JackBNimble
06-23-2006, 04:47 PM
Sandra came into my repair shop one day, seeking a part for a kitchen appliance. I didn't have the right one, so I offered to order it, and she agreed. When I'd written the order and rung up her deposit, she stood and chatted for a long while; longer, really, than I had time for, but she was a lot more attractive than the broken machines I had waiting for me, so I listened to her talk. She ran on almost non-stop about a dozen different subjects, and finally, realizing that I wasn't adding much to the conversation, she gathered her keys and purse, apologizing for keeping me tied up.
It always amazes me, the little tidbits of information people let slip in casual conversation, things they probably don't discuss with their spouses. Frustration and anger sometimes bubble up, usually unintentionally, and most always, without realizing just how much of their inner self they're revealing. Most of Sandra's idle talk that day was harmless, but it centered on planning a birthday party for her daughter, just turning 13, and the lack of help and interest from her husband. I got the idea that all was not well in her conjugal life.
Let me say here, Sandra is a very attractive ash-blond, an unusual hair color, and I figured it was from a bottle, though it looked nice, a compliment to her coloring. The hairstyle fit her too, a casual, almost shoulder-length cut with soft, natural waves. She's fairly short, about 5'2" with just enough padding to add curves without being overweight. Nice butt, too, and her chest, although hidden under a loose, furry sweater that day, held a lot of promise. So even though I had no real interest in her problems, she was perfectly welcome to be my eye-candy for awhile. Once, she was gazing out the window as she talked, and I was giving her breasts a more than frank
appraisal, when she turned back and caught my eyes riveted to her boobs, and she blushed a deep scarlet. So did I. I made a mental note to be more circumspect.
When she was ready to leave, I mentioned that I could ship her the part, and save her a trip. She looked at me a long moment, and said, "No, I think I'd rather come back, but thanks anyway!" And she was gone. Curious lady, I thought, and put her out of my mind. Right. Her face and form haunted me far into the night, and my pulse quickened every time I let my imagination wander.
When I phoned her a few days later to tell her the part was in, she gushed, "Great! I really need it, I'll be there this afternoon!"
This time, she was wearing a snug sweat shirt, showing off her breasts in a fine manner, and a skin-tight pair of stretch pants, the kind with the stirrup under the foot to hold them in place. As she approached the door, I took a long look, checking out her form before she could see me letching, and she entered the shop with a smile that could have melted a glacier. Again we made small talk, and when she was ready to go, I walked to the front door with her, and our arms brushed, an innocent touch, but seemingly intimate, at the same time. She turned to look at me, and her chin was quivering slightly. She was very quiet, and we stood there a moment, not moving, and I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. I tentatively reached out my hand, and she slipped
under my arm and leaned against me, her cheek against my chest. Her head was tucked under my chin, and I could smell the light scent of her hair. She was trembling, and I realized she was weeping softly. After a moment, she straightened, pulled a tissue from her purse, wiped her eyes, sniffled a little, and said, "Thank you...for everything." As she turned to go, I said softly, "Sandra!" My use of her first name, which I'd seen on her check, brought her up short. She waited, her back to me, and I continued, "Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot."
Turning slowly, a tiny smile on her lips, she said, "That sounds nice; yes, I'd like that!"
I showed her to my back room, a combination workshop, office, and since my divorce, my living quarters. I have a fold-up cot, an armchair, and a basic kitchen back there. My wife took most of our stuff, and even more of the money, so it wasn't a difficult decision to live here for a while. The landlord, the county, and the fire department all forbid living quarters in a commercial establishment, so I had to keep things simple and easy to disguise, in case of a visit from officialdom. Beyond that, fuck 'em, I pay the rent, and it's the best I can do.
