This week began like any other week, I would leave the warehouse at four thirty in the morning and begin deliveries to grocery stores and restaurants throughout the area. By the time I reached Grove City, around seven thirty, it was time for breakfast. From time to time I would have to cover someone else’s route and not stop at Cheryl’s Diner, but not very often. In the two plus years I’d been stopping I was generally waited on by Francine or Michelle, not today, an older lady was asking if I wanted coffee before ordering.

“Where are Francine and Michelle? They have the day off?”

“Well sir, neither work here any longer, Friday was their last day, Francine is moving to Daytona Beach to be closer to her kids and Michelle landed a job in Cuba City at a large distribution warehouse. I usually work from three until seven evenings, now I’m covering early mornings. So … coffee, or would you like to look at the menu?”

“Nope, won’t need a menu. I’ll have the haystack without onions and a glass of milk with the meal, honey wheat toast.”

“Sounds like you’ve eaten here before.”

“Nearly every Monday through Friday for over two years. I noticed there’s no strawberry jam, can you remedy that?”

She offered a soft smile along with, “Certainly, anything I can do to help.”

Having lived in the south the past several years I was used to the normal hon, shug, babe, baby or sweetie from southern waitresses, this lady was southern, but she was different. I smiled and tipped my hat as I watched her walk away. She was good looking for an older broad, quite conservative in her dress but attractive in her own right, most of the waitresses would be in jeans and a somewhat revealing top. Apparently cleavage increases the size of the tip.

Her nametag said Elma, and unlike the other gals she was dressed like waitresses used to, a light blue cotton dress with white piping around the sleeves and neckline, a neckline that was open but not enough to look inside. The one unusual thing I did notice was that the hem of her dress was probably three inches above her knees and that she wore stockings. I estimated she must be in her late fifties, maybe sixty. She had a slender figure, sort of average I guess, a cute hinder that twitched a little as she walked away, or did she do that for my benefit. Her chest wasn’t big but then it wasn’t small either, what I’m trying to say is she was put together nicely.

Unlike so many older ladies it was apparent she had let her hair color naturally, it was mostly a silverish grey with a smattering of brown every so often. It was long by most standards, well over her shoulders and while not as thick as a young woman’s hair it was still full. I was surprised she wasn’t wearing glasses, most older people do, maybe she used contacts.

Waiting for my food I momentarily drifted back to how I’d come to live in the south. I had ended up moving after my long-time life companion decided she was leaving me for a much younger model. Though we’d been together thirteen years Sherry and I had never married, I had proposed more than once, each time she said no but wanted to stay together. In my eyes we were married whether we had a certificate or not. Not so in hers I guess. For my thirty third birthday she took me out for a lavish steak dinner and introduced me to her new lover wondering if wanted to be part of a polyamorous relationship.

When I got out of jail forty-five days later I decided to move. Not across town, across country. Since I’d done no permanent harm to her new lover the DA showed mercy and charged me with a misdemeanor instead of a felony, which meant I could keep my CDL. I happily left the ice and snow of North Dakota, trading it for the heat and humidity of Northwest Georgia. Once I got past the culture shock and learned how to decipher Southern ese, (my God these people talk fast) I felt good about the move. Yes, it was hot and sticky four to five months a year, but compared to ice, snow, and temps at or below freezing five to six months a year, I figured I had the better deal.

I’d been driving big rigs all my adult life with a perfect driving record, finding work wasn’t an issue, I had lined up the position I presently occupied prior to ever moving. I was tired of the long hauls and decided running a steady daily route would be more in line with what I wanted life to be. I lived in an apartment complex complete with a pool, laundry facility, a fitness/workout room, a hot tub, and more lonely housewives than you can shake a stick at. Then there were the divorcee’s, the lonely heart singles, the downright homely, and last, but not least, the “I hate all men” club.

At thirty-four I must have been considered prime material because I had an abundance of women, married and otherwise, who let it be known they were ready to be wooed and screwed by yours truly. I have to admit I did avail myself of said provisions more than once, okay, okay, sometimes more than once a week. I stayed away from the married one’s as much as possible, the key words there being “as much as possible”. In the two years and seven months I’d been living there I’d only bedded three housewives. Two of which had abusive husbands and a third whose husband never grew up, he spent most of his free time with his high school buddies, all in their late twenties.

I’d met all three at the laundry facility, the first two were obvious, I showed them some kindness, they in turn wanted to be wanted without being abused. The second one of those nearly landed my ass back in jail, thankfully her soon to be ex was too drunk to remember who’d kicked the shit out of him. Within a week of his ass whooping she had vanished, her girlfriend said she’d gone back to Iowa and was filing for divorce. Smart girl, no one should have to put up with that shit.

The third was lonely, plain and simple, feeling neglected, unwanted, undesirable, and had basically accepted she was destined for a shitty life with an idiot husband. It started out quite innocent, we talked, she shared dreams and aspirations, we learned of one another’s past, it got to be a regular thing every Thursday night. That was the slowest night of the week at the laundry for some reason, it was usually Emily and me along with one or two others.

To keep my horns trimmed I’d been banging two divorcees across the complex on occasion, I didn’t hide it, but it wasn’t common knowledge either. Emily and I were near being done with our laundry one Thursday, folding clothes and putting them in a basket. She was generally very careful when she folded her underwear and put away her bras, she usually had her back turned to me. This evening was different, as she folded several pair of small lacy panties facing me I was without the will power to look away.

“Do you like those Paul?”

Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar I quickly looked down in embarrassment.

“It’s okay Paul, it really is. I bought them thinking he might stay home and be with me instead of running with his high school friends. It didn’t work, I even bought a slinky see through nightie. You know what the idiot said when I walked down the hall wearing nothing under it as he watched TV? Get some clothes on, you’ll be cold in that get up.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around such stupidity, had she done that in my home I’d have jumped her bones and rode her hard all night. My mouth must have been hanging open, smiling she put her finger under my chin and lifted it.

“What would you do with a woman like me Paul? Be honest.”

I thought, what the hell, I might get my face slapped, but I was going to tell her exactly what I was thinking.

“I would have jumped off that couch, put you over my shoulder and slapped your ass a few times as I carried you to the bedroom, I would have tossed her your sexy ass onto the bed and stripped, my face would have been between your legs so fast it would take your breath away. After you came on my face a few times I would have slid up your body and driven my cock inside so deep you’d choke, while I pumped you I’d be sucking your tits until you screamed as I filled your little kitty with sperm. Is that clear enough?”

Her face was red as a fire hydrant, good thing there were no dogs around. Her breathing was shallow and staggered, almost as if she were hyperventilating. Putting her hand to her chest she looked in my face.

“Really? You would do all that? Oh my, I’ve been missing out. Listen, I’m not a slut, but would you do that to me? Please? He’ll be gone fishing all weekend.”

I agreed telling her to come in the patio door to the back so as not to give the gossips anymore ammunition than they already possessed. I asked if she’d like to go out somewhere, she blushed a little.

“No, I want you to do with me what you said. Should I bring my see-through nightie along? Paul … I don’t shave. Will that be an issue?”

“It won’t be for me, I like a woman who looks like a woman. And yes, absolutely bring that nightie and some of those sexy panties, we won’t be naked the entire weekend.”

She had a surprised look on her face, “Wait, you want me to stay the weekend? Are you sure?”

“I am if you are Em, I’d love to ravish your body all weekend. That way the smell of sex can be in my apartment and not something you have to explain when your worthless husband gets home. We’ll quit early enough so you can get home to shower, douche and change.”

Another surprised look, “Douche? I haven’t done that in ages. Why?”

“Because a man knows if his wife’s pussy is full of cum, and if he hasn’t been with her he knows it’s somebody else’s cum, if he happens to get home horny you’ll be safe.”

More blushing, “Pussy, he never calls it my pussy, it’s always a vagina. I like pussy better, it’s not so clinical sounding. What time Friday?”

“I’m home by three at the latest, any time after that. I’ll cook supper, you bring the ice cream.”

We were the only ones present during our rather revealing conversation, she stood, grabbed her basket, leaned down to kiss me and whispered. “Tomorrow at four, leave the patio doors unlocked. I’m all tingly inside, I can hardly wait.”

I drove Friday’s route from habit, my mind was anywhere but on the job, I couldn’t get her out of my head. How the hell could any guy ignore a beautiful young thing like that? She never dressed provocatively but it was quite apparent she was well endowed in all aspects of her sexuality. I intended to let that sexuality loose over the weekend, she’d find out what it was like to have her body worshipped and adored. I knew from earlier conversations that she was on the pill, I’d recently had myself tested not always knowing where I was dipping my wick, I was clean as a whistle. It would be a weekend of bareback, making love and knock down dragged out fucking if she could handle it.

She strode through my patio door at exactly four, carting an overnight bag and a smaller bag with what looked like clothes. In a few hours I would find out it was lingerie she’d purchased that he never liked and she was going to wear it for me. I’d made cobb salads with grilled chicken breast and a cheesecake for dessert. As I was cleaning the kitchen she asked if I wanted her to shower.

“No, I want to smell the sex oozing from your body when we lay down, don’t wash that away.”

Smiling she excused herself heading toward the bedroom. As I was starting the dishwasher I looked to see her standing in the doorway wearing nothing but the sheer nightie, no panties, no bra, nothing but her birthday suit beneath it. I could do nothing but stare, her breasts were great, allow me to recant that statement, her breasts were wonderful. They stood straight and proud the way a young woman’s tend to do, perfectly cone shaped with tight nipples pushing against the fabric. Looking down I saw a thick V shaped patch of dark brown curls matching the hair color on her head.

By now the only head I was thinking with was the one on the end of my cock, I did what I told her I would do. I walked to her, reached around grabbing her ass while pulling her into me as we kissed, I picked her up by her butt cheeks and threw her over my shoulder. Walking down the hall I smacked her ass not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make her squeal.

“You’re a naughty girl Emily, you don’t have panties on, I might have to punish you with my rod of correction.”

Her response completely caught me off guard, “Please don’t hurt me daddy. I’ll do anything you want daddy, you can have my pussy.”

Ah, she wanted to role play, I can do that. I smacked her a second time as we walked through the door, lifting her off my shoulder I tossed her onto the bed. I was stripping as she was giggling and scooting to the middle. I grabbed an ankle and pulled her back to me, with her legs hanging over the edge at her knees I opened her legs, pushed them alongside her body and dove in face first. Her smell was erotic and seductive, not offensive, but strong, her pussy was coated with juices before my lips ever touched her pouting thick labia.

Her hands were behind her knees holding herself open, as I felt her body begin to tense she let go of her legs and wove her fingers into my hair. Over and over she whispered “yes” until I felt her body tremble, she wasn’t loud or throwing herself around, pushing her pussy up into my face and breathing heavy was the whole of it. I licked until the second one hit, that must have stirred a primal feeling inside, she uttered out loud, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” this time her body convulsed as she pushed upward off the bed. I didn’t slow down until her butt dropped back to the bed and she pushed me away.

She lay there silent for what seemed an eternity, it was well over three minutes before she stirred, and then only to straighten her body. Reaching her arms to me I moved up the bed and lay with her. We didn’t speak, she wanted to kiss, as we broke she licked my lips.

“I’ve never tasted a pussy before, am I how all pussies taste? Paul how do you know to do all those things, Jeff has eaten me and I’ve cum, but never like this. I came so hard I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or having an out of body experience. You have a nice big cock, I can only imagine how it’s going to make me feel. I want you to teach me everything you can this weekend.”

“Not all pussies are as sweet as yours Em, you have a perfect blend of honey like nectar and arousal, it made my dick so hard I hurt.”

“I’m not very good at it but I can give you a blow job.”

I laughed, “Honey, the only place my cum is destined this weekend is in your delicious little pussy. You’re on the pill and we’re both clean, I intend to fill you so full of cum you slosh when you walk.”

I sensed she was near tears, “I wish I was with you and not Jeff, I want a baby so bad, but not if he’s going to be like he is. If I wasn’t married to him you could put a baby in me. I would love that.”

I had a finger inside the tiny opening to her vagina, moving it in and out slowly, the juices building rapidly, it was time to put a load inside her sweet cunny.

“It’s time we get down to business, are you ready? We’ll start missionary but I doubt we’ll finish that way.”

As I moved on the bed her answer was to spread her legs and bend them at the knee, a perfect saddle for me to lie in, the thin trail of hair along the labia were like guiding lights drawing my dick to her opening. As the tip of my cock touched her sopping wet pussy she put her hands on my ass and pulled me in, I’m not a huge man by any means, but the six and a half I do possess has never let me down. As I entered she commented.

“Oooo, you’re cut. Jerry isn’t, I think I like this better, it certainly opens me wider.”

About halfway to bottoming out she stopped pulling me in. In not much more than a whisper she talked to me.

“You’re bigger than Jerry, I need a minute to relax and get used to how thick you are. I feel like you’re gonna split me in two, but I like it and I know it’ll feel good once I can take all of it.”

When she raised her hips slightly and wiggled to accept more of me I finished the process of burying my meat deep inside her cunt, three strokes later when my balls hit her as she moaned and whispered “more”.

It was slow and gentle, all my plans for not cumming in her missionary went out the window when she started to go off begging me to cum inside her. My balls erupted and my cock launched volley after volley of thick white seed deep within her. I could feel it hit the cervix, she could as well, I heard her say again and again, “I can feel it”.

When I had softened to the point that I was dropping out she whined, “No, not yet I want more.”

An hour and twenty minutes later I had her on her tummy with a thick rolled cushion type pillow under her abdomen, her ass was pointed up and her pussy was protruding beyond her thighs as though it was begging to be fucked. Hovering over her I swiped my dick up and down over her labia then positioned the head at her opening and pushed forward, her back arched as she pushed back and let out a long soft moan when my pelvis touched her ass.

“This is so good Paul, it’s deep, my pussy is tingling all over. I’ve never had it like this before, put your cum deep inside me.”

I never could hold out very long in that position, there was just too much stimulation, I surprised myself by holding out over fifteen minutes before I arched my back and slammed into her hungry little cunt one last time. It felt like the end of my dick was going to explode, I was cumming so hard it made my nuts hurt, she in turn was pushing back and squealing as her ass shook and her hips humped. She kept yelling.

“Ohh, ohh, ohh. My god it’s so deep, I can feel you Paul, I can feel you.”

At four something the next morning she was on hands and knees as I plowed into her from behind, my hands grasping her hips, our skin making slapping noises as we collided, her knees were spread, her back was arched, she wanted every fraction of an inch I could provide. I thought I would last longer than the twenty minutes I did having cum only hours before, but that tight cunt was sucking the life out of me, there would be no holding back, I let loose with a loud bellow.

Saturday we woke mid-morning, I made us breakfast, afterward we lounged about until early afternoon when she excused herself headed to the bedroom. Ten minutes later she stood at the end of the hall in a white lacy shelf bra, nipples exposed above the half cups, and a pair of white bikini panties with the words “fuck me” in bold red letters across the front. My cock was instantly hard, we’d been in just underwear so there was no hiding it. I uttered half under my breath.

“Holy shit girl, you look fantastic.”

“Jerry didn’t like it, he said I looked slutty.”

I chuckled, “He’s a fool. Get your slutty little ass over here girl, I’m gonna dine at the wye again.”

Standing in front of me she put her hands on mine to keep me from pulling the panties down.

