****** It\'s Time ******
Provided By: BDSM_Library
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Synopsis: How long can you hold out hope for a loved one?
It's Time
by
Deputy Duffy
Part 1
I got home after another long day at work and retrieved the mail. I sifted
through it...junk, bill, junk, bill....
"What this?" I wondered, looking over an envelope with no return address.
"Hmmm?"
I took it upstairs to my kitchen and opened it. Carefully. It contained three
handwritten pages of pink paper. I read the first one, a brief cover letter, as
it turned out.
I wrote this letter the day I got home after Marcy's wedding, but it took me
months to get the courage to mail it. I'm not sure I should have, but, if
you're reading it, I guess I did.
That's all that page said. I started pacing the floor. I remembered that
wedding well, but the reception was a little blurry. I know one thing, I made a
total ass of myself. (Fucking tequila!)
I took a quick peek at the next page. (I had a sneaking suspicion.)
"Yep." I muttered, suspicion confirmed. Her handwriting was pretty distinctive,
right down to the little heart she drew over each "i." But mainly it was the
fact that SHE was the only one I ever let call me “Stevie."
I sat down. I had figured I'd hear from her again one of these days, but now I
was a little afraid to read the letter.
"What if she says she doesn't ever want to see you again?" I said to myself, as
my mind wondered back in time to that wedding.
Marcy was an old high school friend of mine. I'd been out of the loop, so I was
surprised to get the invitation. The only reason I went (it was about two hours
away with a lead foot) was to see if SHE would be there. I knew she'd been out
of the loop, too, but if I got invited....
I had made the trip to the wedding with time to spare, but was a little late
(conveniently) in arriving at the church, so I just sneaked into the back row.
I saw a few familiar faces, but not many.
I started thinking about the glory days. It had been 12 years since high
school. I always thought I was pretty cool back then. I played sports, was a
class officer, always got invited to the best parties, shit like that, but
now.... Here I am sitting in the back row of the church, no wife, no kids, no
date, a lame ass job, a way-too-old truck, and $7,000 of credit card debt just
to top it all off. I wasn't 100% sure about high school, but I knew I was
anything but cool now. I wondered how things had turned out this way for me.
I was lost in thought.
I suddenly realized that people were standing and clapping. I joined in and
followed the wedding party out into the parking lot. A pretty redhead caught my
eye.
It was HER.
And she was still the hottest thing on two legs.
I kept her in my sights, but tried to stay out of hers, because she was holding
hands with her husband.
"What a dick," I thought. "Why him?"
I continued to watch them (while everyone else focused on the bride and groom).
They seemed like a happy, good looking couple. I followed them until they
hopped into a shiny blue Escalade. (He even opened her door.) I huffed and
headed for the reception. Once there I went right to the bar....
And so it began.
I was working on my second beer when our eyes met.
"Oh-my-god!" Debbie ran over to me and wrapped her arms around me. I held her
tight. (She is the only woman to ever make me weak in the knees.)
"Ok, break it up, you two." Her husband pried us apart with a friendly smile.
"How's it going, Steven?"
"Alright. Good to see you, Mark." (It wasn't.) We shook hands. The three of us
made some friendly conversation before Mark suggested we find our seats. Debbie
gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and they moved into the hall. I went back to
the bar and grabbed another cold one -- and a shot -- before finding my seat at
the back of the hall.
It was a normal wedding reception (white people dancing badly), but I just
couldn't get Debbie out of my mind. I thought about our past.
*************************************
Debbie grew up next door to me. We were same age, so we rode the same school
bus. We became fast friends. People used to joke that we were Siamese Twins
because wherever I was, Debbie was, and vice versa.
Debbie often used to sleep over at my house. (My mom and I lived in the lower
floor, and my Aunt and her kids lived upstairs.) But it wasn't like at a kid's
sleepovers. She used to sneak into my bedroom through the back door and crawl
into bed with me, mostly on weekends. I don't remember exactly when it started.
I just always remember it happening. My mom knew, too. When I'd ask to eat
breakfast in my bedroom, she'd joke, "Are we having breakfast for one or two
today?"
Only when I got older did I understand that Debbie was fleeing from home more
than wanting to sleep with me. She didn't talk about it much, but I knew she
wasn't happy at home.
When we got into high school, our sleepovers slacked off, but they still
happened. I was trying to "take our relationship to the next level" (as they
say), but she always said that she wasn't ready for sex, and I never pressed
her, even when I woke up and found her in my bed. It was difficult, especially
when she blossomed. Sometimes I'd wake up with morning wood and find her
sleeping in these little short shorts and a small tank top. It was all I could
do not to.... It was all I could do.
But, otherwise, things generally seemed fine between us. I'd always thought we
were a couple until the night of the Bradford Halloween party, our Senior year.
