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Renee Ch. 01

By: alan13703



The day was bright and sunny and I was feeling great. My husband had just finished mowing the lawn and I just love the smell of freshly cut grass and I loved life. I was standing at the kitchen sink cleaning up after a relaxed weekend meal with my family as I idly watched my daughter play in the pool with one of her boy friends. The sun was creating sparkles on the surface of the water and the sound of two young people was carried into the house on the gentle breeze. The graceful movements of my daughter caught my eye. There was something about the way she moved that held my attention and it came as a shock to me to realise what it was. She was oozing sex appeal. She was teasing the young man mercilessly in a grown up sexual way and she seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. 

That was the moment that I saw my little girl in a different light. It was like the shutters had suddenly been lifted. She had grown up. It seems  that she had progressed from innocent young girl into a mature sexual woman in the flash of an eye. It was one of those mother things – all of a sudden you see your child in a different light. I was shocked to see just how my daughter had grown into a beautiful young woman and I had just become aware of it. She was no longer my little girl but a young woman. 

It was also obvious that she was very aware of her body and that she was intentionally provoking the young man making playful but sexy contact with him at every opportunity. With a start I knew that I was looking at a younger version of myself and I knew that I needed to talk with my child about grown up matters. She definitely reminded me of me and, if she was anything like me, it was certain that if she would be sexually active very soon if she wasn't already. I shook my head as if to clear my mind, amazed that I hadn't seen it before. Maybe it was the way she was carrying herself in the presence of the boy, I don't know but it was definitely time to talk with her about birth control. 

My thoughts drifted back to my younger days and I felt a smile form on my face as I recalled my activities. As a teenager I had been sexually active, very active, and I had been extremely lucky. Somehow I hadn't become pregnant and if my daughter was going to engage in sexual activity the way I did then she definitely needed to take precautions. 

Then came the questions. Did I want her to be as sexually liberated and uninhibited as I was and am? Did I want her to be as promiscuous as I was? Did she know about my 'other' life?  Just what was her attitude to sex?

As I observed her in action I could see that these questions needed to be addressed with a degree of urgency. 

As these thoughts permeated my mind I turned the tap on full and water spurted from the tap into the sink causing the detergent to foam forming bubbles and a pleasant aroma of lemons. I watched the bubbles and remembered my first experience of sex. It was an event that had been like turning on a tap because sex for me flowed freely from that day. I had made a deliberate decision and once I had tasted it I didn't want it to stop because I loved it. 

This first experience taught me many things. 1. Boys loved sex. 2. I loved sex and 3. I loved pleasing boys. I also quickly learned that I loved giving my body to them for their pleasure. If sex pleased boys and all forms of sex pleased me then I could see no reason not to engage in sex as often as I wanted. It also didn't take me long to know that sex is powerful and that I could use it to get what I wanted - and I did.

Lost in my memories I played with the bubbles imagining what it had been like to hold my first live penis. I remembered flirting with my first lover in a way very much the same as my daughter was and I wondered if my mother ever watched me and felt the same. I smiled warmly as I thought of my mother and I recalled the time I caught her in bed with a man who wasn't my father. A deliciously naughty feeling invaded my body as I relived the scene. My mother, naked, was facing the door of her bedroom sitting astride a man impaled on his cock. When I opened the door her eyes locked onto mine open wide in shock and I beat a hasty retreat. I was in my late teens at the time but I eased my mother's concerns by suggesting that she make sure that she continued to enjoy herself. The incident was never mentioned again but I knew that she frequently invited other men into her bed. I have a sneaky suspicion that my father knew about her extramarital sexual activities.

Sex had played a major part in my life then and it still does today. My husband George and I have an unconventional attitude to sex to say the least and I'm sure my children have picked up on that through the years.

So, did I want her to be like me? Well if she was anything like me I knew there was nothing that I could do to stop her even if I wanted to. She would make up her own mind as I did. The bottom line is simple. There was and still is nothing that will stop me enjoying the type and amount of sex I have. I believe that I was made a woman to serve and please men sexually. I know that this is not popular attitude to hold today but it's the attitude I have. It works for me and brings great pleasure to George and myself. The thought of men using my body for their own satisfaction turns me on and when I'm in a situation when it's about to happen I get wet instantly. There is no sex act I won't do for a man and it turns me on when they know that. I am lucky because my husband also like to share me with other men. 

We have two lives. One is the successful happy average family. People know me as a typical 'soccer mom.' I attend school functions and I love my children and my husband passionately. However, my husband and I have other needs. These needs are seen to be abnormal by many although more and more people are beginning to openly admit to enjoying a similar lifestyle. 

My gaze returned to my daughter and her antics and I recalled my first early years as a budding and growing young female. 

The 'in' group at school consisted of ten or twelve guys a couple of years older than myself. They had girls hanging off their arms at all times and they all played for one of the schools sporting teams. I don't recall any of them being on the school's debating team. 

They were all very good looking, cock sure of themselves, self centered and quite arrogant. My family had moved into the area recently and I had started going to the school late the previous year. After a few months I had identified the leading members of the group and managed to be accepted as a fringe member, a situation I enjoyed courtesy of my well-developed tits. Also I never attempted to be coy and I'm sure my body language communicated the fact that I was interested in sex and most important that I was approachable. I think I was constantly making a silent statement that said, "I'm fuckable," 

Most of the boys were a couple of years older than I was and while they sensed my approachability and in spite of their self assured front they were unsure. As for the girls they definitely knew more about me than I did at that stage. They recognised a competitor and they knew that I was available and willing, even anxious, to let the boys have their way with me. They were openly rude and nasty to me making it very clear that I wasn't welcome.

I was aware that they didn't like me and I didn't care. It wasn't them I wanted to please. I was actually quiet innocent and naive at that time but I knew what I wanted and had a plan to get it. I was going to take advantage of my extremely strong desire to explore sex. I thought about it all the time, in class, in bed, and while talking with my girl friends. One of those girls had discovered some adult magazines in her parent's bedroom and these made for enlightening reading. I loved the pictures but the stories and letters also grabbed my attention. I wasn't the only girl to be obsessed with sex after all. Sex was always with me mentally and physically. During classes I would frequently think about the stories and pictures and a now familiar tingling sensation would start between my legs. It was an itch that needed urgent attention. 

One day one of the boys finally got the message and the nerve to find out if I was truly available. After school he approached me and asked if I would like him to walk me home. I was thrilled and accepted without hesitation instinctively knowing that this boy was going to try his luck with me. This was confirmed by his next question. 

"Renee are your parents home?" It wasn't the most creative approach but it was functional.

Even though I had read, talked and dreamed of this moment for what seemed like forever I still felt the blood rush to my face. 

"No. They won't be home for hours." 

I looked up at him and a nice thrill ran through my body. I was aware of increased moisture between my legs I can still clearly recall the walk and I remember thinking with much anticipation that this boy wants to fuck me and that I was going to let him. I was going to let him to do what he wanted to me. The thought thrilled me then as it does today.

When we got home I got us a drink and I took him straight to my bedroom.

Pete read the situation perfectly and without preamble kissed me placing his hand inside my shirt and began to fondle my breasts. I broke the kiss and moved away from him a little. He looked a little crestfallen as he thought I was going to stop the action but he soon understood. I had a deep urge to expose myself so I started to slowly undress removing my shirt and skirt until I stood in front of him in my bra and panties. It was then that he lost patience and basically mauled me stripping us both. It certainly wasn't romantic which was good because I didn't want romance I wanted to fuck. Before I knew it we were both naked and I was lying on my back on the bed as he hovered over me his hard cock poised at the entrance to my pussy. Then in one swift movement he was inside me. He pushed forward into me and fucked me. He took my cherry, and pumped away until he filled me up with his semen.

I remember lying there just watching fascinated. His face contorting as he came, the beads of sweat on his forehead and the grunting noises he made almost made me laugh but I didn't.

While it felt nice it was nothing to write home about. I did feel physical pleasure and although  it wasn't the mind blowing, earth-shattering experience I had read about it was pleasurable. However, it was the obvious pleasure he received that gave me the most enjoyment. As I reminisced I could still feel him lying on top of me enjoying his weight on me and the full body to body skin to skin contact. I can still feel his breath on my neck as he told me what a great fuck I was. I thanked him and felt a real thrill and turned I was by the fact that this boy had just used my body to obtain so much pleasure.

When his cock was soft and he was satisfied he rolled off me and for the first time in my life I felt the warm slippery liquid oozing from between my legs. I reached down and inserting my fingers into my pussy and masturbated myself. I liked the wet slippery feel of it and I knew that I wanted more, lots more.

We lay there naked for a short time and then he took hold of my head and guided me down to his cock. It was still coated with his cum and I could smell it. I rested my head on his tummy for a while savoring the odor getting used to it as I played with his balls and cock. He was soon hard again and he pushed my face lower until my mouth was touching his cock. Another nudge told me that he wanted me to take him into my mouth so I did. I knew what I would do because I had been dreaming about it for ages. I was going to suck him off and keep him in my mouth until he came and then I would swallow it if I could. 

I was going to let him use my mouth until he was completely satisfied. As I was without experience I let him do what he wanted. I remember thinking how cool it would be to make him cum. I didn't realise just how quickly a warm willing mouth and tongue will get a guy off. I was surprised and very pleased that within seconds he was holding my head firmly in place as he filled my mouth with his semen. I had read  a lot about it so when I felt him starting to cum I put my tongue over the tip of his cock and I felt the first strong spurts of semen hit underneath my tongue. It was warm and it filled my mouth. As the strong spurts finished I swirled the semen around in my mouth, swallowed most of  it and then let the rest land on the top of my tongue. The taste wasn't too strong and not as salty as I had been told it would be. I liked it. After he had finished I kept him in my mouth and sucked him clean. When I was done I look up and grinned at him making licking my lips in a sexy manner. He collapsed  onto my bed and repeated his very romantic statement. "Renee you are a great fuck and cock sucker."

I laughed with him and said, "I still have a lot to learn and I want to learn. Do you want to teach me? 

If I expected any romance (which I didn't by the way) I sure didn't get any.

He rolled on top of me again rubbing his soft penis on my pussy and sucking my tits. "Fuck yeah. I'm going to fuck you silly from now on. I'll fuck you any time you want."

"Well I want it all the time."

As soon as he had regained his strength he rolled off me and stood leaving me lying on the bed still naked and with semen oozing from my body.

He ran his fingers over my lips saying, "Renee you are a natural cock sucker and a great fuck and I can't believe that you swallowed it all. I'll be around again very soon to sample more of you."

I gave him a coy smile. "Pete, like I said, you can come and fuck me as often as you like. My mouth is yours to use." I had placed a lot of emphasis on the word cum and he understood my meaning. 

Shaking his head he said, "fuck you're something else. Wait till I tell the rest of the guys about this. I can't believe we took this long to discover you." This was something I hadn't considered but I felt a thrill go through my body when he said it. I discovered that far from being upset that he would brag about what he did to me I wanted him to. I smiled and said, "all of your friends?"

