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Her hair cascaded over the delicate curve of her shoulder in gentle waves of golden tresses. Her face was relaxed, no wrinkle to speak of, smooth, pale, young. She slept. She deserved the rest; her travails were great, respite had not come soon enough – unhappily. Her bare breasts rose and fell as she slowly breathed that slow, shallow breath of exhaustion. The pointed coral pink colored tips of the small cone shaped nipples appeared to hover, as they floated, perched upon the pale white skin of the small breasts.
I reached for a decorative throw to cover her naked form, and to ward off the chill of the evening air. She didn’t move as I tucked it around her shoulders. Her clothes lay scattered around the room, hanging from chairs, lying on the floor, crumpled under the edge of the sofa, wherever they happened to land hours earlier as she frantically removed them. I could only find one shoe, so small they almost hid themselves. I gathered what I could find, placed them neatly on the lamp table at her feet, and went to my bed, and to sleep.
The morning sun chased the shadows from the room, as my eyes adjusted to the stark reality of light and a hammering head ache – the years took their toll on my ability to consume alcohol and perform physically demanding sexual acts. One or the other seemed realistic both had a severe penalty due in full sometime the next morning. Forty-five isn’t old. Its just a number, but like all numbers it is only useful in certain situations; a drunken sexual interlude with a young girl is a definite mismatch. But who could resist? Not I.
I kept in shape after leaving the service. One thing I learned was that your health is all you have when naked and in bed. I had developed a reputation early in life as a cock’s man. Mostly it was crap – stuff ex-girlfriends and guys that had been cock-blocked in the process had perpetrated as a myth. I did love sex. And tried hard to effectuate any and all sexual adventures, from my perspective I was hardly as successful as I would like to have been. Perhaps that is the point of disagreement between the divergent opinions; they thought I was too successful, I felt I wasn’t.
My cherry was taken in much the same manner as this discussion; I met a ‘hippie chick’ in a park, I was very young, she in her twenties, I was talking like I was this great lover trying hard to put the moves on her.
At one point in the conversation she just said “You’re trying too hard; I’m a sure thing!”
I had spent over an hour prattling around the subject and didn’t recognize her as a ‘sure thing’. I still have problems to this day determining just where I stand with women.
No, I am not going to catalog my exploits here, but this prattle is instructive. You see, in the early eighties I was posted in the south at a military installation that lacked affordable housing for soldiers. Trailer parks were where most young soldiers and their families seemed to congregate, as I did with my young wife, Ellen. Our neighbors were all about our age, and a few had kids, we didn’t. Weekends were spent playing cards or board games that kept the costs of entertainment low – an important consideration for struggling military families.
Our favorite couple to spend time with lived directly across the street from us, Dan and Dot. They were from Vermont, had been married right after high school and already had two kids. Dan was an effusive, fun loving guy. He made you feel good when you talked about yourself, always added a positive twist to even tragic situations. “Man, you made it here didn’t you?” or, “You’re sure doing well now!” a great friend. Dot was a sweetheart; petite, blonde, fun, and inexperienced in the ways of the world. Her own back yard in the Vermont hills was where she grew up, having never traveled, until they moved in across the street from us.
Several months after Dan and Dot moved in Ellen had moved home to be close to her ailing grandmother. Needless to say my horn-dog inclinations being what they were, I began to frequent the local bars picking up women who just wanted casual sex, as I did. This was harder than it should have been. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been dating and lacked the requisite skills, or – more likely – I just couldn’t get interested in some of the slugs that passed themselves off as women. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve screwed some pretty ugly girls from time to time. But these were very close to being declared a separate species: Unofficially I called them ‘buffarillos’.
I was developing a serious case of ‘blue balls’ when Dan’s unit went on an extended training exercise, he wouldn’t be back for a month. This occurred quite often so no one anticipated anything unusual. We pulled together as a small community. If someone needed transportation somebody was always available to help, it was pretty good like that back then. Anyway, Dot didn’t drive – she never left her back yard, remember? – She needed a lift to the commissary, that’s what soldiers call the grocery store. I volunteered and off we went. I helped her in with the bags of groceries and she thanked me profusely, a good deed pendik escort done.
