As I drove up to my house, I saw Jeff unloading his car in front of his parents’ house, which was directly across from mine. He lived with them in the summer. I realized that college must be over for the year.
I stopped to say “Hi”, and we chatted for a bit. He was indeed home for the summer, and stopped to tell me about some of his plans. He had training to do for next year, and he also wanted to get a jump on next year’s engineering classes. I told him I would be happy to give him whatever help he might want. He and I both had things to do, but we agreed we would talk more throughout the summer.
I really enjoyed his company. I had gotten to know him pretty well over the past few years. He was the starting quarterback for the university, and had been a star quarterback with our local high school for several years, earning both an athletic and academic scholarship to the university. They made the playoffs this year, but not a bowl game. Next year, it was completely expected, and I was sure he would deliver.
I had graduated from college with a Masters in Computer Engineering, and was recruited by a start-up company to help develop their new, specialized chip. That is where I met Greg, my husband. He was in sales. We met during a sales meeting, designed to educate the sales force about the newly developed chip; I was the engineer designated to give the presentation.
When I met Greg in that meeting, he was just another salesperson. I had no particular interest, but he saw something in me. We went to dinner, and chemistry kicked in. I slept with him that night, and the rest is history. Our marriage was wonderful—great sex, always had fun together, loved to just be together, and we found a joint interest in cooking, of all things. We had a wonderful life.
It was sort of an unlikely match, science and sales, but it worked for both of us. He was two years older than me. I was twenty-four, and he was twenty-six when we were married. I thought we would have the perfect life together. We were very much in love, shared many interests together, and were both driven to succeed. Did I mention the great sex?
A few months after our marriage, we found the house across from Jeff’s parents. Even though it was in foreclosure, it was in great condition; we managed to negotiate a great price. That was when I first met Jeff and his parents, Jack and Cindy. Jeff was the football hero at the local high school. He took them to the state finals in his last year. That is when I really started to pay attention to him.
He knew my occupation, and intended on also becoming a computer engineer. He called one Saturday morning and asked if I had some free time to discuss his college plans, and what to expect, so as to become the best engineer possible. He saw football only as a means to his desired end; he had no intention of playing after college. I told him to come right over, I would be happy to talk with him.
I found him to be very mature, for a high school senior, and not overly impressed with himself, like many quality athletes are. We spoke for over an hour on a wide range of subjects. Knowledgeable beyond his years, he was a pleasant and interesting guy to talk to. By the time he left, I viewed him in a totally different light than I had before. Something about him interested me, on a level I did not expect.
Later that night, I went to our master bedroom. It is located on a front corner of the house, with a nice, large window overlooking the front landscaping. We had wood blinds covering the window to give us privacy.
It was my habit, in the evenings, to go in the bedroom, close the blinds and do yoga. I usually did it nude; it seemed to increase the feeling of well being the practice created in me. That night, without really consciously thinking about it, I left the blinds cracked a bit.
~~~~J~~~~
I was happy to be home for the summer. College was a mixture of wild fun and hard work, but I needed a break, at least from the hard work. The football program took up a large part of my time, at least in the first semester of each year, and my major, computer engineering, was not exactly easy. I was very happy that next year was my last year. I looked forward to experiencing the “real” world, not the artificial, academic world, and not the athletic world. Everything about computers fascinated me; I wanted to be in that world.
Being quarterback of the team had made female companionship, specifically sex, effortless. I had no interest, at this point in my life, in having a full-time girlfriend—they took up way too much time. But I did not lack for sex. Some girls, the girls I hung with, just loved doing anything to make me happy, without expectation of anything permanent. I took full advantage of their willingness. There were even a couple older, married female fans that made it clear they would just be thrilled if I would visit them when they had free time; I took advantage of those situations also.
There was always one thought that lurked in the back of my mind, Mrs. Mathews—Kristen—our neighbor across the street. I met her briefly when she and her husband, Greg, moved in about five years ago. I was just a high school kid, but in my senior year, I got to know her better when I asked her for advice about becoming an engineer. She was very enjoyable to talk with, and, several times, gave me very good advice. I also found her extremely sexy. She radiated sex—I think, without any effort, or even any idea that she did.
