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Damp

By: jakebarnes06



DAMP - AN EXQUISITELY TRUE STORY OF LUST, LIKE AND LIFESTYLE

My thanks to angel_love for gracing this tale with her editing skills. I particularly appreciate her being able to chuckle at and accept, rather than criticize, the images of Hector and his candy.

A sometimes wise woman once explained to me that before one could claim love with a partner, the duo needed to meet the criteria of three preliminary "L" words, those being lust, like and lifestyle. 

Damp, like she'd just showered on a warm summer's eve and slipped into a short cotton dress without drying herself thoroughly. Lilac, fresh and clean like a spring's breeze, glowing from her skin and reminding me of the large, purple flowered bushes growing in my backyard as a child. Dark blonde curls, everywhere cascading like a waterfall from her head. Slow, soft jazz beating away from a saxophone somewhere in the distance and setting the mood.

I'd just entered her home for the first time. We stood in the foyer looking at each other for a long moment, the smile in her eyes captivating my imagination. Little beads of dew dotting her forehead drew my attention from her eyes. The ear-to-ear grin on her mouth matched mine and was just so inviting. Simultaneously we'd stepped into each other's arms. That was minutes, or hours ago. We'd barely moved, save my hand's slowly stroking her slightly damp back. 

Thoughts finally pushed sensation from my mind and I broke the hug, lifting and pulling back my head. Her face tilted up. We were both still ear-to-ear. I couldn't resist. Back to the clench. She's not wearing a bra, I noted to myself. How male of me. 

More minutes passed and she stepped back, took a hand and led me into a slightly darkened living room, minimally but nicely furnished. For no reason at all I noted the walls were painted a goldenrod color. The color matched the mood of the saxophone. 

She motioned to a sofa. I walked forward a couple of steps, turned and sat, landing on the middle of three cushions. The thought of whether or not I was too obvious whisked through my mind. From ten feet away her ear-to-ear grin answered, as it morphed into a seductive, teasing smile. With her hands on her hips and her eyes glued to mine she sashayed straight at me, mounting the sofa without hesitation and planting one knee alongside each of my hips. Grasping my wrists she placed my hands on her breasts.

"Thirty-eight Ds," her first words announced with clear pride. 

My fingers began kneading. Firm and quite real, her breasts were, and each more than what fit into a hand. My gaze dropped from her face to her chest. I watched intently as her fingers interrupted mine and undid three top buttons and spread wide the cotton of her short, summer's dress, inviting me in. My fingers touched her skin, again feeling the fullness of her. Grasping the back of my head she pulled me forward, forcing my face between her breasts and against her warm, damp, lilac scented skin. My hands, no longer able to touch her breasts, reached behind her finding the two firm, round globes seated on my lap. No panties I suspected. 

My tongue licked a wide swath upward to her throat. She leaned away from me, arching her back and thrusting her chest forward while bracing herself with her hands locked behind my head. Tossing back her head, she exposed everything above her navel as a moan escaped her mouth. My mouth found her neck and began kissing, sucking, nibbling, before slowly moving to her shoulders and then to her chest, ultimately finding a nipple, first one and then the other. Opening wide I sought to engulf an entire breast. Silly me, I knew it wouldn't fit. I tried though, sliding my hands to her back and pulling her chest toward me once, twice, three times, simulating intercourse, but her breast was too large to fit into my mouth. Trying a new tactic, both of my hands encircled one of her breasts and tried squeezing it all into my mouth. I stretched my jaws allowing a bit more to enter, but still nowhere near all.

She saved me from further futile attempts by sliding her hands to either side of my face, tilting me upward and to one side and lowering her mouth onto mine. Soft, slow lips touched me. Electricity sparked. A small, wet tongue penetrated me, toying and tasting as it explored. We lingered now, tongues and lips touching, probing, discovering the mysteries of each other's mouths. Neither of us hurried. My tongue under hers, hers under mine. My tongue tracing her teeth, hers tracing mine. My teeth nibbling a lip, hers nibbling mine. There was no order to the exploration, no sequence. It was all curiosity, satisfied randomly. The overwhelmingly erotic concept of little beads of her saliva dripping slowly but necessarily from her mouth above mine into my mouth below hers coupled with that ever slow, sexual saxophone inexorably drained all thought from me, leaving only dizzying sensation. 

Gradually her motion changed as her tongue slowly slid deeper into my mouth before withdrawing. Over and over she repeated this motion. Each time she pushed into me she emitted a small moan. She now was simulating intercourse just as I had tried earlier. As her tongue entered and withdrew from my mouth, she began moving her hips in like manner. I relaxed and allowed myself to lean back deeper into the sofa while opening my mouth wider, providing her full access to me. My hips slowly joined her, raising and lowering in time with her motion. My hands found her hips and assisted her relentless grind.

Thus we continued, as though time were lost. Our motions matched that smooth saxophone. Neither of us was going anywhere quickly. 

I was hard and quite noticeably so to her in spite of my jeans. She, without panties, had found her rhythm against me. Occasionally she jerked slightly as she shoved her groin forward. I knew she had found her pace toward relief. 

I began suctioning her tongue deeper into my mouth before releasing her to withdraw. Small sounds grew, signifying her approval. 

Her hands and fingers tightened around my head pulling me closer. Our mouths opened wider. Our teeth scraped. She adjusted her position slightly, raising her bottom and spreading her knees wider. That little bud at the top of her center now traced its path back and forth directly upon my rough, jeans covered hardness. Her hips quickened as her moans grew louder. Her pace modulated as she began thrusting her hips forward with more force and withdrawing more slowly, still dragging herself against my length.

Faster she moved. Harder she thrust. More intently she withdrew. Louder and more desperate sounds escaped her mouth and slid deliciously into mine before disappearing down my throat. Her mouth pushed hard against me in time with her hips. Her teeth ground against mine. Her tongue thrust as deeply as possible into my mouth and held there. Her moans became grunts timed to the thrusts of her hips. 

I understood there would be no more evenly paced timing, instead simple animalistic action aimed at achieving the singular goal she craved. More thrusts, more grinding and suddenly she stopped. Total quiet. Her mouth off mine.

"Oh yes!" escaped from her mouth.

She drew back her hips slowly and with great purposefulness. Her head falling slightly forward. Suddenly she bucked her hips forward, her head flying upward and backward. She withdrew quickly.

"Now!" 

I didn't know if her word were a demand or an announcement. I didn't care.

One more thrust forward and back. And in quick succession another and another and another. She stopped again. Back arched. Head rolled back. Eyes closed. Slow humming from her throat. I stared in awe and wonder. Three slow thrusts followed by one great one and then one more. 

One more time and suddenly her body shook wildly as sounds beyond recognition escaped her throat while she jerked wildly against me.

Gradually she calmed and then it was over. Her forehead rested against mine. My tongue lightly licked her lips as she continued slowly rocking her hips against me until finally she stopped altogether and collapsed against my chest.

And so I met Teri. Before this evening we'd chatted on the internet and even spoke a few times on the phone. There was a fresh innocense about her sexuality, not as though she were inexperienced, but more like the spirit of an artist who painted simply because she loved creation. On our third evening on line I'd asked if I could visit. She agreed. I asked when. She said her son went to bed at 9. Could I come at 10? I asked tonight? She answered yes and gave quick directions. I told her I would see her in a few hours. All I heard was "mmm" purred into my ear as the phone clicked off.

I showered, shaved, donned jeans, a casual shirt and my traditional penny loafers, sans pennies. The drive took a little more than an hour. I found her apartment door and knocked. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. Thoughts of being toyed with and stood up entered my brain. I quieted them, hoping for the best. It was a time shortly after the internet craze began, but before cell phones became a necessity of life. I climbed back into my car and drove to a nearby gas station I had spotted on the drive to her home. I found a phone booth, inserted my quarter into the phone's slot, dialed her number and my heart leaped as she answered. 

"Sorry, I must have been in the shower," she offered. "Come now. I'll be ready."

Back into the car, I flew the quick few blocks to her door. She opened on the first knock. She smiled and I stepped in. From arms length we gazed at each other, saying nothing. Time ceased to exist. At some point we moved into each other's arms, I sensing damp, lilac, curls and the beat of a slow, sweet saxophone.

As Teri's breathing slowed and she regained her strength, she slowly lifted her head, a smile gracing her face. 

She raised her eyebrows. "Your turn," she announced as she began to dismount my lap.

"No," I answered. "Sit on my lap, lean back and hook your legs over my shoulders."

A curious look graced her face as she judged the geometry of my demand. A smile quickly formed, broadened into a grin and bloomed as a laugh. 

"I think I might like this one," she speculated.

It wasn't the most graceful shift ever made by two people, but Teri's not a large woman and with my assistance we were able to slide one of her legs over each of my shoulders without kneeing me in the face and she was able to lay down with her back against my legs. Closing my legs to support her, I grabbed a nearby pillow and slid it beneath her head so she could look up into my face. Using both hands, I pulled her hips up and toward me.

There, an inch in front of my mouth, was the sweetest smelling, freshly cum pussy I'd ever encountered. "Trimmed, not shaven," James Bond would have announced. I just looked and looked and looked, my nose savoring her bouquet. "You're beautiful," I told her.

With one hand's supporting each buttock, my thumbs spread her labia and my tongue made first contact with her anus. She startled, but quickly relaxed. Spreading my tongue to its full width, I licked ever so slowly upward, anus to clitoris. My first sensation was overwhelming wet, warm and sweet. At the top of my first lick, my mouth found and covered her clitoris, sucking lightly as my tongue traced the alphabet.

Laying the backside of my tongue against her, I slid in reverse, from her top back down to the point of beginning. I played with her anus, licking her and attempting to enter her. I wetted her thoroughly there, occasionally supplementing my saliva with a generous dollop of her own moisture gathered from up above. 

Throughout she signaled her approval with occasional noises and the gentle rocking of her hips against my face while her hands tugged my ears.

