It bothered Jo that she should feel this way about them.  For apart from their color—the Whites were black—they fit the neighborhood quite well.  Perhaps, for their five-bedroom house was large, their cars expensive, they would have made an even better fit in a more upscale neighborhood—a Bel Air rather than a Brentwood, a Flintridge rather than a La Canada, an Anaheim Hills rather than an Anaheim.

          Not that she had any aspirations of her own to move further up the ladder.  Her house was perfect—thank you very much—it sat on a third-of-an acre lot—and now that her husband was gone and her daughter away at college, it was just a bit more than she could handle.

          Mr. White—she did not yet know his first name—drove a huge Lincoln—a realtor's car, and Jo surmised that he owned his own business.  He was often away for days at a time and whenever his car turned up in his driveway, he would be on the cell phone in a conversation that often went on long after he was parked.

          Marge White drove a sporty two-seater Mercedes.  The car looked small on her, for she was a big woman, broad tipped, and ample bosomed. "I's a big woman all over," she said once in a put-on ghetto accent for she normally spoke perfect English.

          The Whites had their groceries delivered for the most part; Jo always went to the store herself. She'd done so even when her husband was alive, and now, of course, she couldn't afford to do anything else.

          Jo loved her own house with its backyard pool, though the daily cleaning the pool required could be a chore.  The Whites had both a terraced outdoor pool and an indoor swim-in-place.  She could occasionally glimpse shadowy figures through the frosted glass.

          The Whites had a 14 or 15-year-old son named Noble who went to the local high school.  At least, she supposed he did.  The boy didn't seem to have made any friends yet, so she couldn't be sure whether he was in high school or middle school.

          There was a second son, also, much older, who put in the occasional rare appearance, usually in a full-dress army uniform.

          He could have been Mrs. White's brother, of course, rather than her son.  Jo really didn't have any way of knowing.  In fact, given the number of months the Whites had lived next door to her, it was amazing how little she knew about them.

          This bothered her.  She knew all her other neighbors but not the Whites.  She wasn't a racist, she knew that.  She'd gone to school with Hispanics and although she hadn't actually dated any of them, they'd been friends.

          No, her not knowing them was simply another part of the grief process, her almost-complete withdrawal from society after her husband’s death.  This was a pity, for she was still a relatively young woman albeit one with a college age daughter, and her body still firm and desirable was simply going to waste. 

          The time came—it was inevitable that it would--when she and Mrs. White pulled into their driveways one morning at almost the same moment.  When Jo got out of the car to carry her groceries in the house, there was Mrs. White to give her a hand. And from then on it was Marge and Jo.

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Chapter 2

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The Whites had not been well-to-do long, Marge confided.  But they had been moving steadily upward during the past decade.  "It's the Internet.  Joe doesn't understand how it works or even how to hook up our own computer, but he's really made it pay off for us."

          Jo wasn't sure just how the Internet had paid off for the Whites or what it was they sold exactly.  But she knew it had made Marge very happy.  The White's house was the proof.  "Each of our houses has been bigger and better.  And the neighborhoods.  This is such a wonderful place to live.  And the schools are excellent." 

          Thus it was that Jo learned the names of the White's two sons, Noble the youngest who lived at home and had just started high school, and Ronald who had graduated and was in the Marines.

          She also started to meet Marge's friends, most of whom were left over from the previous neighborhoods in which the Whites had lived.  An older friend Millie, a cousin of Marge’s, was a frequent visitor along with two of her friends whose names Jo learned and as quickly forgot.  Another regular caller was Velma, a younger woman, with a truly startling bosom, "False," Marge confided, "She gets them bigger every year."

          Marge was quick to confide in Jo although Jo was not sure she wanted to hear all that Marge had to relate.  Millie was post-menopausal, had hot flashes, and a husband who was demanding as ever.  Marge's own husband had moods; he was also, Marge suggested, uncaring, "he wants oral sex and forgets about me."  But, "he was a very good provider," and Jo gathered that in Marge's view this was what really counted.  "Besides," Marge's said with put-on accent, "They's plenty of younger mens who likes big titties" and shook her giant bosoms by way of illustration.

          To Jo's relief, Marge did not demand equal confidences in return.  Jo did not want to discuss her own sex life, which had been virtually non-existent since her husband's death.

          In truth, it had been non-existent unless one counted the deputy sheriff who had informed her of her husband's accident.  He'd come back later, held Jo in his arms, stroked her hair, played with her bosoms, and although she'd had an orgasm as they stood for what had seemed an hour in her living-room, pressed against one another, at the last moment she'd asked him to leave.  Since then, nothing.

