16 comments/ 135470 views/ 26 favorites Jennifer's Blue Panties By: SomeOneNew Foster Davis had been a widower for just over two years when his daughter and a friend were returning from a semester in France the week before Thanksgiving. Tall, forty-something and in good physical shape with a distinguished touch of gray at his temples and salted throughout his professorial beard, he was lonely for companionship he easily could have had were he so inclined. But somewhat lost following his wife's death, he stayed single and mostly celibate. He missed his children though. His son, a newlywed, was visiting hiss for the holiday, so Foster anxiously awaited Megan and her friend at the airport on the cold and rainy Saturday afternoon. The plane long had disgorged its passengers when a pretty girl in the baggage area approached him pulling a luggage cart and addressed him as if she knew him. "Mr. Davis, you do have Megan's eyes" the brunette said confidently, "I'm Jennifer." "Hello" he said cheerfully as she shook his hand. Five foot seven or so with medium-length, dark brunette hair, she had sparkling green eyes, a friendly smile, a healthy girl-next-door complexion and the feral grace of an athlete. She was feminine but looked fit and agile in a way that only training could provide. "Is Megan still in customs," he inquired, looking over her shoulder for his daughter. "You didn't get her email" she realized as she saw the confusion in his eyes. "No, I didn't" he confirmed, puzzlement turning to a slight pique, "I didn't get a phone call, a text message, or a smoke signal either," he added, failing miserably at trying not to sound too irritated. "She's still in France" she smiled tentatively as she raised her eyebrows over intelligent eyes. "Customs fucked up her, sorry, screwed up her visa, so she's stuck there until tomorrow to work it out, but she managed a direct flight home. There's no problem though, so don't worry. She said you'd worry and that I was to take care of you," she added. "She'll be home by tomorrow evening; I have all of her flight information. I hope you don't mind that I beat her here" she added as she noticed his disappointment and concern. "Not at all" he added cheerfully, once again, and tried to recover, sensing that she perceived his distress. "You are more than welcome, of course. Megan has told me a bit about you as well." "I hope not everything," she chided good-naturedly. "Just the good stuff" he said as he took charge of her luggage cart, and they made their way to the car. They chatted amicably as they began the journey from BWI to Columbia in the late afternoon drizzle, fog and heavy pre-holiday traffic. Jennifer was on Megan's lacrosse team; they both were twenty-two, college seniors, French majors, and both intended to study international law in graduate school. Jennifer seemed lithe and confident to him from their conversation. As they finally reached the car he finally noticed that she was leggy in her gray sweats and sneakers, and he noticed as well a magnificent derriere hidden underneath the formless sweats as he watched her bend into the back of his Mini Cooper to stow her luggage. Her wool sweater and down jacket ensured that her upper torso was still a mystery, but he tried to banish such thoughts as he drove and they chatted about France. At his house he got her settled in his son's former room, now the guest room, across the carpeted hall from the master suite and next to Megan's room. She jumped at his offer to freshen up after the long flight, complaining that she could still smell jet fuel on her clothes. He left her alone to unpack as he prepared to leave to buy beer for the girls and Scotch for him, as well as his weekly lottery ticket. She didn't answer as he called to tell her that he was leaving, so he walked to her door and knocked softly. Getting no response he pushed the door open to find her sound asleep, no doubt tired from her flight. She lay sprawled on her stomach with her arms crossed, cushioning her head; she was still in her sneakers and they hung out over the end of the bed. It was then that he took stock of the full and muscled derriere that accented her backside. Her sweats were twisted where she fell asleep and pulled tight where her ass curved under to her inner thighs. The seam dug into the deep crack between taut cheeks and faintly outlined the seams of what appeared to be thin triangular panties underneath. He sighed deeply and vaguely remembered a team picture with her muddy in her lacrosse uniform, which was all of her body he would permit myself to think of for now. She was twenty-two and a friend of his daughter's he reflected as he fought to dispel an image of her in little other than sweats or less. "Enough" he mouthed softly as he closed the front door behind him and made his way to the neighborhood drugstore. He wasted some additional time and bought sundry items for the three of them before he headed home. The house was silent as he entered, and thinking her still asleep he was quiet as well as he put away his purchases. He made his way to his bedroom and consciously avoided looking into the guestroom as he passed the door still slightly ajar; "out of sight out of mind" he softly declared to no one in particular as he stretched out for a nap on the dreary Sunday afternoon. Not five minutes later he heard what he assumed was the soft meowing of an outdoor cat. But the sound grew and began to resemble crying, and he first thought that Jennifer was dreaming, and then he feared that she was in some sort of distress, physical or otherwise. He softly made his way into the hall and peered through the narrow opening in the doorway. Jennifer still lay face down. But now her sneakers and socks were dropped on the floor at the foot of the bed and her knees were bent and her legs jutted into the air so that at first he couldn't see her body at all. As her panting increased she dropped her legs to the bed to reveal the length of her body. Her sweats were pulled to just below her knees, and tiny sky blue panties were rolled down and bunched beneath her lovely cheeks so that he could see the bare mounds of her finely toned rump, now pushed upward to accommodate her busy right hand. She was moaning softly, not crying, and one hand appeared to be industriously active underneath her as her cheeks tightened and loosened and her toes curled in time to her throaty panting. Indeed, she was in such good shape it appeared that a quarter dropped on her bottom would impossibly bounce back on her flesh. Fascinated, but not wanting to be caught watching her, he retreated from the door. He was so transfixed that he could barely move, save whichever