6 comments/ 54336 views/ 19 favorites The New Neighborhood By: KajunKitty I awoke Tuesday morning, my body aching all over. The relentless unpacking of boxes and crates had predictably taken its toll. Every muscle was sore, and sleep ceased to be the great rejuvenator it once was. I needed a hot shower and coffee -- lots of coffee. Maybe two more days of unpacking and we could move through the house without feeling like mice searching for cheese in a maze of cardboard. We had moved to Shreveport the previous Friday, August 4th. My husband, Fred, accepted a position as head of security for one of the riverboat casinos and was working twelve-hour days getting oriented into his new job. The house is beautiful and spacious, but in a typical suburban setting where homes are so close you can count the slats on your neighbor's venetian blinds. It would take some time making the adjustment, especially after living in rural Tennessee where our closest neighbor was a quarter mile away. Damned! No coffee. We drank the last of it yesterday, and I neglected to go to the store for more. I undressed and slipped into the hot mist of the welcome shower cursing myself under my breath for my forgetfulness. Maybe one of the neighbors would have some coffee I could borrow. I stood beneath the invigorating rain allowing the warm spray to gently massage my face. The water cascaded down my neck, over the slopes of my breasts, falling in twin streams from my erect nipples to the shower floor below. After lots of soap and a good rinse, I turned the shower head to the pulse setting and let the stinging force of the water pummel my aching back, shoulders and arms. Like a thousand tiny needles, the high-pressure water droplets battered my skin and the aching muscles underneath. It was like liquid acupuncture. Stepping out of the shower onto the bath mat, I grabbed a towel. The full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door allowed me to take stock of my middle-aged body. My blonde, shoulder length curls framed a round face making my brown eyes the focal point. . A few small wrinkles at the corners of my eyes suggested my age of 42, but there were no bags, and the eyes were still large and still bright. My skin was relatively soft and supple, and at least so far, without blemishes. My breasts were larger than I wish -- 38D, and admittedly had started to sag a little, but the light pink areolas were perfectly round and smooth, with half-inch nipples only slightly darker pointing straight ahead and staying always erect. My belly was flat, but a pinch along my side divulged a hint of the dreaded love handles. My legs were long, predictable for a frame of 5' 8", but I always thought too skinny, especially for a woman with such large breasts. I considered a breast reduction several years ago, but my husband wouldn't hear of it. Of course he didn't have to carry them around all day. He always told me they were beautiful. I thought they made me look like a cow with bloated udders. My pussy had very small lips. The skin around my pussy just disappeared into the fold of my slit below a small, triangular patch of blonde pubic hair. I turned sideways to check out my butt. The cheeks were still firm and round. A quick pinch told me they were still pretty tight as well. All in all, my body looked O.K. for a 42 year-old, but I told myself that I needed to do something about those love handles. I dressed quickly, throwing on a navy blue sweat suit, a pair of white, ankle-high socks and New Balance running shoes. No bra. No panties. I was only going to be gone a minute. My hair was still damp, so I donned my husband's Cincinnati Reds baseball cap, grabbed a small, disposable, Glad Ware container and headed out the door in a noble quest for coffee. I stood on my porch and studied the houses on either side of mine. They were all designed alike -- typical of a suburban neighborhood, so I evaluated the cars parked in the respective driveways. To my left was a cream colored Lexus sedan, to my right, a dark blue Toyota 4-Runner, backed into the driveway as if to facilitate loading or unloading. The porch light was still on at the Toyota house. Thinking they may still be asleep, I chose the Lexus. The mailbox proudly displayed the name, "Wilson," as did brass lettering above the porch, and a green, turf mat in front of the door. "A little self-absorbed," I thought to myself. I pressed the illuminated doorbell and immediately heard chimes so loud they sounded like Big Ben striking the hour. Instinctively I looked around for someone to accept my apology, embarrassed at having broken the morning silence so rudely. Within seconds, a bespectacled woman in her fifties opened the brown, wooden door with a genuine friendly smile and spoke through the glass of the storm door. "Yes?" She asked. She was dressed in a very becoming business suit. Her hair and face looked as if she had just completed a session with a Hollywood make-up artist. Every hair was in place and her cream colored skin looked as soft as corn silk. "Mrs. Wilson?" I asked, confirming her identity. "Yes," She answered. "I'm Mandy Trainor from next door," I explained. "We just moved in and I'm afraid I've let myself run out of coffee. I really hate to bother you this early in the morning, but could I borrow enough coffee from you to make a pot?" She opened the storm door with a genuine smile. "Please, come in, Dear." "Thank you," I replied as I stepped inside, my shoes sinking into plush, light green carpeting. The house was spotless with everything in place. It looked almost as if nobody actually lived there, but rather it was just a showpiece. The pleasing fragrance of apples and cinnamon permeated the air. The house was silent, save for the gurgling of a large aquarium where a dozen brightly colored, exotic fish glided lazily through sparkling water. "Gail Wilson," She introduced herself as she presented her hand. "Nice to have you in the neighborhood, Ms. Trainor" I extended my hand. She grabbed it, pulling me slightly toward her and began pumping vigorously like a politician during an election campaign. Her hands were strong but soft. She reminded me a lot of Barbara Walters, but with dark hair that showed a few wisps of gray, and very large breasts that strained the buttons of her white, silk blouse. I was sure she was fifty, give or take a year, a very attractive, well-bred woman. "Please call me Mandy," I offered, still shaking her hand. "O.K. Mandy, I'm Gail," She smiled, finalizing the handshake with a single downward thrust. "I'm so sorry, Dear, I don't drink coffee. My husband does when he's in town, but he drank the last we had when he was home, and since he won't be home for another three weeks, I haven't been in any hurry to get more. Have you met Brenda Richardson?" "No," I answered. "She lives on the other side of you," Gail volunteered. "She drinks coffee by the gallon. I'm sure she'll have some to spare." "Her porch light is still on, so I wasn't sure anyone was up," I explained. "She's up," Gail assured me, "She's always up early. Works out every morning. As a matter of fact, she may not hear you at the door, because she plays her music pretty loud when she's working out. Let me call her for you." "No," I said, not wanting to put anybody out. "You don't have to..." "Nonsense," Gail Interrupted. "Brenda won't mind at all. Trust me." With that she picked up the phone and pressed a single button. The speed dial took over and after a short pause I heard half of the conversation. "Hello, Brenda?" "This is Gail." "Fine." "No, nothing's wrong, Dear. The woman who moved into the Stevens' house is here. She needs to borrow some coffee and I'm fresh out. I'm sending her over to you, but I figured you were working out, and I was afraid you wouldn't hear the doorbell with your radio blasting that stuff you generously call music." She chuckled as she offered the sarcasm, then closed the conversation with, "O.K. I will" "Bye." Gail placed the receiver back into its cradle. "Brenda said she just made a fresh pot of coffee and you're welcome to join her." "Thank you so much," I said sincerely. "Well you're certainly welcome, Dear," She replied. "If you need anything at all, just come over. Maybe I can be of more help next time." I left thinking how nice the people in my new neighborhood must be. I walked past my house to the home of Brenda Richardson. As I reached for the doorbell, the front door flung open wide. I was greeted by a tall woman with dark red hair wearing a white terry cloth bathrobe. A matching cloth belt cinctured her waist. She was much too energetic for that time of the morning. Her coffee obviously wasn't decaf. "Come in. Come in," She welcomed me excitedly. "I'm Brenda Richardson. