My penis tingled as I turned to face her. She had lowered Piper slightly and her pert nipples sat in its soft fur.
“Do you think I could be in one of those magazines?” she asked directly, turning her wide hips in a mock pose.
“Yes,” I gulped, “Definitely.”
“Really?” she asked, tossing the cat to the floor before striking another pose.
She proceeded to go through a series of semi-serious poses, holding each for a few seconds, before moving on to the next. Pulling her robe from her shoulders, she continued.
Her breasts, rounder and fuller than I would have expected, danced with each crisp movement. My jaw dropped and I stared openly.
“But, I guess,” she said, stopping suddenly, “For those magazines I’d probably have to pose like this.”
She returned to posing, but more provocatively; cupping her breasts and pouting her lips. She turned around and presented her wide ass.
“What do you do with those magazines?” she asked over her bare shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I lied, adjusting my pants.
“Do you,” she resumed posing, shaking and dancing in front of me. “Masturbate with them?”
I stood dumbly staring. Her breasts looked amazing as she shook.
“Show me,” she said, dropping her robe to the floor before falling heavily onto her couch. “Pretend I’m in your magazine. Show me.”
Her poses became more intense as she rubbed herself between her thighs and lifted her legs.
“Show me,” she said again.
I may be shy, but I’m not totally stupid. I undid my pants and pulled them down. My dick was fighting to get out of my briefs and I pulled them off quickly. My erection stood firm and throbbing. Mrs. Cotter smiled as I took it in my hand.
I started slowly, a little uneasy, but my pace soon quickened as she began posing again. The poses were becoming increasingly graphic – she was spreading her legs wide or licking her own tits – and I was about to erupt.
“Do you ejaculate on the women in the magazines?” she asked, leaning closer.
“Sometimes,” I admitted, stroking myself vigorously.
“Then do it on me,” she said, positioning herself in front of my swollen cock. “Ejaculate on me.”
I exploded with a shudder and a powerful line of spunk splashed onto her bare chest. The second burst landed on her neck and shoulder, the third across her chin. I continued pumping myself until the spasms stopped. I was panting, with my dick still in my hand, when Mrs. Cotter leaned in and kissed me.
Slowly at first, then with more passion, we kissed. Her naked body was pressing into me and my hands cupped her wonderful breasts, squeezing them in disbelief. My cum was warm and sticky on her tits and her nipples were stiff and very sensitive.
She pushed me back onto the couch and straddled my revived cock; her tits hung inches from my face.
“Did your magazines ever do this?” she whispered before lowering herself slowly toward my straining manhood. I felt her wet warmth as it brushed against me. I shifted, trying to enter her crease as she rocked back and forth teasingly.
Finally she slowed long enough for my mushroomed head to press into her slick hole. My dream had come true; I was fucking an older woman – a much older woman. I thrust in deeply, up and down, trying to match her rhythm. My hands palmed her dangling breasts and I watched how her skin wrinkled and creased as I mashed them together.
Her pace increased and I struggled to keep up. Her aged pussy was pulling at me tightly and I felt her start to shake. Her orgasm came in waves and she buried her face into my neck, moaning softly.
I was right behind her, shooting my load deep into her furry box. She stayed on top of me and I held her tight, gently rubbing and fondling her. Shortly, my spent penis slid out of her wet gash and we slowly climbed to our feet.
We stood staring at each other for a moment.
Things felt awkward and I dressed quickly. Mrs. Cotter was saying something about having to get to the bank before it closed and I made a hasty retreat back to my apartment.
I dropped contentedly, but a bit confused, into my favorite chair. It had been worth the wait …
Mrs. Cotter managed to avoid me for about a week, but we finally ran into each other on the stairs. She apologized and told me she had been on some prescription medicine that morning and it had her, “all loosey-goosey.” She told me she really wasn’t that kind of woman and hoped I would forgive her. I had no idea what to say, so I forgave her for making my dream come true.
The End
Don’t You Like It
I had been seeing the same call girl for about a year, and I knew I was going to miss her when she left for Vegas. But before she went, she introduced me to one of her friends who was also in the business. The friend used the name Honey, and it definitely fits her: long, straight honey blonde hair on top, no hair at all below, a long slender body that wouldn’t quit, and enough honey in her honey pot to satisfy a thousand bears like me. What’s more, she has a set of D-cups that are all-natural, a rare thing with hookers nowadays, and the way they moved under a silk blouse was something to see.
The first two times I saw Honey, we were just getting acquainted. The first time she gave me a long, slow blow job, and let me fuck her between her melons, but there was nothing earth-shattering about it. She wasn’t even as good with her mouth as my old call girl was, but sliding between those honeydews (what did I tell you!) more than made up for it. She was worth what I had paid, and I was definitely going to call her again.
My experience on the second visit was quite a bit better. She let me lick her until she came – I could tell, because I stuck a finger in her socket just to check on her, and her cunt was pulsing in a spontaneous rhythm that made me hot. Pretty soon my condom-covered cock was up her and she was clutching me hard until I spewed the condom to overflowing. She was nice enough to say that it was one of the best orgasms she’d ever had. That flattered me, even though I didn’t quite believe it, and I went away feeling my dough was well-spent.
But it was the third time we met that is what this story is all about. That was something else, though just what I don’t yet know. First of all, Honey met me at the door wearing just a coat – she was naked underneath. That was different all by itself. The first two times, she had played with me, stripping while I watched and then making me strip while she watched. This time she just grabbed me, tossed the coat on the floor, and tore my clothes off, pausing only to put on the condom she already had in her hand.
The next thing I knew, she was down on her knees sucking me off. This time there was no question about her expertise, and I knew she had been holding back for whatever reason. My cock was all the way down her throat, her lips were pressed firmly against my pubic hair, and I was blowing my load before I half realized what was going on.
She got me hard again in no time, and then I was in a fresh rubber, fucking her on her living-room rug doggy style. Her cunt artistry was exquisite. She tortured me with her pussy, and every time I felt ready to pop, she clamped down so hard on me I could neither thrust nor come. Then she’d start all over again with a new cycle of outrageous pleasure that pretty soon had me yammering with frustrated lust.
As you can guess, this isn’t exactly normal behavior for a play-to-pay girl. Basically she wants you to get off once or twice, depending on what kind of shape you’re in and what you’ve paid for, and then you’re history and the next guy is ringing her bell. But Honey was obviously enjoying herself with me, and in no hurry at all to see the back of me. In fact, she must have come about five times during that session, and not fake comes either. Believe me, I could tell. It wasn’t easy to keep myself from losing it then, but both she and I were doing our utmost.
After she was finally satisfied, Honey did something special for me. We finally made it to the bedroom, and she told me to sit on the edge of her bed and lean back with my heels up. Then she knelt beside the bed, and I thought she was going down on me again. But no. Her tongue explored all around the base of my prick and then coated my balls with her spit. When that job was complete, her tongue nudged my balls aside and found the pucker of my ass. I gasped in awe as the sensations shot through me, from my asshole to the top of my head and back down to the tip of my cock.