          "She needs to be milked," Jo had overheard Millie say of her.  And it was probably true.  Jo missed the loving attention her late husband had given to each of her small breasts.

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Chapter 3

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Marge swam in Jo's pool. And Jo swam in Marge's.

          Occasionally, Marge would swim nude in the indoor pool, not when the children were there of course, but Jo couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

          "What if your son comes home?"

          "Oh poo, look at the clock."

          Marge had a beautiful body, not fat as Jo had first surmised but big-boned, ample, all the bosom a man could ask for and perhaps a tad more.  And hips, Marge said, broad enough to guarantee a man would not fall off.  Jo couldn't recall a man ever falling off her own and giggled.

          In the afternoons, Marge would often have friends over to play whist.  At first, Jo, who had absolutely no idea what the game was about would just watch.  Then she was persuaded to play a few hands, "at least until Millie shows up."

          And then, abruptly, she was a regular at the table, and both the cards and money in front of her were hers.

          Innocent and innocuous though the penny per point game of whist seemed, somehow, one afternoon, Jo had lost two hundred dollars.

          "Don't worry," Marge assured her. "I took care of it."

          "But you can't," Jo stammered, "Two hundred dollars.  That's too much.  I'll pay you back."

          "Don't be silly.  You don't owe me anything.  Besides, I got you into the game.  Anyway, the money didn't come out of my pocket.  I simply explained to everyone that this was your first time and it would be unfair to take advantage of you."

          Relief swept through her. "It was my first time."

          Marge laughed. "You do owe me a favor, though."

          "Anything," Jo said.  She was immensely grateful, pleased a debt she could not afford had been so easily swept away.

          "I want you to go out with my son."

          "Marshall?" Jo thought that was the name of the son that served in the army.

          "No, Noble.  Now don't give me that strange look.  He's at the age where he should be dating girls, but he's too shy.  Doesn't know how to ask them, and when I tell him how easy it is, he'll say, 'Where shall I take them and what if I don't do the right thing?'.

          "You know how it is, you had teenagers."

          "Girls," said Jo, "But I do understand."

          "I want him to take you to a movie.” 

          "But why me?  I mean surely one of your friends."  Jo realized she’d almost said, one of your African-American friends, and blushed.

          "You mean one of my colored friends? Don't apologize.” She added when Jo continued blushing.  “There's something you should know and that's the reason I chose you.

          “Follow me."  Marge led the way down a long hallway to her son's room.  It was everything to be expected of a teenager's bedroom though perhaps neater than most.  A desk, a rug, a bed. A poster of Puff Daddy on the door and one of Kobe Bryant above the desk. A closet whose door closed and locked, Jo hoped, so the boy could at least have some area that could be considered private.

          A bureau held a series of trophies.  Noble must be some kind of athlete.  One for Little League, one for soccer, but most were for basketball.

          Photos were also taped to the wall about the bed, candid snaps rather than the staged photographs on the wall above the bureau.  "Take a look at these," Marge said with a wave of her hand. 

          Each and every photograph was of Jo, snipping roses, collecting mail, or simply walking into her house grocery bags in hand.

          Most of the snapshots were in side view revealing a bust that Jo had never realized she possessed.  Her breasts filled a B-cup at best, had filled out to a C only once late in her last pregnancy.  Not more than a mouthful.

          Marsha saw where Jo was looking.  "I loved breast feeding," she said, "I hope you did too.

          "Noble and Marshall were both rabid feeders.  My husband does his best, but it's not quite the same. I'm always having to shout, 'Suck harder.'”

          Jo blushed, remembering.  She still couldn't believe how casual Marsha and her black friends were about sex.  Sexual references and stories had occupied most of the conversation at the whist table.

          Breast-feeding was wonderful. And it had been a long time, even since her husband had.  If the truth were to be told and Jo certainly wasn't about to tell Marge, the first time she'd ever had an orgasm was while someone was fondling her breasts.

          "You're blushing," Marge said.  "Us black folk blush, too, it just doesn't show up as easy."

          They both laughed at this and until Marge gave her a call almost a week later, she'd almost forgotten about her promise to go out with Marge's son.

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Chapter 4

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"That dress won't do," Marge said and Jo was somewhat offended. 

          Jo thought the clothes she'd selected for the finally to-be-realized date with Noble were ideal.  The baggy dark black ribbed sweater that fell to just below the hips of a stylish gray long skirt was both conservative as befit an older woman and flattering to her figure as befit a female who was really not all that old.

          As Marge led Jo into what Marge called her sewing room, she said, "I want my son to think of you as a woman not a mother."

          "Too conservative?"

          "Exactly."

