This is my entry in the May 2012 Calling All Writers event. It was inspired by several things: the picture posted by CAW #11 Hostess ejls to begin this Challenge, the song “Lyin' Eyes” by the Eagles, and a few brain-storming sessions with a new member who I suspect will become a popular writer. I knew the title of my story as soon as I saw the picture. The rest came later. Thanks in advance for reading.
*****
“I heard a song driving over here,” Goldie said. “You know that band 'The Eagles'?”
“Mhm,” I wasn't really listening. I was watching her get undressed.
“It was about lying eyes and going to the cheating side of town.” She went into the bathroom to look in the mirror. “Do you think Brian can see it when he looks at me? Is that where we are?”
“I hate to think of it that way,” I said.
“But that's what we're doing, isn't it? Cheating? You're married, and I have a boyfriend. Plus, you're twice my age.”
“Why does that bother you tonight? We've been doing this for over two years.”
“I don't know, Alex,” she said, kneeling in front of me to take off my pants.
*****
Goldie and I met when I built the pool house at her parents' place the summer she graduated from high school. The only thing she was doing that summer before college was working on her tan.
I was sitting with her parents, Ron and Marsha, on the deck near their pool, explaining my plans for the project. They were facing the area where the building would go, and I was facing them, which meant toward the house. Goldie was outside with us earlier, but she went in to get ready to go to her high school graduation practice.
“Mom!” she yelled from the house. “I'm out of panties.”
I looked up to see her standing in the doorway wearing a towel, or more like, holding it carelessly against her. I could almost see her pussy, and her nipples were nearly exposed. She looked at me and smiled.
Her parents didn't turn around, but Marsha called back to her, “You could help out around here a little, you know. It's a lot doing laundry for three ADULTS!”
“All I have left is thongs, and you won't let me wear them to school,” Goldie said. “Maybe I'll just go commando.” She winked at me and lifted her towel slightly, allowing me to see the smooth skin of her shaved pussy.
“No you won't, young lady! Borrow something of mine. My ass is the same size as yours.”
It was. I had been admiring it every chance I got. It was perfect above her sexy legs. The front of this woman? The challenge was to look at anything besides her boobs. Today, they were proudly displayed in a skin-tight crop top. The only word that came to mind was “epic.” They were very large and appeared quite firm. She wasn't wearing a bra, and amazingly at her age, didn't really need one for support. Apparently, she didn't care too much about modesty, because her silver-dollar areolas and juicy nipples were obvious.
Marsha was my age, probably ten years younger than her husband, and she was fit, trim, and still in her prime. The only thing on her that looked juicier than her nipples were the fat lips of her pussy, prominent in her “Daisy Duke” cut-off blue jean shorts. Except for the dark hair, Marsha Cameron looked the way I imagined her daughter would in twenty years. In other words, porn-star hot. If I wasn't married,...
“Fine,” Goldie said. She smirked at me, dropped her towel, and disappeared into the house.
I got the job and began work. Often, no one was home, but occasionally, mother and daughter would swim or sunbathe. Their bikinis would have been modest on women with bodies that didn't look so damn good. Sometimes they would “accidentally” flash me when they tanned or forget to pull the curtains in their rooms when they changed clothes. But, when I had other guys working with me, Marsha and Goldie never appeared.
Work progressed well. I was finishing the roof. From my ladder, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Cameron drive away. Soon afterward, Goldie came outside with some towels and jumped in the pool. She swam for a while, and then got out and dried off.
“Alex?” she called to me from her lounge chair on the deck.
“Yeah?” I was nailing shingles on the side of the roof away from her.
“I'm going to work on getting rid of my tan lines. Will that bother you?”
I thought, “Bother me? Hell no!” Trying to be a gentleman, and hoping to get paid for the job, I asked, “Won't your parents mind?”
“They're not home. They left to play golf, and they're eating dinner at the clubhouse. It's Tuesday, remember?”
