3 comments/ 64986 views/ 1 favorites Back to School Night By: drlust Chaos reigned in every direction. Elementary school children of all ages surged up and down the halls, shouting to one another and to their parents, "Hi Scotty!" "C'mon Mom, hurry up!" "Here's my room, let's go in!" Harried parents, filled with a mixture of excitement and sensory overload, did their best to pretend they were in control of their kids. And I was right there with them, holding tight to the hand of my four-year-old as I watched my six-year-old's head bob and weave through the crowd on his way to his classroom. I hadn't been to an event like this in the more than nine months since Sarah died. Sure, I'd been to the school for various conferences with my son's teachers, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to attend any of the community events like this Fall Festival. Mostly I just couldn't bear all the sympathetic smiles, the whispers, the well meaning expressions of sorrow: "How are you holding up, Tom?" "We all miss her." "Let me know if there's anything I can do." It was all just too hard to bear. Plus, it just pissed me off that their good intentions forced me to stifle my own feelings just so I could put up a brave front. But this was a new school year and I'd sworn it would be a new start for me and my boys. So here I was, being a dad again, threading my way through the chaos. I had to admit it felt really good to be back doing something normal again. In my son's classroom, all the kids and their parents were gathered around, eagerly checking out cubbys, reading charts and math workbooks. As I looked around me, I saw lots of familiar faces—parents I knew from last year or from the neighborhood. Being surrounded by all this happiness was a good thing. Good for me, good for the boys. During the next half our or so, several of the mothers and fathers stopped by to shake my hand, hug me and the boys, or just pat me on the back to let me know there were glad to see me again. Most of the ones I knew were still just "Bobby's mom" or "Alison's dad," but a few of them I knew better and was glad to see. Then it was time to join in the madness out in the halls—games, treats, inflatable bouncing rooms, face painting, even a cake walk. We dodged our way from one room to another, sampling all the fun. I was so focused on the boys and how much they were enjoying themselves, I only thought about Sarah a couple of times and the pangs were not nearly as bad as I had expected them to be. Finally, we ended up in the big room with the cake walk. A mixed crowd of kids and a few adults were pacing methodically around the room, stepping on numbers and waiting for the music to stop. Arranged around the outside walls were knots of parents, chit-chatting and halfway watching what was going on in the middle of the room. As I scanned the room I saw that directly across from me was Marissa, Justin's mom. During the terrible first weeks after Sarah's death she'd been a huge help to me. More than once she'd taken the boys for a play date. Sometimes she would stop by in the late afternoon with a casserole or a pan of lasagna, and at my oldest's birthday party, she took charge when I started to lose it in the face of twelve happily screaming six year olds. I'd thanked her profusely, of course, and at the end of the school year I sent her a big bouquet of flowers with a heartfelt thank you letter. You learn a lot about people from the way they cope with death—most try to avoid you because it reminds them of their own mortality, but a few, like Marissa, move closer and share themselves during your time of greatest need. When the summer began I kind of lost track of her—each family went its own way for vacations, summer camps and the like—so it was nice to see her again. As usual, she was looking incredibly good. I had her pegged for about 10 years younger than me, meaning 33 or 34, although she had the body of someone much younger. She was tall—almost six feet in the boots she was wearing tonight—and slender, hair dirty blonde (although these days clearly dyed that way), and she still had the remnant of a tan from summer. In addition to the boots, she was wearing black slacks that clung to her ass in a very nice way and an ice-blue satin blouse that was unbuttoned one more button than would have been modest. In her case, though, her breasts were very small—surprisingly so for a woman as tall as she was—and so there wasn't any cleavage bursting out to shock the other moms and excite the dads. Still, the dark area where the folds of her blouse overlapped held my gaze. Suddenly I realized I was staring and pulled my eyes up to her face. Shit! She was looking right at me. Immediately I felt