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Courtney By Dirty Dawg
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.
STORY:"Courtney" mf/passion
"Courtney"
By Dirty Dawg
Semi-standard Disclaimer : General younger man-
older woman story here, folks. All characters
of a legal and appropriate age.
-1-
"And the world's shrunken to a heap
of hot flesh straining on a bed."
-E.R. Dodds
British Classical Scholar
To be frank, I wanted her the moment I saw her,
which is strange because she was 20 years older than me. But
there was that certain something about her that attracted me
to her, and I knew that if the feeling was even slightly
mutual, I would act on it.
Courtney was the wife of a co-worker. Don had come
to our company first as a consultant, and then as he proved
himself with his performance, he was invited to stay on at a
much higher salary. Moving from the cold midwest to sunny
San Diego was probablly a mitigating factor, but just the
same, he packed his wife and two kids up and moved to
southern California.
He was a management specialist, and I was in
Information Systems, working as the senior database analyst.
As such, we had ample opportunity to interact both
professionally and socially. It was the first social
interaction, however, that started this entire...affair. And
I suppose, after all is said and done, that that is what
this is. Courtney has no desire to leave her husband or end
her marriage, and I have no desire to become her husband or
a stepfather to her children, both of which are only younger
than me by a few short years. Frankly, all Courtney and I
want to do is screw the living daylights out of each other.
But I digress; it took me a while to get to that point, so
I'd better back up and let you all join us here as well.
Don had invited me over to his new house for dinner
and discussions about business. Wanting to appear friendly,
I accepted. The door was answered by a goddess. She was
somewhere between forty and forty-five, of that there was no
doubt. She was short and slim and had a wonderfully warm
smile, and dark, intelligent eyes that drew me in like a
buglight. She reached out and shook my hand, introducing
herself.
"You must be Dan. I'm Courtney, Don's wife." I
smiled and nodded at her, too stunned to immediately speak.
She took my windbreaker, and led me into the kitchen. It was
one of those wonderful California kitchens, all light and
air and room to manuever. A huge butcher-block counter
dominated the middle of the room, complete with a working
stove and ample room to prepare meals. An opened bottle of
rose wine was on the counter, and she offered me a glass.
"Thank you, no" I said. "I'm not much of a wine
drinker."
"Hmmm," she said, playfully stroking her chin. "I
suppose you're more of a beer drinker, hmm?" I nodded, and
she turned, opened the icebox, and bent down to rummage
around the lower shelves.
At that point, I nearly fainted. She was wearing a
light-colored (peach or ivory,) silky blouse, and tight,
black pleated trousers that were now stretched tightly
across her buttocks, revealing to me that although she could
count four decades of time on this planet, she had fought
Mother Nature tooth and nail. Her ass looked invitingly
tight and firm, and I wondered for a moment how it would
feel filling my hands as I thrust my slowly stirring cock
into her cunt.
"Hey, Dan!" I heard from behind me, and turned to
see Don staring at me from the family room. To my sudden
horror, I realized that he'd caught me ogling his wife, and
to add to my humiliation, I could feel myself beginning to
blush. "You've met Courtney, I see," he said, indicating
with a sweep of his hand his wife, still bent over in front
of the icebox. I nodded, dumbly, and shook hands with her
husband and my co-worker.
His big, meaty paw covered my own hand, and I
wondered if we were going to get into one of those insane
hand-squeezing tests. Perhaps I should add that although I'm
six-three and 250, Don made me look like a dwarf. He was six
foot six, and weighed close to four hundred pounds. And not
an ounce of it, a single ounce of it...was muscle. He was a
huge blob of a man, with swinging jowls that reminded me of
those things on a chicken. (What <do> you call those,
anyway?) I looked back at Courtney, all five foot three and
about 90 pounds of her, and instantly, several questions
jumped into my mind:
1) How did they <EVER> have children?
2) How did they <NOW> have sex?
3) And if the answer to #2 was "We don't",;
3a) Would she like to sleep with ME?
But that was best put off for another time. Suffice
it to say that I had an instant attraction to Courtney, but
fearing for my own job-related political life, I decided to
bury those feelings deeply inside.
