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truckingmf: Seeking young hot women all across USA. I travel all over constantly and I want to meet up w girls from all over that either just love sex needing to make money wanna fulfill a fantasy or whatever the case is message me and let’s set up something. Maybe u always wanted to have sex in big rig well u can w me. Maybe u like to role play and wanna pretend to be the hooker at truckstop and have me buy you. Maybe you college girl just needs make extra to get by. Also I have a couple vids I’d like made and if you bored and wanna do what I’m looking for I’d pay ya for em. I looking to fulfill every single fantasy I can imagine and also help do yours too. Maybe your guy that likes to watch his woman fucked by another man ok I do that to. Maybe u always wanted to squirt well I’ve not met girl yet I couldn’t make her squirt. Best way reach me is 2544583911 or truckingmf@gmail.com
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State College Milfs PA USA
My Baby Sister's BFF
My Baby Sister's BFF · First Time · Introduction:
She said “If I was your girlfriend, I would suck your cock whenever you wanted” right before my cock was in her pretty little mouth, with her glossy lips stretched around it.
_____________________
On my last summer break before joining the real world, between my Junior and Senior year in college, I decided to go home. I would be graduating next year and I felt I had not spent much time at home since I left a few years prior. I wasn't exactly on the 4 years and out plan. I would always visit for the holidays, but every summer I would find a job and stay in the same town I was attending college. However, this summer I wanted to spend time with my family, especially my little sister. There's quite a bit of an age gap between us. I was now 24 and a few weeks prior to my arrival, she officially became a teenager with a year left before starting high school.
I arrived home on a Friday night and hung out at home most of Saturday. On Sunday Jenny and I had already made plans to go hang out at the local amusement center for some miniature golf, go-carts and just get a chance to hang out and get reacquainted. She had invited her best friend from forever, Abby. They were inseparable from the first time they met each other. Over time, we had learned that Abby never knew her father and her mother had a revolving door of boyfriends. I suppose our home gave her some sort of stability.
When I first got home I had noticed that Jenny was certainly not a little girl any longer. I couldn't help but notice that she was filling out quite nicely. She was now 5' 3” and her breast were between an A and B cup with hips that were starting to flare out nicely with a thin waist. She had always had nice full lips that looked even nicer now that she was allowed to use a minimum amount of make-up. I was surprised that my dick actually twitched when I saw her glossy full lips. They looked so fucking sexy.
Sunday morning we jumped into my Ranger truck and swung by to pick up Abby. My sister was wearing cute shorts and a tight tank top that nicely showed off her growing tits and part of her tight smooth tummy with her belly button on display. Whenever I meet the person that invented crop tops, I will kiss their ass. I love the way girls look in them. They get an extra 10 points in the sexiness factor, so long as her tummy is taut. Crop tops, like leggings, are a privilege and not a right.
I had to constantly remind myself that she was my baby-sister when I caught myself ogling her. When Abby came running up to my truck, I was shocked. She too was wearing shorts, only they were tighter and shorter than my sister's. Her tight little ass looked great! She had filled out more than Jenny. Her tits were a nice full B cup that were covered also by a tank top with no bra that covered only half her tight tummy. Her hard little nipples were on full display. Even as a little girl I always thought she was a cutie, but now she was looking even nicer with full dick-sucking lips.
My sister scooted over and Abby jumped in. She said hello as she entered and we were on our way. She was very talkative asking me how was college and was I enjoying myself. She asked if I had a girlfriend and when I told her not any longer she flirtatiously told me she could be my girlfriend if I wanted. My sister immediately blurted out “You are such a slut. You don't have to flirt with every guy you meet.” They both busted out laughing and we soon arrived at the amusement center. Strange how she and I barely spoke when she was younger, but now she couldn't stop talking.
I actually had fun hanging out with two teenage girls. That they were hot looking was a bonus. My dick seemed to be enjoying the eye candy along with most of the guys at the amusement center with their tits and legs on display. It was obvious they were good for each other. My sister was the calm sane one and Abby was the wild crazy one that needed to be brought back down to Earth ever so often. Throughout the day, Abby continued her flirtatious comments, telling me how good looking I was and that if I asked her out she would agree to go out with me in a heart-beat. I played along, telling her how cute she was and that I was surprised she did not have a boyfriend with such a cute little ass. This would prove to me mistake number 1.
We finally called it a day and jumped back into the truck, with her jumping in before Jenny and sitting next to me. I was a bit excited and hoping she wouldn't notice that I actually had a partial erection. I knew nothing would happen between us, but I suppose all her attention had gotten to me and my ego. Plus, her hard little nipples did not help. I looked over to Jenny and she just rolled her eyes. She was used to Abby's daring behavior by this point.
When we arrived at Abby's, Jenny got off to let her out. Abby turned and kissed me on the cheek before leaving, saying thank you for a great time as she winked at me. As we drove home my sister warned me, telling me “You know, she really likes you. She told me she thought you were cute and she wouldn't mind being your girlfriend when we went to the restroom.” I told her that I assumed she flirted with all the guys she met and I was simply her victim for today. She was cute but she was also way too young for me. Either way, Jenny told me to be careful.