I shifted slightly so her bottom rested against my chest and I reached forward with one hand and touched that thumb to her lips.

She made a point of wrapping her two hands around that wrist and pushing that thumb deep into her mouth. My sensation was wet, warm suction. I knew I was as deep as the webbing between my thumb and first finger permitted. I pressed, trying to reach deeper. She toyed with my thumb, biting carefully. A few slides in and out and over again, gnawing, grating teeth and an active tongue and I withdrew from her mouth and slid easily into her anus. Four fingers of my hand beneath her and one thumb inserted into her. I gently rocked that thumb in and out a few times matching it's motion in her mouth a moment earlier. 

I felt her tense for a moment, but quickly relax and sink a bit further into my lap. I watched her hands find her breasts. She squeezed them and kneaded them and rubbed them. From time to time she switched to her nipples, pulling and tweaking and twisting. Fascinating is the word that popped into my mind. She wasn't always doing with her left hand what she was doing with her right. I lowered my mouth to her clitoris and licked and sucked for a few moments while concentrating my eyes on her hands as they worked her breasts, each hand operating independently of the other. I wonder if I can do that, I pondered. I filed the thought for later exploration.

My tongue went back to work, licking up and down between her labia. Probing her vagina, lapping her clitoris. All the while Teri was making her approval well known by slightly escalating motion and sound. 

"Bite me," I heard. Somehow I knew it was a command. 

My mouth encircled her clitoris. My teeth found her small, sensitive nub, and began gently scraping back and forth against it. Her hips generated a bit more movement. My lips touched her clitoris and my teeth bit down against the inside of my lips causing pressure against her. 

"No, use your teeth." 

Complying, my teeth replaced my lips and closed directly against her. Top teeth against the top of her clitoris and bottom teeth against the bottom of her clitoris. I slowly closed the gap between top and bottom and begin gnawing on her. Her reactions begged for more.

Her hips began moving again. Her hands found the back of my head and pinned me against her. My teeth continued their not quite microscopic work on her clitoris. Nibbles as I lightly bit down on her while pulling my mouth gradually away from her and pushing it back again. Scraping motions as I held my teeth in place and moved my head forward and back. 

More sounds, guttural, yet approving. More hips. More pull against my head.

I bit harder. She jumped as much as one on her back can jump and I heard, "Again, again."

I did it. Gnawing harder. Over and over and over. Biting down on her. Sliding my teeth against her until she escaped my grasp. I found her again and again and each time I bit down she bucked her hips against me and screamed her approval. I knew she was close. I continued. My thumb began penetrating her anus in time with my teeth against her clitoris. Her hips continued thrusting. Her throat continued generating incredible sounds.

"Now, now, now."

Her head was rolling side to side. Her fingers were stretching her nipples and twisting hard. Her hips were rising and falling, bucking against my face. Her voice was screaming and suddenly I was treated to an explosion of nectar. The remarkably sweet taste of peach struck me full on. I planted my mouth against its source and lapped at her juice as quickly as it flowed from her. Teri was in a frenzy: her hips bucking; her anus pulsating against my thumb; uncontrolled sounds escaping her mouth. I sucked and lapped as fast as I could, trying to keep pace with her cum.

Gradually she slowed and I followed suit. My teeth no longer touched her. My tongue began applying soothing relief were my teeth once bit. Another collapse against me and Teri was finished. I withdrew my thumb. She closed her eyes and I slowly continued licking at my leisure, both to cleanse her and more importantly to satisfy my own craving. She was still.

Five minutes later, ten minutes later, it doesn't matter, her hips began slowly moving against my face. I didn't change my pace, but smiled at her as her eyes opened. 

"Hi Jake. Welcome to my home. May I get you something to drink?"

"Hi Teri. Thanks for the welcome. You have a very nice home, but I'll pass on the drink right now. I've just enjoyed quite enough for the moment."

"Did you like it?"

"Quite tasty actually."

"Oh? Does that mean I'll be able to offer you another drink later?" she asked, feigning innocence at her thinly veiled reference. 

"I do tend to get thirsty frequently Teri."

"I'm beginning to like you Jake."

There were so many possible comebacks that I just smiled into her face.

"Is it your turn yet Jake? I do want your cum in my mouth you know."

"Yes Teri, I think it's my turn now."

We untangled ourselves. She stood and offered her hand. I accepted, she pulled and I stood. 

"Follow me. My son's asleep upstairs and I don't want you to awaken him." 

"I'll be quiet," I promised.

"I doubt that Jake. I doubt that very much."

She led me across the living room to a set of stairs leading down and into a finished basement. White walls framed a medium sized console TV, with a cable box and a VCR on top. Her computer sat on a desk, faced by an office chair. A sofa, a rocking chair, a bookcase and a couple of tables all surrounded a red woven area rug. A few eclectic pictures on the walls, as well as knick-knacks on tables completed the room. That same sweet slow saxophone as I'd heard upstairs continued setting the mood.

Teri motioned to the rocker. I sat. She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and tossed it on the floor in front of the rocker. She knelt and reached for my belt. I'd lost my shoes upstairs somewhere. I don't think she'd worn any from the beginning. I sucked in my belly and she unbuckled. Her fingers found the button above my fly and she slid it through its buttonhole. Those talented fingers next found my fly and I was unzipped.

"Lift," she ordered.

I did.

She tugged from my ankles and I was without pants.

A smile lit her face. "White cotton briefs. Somehow I knew that Jake."

"I hope they're appropriate for the occasion Teri. I thought black silk might be a bit brazen for a first date."

"Wear the black silk next time Jake. I can take it."

Lifting my eyebrows, cocking my head and giving a wry smile, I managed, "Yes M'am."

"Lift again."

I, of course, complied again as a pair of deft hands stripped me of my skivvies.

There I sat, in a rocking chair, in a strange woman's basement, naked from the waist down. I must not have worn socks that evening. My shirt still was on and buttoned to the penultimate button. She still wore her short little dress, but it was unbuttoned three times at the top and completely wrinkled from our upstairs escapades. We must have looked quite the pair.

Now I was 48 years old on the first evening I sat in that rocker. I knew from our conversations that Teri was 33, fifteen years my junior. I was in pretty good shape, being an active tennis player who still could keep up with the good local high school talent. 5 - 11, 180, most of my hair left. Originally it had been red, then brown as an adult, now it was greying gracefully. Teri likewise appeared to be in good shape. In fact, she reminded me of Martina Hingus, not as Martina looks now, but as she looked then. About 5-4 I'd guess from the extended hugging. Maybe 110 or 120. Not skinny, not fat, just right. Oh, and don't forget the thirty-eight D twins she'd so proudly introduced to me. In truth had Teri not first brought up the issue, I never would have thought about trying to assign a number to their size as I'm not much into size issues. Likewise, I'll not disclose my size, except to say that I seem to be adequate.

Anyway, as Teri pulled my skivvies from me, Ole Hector rose to the occasion and immediately stood tall, saluting her efforts. Yes, I know it's sophomoric to name one's penis and you can snigger if you wish, but Teri did smile and seemed to understand as she played along.


Damp Panties



Author's notes:

I would like to take the time to apologize in advance for a slight unorthodox opening chapter. It is basically a rambling introduction to an intimate friendship between Joshua and Michelle. I plan for chapter 1 to actually be a flashback between Michelle and her new lover. From chapter two onward I plan to explore the chaotic friendship of a guy and a gal with benefits rooming together while going to graduate school.

An Introduction

His name was Joshua Townsend. He was a twenty-five year old student entering his second year of graduate studies. At the present moment he was seeking his Masters in computer science. His time was evenly divided between his credit load and the research necessary for beginning a working draft of his thesis. It was the ability of machines to rewrite code through the implementation of learning neural networks.

What, however, was pulling more and more time from his schooling was his current (live-in) girlfriend, Michelle Casanova. The two met during his first year of graduate studies. In the beginning the two of them had just been friends. Oddly enough, they had met because of proximity of their living arrangements. The two at the time were living in campus housing, in a nontraditional student dormitory (on different floors).

 (How it all began) 

The two had got to talking one day. He had held the elevator in the lobby for her, it was rainy outside, she was soaked (as was he), and two had struck up a conversation about the weather. Over the course of the next few weeks, the two would seemingly run into each other at odd intervals. In time, they would become close, but remained just friends. This was because of her living arrangement at the time.

Michelle was a bi-sexual girl, though she considered herself to be mostly a lesbian. She, however, did not fit the stereotypical image of what Joshua thought a lesbian should look like (either butch or lipstick). To him she was just a girl, and seemed no different than any of his previous girlfriends. She was by no means an activist; she came from a somewhat conservative family. In the spring semester, however, her world would come crashing down around her. The girl that she had been seeing, Monique Morrison, would leave her for another woman. The woman was an anonymous blond of Nordic ancestry who played the part of an ice queen towards both Joshua and Michelle. A wall of separation became apparent and the friendship of Monique was lost in the transition.

It was during this time that the two of them became a little closer. They went out drinking a couple of times. He was not a big drinker and neither was she, however. They mostly used this time to scout for potential fill in mates for her. In less than subtle ways she gave hints at her need for companionship. It wasn't until about their fourth date together that she finally revealed that she was not a lesbian, but actually bi-sexual, but not all that experienced with men.

Little more was said of her wants from the previous night. At the time he had believed her confession to be spurred on by her cognitive state. She had been somewhat drunk, had come on to him, and actually made him very uncomfortable (though, truthfully aroused). The next day when he confronted her about, she did confess that she was mildly attracted to men. She, however, downplayed the nature of her confession somewhat. The two of them remained friends.

During the summer months, she spent an equal amount of time looking for a roommate and a lover off campus. She desperately wanted to leave campus housing behind her. From their brief correspondence by email (he had been visiting his parent's at the time), it became obvious that she had met several women, but none of them turned out to be the "one." It was somewhat subtle that she had been sleeping around, but he did not have the courage to confront her about it. Instead, he left hints about possibly coming and rooming with him until she could find a place to stay.