Flash foward about two months. Don and I played golf
more than a few times, went shooting more than a few times,
and shared more than a few beers at his house before and
after these various events. Every time I was treated to the
sight of Courtney, and I began to realize that each
succeding time I came over, Courtney was dressing more and
more...well, suggestively. After two months, she answered
the door in a pair of tight nylon running shorts and a t-
shirt. It was obvious from the press of her nipples through
the shirt that she was <not> wearing a bra, and I tried to
keep myself from staring at her still-firm, supple 36C's.
(We later measured...)
She knew (I know now,) that I was interested in her,
and she was trying to encourage me without tipping her
husband off. She had a basically happy marriage, as far as
the straight emotional aspects of the relationship went, it
was just that the sexual side had all but died. I wondered
about that <at all>, but Courtney had shown me a photo album
filled with snapshots just after she and Don were married,
and I was stunned to see that if anything, he had <lost>
weight since they were married. What a beautiful, petite
woman like Courtney would see in a gargantua like Don was
beyond me. But then again, love <is> blind, right?
Well, flash foward about another two months. Don's
administrative assistant was pregnant, and had to take six
weeks off to have the baby and all that. The company didn't
want to hire new help, so Courtney voulenteered to work for
free as Don's assistant. Which means, of course, that I got
to see even <more> of her.
When Courtney started appearing at the job, I found
it harder and harder to concentrate on the tasks at hand.
She was always wearing chic business attire, but just the
<way> she wore it turned me on. And then it started, the
awful teasing that had me wondering what the hell was going
on, if anything, between us. She would appear in my office
to ask me a question about something, and lean over to show
me or point something out, and I would always get a clear
shot down her unbuttoned-just-enough blouse to see her
creamy breasts being lightly cupped in some really
outreageous lingerie. I always wanted to reach out and cup
one gently swelling breast with my hand, and scrape my thumb
across a nipple to see what it felt like...but since my
office had front-facing windows and no blinds or shades, I
always kept my hands to myself.
This kept up, and then she started touching me.
Every chance Courtney had, she would touch my arm or my
hands or my shoulders, the feather-light feeling of her
fingers on my body sending butterflies directly to my
stomach. I wanted her to touch me <everywhere>.
And finally, I did it. I called her on the intercom.
As her extension rang, I noticed that my hands were shaking
and there was an awful taste in the back of my mouth. I
knew, instantly, what it was as I flashed back to my high
school days, days when I would ask a girl out and pray to
the mightiest God there was that if she <did> turn me down,
that she wouldn't laugh and call me a silly boy.
"Hello?"
"Courtney." It was a word, not question.
"Hello, Dan." Her voice was soft and soothing.
"Do you feel it?" I asked, without any preliminary.
I knew she would understand what I was talking about
instantly, and I didn't want to preface it, give her time to
build defenses.
There was the slightest of pauses, and then, "Oh my,
yes. Since the beginning."
We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. And
then she asked, "Can you be discreet?"
"For a chance to find out how we are together...I
wouldn't tell God himself if he appeared before me."
She chuckled at my exggeration. I clarified: "I have
as much to loase here as you do, perhaps more."
"I have a husband," she said pointedly.
"I know you do. But, apparantly, you're not as
married as he thinks you are."
There was a long pause. "I suppose you're right,"
she conceded. "But I do not want to divorce Don. I'm not in
love with you."
"Neither am I. In love with you, I mean."
"I know what you meant," she said.
Another long pause.
"You can't come to my house," she said.
"I know. And you can't come to my apartment." My
roomate also worked at the company in the Marketing
department. Lawrence just wouldn't understand, and he had a
huge mouth to boot.
"So how are we going to do this?" she asked.
"I don't know. I'm waiting for suggestions."
"It's not like I've ever done this before!" she
snapped.
"Courtney. I wasn't saying you had. It's just that..
.well, you and I have both obviously been thinking about
this for a long time. Do you have any ideas?"
When she answered, her voice was so soft and
distant, I wondered if she was speaking to me...or something
that was not quite there, not quite real. "When I think of
you...of us...all I see is you and I together in glorious
physical harmony." She fell silent. "I suppose that sounds
corny."
"Not at all." My own voice had dropped a few
decibels. I felt like I was in a church. "I knew the instant
I laid eyes on you that...we would be wonderful together."
