Wednesday, April 21, 2010

A Night of Firsts

Using a map from the local Conoco station I plotted my drive from the Wild American West to the Great American Southeast so as to freeload an overnight with old family friends, followed by a Friday night at Sparkle’s place. I didn’t need to get to my final destination until Sunday night so that left Saturday and Saturday night wide open for potential misbehavior in my old college town. When I stopped for lunch on Friday I calculated my estimated time of arrival and called Sparkle to let her know I wouldn’t get there until after 11 PM. As before, I got her housemate/tenant and she said she’d leave the message.

I pulled into the driveway at her rental house near campus at about 11:30 PM. It looked like the only light on in the house was a dim one in what I presumed was the living room. I knocked on the door hoping she was near the door—I didn’t want to ring the bell and wake the whole house if I didn’t have to do so. After a few moments a figure came to the door. It was Sparkle; rubbing her eyes, blind as a bat without her glasses, and dressed in a pale-colored kimono-type ankle-length robe.

As she opened the door I took one step in and without a word she put her arms around me and planted a kiss on my mouth. It was the first time we ever kissed. When I started to come up for air she would have nothing of it, she put her hands in my hair and opened her mouth wide and ran her tongue in my mouth. I reciprocated in a like manner with appropriate vigor.

Finally when we pulled apart I said,
“Damn you must have been having a helluva dream.”
“Oh, Daddy, you have no idea…”
“Daddy?” I thought. That was new.
I said I should bring some stuff in from the van. She said it could wait until morning.
Hell, why argue?

She took me by the hand and took me to her bedroom at the back of the first floor. It was a fair sized room lighted only by the pinkish glow from a small lamp on a chest of drawers. We faced each other and I made a quick mental note that the front of the robe, even when closed, afforded an excellent view of her more than ample cleavage. More kissing followed and a mutual craving was revealed.

I pulled on the end of the belt of her robe and it untied easily. The robe fell open and it was immediately clear to me that she had lost 10 to 15 pounds since I had last seen her. It didn’t appear that much of that total had come from her tits.
“Mmmm. Sit on the bed, Daddy,” Sparkle said in a little girl voice I'd never heard from her.
I figured I could do that so I did.
“Damn, you went out there and came back a cowboy, boots and all, didn’t you?”
“I guess I’m about as much a real cowboy as you are a Japanese girl, LJ,” I told her, referring to the kimono that was now on the floor.
She shook her head, grinning, and reached behind me to get a pillow. She dropped the pillow on the floor between us.
“Maybe you should stand back up, cowboy,” she said.
She got on her knees on the pillow as I stood.
“Let me show you something new I’ve learned, Daddy.”
She unzipped my jeans, got my hard cock out, and blew me for the first time.

Friday, April 16, 2010

All Night?

All night?
Well, maybe. Kinda. Sorta.

After some recovery time we tried it standing up. Sparkle put her hands on the dresser, bent over, and took a solid fucking in that position. Still, the memorable part for me was watching those huge tits swinging free in the mirror on top of the dresser. It was a good thing it was a furnished apartment or the only thing she could have been holding onto would have been a folding lawn chair or a card table. A belated thank you to my old landlord is appropriate here. Thanks!

After that we flopped on the bed and talked, eventually falling asleep-- a possible disqualification for “doin’ it all night” status. However, before dawn I woke up and, after some deliberation and generally not wanting my morning wood to go to waste, I nudged her awake. Before long she seemed as interested in more cock as I was in more Sparkle. I tried to maneuver her into position for a blow job but she deflected that nicely by getting on top of me. Straddling my hips she slipped my hard cock into her pussy and rocked back. We got a nice rhythm going and I was, once again, mesmerized by the swing and bounce of her breasts.

After showers and breakfast a certain awkwardness set in. Three sessions of fucking and not a single kiss. We drove back into town and I dropped her off at her dorm. It had been a pretty wild night. If I hadn’t cut through the student union that Friday afternoon it would never have happened.

Oddly, it was another two years plus before we got together again. We saw each other in class… and ran into each other from time to time during the following year… but we just never had another night together until I had been away from the university for more than a year.

Right after graduation I moved way out West for a job--- more about that later. It was a great experience in every way except for the fact that I was in a very small town and there weren’t many opportunities for activities with females. Plus one of those few opportunities could have brought about my murder. That would have been a shame, I think. Your attitude may vary. Anyway, again, more about that later. For now let’s just concentrate on what happened when I decided to move from the Wild and Wooly West to the American Southeast.