I offered Sandra the chair, and poured coffee. (She takes it black, like I do). I pulled my bench stool close, and we sipped and looked at everything but each other for awhile. Twice, we both started to talk at the same time, and laughed at our own awkwardness. I've never been glib with the ladies, though I make my living dealing with people, so I decided to be up front. "Sandra, I hope I'm not out of line, but I get the feeling we could be very close friends. If i'm wrong, please say so, I like you a lot, and I need all the friends I can get." She'd been nodding her head as I spoke, and now put her cup down, and stood, embracing me gently. She was quivering all over as I enfolded her in my arms, and when I lifted her chin with my fingers, and bent
to kiss her, she resisted, just for a heartbeat, then gave a moan of submission and gave in to my gently probing tongue. It had been a long time since a woman responded like that to anything I did, and it buckled my knees. It took every ounce of self-control I had to resist throwing her on the cot and ravishing her. She may have let me do it, but it wasn't what either of us wanted, and could have ended any chance for a long-term relationship.
We broke away, nearly breathless, but almost at once, our lips sought, found, kissed, nibbled, locked again, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to knee.
Finally, Sandra gasped, "Oh God, enough! That's enough!" But still she clung to me, and began to weep again. I rubbed my palms all across her back, her shoulders, along her rib-cage, and the more I rubbed, the tighter she held me, her face turned away. I heard the subtle change, the hitch in her breathing, felt the increase in her pulse, the tension and awareness of our growing intimacy. I licked lightly under the line of her jaw, and she nearly fainted, her body going limp with desire. I sat her back in the armchair, where she lolled to one side like a rag doll. Kneeling, I removed her sandals
and began massaging her feet and lower legs, staying below the knees, lightly flexing her calf muscles. I heard her sigh, and looking up, saw a dreamy, far-away smile come on her face. Her response to my touch confirmed that she was a sensual, affection-starved woman, craving the quiet intimacy of casual, loving contact. I'd missed this greatly during my failed marriage, as my wife wouldn't be bothered. Gradually now, and more possessively, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I let my hands wander higher, watching her face, challenging, daring her to not respond. Her mouth went a little slack when I nudged her mound with my hand, not really invading, but sort of an accidental caress. I had my hands encircling one thigh, way up there next to heaven, still rubbing and squeezing, and I knew she was putty in my hands, but I still wanted some sign from her that she was ready to be as aggressive as I was. I pressed more firmly against her crotch, my fingers now deep between her legs, and she squirmed and twisted, whining softly, "Oh, oohh, oohhhh!" Her legs parted as if by magic, and she began thrusting her hips at my hand, in rhythm with my caresses. I began to knead and massage her mound more firmly, searching for her happy button. Her entire body shook violently, and she called out to me as she climaxed. I'd never gotten a woman off so easily, and it was awesome to watch her body spasming, hips pumping, her little mewling cries of satisfaction filling my ears. She was suddenly wetter, I could feel the dampness, and the heat was just incredible. The aroma of her womanhood was now evident, and I longed to strip those pants off
and bury my face in her secret garden.
Sandra sagged back in the chair, sobbing, flushed, spent. I sat on the chair arm beside her, and when she'd calmed, I said, "That was the most beautiful experience I've ever had, Sandra. Thank you for sharing it with me!" It was exactly the right thing to say, because she surged up from the chair and hugged me until I thought I'd break in two.
"Thank YOU!" she cried "I've never, ever, felt like....like..."
Go on, baby, say it...you never CAME like that before?"
"Yes! I mean NO!" Oh, shit, I don't know what I mean. It was so wonderful, so
...tender, and ...dreamy; you knew just what I wanted, just where to touch
me! I've never had that much pleasure before!" Then her eyes widened, and she
cried, "But you didn't...I mean, what about....?"
"SHHHH!" I whispered, "There'll be time for that, Sandra...I do have that cot over there, if you're so inclined...."
"Oh, I am, I really am, but it's late, and I have a family to think of. This is all so fast,
I want to come back tomorrow morning, so we can spend some tome together! I
want to know what makes you feel good, is that OK?"