“Paul, I want to try something I’ve never done. My closest friend at work says she sits on her husband’s face and he eats her. Have you ever done that?”

“Let me slide those panties down and I’ll show you. No, don’t take the bra off, leave them just as they are.”

I pulled her panties off and lay back on the couch, she squatted over my face and lowered until her pussy met my mouth. About seven minutes later she was screaming and begging to be fucked, I had taken off the bra and had ahold of her tits as she exploded, the nipples were hard and distended, I had to have them in my mouth. Laying with a nipple in my mouth she said softly.

“I need you again, I need you inside me.”

“Then slide down my body and stick my cock in your pussy.”

“I’ve never done it like that before. What should I do after you’re in me?”

I laughed softly, “Oh, you’ll know once you’re impaled on my cock.”

And boy howdy did she ever, she stroked up and down, back and forth, she ground her clit against my pubic bone and when the time came for a climax to flood our bodies she was slamming her body up and down with great fervor. My nether region was flooded with girl cream mixed with my own, we were both a sloppy mess, after a quick shower we were under the cover for a nap. I called for Chinese delivery just after six, by seven she had excused herself once more, this time appearing in a body stocking with her breasts hanging out and a large opening for her cunt or ass to be fucked.

For whatever reason there was a lot of foreplay before we made love, it was an hour later that we tripped the light fandango one more time. As we lay awake before sleep overtook us she asked me a very poignant question.

“Have you ever done anal Paul?”

Which way to answer this, do I lie and tell her no, or do I fess up and let her know I’ve been buried balls deep in more than one asshole. It wasn’t going to happen between us, not with only a matter of hours before our sex-fest was over.

“As a matter of fact, I have. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, you hear about things but never do them. I just wondered, does it hurt?”

“It does if it isn’t done right. It takes a lot of preparation the first time Em, it usually isn’t something that just happens unless the guy is small and it slips in. Are you wanting to try?”

She sighed, “I don’t think so, I just wondered. I need to sleep, can we do it again in the morning before I have to leave?”

“Yes baby, we can. Have you ever done it with your ankles on his shoulders?” She shook her head. “Then that’s what we’ll do in the morning, think about that for a minute, nothing to get in the way of fucking you senseless. Your pussy will be wide open.”

She repeated, “Wide open, that sounds good.”

She was savvy enough to give me a good fuck, but her naivety was also a turn on. When she went home she would never settle for average again, I felt badly for dipshit, he won’t know what hit him. When we woke she didn’t want breakfast, she wanted me to do her ankles on shoulder. I once again managed to go longer than I thought I would, I looked at the clock when we began and eighteen minutes later I deposited my last load of the weekend inside her very appreciative young body. Her body didn’t slosh when she walked, but she was definitely full of cum.

It was two weeks later I saw her in the laundry, she had a new awareness about her, one of seductive confidence. As we were folding clothes she looked at me and smiled.

“Leave the patio doors open, I’m coming over as soon as I drop off the basket. I want you one last time.”

I was confused, “One last time, what does that mean?”

“I’m going back to Santa Fe, Jerry will be served tomorrow as I’m pulling out of town. He called me a slut for wanting to try the things you taught me, so … fuck him. Or should I say I’m gonna fuck you? This will be our last time Paul, thank you for opening my eyes.”

I thought it might be a lovey dovey make out session, silly me, she wanted to fuck and fuck hard. We finished with me behind pounding for all I was worth. It was a kiss at the door and, “I’ll never forget you, thanks Paul”.

As the haystack was placed before me I was brought back to the present. When Elma asked if I needed anything else I shook my head and proceeded to have breakfast. It became a common occurrence for Elma to wait on me. When they had moved her to mornings they’d also hired a young thing to work alongside her, she was nineteen at the most, liked to swish her ass around, jiggle her oversized tits and flirt.

The morning she served me and asked what sort of tip I had for her while looking at my crotch I knew exactly where she stood, knowing instinctively it wasn’t where I wanted to be. I like pussy, but not what she was offering. As I finished Elma began to bus the table, she looked at me and spoke softly.

“She’s awfully brassy, she’ll find herself in trouble if she isn’t careful.”

I asked, “trouble”?

She said, “You know” as she made a bubble type movement over her tummy, ah, knocked up, now I got it.

Over the next few months we got to know one another fairly well, if it were slow she would sit and have a coffee while I ate. She had a slight accent, when I inquired she told me it was Swiss, she had been working on an Army base in Germany, met and married a young GI returning to the states with him in the early 80’s. What she thought was a dream romance quickly fell apart when she discovered he had three children with other girls from before, she was six months pregnant when he announced he was going to divorce and marry one of the others.

Considering she had worked for the government prior she was able to land a job with the state, one she had retired from fifteen months ago and worked part time at the diner because she was bored. She raised her son all alone, he was now a major in the Air Force flying helicopters, beyond that she didn’t know much more of what he did. He was presently stationed in Guam, she had plans to visit him in another six months.

I noticed as time went on that we’d become very comfortable with one another, It probably bordered on flirting at times, something we either missed or chose to overlook purposely. She would laugh and touch my hand, or giggle schoolgirl like and blush, other times I would make comments about something or another to flatter her or remark about something new. When she changed her hairstyle slightly I commented that I liked it, she just smiled and her face flushed with redness, oh my gosh, she was blushing.

Chatting with her over breakfast one morning I began to think about the situation. I was weeks away from thirty-six and found myself being attracted to an older woman, and I don’t mean a few years, probably close to double my age. I was thinking about her a lot, not in a sexual horny way, although she still had what it takes to turn a head or two. I initially thought of something more along the lines of someone fun to be around, someone to have a meaningful conversation with.

I was entertaining thoughts of asking her to dinner but would always override those with the thought of her laughing at me and telling me to find someone my own age. As I pulled into the parking lot Friday morning I decided I would dig deep and find the courage to ask her out to dinner Saturday night. She was only seventeen miles from where I lived, which in my world was no more than a hop, skip, and jump. I changed my order to French toast which made her stop and smile.

“What’s this all about Paul? I can’t recall the last time you didn’t order the haystack.”

“I don’t know, feeling adventurous I suppose. Speaking of adventurous, how would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? We could go to the supper club on highway 13.”

She laughed, “You don’t want to be hanging around with an old woman like me, but thanks. I’m flattered, be right back with your order.”

I was finishing up when she brought the check, sitting across from me she had a serious look on her face.

“You were serious weren’t you.” I nodded. “Surly there are women more your age for a dinner date. That’s what you were implying wasn’t it, a dinner date?”

“That’s exactly what I was implying Elma, and don’t call me Shirley.” She was laughing. “Is there a reason beyond me being younger that you can’t or won’t go?”

Her fingers strummed the table as she looked around the room, finally turning to me she spoke.

“None at all. I have to say I’m flattered, truly flattered. If you have no compunctions about going out to dinner with an old broad like me, I have none about being seen with a young handsome man. What time?”

After getting her address and phone number I told her I’d pick her up at six, and that I was going to dress in more than jeans and a shirt. I wore casual dress slacks, a dress shirt without a tie and a light sport coat, she had on a lovely floral print dress along with a shoulder wrap. It was obvious she’d spent extra time doing her hair and makeup which she seldom wore at the diner. I commented on how lovely she looked, she simply took my extended elbow and said softly, “Thank you.”

I’ve always been a door opening kind of guy when it came to ladies, it was something my dad had done and it’s something I always do. She commented on my chivalry and good manners once we were on our way. Dinner was excellent along with the conversation that followed, it had been an hour since we sat down, noticing there were others waiting to be seated we decided to go. She asked if I had long term plans, I told her I was quite satisfied doing what I was doing, the pay was decent, I had good benefits and it was basically a no stress job.

She turned to me, “Think you’ll ever marry, or did the longtime girlfriend leaving destroy that forever?”

I had to think a moment, “I think if I met the right woman I’d marry, but who wants to get attached to a guy in his thirties? A lot of women think that’s too old to start a family.”

“Oh, pish posh, whoever said that is as ignorant as the day is long. Lots of time to be a daddy at your age. I’ll tell you this Paul, if I was thirty years younger I wouldn’t mind having your shoes under my bed. But, that boat sailed a long while ago.”

I looked at her with a quizzical look on my face, “Why would you say that? You’re attractive and well put together, I think you sell yourself short Elma. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

She laughed a little looking out the window into the darkness, then turned to me, “How old do you think I am Paul?”

“I’m going out on a limb here so don’t be upset with me, fifty-nine, maybe sixty.”

She belly laughed and then put her hand on mine, “Oh you sweet, sweet man. I’ll turn sixty-four in three weeks, thank you for seeing me as younger, you sure know how to sweet talk a gal.”

When she leaned to put her hand on mine I noticed her dress had ridden up slightly, the far side was high enough I could see the clip from the strap on what I thought was her garter belt. As she turned back to look out the windshield she quickly adjusted her dress pulling it down while looking at me, I’d managed to look away before she caught me, from the corner of my eye I saw her smile and mumble something to herself. She invited me in for a coffee and piece of cake before leaving for home, I’d grown up sitting around the kitchen table, sitting in the kitchen with her seemed the most natural thing.

As I was walking to the door she reached for my hand and stopped me, “Thank you for a wonderful evening, I haven’t been on a date for two decades or more. You’ve been a real gentle man, thank you.”

I told her I’d see her Monday morning and went my way. My mind didn’t wander to the perverse, I had respect for her and we’d had fun, but I wasn’t fantasizing about having her in bed. I didn’t even know if she did such things anymore, some people stop at an early age. Considering she hadn’t been with a man in twenty years I wouldn’t be surprised if she were no longer interested in such activity. I had to cover another guy’s route on Wednesday and Thursday so didn’t have time to stop for breakfast, Friday morning Elma smiled as I walked in.

“Hey stranger, where you been?”

I explained my situation, told her I’d have the usual and made my way to relieve the pressure on my bladder. A cup of black coffee was waiting for me as I sat down, a few minutes later Elma sat a plate in front of me, it was busy enough that she didn’t have time to sit until a few minutes before I was due to leave. Handing me the check I motioned for her to sit, which she did.

I grinned, “So, where are we going tomorrow night?”

She smiled, “Going? I wasn’t aware we were going anywhere. Did you have something in mind?”

“There’s a new restaurant in Overland, I’ve been delivering to them for more than a month, from what I’m delivering they must do a pretty good business. I talked with one of the owners this morning, he said Saturday is impossible without a reservation, so I booked one for two at seven tomorrow evening. Wanna go?”

She chuckled, “Of course I want to go you goof ball. What girl could turn down an invite like that?”

As I handed her a twenty and told her no change she leaned close to my face. “I bought a new dress this week along with some accessories.” Looking around she whispered. “Some new undies.”

Like a shot she was gone and I was headed to the truck. Telling me she bought some new underwear seemed a bit unusual for her, then again, we’d been talking for months and were fairly comfortable with one another. Maybe it wasn’t so strange, maybe she was simply sharing something with me. At any rate I wasn’t going to give it anymore thought, I’d pick her up at six the next night and that was what was on my mind. I told her I would be wearing a coat and tie, she said she’d dress up as well.

Considering it was going to be the second time I took her out I stopped by the florist and grabbed a mixed bouquet on the way back to the warehouse. I stuck them in a small bucket of water overnight so they’d stay fresh, when I gave them to her I thought her heart was going to stop. Clasping her hand to her chest she began to cry softly.

“Oh my. Oh my, this is too much. No one has given me flowers since my son did when he graduated from the Air Force Academy. They’re lovely Paul, simply lovely. I’ll put them in some water so we can go, I’ll arrange them after dinner. Save room for dessert, I baked a cheesecake today and I have some cherry topping to go with it.”

The restaurant was on Cooley Lake and was called The Cabin. Along with the regular fanfare found at most high-end eating establishments they also offered certain wild game in season. We both ordered the pheasant and were not disappointed in the least, it had been a tossup between the pheasant and a bison steak. The ambiance was pleasant, the lighting was low in a romantic sort of way, it was after we ate and were talking I took in her beauty.

She’d worn a black pencil dress, no, not skin-tight showing off every curve, but still flattering to her figure. Along with that she wore a light white sweater, matching pearl necklace and earrings, and what I figured were three-inch black heels. What had caught my attention when I first saw her was that the dress ended three to four inches above her knees, I then realized she had the legs to pull off something like that at sixty-three. The sheer black seamed stockings made her look all the more appealing. Ever notice how seamed stockings will catch your eye in an instant, one can’t help but look at her legs.

We sat and talked following the meal, nothing serious or earth shattering, it was slow so we didn’t feel pressured to leave. As I opened the car door for her she made sure she was as close as possible without touching my body with hers, holding her hand as she sat I couldn’t help but notice her legs again. I started the car and was strapping myself in when I looked at her.

“I love that perfume. What is it.?”

“It’s called Cherry Blossom Spring, it’s an oil, I have to order it. I used to order over the phone, now I can do it online and they send it right to my door. Much easier than running to the city where I used to pick it up. I’m glad you like it.”

At the house I made each of us a cup of coffee on the Keurig, by the time I’d finished that and put two dessert plates on the table along with a fork for each, she had the flowers arranged and had taken the cheesecake from the fridge. I love cheesecake and like a pig I ate two pieces, she seemed to like the fact that I had an appetite. Walking to the door as I was getting ready to leave she once again took my hand and stopped me.

“I had a wonderful time Paul, I really enjoy being with you. You’re fun and easy to talk with.”

I sensed she was waiting for me to do or say something, a half-smile on her face, the look of wonder in her dark brown eyes. Taking a chance I leaned forward to kiss her, it was soft and tender, her lips seemed to be inviting me to continue, then she pulled back. I thought it was goodnight, what she did next threw me for a curve, in a flash her lips were back on mine, soft, warm, it felt like my lips melted into hers. We kissed with a sense of passion another thirty seconds or so until she pushed back, red faced, looking flustered, her lipstick was smeared, laughing softly she tried wiping it off my lips.

“Oh my, please accept my apology, I’m being a bit fresh aren’t I? In my day a girl would never kiss a boy like that on a second date. I feel a little like a floozy, sorry.”

I laughed, “A floozy? Elma there is no way you could be a floozy as you call it. I assume that means being a bit loose and fancy free.”

Still smiling with a hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder she sort of half giggled like a schoolgirl, “It was a rather nice kiss wasn’t it? I’m simply not used to this sort of attention. You’re a fine young man, are you sure you want to be taking me out to dinner and such?”

“As sure as my name is Paul. I enjoy being with you and to be frank, I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet someone as nice as you after what Sherry did to me. As far as I was concerned loyalty and being faithful were dead.”

Stepping back she slowly opened the door, I felt like she wanted me to stay, at the same time she looked embarrassed and conflicted. As I turned she took hold of my sleeve and stopped me, she kissed me softly one more time and whispered, “Those things aren’t dead Paul, you just need the right woman. Goodnight, I had a wonderful time.”

I drove home thinking about what a joy it was to be with someone mature enough to carry on a conversation and still find a way to be intimate without having to be horny and ready to screw. If she wanted to turn our dates into something more I wouldn’t resist, at the same time I wasn’t going to push it.

Monday morning I noticed a subtle change in Elma, her hair was done up, nothing fancy, but more than the usual, she’d put on a bit of makeup and what caught my eye immediately was the fact she was wearing lipstick, a subtle alluring shade of light red.

