3 comments/ 49155 views/ 15 favorites The Alphabet Story By: velvet hammer This is a true story that took place in San Francisco, in the early Eighties. I love San Francisco -- a great party town. They have all these great bars and restaurants in the North Beach district, which is the Italian part of town, and also the old beatnik part of town. Jack Kerouac & crew used to hang out there, about ten or fifteen years before the Haight-Ashbury scene happened. Of course by the time I got there, the happenings in the Haight Ashbury were long gone & forgotten, the Seventies had come and gone, and the gay scene was the big deal. In those days, it was not unusual to be having a conversation with a woman -- not necessarily in a bar but anywhere; in a coffee shop, a delicatessen, a department store, a bank even - and at some point in the conversation, she'd put her hand on my forearm and say in a quiet voice, "God, I hope you're not gay," and bingo there and then I'd know I was getting laid. There was that much a shortage of straight men in that town; women were literally starving for cock. It was a Friday night and I was down in North Beach at the Savoy Tivoli, and for some reason I was wearing a suit. I can't remember why, because I didn't ordinarily wear a suit for my work -- I was a working as a draftsman at a civil engineering office and it was business casual, even back in those days. Well for whatever reason I was wearing a suit and I was making quite an impression on this lady. She was older than me - I couldn't tell how much older in the dark bar, she was in her thirties at least - and she was with this guy who seemed older than me but younger than her; late twenties perhaps. He was wearing a suit and looked like what we'd call a 'metro sexual' these days; the kind of guys who worked in the financial district. Never mind him, more about the lady; brunette, her hair cut short in what used to be described as a 'pixie' cut, kind of long in the back but not quite a mullet. She had a narrow face, narrow nose; quite beautiful, she made me think of Sheena Easton who was big at the time. She was shorter than me, which is not extraordinary as I'm a big guy, taller than most people I meet. Anyway we were talking and I could tell she was really interested in me when she put her hand on my forearm and said the magic words; "God, I hope you're not gay." Bingo! I was a bit confused, however, because she was with Neiman Marcus. I thought maybe he's gay and they're just friends or something, although they seemed to be a couple. I replied, "I can assure you, ma'am, that I am not gay. I am one hundred percent straight, and I'm only interested in chicks, girls, women, dames, babes, broads, and members of the female sex." This earned me some laughter. Her escort was in the men's room at this point and she said, "Do you have a pen?" I handed her a ballpoint. "Roll up your sleeve." "Huh?" "Roll up your sleeve," she repeated, "I'm going to give you my phone number." I pulled up my suit coat sleeve, unbuttoned my cuff and offered her the inside of my left forearm. She wrote her name and her number. Her name was Sheila, which is Gaelic for woman, of course. "There," Sheila said, "call me tomorrow morning." All I had to do was shake my arm and my sleeves were back in place when her date showed back up. Long story short I called her up Saturday morning; we got together the next day and went out for Sunday brunch, and ended up at her place in the late afternoon. Sheila lived in an apartment in one of those old Victorian row houses that are all over the place in San Francisco. Needless to say we spent the evening banging the night away. This is what I learned of Sheila; she told me she was 45 (she could have been older), she was New York Irish, she'd lived in San Francisco for almost twenty years, she was studying to be a nutritionist, and she loved my cock. Sheila had a great body. Very white skin with a sort of soft-but-not-smooth feel to it, like the way red-haired freckled people's skin sometimes feels. Her boobs were nice and semi-firm, a bit more than handfuls. I've got big hands; I'd estimate them at about 34C. She had a bit of weight on her ass and thighs but not unpleasant, even though she was a bit self-conscious about it. "You have a beautiful body, Sheila." "Oh, I need to lose weight. My ass is too fat." "Not really," I said honestly. "It's nice to have something to hold on to." "Oh, you're the nicest guy, Sean." This was followed by a big smooch, a long, slow wet French tongue kiss. We were naked in bed as this took place. I moved down to nibble and kiss her nipples, which were as hard as a pair of acorns. Sheila held me in her arms, sort of like she was nursing a baby, as I paid attention to her pert pair. My lips traveled further south, licking and kissing my way down to her mound. Sheila's pussyhair was cropped close, narrowed