He had moved out over winter break into an apartment. It was a single bedroom, with a study (that could be converted in another bedroom). It was on the eleventh floor, on the bus route, and a bargain. He had got the information necessary to apply for the unit through a friend in the department. The cash necessary had actual come from a previous settlement during his undergraduate years. It basically was hush money that had been paid out for somewhat unethical behavior that he had partaken in. It was by no means an illegal activity, but the large payment allowed a certain individual to keep their dignity. In response, he had originally tried to decline the money, however, when it became obvious that he had little choice, he had taken it and invested it. At the time he had been twenty, a second year sophomore, who was confused, and in the process of making a major change from psychology to computer science (his father had been a psychiatrist).

Returning to campus around the end of July, it surprised him somewhat to find that she was willing to take him up on his offer. During the first weeks of August he helped her (with some friends) move into his place. She did not have that much furniture, though she did have a lot of clothes, books, and other personal items.

The spare computer room that he had been housing old hardware, mostly servers and other obsolete ware in was moved to a friend's place. With the computer hardware now gone, her room was essentially identical to his. Her room was a little longer, however. The room had housed a coffee table, sofa, and a single end table at the far end of the room. It surprised him when she requested to keep the furniture.

Moving in, she than placed down a massive rug. On top of this she positioned a queen size bed, which she had just purchased. A nightstand with a black compact flight went to the right. Overhead, he installed a ceiling fan, and than she proceeded to jam as much clothing into her closet as he believed was possible. As for her entertainment lifestyle, she had very little. Her only items were a Black Mac Book, iPod player (nano for running), and an iPhone. She, however, did enjoy watching his 42" LCD HDTV, mostly because it housed a three-way digital turner, and had an attached X-box 360 gaming unit. Surprisingly, the girl was quiet addicted to online gaming, mostly of the fast shooting-um-up first person games.

The gravity of his situation did not hit him until the following weekend, a good two weeks before classes were scheduled to start. That evening she had come out of the shower wearing only an ivy white pair of jockey hi-cut panties and a long sleeve sweat shirt. It was evident that she was not wearing a bra because of the way her bust strained against the material. Up until now, she had been very modest around him. This was the most that he had seen her undressed, and she was by no means even semi naked. At no point had she even tried to position any feminine toiletries in the bathroom beyond the typical shampoo, body wash, and facial soaps and cleansers. Not a tampon or vibrator insight, which made him a little more comfortable, but yet at the same time, worried him some too. He wondered if she was really all that at ease staying with him.

Strangely though, he felt his member swell for the first time, and it became clear to him that he was living an illusion. It was more of a lie than a figment of his imagination. Still, it was a reality distortion nonetheless. He was wasting money, to rent a nice place, and for what? To impress a girl that saw him as nothing more than a kind of wingman to escort her downtown as she barhopped and hooked-up with other chicks.

He had noticed a startling change in her behavior pattern upon moving in though. The bar scene had virtually disappeared. She still went out, a little more than he was comfortable with (mostly himself, he was more introverted). She, however, rarely got drunk anymore. Further, she never brought girls home; at least not to spend the night.

Coming back to the present, he noticed that she was starring at him. She had noticed him giving her the eye. He dipped his head, blushed a little. He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait," she called after him.

Turning around, he eyed her once more. He was mostly taking in a fleeting view of this gorgeous girl that was rooming with him. Joshua was no slouch. He was just less than six feet tall. He had a chiseled jaw, high cheek bones, deep blue eyes, and a killer smiled that was enhanced with his pearly whites. His frame was just over two hundred pounds, lean and muscular, but very compact with a thirty inch waist. This was mostly due to his previous conditioning.

She, however, was a bombshell, not the blond variety either. She was of Hispanic heritage. Her hair was black, long, and straight. Her face was embraced with high cheek bones, pouty lips, and deep brown eyes. Her skin was dark, but only mildly more so than his. He did not know her measurements, but guessed that they were something in assessment of 34d-24-35, though he could have been off by a few degrees. Still, while she was a hottie, and worked hard for her body (daily running and bi-weekly freestyle swimming); what had originally attracted him to her was her personality. She was a flaming flirt, but in an unusually conservative way. It was hard to explain, but he just felt drawn to her whenever she was around him. Not even for intimate reasons, but just to observe the nature of her fluid sexuality that oozed out of her sensuous body.

A very pregnant moment of silence passed between them. "Yes?" he inquired.

"Did you like what you saw?" she coyly inquired. He noticed that she was biting her lip a little as she uttered the words.

"Huh?" he was dumbfounded by the straightness of the question.

"I think you know what I mean," she remarked.

"Well...ah, sure, I think you're body is...well," he uttered, barely thinking.

Grabbing onto the counter, she positioned her body against the bare wood of the cabinets, and in the very next motion hoisted herself up. Sitting on the counter, he got a fairly good view of the hi-cut panties she had on. It was becoming apparent that she was neither drunk, nor high. Michelle was clearly aroused though. It was a playful sort of arousal, it was by no means passionate, and her mannerisms by no means signaled her intentions.

Another uncomfortable pause came between them, but before he could speak again, she cleared her throat. "Tell you what, if you show me yours, I'll show you mine," she said in a very husky voice.

She was playing with him and he knew it. Still, he enjoyed the openness of their conversation. This was a slightly different side of her, a side that she did not expose that often. 

In the past, however, brief, he had dismissed her somewhat awkward advance as being under the influence of alcohol. When no reference was made the following day, he often concluded that he was right, and that when she got drunk, she got horny. It did not matter if it was a guy or a girl, she was after all a professed bi-sexual. Though, she had not dated men recently, her last boyfriend had been during her freshman year of college. Now she was sober and a wanton. Welcome to the club, he thought.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea, you are after all," he trailed.

She glared at him. "What, a lesbian?" Not waiting for a reply, her face turned back into a smile, and she calmly remarked, "Come on Josh, it will be fun." Pause. "I haven't seen one in a while, and it is obvious that you would like to see mine."

He was still taken back. "So you want to see my...penis, and in return I get to see your," he stopped and his head motioned below.

"Nope," she responded. She guided his eye contact back up her face and placed the palms of each hand under her bust. Enhancing her bust, she smirked a little. "No pussy, but you can see and maybe touch my twins."

Stupidly, he found himself soon agreeing to her little game. In the living room part of their shared apartment, he watched as she removed her sweatshirt. Underneath she exposed a beautiful pair of breast. She was very well endowed, though he now known they were fake from prior conversations. Still, her surgeon had done a marvelous job. Letting him touch them, she was amazed at how sensitive his hands were on her.

"Question?" he mumbled.

Pause. Her eyes met his. "Yes," she stated. She felt the authority of the situation; it kind of gave her a new sense of power.

"When did you get them done again?" he asked. He had honestly forgotten due to the amount of details she had told him about her life over the past two weeks; it had been a markedly more personal nature than when they had just been friends.

"Just after I graduated from high school, though I did have them redone after my sophomore year of college," she calmly, in a matter of fact voice informed him. She was very good at teasing him, and the two of them knew it.

Taking a seat on the coffee table, she looked at his crotch. He knew that she could see that he was very erect. Still, she motioned for him to remove his black shorts. He paused, a little mortified. He was not nearly as well endowed as her. His penis was fairly average, though it did have a slight bend that some women seemed to enjoy, and was mildly thicker than the typical dick.

"I'm not sure that this is a fair trade," he mumbled.

She made eye contact with him again, after having eyed his nether region. "Well, than you should have thought about the deal that you were making...now off with the pants please."

Mortified, he got up enough, and in one sweeping motion, he tugged them down. Her eyes traveled down. She was in awe, and he was sort of wondering why. He was typical guy. Joshua was a little less than six inches. His penis was a little thicker and had a slight bend to it, though it neither trait was all that uncommon.

"Can I touch it?" she inquired.

He paused. "Sure, I guess," he responded. He was a little unsure of his statement though. In truth Josh was pretty aroused and a couple of strokes were likely to set him off. Luckily for him, however, her touch was very gentle. Almost too gentle, she was handling his prick like a piece of china. It than occurred to him that she might not have that much experience with guys. He had just assumed that she had slept with her fair of men earlier in her life and not brought up her experiences for a number of reasons. Though, thinking back it became evident to him that her talk was mostly centered on gals, if anything, guys seemed to mystify her. They were very foreign to her.

Taking her hand away, she conjures a phrase together (probably without thinking much), "My last girlfriend (talking about Monique) used to use a strap-on at times, but it never felt like yours...the way it pulses, that is so fucking cool!"

He was now utterly at a loss. Why was this so new to her, he thought? "Michelle, you have had other men in the last, right?" he suddenly inquired.

"Huh?" she paused. "Ah...yeah, in the past, but it has been a while," she coyly stated.

In truth he did not know whether was telling the truth. He really had no way to measure her experience, but based on her recent actions, he was beginning to have some doubts.

 (The first few weeks of school...)

The two of them had begun their classes. She had increasingly become a little friskier around him. At times this would tantamount to some flirting, and at others a little touching and feeling. They never kissed or embraced really. It was just some friendly touches.

He further noticed that she was no longer as conservative around him. It was not uncommon to see her in some kind of lingerie or underclothing; sometimes she even went topless. She would often notice his erections and comment in rather vague terminology about what she saw. This would often leave him embarrassed.

Finally, he also noticed a change in the way she perceived their shared living arrangement. She was now more comfortable showing her side of life. This meant that the laundry often had her panties, bras, and slips lying around (waiting to be washed). Her magazines, professional journal were everywhere. She had even taken up to trying to feminine his place a little. The final change, probably the most personal had been the slowly progression of toiletries into their shared bathroom. Now along with his razor kit and body spray was her equivalent items. She, however, slowly brought in some more personal items as well. It began with a couple of tampons suddenly appearing and within a week had transitioned to a small supply of feminine products below the sink. He had not really objected. In truth he found the settle ways in which she had schemed to place them within their bath as rather cute.

