soon, even laugh. I switched from scotch to Calistoga and before
long we, too, were on the dance floor.
LK was a good dancer but didn't make me feel like the klutz
I know I am. When we were dancing apart he'd flash this smile
that was becoming quite charming, and when we were dancing close
he kept me smiling with a few bon mots. I was soon laughing as
he'd point out someone on the floor and give a complete
description, based entirely on their appearance, as to where they
lived, what they were here for (professionally AND otherwise),
and what they were like at home. It was hilarious: he'd start
talking about another person, then spin me around so I could see
over his shoulder while from memory alone he spun this incredible
web of fact and fantasy that fit like a wet T-shirt. And he
moved so gracefully, I could feel through his jacket he was fit
without being rough; he was certainly easy going enough.
When we took a break I got these sly, "I told you so"
glances from my friends. What could I say, they had me! When I
explained it to LK, he sort of smiled, and said he'd come to the
dance just to see if he could meet me, and I did feel flattered.
When we were back on the floor, I told him I had to be back
reviewing preparations early the next morning. It wasn't late,
but I was really enjoying this and I'd let it GET late if I
didn't extract soon. LK sort of frowned, but let it go at that.
He said he could tell I was tense and tired, more relaxed than an
hour ago, but still tense and tired. Well, thanks a lot, guy
(but it was all true)! He'd say goodnight, then. By the way,
though, would I have a break tomorrow morning and could I come by
his room before he left? 1402? Well, I'd see. With a small
kiss on his cheek I grabbed my purse and left.
But back in the room the bed (a HUGE king size number--god,
what was the hotel expecting, a menage a quatorze?) looked
particularly lonely. Sure, Larry would have been great, but
Larry was not here and Larry was--well, not permanent. Maybe,
though, his robe would make me feel better--no, in fact the smell
just made it worse. Calistoga or not, two scotches (were they
doubles?) had gone to my head and I was alone, lonely, and
getting horny (it had, after all, been three days!). I rang
1402, then hung up when LK answered; he was there. And he was
leaving tomorrow; this, too, would not be permanent.
I put on the robe and not much else, put in a diaphragm, and
went for a massage. I figured there had to be a great masseuse
in 1402. When he answered the door LK was still dressed, though
out of his jacket. He'd been sorting through his briefcase, and
I could see that my arrival was an unexpected brightener for his
evening. As I asked if the masseuse was still in I saw his eyes
glance down to my chest and it didn't take long to get an
affirmative answer.
First, though, he showed me around--probably just to
convince me there was no one else there, and that there had been
no one else. Not that I cared, for he'd made his availability
very clear. I handed him a bottle of baby oil (all I could find-
-I really hadn't been expecting a need for the scented stuff).
Larry--no, LK--took me to the bed and helped me out of the robe.
He didn't grab for my tits right away, a little touch of class
there, and had me lie on my stomach. He sat beside me and slowly
opened the bottle as he talked about how my work reflected my
self-confidence and how he really disliked mousey women. Then he
stopped, rolling up his sleeves as sort of an afterthought; it
took me a moment to realize the pause was just him caring for his
clothes. He began to rub the baby oil over my back while talking
about how good my back looked. The man was class all the way--he
dressed well, he talked well, he kept after himself, and he made
me feel really appreciated. Just what the doctor ordered.
He finished my back (a few tough spots he worked out so
gently I hardly knew they'd ever been there!) and started down my
arms, stretched out over my head. I opened my eyes and saw him
really throwing his body into it. A little music? Sure, and he
found a soft jazz station. When he came back I lifted my arm up
and rolled over just enough to pull off his bow tie (NOT a clip-
on job!) and undo the studs on his tux shirt. Then I just fell
back onto the bed and let him finish my arms.
I told him my butt was special--I'm really aroused by
contact there and I wanted him to take some care. As I helped
him slip the panties off, he said not to worry. The man was at
once gentle and generous with his attention. By the time he'd
finished and started down my thighs I was really squirming. I
wouldn't even let him finish my calves, I was really ready for
him.
I rolled over and reached up to his shirt, pulling it
quickly off. I sat up and reached for his trousers, startling
him with my speed. He slid his shoes off as I undid the
fasteners and with the suspenders down they just dropped to the
floor. I laughed when I saw the polka-dot boxers, but
everybody's got a quirk, somewhere! When he figured out what was
so funny he joined in; at least I'd had the smarts not to laugh
and point!
He climbed on the bed and we took each other in our arms.
