Sunday, December 22, 2013

White Jeans 2

“What are you doing?” Kendra said as I started driving back towards the restaurant we'd just left.
“I'm gonna go see what that asshole's problem is.”
“No! Please, don't do that!”
I kept driving.
“Really... Wil... don't go back there. Let's just go to your place.”
“No! It pisses me off that he treated you like that.”
“I know, but... please, don't.”

We were back at the restaurant parking lot and I started to open the car door when Kendra grabbed my arm. “I'm serious. Don't get into a fight over it. He didn't touch me... he just creeped me out... I'm fine.  Please don't.”
I sat there squeezing the steering wheel and tried to calm down but my blood was up. I mean, it's one thing to hit on a good looking girl, I thought, but that was way out of line. Kendra's such a sweetheart... how can some jerk talk to her like that.

Finally I turned and looked at her.
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yes! Really. If you want to do something for me please take me back to your place. Don't get in some stupid fight that won't solve anything anyway.”

After a couple minutes I pulled out of the lot and back on the street towards my place.
“Thanks baby,” Kendra said, “you'll be happy you decided to go home.”
“Yeah?” I said.
“I'm pretty sure, yeah,” she said.
We smiled at each other.


I opened her car door and we walked to the front door of the apartment building. There was that click of her high heels on the sidewalk again. I felt my dick stiffen. I followed her up the stairs staying far enough behind her that I was looking straight at her gorgeous ass right in front of me-- watching it move perfectly as she went up the stairs in her heels. I was dead certain she wasn't wearing any panties under those skin tight pants.

As we entered the apartment it was all I could do to keep from tossing her on the floor.
“Do you mind if I go...ah?” she waved in the direction of the bedroom and bathroom.
“Go right ahead,” I said, “you want a beer or a glass of wine?”
“White wine if you have some.”
“OK, not sure how good it is, but a glass will be waiting for you.”
She picked up the shopping bags she'd left in the living room, went in the bedroom, and closed the door behind her.

She was gone almost twenty minutes. The anticipation was killing me. I played almost an entire album while I waited. I drank a beer. I got a boner lost it and got it back again and lost it once more and she still hadn't come back into the living room.

When Kendra finally came back she was still wearing the white jeans and the open-back slides with the 4 inch heels. But now, instead of the top she'd had on before, she was wearing her new red halter top. Sure, Kendra had the greatest ass and legs I'd ever seen but she was also stacked. I found out later in our relationship that she wore a 36D bra-- but all I knew at this point in time was that my 19 year old girlfriend had an absolutely killer rack. The halter top showed lots of cleavage and plenty of side boob. My hard-on was back with one purpose in mind.

She had gotten her hair back to the way it looked, no doubt, when she left her parents' house hours ago. She had redone her makeup, her lipstick was fresh, and her perfume was pleasantly filling the room.
“Here's your wine,” I said, “if it's too warm I can pour you another glass.”
“I'm sorry, I know I took too long.”
“Yes, Kendra, you did take too long. But what I'm looking at was well worth the wait.”
She took a sip of her wine as we stood facing each other. As she put the wine glass down on an end table I saw the lipstick smudge from her full lower lip on the rim of the glass. I wanted some of that lipstick on my cock right now.

She turned to me. We hugged. Then we kissed and I could taste the wine on her tongue. We kissed some more. Then I took her to the couch. We kissed more. I told her we had four hours before I needed to go to work.
She said, “Four hours with no place we need to be?”
I nodded.
Her eyes twinkled.  The Kendra from before the incident was all the way back.
We talked a bit.


“Take off that top,” I said.
She stuck out her beautiful lower lip in a pout.
“Don't you like it? I thought you'd like it or I wouldn't have bought it.”
“I like it fine,” I said, “and when we go out somewhere you should wear it. It looks great on you.
Now, take it off.”