The only change that was not made to reflect their joint lifestyle was that the two of them kept separate phones. They had separate lives after all. He still saw an occasional girl, and she seemed to bounce from one girl to the next. It was surprising how many bi-sexual girls there were on campus. Now, however, she occasionally would swing by with them. Surprisingly, few of them took offense to her living with a man (even when she explained he was straight).

 (A night in early October) 

He had returned home early from a short evening of classes. His professor had been out with the flu, the seminar, which amounted to nothing more than a loosely tied together lecture, had been put together at the last minute by a fellow graduate student, who was a PhD candidate. It had been on the development of a usage microkernel for computer operating systems. In truth, it was a very boring lecture. Further complicating his notebook that night, his mind was elsewhere. The night before he had walked in on her, she had been on her cell-phone talking to a new girl friend. Her name escaped him at the moment. Michelle had wanted to know for some time (a little over a week) if she was interested. Her call had basically been to ask her out. 

He had overheard some of their conversation in the hallway. She had talked about needing to get her pussy licked. Apparently, it had been a while. He concluded that most of her recent attempts with other girls had flamed out. By her line of talk, it seemed she had not gotten laid since sometime in the early fall. It became clear that they were making some sort of plans.

Later that night, he had awakening to some groaning. Believing that something had happened to Michelle, he sprung from his bed, and not thinking entered her bedroom. She had left the door ajar. What he found was not a scene of pain but one of passion. Well, lust in actuality. She was in a fetal position. A vibrator, rabbit style was loosely held in her finger-tips. When she saw him, she was a little worried at first, but this quickly turned to annoyance. Apologizing, he quickly left. Some ten minutes later, she came out. Her silk, black chemise flaunting her curves (now he was annoyed). In the bedroom, she had been in her panties and topless.

She calmly explained to him that she had gotten a little caught up in the moment and things had gotten a little out of hand. She didn't really explain herself further, she did, however, leave him with a fleeting reference to her body being on a little bit of a rollercoaster. He of course took this to mean multiples. They talked for a while, however, just when things began to get interesting her new friend called. That night he attempted to masturbate his worries away, but could not manage to do so. He needed some air. A late night trip to campus was what he needed. He had some research notes to look over, and his procrastination over the past few weeks had delayed this.

 (Two hours later) 

Returning home, he noticed that she was home (someone had gotten the mail). Entering, he found her to be with her new friend. They were on the sofa. It looked like he had walked in on a make-out session. He started to excuse himself, when her friend, Jessica Hines got up and began to excuse herself. She needed to get to work. Michelle tried desperately to get her to stay a few more minutes. She, however, insisted that she needed to get going.




Damp Panties



He of course was somewhat at fault for this. He had entered and brought the two girls back to reality. Annoyed, Michelle retired to her room for a few minutes. He heard her going through her closet.

Coming out several minutes later, he found her to be wearing the same dress that she had been wearing before. Her walk and eyeing him was sexy as hell. In truth, she was beautiful even when she was annoyed or upset with him. Right now she looked royally pissed. He had taken away from her something that she urgently wanted. It was than that the two of them saw a unique twist of the situation. He realized that she was now wearing panties (or a different pair) because her skirt (even dress really) had panty lines. She within a few moments of him realizing this noticed his erection though his cargo pants.

"You know, you owe me one from last night?" she coyly stated, a smile approaching her face as she passed him on her way to the kitchen sink. Taking a glass, she filled it, and turned. Taking a sip with her big pouty lips, a smirk crossed her face as he registered a blank expression.

Further silence followed between the two of them, "I didn't really see anything, you were kind of already done before I entered the room, and again, I am really sorry for that."

Pause. She lifted her face up to the overhanging ceiling fan as if to contemplate her response. "I'll tell you what, forget I even mentioned it." She put down her glass and began to walk past him. He of course tailed after her. She stopped, and his pelvic region ground into the small of her back. She smiled, turned around, and with a pout on her lips whispered, "Can't I just take a peek." She was so close; he thought he might kiss her. She didn't. Instead, she took his erect member into her hand. This time, she was not as gentle. Worse, he was very worked up. It had been a bad last half a day. He smelt her perfume and thought he saw some signs of arousal. Before he could get a hold of himself, he felt his penis begin to give way. It trembled and he had to adjust, locking his PC muscles for all their worth not to ejaculate, then and there. She sensed this, and slowed her motions. A coy smile broke across her lips.

"Did you just...almost... you know?" she teasingly inquired.

"Yes," he hissed.

Pulling her hand out, she simply stated, "I'm sorry." Coming up close to him, she tried to hug him, but he managed to keep her at a distance. With his head now spinning, he managed to pry himself of her, and take a seat. She joined him on the sofa. This wasn't helping. He was still hard. Visions of images having her go down on him orally and impaling his dick went through his head. Frustrated, he excused himself to the bathroom.

Forgetting to lock the door, he should have expected what came next. His pants were down, and he was just beginning to establish a rhythm when Michelle burst into the scene. She was startled by what he had been doing, but than a mischievous grin came across her face.

"Can I help you with that?" she inquired, not making face contact with him.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he panted.

Pause. "Please, I'll be a good girl."

"Okay, fine," he mumbled.

Taking possession of his erect piece, she began to slowly move her palms across it. She was massaging it with her palms. She was not all that experienced, but he knew that she had been doing a little homework. Likely, she had seen some gay or straight porn on the internet. She followed this with some finger of his wood. She paid close attention to his scrotum and back nerve. Most of the pleasure, however, was reserved for the head of his penis. Her ever so soft, but firm ministrations continued for a good ten minutes. Eventually his body could take no more. He began to tense, he puffed and panted a few times, and he proceeded to let loose. Joshua ejaculated into her left hand, while her right one cupped the base of his shaft. It was so forceful, it almost hurt. She did not support him properly and it sort of spasms all over. When he eventually finishes ejaculating, she drops her hand, amazed at the fluid in her hands. Studying it for a moment, she casually than walks over, turns on the sink and washes her hands.

"That was kind of neat," she said in a sexy voice. She formed her lips in continued inquisition. She seemed to be amazed at the mild semen that was still spilling out and his shrinkage as well.

"I take it that you are down for the count?" she inquired, almost panting out the words. He shrugged. "That is so cool," she said. She began to handle his less than erect member again. He was aroused, but just too tired for another erection. He was spent. 

"My first orgasm is never usually so forceful, honestly, it never is." He looked at her. She glanced away, embarrassed slightly. "Well, I usually have multiples...the first is usually never so final."

"I am sort of jealous, I would love to be able to have true multiple orgasms," he stated.

A long moment of silence fell between the two of them. "What do you have to be jealous of, you've got this lovely piece of hardware, which allows you to even pee standing up. From what I hear your orgasms seem to be pretty automatic and the first orgasms is almost always a knockout. There is a definitive beginning and end point and it is all so visible. I should be the one that is jealous. Why do you think there is so much penis envy in the world? Have you ever heard of cochy envy?" 

He thought of responding, but held his tongue and did not press the issue. Instead, he calmly restated, "Well no, I guess I had never thought of it like that," The truth was he had. He had always kind of been jealous of girls for being so sexual, and her one, a practicing lesbian nonetheless was telling him otherwise.

She looked like she was in the process of saying something else when their doorbell ran. Startled, she told him she'd get the door while he finished cleaning up. Leaving him, she went to answer the door. Within moments, he heard the voice of Jessica. She had returned. Taking his time, he tried to wait it out as long as possible. When he did emerge from the bathroom, he saw that Michelle was in the process of leaving.

"I'm going out for a while Joshua, don't wait up," she laughed. He didn't. He was just too tired and a little numb from what had just transpired between the two of them.

 (Another day, early November) 

The two of them had been friendly since. She, however, was in a relationship with Jessica that was becoming more serious with each passing day. The petite, sporty brunet seemed to know how to bring out the woman in her. Michelle seemed to at times almost glow after returning from a night out with her. He had even walked in on them being intimate a couple of times, though they had not been in very compromising situations. It usually was nothing more than some deep kissing and caressing, though he did see some brief tribbing with their clothes on at least two occasions.

It therefore did not surprise him to find themselves in yet another compromising circumstance when she arrived home unannounced. She had planned on spending the night alone with Jessica. They had gotten their schedules mixed up (yet again). 

It had not been as embarrassing and having seen him making love to his girlfriend (well, in truth, she was more of a classmate with a kinky side). She had walked in on them with his girlfriend on top riding him out in the throes of passion. He had not been as in the moment, and had seen Michelle peaking in. Loosing the moment, he faked an ejaculation as best he could (he was getting somewhat better and it didn't hurt he was wearing a condom). Excusing himself, he left her in bed. She was nowhere to be seen, however. Returning to his room, he tried to put Michelle out of his mind.

His girl complained that he had cum too fast. Not wanting to take her again, for fear that she might realize that he had faked it; he proceeded to go down on her. After one climax, they returned to love making (fucking really) with her in a prone position and him pistoning in behind her. Within a matter of minutes he got his rocks off only a brief few seconds after she had her second orgasm. The contractions were so forceful that they drove him out of her, and he made somewhat of a mess on her back side.

 (Another day, mid November) 

The girls were engaged in a little tryst. Jessica had been getting eaten out. Her legs were wrapped around Michelle's head and she had been bracing herself for a big bang moment. It, however, was now gone. He was left with her now mostly hiding her legs around Michelle's head. Michelle and Jessica were looking at him. Shrugging his shoulders, he apologized and went into his room. He shut the door behind him. He would have returned to campus but it was a rainy mess out. 

Walking past them, he saw Michelle just shack her head. She was not annoyed, just confused on how they were getting their timing so messed up. Her girlfriend, Jessica was mortified. She had her hands over her face to hide the embarrassment.