"Did you? Did you really?"
"Yes," I almost whispered.
"What took you so long?" she fairly cried. "I've
been...hungry since I met you at the door. Hungry for your
touch, your kiss...your cock." Her use of the word
surprised, but did not shock, me. I was beginnning to zoom
in on her erotic core. She was tired of playing The Good
Wife, and wanted to have some physical fun. So much the
better if it were someone who knew the score, didn't want
anything from her that she chose not to give. Someone who
was as intelligent...and as lonely...as she was.
That, of course, luckily, was me.
"Don has to travel," I offered. And it was true, he
travelled often for the company, sometimes he was gone for
weeks at a stretch, communicating through faxes and cellular
phones and pagers.
"The kids," Courtney whispered. I could hear it in
her voice, the desire to shed, if only for a moment, the
emotional and societal restraints that her marriage and
family that were keeping us apart. I would never suggest to
her that she outright lie and scheme to her family to
provide situations for us. That would be going too far.
"When Don leaves, if the kids sleep over friends
houses...anything like that. Call me, at once."
"No."
My stomach dropped again. "It's..." she started.
"Please don't take this the wrong way. I want to be with you
very, very much. I want to explore every inch of your body
and have you explore every inch of mine. But...I have a
family, like I said. And more importantly, I have neighbors.
I can't imagine making love with you in my husband's bed...
and I don't want you to be seen coming and going when my
husband is out of town. We have to think of somewhere...
else."
My secretary appeared in my window, making motions
like she wanted to come in. I held up a hand, staying her as
I finished the conversation. "Courtney...I will think about.
..ways to make this happen. Until then, remember to act
natural."
"What's natural?" she asked.
"What's natural is the fact that just talking to
you, just hearing the sound of your voice over this
telephone has giving me an erection that I'm going to have
to beat down with a baseball bat! Think about that,
Courtney. Think about the fact that every fiber of my being
hungers for you, the feel of you and the taste of you. I
have to go."
I hung up the phone without letting her respond, and
motioned for me secretary to enter.
"Jeez," she said. "Did you win the lottery or
something?"
Confused, I looked at her. "What?"
"You have a very strange expression on your face,
like the cat that ate the canary or something."
I just smiled.
-2-
"Tisn't beauty, so to speak, nor good
talk, necessairly. It's just IT.
Some women'll stay in a man's memory
if they once walked down a street."
-Rudyard Kipling
Two nights later, the phone rang just as I was
drifting off to sleep. Lawrence and I had seperate lines
into the apartment, because I mostly used mine to connect
with the mainframe at work. Sleepily, I lifted it to my ear.
"'lo?"
"What are you doing?" I was instantly awake. Her
soft, slightly husky voice was instantly arousing.
"I'm getting ready to go to sleep," I said.
She didn't say anything for a long, pregnant moment.
"Ask me what I'm wearing," she finally said.
Agreeably, I asked. "OK. What are you wearing?"
"Well," Courtney said, "I'm wearing very, very high
heels, almost five inches tall. Black seamed stockings,
fishnet, with a wide weave. A black leather garter belt,
black satin panties, and a demicup bra. What do you think of
that?"
I let her stew for a second. "I'm thinking of what
you would look like, wearing that."
"Well?"
"I think you'd look good enough to...eat."
"And to fuck, I hope." There she went again. At work
and publically, she was always so ladylike and proper. And
now, on the phone, having what I devoutly hoped was a
private conversation, she was telling me that she was
dressed like a slut and using words like "fuck."
"Courtney, can I ask you something?"
"Mmmmmm," she said, with a tone in her voice that
led me to believe she was touching herself in very naughty
places. "Go ahead. Ask me anything."
"How do you like your sex?"
"What do you mean?" Her voice was hesitant.
"Well...do you like it soft and gentle, or hard and
rough? Do you like to talk dirty? Do you like giving or
getting oral sex? Do you take it up the ass? What?"
There was a very long pause this time, and I was
sure I'd gone too far.
"What prompted you to ask that question?"
"Well, in public, you never say 'shit' and 'fuck'.
And I damn sure know that you don't normally wear the kinds
of things you have on now!"
"How do you know?" she asked.