I had gotten home at the end of May and Jenny and Abby still had a couple of weeks to go before their summer started. I sat around the following day and the very next day I was out looking for a job. It was boring sitting around with no one to talk to. Jenny was at school and mom and dad were at work all day. By the end of Tuesday I had rejoined the workforce securing a job at a grocery store. An old high school buddy worked there and he vouched for me with the store manager. I was hired on the spot and asked to report the next morning at 7am. It was part-time, but a great way to get some extra cash and kill time during the week.
Come Saturday, Jenny had asked if I could drive them to the mall. She and Abby would be meeting up with some friends. I told her it was not a problem as my shift did not start until 5 pm. We swung by Abby's and headed to the mall. It worked out fine for me as I had to pick up some jeans and a new pair of sneakers. They went their way and I went my way, with plans to meet at the food court around 3 pm. I went off and like a typical guy, I was done with my shopping within an hour.
I arrived at the food court half an hour early and waited for the girls so we could eat before heading home. When they arrived, Abby was excited to see me and came up to hug and kiss me on the cheek, asking me “Did you miss me?” as she sat on my lap. I looked over and Jenny simply rolled her eyes. We went over and grabbed lunch before sitting down, with Abby sitting right next to me. I was certainly enjoying the special attention she was giving me, regardless of her age. While we were sitting, I suddenly felt Abby caressing my thigh under the table and remembered being warned to be careful with her. I turned my head to look at her and she simply kept eating and did not bother turning to look at me. I quietly reached down and removed her hand. I was not trying to get myself in trouble.
When we returned to the truck, once again it was Abby sitting next to me. On the way home her hand casually fell on my thigh and I decided not do anything. I wanted to see how far this little girl was willing to go. It went further up than what I expected. Her hand was making its way to my crotch when I finally decided to quietly move her hand away without my sister noticing. We got to her place and both girls got off. Jenny had made plans to spend the night and asked if I could pick her up the following day. I was not scheduled to work on Sunday and told her I would. We hugged and kissed before I left. Of course, Abby also hugged and kissed me on my earlobe, whispering into my ear “I'll see you tomorrow, lover boy.” with a big smile on her beautiful face before they both made their way up the stairs to Abby's apartment. That little girl gave me a chubby. I raced home, jacked off, showered and left for work where I ended up working an 8 hours shift due to some people calling out sick.
I got home late and went straight to bed. As much as I wanted to ignore what was happening with Abby and just brush it off as a joke, it had me wondering. Was she simply flirting because that was her nature or was she trying to getting something started. She was definitely trouble. She was a sexy little girl with a pair of great looking tits and a tight little ass that filled out her shorts very well. Her legs looked great on her and she had a cute face with nice lips and hazel eyes. She was probably about 5'2” with long brown hair down to her ass and weighed maybe 110 lbs. She was a nice little package.
As I laid in bed, thoughts of her kept me from falling asleep. I started wondering what she looked like naked with my cock in her mouth between her luscious lips. My cock was hard and my boxer were down by my ankles as I started stroking it thinking about Abby. I imagined her naked on her knees as I fucked her sweet little mouth hard. I was grabbing her hair and pulling her to me as I thrusted forward, with my cock going deep into her mouth, over and over. I hadn't cum in a long time as much as I did that night. This little girl was going to be my demise.
The following weekend my parents and sister had plans to spend the night out of town. My mom's younger sister had given birth to her fifth baby and my mom and Jenny were dying to go see the baby, as if they hadn't seen the first four. My dad went along because my mom told him he was going. I had to work on Sunday and was saved from the three hour trip. My plans were to mow the lawn on Saturday, take a nap, shower and go hang out with some friends from high school. There was gonna be all sorts of people from our class and I was excited to catch up with some of them.
I finished the backyard first. As I was working on the front lawn, I saw Abby stepping out of a car before it quickly drove off. She was looking fucking hot! She had a very short skirt that I'm sure would show her panties if she bent over and a tight top that was showing off her perky teenage tits and her hard little nipples. I was shirtless, only wearing shorts and my sneakers. As sweaty as I was, she came up and gave me a peck straight on my mouth saying “Hi lover boy. Where's Jenny?” She knew damn well that Jenny was gone for the weekend. I played along and told her she was gone for the weekend, asking her if Jenny had not told her. She suddenly “remembered” and asked if I could give her a ride home. I told her she would need to wait until I was finished.
She kept me company as I finished the yard, following me around and asking if I liked how she looked, telling me she had dressed up extra nice for me. I told her she looked very pretty in her outfit and if she was older I would probably ask her out. Something I never should've said. This was mistake number 2. I am sure it gave her more confidence in what she was about to do.
I finished the yard and we went inside. I fixed us some sandwiches and we had lunch, with her relentless flirtatious comments on what a good girlfriend she would be for me. Thoughtlessly, I asked what she would do to be such a good girlfriend. This was now mistake number 3, of course in baseball this is it. When she started talking about oral sex, I cut her off and told her I would be taking her home after my shower. This would be the nail in the coffin.