          Marge reached into a pile of folded clothes and pulled out a gray cardigan.  Try this on instead, she said.

          "It looks even more ... "

          "Try it on."

          Jo changed clothes, feeling uneasy particularly as the cardigan was a good deal smaller and tighter than she felt comfortable with.

          "It's the bra," Marge said. "Look in the mirror."

          Marge was right.  The cross-your-heart brassiere that had gone well with the baggy sweater had stretched the cardigan out of proportion.  "Slip it off," Marge said, "I'll get you another one.

          "No, don't take off the sweater, there isn't time."  Jo wriggled like a contortionist slipping the bra off one shoulder and down the other and out a sleeve.  Removing, then replacing the sweater, she thought would have been far less time consuming. Or had Marge simply wanted to watch her struggle.

          An adolescent wail sounded from the hallway, and Marge slipped out of the room.  "I'll kill him."

           Apparently, Noble did not want to wear a jacket and was being told in no uncertain terms that he would wear the clothes his mother has laid out for him or else. This went a long way to explaining why Marge was so pushy; she was used to ordering men, a husband and two sons, around.

          What Jo saw in the long vertical mirror opposite the sewing table while waiting for Marge to return was not at all reassuring.  The sweater was the right length and its color went well with the gray of the skirt, but it was far too tight and without a bra was not much better than going topless.

          "Time to go," Marge said almost the instant she re-entered the room.  "Leave the boy alone for another minute and he'll either faint with fright or get his clothes dirty."

          Jo couldn't believe Marge was serious about leaving. She was far from ready to go out.  Where was the brassier Marge had gone to fetch?  She gestured toward the mirror. Marge looked at the mirror, looked back at her, and then gave a shrug, "So?"

          "My nipples are showing."  And indeed Jo's nipples were standing upright like soldiers eager to leap forth from concealment.

          "Oh pooh, you can handle it and him, too." was Marge's only comment. "He's going to learn to be a gentleman."   And so braless, Jo went off with Noble on his (and her) first date.

          Noble had said virtually nothing to her after a simple mumbled greeting in Marge's living-room so that she'd been forced to make most if not all of the conversation.  He’d held the door open for her, and then, once outside the house, he'd started to run across the grass toward her car, stopped, as if suddenly remembering the instructions he'd received from his mother, and returned to walk sedately by Jo's side.

          To her surprise, he waited by her car door till she was within, and only then dashed around to the passenger door.  He was every inch a young pup who'd received one too many instructions.  Not quite sure of all he'd learned, but desperate to please his mistress with what he did remember.

          Jo wanted to laugh, but of course she couldn't, not without offending him.  Instead, she gave what she hoped was a motherly smile.

          Once underway, Noble quieted and again all efforts at conversation were left to Jo. His fingers reached out once for the radio, till remembering whose car it was and the instructions he'd been given, they dropped back frustrated in his lap.

          "Would you like me to turn on the radio?"

          "No mam, no Mrs. Turner."

          And it was no mam and yes mam to virtually all other questions including "do you like school?" and "what's your favorite sport?."

          Occasionally, Noble would run a finger along his neck under his collar and tie—yes, he wore a tie—but he sat still, almost rigid for the most part.

          When she glanced over at him, he would usually be staring straight ahead, though once, she was sure, he'd been staring sidelong at her.  At the same view that was in his photographs, although with, she realized blushing, a little more nipple showing.

          The theater was a multiplex . This meant they had to go through a series of "what would you like to see?" "It doesn't matter, whatever you like." "No, you choose."  In the end she'd named a picture she'd thought would please him. As it turned out, he wasn't sure that was the movie he'd bought tickets for or, later, if the movie for which he'd bought tickets was the one they actually saw.

          He was very very nervous.  His only moment of take charge, one which reminded her curiously of his mother, was at the refreshment stand when without consulting her he bought two large 7-Ups—no problem, she liked 7-Up—and a large, no, a gigantic bucket of popcorn.

          The bucket of popcorn, she could tell once they sat down, hid a marked erection.

          He was so cute, yet so terrifying at the same time.  What could one say to a boy that age that would put him at his ease? While they watched the previews, she thanked him for the popcorn, sipped her drink, and gave him several bright smiles.

          Twice she caught him looking at her breasts, but that was to be expected, what with the tight sweater Marge had given her to wear and no bra.

          Because he'd been so shy before, had been so inarticulate, the hand that reached up in the darkness after the lights went down in the theatre and touched her chest was all the more surprising.

          Of course, she was partly to blame.  She'd followed Marsha's instructions to some extent, letting her breast "accidentally" come in contact with his arm, taking his hand and touching his knee him each time there was an exchange of popcorn.  But still the hand on her breast was unexpected.