Man, did that feel good. I was lying there with my hands behind my head like some emperor being serviced by a pleasure slave. Her tongue teased me, circling and circling my tight hole, sliding away onto my hairy butt, then straight downward and inward till her tip was sticking in the grip of my sphincter muscle. I tried to go for my cock, but she slapped my hands away and went for it herself, one hand firmly around my root, the other fondling my wet and slippery balls. Her tits were perched atop my thighs, her nipples pressing into them like sharp spikes. And when she humped her pussy against my shin, I could soon feel her coming again.
Now Honey gave me her full attention. Her tongue fucked my asshole faster, deeper, sliding in and out. As she rimmed me, she pulled my prick with one hand and cupped my balls with the other, resting her whole weight on my legs and her knees and toes. Pretty soon her hand was sliding up and down my dripping wet cock and her other hand was pressing on that magic spot between my balls and the asshole she was still so enthusiastically tonguing. Man, I shot off so hard, my come went halfway to the ceiling, like a jism volcano, and then splashed down all over both of us.
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Honey just laughed softly and licked me clean. Then she helped me to my feet and held me as I wobbled to the shower. We washed each other, which got me hard again, and then Honey did something for me that no hooker has ever done. She looked up into my eyes, feeling my cock grinding against her pussy mound, and she kissed me on the lips sweetly and lovingly, her tongue going into my mouth and circling my tongue timidly, as if she was afraid that I would reject her now.
Then she spoke to me in half a whisper. “Would you like to – to fuck me in the ass? Now?” I looked into her eyes, and she was pleading, actually pleading. “No extra charge.”
I couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” she said, still in half a whisper. “Don’t you like it?”
I nodded, unable to speak. I was awed that a hooker would do this for me, seemingly for her pleasure and mine alone.
“Me too”, she said in a tiny little voice. “Oh, me too! Do me. Fuck me up the ass. Please?”
We hit the bed still dripping. This time it was Honey whose legs were in the air over my shoulders, and I who was drilling into a dark hole with my tongue. I wet her thoroughly and then began to give her my finger, which I had first dipped into her honey pot to lube it up for her. Her pussy was dripping wet, not from the shower, and as I transferred that pussy fluid with another finger and then with another, and inserted them side by side into her asshole – well, from the way she was moaning I knew in a few minutes that she was ready.
I pulled all my fingers out, which were shaking with excitement, and I dipped my cock in her pussy for just long enough to get it thoroughly soaked too. Then the head of my dick was out of her cunt and feeling around below, finding and pressing on that lovely asshole, which was now gaping enough to begin the process of letting me in.
“Here it comes, Honey”, I said, or was it “honey”? I wasn’t any too sure. I pushed forward slowly but steadily. Her first ring of muscle was wide open, and I got the head inside with no trouble. Then came the second ring, the one a woman can’t consciously control, but as I pressed against it, I felt it too giving way. Then I was up her, balls deep in her ass, in one smooth easy thrust.
Oh, she was hot and tight and buttery inside, and I felt my cock swelling and growing even bigger and harder than before. The more I fucked her, the more she groaned and panted and clutched me tight with her tunnel of love. She even pulled my face onto her breasts and hugged me to her, and kissed the top of my head as I thrust and groaned above her. Her heels locked around me and pulled me into her with all her strength, making me use all my strength to pull back until I could no longer do so and her legs pulled me right into her ass with a fleshy crash that drove me insane.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she chanted between clenched teeth. “Oh God, fuck me up the ass.” It seemed to me that my cock had grown so long that she’d feel it coming back up her throat at any moment. Finally I got there, and I blasted off into her guts, giving her everything I had, and then I collapsed on her body, still hung up inside her. Then I felt my awareness slipping away, and I was asleep.
When I got up and cleaned up, much later, there was no sign of her. All the money I had given her was in a neat bundle on top of my dresser. I don’t know what this means. I’m almost afraid to pick up the phone and find out. But within a week, my urges were returning to me, and hers was the only number I seemed to be able to even think about calling. I haven’t called her yet. But I will. I almost positively will.
The End
A Hard Woman Is Good To Find
“Excuse me,” said a husky, feminine voice, “Would you mind spotting for me? There’s no one else here.” The voice continued, “I’d like to do a set of heavy bench-presses before I finish my workout, but I haven’t lifted heavy in a while.”
“Sure,” I answered, as I looked up at the young woman. It was very late on a Thursday night. Besides the lone staff member, we were the only two people still left in the gym. I was sitting on a bench, cooling down after a hard workout, and an even harder day at work. I had a lot of things on my mind that day and I had barely even looked at the other people in the gym the entire night. I’m a project manager for a construction company, so I often have to work late to finish construction bids that are due the next morning.
The woman was fairly tall, at about five-feet eight-inches. She was wearing a baggy sweat suit, that almost completely hid her figure, but I could clearly see she had the broad shoulders of a seasoned weightlifter. She was also wearing a pair of worn leather, fingerless lifting gloves; another sign that she was no novice to pumping iron.
She had a cute, almost pixy face, with clear, wide-set, gray-blue eyes and very short, crop-cut, dark-brown, almost black hair. I judged her, age-wise, to be to be somewhere in her late twenties. I keep using the term “woman” instead of “girl” to describe her, because in spite of her age, she was clearly not a little girly-girl. Given the woman’s deep, dark tan, I immediately suspected that she was a bodybuilder.
But, the woman didn’t have that emaciated, dried-out look, like a lot of female bodybuilders, so I wasn’t completely sure if she was one. On top of that, a lot of female bodybuilders favor the brassy, longhaired, bleach-blonde bombshell look. Or, maybe, those women are all trying to look like California surfer girls? Anyway, I’m not really sure why so many female bodybuilders go the longhaired, bleach-blonde route, but if this young woman was a bodybuilder, she definitely wasn’t going along with the stereotype of the sport.
I followed the woman over to her bench and was surprised to see that she was using an Olympic bar and some very heavy weights. Very few women can do that. As I took my place behind her, as her spotter, she quickly knocked out a high-repetition set of heavy bench-presses. “Wow!” I thought to myself, this girl is really strong!"
“I’m impressed,” I said, when she finished, “There aren’t many women that can handle that much weight so easily.” I continued, “Are you a bodybuilder?” I thought that it would be more diplomatic to ask her if she was a bodybuilder. The woman might have been insulted if I had, instead, asked her if she was a powerlifter! I finished, “From your tan, I’m guessing that you’re a bodybuilder, although you’re certainly strong enough to be a powerlifter.”
Her cute face broke into a big smile, so I was pleased to see that my compliment, and my attempt at diplomacy, had been successful. She chuckled, “Good guess! I used to be a hardcore bodybuilder.” She finished, as she looked at my own broad shoulders, thick chest, and eighteen-inch arms, “And, from the looks of it, I’d say that you’re a bodybuilder, too.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I am, but I’m not hardcore anymore, either.”