During the next few minutes Michelle tried to get her girl relaxed again. So was, however, successful. Jessica was not comfortable being eaten out on the sofa in the living room. When she offered for them to move their actions into the bedroom, she declined as well.

Peaking around his bedroom door, he saw Jessica, who stood about 5'4" with b-cup breasts and a slightly slender figure pull herself from Michelle's emotional and physical vice gripe. She rubbed the space between her legs a little. It was well trimmed but had a patch of coarse, dark hair just above her pussy lips.

"Are you sure you don't want me to continue?" Michelle almost pleaded to Jessica.

She shook her head. "I just don't feel comfortable doing it with him here."

Pause. "Oh great, I get you off...a few times and you return the favor by walking out on me. What about me, Jessica?" she raised her tone.

Embarrassed, Jessica began to get dressed while looking over at his door. He had ducked out of sight just in time. From the back side, he got a view her buttocks as she wiggled into a pair of jeans and sweater. She went sans panties but not a bra.

Moving to the door, "Maybe tomorrow we can hook-up." They embraced. They kissed. He felt kind of soar.

Turning to his door, she stated coldly, "You can come out now."

Returning to the living room, the two exchanged a muted greeting and began to talk about their days. In the process of doing so, he watched as she began to strip away some of her underclothing. It began with her bra. Pulling her shirt up, she unhooked it and tossed it into the laundry basket. Not at all risky given that her back was turned to him, and he had seen her topless on countless occasions since his first exposure to her nude breasts.

Shedding her panties from her skirt, she than proceeded to toss them into the clothes basket next to her bra, his toss was awkward though, and her panties just sort of hung there, on the edge of the clothes basket. Not at all sensing this, she passed by the clothes basketball and uttered, "I am going to go change into something more comfortable."

Within the next moment a bit of synchronicity happened. She entered her room and at the very same moment her panties fell to the floor. Not thinking he went to pick them up. He noticed they were kind of sexy, some kind of micro-fiber with high trim of lace on a petite pair of bikinis. Holding them, he noticed they were a little warm in the cotton paneled crotch. The wetness had bleed entirely through the panel, something that was not at all common for his girlfriend's, who rarely got all that wet (outside of her vagina).

He was so preoccupied that he never felt her return presence; it therefore startled him when he heard her clear her throat.

"I believe those belong to me," she stated with a smirk.

He handed them back, and she took them. "Sorry, again, sorry for everything, Michelle," he responded.

Pause. A mischievous grin came over her, she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you were just curious."

He returned the shoulder shrug. "Kind of, I've never seen a girl get that...ah, wet." In truth he had been exposed to her panties on countless times, but thinking back, never after she had just taken them off. She had a clothes basket in her room after all. 

"I can at times; the truth is it doesn't happen often. I'll get wet but not like this," she calmly whispered. "There is a cure for it..." she trailed. "Now all I need to do is go find a cure to my madness." "Maybe a nice long shower will do me some good," she mumbled to herself, leaving. He knew that she was being funny, so he did not bother inquiring anymore. Maybe he could talk to her another time he taught.

 (A complete synopsis of events prior to the present) 

In early December their relationship took a more intimate turn. She broke off relations with Jessica after a heated argument. During this time, she spent several nights alone. One night we played a little truth or dare, things got a little carried away, and we ended up by mutually masturbating themselves. There was no touching, but it was a start. She got to watch him ejaculate, forcefully for a second time, and I got to see her actually do it. She used only her finger tips, she took forever, and she only had a single climax, but it was the most beautiful sight he had seen in years. Afterward, the talked some, and she vented her frustrations about Jessica.

Over the course of the next few days, they experimented a little more. The second time, she masturbated him, and he returned the favor. Afterward, while talking she sort of fingered her pussy to a second orgasm. Afterward, they kissed for the first time. More kissing and caressing followed after he gave her some time to sort out her feeling in the kitchen. They returned to her bedroom and made out off and on most of the night.

The next morning she woke up bright and early. Finding her in the kitchen getting herself a cup of coffee, she wanted to know between sips if he was any good at giving head. Puzzled, he looked back at her moving into the living room. "Muff dives," she stated. He shrugged. Opening her legs she simply uttered, "Let's find out." 

So he did and surprisingly she loved it. Afterward, she explained his approach as being good, but different from the girls she was with. He was more aggressive and she got off quicker. Over the next few days he ate her out countless times, and lost track of the number of orgasms he gave her. She absolutely craved oral sex.

She, however, was not as comfortable returning the favor. She did give it the old college try, however. Her inexperience was sexy and with time she got a little better at it. She never did become a master at it. She did give incredible hand jobs though, often with the aid of an instrument like a freshly worn pair of panties or some other feminine accessory. Sometimes, through her expertise attention, she could get him off multiple times over a rather short period of time. He was, however, no match for the multiple orgasms that she could have (though it didn't happen all the time for her, and at times she couldn't get off at all).

The following week, she ended her relations with Jessica. By the end of the week, the two of them were planning to have sex. They mostly did a lot of talking, kissing, and idea brainstorming. The big day finally arrived a day before his birthday. They made love on December 20th.

He had expected her to be vastly experienced. She did not really show it, however. Eating her out prior, Michelle was on the verge of orgasm when she stopped him. Encouraging him to enter her, he took her from behind. In the doggy position she went off in a matter of only moments and he was not far behind. Afterward, while relaxing, they kissed and caressed each other.

When he felt up to it, they had another go round. This time, with a numb penis, she rode him. She worked at him for what seemed like forever, until he managed to orgasm again. Afterward, while kissing she did something a little strange. She basically rode his knee to another orgasm. The best way to describe it was Michelle just ground away at his upper thigh for a longer period of time, unexpectedly stiffened, wailed, and collapsed into his arms.

Over the coming weeks, her lack of experience would eventually show. Still their relations were intense. Often she would introduce lesbian aspects into their sexual encounters. The first being her thigh grinding (his past girlfriends had either used toys or fingered themselves off during sex, if they needed too). A second usual sex act was a reverse 69. Finally, kind of kinky one night she had attempted to do him in the anus with a strap-on. Surprisingly, she was pretty experienced with a penis, but while the sensations were pleasant, he could not get over the fact that she was using a strap-on and he needed her to give him a hand job from behind to finish himself off.

There time together had been pleasant, if not hot and heavy. It, therefore, came as a surprise to him to return one weekend and find her avoiding him. He tried to kiss her but she basically brushed him aside. She looked a little confused. Thinking back he seemed to place a girl leaving the apartment that looked a little out of place. She was a raven haired beauty.

Entering her bedroom, he snooped around some while she was in the kitchen making her (and him) so left over Chinese dinner. It was than that he smelt the familiar scent of pussy. Strangely, she had covered it with some kind of odorizer. This was unusual behavior. It was not uncommon for her to masturbate prior to him getting home, but she usually met him at the door, or at the very least did not try to hide her action. It was obvious that she was ashamed of what she had just done. His suspicions than turned to the girl that had just left the apartment complex. Further, he had found Michelle in the bathroom tidying up when he had first walked in. She had been unusually distant. She seemed preoccupied or worried. There was diffidently something else or someone on her mind.

It was than that he saw them. A pair of panties was partially sticking out from under her stacked pillows. Like someone had pushed them away as an afterthought. Taking hold of them, he stretched them out. They were about her size, but not her type. He didn't know how to describe it, but they felt kind of foreign to him. Like he knew that they belonged to another woman. She generally did not wear panties with a floral print. It would have been a little too feminine for her taste. Putting them to his nose, he inhaled and found that they were only slightly moist, but the fragrance was an unfamiliar one.

It was than that he heard a shriek. When he turned, he saw that she had walked in on him. Making eye contact with her, he showed no sign of emotion. He saw that her eyes than began to tear, turning away, she mumbled, "Sorry, I am so sorry Josh." He was a little numb, but he did not find the events that had transpired all that unexpected.

Having tossed the panties to the bed, he slowly emerged from her bedroom. He found her on the sofa. She was sitting with her legs tightly pressed against her, and tears were flowing down her cheeks. Seeing him, she looked down and whispered, "I didn't mean to cheat, I am so sorry!" She was almost shaking. 

"It really is no big deal, I'm not upset honey."

As if not hearing him, she simply stated tearfully, "I am sorry...Josh I just really like eating pussy." His only thought was to agree with her at an emotional level. He really did love eating pussy to. What he could not, however, understand was why he was not upset with her. She had essentially been dishonest with him, though they did have an open relationship. Still it did violate their agreement not to inform the other about the potential of other individuals.




Damp Panties



Placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, he sat down next to her, and she saw that he was not upset. Now he was really confused. "Baby, I know that you are into girls...ah, women, I kind of expected this to happen." Pause. "I only ask that you remain as honest with me as possible."

Her jaw dropped. She could not believe what she was hearing. She had not expected this. To be honest though, she had not known what to expect given that she had really been thinking.



Damp Start



Copyright Oggbashan April 2003

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

This story involves some of the characters in "The Silver Vixens" series although it can be read on its own. The women in my stories take control and love their men with mild bondage and sexual use of women's clothing. 

* * * * *

The first time I went away with Sheila I underestimated her. I still do. Now I know what to expect. Then I didn't.

We both play football. I play for "The Glossies" formally the Silverbridge United Football Club First Team. Sheila plays for "The Silver Vixens", the Ladies' First Team. I am a back and the largest member of the Glossies. Sheila is a winger and although she looks a reasonable size beside me she is actually only slightly smaller than Lisa, the Vixens' formidable goalkeeper.

I suppose it is because we talk the same language and have the same enthusiasms but Glossies and Vixens seem to pair up frequently and often marry. I am the son of such a marriage. Sheila is the daughter of another. We had known of each other from when we were very young. We went to the same schools and were equally unremarkable for achievement. Not that we are stupid. We just aren't in the same intellectual league as Lisa or Harold, for example. Sheila wasn't the girl next door but she might as well have been for the notice we took of each other. Until we were in our early twenties we were just friends who had known each other for ever.