muscles began involuntarily to pump blood into his organ. It was the single most erotic moment he had ever witnessed, never having watched a woman masturbate in his company, nor voyeuristically watched one in the throes of such a private moment, surely not his wife. He wanted to enter the room, kneel and kiss the bottoms of her feet, slide her sweats from her legs so she could spread them to reveal herself to his eager eyes, to do the things that his wife never permitted. Of course he didn't. He felt a slight twinge of embarrassment as he quickly retreated to his bedroom, trying to pull his door shut ever so quietly. But tension got the better of his self-control, and he closed the door with a loud noise. When the door shut with a noisy click, her cries of pleasure abruptly ceased. Needless to say, he was incredibly aroused by what he had observed and lay down to try to take an elusive nap, his cock throbbing in concert with his heart. It was nearly impossible to will his manhood to deflate, so he went to the master bathroom to shower with the intention of relieving himself in the hot water and soap. He heard Jennifer open the door to her room and enter the family bathroom next to the master bath. He listened to her pee as he sat on the cold, closed toilet seat and massaged his dick. The thought of her on the other side of the wall and so aroused did nothing to discourage his excited state as he imagined Jennifer still on the bed as he saw her earlier, her flesh pulsing to the libidinous rhythm of her hand. In his mind's eye he imagined a close-up image of her ass on the bed and still an even closer image of her busy finger frantically dipping into her needy slit, while she explored the gentle hills and cavities of her body with frantic, plunging fingers. Like an addict denied a drug, he wanted to see her again, maybe this time unclothed, and he knew how he might do so, despite the awkwardness of his spur of the moment plan. Quickly he pulled down the attic access in his bedroom and mounted the rickety stairs into the cold and dusty space, quickly getting the noisy part of his plan out of the way while Jennifer was still in the bathroom. He moved a box or two and threw a length of fiberglass insulation aside to reveal the brace for the ceiling fan in the guest room below. He knelt carefully, lying face down in the dust to position his eye over a strategically placed hole in the attic flooring and the wallboard of the room, aside the motor of the ceiling fan. He had almost forgotten the spy hole, drilled years before when his wife and he suspected their son of using drugs. Happily, their suspicions were groundless, but the peephole he never remembered to fill and soon just put off indefinitely. He eagerly awaited Jennifer's return. His wait was short, for soon she returned to the room again in her sweatpants and sweatshirt. She pushed shut her door and frustrated, began to run her hands through her hair as she looked at her face in the full-length mirror on the sliding doors of her closet. This was followed with a wider view of her body as she backed up and pulled the sweatshirt off over her head to reveal a set of heavenly perfect breasts. He feasted on her youthful form as she ran her hands under her armpits, over her ass, and finally, in a slight squat, over her crotch as well before she narcissistically appraised herself in the mirror. She quickly pulled off her sweats to reveal a set of legs that were strong and muscled from running. She turned in profile and touched her breasts—their shape and size reminiscent of a small grapefruit adorned with large nipples and light pink areola the size of quarters--and stroked her flat tummy, dragging a finger in a lazy circle around her navel. The skin of her boobs was imprinted with small creamy triangles that barely extended beyond their light crimson centers. She turned away from the mirror and looked over her shoulder as she studied her backside and legs, an impressive length of tanned flesh stretching from her shoulders to her ass and further down her well-developed legs to her feet. She flexed her butt before she dipped her hands under her blue, string bikini panties and scratched the nails of both hands over her cheeks and along the walls of her crack, still evaluating herself, finally taking her hands and slightly parting herself as she raised her eyebrows in approval, quite aware of her assets. Then she dropped her panties to grace his eyes with her most private riches. Surveying the slow rotation of her ass cheeks she walked to the foot of the bed, turned, sat, and spread her legs as she began to comb fingers through the trimmed hair of her muff, but this was short-lived as she jumped off of the bed to grab a magazine from her luggage, her breasts firmly jiggling with each quick movement of her body. Foster was beside himself in the dust and darkness of his attic, his erection pulsing insistently against his clothing as he guiltily watched the young woman settle into the guest room. She crawled up the bed to where her head rested on a pillow and turned on her side over the magazine with her back to him, her ass cheeks now parted into a revealing split as one leg remained straight and outstretched and the other pulled up and bent at the knee to reveal her moist holes. She flexed and massaged the muscles of her ass and legs as she flipped through the pages of her magazine, finally settling on a picture of a buff boy-toy in his early twenties without a shirt, his one hand hanging by his side, held there by a thumb hooked into the waistband of his jeans, his fly suggestively unzipped a few inches overtop the faintest outline of a thick cock, limp and laying sideways. He looked directly into the camera and into the eyes of the viewer as she studied the picture. Foster got a better look at her backside now that she lay relatively motionless. Little dimples indented either side of the base of her spine just above the slope of her butt. She must have sunbathed in a tiny bikini, for her back and ass were hardly imprinted with thin white strips, and on her ass was a tiny white triangle that failed to cover her crack at the top, all surrounded with caramel, sun-darkened skin. She leaned forward to grab a drink of water from a bedside table before she began to explore the walls of her crack, and then toy with herself, one finger tenderly fondling her minuscule pink asshole. She pinched her pussy lips, pulling on them and reaching further between her legs to massage her clit. One finger returned to the diminutive circle of her ass and tickled it, roughly pulled at it to stretch the skin and temporarily distend it with a forceful squeeze of one buttock that