down to an inverted, truncated triangle; she was shaved completely bald from the clit on down. I had never encountered a 'Brazilian' before and I was quite taken by the brazen sexuality of the way Sheila chose to groom herself down there. I nibbled and licked at her nether lips. Her clit poked out of her puffy pussy lips; as I gently tickled and licked her clit, her pussy opened up and her juices flowed. Now her clit became hard and erect like a tiny, prehensile penis. Sheila moaned as I sucked on her clit, and as I sucked I began fingerfucking her wet hole with two fingers. Sheila began thrashing about as I tortured her lovebutton. She had her fingers run through my hair, pressing my face against her pussymound as she rode my face. I sensed at least two powerful orgasms as her pussywalls clenched about my fingers, and her lovejuices flowed like water. Sheila finally pushed me away. "Enough," she gasped, panting. "It's too sensitive." I wiped my face by kissing her gently all along her inner thighs and her neatly trimmed pubic hair, before moving up to kiss her on the lips. I was up on my elbows over her, Sheila had her arms about my neck as we kissed long and slow, a true soul kiss. My hard rod prodded at her wet pussy. The feeling was fantastic; I just kept it there, poking in just the head, not even to the ridge, and then pulling back to poke against her clit and torture her some more. We broke our kiss. Sheila looked in my eyes and pleaded, "Please, Sean . . . please . . . fuck me . . .?" With that I rammed my rod home. Sheila gasped, and then she took straight off, riding my rocket ship to Planet O. The girl was totally orgasmic; entering immediately into the multi- phase. She interlocked her legs about mine; her pussy was spasming around my cock and squirting juices in all directions as I piledrived her into the mattress. Finally my moment was near; the pressure was building up in my cock and balls. I buried my fingers knuckle-deep into her asscheeks and roared like a lion as I unloaded what felt like a gallon of white-hot cum deep into her. After a rest and our respective runs to the bathroom, Sheila licked and kissed my cock back to hardness and we did it again -- this time Sheila rode on top, moving up and down on my pole, holding my hands as I squeezed her round tits and pinched her nipples. In the morning I had to move out early to get to work, but we managed to knock out a quick session nonetheless. I left her freshly fucked and totally thrashed. She couldn't even get up to see me out the door. It was after our first night of lovemaking that things got interesting. Monday night she cooked dinner for me at her place, and after the plates were put away, over coffee, Sheila revealed a little bit more about herself. "So, what's going on with the guy you were with Friday night?" "Oh, he's a neighbor; he lives across the hall." "He DOES?" "Sure." "Well, uh . . ." "He's a stockbroker," she continued, "and he's been trying to get into my pants for the past six months." "Uh-huh . . ." I wasn't sure where all of this was going. "And now I'm going to tell you something about myself, Sean, it's important for you to know." This REALLY got my curiosity going. "O-k-a-a-a-y . . ." "So finally he just came out and asked; 'what does it take for me to go to bed with you, Sheila?' and I said, 'The rent.'" "W-H-A-A-A-T-?-?-?" "That's how I'm financing my college education," Sheila shrugged. "I'm an escort. A thousand dollars a night." I was just taking a sip of my coffee just as she unloaded this bombshell on me and you can imagine my reaction. When I recovered, Sheila was smiling at me. "Does this change anything between you and me, Sean?" "Well, uh, no, not really. I think I can handle this." I was a pretty sophisticated guy, been around the block a few times, seen quite a bit of the world. Even still, this was something new. "Want to talk about it?" "Sure." Sheila seemed relieved I was handling her non-standard career path, and was pleased to share with me. "My clients are usually older guys; rich, successful businessmen who like a bit of domination." "You're a dominatrix?" "We're talking S&M light; no whips and chains, only a bit of humiliation. I walk on them with my high-heeled boots, make them lick my boots, sometimes they want me to golden shower them, that sort of thing." "Whoa." "This is San Francisco," Sheila shrugged. "This is what goes on." I'd already experienced some of the weirdness of the place; one girl I'd dated right after I'd arrived wanted to take me to a club where there was open nudity. She wanted to get me into the group scene with her, but I backed off. I wasn't quite ready to deal with hanging around with my dick swinging in the wind, the whole concept of doing it with spectators around. Sheila continued. "Anyway, these high-powered businessmen spend their days pushing people around, telling