Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This was going to be an entry for the Winter Festival competition, but for numerous reasons it was not possible to finish it on time. However as I liked the story I decided to finish it and submit as usual. If you enjoy reading it please vote and try reading some of my other stories.
It was Christmas 1999, five months after Annie, the love of my life, had died. I wasn’t doing widower-hood well, I was a grumpy, angry, lonely man. Pancreatic cancer is like an assassin with a stiletto – silently, unnoticed it creeps up and kills. It killed my wife so quickly that I had not had the time to come to terms with Annie having cancer before she died.
Now I had to live with all the words I wished that I had said to her. Had I really told her how much I loved her? Could I have spent longer with her. Did I have to do those things that I did during her last days – I should have spent more time with her, All those regrets haunted my waking and some of my sleeping hours. If I made myself a mug of coffee often I would brew a cup of tea for her before remembering Annie was no longer there.
I could have spent Christmas with Annie’s kids, I had the invitations but I preferred to be alone. Alone with Benjy, my dog. Every day Benjy and I would get into the camper and drive from home to the beach, five miles there and five miles home. We would park, then walk across the dunes towards the beach. These dunes are full of industrial archaeology as they were the site of what had been, a large explosives works.
Walking I would of course meet other dog walkers. Single men like myself, morosely wrapped in a world of their own. Women walking packs of dogs for the local Dog Rescue home. Other women walking other people’s dogs. And of course lone women walking their own dog. Usually we would pass one another barely saying more than a couple of words of greeting, sometimes if the dogs were off the leash and playing maybe a few more words would be exchanged, but not real social intercourse – nothing too personal.
Christmas eve, about two thirty it was cloudy, the sun already dipping to the south western horizon. Benjy was chasing over the hillocks accompanied by another lurcher. Good he’ll get a decent run, I thought. “Ally… Ally…” I heard a woman shouting. I looked about quarter of a mile away on a hill a woman stood calling. The lurcher turned and began running in the direction of the woman, Benjy turned with the other dog. I was going to call Benjy, then thought what the hell! – let him have a run. I knew Benjy was friendly towards other people and other dogs.
Slowly I walked in the same direction as the dogs had run. Both dogs were on the hill not running to the woman but running with one another. Once again I briefly pondered if I ought to get a second dog, but one dog was more than enough.
“Hi.” I heard a woman say.
I was startled. I had not realised that the woman had walked in my direction, breasting a fold of the dunes, we were suddenly less than thirty yards apart. “Oh hello.” I replied
“Ally seems to ave made friends with your dog.”
“His name’s Benjy.”
“Ally seems to have made friends with Benjy.”
“A run does them good.” I answered. By now I was scrutinising the woman, she was younger than me, I reckoned under the bulky Parka she was probably quite slim, although all togged up on a winter’s day she looked like a Michelin woman – I probably looked the same.
Her next words violated the unwritten, code of dog walkers, “shall we walk together?”
Stunned, (this was the longest dog walking conversation I had held since Annie died), I said. “May as well.”
“So I know your dog’s called Benjy, you know my dog is called Ally, and for your information my name is Sue.”
“My name is Nicholas usually shortened to Nick.”
“I’ve seen you down here quite often.”
“It is a good place to be.”
“Your always alone.”
“I’ve got the dog.”
“Not since Annie, my wife died.”
“Don’t be it wasn’t your fault.” I said a bitter tone betraying my annoyance at that phrase, my eyes were prickling – and it was not the wind.
“Sorry because I did not mean to upset you. I guess it was recent.”
“Five months ago – last July.”
“No other family.”
“No Sue no family. No one at all. What about you?”
“A husband, three kids and the dog.”
“So where are they now?”
“At home – this is ME TIME. A time for myself. Tomorrow Christmas day I will not have a minute to myself, until that is I take Ally for a walk.”
Suddenly it grew really dark and at that moment the heavens opened. This was not a shower, it was a deluge of Biblical proportions. The wind rose, driving the ice cold rain at us horizontally. Even my rainproof jacket was sodden. In moments the rain had soaked me to the skin.
As one we turned, taking the shortest route back to where everyone parked. “This wasn’t forecast,” she said.
“Some light shower.” I replied, quoting the forecast, “scattered light showers”.
“I am wet erenköy escort bayan through and freezing too,” she said.
“Your a poet and don’t know it.”
“My kids say things like that.”