That changed at one of the Football Club's dinner dances. We all went to them. I thought they were a bore but as team members we were expected at attend. All the older club members and former players came so they were usually fairly sedate occasions. No. Perhaps not so sedate. Even the older members were still fit, no matter what their age, so the dancing was much more lively than say the Chamber of Commerce's dinner dances.

This event was the end of season one which was usually the liveliest because the playing members, including the veterans, could break training and have a few drinks. I had a few too many which is very unusual for me because I have a large capacity. In my elevated state I asked Sheila for a dance. I think I thought, if I was thinking at all, that she would be a suitable partner because she is closer to my size than any other Vixen except Lisa. I rarely ask Lisa to dance. She expects her partners to dance well and expresses her opinion forcefully if she is disappointed. Even sober I am barely good enough a dancer for Lisa except for Rock and Roll. As I was that night I didn't dare ask Lisa.

Sheila looked closely at me.

"You are drunk, John." she said.

"Probably," I replied "but I would still like to dance with you."

She stood up.

"OK, John, but if you tread on my feet you will get my knee in your ..."

" ... I understand, Sheila," I interrupted. "I don't think I'm that drunk."

"You are the one at risk," she said "one false step ..." 

The first dance was a slow waltz. Sheila and I could have danced it in our sleep. The next was another slow number and Sheila fitted into my arms as if she was made for them. We stayed on the dance floor until the end of the evening. I realised that the girl I had known all my life was someone I wanted a closer relationship with. I walked her home and she invited me in for coffee. Coffee and a goodnight kiss was all I got except a date for next week.

From then on we became closer but I wasn't getting any more than a few hugs and goodnight kisses. I wanted to go further so one Thursday evening I suggested a weekend away together. To my surprise Sheila agreed but only if we went camping tomorrow night until Sunday evening.

I had never been camping. I had done many things but sleeping in a tent had never appealed. But in a tent with Sheila - that was very attractive. She told me to buy a sleeping bag and a backpack. She would provide everything else.

I bought a double sleeping bag. I hoped; but even if I did not get to share it with Sheila the single bags looked much too small for me.

I ought to have known better. I had forgotten that Sheila was a "Vixen". They always control their men. I was going away for a weekend expecting intimacy. Sheila was intending a very different weekend for me. I would be on her territory, where she understood the rules and I did not. It wasn't an equal match but when are "The Silver Vixens" ever fair when they want something from a man?

After work on Friday I loaded my car and collected Sheila. She loaded several bags into the car. The sun was shining brightly. It would not be dark for several hours.

"OK, John, aim for the A303. We are going to Devon via Exeter."

In a couple of hours fast but legal driving we were in Devon.

I tried to get Sheila to talk about camping. She would talk about anything else. After an hour as we drove West the weather got worse. By the time we reached Exeter I had the windscreen wipers on their fastest speed. The rain was so hard that it was drumming on the car's roof.

"A30 towards Okehampton," said Sheila.

After a few miles she directed me off the main road down some miles of very narrow lanes that seemed more like streams than roads. Eventually we came to an inn set in dark woodland which had a large car park out of proportion to the size of the building. We dashed through the rain so fast that I didn't see the inn sign.

In the bar there was a wood fire burning in the large fireplace. Yet this was nearly Summer. 

I bought drinks for us. We sat down at a table by the fire. After a few minutes Sheila went to the Ladies. On the way back she stopped to talk to the landlord. I couldn't hear what they said but in retrospect I realise he gave me a pitying look. He produced a book from under the bar. Sheila wrote something in it. I thought that she had decided not to camp and had booked us into the inn for the night.

I was wrong.

"Come on, John, drink up," Sheila said "we have a way to go before it gets dark."

I blinked. She meant it. We were going camping in this foul weather. I finished my drink.

I was going to get in the driving seat but Sheila stopped me.

"We are leaving the car here. Get everything you need out of the boot. Have you got a waterproof coat?"

"Er ... I think so." 

She was rummaging in my backpack while I scrabbled around under the driver's seat to find a torn old plastic raincoat. 

Sheila didn't laugh at me - then.

She put on a bright blue cagoule and matching waterproof trousers. I hadn't noticed before but she was wearing strong boots. I had driven in an old pair of trainers and had some street shoes in my pack. I left the trainers on.

Sheila threw masses of equipment at me.

"Put these in your backpack."

It was an order. I didn't argue. Sheila knew what she was doing. I didn't.

She had given me the cooking stove and its fuel, the pans, the food in tins and foil packets, the water container, the tent poles and pegs and other things. It was weeks later before I realised that what she gave me could get soaking wet without damage.

I rammed everything into the backpack. It barely fitted and was very lumpy. I had to tie the pans on the outside. Sheila loaded her backpack. There seemed to several bags left in the car. 

Even with the plastic raincoat I was getting wet. My hair was plastered down. Water was running down the back of my neck. As the water ran off the raincoat it soaked my legs. I was really miserable and we hadn't even left the car park.

"Ready?" she asked.

"I think so."

"Put the pack on."

I tried. I couldn't. She had to adjust the straps for me. Even then hard lumps dug into my back.

She set off up the lane away from the inn. I followed. After a hundred yards my trainers were squelching. I gritted my teeth and plodded after her. Shortly after we had left the woodland she climbed over a stile into a field, then another stile that led to open moorland. I could not see very far because the rain was so heavy. 

The moorland sloped down to a stream. We splashed through its cold water and climbed the hill beyond. Over the hill was another valley, another stream this time running through a boggy area. I nearly lost my trainers in the bog. Sheila was skipping across the bog as if it was dry land. I was floundering through it finding every soft patch of mud. After wading the water, which came up to Sheila's knees, we turned upstream. I was vaguely pleased that I knew we were going upstream. Perhaps I wasn't such a novice after all. That was the only consolation. I was cold, miserable, soaked through and really wondering if Sheila was worth this.

My pack seemed to weigh hundreds of pounds. Each time I moved it banged against me and it wasn't soft. Either a tent pole or peg was digging into me.

Eventually the stream stopped. Or I think it did. Everything was so wet that the grass was floating even when there wasn't a stream. We crossed the ridge and soon found another stream to follow. Even though I am fit I was getting tired. I was shivering. It wasn't really that cold but the driving rain and wind were incessant. I think we had walked about five miles before we came to the edge of a wood. A small stream joined the one we were following. Sheila turned upstream then jumped across it. I just plodded through the water. I could not get any wetter.

Sheila pushed her way through the undergrowth into the wood. There was a clearing with two walls of a ruined stone built house. She walked to the angle of the two walls and put her pack down on the turf.

"We are here." she said. 

I took my pack off with a groan. My back ached and I could feel the bruises from the items that had been banging against me.

"Leave the pack," Sheila said "I'll put the tent up while you get some dry wood."

Dry wood? In this rain nothing was dry, least of all me. 

I searched around in the woodland. I found a few dry sticks sheltered by fallen trunks but as soon as I picked them up the rain soaked them. I realised that I had an impossible task so I just grabbed any loose wood. It was nearly dark when I tucked the butt of a large branch under my arm and staggered back to Sheila with an armful of wet wood.

She had erected the tent. I didn't know how. I couldn't have done it, not in the driving rain. I looked longingly at it. It would be dry inside. I'd give almost anything to be dry.

Sheila poked her head out of the tent, keeping under the extended flysheet.

"There's a flat stone just there," she pointed "Lay a fire and light it, please John. You have got a lighter?"

"Yes." I growled. How could I light a fire in this weather? I piled the sticks together, tried to shield them with my plastic raincoat and flicked my lighter. I kept flicking until the flint was soaked from my wet fingers.

"Sheila!" I shouted. Her head popped out again.

"I can't light this ****ing fire! It's wet, I'm wet, my lighter's not working and I'm freezing!"

Then she laughed at me. I glared at her.

"It's not funny."

"Yes it is. Come here." she replied.

I squelched over to the lighted tent.

"Stop!" Sheila said as I came under the flysheet. I stopped.

"I don't want the inside of the tent as wet and muddy as you are. Take everything off."

"Everything?" I protested.

"Everything!" she insisted. "You are not coming in until you are naked."

I stripped. My clothes were plastered to me. I had to struggle hard to untie my trainers before I could get at my wet jeans and peel them down. I left my clothes where they fell. I shivered in the darkness.

"Get out in the rain and rinse the mud off," said Sheila. 

I stood and shivered in the rain as it sluiced the mud off me.

"Come here." Sheila ordered. "Sit down and push your muddy feet out."

I did.

"Now in you come."

I crawled inside the tent on to a large dry bath sheet. Sheila wrapped it tight around me. It was warm and felt wonderful. She took another towel and rubbed my hair dry. She fitted the towel round my head like a turban.

"Roll to your left," she ordered. 

I tried but I was too well wrapped. She had to roll me on to my open sleeping bag. 

"Keep still."

I couldn't do anything else. I was mummified in that bath sheet.

Sheila pulled the sides of my sleeping bag together and closed the zip. She slid her legs under the bag so that my head was resting in her lap.

"There," she said "isn't that better? You are warm and dry."

I was. How? My sleeping bag should have been as soaked as I had been. I had put it unprotected in my backpack which couldn't have kept out a light shower. The heavy continuous downpour I'd been through should have saturated the sleeping bag.

I lay there luxuriating in the warm dryness. Sheila was doing something beside my head but I was happy again. Then Sheila bent her head down beside me. She bit off a loose thread.

"I've done." she announced.

"Done? Done what?" I asked idly.

"Sewn you into your sleeping bag."

"What!"

"I've sewn you into your sleeping bag." she replied.

I wriggled my head. She had. The sleeping bag was closed around my neck. Even if I had my hands free I couldn't have squeezed a finger between the bag and my neck. I struggled uselessly.

