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Missed Opportunities

By: sweetnpetite



Dear Sexy,

Before you went to sleep, you asked me to rub your back. But I was busy surfing the internet, so I rubbed your back for a few minutes and I guess I didn’t try all that hard. Pretty soon you said, ok, that’s enough, the way you’re sitting on my back kinda hurts anyway.

Now I’m over here playing on the computer all by myself and you are sleeping, and I’m thinking- I could have done it different. I should have done it different.

Sure, we already had sex earlier today, and sure when I asked you if the back rub was going to lead to anything you said no. But I really didn’t try that hard after all.

Now I’m thinking about what I should have done and it’s this.

I should have walked over and wrapped my legs around your waist. I should have given you a good deep muscle rub, one that made your whole body relax, one that made you putty in my hands.

I should have pressed my full firm breasts into your back as I leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “Are you sure a back rub is all you want?”

If I had done that, I doubt that you would have turned down the chance to request another blowjob. You’d have rolled over and slipped your cock out of your boxers and pushed down at the top of my head with a silly grin on your face. And since this is what I meant when I asked the question, I would let you.

Down between your knees, I would rub my cheek over your semi-hard cock. With my lips and neck and tits I would tease you into a stiff and frenzied state. Then I would take you in my mouth, slowly at first. Yes maddeningly so, but you would thank me later, for letting your desire continue to build, for delaying what you really want.

I would softly blow on the head of your cock, then lick it quickly and then blown again. I would use my hand to pump at your shaft, pulling back on the head of your cock and sliding my tongue into the slit-like opening, sucking out the sweet pre-cum that would be leaking out of it by now. I would swirl my tongue around the head of your penis, then let it slide down to the top of the shaft, and around underneath. I would take the little mushroom top into my mouth again, this time slobbering and making sucking noises so you could see how truly hungry for your cock I had become.

By now, my pussy would begin to tingle and a slight wetness would be forming in the crotch of my thong panties. Bent in front of you with my ass in the air, you would have a good view of the thin string disappearing between my butt-cheeks as I devour your hard cock.

At this point my main goal would be to see how hard I could get you, how much I could tease your cock to life. Would a flick here make it twitch for me? Would sinking my lips down to your pubic hair cause you to let out a moan of pleasure? You know I can take it all down my throat, and I would- I would burry your cock in my mouth, humming and moaning around your thick tool.

If I had played my cards right, I’d have your cock in my mouth now, instead of sitting here at the keyboard, rubbing my fingers against the damp cloth of my silver thong and listening to your slow steady breathing from across the room.

It’s probably better anyway, since you have to get up early for work, but it’s only midnight, and I’m sure that neither of us would last too much longer anyway.

I’d be gulping down your thick hard cock and you would be holding fistfuls of my hair, pressing me down further on your shaft. I’d be using both of my hands for balance, but wishing there was some way I could get to my damp pussy. I’d be moaning over your big cock out of pleasure mixed with frustration as my panties continued to get wetter and wetter. I would hear you whispering to me about how you love having my lips wrapped around your cock and how you want to give me a beautiful pearl necklace. 

I’d be moaning even harder as you called me your little cock slut. By now, I would have to chance it. I would have to shift my weight to one hand so I could reach up and slide my thong panties to the side. Never taking my lips from your delicious cock, I would poke my finger up inside my slit and rub myself eagerly. My finger would glide over my pussy lips, coated slick with my own juices. If I’d only done what I didn’t think about until too late, my juices would be leaking down my leg, my finger furiously working my clit. But wait- that is what’s happening now, only my poor empty mouth is completely lonely without your cock to fill it.

After working my pussy into frenzy, I’d be begging you to fuck me now. Only I know you. You like your blowjobs, especially when you’re tired. You’d try to keep me working at polishing your stick. And who could blame you- I am such an enthusiastic cock sucker. I relish in being your dirty little whore, and I’ll agree to almost anything you say when you get me in the right frame of mind. I don’t want to be so submissive, but something just seems to take over in my mind, and I am. You know this and you take advantage of it often. But there are times when I must insist, and my neglected pussy would be demanding that I do.

Right about now, I’d be straddling your thighs, poised above your massive cock. My wet pussy would be eagerly waiting to be spread wide and sliding down over your pole. You would be holding my hips, or maybe squeezing my tits as I impaled myself down on your hard eager member.