After exiting the shower, I walked to my room to find her sitting on my bed. All kinds of scenarios came to my head, which caused a very noticeable tent in the towel wrapped around my waist. I asked what she was doing in my room and, unconvincingly, told her to leave. She looked at my crotch and asked if I really wanted her to leave. I was not thinking straight as she approached me. Fuck she looked so sexy with her glossy lips, the same ones I had fantasized about. “You know, if you were my boyfriend, I would take real good care of you.” she said as her little hand slowly reached into my towel as she grabbed my stiff cock. Her words and actions were hypnotizing and I was losing control. She started stroking me nice and slow, telling me in a very seductive voice “If I was your girlfriend, I would always dress nice and sexy for you.”
I just looked at her, enjoying her little hand stroking my cock under my towel. Her hand was not able to completely wrap around my cock and that made it hotter. She fell to her knees and with both her hands she undid my towel and let it drop on the floor. She looked up at with me with her innocent looking eyes as she grabbed my cock. She pointed it down as she started nearing her open mouth. She said “If I was your girlfriend, I would suck your cock whenever you wanted” right before my cock was in her pretty little mouth, with her glossy lips stretched around it. My masturbatory fantasy was now a reality. What she lacked in experience, she made up for with enthusiasm.
She was sucking hard on my dick as she bobbed her head. A few times she tried going further down which only caused her to gag and start coughing. I'm sure with time she would get the hang of it. I could not move and made no attempt to stop her. I was astonished that she had gone this far and completely shocked how everything had played out to this point.
The sight of my thick cock in this little girl's mouth while kneeling there in front of me had my nuts tightening up. I was not going to last long. I sat down at the edge of the bed, with her following me on her knees, never allowing my dick to escape her mouth. I sat down to enjoy the pleasure her mouth was providing, knowing I would be cumming very soon. I tried warning her but she refused to let go. I suddenly felt my nuts explode and she started choking when I blasted in her mouth. However, she was a trooper and took my cock back into her mouth, swallowing as much cum as possible. She continued by licking up the cum on my shaft and balls. She was like a ravenous little puppy. When done, she got up, wiped her mouth with my towel and walked out of my room, telling me she would be waiting for me in the living room.
I stood there for a minute or two, wondering what had just happened. My sister's BFF had just given me head and swallowed most of my cum. How could I be blamed? She was the aggressor and I was the victim. Wasn't I? However, I chose to let her continue and never tried stopping her. I was enjoying watching my fantasy play out with her little hands on my cock. I was enjoying it too much watching her glossy lips wrapped around my shaft as she willingly took my cock into her little mouth.
Finally, I snapped out of my confused state and got dressed. I walked to the living room to find Abby sitting there quietly waiting for me. Her legs were slightly separated, offering me a nice view of her little white panties. I asked if she was ready to go and she said she was. For some reason, I felt compelled to go to her side and open the door for her. She jumped in and turned to me saying “Thank you lover boy.” I shook my head and walked around to get in myself. “You taste yummy.” she said as I started my truck. I immediately turned it off and told her we needed to talk.
I told her that what happened could not happen again. She was my sister's friend and she was way too young for me. “I don't remember you stopping me when I had your cock in my mouth” she answered as she reached out to grab my cock. Of course, it felt nice and I did not move her hand away. “We can be secret lovers. No one would ever know and I'll never tell anyone, not even Jenny” she said as she squeezed my cock that was now stiff as a brick.
I did not agree to it, but I also did not give her a firm no. Her proposal was very tempting. The thought of having someone to give me head on demand was very tempting. She had done a good job and I can only imagine her getting better over time. I turned on the truck and drove her home in silence with her offer playing over and over in my head. On the way over, she had slowly started making her way closer and closer to me. When we arrived at her place she was sitting next to me. I turned to her to tell her we could not be together when I felt her lips on mine. For a girl her age, she was very bold and daring. Her lips felt soft and I simply kissed her back. Her little tongue felt so nice dueling with my tongue when I pushed it into her mouth, with her hand grabbing my dick the whole time. Somehow I managed to come to my senses and told her we had to stop. She gave me a quick peck and left my truck.
I drove home and stayed in my truck in the driveway for several minutes wondering what the fuck was I going to do with her. Was I in trouble if I didn't go along with her offer? Was she going to tell Jenny or worse, her mom? Would she tell my parents and I would end up getting kicked out of the house? Eventually, I went in and took a nap, another shower and left to the get-together that soon turned into a party.
The party was a blast! It was great catching up with old friends, especially some of the girls. It was funny how a lot of the roles had reversed. The hot girls from the in-crowd already had a kid or two, gained weight and not looking so hot, while the quiet nerds were looking hot. The thing was, I couldn't get out of my head what had happened with Abby earlier in the day. As much as I tried talking to some of the girls and trying to hook up, I felt like I was cheating on her. What the fuck!