Sheila laughed at me again.

"You aren't going anywhere, John. Relax. Aren't you warm and dry? Isn't that what you wanted? Or did you want something else this weekend? Me, perhaps?"

How could I answer those questions? Of course I wanted Sheila. Now she had me exactly where she wanted me to be. This weekend was to be on her terms or not at all.

"Well ..." I started.

"Well ..." she echoed.

"I would like ..." 

"I know you would. But will I let you? That is the question. I have made sure that I get the choice. What will you do for me?"

What could I say? Before I could think of an answer Sheila asked another question.

"Would you like a mug of warm soup before dinner?"

"What!"

"Soup before dinner?"

"Yes, please."

"Stay there. I'll get it."

Stay there? Of course I'd stay there. What else could I do? I was imprisoned in that sleeping bag. Sheila slid out from under my head and lowered it on to a bag stuffed with clothes. 

She was back in seconds. She propped me up against her and carefully fed me the soup. She drank hers. The rest of the meal followed from one pan with a spoonful for me and one for her. At the end she made coffee.

Now I was warm inside and out. I appreciated the feeling and I was laughing at myself. I had planned to seduce Sheila and failed.

Sheila saw me smile.

"What's the joke?" she asked.

"I am. I should have known better. I asked a Vixen away for a dirty weekend. It has started much dirtier and wetter than I imagined."

Sheila hugged me.

"Never mind, John. This weekend has only just started. If you give the right answer to the question I asked earlier things might improve."

"Which question?"

"What will you do for me?"

"Oh. That one. What do you want me to do for you?"

"That is the right answer."

"It is?"

"Yes. Shall I tell you what I want?"

"Yes, please."

"You have just eaten dinner. For dessert I want you to eat me ... until I have had enough."

"OK."

"OK? Just OK? No questions?"

"No. If you want to be eaten, here I am, willing and able."

"Thank you, John. Get ready."

Sheila lowered my head to the groundsheet. She pulled off her track suit bottom. She rolled up the track suit trousers and pushed them behind my head. A leg swung over my face revealing a cute shaven pussy which lowered gently across my face. I extended my tongue and started to work on her.

I tongued, nibbled, tongued again. Soon Sheila's pussy began to glisten in the lamplight.

I know that I am skilled at eating pussy. I gave Sheila the full treatment. I pushed her to the limit and let her wait. I brought her so close again and again. She was yelling for it before she had her first orgasm. After that first one I couldn't hear the rain beating on the tent. Either I was buried so deep between her legs that I couldn't hear anything, or she was screeching so loud that I was deafened.

Eventually she was satisfied. She lay down beside me and pulled my head against her bra-covered breasts.

"Thank you, John." she said. She went to sleep leaving me frustrated. I was wrapped and cuddled so well that I couldn't even get release myself. Sheila's breasts are wonderful. All I could do was nuzzle and kiss them through her bra. Sheila moved slightly in her sleep. I had more breast to play with so I played.

After a long while I looked at Sheila's face. She was looking at me. The devious bitch hadn't been asleep at all.

"That was nice, but aren't you frustrated?"

"Yes," I growled.

"I can't have you frustrated, can I? Hold still."

She produced a small knife from her pack. With a couple of passes she cut the threads holding the sleeping bag closed. She pulled the zip down to my thighs. I was still wrapped in the bath sheet. She loosened it until my erection sprang out.

"That's what I want," she said "You want me to have it too, don't you, John?"

I grunted. I couldn't trust myself to reply.

She ripped open a condom packet with her teeth. I winced as she rolled the condom down my erect shaft. 

Then she threw herself at me. She had been kneeling beside my wrapped body and then she straddled me. She impaled herself on my erection in one swift thrust. My back arched to meet her. Just a few short movements and I shuddered into a climax.

"Sorry John, that was too fast. The next time will be slower ..."

The next time? So there would be a next time. That was enough for me. Sheila unwrapped me before we spent the night wrapped in each others' arms and together in my sleeping bag.

The next time was as the light of a brilliant sunrise filtered through the tent. I awoke to find Sheila lying on me and I had already penetrated her or she had engulfed me. As it had happened while I was asleep I suppose she did it to me, not me to her.

Unlike the shattering explosion last night this time we made love slowly and gently, exploring each other with our hands and lips. After a long session of mutual arousal we began a slow crescendo towards orgasm. I restrained myself as much as I could to allow Sheila time but her first orgasm triggered mine a couple of heartbeats later. 

We lay together in that sleeping bag reluctant to start the new day but it would have to come.



Damp



She took a good long and moderately quizzical look at Hector, placed her elbows on the front of the rocker, tilted it forward, and leaned into me, her mouth next to my ear.

"My goodness. So he's Hector. He's been hard for an awfully long time. I think it's time to give him a bit of relief," Teri teased into my ear.

"I doubt he'll last long Teri if you begin doing what I think you're going to do," I responded looking into a face full of curly, dark blonde hair.

"Oh, and just what do you think I'm going to do?"

"I think you're going to engulf me."

"Engulf, you say. Hmm, that's an interesting word. Well, I am going to engulf you Jake, but not quite yet. Oh Jake, what's this little bead atop Hector's mouth? Do you think he's offering me something?"

"Watch him Teri. He's a tricky old guy. I wouldn't be surprised if he were offering you a bit of candy and you know what they say about taking candy from strangers."

"I know well Jake, but after upstairs I don't consider Hector exactly a stranger. I think I'll taste his candy."

Whereupon Teri grasped Hector in two hands, lowered her head and gave him a bottom to top lick, making certain to catch all of Hector's offered candy on the tip of her tongue. She then stuck out her tongue, showing me exactly what she'd collected from Hector and she then slowly slid her tongue into her mouth, slowly swallowed and then again opened wide her mouth, stuck out her tongue and proudly offered me a view of her completely clean tongue.

"Um Jake. Salty with just a hint of sweetness. Very nice. I'll bet I can get Hector to give me another bit of candy if you'd like a sample."

"I'm glad you liked it Teri. Yes, I would like a taste for myself."

"Open wide and stick out your tongue Jake." 

Those two hands of Teri's grasped Hector just a bit tighter, stroked down and then slowly back up a couple of times and there magically appeared another dollop of Hector's candy. Another bottom to top lick and Teri's tongue again picked up what Hector offered. Her tongue found mine, gave up her gift and now I mimicked her show and tell by slowly swallowing and then displaying myself.

"Um, just the right saltiness to compliment what you offered me earlier," I told Teri.

"I'm glad you liked, um, both of us Jake. Now let's try that engulfing thing."

Teri sat back on her haunches, a knowing little smirk on her face. Her two hands grasped my two hips and abruptly jerked them forward. Her face moved quickly toward me. Her mouth opened, slid over me, plunged downward and stopped what felt like about two inches from the bottom. She rested a moment and then began rocking those last two inches: forward to the bottom and back out two inches. With each rock forward I was treated to the exquisite sensation of leaving the open spaces of her mouth and entering the tight confines of her throat. With each rock back, I left her throat and reentered her mouth. 

The change of locations was remarkable. Her mouth, like her throat, was warm and wet, but unlike her throat, her mouth did not directly stimulate all of me. Of course I felt her, but not so closely as if I were in her vagina or in her anus where her walls would have held me closely and with movement, would have stimulated all of me simultaneously. Her throat, on the other hand, was tight and offered remarkable stimulation, especially at the moment of entry. It was like driving down the road and going over a small bump. My cock, upon entering her throat, encountered that little bump, went past it and suddenly was in a closed space of complete sensation with each minor movement. While in her throat, her chin added pleasure as it bumped my balls.

Well Teri was amazing. She hummed. She twisted her head from side to side. She pumped up and down forcing me into and out of her throat. 

Meanwhile, my hands naturally found her curls and wrapped them in my fingers. I tried not to control the movements of her head, but trying doesn't always breed success. My hips refused to remain still and attempted to mirror her thrusts and retreats. For the most part I was quiet, but a few sounds of approval did escape my throat.

It wasn't long before, "Um Teri."

Withdrawing me completely from her mouth, "Yes Jake?"

"I don't have long left," tilting my head and lifting an eyebrow.

"I know," she announced, smiling into my eyes. "Guide me."

No further response was necessary as Teri again leaned forward and took all of me in one gulp. She held me there as her fingers found my balls and began gently squeezing and stroking. My fingers, still in her curls, allowed me to lift her head and then force it back down as my hips thrust forward. My hands lifted and my hips retreated. My hands pushed and my hips thrust. And so on and so on and so on, as I fucked Teri's throat.

With each thrust and retreat, the sensations heightened. Little dots of constantly increasing pleasure twinkled on and off along the total length and circumference of me as I moved within her throat. I didn't speak, I just closed my eyes and concentrated on the few inches of me that were sliding freely within her throat. Even though I attempted to control Teri's head, she gradually outpaced me, forcing herself over my cock faster and faster than I dared move. She twisted and hummed and groaned and slurped and made noises I'd never imagined. I no longer controlled my own sensations. I was supposed to be fucking her throat, but I wasn't, she was doing it to me. Just at the moment I was about to lose all control and scream my joy, I thrust as deeply into her throat as I could and with all my might, held her head tightly against me. Her lips were buried in my hair. She attempted to withdraw, but I held her still. Her fingers slowly squeezed my balls. That familiar circle of tension from my cock to my balls to my anus closed and I shot. Once, twice, three times, four. With each shot raw noise flew from my throat just as raw, hot cum flew from my cock. With each shot my head jerked backward as my cock tried to thrust forward. My orgasm seemed to last forever.

I might have blacked out momentarily, I don't really know. The next sensation I recall was Teri's moving her mouth slowly back and forth over the head of my cock. Every now and then I generated a minor pulse as Teri continued unrelentingly. I remained hard for a while, but gradually softened. Teri didn't stop, but she did begin looking into my eyes as she moved over me. Her eyes told the story of joy and of accomplishment and of pride. Her mouth held her reward. 

