Wednesday, December 31, 2008

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

So... what are you doin' New Year's Eve? Maybe you'll be at the Peep Drop in Bethlehem, PA, or The Cheese Drop in Plymouth, WI. Maybe instead you'll be watching the Peach Drop in ATL or the Great Sausage Drop (my favorite) in little Elmore, OH just down the road from the world famous Walleye Drop in Port Clinton. They drop a big Acorn in Raleigh, NC. Why? I'm not sure. In Easton, MD they'll let a Maryland Crab fall to Earth, which is cool, but you have to love that in crazy Key West, FL they will lower (not drop!) a Pirate Wench. I better get going if I'm gonna get to the Keys in time to catch that comely wench!

Whatever you do tonight, don't get hurt... and don't hurt someone else. That's my only rule you crazy kids.



Tuesday, December 30, 2008

BBF and R&B

The uptown area of our little college town was probably like many small towns across the country. It consisted of about eight blocks of mainly two story brick buildings, the first floor housing a business and the second floor being either offices or apartments. All across the Midwest these buildings held appliance stores, repair shops, greasy spoons, insurance offices, and the like. This being a college town where the student population exceeded the townie population the stores were bars, head shops, taverns, record stores, boutiques, pubs, college book stores, bars, a Marx-Lenin reading room, bars, health food stores, t-shirt shops, taverns, and a bagel shop.

I walked with Linda, listening to her talk about something or other and remembering her voice and how she flirted with me at a dinner at Luigi’s when she was with a jerk who she later dumped and I was with Margery who later dumped me. No wonder I can’t remember what she was talking about, my mind was weighing other things.

We went up a narrow staircase that led from a door in between the record store and a gift shop. Linda’s little apartment was over the gift shop. It was clean, drafty, and decorated in the current style: cheap print cloth from India draped over beat-up furniture and used to cover banged-up walls. Macrame plant hangers were suspended everywhere with hand-thrown pots nested in them holding plants in various stages of certain death. A foot locker sat in front of the batik-covered couch doubling as a cocktail table. On it was a stack of art books, matches, a lighter, and a clean ash tray. Linda's foot locker was new and blue in color. The one back in my dorm room was olive drab and had my dad’s name stenciled on it as well as several shipping labels that were yellowing and peeling off. Mine went through WW2, her’s had probably come from a trendy, modern, 70's boutique. I liked mine better.

Linda turned the heater up, put a tea kettle on the tiny gas range, and told me to have a seat. I plopped down on the couch as she turned around and took her gloves, head scarf, and enormous Army coat off. I was instantly glad she did as under it she had on a beige sweater. It was a tight sweater and none too thick. No wonder she was cold when I saw her on campus, the poor thing didn’t dress properly and had started her day in this refrigerator of an apartment. Linda had adopted the popular habit of not wearing a bra and it was evident that she was still quite cold. I tried not to stare at the evidence, of course, while I immediately began to reconsider my idea of joining a celibate order or the priesthood. I mean, after, all, I’m not even Catholic.

She ducked into her tiny bathroom to mess with her hair since she had been wearing that scarf. I thought she looked fine when she came out, whatever she had done. She sat in a chair across from me and we engaged in small talk about school until the kettle whistled and she poured us some tea. Tea to me was a bag of Lipton dunked until a dark beverage was produced. Tea to Linda was a bunch of stuff that looked like green pot scooped into a miniature aluminum diving bell with holes punched in it. That device was dunked for a while in a mug of hot water until a pale, greenish liquid resulted. I sipped some and thought it tasted like yard clippings soaked in hot water. She sat down next to me on the couch and seemed to enjoy her tea and the warmth it provided.

We talked about her a bit. She had changed her major to Fine Arts which meant she’d be at school a fifth year. I wondered to myself if that was fallout from her pal Margery leaving, if she was afraid to leave school, or if she just liked art. After we talked for a while she remarked that I didn’t seem very happy or talkative—that I had changed since the last time she saw me—she hadn’t thought of me as being moody. I told her I was surprised she even remembered me and never considered that she might think of me, moody or otherwise. I told her I had broken up with a girlfriend and wasn’t very happy about it. She said she was sorry and asked how fresh the wound was and I told her that it had happened last December.

She smiled, almost laughed, and said, “Wow. That’s a long time to be down about breaking up with someone. Doncha think?”
I allowed as how it might be.
“I think there are a few girls around campus that would help you out with your problem, ya know?” she said. She said it with a very light-hearted tone—not an intimation that she had herself in mind for that gruesome duty. I considered her statement in silence for a while. She was right about one thing, I wasn't very talkative.
“You wanna get high?” she said.
“Nah, but don’t let me stop you,” I said.
“Cool,” she said. She went into the tiny bedroom on the other side of the wall behind the couch and came back with a very tightly rolled number and fired it up. I went over to the stove and poured hot water in my mug thereby diluting my beverage to something more like steaming dishwater and less like boiled weeds. Delish!
Linda had not been terribly keyed-up before she smoked, but she was very calm afterwards. She turned to face me on the couch and got seriously interested in me and what I was all about. Stoned she thought the most common and mundane things were “heavy.” I told her some stuff, some of it even true, figuring she wouldn’t remember much of it anyway.
After about an hour of this deep conversation Linda suddenly said, “Hey, are you hungry? Let’s go down to the BBF, OK, Willie-boy?”
“Sure,” I said. And we got our coats back on and walked a couple blocks down the street to the Burger Boy Food-O-Rama. After we filled up on burgers, fries, and milkshakes we walked back to Record Revolution where I purchased Live 'Full House' by the J. Geils Band and I’m Still in Love With You by Al Green. RecRev gave a fifty cent discount when you bought two slabs of vinyl so I always took advantage of their good nature.

Back out on the street Linda asked me to come back up to her chilly apartment right next door. It seemed like a very friendly request from a stoned young lady who had just had a good meal. I said I thought I’d rather go to the dorm and listen to my new tunes and invited her to come along. She said she thought it might be fun and so she walked down the hill with me. We got to my little room and she took her big coat off and sat on the bed in her jeans, tight beige sweater, and high fringed boots while I put on my new Al Green LP. We kissed during the six minutes of the first two tracks. Her sweater came off quite easily during track 3, “Love and Happiness” and I enjoyed her firm, bare breasts and erect nipples to the fullest of my limited ability.
By track four I was pretty certain I had never really been serious about celibacy.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Your Time Machine Awaits

The wake-up call woke us both at 6. Jackie had to get moving much faster than I did since she was flying home from Dulles before noon. I had another meeting with the attorney and then would fly for LAX in the late afternoon. With the time difference I should get back in time to pick the kids up. I was drinking a cup of hotel room coffee while she was finishing up getting ready to leave. I leaned against the door jamb watching her brush her hair and apply her eye makeup and then lipstick. It seemed like just an hour ago that I went over to talk to her down in the hotel bar.
“Have I ever told you about my fantasy?” I said.
“Which one, I’ve lost count,” she said.
“Funny. My favorite fantasy. The one where this beautiful woman staying with me is getting ready in the morning and has a big appointment, or let’s say an airplane to catch, that she can’t be late for... she’s all ready to go, has her makeup on, her clothes are just right… she even has her sunglasses on, ready to go outside… and yet she takes the time to give me a fantastic blowjob. Of course, she has to swallow every drop since she can’t let it get on her clothes or face or in her hair, ya know… no time to change or clean up.”
“Nice try. I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I see you. Any idea when that will be?” she said.
“I don’t have any travel scheduled right now, which is rare. But I know that I’ll need to go to Nashville in about a month or so,” I said.
“A month. Hmmm… maybe I’ll just fly to California for a weekend,” she said.
“That might be awkward to explain to my kids,” I said.
“Oh yeah. A month, huh? Too bad I just learned about that last minute blowjob fantasy. Call me, OK?” she said. And we kissed. Then she was out the door.

A few hours later I was sitting in the conference room waiting for James the lawyer to show. My bags were piled in the corner and I wanted to bolt for an earlier flight. He showed up, about 15 minutes late, and got right to the pressing business at hand like I knew he would.
“I never got hold of that little blondie,” he said.
“Did you try to call her at the hotel?” I said.
Fuck yeah! You kiddin’? Tried The Mayflower, and a bunch of others too. Even called your hotel. Nobody registered by that name anywhere in town that I could find,” he said.
“That’s weird. Did you use the right name?” I said.
“I used the one you gave me. Jacqueline Hunter, right?” he said.
“That’s her name. Her married name anyway, which is what she would register with I guess,” I said.
“What other name would she use? Maybe she’s still in town.”
I hesitated for a split second. I knew she was not in town anymore so not in immediate danger of Jim finding her, but my mind was calculating what all he knew about her. Realtor... state she lived in… maybe city, I couldn’t recall if she had mentioned that in the bar, would he track her down at home? I didn’t want that.
“Sampson,” I said, “Sampson was her name before she got married. Jackie Sampson.”
The slight hesitation did me in. He stared at me.
“You are bangin’ her. Dammit, I knew it!” James said.
“Me? No, man, years ago, yeah. But, we’re just buddies now. Hell, I didn’t even know she was in town… hadn’t talked to her in a long time. It was just a coincidence that she was in the bar,”
“I don’t believe in coincidence. She just shows up in the lounge at your hotel and you don't know anything about it? Then she's completely off the grid when I try to run her down last night? Nah, you’re definitely nailin’ that. But what I can’t figure out is why you don’t want anybody to know. If I was doin’ that I’d be telling you all about it,” he said.
“I’m sure you would. But really, I’m not having an affair with her. And, I’m not too comfortable with how you’re talking about her, Jim. She’s my friend, ya know?”
“Sure. No problem. But just one more thing… you say she’s your 'friend'... and you know she’s married... and yet you still encouraged me to try to find her last night. That doesn’t seem like something a friend would do," he said.
"Jim, I know her well enough to know she isn't happy with her marriage. You seem like a good guy, ya know, I thought maybe you two would hit it off. I mean she seemed to be flirting with you. Seemed that way to me. Anyway, I'm not her brother... " I said.
He considered that for a moment. Then he must have realized there's no way I would think of him as a "good guy" because he smiled slightly and shook his head slowly.
"I think you knew I’d never find her because you gave me her married name and you know she uses her other name for business and, you really knew I wouldn’t find her ‘cause she was in your room all night,” he said, “Which is cool with me. None of my business, Wilson.”
I just looked at him, wanting to go across the table and smack the shitty smile off his face. “We need to get finished here so I can catch my flight to LAX.” I knew the motherfucker was going to use this bit of intel against me with my enemies inside the company.