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Make yourself at home." She led me through the living room into the kitchen, where a small, white, wrought iron table with a glass top displayed two cups of steaming coffee, each in front of a matching wrought iron chair. A small, pewter cream pitcher and sugar bowl occupied the center of the table, augmented by a tempting assortment of pastries. "That's Half And Half in the pitcher," Brenda pointed out, "I have the powdered stuff if you'd rather have that." "No thanks," I said, "Just black for me." The coffee was delicious -- rich, black and hot. I could feel the caffeine slowly sweeping away the morning cobwebs. The pastries looked delicious, but I remembered the love handles in the mirror and fought back the temptation. Brenda Richardson was a statuesque, buxom woman -- 43 years old, 5' 10", and with breasts even larger than my own. She had a very small waistline and a flat tummy -- no doubt the result of her daily workouts. Even through the loose fitting bathrobe her curvaceous body was apparent, and she had curves o'plenty. Her oval face was quite lovely, framed by long, flowing, red hair. She had bright green eyes, full lips and a few freckles scattered about. "Wanna take the grand tour?" Brenda asked. "Sure," I said, "Why not." She led me through the house pointing out the obvious -- living room, bedroom, bath, etc. The layout of the house was much like my own. I figured most of the homes in the neighborhood were simply carbon copies of each other, with barely enough differences to let the developer sell each one as, "Unique." The house had three bedrooms -- hers, her son's, who was away at college, and one which she had converted into a workout room with state-of-the-art equipment sufficient to rival a modest sized health club. The house was neat and clean, but at least it looked lived in -- unlike Gail Wilson's showpiece. She lived alone except when her son was home from college. She had divorced her husband eight years ago after she caught him with his secretary. "They're married now," Brenda confessed, "But we're still friendly. I call him every now and then when I'm real horny and need a good servicing. It sort of feels good being the other woman for a change." "I guess I'll have to keep an eye on my husband," I laughed. "Oh no. Nothing like that," she assured me, "It's just my version of revenge." As we stood inside the workout room, I told Brenda of my self-evaluation in the mirror earlier and my pledge to do something about the love handles. I pinched an inch for effect. "You should come over and work out with me," Brenda insisted, "It's always more fun than working out alone. I start at 6:30 every morning and go till about eight." "Sounds like fun," I told her, "6:30 is just about the time my husband leaves for work." "It's a date then," She dictated, "I always leave the patio door ajar in the morning so the cat can go in and out. You come whenever you get ready. Just come on in. I probably won't hear you if you knock." "Do you work out in a bathrobe?" I asked, "Seems pretty bulky for working out." After all, I had interrupted her workout, and she was wearing a bathrobe. "Oh no," she assured me, "I work out in the nude since I'm usually alone, but I wear a body suit if someone is here with me." We went back to the kitchen and finished our coffee. Brenda offered me some to take with me. I thanked her but declined her offer, assuring her I would go to the store later for more. * * * The following morning I went to Brenda's house at 6:30 sharp. The sliding glass patio door was open about six inches as promised, so I let myself in and made my way back to the workout room. The classic rock station was blaring out "Slow Ride," by Foghat on the radio. Brenda was sitting in the butterfly machine, her arms moving the padded levers back and forth in time to the music. When she saw me she abandoned the butterfly and jumped to her feet to turn down the radio volume and welcome me. Brenda wore a bright red body suit that reinforced my earlier observation that this woman had a body to die for. The suit fit her like a second skin and every curve was enhanced by the look. Her massive 40DD breasts made her look top heavy standing straight out and sagging very little. Her half-inch, semi-erect nipples were perched proudly out front and slightly upturned. I could easily make out every small bump on her large areolas through the thin material. Captivated by the sight of the sexy body before me, I found myself wishing the body suit was gone. I felt a little confused. For the first time since college, I had the desire to see the naked body of another woman. For a week or so we repeated the morning ritual; a ninety-minute workout in body suits followed by an hour or so of coffee and small talk. Each day I became more and more obsessed with my craving to see Brenda's nude body. Accordingly, I found myself scheming to find a way to fulfill my want. Suddenly, Sunday night, I had a brainstorm. I called Brenda and told her something had come up. I would have to forgo my joining her Monday for our morning workout. She understood and hoped we could get together Tuesday. My plan was to show up anyway and tell Brenda a last minute change allowed me to join her. I knew she usually worked out in the nude unless she had company, so if the plan worked as designed, I would walk in and catch her exercising in the buff, and at least get a brief glimpse of the nakedness I was dying to see. She would probably quickly cover herself and run to put on her body suit, but I would tell her if she felt comfortable exercising in the nude I would feel at ease joining her. I would wear my bathrobe with nothing underneath, and tell Brenda I was in such a hurry that I decided to change at her place. That should sound plausible whether she was naked or not, but I would have my body suit just in case she was uncomfortable exercising together in the buff. I was proud of myself. It sounded like a good plan. She would never suspect a thing. Monday morning I showed up fifteen minutes later than usual. I carefully opened the patio door as quietly as possible. Stepping inside I could smell the now familiar, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Silently making my way back to the workout room, I could hear, "Stairway To Heaven," by Led Zeppelin playing on the radio. "Now that's appropriate," I said to myself. Brenda was standing in the middle of the room wiping her forehead with a towel. Her red hair was damp and beads of perspiration made her naked body glisten under the bright lights. She was breathing rapidly -- her heavy breasts rising and falling with each breath. She had been working hard. My eyes instinctively focused on her crotch. A small patch of neatly trimmed red pubic hair punctuated a large pussy below. Unlike me, she had fat pussy lips, dark pink and swollen. The puffy lips folded into a wide slit that started just below her pubes and disappeared under her torso. It looked like a half-open hot dog bun ready for a wiener. When Brenda saw me standing in the doorway, she reacted with a big smile -- her green eyes sparkling. She made no attempt to hide her nakedness, nor did she look surprised to see me. "I hoped you'd come," She said. (So much for my secret plan) I took a few steps into the room and stopped, still admiring Brenda's lovely body. For a few moments we stood across the room from each other. The silence was deafening as we stared into each other's eyes smiling. She slowly moved toward me, stopping a mere foot away. She took the body suit from under my arm and tossed it onto a chair. She then grasped the sash of my bathrobe and tugged on both ends releasing the tie and letting the ends fall loose. She reached up and gently slid the robe over my shoulders. I felt my arms slide through the sleeves as it fell to the floor behind me. A million thoughts raced through my mind. Was I sure about this? Had I gone too far? Did she really want to see my body too? Would she think I was fat, or ugly? I was naked. I was vulnerable. I was so nervous I could feel myself trembling. I was the one who started this, but for the moment at least, I wished I hadn't. I think Brenda sensed my fear. She reached up and touched my cheek with her hand. "It's OK." She sounded reassuring. I could only respond with a nervous half-smile. She took a couple of steps backward, studying my body with her eyes. I could feel my face quickly redden; embarrassed by the tense situation I had created. "Wow," she exclaimed, "You're beautiful." Brenda moved back toward me. Our large breasts touched and I felt an electric shock surge through my body. I thought my knees would buckle as I felt my nipples grow harder pressing against hers. She held my face in her hands and gently pulled me toward her brushing her soft lips across mine. I was non-responsive as my mind still raced. I wanted so much not to want her, but I did.. I wanted her desperately. I wanted her in every way one woman could want another. Brenda moved her mouth back toward me once more, this time letting her lips linger on mine. Almost unconsciously I raised my arms up behind her back and pulled her toward me pressing my lips hard against hers. My trembling had stopped. Any reservations I had were now dispelled. I slowly opened my mouth preparing to thrust my tongue into hers. Brenda followed suit and our tongues met in the middle. Apprehensive but determined, we carefully explored each other's mouth like an observant spelunker cautiously entering an unfamiliar cave. Much too quickly the kiss was over. For a few seconds we stood silent, staring intently into each other's eyes. The want in Brenda's bright, green eyes was unmistakable, and I'm sure she saw the same in mine. I started to speak, but Brenda gently placed her index finger over my lips to silence me. She was right -- nothing need be said. I opened my mouth and captured her index finger between my lips sucking lightly. Bobbing my head, I let her finger slide easily in and out of my mouth while I sucked, never taking my eyes off hers as I slowly and deliberately mimicked the action of sucking a man's cock. Brenda pulled her finger from my mouth with a pop and placed it in her own mouth. She closed her eyes and slowly ran her finger in and out of her mouth as a soft moan escaped her. Brenda placed her hands on my shoulders and, touching me with only her fingertips, slowly moved her hands down my chest. Her touch was so delicate; it felt like a feather brushing my skin. My whole body was covered with goose bumps. Her magic fingers, still barely touching me, followed the contour of my sloping breasts, inching ever closer to my nipples. Rather than touch my nipples, however, she let her fingers slide around the sides of my large breasts until they were underneath. She then cupped my breasts in her hands and gently lifted the heavy orbs until my nipples pointed straight up toward my face. I could sense what she wanted me to do, so I lowered my head and licked across my nipples with my tongue -- first the right, then the left. Brenda pushed my right breast a little higher. I opened my mouth, wrapped my lips around the nipple and sucked hard. I could feel my nipple grow even harder in my mouth. She then pushed my left breast up and I repeated the process with the other nipple. I glanced up at Brenda. Her wide eyes told me she was enjoying this immensely. Wanting to please her even more, I clamped down hard on my left nipple, letting my teeth sink in around it. I removed Brenda's hands and the heavy breast seemed to defy gravity as I held it up with only the suction from my mouth. I held it there for 10 seconds or so, then opened my mouth and let the nipple slip out with a pop. My left breast fell, jiggling and bouncing a few times until it came to rest in its home position. The New Neighborhood Brenda took me by the hand leading me to the bench press in the corner. I suddenly became aware of the music again. "I Want To Know What Love Is," by Foreigner now played and I asked myself rhetorically if the D.J. had a hidden camera in the room. When we reached the bench press, Brenda placed her hands on my waist and pushed down coaxing me to sit on the bench. I readily complied and looked up at her as she towered over me. She bent down, her huge, pendulous breasts hanging like ripe fruit, and her mouth once again met mine in a long, passionate kiss. While our tongues played I cupped her breasts in my hands, gently pinching her nipples. This produced another soft moan from her, and I felt a small amount of self-lubricating fluid ooze from my pussy. Brenda broke our kiss and stood up again. Stepping closer she bent slightly at the waist until her dangling breasts were just above my mouth. I raised my head, licking across the nipple of the hanging fruit a few times, then slowly placing the it between my pursed lips, I began to gently suck on one of her dark red nipples. "Oh God, Mandy, Suck my titties hard, Baby," Brenda said in a voice a few notes higher than conversational tone. "Mmmm," Was my only reply as I sucked harder, like a hungry calf ardently suckling its mother, trying to pull more of her monster tit in my mouth, and alternating nipples so that each received equal attention. Brenda pulled the delicious offering from my mouth and knelt down in front of me as I sat on the bench. She grabbed her left tit with both hands and hungrily fed the massive mammary to herself. She was sucking so hard her cheeks became concave. It looked almost painful, but she was sucking like a woman possessed and obviously enjoying it. She popped the nipple out of her mouth with a smack and, bathing it with her tongue, moved it toward me as if requesting assistance. Being the benevolent person I am, I couldn't let a cry for help go unanswered. I enthusiastically joined her as we mutually bathed both the swollen nipple and each other's tongue. I thought to myself, "This must be heaven," But I suspected this to be a mere prelude to what lie ahead. Suddenly the uncontrollable aggression Brenda displayed while violently molesting her breasts disappeared as if she had flipped a switch, and her quiet demeanor returned. Slowly lifting my breasts, she wrapped her soft lips around a pink teat, and gently sucked on the swollen