Simmering Guilt
My blood ran cold and I almost blacked out when I saw the return address on the lavender-tinted envelope on the hall table where the maid had left it. The simmering guilt shot right up to the boiling point. I had lived in fear for twenty years of seeing that name on an envelope addressed to my wife. With trembling hand, I reached for it, but it was too late. Joan was at my elbow.
“Anything interesting in the mail, Hon?”
“Mainly bills,” I responded in the calmest voice I could handle. “But here, there seems to be a letter from Lena Gerson. God, it’s been years. Is she even on our Christmas card list still?”
“Yes, silly, of course she is,” Joan replied, as she reached for the lavender-tinted envelope. “If you spent any time reading the cards and letters at Christmas, you’d know we have maintained contact since the KL days. She’s in Winston Salem now. Retired.”
“I thought she’d take on the family business in Kuala Lumpur,” I said weakly. I had to act naturally. I couldn’t have managed to keep Joan from seeing the envelope. Was this it, then? Surely not, if she’s been sending us Christmas cards for over twenty years. But Winston Salem. That’s just down the road from Roanoke. God. I couldn’t let Joan see me sweat, but I felt like melting into a pool right there in the foyer.
“Ah, well, what’s Cook got on for lunch?” I asked, desperate to indicate that I wasn’t ruffled.
“You’ve got a tennis and lunch date at the club,” Joan answered. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that.” And then she gave me a peck on the cheek and turned and marched toward the back of the house, waving that lavender-tinted envelope and provocatively swinging her hips. She was still beautiful, trim, and auburn haired after all these years. Still something to look forward to going to bed for. But would whatever was in that envelope change all of that?
Tennis. That had been my nemesis to begin with. That and the fact that I went out to the embassy in Kuala Lumpur four months before Joan was able to join me.
The Hamiltons had been the toast of the KL English-speaking expatriate community when I got there. Lena—Lena Hamilton then—came from one of the wealthiest foreign business families, the major carpeting importers for the entire country. The Gersons were Americans and maintained their citizenship, but they’d been living in Southeast Asia and doing business there for two generations. Vance Hamilton had been the tennis pro at the English Club, at least until he landed Lena. After that he was just the handsome boy toy face in the company showroom and in the dining room (and bedroom, as necessary) for the company’s big spenders.
They were probably the most handsome expat couple in the country when I got there to take up my economic attaché posting at the American embassy. Because of their resemblance in looks and attitude to two of the reigning American movie stars of the early 1980s, they were referred to in social circles as Kathleen (for Kathleen Turner) and Harrison (for Harrison Ford). In Lena’s case, the resemblance was startling, down to the throaty voice, which, like Kathleen Turner, Lena put to good use in the local English-language theater company.
I found these nicknames amusing, not the less so when my wife finally arrived in KL and she and I were promptly dubbed Ken and Barbie.
Several things intersected to entangle me in those first few months of what was my first foreign service assignment at the attaché level. It was made clear to me that I was to foster friendships and service to the American business community, Lena was a spoiled and demanding heiress of the American business community, I had been trained to the theater and had the minor assignment of fostering American arts in Malaysia, Lena was a sultry-role actress in the English-language theater in the capital city, both Lena and I played pro-level tennis, Lena was sexy as hell and begged for servicing in every smile she flashed, and my wife was nowhere to be seen yet.
The day I got roped into playing mixed doubles with Lena and Vance at the English Club was the same day Lena dumped her husband for me as a doubles partner on the regional tournament circuit as well as the same day that I serviced her in my temporary digs in the embassy housing compound. She would have been irresistible even if I hadn’t been told to please the local American business community in any way I had to and even if she hadn’t told me in no uncertain terms what she, as the heiress of a leading American business in the country, would consider good service.
Our doubles tennis match had been hard fought and went on longer than I anticipated. I was running late for a cocktail party and my ride back to the embassy flat was long gone before the match was completed. Vance had a singles match and Lena said she was going to the same cocktail party I was and would drop me by my flat where we both could shower and change. She told me she’d wait for me while I showered, but I discovered that she was waiting for me in the shower. She sucked me to excitement and then I raised her hips up, back against slippery wall tiles, spread her legs, and, crouching my thighs under hers, lowered her puckered cunt onto my throbbing tool. Sliding her up and down on the wet tiles, I fucked her under the cascading water until her sexy, throaty moans brought me to ejaculation. Then, as the bed was between the bathroom and the door, neither of us made it to the cocktail party.
Within a couple of weeks, I found out what kind of leash she had Vance on, because he came upon Lena and me fucking on a chaise lounge in her company’s cabana by the club pool one afternoon, and, rather than make a scene, he stripped off his swimming trunks and joined us. I was pretty squeamish at first, but they feel right into the threesome as if they did this all of the time, which I’m sure they did. At first, all of the concentration was on pleasuring Lena. Whatever position we took, I took care of her cunt and Vance took care of her ass. We met somewhere almost every day or night, though, and it wasn’t long before I found Vance fondling me—and then kissing me—as often as he was servicing Lena. It was sort of a gradual thing. I had no idea, really, when we had progressed into that. But Vance was a very attractive and sexy and inventive man. And I found that I was excited when he kissed me and invaded my ass with his fingers while I was fucking Lena.
The day came within two months of my arrival that Vance sought me out without Lena and romanced me into fucking him.
I kept up the three-mode subterfuge—Lena and me, the three of us, and Vance and me—for a couple of months. I’d never done anything like this before, and it was an intoxicating experience. But, of course Lena eventually, inevitably found us, naked, with my cock pumping up into Vance’s ass, and she screamed bloody murder and made all sorts of threats. Three days after that Joan arrived in Kuala Lumpur. And on that day my simmering guilt was born and sat there for years as a threat over my head—until years and several foreign assignments up to the ambassadorial level after that, it just faded away in the understanding that it was all in the past. Now, with the arrival of a lavender-tinted letter, more than twenty years later, it was all back on the front burner. And my wife was telling me that we never really had lost contact with Lena.
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The foolish affair with Lena was just the start of my two-year Kuala Lumpur tour. I had a job to do. And I couldn’t do that job and avoid Lena on multiple fronts. I obviously had to maintain connections with her family business. And she insisted that we team up for the regional tennis circuit, all the more important to her now, because she unceremoniously dumped Vance, who managed to find an British expat club in Manila that needed a tennis instructor. She also wanted juicy parts in the English-language theater’s plays, which she could get on the strength of her own looks and acting ability, but which were assured when I took on directing duties for two plays a year at the club. But our affair had already stopped, dead in its tracks, three days before my wife arrived in KL.
The irony was that Lena and Joan became instant and almost inseparable friends. The even greater irony was that some months later, when Lena and I were winning our tennis matches and traveling all over Southeast Asia to defend our record and titles—and when Lena popped up in a starring role in every play I directed, the rumors started throughout the community. Lena and I were lovers. We had to be. It no longer was Kathleen and Harrison and Ken and Barbie. The whispers were all Kathleen and Ken—and poor Barbie.