Gradually the sensations began to grow again down there. But they weren't quite the same as before. These sensations contained a ticklish component, as though my cock were being teased by Teri's mouth. The ticklishness continued and expanded and before long I couldn't tolerate it any longer. 

"No more. Please."

She just smiled and continued.

"Stop! Now! It tickles."

She just smiled and continued, adding a bit of humming that threw me over the edge. I pushed hard and Hector, just a shadow of his former self, popped from Teri's mouth.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. But Teri could move and did. She climbed onto the rocker with me, placed one hand on either side of my head, tilted my head back and with her mouth still closed, mumbled, "Open up."

I opened mine and she, several daring inches above me, opened hers. I watched as a large globule of cum slowly stretched and then fell from her lips, scoring a bulls eye inside my mouth. She lowered her mouth onto mine and we shared a slow, salty, sensual kiss, one to which Crash Davis might have been referring when he ranted to Annie Savoy his preference for, "long, slow, deep, wet kisses that last for three days." My cum was in my mouth; it was in hers; it was in mine; in hers and so on until we truly shared it, swallowing and breaking the kiss.

"Umm, tastes great," Teri announced.

"Less filling," I countered.

"You know that you're not finished here big guy."

"I would imagine not."

Teri dismounted. I stood. Her fingers found the buttons of my shirt. Mine found the remaining buttons of her dress. Quickly we both were naked and gazing from arms length for the first time at each other's bodies. She stepped into a hug, arms around my neck, thirty-eight Ds pressed against my chest. I pushed Hector against her, my hands to her ass. And there we stood, her head turned sideways on my chest, as we rocked back and forth against each other in time with that sweet, slow saxophone.

Slowly Teri's hips began to move, not overtly, but just subtle little circles. Hector noticed and gradually he responded. He was far from engorged when Teri went to her knees and took him into her mouth once again. I watched in awe as a well manicured finger tipped in red found her opening, slid in and out a few times, moved in a few circles and finally emerged, glistening with Teri juice. That same finger moved directly to my anus and slid in without substantial difficulty.

She took her time, moving slowly at first and later picking up pace. Her tongue toyed with me as her finger remained mostly silent. Gradually her mouth resumed its former motion and began sliding against my cock. Both of her hands grasped my cheeks as her finger began mimicking the motion of her mouth. The sensations were exquisite. There's nothing quite like growing hard inside a woman's warm, wet, ever moving mouth, and I did. Before long Hector resumed his former stature and Teri stood.

"Where would you like me?" she asked, looking me in the eyes.

I looked around the room, but my eyes were drawn to the rocking chair. "There," I announced, pointing at the rocking chair.

I found a second pillow and placed it in the chair.

"Sit," I ordered.

She did and I kneeled on the same pillow that had padded her knees a half hour earlier. 

It was an old rocker. It sat low to the ground. Its arms and back were padded. Teri fit nicely into its seat. The pillow under her bottom slid naturally forward on polished wood to the edge of the chair. She spread her legs so they rested on the arms of the chair and in doing so, offered herself openly to me. I reached for the chair's legs beneath the seat and lifted. Teri's pussy followed the front edge of the chair and rose a couple of inches. I lowered my head a few inches and we met in the middle. A few licks told me how ready Teri was to receive me.

I allowed the chair to rock down, crawled the pillow beneath my knees toward the chair a bit, grabbed Hector and guided him forward. We touched and Hector slid into Teri like the proverbial warm knife through butter. Teri pushed herself forward just a scootch. I lifted myself just a bit higher, moved my hands and forearms to the top of the rocker's arms and began rocking. I rocked and I rocked and I rocked. Each time the chair rocked down, I went in. Each time it rocked up, I came out. I'd already cum strong once and I knew I now could last as long as I wished. The same was far from true for Teri.

Of course there were sounds, the moans and groans that accompany good fucking. Of course, Teri's forehead beaded up, glistening, not perspiring. Her head swung side to side as I now knew she was prone to do. 

She spoke words like "pussy," "deep," "full," "smooth," "fuck," and "give."

I spoke words like "cock," "large," "long," "pound," "thrust," and "take."

She called me a stud and a beast.

I called her a cock slurping slut and told her she was no better than a common whore.

Within a few minutes her breathing changed and became quicker. The motions of her head became wilder. Her sounds became louder and ceased being words. And then I felt it. I felt her squeezing me. Her muscles gripped me and pulsed, over and over again. Her hips rocked as I just kneeled there and continued moving the chair up and down. Tears formed in her eyes and wet her cheeks. I stopped momentarily, not knowing if I had hurt her. Wrapping my arms around her, I asked. She just whispered, "More."

And so it continued. Slow fucking in a rocking chair. To say Teri was multi-orgasmic would be like describing the Empire State Building as merely a tall building. 

She came a second time within a minute. I stopped. She wanted more. Another couple of minutes and again another few minutes after that. Each time I felt her muscles grasping me and pulsating around me. Each time I stopped momentarily and marveled at her. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and down her cheeks. Some found her mouth. Some didn't. When I could I leaned forward and licked a few.

I continued rocking the chair. She continued cumming. In all my experiences I've neither seen nor even heard of anything quite like what was happening before my eyes. 

To this day I believe Teri could have continued cumming all night and she might have done so, but I grew selfish. I wanted my own cum. Teri had been in that chair for at least an hour, cumming almost constantly, so it had been even longer than that since my cum. I knew I now could cum again if I concentrated on myself rather than on Teri. And so I did. 

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the colors and patterns I saw, lights and colors and shapes and streaks directly generated by the sensations created below. I adjusted slightly upward the angle by which I entered Teri, so the more sensitive bottom side of my cock grated against Teri at the bottom of her pussy and so my balls hit her anus with slightly more force as I thrust myself into her. I shortened my stroke so the sensitive area around Hector's head received greater stimulation. I announced to Teri that I wanted to cum. She smiled that sensual smile of hers and began rocking her hips, silently granting approval and urging me on. The light show inside my closed eyes grew exponentially. More colors. Lights flashed brighter. The sounds inside my ears grew to a symphony of raw desire. I wanted my cum. I needed my cum. I demanded my cum. 

My stroke lengthened, quickened. 

"I'm pounding your cunt you slut! I'm fucking you as hard as I can! Take me whore! Take all of me! Feel me thrusting inside you! Feel me growing! Picture in your mind's eye my huge cock filling you, pumping you, splitting you apart! Feel me using your cunt! You're mine! Feel my hot, scalding cum!"

My anus tightened; my balls constricted; that dizzying sensation swept from deep within my groin upward to my brain and I came. I shot deep inside her. With each wave I thrust as hard into her as I could. She matched my intensity, mashing her hips against me and screaming at the top of her lungs as her cum matched mine. Thrust, shoot! Thrust, shoot! Thrust, shoot! Over and over again. 

Tears streamed from Teri's face, her brow furrowed, her fingers dug into her breasts.

And finally there was no more. I continued sliding in and out of Teri, but at a gradually slower and slower pace. Her hips continued matching my motions. Hector began to lose his length and girth. We both calmed. Eventually I slid from her. Her hands immediately raced to close her lips.

"Lay down," she ordered.

I did.

She rose from the rocker and stood, hands still closing herself.

She moved toward me, one foot on either side of my head, toes pointed at mine. She dropped to her knees and lowered her pussy to my mouth. Before releasing her hands and opening the floodgates holding back my cum, she turned her head, looked at me and whispered two words, "Don't swallow."

Teri removed her hands from her pussy. She leaned forward, elbows on that red rug and found my cock with her hands and her mouth. Cum flowed from her pussy into my mouth as she licked me clean and I quickly followed suit. 

A short minute later she rolled off of me and onto her back. "Give it to me," she demanded.

My face found its place above hers, but unlike her an hour or so earlier, I didn't drop my cum into her mouth. Instead I dribbled a bit on her forehead. I dribbled a bit on her cheeks, on her chin, on her nose, on her lips. I dotted her face with cum until there was none left. I then straddled her chest, sat up straight, laid Hector between her breasts and using only my fingertips, rubbed my cum into her face. She could do no more than lay back and smile. I leaned forward then and kissed her, another long, slow, deep, wet kiss.

I rose and told her to stay. I padded upstairs, found a bathroom and a couple of towels. I wet one thoroughly with the hottest water the tap would give. I kept the other dry and returned to Teri. Using the hot, damp towel first, I slowly and tenderly dotted Teri's face clean. I dried her and moved to her groin where I cleaned again, wiping carefully before drying. My tongue gave her a quick taste, noting how damp her pussy remained. I turned, sat next to her and announced her as fresh as a lilac in the spring as I began stroking that lush curly hair while the slow, sweet saxophone applauded in the distance. 

Yes it's a true story, without embellishment. I saw Teri three more evenings. Our lust each time was as grand as what you've just read. We even liked each other. No, we're not together now. After four encounters I knew I could not become involved in her life because her son already had a father, I already had a daughter and I wasn't looking to become a step father. Over the years since then, Teri and I stayed in touch via the internet and once in a while on the telephone. I've met her twice for lunch, just to talk. She initially had some bad times, but more recently some good times. She's happily married now to a guy who sounds like he really is her prince. 

For those of you who become incensed about people's failure to practice safe sex, I'll add that birth control wasn't an issue because I'd had a vasectomy many years before I met Teri. Additionally, in our early internet conversations we'd disclosed that we'd both been without partners since recent, negative HIV tests.

Finally, for the size critics: yes, she did say thirty-eight Ds. Yes, I know how breasts are measured and I'm certain she did as well. No, it's not likely her chest was thirty-eight inches around if you measured anywhere but atop her breasts. Believe me when I tell you that as far as I was concerned, if she could tolerate my naming my cock Hector, she could assign whatever size to her breasts as she choose.

Please feel encouraged to comment and to vote. I'll respond to any message from a reader leaving an address.