Grinning he looked at my body planted a quick kiss on my tits said "yes" then left the room. 

I got up and, still naked, followed him to the door only partly concealing myself behind it as I waved him goodbye. The risk of being seen was also a turn on for me.

My daughter's laughter brought me back to the present and realized that I was smiling at the memories. I hadn't known it of course but even then I was displaying behavior that pointed to an exhibitionist and submissive streak in me. 

Enjoying the warm glow that had taken over my body I again let my mind drift back to the past. 

I remembered as if it were yesterday. When he had gone I leaned against the wall and felt my body all over. I put my fingers in my pussy and tasted myself. I liked it, replaced my hand and thinking about the fact that soon most of the people at school would know what I did I had an orgasm almost immediately. I wasn't concerned at all of the prospect in fact I was glad and I felt really sexy knowing that he was going to tell his mates about me.

The next day I went to school with a mixture of excitement, embarrassment and a feeling of not knowing what to expect. By lunchtime I was aware that some of the boys and girls were looking at me differently. After school I had confirmation that he had indeed been talking about me. One of his friends asked to walk me home and the question was the same.

"Renee are your parents home?" 

"I looked at him and gave him a knowing smile. "No not for a couple of hours yet. Why? Do you want to come around?

"Fuck yeah" was his reply.

I didn't even think about the consequences. Two boys in two days and I would certainly have an instant reputation as an easy lay; a slut. I smiled at the thought and handing him my books. "That it would be nice" was all I said. And so my second sexual adventure began and I must confess that I didn't give the risk of pregnancy a thought. Naïve hey. All I knew was that if he wanted to screw me I would let him.

When we got to my home I did the same as I had done the day before. I went to the kitchen, got a drink, took him by the hand and led him to my bed. I then turned and faced him before slowly undressing myself.

Emboldened by my direct and no-nonsense approach he moved to me, kissed me hard and then literally took over stripping me. When I was naked he pushed me away from him so he could see all of me. It was an embarrassing but fantastic sensation and his reaction excited me. I looked directly at his groin and the growing bulge in his pants then made eye contact with him as his eyes wandered over me. I could actually feel each part of my body as he looked at it especially when he openly gazed between my legs. In spite of my willingness my face was burning with embarrassment. I was extremely aroused and I sucked in my breath as he reached out and touched my nipples squeezing them before dropping to his knees for a closer look at my pussy and pushed a finger inside me.

"Renee you're   very wet," he said as he slid a second finger inside me. I spread my legs further apart making it easier for him. The act of giving him complete access to my body was an incredible turn on and my pussy might have been wet before it literally gushed when I did that. 

He looked up at me and stated the obvious. "You like this don't you?"

With wobbly knees I managed to nod and whisper "yes I do."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to do whatever you want. I want to please you."

I heard him suck his breath in and he said in a husky voice, "You'll let me do anything I want? Anything?"

I steadied myself by placing me hands on his shoulders. "Yes you can do anything to me as long as it pleases you."

"Pete was right. You are a slut."

When I heard his call me a slut I experienced a surge of excitement, my knees bent even more forcing him to support me his fingers buried deep inside me. It was fantastic. 

He stood up lifted me almost off the ground. I let him take my weight and I moved my pussy back and forward increasing the pressure on my clit. I was in heaven. 

I was actually getting close to an orgasm when he stopped. A situation that I was to experience many times in the next few years until I started fucking men who knew how to please a woman but as I said I didn't mind as long as the boy was happy. 

He undressed quickly and I almost fainted when his penis sprang free. Again I loved the effect I was having on him. To use a cliché I was drawn to the hard swaying flesh just as a moth is to a flame. 

I tentatively reached out and touched him smoothing the slippery liquid that had appeared over his cock making it jump and twitch. He drew me in to him until my breasts were crushed to his chest. I could feel the heat of him and the hardness pressing into my tummy set me on fire. I kissed him pushing my tongue into his mouth. It obviously wasn't my first kiss but it was only the second time for me to be standing completely naked feeling male flesh on mine. He pushed me back onto the bed and like his friend the day before he entered me in one swift movement. No preamble or romantic talk he just started pumping into me like crazy and all too soon I received the second load of semen into my body. Even then I didn't think about pregnancy because I was enjoying myself too much. Like most young people I was living in the moment and the possible consequences didn't even enter my mind. I do remember thinking about the boy and making sure he was pleasured. The fact that he seemed to have found his heaven between my legs made me shake all over. 


Renee Ch. 01



When he had finished he rolled off me and I put my hand between my legs and felt the wetness seeping from my pussy. I dipped my fingers into my wetness and tasted myself again. When I saw the look on the boy's face I could see that this act blew him away. 

As you know young boys come quickly but they also recover quickly and within minutes he was at it again. He massaged my boobs and sucked on my nipples for a few minutes then moved up until his semi firm cock was resting on my mouth. Classy act hey but never the less I knew what he wanted so I licked it took the head into my mouth playing with it. I was filled with wonder at the power I had as his cock began to grow in my mouth. I looked up at him and our eyes met and seeing that I wasn't going to complain he pushed forward sliding his himself deep into my mouth.

I remember choking a bit as he pushed too far and the fact that he didn't worry about me at all turned me on even more. It meant that he was enjoying himself and that is what turned me on as much as the sex itself. I couldn't do anything but I was happy to lie there and let him fuck my mouth. A short time later, he did last a bit longer this time and my jaw was starting to ache when I felt the second load of semen shooting into my mouth. Again I swallowed it all.

Being an observant young girl I had noticed how much the boys enjoyed using my mouth and listening to their cries grunts and groans of joy as they came in my mouth. I was determined from that moment that I would make myself available to them whenever they wanted to use me. The thought was powerful and it excited me incredibly. 

Once he had finished he didn't wait around long and he was soon on his way parting with words similar to Pete's.

"Wow Renee you're a natural." 

"So I did OK then?"

"Are you kidding. You can suck my cock anytime you like."

"Then I will suck your cock anytime you want."

And that was my introduction to sex. It was going to be about three years before I found out that sex can be really good for the woman too but I was happy. Like I said I got off on the knowledge that I was pleasing the boys and that is something that hasn't changed. 

Drifting back to the present and with my hands still in the cooling water I though about the fact that nothing has really changed for me in that regard. When I go out with a man or men on a date there is no sex act I will not perform for them. When my husband has the chance he makes sure the men know it too. My husband has encouraged my exhibitionism and submissiveness and I have had many adventures. 

I finished the dishes and sat on the upstairs porch overlooking the pool and I continued to enjoy recollections of the past. 

A couple of days later I saw Pete again. He was standing in the schoolyard with a few of his friends. When he saw me approaching he called out to me making sure people around would hear. 

"Hey Renee, remember you said you would suck me off anytime?"

My body burned with embarrassment and humiliation but also incredible excitement. I looked at him and then glanced at the other boys in the group and I knew my face had turned bright red. My whole body must have been glowing I felt so hot. Some of the boys were embarrassed and didn't know where to look and the girls looked stunned and completely at what they had heard. However a couple of the boys looked directly at me waiting for my reply. Smiling demurely I replied. "Yeah I remember."

With a huge grin he said, "Well   how about now?"

I looked at him and then at the group again and deep down inside I knew that this was a turning point. If I did as I had promised I would have a reputation not many girls would want. I didn't even need to think about it because I wanted to do it. I actually wanted to be thought of a slut because that would mean the boys would all feel free to ask me for a blow job and/or a fuck.

So in spite of nearly dying from embarrassment I was even more turned on. The excitement I felt was almost overwhelming and my body was shaking. Not trusting myself to speak I made my decision. I didn't bother to answer him I just took his hand and led him behind the lunch shed. 

He leaned up against the wall and shaking and tingling all over with anticipation and arousal I dropped to my knees, took his cock out of his pants and sucked him off. Needless to say he came almost straight away and I swallowed all he had to offer. Kept him in my mouth until he had become soft, sucked him clean, licked his balls then put him away. With an 'I conquered all' look on his face he led me back to the group. If it took 5 minutes all up I'd be surprised. 

I was still embarrassed and thrilled at the same time and we approached the group I met their eyes with a challenge. The look on their faces said it all. I could see them thinking the thoughts that Pete put into words. "Fuck Renee I really didn't think you'd do it. I know you said you would do it   but I didn't think you were serious." Then I became aware of some of some other comments being made. "What a slut." "She is a cocksucker," and one that really caught my attention. "Renee will you suck my cock?"

I looked around at the group again and responded to the question. "Yes but not now. I have to get to class."

Turning to Pete I said, "Thanks Pete that was nice."  

With another quick glance around the disbelieving faces surrounding me I went to class feeling really good about it. Thinking back I can't believe I had the courage to do it but I am sure glad I did.

The next afternoon Pete and without asking took my books and walked me home from school for another quick blow job and fuck.

As he was pumping into me he grunted "What are you doing on Saturday afternoon?"

I giggled at the situation. Here I was on my back legs wrapped around this boy as he fucked me and he was asking me for more sex. In between his thrusts I answered. "John has asked me to his place to watch the basketball. Why?"

"Oh. I'm   going to a party with Jane (his girl friend at the time) and I thought I might come and see you before I go." 

Pulling his face down to me I kissed him and said, "Come around after then. I'll leave my window open so just climb in." Then with a dirty grin I chuckled and added "and climb aboard. You'll have to be quiet though or we'll get busted."

He came then and when he I again enjoyed feeling his body on top of me as he recovered. 

"Renee you really are something else you know. Are you sure because I might just do that."

"Well I hope you do and I told you. You're welcome anytime you want and I would love to see you."

So on Saturday I went to John's place to watch basketball and surprise, surprise   his parents weren't home.

When I arrived he kissed me and said, "Want to go into my bedroom to watch the game?"

"If that's what you want."

So he took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. The game hadn't started but he did and within minutes we were making out on his bed. This time a boy was actually taking his time. It took him about five minutes before he had me naked but it was still wonderful.

As short as it was it was still my first bit of foreplay. Once he had me undressed he took a long time kissing my body all over and when he went down on me I had my first real taste of how good sex can be. It was sensational. 

It wasn't too long before he changed position and lifting his leg over my face I was presented with his cock dripping with moisture. I gave it a light kiss and sucked the pre cum from the tip and then I rolled him over until I was sitting on his face. I sucked him a bit before moving off him and I kissed him on the mouth.

I then slowly worked my way down his body kissing, licking and nibbling him all over. He was moaning and squirming all over the bed before I took pity on him. I licked his and then ran my tongue up his shaft finally reaching my objective. I had done my job well because fluid was flowing freely from the eye of his cock. I inspected him scratching gently under his balls with my fingernails before repeating my actions. I licked and suck them into my mouth again causing him to shudder with pleasure. I could tell he was about to lose control so I returned to his cock. I was actually looking forward to tasting him. I wanted to feel the worm semen flood into my mouth. Placing my face directly over his rock hard hot rod I looked at him.