left white fingerprints on her skin. She finished by dragging her nails over one of her cheeks and making white lines in the skin before she rolled onto her back and licked her fingers like an animal. Soon she was focused on her boobs, kneading her breasts first and pulling on her nipples after circling her areola, first with a dry finger and then one dripping with spit dipped from under her tongue. She bent both legs at the knees and spread them wide to pick up the pace. She clutched her entire mound and her fingers soon focused on her clit with one finger while two fingers of her other hand parted her clitoral hood to reveal—even as far away as he was in the attic--a large clit, swollen with desire. She tapped and brushed it again and again as she rapidly brought herself near to an orgasm, moaning softly as she struggled to maintain control in the guestroom of a stranger's house, two fingers dipping in and out of her pussy and her face contorted in anticipation of her release. At last she mounted the crest of her orgasm as her pelvis lifted from the bed to kiss her dancing fingers poised on her pussy. Foster wanted her badly; by now he lusted for her more than anyone he could remember since his early twenties. But to have her he surmised that she needed him as well, to want his attention as much as he wanted to give it. Having her unsatisfied would either result in her cumming alone, later, in her room and without him, or it could encourage something between them he reasoned. Thinking fast, he took his penknife from his pocket and tossed it down the open attic stairs, making a fairly loud noise, one not from the attic but rather from his room. The noise startled her and she sat up and listened. She whispered, "fuck" in a loud stage whisper and rose to listen at the door to her room, one hand still caressing her deprived pussy. She stood there for a bit and thought, finally walking back to the mirror and again looking at her lean and muscular form. His plan failed, for undaunted and apparently aroused beyond the point of no return, she returned to the bed and lay on her stomach. She assumed her first position, on her stomach, and pushed out her ass to accommodate her hand underneath. He watched astounded as her respiration grew labored, her breaths grew shorter, more frenzied and ragged and then almost stopped. Her ass rose further off of the bed and her entire torso shivered, as the tight knolls of her ass clenched in a series of spasms and a trickle of fluid ran from her pussy onto the sheets. She muffled several high-pitched squeals in the pillow below her as she came and continued to stroke herself with the hand hidden from his eyes. Her body relaxed as she brought her quivering fingers to her face and laid them in her gaping mouth, tasting the glistening juices. After a period of recovery she stood and again approached the mirror. She squatted slightly to wipe her hand over her pussy lips. As she brought the hand up he thought that she would again taste herself, but she surprised him. She wiped her hand over her breasts like she was spreading body wash and then sparingly dabbed under her ears as if she were applying fine perfume. This she followed with a squirt of actual perfume in the same places, choosing not to shower. She again donned her sweatshirt, her blue panties, and tight gray running shorts and left the room without first checking to see if Foster was about. Maybe, he thought, she wanted to surprise him in the hallway, maybe not. He quietly rose to his knees and backed to the stairs, descended to his bedroom and began to change his dusty clothes. Again he considered relieving his swollen member, and again he decided to wait; by now he mused, he was so horny that his wad would hit the headboard behind him when he came, so built up was his frustration that clear fluid had leaked a large spot onto his underwear. So he busied himself about his bedroom and finally managed to forget his hard-on. He dressed and descended to the family room to find Jennifer watching television, barefoot in the sweatshirt and tiny gray athletic shorts, her legs pulled up onto the chair and provocatively tilted sideways, ass turned out, so that the crotch of her shorts graphically outlined her swollen lips and the split along her backside. "Hi Mr. Davis" she said innocently, without a trace of her lust, "it's so nice to watch TV in English for a change. I don't even mind the commercials," she added with a laugh. "TV in English, huh? What else did you miss," he asked her, not quite knowing where the conversation would lead after what he had just seen. "Pizza," she answered without hesitation. "We went to France and Italy and ate different kinds of food all over Europe, but America has a taste all its own" she said with a smile. "Then pizza it is" he said. "Whenever you are ready, we can go out for some dinner. My treat." She popped up from her chair and turned off the television. "Then let's go. I'm starved," she said as she ran back to the guest room, "but I have to change first" she called as she scurried back the hallway, and he watched her developed rear end gyrate into the distance. He was dressed in his normal weekend garb, jeans and a sweatshirt, and he sat and waited for her to return, which was remarkably fast. When his wife dressed to go out it had meant that they wouldn't be leaving for over an hour. But out she came in a maroon sweat suit and sneakers. She wore very little make-up, and truth be told she didn't need it. They walked to a local family pizza pub, took a small table for two in a corner by a window and ordered a pizza and a pitcher of dark beer. He was impressed that she requested dark beer, as he normally had to drink some nameless light beer when he went out with friends, and moreover was used to girls her age drinking watery fruity drinks. But Jennifer had developed a taste for it in Europe much to his surprise. After one pitcher the pizza came and they ordered another pitcher. She dove into the food like she was starved, devouring three slices to his two. The beer started to take hold as they began to people-watch, and they got the giggles over a couple with three horribly misbehaved children and sat closer together, speaking into each other's ears up close, so that their silly conversation would not be overheard. He relished every whisper of her hot breath on his ear. As she spotted each succeeding couple she would alert him with a nod of her head and a tap on his leg under the table, but eventually the tap became a stroke of sorts and soon her foot remained nonchalantly crossed against his calf. Her perfume mixture and his memory of today's events had their desired effect as