myself beginning to redden and I smiled weakly. Instead of scowling, she broke into a wide smile, waved across the cake walkers and mouthed—"Stay a minute," holding up one finger. I nodded, acutely aware that I'd been busted and that I had been staring at a woman with interest for the first time in, well, months and months. In fact, it was one of the first times I could remember doing that since everything fell apart so suddenly back in February. Marissa wrapped up whatever it was she was saying to the two moms she was standing with, then bent over a desk to write something on a piece of paper. As she did, I couldn't help notice how nicely her slacks stretched across her butt cheeks. Clearly she was going to the gym, running, or something. Whatever it was, I approved. Neither her two kids nor mine were having any luck in the cake walk. As they paced solemnly around the room, Marissa slipped through the crowd toward me. When she reached me she smiled again—God she had beautiful teeth—and gave me a big hug, pressing her chest against mine. The feel of her small and firm breasts against my chest caused a brief stirring in my pants. Fortunately, she broke the embrace quickly, or I'd have had to adjust myself. "Tom. It is so good to see you again. The boys have grown about a foot since I saw them in June!" Her voice had a kind of a purr to it that always made it seem like she had spent the night before shouting or singing really loud, leaving her vocal chords just a bit ragged out. "Yours do too," I retorted. "The summer was clearly good for us all. You look wonderful too." "Thanks Tom. I noticed you noticing." At this I could feel the color rising in my neck again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be stare." "Hey, no problem. I take it as a compliment," she said. "When a girl reaches a certain age, it's nice to know the guys are still staring once in a while." And then she laughed, breaking what might have become sexual tension. We were, after all, in a room full of second and third graders, not to mention their moms and dads. I had to laugh too, in part with relief that she wasn't pissed. Then she said something that completely shocked me. "Tom, how'd you like to come to dinner at my place this weekend?" I was sure then entire room full of people had stopped what they were doing just to hear my answer. I looked around to see if they were staring at me. Instead, they were staring at the cake walkers, who were lifting their feet to see if they were on the winning number. A little girl in a purple dress jumped up and started shouting "Me! Me! Me!" We all applauded. I motioned to my boys to keep going, don't give up. "Well? Can you Tom?" I turned back to Marissa and without thinking it through carefully said, "Uh, sure, I guess. I'll have to see if my folks can take the kids or maybe I can get a babysitter." "Great. My ex is taking the kids for the weekend, so the house is all mine for a couple of days. Here are the directions and my home phone. Why don't you plan to come by on Friday around 7:00?" "O.K. Sure. Great. Thanks." Now I was starting to sound like a dolt, so I stopped talking. She reached over, took my right hand and gave it a squeeze, and then twirled away, moving in the direction of another mom who had just come in with her daughter. I folded up the paper she'd handed me, shoved it in my pocket, and concentrated on willing one of my kids to win a cake. Later that night, after I'd gotten the boys to bed, I poured myself a beer and sat down in the living room to sort out what had happened. I'd been asked out on a date. And not just out, but to the home of a very beautiful woman at least ten years my junior. I hadn't been on a date in more than 20 years. Sarah and I had been married almost 19 years when she died and had dated for a while before that. I took a big gulp of my beer to fortify myself, then dug out the piece of paper with Marissa's address on it. On one side were the directions to her house. On the other, there was something else written. When I turned the paper over, I read "I want to suck your cock all the way down my throat." Holy shit! I re-read the words written there at least four times just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Yep. That's what it said alright. And my cock was still clearly in working order, because by about the third re-reading, it was straining against my jeans, letting me know it at least thought this was a very good idea. The next four days were a blur. I convinced my folks to take the boys for a sleepover so I wouldn't have to come home that night. I know I managed to teach my classes and I think I did some other work, but I couldn't be sure of that. Mostly I was day-dreaming about