“Oh, right”
When I stopped to re-load my nail-gun, she called to me again. “Want some iced tea?”
“Sure! As soon as I finish this section.”
“I'll go make a pitcher. I'll only be a minute,” she yelled. I leaned dangerously far on my ladder to watch her go inside. She didn't get dressed. I got a brief look at her walking through the patio door, suntan oil glistening on her cute ass.
I managed to avoid nailing my hand to the roof and continued with the section I was working on. Soon, I heard her yell, “The tea is ready!”
“I'll be down in a minute,” I hollered.
She hadn't been able to see me the entire time, which meant that she probably thought I hadn't seen her. To make sure she had time to cover up properly, I called, “I'm coming down now.”
I was wiping the sweat from my face with my shirt as I walked around the side of the pool house. I almost knocked her over, and got a good handful of ripe teenage tit trying to avoid the collision.
“Oh!” she squealed. “Hi!”
“I'm so sorry, Goldie,” I stammered, pulling my hand from her nude body like it had been burned. She did look that hot.
“Don't be. You just startled me. I wanted to see what was taking you so long,” she giggled.
“Shouldn't you put something on?” I asked, trying not to stare at her. Her breasts looked every bit as nice as they felt from that one brief grab, and the lotion she had slathered on herself made her bare mound shine in the sunlight.
“Do you want me to? Does nudity bother you?”
“No, no, it's not that at all.”
“What is it, then?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, which raised her breasts for my inspection. “Don't you like the way I look?”
“I shouldn't answer that.”
“Why not?”
“If I say one thing, you'll be mad at me, and if I say the other, your father will fire me and get someone else to finish the job. I need the money.”
“I know you do. You work hard, and you're worth far more than you make. I've seen your finished work at friends' houses. You remember the Robinsons? You built an addition on their house last year.”
“Oh yeah. They seemed pretty happy with the way the project turned out.” I said.
“They're thrilled. They're best friends with my folks, and their daughter Annie is a good friend of mine. Come on, let's go get some tea,” she replied, turning to walk back to the deck, buck naked, as though that was normal in front of a man working at her house.
“The Robinsons told my parents something else about you,” Goldie said as she sat straddling her lounge chair to sip her tea. Droplets of condensation from her cold glass traveled slowly down her body.
“What was that?” I asked while forcing myself to look at her pretty face. Her eyes had a definite greyish cast in the strong sunlight.
“They said you were a perfect gentleman, even when you caught Annie sunbathing topless.”
“Um, well, when you're around someone's home for a while, sometimes they tend to forget you're there,...”
“They said you covered your eyes and turned away to apologize. That makes me wonder why you're looking at me the way you are,” she said, rubbing the cold glass over her nipples. They looked fabulous as they hardened.
“I shouldn't be,” I said, but I couldn't tear my eyes off one large droplet of water that was ready to join the others in her navel. I wanted to watch it overflow, and drizzle down between her smooth lips.
“I don't mind,” Goldie said. “I watch you every day, in your cut-off jeans that hug your ass just right, and your tight t-shirts that you usually take off before your morning break. I watch those sweaty muscles of yours all day. I see one flexing now.”
It was. This girl was, to be blunt, fucking hot as hell. “I'm married,” I said. “You're barely legal.”
“As far as you being married is concerned, I don't care. I don't want you for a boyfriend. I have one of those. I want you as a fuck-toy, and I'll be one for you. And for your information, I'll be nineteen in less than six months.”
“Goldie, I don't want to cheat on my wife.” I was almost hard enough to stick out of the leg opening of my old denim shorts.
“To me, cheating is becoming emotionally attached to someone other than my boyfriend, Brian. But he's not here now, and I happen to know that your wife isn't waiting at home for you. She works at the country club where my parents are. She's their favorite server.” Playing in the hair on the inside of my thigh, she said, “You won't have anywhere to put this for hours unless I do something about it.”
“You shouldn't ....” I began.