them what to do, pissing on their underlings. At the end of the day, what they want to do is unwind. That's where I come in. They want me to push them around, tell them what to do, piss on them . . ." I laughed at that, and shortly thereafter we ended up in bed. * * * Going back over these memories - over two decades ago -- there are moments which remain with such clarity, and then long swaths of time that I strain to recall what we were doing, what Sheila was wearing, what got us to the moment that I remember as if it were yesterday. The moments I recall as clear as day are all the times we were in bed; or wherever it was we were having sex at that particular time; in the bathroom, in the hallway, on some cushions on the living room floor. Going back over what I wrote earlier; try as I might I cannot recall what Sheila was wearing the first time we were together in her apartment. I remember it was a Sunday -- but that's only because of what I now know of her - ahem - 'extracurricular activities'. It was a Friday when we'd met downtown, she was wearing a dress and her, uh, 'date' was wearing a suit. Saturday night we couldn't get together -- I guess she was -- ahem -- working, so we didn't get together until the next day; ergo, a Sunday. I do remember we went out, had Sunday brunch and then tooled around some of the scenic parts of San Francisco; explored the shops and boutiques on Union Street and then went down by the docks where they an ancient clipper ship, the Balclutha, which is part of the maritime museum. We ended up at Sheila's place and I want to say she was wearing a dress but that can't be right -- she would have been wearing jeans and some kind of light jacket; in San Francisco the air is fresh and cool practically every day of the year. As I write this now it comes to me; I recall we ended up on the living room floor of her apartment. Sheila was underneath me with her jeans undone and pulled halfway down her thighs; I'm pretty aggressive at ripping the clothes off damsels. I remember her panties, in fact. This was the era immediately before The Thong took over the world; Sheila wore a white string-sided number with a little lace up front. I remember as I regarded that lace over her mons de Venus and contemplated what lay beneath that thin layer of fabric, Sheila commented about the open curtains and the view we offered to the people across the way in the buildings opposite. We repaired to her bedroom. By the time we made it to the bed I'd stripped her down to her bra and panties. Sheila sat on the bed and undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled them down. My cock was straining for release from my shorts of course and when she pulled them down the old John Thomas bobbed up and nearly knocked her in the eye. Sheila continued pulling my pants down while at the same time she parted her lips, took my boner into her mouth and began a nice, slow, wet blowjob on me. This was before Sheila had revealed the nature of her work to me, but it was already obvious I was in the hands of a totally sexual creature. Remember; I was twenty-two at the time, and as beautiful a woman as Sheila was, she was also old enough to be my mother. Looking down, I regarded a woman very much like the teachers at my school or the women executives I'd encountered in the business world . . . a fully mature woman . . . with my cock in her mouth. Sheila had a certain look about her as she sucked my cock -- again it may have been her maturity and the gap in our ages. She had this look of studied concentration; if she'd been wearing half-reading glasses she'd have looked like a librarian refilling the card catalogue or something. Her eyes were on her work, which was running her red lips up and down the length of my rigid pole, occasionally glancing up at me as she filled her mouth with my meat. The event ended up on the mattress of course, and I described this in the first part. More about Sheila's look; she was beautiful, brunette, slim but not rail-thin, sophisticated and sexy. Any man would be proud to have her as a wife and I often wondered why she was not married. Marriage of course was out of the question for Sheila & me - given the age difference -- but I certainly would have been game if she was younger or I was older. Who knows? Maybe she was a bitch when she was young, and now she was at the other end of the age spectrum in a town loaded full of hot-to-trot women and desperately short of males willing to service them. Whatever the reason for her circumstances, she was available, willing & able to service ME - in many wanton, wild and wondrous ways. Like I said, memory has faded around many of the details, but none of the details of us together as lovers elude me. I recall one wonderful morning; for some reason it seems it was a weekday, not a Saturday or a Sunday, but I obviously had the day off. We