Marissa, her tight ass in those slacks and the way the blue satin blouse rested on her chest. And, of course, her very sexy mouth. When I pulled up to her front door at 7:10 on Friday, I was shaking from a mixture of intense sexual energy and powerful guilt. Since Sarah died I had not had sex with anyone but myself. There was no doubt what was going to happen when I walked into Marissa's house and half of me (okay, more than half) couldn't wait, but another big part of me felt that I was somehow betraying Sarah. After all, she and Marissa had been exercise buddies, had shopped together, and Sarah had helped Marissa a lot during the first months after Marissa's divorce. They were friends and now I was going to sleep with my dead wife's friend. Hands sweaty, I sat in the driveway and stared at the front door, willing myself to get out of the car and willing myself to drive away quickly, before it was too late. Marissa saved me from having to decide, because she opened the door and waved. No bolting now. I grabbed the bottle of wine I'd agonized over—Champagne? White? Red? Expensive? Cheap?—and waved what I hoped was a jaunty wave. God what a dork! She looked just a luscious as ever. Casual tonight, in a black designer t-shirt and jeans, barefoot. Smiling broadly, she waved me in with a sweep of her arm and there I was. Committed. "Vino. Thanks. Is it any good?" Then she laughed that laugh again. Throaty, full of mirth. "I hope so. If it's not, I'll have to go back and punch out the guy who convinced me it was just right for such an occasion." "Occasion? And what, pray tell, did you tell him the occasion was," she asked. "My first date in 20 years," I said. This time I was the one who laughed, because I was happy to be here, happy to be having fun, happy knowing I wasn't going home at the end of the evening. "Well, if that doesn't put pressure on a girl, nothing will. Come on. The appetizers are ready." Pointing toward the living room, she said, "This isn't as cold as it should be, so I'll go stick it in the fridge. In the meantime, what would you like? Beer, wine, martini?" "I'll have a beer, thanks." "Be right back. Eat something while you're waiting." And with that she was gone. I could hear her clinking around in the kitchen, so I busied myself checking out her living room. In a lot of ways, it was just like mine. A mixture of photos of the kids interspersed with seemingly random works of art, furniture that was vaguely Mission, and a box of toys shoved behind an arm chair. Candles were lit on the mantle and on the coffee table, and a nice variety of appetizers awaited me. Realizing I'd better get some food in my stomach, I set to it with gusto, sampling each while I waited for my beer. Hearing her feet in the hall, I looked up to see her glide in with two cold Heinekens. "I didn't bring glasses, Tom. Do you want one?" "No. Straight up is great for me. Cheers." I reached my bottle toward hers and we clinked them together, eyes locked. "It's great to have you here Tom. Thanks for coming." "Are you kidding? It's great for me to be here Marissa. Plus, how could I refuse an invitation like that?" "Well, I knew you'd be feeling guilty about doing this," she smiled again. "So I wanted to give you a little extra incentive." I could feel my cock stirring already. "At first I was worried you'd think I was a total slut or worse, but when you called to say you'd gotten a sitter, I knew it would be okay. Who is your sitter these days anyway?" This time it was my turn to smile. "The boys are having a sleepover at their grandparents' tonight." "Ahhhh," she said. "Well, in that case, there's no hurry then, now is there?" "No, no hurry." Although my cock was saying exactly the opposite. It was in a big, big hurry. Marissa took a big slug off her beer and turned back toward the kitchen and as she tilted the bottle back, I stared hungrily at her breasts, no longer worried who might see. My careful inspection seemed to indicate no bra…yet another reason to be happy to be here. "I've got just a couple of things left to do in the kitchen. Why don't you put on some music and I'll call you in a few minutes." As she moved away from me I stared at her ass again—without caring whether she caught me or not. What a view, what a view. Her musical tastes ran more in the direction of Nashville than mine, but I found some Lyle Lovett and put that on. As his crooner's voice filled the room, I heard her calling me from the dining room. "Ready when you are, Tom." I was ready all right. Ready to burst out of my pants. The dinner was seafood, so my white wine went well with what she'd made. I think it was good, but I can't remember much more than that it was seafood. Mostly I remember her