he sat with a partial erection the entire second pitcher, her exotic scent a sort of ambrosia that subtly tugged on his libido and accented the physical contact between them. They drained the second pitcher and headed out the door. She bought a 6-pack of the beer to go even though he had beer at the house. She claimed that she got sick if she changed beers halfway through the night. Jennifer's Blue Panties Home was a short four blocks away, so though they were a bit high, they didn't have far to go to get there, yet it seemed to take forever as they walked slowly and conversed with ease. Again she started laughing and had to run behind a bush to pee in his upper middle class neighborhood for fear she would lose control from laughing. "Take this," she said as she shoved the 6-pack into his hands, "and keep a look out" she joked, "unless you want to help," she finished as she disappeared behind a bush. He couldn't help but hear her gushing and splattering the soaked ground as he maintained the requested vigil until she finished, taken aback at how quickly something so personal had become second nature to her, almost pissing in front of her host. Back home they sat across a coffee table in the family room as she kicked off her sneakers. The alcohol had made her warm, so she changed from her sweat suit back into the sweatshirt and athletic shorts she had worn before they left. In the dim light of the family room it looked like she again had removed her bra, the globes of her boobs—and definitely her nipples--appearing more prominent, but he couldn't be sure, and again she sat with her legs alternately drawn up onto the chair or suggestively spread akimbo with her feet on the edge of her chair. They turned on the television as they talked, and she flipped through the channels looking for something to watch. When Foster returned from a visit to the bathroom he sat down again and found two fresh beers waiting and a porn film playing on the TV. "Woops" she said in the voice of the slightly drunken as he saw the couple in the film start to go at each other, he a buff model, "probably gay" Jennifer exclaimed with a twitter, and she an equally airbrushed and buxom blond with obviously fake and oversized boobs. Inside Foster shifted uncomfortably as he watched the two begin to undress each other to reveal shaved pubic areas and, in the case of the guy, a perfectly sculpted body, not to mention penis. Foster's cock was every bit as filling as that of the porn star he realized as he watched the young stud lap at the woman's pussy to the sound of her exaggerated moans, but in his forties, buff like a model he was no more. The guy was tapping his schlong on the woman's lips when Foster decided to change the subject. "Popcorn" he said, as she looked at him heavy-lidded and smiled at the incongruous suggestion, "would you like some" he added, not intending to suggest a double entendre. "MmmHmm, I think I do," she mouthed as she turned to look at him and changed the channel to a music video. "In Europe it's all over TV, everywhere really. I got used to seeing it, and that guy there was cute, present company excluded of course, anyway . . ." she trailed off without glancing at him, her legs squirming and searching for a fixed position like she again had to pee. He popped the popcorn and added some butter and salt before he brought it into the room. Jennifer was lying back on her chair, her back in a backward arch that accented her breasts, and looking at him through half-closed eyes as he approached. "Mind if I pass on the popcorn" she asked unexpectedly. "I need a couple of minutes if you don't mind" she said as she rose to her feet. "Sure, of course," he added. "Can I get you anything? Are you ok," he asked. "Yes, I'm fine," she said as she rose and leaned over him with a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, her hair falling over his face as she bent and planted an unexpected kiss on his forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I just need to lay down for a sec" she finished with a lazy grin, her face hovering too close to his for slightly too long. She stood slowly and made her way up the stairs and to her room, her seductive hips carrying her up the stairs from the family room. That's all for her tonight he lamented, as he waited a few minutes and began to munch on the popcorn, somewhat dejected. After about fifteen minutes he turned down the volume on the television and returned it to the adult channel. Two girls were undressing each other, one kissing her way down the other one's tummy to her pussy and then swabbing out her companion's glistening slit. Their bodies were nearly flawless, and quickly his libido reacted to the stimulation. Looking up the stairs he decided that it was safe to unwind, so he unbuttoned his pants, unzipped his fly and freed his stiff cock, which quickly tented his boxers. He further dimmed the lights and propped his legs on the coffee table, one hand on his boxers softly teasing his member, thrusting up through his open fly and resembling a quickly surfacing submarine. He almost forgot that he had a guest. After watching two or three more sexual vignettes and downing a Scotch, he was hard as a rock and considered making his way to bed and taking in hand the built up tension in his loins. Looking up though, a shock of horror flew through him as he saw Jennifer standing in the doorway to the family room at the foot of the stairs. He froze, at first thinking that she was sleepwalking or acting out some other unlikely cartoon absurdity. But she walked to the couch and smiled at him as he looked for a pillow to cover his embarrassment. He thought of zipping his fly but froze instead. "I guess I'm not the only one who watches late night television," she said with a wry smile and her hands on her hips. "Jennifer" he began, but was cut off as she walked next to him, her locks again tumbling seductively over his face, bent and kissed him with the sinuous tip of her tongue probing the front of his mouth, her lips soft, wet and warm. Her blue top hung on spaghetti straps and was so short that it failed to reach her navel; it gapped open on her and allowed her boobs to peek out the sides while her well-worn panties were the same that she had on earlier. She aggressively threw her leg over his outstretched legs and straddled his hard-on, knees up on the sofa, planting her crotch directly on top of his dick as she again began to kiss him, over and over touching her lips to his, slowly increasing the force until they were crushing lips to lips. She slowly moved her hips back and forth as she drove him wild with the sensation of her warm crack cradling his needy