Debbie said she was working late (she worked part time at some clothing store),
so I stayed home for most of the night giving out candy. Then I hit a couple of
hot spots before going on to the party.
Things were kind of quiet, and something just didn't seem right. People were
looking at me strangely. A friend of mine even tried to stop me from going
upstairs to the finished attic -- where all the couples went to make out. I got
this sick feeling. I brushed past him and raced upstairs and searched room
after room, until I opened one door, and there she was...there THEY were.
Debbie was in bed with a boy on top of her. They froze. She wore a look of
panic on her face, but she never said a word. I looked down at the trail of
discarded clothing, and then back up to his arched back. Even under the covers
it was obvious what they were doing.
His head slowly turned in my direction. Like a punch to the stomach, I saw that
it was Mark Thomas. (Mark was my nemesis. He was a year older and always seemed
one step ahead of me. And, to make matters worse, he was also my cousin, who
lived upstairs from me.) His face slowly grew a smile, and he resumed thrusting
his hips. He had won again and he knew it. Evil thoughts filled my head. I
stepped towards the bed. Suddenly, I was hit in the back of the head by
something and then all I remember was being kicked, over and over.
(Yeah, that was a Halloween party to remember. I lost my girl and, thanks to a
couple of Mark's friends, sustained three broken ribs to boot.)
Debbie tried to explain, saying she was really in love with him, while she and
I were just best friends. She said if I truly loved her, I'd understand....
Even though I was crushed, I tried to suck it up and be a man. I even went to
their wedding a couple of years later. While we didn't see each other much
after that, we still got together at Christmas. It was never easy. I'll admit
my smile was fake, but I always thought that one of these days she'd see who
truly loved her.
Then, about five years ago, Mark got a new job, and they moved away. That was
the last I saw of them until Marcy's wedding.
*************************************
I finally built up enough courage and sat down and read the letter.
Dear Stevie,
It was so surprising so see you at that weeding. I used to think about what I'd
say if we ever met again, and then we do and I just couldn't seem to find the
right words. You didn't seem to have the same problem, although some of them
were slurred, but you still had that look in your eyes. I know it well.
That's why I had to write this. It's time.
Believe me, I'm not that special. I have my flaws. I know I leaned on you
pretty hard back when we were younger. You were my savior. You showed me that
all men weren't perverted like my dad. I know you think he used to do "things"
to me but he didn't. But that's not saying he wasn't fucked up. I can't believe
I'm going to finally tell you this but here goes.
Most of the time my dad was pretty normal, but when he'd been drinking he'd get
weird. One of his things was to watch my step-mom strip naked. Sometimes he'd
bring his buddies over to watch too. He made me watch too. If I didn't, he'd
threaten to give me a bare bottom spanking. Even though I didn't like her that
much it was still hard to watch them humiliate her. Sometimes they'd make her
touch herself or put things inside of herself.
He also used to have sex with my step-mom anywhere in the house at any time. If
I was around, he'd call me in to watch, and that's why I'd sneak over to your
house. If I wasn't around....
I knew why he was making me watch, before he ever told me. He was training me.
He said that one day I'd join the fun, but he, you know, had that accident.
Things were good with me and my step-mom after that. Strangely, it was a real
blessing.
I guess you always knew something weird was happening over at my house, so I
guess my confession doesn't shock you that much.
It didn't shock me, but it wasn't what I thought. I also knew that she didn’t
tell me everything. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall, though.
Her step-mom wasn't much of a looker, but she was really built. Her dad,
however, always gave me the creeps, and I knew things were weird for her at
home. I was kind of happy when he died. Now, I'm thinking Debbie was, too. It
made me feel better about it.... Much better.
I flipped to the last page and read on.
And that brings me to you.
You were always there to comfort me. You were my rock. Not once did you try any
funny stuff after I said no. Sure, I knew you took some peeks under the covers,
but that was it.
I'm not sure what I would have done If you had "charged" me for my visits, but
I'm sure I would have done just about anything to get out of that house.
But that's why I loved you so, because you didn't.
But there is "love" and then there is "in love." I know you've told me more
then once that you loved me. (Fifty times at the wedding.) It always warms my
heart.
But, did you ever think you just might lust me?
I wonder: If you had a do-over what would happen? If you knew that last time I
snuck into your bed would in fact be the last time....
I know we can't go back in time, but I had an idea that might just square
things between us.
Once a year (the last weekend in October) my husband goes away fishing, and
that time is near. I would never cheat on him. I vowed. But, if something
happened, and I didn't have a choice, then I guess that wouldn't break my vow.
I'd never tell anyone if that happened. Mark thinks he's been the only one.