When I started telling this part of my story—the part about the reunion with Jackie Sampson—I never thought it would go this long and in such detail. I’ve enjoyed the hell out of getting it down on paper—er—pixels. But, it’s time to travel back in time again about 24 and a half years from where I’m leaving off, in that law office in Washington DC. That means we’ll be going back to the second half of my sophomore year in college. Jackie and I had just broken up. I was a miserable, mopey dope. Thank God I had gotten interested in Radio-TV classes, thanks to Jill the beautiful R.A. I believe it was all that saved me that winter. After all, my history with women at this point was actually pretty ugly. Denise, my high school girlfriend and first fuck ever drifted away before college. Molly had been a less than spectacular success. Margery was an intense experience but it ended quickly, abruptly and, for me, bitterly. Diana was a blast but she had gotten herself launched right out of school, the wild little thing. Jackie had been the best thing to happen to me on the female front, but now that was done and I was then very certain I’d never see her again.

By spring I was just a total loser. I hadn’t touched a girl since the last time I had seen Jackie as she was leaving me the weekend of the Tull concert. I was pretty certain I would be celibate for the rest of my life. Aside from my interest in my classes that term, the only thing keeping me from spinning out of control was the fact that I had a single room in the suite back in the dorm. No roommate to scandalize with my masturbation addiction. I was a total slave to jacking off. I had a box a week Kleenex habit. It was better than getting dumped again, although I did worry a lot that it might cause an inability to achieve an erection without self-manipulation. A worry that was somewhat unfounded as it turned out.

As I was walking along the brick walkway angling across the main part of campus on a very cold afternoon in late March, I passed someone in an Army surplus coat and jeans going the other way. I caught a glimpse of the face and thought I knew the person but wasn’t sure so, loser that I now was, I didn’t say anything. A few seconds later I heard a voice behind me say, “Wil? Is that you, Wil?” I turned and looked. I knew the voice and what I could see of the face but couldn’t think of her name.
“It’s me, Linda. I met you through Margery about a year ago, remember?”
“Oh, Hi… Linda, how’re you doin’?” I knew instantly that I was dazzling her with my sparkling conversation skills. I was the Mayor of Loserville. No, not that exalted. I was the Deputy Vice Mayor of Loserville.

When I knew Linda the year before she, like Margery, was very, um, sorority-looking. Nice clothes, seemingly wealthy, probably destined for a good career. Now she looked like, well, she looked like a hippie chick. Jeans, big oversized olive-colored Army coat, fringy leather boots that she was wearing on the outside of her jeans. How was this the same Linda?

“I’m freezing is how I’m doing. Aren’t you? Are you going to class?” she said.
“Nah, I was going to Record Revolution. See what’s new,” I said.
“Hey, I live in the apartment right above the store next to there. How about if I blow off my class and we’ll go to my place and get some hot tea? Really, I’m freezing and I can afford to miss the class. Just needed a good excuse, and you're it. We can get caught up and then you can go to the record store,” she said.
“Sure. OK,” I said. S ee? Dazzling.

I didn’t want to talk about Margery and I didn’t want to talk about me. So I guess we’d have to talk about Linda. Maybe I’d find out why she started to wear funky clothes. I did think she was pretty attractive back when I’d see her with Margery—like that day we all went to the quarry—the last time I saw both of them I guess. Linda looked great that day. In her little two-piece swimsuit. But now she had on a coat that would fit a 225 lb Army Private. And did I mention this scarf-like thing wrapped around her head so you couldn’t even see she had hair? It really was Linda though, ‘cause sure as hell, as we walked along the sidewalk the first fuckin’ thing she says is, “Do you ever hear from Margery?”

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Let's Go To Nathan's

Jackie was very quiet. She pressed her back against me in bed facing away from me. I was wide awake but she was sleepy from the cocktails. Normally she didn’t drink alcohol, and martinis weren’t exactly the easiest way to start drinking. After about an hour of her resting and me wondering what was on ESPN I asked her, “Why were you so nervous earlier—in the bar?”
“It all started to seem so, I dunno, reckless,” she said, “Flying over to meet you in a hotel and all.”
“We met in a hotel a couple weeks ago,” I said.
“But that was on my turf. I guess I felt like I had some control that weekend. This was… is... different. Plus, everything went really well the last time. Really well… so this seemed scary, I guess.”
“Still nervous?” I asked.
“No. Not at all. But I think I need something to eat… to soak up the drinks. Know anywhere around here? I’d like to get some air, too.”
I told her I knew a good place. We got cleaned up. We got our clothes straightened up and back on. And we got ourselves about 5 or 6 blocks down the street to Nathan’s.

We didn’t eat much, but it was good to get out of the hotel for an hour or so. I was worried we’d run into James the lawyer, or somebody I worked with, but thankfully that didn’t happen. Looking at Jackie while we ate, I thought she looked every bit as good as usual but she also looked, um, freshly fucked. She had spent some time in the bathroom back at the hotel getting everything in place, but there was definitely a look to her like she’d been knocked off her axis slightly. Hard to explain, but her poise and composure wasn’t what I had seen pretty much constantly since our reunion commenced a couple of weeks ago back in the bar of her hotel. Maybe it was the drinks that had her off balance. Or those shoes.
On the short cab ride back to the hotel I asked her if she was alright. She nodded, grabbed my arm with both hands, leaned into me, kissed my cheek, and hung on tightly.
“I’ve never trusted anybody enough to let them do that,” she whispered.
“And… you liked it? Hated it? What?” I said.
“Nobody but you. Ever,” she said.
I smiled. But it also made me a little uneasy. I was flattered, but worried just a tiny bit.

Back up in the room we stood together kissing just inside the door to the room. I enjoy kissing and Jackie does also. So we did that for a while. We stood holding each other and she said, “We call each other all sorts of nasty stuff when we’re in bed, don’t we.”
“Yeah, we do,” I said.
“You don’t think of me as any of those things outside of the bedroom, do you?” she said.
“No more than you think of me as an illegitimate child,” I said.
“I almost called you a mean bastard earlier, but I remembered you pointing out that you weren’t ‘mean’. You are one rough motherfucker though,” she said. And we both laughed.
She headed off to the bathroom after grabbing her overnight bag. I stripped down again and got back into bed. It was a good twenty minutes before Jackie came out of the bathroom. She no longer looked "off her axis." She was all put together again and this time was wearing a pale, floor-length, see-through gown. If it came with matching panties she had forgotten them. She slid into bed and pressed her breasts against my chest. My hands found her ass and I held her cheeks tightly through the sheer fabric.
“Could I really get a thousand dollars?” she said.
“Actually, I was going to charge Jimmy boy two thousand. A thousand was just your share,” I said.
She bit my chest.
“Hey! That hurt!” I laughed. It didn’t leave a mark.
That really was mean. What did he say about me? Really, don’t kid about it,” she said.
“Seriously? Do you really want to know?”
“Yeah. I mean he must be pretty sophisticated… a big DC lawyer… did he really think I was attractive?” she said.
“What am I, a fucking fencepost here? Damn, Jackie! He works for me! You really should concentrate on fucking your way to the top, ya know.” I said.
“Stop it, Wil. I just want to know what a guy I’ve never met thinks about me after just meeting me. Can’t you play along with me? Please?” she said.
“Well, he spotted you sitting alone at the bar and his tongue fell out of his mouth. He pointed you out to me. At first I thought I’d go over and act like I was picking you up and leave with you just to flip him out, but I decided I’d bring you over to meet him. It was a big risk, I thought, because he might figure out that we’re ‘together’. Little did I know that the real risk was that you’d fall for the schmuck,” I said. At that she pulled her gown up from the bottom and straddled my hips. Then she put her hands on my chest, leaning forward, and said, “You know that’s not true… about me ‘falling for him’… stick to the real story.”
“OK, Jackson. So, you did a good job of making it seem like we were just old friends. And you flirted endlessly, tirelessly, and shamelessly with him right under my nose because you knew I couldn’t say anything about it without blowing our cover. And, in the back of your mind, you figured I’d pay you back for it later,” I said.
She grinned and pinched both my nipples at the same time.
“Now how would you pay me back?” she said.
“The way I did. By being a ‘rough motherfucker’… which is what you were hoping for, you little slut,” I said.
She leaned back still straddling me, put her left hand between her legs, and slid her middle finger between her pussy lips. I loved seeing her use her left hand that way.
“So when you left he wanted to know if I was fucking you and when I assured him I wasn’t… he knew from you we had gone out years ago… he asked me if it was OK if he tried to nail you. Thought he'd like a bit of that stuff.” She was working her pussy a bit faster now.
“I told him to go for it... that you were a real hot fuck and that he should get you while you were in town… I didn’t know when you were leaving so he needed to get right on it... try to get some of that prime pussy tonight. And I told him that you were a total cockhound that loved to swallow cum. Made sure he knew that you would suck him off better than the best DC hotel in-call escort. Fuck, I thought he might cum in his pants just talking about how hot you looked. Guess he likes his little tramps in too-high heels, with nice round asses and big tits.” She grabbed her right breast with her right hand through the see-through gown and started to really work her soaking wet slit with her left. Her eyes were closed and she was working on her lower lip.