That was the year I discovered, quite by accident, that she practiced yoga. That is also when I discovered how totally sexy and sensual she was. I had noticed, quite awhile back, that the bedroom lights in her house came on between seven and eight, several nights a week. A few minutes after they came on, it was always Kristen who closed the blinds.
I always wondered what was going on behind them. Were she and Greg getting it on? Was she pleasuring herself alone? Maybe she was just reading in bed. My mind wandered; I preferred the sexual thoughts.
One night, the lights came on while I was up-stairs in my bedroom, which faced their house. I grabbed my binoculars, like I had done many times before, and this time I was rewarded. She had left the blinds partly open. I was transfixed, as I watched her slowly disrobe and proceed to adopt various yoga positions, and hold them for an obviously measured amount of time. The best part was, she was totally naked!
To me, she had the best body I had ever seen. She became my ideal female, my dream of a fabulous female fuck. None of the women I had been with—which was no small number—equaled her in all areas. Kristen had golden brown hair, hanging straight down past her shoulders; blue-green eyes, that almost seemed to glow.
Her general body shape was slim and athletic, but not thin. Her boobs were small, probably no more than an “A” cup, but her nipples were dark brown, thick, and long. Every time I had been able to glimpse them, they were hard—completely luscious. Her butt was perfectly rounded, but not overly so. No one could wear jeans like her. Also, there was not a hair on her body below her head. Not uncommon for sure, but her pubic area showed no signs of stubble; it was as smooth as a baby’s bottom, at least as far as I could tell from my magnified glimpses.
So I was thrilled when she pulled up to talk to me, just when I was arriving home. I know my cock got hard from my wild imagination. What I would give to be with her, deeply with her. But I was sure I was just the somewhat famous quarterback that lived across the street. She was married to Greg, who seemed like a very nice guy. She was nowhere near a football groupie. Actually, the thought of really being with her was a bit intimidating. I was twenty-one, still in college; she was probably in her late twenties, maybe thirty; an experienced, worldly woman.
~~~~K~~~~
Seeing Jeff had made me think of my college days, and the fun I had experienced in those four years. I am bright; my SAT scores were almost perfect; I earned a full academic scholarship. I thought I was an unattractive nerd, but found, once in college, guys were attracted to me. My small boobs did not matter, I became more confident; my sexuality blossomed. In my freshman year, the first guy I slept with was a senior. He changed me completely. He showed me exactly what my body could do, and how to achieve it. God, he could give me orgasms!
I dated him exclusively for several months, but he was also seeing other girls. I was not jealous; I was just happy for his company. He was in a fraternity, and we went there often for parties. As my femininity developed, my appetite for more varied experiences deepened. I branched out to other guys in the fraternity, with his support. I gained considerable understanding and appreciation of my sexuality that year, and I put it to good use in the following three years.
As I have previously said, after college, and meeting and marrying Greg, things were wonderful. Then, several years later, our small company was bought out by a large firm. Employees from both firms were fired—made redundant, as the Brits say. I was a casualty. Greg became Sales Manager for the eastern U.S. That was the beginning of the estrangement in our marriage, at least in my mind.
After sending out resumes and receiving offers, I decided to work from home as a consultant. The job offers had been good, but they all required I move. Greg had received a substantial salary increase. We either had to live apart, or one of us had to quit. I had a good reputation in the industry, as evidenced by the offers I had received. I knew I could make at least the same, or more money, working independently.
We no longer had our small company to gossip about. The corporate pressure on Greg had increased ten-fold. I was free from all but self-imposed pressure. After a few months of really hard work to establish myself, I was making more money than I had been, and working less. None of these things made for a tight, cohesive marriage. These changes all happened two years ago.
Greg did not realize it yet, but we were drifting further and further apart. He traveled almost every week, or at least part of the week. Our sex life had slowly dwindled. We were two people living together, who cared for each other, but it was not the marriage we had. Not only had I lost much of the company of my partner, I had lost much of my sex life; both were important to me.