“I’m Christine, by the way,” she said, as she offered me her hand, “So, did you ever compete?”
“I’m Walt,” I answered, as I took her strong hand, “I competed a few times, years ago, but I’m not really into all of that strict contest dieting. I like to eat way too much!”
“I can relate to that!” Christine answered with a delightful laugh, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Walt. Thanks for the spot!” as she turned and headed for the women’s locker room.
I ran into Christine, again at the gym, the following week. She waved to me when she came in and later came over to ask me if I would spot for her again. She was wearing those same baggy sweats, so other than seeing her broad shoulders again, I still had no idea what kind of a figure she had. But, I thought, “We seem to be keeping similar hours. Maybe she’d make a good workout buddy.”
On that day, it was earlier in the evening. After she finished her heavy set of bench presses, I was really curious to learn more about her, so I said, “It’s still fairly early, Christine. Would you like to go get a cup of coffee, or something, with me?” I finished with a laugh, “After I take a shower and change into my street clothes, of course!”
Christine looked at me carefully and hesitated. Finally, she said, “I’d like to, Walt, but I really have to get going. I have to get up very early tomorrow morning. Will you give me a rain check on that coffee?”
“Sure, Christine,” I answered, “We’ll go out for coffee some other time.”
Thanks, Walt!" she said with a smile, “I’m sure that I’ll see you in here again, real soon. Well, I’ve got to get going now. Good night!”
“Good night, Christine!” I said, as she walked away. At that point, I shrugged my shoulders and headed for the men’s locker room. I really didn’t expect anything to come out of our little rain check agreement.
The following Wednesday, however, I did see Christine again at the gym, as soon as I walked in. To my surprise, she came right over to me and said, “Hi, Walt! I just got here a few minutes ago, myself. Can I cash in my rain check for that coffee, this evening?”
“That would be great, Christine!” I answered, “I plan on working out for about an hour and a half. How about you?”
“About the same,” she replied.
“Well then, we can go for coffee after we’re finished,” I said.
Again, Christine was wearing those baggy sweats that almost completely hid her figure. We agreed to meet at the front desk, after we had finished our workouts, showered, and changed into our street clothes. I, of course, was finished first, and was waiting for her to come out of the women’s locker room.
When Christine walked up to me, at last, she was wearing a plain, white, long-sleeved, cotton blouse and blue jeans. In her street clothes, I could now see that, besides her broad shoulders, Christine had the classic, vee-shaped torso of a real bodybuilder. She had a wide chest, average, maybe B-cup size breasts, a narrow waist, and very thick thighs. I still couldn’t clearly see Christine’s arms, in that long-sleeved blouse, but they appeared to be fairly muscular.
“Nice,” I thought to myself, “she doesn’t have one of those ‘monster porn star boobjobs’, like a lot of female bodybuilders are getting these days.”
It’s an unfortunate fact, but one of the side effects of being a successful, competitive, female bodybuilder is that their breasts start to disappear as the put on muscle. It’s all because the women have to keep their percentage of body fat very low in order to show off their muscles to their full advantage. But, when the women’s percentage of body fat goes way down, so does the size of their breasts.
Christine smiled, somewhat shyly, as she saw me looking her over. She said, “O.K., Walt, I’m ready! Where shall we go?”
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We agreed on a place, and she followed me, in her car, to a nearby coffee shop. We also decided to treat ourselves to desert, as well as coffee, while we talked. Christine told me she had just moved into the area and that she was a Nutritionist at one of the local hospitals. Nutrition goes hand-in-hand with bodybuilding, so Christine’s career and hobby were in harmony.
I told Christine a little bit about myself and, before we had finished our deserts, I asked the vivacious young woman to go out with me on a real date. On Saturday night, I was going to take her out for dinner and a movie.
Our first Saturday night date was fairly conventional. I took Christine out to a restaurant that, I knew, served some huge portions of prime rib. She was impressed with my choice of restaurants and we both wasted little time in wolfing down our meals. Christine was pleased that she didn’t have to hide her appetite from me. For those of you that don’t know, bodybuilders consume a lot of calories on an everyday basis. Therefore, some women bodybuilders tend to be self-conscious about eating in public.
Christine had dressed very conservatively for our date, wearing a jacket over her blouse and a knee-length skirt. So, I didn’t get a really good look at her bodybuilder’s physique that night, other than seeing that she had very strong looking, muscular calves.
We talked a lot, after we had eaten, and I had a lot of fun on that date with Christine. So, when I took her home, I asked her if she wanted to go into New York City with me, the following Saturday afternoon, to see a special, traveling art exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Christine readily agreed to go with me, but, almost immediately, started worrying about what she should wear.
I laughed and told her, “Well, I think that we should both wear black-on-black, Christine. If we’re going to go to a fancy art exhibit, we should, probably, dress to impress the artsy crowd that will be there.”
Christine looked at me closely, for a few seconds, then she smiled and said, “All right, Walt! That sounds like fun!” as she kissed me on the cheek. She finished, “It’s a date then! I’ll see you next Saturday!” as she closed the door to her apartment.
I ran into Christine once, at the gym, during the following week. Again, we went out for coffee and desert after our workouts. Over coffee, she told me that she was putting together a special black-on-black outfit for our Saturday afternoon date, just to wow the artsy crowd at the museum, of course.
When I picked Christine up on Saturday for our date to the museum, I was dressed as we had agreed. I wore a black blazer over a black, long-sleeved, turtleneck shirt, along with black slacks, and, of course, black shoes and socks.
Christine had also chosen to wear a black blazer over a black turtleneck, along with a very short, black-leather mini-skirt, and opaque black tights. Black, stiletto, high-heeled shoes, and dark sunglasses completed her stunning outfit.
The guys that think that female bodybuilders look too much like men just don’t appreciate the legs and magnificent asses on these women. In my humble opinion, there are few things more feminine, and more sexy, than a female bodybuilder’s firm, shapely ass. Christine was certainly showing her very firm, shapely ass and legs to their full advantage in her short, black-leather mini-skirt that day!
She had also spent some time applying her makeup. When she took off her sunglasses, I could see that Christine had gone the full route; mascara, dark eyeliner, dark-smoky eye shadow, rouge blush, and dark, sexy lip gloss. I had never seen her wear any noticeable makeup, before that day. A pair of diamond stud earrings, with no other jewelry, completed her stunning look.
“Wow!” was all that I could say at first, when I saw her standing at the door.
“You like?” she asked, obviously very pleased with my reaction to her outfit.
“Oh, yeah!” I answered, “I like!” I continued, “You look absolutely fantastic, Christine!”
At the same time, I was thinking to myself, “Oh god! I want those muscular thighs wrapped around my waist right now!”
“Why, thank you, Walter!” Christine said, as she walked up to me and kissed me demurely on the cheek.
When she moved closer to me, I could smell the musky fragrance of her perfume. I was about to take her in my arms and kiss her on the mouth when she suddenly stepped away.
