Sunday, October 25, 2015

Marsha

Marsha had a Dorothy Hamill haircut. At the time Miss Hamill was the reigning Olympic Champion figure skater so many women had adopted her short hairstyle.  Most of them probably shouldn't have, of course.  But that's always true.  There are plenty of examples today of people dressing or otherwise trying to mimic the look of a celebrity.  It's seldom a wise idea.

Now Dorothy was very cute but I thought Marsha was her equal in that department.  Marsha also had a voluptuousness that I found more attractive than the athletic build of a figure skater.  (Your mileage may vary.)  To me, Marsha was a smart babe who also had a great speaking voice-- a big plus at a broadcasting school.

We became friends pretty quickly.  She had already graduated from college and was attending the broadcasting school to try to get into TV.    I thought that was a good idea and encouraged her to go for it. She was only a year or so younger than me and we had similar tastes in TV shows, music (to some extent) and movies.  Well, at least similar enough that we didn't argue about it.  I enjoyed having someone to actually date, which mainly meant going out to eat and seeing movies a couple times a week.  She seemed pretty shy about sex and I didn't press her at all on that front.

She liked the fact that I was already working at the biggest radio station in the city.  A station that, by the way, also had a TV side that operated out of the same complex.  But if she was getting close to me just to further her career she was very skilled at doing it without making it obvious.  Then again, I can be pretty oblivious about stuff like that. 

We had been going out for a while when Marsha asked me if I could help her get a job at the school.  She wanted something during the day. She lived with her parents about a half hour south of town so her thinking was that she could come up in the morning to work and stay for school in the evening on the two nights she had class.  I had an excellent relationship with the woman who was the office manager at the school.  I put in a good word for Marsha, she interviewed, and within a few days of her asking me for help she was working 30 hours a week at the school.

A couple of weeks after she started working we met for an early dinner at a little place a couple blocks from the school.  She had gotten off at  4:30 and I was supposed to be at the school at 6.  We talked and ate and then she went down the road to home.

During the first break that evening during class I sat in an office with one of the full-time employees of the school.  Ernie had worked at one of the TV stations in town on the tech side and his gig at the school was signing up students and teaching some of the TV and radio production classes.  Ernie was married but lecherous.  As far as I know he had never scored with a student but he sure always talked about it.  When he motioned me into his office and closed the door I was sure he wanted to discuss young pussy.

He got right to it.
"Do you know this chick who just started working here... she's in the Monday- Wednesday class... Marsha?"
"Yeah, I know who you mean," I said.
"Wow! That little chippy is fuckin' hot!  I've never had her in a class but I'd like to do her in the ass, ya know!"

Ernie really had a way with words.

"She's cute, that's for sure," I said.
"Cute! The fuckin' tits on that girl!  Jesus! You should have seen the sweater she had on today!"
Of course, I had, but I didn't tell him that.
"I was talkin' to her and I couldn't take my eyes off those knockers.  And, no fuckin' bra on so when her high beams went on... I thought my pants would rip, ya know what I mean?"
"Sounds great, Ern!  So, her nipples stood up while she was talking to you, huh.  She must be interested. You gonna take a run at her?"
"I'm thinking on it.  That's why I wanted to talk to you... see if you knew anything about her.  Honest to God Wil, the ass on that girl.  What I would do to her! You could suffocate between those big titties too!"

"I know her a bit.  I mean, we've talked some.  She's pretty reserved.  Real close family from what I can tell... lives at home.  I don't know if she's exactly 'up for the party', Ernie."
"Reserved... hmmm. That could be fun. I like 'hard to get.'"

The students were going back into the classroom so we broke off our high level discussion.

I didn't know Marsha nearly well enough to tell her the details of Ernie's obsession with her but I did tell her on the phone the next day to look out for him.  She laughed, "Oh, he's so creepy.  I had to go in the office and ask him a question for Bill and he kept stroking his necktie the whole time I was in there.  Ewwww!  He's really gross.  Hold it, did he say something about me?!"
"No, Marsha, I just know he's... well, he's what you already figured out he is."

"Hey, Wil... thanks for lookin' out for me."
"No problem, Marsha.  See you tomorrow?"
"Yes!  I'm looking forward to it, I love the Carly Simon song from that movie." she said.

So, in addition to brains and beauty Marsha also seemed to have a good sleazeball detector. 

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Was It Her?

I had only a couple more encounters with Debbie.  About a week after the events chronicled in my last post she was back at my house in the evening.  Before we made it to the bedroom Debbie suggested we go for a drive.  We took my van and I drove where she directed me.  I was soon in a part of town I didn't know. After a few minutes we turned right down a residential street.  The homes were nice but not overly grand. 

We went a few blocks and Debbie told me to slow down.  Then she had me pull over.  There was on-street parking in this part of town and I pulled in between a couple of sedans.
"OK.  So, what are we doing?" I said.
"See that house on the left?" She pointed at a house about a half block up the street.  It was just after dusk.  I could see the house.  The porch light was on.
"The brick split level, white trim, with garage on this side?"
"Yes," Debbie said.
"OK. So...?"
"That's where I live."
"Oh.  It looks nice.  Are we going in or something?"
"No."
Debbie got up and walked, stooped over so her head wouldn't bump the roof of the van, between the front seats and sat in the short row immediately behind me.
"Would you come back here, please..."
I got out of the driver's seat and went back to the bench where she was.
Then Debbie slid herself off the seat and sat on the floor of the van.  She took off the shorts she was wearing and then slipped off her panties.