I had tried to talk to him about it, looking for solutions. Greg sort of understood our issues, but was really too busy to do much about it. I had to either accept the evolving situation, or do something about it. For some time, I accepted it, but my sex drive was strong; it needed satisfaction. I sated myself through masturbation and some online porn. I think the porn just made it worse.
I resisted cheating on Greg, but eventually found myself thinking of ways I could, without anyone becoming suspicious, or worse, finding out. It is more difficult than it sounds. When you leave out Craigslist, and online dating sites, there is not much left. Working from home made it even more difficult. I was not out and about in the world, and I did not want to go to bars or clubs. I wanted someone I felt I had some chemistry with, not a quickie in a hotel. I made no progress until I met Jeffery on my way home, that May afternoon.
He had always stirred something in me, I always enjoyed being with him; our conversations were always interesting. He was much more mature than his years would indicate—not really that much younger than me—only eight years, I guessed. What could be more perfect? He was young, vigorous, and the neighbors knew we had a friendly relationship. Besides, most neighbors were not home during the day, including his parents.
I had no idea how to approach him. Our meetings and conversations had almost always been related to my work, or his football and course work at the university. However, I had not missed the fact that he seemed to enjoy my nipples; his eyes were drawn there every time he thought I would not notice—I noticed.
I was always very casual at home. I mostly wore some kind of cami, or tank top and shorts. I never wore a bra at home, since I didn’t have that much to support, and enjoyed the freedom. When going out, my nipples had to be contained; I was not comfortable with two points showing, and they always did show.
An idea had just occurred to me, but it needed to be fully thought through. Greg would be home soon, I needed to get dinner ready; the idea went to the back of my mind for later.
To make a long story short, the weekend went as many others did. Greg and I both worked on our projects, watched a movie on HBO, ate and slept—two people occupying the same space; I might as well have had a guy roommate.
By Sunday, I had formulated my plan, simple as it was. Jeff’s father, Jack, had two old cars, a Corvette and a MG. It was common to see both of them working on one of them, over weekends, when Jeff was home. It was obvious that Jeff was car savvy.
I intended to disable my Miata in a way that should be easily found, then call Jeff, asking if he could please come over and try to fix my car. Part of the conversation would be me offering to do anything if he could fix it for me.
In advance of that call, I had taken an old pair of low rise, denim shorts and cut them even shorter. The rear came down about a inch further than where my butt met my thighs. I angled the front so that at my crotch, only the thick seam was present. I also took an old, scoop-neck tee shirt and cropped it, so it hung half-way between my navel and my boobs. If this did not work, I didn’t know what would. It was the strongest invitation I could imagine without flat out jumping his bones.
Monday morning came; Greg left for work; I went to inspect my car. I settled on an ignition wire that I made appear to have somehow worked itself loose. The car would not start and it should be easily found. I called Jeff around eleven, with any luck, he would come over at lunch time. I planned to offer him a sandwich and a beer after he fixed the car, in order to give him time to relax—hopefully enough to make a move on me.
I answered the doorbell, “Hi Jeff! Thanks so much for coming over. It was running fine yesterday. It must be something simple. I hope so, anyway.”
He looked me up and down as he came in the door. “Ah… ya, well sure. I am more than happy to check it out for you.”
“Well, let me show you to the garage. Would you like to stay for a sandwich and a beer after you look at it?”
“Hell, yes! I mean, that would be nice.”
Laughing, I said, “No worries. I am not exactly a neophyte to words much more explicit than that.”
“Thanks. Well, let me go look at the car. I can probably find the problem. I learned a lot from my dad and his vintage cars.”
With that, I showed him the tools we had, leaving him to figure it out. I went to make sandwiches for us.
~~~~J~~~~
When I got the call from Kristen, I was elated. Ever since we talked on Friday, and I saw her doing her yoga a couple of nights, I had wanted to find a way to go over and talk with her. Of course I wanted to fuck her, but I knew I would have to be satisfied with talking, dreaming, and, when I could, enjoying the view of her body, especially her nipples—they always were visible, to one degree or another.