“Oh!” Christine cried in concern, “Maybe I should put on some other shoes!”
“Why?” I asked, perplexed by her sudden distress.
“Don’t you think that these shoes make me look too tall?” she asked anxiously.
“No, Christine!” I laughed, “You look fantastic in those shoes!” I continued, “Now, let’s get going, if you’re ready!” I was truly amused by her concern over her shoes. After all, my ego could certainly handle the fact that my new girlfriend appeared to be about two inches taller than I, when she wore those incredibly sexy, four-inch, stiletto, high-heeled shoes!
It’s about an hour and a half drive from our town to New York City. So, Christine and I had plenty of time to talk on our way to the museum. She told me that she didn’t go with me for coffee, when I had first asked her, because she needed some time to “check me out”. She went on to tell me that she has run into some very strange people over the years, because of her bodybuilder’s physique. She finished by saying that all of the people that she had talked to, at the gym, thought that I was a fairly normal person.
“Only fairly normal?” I asked in amusement.
“Yes,” she answered with a smile, “Only fairly normal.” Christine continued, “They said that you’re usually pretty quite and that you don’t hit on the women in the gym, like a lot of the guys.”
“Oh,” I said in surprise, “you thought that I was hitting on you, when I first asked you to go for coffee with me?” I continued, “Actually, at the time, I just wanted to learn some more about you.”
“I wasn’t really sure what your intentions were,” she answered, “But, like I’ve already told you, Walt, I’ve met some very strange people over the years.”
As we entered the museum, from the parking garage, we made quite an impression. A lot of people turned to look at us as we walked by. In truth, they were looking more at Christine than they were at me, as she was an absolutely stunning sight. “My god!” I thought, “Look at those legs of hers!”
It was my turn to be surprised when we reached the coat-check area. As I helped Christine take off her jacket, I saw that her black turtleneck was actually a sleeveless shell. From the way her hard, erect nipples poked out against the fabric, it was obvious that she was braless underneath her tight top. But, I thought in amusement, “Why should a woman with firm, hard breasts like her have to wear a bra, anyway?” Yes, Christine was definitely showing off her figure that afternoon!
“Still,” I thought to myself, “a little showing off is to be expected from a girl who’s used to prancing around on stage, in front of hundreds of people, wearing just a skimpy bodybuilder’s posing bikini.”
That afternoon, Christine looked like an exotic, almost fetish version of a Parisian fashion model. She was way too muscular to be mistaken for your typical, anorexic-looking model, but she looked very chic and very hot to me. With her erect nipples poking out against the tight fabric of her top and that very short, black-leather mini-skirt, there was no mistaking that there was a real woman under her clothing. As I continued to stare at her, I suddenly became very aware of the erection poking out against my trousers.
Recovering from my surprise, I held her jacket in front of me, to hid my erection, and said, “My god, Christine, you look really hot!”
“Why, thank you, Walter!” she said, as she turned to model her outfit for me, “I thought that I’d show off a bit on our date this afternoon!”
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Frankly, I just don’t understand the fascination that most people have with fashion models and their skinny, pipestem arms and legs. Maybe I’ve spent way too much time in the gym, but to me, those women just don’t look very healthy. I’ll admit, I really don’t get turned on by women with arms as big as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s, but on the other hand, I do have a weakness for women that have some meat on their bones. To me, Christine’s muscular arms looked pretty damn good. They were well developed, but not with all of the thick veins and deep “cuts” of a female bodybuilder onstage at a contest.
Christine’s well developed, well-defined deltoids were also clearly displayed by her sleeveless shell. Anyone that knows anything at all about bodybuilding would instantly recognize that Christine was a bodybuilder, just by looking at her shoulders.
“Why don’t you check your jacket, too, Walt?” she asked.
Even with my arms covered in the long sleeves of my turtleneck shirt, without my jacket, it was obvious that I, too, was a bodybuilder. Christine and I received a lot more appreciative looks as we strolled around the art exhibit. We were even approached by an infatuated, artsy-type guy, who had to be gay, about modeling for him. He gushed that he wanted to photograph Christine as an Amazon Warrior. He, also, wanted me to be photographed with her, as her captive.
As our would-be photographer fawned over Christine, I thought to myself, “An Amazon Warrior! Now that would be really appropriate for this woman!” Still, I wasn’t exactly crazy about the captive thing.
“Thank you, sir, I’m very flattered, " Christine told him politely, “But, I no longer model professionally.”
When the fawning guy finally left, I asked her, “Did you really ever model professionally, Christine?”
“Oh yes, a few times,” she giggled, “But, I really don’t want to do that anymore.”
Christine held onto my arm as we strolled around the art exhibit. She made it very clear to me, as she occasionally stroked my biceps, that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. I was thoroughly enjoying myself as well, and was very proud to have her on my arm that afternoon. When I asked Christine what she would like for dinner, after we were through seeing the art exhibit, she surprised me.
“I have plenty of food, already prepared, back home in the refrigerator, Walt,” she said, “Why don’t we leave the city now, before it gets too late, and I’ll feed you back at my place?”
“That sounds nice!” I answered, thinking about how I’d really like to get Christine alone now, as quickly as possible.
Christine was very animated and talkative on our drive home. She told me a lot more about her earlier experiences in bodybuilding. It turned out that she had actually considered becoming a professional bodybuilder, but gave it up when things started to get way too crazy. Christine told me, without my asking, that she had even taken steroids for a short time. She stopped taking them, however, when she started to get the ‘roid rages’.
I was surprised by Christine’s honesty when she said, “Besides the trouble with the ‘roid rages’, I really didn’t want my little female clitoris to grow into a big male penis.” She continued, “I would, also, have had to get big breast implants if I wanted to make it as a professional bodybuilder. Almost all of the really successful, professional women bodybuilders have them.”
She really surprised me, thought, when she told me, “Did you know that a lot of professional women bodybuilders support themselves by being paid to do coed wrestling and ‘muscle worship’ sessions?”
I admitted, “I had heard that, Christine. Is it really all that common?”
“Oh, yes!” she replied, “But, that’s just way too bizarre for me!” She continued, holding her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart, “That’s about this far away from prostitution, as far as I’m concerned!” She finished, “That’s another reason why I didn’t accept your invitation for coffee, when we first met. You would be amazed at how many times I’ve been propositioned to do wrestling and ‘muscle worship’ sessions, by both men and women!”
“Men and women?!” I said in surprise.
“Oh, yes!” she answered, “You would be amazed by how many times women come on to me!”
I thought about it, for a few seconds, and then realized that I really shouldn’t be too surprised. There are a lot of gay and bisexual guys out there that have a thing for muscular guys. There are also a fair number of women that claim to be turned off by guys with big muscles. But, for every one of those women, there must be ten other women who go absolutely crazy over really muscular guys. If there are as many gay, or bisexual, women in the world as there are guys, it stands to reason that some of those women would have a thing for other muscular women.
Christine went on to say, “Anyway, I don’t get asked out by normal guys very often.”