My wife took it all like a queen. She never questioned me once. Her friendship with Lena never flagged. She never showed an ounce of jealously or any indication of having heard the rumors at all. And she never had a reason to suspect that anything happened after she arrived. I’d had my little, titillating, naive fling with the jet setters and the whole sexual liberation bit. Well, sure, over the years I fell off the wagon now and again—with both women and men—but these were always brief couplings of circumstance, immediate need, and momentary heat. But each time I fell off the wagon, the simmering guilt of those three months in KL jabbed at me.
I was in agony for the rest of the day after the envelope arrived. I even lost my tennis match, which I still almost never did. I dragged home, up the oak-lined drive, to that old plantation house south of Roanoke that we’d lovingly restored as we prepared for our retirement from the foreign service, fully expecting to find my suitcase on the portico when a sticky note attached telling me that Joan would use our family lawyer and I could jolly well find my own right after I’d found someplace else to live.
But, no, there was Joan, seated on the stone terrace back by the pool, my evening screwdriver chilled and all ready for me.
As I settled into the wrought-iron patio chair, I saw the slitted lavender-tinted envelope sitting on the table between us. Joan didn’t keep me in agony for much longer.
“The letter from Lena suggests we take in the Spoleto music and theater festival in Charleston with her next month; she says she has a condo rented there for a week during the festival and she’d love to see us again and to take in the festival programs with someone she can discuss them with.”
“Well, I—” I stuttered. I usually wasn’t this slow in reaction. I had to find some out before this went any further. What sort of game was Lena playing with this? I had to . . .
“I posted back a yes, of course,” Joan said. “You’ve always said we must go to the Spoleto Festival, and it would be great to see Lena again. We have so much to share.”
So much to share. I was panicked. Joan didn’t know the half of how much we had to share if Lena decided to share after all these years. She’d indicated she wasn’t real pleased when I just cutting the affair off. She’d pretty directly said that if I stopped fucking Vance, I could—and should—resume fucking her any time I wanted to—that she didn’t care what Joan or anyone else said. In fact, for months, whenever we were alone she came on to me. But then, of course, she wasn’t the one who had something to lose. Not just my marriage; at that point I could have lost my whole career.
A month now to worry myself to death about the situation. And worry, I did. I came very close to taking up smoking and drinking again. Not fucking. That’s what had gotten me in trouble in the first place. In fact, I was so taken with guilt, no longer simmering, but slowly coming to a boil, that I found it almost impossible to perform with Joan. And that had never happened before. She was one sexy lady. We’d fucked like bunnies several times a week our entire married life.
If Joan noticed anything was wrong, she certainly didn’t reveal it. While I got more nervous and worried with each day approaching our trip down to Winston Salem to pick up Lena Gerson and take her on to Charleston, Joan seemed to take on a higher luster glow and a happier demeanor with each passing day.
Lena was still stunning. She now lived in a deceptively designed “cottage” on a lake near the Wake Forest University campus. It looked cozy and quaint from the outside, but the interior was expansive, and the furnishings revealed that the carpeting business in Southeast Asia had remained very lucrative. Everywhere I looked there were art photographs of the highest quality. Joan had told me that Lena had left Malaysia and become a photojournalist, but she hadn’t told me just how successful Lena had become at it.
The same Kathleen Turner smile and throaty laugh, but Lena had done far better at keeping her figure and holding the wrinkles and sags at bay than Kathleen Turner had managed. And when I saw her, despite all those years that had gone by and despite the simmering guilt, my body still told me that it remembered exploring her body and still was interested.
Joan and Lena fell comfortably into their old friendship and gossip of mutual friends and instantly deep discussions of shared interests, which were many and varied. We sat for two hours over a simple, but delicious meal that Lena whipped up with Joan’s help in short order. I watched, drinking too much wine, numb and with the feeling that an open carton of eggs lay right under my feet, threatening to smash and throw yolk and egg white all over the combined kitchen-breakfast room at any moment Lena decided to strike. While I was in suppressed agony over these thoughts, the two women danced around the kitchen in a coordinated movement that could not have been more efficient and artful if they had choreographed it. Joan seemed totally at home in the kitchen—in the whole house, actually. She didn’t have to ask where anything was. She and Lena seemed to match each other perfectly in where they would keep anything and what they’d use for any cooking procedure.
After dinner, we retreated to a screened porch overlooking the lake, to listen to the sounds of the evening and to finish off the second bottle of wine. The two women continued their discussion in murmurs while I lost myself in the pages of a spy novel I’d brought to read on the trip. We were leaving the next morning for the drive to Charleston, so, almost simultaneously, Lena and Joan decided to turn in early. I said I’d be along in a half hour or so, that I wanted to reach a certain point in the book before I went to bed. They said that would be fine and waltzed off toward the stairs to the upper level, arm in arm, and whispering like two long-lost sisters.
A jolt of fear sizzled through me as they left drifted into the house. Was this the moment Lena would take her revenge and end my comfortable life? This would be a perfect theatrical moment for that, and Lena wasn’t anything if she wasn’t theatrical. I stared hard out to where the light of the moon picked up the rippling of the lake waters and waited, heart heavy, the effect of the wine suddenly intruding and causing my head to throb.
I was straining to hear what they were whispering and giggling about as they mounted the stairs, but I couldn’t pick it out.
And then silence. No ceiling caving in, no wail of disbelief and betrayal from the upstairs.
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I returned to my book and finished the current chapter. I looked at my watch. It had been a good half hour and it was getting late. If I got into reading another chapter, I wouldn’t be fit to drive two chattering women in our smallish BMW across the expanse of North and South Carolina the next morning.
I mounted the stairs, determined not to wake anyone. But half way up, I discovered that this wasn’t necessary. I could hear them murmuring still. I turned to the left and looked into the guest room, but the bed was empty. The hall bath was on the right, and I turned to enter that.
They’d left the door to the master bedroom, farther down the hall, open. They’d wanted me to see all along. They even had candles around on tables and the dresser, and the king-sized bed was in full view of the hallway where I stood.
Both of the women were naked and were in close embrace on the bed. They were kissing deeply. Joan was running the fingers of one hand along Lena’s hip and was rubbing the nipple of a pendulous breast with the fingers of the other hand. Their legs were entwined, but their pelvises were separated a bit. They were separated enough for me to see that Lena had a couple of her fingers buried deeply up Joan’s slit. Joan’s back was arched away from Lena, her long, auburn hair cascading on top of a pillow. They were both moaning. The soft soprano moaning of my wife that I knew so well and assumed that only I could ignite. And the deep alto, throaty moaning of Lena that I also remembered as if I’d heard it only yesterday.
I tore my eyes away from shock of what I saw in the bed and looked wildly around the room, just to be accosted by more shock. The room was filled of photos of my wife, Joan, in provocative nude positions, and of both Joan and Lena, making love. I stood there, numb and unable to move, as Lena made love in three dimension color to Joan with her embedded fingers and as Joan began to writhe and groan and, finally, give several little lurches and a whimper and bury her face between Lena’s breasts.