She reached behind her neck and untied the string. Then, she pulled the band below her breasts away from her and lifted the halter over her tits and then up over her head,
“I probably messed up my hair now, thanks to you,” she said, still acting faux pouty.
"Don't worry, doll.  Your hair is gonna get plenty messed up."
She was wearing a small silver pendant on a long silver chain necklace. She had put it on so that the chain made a loop around her neck, snug as a choker, and then the second loop allowed the pendant to rest just between her full, firm, natural tits.

With the index finger of my right hand I touched the pendant. I told her I liked how it looked with a tight loop around her neck and then the pendant drawing the eyes to her breasts. She smiled and said, very softly, “Good. I really hope you like.... um... everything tonight.”
I kissed her as I held her left breast in my right hand. Then I left her mouth and tongued and sucked her tits. First one then the other. Then I pushed them together and ran my tongue back and forth across her erect nipples.
“Beautiful baby, beautiful,” I said.
I rolled the nipple of her left tit between my thumb and index finger. I tugged it and squeezed it. She whimpered softly and drew in breath abruptly when I pinched it hard.
“If I fuck you right now I'll cum too fast and leave you high and dry... you're just so fucking hot... we have time to go three or four times tonight... so unzip me and get on it, babydoll... you suck cock so good baby... get on that dick...”

Kendra slid off the couch to the floor and crawled in between my legs. She reached up, unzipped my blue jeans, and then undid my belt buckle and opened up my pants. I had gone without underwear knowing she'd be blowing me right after dinner so my stiff cock was right in front of her face. She grasped it with her right hand and stroked it. She was wearing silver rings on her middle finger and pinkie. Her fingernails matched her toenails and lipstick. Her lips parted as she positioned herself to suck me off. She gripped my dick down at the root and took three or four moves halfway down the shaft and back with her mouth to warm up.  Then she slipped her right hand down to my balls, grasped my right leg with her left hand and slid my whole cock through her pretty lips turning her head to the right as she went. As she pulled back off of it she turned her head to the left. She set a nice, slow, pace as she effortlessly took more than seven inches of hard dick time after time-- each time with the same mesmerizing head turn.

I was in a trance watching this beauty-queen-teen, parade-float-princess blow me like a seasoned pro. She went after it for at least ten minutes and I still hadn't blown my load. She picked up her pace.  She was slobbering, drool escaping her mouth as she blew me.  Now she was moaning.   From time to time she'd pull off, strands of spit keeping her connected to my hard cock.  She'd take a few panting breaths and then, staring right at me, she'd plunge that thick dick back between her pretty lips.  Kendra was going after that hard cock so fast, taking it so deep, that I was shocked I hadn't shot down her throat already when I felt that rumble that signaled that this big-titted blonde was gonna get a mouthful of cum real soon.

I put my hands in that wild, thick hair and pulled her on my cock until her chin pushed into my balls. I looked down and saw her bare back widening into her perfectly proportioned hips. I saw her ass in those tight, white pants, and beyond that, toes down in the carpet, I saw her sexy heels. I leaned back, looked at all that beauty and released.  I came down her throat time after time after time. When I finally let go of her head she pulled off, coughing and gasping and gobs of thick white cum rolled like lava over her lower lip and onto her bare tits.

We were both breathing heavily.
“Kendra,” I said.
She looked at me but didn't speak.
“You're gonna get fucked tonight, babydoll.”
She smiled slightly as she used her fingers to get the jizz off her chin and both titties.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Kendra's White Jeans

It was a warm late Spring evening in the South.  Not hot and humid like July and August, but warm, and I had the windows open to let a cross breeze into my second floor apartment.  I was reading a trade magazine and waiting for Kendra.  I knew I'd recognize the sound of her two-seater sports car as she pulled into a spot below my open window. 

We'd been going out for about five months.  She lived with her parents in the country about an hour east of the city and never complained that she was the one that drove back and forth all the time.  She liked coming to the city.  She knew that if I came out to see her there was nothing to do in the small town near her home.  And, frankly, Kendra liked that we spent hours in my apartment fucking whenever she came to town.  I liked that part too.

