How do I describe her? She wasn’t a high school sweetheart. Not the way one normally thinks of a sweetheart. We were going to different schools together, as the saying goes. A girls’ boarding school on one side of town. A military school on the other. Dates in that town usually meant going to the movies and making out. She quickly got inside my head.
She noticed I liked feeling her slip and probed. I confessed that I liked slips. I asked her for one, and she gave it to me with a kiss and knowing smile.
The school year ended, and we parted to different parts of the country. But we stayed in touch by mail. After HS, I went into the Army, and she went to college. She got married, and I thought that was that.
I got married and had pretty much forgotten her. Then one Christmas, I got a card from her. I decided to see her next time I made it to her town, just two hours down the road. So I found myself in her town on business (yeah, right!) I called her and told her I was in town. She invited me over and, of course, I went. She kissed me at the door, and we chatted a while. When she made the first move, I responded. I simply could not stay away from her. My next trip, she took me to bed.
I was addicted. I found more and more reasons to go to her. Each time was a new adventure in her arms.
One day, when I was at her place, she said, “I have something for you.” She went to her dresser and produced a pretty yellow Vassarette half slip. She said, “I know it’s not the one I gave you before, but I want you to think of me when you use it to pleasure yourself. When it needs washing, bring it to me.”
I would call her at night when on the road, and one of the first questions was, “Where is my slip?” followed by, “Is he hard?” Or the other way around, followed by instructions, taunting and even telling me to stop to keep from cumming.
One night, she handed me her shorty nightie and said, “I want to see you do it.” I resisted at first, but she kept at it, finally, I did as she asked. I lay in the bed, cradled in her lap as I played with the nightie. I didn’t realize how much she was enjoying the show, as I lost myself in the sensual pleasure. I found out later. Bit by bit, she was taking over.
A month or so later, I was at her place. We were getting ready for bed (it had become that routine). As I was about to get into bed, she said, “You may go to my dresser and pick out a slip and bring it to bed.” I didn’t know what she was up to, but I liked the start of it. Of course, I went.
She had three slips, but it was the black Lorraine that seemed to say, “Pick me!” I took it and returned to bed.
She took the slip from me as I slid into bed. She held it by the waistband and let it unfold, then made a show out of appraising it. She looked me in the eye with a mischievous grin and started on my thighs, caressing with the slip. She avoided touching my now rock-hard cock, taking the slip on a slow, sensual route up across my belly.
She briefly lingered at my nipples. I was hoping for more, using the nylon and lace to harden my nipples, but she seemed in a hurry. Up and over my chest and shoulders, then around my neck, the slip caressing and working its magic.
Then she slid the slip over my face, caressing and teasing. I could see through the nylon like it was a veil and saw her bemused expression as she bent down to kiss me through the slip. Then her tongue pushed the silky fabric into my mouth, and she owned me. The kiss lingered, and when she broke it, she guided the slip down to my hand and wrapped it around my throbbing cock.
“Show me!” she almost commanded. “Show me how you pleasure yourself with my slip!” I told her I wanted her to do it. She told me, “No! You know how to please him best. I want to see you do it!” Her guiding hand started mine, moving the slip along my nine inches. She was on her knees beside me, totally focused on “him” as she called my cock. Occasionally, she’d ask, “Is he happy? Does he like my slip?”
At first, it felt funny, doing it in front of her. This was my most private pleasure. I’d not done it in front of anyone before. Not that I hadn’t thought of doing it. With each stroke, I felt less awkward and humiliated. With every stroke, I liked that slip better.
I decided I would do this for a while, then take over, roll her and lay her. She had other plans. I made my move, and she countered me like a pro, as if she’d been expecting it. “Oh no, I want to watch you!” She actually out-wrestled me and I found myself back with her, guiding my hand and her slip back to “him”! I resumed stroking with the slip. I knew it was taking hold, and if I didn’t try again, she would win. I went for it. This time, she blocked me with ease, never taking her eyes off “him”, as he waved in the breeze.
When my hand wrapped the slip around my cock again, I knew I was beaten. She would get the show she wanted. As I resumed and the feelings started to intensify, I decided to give her the best show I could. I stopped and re-arranged the slip like a bed on my belly. Then wrapped my cock in a blanket-like way, leaving the head exposed. As soon as I started stroking again, I felt the first signs of an orgasm building. My breath started to quicken. I felt the tingling feeling. I looked down and saw “his” mouth open. She was watching it so intently that she wasn’t even toying with me.
I wanted to see her reaction as I came. It was not to be!
At that moment, my eyes rolled back, and I couldn’t see anything. I felt her reposition the slip. I didn’t know why, but it later became obvious. I could feel every fibre of the silky treasure as it continued sliding up and down my shaft. I lost count of how many pulses before I was spent.
She had one hand on my shoulder and the other on my thigh. She waited, waited until she was sure I was spent before she moved. Then, in one motion, her finger at the base of my cock, milked me and took the slip from me. I felt her sit up in bed (vision had not returned yet). I figured she’d toss the slip and roll back and make pillow talk with me. In a few seconds, my vision started to return, and I found myself looking at her back, but what was she doing?
As she finished, she began to turn back to me. I looked over her shoulder as she turned and saw what must have been all the cum I’d just given her on her left breast. I thought, “She’s going to feed that to me, and there is no way I can resist her!”
Her hand went to the nape of my neck, and she said, “This is best done in small doses.” Then she started to guide me to the large mass of sperm on her left breast (It was later that I figured out why she’d rearranged the slip. She created a pocket so she could harvest all my cum.).
As she pulled me closer, I attempted (ok, enough to keep my self-respect, maybe) to resist. She took her time and just applied enough pressure to keep me moving toward her target. My lips “splashed down” in the middle of the mass of cum. It was so slippery. I was surprised and amused by how my lips slid around on that beautiful 36C boob. I didn’t look at her face, but I imagined it had that same bemused look as before. Then I knew. I had to taste it.
I parted my lips and extended my tongue. I just wanted a little taste. But what happened next I was not prepared for. It was right out of a scene from the original Blob, the one with Steve McQueen. It’s the scene where the old bum pokes the blob with a stick. The blob slides up the stick and envelopes his hand. That’s what happened to me. My tongue hit the sperm, and it immediately coated it.
There was nothing else to do. I don’t think she was aware of any of this, just enjoying being able to get me to eat my own cum. Even after I swallowed, the coating remained. Once I’d recovered from the shock, I realized the taste was not what I was expecting either. I was expecting a brackish, bitter taste. But this was not. Just salty, but not overpowering.
She pulled me back, sensing I had cleaned her breast of all that cum. She asked, “Did you like that?”
“As far as the taste goes, I can take it or leave it. It’s just that when you serve it…”
She finished the statement for me with a smile, “You’ll take it!” I nodded sheepishly.