When she brought my usual I commented. “Really like the lipstick, is that the same color I had to wash off my face Saturday night?”

She blushed, “Shhh, people will hear you, and yes, it is. Do you really like it, or are you trying to curry favor with me?”

Between mouthfuls I uttered, “Both. Is it working?”

She patted my hand as she walked away, stopping a foot away she turned and looked in my eyes, “More than you know.”

As I was paying I gently took her hand, “I won’t see you again until Thursday, some sort of mandatory safety training. By the way, when did you say your birthday was?”

She laughed, “I didn’t sneaky Pete, it’s tomorrow if you must know.”

I wasn’t five miles down the road when my phone rang, it was Elma, without so much as a greeting she asked, “Where are you taking me for my birthday? Do you dance?”

“I do a little, not what the kids call dancing now, but I can still jitterbug and slow dance. Gleason’s has a dance hall attached that has a band on Saturday nights. Would you like to go there?”

Her voice sounded excited as she answered, “That sounds good, but I’ll forewarn you I can’t carry on like I did in my youth, I probably won’t last more than forty-five minutes on the dance floor.”

The rest of the day found me pondering new thoughts. After Saturday night I was certain she knew how to kiss with passion, and if I was being honest with myself I did feel aroused when we kissed, not enough for an erection, but it wouldn’t have taken much more. Her body was soft and inviting, I could barely feel her breasts against me, but they felt soft and caress able, who knows, maybe even suck able. Oh well, things of that nature would have to wait. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why I was so enamored by this woman old enough to be my mom, especially when there was pussy half her age on call anytime I wanted it. Or was I latently having mommy issues? Nah, I’d never thought of mom in those terms.

On Sunday afternoon I got a booty call from one of the divorcees across the courtyard. I surprised myself when I turned her down using an upset stomach as an excuse. My stomach was just fine, and I don’t know what it was, but something inside told me to not go over and ravage her body. I ordered roses to be delivered to Elma at work Tuesday between mid-morning and lunch when they were the slowest.

When I walked into the diner Thursday morning there stood my sweet Elma behind the counter with a smile from ear to ear. When she brought me coffee she spoke in a loud whisper.

“If this place wasn’t full I’d kiss you right here. Thank you Paul, you made yesterday the best birthday ever and that’s saying a lot for a sixty-four-year-old broad.”

I patted her hand, “I made reservations at Gleason’s for six, is that too early?”

“Oh no, that will be perfect. I’m so excited, I haven’t danced in years.”

On Friday morning the roses were still displayed prominently on the far end of the counter, when I walked in she came around the counter, walked to me and gave me a hug with one arm while she balanced my coffee in her other hand. As I sat she snickered.

“They all suspect it’s you who sent the roses, so I thought I’d give them something to talk about. I’m taking tomorrow off to pamper myself, beauty parlor, a mani and pedi, you know, the usual stuff a girl does for her birthday dinner with a handsome man. That would be you by the way.”

It was an extremely busy morning, she told me she’d see me at five the next night and waved goodbye as I left. I decided Saturday night should be special and wore a brown windowpane suit, a light green dress shirt with French cuffs and a tie with similar colors. When she opened the door my eyes bugged out of my head, for 64 she sure looked inviting. A teal colored dress with three quarter sleeves, a scoop neck showing the beginning of cleavage, a flared skirt and matching heels, what caught my eye and made my dick want to rise was that her skirt was just a bit past midthigh. The shimmer of the stockings brought it all together.

She had the petite filet and I had the queen cut prime rib, end cut, both excellent meals. We made the choice to go sit in the bar until the band started at eight so others could eat. She had a glass of wine while I slowly drank two tap beers. As the band was setting up we found a booth at the back and waited. She kept saying “this is gonna be the best birthday yet” every few sentences.

We danced a few faster ones until the bump and grind crowd began to take over the floor, when a slow set began it was our turn. We were in the traditional dance position, my hand on the small of her back, her hand on my shoulder, her right hand in mine. As the first song neared the end she leaned forward and put her head on my chest, it also brought her body closer to mine. Having taken my coat off earlier I could feel the softness and warmth of her breasts, I also unexpectedly felt her tummy press softly against mine.

I was going to escort her to our booth when another slow song began, she stopped and moved in to dance with me. Once again her head was on my chest, this time her body was a bit closer than before, she seemed to be the aggressor in the situation so I let her have control. With the song about half over she looked up and kissed me, a long, soft deep kiss. When her tongue touched my lips I took over, drawing her in tight, tight enough she couldn’t help but feel my body.

Sitting in the booth she got a serious look on her face. “Paul, I’ve been talking with Timothy, my son, he wants me to move to Guam with him. It won’t be for another four months, but I’ve decided to go. I’m telling you this because tonight you’re going to give me the best birthday present ever.”

I sat back, “I am? And what might that be?”

She smiled, “You.” I pointed at myself and mouthed me? “Yes, you’re going to take me home and make love with me. Don’t say a word until I finish. I want you to be my lover until I leave, I’m old enough to know what I want, I don’t need to be wined and dined although I love the attention. You don’t strike me as the kiss and tell type, so, I’m going with my gut feeling. I haven’t had feelings toward a man like I do for you in a decade, I want to be loved and I want you to be my lover.”

Taking a deep breath she held her hand up for me to stay quiet, “I’m not a spring chick, I don’t have little tight pink titties any longer, mine are older and show a bit of sag, but they still possess some bounce. They tend to lay to the side some when I’m on my back but the nipples still point toward the ceiling. I have stretch marks and wrinkles and everything else that comes with my age. I’m sure I won’t be able to go all night like I once did, but there are lots of ways to satisfy and I’ll do my best to make sure you never go without. I’m going to the ladies, think about it and let me know when I return.”

In my mind there was nothing to think about beyond I would absolutely love to bed this older woman. When she returned I stood letting her move to the inside, looking at me she said, “Well?”

The way I answered startled her initially until she sensed what I was conveying. I put my right hand on the inside of her leg just above the knee and slid it up her inner thigh. Her first reaction was to close her legs tight, I didn’t move my hand as I looked in her eyes, she grinned and relaxed allowing my hand to move up over the stocking tops, then along the straps which weren’t attached to a belt but rather her panties. She let out a quiet “Uhhhh” when my fingers touched paradise, her panties weren’t wet but they were warm and damp, with her dress up I could smell her arousal. Sweet and tangy, mixed with a faint smell of her perfume, I remembered my ex would often put a dab on her upper thighs at times.

She put her hand over mine and moved it down as we kissed. “Do you like the garter panties? My mom always wore them, when I found them a few years ago I bought three pair, considering I prefer to wear stockings if it isn’t beastly hot I bought several more, it sure beats having to half undress to pee.”

With lust in her eyes she touched my face, “Take me home Paul, I haven’t felt this passionate in I don’t know how long. I want you to take me, to make me yours, now a days I think they call it owning a girl. I want that Paul, let’s go, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

I whispered to her, “We need to sit a minute, I’m sticking up like a flagpole.”

That comment brought her hand to my crotch where she rubbed up and down, “Oh my, you’re a big boy aren’t you. I think I’ve struck gold, I won’t touch you anymore until we’re in the car.”

My car doesn’t have one of those wide consoles, it’s narrow enough she could reach across and place her hand on the inside of my right thigh. She didn’t rub or grab my dick, her hand simply stayed on my thigh as if to say, “this is mine now”.

Things started slow at her house, we hung our coats, I ditched my suit jacket and sat on the couch while she fiddled with something in the coat closet, walking back to me she extended her hand.

“Come, we need to get busy before I get cold feet.”

In the bedroom she turned out the lights, leaving just enough light from outside to see, but without much detail. As she loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt I found the zipper in the back and pulled it down. Not a word was said as she pulled the shirt from my pants tossing it onto a chair, my pants were next leaving me in just underwear. I pulled the sleeves of the dress over her arms and let it drop, she stepped to the side so I could pick up my trousers and her dress placing them on the chair.

Standing in her full slip I reached for the hem lifting, as it got higher she raised her arms and let me remove it. With her in garter panties and a bra, me in only my underwear we stood looking at one another in the dark, taking a step to me she put her arms around my neck and kissed me tenderly before she spoke.

“Can we leave the lights out tonight? I don’t want you to see every wrinkle, stretch mark and blemish I have before you make love to me. You can see me in the morning if you want to, but can we do it in the dark? Please?”

With her arms around my neck and my lips on hers I unclasp the bra and pulled it forward, we pulled apart never looking anywhere but each other’s eyes. Sliding the bra off I cupped her breasts and used them to softly bring her body to mine, she giggled.

“Your chest hair tickles my nipples, I like that.”

I played with her breasts as we stood kissing, they weren’t all saggy and flopping down, there was droop, but then what woman doesn’t have some droop at sixty-four. They were soft and yet firm, as I caressed and shaped them with my hands she softly moaned into my mouth, when her hips tilted upward pushing into me I knew it was time to take over. I slowly pushed her back to the bed, when the back of her knees made contact with the mattress she buckled and sat, pushing her back into a prone position I hooked my fingers in the waist of her panties. When I said softly “lift” I was able to get them beneath her butt.

Unclipping the stockings she lay there, I rolled them down her legs and hung them on the chair with the rest, sliding the panties off I knelt looking at as much pussy as I could see in the moonlight. The hair was no longer dark, though her bush wasn’t very big it was still plentiful, long, and silky, between her legs there was just a narrow strip along the labia on each side. Leaning above her body I breathed her sensual aroma, not at all overwhelming and yet very inviting at the same time. When I kissed her mound though the hair she responded by putting her hand on my head playing with my hair.

“You don’t have to do that Paul.”

My response, “Oh yes I do, lay back Elma, let me take things from here.”

With a hand under each butt cheek I lifted her into my face, I kissed the vulva, her inner thighs and licked her from bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. She whimpered like a little girl, when the stiffness of my tongue spilt the outer labia she lifted her hips. As I licked upward my tongue opened the inner labia causing her to groan deeply and put her other hand on my head. Her hips were already undulating and I hadn’t touched her clit, deciding I’d teased enough I opened the hood over her clit and sucked the nub between my lips gently, all the while bathing it with my tongue.

Her hips were moving up and down as she continually whispered my name, “Paul, so good Paul, it’s been so long, so good.”

I felt her body begin to tighten along with a change in her breathing pattern, when she lifted her legs alongside her body and used her fingers to pull the labia apart exposing her clit I attacked. In seconds she let out a wail and her hands went to her breasts, squeezing, pulling them, pinching the nipples. Her hips were moving about the bed as she came and I was hanging on, I licked like a kitten at a milk saucer bringing her to more orgasms until she yelled, “No … no more … Please.”

I lay in the dark with a smile on my face, I was pleased that I’d brought this lovely older lady some satisfaction, that she felt relaxed and sated for the moment. Her breathing was light and sparse, as I sat she dozed off while I watched her body in the diffused light. She was right, her breasts did splay to the sides a little, her tummy was flat, I ran my fingers through her bush enjoying the softness caressing my fingers. As her eyes opened she reached out her arms beckoning to me.

Taking the initiative I lowered my lips to kiss her breast, she instantly put her hand under it and shaped it into a cone, the nipple being prominently centered, I sucked it into my mouth. Another deep groan, I was feeling quite proud of myself. When I switched to the other side she did the same, offering up a nipple to suck on, another groan followed by a series of choppy breaths. I found myself wondering if she’d cum from nipple paly alone.

With her hands on the sides of my head she lifted me to kiss her, when we broke she pulled back and stroked my face.

“You sweet man, you didn’t have to do that. I could never understand why a man would want to do such a thing, I always thought it was repugnant. My late husband would never do that, but now that I’ve tasted myself on your lips it isn’t bad at all. I wouldn’t want to taste anyone else, but now I know I’m not nasty down there.”

“Nasty? Not in the least, you have a lovely inviting aroma, it very much strikes at the essence of my libido, I’m so hard it hurts.”

“Would you want me to do the same for you? I’m not very talented but I’ll try to make you happy.”

I stroked her hair, “Nope, what I want is to be inside you, I want your sweet pussy wrapped around my dick sucking the life out of me. Hopefully my language doesn’t gross you out.”

“If it were anywhere but my bedroom it probably would, I’ve never had a man say the things you just did. It’s kind of naughty, but I think I like it when you talk dirty to me, I always wondered what it would be like to be a naughty girl. Can I be your naughty girl?”

“Open your legs Elma, I have a meat treat for your kitty. I’ll go slow until you let me know you’re ready to take it all.”

As I rose over her she put both hands on my chest, “Just how big are you Paul? It seems awfully long and fat.”

“I think I’m pretty average, my ex measured me once with her sewing tape measure and I know I’m bigger than six inches. No one has complained yet. Is that an issue?”

She chuckled, “No, not at all, I was only curious. Women don’t care how big a guy is if he uses it right, well, unless his is real short and skinny. What did the hubby call somebody like that? Oh yeah, a pencil dick. And that isn’t you Paul, let me put a drop or two of KY on you and then I want my birthday gift.”

I stayed raised above her as she put a few drops on the head of my dick and smoothed it around, lowering myself slightly aligning myself with her vagina I stopped.

“You put it in Elma, show me you really want it.”

Reaching between us she grabbed the shaft and put it at the opening to her vagina, when I felt the tip touch and open her sex I pushed lightly, she was tight but not enough to keep me out. With about half my dick inside she let out a little sigh.

“So big, so much to put inside me.”

I laughed softly, “It’s only halfway.”

“HALFWAY. My God man, you’ll split me in two. Go slow, I can take it, just go slow.”

I did as she asked, taking shallow strokes until I felt her hips move ever so slightly into my down stroke, I pushed a bit farther into her, she was making soft mewling noises and then shocked the hell out of me.

“Yes, just like that. Fill my pussy with your cock, bury that meat deep, give this old lady the screwing of her life. I need this Paul, I need you.”

I loved the sensation of my thick fat head opening her while her vaginal walls grabbed the shaft, sending sensations and feelings of bliss throughout my body. Working myself in further and further as we continued I finally hit bottom, I grunted, she stiffened, I could see a faint smile, her hands went to my ass cheeks and held me against her body.

“Do I have it all? Good. Then make long tender love to me, you can rip me a new pussy tomorrow, tonight will be a first time in a long time, I need it slow and gentle.”

I took a few short strokes to start, pulling out a few inches and then re-entering, by the eight or tenth stroke I was all the way out to the head and then pushed into her completely, she moaned and said softly.

“Oh my, oh yes, oh yes, so deep, so good, you make my pussy tingle, keep doing that.”

I can generally tell when a woman is going to orgasm, there are usually telltale signs of some sort, there had been when I was eating her. Not this time, she suddenly pushed her hips into mine, clamped her hands onto my shoulders digging her nails in, her head was back as she let out a long drawn out moan followed by deep breaths and her body being almost motionless. I didn’t slow down, I continued to stroke, as I felt the rockets getting ready to launch within her hungry old cunt she was now showing signs of another climax, both physically and audibly.

“Cum, cum in me. I want to feel you shoot inside me, I love that feeling. It’s been so long, fill my pussy with your warm creamy sperm, make an old lady feel young again. Fuck me Paulie, fuck me.”

I found myself wondering where that language had come from as I continued driving into her, gone was the “be tender and gentle”, she wanted it planted deep and I was going to oblige. I picked up speed and pushed harder into her, she seemed to relish that, putting her feet on the mattress, bending her knees and driving up into me. As I slammed forward on last time she let loose a scream that could have woken the dead, her body was shaking this time, my balls were erupting inside her hot steamy pussy.