“Well, are you going to join us?” It was the throaty alto voice.
“Come here, Ethan. Don’t be afraid.” The soprano voice beckoned to me. It sounded calm and rich and satisfied.
I moved into the room and over to the bed like a zombie. The women came up on their knees and undressed me and pulled me down onto the bed between them.
Hands were roaming all over me, from either side of me. Joan was taking possession of my lip with hers and Lena was taking possession of my cock with her lips.
For time interminable, we moved together on the bed, sharing kisses and caresses, my cock being taken into the sweet channels of both women, the fingers of both women exploring the inside of me and of each other. The three of us writhing and moaning together. Soprano, alto, baritone. Murmuring, whimpering, crying out, kissing, moaning, groaning, twitching, sighing in harmony.
Much later, as the candles were sputtering out one by one, I finally found my voice.
“What—?”
“Hush, sweet Ethan.” Smooth fingertips to lips and the throaty alto voice. “Rest now. It will be dawn soon, and we have a lot of driving to do.”
“But . . . but—”
“Do you mean how long?” The soft soprano voice. A little chortle in matching harmony. “Lena and I have been lovers since way back then, when I arrived in KL. When you two stopped, she and I took it up. The rumors about you two was the best cover for us.” Another laugh.
But of course. Joan knowing where everything was in the cottage just as if she’d been here often. All those weekend trips she took for women’s auxiliary meetings in Richmond. I should be mad, or sad, or indignant. But . . . oh, god, how ironic.
The condo in Charleston only had one bedroom. We had no need for more.
The End
Dave’s Gym
“Dave’s Gym”. As he looked at the name on the business card he felt a sense of pride. After working as an engineer for years, feeling his ideas & skill were unappreciated, he finally struck out on his own. While many of his friends were baffled at his choice, Dave knew he made the right decision. Of course most of his friends didn’t know that Dave’s gym was not an ordinary gym.
Dave’s gym was a private facility that catered only to women – and for good reason. A large part of the credit for the success of his enterprise was due to Dave’s interests: engineering, fitness, chubby women and sex. The best part being that his gym brought all these interests together.
Dave’s clients were all overweight, and their main reason for joining a gym was to lose weight. While a small part of the population enjoy exercise, a larger number think of it as “work”. Dave’s philosophy was simple – make exercise enjoyable … or at least have some immediate reward. Continuous immediate gratification would mean long term commitment and so far it was working.
Using his engineering skills, Dave re-designed some commercially available exercise equipment – a rowing machine, a stationary bike, a recumbent cycle, a striding machine, as well as an elliptical machine. Each machine had at least two attachments to sexually stimulate the woman as she exercised. Added to the stimulation, Dave would “workout” with each client – sometimes he would lift weights, other times he would do stretches or even get on one of the machines (without the attachments of course!) This worked really well – partly because Dave had a great physique and partly because he was hardly dressed. Most often he wore only tight bike shorts or really loose, short nylon shorts that would let his cock peek out a leg opening (at least it did when it was flaccid, which wasn’t very often). Either kind of short clearly showed how well endowed he was in addition to providing a clear indication of just how aroused he was at any given time.
Dave allowed himself a wicked grin as he remember the reaction his “uniform” had on each of his five clients at their first meeting. He almost laughed out loud remembering the redhead, Dawn. He’d worn the short nylon shorts and his cock had hung out the left leg hole at first. She hadn’t known where to look! Dave could feel his cock twitch as he remembered the instant reaction he’d had when Dawn’s eyes had rested on his crotch and she’d licked her lips. He couldn’t remember a time he’d gotten so hard so fast!
Like all his clients on their first appointment, Dawn had brought “workout clothes”. The usual baggy T-shirt and track pants. He always let them start off that way because he knew it wouldn’t last.
Dawn’s first visit…
Dave took Dawn on a tour of the facility located in the basement of his 10,000 square foot home. Dave had done most of the renovations himself which included a changing area, hot tub & massage table. Of course there were customizations there as well.
Dave ended the tour by leading Dawn to the changing room. He used every opportunity he could to brush against her without making it to obvious. Letting her know he would go set up, he closed the door behind him, leaving her to change.
Behind the door were several pictures – several of voluptuous women in 50’s style pin-up poses … stockings, garters, heels etc –the pictures were sexy without being trashy or vulgar. There were also a few of himself in his tight shorts mostly, but in two of the pictures he was naked. One was from behind and one was a side short as he was lying down. If you looked carefully you could see his cock, but it was just a glimpse.
As Dave set up two machines with attachments, he hoped Dawn spent some time enjoying his mini-gallery.
When Dawn emerged from the change room, she was a little flushed. Dave surmised that she must have been checking out the photos. Maybe even saw the one he mentally called his peeking cock.
Smiling Dave walked Dawn over to the recumbent cycle as he gave a general explanation of how the session would go (not giving away any of his surprises). While the cycle had no attachments this time, he had set up the vibrating mechanism. He helped her settle on the custom formed seat & set the resistance. Dawn began pedaling and Dave took up some hand weights. Positioning himself on a bench in her line of sight, he started some bicep curls. Dave had straddled the bench so his legs would be open and he could feel Dawn’s eyes zero in on his crotch. His cock twitched one and slowly started to thicken. He smiled as he encouraged Dawn for 15 minutes on the cycle. He knew Dawn would feel the vibration in her pussy and ass as the cycle’s seat started up while she pedaled. When he put the weights down and stood up he could tell he was already half erect.
He brought Dawn over to the bench for some weights. She sat primly on the edge and he saw his first opportunity. Straddling the bench behind her, he reached his arms around her and put his hands between her knees. Uncertain, she sat stiff and still within the circle of his arms. He gently pushed out to open her legs and then moving his hands half way up her inner thighs, he applied pressure to pull her back to rest flush against his body. With his semi-erect cock caught between his body and her ass (where it was growing harder by the second) he took a deep breath to catch her musk. Making an appreciative sound in his throat he stood up keeping his cock brushing against her as much as possible. He began explaining she needed to sit like this to execute the moves properly. He just didn’t elaborate on which move he was referring to.
Bringing a set of 2lb weights over, he them to her. He explained as well as demonstrated what she needed to do for bicep curls. As she did her curls, he laid down on the floor in front of the bench and began some crunches. With each crunch he could feel the nylon of his shorts brush against his cock, stimulating him further. Dawn was once again feasting her eyes on his groin, and he felt himself get harder still thinking of her reaction when she saw him completely bare for the first time.
After about 10 minutes, Dave decided it was time to take things to the next level.
Anyone who became a client knew that Dave’s Gym was exclusive and offered special services. Many tight-ass, buff women wanted to join but Dave kept his clientele exclusively on the heavy side. One of the perks in owning your own business is deciding who you allow as clients. With Dave’s extra services, he had decided that chubby was what he wanted.