were in her sun-drenched bedroom, Sheila was on her hands and knees - stark naked -- with me slinging it into her from behind. I was holding onto her hips, fingers sunk knuckle-deep into the cheeks of her ass as I rammed it home and I'll never forget the look on Sheila's face as she turned back to regard me. Raised eyebrows, eyelids almost shut, lips parted as if caught in the middle of uttering an exclamation; she looked like a starlet in a pornographic movie, and yet she wasn't acting. This was all her; this was the look of hers that I described; sophisticated, sultry, sexy. I even liked the look of her short, dark hair down the back of her neck, not even to her shoulder blades, like tail feathers; very exotic. Sheila was a total sexual being. I couldn't imagine anyone more perfectly suited to the profession she had chosen. We were doing it doggy-style of course, and besides the view of the bay and Alcatraz out her bedroom window, I was treated to the view of her pretty puckered little browneye staring back at me as I rammed my log home up her love tunnel. Wondering if it would lead anywhere, or maybe pushing the outer limits, I placed the palm of my hand flat on the small of her back and pressed the flat of my thumb on her anus -- she was clean back there, otherwise I wouldn't have done anything. I guess I just wanted to see how far into the outskirts of Weirdsville my mature lady friend was willing to take it. Sheila pushed back, surprisingly enough. At first I thought it was the rhythm of our lovemaking, but no; the woman was distinctively pushing her anus back against my thumb. Well now it was obvious where this thing would go, so I removed my thumb, brought it to my lips and deposited a huge gob of slobber and replaced my thumb right back on top of her asshole. Sheila pushed again and then a moan, "O-H-H-H-!-!-!" as my thumb slid inside her 'backdoor'. So now I was fucking her, and thumb-fucking her asshole at the same time; Sheila had essentially achieved dual-penetration on herself, and judging from her sighs and moans SHE WAS LOVING IT. Well this was pretty exciting; even more so when Sheila went face down into the pillows as she reached down to diddle her clit. It was all I could do to hang on to her hip with my free hand as I slung cock into her wet hole. Her pussywalls were clenching about my shaft and she was squirting lovejuices, splattering my thighs, and the fingers of the hand she was diddling herself with were reaching back to tickle my balls as they slapped against her clit. Meanwhile Sheila had worked herself back onto my thumb; I was in past the knuckle. Now the cum was boiling up in my balls, my cock was getting big and huge inside her; it was any second now. I could barely hold on -- I had hooked my wrist about her hip, holding onto her thigh and pressing into her as deep and close as I could. I cried out, "Ah! Ah! A-H-H-H-!-!-!" as my cock erupted, flooding her insides with spurt after spurt after spurt of hot jizz, and fireworks exploded inside my skull. Sheila was still cumming as I leaned forward, panting from my exertions and dripping sweat on her back. Sheila's pussy was pulsing, gripping my still-rigid cock as tight as if she had it in her fist, and her juices continued to pour. Head down in the pillows, her face was to the side, eyes closed tight, mouth agape, crying, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" in little cat-like mews. I had given it to her good and she was cumming like never before. When I finally pulled my thumb out of her ass there was an audible and Sheila cried out again, "OH!" We lay in the afterglow, of course, and when we'd recovered some of our strength, Sheila led me by the hand to her bathroom. I've always been one for good clean fun in the shower; little did I know what pleasures awaited this time. Sheila's bathroom was unique; it was large, high-ceilinged, which is a feature of the Victorian architecture in San Francisco. There was a claw-footed tub, and off to the side a rather large, tiled area with a wide showerhead, the kind that makes the stream of water seem like rain coming down. There were some bars for holding on; the place must have been modified for a handicapped resident. It was more like a small tiled room with a drain in the floor. Hanging ominously from a hook on the wall was a rubber water bag and hose -- basically, a douche bag. I'd been in her bathroom and seen it before, but this was the first time I had regarded this artifact in Sheila's presence. I looked at the thing, knowing its purpose of course, and then looked at Sheila, who gave me a knowing smile. She opened the valve and ran the water until it was hot enough for us to get in, and we frolicked beneath the shower. For some reason I find a woman attractive with her hair plastered down by the water, or at least Sheila was one of those women who looks good with her