“Oh, I feel it, I feel it. Keep shooting into me, keep shooting. Oh, my it feels so good. Thank you, thank you for giving me the best birthday present ever. You’ve brought the girl in me back to the surface. Thank you.”

I found it interesting and erotic at the same time. I’d never had a woman thank me for making love to her, and certainly not for filling her pussy with a large load of cum that would soon be seeping from her body, trickling toward the sheets. It was a renewal for Elma, it was a first for me. After breakfast the next morning she modeled the garter panties for me, she kept complaining about how old her body looked, I’d finally had enough.

Taking her face in my hands I lifted her to look in my eyes, “You need to stop talking like that, if I found your body repulsive I would go. I don’t need to flatter you for some sex, it’s everywhere these days. I was in bed with you because I wanted to, not because I needed or had to. I find you exciting, I love those

panties and stockings, if you want to make me hard, just let me know you’re wearing that stuff. So, stop talking like that.”

She changed quickly wanting to be screwed in stockings and a belt, with her legs pointed upward I ravaged her body fucking her with mucho gusto until we reached the point of no return. As I filled her body a second time with thick warm liquid squirting from my cock she squirmed and told me how good it felt to have a cock in her.

“Before today I hadn’t felt a cock paint my insides for years, god how I’ve missed that.”

We took a break that afternoon, I needed to get home and a decent night sleep before my morning run, she said she needed to rest or she’d be walking funny for a few days. In the diner Monday morning she didn’t hold back at all, walking to me she kissed me and sat on my lap.

“Good morning Paul. Would you like the usual?”

People were staring at us, we didn’t care, in a low voice I muttered, “What I’d like is you sitting on top riding me.”

Getting up she kissed me again and whispered in my ear, “Come around by five, I’ll have supper ready and you can have me for dessert.”

Over the next four months we tried every position her body could tolerate, she especially liked it from behind with a wedge beneath her tummy to take the pressure off her knees. She was proving the title of the old country song, “Older Women Are Beautiful Lovers” to be entirely true. Within two weeks of our initial get together she stopped working at the diner, my breakfast stops were now at her house where I didn’t always get around to having breakfast. She lived just outside town on a country road, plenty of room to park my rig.

Once I’d woken that sleeping beast within there was no holding her back. I’d gotten my first blow job from her in the kitchen, we’d christened the table, all three kitchen counters, the washing machine and dryer, every room and nearly every piece of furniture in her house. I learned more about the nuances of sex than I ever imagined, the little pats or rubs on my butt as she walked by, gently brushing her chest across mine even though there could have been three feet between us, the stolen kisses, the gentle squeeze of my dick where she thought no one would see.

Before meeting Elma I had become calloused toward the supposed deepness of love between two people, day by day, week by week, she brought me out of that funk. No, we weren’t going to spend the next thirty years having and raising babies, but little by little she was teaching me love can exist in a monogamous relationship. I’d heard my mother say many times, “sex begins in the kitchen”, but never knew what it meant until Elma. Beside our morning soiree’s I would stop in three to four nights a week, if we hadn’t been active in the morning we were at night. I could tell she was tiring as the weeks progressed, when I brought up slowing down to once or twice a week she would have nothing to do with it.

“I’m not going to do that Paul. I’ll never have a season like this again, we aren’t in this for life, although I think we love each other, I’m going to screw you until the day I leave for Guam. Tim is coming home to fly back with me, the day before he is due to arrive you’re going to take off and make love to me as many times as we can in one day. I’ll leave for Guam knowing this grey-haired old pussy was loved and filled with cum right to the very end.”

“What about the house and land Elma, are you going to sell it?”

“Oh, that’s all taken care of.”

I found myself disappointed, I would have loved to buy the place. When that sad day came I took them to the airport, we hadn’t shown any sign of affection in her son’s presence until their boarding call was announced. As we stood she turned to me, walked into my arms, pressing her body into mine as we kissed passionately one last time.

Softly stroking my face she said, “Goodbye my lover. This has been one of the most exciting four months of my life. I’ll never forget you, know in your heart that I’ll always love you. Now that I’m going I want you to find a wife and have some babies. You have too much to offer to be single. Bye lover boy.”

As they walked away I overheard him say, “Lover boy?”

She chuckled, “Your mama isn’t as old as you think young man. I had needs … he took care of them.”

As they approached the chute she turned and waved with a kiss goodbye, smiling from ear to ear. I never did see her again, I got a card from her every year at Christmas until she died, it was her son who sent the card that year telling me his mom had passed.

I did as she told me, I found a wife, in fact it was the farm girl who took Elma’s place when she left. Her name is Fran, becoming my wife only four months after we’d formerly met. She stopped working the diner when she was three months pregnant with our first. We live on what used to be Elma’s place, a week after she’d arrived in Guam I was called by a lawyer and asked to meet him, I wasn’t quite sure what awaited me. I sat in amazement as he handed me the deed to what had been Elma’s home, she had given it to me. Now that we have three more running in the yard I can picture her sitting on the deck watching the kids play with a smile on her face.

As for Fran, she’s the quintessential school mom, soccer mom, housewife and lover. She rocks my world in the bedroom and everywhere else for that matter. When I look at her and our family I’m daily reminded how an older woman was able to bring me back to that place of trust and loving someone after so much hurt earlier in my life. She may have been nearly thirty years older than me, but in the end we were both what the other needed.

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Erotic story preface:

To the real life Merri: this story is dedicated to you. Your encouragement to write this story down, and your kind words about the rest of what I’ve written mean more to me than you’ll ever understand.

To everyone else: this is a different sort of story for me.

It’s something I’ve been working for a long time, going back several years.

It’s about sexual emotion as much as actual sex, so be patient.

It’s a flashback story, that takes place in 1996. Writing it that way was important to me because there are several elements to this story that are based on actual events in my life.

As with most things that I write this story takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don’t worry about std’s or the need for birth control.

Featuring:

Merri: A twenty-nine year old nurse who hires me as a nanny.

Sabrina: a fictionalized version of myself at age twenty, where I really was an awkward dork who worried about her sexual interests, orientation, and identity.

Hello.

I’m Sabrina. Let me tell you the beginning of a story.

It was the fall of 1996. I had just spent the past two years attending community college after graduating from high school.

I was twenty years old and I still lived at home, with my mother and father. Even though most kids my age loathed living at home, I didn’t mind it for the most part.

My parents never imposed a curfew or asked a lot of questions about what I was doing or who I was with. I’d discovered that as long as I had a job, was working my ass off with a full course load and wasn’t being a selfish slob around the house that they were pretty easy to get along with.

The only area of my life where I yearned for more privacy was my masturbation life.

At that point it wasn’t a sex life. Other than masturbation, I had no sex life. I was socially awkward, and much more into horror movies, science fiction and writing poetry than I was anything else.

As a result, I hadn’t had many dates, and the guys who had asked me out had given me the impression they were much more interested in their own orgasms than mine.

I hadn’t yet discovered that there are plenty of guys and girls who find dorks to be quite attractive, so I was very much a sexually inexperienced and frustrated wallflower.

So my sex life consisted entirely of masturbation. I had my own room of course, and my parents always knocked before entering and very much respected my privacy.

But I had to learn to orgasm quietly, and I really didn’t have a place good enough to hide anything good, like a sex toy.

I’d discovered masturbation when I was eighteen, and by the time I turned nineteen I was an aficionada of self-pleasure.

I used my fingers, the handle of two different hairbrushes, my showerhead, an electric toothbrush when no one was home to hear it, and any other phallic shaped item I could find.

I also spent hours with my legs wrapped around a body pillow, simultaneously humping it, clutching it in ecstasy, and biting it to keep from screaming through orgasm after orgasm.

I even discovered an affinity for some kink, and explored that as frequently and as carefully as I could.

But as I happily fantasized about kinky sex and a variety of partners and experiences, I also struggled with extreme shyness, and extreme shame.

I didn’t have anyone to talk to about that stuff, and I secretly feared that some of the stuff I was interested in was abnormal.

And I even feared that I was abnormally fascinated with the kinky things that would be considered normal by the people I knew.

So I kept my sexual interests to myself, and focused on my classes. And on reading. And on using our primitive dial up internet connection to explore my sexuality in private.

In the fall of 1996 right after my twentieth birthday, one of our old neighbors from down the block came to see me about a babysitting job.

She and her husband had lived next door to us for a few years, but they’d divorced, and she’d sold that house and moved about five miles away into a small split-level house. Her former babysitter had just left for college out of state, and she looked me up.

Her name was Meredith and at twenty-nine she was nine years older than me, but we reconnected quickly and were immediately comfortable with each other. She worked as a nurse in at the local hospital and was gone from late afternoon until after midnight most nights, so she needed someone to make the kids dinner and get them to bed.

I accepted the job and would get to her house a few minutes after the kids got off the school bus every afternoon.

As soon as they said goodbye to their mom, I’d get dinner started, find something around the house that needed done like laundry, vacuuming, or dusting, and then feed the kids, help them with homework, play games with them, watch tv, and then chase them to bed.

After two weeks Meredith insisted that I begin to call her Merri. She explained that she’d always spelled it that way to be different from all the other ‘Mary’s’ that she knew.

She gave me a key to her house and announced that she was changing my job title from ‘babysitter’ to ‘part-time nanny’ because of my insistence on helping with cleaning and other household stuff.

Since she worked until well after midnight, I would often sleep for a few hours on her sofa, and then she’d wake me up when she got home so I could drive back to my parents’ house and my own bed.

On one particularly rainy night she woke me up and gave me an extra blanket, insisting that I just stay on the sofa until morning. After that staying the night on the sofa and then heading home early in the morning became the norm for a few weeks.

And then one Monday when I got there, she told me that she’d moved her bedroom downstairs to what had been a game room off the family room. The previous owners had put some money into it, putting in a full bathroom and hot tub down there.

So she christened that the new ‘master’ bedroom, and splurged on herself and purchased a new waterbed and all new bedroom furniture.

She offered me her old bedroom upstairs as a place I could stay whenever I wanted an uninterrupted night of sleep, or the weather wasn’t cooperative.

She let me keep a change of clothes in the closet, and since her old bedroom was the old master bedroom, it had its own bathroom I could use if I needed to shower while I was there.

We fell into a very comfortable routine. Having my own space upstairs made it easier to fall asleep after the kids were in bed, and I got in the habit of staying over a few nights a week.

The worse the weather, the more likely I was to just plan on staying the night, and with the ability to bring a change of clothes and shower there in the morning, I could leave for classes right from there.

My parents didn’t mind this arrangement at all, if I let them know in advance when I would be staying over so they didn’t worry.

Merri seemed like a complete grownup to me, and I often had to remind myself that she was closer to my age than to my mom’s age.

As time went on, I got more and more comfortable with her, and came to regard her more as an almost older sister than anything else. She would ask me about the social aspects of college, and about my dating life (which was nearly non-existent), and she gave me pointers on makeup and clothes.

If I didn’t have class the next day, or if she had the next day off, I’d sometimes be awake when she got home, and we’d sit up and talk for an hour or more.

Occasionally if she’d worked overtime, she’d get home on Friday evening just after nine p.m. and those nights were often like a slumber party, with the two of us sitting in her dark living room and talking and giggling until almost dawn.

I found I could use her as a sounding board, asking questions about dating and boys.

“You know you can ask me anything.” She’d said one night, as we sat on opposite ends of her couch sipping hot tea in the light of a flickering candle.

“I guess so.” I’d replied.

“I mean it.” She said. “When I was your age, I had no one to talk to about dating, or guys, or sex or orgasms or kissing or anything like that. So, if you ever have something you want to talk about, or ask about, no matter what it is, just let me know.”

That exchange stuck with me for weeks, largely because I was so worried about my sexual interests.

While the internet in those days wasn’t what it would soon become, I used it to read all about the things I was interested in.

I read all about oral sex, both giving and receiving. I spent hours touching my swollen clit and wondering what a tongue would feel like flicking over it.

I licked my fingers after touching myself and wondered what it would be like to taste my own arousal on a hard cock after it had been inside me. I wondered if another woman’s aroused clit would taste different than my own did on my fingers.

I read all about giving blow jobs. I wondered endlessly what a male’s cum would taste like, and what it would feel like to have a hard penis ejaculate in my mouth.

I wondered if another woman would really be able to lick my cunt better than a man could.

I would masturbate with the handle one hairbrush in my cunt and the other in my mouth, pretending two different cocks were feeling pleasure from my body at once.

I learned that I wasn’t alone in my sexual interests. But I worried about the intensity of my masturbation sessions.

I sometimes would make myself orgasm two different times in one night, and I’d do so while using a variety of fantasies and imagined scenarios involving both real people and made-up strangers.

And those fantasies also included an entire menu of kinky sex acts that I was sure most people my age had never even considered or heard of.

I worried that I was masturbating too much.

I worried that I was putting too much imagination into it, and that somehow, I should be putting that energy into real sex, and if I couldn’t find real sex I should wait in frustration until I could.

I would sometimes hike into the woods by myself in the summer so I could be undressed and masturbate in the warm summer sun, choosing my locations carefully so I wouldn’t be caught.

In those moments of pure lust I would pretend that I was masturbating in front of a partner.

Or a stranger.

Or a crowd.

I worried that I was somehow sexually broken because I not only enjoyed those things but needed to do them. And I worried about the fact that every time I swore that I would quit I’d end up right back in the middle of my fantasies, sweaty in my bed grunting and grinding my way towards ‘just one more’ orgasm.

Other girls my age were giggling about sex with their boyfriends, or about how to end a blowjob before getting cum in their mouth, and about how much of a mess an aborted blowjob or a handjob could cause.

I listened and laughed along, but desired more than quick sex just to make a guy happy. I wanted to feel a guy cum inside me.

Hell, some nights I felt like I needed to feel a guy cum inside me.

I didn’t want to give a handjob in a dark car. I wanted to do it somewhere that would let me watch every throb and spurt.

I desperately fantasized about male cum. I wanted it in me. I wanted it on me. I wanted to taste it, to smell it, to feel the texture of it on my fingers and skin.

I tried not to dwell on thoughts about females, but my subconscious knew what my body wanted, and at night I would often have feverish dreams about female orgasms.

As much as I struggled to admit it to myself, I craved an opportunity to lick a stiff clitoris, or to kiss and suck on a pair of female breasts and nipples.

I didn’t want a partner to merely touch my breasts. I wanted someone to suck and bite my nipples while I orgasmed. And even though I often started my fantasies with male sexual partners, at the moment of my masturbatory orgasms it was just as likely to be the image of a women using her mouth on me as a man.

I worried that I was desiring things that made me some sort of a pervert or sexual lunatic. I had so many questions that I asked myself repeatedly.

Did girls really want these things?

And if they did, were they things they thought about as frequently as I did?

Did they fantasize about them as vividly as I did?

Did they orgasm while imagining them?

So when Merri offered to answer any questions I might have, I began to wonder how exactly I could bring some of these things up. I didn’t want her to think that I was weird. But I couldn’t go on like I’d been, and I somehow trusted that her responses might be both honest and helpful.

If only I could summon the courage to talk about my thoughts.