Again, I realized that I really shouldn’t be too surprised. Very few seasoned male bodybuilders, including myself, have any trouble getting laid on a regular basis. You can trust me on that! It’s a different story, however, for the female bodybuilders. You would think that it would be natural for male bodybuilders to pair up with female bodybuilders. After all, they do spend an awful lot of time together in the gym and they do have a lot in common.
The problem is; most athletes tend to be somewhat self-centered, and bodybuilders may very well be the most self-centered athletes of all. Bodybuilders put a lot of time and work into themselves, and their worlds really do revolve around themselves. Bodybuilders are, after all, their sport. They carry their sport with them twenty-four hours a day. If you think about it, it’s pretty unlikely that a self-centered guy will hookup, for very long, with an equally self-centered girl. And, besides all of that, I think that most guys, bodybuilders included, are more attracted to girly-girls, and there are a lot more girly-girls around. The bottom line is, female bodybuilders have a lot more trouble dating, and living reasonably normal lives, than their male counterparts.
With all of our talking, it seemed like we were back at her apartment in no time. As soon as we were inside her door, Christine turned around and kissed my on the mouth. I put my arms around her and pulled her close to me. Christine responded by putting her arms around me and holding me tight. Believe me, a girl with fifteen-inch biceps can hold you really tight!
In no time at all, we were French-kissing and slowly running our hands all over each other’s bodies. I inhaled the scent of her musky perfume and the smell of her hair as we embraced. Christine was definitely a hard-body. I was sure that every single inch of her was firm as we stood there, kissing and cuddling, for a long time.
I was warm and aroused, and I was sure that Christine was getting warm, too. I had to struggle with her, just a bit, to remove her jacket, until she realized what I was trying to do. Breaking our kiss and giggling, Christine, finally, allowed me to take off her jacket and drape it over a nearby chair. As I turned back to her, Christine rushed into my arms and pressed her tongue against my lips.
Christine started to slowly rub herself against me as we stood there tongue-kissing. Running both of my hands over her firm, shapely ass, I pulled her even tighter against me. As she pressed herself into me, I slowly ran my hand over one of her very firm breasts, feeling Christine’s hard, erect nipple under my fingers.
She moaned softly and pinned my hand between us as I explored her chest. Using my other hand, I gently tugged upward on the hem of her sleeveless shell. Christine leaned back a little, allowing me to free my pinned hand from her chest, and slowly lift up her tight top.
“Just a moment,” she murmured, as she raised her arms over her head and allowed me to slowly peel off her sleeveless shell. I caught only a glimpse of Christine’s firm breasts before she was back in my arms, but I saw that she had no tan lines at all on her chest. Her areolas were small and brownish-red, but her erect nipples were long and thick. Christine ground her hard breasts and nipples into my chest as we kissed, and I could feel the ripples of the firm, hard muscles of her naked back as I held her tight. There was no doubt in my mind, as I ran my hands slowly over her muscular back, that I was holding a very strong, vibrant woman.
Christine continued to slowly rub herself against me as I ran both my hands down over her firm, shapely ass. Slowly, I unzipped the back of her short, black-leather mini-skirt. As I gently tugged downward at her waistband, Christine broke our contact just enough to allow me to push her skirt down over her muscular hips. From there, she quickly wiggled her skirt down over her thick, muscular thighs to the floor and gracefully stepped out of it, one foot at a time.
She pressed herself hard against me again, wearing only her black tights and her black, stiletto, high-heeled shoes.
“Now,” she whispered, “it’s time for you to get out of this,” as she tugged on lapels of my jacket.
“All right,” I whispered back, as I held Christine tight with one arm and transferred my condoms and little tube of lubricant from my jacket pocket to my trousers. One should always be prepared, you know!
Christine impatiently watched as I took off my jacket and tugged at the waistband of my turtleneck shirt. Quickly, she pulled off my shirt, tossed it aside, and rushed back into my arms. We held each other tight for a long while, enjoying the sensuous feeling of our naked chests rubbing against each other.
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Slowly, I ran both hands all over her muscular back and her firm, shapely ass. Reaching higher, for a brief moment, I touched the small of her back, then slowly slipped both of my hands down into the back of her tights. I pulled her even closer to me, if that were possible, cupping and kneading both of her firm, naked ass cheeks with my hands.
Continuing to slowly rub herself against me as I fondled her hard, sexy ass, Christine huskily whispered, “Maybe it’s time to go into the bedroom, Walt.”
My own raging hard-on was pushing back against Christine’s firm, hard body as we stood there, just inside her door. Kissing her deeply, I gently broke our kiss and moved to her side. Scooping her up in my arms, I was really thankful that I pumped a lot of iron. Muscles are dense and heavy, and Christine was a very muscular girl. I estimated that Christine weighted almost one hundred and eighty pounds, as I cradled her magnificent body in my arms. She was definitely not a lightweight, little girly-girl!
“Where’s the bedroom, Christine?” I whispered.
With one arm wrapped firmly around my neck, Christine pointed in the right direction with her other hand. “Oh, you are strong!” she giggled, as I easily carried her towards her bedroom.
“Yes, I am!” I whispered back, thankful I had the strength to carry that beautiful young woman.
Squeezing through the door to her bedroom, I gently laid Christine down on her bed. She smiled up at me, put both of her strong arms around my neck, and pulled me down onto the bed. We kissed passionately as I gently ran my hand over her hard breasts, feeling her long, thick, erect nipples pressing back against my palm.
Slowly, I ran my hand down over her hard stomach, feeling the ripples of her hard, six-pack, abdominal muscles. I could have sworn that I could actually feel Christine’s strength and vitality pulsing thorough her muscular body as I touched her. Reaching her black tights, I lightly ran my hand over her firm hips, ass, and her thick, muscular thighs. I could feel the striations of her individual hard thigh muscles as I ran my fingers over her legs. Moving very slowly, I gently ran my hand over the smooth crotch of her black tights. Christine moaned softly and spread her muscular legs a little, giving me even more access to the most private, most secret part of her beautiful body.
I could feel the small, but unmistakable bulges of Christine’s mons and prominent inner pussy lips against my palm and fingers, through her tights, as I slowly fondled her between her slightly spread legs. She kissed me passionately, moaned very softly, and spread her firm legs still wider as I continued to gently caress her sex. After a little while, Christine broke our French-kiss, released her strong grip on me, and tugged at the waistband of her tights.
“Let me do that, Christine,” I whispered, as I gently stopped her hands.
Sitting up, I slowly pulled her tights down over her firm ass. I whispered, “Now, lift yourself up just a little bit, Christine,” when I could pull her tights down no further without her co-operation.
She lifted her shapely ass off the bed, just a little, and I gently pulled her tights down over her firm, muscular thighs. It was then that I noticed that Christine was still wearing her sexy, black, stiletto high-heeled shoes.
“Just a moment, Christine,” I said, as I moved further down the bed to remove her shoes. She smiled sweetly at me as I removed her shoes, set them aside, and returned to slowly pulling her black tights all the way off of her long, muscular legs.