“He asked where you were staying. I told him to try The Mayflower… that you had told me once you liked to go there and pick up rich older guys and fuck and suck their brains out when you’re in town. He wondered what your name was and I told him your married name, Jacqueline Hunter. Told him you were a constantly horny little cocksucker that definitely needed a big, hard, dick tonight. I’m sure he called a dozen hotels trying to find that dirty little blond slut 'Jackie Hunter' tonight.” Her hips were rolling as she pinched and tugged her nipple and buried two fingers of her left hand into her cunt—working them in and out of her like the imagined lawyer’s cock. She put her middle and index fingers in as far as she could and I could see her diamond and gold wedding ring set pressed up against her pussy lips.
“Then I told him that I wanted to hear all about it tomorrow, Jackie… wanted to hear how Jackie Hunter sucked his balls dry… how you fucked him raw… told him I wanted to hear all of it… see if you’re still the dirty little blond slut you used to be back when I was fucking you… told him to tell me all about it… told him not to leave anything out about Jackie the slut…. then he took off to fuck you and I came up here and did you in the ass-- just like you wanted…” At about that point she let go and came furiously. She gasped, groaned loudly, and then leaned way back with her hands behind her on the bed and her face towards the ceiling.

“Hey, Jackie, I’m hard now. Turn around and get on me facing the door and ride my cock.”
She got on, her pussy was so wet I slid all the way into her immediately.
“Good girl. Now I’m going to spank that ass you filthy little whore. I can’t believe you wanted that pindick attorney more than me!” She couldn’t see that I was smiling as I smacked her right cheek with my open right hand.

Monday, December 1, 2008

On To Washington

I pulled her up to her feet and took her from the love seat over to the bed in her suite. I took the robe off her and pushed her naked body onto the bed face down. I followed onto her-- still fully dressed in jeans, boots and shirt. My left hand ran up the back of her left thigh, across her firm ass, her lower back, and then I found her left breast against the crisp sheets. My right was in her hair and I got my mouth close behind her left ear.
“I wasn’t the first boy to fuck you all those years ago, was I?” I said softly.
She moved her head slightly from side to side without saying anything.
“I wasn’t the first guy you ever sucked off, was I?”
Again she moved her head from side to side.
“That titty fuck last night wasn’t your first, was it…”
“No,” she said softly.
“How many men have fucked you in the ass, Jackie?”
“Nobody,” she said.
I pulled her head back just a bit.
“Tell the truth,” I said.
“Nobody has, Wil. My first husband wanted to but I wouldn’t let him. I’ve never wanted anybody to do that. I swear,” she said.
“Some day I will,” I said.
“I want it now, baby. Please…”
“Some day. But now I want something from you,” I said.
Within a few minutes she was on her knees on the floor of her hotel suite. Her hands were behind her back, bound by the hotel robe belt, and she was working my stiff cock with her mouth. To perfection. She always was an amazing little cocksucker.


Eleven days later I had been home for one weekend with my kids and was already back out on a coast-to-coast road trip. I had to be in Washington DC for a half day of productive business and a day and a half of dealing with outside counsel. This was a Capitol Hill- connected attorney who we used in DC. It was a dreary way to spend the bulk of the week, but I had one big thing to look forward to-- Jackie was supposed to fly in on Thursday afternoon, spend the night with me in Georgetown and then fly back home on Friday. It was our first attempt at this sort of rendezvous and it all had a kind of a "top secret espionage" feel to it. As I left the hotel Thursday morning I left an envelope at the concierge desk with a room key. Jackie knew to go to the concierge and ask for the envelope when she got in from Dulles. The charming concierge took the envelope with my instructions for who was to receive it with a warm smile and a “Certainly, Mr. Wilson. Is there anything else I can take care of for you today?” I assured her there was not and went to see the attorney.

Thursday afternoon dragged on in my meeting with the lawyer. At five I must have been checking the time too often and he suggested that we continue in the bar at my hotel. The stuff he still wanted to cover wasn’t confidential—just him trying to get a feel for some company dynamics from my perspective—who was up, who was down, who was heading out the door. Mainly he wanted free drinks on my expense account. Cheap jerk. The last thing I wanted was to have him hanging at the hotel with Jacqueline coming to town but I figured that, at least, I’d be in the right building.

I rode with him to my hotel since I had cabbed over to his nearby office in the morning. We went straight to the crowded bar. We had ordered a second drink and I was trying to figure out how to dust him off when he leaned over the table and said, “Don’t look now but there is an amazing blond babe at the bar checking us out.”
When the cocktail waitress brought us our second round I took the opportunity to look at the bar. There was indeed a petite, gorgeous, blond perched up high on the end bar stool. She was in a black suit with a skirt that was hiked up a bit due to the seating arrangement and she was showing lots of exceptional leg. Black stilettos and a black, slim, leather portfolio briefcase completed the look. She had a martini in front of her. She looked like a very successful lobbyist.

I looked at the attorney, James, and said, “The petite blond on the end?” he nodded, “I know her. Want to meet her?”
I walked over to the bar alone and said, “Since when do you drink martinis?”
“Since I got to this hotel. I’m so nervous I can’t breathe.”
“Thanks for coming. I guess you’ve been to the room,” I said, smiling.
“Yes, it’s incredible. I’m feeling more relaxed already now that you’re here,” she said.

“Don’t get too relaxed just yet. I’m over at that table with our outside counsel. C’mon over and meet the guy. He’s drooling for you already.”
“I know. I saw you guys. I figured you’d find me eventually. He’s not so bad, either. Probably about fifteen years older than me. Might be kinda fun.”
“Nice, Jackson. I deserved that. By the way, that outfit is stunning. And the briefcase must have cost more than my first car,” I said.
“Nah, but I’m sure these fucking shoes did,” she said, "I figured the briefcase would make me look less like a streetwalker."

I signed her tab to the room, gave the bartender a tip, and led her to the table. It all went well enough but soon I was dying to get her to the room. She was sitting next to me and across from Jim, charming him to death. Our legs were against each other as she talked away with him and I just about couldn’t stand it—being that close to her and not getting my hands on her. After about 30 minutes Jackie announced that she needed to go—she was in town for business according to her story—and needed to meet someone for dinner. Jim offered to give her a ride but she demurred. We stood as she left, she shook hands with Jim, and then gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek saying that it was good to see me again. And then she was gone from the bar and headed past the front desk and out the main doors.

“Fuck me!” said James.
“What?” I said.
“What? That’s the hottest thing that’s come through this place all year I’m sure. Shit, Wilson, did you really used to date her?”
“Yeah, when we were just out of high school. We stayed in touch over the years, ya know, she’s been married a couple times…and was raising a kid by herself...and”

“Level with me. Are you bangin’ that?” he said.
I wanted to wring his neck, knock his head off the wall a few times, and leave him in a pool of stinking lawyer blood, but I also didn’t want him telling everybody else in the company about how worked up I got defending Jackie’s honor over some locker room talk.
“Nah, we’re just friends. I didn’t even know she was in town on business. Small world. Anyway, you know, I’m an unhappily married man!”

“So you don’t mind if I take a run at her? I mean, holy fuck, she’s steaming hot, Wil. I don’t know how you can be so cool about her,” he said.
I thought to myself that I’m being cool about her because if I can get your ass out of here I’ll be in bed with her in about 30 minutes and won’t come up for air again until 7AM. But I said, “Be my guest, James. Jackie might be up for some fun with an older guy. You never know, I’ve had my share of younger women. She’s probably staying at the Mayflower.”

"Do you think those are real?" he said.


"Do you think those are real? That rack. Fuck, I mean she can't be five-two outta those fuckin' high heels... and she's got a set on her like that. Fuck! Can you imagine what those look like?"

"I can't imagine," I said.
“What’s her name again?” James asked.
“Jacqueline. Jacqueline Hunter,” I said.

"The Mayflower ya figure?"