“Shouldn't wait?” she interrupted, reaching up to grasp me. “I didn't plan to. But you're all hot and sweaty.” She pulled me to my feet and yanked down my shorts. I never wear underwear, so a thin string of pre-cum sparkled in the sunlight for a second when I bounced free.
“Oh.” That's all she said. She got up and walked around the pool to the diving board. I watched her go, my cock following her movements with even more interest than my eyes. “Why don't you get in the water with me and cool off?” she called, just before she dove in.
Dumbfounded, I struggled with my work boots, but soon I waded down the steps and stood in the shallow end, my erection just under the surface.
“Come get me, Alex,” she said when she surfaced. “I want you.”
I've always been able to swim fast underwater, and with the running I do, my breathing is pretty good. Still, when I saw her bald pussy in the water as she clung to the side, I wished I had been able to whistle. I swam to the wall and surfaced near her, but not too close. I wanted to be damn sure she was asking what I thought she was asking.
“What do you want, Goldie?”
“Your cock. I want you to fuck me.”
“I'm married and twice your age.”
“She's not here, I'm not going to tell her, you're not going to tell her, and as far as your age is concerned, that's part of the appeal. I've had boys, Alex. The guy I'm with right now isn't my first. But I've never had a man, so I want you to fuck me.”
We hauled ourselves out of the water. It took me a moment to follow her – I was mesmerized by the movement of her phenomenal ass as she walked.. She handed me a towel, and we dried ourselves off in silence. I picked up my shorts to put them on.
“No,” she said. “Don't. I want to get a shower to get the chlorine and suntan lotion off me, and I want you to shower with me. I've never done that, but I'll bet it's pretty cool.”
We walked into the house carrying our clothes and towels. She led me upstairs, and I stayed back a few steps so I could admire her again. Hard? Yeah. Harder than I had been in years for my wife. By this time, Goldie had been gloriously naked in front of me for a while, and yet every move she made excited me more.
In her bathroom, she got me a towel and then turned on the water in the tub. To adjust the temperature, she bent, knees locked, allowing me to see her tiny pucker above her juicy lips. That was it. To hell with my frigid wife. It's not like I was getting pussy from her. I was going to fuck the hell out of this chick. If I did a good enough job, maybe she'd let me do it again.
She got in the shower and quickly wet her long blond hair and sun-ripened body. Then she moved to the back to give me space. I slid the door shut behind me and stood under the spray, watching her large young breasts bounce and move as she lathered her hair.
“Switch ends? I want to rinse so I can put in my conditioner,” Goldie said. “Can you guide me? I have shampoo in my eyes.” As I helped her move past me, my erection dragged along her belly.
“Was that what I think it was?” Goldie asked from under the shower-head.
“Uh huh.”
“I want that inside me,” she said.
“First, I'm going to wash you.”
She turned to look at me, and her eyes went straight to my cock. “What do you mean?”
I picked up her bath sponge and a bottle of French vanilla shower gel. “I'm going to wash you. You said you wanted to shower with me. When I shower with a woman, we wash each other.”
“Okay,” she said in a very soft voice.
Interesting. For all her initial brashness, she now seemed a little submissive. I'm not the type to take advantage of someone, but her sudden attitude change only added to the delicious craziness of the situation. I was going to do all kinds of things with this girl.
I started with her face. Squeezing as much water out of the sponge as I could, I gently lathered her. Her nipples were against my chest as I worked, and my erection would occasionally rub her belly. Satisfied with the job I had done, I had her turn around and rinse.
“I feel your dick on my ass,” she said.
“Uh huh.”
“It's really hard.”
I moved so my cock dragged back and forth over her ass cheeks. “Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Not yet. Let's finish getting cleaned up.” I smacked her firm buttocks with my dick a few times, and then turned her to face me. “Have you ever been fucked hard?”
“You mean rough? I don't want you to hurt me.”
“I'm not going to hurt you, just wear you out.” With my one hand, I fondled her nipple, and with the other, I rubbed lightly over her wet cleft.