          Even more unexpected were the fingers that had grasped and begun to stroke her right nipple.  She ought to tell him to stop but the sensation was so pleasurable, the strokes and tugs were so gentle that she simply gave way to it.

          What was showing on the screen was a blur.  She looked up and down and to the side, but when once she looked at him, he was staring back with such intensity that she had to look away.

          At some point, the hand had gone beneath the sweater and had begun to explore each breast in turn.  His other hand had ventured once onto her thigh, but she'd grabbed his wrist before his hand could go further had gripped it tightly while she had the first of her orgasms and heard him give a cry of pain.

          She'd had one and perhaps several orgasms by the time the lights went up and the film was over.  I hope nobody asks me what the film was about, she thought inanely, because I don't remember anything.

          What do you say to someone who is fourteen or fifteen who has taken you on a first date and given you more pleasure than you'd had in a almost a year, more pleasure then you ought to have let him give you on a seventh or eighth date?  "Are you fourteen or fifteen?" she asked.

          "I'm almost fifteen," he said.

           Of course, he was in high school not middle school; he'd told her earlier.  Then they were walking up the aisle, across the lobby and into the fresh air. "It was a great picture," he said, "I liked it a lot."  Then, as if once again remembering instructions he'd been given, he added, "Thank you for coming with me."

          They sat quietly in the car for a few moments, before she remembered to reach down and turn the key.  Before she could complete the action, he leaned toward her across the seat as if to kiss her. Quickly, she leaned away.  Kissing wouldn't do at all, would only present the wrong message.  But her lips had never been his intention.  And retreating so that her head was back against the car door had only placed the real targets more firmly in his reach.  It took only half a second for him to lift her sweater and his thick lips to engulf her turgid nipple.

          The feeling was wonderful and it was all wrong.  It went on for several minutes, five, ten, before the sucking ceased momentarily.

          In between, she'd resisted several attempts to have her place her hand in his lap but finally, worn down from the struggle she let her hand lay where he'd placed it.

          His pants were damp; obviously, he'd already come once with excitement.

          Her own crotch was damp and sticky. She wasn't sure how much more she could take of his form of lovemaking.

          His sucking was so frenzied, just as his mother had described, that after awhile she asked him to wait.  "My breast hurts," she said, and carefully transferred his attention to her other nipple.  She held his head there for several moments, her hand gently cradling his neck.

          "Finish me," he said.

          She looked down at him puzzled. "I'm sorry," she said, "You'll have to stop; it's really beginning to hurt.  Both of them.  I'm out of practice."

          "But I haven't come yet. I'm almost there."  She could hear him unzipping but did not want to look down.  She could imagine his penis though, big and black and throbbing.  The next moment his big dick was in her hand and she was stroking it up and down as he'd requested.

          It took only seconds before his cum filled her hand and began to drip from her arm.  "Wait," he said and got out the handkerchief his mother had so obviously ironed and folded so he might look impressive on his date.  He carefully dried her hand with the handkerchief, and then, unexpectedly, took the cum he'd gathered and held it to her lips. She tried to back away, but he separated her lips and poked the cloth inside. She licked the cum from the cloth as was his intention, then remained passive as he cleaned her arm and again brought the handkerchief to her mouth. Again she sucked the drops from the cloth.

          "I've still got some 7-up left," he said.  "Do you want it?"

          She nodded and rinsed her mouth.  "Why did you do that with the cloth?" she asked.

          "My Dad told me girls really like it.  Did you like it?"

          She could tell he was eager to have her say that he did and would be disappointed if she were to say anything else. The fact was that she did like it and had missed the taste.  She couldn't believe that at one and the same time, she was worrying about whether any had spilled on the sweater (which she would have to return—where had Marge got such a small sweater from?) and how she wanted to take his penis in her mouth and suck the last few drops from its tip, though by now his penis was sure to be shriveled and small.

           The parking lot grew dark suddenly as the lights of the movie theater were extinguished.  She could see the last of the theater employees exiting the now-darkened theater.

          "Are we goin t'go," he asked from the seat beside her. His voice was firm and controlled, no longer hesitant and unsure of itself.

          She gave a half-ashamed smile and started the car. "I'll take you home." He reached over before tightening his safety belt and gave her a peck on the cheek.  Something he must have seen his father do. And then they left the lot.