shaft, flexing muscles he was unaware women could so develop, so much so that he feared cumming simply from the stimulation. Her pussy and ass cheeks were literally squeezing his member through her panties, and she reached down to pull her ass apart before she settled on him to ensure that she caught his cock in her tender fissure. She stood and knelt next to his legs, running her hand over his thighs. She stroked his cock through the material of his boxers as it pulsed from her contact. She studied his manhood and gazed wide-eyed and smiling at its outline before she reached fingers through the fly of his boxers and stroked his balls, tickling them with her nails and eliciting from him a quick intake of breath. Squeezing him with her warm hand she further teased his erection until the skin on his head was stretched near to bursting. "Jennifer" he again started to say, although what next was to come out of his mouth even he did not know. Ignoring him, she ripped open the fly to his underwear and freed him with a hum of approval as he popped to attention, both her hands now on bare skin and driving him wild. "Long and hard," she murmured admiringly as she stroked his length and drew a groan from him. "I want to see you better" she said as she turned on the light next to the sofa. Here was every man's dream, crouched before him, her boobs pushing large bullet-hard nipples into the material of her gauzy shirt as she focused on his dick, inspecting it like it was the first she had ever seen. Leaning forward, with a practiced grip she stroked from the base to the tip, milking with her thumb a clear drop of pre-cum. She leaned forward and dipped the tip of her tongue into it and swiped into her mouth as he again groaned. "We never had dessert tonight" she smiled as she did it again, this time sucking his head into her mouth and swirling her tongue around with an expertise clearly indicating that this was not the first cock that had parted those supple lips. She filled her mouth with spit, took the tip in her mouth and swirled the warm liquid with her tongue, driving him wild. "You taste good," she said as she continued to stroke his length with her hand, stopping at the head to rub her thumb over additional pre-cum. She continued to fondle his shaft, alternately blowing on the head and licking it with each stroke. "These come off," she said as she pulled on his pants and slipped them from under him. His boxers came off with his pants as well. She again mounted him and slid back and forth, now on his bare erection as she softly kissed him, his fingers now on the back of her head and tangled in her hair to encourage her. "I want you in me; you look like you are ready to explode" she observed. "Let's start with my mouth," she said as she dismounted him again, dropping between his legs and parting them further, "or do you want to do something special for me?" She hunched down and licked his inner thighs as she looked up the length of his body, painting a thin line of saliva up each thigh to his balls. Both of her hands she slipped under his buttocks as she licked his balls, at times stretching her tongue to where they ended a hairy half-inch from his asshole. As she sucked first one ball and then the next into her mouth he suddenly felt guilty, despite all that had happened, and said, "wait." "Stop or go Mr. Davis. Which is it?" she teased with a whisper. "Jennifer, people my age normally don't . . ." "Even though they want to," she said matter-of-factly as she interrupted him and unexpectedly took half of him into her mouth and began to suck him with expertise beyond her years. "Oh my god that feels good," he moaned as she smiled with him still in her mouth and slowed her stroking. "Well, ok, since you asked so nicely" she said mischievously after extracting him. "But first you have to tell me that you'll do something special for me later." "Do something special," he asked with glazed eyes. "Look, Mr. Davis, I've been licking your cock. Time to share some secrets" she said as she now barely stroked him, her fingers gentle as feathers flicking up and down his aching rod and interfering with his ability to speak, let alone think. "Yes, ok, yes" he agreed with a touch of excitement underneath his curiosity. "What do you like most about my body," she continued as she leaned forward to nuzzle the base of his dick just where it connected with his balls. "Like most" he almost groaned, as she stopped stroking him and ran a single finger around his purple head in the spit and oozing pre-cum. He thought for a second with the remaining portion of his brain that wasn't focused on his dick, "your, your butt" he managed to get out, "your ass is stunning." "Good," she said, "I like it too; I like to watch guys watch it," she giggled before she stood and faced away from him. She pulled her shirt up so that he could see clearly her lower back and panties, so tightly sculpted to her backside, and caressed her butt with her free hand and pulled them tighter into her fissure. "Most never get this close though," she observed. "Which do you like more Mr. Davis, a bare ass or one in panties," she asked as she plunged a hand inside of hers and slowly dragged it up her crack. "I love guessing what a guy has in his, and sometimes it's a disappointment. A guy can be hung like a horse and not know what to do with it, do you know what I mean," she finished. "Jesus Christ, Jennifer. You are going to kill me doing this," he panted as he sat stock still while his entire being contracted to the space one foot from his face. "So you'll help me and have some fun too," she laughed as she gave a flirty wiggle to her hips and turned to face him, still standing between his legs, his cock throbbing to the beat of his heart. "Help you," he asked in near disbelief. "Jennifer, look, this is an unexpected fantasy with a girl. I shouldn't have done this I guess. I let this get out of control, and I shouldn't have" he responded. "A unexpected fantasy; what, you have expected ones? Anyway, tell all this to your dick," she laughed as she took him in hand. "You shouldn't have done this? What, only forty year old men are allowed to have fantasies, not women in their twenties? In case you haven't noticed, I stopped being a girl a few years ago. And I think we both have needs; I know I do. Seems like you do too," she finished with a stroke of his dick. He was taken aback by her words, short and succinct and wholly logical. But anything would have seemed logical in his current state he realized. "But you are twenty-two, I'm . . ." "Older than me" she interrupted, finally letting go of his dick. "Everything here still works unless I missed something. And I