We screwed on the floor of the van parked a half a block from her house.  It was dirty and quick.
That night was the last I saw Debbie.  Maybe...
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About thirty years later I was walking through a bookstore when an end cap display caught my eye. I didn't know why I stopped to look at the books until I realized that the author's name-- a distinctive, uncommon last name-- had triggered my stop.  It was Debbie's name on the cover of a cookbook.  I picked up a copy and wondered if it was the same person I'd known decades earlier.  The short bio on the back flap of the dust jacket didn't rule it out.  In fact it said that she was from the right state but lived in a different city than where we met.  The small picture of her didn't look a lot like the Debbie I remembered.  But I couldn't be sure it wasn't her.

The display signage said she would be in the store for a book signing that weekend.  I didn't have any desire to talk to her but I was curious if it was the same person.

I went back that weekend and saw that they had her set up at a table for several hours with a stack of books to sign.  There was no long line but there was a steady flow of people coming up to meet her and have a cookbook signed.  The author seemed to be the same height as the Debbie I knew but about 40 pounds heavier.  Her thick dark red hair was now cut short and blondish.  She wore wire-framed glasses. She smiled warmly at everyone who came up to the table.  I heard her speak... it could be her... I couldn't be sure.
---------------------------------

The new classes started at the broadcasting school the week after the events in the van.  Between the two new sections there were about 50-60 students.  Of those fewer than two dozen were women.  Of that group I would guess about 10 or so were my age or younger.  I found four attractive.  But the one that caught my eye was Marsha.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Finals

I believed Debbie when she told me that she was a virgin.  In fact, by the time I sent her back home to her mom and daddy, freshly fucked, I was certain of it.  I also was beginning to think that she had, in a way, used me.

She was the new swan that not long before had been an ugly duckling, to hear her tell it.  But what I was picking up on was that she wanted some sexual experience because she had her eye on a guy-- some guy who hadn't noticed her in high school and now was bird-dogging her for a date. She had babbled about all sorts of stuff after she got laid for the first time that night. I was piecing some things together.  After about an hour and a half  of her talking I told her to stroke my dick.  She did. The chatter died down immediately as well.

Once I was stiff I put on a fresh rubber and told her to get in position for a doggy-style fuck.  She figured out how to do that and I got behind her.  I gave her snow white ass cheeks each a good bare-hand smack and, as I slid back into that pussy I jerked her head back by her thick, red hair and smacked her ass again with my free hand.  She yelped, I let go of her hair, grabbed her waist with both hands and then I banged the hell out of her from behind as she gasped, moaned, and panted.

A little after 10PM I walked Debbie down to the family Oldsmobile. 
"Thanks for the lesson," she said, sounding all flirty.
"Gonna tell your girlfriends what you learned tonight?"
"No!  They'd want their own lessons... they would be jealous of me though..."
I shrugged.
"Is it possible to come back again?" she said.
"Call me. I'd call you but you've never given me your phone number."

I walked over to my van, got in as she drove down the street and then I drove to work in the other direction.

Well, I had done my part if my role was to be her teacher.  I wasn't going to complain if all I got out of it was an amateur blowjob and a couple of good tight-pussy fucks.  

Besides, a couple of new classes would be starting up in a week and there would be a lot of new recruits... I hoped.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Lesson Two

A couple of days after her first photography lesson Debbie called me asking for another session.
We arranged to have her come visit me at 5PM the following evening.

She was prompt and dressed well for her lesson although she had left her camera in the car.

She was wearing a dark brown miniskirt, a cream colored sleeveless blouse, and sandals.  She wore little makeup other than a neutral lipstick.  She smelled shower fresh as I pressed her back against the closed front door.
"Do you remember where the bedroom is?"
"Yes," she said.
"On your way there take off an article of clothing every few steps.  Make sure you have nothing on when you get to the bedroom."
"ok."

I stepped back and watched her move towards the bedroom.  First she slipped off her sandals.  Next she slid off her little bit of a skirt.  A few steps later the blouse was tossed onto a chair and she looked back over her shoulder at me.
"Everything?"
I nodded.  She unhooked her ivory colored bra, flipped it onto the couch and finally, at the door to the bedroom, she dropped her matching panties and left them on the floor as she stepped into the bedroom.

She was standing next to the bed when I entered the room.  I pushed the pillows together, got on the bed, and stretched out in jeans and a t-shirt-- no boots or socks.  I had her lie on top of me with back up against me.  We maneuvered around until I could get my right hand on her pussy.  I fingered her as her ass pushed against the hard cock in my pants.  My left hand reached around and found her left breast.  She was wet in moments.  She came, loudly, not long after.

I rolled her off of me and got out of the bed.  She watched as I pulled off my t-shirt and took off my jeans and underwear.  I rolled a rubber on to my hard dick, got between her spread legs, and pushed into her.  She was so tight I had to talk her into relaxing.  I was afraid I would get soft trying to get her to loosen up.  But, very soon I was able to get all the way in and Debbie got fucked for the first time in her life.