I put on a tight tee shirt and a baggy pair of shorts, hoping, of course, to impress her with my well developed muscles. When she answered the door, I was stunned, almost speechless. She looked absolutely incredible. I knew she almost always wore shorts and some tee-type top, but this sight was practically beyond belief. Her stomach was completely flat, and looked as hard as mine. Her nipples were poking through that cut-off top like bullets ready to fire. And then her ass—when she was leading me to the garage… completely perfect. My cock had gone from zero to eleven on a hardness scale of ten; I hoped she did not notice.
Once in the garage and working on the car, I calmed down. I wanted to fix it and awe her with my amazing abilities. It actually was a pretty easy fix. I found a critical ignition wire that had somehow worked its way loose. Needle-nose pliers tightened it back in place; the car started right up. She heard the car start and came out.
“Wow! You got it fixed. My hero! What was the problem?”
“Well, it was kind of complicated. It is lucky I have a good knowledge of automobiles. There was an issue with the ignition system, but I was able to get it repaired. It should give you no more problems.”
“Thanks again! Come on in, lunch is served. Have a beer and relax.”
I followed her, unable to take my eyes off her ass, dreaming of the possibilities it held. We sat at her kitchen table, across from each other. She chatted about things I have no real memory of. I know I did do my part to keep up the conversation; I never wanted it to end, but really, I could only think of her naked, begging me to fuck her.
~~~~K~~~~
I didn’t know what else to do. I had stood as close to him as I could at the front door. I gave him a wonderful view of my ass, going to the garage. When I heard the car start I went to the garage—again standing as close to him as possible—while he explained how he had repaired the car. Once again he had a perfect view of my ass as I lead the way back in the house and to the kitchen.
We ate, slowly sipping our beers as we talked about anything and everything.
We had finished the sandwiches and most of the beer; the conversation was lagging. I was about out of moves, so I stood, picked up the plates, and went to the sink to begin cleaning them.
~~~~J~~~~
When she reached across the table to take my plate, I had the best view yet of her tits. They were incredible. Watching her walk to the sink was about the last I could take. I quickly ran through all the day’s events in my mind. She had said she would do anything; she was dressed much more skimpy than I had ever seen her; she had never previously given me views of her like today. She was either toying with me, teasing me, just for kicks, or she really wanted me to make a move on her. I had to find out, without totally making a big mistake and ruining our friendship.
I stood up and walked up behind her as she was washing the dishes, close enough to put my hands on her hips and for her to slightly feel my hardness.
“You know, you really keep in great shape. I think your stomach is flatter than mine,” I said, as I slowly began to move my hands from her hips, across her stomach. She froze in position, plates held in mid-air.
“Thanks, I work at it. Mostly yoga and running.”
Taking a deep breath, I said, apprehensively, “I was thinking…”
“Yes?”
“You did say on the phone you would do anything if I fixed your car.”
“And I meant it.”
I started, ever so slowly, to slightly raise my hands, “So if I was to let my hands drift upwards towards your chest…”
“It would be wonderful,” she quickly said.
Oh my God! I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. My hands reached her breasts, my fingers just touching her nipples. The plates clattered in the sink; she grabbed the front of the counter, her body frozen, un-moving. I started to move my hands in a circular motion, my palms just brushing against the tips of her nips.
~~~~K~~~~
“Oh, God yes, Jeffery! What took you so long?” I said, as I threw my head back on his shoulder.
He had finally made a move. I was so anxious and excited; I had to grab the edge of the counter to keep my balance. His hands were teasing my nipples, running in circles across their tips.
“Grab them—squeeze them—pull them! Make me know you want them.”
He wasted no time. Soon, electrical-like shocks were running from my boobs. He was rubbing, stroking, and stretching them. My dampness was quickly turning to wetness. It was going to happen. Finally, a dynamic, strong man was going to take me, fuck me. Now I could feel his hard cock pressed tightly into me—as he worked over my boobs.
Then, one of his hands went to my crotch.
“God, Kristen, you are dripping! I feel the heat.”
He dropped his other hand, trying to unbutton and unzip my shorts. “No, go back to my boobs. I will get these off.”