Confused? Well, last Halloween a good friend of mine told me she was awakened
by a large man wearing a Halloween Mask. He had this large knife, and, well,
you can guess the rest. But he didn't hurt her. In fact, it turns out he was an
old flame. She was pissed, but ultimately understood. I know it happens, but
still sometimes I forget to lock the back door.
"What the ...." I cried out. I read the ending of the letter ten more times to
make sure it said what I thought it did. Putting the letter down, I looked at
the wall calendar. I had four days to prepare.
------------------------------------------------
I snapped on the small lamp on the nightstand and slid onto the edge of the
bed. Even sleeping, she looked like a princess.
Moments later, her eyes fluttered open, and she let out a gasp. She tried to
shuffle away, but I grabbed her by her blue nightshirt and put the knife to her
throat.
"No screaming, or I'll use this."
"Oh, god, Stevie, that better be you," she squealed.
I pulled the knife away. I was a little confused. I just shook my head.
"How did you get in here? I mean, I locked the door."
"Quiet bitch!" I snarled, flashing the knife. "Or I'll slash you."
She let out a giggle, her eyes directed to my obviously plastic knife. (I
bought it at a joke store. I didn't trust myself with a real one.)
"Okay, maybe scratch you," I said with a chuckle, taking off the Gene Simmons
mask (same store), although I didn't know what was going on. I mumbled, "Wasn't
I supposed to be some crazy masked man?"
"Yeah, it was kind of scary when I first woke up, but then I remembered you
were a KISS fan." (She hated them.) "But that's why I locked the door. I mean,
I changed my mind. How did you get in anyways?"
(I wondered why the door was locked.) "French doors are pretty easy with a
credit card. But forget that. What do you mean you changed your mind?"
She looked down. "Yeah, I mean, I can't go through with it. I thought I could,
but now.... It just wouldn't be fair to Mark. Right before he left he finally
told me he's ready to start a family. I'm going to be a mom. I've waited so
long."
"Fuck that!" I snapped, starting to get hot. (I'd waited even longer!) "What
wasn't fair was making me sit there and watch him marry you; THAT wasn't fair."
She closed her eyes and shook her head. I knew she was tired of hearing it.
I shrugged. "Yeah, but what's done is done.... Is that it?"
She nodded, looking away. I started pacing the floor alongside the bed. "I
drove seven fucking hours, and now you say you've changed your mind, just like
that." I snapped my fingers. "No, not this time. I'm done being kicked aside."
"Please, Stevie, let's talk," she pleaded, pulling the covers up.
"No, this time you listen to me." She tried to interject, but I snapped my
fingers again. I ripped her covers away. She wasn't going to hide from me
anymore. She gasped and slid up to a sitting position.
"Listen, Debbie, all those years, we were inseparable, and then you chose him.
Okay, I'll live with that. I guess he treats you okay, and you two seem to be
doing well. (He owned his own company, and she had some fancy marketing and
research job. I was a glorified grease monkey.) But you still owe me one. You
must know that. That's why you wrote that letter.... Guilt."
She shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Yeah. You must remember promising me that I'd be the first. Well, we know that
didn't happen. You said in that letter that I could have a do-over. That's what
I want...that's all I want." I was having trouble keeping my composure, a tear
joined hers.
"But we can't. Not now."
"We can, and we will."
She smacked her lips. "What...? Have you been drinking?"
"No, not tonight. Tonight, I want to remember everything that I say and
everything that happens, unlike that stupid wedding."
"You were a dick. You even said you should have charged me to sleep in your
bed. I know you didn't mean money."
(My face flushed, embarrassed that I'd actually told her that.) "Yeah, maybe. I
guess I'm not the nice guy that gets walked on, anymore."
"Well, I liked that nice guy."
"Oh, yeah, that guy got lots of lovin'. Thanks to you, I got to first base the
same night I lost my cherry.... Fucking Prom Night. Now, I couldn't even tell
you her frigging name. It was SO special."
"I think it was Samantha."
"Gee, thanks. I'm sure I rocked her world. It just dawned on me that I've never
even kissed you on the lips."
"So, you want a kiss?" She blew me a kiss.
"And that I've never seen you naked."
She didn't say anything this time. I know I was being a whiny brat, but I just
wanted some satisfaction. I'd also waited a long time for this, and I figured
this would be my last chance.
It was time.
"So, are you prepared now?" I said, raising my voice, "to show me that bod?"
She answered by pulling her night shirt down over her knees and shaking her
head. "Please leave."
"Jesus! I always believed you when you said you weren't ready for sex, but now,
I know you're no virgin. Just let me fuck you, once. Like you promised me many
years ago."
"But, I'm married now."