'That'll be great, Hon, I'm really looking forward to it." I replied.
When she scurried out the door after one last sweet kiss, I figured I'd seen the last of her. That's usually the way my luck runs, and I glumly anticipated a cold, lonely bed
that night. I really thought she'd mull it over and decide she shouldn't take the chance. When I locked up that night, I saw the bag on the counter. The bag with the part in it that she'd ordered and paid for. I smiled, knowing she'd come back. And she did.
The next morning, when I returned from the bank, there was a lovely, gift-wrapped lady waiting for me.She was all smiles, flushed with anticipation, wearing a knee-length pleated skirt topped by a light pullover, which clearly displayed her rounded knockers. My heart beat wildly as I unlocked the door and let her pass through.
I knew you'd be back," I said. "You left your part here."
She stared a moment, then blushed. "Oh, the part....I never gave the damn thing a
thought until you mentioned it. I just wanted to be...to be...with you!"
This pleased me greatly, Taking her hand, I drew her into the back room. "Sandra, I need to know how you're going to handle this. You've got a husband and daughter, and I don't want you to get in trouble."
She accepted coffee, and sat down. "I told myself...God, I hardly slept all night....I decided that since my husband is away half the time and ignores us when he's home, that I'm going to have a little excitement while I can. I've been wishing up an opportunity for months, and the other day, I realized what a nice guy you were, a good listener, and decided to follow my heart. I won't ask you for anything you can't give, I promise. Let's just enjoy ourselves and I'll take care of things at home."
She was weeping again as she finished, and standing, smoothed the skirt nervously with her hands, all the time watching me closely. I went to the front and hung my "Closed" sign in the window and doused the front lights. Returning, I walked straight to her, and hugged her tightly, running my hands all over her body. She melted in my arms, sighing, "Yessssss! That feels so good, Baby! Love me hard!" And I did.
I unfastened her skirt and let it fall. Raising her arms over her head, I removed the pullover, and when she started to lower her arms, I stopped her, a brief head-shake
punctuating my unspoken command. She stood there, a puzzled look on her face,
as I circled, appraising, softly caressing, tenderly stroking.....here.....and here!.....
and ....HERE! By the time I let her lower her arms, I'd removed her front hook bra and brought her to a quivering, panting, up on tip-toes stance, using her beautiful nipples as come-alongs, their rock-hard nubs pointing at me, begging to be loved. I stepped back, watching her breasts return to their natural shape, shucked my trousers and briefs off, dropped my shirt, and sat back in the chair. I watched transfixd as she posed for me, cupping her breasts with her hands, thumbing the nipples, her tongue licking her lips. Her hands strayed lower, and she eased the slip past her hips and let it
fall. Her panties were lacy and skimpy, hugging her soft curves like a second skin. I asked her to remove them slowly, like she was entertaining a group of men at a private party.
"AHHH, GOD!" she moaned....and did as I asked, toying with the waistband, a sexy grin on her face. She slowly lowered the panties down, down, over her mound. I nearly shot my wad at the sight of her furry pussy! The same ash-blond shade as the hair on her head! Her hands were still moving, following the contours of her tummy, darting into the dewy crevice, teasing us both.
"Do you...color...your snatch?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
A shy little head-shake, a blush, a smile. "No," she whispered, "It's natural, like the rest of me....and I'm so proud you like it!"
"I love it!" I said, holding out my arms. "For God's sake, lose those panties and come sit on my lap!" And she did.
She snuggled tightly, her legs curled under her, and at last I was able to caress and fondle her charms, letting my hands roam freely over her breasts and thighs. Her grey-blond bush kept drawing my attention, and I marveled at the silky texture, soft as eiderdown. I tugged gently at the tendrils of fur, petting her like a kitten, and she giggled girlishly, enraptured by my fascination with this oh, so feminine treasure. I asked her if she'd ever shaved her pussy, and she blushed at my use of the word, shaking her head no.
