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Orphan Annie's First Adventure
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 1st Adventure>>>>>
This last weekend was a surprise for me, the first time I'd "done"
a married man (though god knows I've looked at 'em in the past!). When
it was all through, though, he could say he'd still been (mostly)
faithful.
I threw this small party for a dozen or so friends Friday night,
sort of a kickoff for the July 4 weekend. John came up from The City,
on his way to the Sierras for a weekend's backpacking, something his
wife never really liked. I think she went home to mother, or somesuch.
Anyhow, the party went late, and when it was breaking up, John asked if
he could stay on the sleeper in the living room, rather than try to
drive on at night to a dark campground. I said sure.
John and I made up the sleeper and then I went to take a shower.
When I came out, in my robe, he was in the bed and reading. I said
goodnight and turned to head for my bedroom when he made some funny
comment about what he'd just read. I laughed too, and went over to see
more. When he showed me the article, I recognized it and we started
talking. I was soon sitting on the side of his bed, listening and
watching. As I looked I realized what a real cutie he really was--all
that dark hair, the strong shoulders (all I could see of his body),
and those great teeth that showed when he smiled. I got to thinking
what a great find his wife had. Then, somehow, he made some gesture
and his hand ended up on my leg--and I really don't know how to explain
this, but my hand suddenly went there on top of his. He looked at me
funny and gave me a gentle squeeze as he tried to pull away, which I
returned. He smiled and said, "Ann, I can't. Really." You know, The
Speech.
I just murmured and bent down to kiss him. Of course, the robe
fell open and of course his hand went inside it and about halfway
through the kiss I knew we were in trouble. We sort of stayed that
way for a while and then I moved my legs up onto the bed. His hand
went from my side to my back, and his other hand went to my butt,
stroking it gently. I pulled the covers from under me and ran my
hand down his chest and across his stomach. He was so strong, too! I
nibbled on his ear and he just moaned.
Well, this was fun and all that, but he was right, he WAS (I mean,
"is") married, after all. His hand was now on my breast and I was
going to have to decide something, soon. I made a decision, sat up,
and then swung my leg over to straddle him. He looked disappointed as
I sat up, and then delighted as I moved my leg across his body. He was
on his back and I was sitting across his thighs.
Now he could put both hands on my breasts. He was so strong, and
yet so gentle! His hands just sort of came up my rib cage and stroked
my breasts from underneath to the nipple. I found I could sort of sag
into his palms. I grabbed his cock and began to stroke it, and then
every once in a while, needing a little oral contact, I bent down and
kissed him or let him suck my tits. I was warm all over and every part
of him I touched was warm, too.
Then his hand went around and began to play with my butt again.
I lifted myself up and moved up until I was directly above his cock.
I was really wet by now and could feel my cum running out. I set my
pussy on his balls and just stroked it up his shaft. Up, lift, back
down, again and again. His cock was really getting wet! He just
moaned, and then moved his hand to grab both my cheeks. He tried to
move me just that bit farther up to where he could slide in, and I
really wanted to, but I knew things would be different tomorrow and
next week. "No," I said, "but wait." He was getting even longer and
really throbbing!
His hand began alternating from my breasts to my butt. His legs
went up and then down, and I could feel his pelvis thrusting in time to
my stroking. His eyes were squeezed shut and that great smile of his
was all across his face!
I could feel myself throbbing, too. I was working up a sweat (I
almost laughed out loud when I realized I'd now need ANOTHER shower!)
but he felt so good beneath me I couldn't stop. My clit was bumping
the top of his cock every time I slid up there and I was just about out
of control until---THERE!---and there again!---and again!--I was coming
and the contractions just wouldn't stop. I collapsed onto him, with my
legs wrapped around his thighs and my feet tucked between his calves,
my breasts crushed against his chest, and his hands stroking my butt
and my back. I really don't think he came, but he was looking really
good! Besides, it was too wet down there to really tell in the half
light.
I would have loved to stay all night. But, like I said, he was
married and it just wouldn't do to have SLEPT with him. After a few
moments I tore myself away and staggered back to my bed, firmly and
quietly shutting the door behind me (no ideas, John!).
I was asleep almost before I was in my own bed (cold sheets!).
When I awoke, it was late Sunday morning and John was gone. He'd
stripped the bed and left a pile of musky-smelling sheets. I'm sure
he had to hike a few extra miles to get me out of his system!
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 2nd Adventure>>>>>
I don't know about for all of you down in the chilly Bay Area,
but up here the weather was really nice Saturday. So nice, in fact,
that it encouraged me to engage in another of my exploits. Not
that I planned it, of course.
I packed a lunch and headed for the river, the afternoon being
just too hot, even for mint juleps in the back yard. There was some
barbecued chicken and a couple of Calistogas in the fridge, so I
threw them into the cooler with some ice, pulled on a swimsuit and
covered it with some other clothes, grabbed a towel and a book, and
left.
I have this favorite unnamed spot by the river, sandy but not
too populated. You have to know the river roads to find it and I
guess that even though it's a pretty good beach not too many people
know about it. That's an advantage of being a local. When I parked I
knew by the absence of other cars that there were very few other
people there, and when I walked onto the beach I found one couple near
the trail back to the cars, another couple far down the beach, and
this one guy about halfway down. I'm not terribly shy, and decided to
have a bit of fun.