In the weeks to come we continued our late-night conversations, sometimes veering towards the subject of dating, but I could never find the right way to move the conversation towards my desired topics.

One night she came in just after midnight and I was still up reading a book about stress management for a paper I was writing. We started talking about the various tensions in each of our lives, and what sort of things we did to manage those feelings.

Eventually she asked me how I coped with the stress in my life.

“Oh the usual ways I guess.” I told her.

“Like what specifically?” she asked.

We were talking quietly, sitting in the downstairs family room.

“Well I try to take a walk in the woods a few times a week when the weather cooperates.” I told her. “And I read a lot.”

“I need to exercise more.” She said. “Maybe sometime that you’re headed out into the woods I could join you.”

“That would be fun.” I said.

“So what else do you do?” she asked. “You don’t really seem to have any hobbies that I’ve noticed. Except for the pile of books you’ve always got with you.”

“I guess reading is my biggest hobby.” I admitted. “And the only other thing in my life that I have that relieves stress is taking a long hot shower.”

“Oh yeah?” she said with a grin. “Just to get clean, or do you have a detachable showerhead?”

“I, uh, well, I, uh…….” I stammered, feeling my face flush with embarrassment.

I groped for an answer, not wanting to admit that I often orgasmed with my showerhead pulsing against my clit, but somehow sensing that an immediate and total denial would be seen as an admission of my dirty habit.

Everyone knew about showerheads being used for personal sexual pleasure, right? Feigning total ignorance would really be suspicious.

And as these thoughts were racing through my head I made eye contact with her and knew that my hesitation had already answered her question.

My face got even hotter and I felt totally speechless. I blinked rapidly several times, afraid that I might even start crying I felt so ashamed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she said, “it’s alright Sabrina.”

She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it tight.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She continued. “Just about everyone masturbates once in a while.”

“Everyone?” I whispered, my heart pounding.

“Oh hell yes.” She said. “Everyone.”

She squeezed my hand until I looked up and made eye contact.

“Including me.” She whispered.

“You do?” I asked.

Merri was a full-fledged adult in my eyes, and the fact that she would need to relieve lust in that way hadn’t occurred to me. I’d just assumed that most people eventually got a grip on those desires and once they’d had ‘real’ sex they wouldn’t go back to masturbation, even when they weren’t having regular sex.

“Of course.” She said. “Probably more often than you ever do.”

“Really?” I asked, dumbfounded and doubtful.

I wanted to press her for details, to see if maybe she was even a little like me, but I had no idea how to steer the conversation that way.

“Oh yes.” She assured me. “All the time.”

“How……like when…..how much?” I whispered, moving my eyes down to stare at the coffee table.

“Sabrina there’s no limit on how much is normal if that’s what you’re worried about.” She said, squeezing my hand again. “I don’t do it every night, but I do it most nights. Sometimes more than once. It’s been an important part of my life for years.”

I looked up and we made eye contact again.

“It’s something I really enjoy.” She said. “And it’s about the best stress relief there is.”

I couldn’t help but grin, relief mixing in with my embarrassment as I came to terms with this new information. Maybe I wasn’t as weird as I thought I might be.

“Me too.” I confessed. “It’s just about the most relaxing thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s one of the things that has gotten me through the last two years.” She giggled. “Without being able to make myself cum I’d have gone out of my mind.”

“I didn’t……I guess I never thought that…….” I stammered, still trying to process this information.

“I guess most women try it at some point.” She said. “But college is probably where most of us really discover the difference between quick orgasms and the ones with a long, slow build up that really count.”

“That’s how it’s worked for me.” I said.

“Can I ask you a really personal question Sabrina?” she asked.

“Sure.” I said, wondering why I suddenly felt an erotic flush spread through me.

“Is it just a shower thing for you?” she asked. “Or have you discovered some of the even better ways?”

“I’ve done a lot of different ways.” I said. “I first tried the showerhead because I was curious, and then just did that once in a while for a couple months. And then….well something happened that helped.”

“What was it?” she asked softly.

“I found a paperback book. In a pile of donated books in the college library.” I told her. “It was a novel, but it was all about sex. I was reading it in bed, and it was really pretty graphic. Suddenly I realized that I was responding to it.”

“I get that.” She said. “I love to read erotica. The right story can make me so deliciously horny.”

I giggled to hear her use the word ‘horny’.

“That’s what happened to me.” I said. “I tried to keep reading and just ignore it, but I figured out that knowing I was turned on made the story even better, and the story made me even more turned on.”

“I may want to borrow that book.” She teased.

“I got embarrassed after what happened and I threw it away.” I told her.

“After what happened?” she asked. “What happened to embarrass you?”

“While I was reading I put a pillow between my legs to sort of….just to kind of…..” I wasn’t even sure how to explain it.

Fortunately she understood.

“Because when you’re getting turned on it feels good to have something to push against Sabrina.” She whispered. “That’s natural.”

“Well I just kept reading and the pillow was there, and the more I read the more intense everything felt.” I told her. “I turned off the lights and was reading with a flashlight, and suddenly I just lost control, and it was like the showerhead only a thousand times better.”

“And that embarrassed you?” she asked me.

“I thought I was a pervert.” I told her. “So I got rid of the book and vowed to never do it again.”

“How long did you wait?” she asked. “Before you tried it again?”

“About four days.” I said softly.

“That sounds so much like my story.” She said with a smile. “I watched a video in my dorm room that turned me on, and I realized that the showerhead was nothing. Afterwards I was really embarrassed, but before long I was doing it every chance I got.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yes Sabrina.” She said. “There’s not one damn thing wrong with you. In fact you sound pretty normal.”

I can’t emphasize enough how important that conversation with Merri was to me.

I had lived in such fear of someone finding out that I touched myself for pleasure, and here I was telling someone I liked and admired and she was telling me it was normal.

So normal that she’d admitted to doing it too.

Still I’d have died if anyone in my family had found out.

And lurking in the back of my mind was the worry that if Merri knew all the details of my fantasy life she might not consider me normal at all.

Our conversation drifted to other things that night, and eventually I went upstairs to my guest room, and she went to her own bedroom.

However, I lay awake for a long time, wondering how I could have kept the conversation on the topic of masturbation and pleasure, and worrying that the chance would never come up again.

The conversation had aroused me. Not in an erotic way, but maybe my body felt a certain jolt of freedom from her confession, that signaled to my brain that it was alright to be horny.

That night I crossed a line I’d never crossed before.

I fingered myself to orgasm in her guest room.

In all my months of sleeping over at her house I’d never done that before, saving my orgasmic needs to be met in the privacy of my own bed at home. I’d felt like touching myself in her house would somehow make me extra dirty.

But laying there in the dark I let my fingers drift down into my pajama pants, and I found that I was wet with hot desire. I spread my legs and my practiced fingers went on either side of my clit, sliding up and down slowly and pushing in a soft circle over my swollen lips every few moments.

I felt a delicious tension of lustful pressure build in my loins, and I pulled the pillow from under my head and clutched it on my chest, ready to bury my face in it and smother any noises I might make when my orgasm arrived.

In my mind’s eye the pillow became a person in my fantasy.

It became Merri, her head on my chest as I held onto her tight and fingered the needy wetness between my legs.

Thinking about Merri brought my pleasure closer, and I started rolling my hips and squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers moving faster and faster as my belly tightened.

I wondered if Merri masturbated on her back like I did, and I had a sudden lustful picture in my head of her laying in her bed with her legs spread and her fingers busy.

And suddenly I realized something.

She’d said “I don’t do it every night, but I do it most nights. Sometimes more than once. It’s been an important part of my life for years.”

If she did it most nights that meant that on at least one of the nights I’d been up in this guest room, she’d been directly beneath me, making herself have an orgasm. Or two.

That thought pulled me over the edge, and my body hunched up as my pussy clenched and spasmed against my fingers as my orgasm pounded through my body.

It went on longer than I’d thought it would, and when my body relaxed back against the mattress, I took in several deep shuddering breaths.

I lay there feeling my thudding heart slow down, and I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked at the tangy flavor of my own arousal and pleasure. I could smell my lust on my fingertips, and I closed my eyes and savored my post orgasmic feeling of peace.

When I woke up the next morning I smelled my fingers again, feeling a surge of lust twist through me at the memory of the night before. Reluctantly I got out of bed and got cleaned up, denying my desire to stay under the cover and explore my lust.

For the next couple of weeks our routine remained the same. I’d stay at my parent’s house on the weekends, but during the week I’d mostly stay at Merri’s, keeping clothes in the guest room closet, food in her kitchen, and even doing some of my laundry there at her insistence.

We even stopped calling it the ‘guest room’ and it became, at least unofficially, ‘Sabrina’s room’.

Our late-night conversations were still few and far between, and when they did happen they didn’t offer an opportunity for me to conversationally guide them back towards sex.

Ever since our talk about masturbation I felt better about the frequency of my habit, but I still struggled with my interest in perversion. My friends talked about sex often, but their conversations were more aimed at the social and dating aspects. None of them seemed to share my ‘interest level’ in exploring pleasure.