"Don't ever, please," I begged her, "It's so lovely, so different!"
"I...Uh!...I won't!...OH!" she gasped, as my fingers made her hips lurch.
Then there were her little 'OOOH's' of surprise when I bit lightly on her nipples, her sharp intake of breath when my finger probed deeper into the damp of her labia, her cry of delight as I teased her plump, pink clioris out into the open, throbbing, shining wet, begging to be sucked and licked. All the while I was pleasuring her with my hands and lips, she was confidently stroking my engorged cock, bringing it to a pulsing, twitching near-finish, then relaxing her grip, toying, smearing my leakage all over. Finally, I could stand no more, and whispered gently, "Sandra, how do you want it? I want to make you the happiest woman alive....right now!....and I want you to tell me how you want my cock! Talk to me Baby, tell me what you like....."
"The cot! On the cot!" she gasped, between kisses. "I want to....lay back....and open my legs for you! I want to feel....this thing....sliding deep into my....into my...pussy! I want to wrap myself around it, never stop humping under you! Take it, Baby, take it NOW!"
As I stood up, she slued around and wrapped her legs around my hips, hanging from my neck with both arns. Her eyes were deep, dark bottomless pools of lust, as I carried her the few steps to my bed. I laid her gently there, never breaking contact, my rampant dick nudging her opening, and she did as she'd promised, pulling her legs back until her pussy spread wide, her gash grinning wetly at me, her labia gaping open. Without warning, I bent and licked from her rectum to the top of her slit,
fastening on that little button and suctioning strongly, while she shrieked in an agony of need, crying, "FUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKMEEEE!!!!" And I did.
I plunged into her seething pudding with a vengeance, hitting bottom firmly, holding it
there while she groaned and twisted, trying to stimulate some action. I felt her frustration level reaching a peak, and suddenly unleashed a rapid-fire flurry of strokes, driving her right off the edge of sanity. She let out a shrill wail, never varying in volume or pitch, as she climaxed under me, and it was the soulful screeching that brought me off as much as her eager, frenzied fucking movements. My gusher came in, filling her box, and when the first blast hit her tunnel, it served to intensify her efforts, and she came again, leaping and heaving her buttocks up to meet my driving, pounding thrusts. We literally exhausted ourselvrs in one frantic fucking, and I knew
it would be a long time until I could raise a decent boner again, but I didn't mind. My little hussy continued to roll and pivot her hips, milking every last, sweet drop of my come out of the tap. The smile on her beautiful face told me she'd gotten all the satisfaction a woman could use, and I wondered just how long it had been for her.
"Sandra...." I panted, :Just how long has it been ...."
She threw her head back, laughing heartily. "Never! I've never....come! There, I've said it,are you happy? I've never, ever, COME like that in my entire life. Talk about a perfect fit! You're too good for me, Babe!"
I laid down carefully beside her, cupping her breasts, then her pussy, mindful of out narrow perch. It wouldn't do to fall off and bust my ass, but on the other hand, she couldn't elude my fondling, either!
Sandra spent the rest of that day with me, and since I had work to do, and the store to keep open, she was content to stay in the back room, lounging shamelessly naked in my chair. Every time I came near, she watched me closely, occasionally trading sweet kisses or a naughty caress. Once, while a customer waited out front, I came in the back to find a part, and she was waiting, grinning, her legs hooked over the arms of the chair, diddling herself, trying to distract me. I blanched a little, as I've had customers follow me uninvited into the back, like it's open fucking house or something, but we were lucky this time. When the woman left, I came back and helped Sandra finish what she'd started, digitally speaking. I never felt so low in my life as I did that day when she at last, dressed and went home.