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Back to the original point. I met Brenda (not her real name) while going shopping with my girl friend and her mom. We had driven to Burbank to a tropical fish shop that they frequented. As soon as I walked in the door and laid eyes on this vision of loveliness, I was hooked. The girl behind the counter was absolutely beautiful. Now, so you get the picture, I have always had a system for women and girls. There is, not so good looking. Cute. Pretty. Beautiful and Gorgeous. There have been very few gorgeous women I have seen and fewer I have met in my fifty plus years. Many women that I thought were in that category, when I saw them on film or in a magazine, were actually down one or two notches in real life. It is amazing what a make up artist can do. So here I am face to face with a real beauty in the flesh.

I will try to describe her from memory. Remember this took place over thirty years ago, but she is burned into my memory banks. She was in her early twenties. Five feet six or seven. Long brown hair that framed her sexy face. Brown eyes that sparkled. A smile that made me hard every time. She had a sexy voice that I could listen to for hours. She had a full figure which I found out later was from a recent birth of her first baby. I'm sure she had lots more unless she took precautions, because she was sure to attract men for years to come. She had an infectous laugh which I made sure she shared with me often. I love to hear a woman laugh and enjoy herself. She had a big set of tits, no doubt from breast feeding her little one. She also had a very full butt that begged to be played with. I like a nice round, full, squeezable butt. In fact I love a curvy woman. You should see my wife. Curvy baby!! Think of a young Valerie Bertonelli from TV and you get an idea of what she looked like. Beautiful and very sexy. And as I would find out later, very horny.

As my girl and her mom checked out the fish, I checked out the fish store girl. I decided I was going to try to see if she might be available. I didn't have to worry about my girl getting jealous. Her only disappointment was she never got a shot at the fish store girl. Or maybe she did and she never told me. She did say she was very beautiful and that I should try and "get her". You see my girlfriend was in the habit of sharing me with her friends. Mostly with her best friend who was also four fooot eleven and very curvy. Except for their hair, they could have been body twins. So here I was asking all kinds of questions about fish. The more I showed an interest in fish and fish tanks and the like, the more Brenda showed and interest in me. At first I thought she only saw me as a dollar sign. But as time went by I saw the telltale signs of feminine interest. I never missed those signs and I wasn't about to let this one off the hook. As the "girls" decided what kind of fish to add to the tank and the horse trough feeder fish. I was trying to reel in a beauty of my own.

I found out she was separated from her husband. What a jerk is all I can say. Something about marrying to young or some other crap. If he never got back together with her, he was an idiot. I wish sometimes that I had never let her out of my life. She made me happy in so many ways. But then again I wouldn't have met my wife and that is a fairy tale come true. So all things happen for a time and reason. Before we left the store I was sure she was into me. The next week I made a trip to Burbank alone. I found Brenda working alone is the store and she really smiled big when she saw me walk in. I talked to her about a fish I really liked and wanted to buy. A "Ciditrophis Trideniger" (not sure of spelling) from lake "Tanyanekee" (spelling?) in Africa. Then I asked her if I could buy her a drink when she got off work. At first she said she didn't think so and I thought I had misread her interest. Then she made a phone call and told me she would love to have a drink with me when she got off. But she would have to make it a short one as she needed to get home to her baby. I met her at the restaurant bar she perferred and we had a wonderful time. I was really interested in seeing what she was like if I could get her alone. Somehow I must have sensed she would be very passionate in bed.

A month or so later I had bought the fish and a tank. Two weeks later the fish died. I played it big and she responded well. I was able to convince her that, only if she came to my place and allowed me to serve her dinner, would she make my fish disaster right. What a line. She probably saw right through my lame story but I would later find out she was as hot for me as I was for her. Dinner was good and she was a delight in private. After dinner she asked to use the bathroom before she headed home. I was so hot for her by now I had to take a chance. So while she was in the bathroom I stroked myself to full erection and waited for her to come out. As she emerged I took her in my arms and kissed her. She was an amazing kisser. Her passion for kissing was matched by her passion for fucking. As I kissed her I took her hand and placed it on my pants and erect cock. She moaned in my mouth. I knew I was about to see what this woman could do in my bedroom. I led her into the bedroom and began to undress her. I remember she was very white skinned like she had never seen the sun. Alabaster skin that was so soft I felt like I was caressing a babys skin. She had very big breasts. DD or bigger but she wasn't lactating. Her hips were wide and she had a very sexy gap between her legs that allowed me to see her puffy pussy lips while she was standing there letting me admire her body. I was not prepared for the woman I had brought into my bedroom.