I didn’t have a lot of money to blow on hotels so I was figuring out a way to drive my van (by then I had traded my 2-seater for a van) on the 3 day/ 2 night trip on a route that might lead to crashing on friends’ couches. I had the first night figured out when I realized that, with a slight route change, I could stop for the second night in the good old college town of my dear old alma mater. But, did I know anybody there any more and, if so, did they have a couch I could use as a bed? I had stayed slightly in touch with Sparkle and wondered if she might have room. I made a call to the number I had and a voice I didn’t recognize answered. Luckily it was someone Sparkle sub-let a room to in the house she was renting. The tenant said she’d leave my message.

The next morning I was on the air doing one of my last shows for the station when Sparkle got through on the K_ _ _ Hit Line, baby! She sounded happy and as forward as ever. She loved the idea that she was on the phone with me while I was on the air. I talked to her while the songs played and she listened while I worked. It turned out she was agreeable to the idea of my stopping at her place, but she had a request since she was on the request line. Her request was such that if I had put it on the air the FCC would have pulled our ticket.

By the time I got off the phone with Sparkle I had a hard-on and I’m quite sure it wasn’t because of that super groovy Bellamy Brothers record I was playing for my vast audience of cows and sheep.

"'Let Your Love Flow', baybee!"

Friday, April 9, 2010

As Friday Becomes Saturday

Sparkle went through my record collection and found quite a few things she wanted to hear. She was partial to the R&B stuff which was cool with me. We talked a bit. I drank a beer or two. She drank tea—I was surprised to find out that she didn’t drink alcohol or do drugs. The image she projected wasn’t necessarily in synch with the real Sparkle. That was kinda interesting. I was somewhat attracted to her... but something put me off. Something that I couldn’t quite figure out. Years later I would deduce that it was just that she kept me off balance. I needed to be the aggressive one and she wasn’t letting me. Still, I could see myself fucking her. Yeah, I was sure that I could see that. Hell, I was pretty excited just to think I was going to get a look at her huge tits. What I didn’t have an urge to do was kiss her. I found it vaguely troubling that I felt that way. Not so troubling that it might get in the way of a good time... maybe I just needed another beer.

It was pretty dark in the apartment as we listened to the stereo and talked about nothing memorable. After a few albums Sparkle excused herself to use the bathroom. I lounged on the couch thinking about how good Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell sounded together. Sparkle seemed to be taking a long time to come back but that was no big deal since I still didn’t know how I was going to go about this anyway. I heard a door open and could sense that she was walking back into the living room.

She was now standing right in front of me. I looked up to see that she had nothing on but one of my t-shirts. It was a favorite shirt too—a white tee with the oval logo of an expedition outfitter I had used on a trip to Arizona. Sparkle was pulling it down at the hips but that didn’t do much good as it wasn’t long enough to cover up her pussy... which was right in front of my face now that I was sitting up. I looked up at her big titties stretching out my shirt. Fucccckkkk. I reclined and she put her hands on the back of the couch and leaned over me. I slid the t-shirt up and exposed her breasts as they hung right over my face.

I got both hands on them and took each, one at a time, in my mouth. Licking her swelling, firm nipples. Catching my teeth lightly on those nipples and tugging at them. Sucking those tits into my mouth as far as I could. They were the biggest, prettiest pair I’d ever seen. I bounced them around and gently slapped at them. When I put my face between them she shook those beauties back and forth and smacked me with them. Then I took the right one firmly in my left hand. I pushed my mouth onto it and shook my head from side to side like a puppy with a chew toy. I pulled back a bit and rubbed her tit, wet from my tongue, back and forth across my face. I squeezed it hard as I reached my right hand down to her pussy. There I found the wettest cunt I’ve ever had my hands on. I leaned forward, slid my hand down and found that she had Sparkle juice running down both thighs.

“Stand up,” I said. And as she started to do so I smacked her right tit with my left hand and put my palm over her dirty blond bush. She was absolutely sloppy. Gushing wet.
“Get in there,” I said. Sparkle said nothing, grinned, and went straight to the bedroom.
“And take that fuckin’ shirt off before you ruin it!” I yelled at her as she disappeared.

I stood up and got completely undressed in the living room. I may not want to kiss her, but I sure as hell was going to nail that big-titted slut’s juicy cunt. Playing with her had given me a good hard-on that was still nearly at full strength when I walked into the bedroom. Sparkle had turned off all the lights but the one in the closet. She had left the closet door slightly open so there was some light in the room. She was nude on her back on the bed. She was moaning and clutching her left breast in her left hand. Her left foot was flat on the bed; her left knee up. Her right leg was on the bed and her right hand was at her pussy rubbing furiously. She glanced at me and I saw an arc of something gush from between her legs. It was a spurt that went about a foot or two. Then it happened again. I thought at the time that she was pissing in my bed. Not quite.