Sandra and I are still lovers. It's been over six months, and her marriage continues to
slide further into unhappiness. When her daughter is a little older, she plans to get a divorce and we'll see about a more permanenet arrangement. For now, I'm happy as a clam, and she continues to grow, as a lover, a close friend, and as a woman. There is nothing she won't try, and her inhibitions and shyness have all but evaporated. Once a week or so, she drops by my store, and in no uncertain terms, lets me know she wants her needs taken care of. And I do.
It always amazes me, the little tidbits of information people let slip in casual conversation, things they probably don't discuss with their spouses. Frustration and anger sometimes bubble up, usually unintentionally, and most always, without realizing just how much of their inner self they're revealing. Most of Sandra's idle talk that day was harmless, but it centered on planning a birthday party for her daughter, just turning 13, and the lack of help and interest from her husband. I got the idea that all was not well in her conjugal life.
Let me say here, Sandra is a very attractive ash-blond, an unusual hair color, and I figured it was from a bottle, though it looked nice, a compliment to her coloring. The hairstyle fit her too, a casual, almost shoulder-length cut with soft, natural waves. She's fairly short, about 5'2" with just enough padding to add curves without being overweight. Nice butt, too, and her chest, although hidden under a loose, furry sweater that day, held a lot of promise. So even though I had no real interest in her problems, she was perfectly welcome to be my eye-candy for awhile. Once, she was gazing out the window as she talked, and I was giving her breasts a more than frank
appraisal, when she turned back and caught my eyes riveted to her boobs, and she blushed a deep scarlet. So did I. I made a mental note to be more circumspect.
When she was ready to leave, I mentioned that I could ship her the part, and save her a trip. She looked at me a long moment, and said, "No, I think I'd rather come back, but thanks anyway!" And she was gone. Curious lady, I thought, and put her out of my mind. Right. Her face and form haunted me far into the night, and my pulse quickened every time I let my imagination wander.
When I phoned her a few days later to tell her the part was in, she gushed, "Great! I really need it, I'll be there this afternoon!"
This time, she was wearing a snug sweat shirt, showing off her breasts in a fine manner, and a skin-tight pair of stretch pants, the kind with the stirrup under the foot to hold them in place. As she approached the door, I took a long look, checking out her form before she could see me letching, and she entered the shop with a smile that could have melted a glacier. Again we made small talk, and when she was ready to go, I walked to the front door with her, and our arms brushed, an innocent touch, but seemingly intimate, at the same time. She turned to look at me, and her chin was quivering slightly. She was very quiet, and we stood there a moment, not moving, and I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. I tentatively reached out my hand, and she slipped
under my arm and leaned against me, her cheek against my chest. Her head was tucked under my chin, and I could smell the light scent of her hair. She was trembling, and I realized she was weeping softly. After a moment, she straightened, pulled a tissue from her purse, wiped her eyes, sniffled a little, and said, "Thank you...for everything." As she turned to go, I said softly, "Sandra!" My use of her first name, which I'd seen on her check, brought her up short. She waited, her back to me, and I continued, "Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot."
Turning slowly, a tiny smile on her lips, she said, "That sounds nice; yes, I'd like that!"
I showed her to my back room, a combination workshop, office, and since my divorce, my living quarters. I have a fold-up cot, an armchair, and a basic kitchen back there. My wife took most of our stuff, and even more of the money, so it wasn't a difficult decision to live here for a while. The landlord, the county, and the fire department all forbid living quarters in a commercial establishment, so I had to keep things simple and easy to disguise, in case of a visit from officialdom. Beyond that, fuck 'em, I pay the rent, and it's the best I can do.