I stayed at the party until about 2 am before I headed home, alone. I was feeling tired and decided to watch some porn and shoot one off before going to sleep. I chose Teen Girls as my genre and ended up ***********ing POV porn where a very young looking girl was giving me head. It was perfect for what I had in mind. I started off with the porn, but ended up closing my eyes picturing Abby kneeling in front of me while taking my hard cock in her mouth, wrapping her glossy sexy lips around my cock. I started stroking harder and faster and came within minutes. I cleaned up the mess, closed my eyes and started thinking on how much trouble I was already in. I would definitely not be able to resist her if we ever found ourselves alone.
Jenny and my parents were back Sunday night. My parents were tired so they went to their bedroom to shower and got to bed early. Jenny stayed up watching TV with me while texting on her phone. She asked if anything special happened while she was gone. Oh shit, did Jenny already spill the beans? I casually answered no, other than her annoying little friend coming by to harass me. She started laughing, telling me that she could be annoying at times. I told her I fed her and then took her home. I was still not sure what Abby had really told her, but I was not about to admit anything. She told me that Abby definitely had the hots for me and asked if I thought she was pretty. I decided to go with the truth. Yes, I said, she is very pretty and has a nice tight body. I told her that if she was a classmate, I would definitely be interested, then quickly changed the channel and the subject.
During the following week, I worked on both Monday and Tuesday and had Wednesday off. I asked Jenny if she was up for anything. She said she and Abby had been wanting to see a teen chick flick about werewolves and vampires that had recently come out and was wondering it I would be willing to go. My goal that summer was to spend more time with her and so I agreed.
The movie was for 3 pm. Around 2 pm, we jumped into my truck and swung by Abby's before heading to the movies. Same as last time, Abby was wearing a short skirt and a tight shirt that she tied below her tits, showing off her sexy tummy. Fuck she looked good! We bought our tickets, grabbed some popcorn and walked into the cinema. Yes, you guessed it, I had a girl on either side. The lights went out and the previews started. Also, Abby's hand came to rest on my thighs and started caressing. I knew my attempts to stop her were futile, I simply needed to let her go until she was done with her teasing.
Her strokes on my on my thigh were going higher and higher and my cock was getting uncomfortably hard. I slowly turned to see if Jenny was looking our way and luckily she was not. She was focused on the screen. Abby leaned over and whispered in my ear “I love your cock” as she started stroking it over the jeans. I tried placing the popcorn tub over my crotch to help hide her hand. Even then, if Jenny would've looked down, I am sure she would've seen everything. Abby had me so worked up and I was struggling, trying to keep my breathing under control and trying not to cum in my pants with my sister sitting there next to me.
After a while, I could not stand it any longer and I casually moved her hand away. I looked over to give her a stern look, but she was looking up at the screen as if everything was fine. I turned my head back to the screen trying to figure out the plot when she grabbed my hand and placed it on her deliciously smooth thigh. Oh fuck, she felt so nice. She grabbed my hand and slowly started dragging it up and down her thigh. My cock was getting hard, again. It felt like she was dragging my hand higher and higher on her thigh until I felt it. My pinkie finger was directly on her slit.
My finger was touching her little pussy and I could feel her sparse hairs. She was not wearing any panties! She was becoming a young lady and it turned me on knowing I was probably the first man touch her virgin pussy. How I didn't cum in my pants at that very moment I'll never know. She purposely came to the movies with the sole purpose of having me touch her cunt. What was she expecting to happen? This girl was wild and I had failed to heed my sister's warning.
She started stroking herself, slow at first but eventually she had my finger pressed hard against her little pussy as she started pleasuring herself. She started off slow, but soon she was stroking her slit faster and faster with my finger. How she managed not to moan nor make any noises impressed me. Her pussy felt so wet and slippery as she started try to insert my finger into her. She was only able to go up to the first knuckle before I felt what I could only assume was her hymen.
She went back to stroking her slit, spending a little extra time stimulating her clit. I doubt she knew what it was, I'm sure she did it because she had discovered that it felt good. I could feel her thighs starting to shake as she had an orgasm while using my finger on herself. The whole time she kept her head up at the screen until the moment she came. She turned her head to me and bit down on my shoulder to help keep her from screaming. That was so hot but it fucking hurt like hell.
After that moment, we started a little game of grab ass. Whenever she was visiting Jenny, which was always, we would drive each other crazy grabbing each other inappropriately. She would walk by in front of me as her hand caressed my cock or I would come up from behind and grab her ass when no one was looking, which was easy when my sister was somewhere else in the house and my parents were at work. She had a nice fucking ass that felt nice and full in my hand. It drove me crazy when she would wear leggings, showing me exactly how nice her ass really was.
On one occasion, all three of us were in the living room binge-watching one of their girly shows. By this time, Jenny was used to Abby and me openly flirting. I was sitting on the couch and Abby was sitting next to me leaning up against me, as if she was with her boyfriend. Jenny looked over and did not even bother rolling her eyes. She reached for a blanket for herself and threw one our way. Abby grabbed it and arranged it so it covered us below the waist.