"Because," I said smugly, "I've been staring down
your shirt for months!" She laughed, and then grew serious.
"Dan...my sex life with my husband was never that great. We
managed through trial and error to concieve two children.
Aside from that, my sexual experience is next to nil. I've
done what most good wives have done over the years: I
fantasize, masturbate and read lots of trashy novels. You're
the first man in a long time to make me feel attractive,
feel like a woman again, like a sexy plaything. You have no
idea how important that is to me, and how flattering it is
coming from...from someone like you."
"You mean someone as young as I am."
"Well..," she hedged, "...yes."
"Look, Courtney. I don't know why I'm attracted to
you, I just know that I am, and that I want nothing more
right now then to be next to you, gently tracing the lines
of your shoulders and necks with my fingertips, tasting the
sweat at the base of your neck and behind your ears..."
"Oh...MY!" Courtney stage-whispered into the phone.
"If my age is going to be a problem...perhaps we
should deal with that now. But I'd much rather tell you what
I'm going to do with you the first time we're alone and free
from interruptions."
"Oh, God....tell me, please!"
"Well, first...we'd dance to some slow music, to
really get in tune with each other's body. I'm about a foot
taller than you, so in heels, your head will be just high
enough to rest on my shoulder. I want to feel your body next
to mine, through our clothes, the gentle, pleasing weight of
your breasts pressing against my chest as we sway to the
music.
"I want to drop my hands to your incredible ass and
feel you through the material of your skirt. A short, tight
skirt that makes your legs look like they reach all the way
up to your armpits. I want to lower my head and gently brush
the hair away from your ears so I can get at that sensitive
part where your neck and shoulder meet, so I can taste it
with tip of my tongue, and gently, oh, so gently, suck at
it. Not hard enough to leave a mark...but enough to let you
know that I want you."
"Mmmmmm, don't stop," Courtney whispered.
"I want to pull away for a long, slow instant, to
see your incredibly deep eyes locking with mine. I want to
watch your mouth open slightly, in this little surprised
'o', so that I can move in and taste the heat and warmth of
your lips against mine. I want to feel your fingers
suddenely clutching at my shoulders as the kiss intensifies
and wettens.
"I want to kiss that throbbing vein in your neck,
the one that tells me that you're as scared as I am about
fucking this up..."
"And then?" she fairly screamed. "THEN what?"
A sudden evil thought popped into my head. "I'll
tell you the rest...when we can be alone." And I hung up the
phone.
I sat up for about an hour, waiting for the phone to
ring. It didn't so just before I turned the light off, I
called her back. If one of the kids answered, I'd just
disconnect.
She answered. "Hello?"
"I just wanted you to know," I said softly, "that
you're the last thing I'm thinking about before I go to
sleep."
And I hung up again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The phone woke me at about seven.
"Hello?"
"I just wanted you to know," Courtney said, "that
you were the first thing I thought about when I woke up."
The phone went dead in my ear, and with a smile, I replaced
the reciever and rose to greet the new day. It was a work
day...a Friday, and I knew that Don was leaving for Florida.
.. for three entire weeks. And I also knew that Scott and
Kathy, Courtney's children, were leaving for summer camp for
a month. Courtney did not know that I knew this.
Leverage. God, how I loved it.
And then, as always, she turned the tables on me. I
was sitting behind my desk, smugly thinking of ways to tease
and please her, when Courtney walked into my office. She
smiled at me, leaned over and planted a quick peck on my
lips, enough of a taste of her to make my cock start
throbbing immediately.
"I've been thinking about you all morning," she
said. "I've been so incredibly wet thinking about you
touching and stroking and kissing me that I just have to
give you these..." And then I noticed that she was holding
something in her hand, something small and silky. It was her
panties, little black lace things. The crotch panel was
stained with her juices. She dropped them into my lap and
turned to leave, stopping at the door to say one last thing
over her shoulder to me.
"Just think about the fact that I'm not wearing any
underwear under this skirt...for the rest of the day."
She smiled, waved a little wave at me, and then
vanished back to her own office. Looking down at my lap, I
rubbed my finger across the moist crotch of her panties, and
raised the finger to my nose. She smelled like ambrosia,
like strawberries in a soft summer wind. I kept those
panties in my lap for the rest of the afternoon, letting
them drape across my thumping cock. If anyone came in and
asked me to stand, I'd be in a shitload of trouble, but I
didn't care.