When I got to the suite Jackie was waiting in the living room reading a magazine.
She looked exactly the same way she did in the lounge. 100% edible.
“Hi honey. I’m home. Anything happen today?” I said as I kissed her.
“Jacqueline Sampson! You’ve been drinking!”
“I only had three martinis. Just to relax me, baby. But I may have gotten a little too relaxed… I’m not used to drinking anything.”

She stood. A little wobbly in her million dollar fuck-me shoes. I took her into the bedroom. I undressed as she stood facing me. “Did you have a rough flight, Jackie?”
“It was OK. I had a drink on the plane. I was nervous.”
“Take your suit jacket off, sweet stuff,” I said as I walked into the bathroom, “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are you?”
“Never,” she said.

“Good. Bend over and put your hands on the edge of the bed then,” I said. She hadn’t seen what I had gotten from the bathroom.
“Man that ass looks good in that skirt, Jackie Sam. Almost a shame to take it off of you.” She looked over and grinned. I stood behind her, pulled her back to standing by taking her shoulders in my hands, and then undid her skirt in the back, unzipped it, and let it drop. She had thigh highs and panties on. I took the narrow part of her panties on the right side in both of my hands and tore the thin band apart. Then they fell down her left leg easily. I pressed her between the shoulder blades and she went back down to the bed with her hands stretched in front of her.
“Good girl. Put your feet farther apart now… that's good.”

I put a huge gob of lubricant from the bottle I had brought from the bathroom on her tight, puckered asshole. I slid my right thumb inside her and rotated my hand back and forth working her opening just a bit. She moaned and pressed herself farther down into the bed. I pulled my thumb out, put lube on my middle finger and slid it into her ass. I worked it in, turning it. With my left hand I smacked her left ass cheek. “Not too drunk to fuck in the ass, are you?”
“Fuck my ass, baby,” she said.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Jackie. I’ll give you an ass fucking if I want to. Maybe I’ll have that old lawyer you were flirting with in the bar take some of it too. He’d give me a grand for a shot at you, Jackie,” I said.
“Fuck me now you nasty bastard,” she said.
“Get up on the bed, slut. On your hands and knees like a good whore,” I said.
She did what I told her to do.

Once she was up on the bed I was able to get my hard cock over her upturned ass.
I covered my shaft in lube and put more all over her loosened hole. Then I slowly, but forcefully, worked the cockhead into her. She was very tight but once the ridge got through her ring it all fit in her smoothly. She was growling and grabbing at the pillow in front of her outstretched hand.
“FFFuuuucccckkkkkk…” she yelled into the mattress as I slowly slid my entire shaft into her. Once I was completely buried in her I cracked her right ass cheek hard with my open right hand.
“Who got your ass-fuck cherry, slut?” I said.
“You did baby. Ride my ass you fuckin’ bastard.” she screamed.
I smacked her left cheek. I drew out of her slowly and then pounded my cock all the way into her ass with a quick, smooth stroke. She groaned and I did it again. Over and over and over. I fucked her ass like a young, tight pussy.

I pulled out of her after I came and spread her ass cheeks apart after she had fallen over onto her side. I watched as my thick, white cream oozed out of her red, used asshole.

“Is that what you wanted, slut?”
She moaned in the affirmative.

Sunday, November 30, 2008


I drove from her luxurious hotel to my business motel mid-morning. I was pretty self-conscious wearing a rumpled shirt and suit that looked very out of place on a Saturday morning. It was like walking around in a big sandwich-board sign proclaiming that I’d been up all night engaged in some sort of sinful activity. Drunkenness, sloth, debauchery… something fun. Before leaving the suite I woke Jackie up enough to say I was going. She knew I was supposed to spend the day with my folks but she wanted to make sure I was coming back Saturday night. I assured her I would be over late that evening.

I took a long hot shower and then drove over to the house where I grew up. The strangest thing all day was that I knew that my parents would remember Jacqueline from all those years back and I knew they’d love seeing her too. But our reconnection was intelligence I couldn’t let anyone have. Not even them. It was too bad. I wanted to ask my mother if she’d ever seen signs for Sampson Realty, or a newspaper ad with Jackie’s glamour realtor shot, and realized who she was. But that would lead to a discussion that wouldn’t be productive. It really was too bad.

I got back to Jackie’s suite just after 10PM. I was wearing slightly less formal clothing than the night before—jeans, boots, a dark shirt. I knocked and she opened the door wearing a thick white hotel robe. She was carrying a book and wearing dark-framed reading glasses that made her look very studious. Despite the robe she wasn’t fresh from the shower—her make-up, hair, and perfume were flawless. I stepped inside the room and as the door closed we kissed. I loosened the belt of the robe and slipped my hands around her waist. She was warm, smooth and, as I soon found out through exploration, quite bare.

We walked into the bedroom of the suite and sat on a cushioned love seat, turned to face each other.
“Thanks for coming over,” she said.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said, “Did you have a good day?”
“Room service twice. Reading non-work stuff all day. A long shower with a million gallons of hot water. It was a great day, Wil.”
“I had a great night last night, Jackie.”
“Me too. It was pretty amazing,” she said.
I smiled like a dope. What is there really to say after that? There were about 99 ways that the night before could have been less great. And one chance in 100 that it would be like it was. I felt very fortunate. We kissed some more.


“I have an idea,” Jackie said.
“Oh? What is that?”
“I think you should get back together with your wife and kids… and dump your girlfriend,” she said.
“Whoa… what?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you, but I have to say that topic kind of comes under the general heading of ‘my business’ you know,” I said.
“Hear me out. I think it’s very important to you to be with your children. And, if that means you need to reconcile with her, you should. And the other part, about the girlfriend… you don’t see her enough anyway so it’s not good for your mental health… but, on the other hand, getting together with me every month or so would keep you very happy and productive,” she said.

I laughed out loud.
“You had way too much free time today, Jackson. But, I’ll give you this much… you might not be too far off about Kendra and me and the kids. As for Jane-- she has a name by the way-- I don’t have to ‘dump’ her. She’ll dump me…”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she’s about 15 years younger than me, extremely attractive, intelligent, five hundred miles away from me, and she isn’t going to wait forever for me to get a divorce, so…”
“Hold it. She’s that much younger than me… and you? She’s like… 30?!?” she said.
“Actually, she’s 29, so what?” I said.
“OK. I officially hate you now. Jeez, Wil! Twenty-nine?” she said.
“But, how are you and I going to get together every month?” I said.
“Don’t change the subject, Wilson! How old is Kendra? Does she know about the 29 year-old?” Jackie said with a kind of incredulous laugh.
“Kendra’s 38, and no she doesn’t,” I said.
“Another baby! 38! Gosh, Thanks for taking a night off for an older woman, Wil! Oh, and don’t count on Kendra not knowing, either, we usually do,” she said.

“Jackie, I don’t check ID’s. And there is no height requirement either, thank God, or I never would have met you! You're being silly. Plus, it really is my business, you know. But tell me about the way we’ll get together. I haven’t figured it out yet.”
She shook her head at me with a grin.
“You are awful. Cradle robber! And, I think it's a little bit my business since, oh about a day and a half ago. Anyway, what I was thinking was that you travel all the time. I’m my own boss. I could visit you whenever you’re within a couple hours flight of here. Not every time-- just when we both wanted to...but, now, I don’t know…" she said.

“Jacqueline, I think that’s a great idea. So, just for instance, I know I have to be in Washington DC for three days in two and a half weeks. Would you fly in there?”
“Would you really want me to come see you? I mean I kind of suggested it and all…” she said.
“Yeah! I think it would be great. We could pick up where we’re going to leave off tonight.” I said.
“Where are you staying in DC, do you know yet?”
“Georgetown. Why?”
“Just wondering if it will be a nice enough place for me to bother with-- at my age I expect luxury accommodations, you know," she said with a big smile, "What do you mean by 'where we’re going to leave off tonight?'”

I opened her robe up and gently pushed her back down on the couch. I kissed my way down from her lips to her breasts, across her tummy and down to her pussy. I did what I like to do there, and after several minutes she was extremely wet and her hands were tangled in my hair. I looked up to see her arch her back so far that her head, on the arm of the love seat, was tilted back-- her face looking away from me. I ran my hands over her soft skin to her breasts as I ate away at her wet slit. Her skin felt moist… she was warm… she panted and moaned. And then, just before my tongue wore out, she went limp.

A couple of minutes later she said softly, “Take it tonight.”
I looked at her not fully understanding what she meant.
“Please. But use lots of lube, OK.”

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Lube What?

“Ya know, there are lots of reasons for me to pack lube for this little trip that don’t involve, um, anal sex,” Jackie said.
“Really? Like what?” I said.
“Well… like maybe I thought you would chicken out like a little weenie, not show up at the bar yesterday, and it would just be me, a stack of books and magazines, and my vibrator all weekend and I would need a little help.”
“Not buyin’ it. Try again.”
“But that’s the truth!” *sigh* “OK, what if I’ve been having problems with dryness, didn’t want to disappoint you by being both extremely tight *big smile* and not very, er, slippery… so I bought some lubricant just to make sure you had the best possible time this weekend.”
“I like that one better. But I still don’t believe it’s the real story.”