Kendra was nineteen.  She was nearly eight years younger than me.  In fact, her parents were only eleven or twelve years older than me.  She was the hottest thing I'd ever nailed and she had a submissive streak a mile wide.  I wasn't in love, at least not yet, but if I went a couple of days without bangin' her I was in a bad mood.

I heard the distinctive sound of her little roadster. As I got up to look out the window I heard her grind a gear putting the stick shift into reverse.  She backed into a spot right in front.  The driver's side door popped open and Kendra swung her long legs out together like a trained fashion model.  She was wearing skin tight white jeans and slides with a four inch heel.  She stood up and didn't look towards the window.  I stood back to take it all in.  Her blonde hair was in a style not unlike Farrah's-- it was, after all, the late 70's-- lots of hair was the fashion.  And on her it was incredible.  She had on big aviator sunglasses and a print top that was a bit too large, gauzy and loose to suit me.  She stepped to the back of the car and then over to the passenger side. She opened the door and leaned over to get some shopping bags off the front seat.  As she bent at the waist her ass was a thing of exquisite beauty in those new, tight white jeans.  She closed up the car and started towards the door of my apartment building.  I turned from the window but could hear the sound of her high heels on the sidewalk.  A guy can get a hard on just hearing that sound.

I was waiting for her as she got to the last steps.
"Hey babe."
"Hey Wil." Kendra said.
She had a soft drawl and a smooth, warm, low voice.
"What's in the bags?"
"Oh, I just picked up a couple things this afternoon."
We kissed and I followed her into my apartment.
My cock twitched just from seeing and smelling her.

"I like the new outfit," I said.
"What about this top?"
"Not my favorite part, but everything else is perfect," I said.
"I can change," she said.
She dug through the new stuff in one of the shopping bags and pulled out a red halter top that didn't look much bigger than a bikini top.
"This better?"
"Yeah, it's better... but not for tonight.  Let's go get something to eat."
She laughed.
"You're not in a hurry to have dinner, you're in a hurry to get back here.  I know you Mr. Wilson."
She was so adorable I considered doing her on the floor right then.  But that had happened a few times already and I didn't want to get too predictable.


We took her car to the restaurant.  It was place that had a younger clientele.  Decent food and a bar scene that got crowded as the night went on.  But it was early and the place was only half full.  We talked and ate and talked some more.  She knew that I had to leave the apartment at about midnight to go to work as the overnight guy at the highest rated station in the market.  If we got back to my place by 7:30 it gave us plenty of time to play.  Kendra was just as eager as I was to get back to the apartment.

As we were leaving I decided I should use the restroom.  I knew she'd want to use the only bathroom in my one-bedroom place to freshen up when we got home and everything would work better if I just relaxed in the living room and waited for her entrance.  Always planning ahead, I was.

Kendra waited just inside the entrance of the restaurant while I went to the men's room. 
"Don't go away, I'll be right back," I said.  She grinned.  Her blue eyes were dancing.
When I came back less than five minutes later Kendra was standing where I had left her but facing her was a guy I'd never seen.  The guy was standing very close to her.  She was holding her purse in front of her and didn't look particularly happy as she spoke to him. 
"OK, I'm ready," I said as I took her left arm at the elbow.
The guy looked at me.  I didn't know him but I knew I didn't like him.  He had me by about two inches and twenty pounds.  There was a second or two where I don't think he knew what to say or do.  Then he stepped back and we left.  I noticed that neither he nor Kendra said anything as we went out the door.

As I opened her door for her I said, "Did you know that guy?"
She sat down and swung her legs into the car.
"I've never seen him before in my life," she said.
The happy mood she'd been in at dinner was gone.
I got in and started the engine.  I put the car in first and pulled out of the lot onto the street.  The apartment was just five minutes away.
"You okay, babe?
After a minute Kendra said, "There are a lot of creeps out there."
"What the hell did he say to you?"
She waved off the question.
"Look Kendra, you were in a great mood tonight.  I don't want some asshole screwing up our night.  What did that jerk say?"