My dick was as hard as it could get as I slipped onto the bed, between her legs. My hand went to her cunt and she was both slippery and sticky depending on where I touched her. I leaned forward and squeezed her tits together. They really were unbelievable. The aureoles were enormous. The nipples big and firm. I reached between my legs and got my cock by the root, stroked the head along her pussy lips, and then pushed it into her. Sparkle was warm, soaked, and loose as I started to pound in and out of her. I wasn’t worried about needing to get her off-- clearly she had already cum before I got into her.
There was so little friction on my cock as I banged away at her I thought I could go forever without cumming. I didn't want that. I wanted to do her hard and fast. I slammed away. When I was about ready to unload I grabbed her legs behind the knees with both hands and pushed them apart and back towards her shoulders. I finished her off for the first time that night by driving down into her as deep as I could go. As I shot my cumload I pressed in as far as I could, held it right there, and then just ground into her.
Spent, I collapsed onto her, my head between her tits.

After a minute or so Sparkle said, “I’m still alive.”
I lifted my head. “What?” I said.
“I figured you were listening for my heartbeat.”
She laughed.
I didn’t. I rolled off her.
I stared at the ceiling and thought.
“Let me know when you’re ready to go again,” Sparkle said.
I rolled over onto my side looking at her.
“All night, LJ?”
“Well, I can. But I doubt if you can,” she said.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

One Friday Night

The sentence Sparkle wrote on the back of the page was a blunt proposition. It was taken from the main character in the story of mine that she was critiquing. The tale involved a guy, a girl, a cheap motel, and the proposal of an evening of vigorous copulation. I looked at what she wrote and laughed. She was about the only woman I’d met at that point in my life who would write such a thing to a guy she didn’t really know—joke or otherwise.

I drank my beer and wondered if she was serious or being a goof. It was just part of her flamboyant nature. Maybe I’d call her bluff. Maybe I’d ignore it and see if she ever brought it up. A couple weeks went by and I saw her in class a couple times a week. The only time we talked to each other was as we departed the English building and there were always other people walking along with us. Her daring proposition turned into something that was no longer in the front of my brain.

One late Friday afternoon I had finished some work in the Radio-TV building and cut through the student union on the way across campus to where my car was parked. I had nothing fun planned for the weekend but I was looking forward to sitting out in my lonely little apartment outside of town and reading, maybe watching some sports on TV, studying, jerking off. The usual stuff you do when you live alone and nobody is coming over to visit.

I looked in the direction of my name and saw Sparkle sitting on a couch with a friend of hers. I walked over to them, she introduced her friend, brief chit-chat ensued, then the friend looked at Sparkle and said she needed to get going. Byes all around. Off she went.
"Have a seat, Wil,” Sparkle said.
I dropped onto the couch. I looked at her and couldn’t think of a single bit of small talk that she wouldn’t mock. She, on the other hand, had no problem getting the conversation started.

“Do you read the comments that people write on your stuff?” she asked.
“Some of it. Mostly it sounds like they didn’t read it. They just write sumpthin’ because they’re s’posed to,” I said.
“I know what you mean. You never write anything interesting on my papers, Wil.”
“I try to,” I said, “I guess I’m not very good at constructive criticism.”
“Are my comments about your writing constructive?”
“Some have been quite eye-opening,” I said.

She smiled.

“Oh?” Sparkle said.

I nodded.

“You busy tonight?” she said.
“Nope.” I said.
“Wanna?” she asked.
“I’m not paying for a motel, Sparkle. But I have a nice apartment and no roommates.”
She stood up. Grabbed her huge shoulder bag, and a stack of books off the couch and looked down at me.
“Let’s go,” she said.

On the drive to my place we stopped at a DQ to eat. Farther up the road Sparkle asked me to stop at a small strip shopping center. She ran into a drugstore and came out in a few minutes with a small paper bag. When she got back into my little two-seater I looked at her with a questioning look.
“Tooth brush,” she said.
“What? Are ya fuckin’ movin’ in or sumpthin’?”
“No! Jerk. I care about oral hygiene! You do own toothpaste I can borrow, right?”
“I suppose,” I said.

As we were clomping up the stairs on the outside of my apartment I considered that this was a really bad idea. More than it being a bad idea, it had crossed my mind that it wasn’t my idea. Not long ago I was musing about calling her bluff. She had called mine and then some.

Still, walking behind her on the stairs I realized that there was a lot to work with when it came to Sparkle. A helluva lot.
I showed her around the apartment and Sparkle said, “About what I figured. Too neat. Too orderly.”
I shrugged.
“Sorry. I could mess stuff up if it would make you feel more comfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said.


I was.