“Hmmm… OK. I kept thinking about you and remembering how fucking huge you are, and I was thinking there’s no way I can get all of that cock inside me without help. So… I bought some lube hoping against hope that it would allow me to receive every inch of your massive dick in my tiny little pussy. Better?” she said.
“No. Implausible and ridiculous. Although, I drove past the house where I lived in my senior year in college one day last year. I hadn’t seen the place in 20 years and it looked half as big as I remembered it being. So I understand how you might…”
“Just think how disappointed I was when you took your pants off last night, Wil.”
“Poor baby,” I said, “But try again.”

“OK. Every one of those has some truth in it. I did think you might not show up—although I really expected that you would. I have been having a little problem with not being able to get very wet…”
“I saw no evidence of that in the past few hours…” I said.
“No shit! I think maybe I wasn’t the problem. And I know for sure you aren’t,” she said, “ and, just for the record, you are the exact same size I remembered you were.”
“That’s too bad. But, you weren’t finished with your reasons for bringing lubricant on our date...” I said.

“Well, the thing I really thought of most when I packed it was something else, and it didn’t involve anal sex. Although... that is an interesting idea. *grin* But what I really thought… what I hoped for… well, was that you would really love the way I look now and that you would want to…”
“Want to what?” I asked.
She sat up on the bed, put her hands inside the shirt of mine that she barely had on, took her breasts in her hands and pushed them up and together. Then she looked down, bent her head as far down as she could and ran the tip of her tongue on her right nipple. Then she looked at me, tilted her head slightly, and smiled.

“You called the right guy, Jackie. But take that shirt off, I have to wear that again in a few hours,” I said.
I rolled over, opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled out the bottle of lube. When I rolled back over Jackie was naked, sitting up, and leaning to the side on her left hand.
“Baby, if I’m going to give you a proper titty-fucking you’re going to have to get me hard again,” I said.
She shifted her weight so her legs were under her and she was sitting on her heels. She reached over and took my balls in her right hand and my soft cock in her left. She slowly stroked me and said, “Does this help?”

A guy, anticipating a sexual encounter, is sometimes worried about the possibility of cumming too soon to the disappointment of everyone involved. That can be a concern—especially when you’re young. When you’re much older, like say, oh I dunno, 55, the chance of no erection can enter your mind. Not that that has ever happened to me, of course! But that night with Jackie was one of those rare times when something else entirely happened. You see, there are times when you get hard, and you know right away that the possibility of you actually being brought to climax anytime in the next few hours is remote. It’s a totally different feeling—it has nothing to do with desire—you just can’t cum and you know it. Like I said, it’s rare. At least for me it is—for a porn star I guess it’s all in a day’s work-- but not for me. I knew, right away, as Jackie stroked my cock that I wouldn’t cum again. But I would get hard again. So, it seemed a shame to waste that on just a titty fuck… these times don’t show up very often, you know... you have to make hay while the sun shines.

Once I was hard I grabbed the lube and handed it to her. “Cover my cock with it,” I said. She held it a foot over my groin and drizzled a healthy quantity all over my erect member. Jackie faced me straddling my legs and started to bend herself down to it as if to put me in the valley between her tits. I stopped her by getting her by the hair with my left hand.
“Not yet. Get up on it,” I said.
Jackie moved farther up on me, got up on her knees, and straddled my hips. She reached down between her legs, held my stiff prick, and slowly lowered herself onto me. There was so much lube and pussy juice it made a kind of squishing sound as she slid me into her. When she stopped sliding it in I bounced my hips up so she was completely filled and then let her do the rest. She rode my cock for so long I thought she would need oxygen. It was a sight to behold. And that's exactly what I did-- stayed hard, didn't cum, and let her ride me like a pony. Her hair bouncing, her tits bouncing, and relentless verbal accompaniment. Oh, I helped out a bit, but basically it was her show. It was 5 stars in my book.

“Turn around the other way without letting me out of your pussy,” I said.
She did it. The view was terrific as she put some of her weight forward on her hands and worked her cunt furiously on my cock. She had found just the angle she needed and was screaming as she sawed my cock in and out of her at a pace I couldn't maintain on steroids. She went through a wall into some animal zone. It was incredible and memorable.

Finally she was exhausted. She leaned back. She put her left hand back on the bed beside me and with her right hand she held the head of my cock inside her pussy lips.
“Fuck, Wil… I’ve lost count…”
I laughed softly and pulled my ass back so my cock popped out of her and I sat with my back against pillows and headboard. She moved her legs in front of her and fell back against me—her back on my chest—a position I remembered from many years ago. Her head was on my left shoulder. I reached around her and held her left breast firmly in my left hand. Then I brought my right hand up swiftly from below and gave her a glancing smack across the aureole and nipple. I did that a few more times and she gasped slightly with each contact.

“I’m sorry I didn’t pay the proper attention to your nice firm tits earlier, Jackie. It was a horrible oversight on my part. I hope you can forgive me. There was just so much to do… so many ways to fuck and suck and eat and… but I’ll give them some attention now,” I said.
I took her right breast then and gave it the same light slapping the other had received. Symmetry seemed important. The blood had come up to the surface-- she was flushed.
“I love the way you’ve grown up, Jackie. You were beautiful years ago but so much more so now…” I leaned forward with her against me and got hold of the lube. I leaned back and she fell back against me limply. All I heard from her was a very quiet moan that sounded like satisfaction. I squirted generous quantities of the lubricant all over both of her tits until she was glazed like a Krispy Kreme. Placing the bottle to the side I handled her slick tits with both hands.
“Is that what you wanted to use that stuff for, Jackie?”
She nodded and made a small “mmmm” sound.

I got out from behind her and her head fell to the pillows. I stepped off the bed, got her by the ankles, and jerked her half way down the bed in one move. I got back on the bed and straddled her chest. I moved down so that my cock was between her lube-soaked tits. Picking up the lube bottle I squeezed half of its remaining contents onto the cock and tits below. Then I put my left hand next to her head, palm against her right ear and ran my fingers up into her hair and held her tightly. My right hand went around her neck and pressed up into her jaw firmly— there was no pressure on her throat.
“Squeeze those big tits around me,” I growled.
She did. I fucked her beautiful tits for as long as I could. When I was completely worn out I let her think I’d cum. She was so covered in lube and dizzy from riding me to exhaustion that she never really knew I hadn’t shot my load on her.

We locked ourselves together, face to face on our sides in the big bed and she smiled and went to sleep. I think she was content.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008


I woke up alone in the huge bed in Jackie’s hotel suite. It was after 3AM and I had been asleep for just a little while. I was just starting to wonder what happened to her when she came into the room from the bathroom. I thought she was wearing the shirt I had taken off many hours ago but there wasn’t enough light in the room to tell for sure. She slid into bed.

“I fell asleep,” I said.
“I know… did I wear you out, sweetie?”
“I’m out of practice, sorry,” I said.
Sorry? This has been a great night… don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it has been great. I hope it isn’t over yet.”
I pulled her in to me. I was on my right side, she on her left.
“Another costume change I see…”
“Well, the funny thing about all those sexy corsets, thongs, and things, Wil, is that they’re really uncomfortable… so I put on something that looked easier to sleep in… just something I found around here…” she said.
“You’re not wearing it right,” I said as I unbuttoned the shirt three more buttons so it was held together by just the bottom two buttons, “there, that’s better.”

“Question time,” she said.
“Do we have to?” I said.
“Yes. But you’ll get to ask questions too.”
“OK, I guess.”
“Good. Alright, you’re separated from your wife Kendra but not divorced. You have a ‘girlfriend’ who you never see… or at least not very often… so, how did all of this happen?” Jackie asked.
I gave her the Reader’s Digest version over the next few minutes.
“Hmm. I don’t like that story very much. Not very satisfying,” she said, “But I guess you get a question now.”

“OK. Why did you dump me back twenty-four and half years ago?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” she said, “Now, my turn again.”
Whoa! What do you mean you didn’t?”
“I didn’t. I was very uncomfortable that whole time I came to see you. I thought everybody around you thought I was this idiot from the sticks. I was uneasy and I didn’t like seeing you there… I wanted you back home with me… but that couldn’t happen and, well, it was horrible for me and so I kind of pulled back from you that weekend… and then you sent me a letter that made it sound like I was trying to get rid of you or something and I didn’t know what to do… so I did nothing. I was a different person then… the way I am now I would have called you and given you an earful… but I didn’t have much confidence then and so… I gave up… But I DID NOT dump you. I loved you.”

I was quiet for a while thinking about how different our lives would have been and how such enormous changes in two lives could hinge on one small event or even a misunderstanding. She was quiet too.

“My turn,” she said, “What made you think you could tie my wrists together and bend me over and smack my ass without me telling you to get the hell out of here?” She asked the question with a smile in her voice, thankfully.

“Well, OK, the night we talked on the phone… you were at a gas station… when I told you I’d come see you… like you wanted me to… you happily said that I was a ‘mean bastard’ and also that you ‘could count on me’. I thought about that a lot. I know I was never really mean to you so I thought that you had used, kind of, the wrong word to express what you really meant... plus the fact that you said you could count on me was big. So I finally decided that what you meant by ‘mean’ was more like rough… demanding… taking what I wanted… not mean as in cruel to you. And, well, yeah, that would be me, I could do that in a way you could count on," I said, "
So there was that, and then the other part was that when I first saw you in the bar downstairs I thought about how much I would enjoy bending you over, spanking your nice round ass and fucking you hard from behind.”