As I was hoping, her hand very quickly went for my dick. It was late and we were all in our pajamas. Jenny was in an old t-shirt of mine. Abby was in cotton shorts and a tight t-shirt that nicely showed off her nipples with no bra. I was wearing some loose basketball shorts with no underwear, hoping it would prove to be helpful. She slipped her hand under my waistband and grabbed my cock. This little vixen loved playing with my cock and I was enjoying every minute of it. She reached in and pulled it out while pushing down my shorts. She was stroking slowly, more so because it felt nice and not really to make me cum. She was holding it and stroking it as a little girl holds on to something that is hers. She was laying claim to my dick and I was okay with that.
I had no idea what was going on with the show and I didn't care. My eyes were closed as Abby did her thing. Before long, I heard Jenny as she started lightly snoring and we both looked over at her. Her head was slumped back on the sofa while she snored. What Abby did next scared the shit out of me and excited me simultaneously. She pushed off the blanket that was hiding my hard dick. There I was, sitting on the sofa with my dick in her little her hands for anyone to see. She got on her knees, completely pulled my shorts off and took my cock into her deliciously warm wet mouth.
She was on her knees sucking my cock with Jenny asleep three feet away from us. She could wake up at any minute and I would literally be caught with my shorts down. Abby started bobbing her head and her hands also started stroking me in rhythm with her mouth. The first time she gave me a blowjob in my bedroom, it felt good more because of the circumstance of being surprised, but this time she was really going at it. She managed to get more of my cock in her mouth than last time and she was sucking hard on my cock. I would later find out that she had done her homework on YouTube to find out how to give a good blowjob. She was proving to be a good student.
She was doing everything right. She was sucking, stroking and caressing my balls. It felt so fucking nice. This was all being done by Abby, the sexy little girl I had known forever as my little sister's best friend. She was now on her knees looking up at me with her lips tightly wrapped around my cock. I was struggling, trying to keep from moaning to avoid waking up my sister. Abby could probably sense I was very close. She started bobbing her head even faster and started sucking harder. I did not hold back and could not warn Abby without waking up Jenny. I came hard into her mouth and she actually managed to swallow most of it.
What she did next caught me off guard. She took off her shirt and cleaned up the mess. I was seeing her gorgeous tits for the first time. Wow! She gave me a coquettish smile before she ran off to Jenny's room only to come back wearing a different top. She went over to wake up Jenny and take her back to her room.
A few nights later, Jenny and Abby were cuddling on the couch and this time I was alone on the other end. Again, we were watching some movie about a love triangle and I was starting to doze off when I felt the couch move. Abby was helping Jenny stand up as they turned off the TV and walked off to bed. I assumed I would be going to bed with blue balls that night when I saw Abby walking back to me. She straddled me and we start kissing right away. This gorgeous little girl felt perfect on my lap.
She was so fucking horny and I could sense it. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and took it off, telling me to grab her tits. She wanted me to grab and squeeze her tits hard and I was happy to accommodate her desires. She was getting more confident as time went on. She had started calling me babe, even around Jenny, and I loved it.
“Do you like my tits, huh babe? Are my little titties as nice as the college girls you fuck?”
This little girl was young and already good with her dirty talk. I told her that her titties were better than the girls at school because they were a perfect mouthful with dark little nipples that felt great in my mouth. I was so fucking turned on, sucking on her tits so hard as if I was trying to extract milk from them. There was no doubt she could feel my hard cock pushing up against her little cunt.
We went back to kissing as she told me to push down my shorts. I did as she instructed while she pushed down her shorts. She was now completely naked sitting on my lap with her tits pushed up against me with my stiff cock trapped between us pointing north. The only thing I was still wearing was my t-shirt that I was sure was going to be removed pretty soon. She started pushing her now bald little pussy forward, up against my cock. She was was rocking back and forth as we kissed with her softly moaning every time her pussy made contact with my cock. How that hell did she learn that so quickly?
All of a sudden, she reached down to grab my cock and pushed it down so that it was now under her pussy. She started once again rocking back and forth, grinding her little wet cunt directly on my cock. I looked down and her little pussy looked so tiny against my thick cock. Holy fuck! She was starting to get all worked up. By this time her head was next to mine with her mouth next to my ear. I could hear her breathing heavily and I knew she would be cumming as soon as I went in.
She started telling me how wet her pussy was and how much she wanted me to fuck her.. “Oh fuck babe, I want you to fuck me right now with your big cock. I want you to be my first and make me yours. You need to go slow. I don't know if your big thick cock is gonna fit in my pussy?” I almost came just hearing her say that. She stood up on her knees and started lining up my cock to her slit. She started rubbing my cock back and forth on her slit, getting my cock nice and wet as she continued to moan non-stop.
Then suddenly, just as my cock started going in and started spreading her pussy lips, a bright light came from the kitchen. We immediately froze and looked at each other and then to the kitchen. We saw my dad standing in front of the fridge looking for something to eat or drink. Abby jumped off from my lap, grabbed her clothes and ran off naked down the hall to Jenny's room. Any other time I would've busted out laughing but I was too busy reaching down for my shorts before quietly running off to my room.