I finally let go of the counter and released my shorts, pulling and wiggling out of them until they dropped to the floor. I kicked them to the side, as I moderately spread my legs. Now as his hand found my pussy, a finger slipped into me. He kept switching between fingering me and fondling my clit.
~~~~J~~~~
At this point, I’m not sure I really believed this was happening. My big gamble had paid off. God, she had the best tits I had ever felt—nipples so big and hard, obviously very sensitive. She urged me on. I played with them harder and faster. She just moaned and leaned back against me.
I had to feel her twat; I dropped one hand down there. As I suspected, her shorts were soaked in her juice and her body heat was noticeably radiating. I tried to get her shorts off but she stopped me, wanting me back on her boobs, as she wriggled out of the shorts. When they dropped, I immediately went back to her snatch. Her mound was so soft, I had never felt anything like it. Even the most fastidious girls I had known always seemed to have just hint of stubble—hers was like the proverbial baby’s butt.
Her legs had spread, my finger slid in so smoothly. A few finger fucks and then on to her clit. Her pussy was an “outie”, my favorite kind. Her prominent clit was hard and out of its hood.
When I began to rub it, she moaned out, “Ah, Jeffery, it has been so long, it is so good. Anything, anything, as long as you fuck me—fuck the you know what out of me.”
“No worries there, Kristen! You have no idea how long I have dreamed of this.”
With that, I spun her around, facing me, and began using two fingers to fuck her twat—hitting her clit with the palm of my hand at the same time. That produced longer, louder cries of pleasure.
~~~~K~~~~
For so long it had only been my fingers, or a dildo in there. His thick, adept fingers were wonderful, coupled with his hand hitting my clit. I was in ecstasy. After he had turned me, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He was incredibly muscular; he put Greg to shame.
Soon, he pulled his fingers out; before I could complain, he began slapping my clit and the area just below it. My juice was splashing everywhere it seemed.
“Oh Baby, slap it, whack that clit. Make me cum! Damn, I need to cum so badly.”
I could feel it building in me. There are orgasms, and then there are orgasms! This was going to be the latter.
His blows kept driving me closer and closer… “Christ, Jeff, I am going to cum! finger me like before. Fuckkkk. Yessss. Now… Oh, shit!”
My body was trembling like it used to do years ago. As it was starting, two fingers shot up in me, lifting me on my toes—they started to curl inside me, to rub my special spot. I totally lost control. I was hanging on his hand, fingers in me, and moving in just the right spot.
“Oh my fucking God, Jeffery!”
I sought out his lips—we locked in an ardent, lustful kiss.
~~~~J~~~~
It was a totally primal reaction to sharply thrust my fingers up into her. I did it quick and hard. I think it was my natural throwing reaction, to continue the movement upward. Next thing I realized, I was holding her partially off the floor, fingers curling where I thought her “G” spot might be. I seemed to have hit it. She began trembling, and just screaming, after she had shouted she was going to cum, to keep using my fingers.
I think it was both our natural reactions to kiss. It was deep, long, and passionate. When her shuddering stopped, I slowly let her down and our mouths parted. I eased out my fingers—bringing them to my mouth to taste her. She was especially sweet; I wanted more.
The next thing I knew, she was on her knees, undoing my shorts. They quickly dropped, and having gone commando that morning, my boner popped up in her face.
~~~~K~~~~
I was still feeling minute tremors and panting a bit, when I dropped to my knees in front of him, undoing his shorts. As baggy as they were, they swiftly hit the floor. Two surprises greeted me: he wore no undies and he was well endowed.
“Wow, Jeff! Still waters run deep with you, I guess.”
“You like?”
“No… I love it!” I said, as I took him in my mouth.
He was so beautiful—definitely thicker and longer than Greg—totally hairless, very smooth, with just a hint of stubble. I briefly thought he would enjoy the results produced by my favorite waxer, but then it was all about his cock and my mouth. I sucked him deeply; I played with just his cock-head; I licked him from bottom to top, and back; I gently fondled his low-hanging balls, carefully taking them, one by one, in my mouth.