“I see,” she said, grinning.
“So, I took a little risk,” I said.
“A calculated risk,” she said.
“Not much of a risk really.”
“No. Not really that much of a risk. Wil, this is exactly why I e-mailed you. I’m married to a great guy… I was unmarried for a long time, you know, after divorcing my daughter’s father… and when I was almost forty I got kinda panic-stricken about getting old without anyone. Well, anyway, he’s great, and I would never leave him, but… he asks me too much,” she said.

“Asks you?” I said.
“This is tough to explain. I run my own business, I built the thing pretty much from scratch, I spend the whole day making decisions and answering everybody’s questions and… I don’t know how to put this correctly, but I like someone else to be in charge for at least a few minutes every day. I don’t want anybody running my life… but I just want some time every so often where I am not in charge of every fucking thing. You know?” she said.
“I know what you’re saying, but I don’t know the feeling personally,” I said.
“Well, it’s a fine line, ya know, so I got to my mid-forties and I didn’t regret getting married a few years earlier. It was a smart decision and all… but I started to worry that I would never feel a certain way again… and, well, I actually thought about having an affair but I was worried about it and how I might screw up my business… I don’t know… I’m a chicken about that and I also didn’t know who I could even have an affair with,” she laughed, “and then I saw a story about you in the newspaper… with a picture… and I thought…”

What newspaper story?” I said.
“There was this thing in your hometown paper about your promotion or something. I advertise in those little papers so I was looking at it to see if they ran my ad right and your name jumped off the page… the picture was alright, too,” she said with a smile.

“Oh.” It was true that our public relations people put out press releases for the trade mags when company executives got promoted and they also sent them to other general papers—they ask for a list. I had given them the name of my hometown weekly but didn’t know they had run it.

“I’ll have to remember to thank the guys in press relations,” I said, “ But I’ll probably leave out the part about fucking you in the ass.”
“Excuse me!? You haven’t done anything of the sort,” she said.
“I know, Jackie, but why exactly did you bring the lube I saw in the drawer when you made me get a condom?”

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Now Where's That Robe?

While drying off from my quick shower I looked around the bathroom for a robe. Under a pile of Jackie’s jeans and shirts I found a heavy white terrycloth number with the hotel’s logo emblazoned on the left breast. Looking so very classy I exited the steamy room and went back into the bedroom. There was no Jackie to be seen. It was a good-sized room but not so large that I could have lost an adult woman in there. Just then she came in from the living room part of the suite. She was wearing a dark purple corset with matching thong. She had a sheer, see-through, short, matching cover-up over that and a pair of platform shoes that I don’t think she would ever wear outside of the bedroom.

Oh! That was a quick shower!” she said. She clearly didn’t expect me to be out of the bathroom yet.

“Um… damn… that’s quite an outfit…” I stammered with my usual eloquence.

“You like? It’s kind of over-the top… it seemed like a good idea when I got it but now… I dunno…”

“Are you kidding? It’s fantastic. I love it,” I said.

“I went out and got it the day after you said you’d come see me,” she said as she walked to me, “I wanted something special for the first time we got together. But then you just had to take me in my clothes, tie me up, and ruin everything!”

We kissed. Deeply and for a long time.

“Wait right here,” she said.

She tottered into the bathroom on her come-fuck-me heels and came out a few minutes later. Since I had been in there taking a shower she hadn’t been able to freshen up her makeup, lipstick, and perfume. She looked damn good when she went into the bathroom but she looked even better when she came out. And she smelled delicious too. I don’t know anything about scents other than that I don’t like flowery perfumes. She did not smell floral when she returned—more fresh and, um, spicy I would say. She grabbed my hand and walked me towards a couch across from the bed. She pushed me to sit down on the couch. Then she walked away from me a few steps, turned and faced me.

“Do you really like what you see, Wil?” she said.

“A little bit, I guess,” I said, “Maybe just a little. Better turn around again and let me double check.”

She did.

“A bit more than a little, I think,” I said as I undid the belt of the robe and opened it up slightly.

“Hmmm. Yep, just a little bit I see,” Jackie said.

She walked to me and knelt down between my legs. She placed her hands on top of my thighs and looked straight into my eyes. Without looking down for a second she moved her face towards my hard cock, opened her mouth, and took me between her lips. She slid my shaft in a bit and turned her head slightly so I could see the head of my cock push her cheek out as she moved back and forth on it. I moaned. And that sound was the only signal she needed to proceed to suck my cock in a way that made me nearly pass out.

It’s often said in locker rooms and sporting lodges across the world that even a bad blowjob is great and I won’t disagree. But the distance between the bad/great blowjob and oral sex given by someone who totally loves doing it is from here to eternity. For me it isn’t necessarily about deep-throating or vigorous stroking as much as it is about touch. Touch from fingers, lips and tongue. And connection. The eye contact, the sounds, even the scents that make it so intimate and connecting. And location. The frenulum, the underside of the shaft's first inch or so behind the head, responding to the perfect touch in an explosive way. I tell you nothing you don’t know, of course, whether you are a receiver or giver— but I tell you just to explain that Jacqueline knew exactly what to do. And, having brought me to climax, she took every drop. Then she opened her mouth to prove what a good little cocksucker she was; her tongue covered in thick, white cream.

Afterwards we snuggled together on the couch. I fully appreciated her wardrobe choice and told her so. After about 20 minutes I decided it was time to repay Jackie for her expert oral talents. I positioned her on the couch and slid her tiny thong off. It was not lost on me that there had been great changes in the standards for female grooming in the intervening 24 years. It was an advancement I was all in favor of as I kissed her inner thighs and slipped a finger into her slick pussy. I ran my tongue along every centimeter of her outer lips for quite some time, savoring her taste. By then a second finger went in easily. She seemed to enjoy it when I twisted those two fingers inside her. I flattened my tongue onto her clit and moved my head in a circular motion as I drew the fingertips deep inside her towards me. I must have hit a spot as wonderful to her as my frenulum is to me. Her voice became guttural, a husky groaning came from her, and there was more wetness and taste on my tongue. She got her hands in my hair and pulled me even harder into her as I worked my fingers relentlessly inside her hot, wet cunt. I could hear her breath, almost a panting now.
I could feel her fuck-me shoes digging into my back like spurs as she groaned, “Gawd, make me your whore… fuck me hard, baby.”

And so, I did.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

From Behind

I got my shoes, socks, suit, shirt and boxers off. As I stood naked looking at Jackie bending over silent at the foot of the bed, my erect cock was like a compass needle pointing to the True North of her ass. I walked to the bed. She had positioned herself not in the middle but rather at the right side of the foot of the bed when she bent over. I walked to the side of the bed. She turned to look at me. Our eyes met. Then she looked at my cock. I checked her bound wrists—I didn’t want her tied so tightly that her circulation would be cut off. She was fine. I took her by the hair with my right hand and turned her head so she was no longer staring at my cock-- it made me self conscious as I'm very shy. I shook her head gently and then ran my hand down her back. She looked so good and her skin was so smooth and soft.

“Pull back so you’re up on your elbows,” I said. She pulled her arms back a bit on the bed until she was resting on her elbows. By doing this her breasts were lifted off the bed. I reached for her right breast and took it in my hand. Her tits were bigger than I thought when we were sitting in the bar. She was a good bit larger than she was the last time I saw her, back when she was a skinny girl in her 20’s. Still standing at the side of the bed I took her hair in my left hand and pulled her head back firmly. With my right hand I caressed, bounced, and jiggled her right breast-- and then slapped it gently from the side before taking her nipple and rolling it between my index finger and thumb. Her nipple was big and firm now. I put the middle finger of my right hand to her lips. She turned to it and took it in her mouth and sucked it. Then I pulled my finger out, tossed her head back down towards the bed and stepped behind her.

I gave her left ass cheek a smack with my open left hand on her taut, light gray, skirt. I thought about unbuttoning and unzipping her skirt to drop it to the floor. There was a belt, more decorative than functional, and rather than fool with that I pulled her up to standing, reached down to the hem, and pulled her skirt up over her round ass. I pushed it up to her waist. She had lace-top thigh-highs on with her high heels. Her lace panties could be pulled to the side but I had once gotten a horrible friction burn on the left side of my cock from a pair of panties that wouldn’t stay to the side—so I pulled them to the floor and told her to step out of them. She did.

“Good girl. Now put your feet apart and bend all the way over again baby,” I said as I pressed her back between the shoulder blades . As she went forward she said softly, “Wil, in the drawer of the nightstand… OK?” I went over and opened the drawer. There was a silver vibrator, a pack of condoms, and a bottle of lube. It was the first time we would fuck in the 90’s. We used to fuck in the Golden Age of Fucking: after the pill, and before AIDS. I rolled a Durex onto my stiff cock as I stepped back behind her. I ran my hand between her legs from behind. She was soaking wet. I reached forward with my other hand and ran it down her spine from neck to ass—not palm down but palm up so my nails didn’t dig into her but rather stroked firmly across her soft, pale flesh. She got chill bumps all over and I saw her shiver. I plunged my entire length into her in one long, slow stroke.