We cooled it down for a bit. That was a wake up call for both of us. We still flirted with each other, but the touching and the late night shenanigans were put on hold. I was talking to my mom one morning before heading off to work and she made a comment that reminded me to be careful. She pointed out the fact that most of my free time was spent with the girls, telling me that they were young ladies and I needed to watch myself around them, especially Abby. Mom did not want me spending so much time with them, explaining that Abby would start developing a crush on me. Too late, mom (I thought to myself, recalling Abby on her knees sucking my cock.) I assured her I would be careful, reminding her that the purpose of me coming home was to spend more time with Jenny.
A couple of weeks after we were almost caught in the living room by my dad, my parents told us dad had to fly out to his company's corporate office for some sort of meeting and they had encouraged everyone to bring their spouses. The meeting was to run from Monday to Wednesday. My mom asked for the time off and she would be joining him. Right away Jenny and Abby started scheming and nicely asked my parents that if I agreed to chaperon could they have a party with only a few friends. Some negotiating went on back and forth as to what “a few” meant, what time would everyone be leaving, who could spend the night and all the other details that would make mom and dad feel comfortable.
My parents actually went out to purchase an above-ground pool for the party. They left Saturday morning to have some time to themselves before the meeting started on Monday morning. The party was also scheduled for that same Saturday.
Everyone started showing up around 1 pm. My parents had originally approved the party for no more than 5 people. I secretly told her to invite up to ten. Five girls and four boys showed up. It was interesting to see the girls dressed up in some revealing bikinis with the boys spening most of their time in the pool, staring at the girls. I'm sure they were hiding something that would have embarrassed them.
The girls were actually looking really good. One of the girls actually seemed to have tits bigger than Abby, but she was also a bit on the heavy side. Abby had the sexiest bikini that nicely showed off her tits and allowed some of her ass to hang out, giving the boys plenty to appreciate. I actually surprised myself by constantly checking out Jenny. She too had a bikini that looked great on her. At times I noticed her hard little nipples and her ass was just as nice as Abby's.
I hung out for a bit before I got the grill going. Thanks to my sunglasses I enjoyed checking out the young ladies as I grilled the burgers. They were soon hungry and everyone came to collect their food and grabbed a seat to have lunch. Everyone really seemed to be having a great time. I helped clean up and then made myself scarce I did not want to come across as the creepy older brother that was checking his little sister's friends.
When the swimming was over, I heard them coming into the house to watch a movie. Nobody was ready to go home. A couple of the girls had already made plans to spend the night, but most would be leaving. After a while, it got quiet and I felt obligated to go see what was happening. Most in the group were playing spin-the-bottle, but there were two couples making out on the couch. I saw no harm in it and made my way back to my room.
It was past 11 pm when the party finally ended. Jenny, Abby and the two other girls laid out blankets on the the sofas or on the living room floor and started dozing off watching TV. Abby was looking fucking hot in a pajama set with small tight shorts and with a tight tank top showing off her tits. I said goodnight to them and went to my room. I turned on the TV in my room and started watching a rerun of Die Hard.
Around 2 am, I heard my door open and I knew exactly who it was.
“Took you long enough.”
“Sorry. The girls kept talking and I wanted to make sure everyone was asleep.”
We didn't waste any more time. We both knew why she was in my room and we had not been together in over two weeks. We were desperate and horny. Ever since we had started hooking up, I had not been with anyone else. Subconsciously, I started seeing her as my secret girlfriend. She wasted no time. She closed and locked the door behind her before she walked to my bed.
With a bashful look on her face she hesitated before slowly taking off her tank top and shorts. It was such a wild turn-on knowing she was ready for me when I noticed she wasn't wearing underwear as she removed her shorts. It was such a perverted sight with this little girls standing there in front of me naked and looking so innocent with beautiful breasts and a little-girl's bald pussy. She had actually cleanly shaved her pussy just for me. Her glistening slit was there for me to enjoy.
Whatever we did was going to be of her own doing. She was completely naked when she jumped into bed and crawled over and laid on me. She was the perfect size and felt so good as I wrapped my arms around her and landing on her delicious full ass. I had gone to bed wearing only a pair of shorts. The skin on skin contact as her tits pushed against my chest was electrifying.
We started making out, with her telling me that she was happy were finally alone so I could fuck her. She told me there was nothing to worry about, her mother did not want to be a grandma at 32 and had put her on the pill a few months earlier. She told me she wanted me to make love to her and not stop when I was ready to cum. She had heard that girls are actually able to feel when the guy cums and she wanted to feel me shooting into her cunt.
She was laying on me and my hands were all over her as we shoved our tongues into each others mouth. Whenever we kissed I could never get enough of her little tongue in my mouth. My cock was as hard as a light post as she would grind her little pussy against it. She asked me to take off my shorts and I told her she would need to do that. She got a big smile on her face and grabbed my shorts by the waistband and started pulling them down. Same as before, it was wishful thinking when I chose not to wear any underwear.
My cock sprang out and she continued pulling my shorts until they were completely off. She came back up and we went back to kissing with her little pussy pressed up against my hard cock. Her little naked body felt so nice against me.