I offered Sandra the chair, and poured coffee. (She takes it black, like I do). I pulled my bench stool close, and we sipped and looked at everything but each other for awhile. Twice, we both started to talk at the same time, and laughed at our own awkwardness. I've never been glib with the ladies, though I make my living dealing with people, so I decided to be up front. "Sandra, I hope I'm not out of line, but I get the feeling we could be very close friends. If i'm wrong, please say so, I like you a lot, and I need all the friends I can get." She'd been nodding her head as I spoke, and now put her cup down, and stood, embracing me gently. She was quivering all over as I enfolded her in my arms, and when I lifted her chin with my fingers, and bent
to kiss her, she resisted, just for a heartbeat, then gave a moan of submission and gave in to my gently probing tongue. It had been a long time since a woman responded like that to anything I did, and it buckled my knees. It took every ounce of self-control I had to resist throwing her on the cot and ravishing her. She may have let me do it, but it wasn't what either of us wanted, and could have ended any chance for a long-term relationship.
We broke away, nearly breathless, but almost at once, our lips sought, found, kissed, nibbled, locked again, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to knee.
Finally, Sandra gasped, "Oh God, enough! That's enough!" But still she clung to me, and began to weep again. I rubbed my palms all across her back, her shoulders, along her rib-cage, and the more I rubbed, the tighter she held me, her face turned away. I heard the subtle change, the hitch in her breathing, felt the increase in her pulse, the tension and awareness of our growing intimacy. I licked lightly under the line of her jaw, and she nearly fainted, her body going limp with desire. I sat her back in the armchair, where she lolled to one side like a rag doll. Kneeling, I removed her sandals
and began massaging her feet and lower legs, staying below the knees, lightly flexing her calf muscles. I heard her sigh, and looking up, saw a dreamy, far-away smile come on her face. Her response to my touch confirmed that she was a sensual, affection-starved woman, craving the quiet intimacy of casual, loving contact. I'd missed this greatly during my failed marriage, as my wife wouldn't be bothered. Gradually now, and more possessively, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I let my hands wander higher, watching her face, challenging, daring her to not respond. Her mouth went a little slack when I nudged her mound with my hand, not really invading, but sort of an accidental caress. I had my hands encircling one thigh, way up there next to heaven, still rubbing and squeezing, and I knew she was putty in my hands, but I still wanted some sign from her that she was ready to be as aggressive as I was. I pressed more firmly against her crotch, my fingers now deep between her legs, and she squirmed and twisted, whining softly, "Oh, oohh, oohhhh!" Her legs parted as if by magic, and she began thrusting her hips at my hand, in rhythm with my caresses. I began to knead and massage her mound more firmly, searching for her happy button. Her entire body shook violently, and she called out to me as she climaxed. I'd never gotten a woman off so easily, and it was awesome to watch her body spasming, hips pumping, her little mewling cries of satisfaction filling my ears. She was suddenly wetter, I could feel the dampness, and the heat was just incredible. The aroma of her womanhood was now evident, and I longed to strip those pants off
and bury my face in her secret garden.
Sandra sagged back in the chair, sobbing, flushed, spent. I sat on the chair arm beside her, and when she'd calmed, I said, "That was the most beautiful experience I've ever had, Sandra. Thank you for sharing it with me!" It was exactly the right thing to say, because she surged up from the chair and hugged me until I thought I'd break in two.
"Thank YOU!" she cried "I've never, ever, felt like....like..."
Go on, baby, say it...you never CAME like that before?"
"Yes! I mean NO!" Oh, shit, I don't know what I mean. It was so wonderful, so
...tender, and ...dreamy; you knew just what I wanted, just where to touch
me! I've never had that much pleasure before!" Then her eyes widened, and she
cried, "But you didn't...I mean, what about....?"
"SHHHH!" I whispered, "There'll be time for that, Sandra...I do have that cot over there, if you're so inclined...."
"Oh, I am, I really am, but it's late, and I have a family to think of. This is all so fast,
I want to come back tomorrow morning, so we can spend some tome together! I
want to know what makes you feel good, is that OK?"
'That'll be great, Hon, I'm really looking forward to it." I replied.
When she scurried out the door after one last sweet kiss, I figured I'd seen the last of her. That's usually the way my luck runs, and I glumly anticipated a cold, lonely bed
that night. I really thought she'd mull it over and decide she shouldn't take the chance. When I locked up that night, I saw the bag on the counter. The bag with the part in it that she'd ordered and paid for. I smiled, knowing she'd come back. And she did.