First a tentative kiss and then a longer, deeper, exploratory
one. I put my leg over his, and felt the hair on his leg awaken
every nerve on the inside of my thigh. His hands moved from my
back to my side to my boobs, and then his mouth went from my lips
to my throat to my nipples. I lay back and felt this almost
primal suction bring me to full alertness. His lips and tongue
worked my nipples, and his hands worked my breasts. My mouth was
open and I was gasping, already.
Then, soon, too soon (don't stop!) he was continuing down.
His tongue explored my navel and that made my legs start sliding
up and down on the bed. His hand came up between my legs and
cupped my mound, gently, then squeezing firmly, and then a finger
started exploring. His mouth was kissing my entire abdomen and
soon his middle finger was sliding up deep inside me. He brought
his mouth down and his tongue played my clit for a while, then
replaced his finger. God, such a tongue!
I had to return the favor. I pulled him up and then rolled
him over onto his back. I slid one hand underneath his waistband
and found what I'd been looking for and then with the other just
pulled the waistband down. It was gorgeous--erect, waving in the
air, all pink and throbbing. I kissed the tip, then the shaft.
I licked the shaft and massaged the tip. It was getting wet on
its own and I had my first taste of this man's love juices,
something I always find hard to resist. I took him into my mouth
and started sucking and massaging, my lips running up and down
his length as I took him all the way back in my throat. My head
was bobbing up and down, my breasts were brushing his thighs, one
hand had his balls and the other was rubbing his chest. It was a
one-man band and he was making great music!
He had me stop and I couldn't figure why--I was really
getting going. Then I understood, as he turned around and put
his head between my legs. Again, this fantastic tongue worked
all over my mound, inside and out. I had him almost swallowed
and was feeling great. We must have gone on that way for twenty
or thirty minutes, and I remember coming at least three times.
But he stayed with me--I'd never had a guy stay up after so
much stimulation. Is this what you get with older men? His
attention to me told me he was still part of my team, so I guess
this was just a virtue of experience. But after three orgasms I
really wanted him inside and we'd find out just what he was
really made of. I let go and turned around--now both of us had
our feet at the head of the bed.
I took him in the traditional method, as his weight fell
right on me and he'd probably be able to pump just that much
better. I was right, for he slid right in and began a rhythm
that had me coming again and again almost immediately. Soon, his
face screwed up and his breathing changed and suddenly he was
spurting these fabulous warm gobs all the way up through me. I
was writhing and must then have passed out, between the pleasure
and the scotch. I've NEVER done that before!
I wasn't out long, because the next thing I knew he was
slowly pulling out. Ohhhhhhhhhh. His smile was right next to
mine and with a last kiss I just rolled into him and went to
sleep. I vaguely remember him turning me around on the bed and
his pulling the covers up and over us, and I clearly remember
getting my leg and arm over him, but until he woke me gently at
6:00 (god, I could have slept till 9:00, and missed everything!
what a wonderful guy) I don't remember a thing.
We had a little quickie and then I stumbled off to my room.
God, I could hardly walk! First Larry I and now Larry II. There
has to be something in that name!
<<<<>>>>
Even though we'd stopped going out a year ago, I was still
curious about Norman. He'd always been intriguing, he'd always
made me laugh and smile, and I remember his being dynamite in
bed. But he'd gotten serious about another girl (god, don't you
hate to compete with 18-year olds? and I'm not sure she was even
18) and without much ado I'd just made myself scarce. No big
scene a year ago, but I wasn't going to be merely an irregular
Thursday-night diversion for him!
But then just last week someone had mentioned him in
passing, in the single mode. It wasn't "Norman and Chris," but
merely "Norman." So I called, and knew as soon as he answered
I'd got myself wrapped up again. I loved just hearing his voice.
He was delighted, even over the phone he made me smile, and we
eagerly set a date for a movie Friday evening. I would come over
to his place, and I knew there was already a good chance I
wouldn't leave until Saturday or even Sunday.
When I arrived I presented him with a bottle of wine and a
very sensual kiss. I'd dressed in tight jeans and a thin crepe
blouse, and I could feel his hands warmly embrace me right
through the fabric. We decided to start the wine--so it could
breathe for later, of course--before leaving for the theater. I
stood right next to him as he maneuvered the cork out, so he'd
catch the perfume I'd worn for him; I know I was close enough to
feel the warmth of his body without even touching him. We
toasted our good fortune and then left hand-in-hand; during the
drive over I kept my hand on his leg and he was most terribly
distracted. You give men just the hint of sex and they go to
pieces on you!