He saw me coming and I saw him looking me over. I'm not Fawn
Hall, but I get my share of admiring looks; this was apparently
one of them. As I walked towards the guy I could see he was worthy
of some admiring looks himself: he was young (maybe 23--I never
did find out), trim, nicely groomed and not too hairy. He also
wasn't pasty white--you know, the way some guys get who spend too
much time at a VDT. So I just set my things down sort of near him,
but not right next to him, just to see how he'd react. I stood with
my back to him as I pulled off my shirt, being sure to stretch my back
as I did so. I also made sure that as I spread the towel out I was
facing him, so that when I bent down he could see my tits (not the
swimsuit doesn't gap THAT much, but he had a nice view of what little
there is!). I pretended to accidentally pull down my swimsuit bottom
a bit as I pulled off my shorts. Then I laid down and reached for
the sunscreen.
The sunscreen makes me glisten, though I was already
beginning to do so just from the sun's heat. I spread it all over,
being sure to let him see how I tucked it under my top and massaged
my inner thighs. I lifted first one leg and then the other (a little
Jane Fonda workout, here!) as I did the backs of the calves.
Just as I was finishing my front, my audience got up from his
chair and walked over--a bit stiffly, as he was trying to hide a
nice erection. His buns hardly wiggled as he walked--a real nice
ass. He offered to put the oil on my back (men are SO predictible!).
Well, I thought I'd let that one linger a bit as I opened a Calistoga
and gave it a nice suck, and then found out his name was Bill, that he
had gone to the same JC as I, and that he was indeed a few years
younger than me. I handed him the oil and flipped over onto my
stomach. I reached behind and undid the knot at my back and asked him
to go ahead.
Bill has done this before--he warmed the oil in his hands, and
started rubbing it in smoothly at first, then later kneading the
muscles. I always appreciate experienced men! He stared at the
center of my back, worked his way up to my shoulders, and then came
down my sides. I let him feel a bit of my breasts, but just the sides.
He worked down to the waistline and then started on my thighs. He was
giving me nice, long, slippery strokes, as he worked his hand up to
my butt. He paid a lot of attention there, sliding his hand beneath
the suit more than once and more than a little distance. He was
enjoying this as much as I, though it WAS getting to be a bit more
than I'd first planned.
We had been talking but soon that degenerated into a series of
murmurs as I just relaxed in the warm sun massaged by warm, knowing
hands with warm oil. I would have fallen asleep except that my butt is
a very sensual place and I think Bill was beginning to discover that.
Eventually, I reached for my waistband and simply lifted my butt enough
to push the bottom of my suit down a bit; he pulled it the rest of the
way off and finished massaging and oiling all of my bottom. After
awhile he sat across the top of my things and began to work my back
again, but this time very clearly he was reaching around to my front to
my nipples. Then he simply lay down on my back and I could feel his
very hard cock nestled into my crack; it felt fine!
I opened my eyes and the other couples were not watching us at
all. I had Bill push up for a moment and I rolled over to take him
into my arms. He kissed me gently and I used my lips to nibble his.
My legs were together but his cock felt just fine, resting just above
my clit, very clearly a situation we both wanted to do something about.
My shirt comes to just below my butt, so I had him reach for it
and we took a walk over to a nearby grove of willows. You can imagine
the rest. After we were through, it was getting to be late afternoon
and I let him go--I don't think he ever learned my name, and I don't
know his last name. But that beach'll never be the same, and the
willows are now named the "Mr. Bill Memorial Grove"--at least by me.
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 3rd Adventure>>>>>
When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn. Beside me,
the bed was empty, warm but empty. I rolled over, sleepily still, in
search of the wonderful man who had brought me here last night, and
he was gone. I discovered as I came to that hugging the pillow
instead simply wasn't solace enough, and I opened my eyes to look for
him.
The room was just beginning to warm--there was a soft breeze
coming through the windows and the lace curtains sighed gently. Going
to be another hot day, I thought, but where's Larry? I listened, and
there wasn't a sound. Just the warmth and the musky scent of the
sheets.
This wouldn't do! I'm not even sure where this apartment is, I've
no car, here it is 6:00 or some ungodly hour Sunday morning, and I'm
alone in a strange bed. Well, not totally strange...the champagne
bottle in the bucket looked familiar...
Then I heard a rasp from just outside the window, on the porch,
and saw the shadows change. Larry? or a cat? I reluctantly abandoned
the warmth of the covers and fumbled for a robe I remembered being
somewhere in the bedroom. A very light, full length cotton number, but
enough so that at least I could step outside and be seen as decent.
Wanton, perhaps, but decently dressed.
There was Larry, dressed in a pair of boxers only. Gorgeous,
muscular legs came out the bottom, and this very well-built chest was
above. On top, an aquiline face was squinting at the sunrise. I
stepped behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Watcha thinking,
Larry?" "Dunno, just seemed the thing to do right now." "Wanna come
back to bed with me? Are you waiting for anything?" "Naw, just maybe
the sunrise." "Can I wait with you?" "Sure, let's sit on the sofa."
With that, we sort of fell onto an old, white wicker loveseat he
had on the porch. I curled up, head on his lap, and began to drift off
to sleep again. His hand went to my waist and I waited for the sun to
warm us.