It had been so long; this began to make up for all my deprived time. He was moaning; lightly holding my head; telling me how good I was, how much he had wanted me. I went on and on, wanting to please him, but also wanting to enjoy the feelings that had been left behind, seeming so long ago.
I knew the signs that he was getting closer to cumming, so I reluctantly reduced my efforts. As much as I wanted him to fill my mouth, I wanted him to fill my pussy more.
“Oh no, no, I was about to cum!”
“Believe me, I know, Jeff. I wanted it as bad as you, but I really need you in my pussy. You have no idea how long it has been.”
I reluctantly released him and rose up to meet his lips. As I kissed him, I said, “I desperately want you to fuck me. My need is extreme. Do your best. or worst. to me—however you want to look at it, then we will talk. Right now, it is the bedroom for us, with you quickly between my legs.”
I turned and headed to the master suite, with him close behind. Once there, I ripped the covers off the bed and jumped on it, legs spread, waiting to once again feel a cock taking me in conquest. He was between my legs in an instant, his mouth hungrily seeking my puss.
~~~~J~~~~
I could not believe she had stopped blowing me—just as I was about to cum, to fill that luscious mouth with my hot load. But fucking sounded awfully good. She talked about being desperate; I was not desperate for women, but she had no idea how badly and for how long I had wanted her. I hoped we would talk later, but right now, all I wanted was to fuck her, multiple times, if possible. She seemed to want it rough, so I would give it to her rough.
It did not take us long to get in bed, and I squandered no time beginning to eat her pussy. I sucked her clit as far into my mouth as I could, kneading it with my tongue. From her cries and moans, I was doing the right thing. Like a flash, I seized her tits with my hands and began squeezing, rubbing, twisting and pulling them.
“Oh, damn, Jeff! Yes, yes. Eat me, suck my clit, pull my nipples! Ahhhh… Ohhhh… Keep it up, I am yours.”
Not long after, I heard, “Fuck! I am cumming! Ohhhh… Shit, yes!”
A small flow of her sweet juice ran into my mouth, I drank every drop. No woman had ever tasted so good to me. I plunged my tongue in and out of her tunnel to give her clit a brief rest, as I continued my assault on her tits. By now, she was just quivering and moaning.
I went back to her clit. She jumped, “I am not sure I can… Oh yes, suck it, lick it. Fuck ya!”
Then she reverted to moaning, interspersed with screams, or squeals of delight. Her second orgasm was not long in manifesting itself.
~~~~K~~~~
His assault on my vagina and nipples was like Sherman’s march to the sea, unrelenting and ferocious. He made me cum twice, in what might have been record time. I was so horny and lustful, it was probably no big challenge for him, but it thrilled me. Now my mind and body were screaming for his cock. I felt rapacious and greedy, nothing mattered except fucking.
I grabbed his wrists and pulled and pulled. He did not want to abandon my puss, but I really needed him. He was reluctant at first, but then he came up and we kissed ravenously.
He managed to say, “Kristen, I want you to know that I have lusted after you for literally years. I looked at you as the perfect female. You have surpassed even my wildest dreams.”
“Oh, Jeff, you are an amazing guy. I want you so damn bad! Fuck me now!”
As his hips moved, his cock seeking my soaking, swollen tunnel, he went on, “You want to get fucked, well now you will be, until you scream for mercy.”
Big talk, I thought, as his cock found my cunt. He had gained a coating of my lube fluid as it sought its home, so, with no warning, he rammed it home.
“Holy shit!” I screamed.
He rose up, gathered my legs under his arms, and laid back down on me. Most of his weight was on his knees and elbows. He was pounding me like a jackhammer. The only thing I could move to any degree was my arms, and they just flailed around, useless.
I tried to form words, but I was already gasping for breath, gulping in air to feed my hammering heart. All I could do was utter unearthly cries. I felt an orgasm already developing. Between his impressive organ slamming my pussy, and his pube area hitting my clit, I knew a climax would soon hit. If he kept this up, I would be lost in a mental expanse of pure carnal wantonness. My mind would go blank as animalistic sexual desire took over what would become my constantly shuddering and quivering body.