As he got up from his crunches, Dave could detect a stronger musk from Dawn. Glancing quickly between her legs he could make out a dark spot of moisture. God he loved it when they got horny before using the attachments!
He explained to Dawn it was time to move onto the part of his program that made it special. Dave took her over to the gliding machine and she looked puzzled. There was a bar between the pads for her feet and it looked wet. Dave explained the “wet stuff” was lube to reduce friction. When Dawn didn’t move, he walked around in front of her, put his hands in the waist of her track pants and pulled them down. Crouching at her feet, he helped her out of them. She was so stunned she docilely stepped out of them. He reached up and repeated the process with her panties. Before standing up, Dave took a moment to put his nose in her crotch. He inhaled her scent, then quickly opened her nether lips and flicked his tongue against her slit. She gasped, but didn’t move away.
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Standing quickly, Dave brought her to the position to mount the machine. He helped her raise her leg over the bar and quickly brought his hand between her legs to open her outer lips so her inner lips & clit would rub against the textured strip running along the top of the bar while she worked out. He whispered to her that the strip had been lubed to so that she could enjoy the exercise she was about to receive.
Placing her hands on the hand grips he stepped up on the boxes to either side of the machine. He placed them there so he was standing behind and a bit above her with his legs open. She might need to lean back against him until she got used to the sensation. As the unit was designed so the arms & legs moved together, he had only to place his hands over hers & push to get the walking motion started. As her legs moved, the bar moved back and forth. A surprised “oh” escaped her lips and Dave could feel her take over, speed up and lean into the machine. Oh yeah, she was definitely a horny one!
Dave didn’t need to provide any more visual stimulation for her because Dawn had closed her eyes. But he did keep his hands on her shoulders so she wouldn’t lean too far forward and throw herself off balance. It also helped to keep her back in contact with his now rock hard dick.
Dave didn’t want Dawn to come before finishing the day’s set, so he kept the glider to only 10 minutes. Dawn’s disappointment was palpable. In the end, he knew, she would be leaving satisfied and exercised.
Dave told her there was one more machine to do today. Dawn followed him eagerly over to the rowing machine. Before allowing her to mount it, Dave insisted she take of her shirt for safety. Seeing the attachment waiting for her, Dawn took off her shirt and bra. Dave smiled at her eagerness and complimented her on her enthusiasm.
He guided Dawn to the seat, and put the attachment in place. Dave explained to Dawn how it worked. The dildo would rest between her legs at the opening of her pussy. When she rowed and came to the end of the rowing motion it would penetrate. How hard it thrust would depend on how fast she rowed. She was encouraged to try to hold it inside by squeezing her inner pussy muscles. He would watch to make sure she didn’t hurt herself.
Dawn completed the first row and felt the dildo enter. She threw back her head and yelled “YES!” Dave watched her face as the machine momentum pulled the dildo out. “Keep rowing” he ordered. As Dawn rowed he listened to her cries and moans. He pulled off his shorts and started stroking himself as he watched the horny redhead get fucked by the rowing machine. He could hear how wet she was getting by the sucking sounds as the machine pulled the dildo out of her greedy pussy.
He watched her for 15 minutes and saw the frustration on her face as the dildo continually dislodged itself no matter how hard she tried to keep it in. Dave called a halt and thought she would cry. She needed release. It was another service Dave’s Gym provided.
Dave took her off the machine and laid her on the mat next to the rower. He spread her legs and buried his face in her snatch. As he licked and teased, she moaned and twisted. He had gotten so hot that he decided to forgo the wrestling he had originally planned. Dave needed to bury himself in that hot wet heat – and she needed it to.
He moved up so he was kneeling between her legs. He placed his cock at the entrance to her pussy and called her name until she looked at him.
“Every session will be like this. As you make an effort, I will reward you. Exercise is good for you Dawn.” With that he thrust in a far and as hard as he could. “Milk my cock, Dawn. Work for your reward.” As he felt her inner muscles grip him, he began to rock his hips. He thrust in and out enjoying the slick wet heat he had helped to create. He thought of her enjoyment of his machine customization, and thrust faster, harder. As he could feel himself nearing the edge, he had her bring her knees up so his thrusts would feel fuller – she was a greedy one. Dawn cried out in ecstasy as she came and Dave felt his own explosion rocket forth.
After a brief rest, Dave helped Dawn to the hot tub for a relaxing soak. Another satisfied customer.
The End
Last story for the night
The Best Lovers
Eric waited outside the house in the vast darkness. He pressed the doorbell again, eager to join the gathering inside. He hadn’t seen most of his old high school friends for over a year, and felt eager to reconnect with them.
The door swung open, and Jimmy appeared sipping a beer. He remained expressionless as Eric pushed past, entering the hallway, swinging the door shut behind him.
“Shit, man,” Jimmy greeted him, wiping stray brew from his face. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’,” Eric shrugged, a half-hearted attempt at cheeriness displayed on his lips.
“Shit, man,” Jimmy repeated, slower this time. “You’re not still depressed, are you? Damn it, man, it’s been six freakin’ months.”
“Hey, hey,” Eric put a hand up to defend himself, forcing a more authentic-looking smile. “I know. I’m cool, alright? Just get me somethin’ to drink.”
“Eric!” a voice called out from the living room.
“Nick, you drunk,” Eric chuckled as Nick approached him.
Nick leaned in close, his breath reeking of beer.
“Eric, dude, what’s goin’ on?”
“You smell like shit,” Eric winced, stepping back.
“Whoa,” Nick raised his arms in protest. “Take it easy, man. I’m just havin’ a good time. No need to come in here and kill my buzz just because Tess dumped you.”
“Hey,” Jimmy slapped Nick’s shoulder. “You don’t have to bring that up. He’s right, anyway. You do smell like total shit.”
“It’s cool,” Eric forced a wide grin. “Like I said, I’m over it. And she didn’t dump me. It was mutual.”
“It’s too bad,” Nick slurred as he leaned against the wall for support. “Tess was a great girl. Probably great in bed too.”
“I won’t deny that,” Eric nodded ruefully.
Nick sighed, lowering his voice, “I had some totally awesome sex last night.”
“We don’t want to hear about your damn sex life,” Jimmy shook his head.
“Agreed,” Eric chimed in. “Nick, where is your girl anyway?”
“Coming,” a voice called from the living room.
Eric recognized it instantly as Jenny’s, although a year had passed since their last meeting. They had kept in close contact through computers and phones, as they always had, but Eric felt a jolt in his chest as Jenny’s beauty caught him off guard. Her dark hair flowed fluidly around her striking features that seemed caught between teenager and woman, with the best aspects of both. Her long-sleeved t-shirt highlighted her womanly figure while still maintaining an air of adolescent innocence. Eric knew she was far from innocent, yet the perpetual sparkle in her eyes suggested purity. Simultaneously, their depth conveyed a confidence honed over years of experience. She was the Jenny he remembered.