The sun was a long time coming, and I curled up even tighter. His
hand went to my butt and sort of snuggled me into a comfortable
position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure.
In a few minutes, though, he was moving again. "Coffee?" "Uh,
sure, so early?" "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!" He was
gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard the pots rattling. It
wasn't yet really warm, so when he came back I must've jumped right
onto him. I was sitting across his legs, cupping the coffee cup and
lazing against his shoulder with my legs pulled up close.
"Larry, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up first."
"Larry, it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you ever awakened
already linked to someone?" He shrugged, but I noted that the boxers
had a new bulge in them. I put my hand there and confirmed that it
wasn't just he fold of the fabric.
"Larry, it feels to me like you're ready now." I was whispering,
but don't know why. No one on the block was stirring. We had the
world to ourselves. His fly was gaping, so I slipped my hand inside;
Larry put his cup down and then took mine away from me. "Here?" he
said. "Sure," I purred.
He took his hand from my waist and moved it to my breast, but
outside the robe. My other hand was pinned against his chest, so
I had to release his manhood to move his hand inside the robe. He
was beginning to get the idea! I felt a warm, coarse hand gently
massage my left boob, then brush the nipple, then cup me like the
balmy Sunday morning this was. He wasn't rushing things, and neither
was I.
I looked up from my chest and saw him smiling at me. I leaned
over and gave him the first kiss of the morning. Gentle, not even
probing, just a kiss. He returned it the same way. "Larry?" "Mmmm?"
"The champagne would have been better than the coffee..." "OK, I'll
remember. You didn't get too wired yet, did you?" "Lemme show you.
Come here." A gentle squeeze and I had his full attention, his mind
and his heart following, as the expression goes.
In fact, all I ever really wanted was a thousand percent of his
attention. I really get jealous Sunday mornings. Jealous of the rest
of the day, jealous of the telephone, jealous even of the sunrise.
Mornings are meant for me and a friend, with no interruptions. I
think he was beginning to understand, but I had to know.
"Why'd you get up so early?" "I'm not used to someone who sleeps
like you...it felt too good...has anyone ever told you how easy it is
to share a bed with you? And I don't mean just sexually--just that you
snuggle right in and at the same time don't push. I'm not used to that,
and I guess I'm afraid of losing it." "Larry, I'm here now. Tomorrow
is tomorrow; even this afternoon is later. Right now, I'm here. I want
you to be, too." He was caressing my nipple, now, and I was squeezing
him every once in a while, just to remind him how very "there" I was.
Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears. I tried
again, a bit of a stretch for my neck from where I was sitting, but
he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got the same reaction.
Gee, was Larry's middle name Pavlov? I stretched my legs out onto the
sofa, and let the robe gap. When he opened his eyes, the first thing
he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my breast to touch them. Here,
too, he was gentle, just stroking them at first, then slowly parting
them as he moved up the inside from my calves. I just watched his
eyes, as they darted from my face to his hand and back again. He
kissed me again, and I returned it in French. As my tongue went
into his mouth, his hand found my pussy for the fist time that
morning. Ah, timing is everything!
I let his fingers move up and down my lips, searching gently,
probing softly, for an opening. My mouth played with his lips, and my
hand by now was stroking his cock to its full height. I shifted so my
hips would be right next to his balls, and my hand on his shaft also
rubbing his stomach.
I could feel him rustling around in my fur. I was still a very
little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry! He soon found
the source of all the moisture and his fingers just swam through it. I
pulled his head down and let him know it was time for some tongue work.
It was leisurely at first, and then he got adventuresome. Just as his
head almost wholly disappeared under the robe the day's first car drove
down the street, stopping at the stopsign just across the road. What
are these people doing here?
Time to go inside. I pulled the robe together and stood up. For
Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it inside
without anyone calling the rectitude enforcers.
He climbed on the bed first and turned to me as I just stood there
and waited. He beckoned and I put a knee up, allowing him to grab
my thigh and the small of my back. I let him kiss my mouth, then
down my throat and chest until the robe fell open and I let it slide to
the floor. Larry pulled me up onto the bed and then kept going,
kissing first each breast, then my belly, and then burying himself
in my forest. My god, he was good! His tongue found and then
circled my clit. It found and probed my secret tunnel. He ran down
the smooth insides of my thighs and made me tingle from there to the
top of my head. I was on my back, his hands underneath my butt, his
head between my legs. I could just reach the back of his head with my
hands, but soon gave that up to hold my own breasts -- I though I was
going to explode if I didn't!
His tongue was bobbing up and down--my back was arching in time
with his tongue. I was sopping wet down my butt and all over the tops
of my thighs. We were going to have to roll over soon so he could get
what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot!
Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting. I rolled him over
and kissed him, then straddled him. I really like the penetration
I get this way, and after last night I wanted to try this, too, with
him. I mounted him, and felt him push the muscles aside as he
entered. Gently at first, for his shaft wasn't totally wet and
some of my contractions had already started. His hands went to my
breasts and he was just playing with the nipples; I had never seen
them so long! And I just kept finding more and more length to him,
too--I could feel him deep inside, now, I thought he'd have to push
my cervix out of the way! I pulled up a bit, and then down again:
he nested a bit better, and got better still the time after that!
Clearly, a bit of practice and we'd really make a team!