We passed an old chimney and I could see the camper. “Coffee next, would you like one?”
“No I haven’t time to go anywhere, and not when I am wet like this.” She answered.
“No not going somewhere, I mean I am making the coffee in my camper.”
“Oh is that you?”
“My van yes.”
“OK I will. But I am so wet I’ll get everywhere in your van wet.”
We put both wet dogs into the cab. “This is cosy,” Sue said looking about her.
I threw a towel to her. “Take your coat off dry your hair.”
“Thank you,” she said, and commenced vigorously towelling dry her short hair. The advantage of a short cut became apparent, her hair did not look unduly untidy, if my Annie’s hair got wet really wet like Sue’s was, only a trip to her hairdresser would have put it right. I put my wet coat, T-shirt and jumper into the shower compartment. I emerged towelling myself dry – I took a clean T from a drawer. Put the kettle on the gas and turned on the heating.
“I hope I’m not being forward,” said Sue, “but could you lend me a shirt.”
I passed her a sweat shirt. Immediately she peeled off her wet fleece, top and bra. I thought my eyes must stand out like organ stops watching her towel herself dry. “Do you know what is really annoying?” She did not expect or wait for me to answer. “Even my knickers are wet and I haven’t had any fun.”
“Yes my jeans and pants are wet.” I agreed, grabbing clean jeans and pants, I changed in the shower compartment. When I emerged Sue was sitting on the settee, her wet jeans and pants on the floor, a towel around her waist.
“What’s good for the gander is good for the goose!”
I muttered an inconsequential comment and made two mugs of steaming hot coffee. The good thing about the van’s blown air heating system was the speed with which it heated the van. “Shall I hang your things so they dry?” I asked.
“No I’ll do it.” As she got to her feet the towel slipped. Now I had seen all of her body. I have not had sex since two months before Annie died. Gone completely off it, I had thought. That had changed when Sue first flashed her tits. Now she had revealed her bottom half. For the first time in months the trouser snake stirred.
I was not aware how obvious my erection was until Sue turned, looked toward my crotch and said, “Is that a canoe in your pocket or are you pleased to see me?”
“A Blackadder fan.” I responded, “I’m sorry, but yes you are very attractive.”
“Don’t be sorry. I think it is quite flattering no one has ever lusted for me or not as obviously as you are.”
“You’re an attractive woman,”
“I recommend a visit to the opticians. My tits are almost non-existent and what I have droops, I have a saggy bum and my waist is too thick.”
As we spoke I could not take my eyes from her body. True her breasts, were small but she was petite. Yes her breasts did droop a little, although her elongated teat shaped nipples made them look very interesting. Her arse was small and her belly flat, almost too flat for a woman who had carried three children. Her body is best described as androgynous. Her arresting feature, was her pubic hair. In this day and age when most women trim and shave, au natural is remarkable.
Sue had a luxuriant growth, a veritable chestnut coloured fleece, to call it a thatch would be to demean this hirsute wonder. Diamond shaped the lower point appeared to be between her legs at the sides it followed the crease where her legs and abdomen join, then came inwards to join forming a point about a half inch below her belly button. It was thick enough to groom with a brush or a comb!
“I still maintain, you are an attractive woman. Look at this!” Driven by lust I had thrown caution to the wind, I gestured toward the bulge in my jeans. “Sue this is my first spontaneous erection in five months.” She blushed, making me aware this degree of honesty might not be welcome. “I am sorry if that is too much information but it is the truth – I sort of thought that side of me had died with Annie.”
“I’m sorry, really sorry. I would love to but I can’t.”
“Don’t worry,” I replied, “I don’t want a sympathy fuck.”
“No it would not a sympathy fuck. I am really tempted. If I did it would be because I’d enjoy it. Carl, my husband is totally predictable. Don’t get me wrong, he is a hard worker, a great father, but unfortunately he is a lousy lover. Every Saturday morning he brings me breakfast in bed and after breakfast we have our weekly screw. It is so predictable I have heard the kids sniggering – they know what is going on.”
“In my experience Sunday is the usual morning.” I observed – I could not think of a response.
“Saturday is usually our day of rest, on Sundays I am always busy. So unless I am working it is Saturday for us.”
“I etiler escort bayan guess lots of couples get in a rut.” I replied – maybe Annie and I had got in a rut at times.