Jenny herself couldn’t help but grin slightly at the sight of her old friend. His boyish features were somewhat matured by the fact that he hadn’t shaved recently. His normally shaggy hair was a bit shorter and neater, but still uncombed. His eyes perpetually spoke of the heartbreak he had undergone six months ago, but his broad shoulders, held high by his erect posture, gave the impression of a man picking himself up and moving on. She also noticed hints of recent muscular definition beneath his somewhat tight t-shirt. He looked as sweet as ever, but with a slightly rougher edge.
“Hey, Jenny.” Eric engaged in a customary cursory hug with her.
“You look good,” Jenny said with undertones of sympathy.
“Likewise,” Eric nodded coolly, gazing around the condo approvingly. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thanks,” Jenny nodded.
“You’re the only one out of our group actually doing something with your life after college,” Eric observed. “And with an art history degree, no less. Amazing, really.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Nick sputtered. “Lay off my girl.”
“Shut up,” Jenny sighed, hugging her boyfriend tightly. “Eric was complimenting me.”
Nick draped his arm around her shoulder, kissing her forehead.
“She’s all yours,” Eric assured him.
“That’s right,” Nick slurred. “And I’m gonna fuck her like crazy tonight.”
“Not smelling like that, you’re not,” Jenny pulled away with a disgusted expression as she caught a whiff of Nick’s breath.
“Ooohhh,” Jimmy laughed.
“Come on lover boy,” Jenny rolled her eyes, taking Nick’s hand, leading him toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you some mints, and you can help me make dinner.”
As Jenny and Nick walked away, Eric and Jimmy drifted into the living room. Jimmy’s girlfriend Amy was sitting on a couch, intently focused on her cell phone. Eric couldn’t help but notice how the phone’s screen lit her face at a perfect angle to accentuate her elegant features. Her long golden hair seemed to fall like a gentle mist around her cheeks. Her low-cut shirt showcased her sizeable cleavage in an eye-catching yet classy manner. He had always thought Amy was too pretty for a regular guy like Jimmy.
“Hey, Eric,” Amy smiled briefly, looking up from her phone.
“Hey.” Eric lowered himself onto an armchair next to the couch as Jimmy took up his position next to his girlfriend.
“I heard about Tess,” Amy blurted out, resting the phone in her lap.
“Old news,” Eric shrugged.
“You two were so great,” Amy sighed, her wide blue eyes boring into his soul. “What happened?”
“Remember when I went to Spain last semester, to study abroad?”
“Of course,” Amy replied.
“It was amazing there. The people, the lifestyle, the food, even the air smelled better. I never wanted to leave. I talked to Tess on the phone every day, but I guess it wasn’t enough. When I came back, we had grown so far apart. We just couldn’t get along as a couple anymore. My heart belonged to Spain.”
Jimmy spoke in a mockingly saccharine voice. “There was only room in his heart for one true love.”
“Shut up,” Amy scowled. “Eric’s being serious.”
“It’s ok,” Eric chuckled. “I’m alright. I think she was more upset than I was.”
“You don’t look alright,” Amy pierced him with her gaze, and he knew she could see the pain he tried to hide. She had always been able to see through people. She was certainly much too smart for a guy like Jimmy.
“I’ll be fine,” Eric unconvincingly assured her. “I just miss Spain. It sounds awful, but I miss that place more than I miss Tess.”
In the kitchen, Jenny struggled to prepare dinner with her drunken boyfriend hovering over her. She silently cursed Nick for his increasing tendency toward intoxication. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sober during sex.
“What else do you need?” Nick slurred.
“Why don’t you chop these onions?” Jenny sighed as she brushed her bangs from her face.
“Ok,” Nick picked up a knife and positioned it over a red onion.
He began chopping as Jenny stirred the contents of one pot and lowered the heat under another. She closed her eyes and let the aromas of the various foods drift through her mind. She wanted to prepare a perfect, civilized meal for her friends. They hadn’t all gathered together for over a year, and she wanted to show off her recently acquired culinary skills. She especially hoped Eric would enjoy her cooking. Since going to Spain, he spoke of gustatory delights like most guys talked about sex. Almost every phone call or email exchange centered on food in one way or another. Jenny hoped his refined sensibilities would be satisfied by her efforts.
“Is this ok?” Nick blinked at her like a child asking for parental approval.
“Smaller,” Jenny replied, inspecting his chopped onion.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Jimmy mused. “Nick and Jenny getting together?”
“It’s not that weird,” Eric countered. “He always had the hots for her in high school.”
“So did you,” Jimmy retorted playfully.
“I never knew that,” Amy raised her eyebrows at Eric.
“It was a long time ago,” Eric waved his hand dismissively.
“Seriously,” Jimmy spoke softly. “If Nick hadn’t gotten to her first, would you have tried?”
“No,” Eric laughed. “We’ve been friends all our lives. I don’t want to ruin that.”
“I think I cut myself,” Nick laughed.
“Jesus, Nick,” Jenny grabbed the knife from him. Smears of blood adorned several chunks of onion. “I need these onions.” She put a hand to her forehead, trying not to explode with exasperation. “Go get a Band-Aid.”
“I don’t need a fuckin’ Band-Aid,” Nick growled. “It’s just a little cut.”
“Why don’t you go hang out with the others?”
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“I wanna stay and help you.” Nick rubbed her shoulder with his intact hand. Jenny sighed and scowled at him.
“You know what would help? Go to the liquor store, and get more wine. We only have one bottle.”
“Anything for you, baby.” Nick stumbled out of the kitchen. “Wine run! Who’s sober enough to drive?”
“Everyone but you,” Jenny muttered.
-—-
“I have a car, and I haven’t had any drinks,” Amy announced.
“I guess that means I’m going too,” Jimmy heaved himself off the couch.
“I gotta show you what wine to get,” Nick explained.
“You coming, Eric?” Amy asked.
“I’ll stay,” Eric raised his eyes to Nick as if to indicate he would rather not take a car ride with a drunk. The corner of Amy’s mouth curled into a hint of a smile, as if she knew something Eric didn’t.
The trio left to get wine, and Eric headed for the kitchen to see if Jenny needed help with dinner. He found her walking between the stove and counter, purposefully adding ingredients and stirring mixtures.
“Need any help?” Eric asked, startling her.
“Jesus, Eric,” Jenny gasped, then smiled with a hint of rose in her cheeks. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“My apologies,” Eric grinned. “I just wanted to see if I could help.”
“I’m almost done. Nick was helping, but I just couldn’t deal with his childishness anymore.”
“Are things okay between you two?”
“Maybe,” Jenny shrugged as she turned off a burner. “Maybe not.”
“I’m sorry,” Eric nodded solemnly. “Is there anything at all I can help you with?”
Jenny turned around and stared directly into his eyes. She gazed at her friend, always the gentleman, always mature beyond his age, always there for her. Her anger at Nick, combined with Eric’s calming presence, made something snap in her mind, and she walked swiftly toward him.
“Actually, there is one thing you can do,” Jenny confessed.