hair wet and flat against her scalp. I was looking down, enjoying the view of her naked body as she soaped my cock and balls. Being young I was quite hard again, of course, and Sheila couldn't resist going to a squat before me, taking my length in her mouth again. The Alphabet Story She still had the bar of soap in her hand and as she sucked me she ran the soap up and down the crack of my ass. Her soapy fingers found my backdoor and gently probed . . . A man's anus is curiously sensitive; as Sheila's fingers dallied 'back there' my cock grew even more rigid and I swear it must have grown a solid inch. "You like that?" she asked. "Yeh . . . " I said quietly, because I could barely talk; it felt that good. Sheila probed deep, crammed her fingers deep into my asshole. The sensation was F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C!!! I sucked in my breath and my cock felt like it would explode. In her mouth, of course. I had to grasp those rails on the two walls and hold on for dear life because my knees were suddenly going weak. By now Sheila was deep-throating my entire pole, and finger-fucking my ass pretty deep and hard as well. She had my entire length down her throat, her mouth was open wide and her face was pressed against my lower belly; her nose buried in my pubic hairs. Sheila finally pulled off for air and to give herself some jaw relief and at that same moment I came. Jizz spurted out the end of my cock in long, thick ropes, splattering on the wall; shiny lines of cum landed across Sheila's parted lips, her outstretched tongue, her cheeks, chin, and dripping down onto her heaving chest. "Oh, you young men!" Sheila exclaimed. "You're so full of cum!" Just as she said that, another shot spurted out the end of my cock -- I wasn't done yet. "Oh!" Sheila gasped as my jizz landed on her cheek, then, "OH! OH MY GOD!" as two more spurts landed on her clavicle and her right breast. "WOW, that's a LOT of spunk! You really blew a load!" Sheila was panting with exertion, or maybe it was the thrill of the moment; there was cum all over the place. "Well, we better get you cleaned up!" she said, and with that she took my swollen cock into her mouth and proceeded to suck me dry. I looked down at my lover, squatting before me with my cock in her hand. Her raven hair was wet against her skull, she was literally cum-splattered, and she was nuzzling up against my still-throbbing cock, still thick and hard. Then I felt a sort of a vacuum and feeling of pressure release as she withdrew her fingers from my asshole. Sheila stood up and I took her into my arms and shared a big, wet tongue-kiss with her; long, slow and lovingly. I could taste my own cum in on her lips, on her tongue. Let me take this opportunity to say that I am not gay, not in the least, but I'm also not uptight. Human sexuality is a broad spectrum with as many colors as the rainbow. Whatever's your thing, I say, go with it. I also say keep your kink in the closet where it belongs. My thing includes getting fingerfucked up the ass while I'm getting blown by a beautiful woman, apparently. All I can say is it must have something to do with the prostate gland -- it feels GREAT and it makes me cum in buckets. Tasting my own cum on my lover's lips is also on the menu, apparently. * * * Sheila's fingerfucking me up the ass and massaging my prostate while sucking me off had produced the single largest ejaculation I have ever had in my entire life. We're talking both volume of jizz and number of shots. Afterward, Sheila took the bar of soap and worked up a lather, cleaning her fingers after penetrating my rear. "Now I'm going to do something special for you, Lover," she said, looking down toward my hindquarters. She then reached for the douche bag hanging on the wall and started filling it with warm water, mixing as much soapsuds as possible. It didn't take a Nobel Prize winner to see what Sheila had in mind for an encore . . . "I'm going to give you an enema," she smiled. "An enema is to clean you out back there." "Oh . . . " I wasn't sure how to take this, although it didn't seem like a bad idea after she'd probed my backdoor probably about six inches deep. "Enemas are really good for you," she said. "Turn around." So I did. Sheila hung up the douche bag by a little hook around the showerhead, and I felt her going between my butt cheeks. "Relax, lover." So I did. Next thing I felt was the little nozzle going up where the sun never shines, and then I felt a lot of water going all over the place; a lot of it into me. Sort of like a woman having a multiple orgasm in reverse, I guess. Then I was full. "There," she said, "See how long you can hold it in, then go and sit on the john." That was all I needed to hear. I made a beeline for the toilet, sat down and W-H-O-O-O-S-S-S-H-H-H-!-!