She sighed.

"He walked in just as you were going into the bathroom.  At first I figured he thought I was the hostess.  But then he looked at me a little too long, you know, and then sort of looked me over real slow... it was so creepy... like a big drooling animal... so I looked away from him and started to walk to the lady's room but  he stepped in front of me and said, 'I don't need a menu, girl. I know what I'm eatin' tonight.'"

I pulled the car over and, when traffic cleared, I made a U-turn.

No Limit

Apparently it is possible to drive 55...

or is she 56?

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Bombing Pearl

I never used to remember dreams.  Maybe once a year one would stick with me when I awoke -- not any more often than that.  But for the past couple years I remember dreams or fragments of dreams a few times a month.  There's no big secret as to why as far as I'm concerned.  I don't sleep through the night like I used to and when I wake up at 2 or 3 AM I interrupt a dream and remember it.  Simple as that.

So this morning when I woke up it was still dark out.  I get up earlier than most people but getting out of bed for the day at 3AM is crazy-- especially on a Saturday.  I had the memory of a tiny fragment of a dream and I reviewed it in my mind to make sure I remembered it.

Most of the dreams I remember have nothing to do with sex.  But this one did.  It involved someone I've never actually met but knew quite well through this site.  I know it's hard to believe that this nearly dormant place once was a bit more lively, but it was.  More importantly it linked to a lot of better, more exciting sites.  There was a kind of community that is gone now.  Some of those people would contact me from time to time a few years ago to wish me well or say howdy or whatever.  One of those people starred in this dream

We were in a home I once owned in Southern California.  She was down on the Saltillo tile floor.  The lights were dim but I could see that she had tight blue jeans on and nothing else.  Somehow I was fucking her doggy style despite the fact she had jeans on.  Dreams aren't big on accurate detail I've found.  I could see her from my point of view but also as if the scene was being filmed.  Close ups of her face as I drove into her.  A side view of her tits swaying with each thrust. A POV look at her bottom covered in skin-tight denim as I banged into it. My bare hand smacking her ass as I fucked her. She was very vocal.  Unreserved.

Eventually we both climaxed together (I told you it was a dream!) and were sprawled out on the cool tile.  We didn't speak.  A radio came on (how? I don't know!) and, like in an old movie, an announcer was saying that he was interrupting the broadcast for an important announcement, the Japanese had just bombed Pearl Harbor.

I got up and started to pull my clothes on.  She just looked at me.  I started to leave the room and she said, "Where are you going?"

I said, "Didn't you hear?  We're at war! I have to go enlist."

I woke up.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Dawn Sets The Scene

“Sorry, I'm running late,” Dawn said.
She was wearing a short, white, cotton robe and drying her hair with a matching thick bath towel.
“C'mon in!”

I stepped in from her front porch and watched her walk away from me. The robe almost covered her ass but not quite. I felt my cock twitch. She talked to me over her shoulder as she went down the hall towards the bathroom.

“I'll be back out in a sec. There's stuff to eat and drink in the kitchen. Help yourself”

I made a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich, opened a beer, and sat down at the kitchen table. Halfway through my sandwich Dawn came in, dropped herself across my lap, and hugged my neck. Her amazing cleavage was about a half a foot from my nose and I had the urge to put her down on the kitchen floor and fuck her. But I played it cool and continued to drink my beer, holding it in my left hand while holding her waist with my right. She kissed my cheek and then hugged me tightly, burying my face between her tits.

“I missed you, Billy. Gawd we're gonna have so much fun!”
“I can't breath in here.”
She laughed and let me out of that canyon.
I made a big deal out of catching my breath, drank some more Olympia, and finished my sandwich. She repositioned herself on my lap. I was surprised how light she felt considering the size of her tits and ass.