"Are you going to come in my mouth?"

It was almost too much for him as he moaned and told me that he was.

Then I lowered my face and sucked him into my mouth swirling my tongue around the tip and shaft as I took him deep into me. He sucked his breath in and then started to lift his hips off the bed forcing himself   up and deep into my mouth. I gagged a little and drew back but he grabbed my hair and pushed his hips up as he pulled my face down onto him and he filled my mouth with the fluid I craved. I swallowed all I could but because he was literally fucking my mouth some flowed out down his penis over my fingers and into his pubic hair.

He was a mess, I was a mess and I loved it. 

I don't know what made me do it but I looked up at him, smiled and opened my mouth so he could see his white substance coating my tongue then I made a show of swallowing it. Then I leaned back down and started to lick the overflow and swallowed that.

After a short rest we went into the living room. The basketball had started and, sitting together and naked we watched for a while. 

The feeling I had being naked and with the taste of his semen still in my mouth was great.

"Have you been talking to Pete?"

"Yeah." He said,

"What did he say about me?." 

"He said that you were fantastic so I had to find out for myself." 

Again I had the combined feelings of being acutely embarrassed and highly stimulated at the same time.

"Yes but what did he say?"

"He said that you were a great fuck."

I looked him and then took his cock back into my mouth and sucked on him. As soon as he was hard I lifted my leg over him and mounted him enjoying the look on his face as his cock slid into me effortlessly. I loved the fact that our bodies were connected. I leaned forward rubbing my tits on his chest and then kissed him with an open mouth pushing my tongue into him tasting him, exploring him. With my mouth open and together with his I said, "You can tell your friends about me and tell them what I like doing too if you want" then I sucked his tongue into my mouth as far as it would go and french kissed him. He was excited too because he responded with great enthusiasm. It was a very sexy moment for me and I continued to explorer his mouth with my tongue as I rode him. I was dizzy with pleasure. When I felt him start to cum I opened my eyes and looked him in the eye until he had finished then I lifted myself off him and went down on him sucking him clean.

My closest girlfriend and I had a lot in common. We both loved sex and we both let the boys have what they wanted. She was even easier than I was if that was possible. Anyway her mother knew of our activity and had supplied us both with the pill. It was her parents that had the magazines and we later found lots of photographs and videos of her mother in action with other men. We discovered that it was her dad that took the videos and pictures that kept us entertained and in a constant state of arousal. My girlfriend and I spent many hours pouring over the pictures and wondering if we would ever be able to catch them live. We never did but we kept trying. 

As you would expect I quickly gained a reputation as the school slut and some of the boys called me 'the whore.' The first time they called me this I was angry but I also realised that I not only liked it but that it turned me on so much that I wanted to be known as an easy lay. Whenever I was called a slut and whore I get so turned on my pussy literally dripped with excitement. 

Over the next few years I used sex to gain favour with anyone I wanted and I was a regular member of the 'in crowd' sucking and fucking all the male members of the group. I didn't limit my activity to those boys and during my time at school I would have sucked off most of the boys.

The boys knew they could have me anywhere anytime. I had boys in my bedroom, in cars, on the beach, in the paddocks and the playing fields of the school. Blow jobs were my specialty. I preferred sucking guys off because it was quicker and I could service more boys that way. As for how many I don't know how many boys I sucked or fucked but it was a lot.

I enjoyed at least 3 years of this type of activity before I met some older guys. I know it sounds like all I did was suck and fuck but I did study as well. That was another reason why I liked sucking so much. 

It was after I started work that I expanded my horizons. My girlfriend Sue introduced me to some of her male friends. As I said before she was even more of a slut than I was. She had been screwing older guys for years. For the next few years I also enjoyed romps with these men and my expertise and skills were perfected. I also finally knew just how good sex can be for a girl. Despite my promiscuous attitude I had never participated in group sex. Some of the guys at school had me suck them off in front of their friends, an act that I enjoyed because of the humiliation. 

Sue and I often went on dates together usually finishing up in her small flat. It had one room that was bedroom and kitchen with a small bathroom. 

One night I had taken my date there for the usual suck and fuck when Sue and her date arrived home. I was lying on the bed with my head hanging over the side looking back towards the door. My knees were touching my shoulders, my man was sucking my tit as he fucked me. 

That was how I was introduced to my future husband. Sue laughed and said, "George I'd like you to meet Renee. She's my best friend and I afraid I haven't met her stud yet. 

I had an upside down view of George and I smiled up at him, gave him a week wave and said "hi this is Ken." 

The extra audience set my date off and he released a torrent of semen inside me. 

When my date had finished with me I got off the bed to go to the bathroom. As I stood semen ran freely down my legs and dripped onto the floor. 

Sue was hanging onto George's arm laughing uncontrollably. "Look at the slut, she's dripping all over my nice clean floor."

I stuck my hand on my pussy to try and stop the flow with limited success and went to the bathroom. I didn't close the door and I cleaned myself up a little. I went back into the room and went to Sue kissed her cheek and then shook George's hand.

"Hi George nice to meet you. The cum machine over there is Ken. He promised me a huge load and he sure gave it to me. 

Sue then dragged George into the other bed and we both spent the night fucking our brains out. It was a sensational night because I was very aware that George was watching me closely. I could feel his eyes on me as I sucked and swallowed my man's cum. I put on a show when I went to the bathroom knowing that his eyes were glued to me. I watched him watching me as I rode my piece of hard male flesh that night. I enjoyed the audience and I enjoyed displaying myself.

In the morning I had to go to work so I was the first up. I went over and kissed Sue on the cheek again leaning over George as I did so taking the opportunity to rub my tits on his face.

Later that afternoon George called me and asked me out. Of course I agreed.

He picked me up from my home and treated me like a slut. We had only been in the car a few minutes when he unzipped his pants and removed his cock as he drove. I looked at him then at what he was offering me and I smiled, moved closer and touched his erection with my fingers scratching him lightly with my nails. I kissed his cheek and whispered to him in a sexy sultry voice. "I guess you want me to take this into my mouth and suck you off?'

He didn't say anything but he pulled over, stopped the car, placed his hands on my head and pushed my face down into his crotch. Again not romantic but it was what I wanted. I didn't hesitate for a second and soon I was sucking on the hot hard flesh. I slid my mouth over him sucking blowing nibbling and licking. Basically I gave him the benefit of my years of cock sucking experience. 

Soon he gripped my head firmly and literally fucked my mouth, pushing my head down as he thrust his cock up deep into my face. I gagged a few times and coughed and spluttered but I didn't stop him. I wanted him to know I was his slut in that moment and it wasn't long before I got some of what Sue had the night before. He emptied his balls into my mouth. 

When he had finished he made me keep sucking and licking until he was soft and clean. 

It was marvelous and I loved it.

When he allowed me to surface and he looked at me with a satisfied grin on his face.

Licking some of his semen off my lips I said, "I guess you saw last night that I love sucking guys off. Well if you buy me a drink I'll let you fuck me too."

That was my introduction to George. The first time he saw me I was fucking another man. Within five minutes of our first date, which was later that day I had sucked him off and told him that he could fuck me. 

We went for a coffee and finally spoke more than two sentences.

"What did Sue tell you about me?"

George laughed. "You really want to know?"

I looked into his eyes with an assumed innocence and smiled with him. "Of course. Tell me exactly what she said."

"Well she said that next to her you are the biggest slut and whore in town and that if I want a great fuck you're the lady."

I laughed with delight. She sure knows how to compliment a lady." And that was our first date. After coffee we went to my place and he spent the rest of the night fucking me like the sex hungry little whore I am. 

The next few weeks every time he felt like a blow job or a bit of pussy he would call me, take me out and fuck me. Sometimes he would come to my home, fuck me and then leave. This went on for a while and eventually he became such a regular visitor that I gave him a key to my flat. He knew he had to take his chances knowing that I would very likely be 'entertaining' a man friend. When that happened, and it did on a very regular basis, he waited until I was done, bid my date farewell and then fuck me. Many times he walked in to see me with a mouth full of cock or bent over the kitchen table getting screwed and he would wave and sit down to wait. 

It was an arrangement that pleased us both as it satisfied my exhibitionist and his voyeuristic tendencies. You will have guessed by now that I didn't mind being used by George for sex. To him I was a pussy waiting to be used and I loved that. 

I was a slut when he first saw me. He took me out because he wanted a screw and kept calling on me for sex. I was the resident slut and he took full advantage of that. The fact that I was also doing the same for several other guys at the same time didn't appear to concern him and it sure didn't bother me at all.

However, after several months things started to change. George started to take me out to dinner, the movies or just for a drink. It grew from a quick fuck and leave to regular dates. Of course sex was always enjoyed either before or after our date but it gradually dawned on me that George liked me for me and not just for sex. It was a new experience for me.

For my part I certainly enjoyed his company. He had realised that I was a smart girl with a great sense of humour and of course a fantastic attitude to sex. He liked her and I liked him. Eventually the inevitable happened and we actually fell in love and he asked me to marry him. I said yes.

We had been engaged for about six months when he discovered that his bride to be was still fucking and sucking her favorite ex boyfriends on the side. I mean did he expect a girl to give up old habits overnight? Well one day he found out that I was fucking his best friend, the one who had introduced us.  




Renee Ch. 01



Well we had an argument and he asked me to stop all of my extra curricular activities and I did, almost. OK I didn't stop but I became much more discrete. I remember one occasion where I left a lover's bed and was in bed with George thirty minutes later. 

Anyway when we married I changed my ways and became the model wife. I was determined to be a faithful wife and do all the things society expected. 

About six months later George surprised me. He told me that he had liked watching me fucking the guys. He always looked forward to coming to my place never knowing if I would be naked and getting soundly fucked. When we started to date more regularly he liked the fact that I was still fucking and sucking several guys. He also confessed to me that when he found out I was cheating on him even after our engagement he was very angry but also very aroused. 

I was mystified.

"I know all that George and it's ok. I know you liked watching me fuck. I gave you a key because I knew you are a voyeur."

He must have seen that I was unsure as to what he was telling me because he was hesitant, not quite sure of how to continue.

"I know Renee. Um it's just that well I would like you to see other men for sex again."

I must admit that it floored me. 

"George you want me to be a slut again?"

Again he looked unsure. After a pause he stammered "well yes I guess so. I want to watch you having sex with other guys again."

I smiled to put him at ease. "George I must say the idea causes me to tingle but I have made a very conscious effort to be a good and faithful wife and I'm determined to be a good mum. Now that I am married, as much as I enjoyed being a slut I have left that life behind me."

So he had to let go of his dream for a while and we settled down had two beautiful children and I became Renee the model mum. The school slut and the girl called 'the whore' had become a respectable mum doing all the usual respectable things.

However, George didn't give up his dream and he kept asking me if I would fuck other guys because it turned him on. It became a standing joke between us. I must say that the idea did have a certain appeal for me. While I remained firm in my resolve I did make one compromise for him. I agreed to wear some very sexy 'slut' outfits to a bar with him as long as it was out of town. I did this for him three or four times a year and I will admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Deep down I was still a slut at heart and George new it.