In the theater I pulled his hand over to my leg as soon as
the lights dimmed. I held it down firmly as he massaged my thigh
and then slid up to cup my mound. He gently rubbed me so that I
could tell he hadn't forgotten a thing. My legs were spread wide
apart and I held his wrist in close to me. Pretty soon my breath
was getting shorter and shorter and I had to make him stop. My
sigh of relief was almost audible, for I was about to come right
there!
Then it was my turn. I reached down between his legs and
grabbed his balls. I could slide my hand up his shaft and back
down again, and even through the heavy fabric of his jeans could
feel him thick and throbbing. I kept that up for a half hour or
so, and had to quit when my arm was so tired from the contorted
position that my only other choice would have been to drop down
on my knees between his legs; it was a hard (!) choice, but the
theater was too crowded to do something obvious like that.
So I squeezed his thigh, let go, and sat back in the chair,
resting while trying to catch up on the plot I'd been ignoring.
He put his arm around my shoulder just as the movie began to
shift to the romantic part of the adventure. Inspiration to
Norman! He let his hand drop down my front and squeezed my
breast. I had only a slender, thin bra on beneath the crepe so
that I could feel every one of his fingers caress me, and in a
very few moments my nipples were quite erect. He reached over
and undid a button on my blouse and slipped his hand inside. I
was so hot I was surprised there wasn't steam coming out, and the
warmth of his hand just reflected right back onto my chest.
Audacious as ever, Norman then proceeded not merely to cup my
breast, but there in the theater to slide his hand beneath the
bra cup and directly stimulate my nipple. I was about to come
right there, once again! The sexual tension was so high I had to
grab the armrests to keep from jumping him there in the seat!
Thankfully, the movie soon ended and we emerged into some
surprisingly cold night air. Well, the whole world was cold
compared to us! We went to get a bite to eat, where he and I
played a marvelous game of footsie. The wine didn't at all
measure up, though, so we rushed home to where we had something
worth our attention(!).
Norman lit a fire while I freshened up (and put in a
diaphragm!). When I returned to the living room he had two
glasses, the wine and some pillows all arranged in front of the
fireplace. I bent over and kissed him as he handed me a glass,
and rubbed his chest. He grabbed my calf in reply while I sipped
the wine. What a smooth, sensual bouquet! A good beginning to
this part of the evening, for sure!
Then we stretched out before the fire and kissed. Gently at
first, our lips just sort of nibbling on each other. Then we
drew each other closer and really explored mouths. He put his
glass down and began again on my blouse's buttons, and I likewise
started in on his shirt. I soon was rubbing my hands all over
his hairy chest, kissing his neck and tonguing his ears, and he
was fumbling with the front closure of my bra. Once he had it
open I rolled him onto his back, pushed his hands away from my
tits and rubbed my chest directly over his. I was so horny now!
With his arms pinned to the floor I wrapped my legs around his
waist and squeezed there, then ground my pelvis against his. He
closed his eyes and just took it like a man!
When I let his hands go they went for my butt and began to
massage it firmly, exploring all of it from my waist to the tops
of my thighs, and as he held me down I could feel him growing and
throbbing beneath his zipper. I lifted up and began to pull his
zipper down, soon exposing his shorts and then opening his pants
all the way so I could reach inside. What a find!
He was moist, and warm, and full of fun there! I soon moved
my mouth's attentions there and took him fully between my lips.
He was tasty, too. I started sucking, kissing, and squeezing
him, all the while my hand cupping and massaging his balls. In a
very short while his hips were moving up and down in rhythm with
my mouth and I knew he wouldn't be long in coming. When the
spurts came I was swallowing it all and kept sucking even after
he had collapsed.
After a brief recovery, he pulled me up to face him. I
first maneuvered his pants the rest of the way off, and then he
began to work on my belt. He had this great smile on his face
that made me let him do to me whatever he wanted! Soon, my jeans
joined his in a pile and his face was down between my legs, his
hands on my breasts. His tongue explored all the crevices and
folds of my labia and soon I was rubbing my mound up and down his
face, getting him thoroughly wet. In a last spasm I collapsed in
a series of yells and was twitching on the floor, like an
epileptic, until I just fell asleep.