She was very passsionate and very verbal. From the very beginning she let me know what she wanted and how she wanted it. She would moan and say "yes", "yes", whenever I did something she liked. If I tried to move on to another part of her body and she wasn't ready for me to leave, she would grap my head and say "don't stop that". I was smart enough to follow her lead. Even though we were about the same age I could tell she had more experience in passionate love making than I did. I knew how to fuck. She knew how to make love. And she proved to be a very good teacher. As I licked and sucked my way around her body she would constantly shout out words of encouragement and words of passion. Shouting is the operative word here. Her moans and nasty words were flowing out of her and they were in stark contrast to her very proper and innocent demeanor. She was a lady in public and a whore in bed. Perfect! I had been licking her pussy for a while when she suddenly begged me to "stick that big cock in my pussy now". I slid up her body and placed my cock at her pussy. She didn't wait for me to find the mark. She grabbed my cock and put it where she obviously needed it. She then took full control and told me what to do. "Faster"! "Harder"! "Slower"! "Faster"! "Long full strokes". "Short stabbing strokes". She had me in her control and I was glad to do all she asked as I had never seen such passion from a woman before. I was spellbound and loving it. As she neared orgasm she began getting really loud, yelling "faster",  "harder", "faster", "harder", "deeper", "oh fuck yes" and more. As she came she shouted out "I'm cumming, I'm cumming" really loud and she was doing things with her pussy that I never knew were possible. I know now that she was a squirter. She completely soaked my sheets when she came. I thought she might have peed, but she did that before we went to bed. No she was a squirter and I wish I could find another one like her. It is an incredible feeling when a woman comes that completely with you. Also it felt like her pussy was milking my cock. Her muscles would tighten at the bottom and work there way to the opening and it was working. She shouted for me to "cum in her pussy" and "do it now". I obviously complied. What an orgasm. The best of my life. What a woman. I was glad I had not given up on her when the going got rough. She was worth every ounce of gasoline it had cost and all those hours spent in the store trying to win her over. Little did I know she was smitten from the beginning like I was. Only her proper upbringing had kept her from attacking me at the store itself. What a Woman indead.

As we were lying there in post orgasmic bliss, we heard a voice coming from outside my bedroom window which overlooked the pool. A male voice was imitating her saying "harder", "faster", "deeper", "oh yes, fuck me, fuck me". We couldn't help but be embarassed but at the same time we found ourselves laughing and enjoying the fact that we had just entertained the whole Saturday night pool crowd. After that night I got a lot of appreciative smiles from the guys in the complex. They were obviously impressed and probably a little jealous. The women on the other hand started giving me the cold shoulder. As if I was the only nasty one in the complex. I was just the only one who forgot to close their window before they launched into a hot fuck session. The girl next door was the worst. She had been friendly and even flirtatious before and now she looked at me with disdain and wouldn't even talk to me. I think she was mad it wasn't her that was moaning and shouting. After Brenda left, I changed the sheets and went to bed with the most satisfied feeling I had ever felt. I fell asleep thinking about the next time I would have a chance to sample her brand of passion. She was indeed the best I ever had.

In the next installment I will share my next encounter with the lucious Brenda. A New Years Eve celebration. Two couples. A drinking and stripping game and side by side fucking. Stay tuned.

P.S. Brenda, if your out there and happen to read this story, you know your real name and you know just by reading who I am. I would love to hear from you. Why not write your own story about our first encounter. Tell your side of the story so to speak. I think the readers would find it interesting to hear what you were thinking and experiencing at the time. Hope you enjoyed.

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“How about that tour”. I hear you groan as I walk back towards the front hall.Â

“Where would you like to start” you ask “Up or down”?

“Well, why don’t we start at the bottom and work our way up” I say with a coy smile and a wink.

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You walk me thru the great room at the front, point out the den and walk back thru the kitchen. I have finished my drink and walk to the sink to refill my glass with a little water before we head upstairs.

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Your hands move down my back and you grab the bottom of my sundress. As you start going down on your knees you push the sundress up to my waist. You start kissing the back of my legs and move up. Its right about now that I’m glad I made the decision to not wear any panties today. I lean forward a little over the counter and spread my legs. You can already see how wet I am. Your hands go between my legs. I’m dripping wet. I start to rub my clit for just a little while. My body is moving in motion with your hand, I grab onto the sink for support. I am so wet that your fingers just slide inside of me. It doesn’t take long and I cum almost immediately. You leave your fingers inside of me as my body shudders with an orgasm. My juices are dripping onto your hand. You pull me straight back against you so you can grab my tits. They are already out of the dress and you want to feel them, to touch them, to play with them. I grab your hand that was inside of me and put your fingers in my mouth. Mmmmm my god that tastes good. With your free hand you pull down your shorts, lift up my skirt and direct your cock into my pussy. I’m still sucking on your fingers. You take your fingers out of my mouth and put them just at the base of my neck and bend me over a little further. Your hands grab my hips as you start pounding me hard. I go between grabbing my tits and holding onto the sink for support as you fuck me harder. We are both so close. I tell you to tell me when you are about to cum. We carry on for a second when you tap my shoulder.  I push you back a little and squat on the floor in front of you. I take your cock in my hand and put it in my mouth. The whole thing right into the very back of my mouth. As I pull it out I lick and suck my juices off of you. Oh my god you taste sooo good. I reach down with my other hand and rub my clit. Come on baby, cum for me. Cum in my mouth I want to taste every last drop of you. You lean your head back and hold onto the counter behind you as cum shoot out of your cock and into the back of my throat. You let out a long deep moan as I am still sucking the last drop off. Mmmmm so good. Neither of us can barely move, and we still have the whole top floor of the house to cover ;)