"Yeah, you've pointed that out. So it will be our little secret. You know I can
keep a secret." (I've never said a word to Mark about our sleepovers -- even
after.)
"B-b-but," Debbie stammered and sniffled. "That was a long time ago, and
nothing happened."
"Yeah, I know that all too well. But to this day you've never really thanked me
for that. I mean, guys would have killed to be in my position. Do you know how
hot you were...and still are? Wow, the things I could have had you do. Like you
said in your letter, you would have done just about anything to get out of that
house. I should have been the one to show you the joys of sex."
"B-b-but, I wasn't ready."
"Bullshit! Maybe when we were younger, yeah, but what about high school? You
weren't that innocent."
She rubbed her chin like she was trying to think what I might know.
"Like, I know about that clothing store." I winked at her.
Her eyes flew open.
"Oh, yeah, I know what you used to do with that manager guy, under his desk."
"H-how? I mean, what...?" Debbie seemed flustered.
"Wendy told me. She seemed to take pleasure in the pain it caused me."
"That bitch."
"Sure, it wasn't until years after you married that she told me." I shook my
head with a chuckle. "To think, you blew the guy for a night off, or to leave
early.... Wow, Debbie."
Her face turned pink. She whispered, "It was nothing. What else did she tell
you?"
"Oh, concerned now? I guess Mark wasn't the only one...."
"I didn't sleep with him. It was just...." Debbie's voice sank, "Oral."
"You sucked his cock." I snapped, and, just to be lewd, I added, "And swallowed
his cum."
"Ewww," Debbie groaned. "It wasn't, like I said, it was nothing, and I didn't
swallow."
"Nothing, huh? Ok, then where was my blowjob?"
"What?"
"Yeah, if it was nothing back then...then why when I asked was it? Hmmm? I
couldn't even get you to give me a handjob after my 18th birthday party. Am I
that repulsive?"
Debbie closed her eyes. "No. You know you're not."
"Gee, thanks." I raised my voice. "Yeah, you know how many hardons I had to
wish away, or beat away. I always thought it was some sort of phobia or maybe
you weren't that type, but now I know differently. No, tonight I'm not leaving
here until you've sucked me and...."
"I'm not having sex with you, and that's it," Debbie shouted. "And I'm not
doing that with my mouth either." She paused. "You've changed."
I looked into her puppy dog eyes. I guess I had because usually they would melt
me, but not tonight. I had to think. I'd said too much and gone too far to
stop. After a couple minutes of thought, I pulled out her letter and read it
out loud. When I finished, I added, "This is your letter, inviting me, the
weekend your husband goes fishing?"
"Yeah, so?" Debbie sounded concerned.
(I thought, "This just might work.") "Well, what if I showed this to Mark and
told him what a great time we had living out your masked intruder fantasy. He
must know about it."
"What?" Debbie screamed out. "You wouldn't!"
"Yeah, it would be a little lie, but with this letter.... I'd tell him how I
came in with my shiny steel knife and scary mask and tied you up and fucked you
silly on his bed. Just like I do every time he goes away. I'd also tell him how
much you enjoyed it, and how you had me do it again and again and...."
"He wouldn't believe you. He wouldn't."
"You don't sound so sure, Debbie." I started reading the part of the letter
about the masked man again.
"Ok, ok, I get it," Debbie interrupted, before lunging for the letter, which I
held just out of reach. She whined, "God! How pathetic. I can't believe you're
blackmailing me."
(I wasn't proud of that fact either. It made me re-think.)
"Ok, Debbie, just give me that do-over, and I...well, I won't even ask for
intercourse. I promise." (It was a promise I didn't know if I could keep.)
Debbie perked up. "No intercourse."
"Nope, but don't sound so victorious. We're still going to play and do
everything else. I'll just keep my dick out of your pussy." I moved over and
brushed her bangs. "Right, just play out MY fantasy of a do-over, and things
will be square with us. I'll give you back your letter, and we can go on with
our lives."
Debbie asked several question as to my intent, but I remained stone-faced. She
thought it over for a couple of minutes, and then she nodded sheepishly.
Gentlemen, start your engines!
----------------------------------
It’s Time
by
Deputy Duffy
Part 2
Debbie emerged from the bathroom about a half-an-hour later. I smiled, liking
what I saw.
"I feel silly," she whined.
I checked her out. She didn't LOOK silly.
She was dressed in the outfit that I'd picked out for her. It reminded me of
the one she wore the last time she shared my bed, except for a pair of black
open-toed high heels to satisfy my fetish. (She tried to get away with some
silly flip-flops.) Her outfit consisted merely of a pair of shiny pink shorts
and a thin black top. She sulked when I handed her the outfit, but it was her
clothing, and I reminded her that it would soon be on the floor anyways.