As fall slid into winter, the weather grew colder and the threat of snow became ever present. I made sure I had extra clothes at Merri’s in case I ever got snowed in there, or in case Merri got snowed in at work and I ended up staying with the kids longer than planned.

~~~

One particularly snowy Wednesday afternoon in early December I got to Merri’s house just as the weather service announced a school closure for the next two days. The kids were extra wound up with this news, and I felt pretty good too, since that meant no classes at the college for me either.

Merri left early for work, giving herself extra time on the icy roads, and while the kids played video games (something they rarely were allowed to do on school nights) I cracked open my books and started on my homework, hoping to get it done so I could enjoy the next few days off.

After about three hours I got up from the table and put my books away. I was just starting to set the table so the kids and I could eat when the phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Sabrina! I just thought I’d let you know that the kid’s dad is going to be by in a bit to get them.” Said Merri.

Merri’s ex-husband was a teacher, and he and Merri got along well enough that they didn’t rely on any court decided visitation schedule. They just did what they felt was best for the kids.

“Okay.” I said. “Do I need to get anything ready for them?”

“Just make sure they each take enough clothes for a few extra days, and their winter stuff.” Merri said. “And one more favor?”

“Anything.” I said.

“In the top drawer of my dresser I have a flashlight.” She said. “Could you get it and leave it on the kitchen counter for me? If the storm kills the power I could at least find a light as soon as I stumble in from the garage.”

“Sure thing.” I told her.

“Thank you.” She said. “Once the kids are gone feel free to take off for the weekend if you like. No sense sitting in the empty house until I get home.”

“Sounds good.” I replied. “Have a good weekend.”

I hung up the phone and got the kids headed upstairs to pack. They were used to going to their dad’s, so I offered only an occasional suggestion or reminder about what to put into their bags, and then they were ready.

Before long their dad arrived, and with a lot of noise and happy energy the three of them loaded up their stuff and they were on their way.

As I watched them back out of the driveway I realized that this was the first time I’d ever been alone in the house.

I went down the half flight of stairs into the family room and walked into Merri’s bedroom. I had only been in here once when she’d first set it up, and I felt suddenly strange, like I was snooping where I didn’t belong.

I went to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer, and suddenly froze in embarrassed shock.

There was a flashlight in there all right, along with three glass candles, and a box of wooden matches.

But lying next to all that was a white plastic vibrator. I stared at it for a long moment. My instinct was to grab the flashlight and slam the drawer closed and pretend I hadn’t seen it.

But the curious lust in my stomach so badly wanted to touch it.

Truth be told I wanted to do more than touch it.

I wanted to smell it.

I wanted to taste it.

I wanted to twist the bottom of it and discover what the vibrations would feel like against my hand. Against my thigh. Against my pussy lips. Inside my hole.

I reached a finger out towards it, but hesitated. Merri wasn’t merely an object of an orgasmic fantasy. She was my friend, and this would feel like a betrayal.

She probably hadn’t meant for me to see this.

I stared longingly for another few moments, and then took out the flashlight and slid the drawer closed and returned to the kitchen.

I had some clothes in her dryer and I went to the laundry room to retrieve them, planning to take most of my clothes back to my parents for the long weekend.

But when I got to the laundry room my heart began to thud again. On top of the dirty clothes basket were the clothes Merri had been wearing before she changed and left for work.

And on top of the dirty clothes, were a pair of lacy purple panties.

Without realizing what I was doing I suddenly realized I had picked them up.

As I stood there holding her panties, I had an almost irresistible urge to sniff them. I often sniffed my own panties, especially if I’d been aroused or worn them to masturbate in, and I wondered if her scent would be anything like my own.

But somehow that would also feel like a violation to me, like I was invading her personal space.

On the other hand, these weren’t in her room. They were right here in the laundry room where she obviously didn’t care if I saw them.

And I was already holding them.

I brought them to my nose and closed my eyes, breathing in her smell. Even though I had never smelled Merri in this sort of way before, I was certain that I would have known that this was her scent even if I didn’t know they were her panties.

I felt a primal pull towards her, and realized that my nipples were hard, my hands were sweating, I was breathing hard, and my own pussy was drenched with desire.

I dropped her panties back on the laundry pile and gathered up my own laundry and carried it to my room. Alone in my room I had a fantasy of retrieving her panties from the laundry basket and masturbating while inhaling her scent.

But my fear of somehow being caught, even though I was alone in the house, far outweighed my desire for an immediate orgasm. I could make myself wait until I got back to my own house.

I went back into the kitchen, with a sense of guilt. I decided to give the house a quick cleaning, as a way of bringing some peace to the shame I felt for having seen her sex toy and then sniffing the crotch of her panties.

I washed the bowls and cups from the kids after school snack, and then got out the vacuum and ran it in the upstairs hallway, all three bedrooms up there, the living room and finally down in the family room. I was about to put it away when I decided to run it in her bedroom as well.

I usually didn’t run it in any of the bedrooms, just sticking to the common areas of the house and the upstairs hallway. However, I was now using one of the bedrooms, and I’d been in the kids’ rooms helping them pack, so it didn’t feel like I was intruding to vacuum in them.

She always left her bedroom door open, so I’d seen into her room almost every time I was in the family room. And it wasn’t like I’d be violating her personal space too much since she’d already sent me in there to get the flashlight.

I pushed the vacuum into her room, and soon had her carpet finished. As I was winding up the cord, I looked around the room, and again felt that odd feeling of being alone in the house.

Not just alone in the house, but alone in Merri’s bedroom.

Alone in the room where she masturbated.

Alone in the room where she pushed the vibrator up into herself.

I took the vacuum back to the hall closet, wondering what was happening to me.

I’d never been romantically attracted to women. My whole life males had been the object of my romantic fantasies, crushes, and as I grew older my sexual attention.

But females sometimes factored into my sexual fantasies. Not so much as the objects of my desire, but certainly as supporting parts of my lust. Although I would often awaken in the middle of the night and realize that I’d been having intense sex with another woman in one of my dreams.

I had no real sexual feelings for Merri, except for the closeness I felt for her as a friend, and the small part of me that knew something intimate about her, and that she knew something intimate about me.

Standing alone in her kitchen, I thought about how she’d not only given me a job but had made me feel welcome and loved. She’d even let me into a private part of her life and had been kind and gentle with something that I was deeply ashamed of.

I realized that I was feeling an affection for her that I hadn’t ever experienced before.

Not a romantic crush, but almost like that.

Not lust, but almost like that too.

Definitely not a family sort of affection.

I stood still pondering it for a moment and decided that just like so many other parts of my private life it was just something I couldn’t really define.

Suddenly I felt a cold draft across my neck and turned around with a start to see Merri coming in from the garage.

“Why are you home so early?” I asked her.

“They’re closing everything down out there.” She told me. “So they sent me home in case they need me later in the weekend.”

“Well I’ll be out of your hair soon.” I told her. “I just stuck around long enough to run the vacuum and finish the dishes.”

“You do too much around here.” She said. “But you’re a lifesaver.”

She went through the kitchen and put her bag on the living room couch.

“The roads are a total nightmare.” She said. “It’ll take you a month to get home.”

“It’s a good thing then that I’ve got nowhere to be for the next few days.” I said.

“I’m going to change clothes,” she said, “and then make some hot chocolate and relax. You’re welcome to stick around if you want to.”

She headed for her room, and I started some water heating. By the time it was ready she was back.

“Thanks for vacuuming.” She said. “It’s great coming home to a clean house. I can’t remember how we got along without you.”

“My pleasure.” I said. “I live here part time. The least I can do is clean here part time.”

“Stick around for a cup of cocoa?” she asked.

“Sure.” I grinned.

“Grab that flashlight in case the power goes out and take it down to the family room.” She said. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

I picked up the flashlight and carried it down to the family room, and in a few moments she joined me, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate.

I settled in on the sofa, and she turned off all the lights except a tiny one on top of her tv. Listening to the wind howl outside made the dark room seem cozy and peaceful.

She handed me a mug and then sat down on the other end of the sofa, stretching her legs out so that her feet were almost touching me.

“Is this okay?” she asked. “I don’t want to crowd you.”

“It’s fine.” I said. “I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“Me too.” She said. “It’s always a joy to talk to you about life. Between the kids and work I don’t get a lot of interesting adult conversation.”

“I feel the same way.” I said quietly. “In fact the conversation we had a few weeks ago really made me feel a lot better about some stuff I was worried about.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “Which conversation was that?”

“When we were talking about stress.” I said softly. “And stress relief.”

“Oh.” She said with a kind smile. “You mean when we talked about masturbation.”

“Yeah.” I smiled as well.

“What exactly were you worried about Sabrina?” she asked.

“Just that……well……uh…..that I was…..well…..” I took a deep breath before continuing. “I was worried that I was doing it too much.”

“Too much?” she asked.

I nodded in the dark room.

“I don’t think there’s really any way to measure how much is too much.” She said. “Do you ever do it more than once a day?”

I nodded in the dark, deeply embarrassed.

“Do you ever have days where you don’t do it?” she asked.

I nodded again.

“So what would seem to be ‘too much’ on a day where you don’t do it, might seem like ‘not enough’ on a day where you do a couple of times.” She said, putting verbal quotation marks around some of her words. “Does that make sense?”

“Sure.” I said, and it really did.

“I never even tried it until I went to college.” She said. “I lived in an apartment with two friends. We each had our own room, and one night I woke up from a really sexy dream, and without really knowing what I was doing I touched myself until I came.”

She paused and took a drink of her cocoa.

“It was the first orgasm I ever had, and I was instantly addicted.” She continued. “I had my fingers in myself first thing every morning when I woke up and again every night before I went to sleep. I even used to do it in the middle of the afternoon if I was there alone and didn’t have classes.”

“Wow.” I said.

“I got my first toy on a Saturday morning when I had the apartment to myself for the weekend.” she giggled. “On Monday I woke up so sore I could hardly walk. It wasn’t until Thursday that I felt normal down there.”

“Toy?” I asked, curious lust about her white vibrator tight in my belly.

“My first vibrator.” She said. “Do you have one?”

I shook my head ‘no’, positive that my hairbrush didn’t count.

“Can I ask you another question?” she said. “About what you were worried about?”

“You can ask me anything Merri.” I said in the quiet room.

“Do you ever do it instead of doing something you’re supposed to be doing? Like work or going to class?” she asked.

“Oh no!” I said. “Nothing like that.”

“Do you ever do it while you’re doing something important?” she asked “Like driving, or studying?”

“Nope.” I said. “Well maybe on a study break.”

“That’s what study breaks are for.” She giggled. “I never would have made it through any of my finals in college without those kinds of breaks.”

I laughed with her, remembering how a few nights earlier I’d been sitting in my room studying and realized I had my pen in my mouth. And that had made me think about oral sex and within a few minutes I was under the covers in my bed pushing the handle of my hairbrush into my wet pussy.

“Can I ask you a really personal question Sabrina?” she asked.

“Definitely.” I replied.

“You don’t have to answer of course.” She said. “But since you’re worried about it I’m curious where you do it?”

“Where?” I repeated.

“Like I said you don’t have to answer.” She said. “I just thought maybe you were worried about where you were doing it.”

“Well maybe a little.” I confessed. “Mostly I do it at home in my own bed, or at least in my own room. Sometimes in my shower at home.”

“That’s not unusual.” She said. “What are you worried about?”

“Well sometimes I do it in the woods.” I told her. “When I’m out there hiking.”

“A nature lover huh?” she said, with a friendly grin.

“I guess so.” I said, hoping she couldn’t tell I was blushing in the dark room. “I just like feeling the sun and the breeze, when it’s nice outside.”

“Do you do it where people could see you?” she asked.

“Oh no. I’m always really careful about that.” I said.

“So home and in the woods.” She said. “Anywhere else? Do you do it here?”

“No.” I said softly. “Except for just one time. I feel like doing it here would be like irresponsible or something.”

“Well I do want you to feel at home here.” She said. “Was it irresponsible the time you did it here?”

“No.” I said, staring at the coffee table. “It was late at night. After we talked about it that time. I didn’t plan it. After I went to bed I just sort of realized…..it just sort of happened.”

“Oh Sabrina,” she said, “that’s not weird at all. I did it that night too. The conversation was sort of hot.”

“I felt like maybe I’d crossed a line.” I said, not sure why I was telling her this. “By letting something we talked about get to me like that.”

“We can’t always control what turns us on.” She told me. “Sometimes our bodies just have erotic reactions to things we see or hear or think about.”

She got up and took my mug from me and headed towards the kitchen.

I got up and followed her, unwilling to let the conversation drift away.

She turned the heat on under the water kettle again, and spooned more chocolate into our mugs.

She turned and rested her hips against the counter, and I did the same against the sink.

“Sabrina,” she said, “if you’re not masturbating instead of doing the things you’re supposed to do, and if you’re not masturbating in situations that could be dangerous or unhealthy, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Well that was part of what I was worried about.” I said softly, unable to make eye contact, but determined to find her opinion on my fascination with kink.

“Were you worried about doing it here?” she asked, moving closer to me, and taking my hand. “Because as long as you do it behind closed doors, I don’t think that is wrong at all.”

As embarrassed as I was, in that moment I felt like a complete and total adult. Like she was seeing me as an equal. I wasn’t a college girl in her eyes. I was an adult woman.

“It wasn’t that.” I said. “But that does make me feel better. Thank you.”

She leaned in and hugged me, and I put my arms around her and squeezed. We stood like that for a moment, before the kettle started to whistle, and she kissed my forehead and then turned back to the stove.

I had enjoyed the hug more than I thought I would and couldn’t really understand why. My palms were sweaty, and my heartrate was definitely elevated.

Maybe the combination of closeness and the conversation?

She poured the water into the mugs and gave each of them a few quick stirs. She handed mine to me and then nodded her head and I followed her back down to the shadowy family room.

“So what was your worry Sabrina?” she asked me, settling in on her end of the couch with her knees pulled up in front of her watching me.

“It was…….I was……I….uh…..” I was stammering again, torn between confiding in her and being ashamed.

“Honey, it’s okay.” She whispered. “You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to. But whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone, and I promise not to make fun of you.”

I looked up and caught her eyes and knew that this was it. The single best time I was probably ever going to have to talk about this stuff.

“What you said earlier.” I said softly. “About not being able to control what turns us on? That we sometimes just have reactions to things?”

“Yes?” she said.

“Sometimes the things I think about. The sexual things I think about, especially when I’m, you know, touching myself?” I said. “Sometimes I worry that they’re not really normal.”

“What kind of things are they?” she asked. “Are they dangerous things?”

“I don’t think so.” I said. “Although I’m always afraid what would happen if someone found out.”

“Are they illegal things?” she asked carefully.

“Oh no!” I said, louder than I’d intended. “They’re all legal. I’ve looked them up on the internet, and they’re safe enough, I guess. I just worry that it’s not normal to like them so much. Or to like so many of them. Or to think about them so often.”

“What sort of things are they Sabrina?” she asked.

“I think about oral sex.” I said. “A lot.”

“Oral sex?” she asked softly.

“That’s one of the things, yes.” I answered. “I wonder what it feels like to have it happen. I wonder what it feels like to do it to a guy.”

“Those are normal things to wonder about.” She said. “You shouldn’t feel badly for being curious.”

“It’s not just curious.” I told her. “It’s way beyond just being curious. And it’s not just oral sex either.”

“So tell me Sabrina.” She said. “You can trust me.”

I took a deep breath, and then plunged in.

“It’s a lot of stuff. Watching people have sex or masturbate, letting them watch me, seeing how long I can feel pleasure without having an orgasm, and seeing how I could make someone else last like that.” I said it all in a rush, stopping to look up at her.

She smiled warmly at me, no judgement or disgust apparent on her face.

“I also think about being tied up or tying someone else up.” I went on. “I think about touching a guy while he’s hard, not just a little either, but stroking him for a real long time and making him beg for more.”

“Honey I don’t think there’s anything wrong with any of that.” She whispered. “I’ve tried all those things.”

“You have?” I blurted out.

I was shocked that things I’d considered to be activities that only complete perverts would engage in were things that Merri had done.

“Oh my yes Sabrina.” She said. “All of them and even more.”

“You don’t think I’m weird?” I asked, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking.

She suddenly leaned over and put her mug on the coffee table, before sliding next to me and putting her arm around me.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world I put my head down on her shoulder.

“Sabrina, I think you’re absolutely normal.” She whispered. “Maybe even better than normal because you’re so young but you’ve already developed a list of things that arouse you to think about.”

“I think about them all the time.” I said.

She squeezed me with her arm.

“That’s okay.” She said. “Trust me, it’s absolutely normal and healthy to think about sex and the different ways to enjoy it.”

“I even think about them when I…..uh…..while I do it to myself.” I whispered.

“That’s one of the best times to think about that stuff.” She said quietly. “And do you want to know a secret?”

“Sure.” I said.

“I think about some of those things while I do it too.” She whispered back.

“But every time?” I asked, afraid I was going one question too far.

She giggled again.