At five-ten, my intercom buzzed. I picked it up.
"Daniel Byrne," I answered.
"Regent Plaza. Room 1402. Seven thirty. Don't be
late." And then there was nothing.
Ohmygod.
-3-
"License my hands and let
them go
Before, behind, between, above
below."
-John Donne
The door to 1402 was closed, and I'd been standing
in front of it for about ten minutes. I was thinking about
my own experience, or more to the point, my own lack of
experience with the fairer sex. No virgin I, but it could
not be said by any <stretch> of the imagination that I was a
'stud.' The word just did not apply to a 24 year-old
computer whiz from the East Coast who had three dates in
High School. My first sexual experience was with an older
woman, a 21-year old counselor at a camp I attended when I
was fifteen. And that, I later learned, was what women
called a Mercy Fuck.
Well...it's now or never, I thought, and raised my
hand to knock. At that moment, the door opened.
"Ten minutes," Courtney said with a smile in her
voice. "Until you raised your hand, I didn't think you were
going to make it." I felt myself blush to the roots of my
hair, and I wished immediately for a chasm to open up in the
floor and swallow me whole. Instead, Courtney reached a hand
into the hall and dragged me inside.
She shut the door behind her, and then we were in
each other's arms. Her body melded itself to mine, and
though she was teetering on her high heels, I felt consumed
with that first kiss. It lasted for at least a minute, a
tangling of tongues in both mouths, and exchange of fluid,
that first, delicious, illicit contact sending sparks
through us both.
We seperated, and I took a moment to look her over.
She was wearing a short, tight black skirt that hugged her
tight little ass, dark stockings (not seamed, and not
fishnet, but probably a little more respectable, considering
that she <did> have to walk through the lobby...) Her blouse
was dark blue, almost royal blue, and was made out of satin
or some other shiny material. Identifying women's clothing
by name has never been a skill of mine, but make no mistake;
I know what I like. And this, I liked!
"You look...spectacular," was all I could say. She
batted her eyes at me and giggled. It was a wonderful sound.
"And you," she said, raising a hand to my face,
gently stroking my cheek with her fingernails. "You look so
handsome." I looked down at myself, at the jacket and tie
I'd worn to work that day, and my slightly scuffed shoes.
"This old thing? I just threw it on!" She laughed at my
feeble joke, and took my hand, leading me inside. The room
she'd rented was actually a suite, with a sitting room, a
small 'living' room, and a door that presumably led to the
bedroom.
There was a room-service cart parked in the sitting
room next to the couch, and I spied a bottle of champagne
peeking out of a silver ice bucket. Shit. I hate that stuff.
Makes my nose tingle.
"Why don't you pour me some?" she said, indicating
the bottle. "I want to freshen up a little." I smiled at
her, and bent to the task, twisting the little wire cage off
of the bottle as I watched her walk towards the bathroom.
Her hips had an extra little wiggle in them, and knowing it
was for me made my own stomach do a little flip.
And then I noticed that in the bottom of the ice
bucket were three ice-cold bottles of beer. Beer she had
obviously ordered for me.
I poured the champagne, and then a beer into a
stout, iced mug that I found on the tray. I took them to the
couch and sat. Courtney appeared a moment later, and stopped
at a wall switch to dim the lights before joining me on the
couch. She tucked her legs underneath her and held out her
hand for the glass I offered.
We sipped and stared at each other, neither one of
us saying anything.
Finally, from her: "This is insane."
My free hand was toying with her hair, lightly
scratching the skin on the back of her neck. "I know," I
said, and then added, "but I also know that if we don't make
love here tonight, I'll probably explode."
"You want me <that> much?" she asked. Silently, I
nodded. "Why?" she asked. "I can understand my feelings for
you; you're young and handsome and so...sexy!" I blushed at
her words, but only because I didn't believe her. I was
never 'sexy' to anyone.
I started moving towards her, gently approaching
with my head titled. We kissed, softly, and then backed
away, rubbing noses. I kissed the tip of her nose. "I think,
" I whispered, "that you are the sexiest woman I have ever
seen in my life." A small, grateful smile appeared on
Courtney's face as her hand came around to carress my cheek.