Now standing before me, the simple outfit looked sexier than I had remembered.
She blushed under my scrutiny. I examined her nicely made-up face, another
instruction she had followed well. She seemed amused that I cared so much about
her hair and makeup, until I finished by telling her to use that lip-gloss that
she had on at the wedding. ("Lots of it.")
She smacked her lips (obviously reading my intent), while shifting her eyes to
my crotch. "Why? It will just rub off on your, you know, anyways."
"Maybe I want a souvenir." I winked. "Because I'm planning on leaving you with
a little something, something."
I was laughing to myself, like a bad comedian, when she cleared her throat,
breaking in on my thoughts. I moved her over to the far side of the bed and
pulled up this fancy cedar chest and sat down. Her head swiveled. She was boxed
in, and she knew it.
"Ok, lets get this over with," she pouted.
I sat there and continued to look her over. I had waited a long time for this,
and I was going to take my sweet-ass time.
Finally (as if to take us back in time), I snapped my fingers. "Well, Debbie, I
see you're back, and you want to spend the night in my bed."
She sighed. (I wasn't sure if she was going to play along.) "Yes, please, may
I?"
"I don't know. My bed's pretty small and...well, I might need a little
convincing."
Debbie rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"
(She wasn't doing a real good job of acting. I didn't care much, because I had
waited a long time to say this.) "Why don't you show me your tits, for
starters."
"Tits." Her hands flew up to her chest.
"Yeah, let me see those puppies."
"C'mon, just let me spend the night, you know I don't snore."
(She didn't.) "Let's see..., I've seen you in a bikini, and some skimpy tops,
but I'm looking forward to finally seeing the mystery that is your nipples."
"M-mystery?" Debbie mumbled.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure about the shape and size of your breasts, but the
exhilarating part is the nipples. Like what color are they? How long and hard
do they get? How sensitive? I still have no idea. It's still a mystery."
Debbie looked down at her chest. (It hit me that she probably hadn't thought
about her nipples as much as I had.)
"Lift that top up and reveal your mystery."
Debbie's head flew up. "Ah, maybe I could show you my ass instead."
I chuckled. "Oh, I'm planning on seeing that, too, and more.... Now, show me
your tits...FOR STARTERS."
"Wait, time out. Just what else are we talking about?"
"Nice try Debbie, get going."
She huffed and turned her head to the side and pulled up her top, just over her
breasts. I gasped. There they were, after all these years. Her nipples were
seductively pink. They were surrounded by brighter pink areolae. I licked my
lips. Set against her creamy white skin, they were very erotic, and looked very
suckable, but there would be time for that later.
"Now, lose the shorts."
"Hey!" She whined, yanking 'em down. "You don't have to be so fresh." She threw
them at me. I picked them up and made a show out of sniffing them. (I, at
least, had no problem acting 18 again.)
She twirled (to show me her ass) and then posed, hands on hips in a show of
bravado. My eyes took in every inch of her full frontal nudity before she tried
to hide behind her hands.
"Ok, you've seen what I got." She picked up a pillow and held it in front of
her. "Do-over: done."
I just shook my head with a sly smile. "Done? Not yet. Not hardly."
She huffed. "But you saw me...."
"Not all of you."
"What?" she gasped. "You Pervert!"
"That's right. I want to see your pussy."
"But you saw it."
I laughed. "I saw your cute little landing strip, but I want to see where the
plane parks."
"Smart-ass."
(Maybe, but I was having fun.) I ordered her over to the bed.
"Just think of me as a doctor." Her story of her first visit to a gynecologist
rang in my head. Especially about how embarrassed she was to have to put her
feet up in those metal things and spread her thighs wide so her doctor could
put his finger and various metal objects inside of her pussy. All for a man she
just met. It almost made me go to medical school.
"You know I hate doctors."
I nodded, knowingly. I watched a small tear roll down her cheek. It didn't move
me. I knew it wasn't a tear of pain, but of humiliation. And I wanted more. I
don't know why I wanted it this way, but there was just something inside me. I
mean, I knew all about her past, and yet I made her strip for me. (Like her
step-mom did all those years.) And I knew she had a thing about doctors....
I snapped my fingers, and she slouched over to my side, dropping the pillow. I
felt her hand brush the side of my hair. It was electric. Her womanly aroma
danced into my senses. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her left nipple
begging for attention. I turned my head slightly and took it between my lips.
Debbie purred as I sucked it in. She pulled me tighter and continued to stoke
my hair, her fingernails lightly scraping my scalp. "Yes, that feels good." she
moaned. "But the other one is jealous."
I slid around (not that I need any encouragement) and took her other nipple
into my mouth and sucked on it with vigor. She told me how good it felt. I felt
my cock flutter and start to grow. I reached up and cupped both of her breasts,
pulling them close so I could switch back and forth between nipples.