bet you have more on the job training than most of the boys I've been with, which is why I want you." "But you're Megan's friend, and . . ." "She's not here" she again interrupted. "And this isn't any of her business. It's ours. If you had met me in that pizza pub, or I had been older, or a friend of a friend on a blind date, you wouldn't even be thinking about this. We'd be in bed right now. But because I'm Megan's friend it's a big deal." "You still call me Mr. Davis. My name is Foster" he interjected, mostly without a point. "Maybe I like the idea of fucking Mr. Davis. Maybe tomorrow night I can fuck Foster too. Maybe both of you at once" she added with a sexy "mmm." "You've done that before?" "I only share that kind of information with lovers," she smiled, "coming?" "Jennifer it's been a year since I have slept with anyone, a year after my wife died. And you are the last person who I expected to do this with." "And who did you plan to do this with" she said with a frustrated bite to her voice. "Look, I'm going up to my room. I'm going to take off my top and my footy socks. I'm going to strip and lay down on the bed. I'm going to put my hand on my pussy and pull up on my clit and finger myself until I cum and soak a little spot or two in the sheets. Your cock is bigger and much more interesting than my finger. You can go to bed thinking about that and think about it the entire time I'm here and then change the sheets after I'm gone" she finished and stepped out of his legs. She spread her legs and squatted slightly. She took his hand from his side and placed it on her warm crotch. His hand remained there as he felt the warmth of her engorged lips and the damp material as she kissed him again, "or you can come upstairs with me" she concluded. "Now smell your hand," she said, looking him in the eyes. "Jennifer," he protested. "Do it," she ordered. He took his hand away and brought it up to his face, inhaling her scent and sighing. "That's how much I want you in me," she said as she started up the stairs and to her bedroom with her ass swinging seductively. He thought for a few minutes before he rose, downed a shot of Scotch and chased it with some water, checked the lock on the front door, turned off the lights and made for the stairs like he did every other night. As he mounted the stairs he saw her light burning through the crack in her door. Approaching the room he paused to take a breath and then looked in to see basically what he saw this afternoon. A gorgeous young woman on the guest bed wearing a short blue top, with her ass half shucked and her blue panties bunched just at the base. Her crossed arms lazily cradled her head as if she knew that he would take care of her needs and that she should save her energy for other things. Taking another breath he pushed open the door and entered. He walked to the side of the bed to look her in the eye. She looked at him through half-closed eyes but did not smile this time as her mind was focused now on other pleasures. Now, in close-up, he finally got his wish to survey her body: long brunette hair, well developed back and arm muscles, tan skin, white strap lines to a tiny bikini worn on some nameless beach, spine like a path of symmetrical pebbles leading down to a crack that lead deep into her warmth. Her back and ass were covered with almost microscopic down bleached white by the sun, and her cleft was deep enough to hide between her beautiful cheeks what lay just an inch into the darkness. He walked to the base of the bed and knelt at her feet. He paused and thought to himself, so long out of practice and so in need of this very thing. His cock throbbed insistently and slowly fed clear fluid to the tip. He had pleased many lovers before he married; he was more than adequately hung, sensitive or demanding as the situation required. "Act; don't think" he finally decided, like riding a bike he told himself with a private laugh. He took her foot in his hand and kissed the arch, smelled leather and licked to taste faintly salty sweat as she shivered in response and gooseflesh covered her legs. He pulled off her panties as she pushed up her ass and leaned first to one side and then the other to assist him. He removed them, impulsively put them to his face and inhaled a strong mélange of perfume, the unmistakable odor of pussy, the earthy scent of her ass, the inevitable aroma of sweat and dried pee from her detour behind a bush. He unrolled them to see that they were stained, warm, freshly damp in a spot in the center, smelling of the hours they cradled her in her sweats, across the Atlantic, in the airport, in his car, to his house. The odor surged like a drug to the animal part of his brain, and he suddenly craved her cunt and her ass. No longer Megan's friend, this was a woman he was going to fuck. As if she knew what they both needed she spread her legs gymnastically to nearly a 180-degree split and fully exposed her pink treasures to the light, again calling attention to her backside. For emphasis more than practicality she reached both hands around and with her fingertips cupped the curves of her ass and pulled herself apart a bit, holding herself open for his pleasure. Her pussy was perfectly symmetrical. A prominent outer lip that curtained the inner ones was soft and moist, the slit in between glistening in the light. Above this was her petite asshole, so tight that it impossibly appeared to be sealed. He resisted the urge to bend and lick her now, to drink in her scent at the source as she reached a finger up to nudge her little tailpipe and scrape at it with her fingernail. Both openings were light pink and small, yet hidden in a well-developed feminine butt and upper thighs, and covered with pubic hair trimmed to accommodate the smallest bikini, yet not bare, as was the fashion among so many young people. One hand she slipped under her stomach and between her legs to stroke her slit that he now so desperately wanted to possess with his mouth, his fingers, to pierce with his cock and make his own. She was so wet that her finger made a slurping sound as she diddled with herself and slipped her middle finger in and out. "Stop" he quietly asserted, and she immediately complied. He moved to her neck. Using his tongue like a sable brush he painted on her back an abstract sketch, punctuated with occasional kisses and playful bites with his teeth as she stretched and purred like a cat in response. She purred louder as he slowly made his way to the base of her spine and kissed the uppermost inches of her split, now parted wide for his pleasure. He turned on the overhead light in the room to see her better and drank in the sight, a halo of darkened