"You dear sweet man," she said. And then her mouth
was on mine again, hungrily sucking at me. Her hands
clutched at my jacket, working it off my shoulders and down
my arms. Once discarded, her hands went back to work,
loosening my tie, and then seperating the buttons on my
shirt. When the first button went, her face dropped to my
chest, exploring and tasting the exposed skin with her lips,
mouth and tongue. Her touch was electric and wet and hot and
moist, and I wanted it to never end. Her hands were busily
working to get my shirt off, and then she was pulling the
tail out, and working the shirt down my arms. She tossed it
over with the jacket. Her hands were all over my chest,
tracing the outlines of my pectorals, toying with my nipples
as she took me in.
"God, you're perfect," she said. "So young...so
strong." Our mouths came together again, and I lost myself
in her moist heat, sucking at the lightly probing tip of her
tongue. My hands went around her back and started working
the buttons of her blouse slowly, one at a time. My hands
invaded the blouse from the back, spanning the smooth, warm
skin of her back, feeling the strap of her bra. The blouse
came off slowly, tantalizingly... Her bra was sheer and
tiny, barely supporting the substantial weight of her
breasts. Her nipples were hard, pushing against the soft
material.
"You're so beautiful," I whispered. "So soft and so
sexy." And again we collided at the mouth as my hands easily
worked the bra fastener. It came away in my hands, and I
slipped the straps off her shoulders, and followed them down
to the cups. As slowly as possible I removed the cups from
her breasts, and tossed the bra aside, returning my hands to
gently cup and weigh her tits. Exercise, or perhaps a visit
to the body shop, had kept her breasts firm and soft to my
touch. They were warm and slightly moist with sweat, and I
felt the hard nubbins of her nipples graze my palms as I
spanned her chestflesh with my hands. I tightened my grip
just a little, and felt Courtney gasp into my mouth.
Her hand strayed to my crotch, and she traced the
outline of my cock through my pants. "Is that all for me?"
she asked.
Nodding, I said, "All for you. Whenever you want it.
"
"Oh god, Dan," Courtney whispered urgently, "please
do come inside me!" Her hands frantically worked my belt and
trousers open and down. My erect cock was poking at my
jockeys, and she could see how hot and hard I was for her,
how much I wanted her touch.
Lowering her head, Courtney blew hot streams of
breath across my cotton-covered cock, and I felt the
goosebumps rise on my legs and arms. Her tiny little hands
worked my shorts down and off, and then my erect, angry cock
was bobbing and staring her right in the face.
"It's so beautiful," she said. "So hard and thick."
Notice that she didn't say <long>. That's because even when
I'm at my most aroused state, my tumescent little tiger
measures a subaverage 5 inches. I'd never had any complaints
about it's performance, though, so I don't worry about it.
And then Courtney's incredibly hot, wet mouth was
closing around the head of my cock, and she was gently
bobbing, taking more and more of me with each stroke. My own
hands were filled with her breasts, and as the animal
passion of our attraction took over, the gentle lovemaking
went out the window, replaced instead with two hot, sweaty
bodies grasping at each other, struggling towards the first
ultimate release of passion between us.
Courtney's hands were in my crotch, two fingers
around the base of my cock, the other hand gently working my
balls. The sounds coming from my crotch were loud and slurpy
and very exciting. A woman old enough to be my mother was
between my legs, eagerly suckling at my cock, making me feel
like I was going to blow my load any second.
Sensing this, Courtney backed off for a moment.
Standing, she then kneeled before me, using a hand on each
knee to spread me thighs to give her more room to operate.
It was comical, because I still had my shoes and socks on.
I quickly got rid of those and settled back into the
couch as Courtney again dipped her head to take my cock into
her mouth. In this position, we locked gazes as she slowly
worked my erect member in and out of her soft, wet mouth.
Twirling her tongue around the tip, Courtney applied more
suction than a vaccum cleaner, and I had to resort to doing
multiplication tables in my head so as not to cum.
