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It’s funny to be writing a whole story about a girl who only said about six words to me. Her words weren’t even that friendly. ‘What are you waiting for, an invitation?’ Actually pretty hostile.
I’d just finished the shopping. It was Sunday, and my wife had our two kids. One 14 months and the other 3 years, so both a bit of a handful, and I needed the break. I hate shopping any time, but shopping with kids – that’s hell. A few hours without them, or any marital nagging, is bliss. It just shows you it’s all about your reference points. Because a few years ago, about three to be exact, I’d have laughed if you’d told me I’d volunteer to be out gathering.
I’d just got the food into the car and the car on the road. And I hate it when people go slow at traffic lights. I was just five cars back from the lights. And this car in front of me was obviously in no hurry. Some black hatchback from a pizza shop. Not a chain one, something like Capers Pizza or Pizza Caper, in orange on the black paint. A few dings, the kind you get when you back into a pole or a street sign. I had plenty of time to look at it because when the lights went green they edged off super relaxed. At orange, instead of pushing through, they just cruised up and stopped. Five cars back and I didn’t make it through the lights. I hate that – it’s so damn inconsiderate.
When I rolled up behind them I gave them the glare. I’ve always wondered about how you can see the driver behind but not the driver in front through their rear-view. I was sure they were looking at me though. My death stare could have cut through their back windshield.
Then I saw about half her face in the side mirror. She was leaning on her hand, and one eye, her nose and part of her mouth were reflected back at me. She had very dark hair, hard to differentiate from the dark part of the mirror. But the contrast of her dark eyes and lips on her pale skin made it pretty easy to see her expressions.
She was lazily surveying me. Almost disinterested, but still, clearly sizing me up. I was probably still glaring but she didn’t give a damn. Just raised her eyebrows, as if to say like ‘what?’ I must have changed my expression, she seemed to know I was looking at her. She just kept watching me.
Then all of a sudden she looks like she just made up her mind. I don’t know how I could tell that, but I could. And she gives me this gesture. Like one eyebrow raised, and maybe a bit of head tick towards the car, like ‘you interested?’ Now that threw me.
‘Like with you?’ ‘Me?’ She sorta shrugged. And I thought about it. And a bit more. And I nodded, slowly. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.
She gestured with her head towards her car again. I guess that meant ‘sure’, or I hope it did. Because when the lights went green, instead of turning towards my house I kept going behind her.
She was a pretty lazy driver too. No trouble to keep up. We wound our way out of the city centre into the suburbs and down a few wide streets into that newly developed part of town. All can-turf lawns. Very young street trees. Squarish-grey-bock houses in these miniature yards. I couldn’t ever find her house again, they all look the same. She turned into her driveway and I edged in right behind her.
I waited until she got out. She only looked back at me once, then walked to the front door and opened it. I swear with her smart looks and dark cotton summer dress she could have been in a real-estate ad.
Then she held the screed door open, waiting. It was tense in my car. I took a deep breath. This isn’t my every day. But who gets a chance like this every day? I got out of the car and went in.
Now, when I was driving behind her I was thinking this over, and you can’t wait. If you wait, awkwardness sets in. And what do you think istanbul escort she’s going to do, offer you a drink? Where’re going from there? Meet the parents? I don’t think so. That’s game over. So I didn’t let it happen.
I came through the door she was holding open. Then there was that pause I was just talking about. But I cut it off in half a second. I just went straight up and kissed her. Right on the mouth. Ferocious. Then we just went for it. Our lips mushing and slurping. It was pretty intense. I even tried some of that lapping you see in porn movies. Then a bit of tongue flicking, the trip of my tongue literally battling hers. I might have been putting it on too hard because she slowed down and bit my bottom lip. It wasn’t too hard but it stopped me. Enough pressure for her to pull it out a little and look me in the eyes.
We were staring straight at each other. Pale cream skin. Aroused red lips. A frame of jet back hair to her shoulders and jet black eyebrows above her eyes. I don’t know what she saw in mine, but I saw the abyss in hers. Ready to throw it all away. And there was such an intensity in them. Wide and shiny.