“Yes Sabrina.” She said. “I think about kinky and weird things just about every time.”

I closed my eyes, sitting there in the dark with the wind howling outside, feeling her next to me. I had never felt this close to anyone before, and I didn’t want this connection to end.

“Did you tell your parents that you’d be home early?” she asked. “Are they worried about you?”

“No I didn’t tell them.” I said. “I wasn’t going to let them know until I was leaving here. I wanted to finish the laundry and dishes. They’re not expecting me until Saturday or Sunday.”

“Well you can leave if you want to.” She told me. “But the roads were absolutely awful. And they’re probably getting worse.”

She put her hand on my thigh and gave it a sisterly squeeze.

“I think a soak in the hot tub would be just the thing to enjoy during a blizzard.” She said. “Want to join me?”

I was startled by the offer. I swam in our pool at home all summer, but I’d never been in a hot tub before. And with just the two of us here it felt like it would be intimately awkward.

“Are you sure it would be okay?” I asked her.

“Of course.” She said with a grin. “My house so it’s my rules, and I say it’s absolutely okay.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit here.” I said.

“Don’t worry about that.” She said.

She stood and went into her bedroom, and in a moment, I heard the giant tub start to fill with water.

She returned and gathered up the mugs and headed to the kitchen. In a moment she was back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She started for her bedroom.

“Come on.” Merri said.

I followed her into her bedroom, and then through to her bathroom, where she put the two glasses and the wine on the ledge of the hot tub, turned the water off, and dipped her arm in.

“Perfect.” She said. “Let’s get in and relax.”

She went to the doorway and turned off the overhead light and used a dimmer switch to cause a soft glow to shine from three wall mounted lights.

“Do you have an extra bathing suit I could borrow?” I asked.

It was a silly question. Although we were close to the same height, she had much bigger breasts than I did, and while she was fit, I was downright skinny. Nothing that fit her would be likely to fit me.

“I can loan you one if you’d be more comfortable, or you can get in with your bra and underwear on, or just naked.” She said.

She undid the drawstring on her sweatpants, and pulled them down over her hips, and pulled each sock off as she pulled the pants over her feet.

She stood up and I found myself staring uncontrollably. She hadn’t been wearing any panties, and her pussy was completely bare. It didn’t look shaved, it just looked soft and hairless.

She saw me staring and grinned.

“I had it waxed.” She said. “It feels so much more sensitive when I wear something soft and silky. And the hot water feels absolutely lovely without any hair in the way.”

“Did it hurt?” I asked.

“It stings, but the results are worth it.” She said.

“I’m sorry.” I said. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“That’s quite alright.” She said. “If I didn’t want people looking at it, I wouldn’t make it pretty to look at.”

I grinned back at her, feeling a flush of pride wash over me.

‘She wanted me to look!’ I thought.

She pulled her hoodie off over her head, and I turned away, knowing my eyes would betray my interest in her body if she saw my face.

I undid my pants as well and bent down to pull my shoes and socks off. When I stood up I heard her foot splash into the water and I turned towards the tub as I started to push my pants over my hips.

And I froze for the second time, caught by the sight of Merri standing in the hot tub, just a few feet from me, totally naked. My eyes were drawn to her breasts, and her areola’s looked dark brown and the size of silver dollars.

“Sorry.” I mumbled again. “You’re beautiful but I shouldn’t keep staring.”

“Sabrina you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” She said softly. “So hurry up and get undressed so I can stare too.”

I stepped out of my pants and pulled my shirt off. I gathered my clothes up and looked for a place to put them, intending to get into the tub wearing my panties and bra.

“Just put them on the floor.” She said. “We’ll put them through the wash tomorrow.”

I dropped them on my shoes and turned to the tub and saw that she hadn’t been kidding.

She was staring at my almost naked body.

“You can take those off too.” She said. “It’s just us here and I certainly don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Of course.” She said. “I think you have a nice body. I certainly don’t mind seeing it.”

I blushed again and hoped that in the dimly lit room she wouldn’t be able to tell.

I reached behind myself and unhooked my bra and hesitated just a moment before taking it off and stepping out of my panties.

I had been naked in front of others in locker rooms several times in my life, and of course at doctor’s appointments. But never in my life had I been undressed in a room where the other person was naked, and it was just the two of us.

It felt erotic, even if it hadn’t been intended that way by her.

I stepped into the hot water and forgot about Merri for a moment as I sank down into the relaxing heat.

“Oh wow.” I whispered, with my eyes closed.

“It’s usually the second-best part of my day when I finally get into the tub.” She said.

“What’s the best part?” I asked softly.

“Having an orgasm. Or two. Or five.” She sighed.

My eyes opened and we made eye contact.

“Five?” I whispered.

“Sure.” She said. “Sometimes. Don’t you ever cum more than once?”

“I do sometimes.” I admitted. “But usually after a break. And then just maybe two times.”

“The next time you get really horny, and you have a while to play,” she said, “tease yourself and make yourself wait a bit for your orgasm.”

“Okay.” I said.

“And when you finally do make yourself cum, just as soon as your orgasm is over wait about thirty seconds and then stimulate yourself again as intensely as you can.”

“I will definitely try that.” I said. “It sounds amazing.”

“Oh it is.” She grinned.

“I might even try it tonight.” I said. “If I don’t fall asleep in here and drown or die of frostbite on the way home.”

“I won’t let you drown.” She assured me. “If you look sleepy, I’ll slide over there and pinch you to keep you awake.”

At that moment the lights flickered.

“And I don’t think you should even try to go home tonight unless you have to.” She said. “That way you can definitely try it tonight. And you can absolutely have some mind-blowing orgasms in that room up there. I know I sure have!”

“Then I am definitely going to try it tonight.” I said, feeling my belly tighten in anticipation.

“I’m really enjoying this conversation, Sabrina.” She told me. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a friend to talk dirty with.”

“I think this is good for me too.” I replied. “I haven’t had anyone to ever talk to about this stuff. I mean I could ask my mom if I really had to, but not someone who really gets what I’m feeling.”

“That makes sense.” She said. “I had a friend I learned lots from too. My parents are pretty straight. They’d die if they knew all the different things I’ve done to have orgasms.”

I giggled again, suddenly feeling brave and horny in the hot water.

“I think most people would die if they knew some of the things I’ve done just to have an orgasm alone.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, stretching out her foot and touching mine. “Tell me one of them. See if I live through it.”

“Okay.” I said. “But this is a bit strange, I think. I thought of it earlier when you mentioned a sex toy.”

“Oh yeah?” she grinned, her foot giving mine a rub before retreating to her side of the tub.

“I don’t have any vibrators or anything.” I said. “But I have these two hairbrushes, with plastic handles. I sometimes push one inside of me and suck on the other one.”

A silence hung in the room, and nothing was moving except for the faint movement of the water. She was so still for so many minutes that I wondered if I had said something wrong.

“Judas fuck.” She whispered.

I just looked at her, afraid to say anything, but unable to look away.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Merri whispered. “Do you have any idea how fucking erotic that sounds Sabrina?”

“I’m not sure.” I said. “It’s just something I really wanted to try one night after thinking about….well after thinking about tasting a cock.”

“You’ve never had a real cock have you?” she asked softly.

“No I haven’t.” I said.

“Have you ever seen one?” she asked.

“I walked in on a guy changing once at the college. Backstage during a play rehearsal.” I said. “But it wasn’t planned or anything, and he wasn’t hard.”

“That’s too bad.” She giggled.

“I know.” I agreed. “I dreamt about it for weeks. I kept waking up sweaty and horny.”

“Have you ever done anything sexual with another person?” she asked.

“Last Christmas Eve I had a date who played with my breasts.” I told her. “Except once he got his fingers on my nipple he just kept squeezing and twisting it.”

“College guys have no idea how to handle breasts.” She said. “They think if they do the same thing over and over it will eventually make us spread our legs.”

“After about ten minutes he wanted a handjob.” I laughed. “And as much as I wanted to try it, I knew he’d tell everyone. And after the way he touched me, I knew it wouldn’t be very fun with him.”

“Once guys get a little older most of them figure out that each woman is different.” She said. “They figure out that part of the fun of new partners is learning what those special triggers are.”

“Special triggers?” I asked. “Like individual kinks or needs?”

“Exactly.” She said. “For instance, I’d guess with you, that sexual conversation like we’ve been having tonight would turn you on far more than just grabbing at your tits.”

“I think you’re right.” I agreed.

“For me, it’s kissing.” She said. “If someone holds me and we kiss for a long time, it builds up so much need in my body that I can cum from almost any sort of touch at all.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“Yes.” She said. “Although I don’t really know why. Except I once had someone kiss me and hold me while I fingered myself. I came so hard with her that I almost passed out.”

“Her?” I whispered, almost to myself.

“Yes.” She answered. “I’m mostly straight Sabrina. But I’ve played with a few women. Nothing really romantic, just sharing pleasure.”

“That makes sense.” I said, feeling my pussy throb in the hot water. I wondered where exactly the line between romantic feelings and sexual feelings was.

“She was the first woman who ever made me totally wet just by playing with my breasts.” She said. “Before that I’d just been with guys who did what that guy did to you.”

“Mine get really sensitive when I play by myself.” I said. “Sometimes I can rub them both at the same time and get really close to an orgasm.”

“That’s because they’re so perfectly petite.” She said.

“You mean small.” I giggled.

“I think they’re perfect.” She said. “For your size and shape they look so incredibly erotic.”

I felt a flush of pride run through me. All compliments are nice, but when they’re spoken by someone you value as much as I valued Merri, they take on a different velocity as they hit you.

“All women have the same number of nerve endings in their breasts.” She continued. “But when your breasts aren’t so huge, they’re all concentrated together.”

“I never really thought of that.” I said. “But it makes sense.”

“Anyway,” she said, “she sort of ‘woke my nipples up’, and they’ve been really sensitive ever since. Or at least she made me aware of how sensitive they get anytime I’m even a little horny”

“That sounds so hot.” I said.

“Want to see?” she asked.

Without waiting for an answer she sat up, her chest coming up out of the water. I could see that her nipples were stiff, with water dripping off of them. I almost moaned just from seeing them.

She sat back down and smiled.

“Our conversation has got me sort of worked up.” She said.

“It’s pretty dark in here.” I said. “But I could almost see.”

“Well then here.” She said.

Before I had time to react, she slid across the tub and was sitting next to me, our shoulders touching. She reached for my fingers, and I let her pull them to her breast. I pressed my palm flat against her flesh, feeling her stiff nipple against my hand.

“If you can’t see, you can feel.” She whispered, and I felt her body quiver.

This time I did moan, my emotions and thoughts swirling through me, but none of them able to compete with the sheer lust that I was feeling.

Between my thoughts, emotions and lust though, it was my lust that was in control, and without thought or plan I slid my hand down a bit, and my fingers took her nipple and pulled softly.

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Merri moaned.

She closed her eyes and shuddered. Her hand was suddenly on my knee, and she moved it softly a few inches up onto my thigh, and even under the hot water the skin-on-skin contact made my clitoris throb.

“So,” she said, her voice thick with lust, “just the guy on Christmas Eve? No other sexual partners?”

Her hand stayed where it was, but her fingers were flexing on my thigh, and despite the heat of the tub and warmth of the room I shivered.

“Not really.” I panted.

“Not really?” she asked, looking me in the eye from six inches away.

I cupped her breast, feeling the weight of her in my hand.

“I called someone from a chat room.” I said. “For phone sex.”

“Did you cum with him?” she asked me, her fingers moving a millimeter closer to my cunt. I could feel the tickle as her fingertip made contact with my bush.

“I called two people.” I said, my voice shaking. “Two different people, two different times I mean.”

“Did you masturbate with them both?” she asked me.

“The first one we just talked, and he was touching himself. I didn’t want to cum when he did,” I said, “I wanted to take turns so I could listen to him without being distracted.”

“That’s sounds very erotic.” She said. “It’s always nice to be able to focus on your partners pleasure.”

“Except after he came he hung up.” I whispered. “And I didn’t get to. At least not with him. I did by myself afterwards.”

“That’s too bad.” She said. “What about the other call?”

I almost asked her to promise not to think I was weird, but I realized that with her fingers close to my most sensitive spot we were way past judging each other.

“It was with another girl.” I said, admitting something to myself as I said the words out loud.

Her fingers left my thigh and touched my belly. I took in a deep breath and felt her fingers tickle their way up my skin, towards my chest.

“Did you hear her cum?” Merri whispered into my ear.

“Yes.” I groaned. “She let me hear her cum.”

“And did she get to hear you?” she asked, her breath hot against my ear, and her fingers like electricity on the skin under my breast.

My belly clenched.

I’d never known the underside of my breast was so goddamn sensitive before.

“She almost did.” I said. “I described what I was doing to myself and I got so close, but my parents got home and we had to stop.”

“You never tried to call her back?” she asked.

I gasped again, feeling her other hand on my other breast.

“Oh god I did, I tried to.” I told her. “But one of us was always busy when the other one was free.”

“Do you still think about her when you touch yourself?” she asked me.

Her index finger was circling my areola, and I squirmed in the hot water, feeling pleasure roll through my body.

“I do.” I said. “Some nights all I want is for someone to listen to me or watch me.”

“You want to share your pleasure with someone don’t you Sabrina?” she asked, her voice thick and soft in my ear.

“I do.” I said through gritted teeth. “I want that so fucking bad.”

“I think you’re like me.” She whispered. “That’s what I crave even more than mere orgasms. I want my partner to want my orgasms as bad as their own, because I want all of theirs in addition to mine.”

“I never thought how to explain it.” I said, my voice trembling. “But that’s the way I feel. Exactly.”

“What you want isn’t always normal.” She said. “Too many people just want to cum. What you’re after though is much more powerful than just an orgasm. It’s a connected pleasure.”

She flicked her fingernail across my nipple, and my whole body tensed as a shockwave of need grasped me.

“Orgasms are fun. They’re relaxing, invigorating, and they can remind us of all the best parts of what we can experience physically.” She said. “But sharing someone else’s orgasm, one you can taste and hear and feel and see, that’s a powerful level of intimacy.”

“That’s what I want.” I moaned. “It’s what I need. Someone who feels exactly like that.”

She moved her finger away from my breast and put both of her arms around me and pulled me close. I melted against her and wrapped my arms around her, wanting to feel every inch of my body against hers.

I felt both completely in control of what I was doing, and at the same time completely detached, as if I was dreaming.

“You do know someone exactly like that.” Merri whispered.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips against my own.

“And she’s needed to find someone who feels this way for a long time.” She said, leaning over and licking my earlobe.

I jumped in her arms. My entire body felt like it was on fire and I was trying to press it as hard against her as I could.

“Fuuuuuck.” I groaned.

“More than even being fucked or licked or having a cock to suck, you want to cum and have someone else there with you while you do, don’t you?” she asked me again.

“Oh fuck yes!” I groaned.

I was shaking.

I was shaking with lust, and fear, and nervousness, and desire, and need and with the newness of this experience and with my feelings for Merri and with the awakening of feelings that I didn’t even know I had.

“I want that so fucking much.” I said, fighting back tears.

“Shhhhh.” She said, stroking my hair. “It’s okay honey. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry Merri.” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t know what I’m even feeling, except I love it and I don’t ever fucking want it to go away.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to go away.” She said softly. “But maybe we can add to it.”

She pressed her lips to mine, and I pulled her body close, pressing myself against her as hard as I could.

Her tongue touched mine and I moaned into her mouth, stretching my legs out and trying to pull her down on top of me.

I’d wanted to wrap my legs around her, to feel our bodies rub against each other, but suddenly I was under the water, and I came bounding up, snorting and coughing into the air and splashing water all over the room.

I felt embarrassed and stupid for having ruined the kiss, tried to catch my breath.

“Jesus I’m sorry.” I gasped “I didn’t mean to…”

Her lips were on mine again, and she pulled me to her, so I was on her lap. I felt my pussy press against her belly, and her fingers suddenly pinched one of my nipples as her mouth licked tenderly at the other one.

My cunt twisted with a pulse of pleasure, that traveled up into my stomach and through my whole body, causing my nipples and clit to feel like they were vibrating.

“Oh gaaaaawwwwwwwwwd.” I groaned out loud in the quiet room, feeling tears fill my eyes again.

Her lips pulled my nipple, and I wrapped my arms around her head and rolled my hips against her.

She gently pushed me off her and stood up, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. She stepped out onto a fuzzy bathmat, and I followed her, my legs shaking.

She reached into the tub and pulled the handle, and it started to drain. Still holding my hand, she turned and guided me over to a towel rack, where she pulled down a big yellow towel and started drying me.

When I was mostly dry, she ran the towel around her own body, before dropping it on the floor. She took me by the hand again, and I followed easier now that my legs had stopped shaking.

We went into her bedroom, and she pulled me onto her giant bed, positioning me in the middle and laying next to me, both of us on our back and our shoulders, hips, and thighs touching. The only light in the room came through the open door from her bathroom.

We were still holding hands.

“If you want your first orgasm with someone to happen tonight Sabrina, I can help you.” She said.

I swallowed and took a deep breath.

I definitely wanted to cum.

More than wanted, I desperately needed to cum. Even laying still I could feel my clit throb and my nipples were so stiff they were almost painful.

But I didn’t want to change anything between Merri and myself. We had such a good relationship, almost like sisters. It was one thing to talk about orgasms and sex together. But if we did those things, what would happen to our relationship?

“This doesn’t have to change things between us.” She said softly, as if she were reading my mind. “I love our conversations, and our connection.”