After a couple of years I noticed that he was taking me to more and more bars that were frequented by blacks. He would encourage me to dance with the guys letting them kiss and fondle me. Sometimes I would let the guys put their hands between my legs and inside my top while they were dancing. I dressed like a slut and I behaved like a slut but while I enjoyed the attention I wouldn't let them have sex with me. 

Over the years the visits to the bars became far more frequent and the outfits became more and more revealing and they left no doubt that the woman wearing them was a slut. 

I also noticed that the bars we went to were bars not only frequented by black males but they were pick-up bars.   Bars where white women went to find black cock. I didn't need to be Einstein to figure out what George's lastest fantasy was. His only problem was that I was a slut that wasn't going to fuck. I wouldn't even give them blow jobs in the car park. I knew he was disappointed but I still wasn't ready to change my mind. 

This went on for several years and one day I told him about a guy at work who kept hitting on me. George encouraged me to let him have his way with me. While I resisted my resolve was steadily fading until, after much encouragement from George, I eventually gave in. 

One day I was having lunch with my would-be-lover and my resolve crumbled and I decided that I would give him what he and George wanted. 

So I took him home and spent two very energetic hours in bed. He came in my mouth and then my pussy before we returned to work. I left the bed as it was so George could see the evidence. 

To make sure he understood the significance I called him at work and told him to have a look in the bedroom when he got home. I felt naughty and I felt terrific.

It was the breakthrough George had been waiting for and that night we had some great sex. He knew that the slut in me had finally resurfaced.

The next weekend I dressed in my slut outfit with more anticipation than before and we went to one of his favorite bars. 

"Renee will you let yourself go tonight?"

I didn't answer just kissed him.

"Are you going to let the guys touch you wherever they want."

Again I smiled. "Yes George I will let them finger me if they want" I said as we entered the bar. 

We were having a warm up drink and I was reflecting, "you asked me out the first time because you wanted a blow job and you knew I was a slut and an easy lay." 

George laughed happily. "Yes, and I was right. I got my blow job and a fuck on the first date." 

Chuckling sexily I added, "along with every other boy in town." You all got the same treatment. And now you want me to be a slut again and not just dress like one." 

"Yes I do," was the simple reply. "I have been dreaming about you being with other men for years now."

"I also notice you say men. Does that mean you want to share me with lots of men?"

Again his reply was a simple yes. 

"I was known as the blow job queen at school. I haven't got a clue as to how many I sucked off while I was at school but I always had about thirty boys on my regular list. That's pretty whorish. Do you want me to be like that again?" 

"The very thought of makes me horny as heck. It makes me hot." 

I looked around the bar noticing the number of men to women.

"This is a pretty seedy pickup joint." Then I fixed my gaze on my husband. "And you dress me, your wife, up like this, like a whore and bring me here to a bar filled black guys. So you want me to be a slut for black cock?"

"Yes I do and I have also been dreaming of watching you in a group sex situation."

I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I thought so. I have been looking at the pictures and stories you find on the net. Well your dream may just come true but be careful of what you wish for. You might get more than you bargain for.

Then I left him and approached a black guy that had been caught my eye. I went straight up to him and asked him to dance. 

After dancing for just a few minutes his hands started to wander. "That your husband sitting with you?"

"Yes and he likes to see me get touched up so feel free."

After the dance he led me back to his table, sat me down and kissed me on the mouth. I returned the kiss with passion as he fondled my beasts inside my top. It felt so naughty and nice. 

During the next few dances I the guy's hands were all over me. He told me to remove my panties so I did. I took them off on the dance floor and gave them to him. The excitement I felt at that moment almost made my legs fold under me. During the dance he lifted my skirt several times displaying my butt to anyone who wanted to look. 

I encouraged him because and I was kissing him and grinding my crotch into his. He undid the buttons of my shirt until my boobs were exposed. We were putting on quite a show and I received encouraging comments from the guys and I knew that George would be drooling. A few of the girls called me a slut but, as before, it only encouraged me. I still loved being called a slut.

George got another drink and watched me from our table. I was giving him what he wanted and it made me feel warm all over. My old desires didn't take long to surge forward and I gave my dance partner complete access to my body. I felt his hand between my legs and I looked over to see if George was watching. Of course he was. He was transfixed his eyes locked on me. I jumped a little as I felt a couple of fingers enter my pussy and I lowered myself to increase the pressure on my clit. Several men at the bar were keen observers.

A few minutes later the fingers left my pussy and he presented them to my mouth. I sucked on them and then kissed him with open mouth. I pulled him into me so I could feel his erection on my groin and I ground my pussy onto his cock. Here I was, a married white woman, dressed like a slut kissing and dancing up close and very personal with a black man who was touching me in very intimate places. There was no doubt in any onlooker's eyes as to what type of woman I was. I was a slut, a whore. I was in my element.

After the dance and some very hot action I led my man back to our table, sat him down and kissed him again before introducing him to George.

In a very sexy voice I said "Jim I would like you to meet George my husband. He dresses me like a slut because he wants me to be one. He wants me to find men like you to touch me up on the dance floor and he also wants me to suck you off and fuck you. Is that right George?"

My approach took both of them completely by surprise but my husband did manage to squeeze out a reply. Licked his lips he managed to say, "yes it is." It was an ice breaking speech and it left none of us in any doubt about what we were going to be talking about. 

Laughing I said "and you men say women are complicated. I don't think I will ever understand why you would want your wife to get screwed by lots of different guys George but I am not going to complain. I am going to do it and if my past experience is any indication I'll be very good at it." 

Jim has been asking me about my previous sex life and I thought you might like to be included so here we are.

I took hold of Jim's hand and placed it on my breast holding it pressing his hand as I enjoyed a pleasant pressure as he rolled my nipple between his fingers. George when we were dancing I told Jim that I used to love sucking cock. Like all men he wanted to know if I swallowed and of course I said yes. I know that all men like to cum in a woman's mouth and they just love it if she swallows as well. Now my husband wants me to start sucking guys off and for me to swallow. I don't know what George will get out of it but I intend to do it. Jim I was known as the blow job queen at school. I had my first fuck at fourteen and it was also the first time I tasted semen. The boy didn't ask me if he could cum in my mouth he just did and I didn't mind. It was cool being able to make a boy cum and I liked it.

"Would you like to experience my sucking talents?" 

Without a word Jim took my hand and we went to the men's toilet. It was great and I felt like a total slut. Everyone seeing us knew where we were going and what I was going to do. When we entered the toilet Jim didn't even go into a stall but leaned up against the wall undid his pants and pulled his cock out. I dropped to my knees and sucked him off. A few men had followed us and they stood watching as I performed the requested task. My pussy was so wet I could feel it running down my legs. Comments from the spectators were also turning me on. One guy asked if he could go next. Jim lasted quite a while before he gave me what I wanted - a mouth full of semen. As we were leaving the guy asked again if he could be next and I told him maybe next time. 

As we walked through the bar to our table I felt eyes following every step that I took. Everyone was looking at me and I knew that they all thought I was a slut. I felt the old thrill return and they were right. I was a slut and had become a slut once again and I knew that this was just the beginning. 

When I sat down I looked around at the men watching and laughing happily I said to both men at my table. "I love it. I love it when people look at me and call me a slut and a whore. When I hear it I get so hot and horny. I love having the reputation of being an easy lay. Then on an impulse I gave George an open mouth kiss pushing my tongue into his mouth. He kissed me back and that made me feel really sexy because he knew what I had just done. 

After a few minutes I settled back into Jim's arms and he played with my breasts as George looked on. "You know Jim, when you lifted my dress up in front of those guys it reminded me of school and I felt really horny again. I loved them seeing my body and I could see that they were thinking that I was a slut and I got hot. I also love the fact that they will have figured out that George is my husband and I'm letting you feel me up right in front of him. It's cheap and nasty and I love it."

"Yes it is and I can see that George loves it too. Have you ever had group sex?"

"No not really. The closest I got was with one of my girlfriends. We would both fuck the guys in the same room and sometimes we would swap partners. Then I giggled and said, "that is what I was doing the first time George saw me. I was stark naked fucking a guy in the other bed when he walked in."

Then I looked at George before adding. "I haven't had group sex but I know my husband wants me to have a gangbang."

"And do you want one?" 

"It's not up to me. George knows I'll do whatever he wants. If he wants me to have a gangbang then one I'll have one. It's up to him."

"But would you like it?"

"Yes of course I would. I love being used by men for their pleasure. I have always enjoyed giving myself unconditionally to men. Now I realize that that desire has always been there lying quietly until George brought it out of me again." 

"Well what do you want to do now?"

I leaned over and kissed him and said "nothing tonight but I'll meet you here next week and you can take me somewhere and fuck me."

Then I looked at George and, with a happy smile on my face I asked, "that is what you want isn't it?"

With a glowing face he nodded his head in agreement.

I gave Jim my number and told him to call me to make the arrangements. 

That night George and I had great sex. As you would expect we had a great sex life but that night it was extra special. Something had opened up in me and I felt free again. I loved the thought of lying underneath other men, my legs spread wide with stranger's cock embedded inside my body as my husband sat home minding the children thinking about what I was doing. 

When we were lying in the after glow I asked him if he had enjoyed what I had done and was going to do. 

"Yes I did and I'm looking forward to next week."

Just then the phone rang. It was Jim He wanted to speak to me so I hit the speakerphone and told him to go ahead. 

"Hi Renee I just got home and wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed you tonight. I wanted you to know I think that you are great and I really want to get together with you sometime soon."

"Jim and I can't wait to have your cock inside me." 

I had my hand on George's cock as I said this and I felt it harden. "I have been telling my hubby what you did to me on the dance floor and in the toilet and if the erection I have in my hand is any indication he's very happy about it. Is next Friday night ok with you?"

"Yes meet me at the same bar and we'll have a bit of fun then I'll take you to my place." 

"Sounds good to me."

I listened for a moment then smiled, looked at George and answered the question.

"Jim there is no sex act I won't do for you. On Friday night I am your slut. I expect you to treat me like one. And Jim, I don't like condoms so if your health card is up to date you can fuck me bareback." 

There was a pause as I heard him suck his breath in. "It is. See you Friday," and he ended the call.

I put the phone down and looked at George for a few minutes. It was a very erotic moment for me. I had just made a date to meet another man for sex while I was naked and in bed with my husband. 

"Well George your sweet little wife is becoming the slut you wanted. You have a week to change your mind but it might already be too late.

"I won't be changing my mind." 

So for the next few days I returned to my routine with two exceptions. George took me shopping for a new outfit and set up a Yahoo profile for me. He took some photographs of me and posted them. The pictures showed me sitting on a step legs slightly apart my pussy on display. One showed me leaning over a chair my back to the camera providing the viewer with a great view on my butt. Others showed me in various poses ensuring that all of my private parts were placed on display. It wasn't long before I was spending a fair bit of time chatting to several men several of them keen to meet me for sex. One man helped me in a different way. He has helped me to write this story.