"See, you feel good, and you're making me feel good," she whispered, as I
continued to suck on her nipples. "You don't want to do bad things to me? (I
shook my head.) "You want to do GOOD things." (I nodded.) "I'll be nice to you
too, and do that thing you want, that every guy wants, with my mouth." (My ears
stood up.) "And you won't cum in my mouth or on my face, will you? (I shook my
head.) "Right! 'Cuz that's bad." (I nodded.) "But you can cum on my breasts, I
see how much you like them." (I did.) "Ok, so let's switch places and let
Debbie make you feel good and then we are even, Stevie, OK? (I nodded.)
I stood up, and Debbie started kissing her way down my body until she was
squatted down in front of me. She lightly brushed my crotch. "Looks like
someone is good to go," she snickered. That broke the spell. I reached down and
pulled her to her feet and tossed her back onto the bed. She looked surprised.
"Nice try, Debbie." I grinned, because she almost had me. "Seduction 101. It
might have worked if I was still 18, but, let's face it, we can't go back in
time." I sat back down and patted the corner of the bed. "I'm a grown man now,
and I know what I want and how I want it. So where were we? Oh, yes, you were
about to show me your pussy."
Debbie wasn't happy and did some bitching, while I just kept patting the corner
of the bed. Even though I didn't say a word, she finally slid down to me and
dropped her legs off the side of the bed.
I slid forward and spread her legs farther apart and pulled her towards me.
Satisfied, I leaned in for a look at her shaved pussy. Her pussy lips were
clearly visible and snuggled tightly together. (Jesus, just like I like’em.) I
took some deep breaths before I gently rubbed along the edges of her pussy,
circling my target. I sucked on my right index finger, making a show of it.
Debbie saw, but looked away.
I ran the moist finger up and down through her pussy lips. (I wanted pink.) Not
satisfied, I gathered some spit and released it on target. I used my spit to
spread her pussy lips, fan like, until they stayed parted. (I had pink!)
I picked her legs up and bent them back, her thighs moving farther and farther
apart, until she was fully displayed. She looked down at her new position and
gasped. I reached out and began stroking the surfaces of each of her perfect
pussy lips, while admiring their smooth, elastic texture. Once again I spread
her lips way out. (It figured.) She had positively the most exquisite pussy I
had ever seen. My eyes watered. (This was sleeping right next to me all those
years!)
I blinked my eyes and focused. It was time to find out how she felt inside. I
told her to "relax." She exaggerated a sigh. I slipped my right index finger,
ever so gently, into her hot little pussy. Slowly at first, I moved it in and
out, letting her get used to the feeling, and then began using two fingers.
Harder, deeper, faster.... Then my left thumb joined the fun and ran small
circles around her very noticeable clit. Bit by bit, I threw in every trick I
knew...and some I dreamed up on the spot. (There goes my medical license.)
When I got my first moan out of Debbie, I licked my lips, figuring it was time
to move on. Her pussy looked great, and it felt great, so there was only one
more thing to do. I threw her legs to the side and slid my hands under her ass
to cup her cheeks. Then, while lifting up, I leaned forward and ran my tongue
from the bottom to the top of her pussy.
"Oh no, no you don't!" Debbie cried out.
"I do," I said, before taking another lap.
Debbie put her hands over her face, but she didn't move from her position. (Why
would she?) I continued my munching. Once again, I used everything I knew and
probably did some stuff just by accident. For a while there, I was just a wild,
pussy-eating madman.
When she finally climaxed -- or at least cried out like she did -- she started
begging for mercy. I stopped licking, but I wasn't finished with her yet. I
fished out the tube of lubrication that had been warming in my pocket. I slid
her down to the end of the bed and pressed her legs back, way back. She looked
concerned, but still a little hazy.
Warning her to stay in position, I grabbed the lubricant and squeezed some out
onto my index finger, making sure she could see me do it. Then I ran my finger
around her asshole. She gasped. I slowly started working my way inside. The
grip was extremely tight. I added some more lubricant and went back to work.
She recovered a bit and screamed out, "NO!" That was OK, but when she kicked me
in the shoulder, I figured I'd crossed a line.
I wanted to apologize, but couldn't find the words, so I grabbed her again and
flipped her over, pulling her up to her hands and knees. I smacked her heart
shaped ass a few times and then went back to eating her pussy. When I added a
finger, she started to moan again. Then I slid my finger out of her pussy and
slithered it into her asshole. She cried out ("Why?"), but couldn’t kick me
this time. I didn't answer (I yearned to be the first at something), and after
I finger-fucked her asshole real good, I did slow down...and finally stopped,
taking one last look, before flipping her over and climbing up onto her body. I
held her face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers (our first kiss). She
tried to break away (for obvious reasons), but I had a good hold and a quicker
tongue. She finally relaxed and helped out, while I ground my hard crotch into
hers.