Dot and a friend of hers decided to have a girl’s night in at Dot’s house that night. Both had kids, and so they were subdued in their partying, music and wine sufficed. Along about midnight I heard a knock on my door. I answered and found the two girls, quite drunk standing on my porch, sans the kids. They pressed their way by me with a giggle and a “Hello.” Once inside they popped the cork on a bottle of wine and began passing it between themselves. I stood bleary eyed wondering how I would explain their presence here, when Dot’s friend stood up, marched to the door, and left. The abrupt manner of her departure seemed unpremeditated at the time, later it became clear I had been set up. She was there for Dot’s moral support, nothing else.
Dot moved close to me, the smell of wine was thick on her. Her eyes heavy with alcohol and lust, she wasn’t drunk, just uninhibited. She ran her hands down her slender hips and thighs, her eyes darting to mine to see if I was taking the bait – I was. My penis needed little impetus to throb to full measure and her right hand slid to my lap, just grazing the outline of the confined mass located there. She tilted her head back, her hair loosely falling to the back of the couch. As I positioned my mouth close to hers, her eyes closed, her mouth opened and I got the first taste of her sweet wine flavored lips.
As her tongue darted between my lips, I watched wide eyed as this pretty little thing vibrated a sexual presence I had never felt before in a woman. Lust and pent up desire swelled in me. I slid one hand under her blouse to caress a breast; the other snaked its way into her pants, desperately searching for her sex. Her pants were tight, my hand became trapped at her pubic mound, the soft silky hair perched there felt of velvet. She sensed the obstruction, lifted her hips and with a flick of her wrist the front of her pants flew open. Unabated access to her treasure heightened my already amplified arousal; I placed a finger into her warm, moist love canal. A small “Oh,” escaped from deep inside her.
My discomfort was excruciating, she helped me out of my clothes as hers fell to the floor at her feet, we stepped out of the pile and she sat back, her hips at the edge of the cushions on the couch. I knelt between her slender thighs spread wide and quivering. My tongue went straight for the prize, the knot of her clitoris was large, about the size of a cashew, it was engorged and rolled under my gentle provocations. Without warning her hands grabbed my head, she curled forward, her stomach muscles convulsing in knots, her legs drawing up as her feet pressed against my back. Her violent eruption on my face startled me, momentarily. Recovering, I started drawing my tongue along the entire length of her vaginal opening, pinning my nose against the bud of her clit.
She screamed out loudly. “God, oh god!” Her body wracked with wave after wave of spasms coursing through her tiny frame. As the convulsions slowed to jerks and quivers, she mewed like a kitten. “Mmm, ohh, ahh.” I continued to tease the clit, but had now placed my thumbs on either side of her wet lips and spread them wide, the contrast between the brown of the lips and the pink of the canal was interestingly distinct; as if someone had painted the crown to the lips with a brush, the line where it faded to pink was erratic and uneven. I marveled in its intricate folds, as the faint light cast its shadow there.
Looking back, I truly feel she had achieved her goal, but felt beholden to me for having performed for her. She smiled and moved to the floor, spreading her legs in an inviting pose, and waited expectantly for me to mount her. I did. My raging phallus was ready for the act, my heightened state of arousal betrayed me; several hard strokes and I was blowing my hot seed into her belly, unprotected as we were, no thought was given to anything but passion. A man knows that when his ejaculation is too quick, the release is often short lived, so it was to be with me that glorious evening. It would be the bane of our several relationships that I would desire more than perhaps the situation warranted. A one night stand, may have been survivable, more was catastrophic.
We continued like this, torrid late night sexual encounters, every night for three weeks, until Dan returned from training. The abrupt loss of my sexual partner dealt a severe blow to me. It was strangely more intense than the separation from my wife. The taboo and illicit nature of the relationship had an inherent component of excitement that could not be duplicated by other means. I didn’t go to bars or pick up other women, I waited…for Dot. How absolutely perverse it was looking back, being faithful to my wife was never an issue, but my desire for Dot was an involuntary emotional response that restrained me.
I tried often to get her alone, she seemed willing, but made no real effort to satisfy my need. She was content with her husband, and I was just a surrogate in his absence. My need exceeded kartal escort hers; her needs were what motivated her. I got lucky one Saturday evening; Dan had to pull twenty-four hour duty and that left Dot at home. She walked across the drive when I came home and as casually as someone would ask for the time said, “You free tonight?” Of course I was, and I said as much to her, as she walked back to her trailer.