face, her smile, her laugh, and my growing desire to jump across the table, rip her clothes off and devour her. I knew she knew what was on my mind and was just drawing it out, making me wait. And I knew that the waiting was just making it better. Just don't ask me what we talked about. I have no earthly idea. When the last of the dinner had vanished, Marissa stood and said, "So, would you like the whole house tour?" "Absolutely" was the best I could come up with. Dork, dork, dork! "You've seen the downstairs already and the basement is just full of the kids' toys, so I'll show you the upstairs. Come on." Reaching out, she took my hand and pulled me gently but insistently toward the stairs. As I followed her up, my face was about six inches from her ass and it was all I could do to not bury my face between her cheeks. "These are the kids' rooms. The extra bathroom, the attic stairs, and this is my room…" She flung open the door and there was a king-sized bed with the sheets pulled back, a large candle burning on either side. "Tom, I've…" I didn't let her say whatever it was she wanted to say just then. Instead, I gathered her into my arms and pressed my lips hungrily onto hers. Immediately our tongues were dancing around each other, lashing back and forth. A moan came from somewhere down between us. I couldn't tell if it was me or her. Her hands were in my hair, pulling my face down hard so she could kiss me and my hands were sliding down her back toward her ass. As they reached her cheeks, I pressed her into me so she could feel just how hard I was, how ready. She responded by rotating herself against me, grinding, letting me know she was just as ready for me. We kissed like that for probably five minutes, me feeling drunk with the taste of her, the smell of her, my desire for her. Then she broke the clench and said "Wait." Breathing hard, I took a half step back. Her nipples were straining against the fabric of her t-shirt. "Come with me, Tom." Again she took me by the hand and I stumbled along behind her. "In my note I told you what I wanted and since you came here tonight that means you are willing to let me have it. You are, aren't you?" Her already throaty voice had dropped almost a full register and I noticed her lipstick was smeared off her lips in places. "Yes" was the best I could do between pants. "Okay then, let me undress you." At this she started to unbutton my shirt, running her deep red nails along my skin as she undid each button. Tugging the shirt loose from my jeans she pulled it back and down, baring my chest. For just a second I wondered how she felt about all the gray in my chest hair. But then I was too aware of what was happening to my pants to worry about that. First my belt went flying to the floor and then Marissa pulled both pants and boxers down in one motion, making my cock flap upward as the waistband of my shorts snapped over it. She pushed me down onto my back on the bed and slipped off one shoe, then the other, then quickly tugged my pants off and tossed them somewhere. Naked now, I lifted my head to see what she was going to do next and was just in time to see her t-shirt come whipping over her shoulders, her breasts bouncing just a bit as they came free. I was mesmerized by how small they were. I couldn't remember ever being with a woman who had such small breasts. Marissa wasn't flat-chested by any means—it was just that on such a tall woman, her small breasts seemed even smaller than they really were. The nipples were long in comparison to the breasts themselves and the areoles were puckered up around them. "You like?" she asked. "God yes, they're incredible," I managed to moan. "I love them," she said and began twisting the nipples, stretching them away from her body in a way that made me want to do the same. I started to reach up for them but she shook her head. "No Tom. It's my turn first. You can have your turn later." Keeping one hand on her nipple, she dropped the other to her jeans and began to undo them. Once the zipper was down, she turned her back on me, and as she pulled her jeans down she bent over so that I was gazing at the white moon of her ass as they dropped to the floor. No undies either. This was almost more than I could bear. The head of my cock felt like a doorknob it was so hard and I knew that if she didn't start working on it soon, I would have to. Jeans off, she leaned over me, planting one hand on either side of me, and then my cock disappeared behind her hair as her head lowered toward me. The next thing I felt was her hot breath on my shaft. She was blowing on me. Her hair was tickling my belly something awful. And then her mouth engulfed the head of my cock. God! Her mouth felt like it was