-! out it all came. Well that felt fantastic, too. I looked down to see what had come out. I don't know what I was expecting; the Loch Ness Monster or what. What I saw was a lot of semi-clear water and a few solids; looked like debris that would not digest, just hung out in the creases and folds of my insides. And I felt CLEAN -- cleaner that I'd ever felt in my life! I'd just had a shower, had my balls drained, and now my bowels flushed. All I needed was to brush my teeth and I'd be good to go! "Now you're going to do me," Sheila said quietly, handing me the nozzle. She turned and placed both hands on the wall, like how a cop puts a suspect up against the wall. So here I am -- just had one of the most significant sexual sensory experiences of my young life, followed by a thorough cleansing from the inside out. Now I had a naked woman on my hands; facing away from me with her legs spread and ass out beckoning me to pay the closest attention possible to her tailpipe. I'd never been in a position like this before but I'd worked around horses and I know that's a crude analogy, but you know the deal about how you have to be gentle and let the horse know what you're doing; how you have to put your hand on its' rump and let it know you're walking around behind it. I placed a hand across the top of Sheila's asscheeks -- she had nice, firm asscheeks from hours of punishing work outs - reached down and spread them apart with my fingers, placed the nozzle on her asshole and gently pushed it in. "Ooh yeah," Sheila said quietly. "That feels good." Then it was her turn to make a dash for the toilet, and then we rinsed off and dried each other's bodies with fluffy towels, and as her hands moved over me I was hard again. "Oh, you young men!" Sheila said. "Always ready to go again!" Sheila turned away to blow dry her hair and I took advantage of the opportunity to place both hands on her hips and hump her from behind. Sheila spread her legs so she was straddling my pole like a witch riding a broom; her pussy felt nice and hot on the dorsal side of my dick. Sheila took me by the hand and led me through her apartment back to her bedroom. We were both nude, of course, and the sight of her tight, round asscheeks made my swinging meat all the harder. By the time we got to the bedroom I was rock hard. Sheila grasped my tool and sat down on the mattress. Looking up at me, quite demur, she quietly asked, "How would you like to fuck my mouth . . . then fuck my tits . . . then fuck my pussy. . . . . . and then . . . . . . how would you like to fuck me in the ass?" Shock value aside, it did not especially surprise me to hear her utter these words; after the episode in the shower, it was obvious that Sheila had an anal fixation. No argument from me, of course, and we were back to where we'd started; standing over Sheila with my fingers running through her thick, dark brown hair, her hands were on my hips and my cock was in her mouth. Having just cum twice in the past couple hours, it was going to take a bit of time to work up another head of steam. My pole was good and hard, like a wooden baton, but it wasn't going off anytime soon. Sheila looked up at me with her ruby red lips wrapped around my rod and a look on her face like, "Am I doing this right?" like, all sweet and innocent. Sheila finally pulled off my cock, panting as if she were catching her breath. She regarded my swollen pole in a study of concentration, then took me into her mouth once more, coating my cock in slobber. Then Sheila lifted her round pair of tits in both hands, offering them up to me as it were. She wrapped her boobs around my tool and started titty-fucking me. When the slobber started drying out, Sheila put her chin on her chest and let a long line of saliva drool down into the valley of her cleavage, right onto the head of my cock. My hard cock was nestled in her pillow-like tits; soft and warm and yet firm as she worked them up and down my pole. After awhile of this torture my knees were getting week. I was ready to get down to some regular fucking. Sheila sensed this. Releasing my cock from her boobage and planting a final kiss on my cockhead, she scooted back on the mattress. I moved toward her on my hands and knees and the first thing I did was lower my head to her crotch and plant a big, wet tongue kiss on her pussy. "Oh!" Sheila gasped. Then I moved over her and we kissed long, slow and lovingly as the blunt head of my cock prodded her wet pussylips. Sheila reached down and parted her labia and I slid home. I started out a nice slow and gentle rhythm but we soon had a good tempo going. Sheila gripped the sheets, knuckles white as I pounded it into her. Her round tits pressed against my chest; boobs so big plenty of titflesh hung out on either side of her. Eyes shut in sexual bliss, the foulest language imaginable emitted from her lips: "Fuck me . . . ooooh fuck me . . . fuck my pussy . . . fuck me . . . . . . fuck my pussy . . . harder . . . oh yeah . . . fuck me with your hard meat . . . give me your cock . . . . . . your hard cock . . ." Sheila looked down towards where she was skewered on my shaft. I was so near cumming I had to pull out. "Put it . . . . . . put it in here now," Sheila whispered. She rolled to her side, took hold of my hard dick and scooted her butt cheeks closer to me, allowing me to slide my hard cock up and down the crack of her ass. "OK," I whispered as I rolled her over onto her belly. "Please, Sean honey, use this . . ." she said, reaching to the bedside table and producing a small vial of lube; something to help it slide in there. I told her, "Spread your cheeks for me, baby," and she did. Sheila lay on her tummy holding her ass cheeks apart as she offered up her most private place. Her eyes were shut and she bit her lower lip. I admired Sheila's sweet little asshole for a moment before squirting lube on it and all over my dick. "Oh that feels good," she chuckled into the pillow. Sheila's rosebud was pink and puckered, but it had a certain looseness to it. I remember assfucking a girl in high school one time. Wow, what a difference! That girl screamed bloody murder when I poked her 'back door'. Sheila barely flinched when I inserted my finger slowly into her ass. I worked it in and out for a few seconds to get her nicely lubed. She was completely clean 'back there' of course. Sheila just buried her face in the pillow and took it as she waited for the big boner to arrive. I guided the head of my dick into her asshole a little at a time until it was all the way in past the helmet. The ring of Sheila's sphincter muscle gripped tight around my cock shaft as I began to make small pumping moves in and out of her ass. Her firm butt cheeks made the ride even better; she had a round, muscular ass with a lot of cushiony effect to it. I leaned forward and slid my hands around to diddle her clit and fingerfuck her while I continued to hump my way to a climax in her ass. Sheila's face was still buried down in the pillow. Except by now she was groaning unintelligible words through a mouthful of linen. She was crying out over and over as I pushed deeper up into her warm, smooth tailpipe. I was peaking now. As I plunged my big hard cock in and out of Sheila's hot, tight ass, I reached around to diddle her clit so she could share the pleasure. Then I felt hot cum spurt out my dick into the depths of her now spasmodic asshole. "Ngaa, ngaa," she wailed into the pillowcase. I rolled over on my side taking Sheila with me as I shot my last pulse of jizz. "OH . . . MY . . . GOD!" Sheila cried out as she lay there next to me, panting now to the point of exhaustion. I could tell she was about to pass out because of the way her sphincter was still spazzing out around my cock shaft. Finally she rolled away from me and my semi-hard dick popped out of her ass with a sort of farting plop sound. "Oh God, I love what that feels like," Sheila whispered. I rolled toward her, spooned up against her back, put an arm around her and we both just lay there saying nothing for the longest time. After awhile I spoke up. "You really enjoyed that," I said out of sheer wonder. "Oh yes," Sheila said, still facing away. "Sometimes I just love a hard cock up my ass. Not all the time, but sometimes. It's a different kind of pleasure." "Thanks," I said. "Thanks for everything." "The pleasure was mine," she smiled. * * * It's probably time to get around to why this story is called The Alphabet Story. As you can tell by now, Sheila and I spent a lot of time in bed making love. I say "making love" because a lot of people fuck like animals, but when I do it, it's Making Love -- I'm an artist. We'd go out for meals the great restaurants of San Francisco, go for outings to Golden Gate Park and elsewhere to get some fresh air and stretch the legs, then it'd be back to the bedchamber for another round of lovemaking. On weekdays I'd often spend the night at her place and go to work from there. Toward the end of the week and on weekends Sheila would go out on her -- ahem -- assignations and then she'd show up at my place. Sometimes she'd tell me about her evenings: "Three Japanese businessmen." "THREE?" "Yeah, they wanted a discount, so I told them I was willing to cut them some slack if it was all three at once." "Whoa. Three." "Yeah, they liked the idea; they looked at it as a bonding experience." "All three at the same time?" "Sure, it was no big deal -- they had little dicks." Another time she told me how she'd introduced her girlfriend Lisa to hooking: "She thought it was a scream. She thought it was the greatest fun in the world. We sandwiched this guy and she loved every minute of it." "Oh yeah? Three way, huh?" "Yes! Lisa kept asking herself why she'd waited so long to get into it. It beats waiting tables for a living." I told Sheila that I wouldn't mind