Anyway Friday night arrived and I prepared myself for my lover. 

I came out of the shower and George took me into his arms and hugged me.

"You look and smell sensational."

"Thank you." Smiling I gave him my diaphragm.

"Fit this for me will you just in case I don't think condoms will be necessary."

This was yet another one of those completely erotic moments that defy description. The strength of the feelings I had, as my husband prepared me for sex with another man was almost overwhelming. Needless to say he did as I asked and it was clear that he was every bit as excited as I was.

It wasn't just his erection that gave him away it was his entire attitude. He really wanted this. As he fitted the diaphragm I lowered my face into his hair. "You are enjoying this aren't you George? You're getting horny getting me ready for another man to enjoy."

He nodded his head in agreement.

When he had finished he stood, took my face in his hands and kissed me. 

"I love you. Have fun I'll wait up for you."

As I walked into the bar I was shaking with a mixture of excitement, nervousness and anticipation. The music was thumping. When my eyes had become accustomed to the low light I spotted my date at the bar. He waved me over and turned to the bar tender to order a drink. I know that I described this as a pick up bar and it is but that doesn't mean that the men are not good decent people. My date was no exception. He was a decent and considerate man.

He gave me a warm hug then handed me my drink. "Am I glad to see you. After my behavior the other night I was afraid that you wouldn't turn up. I don't normally behave like that. Smiling broadly he added in a mischievous voice. But it's your fault because you made me so incredibly horny." 

I could see he was embarrassed and I set him at ease by kissing him warmly.

"That's cool Jim and I know what I did to you. As I recall I made the suggestion and it happened because I wanted it to happen. And I did because you made me incredibly horny. So how about we share the blame hey."

I saw his body visibly relax and his eyes sparkled with humor. "Then we have a repeat performance tonight?"

Glancing around the bar I saw several people looking at us paying particular attention to me. It was obvious that I was a married lady out with someone who wasn't my husband. 

I leaned close to his face and kissed him. "Yes if that's what you want. I've come here tonight to please you in any way you want. My husband's told me to make sure I do whatever you want and I will."

It looked like he was having trouble understanding just what I said because he didn't say anything. He just took hold of my hand, raised it to his lips and kissed my fingers lightly.

The next thirty minutes were spent on small talk. I took the opportunity to explain my conditions. They were simple. We would meet for sex. That is the only reason I have for meeting him. He stated that the last thing he wanted was another complicated relationship. 

I told him that we would only meet for sex and that I expected him to use me however he wished. I wasn't necessarily interested in conversation unless it was about sex. My agenda was sex and more sex. I wanted to know what turned him on. What he liked and what his fantasies were.




Renee Ch. 02



Kyle went to the library after work, hoping Renee might be there. She wasn't. He didn't want it to end like it had last night. They had made love. Afterwards, she cried. She cried for reasons he didn't understand at the time, didn't want to understand. But now, here, in the bright light of the third-floor Renaissance Lit section, where he'd met her for the first time three evenings previous, he was able to gain some clarity, some insight.

As far as he knew and could tell, he was the first person she'd ever cheated with. Though she had good reason to, and probably had for a long time, she had never strayed from her marriage. But what about him? He'd never experienced anything like last night. How could she share something like that with him, and just walk away, without a word? Without an explanation? How could she leave him hanging like this, dangling from the edge of yesterday, grasping onto the faint, receding hope of tomorrow?

But she had left him hanging, and he had no way to contact her. Hell, he didn't even know her last name, so he couldn't look her up online or in the phone book. He closed his eyes, and images of her, naked, on his lap, formed in his mind's eye. The way she closed her eyes as they made love, the way her golden hair fell away, over her shoulders, the way she moaned and purred with satisfaction he hadn't thought himself capable of giving her until he did it. 

This was no good. He couldn't just sit here, daydreaming, wishing upon a star that in all probability didn't exist, or if it did, was burning on its last, feeble stores of energy, about to collapse in on itself and be snuffed out like a candle in a cosmic hurricane. He needed to get out of here, try to move on. Maybe even take Trista up on her offer to set him up with this Jennifer she spoke so highly of.

Yeah. That all sounded good. But he didn't get up. He just sat there, his head in his hands, thinking about Renee, seeing her smile right there, in front of him, close enough to touch, yet so far away. So impossibly far away. . . 

♣

"So, you still gonna be the mystery man this morning?" It was Trista, standing at the mouth of his cubicle, hands on hips, 36DD breasts thrust forward in the pose she liked best. She was wearing a daring low-cut pink top this morning, exposing a healthy amount of cleavage.

He didn't want to deal with her probing, her questioning. Not today. "You know, we should set up a meeting this afternoon with Gerry," he said. "For the User's Guide. He has some schematics for his latest program I don't understand."

Trista shook her head. "Sure," she said. She stood there a moment longer, evidently considering whether or not to prod further. As usual with her, valor got the better part of discretion. "So, c'mon, Kyle. Tell me. Did you get lucky last night? The suspense is killing me. And Jennifer won't wait around forever, y'know."

How could he handle this delicately? Trista was the only other technical writer in the department. He didn't want to alienate her. And he valued her friendship, too—up to a point, anyway. But he couldn't deal with this right now.

"I'm . . . I'm just in a strange place in my life," he said. Which was definitely the truth. "I'll let you know about Jennifer soon, I promise. But right now, I just need a little more time. Okay?"

She shrugged, but didn't seem offended, and he was relieved. "Well, all right. But like I said, let me know soon. Jennifer is a real catch. If you don't act soon, someone will beat you to her. And, with all due respect, Kyle, more time is the last thing you need. You need to act on impulse once in a while. Jesus. You're twenty-five years old! What I'd give to be your age again. Don't waste it, Kyle. Live a little. Take a fucking chance."

Yeah. Take a fucking chance, like he had the other night, with Renee. But where had that got him? What good did it do?

♣

After work, he again decided to give the library another shot. He figured, if she wanted to see him again, she'd be more likely to go there rather than back to his apartment. He felt stupid, desperate, going back to the library—but he needed to see if she was there. He couldn't give up, not yet.

When he found a parking space near the library, he put eight quarters into the meter. That would give him two hours—just on the slim hope that he might need them. As he stepped out into the evening, the November air smacked him like a cold blast of water. 

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, bowed his head against the wind, and walked toward the front steps of the library—a brown, four story building with wide, tall columns and a collection of stone gargoyles perched on the ledge of the upper roof. Sometimes, on warmer days, when the elements weren't making him curl in on himself like a human turtle, he would glance up at those gargoyles. They reminded him of guardians, ready, if needed, to swoop down and defend their territory. They—

"Hey, watch where you're goin', buddy," a husky guy in a black coat barked, as the two bumped into each other.

"Sorry," Kyle said, feeling disoriented. Was this an omen? Maybe it was a mistake to come here. She probably wasn't inside. And even if she was . . . what would they say? What would they do? He pictured long, awkward silences, embarrassed blushes, shame-laced small talk. Did he really want to deal with that?

Still, he found himself at the entrance now. He walked in, headed for the stairs, climbed to the third floor, and proceeded to the far end of it, toward the Renaissance Lit section. As he neared it, he again told himself it was pointless. There would be nothing but the usual assortment of dusty, neglected volumes, the table, unoccupied as always, the rhythmic hum of the heat blowing through the vents. . . . 

But the table wasn't unoccupied. She was there. Sitting in the same chair she'd sat in three nights ago, her nose buried in a book, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, getting in the way. She brushed her hair aside, glanced up, pushed her thick wire-frame glasses up the bridge of her nose, and froze. She was looking at him, but didn't acknowledge him. 

Finally, she smiled. 

His legs felt like they weighed two tons each, but he managed to work his way to the table, pull out the chair across from her, and sit down. She held eye contact for a moment, then looked down, at her book. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and a gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket attached.

She glanced up at him again, then followed his eyes, to the locket she wore.

"It was a gift," she said. "My husband bought it for me on our first wedding anniversary. Seems so long ago." 

His jaw stiffened at the mention of her husband. "I didn't think I'd see you here," he managed to say.

"I didn't think I'd be here," she said. Then, after a pause: "But I felt bad, leaving so suddenly the other night. I was hoping you'd come. We really need to talk, Kyle."

He was surprised by how easily she was able to talk to him. She wasn't acting like the guilt-ridden tortured soul he expected to see. Did she want to pursue a full-blown affair? Was that it? But then he told himself to cool it. That couldn't be what she wanted to talk about. Since when did such good fortune with women ever come his way?

"The other night, we . . . I . . ." She paused again, closed the book she had in front of her. The snap it made caused him to jump a little in his seat. "I just don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. I've never done anything like that before. I've always been faithful. I still can't believe I did it."

"You don't regret it, do you?" A bold question, but what did he have to lose at this point?

She shook her head. "It's not that simple, Kyle. I mean, yes, I do. I regret it very much. I cried a lot yesterday, thinking about it. When my husband called, I could barely talk to him. It almost felt like he knew, like he suspected . . . but I know that was just my imagination. But I . . . there's a part of me that doesn't regret it, either. You're such a sweet guy, and it's been so long since someone made feel special the way you did. So, is that convoluted enough for you?" She managed a half-smile.

He smiled back, and they sat there, without talking. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was warm; soft, even. He looked at her, and she looked at him. The desire, the longing she felt the other night was still there. He could almost smell her need. She said she had just come to talk, to set things straight. But he wondered. Again, he decided to take a chance. 

"Renee, will you come back to my place with me?." As soon as the words came out, he grimaced. His approach was about as graceful as a pulled groin. Still, he wanted to be honest. He didn't want the nervousness he always felt around women to get the better of him. Not this time. Not with her.

She squirmed in her seat. "Kyle, I can't say I'm not tempted. Because I am. Very much. But we can't, we just can't. Don't you see . . .?"

Before he could respond, there was a chirp. "Oh, I thought I turned that off," she said, and reached into her pocket, pulling out her cell. She pressed a couple of keys, read the text she just received. She looked at it for a long time, as if reading it over repeatedly, then shook her head, blew on her bangs.

She frantically keyed in a response and sent it off, then she turned the phone off, put it back in her pocket.

She folded her hands on the cover of the book in front of her, sat there for a long while. Then she said, "Does your offer still stand, Kyle?"

He swallowed, unable to believe his ears. He almost asked her to repeat herself. But all he did was smile, and nod.

♣

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked her when he took her coat and gestured for her to sit down on the couch.

She shook her head. "No thanks, I'm fine. You know, Kyle, before we talk about anything else, before we do anything, I really need to say something, okay?"

He sat down beside her.

"When I saw you tonight, I never intended to come back here," she said. "I just wanted to talk, like I said. But that text I got . . . you probably were able to guess, it was from my husband." She shook her head again, rubbed her face with her left hand. "I guess he picked a bad time to send me one of his wise-ass remarks." 