After a while, she sat up and started grinding her pussy up and down the length of my cock, getting it nice and wet. I could actually feel the heat from her little cunt on my shaft. That was driving me mad. If I allowed her to continue, she was going to make me cum. I pulled her down to me and quickly rolled us over so I was now on top. She felt so small under me. I was definitely going to enjoy fucking this beautiful sexy creature.
I lowered my head and started kissing her neck. I was so horny that my initial urge was to line up my cock and fuck her hard. To show her what it was to be fucked by a man, but I also knew this was going to be her first time and I wanted to make it special for her. I took a deep breath and told myself to slow down. Continuing to kiss her on the neck, I started my way down, wanting to taste her fresh virgin pussy.
I kissed ever square inch of her as I made my way to her tits, with her hard little nipples waiting for me. I took my time licking and sucking on them, telling her how much I was loving her body. The only sounds coming from her were moans, oohs, and ahhhs. I used those to guide me. I would run my flat tongue to lick up on her nipples and I would get a loud moan from her, telling me her nipples were very sensitive. I spent my time on her tits, determined to try and make her orgasm. When I felt her grab my head and bring harder against her chest while trying to push her pelvis up, I knew I was onto something.
I started licking and sucking faster and harder. I heard her breathing harder and her little body started shaking. I licked and sucked even harder wanting her body to explode with pleasure. She took a deep breath before she started yelling out loud “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck....I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming!” I immediately reached up and put my hand on her mouth tellng her she needed to be quiet. She tried to apologize as she caught her breath. She told me she did not know women could come simply by having their tits sucked on. I told her that other men usually don't take the time to find out.
I continue my downward journey as I lowered my head and kissed her on her tight little tummy. It's not traditionally an erogenous part of the body, but hers looked so cute and tight. She started giggling the minute I touched it with my mouth that she forced me to move on. I would need to spend more time there if we ever did this again. I moved down and started on her thighs. She calmed down and went back to moaning and enjoying my kisses on her body. She opened her legs even wider to give me access to her great looking little treasure. As I continued licking and kissing both her thighs, I looked up and noticed something that put a smile on my face. Her cute hairless pussy was glistened with her juices, showing me her excitement.
I licked on the sides of her pussy, teasing her as I avoided making direct contact. I licked around it for a while with her tummy moving up and down as she breathed hard. I reached up and grabbed her tits the moment my tongue made contact with her sex. She instantly reached down and pressed my head hard against her as she pushed her hips up. This was the first time anybody had licked her pussy and it hit her like a ton of bricks. I was enjoying myself showing her all the pleasures of sex. I licked her all over and sucked on her labia and the whole time she tried pushing my head into her pussy, remembering to whisper, telling me how good I was making her feel and telling me that she loved me. I assumed it was the sex talking.
I took my hands and reached under to grab her ass cheeks to pull her up and squeeze them. Her cheeks felt nice in my hands. They were full and as she grew older would only get bigger and better looking. She was breathing harder and I knew it was time to make her come again. My tongue searched for and easily sought out her sensitive little clit. The moment I licked it her entire body let me know she liked that. I felt her body stiffen before she threw a pillow over her face and started moaning loudly. I continued my assault on her precious pebble, taking it into my mouth and sucking on it just hard enough to make her feel good.
One hand was keeping the pillow in place over her face as her other hand reached down to hold my head in place. Once again she started humping her pelvis against my face as she started trembling. She started cumming for the second time that night. I pulled away as I enjoyed watching her little body tremble non-stop. I ended up laying down next to her as she finally calmed down.
She turned her head toward and said “That was fucking awesome. Oh my god, I have never felt anything like that. How did you know what to do? Can we do it again?” I told her that if she wanted, we could do it as many times as she wanted, but we were not done. I got up and started getting on top of her. Without saying any words she had a knowing look and smile on her face.
She spread her legs wide to give me her virginity.. She was giving me permission to make love to her, to penetrate her tiny pussy and make her mine. I told here that this would only happen if she really wanted this. She reached out to grab my cock and lined it up with her vagina and started rubbing the head against it. She looked up at me and said exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Baby, please make love to me.”
I pushed forward and my cock started penetrating her tiny cunt. I looked down and saw as it started stretching out as my thick cock started entering her. She started grimacing as I went in further until I was stopped and knew what was next. I told her that it would hurt like hell when I tore her cherry, but it was necessary in order to give her what she asked of me. I also told her that it was best that we approach it like you would a band aid.
We made eye contact as I kissed her and asked if she was ready. She nodded her head and whispered to me “Fuck me baby, this pussy is all yours.” That shot up my sexual adrenaline and got my cock even harder, if that was even possible. Never losing eye contact with her I push my hips forward and I tore her hymen. She had a look on her face as if she wanted to cry, as if someone had just whipped her with a belt. Tears were rolling down the side of her face and her mouth was wide open, ready to scream, but she never did.