a three way with her and Lisa, but Sheila wasn't too keen on the idea. I suspected that it was because she feared losing me to Lisa, but if that was the case she needn't have worried. Lisa was my age and if I ever left Sheila for Lisa, I could see Lisa turning into a high-maintenance girlfriend tout de suite. Sheila was something special, a rare commodity -- Lisa was just another twenty-something girl. Besides, she wasn't that hot anyway. Sheila had nothing to worry about any kind of competition coming from Lisa; when it came to the looks department, Sheila had Lisa beat hands down six ways to Sunday. What Sheila especially liked was after an evening of pushing around businessmen and pissing on them, to come to me and have me get all physical and macho on her in bed. That Diana Ross song I Want Muscles was big at the time, Sheila'd sing that tune while we were naked in bed together; me on top, her running her hands all over my chest & biceps. Her other favorite song was Olivia Newton John's Let's Get Physical; she'd be singing that as she took me by the hand and led me to bed. I was "young, dumb and full of cum" -- and I'm a pretty big guy to begin with; six foot two and in those days not an inch of fat on me. Sheila liked the way I fucked her like a jackhammer when it really got going but apparently there was some room for improvement, and that's where the Alphabet thing comes in. It was another weekend morning in bed. Sheila was on her back with her legs wide open and I was going down on her. At this stage of the game I'd had more than one lover, I knew about the clitoris but Sheila had some advice for me in that department. "Do nose-tongue-chin." "Huh?" "Nose-tongue-chin," she repeated. "Like this," and she indicated a maneuver for me to rub her wet slit and her clit with my nose, tongue and chin like in fast sequence; buda-bump-bump, like a truck going over three speed bumps. I did so and judging by her moans and sighs Sheila was loving it. Her pussy was real wet and my face was covered with her juices. Then she said, "Do the alphabet." "Huh?" "The alphabet. On my clit. Do the alphabet on my clit, with the tip of your tongue." So I proceeded to figuratively write out the alphabet on Sheila's clitoris, and this evoked a series of fantastic sighs and moans as I went through the vowels and consonants. C was popular, as were K, M, N, O, Q, W and Z. I got to the end of the alphabet and I sensed that Sheila had already experienced at least two orgasms. I was having fun so I decided to do it in reverse; Z...Y...X...W...V...U...T...S...R...Q...P...O... I didn't even make it to N and Sheila was clutching at my head, "ENOUGH! ENOUGH! FUCK ME NOW! PLEASE FUCK ME NOW!!!" She urged me up from her lap. I kissed her abbreviated bush, wiping some of her wetness from my face, then moved up to kiss her fully on the mouth. I wanted her to taste her own juices. Sheila accepted my tongue deep into her mouth, sucked on it as if it were some kind of candy. The head of my hard dick lay right on her wet pussylips. "Please . . . fuck me . . . " she gasped. All it took was a steady push and I was in her love hole right up to the hilt. The walls of her pussy gripped my dick like a hot, wet vise, but the pleasure I felt was nothing compared to the ecstasy Sheila was going through, judging from the way she was moaning like a cat in heat as she writhed around on my pole. I had to do something soon because if I stayed in that position for longer than a minute I'd be cumming like a fire hose. I rolled onto my back, stretched my arms over my head and let Sheila roll her body on top of mine as she sucked on my tongue. Sheila moved up, straddled me and reached down to guide my cock into her wet twat. She impaled herself on my cock, closed her eyes and bit her lip, but I could tell she wasn't in pain. I made nice slow movements in and out until she finally opened hers eyes to look at me. Then she wiggled a little so I put my hands on her hips, lifted her a bit so I could thrust up and into her, picking up the pace a bit. Sheila was cumming again. She held her tits, pinched her nipples. The most beautiful look came over her face; she was wild in her abandon. After her waves of ecstasy subsided I rolled her over; now it was my turn. I gripped her asscheeks tight as I plowed into her, my face in the pillows. I felt the pressure building up in the head of my cock and then I was cumming, spurting jets of hot manseed deep inside her. * * * Looking back, I can honestly say that Sheila was by far the horniest little sex fiend I have ever had the pleasure of knowing -- in the Biblical sense -- and that's not a short list. Being naked in bed with Sheila was like being inside a pornographic movie; she was that hot. A lot of women out there owe a lot of pleasure to my horny little sexpot, and they don't even know it. That is the story of the Alphabet.