Life isn’t fair. Ellen returned, her grandmother having passed away. The tension I felt when Dot was around became a disquieting source of irritation. I tolerated the get-togethers – barely. Dan had been spending weekdays training, day and night, and Dot and I had been unable to be together. Ellen was just too attentive for me to screw around while she was there. Then the gods showed us the way; a huge storm blew through the area and the power was out in our little neighborhood. With flashlights and umbrellas we got Dot and her kids into our trailer. We lit the place up with candles and kids were soon fast asleep on the living room floor. Ellen wasn’t far behind.
Making sure that Ellen was fast asleep, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the pitch black of the living room, carefully feeling my way amongst the kids until I came upon Dot. She was startled by my dark presence, so I managed a whisper, “Dot, it’s me.” Her small hand felt for me, found my head and pulled my face to hers. We kissed for several minutes, lying on our sides, facing one another. Careful not to bump the kids scattered around us, we peeled enough clothing away to allow us to barely touch, but not much else. Frustrated, I was ready to just jump on top of her; she stopped me, rolled to face away and exposed herself to me from the rear. I moved close, spooning with her, and found her moist opening ready for my penetration.
The love making that night was tenuous; every movement sounded like a screeching crescendo. I humped into her tiny little body from behind, I shoved inexorably forward, and then, suddenly, I could stand it no more, and I rammed into her with everything I had, sinking my lust-inflated cock all the way to the deepest recesses of her warmly accepting young belly. I could feel the soft, sperm-filled sac of my balls slap tightly against her jerking buttocks and her legs kicked out in the air from the relentless onward pressure. But she responded quietly, digging in and grinding her wetly clasping cunt back up my smoothly skewering shaft, begging for more of the cruel treatment.
I could hardly contain myself as her grunts of pleasure resounded through her tightly clenched lips. I set up a quick rhythmic fucking motion, further incited by the flat smack of naked flesh on naked flesh as my belly smacked heavily against Dot’s back with each lust-heated stroke. It seemed impossible, but it was true: I was ramming my hard thick cock up into the warmly quivering confines of Dot’s cunt with my wife just a few feet away and was loving every minute of it … God, she could drive me wild when it came to fucking … I had never had anything like this before and it took the utmost of my self-control to hold off from coming instantly into the softly squeezing walls of her cunt.
“Oh, Ooooooh, Arhgh,” she quietly groaned as I pushed with greater force through the hotly pulsating passage. “Oh, fill me, fiiiiilll meeee,” the sounds came incoherently. I pressed my body against her, squeezing the firm tits tightly with my hands. My shoulders pushed against her back, my knees flailed behind hers as I kept her locked in that vulnerable position and I fucked heavily into her.
I forced my right hand between the cheeks of her ass, kneading the warm soft flesh and pulling the gently rotating cheeks further apart. I could feel the hot smooth walls of her tightly clasping cunt sucking hungrily at my aching cock, convulsing tightly around my rapidly plunging hardness. Goddamn it, I’m going to get caught, I thought. Then, before I could begin another thought, it began for her. “Aaaaaagh, I’m coming!” she mewed over her shoulder, as her body pressed back into me, slipping and churning in a furious spasm.
“I’m coming too,” I mumbled, speeding up the already furious rhythm of my strokes. I could feel the hot white cum building up inside my heated balls as they beat hard against her wildly gyrating ass. But I couldn’t let it stop! I was going to spurt my boiling semen into this girl’s sweet little belly until she was filled to the bursting point with the dual mixture of our hotly gushing cum juices … and then, I could feel it – the muscles of her cunt clasping voraciously around me and massaging my cock to a flooding hugeness.
I could feel my breath becoming ragged and short, my cock jerking and stiffening even larger. I could feel the sensation of hot white cum spewing now out of the wildly jerking head and shooting into her like liquid fire, ricocheting around inside her hotly convulsing vaginal walls like thick burning streams of molten lava. In a cascade of passion we exploded into a mutual sexual haze, convulsing to exhaustion, slowing, and then, sleep. maltepe escort I awoke with my penis still inside Dot, sticky ooze pasted me to her ass and my prick stuck to my thigh as I pulled out of her. Shit, I thought, this is too much slime; I’ll need to clean up. Cold water and a damp cloth is not a welcomed treatment after sex, I do not recommend it.