The moment broke. She let go of my lip and I turned her around. Both her hands on the wall in front. I knocked the door closed with my foot and knelt down, running my hands down from her hips, across her bottom and to the end of her dress. I hiked it up around her waist. She was wearing stockings, not those thigh high ones, but the ones that come right up. And over the top she had on a pair of lacy back panties. Now I don’t get that, having the underpants on the outside, but its only something I’ve really thought about afterwards. At that moment I didn’t really care – I just took the straight down to the floor.
I got back up and put my hands on her waist and ran them down to her hips. I kept going down her stockings with the back of my hands, so they wouldn’t catch on my palms. Down her taught outer thighs, to the back of her knees, down her calves, to the top of her shoes. The texture was that heat you get with nylon, and full of static. I have this image of her shoes. Black patent leather. Just a little heal with a round toe and a simple ornamental buckle. Set off by being draped in her black lacy panties, complete with a shiny snail down the middle of them.
I ran my hands back up again, this time with both thumbs running up the inside of her legs. The stockings were catching a little, but not enough to stop me. I wasn’t worried about making ladders anyway.
When I got to that delicate little bit where her butt met her legs, that sort of overhang, I reached into the fabric with my thumbs. I could feel the heat in there and see the camel toe shape when I stretched her stockings. With it outlined I moved my thumbs up so that they indented between each lip and pressed them in until the stockings gave way.
It was moist. I didn’t go in too far, not past the first joint. Really just enough to put a hole in the nylon. Then I stretched it out and ripped a hole that exposed everything between both cheeks. She was beautiful. Not a hair until the very top, and then only a nick of a jet black landing strip. All creamy white skin. And so smooth.
I got those thumbs back in there again. Just the tips, my whole hands cupping the flesh on each side. She was pretty firm where the fingers squeezed into her buttock, soft where my palms met her thighs, and yielding where my thumbs dipped into her. I had to take a breath and savour the sensations.
Then I stretched her open. Spread her apart. And such a contrast. The vivid living red of her opening against that milk white skin. Parts of both shiny with her juice. Just focus on that image – its something I’ll never forget.
I started licking just below the istanbul escort bayan landing strip. Straight in there, lapping at her clit. I know it’s not best practice but I could basically feel my tongue itching to rub against that little nub. I hadn’t seen it yet but I could feel it. Raisin sized and still soft. I licked down each side, tasting her. She was pretty sweet, sweater than her smell. Deeply aromatic but alkali.
I kept going and it just kept getting stickier. I was running my tongue around the outside of her stretched opening. Then I went in, to the hilt so to speak. It was a little bitter to taste, but I put my tongue so far that my teeth were mashing around the outside of her entrance. My nose was right up nudging her little rear bud. It was a beautiful thing on its own, puckered and only a shade darker, say strawberry milk. Ok, maybe more like caramel mixed with strawberry, but it was a beautiful tight little thing. I was pretty tempted to keep going up there, but I don’t think you should push your luck with someone you’ve only known what, five minutes?
I pulled out again to take my bearings. Those round orbs of her cheeks in my hands, that pink gash. I went in again, pushing her arse up so that she arched her back towards the floor and the top of her slit was a bit more accessible. She wasn’t very vocal. In fact, not a word or sound so far, so I went for what I like to call the toothless tiger. I puckered up my lips and sucked her clit in. And I sucked and sucked, getting it all filled up with blood. I sucked until it was engorged, a bit more like a cherry, less of a raisin. Then I started to flick it with my tongue.
She moved pretty strong. Shivering and panting. A bit erratic, the panting. If she weren’t pushing back into my face so hard I’d have thought she wasn’t into it. As it was, I had to keep a pretty good hold to keep going. She was pushing backward and swaying in such aggressive little thrusts.
I gave it to her until I thought she couldn’t last much longer. Besides, I was fired up. You can only imagine. I stood up and unzipped, dragging it out. She didn’t change posture so I stooped down to get my length below her and then hooked the tip into her. It was so warm. And wet. As I very slowly stood up I went into her. That hot, wet feeling on my head, then a soaking, clenching feeling creeping down my shaft as I slowly impaled her.
When I got about half an inch from the end I got a surprise – I bottomed out. I’m not that big. I always thought just a pinch over regular. So I guess she must have been shallow. She was a small girl, and so tight. I felt like I could feel that soft bulge of her cervix against the slit in my cock. I rubbed it around and I was pretty sure that I was at the end of her. And with almost half an inch to go!