Setting her tights aside, I knelt there, at the bottom of her bed, just staring at Christine’s fabulous body. She had absolutely no tan lines at all. Christine’s pubic mound was covered with her thick, dark bush and her long, thick, inner labia protruded out below her dense muff. Her thighs were thick and muscular, and, as I looked at her, I realized that Christine’s combination of muscular thighs and shoulders made her waist appear to be even narrower than it really was. Christine may not have had a “classic” pinup girl’s voluptuous hourglass figure, but she had a feminine, hourglass figure, nonetheless.
As I continued to stare at her amazing body, I realized that she hadn’t worn a bodybuilder’s posing bikini in quite some time. It was obvious, from the shape of Christine’s thick, dark bush, that she hadn’t waxed her bikini line in well over a year.
Christine smiled back up at me, rolled slowly over onto her side, and said, “Come on back up here with me, Walt,” as she softly patted the pillow next to her.
As I moved back up the bed, Christine reached for my belt and said huskily, “Now, it’s time that you got out of these trousers!”
With her help, I quickly undressed completely, and lay back down beside her. Christine pressed her hard body against my side and ran her hand over my muscular chest. She leaned down and kissed me hard on the mouth as she continued to explore my own muscular chest, back, arms, and stomach with her hand.
I, in turn, slowly ran my hand from her cheek, to her neck, to her shoulders, and then slowly down over her firm, muscular chest. Softly, I pressed my hand against one of her firm, hard breasts, feeling her long, thick, erect nipple pressing back against my fingers.
Christine moaned softly as I slowly kissed my way from her mouth, down her neck, to her chest and firm breasts. She moaned still louder as I gently licked her thick nipples and sucked them into my mouth, one-at-a-time.
Moving back up to kiss her hard on the mouth, I let my hand wander slowly down over Christine’s hard stomach. Lingering there for only a little while, I slid my fingers further down to her thick, dark bush. Christine’s long legs writhed gently as I slowly ran my fingers through the dense growth of her pubic hair.
She broke our kiss, momentarily, and moaned when my fingers finally reached her naked vulva. Christine’s outer pussy lips were firm, and her inner pussy lips were long and thick. I could feel her moisture on my fingers as I gently ran them up between her thick, inner labia. By touch alone, I could feel her large, swollen clit. Christine moaned still louder, and opened her beautiful legs still wider, in response to my slow, gentle explorations.
As I continued to fondle her intimately, Christine’s own hand reached for my erection. “Oh, I see that you’re muscular all over,” Christine giggled, as she firmly grasped my hard shaft. She continued softly, “Very impressive, Walter!”
My erection grew rock-hard, as she gently stroked me. Gently, removing her hand from my cock, I whispered, “Just give me a moment, Christine,” as I reached down for the condoms and lubricant in the pocket of my discarded trousers, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”
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I quickly opened a condom, rolled it onto my rock-hard cock, squeezed some lubricant onto my fingers, and rubbed it all over my condom-covered shaft.
“Now, where were we, Christine?” I whispered, as I turned my attentions back to her.
“I’m right here, Walt,” she whispered, as she put her strong arms around my neck and tongue-kissed me again.
Christine’s pussy was so already so wet, that we probably didn’t need any extra lubricant. “But, why take the chance?” I thought to myself, as I gently rubbed the lube into her slit.
Breaking our passionate French-kiss, I slowly kissed my way down Christine’s strong, firm body to her navel. Giving her hard stomach one last kiss, I pushed myself up and quickly moved down to kneel between her beautiful, widespread, muscular thighs.
A look of concern crossed Christine’s face, and she whispered, “Just give me a moment, Walt,” as she reached over for the lubricant. As I watched in fascination, she squeezed some more lubricant onto her fingers and slowly worked it into her pussy. When Christine was finished, she smiled up at me and said, “You’re pretty big, Walt. I don’t want to take any chances!”
Christine then lifted her knees, keeping her heels flat on the bed, and spread her strong legs wide to receive me. As I approached her still closer, she smiled and gently grasped my rock-hard cock, guiding it to the entrance of her wet, well-lubricated pussy.
As I knelt there between Christine’s legs, with her strong hand around my erection, I looked deep into her beautiful, wide-set, shining, gray-blue eyes. This was no shy, little flower looking helplessly up at me, surrendering herself to me like some ravisher in a cheap romance novel. This was a strong, vibrant, passionate young woman who was taking me willingly as her lover!
“No,” I thought, “this girl is definitely not going to just lay there, while I have my way with her!”
With Christine holding onto and guiding my hard shaft, I began to slowly ease myself inside of her magnificent body. “My god!” I thought, “This girl is tight!”
Her smile turned into a look of discomfort as I began to slowly penetrate her pussy with my rock-hard cock. “Are you alright, Christine?” I asked, in genuine concern.
“Yes!” she whispered, “Don’t stop, Walt! It will be all right!” She continued, “Don’t stop!”
Very slowly and gently, using very short strokes, I rocked myself back-and-forth until I had penetrated Christine completely. With my rock-hard cock completely enveloped by her incredibly tight pussy, I stopped my thrusts, leaned down, and kissed her gently on the mouth.
“Is it alright, Christine?” I whispered, after breaking our kiss.
“Yes!” she breathed, “Just let me get used to this for a little while, O.K.?!”
“Of course!” I whispered back, “Just relax, Christine.”
With my cock buried deep inside of her, we gently kissed and cuddled, until Christine, finally, started to relax.
“My god, Christine!” I whispered, “You have muscles everywhere!”
She giggled and then laughed out loud. When Christine stopped laughing, she said seductively, “Haven’t you ever been with a real muscle girl before, Walter?”
“Not like you, Christine,” I said truthfully. I continued, “Are you comfortable, now?”
“Yes!” she breathed, “It feels really good with you inside of me, Walter!”
“Well, then where were we?” I whispered, as I began to slowly thrust my rock-hard cock in-and-out of her very tight pussy.
Christine held me tight and tongue-kissed me as I slowly increased the depth of my thrusts. Her breathing quickened noticeably, as I started to move my hard shaft faster inside of her. Soon, she wrapped her strong, muscular legs around me and held me even tighter.
To my surprise, Christine broke our French-kiss and moaned loudly, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh! Ooooooooooh!” as she arched her back and bucked hard beneath me. Her tight pussy contracted even tighter around my rock-hard cock as she bucked. Christine flailed her legs in the air and groaned loudly, “Oooooh! Oh my god!” before her spasms subsided and she released me from her Amazonian grip.
“Wow, Christine!” I whispered, as I continued to steadily thrust my rock-hard cock in-and-out of her tight, wet pussy.
“Yes, wow!” she giggled, as she put her arms around me and kissed me deeply. Soon, Christine wrapped her strong legs around me again, as well.
Shifting my weight to one arm, I slowly ran my free hand lightly over Christine’s firm breasts. She squeezed me even tighter with her arms, as I gently tweaked her hard, erect nipples with my fingers.