I moved his hands to my butt, and had him stroke me there for
a change. He pulled and pushed at it, and got himself adjusted
even deeper into me. He was concentrating on me so much he was
drooling! This is the kind of attention I wanted!
We began to get our rhythm together. It's exercise like this that
keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it! He tried to follow me as I
pulled up and then down, and each time the friction just warmed me all
that much more. I could feel myself wrapping around him, the way I do
just before a really big orgasm, and the tension was marvelous!
Then, about two strokes before I expected it, I came. It made me
start bucking up and down like a thing possessed (probably was!), and
about halfway through I could feel him begin to spurt; for a while I
wondered if he'd ever stop. Not just once. Not merely three times.
Each time I could feel the moisture practically slam up into me. He
just kept coming, and I thought I'd drained him last night after all
his exuberant pumping then!
I fell to my side, he still inside. He curled up next to me, and
we dozed. Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I think that's
what woke me. I shook him gently, and as he came around I had this big
smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on my mind. "Now, Larry, isn't
that better than coffee Sunday morning?"
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 4th Adventure>>>>>
Larry gave me the robe. It was lightweight and cool, just what
was needed when the nights never really cool down. I noticed
that when I pulled it snug it showed off my nipples, but I really
think Larry liked it because when it gaped, it gave him just that
little bit of cleavage that men find so much more exciting. I
liked it, though, because it smelled of Larry, who much to my pleasure
was turning out to be a regular.
Since I would be away for almost a week, I took the robe just
to remind me of him. I was running this convention--well, part of it-
-and hotel living is supposed to be a bit more modest than tromping
around the house with nothing on. Not, mind you, that I expected to
have any real time to socialize, since it was going to be a series of
18-hour days.
Well, there WAS going to be this ONE dance, the second
night. I at least would have enough time--if I wasn't already
exhausted from two days of work AND a day of preparation--to try out
the floor. The band was going to be halfway decent, so this one
respite was coveted just a little.
Have you ever noticed how when you're content with things on the
home front is when you get some REALLY interesting attention? I know
men complain about it, saying that just when they're relaxed with
one woman is when they really get hit on, and I know there's something
to that, because when they're self-assured (or maybe just assured
of pussy?) they're just that much more attractive (there's this
other theory, which says that since they're involved elsewhere it's
safe to fool around with them; maybe that's true, too). Well, I
was pretty comfortable with Larry, seriously had no plans to
fool around (not out of commitment, out of contentment), and I was
attracting an unusual amount of attention.
This older guy, not fat and horny like the stereotyped out-of-
town salesman, but trim, gray, cultivated, and probably about 50,
didn't say much but kept his presence known. He was just frequently
around, and more than once I caught him just looking at me...not
STARING like the psychotics, just an appreciative glance. None of
my coworkers knew him, and he wasn't ALWAYS around, so I just put
it down as nothing unusual. I had his nametag checked out ("L. K.
Kendricks"), and he was a rep from some obscure manufactory back in
the Ohio Valley, certainly no one I'd know. And certainly no one I'd
go out of my way to meet.
I did go to the dance. Some of my coworkers had to drag me away
from reworking (admittedly, for the THIRD time) the
preparations for the next day's activities, but I did go. I
thought I'd have a couple of drinks and chat it up with them. Some
had their husbands, and one or two had found someone at the
convention. What ended up is that we got a table near the rear (like
I said, it took a while to get me out, so we were late) and before I
knew it I was abandoned there. The girls talked for only a few
minutes, then dragging their guys out onto the floor they had left me
nursing a scotch. I was a little tired and the scotch only
accentuated it; before long I was thinking about things long ago and
far away.
The reverie was interrupted by this rich tenor "Good
evening." It was old LK, "Lawrence Knight" it turns out to be,
another Larry. Deja vu I was not prepared to deal with tonight, but
I couldn't just give a cold brush off to a kindly
introduction. I got permission to call him "LK"--he winced when he
said OK, but I couldn't stand the idea of "Larry II." He wasn't
merely a sales rep; he was in engineering and there was some new
process here he was checking out; he had done his job, in fact, and
was leaving next noon though our "show" had another three days to
run. He was efficient and professional. More importantly, though,
he was generous, getting me to talk and, soon, even laugh. I
switched from scotch to Calistoga and before long we, too, were on the
dance floor.
LK was a good dancer but didn't make me feel like the klutz I
know I am. When we were dancing apart he'd flash this smile that was
becoming quite charming, and when we were dancing close he kept me
smiling with a few bon mots. I was soon laughing as he'd point out
someone on the floor and give a complete description, based
entirely on their appearance, as to where they lived, what they were
here for (professionally AND otherwise), and what they were like at
home. It was hilarious: he'd start talking about another person,
then spin me around so I could see over his shoulder while from memory
alone he spun this incredible web of fact and fantasy that fit like a
wet T-shirt. And he moved so gracefully, I could feel through his
jacket he was fit without being rough; he was certainly easy going
enough.
When we took a break I got these sly, "I told you so"
glances from my friends. What could I say, they had me! When I
explained it to LK, he sort of smiled, and said he'd come to the dance
just to see if he could meet me, and I did feel flattered.