But in the end, it was fruitless, and the orgasm was
made that much more special because I was staring into her
depthless brown eyes when I climaxed. Her own eyes closed
with pleasure as I spurted my cum across her wildly licking
tongue. Courtney kept her mouth around my cock until I was
spent (but still hard...ah, youth!) and then slowly raised
her face. She crawled up into my lap and smiled at me with
dreamy, heavy-lidded eyes. She lowered her mouth for a kiss,
and I noticed a bit of my own cum in the corner of her
mouth. And when we kissed, I could taste myself in her and
on her, and it drove me crazy. I seached her mouth with my
tongue, looking for more of my essence to share with her.
She sensed this, and our kiss extended and lengthened.
My hands were on her legs, working their way under
her skirt. She started to shift to take it off and I stayed
her with my hands. "Leave it on...please..." Agreeing
silently, she settled back into my arms as I worked a hand
up between her thighs.
I stroked the soft skin of her inner thighs, slowly
working my way to her molten core. My hands grazed the edge
of her mons through the panties, and she gasped into my
mouth, her hands clutching at my shoulders.
I lifted her off my lap and set her in the postion
I'd been in recently. Putting her arms over her head and
stretching, Courtney scooted her ass to the edge of the
couch and spread her legs wantonly wide. I knelt before her
and started at her knees, kissing my way up. The skirt
wasn't so tight as to restrict my movements, but I moved it
out of the way anyway.
Her panties were black silk, and I could see a wet
spot the diameter of a beer can in the center. She was hot
and aroused and I could smell her passion from her knees. My
face grazed her crotch once, and I gave a single, thrilling
lick with my tongue, tasting her tangy juices in my mouth.
"Oh Jesus!" she said, grabbing my head with her
hands and forcing my face against her swampy panties. I
sucked and slurped and licked at her through the material,
and she started bucking her cunt up to meet my mouth.
"..take them off," she whispered,"...oh, God, please
take them off!" I reached to her waist and fairly tore the
panties off, taking a half in each hand, and then burying my
mouth and face into her now-naked cunt. Her hair was sparse
and dark black, like the hair on her head. Her cunt looked
wonderful, and tasted better. She tasted like sweat and
summer strawberries, and I licked at her like a desert-
crawler finding an oasis.
She shuddered through three quick cums, and then
pushed me away. "Time for the main event," she said with a
smile, took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
-4-
"That which we call sin in others
is experiment for us."
-R.W. Emerson
American essayist, poet, philisopher
"Toute me est une melodie q#il s'agit de
renouer."
(Translation: Every soul is a melody which
needs renewing.)
- Stphane Mallarm
French Symbolist Poet
The bed was already turned down. Courtney sat on it
and drew me to her, resting her head on my stomach. Her
hands were gently tracing my buttocks as I stood before her,
my cock lightly rubbing against her chin.
"You dear, sweet man," she whispered. "Do you even
<know> how excited I am for you right now? Do you have any
<idea> how much I want to feel you inside me, inside my
body?"
Gently caressing the soft skin of her cheeks, I
replied : "I imagine about as much as I want to be inside
you, my love. Now lean back, and let me taste you again."
Eagerly, smiling, Courtney fell back on the bed and splayed
her thighs wide. Her hands went to work on her own tits,
testing and cupping their weight in her hands, eager thumbs
working on her erect nipples. I could see the wet evidence
of her arousal surrounding her hole.
Starting at her feet, I slowly kissed every inch of
her toes, ankles and calves. As I slowly kissed and licked
my way up her body, my hands continued to stroke and caress
her skin, find little spots that gave Courtney pleasure and
added to her arousal.
As I crossed the midway point of her knees, her
breathing deepened. "My God, my husband would never even
think of doing this to me," she whispered.
"A little lacking in the loving department, huh?" I
joked.
"He's just from the old school." She quoted him
bitterly, mimicking, "Ya gotta get it up to get it to get it
on to get it off."
I was gently sucking at the tender skin of her inner
thigh, being careful not to leave a telltale mark. I raised
my head and locked eyes with her. "Wham bam, thank you,
Ma'am?" I asked.
She nodded. "You know it."
"Well...you've come to the right place, then." And I
resumed my slow, teasing, agonizing licking and kissing
until I was again face to muff with her cunt. The scent of
her almost overwhelming arousal filled my nostrils. It was
an almost palpable physical presence, and I took a moment to
savor the effect I'd had on this woman.