I didn’t want to hurt her so I pulled back, slowly like. And then put it in her again, to about the same. This time she grunted. It wasn’t a girly noise. It was deep, primal, from the back of the throat. I plunged in again and got another throaty “uggh”. With each stroke she seemed to get a bit loader. “Ugh, Ughh, UGhh, UGHH”.
I couldn’t help it. Pretty soon I was putting it all in. I could feel her at the end, but she wasn’t complaining. And I needed to feel her all the way to the base. It’s a thing I have, I just can’t be satisfied if anything is left out. I need to feel the whole shaft enclosed, right up to the join. It didn’t take long for the juices to start creeping down my sack, and every time I went in I was getting a satisfying slap from her arse and a thud from her elbows against the wall.
She was having more and more trouble keeping straight and bracing for each thrust. It was like she was sagging. Loosing control. Her head was bent down to the right and escort istanbul she seemed to be looking back at me underneath. Watching me mount her.
Then I felt something down there, around where I was pummelling her. She’s dropped a hand down and was supporting herself with just one arm against the wall. Then I remembered her clit. I’d gotten so absorbed I’d forgotten to put any work in. So I figured she was just reaching down to sort herself out.
I was wrong about that. She was up to something that was pretty new to me. What she was doing was feeling us. She started to explore herself as I was pounding in and out. Her fingers went probing, right around her slit, touching me, letting me slide between her fingers. At first just dipping in around the edges. Then sometime she’d shove one right in there, making it so tight I almost lost my stride. She was still grunting too, making a hell of a noise.
She kept it up for quite a while, feeling around the soft edges of her lips. Feeling me hard inside her, then stretching herself out a bit by plunging a finger in with me. Eventually she started to work two in, sort either side of my shaft. I didn’t know how that was going to go. She was so tight already. Her palm was facing up towards her and her fingers were curled so tightly I only noticed them at her entrance. Lucky she was so wet or it would have been rough work. Her so tight and her fingers crammed in there with me. As it was, she was literally leaking onto the carpet and all down her stockings.
Then she started to shake and I had to hold her up to keep going. She’d given up on the wall and totally lost control. Her knees were weak and she was flooding me with warm and wet juices, along with the most satisfying shudders from her pussy. I had to grab hold of her somewhere to keep her up, so I slid my arms up her dress from behind and grabbed hold of her breasts. They were less than a handful, but firm.
She was going all over the place with her shaking. I got hold of her little nipples and hung on as best I could. It ended up pretty rough play, but she was going wild. Her fingers still stuffed in there with me and her other hand playing some kind of havoc on her clit. Me, hanging on to her nipples for dear life, stretching out her breasts, rolling them around in between my thumbs like a pair of unripe olives.
Obviously I couldn’t hold myself forever. I started to cum. It felt like squirt after squirt. She couldn’t keep going either and we finished more or less together. Her, head down, shaking, grunting and panting. Me, holding her up with my elbows under her belly and my hands clamped to her tits. I kept on squirting up there until I was empty, thrust after thrust.
When she got her breath back she started to get off me, pushing my hands away. She had to raise up on tiptoes and sort of pull herself off. I sprung out with a pretty big spray of what I’d put up her, most of which ended on the carpet and down the back of her thighs.
I picked up her underpants from the floor and wiped myself off. When I was finished I noticed she’d turned around and was watching me. I offered them to her, you know, to clean up with. She give me this look. I think they call it distain. But she took them to wipe up her thigh and crack. She was so soaked she only really cleaned the obvious gobs of cum off. Her stockings weren’t for keeping anyway.
When she’d finished she straightened out her dress and looked me dead in the eye. I guess I was kinda just standing there watching her wipe up. I still had my wilting cock hanging out of my pants. And that’s when she gave me her line. Just cocked her head a little and said to me, totally deadpan:
‘What are you waiting for, an invitation?’
Then she gestured at the door with her head.
Well, I knew my part was done. No second helpings. No desert. I stuffed it all back in and zipped up, trying to leave with as much dignity as I could muster. She held the screen door open for me as out I went. All I can tell you the kid’s baby wipes came in pretty handy cleaning myself on the way home.
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