When we were back on the floor, I told him I had to be back
reviewing preparations early the next morning. It wasn't late, but
I was really enjoying this and I'd let it GET late if I didn't
extract soon. LK sort of frowned, but let it go at that. He said he
could tell I was tense and tired, more relaxed than an hour ago, but
still tense and tired. Well, thanks a lot, guy (but it was all
true)! He'd say goodnight, then. By the way, though, would I have a
break tomorrow morning and could I come by his room before he left?
1402? Well, I'd see. With a small kiss on his cheek I grabbed my
purse and left.
But back in the room the bed (a HUGE king size number--god, what
was the hotel expecting, a menage a quatorze?) looked
particularly lonely. Sure, Larry would have been great, but Larry
was not here and Larry was--well, not permanent. Maybe, though, his
robe would make me feel better--no, in fact the smell just made it
worse. Calistoga or not, two scotches (were they doubles?) had
gone to my head and I was alone, lonely, and getting horny (it
had, after all, been three days!). I rang 1402, then hung up when
LK answered; he was there. And he was leaving tomorrow; this, too,
would not be permanent.
I put on the robe and not much else, put in a diaphragm, and went
for a massage. I figured there had to be a great masseuse in 1402.
When he answered the door LK was still dressed, though out of his
jacket. He'd been sorting through his briefcase, and I could see that
my arrival was an unexpected brightener for his evening. As I asked
if the masseuse was still in I saw his eyes glance down to my
chest and it didn't take long to get an affirmative answer.
First, though, he showed me around--probably just to
convince me there was no one else there, and that there had been no
one else. Not that I cared, for he'd made his availability very
clear. I handed him a bottle of baby oil (all I could find--I really
hadn't been expecting a need for the scented stuff). Larry--no, LK--
took me to the bed and helped me out of the robe. He didn't grab for
my tits right away, a little touch of class there, and had me lie on
my stomach. He sat beside me and slowly opened the bottle as he
talked about how my work reflected my self-confidence and how he
really disliked mousey women. Then he stopped, rolling up his sleeves
as sort of an afterthought; it took me a moment to realize the pause
was just him caring for his clothes. He began to rub the baby oil over
my back while talking about how good my back looked. The man was class
all the way--he dressed well, he talked well, he kept after himself,
and he made me feel really appreciated. Just what the doctor ordered.
He finished my back (a few tough spots he worked out so
gently I hardly knew they'd ever been there!) and started down my arms,
stretched out over my head. I opened my eyes and saw him really
throwing his body into it. A little music? Sure, and he found a soft
jazz station. When he came back I lifted my arm up and rolled over
just enough to pull off his bow tie (NOT a clip-on job!) and undo the
studs on his tux shirt. Then I just fell back onto the bed and let
him finish my arms.
I told him my butt was special--I'm really aroused by
contact there and I wanted him to take some care. As I helped him
slip the panties off, he said not to worry. The man was at once
gentle and generous with his attention. By the time he'd finished
and started down my thighs I was really squirming. I wouldn't even
let him finish my calves, I was really ready for him.
I rolled over and reached up to his shirt, pulling it
quickly off. I sat up and reached for his trousers, startling him
with my speed. He slid his shoes off as I undid the fasteners
and with the suspenders down they just dropped to the floor. I
laughed when I saw the polka-dot boxers, but everybody's got a
quirk, somewhere! When he figured out what was so funny he joined in;
at least I'd had the smarts not to laugh and point!
He climbed on the bed and we took each other in our arms.
First a tentative kiss and then a longer, deeper, exploratory one.
I put my leg over his, and felt the hair on his leg awaken every
nerve on the inside of my thigh. His hands moved from my back to my
side to my boobs, and then his mouth went from my lips to my throat
to my nipples. I lay back and felt this almost primal suction
bring me to full alertness. His lips and tongue worked my nipples,
and his hands worked my breasts. My mouth was open and I was gasping,
already.
Then, soon, too soon (don't stop!) he was continuing down. His
tongue explored my navel and that made my legs start sliding up and
down on the bed. His hand came up between my legs and cupped my
mound, gently, then squeezing firmly, and then a finger started
exploring. His mouth was kissing my entire abdomen and soon his
middle finger was sliding up deep inside me. He brought his mouth
down and his tongue played my clit for a while, then replaced his
finger. God, such a tongue!
I had to return the favor. I pulled him up and then rolled him
over onto his back. I slid one hand underneath his waistband and found
what I'd been looking for and then with the other just pulled the
waistband down. It was gorgeous--erect, waving in the air, all pink
and throbbing. I kissed the tip, then the shaft. I licked the shaft
and massaged the tip. It was getting wet on its own and I had my
first taste of this man's love juices, something I always find hard
to resist. I took him into my mouth and started sucking and
massaging, my lips running up and down his length as I took him all
the way back in my throat. My head was bobbing up and down, my
breasts were brushing his thighs, one hand had his balls and the other
was rubbing his chest. It was a one-man band and he was making great
music!
He had me stop and I couldn't figure why--I was really
getting going. Then I understood, as he turned around and put his
head between my legs. Again, this fantastic tongue worked all over
my mound, inside and out. I had him almost swallowed and was feeling
great. We must have gone on that way for twenty or thirty minutes,
and I remember coming at least three times.
But he stayed with me--I'd never had a guy stay up after so much
stimulation. Is this what you get with older men? His attention
to me told me he was still part of my team, so I guess this was just a
virtue of experience. But after three orgasms I really wanted him
inside and we'd find out just what he was really made of. I let go
and turned around--now both of us had our feet at the head of the bed.