I would be shuddering as you filled me. I would be grinding against you as you flicked at my nipples and watched my tits bounce up and down from above you. I would be begging, “fuck me fuck me” and hoping that you wouldn’t come, that you could make it last because it would feel so good to have you inside me. I would have my eyes squeezed shut as I concentrated on bringing our bodies together in the most pleasurable way, while I tried not to be overtaken by the frenzy of ecstasy. 

You would lie beneath me, thrusting back at me, yet generally relaxing, conserving your energy. I know that if I want you at this hour, I will have to do the work, yet it gets more difficult as my pleasure overtakes me. The closer I get, the harder it is not to simply collapse on top of you. And yet that would make everything stop, so I just try to keep my thrusts from getting sloppy. I want them hard and deep inside of me, and I tell you so under my breath. I don’t want to say it, but the words escape.

“I’m going to come,” you would tell me, slamming deep inside my womb.

“Come inside me,” I would cry, hoping that we could come together as I am very close myself, but instead you would pull out of me again and push me down to collect your hot load as it shoots from your loins. My pussy would gush as your cock slips out, leaving it empty and stretched. I would swallow hungrily your salty essence, savoring the taste of your cum before it slides down my throat. I would gulp noisily as you continue to squirt hot joy-juice into me, hoping that you enjoy my slutty display. I would continue to hold you cock in my mouth, sucking and swallowing until you pulled away.

I think you would have liked that. And I would have too. If only I hadn’t let a good opportunity pass. Now I’ve got myself all worked up the batteries are dead in my slim-vibe, so I guess I have no choice now but to use my hand. It’s going to be a messy job, but somebody’s got to do it.

I kind of wish I wouldn’t have dropped out of that yoga class when I did…

Frustratedly yours,

Sweet.

Missed Opportunities



If you read my earlier writing you may recall that I live alone these days and enjoy a lifestyle that is much simpler and stress free than the days of the corporate world. I live on the outskirts of town, well just outside the outskirts really, but have all the comforts I want. I get by with doing odd jobs for some of the single women or older couples in town, sell some photography work now and then, and have managed my investments of years past prudently.

So, this story is about one of the occurrences that happened recently. Libby is a divorcee in town who is a few years younger than me and with whom I worked with in an office decades ago. She was in marriage number three about then, if my memory serves me, and has had a few since then. We always got along well enough which led me to believe her carousel of spouses was more due to her choice of incompatible companion than any major flaw in either. We never did anything more than the usual innocent office flirting at the coffee machine, and I think we were both comfortable with that being all there was.

When I moved here Libby was one of the first people I ran into at the grocery store. She was wonderful in helping me get acquainted around town, and insisted that I have dinner with her that night. Since then I've been to her home many times to help her with some problem, like replacing the filter on her icemaker, doing some outside painting, rescreening her porch, etc. In all those endeavors it was clear that I was hired and she paid me for the work just as anyone else would. There was never any suggestion or action towards flirtation at all.

All that changed one day. Libby called me one afternoon and asked me to come by that evening to help her with a clogged sink drain and I agreed to a time. When I got there I could tell Libby was in a different mood and had already had a beer or two. I have no problem with that, just noticed that it was different. I also thought I could hear a porn video playing on the TV in the other room. That wasn't a total surprise as Libby was always known to enjoy watching porn. As I worked on the sink I assumed she was in there watching and getting herself off. When I finished the sink I just called out that I was finished and would see myself out. Getting no immediate response I quickly made my way out the door and to my truck.

I'll have to admit that the thought of her pleasuring herself in the other room stuck in my mind and that evening I made good use of that thought in pleasuring myself. Now allow me to describe Libby for you. She's not a petite thing but more what you might call curvy, which is exactly the way I prefer women. She has a definite girl-next-door look about her, with smooth, creamy skin and very blonde hair which is natural. Her breasts are ample, as is the wonderfully shaped ass. She usually dresses very conservatively in spite of her much wilder days of youth, and all of this worked to my advantage in the mental pictures that night.

The next morning was a Saturday and my phone rang fairly early. I recognized the number on the caller ID as Libby and knew she must be calling to apologize, and was correct. She didn't own up to what she was doing, just that she was so into the "housework" she was doing that she never heard me leave. I assured her it was no big deal and to forget it. I then offered that I had to run into town later that morning to pick up something at the hardware and would be happy to drop by around lunch time and that a sandwich for lunch would be ample in exchange for fixing her sink. It was a deal.