“Before I met Carl I had a bit of a reputation. I usually fucked on a second date, sometimes on the first. One of my tutors at college said I was an innocent fallen Angel like Mary Magdalene.” She grinned. “hat was in a fit of post coital remorse after he had fucked me. In those days my older sister called me the village bike. – She has been divorced three times since then.”
Everyone has ridden her, I finished the phrase in my head. Not at all what she looks like I thought. “We all do things when we are younger.”
“Hell yes.” I responded, “my teens were in the Sixties, Rock’n’Roll, the pill, you name it we did it, my generation invented sex. Or thought they had.”
“Would you mind not saying Hell like that.”
“Oh sure … sorry … only an expression,” I mumbled, where had that come from, one minute she uses words like fuck and the next she objects to hell! Weird or what.
“Sorry I did not intend to embarrass you,” She said. ” was about to say that I was born in the sixties, that is when my parents married, to hear my mum talking you would think no one did sex before marriage.”
“Some people didn’t but a lot did.”
“You know I am thinking for old times sake, for the excitement I want you to fuck me.”
“Fuck you or have sex with you?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Oh yes.” I replied.
“Then sex – by the tone of your voice it sounds good. This will be my first time with anyone other than Carl in fifteen years.”
“One more question before we start, how long do we have.”
She looked at her watch. “Its half three say two hours, I’ll say Ally got lost.”
She helped as I made-up the double bed. “Wow this is big!” she exclaimed.
“Just over six feet wide, six foot six long, so it is a genuine King Size.” I didn’t tell her Annie and I choose this van specifically because of the big bed. At this moment I did not want to think about Annie.
The bed made up, a snow white duvet covering the interlocking jig-saw of seat squabs and backs. Before getting on the bed she removed her watch and the gold cross and chain from around her neck, Do you have a tissue or piece of kitchen roll.”
The kitchen roll was to hand, I passed her a piece. She placed the cross and watch on the paper, fiddled with her rings and removed the gold band from her ring finger. “For the next couple of hours I don’t want reminding that I am married, or anything else about my life.” She said as she carefully folded the tissue into a package and placed it on the counter top.
Sue got on the bed and moved to the centre. She looked small and vulnerable lying on her back in the centre of that snowy plain.
I swiftly shucked off my jeans and pants, and joined her on the bed. I don’t know if she thought about her husband Carl or about her kids. I briefly thought something like, if there is an afterlife Annie will be watching. The thought was lost when our lips met.
A long lingering kiss. Tongues forcing an entrance, teeth parting, tongues fencing parrying. Hands roaming exploring one another’s body, caressing flanks, moulding round bits. Excitement rising. Her legs parting – issuing an invitation. Stroking fur. Fingers discover nubbin. She moans softly stifled by my mouth.
I can feel her outer labia are also hair covered. I would have expected this knowledge to be a turn off, but instead it was so unique I found it was stimulating. I wanted not only to feel but I wanted to see.
Eventually the long kiss breaks. I kiss her eyes. I explore her ear, again she responds. I am on all fours, I kiss and lick working my way down her neck to my first way-point, her breasts. My tongue traces around them leaving a concentric saliva trail, until reach the centre – her nipple. A teat like nipple, surprisingly large when compared to her insignificant B cup breasts. As I suckle and tongue her nipple she writhes ecstatically. “Oh yes … so good … keep doing that … I could get to want this everyday … yes .. Oh yes.”
Her legs opened a little more. My middle and index fingers slid into her easily. She wriggled her hips working my fingers deeper inside her. “Finger fuck me till I come.” She was setting the agenda.
As I finger fucked her, I relinquished her breasts kissing and licking her body down to her belly-button. Normally I would have continued kissing on a journey south, however her hirsute belly posed a problem. By the time I had reached her belly-button her vagina was relaxing, now my ring finger and pinkie had joined the middle and index fingers – four fingers gently but persistently opening her. I licked and kissed around the periphery of her pelt. I had just reached the top of her leg when she came. An earth shattering type orgasm – one that was wet and hot like a geyser her fluids flooded from her.
Sue screamed, a piercing florya escort bayan scream akin to that made by a mating vixen.- It was fortunate the car park was empty or someone would have been concerned and maybe drawn the wrong conclusion. “Oh my dear god what are you doing?” Sue gasped. “Please don’t stop!” … “Oh fuck harder!” … “Please …”
By now my mouth was near her pussy, further progress barred by my own hand. No matter this gave me the excuse to stop giving her oral attention and look. Sure enough the outside edge of her lips was covered in hair, almost to her ass-hole. Using my free hand I explored this hair, it was over an inch in length, so long that it could be plaited into dread-locks. But now I must lick her pussy I began to remove my fingers.