I am sure my eyes must have rolled back in my head, as that first orgasm ran through me. Looking back, I am not sure I had ever experienced one that strong in my life. My prediction became reality. I was lost to his sexual fervor and potency; it would not stop until he was sated.
~~~~J~~~~
From the moment I tasted her snatch, I knew what our sex would be like. I might never have a second chance, I was going to make this one my best, making it last as long as possible. She tasted so friggin good and I wanted that cunt so bad. As I gave her the two orgasms, I felt a kind of omnipotence rising in me, something I had never felt before.
I briefly resisted when she tried to pull me up to fuck her, but I knew it was my karma to fuck her this day—to merge with her, to make her mine, if only for a short time. After I told her of my long desire for her, my primal nature took over. She was to be conquered, to be given her desires in vast magnitude. I plunged fully in on my first stroke, and never stopped.
I let my mind wander to other things, non-sexual things. I had to preserve my eventual climax for as long as possible. I had incredible stamina, I could keep fucking until my eventual explosion in her—I intended to make that a long time.
Her body was shaking, her breathing coming in gulps. We had been staring at each other until her eyes lost focus and closed. She was in the grasp of her orgasms like I had never seen in any other woman. I was jealous that I could not experience what she was feeling, awed by her ability to withstand my constant, hard pounding.
Her arms were jerking around and sometimes she would thrash her head from side to side, mostly when another orgasm struck her; there was not much time in-between. We were both covered in sweat—mine dripping on her, and ours combined, running onto the bed. She was wailing, in what I took to be her sexual rapture.
I had no idea of time passing. I was a bit lost in my own mental rapture. Finally, I did detect her cries becoming less strong, and her physical manifestations becoming weaker. It was time for me to have my own orgasm, to spew my seed into her, to fill her as full as possible.
With my mind totally focused on our fucking, it did not take long. I felt my first surge building in me, and then burst out, blasting into her seeming vast depths. My pounding slowed drastically as my body went rigid, pulse after pulse erupting from my cock.
She abruptly and completely relaxed. Her eyes started to flutter open. I released her legs but stayed in her, holding my weight off her. I watched her eyes, as her gasping returned to normal breathing. Her eyes were totally focused on me, as she grinned and whispered, “Mercy.”
Our eyes were still locked. I began to laugh and so did she. I hated to admit it, but I was a bit exhausted myself. As much as I did not want to, I had to pull out of her hot, luscious tunnel of love and lie on my back.
~~~~K~~~~
“Good God, Jeffery! What planet are you from? You must be an alien being. No one has ever come close to doing what you just did to me. I don’t think I can move, nor do I want to.”
“I told you, you needed to scream for mercy. That was just a whisper.”
“And I was lucky to get that out,” I said, laughing again. “Damn, you are beginning to drip out. I wanted to keep it in there longer, maybe make a baby!
His eyes got huge. His mouth opened but nothing came out. “Don’t worry, I was kidding you. Birth control is a wonderful thing. Had ya there for a minute though, didn’t I?”
“Jesus Christ, don’t scare me like that!” After a few seconds, he said, “So are you happy, now that you have had your college boy fling?”
“I told you we would talk, and we will, but not now; I really am too exhausted. I admit I underestimated you, to both our benefit, I think,” I said, with a sly grin. “And this is no ‘fling’. I want it to be just the beginning, if you do also…?”
“My God, Kristen, I could be with you every day. If you were not married, I would be pursuing you like a kitty after catnip.”
I know I had a big smile, as I said, “Great! Now get out of here, and let me just lie here, oozing and relaxing. I want this feeling to linger, and I want to feel you slowly seeping out of me.”
We shared a few more brief words about getting together again, then he went to get his clothes. I heard the front door open, and quietly shut. Closing my eyes, I relived the incredible bliss that had overcome me, as his seed slowly came out, drip by drip…
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Authors Note: This story was a totally new style for me; telling a story sort of in parallel, from the male and female points of view. As such, I would really appreciate any comments you have regarding that. Did I waste my time or is this an engaging way to read a story. I plan sequels but there is no sense if my readers feel more traditional styles are better. Thanks in advance for your comments and always for your support in my journey through this world of writing.