And then I dropped my face into her crotch and
lightly bit her clit. The effect was instantaneous and
climactic. She lurched upright in bed, bending from the
middle as though doing a situp, and dug her hands into my
head, forcing my mouth and face against her incredibly wet
and juicy crack. I started long, thrilling licks from top to
bottom, alternating with teasing tongue stabs past her lips
and into her hole. I could feel the walls of her incredibly
slick cunt snapping and closing around my tongue, trying to
keep my wriggling mouth-snake inside of her body.
For almost twenty minutes Courtney rode my face like
a cowgirl, screeching through one climax after another. When
I finally pushed myself away, I glanced over at the mirror
and had to grin: My face looked like a glazed doughnut.
Courtney pulled my face to hers, and she started
licking her own juice off of my face. I found this to be
highly erotic, and our kisses mounted in passion as I
lowered my full weight on top of her.
"I love this," she said simply. "I love feeling your
body next to mine." We started rubbing against each other,
and I could feel my cock slithering between her lips
lengthwise, pointed at the mattress. Her fat, greasy cunt
lips rubbed along the sides of me, and I wanted so much to
just ramfuck her into the mattress. Perhaps later, I
thought. Right now, she wanted gentle and soothing and
giving.
I leaned back and gently spread her legs a little
wider, watching as her slick crack opened for me. Her hole
was winking at me, and looking up at Courtney, I could see
that she was biting her bottom lip, waiting for my
penetration.
I rubbed myself along her wetness, getting ready.
The head of my almost-purble cock penetrated her slowly,
inch by inch, and she suddenely gasped.
"My God..you're so thick!" Well, that did a lot to
boost the 'ol ego, and I used my weight to slowly drive the
entire five inches inside her with a single slow push. The
air in Courtney's lungs exited with a long exhale that
matched my penetration, and then I was flat against her
chest, buried to the roots in her spasaming cunt.
She was as warm as hot, slippery honey, and I wanted
to stay buried in her pussy for the rest of my life. Her
long, slim legs came around my waist and her heels started
beating against my butt.
"Slowly, " she whispered. "Please make this last as
long as you can." Smiling, I began stroking gently and
slowly, wanting to please her and make it last. Our bodies
joined and seperated, our loins slapping gently together as
we rode the waves of pleasure. After about fifteen minutes,
I pulled her over on top of me and let her set the pace as I
played with her tits and pulled her face to mine for a kiss.
She was grounding herself against me on each downstroke,
mashing her clit against my body. Her cunt would spasm
tightly around me, and I would groan and think about batting
averages so as not to cum. Her incredibly tight, wet cunt
was slowly, inoxerably miliking the jizz out of nuts, and I
wanted nothing more than to spray her insides with my cum.
After half an hour of fucking, I was shaking with my
need to cum. It was time to become a little bit more
forceful. I laid Courtney down on her back again, and lifted
her legs onto my shoulders, and then leaned foward,
spreading the lips of her still-clutching cunt with my cock.
I started pounding into her, listening to her whimper and
moan with each thrust.
"F-f-f-f-uck me" she stuttered, "h-h-h-harder." I
really started slamming against her, again and again, and
then I knew I was a moment away from blasting my jizz. I
buried myself in Courtney's cunt, clutched her asscheeks in
my hands, and blew my load. Huge pumping streams of my cream
poured from my cock, filling her so completely that it
started to back out and ooze from her slit, covering the
both of us with a mixture of our juices. I collapsed on top
of her, feeling the comforting weight of her tits crushed
against my chest. We kissed softly, gently as her cunt
milked my of my last drops.
"That was wonderful," she whispered. "Just like I
imagined. Better, in some ways."
"You ain't seen nothing yet," I promised, as I
kissed my way softly down her body and then slowly and
carefully licked the mixture of my cum and her honey out of
her swampy, used slot. "Oh my God!" she screamed, against
thrusting her crotch against my face.
"Three weeks," I said. "We have three weeks. Three
entire weeks to fuck and suck and learn all we can about
each other."
"Mmmm," Courtney moaned. "When you're done there...
oh god! Right there!...I have something I want to give you.
Something I've never given anyone before."
"What?"
"My asshole."
==============================================================
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