I would like to tell you that I fucked her from behind for twenty minutes, took a break and went out to smoke a fine Cohiba on the balcony, returned and gave her another half hour of solid cocking. But that would be so unlike what actually happened. As it turned out I was damn glad to have the condom on. The desensitizing effect probably kept me from cumming too fast. Frankly, the entire scene was so amazing, so exciting, that I had to concentrate hard on making it last. We did get into a good rhythm though and she was quite exuberant in her vocalized joy. She always was a chatterbox.
Eventually we got down to the short, hard strokes. With each thrust I held myself in her as far as I could get. Each time I held deep in her pussy she flexed her knees alternately so her ass would twist around the axis of my shaft. She ground herself that way against me. It felt incredible. Finally, on one long, solid thrust everything in my balls broke loose as she twisted against me. I came hard inside her while pressing my hands down on the small of her back. “Fuuccckkkkkk…….” she yelled out, loud enough to stop traffic on the street below. Or so it seemed at the time.

I pulled out, took her by the waist, and threw her forward on the bed. I popped her heels off and followed her onto the bed. I untied her wrists and got us both under the covers. We were face to face—Jackie on her left side and me on my right. I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her in. She began to kiss me all over my chest and ran her tongue over me. About an hour passed with us saying very little, just holding each other close.

We were both ready for more.
Jackie said, “Baby, would you mind rinsing off in the shower?”

“No. But why, do I smell that bad?”

“Nooooo,” she said.

I looked at her still waiting for more of an answer.

“I want to put on something I brought to wear… so you take a quick shower while I do that, alright… and… well… I really want to suck your cock but I want you to get the, ya know, rubbery smell off of it… OK?” she said sheepishly.

I laughed. “Sounds great to me, Jacqueline. Especially the part about a special outfit.”
I hopped out of bed and went to the bathroom. As soon as I walked in I started laughing. Every flat space in the bathroom had something on it, cosmetics, deodorant, hair products, perfumes, and on and on. Every hook had clothes hanging off of it. The floor had jeans and t-shirts piled on it. It looked just like her bedroom back in Beth’s house all those years ago—except the clothes, makeup and bathroom fixtures were far more expensive now.

“What are you laughing at now?” she yelled.

“You, sweetheart. I’m laughing at you! How long have you been here, a week?” I said.

"Noooo... I checked in last night. Why?" she said as I turned the water on.

I hopped in the shower wondering just what she would be wearing when I got back to the bedroom.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Reunion Night

My first impression was that Jackie was no longer the skinny young girl of twenty-four years ago. She now had curves. At first glance they appeared to be very nice curves. She wasn’t fat, nobody would even call her chunky—but she was more, um, well-rounded. She was dressed and groomed beautifully. Frankly, the professional business woman look is incredibly alluring when done well and Jacqueline was doing it very well indeed. She was still 5’3”, of course, but I thought she looked a good bit taller. I realized that she always wore flip-flops or flats in the old days. In her business pumps she was taking it to new heights; 5’ 6” or so.

We sat across from each other and started talking about a million things. She ordered a Diet Coke from Cyndy—years of living with her alcoholic mother had caused her to stay away from liquor. I switched to club soda and lime. Our children were a big topic of course. It’s always that way with parents, no matter the setting. Her business… my work… managing sales people… all were discussed. About the only thing we avoided in an hour of conversation was any talk of our marriages. Jackie excused herself for a trip to the ladies’ room and our waitress sped over.

“How’s it going, Wil?” Cyndy asked.

“Great. Even better than I hoped,” I said.

“No kidding? ‘Cause you two look like you’re on your honeymoon!” Cyndy said, grinning.

“Is it that obvious?” I said.

“Uhhh… yeahhhh!” she said.

When Jackie returned I stood up and had her slide in on my side of the table. As soon as I sat back down my left hand found her right hand under the table and we laced our fingers together. We talked for another few minutes and then Jackie said, “Would you like to go get something to eat?”

“Sure,” I said, and signaled for the check. As Cyndy came back with the receipt and my credit card she said, “Have a great time at the reunion you two.”

We left the bar and headed into the lobby area of the hotel. “Reunion?” Jackie said.

“I told her when I first got there that I was waiting for a woman I hadn’t seen in almost twenty-five years. So, she knew it was a ‘reunion’ of sorts,” I said.

“I like that idea. A reunion. Crazy things can happen at high school reunions I hear,” Jackie said with a slight smile.

She walked to the elevator and pressed the up button. I figured they must have a restaurant at the top of the hotel. The doors opened, we entered and were alone in the elevator as the doors closed. She turned to me and I opened my arms. She tilted her head up as I drew her to me and we kissed until there was a ‘ding’ and the doors opened at the floor she had selected. We headed down the hall holding hands. It looked like a normal hotel hallway-- not a public space with a restaurant. We got to the end of the hall and stopped at a door. Jackie pulled a card key from her suit jacket pocket and slid it into the lock. The light turned green and she stepped into the room. I followed her into what was a mini-suite. The spring-loaded door closed loudly behind us. Before she could turn around I put both hands on her waist just above the hips. I held her firmly and stepped close to her so her round bottom was against me. She said nothing as I slipped her jacket off and tossed it to a chair to the right of where we stood in the living room of the suite.

My hands returned to her hips but soon found their way up to her breasts. The fabric of her blouse was silk-like and a very pale pink or rose color. I could feel the lace of her bra through it. She leaned back into me and rested her head against my left shoulder. I unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it down off her shoulders and arms and let it fall to the floor. I unhooked her bra and dropped it onto the blouse. My hands cupped her breasts. I tugged at her erect nipples. And then I said, “Put your hands above your head as far as you can reach, Jackie.”

She didn’t ask why. She put her hands up high. “Put your palms together,” I said as I took my tie off.

With her arms stretched high and her palms together I took my tie and bound her wrists together.
Jackie was naked from the waist up except for a thin chain necklace and earrings. I stepped from behind her and pulled her hands down in front of her with the tie. I stepped forward and pushed open the double doors into the bedroom of the suite. It was cool and relatively dark with the blackout shades pulled and the bed turned down. I tugged gently on the tie and Jackie followed me into the room. I closed the bedroom doors and moved back behind her.

“Now walk over to the bed. Stand at the foot with your high heels together and bend over slowly until your hands are on the bed,” I said.

She did just that. The view of her ass in the skirt of her business suit was spectacular.

“Good girl, “ I said as I began to take off my clothes, “Now don’t move an inch.”

Monday, October 13, 2008

The Class Reunion

I was in my room at the hotel on W. 54th Street in New York when my cell rang.

“Wilson here,” I said.

“You are crazy! What was all that stuff about nude pictures of me? I had everybody coming in here for an end-of-day meeting and you dropped that story on me! Damn, Wil. Maybe I should have sent you a picture so you wouldn’t be making up stuff,” Jackie said, laughing.

“Probably a good thing you didn’t. My fantasies are already in overdrive,” I said.

We talked for a bit, she told me where to meet her at 4:30 PM Friday-- a bar attached to a restaurant in the city near where we both grew up. It was in a new hotel I had never seen. She said they were supposed to have a good crowd after work on Fridays. That sounded fine to me. It might be best if we weren’t meeting in a quiet, subdued place.


I got to my parent’s house on Thursday night. I had checked into a Holiday Inn out by the interstate before going over to see them. We stayed up late talking about family stuff. The next day I went back over to the house in the morning and spent time with them until mid-afternoon when I headed back to the motel. I told my parents that I was going to take a nap—jet-lagged as I was—and then go out with some old college pals for dinner. I’d see the folks again on Saturday.

Since Jackie was coming straight from work I decided I shouldn’t be under dressed. She had her own real estate office, so chances were pretty good she’d be in business clothes. I put on a dark blue suit I had brought for a meeting on Avenue of the Americas in New York back on Tuesday. Normally I didn’t need to dress like this for business. But I wanted Jackie to be comfortable… I didn’t want to look like… well, hell, I looked pretty good in that suit. So, why not wear it? I checked the mirror on the way out the door. A new pale blue shirt and a dark silk tie. Shoes shined. If she showed up in jeans I'd feel like a complete dope.

I got to the bar early; 4 PM and it was about a third full. I found a table near the back where I could see the entrance off the hotel lobby clearly. Hell, I didn’t know what Jacqueline Sampson even looked like these days. Who was I even looking for?

The waitress came by, “Hi! I’m Cindy, I’ll be serving you tonight, what can I get for you?”

I looked up at an adorable olive-skinned creature of about 21. Her name tag said, “Cyndy.” How cute.

“Well Cyndy with two *y’s*, I’m Wil and I will be purchasing cocktails from you this evening. I’ll start with a Sapphire and tonic,” I said.

“Great, Wil! Is someone else going to be joining you, or are you on the prowl tonight like most of the people that will be showing up here in the next few hours?” Cyndy asked.

“I’m here for a reunion, Cyndy, with a lady I haven’t seen in nearly 25 years. I haven’t seen even so much as a picture of her since the early 70’s,” I said.

Wil! That’s so cool! When is she supposed to be here?” she said.

“Soon. And I’m nervous. I need that drink,” I said with a laugh.

“Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!” Cyndy grinned and went to the bar. Good Lord she was cute. In every way possible. Ah, sweet bird of youth.