I took him in the traditional method, as his weight fell right
on me and he'd probably be able to pump just that much better. I
was right, for he slid right in and began a rhythm that had me coming
again and again almost immediately. Soon, his face screwed up and
his breathing changed and suddenly he was spurting these fabulous
warm gobs all the way up through me. I was writhing and must then
have passed out, between the pleasure and the scotch. I've NEVER done
that before!
I wasn't out long, because the next thing I knew he was
slowly pulling out. Ohhhhhhhhhh. His smile was right next to mine
and with a last kiss I just rolled into him and went to sleep. I
vaguely remember him turning me around on the bed and his pulling
the covers up and over us, and I clearly remember getting my leg and
arm over him, but until he woke me gently at 6:00 (god, I could have
slept till 9:00, and missed everything! what a wonderful guy) I don't
remember a thing.
We had a little quickie and then I stumbled off to my room. God,
I could hardly walk! First Larry I and now Larry II. There has to be
something in that name!
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 5th Adventure>>>>>
Even though we'd stopped going out a year ago, I was still
curious about Norman. He'd always been intriguing, he'd always made
me laugh and smile, and I remember his being dynamite in bed. But
he'd gotten serious about another girl (god, don't you hate to compete
with 18-year olds? and I'm not sure she was even 18) and without
much ado I'd just made myself scarce. No big scene a year ago, but
I wasn't going to be merely an irregular Thursday-night diversion for
him!
But then just last week someone had mentioned him in
passing, in the single mode. It wasn't "Norman and Chris," but
merely "Norman." So I called, and knew as soon as he answered I'd
got myself wrapped up again. I loved just hearing his voice. He was
delighted, even over the phone he made me smile, and we eagerly set a
date for a movie Friday evening. I would come over to his place,
and I knew there was already a good chance I wouldn't leave until
Saturday or even Sunday.
When I arrived I presented him with a bottle of wine and a very
sensual kiss. I'd dressed in tight jeans and a thin crepe blouse,
and I could feel his hands warmly embrace me right through the
fabric. We decided to start the wine--so it could breathe for later,
of course--before leaving for the theater. I stood right next to him
as he maneuvered the cork out, so he'd catch the perfume I'd worn for
him; I know I was close enough to feel the warmth of his body
without even touching him. We toasted our good fortune and then
left hand-in-hand; during the drive over I kept my hand on his leg
and he was most terribly distracted. You give men just the hint of
sex and they go to pieces on you!
In the theater I pulled his hand over to my leg as soon as the
lights dimmed. I held it down firmly as he massaged my thigh and then
slid up to cup my mound. He gently rubbed me so that I could tell he
hadn't forgotten a thing. My legs were spread wide apart and I held
his wrist in close to me. Pretty soon my breath was getting shorter
and shorter and I had to make him stop. My sigh of relief was almost
audible, for I was about to come right there!
Then it was my turn. I reached down between his legs and
grabbed his balls. I could slide my hand up his shaft and back down
again, and even through the heavy fabric of his jeans could feel him
thick and throbbing. I kept that up for a half hour or so, and had
to quit when my arm was so tired from the contorted position that my
only other choice would have been to drop down on my knees between
his legs; it was a hard (!) choice, but the theater was too crowded to
do something obvious like that.
So I squeezed his thigh, let go, and sat back in the chair,
resting while trying to catch up on the plot I'd been ignoring. He
put his arm around my shoulder just as the movie began to shift to
the romantic part of the adventure. Inspiration to Norman! He
let his hand drop down my front and squeezed my breast. I had
only a slender, thin bra on beneath the crepe so that I could feel
every one of his fingers caress me, and in a very few moments my
nipples were quite erect. He reached over and undid a button on my
blouse and slipped his hand inside. I was so hot I was surprised
there wasn't steam coming out, and the warmth of his hand just
reflected right back onto my chest. Audacious as ever, Norman
then proceeded not merely to cup my breast, but there in the theater
to slide his hand beneath the bra cup and directly stimulate my
nipple. I was about to come right there, once again! The sexual
tension was so high I had to grab the armrests to keep from jumping him
there in the seat!
Thankfully, the movie soon ended and we emerged into some
surprisingly cold night air. Well, the whole world was cold
compared to us! We went to get a bite to eat, where he and I
played a marvelous game of footsie. The wine didn't at all
measure up, though, so we rushed home to where we had something worth
our attention(!).
Norman lit a fire while I freshened up (and put in a
diaphragm!). When I returned to the living room he had two
glasses, the wine and some pillows all arranged in front of the
fireplace. I bent over and kissed him as he handed me a glass, and
rubbed his chest. He grabbed my calf in reply while I sipped the
wine. What a smooth, sensual bouquet! A good beginning to this part
of the evening, for sure!
Then we stretched out before the fire and kissed. Gently at
first, our lips just sort of nibbling on each other. Then we drew
each other closer and really explored mouths. He put his glass down
and began again on my blouse's buttons, and I likewise started in on
his shirt. I soon was rubbing my hands all over his hairy chest,
kissing his neck and tongueing his ears, and he was fumbling with the
front closure of my bra. Once he had it open I rolled him onto his
back, pushed his hands away from my tits and rubbed my chest directly
over his. I was so horny now! With his arms pinned to the floor I
wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed there, then ground my
pelvis against his. He closed his eyes and just took it like a man!