(I was hoping she would beg me to fuck her, or at least ask me.)
I spent some time kissing her neck, and nibbling on her ears, before bouncing
off the bed. I grabbed a pillow and dropped it on the floor in front of me.
(If I couldn’t fuck her.) It was time to get my dick sucked.
I summoned her by whistling and tapping my crotch. She burned, but slid off the
bed and took her place on the pillow. I patted her on the head, which drew
another dirty look. I used my thumb to trace her glossy lips, while trying to
keep my composure. She started sucking on my thumb. This, and the realization
that, after all these years, the lips that I had dreamed about would soon be
wrapped around my cock, made me pick up the pace (before I came in my pants).
"Now, suck my cock like you should have done, way back when." I slid my pants
down and kicked them free.
She whimpered, but pulled my underwear down my thighs. I think she closed her
eyes because she banged her face into my cock a few times before taking it into
her lips. (Yes!) She swirled her tongue around and didn't really move her head
much. I was thinking that maybe she was out of practice because I was assuming
she didn't do this with her husband.
A handful of hair was all that was needed to get her going and for her sexy
dark eyes to open. I fucked her face until she pulled back, begging me to let
her suck. That's what I wanted to hear. I folded my arms behind my back,
pompously, and waited. Debbie did some muttering, but when she returned to my
cock, she did better, though she still she wasn't into it. (It hit me that the
last blowjob I'd had was from a paid professional. It was great, but over too
fast.) One good thing about this one was I was going to be able to last. I
figured this would be my only one, so I was planning on making the most of it.
Anytime I felt I was getting close, I'd make her stop and lick the shaft of my
cock. (She flat out refused to lick my balls, but that’s never been my thing.)
When I knew I couldn't take much more, I tossed her onto the bed. I flipped her
over and dragged her to the bed's edge. Then I had her reach back and grab her
heels. She was now in position. She started to complain, but I shoved my cock
back into her mouth. (I'd heard enough.) Fucking her face, I closed my eyes and
resumed my day dreams. I changed her from one position to the next, each one
designed for my pleasure. I finally had her back on the floor kneeling in front
of me, held there by a handful of hair. I began stroking my cock. She was
trying to pull away.
"Don't come on my face!" she cried out, but it was too late. Her protest was
met with flying streams of cum. (Now, I'm not exactly a human sprinkler system
like Peter North, but I did make my mark.) I ran my cock along her lips, and
she took me in, ever so briefly, before she got up and scampered into the
bathroom, slamming the door shut. I immediately felt remorse. Normally, I
wouldn't have thought twice about it, but she was different in so many ways.
And, like I said earlier, I also knew about her past.
My mind drifted back to THAT damn day....
It had started off pretty normally. I had gone over to Debbie's house to see if
she wanted a ride to the Mall in my new truck. (Same one I have today.) But, as
I was about to knock, I heard loud cheering from inside. Curiosity compelled me
to peek into the living room. There were some thin drapes in my way, but I
still could make out four men standing in a circle. I suddenly realized that
there was a naked body lying on the coffee table beneath them.
"DEBBIE!" my mind screamed, but then I saw her off to one side, out of the
corner of my eye. I found a better spot. I could see that Debbie, wearing a
white bikini, was sitting in a chair...tied and gagged. I was about to rush in
like some sort of hero when I saw her father's face. (Oh, god!) He was one of
the men.
The men flipped the naked woman over and made her grab her heels. They moved
around the head of the woman, and they all appeared to be jerking their cocks.
(They still had their pants on.) I couldn't believe that a circle jerk was
happening right next door, in the middle of the day. I could have been the
mailman, or the paperboy or anyone.
When the group finally broke up, Debbie was released from the chair and un-
gagged. I kept a close eye on them now, but she wasn't touched. However, she
didn't get off easy. Under her father's belt swatting orders, she had the job
of cleaning up the woman's face...with her tongue. It almost made me sick.
After a short bathroom break, her father moved over and wrapped his belt around
Debbie’s neck while two of the men led the other woman over to the table again.
It hit me that it was her step-mom. (Even on her back her tits were huge.)
Her father started dragging Debbie along the floor like a puppy, while one man
started fucking her step-mom. Another man climbed on top of her and started
fucking her breasts, while another forced his way into her mouth. It was clear
that her step-mom was doing this under distress.