I think he did too, because the next thing I remember is his
gently shaking me, murmuring with half-closed eyes. Whatever he
said, it had something to do with going to bed and I was all too
ready. Somehow, with unsteady legs, I managed to stand up and we
both sort of wobbled down the hallway, leaning on each other. We
didn't get out of bed for thirty-six hours, though we must have
slept no more than five. For that night and the next full day
the only sunlight we saw was what came in through the curtains
blowing at the open windows. Well, Norman did get up to get the
champagne and bagels we had for breakfast, and I did have to pay
attention to the contraceptive supply. We would doze and awake
only to make love. Then we'd decide we were too musky (an
oxymoron?) and go take a shower, where I'd climb up on him in the
hot stream and we'd screw away, my legs around his waist and my
arms around his neck as as I pumped away and he swayed in the hot
water. Then we'd towel each other off and climb back into bed
where he'd eat me again. I wholly lost track of how many times I
came, well over a hundred. I was at once exhausted and
exhilarated. After I went home, Sunday was shot, of course, but
I was exhausted for good causes: I think I'm now bowlegged for
life, and I think Norman has sworn off inexperienced girls!
<<<<>>>>
Larry found out about Norman. Well, yes, I told him, but
only after he really got insistent about why I didn't answer my
phone all that weekend (come to think of it, Norman had unplugged
his phone, too...). He was real upset, not that I'd promised him
fidelity but certainly I could understand where his hurt
expectations had come from. So I invited him over for dinner and
a talk, and perhaps a pityfuck.
I selected a satin slipdress--you know, tailored, spaghetti
straps, trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too far into
the cleavage. I picked up some fresh fish and vegies and put on
a really nice table and candlelight, but he wasn't interested.
Poor guy was really hurting, I could see it in his face. After
all we had together, etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell
he just never believed that the whole situation was merely a day-
to-day thing. Funny how guys never complain about who you've
seen before, but they really get hurt when you see someone later!
When I explained that I hadn't really given him up, just allowed
someone else in, he seemed to brighten a bit and his appetite
began to come back.
So I poured us a little more wine and let him talk. His
work had been going better, and he'd wanted to share it with me,
and here I'd gone off for a weekend with a year-old reject.
Again, I patiently explained how there'd been no long term
promises, just mutual enjoyment. We finished desert, I poured
some brandy, and we retired to the living room sofa. He was much
more relaxed, and actually began to ask after me (other than
regarding Norman, of course). I sketched out current
projects...nothing he didn't already know about, but they seemed
to amuse him. But conversation about him was really short: How
was work? Ok. What about his spare time? Nothing special. Was
he going out with anyone else? No, of course not. Did he have
any trips planned? No, now that I wouldn't go along, he'd
stopped fantasizing about them. Well, where had he wanted us to
go? Now he brightened and began to recite a series of rather
detailed itineraries he'd thought through. A bit TOO detailed,
in that EVERYthing was planned, but surely they were all very
romantic ideas for weekends or longer. When I said I'd go along
as things permitted he began to get excited again.
He brought out some pictures he'd clipped, and I moved over
next to him to see them. He did have a great imagination, and
his enthusiasm was now really showing. When I reached over to
point out something in his books, I didn't mind at all letting my
hand linger in his lap. He didn't grab for me right away, but
did shift over to be right next to me.
I poured a little more brandy and the evening drew on. We
began to plan a trip, selecting a long weekend and picking daily
destinations. Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put
his arm around me. I could feel him checking for the (non-
existent) bra strap and panty line. Just as we finished I got up
to get more brandy, and when I came back I sat with my back
against the far armrest of the couch and beckoned to Larry. He
scooted over and put his arm across my waist. I sipped my
brandy, gave him his, and asked him if he wanted to stay the
night. I swear he almost dropped his snifter, and then he
smiled; he leaned over and kissed me, and I put an arm around his
shoulders.
When he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his, holding
one hand in his lap while I reached over to put his snifter
aside. I had to really stretch my arm and chest to reach, and
I'm sure he stared closely at the swelling beneath the slip's
bodice. When I turned back I reached up to pull him down and he
pivoted his legs onto the sofa as he lounged beside me.
He still seemed so unsure, though. I stroked his head, and
kissed his lips, but he was hesitant. I took his hand from my
waist and moved it up to my breast, where I held it tight. His
hand, massive as always, was as warm and gentle as before. As he
kissed my neck I pulled my head back and just enjoyed all the
sensations. He soon had his hand inside the dress and then he
slipped the straps off my shoulders. He was getting the idea!
Time to find a little bare skin on this guy, too!