"Well, depends on your point of view," Kyle said, inching closer to her. Bold, he kept telling himself. Be bold. Don't be a wimp. "Maybe he picked the perfect time." He reached out, stroked her long blonde hair, running his fingers through it.

She tilted her head to the side, allowing him a better angle. "But, Kyle . . . I just don't want you to get the wrong idea." What? That she had come here because she was hurt? That she wanted to spend the night with him, forget her asshole husband for a while? How could he get the wrong idea? "I really shouldn't even be here. It's not fair . . . to me, or to you."

"What do you mean?"

She looked at him. Through the lenses of her glasses, her eyes were so blue, so blue. He wanted to dive into them, become immersed in them, to see and experience nothing but that blue, everywhere, surrounding him. "I want us to make a memory tonight. Something to think back on when we need to, or want to. Maybe when we're feeling lonely. And God knows, I've been feeling alone in my marriage for a long time now." She paused. He was about to speak, offer a response, but she placed a finger to his lips. "My husband will be back tomorrow afternoon," she went on. "And my kids. Johnny and Matt." She smiled. "They're the best, they really are. I love my children, Kyle. I still love my husband, too, even though things haven't been going so great. I don't want to hurt them. I can't have an affair, can't get involved in a relationship with you. Do you understand?"

He heard her, if that's what she meant.

"I'm really sorry," she continued. "I feel very selfish coming back here tonight. Maybe it was stupid. I guess I just want to get lost in you, for one night. I want to make a memory, Kyle. That's all I can do. That's all I can offer you."

He wanted to blurt something out, to ask her to reconsider. Didn't she know that he had feelings for her? He could give her a much better life than her husband. Why didn't she divorce the creep? Why didn't she . . .? But then he got hold of himself. What was he to her, really? A kid. Ten years her junior. A nerd, just starting out in the world, a newcomer to New England. She had a life, firmly in place. She had a family. Yes, he understood. It was a bitter understanding, tinged with acid. But they did have tonight. Who needed tomorrow, wasn't that what the old song said? A week ago, practically a virgin, if he had been asked whether or not he'd grasp onto an opportunity like this, he'd have responded with a resounding yes.

Besides, maybe he could lavish her with enough love, enough affection, that she might reconsider. Maybe, in the morning, she would rethink her position. If he just adored her well enough, made love to her tenderly enough, satisfied her every whim and desire. Maybe . . .

He smiled, nodded. "Carpe diem," he said.

She smiled back. "Carpe mecum sempiterne noctem," she said. When she saw his blank expression, she laughed, and offered an explanation. "Sorry, I'm a nerd, remember? I took Latin in college, and still remember a few phrases."

"But what you just said . . . what does it mean?"

She looked at him, and the blue in her eyes seemed to swim, dance. There was a hunger in them. "It means . . . 'seize the night forever with me,'" she said.

He felt like laughing. He felt like doing a cartwheel. He felt like scrunching up into the fetal position, protecting himself from feelings that were too sharp, too pointed. He felt like crying. Most of all, he felt like kissing her.

Their lips met, and then their arms were around each other. She kissed him with abandon, moaning in his mouth. Even through the barrier of their clothes, he could feel the heat in her. . . . 

It was happening so fast this time. She was a whirlwind. He had never experienced such passion. Before he knew it, she was kneeling on the floor, before him, unzipping his pants, pulling them down his legs. She rested her elbows on the sofa, on either side of his thighs. Eyeing the tent in his briefs, she licked her lips.

He froze up. She had seen his dick the other night, but it had only been for a brief moment. Now she was right there, kneeling down in front of him. She was at eye level with his crotch, with his pathetic five-inch penis, his inadequate excuse of manhood. She—

She reached for the waistband of his underwear, started to pull them down. He fought the urge to grab onto her hands, prevent her from doing it, but instead, he lifted his butt off of the sofa cushion, allowing her access.

She tossed his briefs aside, looked up at him. "One thing my husband doesn't like me to do anymore is blow him," she said. "So, I've kind of been wanting to do something like this for a long time now." Again, she licked her lips, gave him a wink.

She was acting so . . . pleased . . . with his dick! How could she be? He didn't want to express his insecurities, didn't want to go fishing for words of reassurance. But he couldn't help himself.

"You're not . . . you're not turned off?" he fumbled out.

She tilted her head, blew on her bangs. "Kyle, didn't we go through this the last time? I think you're super-cute, and very desirable. Do you want me to show you how much?"

"Yes, please." It came out as more of a whimper than a statement. He was thankful he was sitting on the couch. If he were standing up, he was sure his legs would turn to Jell-O, and he'd topple over, onto the floor. No one, ever, had gone down on him. Not once in his twenty-five years had he received a blow job. He nearly came, then and there, with the sheer anticipation of it.

She leaned forward, placing more of her weight on her elbows. For a fleeting moment he wished she'd take her glasses off so she wouldn't be able to see so well, but then he felt her lips wrap themselves around his cock-head. She held them there, then slid up and down his five-inch shaft, slowly, as if savoring his taste.

He couldn't believe how good it felt. He'd always imagined how it would feel, but he never believed it could be like this. She increased the pressure and tempo, and he bucked at the hips. Already he was close. Then she was back, playing with his tip, flicking her tongue out, licking him, teasing, tantalizing.

"Unnnh," he moaned. His body was ready to cum, but his mind wasn't. Not yet. He wanted to prolong the pleasure.

But he wasn't able to. She glanced up at him, winked again, and that's all it took. The visual of her blonde hair falling onto his groin, of her lips wrapped around his cock, the sensation of her mouth on him, having her way with him . . . it was all too much. He bucked violently, grunted, felt the seminal fluid rushing through him, racing, sprinting. He felt a sense of inevitability, like a raging river crashing through a dam, and then he let loose, squirting into her mouth.

For a moment, she looked surprised, her eyes grew wide, but she kept on sucking him all the way through it. And then she swallowed his cum.

"So . . . how was I?" she said, still kneeling on the floor.

He was lightheaded. It felt like he might float up, bump his head into the ceiling. "Paradise," was all he could say.

She smiled, looked at his rapidly deflating dick. "Hmm, looks like there's a little mess." And then her lips were on him again, licking his cock-head clean. This act alone returned him into a state of semi-hardness.

The next thing he knew, she was beside him on the sofa again, and then her lips were on his, and then her tongue was deep in his mouth, thrusting, parrying, and he tasted his own fluids, drank in the residue of his release. 

He felt her hand move down his abdomen, settle in his crotch, and her fingers wrap themselves around his dick as they kissed. She stroked him, rubbed him, played with him until he was fully hard again.

"Mmmmm," she moaned as they kissed, as she squeezed his penis. Her hands were so soft, her skin so smooth . . .

He still was in a state of disbelief. This beautiful thirty-five-year-old woman with the long blonde hair, the sexy, petite figure, this woman he was so attracted to, seemed to love his dick. His dick, which he had always felt so ashamed of. She had licked it, sucked it, pleasured it, and now she was stroking it, not being able to get enough of it. Perhaps even wanting it again . . . 

He reached behind her as they made out, tugged on her shirt, releasing it from her slacks, untucking it. She reciprocated, breaking their kiss so she could unbutton his shirt, and then guide it off his shoulders. He was completely naked now, and yet his self-consciousness, his sense of inadequacy, was fading. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to feel really and truly desirable. 

He wanted to say something, to thank her, to tell her she was beautiful, in every way. But he didn't want to risk breaking the mood, didn't want to stick a dagger into the passion and lust that was boiling over, spilling onto both of them, ready to erupt.

But then the phone rang and did the job for him.

"Oh shit," he said, just as she was about to kiss him again. 

"You have an answering machine, right?" she said. The lust in her voice was so thick he could have reached out and grabbed a hold of it.

"Yes," he croaked, and they kissed, and her fingers again found his penis.

But then the answering machine beeped and his mother's voice came on.

"Kyle? Hello? Heellllloooooooo? You know I don't like leaving messages on these things, Kyle. Pick up! Where are you?"

"Shit," he said again. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I better answer it. She left me two messages yesterday when I wasn't here, and I didn't return her calls, so . . ." He felt like a loser. He needed to interrupt making love to a beautiful, horny woman so he could talk to Mommy? Good grief.




Renee Ch. 02



But Renee just smiled, let him get up. She even gave his dick a little extra squeeze for good measure.

He went to the phone, picked it up as his mom was still leaving one of her trademark rambling voice mails.

"Hi, Mom," he said, cutting off her monologue.

"About time," she answered. "What were you doing, Kyle? Not watching one of those filthy movies I always tell you not to rent, were you?"

He almost laughed, but managed to hold it in. "Uh, no, no, Mom. Nothing like that." Suddenly he felt a kiss on his cock-head. He looked down. Renee was kneeling in front of him, stripped down to her bra and panties—God, she was quick!—taking his dick into her mouth again. He gaped down at her. She pulled her mouth off his penis, smiled up at him, then went back to sucking him.

"Have you met any nice girls yet, Kyle?" his mom asked him from a thousand miles away, while the blonde head before him bobbed and weaved over his dick. He put his hand on the counter, supporting his weight. His legs were getting wobbly. It felt so good. It was almost unreal, the sensation of her lips on him . . . 

"Uh . . . yes, Mom, I have." And then he sighed, softly. 

"Well, that's nice, Kyle! Why didn't you tell us? Is she decent? She isn't the kind of girl who wants to kiss on a first date or anything, is she?" Good old Mom. So old-fashioned. If she only knew. "You just need to watch yourself, Kyle. You know how naïve you can be. Just make sure you pick someone who appreciates you for you, and not just some tramp who wants to, well, you know . . ."

She was increasing the tempo on his dick, and he buckled at the knees. He couldn't take much more of this, or else he'd blow his load again, and here they hadn't even made love yet! How many times could he cum in one night before the well went dry?

"Okay, Mom," he said to something she said, he wasn't sure what. He was only half-listening now. "Listen, Mom, I'm sorry to cut this so short, but I really have to go. I have, uh, something cooking on the stove, and it's, er, almost done." 

A silence, for a moment. Then: "Are you sure you're eating well, Kyle?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm sure." Renee suddenly increased the pressure of her sucking, nearly biting him now, and her slurping noises filled the room. He wondered if his mom could hear them, clear across the phone line. He also wondered if she could hear the soft moans that were starting to spring forth, uncontrollable, from his lips.

"Well, all right, I won't hold you up, Kyle. You probably have a date with that nice girl you just met, and are too shy to tell me," she added with a giggle. He giggled back, as Renee continued to suck him.

"Okay, Mom, talk to you soon," he said, and hung up. Then he moaned loudly. He'd been bottling that up during the entire phone call. It felt good to finally let it out.

She stopped sucking him, gave him a lick, then stood up. Just in time. If she had continued, even for just a few more seconds, he was sure he'd have cum. 

"So, am I naughty enough for you?" she asked him, putting her arms around his neck. He still couldn't believe this was happening. She had been transformed from a conflicted woman back at the library into a sex-crazed dynamo. Carpe diem, indeed. He wished the clock would stand still, that this night, this moment, could be crystallized in time. Did it really have to come to an end? 