skin that ringed her wrinkled back door, soft almost invisible hairs as well, a tiny, dark mole that orbited there as well, that only the privileged got to observe, the glistening drops of lubrication that hung on the short curls of her pubic hair, the involuntary spasm of her muscles that flexed her cheeks and made her sphincter twitch as he lapped the sides of her crack, only to stop long before he neared her hole, save a sweet kiss on the little orbiting mole that sent shivers through her body. Jennifer's Blue Panties He moved again to her feet and began to massage them, first one and then the other, licking between her toes as she whimpered with delight. He ever so softly dragged his lips up the inside of one thigh to where his nose began to nuzzle the white skin of her crotch aside her pussy, only to retreat and begin again with the other foot and kiss his way up that leg to the same spot on the other side as her body began to squirm in anticipation of direct contact. She moaned softly, her ass lifting off of the bed to be touched by his tongue, or his lips or split rudely. But he was hitting his stride and remembering a part of him long unused, that part that relished the glance before the kiss, and the seductive power of the dance. She thought that he would soon kiss her sweet wet holes and that she would rear up to accept his thrusts and cry out in pleasure. But then she only thought she knew him. "Roll over" he said again quietly requested, and he surveyed his unexpected holiday gift. She was the most physically perfect woman he had ever had. Her legs were smooth and defined; her facial features balanced and attractive. She was a young woman in her prime, in ideal shape. Her breasts clung tightly to her chest; on all fours they probably wouldn't dangle, but were nonetheless full. She started to spread her legs and pull them back and open so she would gap invitingly for him but he stopped her and laid them straight and side-by-side as if to deny himself what he wanted to see at least for now. "Oh lordy," he mouthed as he lay beside her and hungrily surveyed her body. She merely smiled in response to his flattery before they kissed passionately, starting slowly until they eventually crushed their lips and teeth together and savored their tastes as he softly pinched and rolled her nipples with his fingers and she grabbed at his back and dug her nails into his muscles. He pulled her arms over her head, and she grasped the spindles of the headboard. "Tie them if you want. It wouldn't be the first time," she said, hoping to lead him in a familiar direction. "I'll just trust you to hold on," he smiled as he kissed her eyes. "And it would be the first time for me," he laughed. Starting at her hands he kissed and licked her forearms to the soft crotch of her elbows and then to her underarms, and she became even more aroused from the unexpected sensations as she began to pant at having the smooth skin of her armpits licked, something no boy had ever done, most diving headlong for her nipples and her pussy. He tickled her with his tongue and watched her squirm and then went to the other arm and did the same. Her perspiration was clean and mildly salty. He moved his mouth to her breast and twisted her nipple in his lips as he dragged his fingernails up and down her side. He then gently rolled it in his teeth as she began to whine and breathed more quickly as she moved her torso in response to the affectionate biting. He began to brush his tongue over her nipples, his saliva wetting her as he switched to her other breast and continued with the soft, wet counterpoint to his teeth. She turned slightly on her side and threw a leg over him and ground her wet muff into one of his thighs as he sucked her other breast and began to knead it with his hands, relishing her solid breasts. His cock was trailing a random trail of fluid over her belly and then down one leg as he kissed and licked his way to her navel over her smooth and muscled stomach, his body inching down between her legs. "Stop teasing me" she begged as she fell back onto her back and spread her legs for him, pulling him onto her and splitting herself to be filled. He decided to be aggressive and lifted her legs and her ass into the air so that her feet hit the headboard with her pussy now gaping, with a wet line of juice having seeped down the crack of her ass. "Tell me what you want, Jennifer," he teased her, holding her in the erotically splayed position. "Lick my pussy Mr. Davis, and then do something special for me" she begged in an excited voice as her hands strained at the spindles behind her. She partly got her wish as he softly bit and sucked on the base of her ass cheeks and then wedged her pubic bone in his mouth and held her there, taking her damp crotch into his mouth. She moaned loudly as he finally began to meet her needs with just the tip of his tongue finding her clit. It was large for such a small pussy, proportionally large like her nipples, and he tapped it as her body jerked with each relatively minute nudge. He pulled back from her and finally circled his lips around her swollen bud as with his tongue he rubbed back and forth over her body's most sensitive nerves. She noisily writhed and rode his mouth, bucking and flailing and crying out as he continued his assault with his bearded chin nestled in the space between her pussy and her ass. "Oh fuck me, you've got to fuck me," she intoned as her breathing told him that she was close to an orgasm. He turned his attention to her ass and started to lap at her back door. Her volume increased tenfold as he dipped his nose into her quim and kissed and licked her little tailpipe. Her complaints turned to squeaks as she came near to exploding in his talented mouth and as all manner of sluttish profanity cascaded from her dainty mouth as she urged him on to bring her to an orgasm, her pussy overflowing with lubrication. Foster stopped and let her legs drop to the bed as she cried "Noooooo" and attempted to rub her thighs together to carry herself over the threshold. He quickly pulled her legs apart and dropped in between. Rising to her mouth he kissed her as she slammed her mouth into his and drove his tongue deep, "fuck me, fuck my pussy, fuck my mouth, fuck my butt, pleeaassee, that's what I want most, please" she squealed and then laughed at her vulgarity, "please Mr. Davis, please finish me, I'll do anything you want." "Get on top of me" he said quietly into her ear before he snaked a tongue there as well. He lay on his back and watched her straddle him, take him in hand and move to slip him into her before he stopped her. "No, turn around and face away from me" he continued, "I