I received orders reassigning me to another post, on the evening prior to my leaving, Dot made love to me one last time. I often dreamed of her. She was certainly a highlight reel for a lonely soldier, a long way from home. I traveled the world, enjoyed many affairs, and a few that I didn’t enjoy. But I managed to stay married, until I retired. Then Ellen realized that she couldn’t stand me being around on a Regular basis. She left with a guy that was ten years her junior, and still on active duty. It was a marriage of convenience, much as ours had been.
This is what brings me to the girl sleeping on my couch. Upon my retirement and separation, I setup residence just a few miles from where we had lived back in the old trailer park. It’s still there, hasn’t changed much over the years, just older and less appealing. I took up with a guy running a small bar; he ran the bar I ran the entertainment. One evening I was listening to a young girl play her guitar and sing during our open mike night, and began to get those old feelings again. I had slowed down considerably in my retirement, and didn’t pursue women as I once had. But here was a wisp of a girl, barely a hundred pounds, weaving a dream I thought long forgotten. My arousal became uncomfortable, so I went to the men’s room to pound into the toilet. Several strokes later I was sufficiently stimulated to exact a measure of relief.
Returning to the lounge area I watched as the young girl finished her set then joined her friends. I had forgotten about her as the rest of the acts came and went, until closing time. She was standing on the sidewalk as we locked up the bar; it was just after one in the morning. My partner said goodnight and left. I decided to ask if she needed help. “Yea, my ride has stood me up I guess.” I offered her a ride and she readily accepted. We talked nonsense as I drove, much as strangers do. I found out her name, Sarah, she was twenty one and a college student, who loved music. I dropped her off at the dorm, and went home myself.
She showed up the following week at open mike night and instead of sitting with her friends, she plopped down with a big smile and a “Hi again!” She talked about her music and her friends, her favorite color, and her dislike for beer, but she loved merlot wine. By the way she went on I felt I had known her, her whole life. Such is youth; she really didn’t see me as a threatening person. This went on for the rest of the fall semester.
One evening she came in and asked to see me. It wasn’t open mike night and I was in the office trying to cook the books before the tax man called. The bartender recognized her as a regular and ushered her back to see me. What she asked of me was unconventional to say the least. “The school says I have to move out of the dorms over the holidays, and I don’t have a place to stay. Can you put me up?”
I didn’t have any reason to protest. I was a bachelor now. It was only for a few weeks and I had no one to share the holidays with. I agreed to take her in, my enthusiasm was masked by my admonition that she was to have no loud parties or leave her laundry laying around. She laughed at my feeble humor and gave me a big hug, before wheeling on her heel and skipping out the door.
I sat there and smiled thinking of her free uninhibited spirit. I closed and locked the door to the office, pulled a Kleenex from the box, removed my rigid penis from its confinement and found the release I desired. I thought about her as I pulled on my stiff prick. Such a pretty young girl was what old men fantasize about all the time, and here she was moving in…I had to behave myself, I thought.
She moved in with little fanfare, just an overnight bag and the clothes she wore. I offered her the bedroom, she refused saying, “No, I’m not putting you out.” I appreciated it too; my couch is not comfortable at all. For the first few days, I would come in after closing the bar to find her asleep on the couch. I fantasized about her when I masturbated in bed. Often I would catch a glimpse of her slender legs when she went to and from the shower. She was comfortable around me, so comfortable that she would wear only a ‘T’ shirt and panties around the living room while I was home. I appreciated the show, but I was becoming enamored of this young vixen, the old horn-dog in me was making a reappearance.
The open mike night prior to Christmas was slow and Sarah did two sets, instead of one. Coming over to sit with me after her second set she had a puzzled look on her face; she tilted her head and asked me, “Why haven’t you made a pass at me yet? You aren’t…gay are you?” I was unnerved by her brash inquisition and didn’t immediately respond, the vision of her in her ‘T’ shirt and my many auto-sexual manipulations ran through my mind, I felt flush, my throat tightened, and I could feel small beads of sweat break out on my brow. “The women who come in here all notice you, but you don’t seem to notice them, why?” she continued as matter-of-factly as if she was talking about the menu.
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