Christine was a strong girl, so I pressed my chest into her firm breasts while I continued my strong, steady rhythm in-and-out of her tight pussy. She moaned and tightened her muscular legs around me, in response.
Breaking our tongue-kiss, Christine softly moaned, “Oh! Oooooh!” as her breath quickened again. She gently writhed beneath me, as I continued the strong, steady thrusts of my rock-hard cock inside of her pussy.
She continued to moan softly in my ear as I maintained my strong, steady rhythm. After a few minutes, Christine was breathing hard, and her moans became louder and more frequent. “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh!” she groaned, while her body shook and spasmed beneath me. Her tight pussy spasmed as well, gripping and releasing my rock-hard cock in time with her moans.
Christine, momentarily, loosened her arms and legs from around my body, then tightened them yet again. She moaned loudly, Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!" before relaxing, just a little bit.
I thrust my rock-hard cock all the way into Christine’s tight, wet pussy, as I pressed my face into her shoulder. As I spasmed my load of hot cum deep inside of her, she spasmed and moaned again, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh!”
I had never been with a woman who orgasmed multiple times like Christine. My own spasms had just subsided when she gasped, Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh! Ooooooooooh!" one last time, before her body relaxed and she kissed me softly on the mouth.
She whispered, “That was really good, Walt!” as she smiled up at me and kissed me deeply on the mouth again.
“Yes, it was!” I whispered back, as I held her tight. My cock was still rock-hard inside of Christine’s tight, wet pussy, but I needed a fresh condom before I could continue with our lovemaking.
I slowly leaned back and withdrew myself from her incredibly tight pussy and whispered, “Don’t go away, Christine. I’ll be right back!”
As quickly as I could, I found her bathroom, cleaned myself up, and put on a fresh condom. Walking back into her bedroom with my erection standing straight out in front of me, I said, “I’m back, Christine.”
Christine was lying on her side with a forearm covering her breasts and her thigh thrust forward, covering her crotch. She smiled up at me, as I walked towards her, and giggled, “My, my, Walt! I can see that you’re still happy to see me!”
I lay down on the bed, beside Christine, and said, “Oh, yes!” I continued, “Are you still in the mood, Christine?”
Christine smiled broadly, as she reached out her hand for my erection, and said with a delighted laugh, “Yes, and I can easily see that you’re still in the mood too, Walt!”
“Are you?” I whispered, as I leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth.
“Oh, yes!” she giggled, as she fondled my still rock-hard cock, “I’m, definitely, still in the mood!”
Slowly, Christine lifted her shapely thigh and rolled over onto her back. I was really tempted to try some exotic kama sutra position with her, but reluctantly decided against it. After all, this was the first time that we were making love. The erotic acrobatics that I had in mind could wait for a better time!
Christine opened her legs still wider as I slowly ran my hand down her beautiful body from her firm breasts to her shapely hips. She laid their, almost brazenly displaying herself to me, as I gently ran my hand up along the inside of one strong thigh, over her naked vulva, and then down the inside of her other muscular thigh.
She gently cradled my head in her strong hands as I leaned down to kiss her firm breasts and gently suck her hard, thick nipples into my mouth, one-at-a-time.
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Kissing her softly, one last time, on the mouth, I moved down the bed until I was, again, kneeling between Christine’s muscular, wide-open thighs.
Christine smiled up at me as she held my rock-hard cock and slowly guided it into her tight, wet pussy.
As, I began to ease myself inside of her, I whispered, “It’s easier, this time, Christine.” She was still very tight, but entering her for the second time was a lot easier than the first time.
“Yes, it is!” she whispered.
As I slowly pushed my hard shaft deep inside of her tight pussy to my full length, Christine whispered, “Oh, Walt, you feel so good inside of me!”
Taking most of my weight on my arms, I slowly rubbed my chest into Christine’s firm breasts and kissed her deeply on the mouth. Slipping my tongue between her willing lips, I began a slow, steady rhythm with my rock-hard cock, in-and-out of her tight, wet pussy.
Soon, she wrapped her legs around my waist and held me tight. Christine’s breathing quickened and she began to moan softly as I continued my strong, steady rhythm, in-and-out of her tight, wet pussy. Once again, it wasn’t long before she spasmed beneath me. Her tight pussy grasped my rock-hard cock even tighter, as she moaned loudly, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh!” and rolled her head from side-to-side.
Within moments, she moaned again, spasmed, and flailed her legs in the air. This time, Christine’s muscular chest was covered in a light sheen of sweat as she slowly relaxed from her orgasm.
“Oh, that was so good!” she whispered, as she rubbed my back with her hands and kissed me gently on the mouth.
“We’re not through, yet, Christine,” I whispered back.
“I know,” she whispered, “Please don’t stop, Walt! Please don’t stop!” as she kissed me again.
Gently slipping my tongue into her mouth, I continued the strong, steady rhythm of my hard cock in-and-out of her tight, warm, wet pussy. Soon, Christine wrapped her muscular legs around my waist again, as she softly moaned “Oh, oh, this is so good!” in my ear.
Within a few minutes, Christine was, again, breathing hard. She spasmed beneath me and moaned, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!” as her strong legs clamped around my waist. Her face was flushed and her firm body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat when she finally relaxed at little.
“This is so intense!” she whispered, as she ran her strong hands over my back. Pulling me into her, Christine kissed me deeply and pushed her tongue into my mouth as I continued to thrust my rock-hard cock deep inside of her strong, muscular body.
It wasn’t long before Christine, again, convulsed and moaned, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh!” and clutched me tight against her. I had never been with a woman who climaxed as fast, or as often, as Christine. She was a bundle of sexual energy!
Feeling my own climax starting to build, I increased the speed of my strong, steady thrusts in-and-out of her tight pussy. Christine was breathing hard and moaning almost continuously in my ear as I tweaked her long, thick nipples with my fingers and thrust my rock-hard cock in-and-out of her.
Christine again convulsed beneath me and moaned loudly, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!” triggering my own orgasmic spasms.
I moaned a loud, “Ooooooooooh!” myself, as I ejaculated my hot sperm deep within her tight, wet pussy.
Christine writhed beneath me and moaned loudly, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh!” as I held her tight and continued to spasm inside of her.
Spurting one last time, I thrust my still rock-hard cock slowly in-and-out of Christine’s tight, wet pussy. To my surprise, she convulsed beneath me again, and moaned, “Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ooooooooooh! Oooooh!” before she finally relaxed.
Christine was radiant and her eyes were shining as I slowly withdrew my softening cock from deep inside of her warm, wet pussy. As I lay down beside her, she leaned over, kissed me gently on the mouth, and whispered, “That was fantastic, Walt! Thank you!”
“Thank you, Chrisy!” I whispered back, as I pulled her tight against me. Catching myself, I continued, “Do you mind if I call you ‘Chrisy’, Christine?”
“No, not at all, Walt!” she said, “My family and friends back home all call me Chrisy.” She continued, “I like that name.”