Libby lives in an older part of town but the houses are all well kept. I usually drive to the rear of her driveway and use the back door so that I won't soil her living room carpets with my boots and tools. When I got to the back door it flung open before I could even knock, and Libby greeted me more exuberantly than ever. She was in a fantastic mood, even for her, and was literally bouncing all around. Bouncing in her energy and bouncing her boobs. I'd never seen Libby when she wasn't wearing a bra, but today she most definitely wasn't. 

As we made our way to the kitchen, Libby bubbling in conversation the whole time, I noticed that either the cool morning air or my arrival had excited her, as her nipples were standing at full and firm attention. I tried not to stare, but the t-shirt she was wearing did little to disguise her figure, and the outline of her areolas was faintly visible under the thin cloth. Caught in my stares, Libby just squished her boobs in her arms, apologized, then went on talking as if nothing were amiss. 

As Libby as making our sandwiches she was facing the countertop and directly across the small kitchen from where I sat at the small table. As she talked and worked I stared at her rump and began to have doubts as to whether she was wearing any panties. She was wearing a pair of cutoff sweatpant shorts, cut several inches higher than fashion would suggest, and they fit nice and snug. Not tight, but snug. Snug enough to have displayed VPL if there were any panties. I sat there more occupied in wondering if there were panties, if there was a thong, or if there were nothing then in what Libby was saying. Finally she turned and brought our lunch to the table and I could relieve my eyes of the subject of the question, but was then subjected to the nipple show again. Lunch would be hard on me, for sure.

After we'd finished our lunch and taken some time for light conversation, I excused myself with the explanation that I had a number of chores to get to that afternoon, and that I appreciated the lunch. Libby smiled with that next-door girl smile, thanked me for coming by, and I was away. The sight of those nipples teasing from beneath the thin shirt and the smooth shape of her behind stuck with me much longer that afternoon than the sandwich did. In fact, I was rather looking forward to that evening so I could savor those mental images properly.

I didn't hear from Libby for over a week. My schedule is erratic and her work schedule can vary from just a few hours a week to close to 60 a week, depending on the workload. I always thought working in an accountant's office would be steady hours, but apparently not, especially around tax time. But near the end of the next week I did get a text from Libby asking me if I could stop by later that evening. I replied that I could and said it would be around 7 o'clock or so if that was OK. 

When I got to Libby's place a bit after 7 I expected to find another clogged sink or perhaps a sticking toilet valve. Most people just jiggle the handle to get the toilet to quit running, but that never works for long. What I didn't expect was what was to greet me inside the house.

Libby met me at the door and almost had a look of desperation on her face. I could clearly tell there was something wrong, so I asked, "You OK?"

"Yeah, I am, but, ah....." and her voice trailed off as we went into the kitchen. She asked me if I wanted something to drink, but looked like there was something else on her mind. 

"What's wrong, Libby?"

"You know how I hate to be blunt, ha, so here goes. I'm horny as hell. I want you to fuck my brains out."

I didn't know quite how to respond. This was a radical departure from our normal relationship. She was pretty, for sure, and built precisely the way I like women, but this was off the wall for sure. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. There's no one in town I'd trust, I trust you, and it ain't like we're going to be in a relationship or anything. No kissy-kissy, no boyfriend-girlfriend thing, no dating, just you and me helping a good friend out now and then. And right now is a REALLY good time. "

Just about the time she got that out the phone rang as if on cue. Without taking her eyes off me Libby reached for the phone to answer the call. "Hold that thought for a moment".

Libby never left the room so I couldn't help but overhear one side of the conversation, and surmised it was some sort of work problem she couldn't get out of.

"I am terribly sorry to lay that on you then ask you to leave, but I've been ordered by my boss to come back to the office to help him with our largest client's account. Can we resume this conversation soon?"

"Sure, just call me." With that I smiled at her and made my way to the door, well within range to hear Libby cursing to herself over the ill timing of her bosses' demands.

Friday afternoon was a glorious day, full of sunshine and the sights, sounds and smells of springtime. I'd been working outside all day and was feeling the fatigue of the day when my phone rang with a call from Libby.

"Hi, good lookin. You in the mood for ribs tonight?"

"Yeah, I could hide a rack of baby backs, but where around here are we gonna get anything like that?"

"Been slow cooking 'em this afternoon and will finish off on the grill at your place. I'll be there around 6. You got cold beer or do I have to being that too?"