The next morning, when I returned from the bank, there was a lovely, gift-wrapped lady waiting for me.She was all smiles, flushed with anticipation, wearing a knee-length pleated skirt topped by a light pullover, which clearly displayed her rounded knockers. My heart beat wildly as I unlocked the door and let her pass through.
I knew you'd be back," I said. "You left your part here."
She stared a moment, then blushed. "Oh, the part....I never gave the damn thing a
thought until you mentioned it. I just wanted to be...to be...with you!"
This pleased me greatly, Taking her hand, I drew her into the back room. "Sandra, I need to know how you're going to handle this. You've got a husband and daughter, and I don't want you to get in trouble."
She accepted coffee, and sat down. "I told myself...God, I hardly slept all night....I decided that since my husband is away half the time and ignores us when he's home, that I'm going to have a little excitement while I can. I've been wishing up an opportunity for months, and the other day, I realized what a nice guy you were, a good listener, and decided to follow my heart. I won't ask you for anything you can't give, I promise. Let's just enjoy ourselves and I'll take care of things at home."
She was weeping again as she finished, and standing, smoothed the skirt nervously with her hands, all the time watching me closely. I went to the front and hung my "Closed" sign in the window and doused the front lights. Returning, I walked straight to her, and hugged her tightly, running my hands all over her body. She melted in my arms, sighing, "Yessssss! That feels so good, Baby! Love me hard!" And I did.
I unfastened her skirt and let it fall. Raising her arms over her head, I removed the pullover, and when she started to lower her arms, I stopped her, a brief head-shake
punctuating my unspoken command. She stood there, a puzzled look on her face,
as I circled, appraising, softly caressing, tenderly stroking.....here.....and here!.....
and ....HERE! By the time I let her lower her arms, I'd removed her front hook bra and brought her to a quivering, panting, up on tip-toes stance, using her beautiful nipples as come-alongs, their rock-hard nubs pointing at me, begging to be loved. I stepped back, watching her breasts return to their natural shape, shucked my trousers and briefs off, dropped my shirt, and sat back in the chair. I watched transfixd as she posed for me, cupping her breasts with her hands, thumbing the nipples, her tongue licking her lips. Her hands strayed lower, and she eased the slip past her hips and let it
fall. Her panties were lacy and skimpy, hugging her soft curves like a second skin. I asked her to remove them slowly, like she was entertaining a group of men at a private party.
"AHHH, GOD!" she moaned....and did as I asked, toying with the waistband, a sexy grin on her face. She slowly lowered the panties down, down, over her mound. I nearly shot my wad at the sight of her furry pussy! The same ash-blond shade as the hair on her head! Her hands were still moving, following the contours of her tummy, darting into the dewy crevice, teasing us both.
"Do you...color...your snatch?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
A shy little head-shake, a blush, a smile. "No," she whispered, "It's natural, like the rest of me....and I'm so proud you like it!"
"I love it!" I said, holding out my arms. "For God's sake, lose those panties and come sit on my lap!" And she did.
She snuggled tightly, her legs curled under her, and at last I was able to caress and fondle her charms, letting my hands roam freely over her breasts and thighs. Her grey-blond bush kept drawing my attention, and I marveled at the silky texture, soft as eiderdown. I tugged gently at the tendrils of fur, petting her like a kitten, and she giggled girlishly, enraptured by my fascination with this oh, so feminine treasure. I asked her if she'd ever shaved her pussy, and she blushed at my use of the word, shaking her head no.
"Don't ever, please," I begged her, "It's so lovely, so different!"
"I...Uh!...I won't!...OH!" she gasped, as my fingers made her hips lurch.