about 120 degrees and her tongue was swirling around and around in that way that I loved. I arched my hips to meet her and more of me went into her mouth. Slowly at first, she began to stroke up and down on my cock, never breaking the light suction she had begun with, moaning as she went. It was all I could do to not grab her head and start fucking her mouth. Instead, I put my hands behind my head and tried to focus on not coming instantly. All at once she let go and it was like a blast of cold air hit my cock. Without her mouth there, the temperature differential was extreme. "Tom, your cock is beautiful. So hard. So big. I could suck it all night." "I'm glad you like it." "I'll just bet you are, babe," she said. "Now, I'm going to get onto the bed so I can get a better angle on this thing. You can stroke my ass if you want, but I want you to leave my pussy alone for now. I need to concentrate." Back to School Night Ch. 02 This story is Part II of my story, Back to School Night. Be sure to read Part I first!] In the candle light, Marissa's long lean body looked so smooth, so inviting. I began by trailing the fingers of my left hand over as much of it as I could touch from where I lay. First I stroked her neck, then her ears, her shoulders, and then slowly circled each breast, working my way ever inward until my fingers trailed over her nipples. Before moving on, I twisted each one just a bit as I'd seen her do earlier, just to let her know I'd been paying attention. Finally, I began to work my fingers down toward he crotch, over her belly button and into her bush, or what bush she had. Another surprise awaited me there, because she had shaved all but a tiny patch above her lips. I was fascinated by the almost baldness of her pussy and kept stroking up one side of her little tuft of hair and then down the other, just barely brushing her outer lips the bottom of each stroke. "I see you like that look," she rumbled next to me, almost breathless now. "I like to keep it closely trimmed." "I do like the feel of closely trimmed," I sighed into her ear. Taking her left knee in my hand, I lifted it over onto my thighs, opening her up to my perusal. My fingers resumed their leisurely stroll over her body, now working back and forth on her inner thighs, again just barely brushing her outer lips as I passed them by. Each time I touched her there, a small moan would slip from her mouth. Putting my hand to my mouth, I wet my fingers let my saliva drip down onto the top of her lips, moistening just the outer surface. This earned me a bigger moan. I then began a careful strumming of my fingers on those first lips, careful not to penetrate more than the barest fraction of the way into her. At this, Marissa raised her hips just a bit, trying to force me into her. "No dear, sorry. I set the pace, just as you did earlier," I instructed. "Okay, okay, Tom. It just feels so good, I want more," she moaned. "Oh, you'll get more Marissa, don't you worry," I replied. Satisfied that she was ready, I began to probe for her clit with my middle finger. It wasn't hard to find, already standing at attention, looking for me. Rather than strumming on it as I had done with her outer lips, I tapped on it, ever so lightly. Just the barest tapping. After each fourth or fifth tap, I'd press down on it and rub for a few strokes, then resume my tapping. Given the sounds that were coming from her throat, the tapping was having the desired effect. "Twist your nipples for me some more Marissa. I want to watch you so I now just exactly what feels good," I whispered. "Okay babe, watch this then," she said. While my finger continued to work on her clit, she took each nipple between a thumb and index finger and began twisting it out away from her body. I was amazed at how far she stretched her small tits up from her chest. It was as if she was trying to make her nipples into miniature cocks. It was mesmerizing to watch, both because I'd never been with a woman with breasts as small as hers, but also because I'd never seen a woman treat her nipples that way. "Nice Marissa, very nice," I said. "Keep it up while I change positions here." "I thought you were never going to get the message that I wanted your face in my pussy Tom," she said, laughing now. "Oh, I got the message a while back," I said, "I was just enjoying myself too much to be in a hurry." "Fine," she moaned. "Whatever. Will you hurry a bit now?" "Lift your legs for me Marissa," I replied, "Show me your pussy." With that, I squirmed down to the foot of the bed as she reached under each knee and lifted it to her chest, exposing herself fully, showing me everything. God it was beautiful. Her outer lips were pouting now, fully engorged and