“So, Dawn, I thought we were playin' dress-up tonight... sumpthin' about a desert island or...”
“Oh, we are! It's gonna be a blast, Billy.”
“I'm almost afraid to ask, but, do I have to wear a costume?”
“Well, I thought about that,” Dawn said, “but then I figured that you probably didn't need anything.”
“But you have something special to wear, right?”
“Yes! You'll love it!” she said.
I was a bit confused but not terribly worried. After all, the whole thing was about fucking for the next twenty-four hours. Why get hung up on the details.

“Let me tell you the scene before I finish getting ready, OK?”
I shrugged my assent. She got off my lap and stood facing me.

“OK, here's the deal. It's like around 1800 or so... the time of sailing ships anyway... before motors and stuff... and you've been on this Pacific Island for about a year. You were shipwrecked and the only survivor and you're on this uninhabited island.”
“Uninhabited except for me,” I said.
“Right, smart ass. So I show up on the beach, all dressed up, sitting on my luggage, well a steamer trunk...”
“Hold it,” I said, “ if it was before engines then there weren't steam ships and if there weren't steam ships there couldn't be steamer trunks.”
“Shut up. It's a trunk for my clothes and stuff, OK?”
I nodded.
“So, I'm all dolled up, a fine La-Dee-Dah Lady from New York.  And that's where you find me. On the beach”
“Um, Dawn,” I said, “how did you get there?”
“Well... I dunno, William. Sounds like the first question you'll ask me, doesn't it.  We just play our parts in the scene and try to stay in character.  So there's stuff we don't know yet.  See?”
She had an ear to ear grin.

“OK, I have to admit, this sounds like fun. Crazy, yeah, but fun,” I said.
“Just wait 'til you see my outfit!” Dawn said.
“I can't wait. Seriously, I don't think I can wait. But, I still don't quite get one thing about all of this,” 
“What don't you understand?”

“I don't have any 1800's clothes to wear... you have some fancy costume... I supposed to be a time traveler from the 1970's or what?”
“No. See, you were shipwrecked and you only have the clothes you were wearing at the time and, since it's a tropical island and there are no people around, you put those clothes away so you'll have something to wear if anybody ever comes to rescue you. But, normally, you don't wear anything.  There's nobody around so why wear clothes, see?”

I stared at her. She smiled that big, happy, self-satisfied grin again.

“Except the towel I was hanging onto when my ship went down, right, Dawn? A big bath towel.”
“Hmm, I don't think they had big fluffy towels back then,” she said.
“A washcloth?”
She took a step towards me and leaned over to hug me as I sat on her kitchen chair. Her robe was open enough that I could see her big, gorgeous breasts as she bent over. I was ready and undoubtedly able.

Dawn spoke softly right next to my ear, “Won't it be fun to have me all dressed up and you completely naked? See, it's been a year that you've been alone on this island and you've kinda reverted back to an animal state... and I'm this big city girl all alone...  made up like I'm on a date with a Prince, in a corset, a big fancy dress, a stylish hat, perfume, jewelry... and at some point maybe I figure out that without you, well, who knows what might happen to me in this scary place.”

She stood up and looked down at me.

"How long will it take for you to get ready, Dawn, 'cause I can be out of these clothes in about five seconds."

She laughed and headed back to the bathroom.  "Give me about 45 minutes.  I'll tell you when you can come onto your Pacific island, baby." 

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Hotel in San Francisco

By the mirrored closet.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Dejection, Promotion, Proposition

"Hey, Wil, could you not throw that in the trash... or flush it either?"
I was inside the little private bathroom attached to the office in the backroom of her gift shop and could hear Pamela talking to me through the door.

I held the used rubber in front of me and wondered how to dispose of it without dropping it in the waste basket or flushing it down the toilet.  I folded it, closing the open end and wrapping the whole sticky thing in toilet paper.  And then, well, I did all I could do.  I put it in my pocket.