Then there were her little 'OOOH's' of surprise when I bit lightly on her nipples, her sharp intake of breath when my finger probed deeper into the damp of her labia, her cry of delight as I teased her plump, pink clioris out into the open, throbbing, shining wet, begging to be sucked and licked. All the while I was pleasuring her with my hands and lips, she was confidently stroking my engorged cock, bringing it to a pulsing, twitching near-finish, then relaxing her grip, toying, smearing my leakage all over. Finally, I could stand no more, and whispered gently, "Sandra, how do you want it? I want to make you the happiest woman alive....right now!....and I want you to tell me how you want my cock! Talk to me Baby, tell me what you like....."
"The cot! On the cot!" she gasped, between kisses. "I want to....lay back....and open my legs for you! I want to feel....this thing....sliding deep into my....into my...pussy! I want to wrap myself around it, never stop humping under you! Take it, Baby, take it NOW!"
As I stood up, she slued around and wrapped her legs around my hips, hanging from my neck with both arns. Her eyes were deep, dark bottomless pools of lust, as I carried her the few steps to my bed. I laid her gently there, never breaking contact, my rampant dick nudging her opening, and she did as she'd promised, pulling her legs back until her pussy spread wide, her gash grinning wetly at me, her labia gaping open. Without warning, I bent and licked from her rectum to the top of her slit,
fastening on that little button and suctioning strongly, while she shrieked in an agony of need, crying, "FUCKMEFUCKMEFUCKMEEEE!!!!" And I did.
I plunged into her seething pudding with a vengeance, hitting bottom firmly, holding it
there while she groaned and twisted, trying to stimulate some action. I felt her frustration level reaching a peak, and suddenly unleashed a rapid-fire flurry of strokes, driving her right off the edge of sanity. She let out a shrill wail, never varying in volume or pitch, as she climaxed under me, and it was the soulful screeching that brought me off as much as her eager, frenzied fucking movements. My gusher came in, filling her box, and when the first blast hit her tunnel, it served to intensify her efforts, and she came again, leaping and heaving her buttocks up to meet my driving, pounding thrusts. We literally exhausted ourselvrs in one frantic fucking, and I knew
it would be a long time until I could raise a decent boner again, but I didn't mind. My little hussy continued to roll and pivot her hips, milking every last, sweet drop of my come out of the tap. The smile on her beautiful face told me she'd gotten all the satisfaction a woman could use, and I wondered just how long it had been for her.
"Sandra...." I panted, :Just how long has it been ...."
She threw her head back, laughing heartily. "Never! I've never....come! There, I've said it,are you happy? I've never, ever, COME like that in my entire life. Talk about a perfect fit! You're too good for me, Babe!"
I laid down carefully beside her, cupping her breasts, then her pussy, mindful of out narrow perch. It wouldn't do to fall off and bust my ass, but on the other hand, she couldn't elude my fondling, either!
Sandra spent the rest of that day with me, and since I had work to do, and the store to keep open, she was content to stay in the back room, lounging shamelessly naked in my chair. Every time I came near, she watched me closely, occasionally trading sweet kisses or a naughty caress. Once, while a customer waited out front, I came in the back to find a part, and she was waiting, grinning, her legs hooked over the arms of the chair, diddling herself, trying to distract me. I blanched a little, as I've had customers follow me uninvited into the back, like it's open fucking house or something, but we were lucky this time. When the woman left, I came back and helped Sandra finish what she'd started, digitally speaking. I never felt so low in my life as I did that day when she at last, dressed and went home.
Sandra and I are still lovers. It's been over six months, and her marriage continues to
slide further into unhappiness. When her daughter is a little older, she plans to get a divorce and we'll see about a more permanenet arrangement. For now, I'm happy as a clam, and she continues to grow, as a lover, a close friend, and as a woman. There is nothing she won't try, and her inhibitions and shyness have all but evaporated. Once a week or so, she drops by my store, and in no uncertain terms, lets me know she wants her needs taken care of. And I do.