“No please no. Don’t take your fingers out. Please don’t… This is magic! … Nicholas the way you made me cum I want to do something I have never done. Have you ever fisted a woman?”
“Yes,” This is strange, Fisting was Annie and me’s big kink – and I mean big. Annie could go two hands. “But it is not something to do if you are at all unsure,”
“Oh I’m absolutely sure that is what I want. I want you to push your whole hand into me.”
“It may hurt you.” I warned. “We should use some sort of lubricant.” This was a kink that Annie and I had enjoyed, but I was not going to tell Sue.
“You could use margarine or butter like in that film. You know the one.”
You mean Last Tango in Paris – but then he was buggering her.”
“Its still a lubricant.”
“It will be cold its in the fridge.” I warned, despite my reservations I was getting into the idea. “Better still I have some Olive Oil.”
“That sounds good!” She giggled, “I hope it is Extra Virgin Olive Oil, it will be so ironic.”
She wriggled her hips as I removed my fingers. “Be quick I want you to fill me.”
The olive oil was in the kitchen locker – a half full bottle. This was going to be fun! I positioned myself kneeling between her legs. “This may hurt you know.”
“I do but I think the sex will be worth the pain. Look three kids heads have slipped out of there, even a babies head is as big as your hand.”
I lifted her legs so her ankles were by her ears. Shuffled my position and her backside rested on my thighs. Her pussy gaped open. I removed the top from the bottle of oil and poured directly into her open vagina. Nearly half a pint of oil filled her.
I gave her one last chance. “Are you sure you want me to?”
“Do it. Please do it.”
“I am going to be very quick and right in.”
“Just do it. Don’t stop even if I say so.”
I formed my four fingers into an arrow-head, my thumb folded in across the palm. The Olive Oil had made her slippery. The tips of my fingers parted her slick labia and on into her. As soon as I met an obstruction I leaned forward – using my weight to drive into her.
I could see Sue’s pain her teeth clenched as my fist forced her open. “You can screech if you want. I am too far in to stop.”
“Thanks but … no thanks…” She replied breathlessly. That hurt like hell then there was like white lightening in my head and I came again. I don’t know how many orgasms I’ve had. More than I have ever had before in one session. Now I am just cumming, I feel like am a wet ecstatic jelly.”
Wet yes, my hand had displaced some of the olive oil, it was running over her arse and her belly – soon it would be staining my duvet. Who cares if the sex is good. Gently I pistonned my arm so her pussy got more stimulation. “Is this good for you?” I asked as more oil flowed from her.
I can see her belly ripple, showing the movement of my invading hand. If only she was shaved I’d see more. I twist my wrist watching the arc of the motion of my knuckles.
“I don’t know what you just did but it is good.”
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Full … very full … wet .. and randy. It sort of hurts – it was a searing pain when you first went in – I thought you were tearing me in two. Now it is a constant bearable pain, a pain which is surprisingly pleasurable.”
“Oh yes. I feel so wet and full … oh god I’m cumming again …” She gasped her body tensed, arched her vagina gripping my hand tightly. Then again she relaxed. “Oh that was so good. Now I need you to fuck me.”
“You ready for me to take my hand out?”
“Enough of your hand for now I need cock.”
She came again as I eased my hand out. Her pussy gaped lewdly, an open invitation. My cock was hard and I had a burning desire to enter her.
Keeping her ankles by her ears her pussy remained open. I changed my position slightly – my rampant cock slid easily into her oiled gaping hole. Effortlessly our pubic bones met. “Good for me good for you.” I said.
“Just fuck me.”
I obliged, in fact I surprised myself with the athleticism I displayed. With her pelvis and arse elevated our sex was what is sometimes called the Pile-driver Position, there is nothing romantic or loving about this sex. It is – hard, violent, nasty and enjoyed by both of us. I would pull my cock out of her until only the exposed tip of the mushroom head was between her lips, suddenly I would cease supporting myself, aided by gravity I drove into her. My balls slapping her arse cheeks. The drive stopped when our pelvic bones crashed together. Again I would slowly pull out, each time a little tease before I slammed back into her again.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32