She stood inches away from him, their eyes locked, and her heart quickened. Before Eric could react, she kissed him. Her lips were swift but gentle, forceful but tender. Eric’s body froze, except for his lips. They instinctively pressed into hers. Jenny’s anger and tension vanished as a wave of warmth swept through her.
Jenny’s tongue caressed his lips, persuading him to open his mouth and allow her sweet organ inside. Distant alarm bells in Eric’s mind were drowned out by the delectable taste of her mouth. Warm blood coursed into his cock, partially hardening it. Soft feminine hands crept up his back as Jenny gave way to his sweet, affectionate kiss, surprised at the strength of his effect on her. As their tongues danced gracefully, she felt a rising excitement between her legs.
So much time had passed since her boyfriend had been able to arouse her with just a kiss!
After some incalculable amount of time, Jenny’s lips withdrew. She smiled sweetly at Eric, who thought she looked more beautiful in that instant than in any other.
“I thought so,” Jenny sighed, her eyes like vast reservoirs of unspoken passion. “I should have been with you all along.”
Eric blinked rapidly as he tried to recover. Desire permeated his body while his mind searched for comprehension.
“What… what?” He stammered.
Jenny watched him silently before explaining. The bewildered expression on his face and the slight bulge in his pants embodied the combination of boyish and manly qualities that attracted her so strongly to him.
“You wanted to kiss me years ago,” Jenny replied. “I should’ve let you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, since I got together with Nick. Being with him reminded me of all the good times our group of friends used to have.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I realized it was you that made all those times great. You were always the sweetest, the kindest, the perfect gentleman and confidant. I should’ve given us a chance as a couple, like you always wanted. If you had been around a few months ago, instead of Nick…”
“Jenny, I’m flattered, but…”
“And now look at you,” Jenny continued as she drifted back to the stove to turn off another burner. “You’re a real man, and a sexy one too. And you haven’t lost any of your charm.”
“Likewise,” Eric fumbled. “I mean, except about being a man. Although, you are rather sexy. You always were. And you were always great in every way. But I never knew you thought of me that way. I thought you just wanted to be friends, and I’m fine with that.”
Jenny faced him again, endearingly sweeping strands of hair from her face. “The best lovers are always best friends first.”
“Lovers?” Eric’s eyes widened. “I know you might be mad at Nick right now, but you’re still with him. And even if you weren’t, I’m not sure I would want to risk losing our friendship. I made peace with my feelings for you a long time ago.”
“I beg to differ,” Jenny grinned slyly, glancing at his crotch, where his semi-hard cock bulged against the fabric.
“Oh, come on,” Eric’s face flushed and his eyes fell in embarrassment.
Jenny laughed melodically as she walked over to him again. Before he could look up, a jolt surged through his body. His eyes registered her hand on his cock, but his baffled brain could barely comprehend the sight.
“We should have been lovers all along,” Jenny whispered softly, leaning close enough to feel Eric’s excited breath on her lips.
“We can’t do this,” Eric gasped as her fingers ran along his growing bulge.
“Yes we can,” Jenny whispered.
To enforce her argument, her hand pushed teasingly against his swollen member.
How long it had been since Nick had gotten hard enough to satisfy her! His incessant drinking softened him until he could barely maintain an erection. Not like Eric, who had sprung to attention at the touch of her lips. She smiled to herself, recalling all the times she’d caught Eric gazing yearningly at her through the years.
Eric’s mind reeled at the closeness of her long-admired body as she undid his pants. His lips gravitated to hers, swept up in the excitement of the moment. Her kiss exceeded all the expectations he’d built up over the years. What a fool he had been, thinking he was over his feelings for Jenny. He had dreamt of this moment so long, and now as she released his hard cock from the confines of his boxers, he couldn’t deny his intense desire for her.
Eric’s cock stood straight out, bobbing up and down with excitement. Jenny’s sweet tongue caressed his as she ran her soft hand along his shaft, feeling every detail. So long, and wide too! Her groin quivered as she imagined his gorgeous manhood buried inside her.
Eric’s strong arms trembled with anticipation as he encircled her shapely back. Her slow, steady pumping of his stiff cock elicited groans from his lips as they pressed desperately into hers. He pulsated eagerly in her hand, exhilaration overtaking his body.
“Jenny,” Eric gasped. “I…”
He struggled to explain himself as her slender fingers wrapped tightly around him. Her mesmerizing eyes fixed on his as an adorable smile crept over her lips.
“I’m gonna cum,” He admitted.
“Not yet,” Jenny giggled sweetly. She released his bulging cock and led him to a kitchen chair, grinning with satisfaction at how excited she’d made him. Her fingertips pushed against his chest, directing him to sit, her chin held high as she gazed down at his firm erection approvingly.
“They could be back any second,” Eric cautioned as he watched Jenny undo her belt.
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“I need this,” Jenny growled urgently, tilting her face downward in an authoritative glare as she dropped her jeans and panties with one swift motion. The bang of her belt buckle hitting the floor reverberated in Eric’s ears as his cock throbbed at the sight of her smooth, pink womanhood. No sooner did he look up at her enchanting face than her legs draped over his lap.
Eric felt the warmth of her hole hovering over his cock as she grabbed hold of his shoulders. She bit her lower lip and breathed heavily as she lowered herself onto his massive rod. Her eyes squinted and mouth opened to release a groan of pleasure as her pussy slid over his throbbing head. Eric’s eyes widened and his hands clenched her back. Cum rose in his cock, ready to burst.
Jenny wasted no time in shoving herself down over Eric’s huge cock, eliciting shrieks of delight from both of them. She barely had time to feel the joy of his erection filling her completely before his load erupted deep inside her. Shockwaves of pleasure shook Eric’s body. Jenny contracted her muscles around his manhood, riding him slowly to aid his orgasm. Moans of satisfaction escaped her lips as his warm juice coated her cervix.
“Oh, Jenny,” Eric sighed as he released the last of his cum in her hot, slippery pussy.
Jenny grinned at him, pleased with how much genuine pleasure he had displayed. His eyes sparkled with wonder, making her giddy with excitement. She hadn’t felt this kind of deep connection with Nick for months, if ever. Sweet moans of bliss floated from her smiling lips as she glided over his still hard cock. Fingers ran through her silky hair as the tip of his manhood pushed into her g-spot.
Her moans quickly rose in volume as her wet hole tightened around his dick. So thick, so deep, so satisfying was his member that she felt her climax approaching. Eric’s manly chest pressed against her erect nipples as he plunged himself into her in rhythm with her motions. With each forceful thrust of his cock against her g-spot, Jenny expelled a gasp of delight.
Jenny’s burning need to orgasm guided her hand to her clitoris. Each swift motion of her slender fingers over her love button sent a jolt of erotic joy through her body. Eric stared at her beautiful face with its furrowed brows and open mouth. His constant pounding of her soaked pussy and the sensations rippling from her clit brought her to the brink of her peak.