When I walked back into her office I saw that Pam had gotten her clothes straightened out again and her hair brushed.  She was sitting at her desk, composed and put together.  It would have been hard to determine that a few minutes earlier she had been on her back on the couch in her office, blouse unbuttoned, her skirt pushed up over her hips, legs spread wide, panty-less, with me trying my level best to fuck her senseless.

"Don't worry about it, Wil," Pamela said.
"Uh, sure," I said.
I stood there not knowing what more to say.
"Should I call you after 9 tomorrow morning?"
"Yeah, guess I'll talk to you then," I said.

I left through the back door of her store as usual.  Within about 15 minutes she would be unlocking the front door and flipping the "Closed" sign back to the "Yes, We're Open" side.  As I walked to my van, carefully parked three blocks away so nobody would see it parked in front of her shop every Tuesday from noon to 1 PM, I tried not to dwell on how poorly today's meeting had gone.  For months we had been getting together once a week for a session of intimacy.  It always followed variations on a familiar routine-- kissing, fondling, and fingering-- ending in a blowjob.  I was fine with every bit of that routine and marveled at how, every time, she eagerly swallowed my thick load like she was absolutely starved for it.  Pam was about ten years older than me and her cocksucking skills were magical.  Somehow she could delay my orgasm to the point where I was explosive.  When I'd let it go she would take it all and clean up with her tongue any drops that got away.

Pamela had asked me to bring a pack of rubbers to our meeting today.  Yes, they were universally called rubbers back then. We may have known the word condom, I honestly can't recall, but we never called them that. Hell, we knew that they were called prophylactics too but calling them that, or condoms, would've sounded pretty stilted.  No, they were rubbers-- unless you were a Firesign Theater fan in which case you might call them safety wieners in a joking way.  And rubbers were something old-fashioned to us.  They were for guys who weren't fucking chicks on the pill.  Which, I surmised was what Pamela's request was all about.  Her husband Donnie was an old man-- hell he must be about 60!  If they were still screwing ( I didn't want to think about that!) he was probably shootin' blanks.  Maybe they didn't have sex anymore.  Either way, he'd be pretty suspicious if she was on the pill.  So, apparently, she wanted me to fuck her but she couldn't risk getting knocked up. Thus her request that I bring balloons to the party this time.

I had a recollection that there was a vending machine in the men's room of the Conoco station out by the highway.  I was right, and after inserting a bunch of quarters I got my prize from the machine.

But, when it came to using one of the smelly, slippery things with her, well, nothing went right. I was excited so getting hard wasn't the problem.  I fumbled around getting it out of the wrapper but got it on, finally.  She looked so ready, on her back, legs open, but trying to get into her was like employing a battering ram on the castle door.  She looked ready but I'd done nothing to warm her up-- no foreplay-- and by the time I figured that out... I shot in the rubber.

Things had been a lot better when she was just content to suck my cock.

I went back to the station after pitching the used rubber in a trash barrel and getting lunch at The Country Kitchen.  My boss, Uncle Bobby, asked me to come to his office when I was done cutting three new commercials in the production studio.  It was nearly 4PM when I sat down across from him at his desk.  I was slightly concerned.  I was pretty sure he was happy with my on-air performance.  Plus, I'd also brought in some billing as a sales rep for the station in the afternoons.  Maybe he'd figured out that I was having sex with a client-- a client who happened to be married to the CEO of our biggest account, Donnie Scoggins, owner of Scoggins Ford.  Yeah, that could be a problem.

But, if Bobby knew about my fooling around with Pamela Scoggins he wasn't letting on.  Instead he wanted to propose something he'd never done before.  He wanted me to continue doing mornings on the station but he also wanted me to do mid-days at another station he owned, in a town 45 minutes away.  He offered me a 60% raise and I could trade-out all the gasoline I needed.  Of course, a 60% raise for me was a savings for him as he didn't need to hire another guy.  I would keep my 6-10 AM shift on this station, drive to the other one, and do noon to 3PM there.  I said I'd give it a try if he'd let me drop my Saturday morning shift.  Done.  He was pleased, but I got the impression that there was more to it than I could figure out.