nipple. My breasts were on fire as she tenderly and skillfully nurtured each of them. Brenda abandoned my breasts and raised her head up to mine once more. Our lips found each other quickly -- another passionate kiss. We were trying to devour each other, but we were both breathing so heavy we had to come up for air after only a few seconds. Brenda then put her hands on my waist, moving me to the very end of the black leather bench. My bottom easily slid across the bench, aided by the slick wetness from my pussy that now covered the smooth leather. She turned me toward the end of the bench and moved around in front of me, touching my knees and slowly separating them, pulling my legs apart while my feet rested comfortably on the floor. With my legs open wide, I felt the cool air rush over my wet pussy. "Damn," Brenda exclaimed as she stared at my pussy from inches away, "You look delicious." She looked up at me and smiled. "Can I taste?" She asked. "Yes, please do," I begged. "Just lie back and relax," She smiled again. I lay back on the padded bench, staring up at the ceiling. My heart was pounding as I anticipated the moment when Brenda's warm mouth would contact the pussy that now ached for her. Brenda slowly inched toward me and I could feel her hot breath between my legs as she approached. I felt the tip of her tongue touch the area just below my pussy, then start moving up toward the opening. My whole body twitched when her tongue reached my slit, and Brenda slowly dragged the tip of her tongue across the opening until she reached the top. The sensation was amazing but strange. She was touching me so lightly I could barely feel it, yet the stimulation it produced was the most intense I had ever felt. It was the proverbial velvet hammer. After repeating this wonderful maneuver a half-dozen times, Brenda found the center of my open slit and plunged her tongue in as deep as she could. My body jerked and I heard an involuntary yelp come from somewhere deep inside me. Her tongue was inside me as far as it would go. She started bobbing her head in and out, her tongue plunging deep, then retracting. She was literally fucking me with her tongue. Suddenly she started humming at a very low frequency, adding a vibrating sensation as she continued to tongue-fuck me. Brenda guided her tongue to the top of my pussy. Finding the nub of my clitoris, she worked her expert tongue around and across the swollen bud. My heart was beating a mile a minute, my whole body was trembling, I was almost hyperventilating, and I was sweating profusely as I came ever closer to what was bound to be the most intense orgasm of my life. Seconds before the inevitable climax, Brenda abruptly stopped. Frustrated, I wanted to scream, "No, Please don't stop," but the words wouldn't come. I could barely breathe, much less speak. I could swear I heard her giggle, pleased with her torture of me. Why was she tormenting me so? Brenda grabbed my ankles with her hands and lifted them high above her head. Using her tongue like a spoon, she stuck her tongue inside me at the bottom of my pussy and licked up to the top, scooping up as much of my pussy juices as her curled tongue would allow. Still holding my ankles, she smeared the slick lubricant all around my ass hole with her tongue. I had never experienced anything like this before. The level of sexual pleasure was almost more than I could bear. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, Brenda let go of my ankles and moved her hands to my breasts, kneading and massaging the tit flesh while she continued to coat the entrance to my ass with my own pussy juice using only her accomplished tongue. I held my legs higher for her, giving her easy access to the object of her affection. With my hands I grasped my ass cheeks, spreading them apart, trying to stretch my anal opening wider for her. She started humming again. Nothing I have ever felt could come close to this. Without warning, she captured my swollen nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and pinched them firmly, simultaneously slowly pushing her tongue into my willing ass. For a second or two, I saw red and blue stars, then everything went black. When I finally regained my composure, my feet were back on the floor and Brenda was looking at me from between my legs asking, "You OK, Mandy?" "I think so," I answered hesitantly, "That was incredible." Brenda lowered her head again until all I could see was her beautiful red hair flowing between my parted thighs. She tightened her lips, seizing my clit between them and working her lips back and forth, slowly at first, then with ever increasing speed. She placed her hands on my belly and began to rub. I pinched my nipples hard, pulling them as high as I could, stretching each of my titties into the grotesque shape of an inverted funnel. I tried to tell her I was cumming, but all I managed was a barely audible squeal. The blood rushed quickly to my head, as wave after wave of true delight swept over me. Brenda stopped moving, just holding my clit between her clinched lips. My body quaked like an aspen tree and I felt a million needles sticking my body in unison. As my climax subsided, Brenda began slowly working my clit between her lips again. A second sequence of waves began crashing across my body. Ten seconds later it was all over. I was spent, shaking my head in what seemed to be a vain attempt to recover, and struggling to return my breathing to normal. I couldn't move. I lay paralyzed as if just attacked with a stun gun. It was wonderful. I opened my eyes to find Brenda's lovely face staring down at me and smiling, her lips glistening with the sexual juices she had so expertly extracted from my now satisfied pussy. With all the strength I could muster, I threw my arms around her, pulling her to me and locking her fem-cum drenched mouth to mine. My nostrils flared as I could both taste and smell the stimulating potion created by the delicate sweetness of her mouth wickedly mingled with the savory essence of my pussy. I pulled her down on top of me, crushing my breasts underneath hers and grinding our pussies together. I wanted every inch of my body touching her as I wrapped my legs around her butt, pulling her even closer. We broke the lengthy kiss and I saw the look of concern creep across Brenda's face. "What's wrong, Mandy?" She asked, spying a tear in the corner of my eye. "Brenda, I'll never be able to satisfy you like that." The tears were flowing now. "No, Baby, No," Brenda assured me, "You don't have to do anything. I made love to you because I wanted to, not because I expected something in return." "It's not that," I explained, "I want to make love to you. I want to touch you, and smell you, and taste you so much it hurts. Problem is I've never been with a woman before, and I know I'm not experienced enough to make you feel like you just made me feel." "Oh, Mandy, Don't think that," she consoled, "You do what you want. I'm yours to do with as you please -- as much or as little as you desire. Trust me -- it will be ten times better for me just because it's you." With that she kissed away the tears from my eyes. "Mmmm, salty," She joked, licking her lips and smiling. I managed a smile and a little giggle, pulling her mouth back to mine for another long kiss. We lay there for a few minutes, content with the soft touch of each other's body. "Your turn," I boldly announced, "But if there's anything you want me to do, promise me you'll tell me, OK?" "OK," She agreed. I unlocked my legs from behind Brenda's sexy ass and pushed her off me. Placing my hands on her waist, I gently guided her down to the fem-cum covered, padded, leather bench. She lay