With a single perfect thrust of his stiff cock, Eric sent Jenny over the edge. Her head jerked back, her body convulsed, and a scream resonated through the room as Eric watched in awe, her shuddering vagina clinging to his pulsing manhood. Waves of intense bliss ripped through her as she came. The incredible sights, sounds, and sensations of Jenny’s orgasm drove Eric’s cock deeper and harder into her, ready to fill her with another load.
“Eric,” She breathed as she came to rest on his throbbing dick. “That was… incredible.” A smile of contentment stole over her pretty face. Eric’s own lips echoed the sentiment while his eyes betrayed desperation.
“I wanna cum again,” Eric whispered.
Jenny wordlessly unsheathed Eric’s throbbing dick from inside her and dropped to her knees. The absence of her pussy around him let Eric’s fears of being caught resurface. But before he could speak, Jenny’s lips slid over his sensitive head and along the length of his cock. He cried out as she sucked gingerly on him, immersing him in the sweet succulence of her mouth. Fear turned to desperate anticipation as she looked up at him with big, beautiful, seductive eyes.
Eric’s half-closed eyes stared back at her as she bathed his dick with her warm saliva. She expertly ran her tongue along his shaft, tasting her own sweet juices. Soft moans caressed his dick as it filled her mouth and pushed against her throat. The vibrations of her vocal chords against his throbbing head caused Eric to grip the chair tightly. The stroking of her tongue along his dick pulled his cum along his shaft, and her insistent sucking begged him to release it.
An explosion of semen drenched Jenny’s warm mouth as Eric’s shouts of joy resounded in her ears. Surprised at the size of his load, she let his cock slip from her lips, stroking it hard and fast with her spit and his cum as lubricant. His body shook as he continued jetting over her nose and cheek.
Despite the amount of cum still in her mouth, Jenny shoved his dick inside again, letting him complete his orgasm over her tongue. Eric caught his breath as his exhausted cock fell from her mouth. As he studied her beautiful cum-soaked face, a loving smile graced her lips.
“Jenny,” He murmured.
Before he could continue, the sound of a key in the front door echoed like a gunshot through the room. Instantly, Jenny sprang to her feet, heading for the bathroom, grabbing her pants and underwear on the way.
Frantically, Eric pulled up his pants and fastened them, resuming a normal posture just as Nick staggered into the kitchen.
“I got the wine!” Nick shouted, waving a bottle-shaped paper bag. “Where’s Jenny?”
“In the bathroom,” Eric replied calmly, trying to keep his voice from trembling.
Nick placed the bottle on the kitchen table as Jimmy and Amy entered the room. Jimmy instantly grabbed another beer from the fridge.
“If I’m gonna be around this drunk,” Jimmy pointed to Nick, “I’m gonna need to be at least buzzed.”
Amy leaned against the kitchen counter and surveyed the various pots, pans, and plates.
Eric wondered if she could tell that Jenny hadn’t been cooking in their absence, but then assured himself he was just being paranoid.
Jenny emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, with a clean face, looking as if nothing had occurred.
Amy glanced from Jenny to Eric as the corner of her mouth curled slightly upward.
“Is everyone hungry?” Jenny asked as she scraped the contents of a pan onto five dinner plates.
“I’m starving, man,” Nick announced as he sat down at the table.
“I think you’ll like this, Eric,” Jenny suggested casually. “It’s a recipe passed down from my great-grandmother.”
“Oh?” Eric nonchalantly raised an eyebrow.
“She was from Spain,” Jenny informed him, while gathering forks and knives.
Eric’s lips drifted upward into a genuine smile.
The End
Good Night And Sweet Dreams
Clutz
My name is Karenna, and I’m a clutz.
I’ve been a clutz since I was a child. I fell so frequently my knees still bear the scars. After a while, my parents learned to ignore the thumps unless I started to cry. Which was seldom; I was usually too busy laughing at myself.
My first French kiss, I couldn’t figure out how to get my teeth out of the way. Poor guy’s tongue bled for an hour.
That was just a few days before I almost gave my best friend a black eye when I stretched without realizing she was behind me.
As I got older, my clutziness became more pronounced. The first time I undressed in front of W.J., my first true love, during my freshman year of college, my legs got tangled in my pants and I fell. Fortunately, I landed on him. He didn’t seem to mind.
He wasn’t too happy when he tried to teach me how to give a blowjob, though. “Just put your mouth on my dick and suck it like a popsicle,” he told me.
“But I bite popsicles,” I replied.
Since he was the same guy whose tongue I’d bitten, he chose to put the blowjob lessons off for a while.
Losing my virginity was an adventure and a half. The good Creator blessed me with what a friend of mine called “Superhymen”. Yep… the damn thing was steel-reinforced, I swear. W.J. tried for two years to break it. No luck. My pussy could have been used as a safe; no one could break in.
W.J. eventually gave up. I lost my virginity at age 20 to another guy. We started the evening with a game of strip poker, which ended when I tore my blouse trying to take it off. Fortunately, the rip was under one arm; I didn’t have to explain it to my mother when I got home.
Once my blouse was off, I finished undressing under the blanket on the guy’s bed. He lay down beside me and narrowly avoided getting my knee in his crotch. He chalked it up to me being nervous; he was unaware of my long history of clutziness.
He positioned himself on top of me and tried to penetrate. Superhymen struck again; several times, his cock just bounced right off. I was ready to either die of embarrassment or scream from sexual frustration when he finally managed, after half an hour of trying, to break right through. It hurt like hell at first, but only for a few seconds. And I managed to fuck him without causing any injuries.
I got older, got married, and had many minor incidents of clutziness. Nothing noteworthy, other than the night I almost broke my ex’s nose when he decided to try oral sex on me. That was partly due to his own clutziness, though. How many men in their thirties don’t know what a clit is? He licked and bit in all the wrong places, until I started to squirm because I wanted it over with, and then he zeroed in and caused actual pain. My knee came up, and his face was in the way… Good thing nasal blood washes out easily.
Years went by, and I got divorced. First time I fucked a guy after I left my ex, I was nervous as hell. Actually, I was nervous when he finger-fucked me in my front hall. Nervous to the point that I had to lean against the doorway to the living room. Unfortunately, I forgot about the picture hanging there. Having a wooden frame fall on your head can be a real mood-killer.
Several months later, I was dating another guy, J. He was absolutely gorgeous. When I talked to him, I was tongue-tied; when I was around him, I was clumsier than usual. The night we met, he had to catch me when I tripped over something on the floor of the bar we were at. Not that I minded having his arms around me.
Two weeks after that, we went on a date. The plan was to go bowling with some friends. On the way to the bowling alley, J dared me to give him a blowjob. I tried for about fifteen minutes to unbuckle his belt. Finally, he gave up and did it himself. With his cock free, I leaned across the center console and started sucking. “Watch the teeth!” he shouted.
Stupid teeth struck again. Sometimes I swear it would be better if I had dentures; then I could remove them when needed.