I stopped with my cock half way in. I did what needed to be done. That tight little teenage cunt was now mine and I was ready to fuck her hard. She had decided to give herself to a man and this was the result. She was now going to get fucked hard by a man. I stayed there waiting for her to give me the signal that she was ready to continue. As I waited, I enjoyed how good my cock felt in her very tight cunt. She was very wet and still I could feel her vaginal muscled wrapped tightly all around my cock. She felt so fucking good and tight. Looking down, it was an amazing sight. Her tight cunt was stretched to its limit with her labia tightly sealed around my thick cock.
She was my second virgin. My first had been my high school girlfriend with whom I also lost my virginity to. I was young and did not properly appreciate it as I did now with Abby.
After she had calmed down a bit and seemed to be breathing a lot better, I slowly started going in and out, allowing her tight little cunt to get accustomed to my thick cock. It was very tight, whether I was going in or out, even though it was very wet. Slowly, I was eventually able to go all the way in. I had bottomed out and my balls were hitting her ass every time I pushed forward. She had her arms around my neck and we were either kissing or she was begging me not to stop. She kept telling me to keep fucking her and that she never knew it could feel so good. She actually started crying softly, thanking me for making love to her and making her feel so good.
It was time to put it in high gear. I wanted her orgasm to hit her hard. I threw her legs over my shoulders and started pumping my cock hard and fast into her tight cunt. I was determined to make her cum and she had a face that told me she was very close. I found the energy to continue as I pounded hard over and over. I had only one speed, hard and fast. That's when she started seeing stars as she lost control. She started cumming and shaking hard as she screamed out loud before I shoved the pillow into her face again. She held the pillow to her face as I continued my assault on her tight no-longer-virgin cunt.
I allowed her to rest for a moment before I grabbed her like a rag doll and turned her around onto her stomach. I grabbed her and picked her up by her hips to line up her cunt with my cock. I was like a possessed man claiming his prize. I brought her cunt to my cock and pulled her to me. I pushed my hips forward and shoved my cock right back into her. She yelped when she felt my cock shoved into her cunt. I held on tight to her hips and started pulling her to me every time I pushed my cock back in. I was holding on to her by her hips, pulling and pushing her back and forth on my cock. She was my personal sex doll as I fucked her with abandon.
The best part about fucking her from behind was looking down to see her little starfish. I knew that my cock would be in heaven if she ever allowed me in. Regardless of how tight her pussy felt, her little asshole would be the ultimate conquest.
With her face buried in the pillow, I could faintly hear her cries of passion. I had never gone on this long without cumming. I wanted to make sure she got the fucking of a lifetime that would keep her coming back for more. On several occasions I felt her body shaking and it felt like she would temporarily lose consciousness.
I kept going, pulling her hard against me as I pushed my cock hard into her pussy. There was no talking between us, it was simply raw animal fucking. My balls could only take so much banging against her clit and I felt my orgasm building up. I pulled her hard against me with my cock deep in her as I shot rope after rope of my hot cum into her. It was a perverted thought of satisfaction knowing I was the first man to cum in her pussy and wondered how many more would come after me. How many more would she allow to violate her little cunt?
I pulled out and she dropped like dead weight onto the bed as I laid down next to her. She turned her head to me and as much as she tried, she could not speak. She had to first catch her breath because she had just received the fucking of her life.
She woke up an hour later and woke me up, telling me she had to get back to the living room where all the other girls were sleeping. She got dressed and walked away on wobbly legs to use the bathroom before heading back. With my door closed I heard her open the door and talking to Jenny. I was not able to hear exactly what was said.
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Before A Midsummer Night's Dream
Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so.
As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then.
I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do?
I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them.
By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself.
As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned.
II
I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied.
My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household.
In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it?
I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most.
This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there.
After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it.
III
Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate.
To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have.
Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick.
Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before.
I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her.
By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy.
People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied.
I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall.
I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was.
I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower.
In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid.
But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked.
My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer.
IV
I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home.
More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling.
After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in.
During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story.
My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me.
With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it.
V
It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open.
It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going.
People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s.
I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off.
I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling.
I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her.
Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day.
VI
Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively.
I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then.
I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me.
This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them.
Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter?
There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'.
I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again.
Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol.
But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do.
VII
I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them.
Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem.
Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect.
VIII
I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody.
I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that!
I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present.
I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness.
As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run.
My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him.
IX
He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not.
As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore.
I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him.
An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer.
I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul.
I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves.
There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers.
What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me.
I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it.
When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end.
X
I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit.
I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch.
I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was.
In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did.
First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman.
My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally.
He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes.
He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true.
I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning.
I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good.
XI
I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on.
He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen.
My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property.
XII
The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this.
We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle.
My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more.
I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad?
I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart.
Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this.
XIII
We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all.
He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside.
He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too.
I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss.
XIV
You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it.
I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive.
I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity?
My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed.
He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused.
He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap.
He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime.
My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?
It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it.
This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly.
XV
At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly!
He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down.
In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense.
My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking.
I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano.
I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent.
We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic.
On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs.
My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner.
XVI
I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in.
Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides.
I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound?
Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said.
XVII
The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt.
Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly.
The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night.
The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not.
Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti
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