purplish. Her clit was just visible, inviting me down. "Wonderful, wonderful," was my attempt at a smooth response to what I was looking at. I lowered my mouth to her pussy and began to tickle the outer lips with the tip of my tongue. As I did, she rolled further backward, pressing her knees more firmly to her chest and opening herself even wider. As I pressed my face down on her, I used the index finger of my right hand to begin to stroke back and forth across the very base of her opening, just above the perineum, where the juices were beginning to leak downward toward her ass. This got me a very strong moan, but not nearly as strong as the one that escaped her when my tongue found her clit at last. "Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck," she called out, louder now. "Tom, that is so good. Fuck me. Yes." Okay, I could tell this was going well. One part of me was given over to the passion of the moment, but the other was concentrating on doing a good job this first time with another woman in 20 years. I was concentrating hard on going slow, my tongue pressing down hard on her clit, rubbing it, then backing off and flicking rapidly five or six times, before pressing down hard and rubbing. I'd moved up to two fingers rubbing across the bottom of her opening now and was trying to rub there in time with my tongue. I could tell she wanted me to slip them into her, but I wasn't ready to do that just yet. "Fuck. Fuck! So good, so good," was all she could think of to say. Faster now, I rubbed a little harder with my tongue, flicked it a little faster, imagining that it was a fan blade spinning around and around. Now my fingers began to probe into her, pressing her open. As I did, I let me pinky slip down toward her well-moistened ass, where it began to tease at that opening as well. "Yes. Do that," Marissa groaned. "Just like that. I like that." She was panting now and rocking her hips upward into my face. With two fingers inside her and another circling her ass, a tongue on her clit, I was lost now in the lust of it all. Responding to her more insistent moans, I speeded up a bit more with my tongue and pressed my pinky against her opening, letting her know it was coming in. She responded by wiggling her ass to let me know it was okay. "Close. Close. Close," was coming from deep in her chest somewhere now. In the face of that, I set to fucking her in earnest with my face, my hand, my whole body. And as her thighs tensed on my head, clamping down on me, I shoved my fingers forcefully into her vagina, my pinky driving home into her asshole, and I went in and out, in and out, as each wave of her orgasm broke over me. My tongue was truly like a fan now, working on her clit as fast and as furiously as I was capable of doing. She was bucking against me, almost shouting now, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" When the final wave passed, she pushed my head away almost violently and said, "Tom, I want you in me. Are you hard?" "Let's see," I laughed. Throwing her knees across and over, I started lifting her hips to get her up onto her knees. Figuring out quickly where I was going with this, she was up on her knees, elbows on the bed, spread and ready for me. Grabbing a hip in either hand, I slid home, all the way to the hilt, pressing myself into her as far as I possibly could. "Yes. Oh yes," she called out from down around the pillows. "It feels so good to have you fuck me Tom. Now fuck me for real. Fuck me with that cock." Needless to say, this abandon on her part sent me over the edge. I began to slide in and out, pulling the head of my cock all the way out of her pussy, but not breaking contact, then sliding it home until my pubic bone was pressing hard against her ass cheeks. Her white ass floated below me in the candle light as I drove my cock home again and again. Below me I could feel her fingers working hard on her clit and the thought that she wanted to cum again so quickly drove me on. I loved the feeling of my cock's head popping out of her, resting in the air for split second, then being engulfed in the heat of her pussy again. God it was good. And I loved the way she was talking as we fucked. "Yes, your cock is so hard," she growled. "It's filling me up. Splitting me. It's huge. Oh yes babe, fuck me, fuck me." Before long I could tell she was close again, so I picked up the pace. I grabbed her ass cheeks now, using them as leverage as I pounded into her, loving the feel of those firm cheeks in my hands. "My tits Tom, my tits," she cried out. "Help me cum. You know what I want." That I did. I leaned over and grabbed a nipple in each hand and began to twist them away from her body as I'd seen her do twice already tonight. The