I did my best to suck without biting, until we got to the bowling alley. My neck was so stiff I could barely turn my head; leaning across a center console is not the most comfortable position for fellatio. At least not when you’re someone who can hurt yourself just by getting out of bed in the morning. (Hey, it wasn’t my fault my cat knocked an earring on the floor post-up and I stepped on it!)
Bowling was fun. Right up until I swung my arm back and dropped the ball. It rolled off behind me and hit J in the foot. “I think I’d better duck,” he said.
“Probably,” I agreed.
He didn’t duck, and my clutziness picked that night to be contagious. Somehow J pulled his groin while sending his bowling ball down the lane. He limped through the rest of the night while I tried to be supportive. Which was somewhat effective until we got back to his place and he asked for another blowjob. I leaned just wrong, and… well, let’s say he wasn’t up for any more action after that.
A couple weeks later, after J had recovered, we got together again. He wanted to be my first anal experience, which I was all for. We got into the action, including a little regular fucking followed by my sucking his cock, this time with no adverse effects. We got lubed up and he sat on the edge of the bed, telling me to lower my ass onto his cock.
I tried. I really did. But without being able to see, I wasn’t completely sure his cock was in the right place. Of course, I could have just asked him… But instead I kept trying to get his cock where it was supposed to be, until he let out a yelp. “Ouch!”
I quickly got off him. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing important. You just bent my cock in three places. It isn’t supposed to bend like that, you know.”
“At least I didn’t hurt your groin again,” I said.
“True. I’ll still be able to walk. And my cock will go back to its normal shape eventually.”
That wasn’t the only time we tried anal. The second time, he decided to use some kind of stuff that was supposed to numb the ass and therefore make it easier to penetrate. Unfortunately, it also numbed his cock.
But the crowning clutz event in my life was at a party some friends held at a bar. I love to dance, especially to certain songs. I was on the dance floor with a group of other women, getting my groove on, when my feet, encased in a brand new pair of slightly slippery shoes, went right out from under me. I ended up flat on my ass with a concerned group of friends around me, asking if I was okay, while I laughed hysterically.
The End
The Postman Rang Twice
Ten years after we began our joint venture, my brother, Alicia and I, after downing the better part of a bottle of Jack Daniels, reviewed the lot in life we’d dealt ourselves. Michael seemed content enough, modeling for and promoting our project, doing the accounting, driving the motor home and letting Alicia collect his sperm. I was content enough screwing all those generous Johns and Janes, filming the proceedings and then producing all those, ever-so-profitable videos. Last but by no means least, Alicia seemed quite content with keeping us all slim and fit through her aerobic workouts and healthy cooking. Collecting fresh sperm by fucking Mike or jerking him off into condoms every evening never seemed to be a problem for her. Inseminating those hundreds of women with Mike’s collected sperm never seemed to bother her. Most important of all, every new morning and after every video taping session, Alicia faithfully and lovingly massaged all the stiffness, soreness and discomfort out of my joints, muscles and my pussy. Life indeed was good for us all!
Michael and I congratulated Alicia once more for being the inspiration for our devil-may-care life style. That being said, I asked her what event in her former life prompted her to originate such a game plan for the three of us, to which Alicia confessed it was all brought on by a scene in the 1980’s remake of “The Postman Always Rings Twice” movie. Alicia got a video from her drawer, slipped it into the VCR then poured herself another glass of booze.
When a particularly steamy love scene passed before our eyes, Alicia paused the VCR and began the following oration:
“I tried to watch this film once about 24 years ago and don’t remember what the rest of this movie is about. I saw it at a drive-in-theater the year I worked a lumber camp in Montana. I worked there as a physiotherapist and nutritionist at the camp right out of college, feeding the crew and looking after their aches and pains. It was pretty isolated out there and other than the camp foreman, I was alone most of the time. Over the early spring I got pretty chummy with the Forestry supervisor. Roger was an outdoorsy powerhouse of a man who, given the lack of amiable companions out in the bush, loved me up strongly and was about the best thing up there in my young eyes, at least.”
“One crazy weekend in late spring, we got married over in Reno during one of his many drunken gambling sessions. As spring turned into summer his preoccupation with gambling and boozing started to get the better of me. So one Friday night I took the two young first year Forestry students who’d been helping out into Jackson to shop while the main crew was out fire-fighting in the bush.”
“The next afternoon as Roger prepared the booze and snacks for his weekly game, I was thoroughly pissed off with him, so I offered to drive the two nineteen year old college lads into town for something to do. Not wanting to be ridiculed by the “good-old-boys,” who’d been fighting fires while the boys were marking trails, the boys offered to pay my way if I’d take them to a drive-in movie.”
“I sat back in the middle of the center seat of the old Suburban while the guys relaxed in the front bucket seats as “The Postman Always Rings Twice” lit up the screen. In one scene, Jack Nicholson lifted Jessica Lange up onto the food preparation table she’d been rolling pastry on. Jack pushed her back, shoved up her skirt then planted his thick finger firmly into the crotch of her beige nylon panties! While kissing her roughly and forcefully, flour flew and Jessica cussed as Jack unzipped then hooked his thumb into the crotch of her frilly panties and pulled them out of the way! She moaned like a cat in heat as he rammed it into her!”
“At that point I grumbled under my breath that nothing like that ever happens to me anymore. I guess my breathing might have got a little labored as I undulated my hips a little. As I secretly squeezed and pulled my nipples, I didn’t notice Todd’s head slowly swivel around until his eyes glanced down then immediately shot up to meet mine!”
“I tapped Dan on the shoulder, gave him ten bucks and told him to get popcorn, some drinks and a couple chocolate bars for me from the concession stand. As soon as Dan exited the truck, I lifted up the hem of my skirt to show off my panties. I spread my legs and asked Todd if he’d like to rub my cunt and kiss me like Jack did to Jessica. Todd obediently climbed into the middle seat beside me. I stretched my feet up onto the top of the big old console between the front seats. He kissed me roughly and rubbed my crotch delightfully, exactly as he’d seen on the big screen. I unzipped his fly, thrust my hand inside and began to knead his growing penis ever so hard.”
“By the time Danny opened the front door with the refreshments, I’d flipped down the rear seat back to produce a tabletop, sort of like the one in the love scene. Todd had pulled the crotch of my panties out of the way, was kneeling on the floor and was fucking me like a man possessed! Danny spun around in the driver’s seat to watch the action at the back of Roger’s truck. After Danny and I made eye contact, I smiled saucily and sent air kisses back to him. When Todd ejaculated and pulled back from me panting, I asked Dan if he’d like to try out Jack’s moves on me as well. As I adjusted back the crotch of my panties, the lads traded places.”
“As Todd helped himself to the refreshments, Danny thumbed in my panties, saturating their crotch with Todd’s seeping semen. I unzipped Dan’s fly, navigated his throbbing penis out through his boxer shorts then expertly massaged its head purple and shiny. Dan awkwardly tried to get my boobs out but I pushed him away scolding, “Not here you fool! Take a look around us. People beside us are already watching the rocking!”
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