I rolled sideways, so he could get onto the sofa better,
then began working on his buttons, literal and figurative. I
would undo a few then reach down between his legs for a good grab
as I kissed him deeply. Soon, his shirt was off and his pants
were open. It wasn't long before his hand was off my breast and
was sliding up my leg under the dress. I lifted my hips and he
just pulled it off over my head as I sat up. We then went to
work on the rest of his clothes and when they were off I took him
to the bedroom.
The sheets were cold but we had them warm soon enough.
There was a lot of exploring we did, sliding our legs over each
other, tongues in ears, nibbles on necks, fingers on genitals. I
took him on my side, and I could see him sigh as he slid into me.
Right away there wasn't the usual vigorous pumping, just sort of
a slow and gentle massage of all my innards. I ran my hands over
his chest, behind me to grab his balls, back up through his hair,
and all the time there was this gentle warmth suffusing through
me. I was tightening down but not yet near explosion.
Then he rolled me over onto my back and began to pump more
quickly. He put his legs outside mine and the pressures changed.
Next, he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I began
to really pump back. When he came it wasn't for long but it was
powerful, almost like a firehose deep inside. I shivered, then
shuddered, and then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming orgasm
that left me breathless.
With the exhaustion that brought, and the brandy, I soon
fell asleep. Larry was there, gently again in the morning, and
we repeated the performance until the sun was at zenith. He left
a little more confident of himself and I lingered in bed, assured
the attentions of two wonderful men. Can life be sweeter?
<<<<>>>>
While Euclid found that a triangle was one of the most
stable geometric structures, it certainly isn't in human affairs.
Well, I knew that going into one, but the pleasures of the flesh
are too great for a mere mortal such as myself. I knew that I
couldn't keep both Larry and Norman.
They are both great, and in different ways. Norman is pure,
sizzling, unadulterated breathtaking sex; I can't take him
anywhere except my bedroom, but why would I want to? We don't
talk much, but we communicate nonetheless, orally and otherwise.
Larry is unsure of himself, and as a rough tradesman not someone
my father would immediately like (well, they met at a barbecue
one weekend, and it took a while for even some conversation to
take place, but at least he wasn't thrown out), but he's gentle
and generous and we have great verbal communication. Larry is
really possessive, a problem even in a monogamous relationship,
and Norman doesn't care so long as he doesn't get AIDS.
When I raped Larry in the bathtub the other afternoon,
though, and he came back for more as soon as he was toweled off,
I had a sense that things were going to change. He had never
shown that much self-confidence, and all of a sudden he was less
a toy and more a real man to deal with. Uh-oh...I wasn't going
to be able to hold on to all of this.
I guess Norman felt it, too, because the next night, after a
slow start he got really frenzied, pumping away in me almost
frantically for an hour before we both collapsed in a pile of
musky sheets and slippery bodies. God, he was like candy...you
just can't give up that kind of attention!
Then, the next weekend, Larry took me out for dinner and
dancing. He was well dressed, he found a fabulous restaurant, we
danced and swirled around the dance floor until the place closed,
and then we went home and literally fucked until the sun rose.
He ate me until I was thrashing all over the bed, then he'd slide
right in and excite me some more. After he'd come, I used my
lips to get him excited again and we went at it all over. I had
hickeys on my neck, my breasts, my thighs and my butt, and the
windows were well steamed in the morning. I had to take a nap
for the better part of Saturday just to recover. I thought I'd
sent Larry home, but when I awoke about 4:00 he was peeking into
the bedroom with some fresh coffee, and almost before I finished
that we were at it again. You've got to understand what a
gorgeous man Larry is, and just how the contrast between his
coarse exterior and his caring behavior is so exciting: I really
can't keep my hands off him. He even looks better in the robe he
gave me than I do! And I just love sliding my hand up inside
that robe because I find such a wonderful cock to play with!
Then he took me out to dinner again and all he did was play with
his food while his hand was playing between my legs. He kept
calling me "the most exciting person he'd met," and I had to lie
about Norman to return the compliment. Which of these guys do I
keep around?
I HAD to get Larry out by Sunday morning, because Norman was
due Sunday afternoon. We went out for a hillside picnic, and
after the wine was gone the local eagles had a terrific view of
human anatomy until the sun went down. He didn't say anything
about the hickeys, but he must have seen them! Then we sort of
curled up in the blanket and dozed on the hillside until we
awoke, shivering, about midnight. I gave him a hand job on the
drive back to my place, but insisted he leave so I could rest for
Monday's work. I was reaching a point where I couldn't keep up
the pace of keeping two guys up.
--
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