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You start to lead me upstairs, but I stop.Â

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“Lets save that for later” I say “Lets go sit out on the deck by the pool for a bit”

“Ok” you say

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We grab our drinks and head out on the deck. The sun is shining, the tunes are cranked and I am ready for a dip.  I ask you if you have nosey neighbors. You tell me that the house on the left is vacant and the other house can’t see the pool from their place. Perfect! I grab the bottom of my sundress and lift if over my head. I’m as naked as the day I was born. From behind you can still see the wetness on my legs. I turn around and ask you if you are coming in. Damn right you are! You take off your shorts and dive into the water. I’m close behind. I swim underwater the length of the pool and come up in the shallow end. You have a very interesting pool; there is a sort of rocky edge to one side where water falls from above.  You push a button and the waterfall starts. I swim a few laps of the pool and swim over to you. I swim under water right up next to you and brush up against you as I come up out of the water. Water is pouring off my face as I open my eyes. It didn’t take you long to get your energy back. I think you have plans for me ;)

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You grab me by the hips and lift me up onto the edge of the pool just beside the waterfall. You spread my legs and dive in. You know how to tease me. Starting at my inner thigh and working my way close to my pussy but not actually touching me. Then back to the other side, starting at the inner thigh and working your way up and down. I am going crazy! You look up and watch as I pinch the nipples on my breasts. Even tho its warm out my body has goosebumps from the slight breeze that blows across your desk. I put one foot up on the side of the deck and scoot my bum closer to the edge, giving you a better view.  And the teasing stops, with one fast motion you lick my entire pussy. From back to front and all the way to the top, stopping only when you reach my clit to suck on it. I gasp. Fuck me that feels soooo good. Oh god please don’t stop. I sit up and watch as you spend your time nibbling, sucking and fingering my pussy.  You know I like it when you have two fingers in me. Your palm up curling your fingers to press on my gspot. Oh my god that feels so good, your face is buried in my pussy. My hands are busy playing with my tits. Heaven! Short moans escape my mouth, oh god yes… don’t stop. Your so good at that, oh god please suck me harder. Push your fingers in just a little more. I’m close to cumming. I grab onto your forearms to warn you that I’m close. You don’t flinch. Your tongue darts in and out of my pussy as I reach down with one hand to furiously rub my clit.  Oh god yes, oh god yes. I’m going to cum. I once told you that I am a squirter, I’m a little nervous if you are ready for it. You look up at me to watch my face as I cum.  Your fingers push deep inside, curling against the front wall of my pussy. You can feel my muscles start to contract as I rub my clit. Oh my god, Oh my god here it is. All of a sudden a warm rush of liquid hits your fingers. You pull them out and stick your face between my legs, lapping and sucking my juices.

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I lay back on the deck, I can't move. I can't talk. I can't do anything. That was amazing.Â

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The next thing I know your splashing me with water. I sit up, look around. Oh my god did I fall asleep? No, you said it was only out for a minute. I was just really relaxed. I laugh and slip back in the water. We play around for a bit and head back up onto the deck. Grab our drinks and have a smoke.   I don’t even think about putting my clothes back on, its so natural to just hang out with you naked. You ask me what time I would like to head out for dinner.  I turn to look at you with a bit of a scowl on my face.

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“If its ok with you I’d rather stay in”

“No problem at all” you say “I was thinking the same thing”.Â

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You get up from your chair and come sit on mine. Ask me if I would like a little sun tan lotion. I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea, burnt nipples wouldn’t make for a great end to the weekend. You squeeze the lotion into your hand and start to rub it into my skin. You start at my feet, up my calves and past my knee. I spread my legs a little. Your hands turn into my inner thighs and back out… up the side of my legs and across my belly. You pour more lotion into your hands and rub it along my arms from my fingers to my elbow, squeezing my muscles as you get closer to my shoulders. My nipples are rock hard, my pussy is swollen, begging you to touch me.  I tilt my sunglasses down to look at you.