“Me too.” I whispered. “I don’t want to screw that up. I don’t want to ruin this.”

I paused, trying to choose my words carefully.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” I said, speaking out into the dark room.

I felt her roll up onto her side, and she let go of my hand, and let her other hand rest lightly on my belly.

I shivered, realizing that for the first time in my life I was in bed with someone naked, and their fingers were only inches from my swollen pussy lips.

“Tonight doesn’t have to make things worse.” She said. “Maybe now that we know that we’re so much alike we can be there for each other. Maybe that will make things better.”

“I want that.” I said, fighting to keep my voice from shaking.

“Sure.” She said softly. “Not just for sex. For sharing closeness.”

Her fingers began to move on my belly, just an inch at a time, and I shivered again, feeling a physical need push against me, in a way that I had never before experienced.

“Merri?” I groaned.

“Yes honey?” she replied, her lips touching my ear.

“Can……can we?” I stuttered.

“Can we what Sabrina?” she asked.

“C-can we…..I…uh…..I n-need……to…..need to…..I w-want…..” I struggled to speak instead of just moaning.

“Do you want to cum Sabrina?” she whispered.

She put her lips against mine, and I spread my legs and reached for her body.

“Oh f-f-f-fuck yes.” I said, my lips touching hers.

I felt her tongue lick along my upper lip, and then push into my mouth, and I grabbed her hip and pulled her against me.

We kissed like that, our hips rolling gently as we moaned and clutched at each other, her grinding against the bed and me humping at the air, my body begging for contact.

The waterbed absorbed our motion, rolling us up and down with each other’s rhythm in gentle waves.

Her fingers touched my breast again, and I grunted with need and lifted my ass off of the bed.

She slid down, and I felt her thighs on either side of my leg. I felt her wet tongue lick my nipple at the same moment her hairless cunt touched my knee.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” I yelled.

She sucked at my nipple, and I twisted my hands in her hair and thumped my ass up and down on the bed, both of us riding the waves I caused.

“Sabrina?” she whispered.

“Yes?” I croaked.

“Close your eyes honey.” She said.

I did and felt her fingers on my inner thigh.

I whimpered with need.

“Just concentrate on what it feels like.” She said. “Don’t try to make yourself cum. Don’t try to hold it back. Just let the pleasure do whatever it needs to.”

Her fingers pushed up along my cunt lips and I let out a long loud moan, feeling myself clench and flutter in delight.

She drug her fingers up and down along my lips, and I felt how wet and swollen they were as her fingers caused the slippery lips to part with need.

She kissed my breast gently and I twisted my fingers even tighter in her hair.

“You don’t have to answer.” She whispered. “But when I ask you a question, I want you to think about what I’m asking.”

“Uh-huh.” I groaned, closing my eyes as another pulse of pleasure gripped me.

“Does that feel good?” she asked. “My fingers on your lips?”

She pushed a finger to the very edge of my opening and swirled it around.

“Teasing your sensitive opening…..do you feel all those nerve endings?” she whispered.

I rolled my hips again, no longer in control of my body.

She nudged a second finger inside of my opening, and I felt a tightness in my belly that I knew was the start of an orgasm.

“Does your hole feel good Sabrina?” she hissed.

And then her fingers touched my clit, and the pleasure caused by her touch was almost painful it was so intense.

“UGFFFF…..UGFFF…..DO……IT……FUG…IS…FEEL…..FUUUUUUUUUUCK.” the words humped out of my mouth uncontrollably.

“Does that feel good?” she asked softly. “Does your clit like being rubbed?”

I opened my eyes wide in the dark room, staring up at the ceiling as my body burned with a sexual tension that it had never felt before.

“Merri.” I begged her. “Oh Merri.”

“What does it feel like?” she whispered.

“It’s so soft.” I panted. “It’s pulling me…..just pulling me….more and more….”

She put one finger on each side of my clit and trapped my clit between them. Before I could process the sharp pleasure that caused her hot and wet tongue covered my nipple again, slowly licking it like an ice cream cone.

“Oh god.” I moaned, feeling my orgasm get closer.

“Is it still pulling?” She asked.

“Oh fuck yes fuck yes oh fuck!” I gasped.

“Do you need to cum?” she asked. “Not just want, but do you fucking need to?”

“Oh my cum,” I whispered, “I need it so bad. It’s never been like this.”

She put her fingers on my clit again and started to slide them back and forth.

“How’s that feel baby?” she asked softly.

“Oh Merri so so so fuck oh god fuck oh god.” I howled into the darkness.

My voice pitched higher and higher, and I pushed my head back against the pillow and shut my eyes tight.

My orgasm had arrived.

It just hadn’t started yet.

“Love this moment, Sabrina.” She whispered. “The moment between pleasure and release.”

She was working her fingers in a slippery circle, and started going even faster as I trembled against her.

She pressed her body down on mine, and I pushed up against her, rocking with feelings I couldn’t describe or believe.

“Ride it!” she whispered.

Her fingers went even faster.

I opened my mouth wide and shrieked into the empty house, my pleasure screaming in my own ears as I felt the pressure in my cunt begin to burst.

The lustful agony burned within me as my orgasm built.

And built.

And built.

And built.

And built.

And then plateaued for just one glorious moment that became and explosion of heat and ecstasy that consumed me.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggg!” I screamed as it pounded through my body.

I humped and screamed and scratched and yelled and felt a tight throbbing in my clit that I hadn’t even known was possible.

And then I was still, with her wet fingers on my thigh, my lungs heaving, and a numb dizziness in my arms and legs.

I shut my eyes and was trying to think of something to say, when suddenly she shifted and I felt her tongue flick in and out of my belly button.

She flicked it against my abdomen.

She flicked it against my pubic hair.

And then she touched it to my clit, and without warning another orgasm slammed into me.

I opened my mouth to scream, and no sound came out as a torrent of pleasure pushed through me yet again.

She wiped her tongue back and forth over my stiff button as she pushed a finger into my cunt. I felt myself throb around her finger, and when she started twisting it in time with her tongue lapping pleasure against my clit I sat up.

I was unable to move my lower half as she pinned my thighs to the bed, but I bent forward as the orgasm twisted through me over and over and over and over and over again.

As it ended my ass was off the bed and I had all my weight on my arms.

“Oh god oh fuck.” I panted.

She moved again, crawling between my legs and pushing her face into my wet pussy.

I screamed as another shock of physical delight bolted through me, and I grabbed her head and pushed against her face.

“God god god god god!” I yelled, feeling another round of intense pleasure well up within me.

And then I came again, almost as intense as my last orgasm, but longer and so much more relaxing.

I felt as if all the energy and tension inside of me shot out of my cunt as she moved her lips and tongue and finger against all my most sensitive places.

I fell back on the bed and pulled my legs up, feeling her tongue lick against me as my body shifted down and down and down into a pleased state of exhaustion. I blinked as I felt tears running down my cheeks.

Eventually I stretched my legs out on either side of her. I could feel her hot breath against my thigh, and I reached down and rested one hand on the back of her head.

Neither of us moved, and for a long time the entire house was silent, and the bed was completely still.

By the time I could speak again I didn’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ seemed lame, and I couldn’t come up with anything else. After a while I wondered if she had fallen asleep.

She changed positions again, and she was back on top of me, one of her legs between mine, and her mouth moving to my own.

I greedily pushed my tongue against hers, tasting my arousal and pleasure all over her tongue and lips and chin.

She moaned softly against my mouth, and the liquid fire of lust gripped me again.

We kissed with heat and passion, our tongues and lips conveying our feelings and need and desire back and forth between us.

I suddenly felt her press herself against my hip and moved my hand to her ass and squeezed as she pressed into me again.

Her pussy felt molten hot against me, and she began to grind her slick flesh against me as we kissed.

For a long time, it went on like that, her softly moaning and humping against my body as I held her tight.

I put my hand between us and felt for her breast, her teeth biting my tongue as I found her nipple.

“What should I do?” I asked her.

“I can cum just like this.” She said, her hips pushing back and forth against me.

I held her breast tightly with one hand, and pulled her to me with the other, and she began to pant and move faster.

“Tell me when you cum.” I said softly, kissing her neck.

“I’m gonna.” She said. “I’m gonna cum soon.”

“I want you to.” I moaned. “I want you to cum for me Merri!”

“Oh Sabrina I’m gonna cum!” she screeched, her hips fucking against me as fast as she could move them.

“Do it!” I urged her.

“Hold me tight!” she yelled. “Hold me while I go!”

I pinched her nipple again and licked her throat, and I felt her bite my shoulder and scream against it.

She moved back and forth on me, moaning and whimpering, and I felt her hot body vibrate with release.

I’m not sure quite what I expected after her orgasm ended, but I secretly hoped that she wanted to cum again.

I secretly hoped I could make her cum.

She kissed me again, and then rolled off the bed and went to her dresser. She fumbled with something for a moment, and then I heard her call for me in the family room.

“Sabrina?” she called. “Can you come in here?”

Curious I followed her into the family room and realized that she’d gone up a level into the living room.

It was a more formal room than the family room, with a matching love seat and sofa, two arm chairs, and a small China cabinet filled with school pictures, vacation mementos and the other assorted things families accumulate.

I joined her, realizing exactly how soft this deep carpet was on my bare feet.

“Help me.” She said.

I saw her take one end of the love seat and perplexed I took the other, realizing that she wanted me to help her slide it around so that it was facing the sofa. We pushed them together so that they were touching.

She went down the stairs and returned in a moment with two towels and handed one to me.

She turned the overhead lights on, and then spread out her towel on the love seat and climbed over the arm of the sofa and sat on it.

“Will you join me?” she asked with a smile.

Unsure what was happening I spread out the towel I was holding on the sofa where she indicated and soon, I was sitting exactly across from her, with our legs intertwined.

“I want to cum again.” She announced. “And I need you to watch me.”

She reached beside her on the love seat and I realized that she was holding her vibrator.

With wide eyes I watched her put her fingers against her pussy lips, and work them up and down, making sure she was slippery all over.

Her face contorted with lust as her fingers worked over her lips, and then she was rubbing the tip of the vibrator up and down against herself.

“Oh wow.” She said. “I haven’t cum in this room in a while.”

I looked around, as if realizing for the first time that we weren’t in her bedroom.

‘She likes to masturbate outside of her bedroom!’ I thought.

I turned my attention back to the show she was giving me, and she pulled the vibrator to her mouth and licked the tip of it, getting it wet with her tongue.

“Fuck.” I said softly.

I was gripped by the filthy sight of my friend sucking an artificial cock in this formal room.

She pushed it against her cunt again, this time pushing it inside a few inches, a lewd smile on her face as she did so.

“The first stretch of cock is always the best.” She said. “Even when it’s not a real one.”

I stared as she worked the toy in and out, her lips glistening with arousal, and the tip of the toy shiny with her need.

She pulled it out again and started to bring it to her mouth.

“Can I taste it?” I asked.

She froze for a second, and then held it out to me.

I leaned forward and took her hand in mine and pulled it closer to me.

Unable to help myself I closed my eyes and sniffed it, fulfilling my need from earlier. And this was better. Whatever it might have smelled like a few hours ago, now it smelled like Merri, sexy and horny and unmistakably feminine.

I flicked my tongue out and licked against it, tasting my first aroused female cunt that wasn’t my own.

I pulled it further into my mouth, feeling it against my tongue and teeth, tasting the tangy flavor of her impending orgasm, torn between wishing it was a real cock for me to play with, and glad it wasn’t so I could watch whatever Merri was planning to do with it.

I sucked it for another moment, and then let her take it away, pausing to kiss the tip of it as I made eye contact with her.

She rubbed it against her hole again, this time pausing for a brief second before using her fingers to push it up inside herself.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh.” She sighed.

I was transfixed by watching what she was doing, but so insanely jealous at the same time. I wanted to feel something hard sink itself into my needy cunt too.

She slid down on the cushions a little, and then raised her legs, planting one foot on either side of my head and pushing herself closer to me.

I suddenly understood why she’d wanted to be out here. She was doing this so I could watch.

I reached out and traced my fingertips along her inner thighs, and she groaned as she pulled the toy almost all the way out of herself, and then pushed it back in.

I kept tickling her thighs, looking at her face every few moments but concentrating on watching her pussy lips slide in, and then back out, sticking to the slippery toy as she fucked herself with it.

“Does it feel good?” I asked her.

“Yes. It does.” She said with a smile. “Especially when I’m already horny.”

“That makes everything better doesn’t it?” I asked.

“Always my dear.” She said. “But being with you when you came, that made me need this more than ever.”

I giggled.

“I enjoyed it too.” I said.

ZZZZZZZT

“Oh shit yeah!” she grunted.

The vibrator had begun to buzz softly in her, and I could feel the vibrations along her thigh.

She pumped it a bit faster, tipping it as she pulled it out to touch her clit with it.

“Wow.” I said softly.

This was the single most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

“It’s starting to feel really good now.” She said quietly.

Her hips were moving in rhythm with her wrist pulling the toy in and out, her nipples were stiff with arousal, and she was softly whimpering as her orgasm came within range.

“It won’t be long.” She moaned.

As much as I wanted to just watch, I didn’t want to be left out. I squirmed around up under her leg and using my hand I gently caressed her breast before pulling the nipple into my mouth.

“Oh Sabrina,” she moaned, “that’s so good.”

I sucked it as gently as I could, and let my fingers begin to stroke along her belly.

“It’s going to happen baby.” She whispered.

I pushed my fingers down and gasped at how slippery her gash was. I felt the toy buzzing against my fingers as it slid in and out in her frantic pace. I made my fingertips as slick as I could and then moved them to her clit, pressing hard and rubbing back and forth.

I pulled at her nipple with my teeth and saw her free hand grab the sofa cushion.

“Oh Sabrina.” She whispered. “I’m going to cum for you.”

“Cum for me Merri!” I said with her nipple between my teeth. I flicked my tongue against it. “Cum!”

“Oh fuck! Fuck! FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

I felt her clit pulse against my fingers and moved my mouth up to hers and shoved my tongue into her mouth as she screamed again, her body shaking against me.

I felt her hand on my breast twisting at my nipple, and I kissed her harder.

She was fucking herself with the vibrator and panting as her orgasm wound down.

I extended my fingers and felt the toy, hard and buzzing and slick with her orgasmic juices. As I was touching it the buzzing slowed and then stopped. She kept it pushed inside her, and I moved my fingers along her soft and hairless pussy.

I expected it to feel prickly, like my legs when they needed shaved, but instead it was as soft as her thighs had been.

“That was incredible.” She whispered. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Are you finished?” I whispered, running my index finger back and forth over her clitoris.

“Oh sweet fuck.” She groaned, leaning forward. “I thought so……”

I pushed my way between her legs, and licked her clit, before sucking it into my mouth.

Her hips rolled and I felt her hand on the back of my head.

The toy started to buzz again, and I started to suck on her stiff nub of flesh as I pushed against the toy, making sure she could feel its full length inside her.

“OHFUCKSABRINAMAKEMECUMMAKEMECUMFUCK!” she screamed again.

Her feet beat against the sofa and she pushed against me and grabbed my hair and I felt her clit jump in my mouth and I moaned in horny delight.

She rode against me for several more seconds, before pulling my hair to get me to take my lips off of her clit.

“That sounded like it felt good.” I grinned at her.

“You have no idea.” She said with a smile.

“I know.” I said. “I have got to try one of those.”

She held up the vibe and we both looked at it for a moment, and then she looked right at me and winked.

“Your turn.” She whispered.

I was on my knees next to her, and I had intended on sitting back and stretching my legs out, but she knew more about my body than I seemed to, and she moved behind me and bumped my ass with her thigh to get me to scoot forward.

“Grab the back of the couch.” She told me, taking my shoulder and guiding me.

I was on my knees, facing over the back of the couch, and she put a hand on the small of my back and I felt the toy begin to buzz against my inner thighs.

She was behind me, and I thought she was going to push it into me from that position, but instead she put the tip against my clit.

“Holy cumfuck!” I screamed, the pleasure unexpected, powerful, and consuming as the toy buzzed against my erect little clitoris.

I felt the couch move and then I felt her tongue, probing against my lips from behind.

I had never even imagined having someone tongue me from that position, and the physical sensations along with the filthy notion of what I was letting her do took me up to, and then rocketing over, the edge.

“Oh gawd! Merri I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I screeched.

The orgasm was hot and fierce and roared through me like a freight train, and the minute it stopped another started, and as I rode over the peak of the second one I felt one of Merri’s fingers rub my anus and I bucked against her, shrieking at the top of my lungs as every nerve in my body burst into white hot energy.

~

I was on my stomach, on her sofa, and I felt slick wetness on my inner thighs.

~

I felt a cool washcloth wipe my forehead, and then down my back.

~

“Come on honey.” Merri said softly.

I realized that she had moved the love seat a bit, and she took my hand and got me on my feet.

~

I followed her down the short flight of steps, through the family room, and then I was on her bed, still naked.

All the lights were on, and I saw her leave the room.

In a moment she was back.

She was also completely nude still.

The lights went off, and it was completely dark.

~

The bed rolled gently as she climbed on next to me, and a fuzzy blanket was pulled over me and she spooned against me.

~

“Merri?” I whispered.

“Yes?” she answered sleepily.

“I just…….thank you.” I said softly, my eyes stinging with tears.

She kissed the back of my neck.

“You’re welcome Sabrina.” She said. “I love you.”

“I love you too Merri.” I said.

~

I opened my eyes later in the pitch darkness of the room, and I felt her body against me. One of her arms was around me, and I felt her hand softly cupping my breast.

I went back to sleep, feeling things I hadn’t ever felt before.

Good things.

She’s also been a great supporter of what I’ve published here on Literotica.

As always I really am appreciative of anyone who enjoys, even a little bit, reading the things that I enjoy writing about.

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