I went to a pay phone and called Dawn at work to tell her my good news.  She was happy and requested that I come stay at her place for the weekend.  I told her I could be there by 3PM on Saturday.
"Good, Wil.  You won't leave my house for at least 24 hours, I promise."
I laughed, "OK, Dawn."
"You know how my bedroom looks like a deserted island? Well, this weekend it will be 1801, you will be a guy who's been a castaway there for years, and I'm going to be this high society woman who gets marooned there."
"Dawn," I said, "You realize that you're crazy, don't you?"
"Imagine how I'll look, Wil. All dressed up.  Doesn't it sound like fun?"
"I didn't say it didn't sound fun," I said.

I got back out to my place and jerked off thinking about Dawn... and her best friend Pamela... and Dawn.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Telephone Lines

It was a two hour drive from Dawn's house back to my little hovel that Sunday night.  The road went through miles of open range country with no lights around other than my van's headlights.  I wanted to drive fast to get home before sleep overtook me but the chance of a couple dozen head of cattle standing on the two lane just over the next hill or around the next bend kept me from flooring it.

I imagined that the telephone lines running along the highway were probably carrying a conversation between Dawn and her best friend Pamela as I motored along.  It was all so strange.  I didn't know what to think about those two.  Had Pamela handed me off to Dawn?  Was Pam really going to stay and make it a threesome before being called back home?  What if anything were they up to?  Then again, why should I worry?  After all, with Pamela I was getting a weekly mid-day blow job nearly every Tuesday and now, with Dawn, I had just had a weekend of fucking and sucking until I could barely stay awake for the drive back home.  Things could be a lot worse.

I was dead tired when I went on the air at 6AM Monday. But "the show must go on" so I plugged away.  I could always count on my boss, station owner Uncle Bobby, to catch anything that wasn't good about my effort.  That's not a complaint. He taught me volumes of practical skill and his criticism was always constructive. Still, I was so tired I hoped he wasn't listening for once.

While I was playing a record just after my 9 o'clock news break I took a call on the request line. It was Pam. Her husband Donnie was safely off to his business and she wanted to talk.
"Did you have a good time without me this weekend?"
"Yeah," I said.  She heard me sounding a bit too carefully non-committal and laughed.
"It's OK, baby.  I told you to have a good time.  Dawn said last night that everything went well without me around."
"Oh, did she now?" I said.
"You have a different opinion, Wil?"
She sounded just slightly worried.
"No.  It was good.  Everything was good."
"Good... good...glad to hear it.  You're coming by at the regular time tomorrow to go over my account, right?"
"Sure. I figured I would-- same as always," I said.
"Great!  It'll be good to see you.  Seems like it's been longer than a few days!" Pam said.
"Yeah, it does," I said.  I had her hold on while I did a time and temp check and rolled into Grand Funk Railroad's re-make of Little Eva's The Loco-Motion

"OK, Pam, I'm back," I said.
" Yeah...uhh.... Wil, could you pick something up before coming over tomorrow?"
"Sure," I said.  It wasn't unusual for her to ask me to bring a soft drink or some cookies along when I came by the store at lunchtime.
"What do ya need?"
"A pack of rubbers."
I was speechless.

After a few too many seconds I said, "How many do you want, Pam?"
Another pause.
"We'll probably only need one, but you better bring some spares."
"See you tomorrow, Pam. Bye."
"See you then. Bye."

My little baby sister can do it with ease.
It's easier than learnin' your ABC's.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Yes Sir

I followed Dawn through the netting and onto her bed.  Having just received a handjob from her my inclination was to stretch out and take a nap but that might have been frowned upon.  I tried to uphold my end of the bargain and got my mouth on one of her tits as my right hand found her bush.  I had barely touched her when she gushed all over my hand and cried out.  Within seconds she jumped out of bed and went out the door naked leaving me flopped on my back on her huge bed looking around at the craziest bedroom I've ever seen.