But he caught himself. Why think of endings? They'd only just begun . . .

She kissed him, but he broke the kiss. He wanted her, now. He pulled out of her embrace, took her by the hand, led her into his small bedroom, with the window that overlooked the river, flowing below them, silently, in the November dark. 

He hopped onto the bed, expecting her to join him. But she took off her glasses and just stood there, several feet away, bathed in the trickle of light streaming in from the kitchen, a confused expression on her face.

"'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?'" she said, doing her best damsel-in-distress impersonation. She groped at the air, pretending not to see. 

He laughed. She was so cute, so damn cute. Why couldn't all women quote Shakespeare like that?

"Here. Here!" he said. "Fair Juliet. Thou dost shine like the sun, come hither, to me. 'For ne'er saw I true beauty till this night.'"

"Mmm, Act 1, Scene 5, one of my favorite lines in all of Shakespeare," she said.

"How'd you know that?" he said. "The other night you told me you hadn't had a chance to read Shakespeare in years. And now you're giving me chapter and verse!"

She laughed. It was beautiful to hear. It sounded free, unencumbered by guilt, unfettered. "Well, I cheated," she said. "Remember, I took out 'The Complete Works of Shakespeare' from the library the other night. I did a little reading last night, happened to come across the line you just quoted."

"Blimey!" he said, and she laughed again. 

Then her expression changed, and a wild look came to her eyes. She went to the night stand beside his bed, placed her glasses on top of it, then reached behind her, unclasped her bra. It fell to the floor in a heap, and his mouth gaped open. Even in the half-light of the gloomy room, he saw that her soft, full breasts looked even lovelier than he remembered. But before he could fully drink in the sight, she wiggled out of her panties, and now his gaze dropped a few inches. Finally, she took off her necklace with the heart-shaped locket, placing it on the night stand beside her glasses. Completely naked now, save for her diamond ring and wedding band . . . 

She came to him, curled up beside him on the bed. Immediately he reached down, caressing her fully shaved mound. It was so smooth, so soft, just like the rest of her. He flicked on his lamp, beside his bed, careful not to brush his forearm against her glasses and send them toppling to the floor. The light was muted, dimmed by the dark-brown shade. But it was light enough to see how beautiful she was, to appreciate how fair her skin was, how long and lustrous her hair.

They kissed again, as he rubbed her clit and she reached down to stroke his penis. His dick felt like it was on overload. It had received more stimulation in this one night than it had in all the years previous—well, not including self-play, anyway. And he knew he'd masturbate to memories of tonight over and over in the days to come. But there he went again, thinking of tomorrow. He reminded himself to think only of tonight, this moment. Nothing else.

She rolled onto her back, moaning, and he climbed on top of her, straddling her, looking down at her nakedness, at her hair, which fanned out on the pillow like streams of sunshine, turned into solid, silken, golden strands through the magic of some special alchemy.

"You are so perfectly beautiful, Renee," he said, and kissed her. His kissed lingered, softly, softly . . .

She wrapped her arms around him, and he positioned himself just so, as they continued to kiss. He wasted little time entering her, and she gasped into his mouth, and he felt her fingernails dig into his back, he felt the pressure of her embrace intensify, her body tense, and then relax, melting in his arms. 

They kissed as he made love to her. He went soft and slow, prolonging the pleasure. He felt like he'd cum several times, but he managed to hold back the floodtide. In and out of her he moved, the wet embrace of her vaginal walls a moist glove around his penis. Her moans grew louder, the bucking of her hips grew faster. He knew it was time to pick up the tempo.

He broke their kiss, looked at her. She smiled at him, then moaned as he began to thrust faster. He propped himself up on his elbows, leaned in, took her left nipple in his mouth, sucking it, licking it, and she thrashed her head from side to side. Her moans were the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard, her gasps of pleasure music to his ears.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, as he banged away. Sweat had formed on her forehead, and her bangs were sticking. He licked a drop of perspiration from her breast. He felt his own body heating up, too, and a drop of sweat fell from his forehead, onto her neck. 

He was getting close now, so close. He went faster, faster, faster, hoping she would cum first, not wanting to disappoint her.

She did. She let out a scream, and he felt her juices drench his penis as he pistoned, in and out, in and out. Her fingernails dug so hard into his back when she came, he wondered if perhaps she had drawn blood. And then, the next thing he knew, he was cumming, too, a torrent of ecstasy rushing through him and into her. His whole body shook, and he roared as he came, holding her so tight, so tight, in his arms.

They rolled over onto their sides, still holding each other, his softening penis still inside of her, still joined. He clung to her, pulled her even closer. An inch of separation between their bodies was too much, a millimeter too vast. 

He caressed her back, kissed her hair, her lips, her ear. And somehow managed to hold her even closer. 

She blew the bangs out of her eyes, or tried to. Some of them still stuck to her forehead, and wouldn't budge. She laughed.

"I must look like such a mess," she said.

"You look perfect," he said. Suddenly he felt almost like crying. Their lovemaking had been almost too good, too beautiful. Was it possible that something could be so rare, so precious, that it hurt? He'd heard of such sentiments before, read about them, but had never experienced them—until now. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. The look of concern, of compassion, on her face was too much. He had to glance away, or else the tears, which threatened, might really come.

He felt her arms tighten around him, her lips brush against his neck. The feel of her breasts, as they squished against his chest, was heaven, pure heaven.

He swallowed, looked at her. "It's just . . . this was . . . this is . . . the best night of my life. I guess I don't want it to end."

Her lips moved, the beginnings of a smile. There was such tenderness in her eyes. "I told you the last time I was here that I can barely see without my glasses," she said. "But I'm close enough to you right now to see everything I need to. You're really the sweetest guy I ever met, Kyle." She kissed him, squeezed him in her arms. 

"Why do you have to go back to him?" he blurted out, pulling away, sitting up against the headboard. He felt like an ass, bringing this up, now of all moments. The sweetest guy she'd ever met? Yeah, he was some sweetheart, all right. "If he doesn't treat you right . . ."

She sat up, too, slid in beside him. "Please, Kyle. We've already talked about this. I knew this wasn't fair to you. That all I could give you was tonight. I'm sorry. Maybe this was a mistake."

Maybe it was. There was so much torture. Every minute that passed was a minute closer to her leaving. 

"Do you want me to go?" she asked then. The question seemed to bolster his resolve. He swallowed again, shook his head. 

"No," he said. "You told me before we started how things would go. I guess I just don't want to lose you, after tonight." But somewhere, deep inside, he still held on to a faint, flickering hope that maybe she would change her mind come morning. "But we do have tonight, right?" He smiled. "Carpe diem."

She smiled back, caressed his cheek. "Carpe mecum sempiterne noctem." 

He had to gather himself. It was hard to grasp that this was real. He'd barely ever been to second base with a woman. And now, here he was, in the post-coitus afterglow, sitting beside a beautiful blonde, the two of them naked, hours of lovemaking still ahead of them. He told himself to get his shit straight. There would be time enough for missing her later. But not now. Don't miss her before she's even gone. . . .

Still, he had to ask . . . "Do you . . . I mean, it's none of my business, but . . . I know you told me you love your husband, that you still care for him as a person. But are you in love with him?"

She slid in even closer, until her hip was firmly pressed against his, her leg against his, her torso against his. Her nearness, the smell of her, the still-tangible fragrance of her arousal, caused his dick to stir. 

She draped her arm around his upper back, nestled her head on his shoulder. "I don't know," she said. "It's strange. I mean, I love him. I always will. I still think he's attractive." Somehow this stung. "And yes, I do want to make love, and when he repeatedly doesn't want to, it hurts. At the same time, I am so pissed off with him so much of the time." Ah, better. This eased the sting. But why should it? He wanted her to be happy with her life, didn't he? He was being selfish. 

She paused, clearly thinking things over. "It's funny, in a sad sort of way," she went on. "I've been so mad at him lately, I haven't even thought about it. Am I in love with him? But thinking about it now . . . yes. I think I still am. That must sound really hypocritical. I mean, look at me! Look at us."

"It doesn't," he said. "I think I understand." And he did. It made perfect sense, really. 

"And now I want to ask you something," she said. He tensed. "Okay?"

"Okay." 

With her free hand, she reached over and caressed his chest, softly, in a wide circular motion. "I want this night to be something you remember, Kyle. I want it to be something we both remember." Oh, he'd remember it, all right. He'd remember it. "But more than that . . . I want it to help you, too. You're a sweetheart. And you're cute, Kyle! You really are. You told me the other night that you haven't had a lot of experience with women. That's because you're so shy around them, isn't it?"

The chest massage she was giving him felt so good, making it hard to concentrate on her question. 

He nodded. "I guess so. But I always thought it was because I'm not desirable. I mean, I'm skinny . . ."

"You're not that skinny, Kyle . . ."

" . . . I'm a nerd . . ."

"No, you're not. And whatever nerdiness you do have, embrace! I'm a nerd myself! Come to terms with your inner nerd." She smiled, and so did he. "Besides, you'd be surprised how many women find intelligence to be sexy. We like a guy who can talk about something more than just the box scores in the sports page or his favorite Nascar drivers." Now her hand lowered, from his chest to his stomach.

He smiled, and she went on, "You need to learn to be more confident in yourself, Kyle. You have a lot to offer." She punctuated this by lowering her hand down to his penis, which was starting to spring back to life. 

He threw his head back, let it rest against the headboard. God, her touch felt good. She was now cupping his balls. His dick was fully erect again.

"It's partly because I'm still new around here," he said. She released his balls, stroked his shaft again. "I've never had an easy time making friends."

"Mmmm, you didn't have such a hard time with me," she purred, and leaned in for a kiss. Meanwhile, her fingers continued their silken assault on his dick. "Do you miss it back home?" she asked a moment later.

He nodded. "Yeah. But I think it was good for me to come here. I needed to get out on my own. It's damn cold, though. You ever get used to the winters?"

She shrugged, kissed him again, kept stroking him. "There are ways to keep warm." Good God, she was unbelievable. He couldn't believe the way she flirted with him, wanted him. He still wondered, fleetingly, if he'd wake up in a minute, alone in his bed, his sheets stained with cum. He was tempted to pinch himself, but thought the better of it. 

But then she looked at him, intently, seriously. "After tonight, I want you to start believing in yourself, Kyle. If there's one thing I can give you, one thing I want to help you with, that's it. Any woman would be crazy not to want to be cared for by you. Remember that, okay?"