I was on my second drink and it was close to 4:30. I had begun to size up everyone who came through the door for “could-that-be-Jacqueline?” potential. There was a steady stream of talent arriving. Cyndy came by every now and then to check on me. She simply loved the idea of our reunion and acted like she was on “the inside” of a secret deal. I gave her a little background, and I started to think she was as excited about our reunion as I was. Well, almost. Frankly, I wasn't this nervous on prom night.

I didn’t think Jackie would be coming in with a group, so when 3 or 4 women would come in together I’d look at them, some were quite attractive, but figured none were Ms. Sampson. The place was filling up. I was glad I’d dressed in a suit as this was definitely a downtown office worker crowd. But they looked to be mostly in their twenties and thirties—a bit younger than me. Cyndy kept my spirits up when it was 4:45 and there was still no sign of Jackie. “Another G&T, Wil?” she asked.

“Nah. I’ll just chew on some ice in frustration for a while, thanks, I don’t want to get drunk,” I said, “at least not yet.”

Cyndy put her hand on my arm, “Relax. She’ll be here. She’s probably so nervous about seeing you she can’t even remember where this place is. I know I would be all keyed up. Just sit back and watch the crowd. She’ll get here and you’ll forget she was late as soon as you see her!”

While young Cyndy was telling me to remain calm, I halfway noticed a platinum blond, seemingly about 35, in a light gray suit and pale pink blouse walk up behind her. I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was stopping just behind my adorable waitress.

“Wil? Is that you?” the blond in the tailored gray suit and killer high heels said.

Cyndy stepped back from the table and I stood up. “Jackie? Is that you?”

She nodded with a huge smile. I threw my arms around her, we hugged, and kissed each other on the cheek. My waitress had backed up ten feet or so and she caught my eye as I looked over Jackie’s shoulder. Cyndy stuck both thumbs in the air, did a sort of touchdown dance, and mouthed the word “Yessssss!”

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Traveling Time

Saturday night and I was going to bed after taking the kids back to my house-- the house I didn’t live in anymore. Since I was flying to the East Coast mid-morning on Sunday I only had the kids for 24 hours this weekend. My clothes were packed so I would only need to throw together the last of my work stuff before the car for LAX arrived at 8 AM. I crawled into bed and called Jane. Thank God, she was home. I didn’t like calling her on a Saturday night. If nobody answered I wondered if she was out with some guy. We talked for an hour or more. Around midnight I told her I’d call her from the road over the next two weeks. I didn’t need to tell her that, she knew I would. But really, what difference did it really make if I was on the road or home? She was in the Bay Area and I was an hour plane ride away even when I was home. The only difference between calling her from Southern California and calling her from the hotel in Manhattan was the time difference. What a fucked-up deal. After a good-bye that took fifteen minutes I hung up and went to sleep.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing bitch? You’re dressed like a filthy whore… you wanna look like a whore then be a fuckin’ whore you dirty bitch… get on your knees, put your head on that pillow, and reach back and spread your ass cheeks… yeah, that’s a good slut… now hold still while I lube your tight little puckered hole… good girl… now take your hard ass-fuckin’ … that’s it baby, scream for it….......... now take that load all over your pretty face… lick it all up, bitch………………………

I gained consciousness slowly. I looked for the magazine with Jackie as the centerfold model. I had just seen it. I had just seen her in a glossy magazine layout. It was Jackie, except she wasn’t 20 like I remembered her. She was in her 40’s. She still looked great and her ass was in the air. I tried to remember what had happened. I was going to fuck her in the ass, but I never did. I was shooting cum on her face—or rather a picture of her face. In a magazine—Playboy? Penthouse? Hustler? But there wasn’t any stroke book in the bed. It had been a dream, right? In it she was real but she was also a picture. Pictures, plural. A whole layout in all sorts of poses. Dressed for fucking. But there was no magazine anywhere in the bed. There was a ton of cum though. I sat up in the dark, the only light in the room was from the streetlight just outside my townhouse.
Awake finally. I felt sticky, thick cum all over my stomach and on the boxers I had worn to bed. A huge wet spot on the bed too. Fuck, what a mess. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a wet dream. When I was getting regular pussy I never had nocturnal emissions. Hell, these days, with no pussy, I jerked off enough to keep this mess from happening. What the hell? I took the boxers off, wiped everything up as much as possible with them, tossed them on the floor and got on the dry side of the bed. Nothing to do about it now. Back to sleep.

The alarm sounded. I stripped the bed and threw the sheets and crusty boxers in the washer and started it up, the coffee maker was next, then I shaved, and showered. I thought of having awakened in the middle of the night covered in jizz. I remembered the first time I ejaculated. It was the summer I turned 12-- or was it 13. A summer day-- the family had just gotten home from church. I changed out of my Sunday school clothes and into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I went out to the living room. My dad was in his chair reading the Sunday paper. Mom was in the kitchen—we always had a big lunch after church and then nothing but sandwiches or soup for dinner on Sunday nights. Mom said it was her half day of rest a week. My sister was probably in her room studying her Bible. She took Sunday school and church pretty seriously.

I took the comics from my dad’s “read” pile. I flopped on the couch face down so my head hung off the cushion and I put the comic pages on the floor and started to read. Read ‘em all, except Prince Valiant. P.V. seemed almost like school work, not the funnies. Peanuts, B.C., Blondie. That Dagwood was one lucky guy—Blondie was stacked, and she dressed nice for an old lady. Apartment 3G— I didn’t completely get the appeal of that one. Three girls in an apartment dating a series of dorks? Big deal. Then I saw Li'l Abner. It so happened that Daisy Mae was prominently featured that day. I was reading the strip, looking at Daisy and it just happened. I got a boner. I, seriously, did not really know the connection between Daisy’s huge tits, round ass, shapely legs and my hard dick. And then, suddenly, I was afraid I was wetting myself. I was not a bed-wetter! what the heck was happening? It scared me. I had taken a leak when I got home from church, so what was going on here? And then it was done. My penis started to get normal again. I kind of rolled over a bit and saw this big dark wet spot on the shorts I had just changed into. Jeez! Worse yet there was a wet spot the size of a silver dollar on the couch! Nobody had seen anything though. I got up off the couch and quickly went in and put on a pair of clean underwear and a fresh pair of pants.

Daisy Mae got my cherry. You know, it served Li'l Abner right—he treated her like she wasn’t even there. One of the running gags in the strip was that she was this incredibly sexy babe and he was too big an idiot to pay attention to her. She chased after him and he ran as fast as he could. He avoided her advances and her attempts to get hitched because that’s what guys and gals did… or something. The natural order of things I guessed. Comedians on Ed Sullivan always told jokes about wives as nagging shrews and spoilers of male fun. So, it all seemed to fit. Lots of that stuff wasn't very clear to me as a pre-teen. But now that I had ejaculated for gorgeous Daisy Mae things would never be the same. Daisy, the buxom beauty from Dogpatch, had opened my eyes. Sure, she was just a drawing, but she had made me spurt sticky stuff from my dick. Imagine that kind of power.

Thirty some years later and I was having a wet dream, like some teenager, about a woman I hadn’t laid eyes on in 24 years. I still wouldn’t see her for almost a week, assuming our meeting would actually take place, and I was cumming in my boxers dreaming about her. At least I thought it had been her—I still hadn’t figured out how she got in a magazine. And, since I was trying to ass-fuck her in my dream, was that an omen? I had no idea. At least this time my poor mother wouldn’t be the one putting my cum-stained skivvies in the laundry. Why wasn’t it Jane in that dream? I had just talked to Janey before “lights out.” I had even been thinking a lot about Kendra Saturday afternoon as I was getting ready to take the boys over to the house. No matter what had happened between Kendra and me, she was prime wet dream material. But, no, I had a really nasty, filthy, sexy dream about Jackie-- someone I hadn’t seen in years.

I rolled all of this around in my brain on the way to LAX. I considered it some more on the flight to JFK. Was this even a good idea, meeting up with Jackie again? I don’t often remember dreams. Maybe once or twice a year I could actually recall in the morning something I had dreamed. I assumed I had dreams but just couldn’t remember them. By the time I got to JFK I had decided. Yeah, we were going to get together Friday, Jackie and me. No doubt about it. And we were going to see just how far Jacqueline wanted to go with a one-on-one reunion. After all, I had dreamed about it.
Riding into Manhattan I called Jackie's cell hoping she was still at work.
"Hi Wil! Where are you?" she said.
"On my way to the hotel from JFK. May I ask you a delicate question?" I said.
"Sure, Mr. Wilson. What about?" she said.
I figured the "Mr. Wilson" was a sign people were coming into her office or something. "Did Playboy ever do an entire issue dedicated to you?" I said.
"Mr. Wilson, I don't know what to say to that. Let me think about that point and I'll get back to you in, say an hour. OK?" she replied calmly.
"Sounds great to me, Ms. Sampson. It was a spectacular layout, by the way. Especially that one shot on the bed in nothing but 5 inch heels with your ass in the air," I said. I caught the driver's eyes in the rearview and grinned at him.
"OK. Very good. I'll get back to you soon about that," she said.
And then the line was dead. I chuckled. The driver said, "Sounds like fun is brewing,"
"I hope so. I'm going to a reunion this Friday. A twenty-four and a half year reunion," I said and saw the driver look at me and furrow his brow.