Christine rested her head against my shoulder and we cuddled together on the bed for a long while. The sex had been so intense that we both needed time to come back down to Earth.
Finally, Christine lifted her head and kissed me tenderly on the lips. She said softly, “I’m going to go wash up now, Walt. Then, we can go out to the kitchen and I’ll feed you, just like I promised.” Christine continued with a giggle, “But, when you’re well fed and rested, I’m going to take you back to bed!”
The End
A Ride Home
“Thanks so much for the ride Sonny. I can’t believe I left my cell phone home.” Leah Danvers said to the young man as she opened the back door and led him into the kitchen.
“Don’t mention it Mrs. Danvers. I was coming by anyway to see if Mike wanted to shoot some hoops.” He replied, looking around the spacious kitchen. He moved to stand behind her, leaning his jean clad hips on the kitchen’s island.
“I’ll have my husband take a look at the car when he gets home.” She said, turning and almost bumping into him. “Oh.” She said a bit out of breath. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Water would be good.”
She smiled, turned and opened the cabinet for a glass. Filling it from a cold pitcher in the refrigerator, she handed it to him. Their fingers brushed and she stepped back quickly, busying herself with putting away some dishes.
Leah could feel his eyes on her as she moved around the suddenly small kitchen. Sonny was 17 and had been best friends with her son since kindergarten. He was every bit of 6'3" and at least 200 pounds. He was all muscle. The black tank he wore showed off his broad shoulders and powerful arms. His hair was dark and cut short to his head. His deep brown eyes followed her as she moved.
Leah felt uncomfortable with him watching her so she opened the cabinet and began to put away some bowls, anything to keep her eyes and mind off of him. Stretching up on her tip-toes, she tried to place a bowl on the top shelf.
Sonny watched her. The short flowery skirt she wore inched higher up on her thigh as she stretched. His cock hardened even more in his jeans. Mike’s mom had been the center of his nightly fantasies for the past year. He would lay in bed, stroking his eight inch cock and picture her there, slowly stripping for him before climbing onto the bed and sucking his cock until he came, exploding deep in her mouth.
Sonny let her struggle a minute more before putting his drink down and moving to stand behind her. Reaching over her, he placed his hand on hers and helped her slide the bowl onto the shelf.
She closed her eyes and stifled her groan at the feel of his hard body pressed so closely to hers.
“Thank you.” She breathed, lowering her arm, hoping he would step back.
He didn’t step back. He pressed closer.
She felt the hardness of his jean covered cock against her lower back. He moved even closer, pressing it deeper against her. She placed her hands on the countertop and took a deep breath. His big hands came down beside hers. His hot breath tickled her neck as he leaned his head down.
“Sonny? What are you doing?” She asked in a shaky breath.
“What do you want me to do?” He countered, his voice low and seductive.
She shuddered against him, her nipples hardening into two tight points, her pussy leaking inside her cotton panties.
“I think you should go now.”
“Not yet.” He answered, placing kisses on her shoulder where her blouse was open, then her neck and finally taking her earlobe into his mouth and sucking and tugging on it.
His hands went to her thighs and slowly moved upwards, lifting the short skirt she wore. His fingers splayed out, spanning the width of her outer thigh. Higher he went until her skirt was bunched around her waist. Then his hand slid to the front, his fingers teasing the elastic of her panties.
“This is so wrong Sonny.” She said softly, letting her head fall back against his chest.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He said against her wet skin.
Leah closed her eyes as his hand slipped inside her panties and found her wet slit. He slid on long finger through her wetness, coating his finger. She moaned softly. He slid his finger higher, finding her clit and circling it slowly.
His other hand moved upward, under her blouse to squeeze one breast. He pulled her hard nipple through the silky fabric of her bra.
Her breathing quickened, his finger rubbed faster. The squishing sound filled the room. Leah tossed her head back and forth on his chest. Her body was tightening. This was so wrong and yet her body was on fire. She was so close to cumming.
Sonny licked a hot path across her neck while his hands continued to torture her pussy and breast.
“Yes.” She panted, her hips bucking aginst his hand
Her hand gripped his as he continued to rub her clit, faster now. He knew she was close, he jammed his long middle finger deep inside her pussy. She cried out as she came, soaking his hand with her sticking fluid. Her body shuddered and shook against his.
Sonny pulled his finger out quickly and turned her around. His mouth closed over hers, stopping any protest he knew she was about to make. His hands went to her blouse, pulling the sides open, sending buttons flying in every direction. He pulled down her bra, exposing her firm tits.
In a frenzy now, Leah’s hands went to his jeans and expertly she had them open and her hand inside, stroking his cock under his briefs. She circled it and gently squeezed, ringing a groan from him.
Sonny wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her onto the counter. She spread her legs wide and he moved between them. He reached down and ripped her panties off, exposing her wet pussy to him.
She pulled back with surprise and looked at him. There was a tense moment of silence.
“Fuck it.” She said and pulled him closer for a deep kiss.
Sonny pulled her ass to the edge and looked down. They both watched as his thick cock pressed against her pussy, pushing her lips apart and slowly sliding in.
She cried out as he buried himself deep inside her. He grabbed her ass and held her close as he pumped in and out of her. She leaned back on one arm, tilting her hips to take him deeper.
“Yes!” She cried out.
Sonny grunted, his hands spreading her ass cheeks and pounding into her. He lowered his head and captured one jiggling nipple between his teeth, biting hard and making her scream.
“God, you are so tight.: He growled, his hips flexing as he fucked her.
“Your…cock…so…big…” She panted.
Sonny lifted her under her thighs and still inside her, he carred her to the table. She laid back as Sonny spread her legs wide and continued to fuck her. Their bodies slapped together as Sonny pulled out then rammed back inside her.
“Fuck..yes!” She cried, reaching down and rubbing her swollen clit.
“You are such a hot fuck. I’ve wanted you for years.” Sonny growled, leaning over her, forcing her legs back to her chest.
“Yes! Yes!” She chanted, no longer caring that this was her sons best friend.
Sonny reached down and covered her hand with his, both of them rubbing her clit.
“Come for me.” He encouraged, rubbing faster, fucking her faster.
“Oh…God!” She finally cried out, her pussy clenching on his cock. Her body shaking and convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped through her.
“That’s it! Yes!” He shouted, throwing his head back and releasing his cum deep inside her.
He collapsed over her, both of them breathing heavy.
Sonny pulled back, kissed each nipple then straightened. He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her pink pussy, then stood and tucked his flacid cock back into his jeans. He finished his glass of water then turned to leave.
Leah sat up slowly and winced. She hadn’t been fucked like that in years. She pulled her blouse together and hopped off the table. Sonny was at the door, looking back at her.
“Mrs. Danvers?”
She looked at him.
“If you want, I can give you a ride tomorrow.”
She caught the hungry look in his eyes. She could feel his cum leaking from her pussy even now. Her body was on fire. She knew she should say no. The word was on the tip of her tongue.
Instead, she just nodded.
The End