“What are you going to do to me?” she gasped, plunging her tongue into my mouth.
“What would you like me to do?” I answered, my thumb pressing on her clit as I probed her with a finger.
“Everything.” Her hand closed around my shaft.
“Wash first,” I said. I moved away from her, and watched her eyes follow my cock as I lathered up her sponge. “Behave, young lady. Stand there and enjoy getting clean.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
I started with her neck and throat, gently rubbing the sweet smelling foam into her skin. Then I washed her arms. I could feel the tension in her fingers as I lathered them. “Relax.”
“It's hard to relax. That feels so good.”
“It's supposed to.” I raised her hands over her head, and she held them there so I could wash her underarms. This elevated her breasts, making them seem even larger. I could feel myself leak.
She saw it. “Alex? Can we fuck right here?”
“Maybe.” I dribbled some shower gel onto her breasts, and began kneading them with my hands.
“I'm not sure I can wait till we dry off,” she breathed, pulling me in for more passionate kissing.
When I had washed her belly and sides, I knelt in front of her. “Hold my shoulder,” I said, picking up her foot to wash it with her sponge. By the time I was done with the other foot, her petals were opening.
I discarded the sponge, and squirted a few strings of shower gel on her lower belly.
“Oh God,” she said, as a trail of the creamy white gel oozed over her lips.
With my hands, I worked the lather into the fronts of her thighs, down both knees, and onto her shins, then around the back, soaping her calves, thighs, and buttocks. “Spread your legs.”
“Alex!” she gasped as I massaged the creamy white foam into her creases.
Her first orgasm came as I was soaping the tender flesh around her clit. When she finished, I stood and turned her to face away from me so I could wash her back.
After combing her wet hair forward over her magnificent chest, I massaged sweet-smelling bubbles into her shoulders and worked on her back with long strokes, kneading the skin with my soapy fingers. Finally, I cupped her firm ass in my hands. “Bend over.”
She did. I played my fingers over her tight little anus.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Cleaning you.” My little finger teased her puckered hole.
“You can't do that.”
“Yes I can. Relax.” Teasing in circles around her anus, I slowly worked just the tip of my little finger inside her.
“That feels weird.”
“Good weird, or bad weird?” I asked, massaging her asshole gently.
“Good weird,” she sighed.
I turned her around to face me, and pushed my middle finger into the tight heat where my little finger had been. This time, I could feel her relax to admit me, and I slowly advanced to the hilt. Then I pulled her womanhood to my face.
“Oh my God,” she breathed when my tongue first grazed her.
I could smell her need and taste her warmth. “You like oral sex?” I asked, licking her lightly again.
“Giving it,” she gasped. “I've never gotten it before.”
“I'll show you why women like it,” I said, pressing softly against her lips with my tongue. I took gentle, teasing licks at her, with the most pressure applied at the top, over her clit. My finger stroked slowly in and out of her ass.
“Put your finger in my pussy, please,” she moaned.
“I'm going to put more than that in your pussy, girl,” I said. I lifted her one leg and draped it over my shoulder, and then pulled her apart with my fingers to dig as far inside her as my tongue could reach.
“Oh shit!” she squealed. She grabbed my head and began humping my face. My thumb worked on her swollen clit as I tongue-fucked her. “Shit! Oh, God!” she wailed as I tasted her orgasm. It was long, heartfelt, and juicy, and it left her trembling.
Standing up, I pulled her to me, crushing my cock against her belly and her tits against my chest. I held her for a moment until she started to calm down, and then I started in again. “Ready for more?” I asked before crushing my mouth to hers.
“No one's ever made me feel this way,” she breathed.
I bent down to suck on her left nipple, sliding my hands down her body to cup her firm bubble-butt in one hand and her sex in the other. Releasing her tit, I said, “Now I'll put my finger in your pussy.”
She moaned as I pushed my middle finger slowly into her vagina, and she grabbed my cock and began stroking it. “I really want you to fuck me now, please, Alex!”