instant I started this, she began to shake and buck against me, shouting again, "fuck me, yes fuck me, I'm cumming. Yes! Yes!" I was worried that I was treating them too roughly, but she clearly loved it, so I kept twisting as I kept up the pace of my pounding into her from behind. Suddenly her knees gave way and I collapsed on top of her, cock impaled deep inside her. This being my second time of the night, I wasn't close yet, so I kept up a slow, insistent stroke, just to let her know I wasn't done. After a minute or two of post-orgasmic panting, she said, "Tom, I've got something I think will solve your problem." "Hey, I don't think of it as a problem. I think of it as an opportunity," I said. This got a laugh out of her. "Babe, I don't think of it as a problem either…need would have been the better word, no? Climb off me for a sec." Reluctantly, I withdrew and rolled over, wondering what this woman had up her sleeve now. "I want you to pull your knees to your chest, just like mine were when you were eating me," she instructed. Reaching down, I pulled me knees up as I was told. Her hand came between my thighs, pulling my cock down and out between them. From between my knees I could see that she was back on her hands and knees, this time facing away from me. Then it was clear what she was doing. She was guiding my cock toward her pussy, but as she did so, she lifted her ass upwards and literally sat on my thighs, pressing them down into my chest, my calves on her back, using me kind of like a rocking chair, only one that has a hard cock in the seat. And that hard cock was now inside her. "Ah, now that is about as far in as it will go, don't you think," she asked? "I think so, Marissa, I think so," I gasped, stunned by how far inside her I'd gone. "Now babe, I'm going to fuck your cock. I want you to lie back and enjoy it…not that you've got much choice now." And she laughed a self-satisfied laugh. "Whatever you say Marissa, whatever you say," I replied. At first, she fucked me by rocking back and forth on my cock, making it rub around inside her, causing all kinds of wonderful sensations on the head as it rubbed against the inner walls of her pussy. At the same time, she was fondling my balls with one hand and teasing around my asshole with the other. "Yes, that's good," was my way of letting her know I liked it all. "You like having your ass teased Tom?" she asked. "Oh yes, I do" I tried not to sound too eager. After a few minutes of this, I felt lubrication on my ass and realized she'd taken some massage oil from the bedside stand. God this was good! Then with each rocking stroke on my cock, she pressed her index finger a bit harder against my opening. I relaxed a bit to let her in and before long she was fucking my ass with her finger in time with her rocking. In and out, opening me, probing me. Needless to say, this fucking of my ass was making my cock that much harder, my balls that much tighter. Suddenly the bottle of massage oil was floating over my face. "Take this Tom. I'd like the same treatment please," she asked. A quick study, I poured some of the oil into a little puddle on my chest and began to apply it to her ass as well. She lifted herself up just a bit to give me more access and within a minute, we were locked together. My finger was in her ass, my cock was in her pussy, her finger was in my ass. Each of us was concentrating on giving the other pleasure, our bodies completely entwined, me pinned to the bed by her long tall frame. I could have gone on like this forever, but all good things just seemed destined to get better on this night of lust. "Okay, I'm ready now," she said and without warning pulled out of my ass and let go of my balls. Her pussy began to slide slowly, agonizingly up my shaft until I could see the head of my cock beginning to appear from the folds of her lips. I was afraid she was going to get off and I really didn't want her to. Fortunately, she had no such intention, because without warning, she slammed herself down. Hard. Ramming me deep inside her. Then the slow, oh so slow progress back up my shaft, the briefest lingering with just the edge of my head exposed, and then—slam! Down again with force. Each time she threw her body down on me like that, Marissa shoved her finger deep into my ass, probing for my prostate. On the second or third try she found it and each time she did, she would give it a quick massage before pulling her finger back just as she was pulling herself back on my cock. Needless to say, this was starting to drive me insane! I began to grunt, not caring if I sounded like a wild animal or not and with my hands I held onto her thighs with all my strength—not directing her, just holding on for