back in the same position I had been -- her ass at the very edge of the bench and her feet on the floor. I moved around between her legs, sitting on the floor with the swollen lips of her large pussy inches from my face. I could smell her sweet, musky fragrance and could see the thick, sexual juices oozing from within her. I wanted to skip the preliminaries and just devour her, but knowing I had to try and deliver the same level of pleasure she had bestowed upon me, I resolved to go slow and mimic Brenda's method. After all, this was my first time at this and Brenda's technique was certainly effective. I moved my face closer to her, opening my mouth, exhaling, and letting my hot breath flood over the area between her legs. The bloated lips of her pussy twitched and Brenda instinctively spread her legs wider. As she did, the cavernous gash slowly opened like a large clam reacting to steam, revealing the tender, pink flesh inside, moist from the natural lubricant that would soon be stimulating my taste buds. I placed the tip of my tongue to the area between her pussy and her anus, and slowly traced up one of her fat lips and down the other several times, barely touching my tongue to her skin. Brenda began to squirm. I looked up to see both her hands raising a heavy breast, trying to see how much of it she could feed into her mouth. I plunged my tongue into her abruptly. My nostrils flared as I reacted to my first taste of a woman's pussy. She was delicious. I could feel my mouth salivate from the newly discovered blend of flavors. Simultaneously I could taste sweet and savory. There was a hint of pungency, and yet it was incredibly mellow. For an instant my mind raced back to Wendy, my college roommate. I should have eaten her pussy when I had the chance. Brenda reacted to my sudden entry with a loud moan, muffled by the soft tit-flesh that filled her mouth. I began moving my head up and down faster, keeping my tongue inside and letting it bathe over her erect clit on each lick. Her muffled moans were getting louder. She clamped her mouth down hard on her breast, gnawing the nipple and sucking like a woman possessed. I knew she was getting close. Ten more seconds and she would be over the edge. Suddenly I stopped. Her moaning promptly changed to whining as she tacitly begged for more. Brenda let the hefty mammary fall from her mouth. I heard her giggle as she no doubt remembered the delightful torture she had similarly inflicted upon me. I placed my hands under her thighs and lifted her pretty legs till her knees were aimed toward her head. Brenda, sensing my next move, grabbed her butt cheeks with both hands and spread them apart. Her sphincter began to pulsate, puckering, almost winking at me in anticipation of the moment when my tongue would touch the large, brown eye. She didn't have to wait long. I started bathing the entrance to her ass with my tongue, now wet with Brenda's sex and my own saliva. For the first time, Brenda spoke. "Oh yes, Mandy, Lick my ass. It feels wonderful. I love it, Baby. Lick my ass with your tongue." Spurred on by the knowledge that she was enjoying this immensely, I stabbed my tongue deep into the dark ring. It opened instantly with no resistance whatsoever. I started pushing my tongue in as deep as I could, then pulling it out and sinking it deep again. Brenda was getting louder now. "Fuck me, Mandy. Fuck my ass with your tongue. Ram that tongue in my ass, Baby. Eat my ass. God, you do it so good." Listening to Brenda had me so stimulated I felt my own fluids oozing out of my pussy. As I continued to tongue-fuck her ass I had two fingers knuckle deep in my own pussy brutally shoving them in and out. Suddenly I grabbed Brenda's ankles and pushed her feet back to the floor. I raised myself up on my knees and latched my mouth around her hard clit, sucking the engorged member deep and attacking it inside my mouth with my tongue. Brenda screamed this time. She sprang up to a sitting position and clasped her hands behind my head, pulling my face into her crotch. A high pitched shrill escaped her as her whole body began to shudder. I felt a flood of pussy juices streaming down my chin and neck onto my breasts below. I opened my mouth wider to catch the flow, swallowing intently as my mouth quickly filled again with the savory and sweet pussy liqueur. Soon Brenda stopped quaking. She lay back, exhausted, but panting so fast I thought she would hyperventilate. I licked the last few precious drops of her woman cum from around her pussy and knelt down beside her head. "You okay, Brenda?" I asked. "No," She shot back to my surprise, "I'm better than okay. I'm ecstatic. I'm euphoric. I'm wonderful. You sure you've never done this before?" "Quite sure," I confirmed, "But if I had known it was like this, I sure would have." Brenda stood up and threw her arms around me, pulling me close to her, pressing our breasts together, and locking her lips to mine. In a long slow kiss we tasted ourselves as well as each other. "Wanna shower?" Brenda suggested. "I could use one," I agreed. "Let's go," She instructed, "Follow me." * * * A half hour later, freshly showered, we made our way to the kitchen for our coffee. Not bothering to dress, we walked through the house in the nude, still admiring the bodies we had just enjoyed. I loved the way Brenda's ass cheeks swayed when she walked, counterbalanced by the swinging of her big, luscious tits. As her ass swayed left, her tits swayed right, and vice versa. It was poetry in motion. We sat at the now familiar table in the kitchen - the wrought iron chair cold under my bare ass. The coffee had become stale sitting on the warmer so long, and after a quick taste of the bitter brew, Brenda opted to make a fresh pot. As the black liquid began to drip, filling the new pot, I spoke to Brenda, "You know I'm going to want to do this again, don't you?" "I surely hope so," she smiled, "We can do it every day if you want. It's the perfect finishing touch to a vigorous workout." I told Brenda I was surprised when I realized she wanted to be with me. "I didn't think you would be into making love to a woman, but it's obvious you've done this before. I've never been with a woman before now, and frankly I never thought I would. I came close once with a roommate in college. I really wanted to but I chickened out. Since I met you, though, it seems so natural. All I've thought about for nearly a month was seeing you naked, but I'm not sure I really contemplated what would happen after that. When you told me earlier that your ex-husband still serviced you from time to time, I just assumed you were more into men." Brenda laughed out loud. "Oh, I'm definitely into men, but not how you think. I like women for their bodies and men for their cum." Brenda saw the puzzled look on my face and continued, "It's like this -- I'm only truly sexually gratified with another woman. The level of passion and satisfaction we shared today, I could never experience with a man. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those, 'All men are pigs,' lesbians. I really like men, but no man has ever made me cum. Even when I was married, my husband never made me cum. I enjoy the company of men. It's just that the actual physical act of being fucked by a man doesn't do it for me. It's not a turn-off. It's just not a turn-on either. Occasionally I go out with a man. If he wants to fuck me and he's not an absolute loser, I usually let him. It's not that big a deal to me. It's actually kind of funny -- every man who fucks a woman, thinks he is giving her this unbridled level of sexual joy that she has been waiting for all her life, until finally she was fortunate enough to meet him and have all her sexual fantasies fulfilled. I usually play along. Men are actually quite fragile, you know. One thing I've learned about men over the years is that the more macho the man, the more easily his delicate ego is bruised." "Wow," I said sarcastically, "A great lover and a philosopher. I got myself a two-fer. I like that." "Oh, I wouldn't call it philosophy so much as observation," She explained, "More Will Rogers than Socrates. Anyway, like I said, I like men for their cum. What I really like is giving men head." Listening to Brenda speak so frankly, I felt the need to say something nasty, "You mean you like to suck dicks?" It was a rhetorical question, but I really did want her to elaborate. "Oh, yes, Brenda cooed. " I love everything about sucking a man off. I love the feel of a dick in my mouth. I love sliding it in and out past my lips and feeling it touch the back of my throat. If it's not too fat I can force it all the way down my throat. A man really likes that too. Then when he's getting close to cumming, he'll start bucking his hips. I just hold my head still and let him do all the work. He's basically fucking me in the mouth. Then his rhythm breaks, he'll start losing control and I know he's getting close. I usually take the dick out of my mouth and wrap my hand around it. I'll look up at him, slowly pump his dick a few times, and say something like, 'Oh, Baby, I want your cum. Give me all your cum. Shoot all your hot cum in my mouth and let me swallow it.' That usually pushes him over the edge. I stick his dick back in my mouth and just hold on. His dick will pulsate about three times, and the fourth pulse brings the first blast of that delightful liquid. The sensation and the flavors explode in my mouth like caviar. It's hot, and sweet, and salty, and pungent. It's silky, and creamy, and sticky. Every guy tastes a little different, but I love them all. Next to pussy, it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. I lock my mouth around the guy's dick and swallow hard and fast, trying not to lose a single, precious drop. Most guys are six-shooters. They give you six squirts of semen when they cum. Some guys are fives, some are sevens. I've met a few eights, a couple of nines, and one ten. My ex is a seven. You know, I think that's the reason God made men to cum in spurts instead of all at once in a steady stream - so we would have time to swallow." The New Neighborhood "Another dose of Philosophie a la Brenda?" I quipped. "I guess so," She said proudly, "Just makes sense to me." I was mesmerized by the blow by blow (pardon the pun) description Brenda was relating. She was becoming excited just talking about it. As we sat across the table from each other, still in the nude, I could see beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her eyes were staring off into space, lost in her erotic world of fellatio. She was squirming in her seat and her breathing had become rapid, her large breasts rising and falling with each pant. Her beautiful nipples were rock hard again, unconsciously begging for attention. I wanted to run to her, clamp my mouth around a nipple and just suck her tits, but I forced myself to resist. I wanted to hear more. "That's incredible," I said in amazement, "You actually count the number of times a man squirts?" "Yea, I always have," she giggled, "I don't know why, I just do." "And you say every guy tastes different?" I questioned. She answered as if she were tutoring me, "Yea, some are sweeter. Some are saltier. Some cum is really thick and creamy, some is thin and milky, but it's all incredibly delightful. I've wondered myself why each guy tastes different. I have a theory about that." "Oh, do tell," I teased, "Einstein, Eat your heart out." "I wonder if the taste of a man's cum is affected by what he eats. I have this fantasy about taking fifty or sixty guys, putting each of them on a strict diet, and sucking them all off every day. I would take copious notes and observe how the taste of each guy's cum changes with a corresponding change in his diet. I wonder if I could get a government grant for that." "Hey, the government spends billions of dollars on stuff a lot sillier than that," I assured her. "Get paid by the government to be a cock sucker. What a country!" Brenda drawled, doing her best impression of Russian comedian, Yakov Smirnoff. "So you think you could give a blow job to sixty guys a day?" I asked skeptically, "You ever tried it?" "Not sixty," She confirmed my suspicions, "But I once did thirty-one, and I could have easily sucked off that many more. Hell, I do twenty or more a couple of times a month." "No way!" I was becoming more doubtful now. "Way!" She shot back. "There's this guy over on Lesson Street, off North Kermit, who runs this adult video store. They have videos to buy or rent. They have a couple of big screen movies playing all the time. They sell toys -- you know, dildos and stuff, and they have these little private booths that play video loops. You put a dollar in the slot and the video runs for a few minutes. Then you put in another dollar if you want to see some more. Well the guy who runs the place lets me come in whenever I want and take over the last booth, the one by the back door. There's a hole in the wall between the last booth and the one right next to it. They call it a glory hole." "I know what a glory hole is," I interrupted, "I'm not totally stupid." "Hey, I didn't know," She apologized. "Anyway, the guy lets all the men in the store know that I'm back there and if anybody wants a blow job from a woman, it's free. So the guys come in the other booth and stick their cocks through the hole and I suck them off. It's good for everybody. Eddie says it's good for business, the guys all get a good blow job, and I get to taste a lot of cum." "How do you know who's on the other end?" I was curious. "That's the beauty of it," Brenda clarified, "I don't. I don't want to know. It's not about the guy. It's only about the dick and the cum. I don't know him. He doesn't know me. He just knows he's getting one helluva blow job. While I'm sucking one dick, I'm already anticipating what the next dick will be like. I never know what's next. It may be long or short, fat or skinny, white or black, circumcised or natural. A dick comes through the hole. I put it in my mouth. I suck it. It shoots cum in my mouth. I swallow. It's gone. Another dick appears. Simple as that. It's really cool. You should come with me sometime. As a matter of fact, I'm going next week on Thursday. Wanna go?" I declined the invitation, "I think I'll pass." "Suit yourself," She said with some disappointment. "Anyway my son, David is coming in from The University of Tennessee Friday. He'll be here for a week so I guess I'll be spending most of my time with him," I explained. "Jason's driving up from LSU too, but he'll spend most of his time with his old high school friends, so I won't see much of him anyway," She said sadly. Brenda had become so aroused now from talking about her escapades at the video store, it was obvious she needed some relief. I picked up a spoon to stir my coffee a little and promptly dropped it on the floor. As I reached under the table to retrieve the spoon, I looked over at Brenda. She was sitting with her legs spread apart, her large pussy agape and sopping wet. A small puddle of pussy juice had collected on the floor underneath her chair. I crawled on my hands and knees under the table to her. I reached around her hips and grabbed the back of her buttocks, gently pulling her toward the front edge of the chair. Her ass slid easily on the wet seat, coated with her pussy lube. I pushed her