“I'm not sure you're ready. Besides, we still need to wash me.” I worked my index finger inside her, and sucked her right nipple hard into my mouth. Probing and stroking her wetness, I found her magic patch of ribbed tissue, and began my massage. My thumb played on her clit as I nibbled on her breast. We kissed like like it would be the last time as I worked relentlessly inside her.
This time, she had an orgasm the likes of which I'm not sure I had ever seen. She began trembling, moaning, stammering some sort of gibberish, and then screaming as each pulse of her cum bathed my wrist. She was still leaking when I pulled my fingers out of her and hugged her to me to hold her up. Eventually her breathing returned to more-or-less normal.
“I don't know if I'll live through another one of those,” she sighed. “What did you do to me?”
“I made you squirt. That's never happened to you before, has it?”
“Hell, no!” she exclaimed. “I mean, I knew it was an orgasm, but it wasn't like any I ever felt. It just kept growing and growing till I knew it was going to be huge. When it came, it was like I couldn't stop cumming. I always like getting fingered, but it's never been like that! Now I know I want you to fuck me!”
“Wash me first,” I said.
She used her sponge on my face, but impatiently tossed it away when she was done. She squirted shower gel all over me and began lathering my torso with her hands. When she got to my cock, she held it, almost reverently, in her soapy hands. “I think this is the biggest I've seen close-up. Thickest, for sure.” She began stroking it, lathering it with one hand, and washing my ball sack and taint with the other.
She was good with her hands. Good enough that I knew she could easily bring me off this way. “Girl, I think you should wash my back now.”
“All right,” she said, holding my shaft for a moment while she kissed me.
I turned toward the spray, and she lathered my back, ass, feet, and legs. Turning to face her again, I found her stroking her pussy.
“Do you like blow-jobs?” she asked.
“I haven't had one in quite a while.”
She knelt in front of me and began rubbing my cock on her face. “Maybe I can make up for a little of that.”
It had been ages since I had gotten much of anything from my wife. Even when we were younger, she never took her time with my cock like this girl did. Goldie licked me slowly, working her tongue in zig-zag patterns up and down my shaft, coating all of me with her spit. Then she began to suck on just the head, slowly stroking the rest of me with a firm grip.
When she finally opened her mouth and took me inside, I wondered if this would be the first time I would cum from a blow-job. Before I got married, I played the field for a number of years and dated some girls who really seemed to like giving head. It felt great, but all it ever did was get me in the mood for some intense fucking.
This time, it was different. I had a girl with the body of a young porn star kneeling in front of me, her wet hair tucked behind her ears to I could see her blue-gray eyes smiling at me. Her fabulous breasts moved with every stroke of her hand. Her lips and tongue, the suction of her cheeks, and the massage her hands were giving my balls and the portion of me that wouldn't fit in her mouth all had me thinking that I could have an orgasm. A big one. “Keep that up and I'll cum.”
“Good,” she said, pausing only a moment from her efforts.
“Where do you want it?” I grunted.
She tried to mumble something around my cock, but then she felt it swelling. She looked up at me, and sucked even harder. With every spasm into her mouth, she swallowed. She didn't lose a drop.
“My God, girl! Where did you learn to suck cock like that?”
“Brian. He really likes it when I do that, but his cock isn't like yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“His isn't as big, and he sure doesn't cum as much as you do!”
“Where do you want it next?” I asked, pulling her to her feet. “I have some ideas,” I said, cupping her pussy with one hand and her ass with the other. My fingers started teasing her openings.
We made out like that for a while, under the cooling spray of the shower. My recovering manhood rose against her hip. “Let's go to my bedroom,” she said, as she ran her fingers over it.
We dried each other, and she knelt to suck on me again, ensuring that I was hard as a digging iron once more. “Why do you keep playing with my asshole?” she asked.
“Don't you like that?”
“I don't know. Yeah, I guess, but no one's ever touched me there before.”
“I think I should fuck you there,” I said, pulling her up against me again and working a finger between her cheeks to stroke her puckered hole.