This went on for some time. I had to duck behind the bushes from time to time
when a car went bye. Finally, the men started crying out, and then one by one,
they backed off and Debbie was dragged in again. Her father’s belt, used to
guide her to her step-mom’s face. I couldn’t see clearly but it looked like
they were making out. Debbie pulled away and spit up on the floor. I groaned,
realizing what had just happened.
Debbie was pushed down to her step-mom’s breasts. Her tongue flicked out and
licked a nipple but her father wanted more. He forced her head down and made
her start sucking on her step-mom’s big brown nipple. After she sucked on both
of them he pulled her away and led her down to the end of the table. Debbie put
up a fight, but a slap to the face, ended it. (I wanted to jump right through
the window.) Two of the men came over and held her step-mom’s legs back.
Her father screamed at Debbie, with a point. “I want that cum cleaned out.”
He pushed Debbie’s face down. Normally I’d be turned on by watching a woman eat
out another woman, but this was my woman eating the cum of another man out of
her step-mom’s pussy. I also feared that Debbie might be next, but after awhile
of this, both women were ordered to the shower. The men wanted to watch that
too, but her father announce that the show was over. I scampered home.
After that day I came up with all kinds of plots to get Debbie out of there. I
just had to. Then, on Halloween night, her father was killed in a car accident
coming home from his favorite pub. The car was mangled so badly, and with his
blood alcohol level, they never did check the brake lines. No, he was just
another dead drunk driver....
**************************************
I shook with the memory. I stood up and paced the floor. Debbie took her time
returning from the bedroom. In fact, I wondered if she would at all, and
several times I thought maybe I should leave.
Suddenly, the door swung open. "God, I can't believe you did that to me."
Debbie marched into the room. "I'm not a whore. Give me that letter and get
out."
I handed her the papers, and she tore them up and tossed them away. "There,
that takes care of that. I hope you had your fun."
(I did, but I didn't feel like I thought I would. The night hadn't gone as
planned. I knew I must have brought back some painful memories for her.)
She sat down on the bed. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
I didn't want to, but I started spilling my guts, while pacing. "This is the
only thing I know, that if you'd have chosen me, I would have treated you like
a princess, because that's what you were to me. Why do you think I never tried
anything with you all those years? I knew something was screwed up at home, and
I knew there was more to you then a killer body. So I was there for you. You
know what that is? That's what they call love, Debbie...not just lust. No, I
loved you. No other woman would do. I loved you so much. I wanted the sound of
you breathing to put me to sleep, night after night, forever." (I wonder if she
would ever know the lengths I would go for a loved one.)
I moved over to the bed and lifted her chin up until our eyes met. "But maybe
you're right. Maybe lust is all I have left. I think things changed the night
you decided to break a promise and fuck my cousin."
She pulled away and dropped her head and murmured something.
(What was that?) I froze, finally managing to mumble, suavely, "Huh, Debbie?"
"I said, I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" (It's had been the one thing missing. She'd never said it, not once,
in all these years.)
"Yeah, I-I-I was young, and things were messed up, but something about the way
you loved me...it was scary. It was like if I didn't get away soon, I knew I
never would. No one's ever looked at me like you did...do. I didn't understand
it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Debbie burst into tears. It took me only seconds to
do likewise. I sat down next to her and slowly took her into my arms.
We sat up and talked and talked, clearing the air. It was painfully clear how
much she loved her husband and how happy they were. After two hours, I was
pretty sure she'd made the right decision -- for her, anyways. I finally
figured it was time to leave. I leaned in and kissed her...for one last time.
"Take these," Debbie said, picking up my mask and knife. "Go out and come back
in, wearing this, and do whatever...as many times as it takes. Just get me out
of your system. I can't be your dream girl anymore. There is someone special
out there waiting for you. Life doesn't end at 18."
I was shocked. She slipped off her robe (giving me one more look) and slid into
bed. I grabbed the stuff and walked out of the room. Taking a last look, I
closed the door. I stood there for a minute, thinking. She was right. I had to
get her out of my system, but I knew if I opened that door and went back in
that I'd never do that. I dropped the mask and knife (they were her fantasy,
anyway) and walked to the back door.
I sat for a time in my car, taking one last look at her house. It was a long
look. After awhile, the lights came on in room after room. Debbie, I figured,
looking for me. I shook my head, already wondering if I'd made another bad
choice.
I took a deep breath. I had to stop using her as a crutch. I pulled out the
well-worn photos that she and I had taken in that amusement park booth so many
years ago. I gave them one more kiss. "Bye, Debbie, have a nice life. Be a good
mom."
I tore up the photos and tossed them out the window as I drove off in search of
someone new, someone who would love me back.
It was time.
The End
Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I’ll appreciate any feedback you
think I deserve.
Edited by C. Lakewood
Review_This_Story || Email Author: Deputy_Duffy
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