When I let his hands go they went for my butt and began to
massage it firmly, exploring all of it from my waist to the tops of my
thighs, and as he held me down I could feel him growing and throbbing
beneath his zipper. I lifted up and began to pull his zipper down,
soon exposing his shorts and then opening his pants all the way so I
could reach inside. What a find!
He was moist, and warm, and full of fun there! I soon moved my
mouth's attentions there and took him fully between my lips. He was
tasty, too. I started sucking, kissing, and squeezing him, all the
while my hand cupping and massaging his balls. In a very short while
his hips were moving up and down in rhythm with my mouth and I knew
he wouldn't be long in coming. When the spurts came I was
swallowing it all and kept sucking even after he had collapsed.
After a brief recovery, he pulled me up to face him. I first
maneuvered his pants the rest of the way off, and then he began to
work on my belt. He had this great smile on his face that made me
let him do to me whatever he wanted! Soon, my jeans joined his in a
pile and his face was down between my legs, his hands on my breasts.
His tongue explored all the crevices and folds of my labia and soon I
was rubbing my mound up and down his face, getting him thoroughly wet.
In a last spasm I collapsed in a series of yells and was twitching
on the floor, like an epileptic, until I just fell asleep.
I think he did too, because the next thing I remember is his
gently shaking me, murmuring with half-closed eyes. Whatever he said,
it had something to do with going to bed and I was all too ready.
Somehow, with unsteady legs, I managed to stand up and we both sort of
wobbled down the hallway, leaning on each other. We didn't get out of
bed for thirty-six hours, though we must have slept no more than
five. For that night and the next full day the only sunlight we saw
was what came in through the curtains blowing at the open windows.
Well, Norman did get up to get the champagne and bagels we had for
breakfast, and I did have to pay attention to the contraceptive
supply. We would doze and awake only to make love. Then we'd
decide we were too musky (an oxymoron?) and go take a shower, where
I'd climb up on him in the hot stream and we'd screw away, my legs
around his waist and my arms around his neck as as I pumped away and
he swayed in the hot water. Then we'd towel each other off and climb
back into bed where he'd eat me again. I wholly lost track of how
many times I came, well over a hundred. I was at once
exhausted and exhilerated. After I went home, Sunday was shot, of
course, but I was exhausted for good causes: I think I'm now
bowlegged for life, and I think Norman has sworn off inexperienced
girls!
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 6th Adventure>>>>>
Larry found out about Norman. Well, yes, I told him, but only
after he really got insistent about why I didn't answer my phone all
that weekend (come to think of it, Norman had unplugged his phone,
too...). He was real upset, not that I'd promised him fidelity but
certainly I could understand where his hurt expectations had
come from. So I invited him over for dinner and a talk, and perhaps a
pityfuck.
I selected a satin slipdress--you know, tailored, spaghetti
straps, trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too far into the
cleavage. I picked up some fresh fish and vegies and put on a really
nice table and candlelight, but he wasn't interested. Poor guy was
really hurting, I could see it in his face. After all we had
together, etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell he just never
believed that the whole situation was merely a day-to-day thing.
Funny how guys never complain about who you've seen before, but they
really get hurt when you see someone later! When I explained that I
hadn't really given him up, just allowed someone else in, he seemed
to brighten a bit and his appetite began to come back.
So I poured us a little more wine and let him talk. His work
had been going better, and he'd wanted to share it with me, and here
I'd gone off for a weekend with a year-old reject. Again, I
patiently explained how there'd been no long term promises, just
mutual enjoyment. We finished desert, I poured some brandy, and we
retired to the living room sofa. He was much more relaxed, and
actually began to ask after me (other than regarding Norman, of
course). I sketched out current projects...nothing he didn't
already know about, but they seemed to amuse him. But conversation
about him was really short: How was work? Ok. What about his spare
time? Nothing special. Was he going out with anyone else? No, of
course not. Did he have any trips planned? No, now that I
wouldn't go along, he'd stopped fantasying about them. Well, where
had he wanted us to go? Now he brightened and began to recite a
series of rather detailed itineraries he'd thought through. A bit
TOO detailed, in that EVERYthing was planned, but surely they were
all very romantic ideas for weekends or longer. When I said I'd go
along as things permitted he began to get excited again.
He brought out some pictures he'd clipped, and I moved over next
to him to see them. He did have a great imagination, and his
enthusiasm was now really showing. When I reached over to point out
something in his books, I didn't mind at all letting my hand linger in
his lap. He didn't grab for me right away, but did shift over to be
right next to me.
I poured a little more brandy and the evening drew on. We began
to plan a trip, selecting a long weekend and picking daily
destinations. Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put his
arm around me. I could feel him checking for the (non-existent)
bra strap and panty line. Just as we finished I got up to get more
brandy, and when I came back I sat with my back against the far
armrest of the couch and beckoned to Larry. He scooted over and
put his arm across my waist. I sipped my brandy, gave him his,
and asked him if he wanted to stay the night. I swear he almost
dropped his snifter, and then he smiled; he leaned over and kissed
me, and I put an arm around his shoulders.