I could tell from the sound of a closing a door that she had gone into the bathroom across the hall.  A few minutes later Dawn asked from the hallway if I wanted anything to drink.  I asked for a glass of water and she told me it would be waiting for me in the living room.  So much for a cat nap.

I pulled on my jeans and nothing else and stopped to use the bathroom before making it to the living room.  Dawn was sitting on the couch drinking a glass of wine and I dropped down at the other end from her.
"Water, huh?  Don't get too wild on me now Wil," Dawn said with a smile.
"Just thirsty."

Dawn was wearing her Denver Broncos jersey again.  I calculated that it must have been hanging in the bathroom.  She got up and walked to a bookcase.  I noticed the jersey barely covered half her panty-less ass as she bent over to move a few books out.  She pulled a silver box out from behind the books and brought it back to the couch.  She put it on the cocktail table and opened it.  It didn't have a hinged lid-- the top slid over the bottom like a shoebox. Inside were a few tightly rolled joints.  She fired one with a Bic lighter on the table, took a drag, and held it out to me.  I waved her off and as I did her eyebrows went up silently asking, "Really? You don't want to get high?"

I shrugged back at her.  She tilted her head and smirked.  I read that to mean, "Suit yourself."
She smoked a bit more than half of the joint before holding it out to me and saying, "This shit is killer.  You should try it."
"Nah.  I'm good," I said.
She stubbed it out in the big glass ashtray on the table.
She slid over next to me on the couch and turned to her right to face me. 
"I think I figured something out about you, Wil."
She grinned at me.
"Yeah.  You like to be in control."
"I do?" I said.
"Yeah.  You do.  You want to run things... and if you drink too much or smoke something you might not be able to be in control.  So you stay pretty sober and make me party alone."
"Maybe," I said, "except you're not alone.  I'm right here."
"But you're not having as much fun as me," Dawn said.
"I think I was having a lot of fun a few minutes ago back on that desert island or whatever the hell your bedroom is masquerading as..."
She laughed out loud.
"You like sex a lot more than getting loaded, don't you Mr. Wilson?"
"Guilty as charged.  It's not even a close call."

She smiled as she ran her left hand all over my bare chest and stomach.
"I'm responsible for a bunch of people at work... I never asked to be, it just happened that way.  It exhausts me to have to worry about people at work... so.... when I'm safe in my house... with a guy like you let's say.... I like it better when that guy, um, tells me what to do... ya know?"
"So you're saying it's a good thing I'm fairly sober so I can make all the decisions, Dawn?" I said.
She smiled.
"Yes, Mr. Wilson.  It's better for all concerned if I get stoned and drink red wine while you stick to water. You make all the decisions.  Just tell me what I should do, Mr. Wilson."
She kept running her hand on my chest.
"OK," I said, "I think I'm up for the challenge."
She slid her hand down to my jeans.
"It appears you are," she said.
I shook my head at how corny that was.

"Did I ever tell you about my, uh, problem?" Dawn said.
Christ... don't tell me you have the clap, I thought-- but didn't say out loud.
"I don't think so, Dawn.  What problem do you have?"
She got her mouth right next to my ear and said softly, "I'm obsessed with cock.  I can't ever get enough hard dick, Wil.  It's a big problem.  I'm a cock fiend. I can't live without it."
Then she sat back and looked at me with her left hand still on my lap.
"So, it's up to you to make all the decisions about, ya know, what we're going to do all night, but I wanted to make sure you had all the information to work with..."
She trailed off.

I leaned towards her and with both my hands I got her mass of black curly hair pulled up into a pile on the top of her head like a topknot.  I gathered it into my left hand and stood up.  She, of course,  stood too.  I pushed her out in front of us without letting go of the topknot.
"I think it's time we got back to that desert island, cockslut."
"Yes sir, Mr. Wilson!" Dawn said.