His natural inclination was to resist, to point out all of his failings, all of his undesirable traits. He was tempted to point out the time he dared to ask a computer programmer at work out for a date shortly after he got his technical writing job, and the way she pointed to an imaginary line at the entrance of her cubicle, warning him never to cross it. He was tempted to point out the volumes of Renaissance and Victorian authors, poets, essayists who lines the shelf across the room from where they lay. Maybe most women enjoyed intelligent conversation, but did that mean they wanted to talk about Shakespeare and Dickens and Milton and Donne and Bronte? But then he thought of Renee. Renee, gently massaging his penis, cuddling up next to him on his bed, her beautiful body leaning in to his, her golden hair spilling onto his shoulders, his chest. She enjoyed talking about Shakespeare. She would have liked to browse through his books. She found him attractive, interesting, maybe even sexy. If such a gorgeous, vibrant woman felt that way about him, there must be something to it. Maybe he wasn't such a loser, after all.

And so, all he said was, "Okay. I'll remember that."

And then her lips were on his, and then she was on top of him, straddling him, riding him to another orgasm. He lie back, and watched her close her eyes, lean back, supporting her weight by bracing herself onto his upper thighs. He watched her breasts bounce before his eyes as she rode him, and he reached out to touch them, to knead them, to feel their softness in his hands.

She moaned, and he moaned, and then she got up, turned around, and rode him, with her back to him. She leaned back, turned her head, and they kissed, as he reached in front of her, fondled and pleasured her breasts. And then he came. He couldn't help it, couldn't hold it. And his third orgasm was just as powerful as the two that had come before it. 

"Ohhhh," he said, giving her breasts a squeeze. "God. I'm sorry, Renee. I wanted to last longer. I . . . just couldn't."

"That's okay," she said, kissing him. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Now that was the understatement of the century! "Besides, there are other ways to bring a woman over the top."

She didn't explain herself, she just lay on her side, and directed him to do likewise, gesturing for him to turn around, with his head facing her vagina, his dick facing her mouth. He'd heard of 69ing before, of course, had observed it in the soft porn movies he sometimes watched on lonely nights, and had always wondered how it would feel. Just the thought of it caused his dick to stiffen again. He swelled with man-pride. Here he'd cum three times in just the last hour, and still he was ready for more. His dick hurt a little, it just wasn't used to this kind of a workout. But oh, the joys of exercise, the rewards of training!

He felt her lips on his dick-head. Even after all the attention he had received this night, it still felt new to him, like a revelation, a secret known by others, but not him. Until now. 

He saw how wet she was. Her vaginal lips glistened with moisture. He smelled her musky arousal—mmm. It smelled so good. She smelled so good. He leaned in, licked her, inserted his tongue into her vagina, and heard her moan around his dick. 

She tasted even better than she smelled. It was a strong flavor, and he couldn't get enough. He wanted to drink her dry, swallow all of her juices, but every time he licked a spot over, it was still wet. He felt her lips tighten around his dick, and she bucked at the hips as his tongue pressed against a rough, grooved spot inside of her. Was this the G-spot? He'd read about it, but had never felt it, never experienced it. Either way, he must be doing something she liked, because her thighs squeezed in on his head, and she moaned louder.

He kept at it, and then reached up, toward her clit. He rubbed her smooth mound, stroking her, petting her, and she moaned even louder, his tongue still doing a ballet inside of her. He, himself, though erect, though loving the sensation of her blow job, was not close to cumming. It would take a while for him to recover enough to shoot another load, he was sure. The main thing was, he was good and stiff, and erect. 




Renee Ch. 02



He pressed down on her clit, rubbing it, pinching it, gently, gently.

Mmmmfff," she shrieked, her sound muffled by his penis in her mouth. "Mmmmmfff. Ohhhhh." This encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing, and he concentrated. It was actually a challenge to work his tongue and fingers together, in some sort of harmony. It took coordination. On top of that, there was the incredible feeling of her lips sliding up and down the shaft of his cock, the invigorating symphony of her moans and grunts, the intoxicating scent of her arousal. So many distractions! 

But he was determined to bring her to orgasm. And from the sounds of her moaning, the pressure of her thighs crushing his head, the way she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down, more, more, the way she thrashed and squirmed on the bed—she was close. Very close.

And then she did cum. She screamed, releasing his penis from her mouth, as he continued to lick her G-spot, continued to caress her clitoris. Her whole body spasmed, and her juices streamed into his mouth, as her vaginal muscles twitched and constricted, before finally relaxing. 

"Ohhhhhhh," she sighed. "Ohhhh." She was panting, sweating, as if she had just finished running a marathon. "Oh my God, that was amazing," she said. "I don't think I ever came so hard in my life."

That bolstered him, puffed him up. He felt like a giant, a titan. He had never been prouder of himself.

She looked at him and smiled, still panting. She looked spent. She looked beautiful.

"Need to rest for a while?" he teased. "You know, at your age . . ."

She sat up, playfully slapped him on the arm. But she laughed, so it was all good. 

She leaned in, and they kissed, not passionately, not with hunger and lust. But softly, gently, her lips like a whisper on his.

He told her something he'd always wanted to do was shower with a woman. He never had. Would she care to join him?

"I'd be delighted," she said, smiling. "I'm all sweaty, anyway, so I need one!"

"Methinks we will get sweaty again, fair lady, betwixt now and the dawn." Good God, how lame, how corny could he be! But, miracle of miracles, she burst out laughing. . . . 

♣

The shower was everything he imagined it would be, and more. They soaped each other up, bathed each other, taking extra attention with certain areas of their anatomy. Afterwards, they'd made love three more times, in three different locations—on the couch; in his cheap, armless chair beside his cheap folding table; and on the floor of the living room, her on her hands and knees, him straddling her from behind, his balls slapping against her bare butt cheeks as he thrust in and out. He came two more times, and so did she.

Now, lying beside her in the dark, the silence of the slumbering city, the sleeping apartment complex surrounding them like a soundproof glove, he knew that it was over. Yes, she would spend the night. But there would be no more lovemaking, no more orgasms, no more dreams-turned-reality. This was the moment he'd been dreading. The joy and discovery of the evening had bled away, morphed into the dark depths of the night. He held her close, so close. He didn't want to let her go.

He was sure she had fallen asleep. She breathed softly, rhythmically, her head inches from his, her arm draped around him. He moved in closer, closer, until his nakedness was pressed firmly against hers. She moaned softly, in her sleep. 

His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see the outline of her face, the halo of her blonde hair. She was so beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. He felt the tears coming then, but he made sure not to make any noise. They fell silently, secretly, down his cheeks, landing on his pillow. 

He looked at her, close enough to kiss, he looked at her sleeping face, saw the slow rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed, and the tears continued to fall. His pillow was damp now, and he turned it over, but the tears wouldn't stop, and the reverse side grew damp as well.

"I love you, Renee," he whispered, and gently kissed the tip of her nose. "I always will."

Then he gently removed her arm from him, and turned over, away from her. He had to. He couldn't bear to watch her sleeping, right there, beside him, a minute longer. Because the fact was, she wasn't there anymore, not really. She was already gone. Already gone.

"I love you," he said again, to the darkness, the room, this quiet, gloomy room in this ancient apartment complex, this old paper mill full of strangers, in this city full of so many people he didn't know, and never would. . . . 

♣

She was standing by the living-room window, overlooking the river, fully dressed, coat on, the morning sun languorously filtering through, halfheartedly. It was a mid-November sun, a New England, coming-of-winter sun. It seemed indifferent, the sun, as if it wished it could book a ticket to another solar system, and leave this one behind for a while.

They had just got through eating breakfast—one last fling, as it were. He had fried up some eggs, made toast and bacon, and they ate in the nude. But they didn't say much. What was there to say?

"I guess this is good-bye," he said, coming up to her. He promised himself last night, after he had turned over, faced away from her, that, come morning, he wouldn't cry. He would smile, be brave. 

But she was crying. She was looking out the window, hugging herself. Then she took his hand in hers, but still wouldn't look at him.

She turned to him, hugged him, squeezed him so hard, it felt like she might crush his ribs. 

"I'll never forget you," she said, into his shoulder. "I will remember you always, Kyle." 

She let go then, and walked briskly toward the door. It was happening too fast. Now that she was leaving, everything seemed to be moving at warp speed. 

That's when he thought of it. Just a few minutes ago, when she dressed, she had left her necklace with the heart-shaped locket on his night stand. He recalled thinking how odd it was that she had retrieved her glasses but not her necklace, the necklace her husband had bought for her on their first anniversary, years ago, when their love was still fresh and new and vibrant. He hadn't said anything. He figured she'd go back for it before she left. But she hadn't.

"It's okay," she said, when he asked her about it. "I want you to keep it. Something to remember me by . . ." She finally looked in his eyes, and smiled. 

Something to remember her by. As if he needed any help. Though, already, a part of him wished that he might forget. . . . 

"But your husband . . . Won't he . . .?"

She shook her head. "I hardly ever wear it anymore. I'm not sure why I even put it on yesterday. I don't think he even knows about it anymore. Keep it. Please."

She leaned in for one last lingering kiss, and then opened the door. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he always would, but he didn't. That would only make things harder. And maybe she already knew.

He looked at her, wanting to grab her, pull her to him, tell her she couldn't leave. Not now, not ever. But he just stood there.

She smiled, or tried to, and told him to smile back. He did. And then she turned around, without hesitation, and walked away. He heard her shoes echoing as she retreated down the hall. He thought about stepping into the hallway, watching her walk away. But he didn't. He just closed the door, walked into his bedroom, picked up her necklace, and fingered the gold, heart-shaped locket. . . . 

♣

He sat on the park bench, hands stuffed in his coat pocket. It was chilly, windy, dreary—just another November day in the Northeast. The clouds, low, gray, thick with moisture, hung over the landscape like dirty laundry. Not exactly the most uplifting, cheerful day to meet someone new.

He had finally gone to Trista, told her he wanted to meet this Jennifer she spoke so highly of. Two weeks had passed since his night with Renee. He'd spent every waking hour thinking of her, longing for her, wanting her. He had hoped he might hear from her again. He went to the library, the Renaissance Lit section ("our section," he thought of it wistfully), but she never showed. He hoped he might hear a faint tapping on his apartment door one evening and see her there upon opening it, those thick, wire-frame glasses covering her eyes, a shy smile on her face. But she didn't come. She didn't knock on his door. 

He knew he needed to move on. What else could he do? He would keep her locket, and he would keep the memories. And maybe, hopefully, he would hold on to the brief surge of confidence she had given him, mold it and shape it into something enduring, something permanent. 

Meeting Jennifer would be the first test, the first step in that direction.

He didn't know what to expect. Trista wasn't exactly the world's most objective or understated person. She had gushed over this Jennifer. Twenty-three years old. Long brown hair, sexy, in great shape. Even a bit of a nerd, like him. Can't beat that! Still, he half-expected her to be freakshow material. Why did she need Trista to set her up on a date, anyway? Couldn't she get a date on her own?

So, when a tall, attractive brunette with a ready smile and a dimple on her chin approached the bench, right on time, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Hey, you must be Kyle, right?" she said.

He stood up, nodded.

She stuck out a red-mittened hand, smiled. "I'm Jennifer," she said. "It's great to meet you!"

He took a deep breath, then another, accepted her hand. And then he smiled back.. "Hi, Jennifer," he said. "It's really great meeting you, too. . . ."