"Whoa, that sounds great, and yes, I have cold beer. See you then." Libby and I had never indulged each other's company like this, but it felt good. We've always been comfortable around each other, and open enough to tell the other when it's time to leave without any hard feelings either way. Besides, ribs sounded good tonight.

I had the cabin fairly straightened up by the time Libby rolled up, including putting some fresh cut spring flowers on the table. Like most folks I have a gas grill for those times when time is short, but when cooking outside I prefer cooking over wood coals, and I had managed to get a good fire going well before Libby got there. Everything was under control until Libby got out of her car. I saw the legs first, then managed to work my way up past the shorts to the shirt that complimented her swaying breasts, which obviously were not within the constraints of a bra. A huge smile and sparkling eyes brought equal to my countenance, in spite of the stirring in my shorts.

"You got that grill ready for these ribbies, big boy?"

"I sure do, ma'am, and a cold one waiting for you in the fridge. I'll get these coals ready while you pop the bread in the oven, then bring us a cold one." I'd already made the mental note that as the night air chilled down, after all it was still early spring, it would be hard nipple time again. When Libby came out of the cabin I knew I was in trouble. The nips were already hard. I tried not to look, but my eyes kept roaming back to her chest, and Libby was on it instantly. 

"Like what you see, cowboy?" She never slowed her gait and within moments was right up against me, pressing those hardened orbs into my arm and chest, looked straight into my eyes with those baby blues of hers, and said, "You just might lucky tonight and not have to imagine what's under the shirt." With that Libby took the frosted beer bottle to her lips and sensuously rimmed the bottle before sliding her soft lips down the bottle neck a couple of inches. All I could do was stand there with my mouth agape.

Libby turned away, giving me a chance to breathe and check out her ass in the shorts, take a swig of my beer, and turn to the coals in an effort to refocus my attention and thoughts. I'd been with other women, for sure, but this was new territory with Libby and it felt so hot, so tempting.

It wasn't but a few minutes before the ribs were glazed and grilled to perfection. We decided to enjoy the evening outside as long as it remained pleasant, and the ribs beside the fire pit were delicious. As the evening sky darkened the flickering of the flames danced and gave both a romantic and erotic atmosphere to our meal. The flirting and suggestive language had subsided, to my delight and disappointment, and the evening settling into an easy and relaxed see-saw conversation. After we'd finished our plates Libby rose to take them to the kitchen and asked if I wanted another beer or one of the homemade brownies I'd left on the table. 

"Surprise me." When Libby returned she held her arms behind her back, keeping her delivery as a surprise. 

"Close your eyes." I did as instructed and held out a hand to accept the surprise, but to my real surprise the delivery was a soft, sensuous, sexy kiss to my unsuspecting lips. She tasted good, and I didn't want the kiss to end. But end it did. It ended with the wailing of the volunteer fire department scanner in the cabin. I'm a volunteer fire fighter and had to go. I told Libby I'd be back as soon as possible, apologized, grabbed my jacket and truck keys and was off within seconds.

Luckily the kitchen grease fire did a ton of damage to the home but no one was hurt. After dosing the fire and making sure it wouldn't rekindle we helped the family move some valuables out, get some clothes and get them settled in a local motel. By the time I got back to the cabin it was fairly late and I was actually surprised to see Libby's car still in the yard with I got there. Inside I found Libby asleep on the sofa with the TV going and a half empty bottle of my good scotch on the coffee table. She was definitely out for the count. I rousted her just enough to get her to walk to my bedroom where I got her situated in the bed and after covering her with a blanket I closed the door to let her sleep. That's when I had a sip of that scotch myself, turned off the TV and listened to the stereo as I let the tensions unwind. 

The next morning I had been up for hours, finished my laundry, and done a few house chores before Libby every stirred from the bedroom. She headed straight for the bathroom then came out to the kitchen with an impish look on her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drink too much and fall asleep and spoil it."

"Hey, no problem. I was late getting back anyway. Want some coffee?" She took a cup and then asked for an aspirin, then followed me out onto the front porch and a rocking chair. We quietly rocked and sipped coffee with no words needed or spoken. After a spell Libby mentioned that she needed to get back into town, especially since old widow Morris would be watching out her window and keeping track of when she came and went.

Libby and I saw each other from time to time after that, but never were intimate. It was as if those few moments had never existed, and I think she had to keep it that way to preserve the relationship. Our days and times together grew less and less frequent as the months and a few years passed and I thought about her from time to time but that was it. 

Then one day there was a phone call....................