When he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his, holding one
hand in his lap while I reached over to put his snifter aside. I
had to really stretch my arm and chest to reach, and I'm sure he
stared closely at the swelling beneath the slip's bodice. When I
turned back I reached up to pull him down and he pivoted his legs onto
the sofa as he lounged beside me.
He still seemed so unsure, though. I stroked his head, and
kissed his lips, but he was hesitant. I took his hand from my waist
and moved it up to my breast, where I held it tight. His hand,
massive as always, was as warm and gentle as before. As he kissed my
neck I pulled my head back and just enjoyed all the sensations. He
soon had his hand inside the dress and then he slipped the straps
off my shoulders. He was getting the idea! Time to find a little
bare skin on this guy, too!
I rolled sideways, so he could get onto the sofa better, then
began working on his buttons, literal and figurative. I would undo
a few then reach down between his legs for a good grab as I kissed him
deeply. Soon, his shirt was off and his pants were open. It wasn't
long before his hand was off my breast and was sliding up my leg
under the dress. I lifted my hips and he just pulled it off over my
head as I sat up. We then went to work on the rest of his clothes
and when they were off I took him to the bedroom.
The sheets were cold but we had them warm soon enough.
There was a lot of exploring we did, sliding our legs over each
other, tongues in ears, nibbles on necks, fingers on genitals. I took
him on my side, and I could see him sigh as he slid into me. Right
away there wasn't the usual vigorous pumping, just sort of a slow and
gentle massage of all my innards. I ran my hands over his chest,
behind me to grab his balls, back up through his hair, and all the
time there was this gentle warmth suffusing through me. I was
tightening down but not yet near explosion.
Then he rolled me over onto my back and began to pump more
quickly. He put his legs outside mine and the pressures changed.
Next, he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I began to
really pump back. When he came it wasn't for long but it was
powerful, almost like a firehose deep inside. I shivered, then
shuddered, and then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming orgasm that
left me breathless.
With the exhaustion that brought, and the brandy, I soon fell
asleep. Larry was there, gently again in the morning, and we repeated
the performance until the sun was at zenith. He left a little more
confident of himself and I lingered in bed, assured the attentions of
two wonderful men. Can life be sweeter?
<<<<<Orphan Annie's 7th Adventure>>>>>
While Euclid found that a triangle was one of the most
stable geometric structures, it certainly isn't in human affairs.
Well, I knew that going into one, but the pleasures of the flesh are
too great for a mere mortal such as myself. I knew that I couldn't
keep both Larry and Norman.
They are both great, and in different ways. Norman is pure,
sizzling, unadulterated breathtaking sex; I can't take him
anywhere except my bedroom, but why would I want to? We don't talk
much, but we communicate nonetheless, orally and otherwise. Larry is
unsure of himself, and as a rough tradesman not someone my father
would immediately like (well, they met at a barbecue one weekend,
and it took a while for even some conversation to take place, but at
least he wasn't thrown out), but he's gentle and generous and we have
great verbal communication. Larry is really possessive, a problem
even in a monogamous relationship, and Norman doesn't care so long as
he doesn't get AIDS.
When I raped Larry in the bathtub the other afternoon,
though, and he came back for more as soon as he was toweled off, I
had a sense that things were going to change. He had never shown
that much self-confidence, and all of a sudden he was less a toy and
more a real man to deal with. Uh-oh...I wasn't going to be able to
hold on to all of this.
I guess Norman felt it, too, because the next night, after a slow
start he got really frenzied, pumping away in me almost frantically
for an hour before we both collapsed in a pile of musky sheets and
slippery bodies. God, he was like candy...you just can't give up that
kind of attention!
Then, the next weekend, Larry took me out for dinner and
dancing. He was well dressed, he found a fabulous restaurant, we
danced and swirled around the dance floor until the place closed, and
then we went home and literally fucked until the sun rose. He ate me
until I was thrashing all over the bed, then he'd slide right in and
excite me some more. After he'd come, I used my lips to get him
excited again and we went at it all over. I had hickeys on my neck,
my breasts, my thighs and my butt, and the windows were well steamed
in the morning. I had to take a nap for the better part of Saturday
just to recover. I thought I'd sent Larry home, but when I awoke
about 4:00 he was peeking into the bedroom with some fresh coffee, and
almost before I finished that we were at it again. You've got to
understand what a gorgeous man Larry is, and just how the contrast
between his coarse exterior and his caring behavior is so exciting: I
really can't keep my hands off him. He even looks better in the robe
he gave me than I do! And I just love sliding my hand up inside
that robe because I find such a wonderful cock to play with! Then
he took me out to dinner again and all he did was play with his food
while his hand was playing between my legs. He kept calling me "the
most exciting person he'd met," and I had to lie about Norman to
return the compliment. Which of these guys do I keep around?
I HAD to get Larry out by Sunday morning, because Norman was due
Sunday afternoon. We went out for a hillside picnic, and after the
wine was gone the local eagles had a terrific view of human anatomy
until the sun went down. He didn't say anyting about the hickeys,
but he must have seen them! Then we sort of curled up in the
blanket and dozed on the hillside until we awoke, shivering, about
midnight. I gave him a hand job on the drive back to my place, but
insisted he leave so I could rest for Monday's work. I was reaching a
point where I couldn't keep up the pace of keeping two guys up.
So you see the dilemma. What do I do?
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