knees a little farther apart, and dove back in to that now familiar pussy, licking and sucking and slurping the nectar I had come to love. We played in the kitchen for an hour or so before I left to go home. * * * Wednesday morning I arose early. Fred is usually in the shower by the time I get up, but I was up before him this morning. This morning was different. I took a long shower, shaved my legs and underarms, and after a dainty drop of Ombre Rose on each wrist I felt pretty. I had the coffee made for Fred when he got up. He stumbled into the kitchen in his bathrobe, poured himself a cup, and opened the paper to the sports section. "Shit," Fred bellowed in disgust, "The Reds dropped another one. That's three in a row to the Cubs -- the fucking Cubs! Nobody loses three in a row to the Cubs." Fred still longed for the return of the glory days of the Cincinnati Reds -- the days of Johnny Bench and Pete Rose and Foster, Morgan and Griffey. Whenever Fred has too much to drink, he starts talking about, "The Big Red Machine," And how their 1975 world series against the Red Sox was the greatest series ever. I've heard the play by play a hundred times. After a long sigh, he shook his head he poured a second cup muttering, "Fucking Cubs," Under his breath. While the coffee cooled he headed off to the bathroom. After a quick shower, Fred quickly drank his coffee and went to the bedroom to dress for work. While Fred was dressing I removed my bathrobe and my nightgown and moved to couch in the living room. Fred came through the living room on his way out the door and saw me sitting on the couch. I was naked sitting with my legs spread wide apart. I had my hands underneath both my breasts, pushing them up toward my mouth. I was taking turns licking and sucking first one nipple, then the other. I knew Fred couldn't resist that. He always said the sexiest thing in the world is watching a woman suck her own titties. Whenever I wanted him that was all I had to do and he was putty in my hands. When he spied me, he knew what I wanted. "A little horny this morning, are we?" He teased. "Yes I am," I stated the obvious, "After all it's been a while. Maybe this will make up for the Reds losing three in a row." "Fucking Cubs," He repeated, "Wanna go back to bed? I'd really love a blow job" "No," I replied impatiently, "I want you to fuck me. Give it to me right here. Just like this - right where I'm sitting. You don't even have to take your pants off. Just pull them down, get on your knees and fuck me good. I want to feel that dick of yours inside me, and I want you to pump me full of your cum." "Damned," He said rhetorically, "You are a horny little piece this morning, aren't you?" Fred unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. He got on his knees in front of me and aimed his already hard dick at my waiting pussy. His dick is long and thin. He has about eight inches, but it's only one inch across, with the head just slightly larger than the shaft. I stuck a nipple in my mouth and Fred found the opening to my pussy and slowly slid his dick inside me. I closed my eyes and let Fred work his dick in and out of me, penetrating a little deeper with each slow, methodical stroke until his entire length was buried in my pussy. He then began a method he calls, "Long Dicking." He would pull his dick back until it was just outside my pussy, then shove it back in all the way with one long stroke. While my husband was busy with his long dicking, my eyes were still closed and my thoughts were of Brenda. With my eyes closed, I imagined it was Brenda at the other end of the dick now sliding in and out of me. A few minutes later Fred's strokes became faster and shorter. I knew he was close to getting his nut. I opened my eyes and looked at Fred. "Oh, Baby, I want your cum. Give me all your cum. Shoot all your hot cum deep in my pussy." I said it almost unconsciously. Fred looked surprised to hear me talk this way. I would usually say something innocuous, like, "Yea, Baby. You feel so good." I shoved my breasts up and pushed them together so the two nipples touched each other. I stuck my tongue between them, licking both nipples at once. I felt the dick inside me jerk a couple of times. I wrapped my legs around my husband's waist and dug my heels into his buttocks, driving every last centimeter of his dick inside me. Suddenly I felt the first scalding blast of semen erupt into me. One, two, three, four, five, six -- "I'll be damned," I thought, "My husband is a six-shooter." "Wow!" Fred exclaimed, "That was different. I never heard you talk like that before." "I guess I just got carried away by the way you were doing it," I lied, remembering what Brenda said about men's egos. He bought the excuse. "I think I kind of like it," He approved. "Thanks, Baby," I said gratefully, "That was wonderful, but you'd better get going or you'll be late for work." Glancing at his wristwatch, Fred grimaced, saying, "Yea, I gotta go. I've got a meeting at seven-thirty." He gave me a little peck on the cheek. "See ya later." As soon as I heard Fred back out of the driveway, I threw on my bathrobe, slid my feet into my flip-flops and headed out the back door toward Brenda's house. The grass was wet from the morning dew. I had to walk gingerly to keep my flip-flops from sliding. I could feel my husbands cum leaking from my pussy and running down the inside of my thighs. I quickly opened Brenda's patio door and leaving my wet shoes outside, made my way back to the workout room. Brenda was lying on the bench press taking a breather, her abundant breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her feet were on the floor with her legs apart, her cavernous pussy wide open staring at me, beckoning me to come have a taste. "You're late," Brenda admonished, looking toward the clock, which corroborated her statement by displaying 6:51 AM in bright red numerals. "Sorry," I apologized, "I brought you a surprise." "What?" She asked with a big smile as she started to pull herself up. "No, don't get up," I commanded. I tossed the bathrobe on the floor and walked to her. I bent over, giving Brenda a quick kiss on the lips. I threw one leg over her as she lay on the bench as if I were mounting a horse. Holding on to the weight bar while straddling her face, I slowly lowered my leaking pussy down to her mouth. "Mmmmm, cum," She mumbled with the same approval one might voice after the first bite of a melt-in-your-mouth filet mignon. She attacked my pussy with her hungry mouth, licking, sucking, and slurping noisily, seeking out the precious drops of cum I knew she craved. I pushed on my belly with my right hand trying to coax more of the pearly white liquid trapped inside me into Brenda's eager mouth. After about five minutes she stopped - another satisfying, "Mmmmm," her only critique. I dismounted and she sat up. Her eyes were like glass, as if she were in a trance. I sat beside her on the bench and she leaned into me as our lips met. Our mouths opened and I pushed my tongue in to her mouth, only to be greeted with a generous portion of the sweet and salty nectar Brenda had reserved to share with me. Suddenly the irony of it all hit me. My husband wanted me to suck him off this morning, but I said, "No." Yet here I was eating his cum from another woman's mouth. We played with my husband's juices for awhile, our mouths still locked together. Then we broke the kiss and both swallowed our respective rations. "That was wonderful," Brenda beamed, her mouth still covered in sticky wetness compliments of the Trainor family, "How'd you manage to pull that one off/" "Oh, Fred's easy," I explained, "All I have to do is get naked and stick