want to watch your ass." "Up my ass, please, up my ass. I've never done this. I've been saving it for a special person, and I don't want some cute dumb hunk to plow his meat into there too hard. Will you, please," she begged as she rocked back and forth on his swollen cock. "I get so wet I don't even need lube for my finger." "Turn around," was all he could say. She quickly flipped around, took him in hand and tried several times to put him into her, finally managing to slip his large head into her tiny hole. They simultaneously groaned with pleasure as she surrendered to gravity, and he, first slipping past her sphincter, and then one ring of muscle at a time, slipped into her to the hilt and bottomed out in the depths of her tight, brown hole. She was lubricated enough, but still felt tight as a glove to him as she began to wail with him inside of her. He was obviously the first into her back door for she was so tight that she balanced on his stick a full minute before he finally slid home and bottomed out inside of her. Slowly, she began to ride him, her wailing near to a scream at times, bending forward so that he could see her flesh being pulled outward and pushed back in by his cock as she rose up almost to where he almost slipped from her and them posted down on him again, her crinkled asshole now stretched tight as a drum with no skin to spare. Unbelievably, she still played with his balls as they moaned and took pleasure from each other. Then she came hard and screamed gutturally as the sensation carried her away into a world of profane submission to her first ass-fucking, and as she did so she held herself down on him and wiggled her ass back and forth, grinding right and left to accentuate his depth in her. He felt her fingers pulling at her clit as she came repeatedly, adding to her pleasure as she cried out as each wave broke over her body, amazed that he was able to please her without cumming himself, so completely erotic was the experience. She quickly pulled off of him and eagerly dropped between his legs and in one gulp took most of him into her throat and sucked at him powerfully, maneuvering his head into the back of her throat and tickling him by making a swallowing motion with the back of her tongue and her throat muscles as he exclaimed, "Oh don't Jennifer, I've just been in your ass girl, at least let me clean up." "I love the feel of a cock buried in my throat, and this is as dirty as it gets. It's my fantasy," she said with a glint in her eye, "now squirt it all over my face Mr. Davis," she said before stroking him while one hand tickled his balls, one finger reaching between his cheeks to slide a fingertip along his crack. She held her lips slightly pursed with her tongue between her teeth, hovering over his swollen member as he began to cum, his face contorted by the erotic power of this young woman. He loudly growled as he squirted a thick band of cum that she aimed through her parted lips and teeth; then a second spattered on her face and mouth as she closed her mouth to swallow the first shot, her eyes closed, her face serene and satisfied. Sensing that he was still cumming but done projecting she sat back and rubbed her fingers over the tip as cum bubbled out and down the sides of his cock and over her curled stroking fingers as her tongue licked clean her lips; she played in the cum with her fingers like it was finger paint and his cock was an art project, his eyes wide as he watched her deep enjoyment of this pleasure, while at the same time he was insane with a desire to pound his meat into her hard, his hips rising and falling in imitation of this desire. To top it off, she leaned into his cock and lapped cum from it, starting at his balls and licking up to the head. She looked at him with a devilish smile on her face and continued to clean him, swallowing over and over as she finished by licking clean her fingers and giving a final suck to his head to drain what was left over in his shrinking member, resting her head on his deflating member for a few moments before running to the bathroom to brush her teeth. His last thought that night was that he never imagined a woman would have such desires, let alone one who chose him to act them out. When they awoke next day it was nearly afternoon and both of them were nursing hangovers. She had showered and was watching TV when he finally appeared and made them breakfast before they began the journey to the airport. They said nothing about last night. Before they left she stopped at the door and put his hands on her ass and her arms around his neck and kissed him long and sweetly. "For now this is our little secret, ok?" she asked. "Ok," he smiled and kissed her on the nose. Megan's flight was on time and the three of them had a mostly platonic Thanksgiving. Sunday morning the two were scheduled to leave early by train to return to college; they all said their goodbyes the night before, Foster knowing that Megan would be home for Christmas for two weeks. But about two a.m. the door to his room opened and a shadowy figure entered and awakened him by crawling into bed with him, her erect nipples pressing into his bare chest. "Jennifer," he started to say before she put her finger on his lips and simply said, "shhh." They kissed repeatedly until she snaked her way under the covers and removed his boxers. She planted her pussy directly over his face and lowered herself onto his eager lips as she kissed his abdomen and licked his balls before sucking him into her mouth and slowly, excruciatingly bringing him to an orgasm. She waited to bring him off until he had her on the brink, and then almost silently they came simultaneously. He pumped a load of cum down her throat as she came on his lips sucking on her clit like a nipple. His fingers pulling her over the edge as they slipped in and out of her ass and pussy for a fitting conclusion to their vacation affair as she trickled a small stream of juices onto his face her muscles contracted on his probing fingers. She spun around and they kissed one last time before she left the room in the cold night. Next morning he awoke around nine and found a note. In two parts it said "See you at X-mas, Dad; Love, Megan." The other part said, "Thank you for everything; love, Jennifer" with the word everything underlined and her email address below her signature. He changed and washed the sheets later that day, wandering around the suddenly empty house with a smile on his face. And in his bedroom he smiled widely when he found a worn pair of blue string bikini panties hanging from the bedpost on his headboard. He left them hanging there until his daughter came for her Christmas visit.