dear life. She was totally in control of me and I would do whatever she wanted at this moment. Just so long as she kept fucking me like this. The waves of pleasure that were radiating from my crotch were nothing short of incredible. "Fuck yes, Marissa. Fuck yes! Fuck me babe," I called out, oblivious of how loud I was being. "Please just keep fucking me! Make me cum in you. I can't stand much more. Please just fuck me." It was all I could do to talk dirty, much less make sense… With one last hard stroke, she pressed her finger hard against my prostate and suddenly I was shooting, my hips bouncing up off the bed, sending her up toward the ceiling, her finger pressed hard into me, my cock completely engulfed in her body. Wave after wave shot through me and one of my balls actually disappeared into my pelvic region as it was drained dry. Sensing I was done, she withdrew her finger from me and said, "I'm close again Tom. Don't move. I'll finish." I could feel her hands working hard in her crotch as my cock began to soften inside of her. And sure enough, in another minute or so, she was cumming again. Shouting. Moaning. Squirming on my by now only half hard cock. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" We were so imaginative in our speech! When it was over, she literally fell off me and onto the bed, my cock coming free from her with a little slurping sound not unlike a soda bottle opening. The sound made us both start laughing. I rolled forward so I could take her in my arms and we laughed and laughed, our feet on the pillows and our heads at the foot of the bed. Before long, we were both asleep. Back to School Night "Okay, sure, whatever you say Marissa." "Good boy." And with that she clambered up onto the bed next to me kneeling right next to my shoulders. Quickly she bent over and wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, standing it upright and stretching it very, very tight. Then she began sucking again, this time from the forward angle. Her ass floated just to the right of my face and so I began to stroke it, trailing a finger down her crack, but stopping short of her asshole, just as she'd asked. Didn't want to distract her. In this position, it wasn't long before I could feel my toes beginning to curl—a sure sign that my orgasom was not far off. She could feel it too, I think, because it was at this moment that she did something no woman had ever done to me. She slowly, but surely edged my entire length into her mouth and down her throat. When she reached the base of my shaft, the hand that had been holding me there came loose and grabbed my balls. Jesus, what a feeling. My entire cock was engulfed and she was vacuum sucking on it, forcing the blood from the base up into the head, which was somewhere down by her tonsils. Then slowly, languidly, she retreated, all the way to the head, but not so far that she let it pop out. And then back down again, all the way to the base, burying her nose in my pubic hair. Then up. Then down. Each stroke a little faster than the one before it. Just the thought of what was happening to my cock would have been too much for me, but that combined with the intensity of her sucking made my balls tighten. As they did, she began to moan as she stroked up and down on my shaft and in a sudden burst I shoved my hips upward into her face, jets of cum spurting from my cock and down her throat. She grabbed my ass and pushed me even farther in, moaning loudly on my shaft. Bucking against her, I shot again and again, I have no idea how many times. Then I was spent. I fell back to the bed, collapsing. Without warning, tears welled up in my eyes and before I could even really think about it, I began to cry. Long, loud sobs, my whole body shaking. Marissa let go of me and turned herself quickly in the bed, spreading her body on top of mine, holding my face against her shoulder, as I cried. "It's okay babe, it's okay. Let it out. Cry for me. It's okay," she murmured. I don't know how long my crying jag lasted, but I'm sure it was ten or fifteen minutes before I could control myself again. "God Marissa, that was so wonderful. Thank you." I wiped more tears from my eyes and tried hard to fill my lungs completely so I could really catch my breath and stop the sobbing. "Babe, I know I'm good, but I'm not that good. That crying was not about the pleasure. It was about the release. With that orgasm you began to set yourself free from your sorrow, from your pain. I'm just glad it was with me." As she said it I knew she was right. This incredibly beautiful, incredibly sexy woman had literally sucked some small part of the sorrow out of me. "Now it's your turn Marissa," I said, rolling her off me. To be continued...