one of my nipples in my mouth. After that, Fred's a puppet on a string. I just wanted to do something special for you." "Thanks, I loved it," She cooed. "Funny thing though," I told Brenda, "The whole time Fred was fucking me, I had my eyes closed and I was fantasizing that it was you fucking me instead. I mean I could see your face, your hair, your eyes, your breasts, your body. The strange thing was that instead of that beautiful pussy of yours, you had a dick, and you were fucking it in and out of me. Pretty weird, huh?" "I don't know so much about that," She dissented, "I think it's sweet. I mean here you are, fucking your old man and thinking about me -- it's actually very flattering. Did you enjoy seeing me with a dick instead of a pussy?" "Oh, hell yes," I confirmed, "I mean I love everything about your pussy. You know that. I guess it's just that since I was being fucked anyway, I wanted it to be you inside me. It was comical, but it was so sexy, imagining you, your big tits swinging back and forth and your body so feminine, yet this big cock hanging between your legs, you know, kinda like one of those transsexual people" I felt a twitch in my pussy. "Damn, I'm getting horny just seeing it in my mind again." Brenda excused herself, saying she had to go pee. A few minutes later, she returned wearing this very tight pair of hot pink, leather briefs with a 10" rubber dick sticking out the front. She grabbed the shaft of the fake dick with her right hand and shook it at me. "Did I look something like this?" "Oh my God," I squealed with surprise, "Where the hell did you get that thing?" "I got a bunch of them," She answered, "All sizes." It took a moment for the shock to wear off. Then I figured I'd play along. "You wanna fuck me with that thing, Sailor, or is it just for show?" Brenda started walking toward me, still holding the newly donned cock in her hand. I put three fingers in my mouth and gathering up a sample of saliva, I rubbed it all over my pussy. As she approached I spread my legs wide apart and held my pussy open with my fingers. I was sure she would get on her knees in front of me and fuck me, but when she reached me, she silently held out her hand to me, looking into my eyes as if to say, "Trust me." I did. I placed my hand in hers and she gave a gentle squeeze. She pulled me up off the bench, and with my hand in hers, led me to her bedroom. Brenda's bedroom was a throwback to the sixties. Directly over her bed hung a large, luminescent poster -- a print of the album cover of The Beatles, "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." Above the poster a florescent black light illuminated the bright colors. On another wall, hung posters of "The Jefferson Airplane", "Crosby, Stills and Nash," and "Cream". Other rock and roll memorabilia garnered display space around the room. A broken guitar that Brenda claimed Pete Townsend destroyed on-stage, a harmonica that once belonged to Bob Dylan, and the piece de resistance - two tickets to Woodstock in a small, glass case. The bedroom suite consisted of a dresser, a chest-of-drawers, and two nightstands, all heavy, red and black, Spanish style furniture. A lava lamp on one nightstand, changed colors from red, to blue, to green, to yellow, as white globules tediously rose and fell within. A king size, mahogany, four poster bed with an overstuffed mattress and bright red, satin sheets completed the ensemble. As I quickly evaluated the room and my sudden journey into The Psychedelic Zone, I sarcastically asked Brenda, "What did you do, trade in the waterbed?" "Yea," She retorted with an equal measure of sarcasm, "It made me seasick." Brenda led me to the bed and I crawled in, laying my head on the large, cool, satiny pillow. She climbed in beside me, brushing my hair aside with her hand and finding my lips with hers for a long, passionate kiss. She rolled over on top of me, and with her hands on the bed by my shoulders, pushed her arms stiff. Her face was a foot or so above me, her breasts hanging down touching mine. I reached underneath her, taking the shaft of her pseudo-cock and placing the head at the entrance to my pussy, ready and willing to accept all she could give me. I spread my legs wide apart as I felt Brenda slowly begin to push. I could feel my pussy open willingly, letting the dick, which was twice the girth of my husband's, slip its burrowing head inside. As the two-inch head pierced the initial point of resistance, I flinched in a moment of pleasure-pain from the unfamiliar size. Brenda stopped her entry. "You OK?" She asked. "Yea, I'm fine," I assured her, "It's just a little bigger than I'm used to." "I have a smaller one," She offered, "I don't want to hurt you." "No," I insisted, "I want this one. I want to feel as much of you inside me as possible. Honest, I can take this one." I had already forgotten that this really wasn't her invading me. It was a fake dick. It seemed like her. It felt like her. I so wanted it to be her. I placed my hands on her buttocks and pulled her ass toward me, forcing a little more of the shaft inside me. It was a little painful as my pussy was being stretched beyond its usual limits, but the pleasure of having Brenda inside me easily justified the pain. Anyway, I knew the stinging would subside as I became more acclimated to the size of the intruder. Brenda carefully eased her dick into me, watching my face for any sign of pain. When I flinched, she stopped pushing and lightly kissed me while stroking my hair, now wet with sweat. When Brenda had about half of the ten inch rod inside me, she stopped and retracted a couple of inches. She fucked two or three inches in and out of me for a few minutes, and I increasingly became comfortable with the size. The pain was all but gone now. What remained was sheer pleasure. For the first time since the initial assault, I could speak. "Oh, Brenda, That feels wonderful," I whispered. "Sure you're okay," She asked, concerned. "I'm fine," I reassured her. Her strokes became longer. She would pull out until only the head of the strap-on dick was inside me. Then she would glide forward, inching a little deeper with each slow push. When Brenda had eight inches inside, I braced myself for what was sure to be the return of the pain as her cock would be the deepest thing I had ever had in my pussy. Surprisingly, though, my pussy welcomed the last two inches of her with only heightened enjoyment. Finally she pushed as hard as she could, burying the ten inch pole in me as she feverishly kissed me. She broke the kiss and asked, "You still okay?" "It's amazing," I purred, "Fuck me, Brenda. Fuck me with that beautiful cock of yours. Don't ever stop fucking me." She started with long strokes, bringing the head of the dick just inside the entrance of my pussy, then slowly pushing until it was buried again. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked furiously. The nipple seemed to grow larger and harder than before and I heard Brenda moan with more pleasure the harder I sucked. Her long, slow strokes felt wonderful, but I wanted her to fuck me harder and faster. I wrapped my legs around her, locking my ankles behind her buttocks. When she pulled out I dug my heels into her butt cheeks, driving her beautiful pseudo-meat all the way back inside me hard and fast. After a few strokes like this, Brenda picked up the rhythm and began to fuck me forcefully, grunting aloud with every stroke and inhaling deeply with each retraction. Our bodies were both wet with perspiration and we slid against each other as if we were covered in oil. I was out of control now, grunting along with her, pushing my pelvis up to meet her hard, forceful strokes.