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“Stop teasing me”.

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You giggle and grab both my breasts in your hands. Full squeeze as you massage lotion on me. Stoping to make sure you rub it onto my nipples. I spread my legs wider. Please don’t stop. Your hands don’t leave my chest. I start to move my hand between my legs but you block it.

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“Uh uh, not yet” you say “Just relax and enjoy”Â

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You lean my chair back so I’m almost laying down flat on the chair. Your hands now moving across my entire body, still not going near my pussy. I close my eyes and wait, hoping you will touch it. By this time my knees are bent and my legs are spread wide open. My pussy is so swollen there is no way you can’t see how badly I want it. God please, please touch me. I feel a cool air, look down to see you gently blowing on it.  AAhhh your driving me absolutely crazy!Â

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“Lets take the rest of the tour” you say

“WHAT” I can barely breathe.

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You grab my hand and lead me into the house. My hand slips out of your as we are both very greasy from the lotion. Its almost difficult to walk my clit is so swollen, my pussy is so wet. As we reach the stairs you move to let me walk up first.  Each time I take a step you swat my ass. Gentle playful swat but firm enough to cause a spark. As we reach the top of the stairs I can see right into your bedroom. I start to move in that direction but you try to veer me away.  That’s it. This time I’m putting my foot down.

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“Get your ass in here now” I say. “You’ve teased me long enough, I need to feel you inside of me”Â

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I grab you and push you into the bedroom. I make you lay on the bed and I straddle you. Now... its my turn. I start with gentle buttefly kisses along your body all the way down to your hips. My hands massaging your cock as I move down further and further. I let saliva drip from my mouth onto the head of your cock as I twist my hands up and down.  Mmmm yes, that it. Know you know what its like to want something and not get it. I want to tease you longer but I want to suck on you even more. I lower my head, brush my hair to the side so you can watch and take you into my mouth. MMmmm god I love this. I love feeling your throbbing cock in my mouth. Running my tongue up and down it, tracing every vein in you as my head moves up and down. Your head is propped up on the pillows watching me. After I have been down for a while I lay on top of you and slide my way up your body. My chest pressing against yours. As I reach the top of you I kiss you. Its been a while, I forgot how good you kissed.

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I straddle your body , reach behind me and grab your cock and guide it into my pussy. With both hands balancing me I sit down on top of you. Oooohhhh yes. I sit there and enjoy it, the full feeling of every inch of you inside of me. So warm, so wet and so full. God I love that. I keep my hands on your chest as I sit back up on my knees, then back down.  Up and down until we have a rhythm going. Your hands move up and grab my breasts. I lean forward and let you play with them in your mouth. I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel you filling me up inside. Oh my god don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me.  Oh god yes. As your hand grab my breasts I ride up and down. You pinch my nipples and squeeze a little harder. I moan a little louder and move a little faster. You can feel my juices dripping onto your balls. I lean back and rest my hands on your upper thighs. You look down and watch, fascinated by the sight of your cock sliding in and out of my pussy.  I reach forward with one hand and rub my clit just a little. Oh god I’m close. Oh my god I’m going to cum again. I want you to cum with me. I lean forward, back so my hair brushes against your face. I lean forward just a little more so you can suck on my nipples again. My clit is grinding hard against your pelvis. You can feel the orgasm building. I sit back down on my knees. I look at you. Â

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“Are you ready” I out of breathe.

“Yes”

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I sit up and move my hips back and forth, back and forth. At the same time we both let out the most amazing sounds as our bodies are thrown into ecstasy. I sit back down on your cock. I can feel the warmth and wetness shooting inside of me. Oh my god this is the best feeling. I lean forward so you can suck on my nipples as I cum. Oh my god. Oh my god. Holy shit this is amazing. Every sensation in my body is on fire. I don’t want to move off of you, I don’t want this feeling to stop. The orgasm is just one big wave that I’m riding as I sit on top of you.  I collapse on top of you.Â

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You hold me for a bit as our breathing tries to calm down. Your cock can still feel the inner walls of my pussy contracting around you. I think I’m still cumming.  Finally I slide off of you and lay next to you. We roll to one side, as you scoot in closer and hold me. I can feel your breathe on the back of my neck.Â

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“We need a shower” you say.

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I look into the master bathroom and see the most amazing glass shower. In my head I’m thinking of how many ways I want to fuck you in there, but my body is telling me I need a few minutes.

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“Let me rest here for a just a minute” I say. “I don’t think I can shower in there without attacking you”

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You laugh. We rest.Â

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And then………….. we shower.

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(Part 2 to follow)