“Up my ass? I thought only gay guys did that.”
“Gay men and little sluts,” I said, pushing my thumb against her sphincter. “I'm the only guy here, and I'm straight.”
“Will it hurt?”
“With a little lube and a lot of play, probably not too much.”
“I want you in my pussy first,” she breathed.
“That was my plan.”
We went across the hall to her room. “Oh, my curtains are open,” she said, moving to close them.
“You don't mind having them open when I'm working outside. Neither does you mother.”
That stopped her in her tracks.
“Mom? Mom flashes you?”
“Pretty much every day when I'm here alone, just like you do. She started before you did.”
Goldie laughed, a hearty belly laugh that made her phenomenal tits bounce and her damp blond hair glisten in the sunlight. “My mother is such a bitch! She gave me very specific instructions to keep my curtains closed whenever you were here!”
“She doesn't practice what she preaches,” I said. “And you don't listen worth a damn, do you?”
“No.” She blushed, a hint of shame taking some of the brazenness off her pretty face.
“Are you going to listen to me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then we'll both enjoy ourselves. Lie down in the middle of the bed.”
She did. Lying down next to her, I pulled against me. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.
“Are you? I'm not the one who's married.”
I lay there and thought for a while, my hand stroking her firm, curvy ass.
“As long as you can keep your mouth shut, we'll be fine,” I said.
“Alex, if Brian found out, he'd be angry and hurt, and he would dump me in a heartbeat. My parents would probably disown me. I'm going to the university in the city, and it's not cheap, so I'm sure not going to say anything.”
“Fuck it,” I said, grabbing her and pulling her on top of me so I could knead her buttocks better.
“Fuck me,” she responded, crushing her mouth to mine.
I decided to taste her one more time, so I rolled her over onto her back as we kissed. Her nails dug into my shoulders when she felt my hardness against her, and her tongue showed its appreciation to mine. We stayed like that for a while. I wanted to fuck her, but I wanted to be sure she was ready for the pounding I was about to give her.
She broke the kiss when my fingers played over her slit. “Oh, God,” she said. “My boyfriend would be done by now.”
“Maturity and experience trump youth and enthusiasm.” I grasped just the tip of her earlobe between my teeth and whispered, “I'm not ready to fuck you yet, and you sure as hell aren't ready to fuck me.”
“I'm not?”
“No.” I trailed little butterfly kisses from her hair, behind her ear, onto her neck and finally to her throat. Shifting my position so she could feel the head of my cock against her pussy, I grabbed her left breast, firmly but not hard, and devoured it. Her hips began to move, rubbing my wet penis over her slick opening. I stopped, grabbed the other breast, and said, “You're still not ready to fuck me.” Then I bit, ever so lightly, on her right nipple, just enough to hold it still while my tongue worked on it.
“Oh, shit,” she whimpered.
I got to my knees, put her legs on my shoulders, and lifted her by her hips toward my face. Her damp blond hair was strewn on the pillow, the nipples on her gorgeous breasts fat and hard, and a mixture of nervousness and need in her blue-gray eyes.
“I've never had a man do this to me,” she said.
“You've never had a MAN do anything.” The tangy sweet aroma of her was in my nose, so I pulled her to me and began to eat.
At first, she stayed quiet. She was breathing noisily but saying nothing. Then I heard it, a strangled gasping whisper. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh God,” over and over, louder with each repetition, until she was screaming it, and her juice was running down my chin.
“Now, you're ready to fuck.” I lowered her body to the bed, lifted her shoulders, and stuffed some pillows under her. Then I pulled her against me, her legs splayed at a lewd angle resting on my thighs, aimed, and entered her. I wasn't rough with her, but I sure as hell got her attention.
“Don't move!” she moaned when I was fully inside her. “Wait for me, please.”
“What's wrong?” I said, stroking my fingers lightly on her thighs. “You said you wanted me to fuck you.”
“I have to stretch more than I'm used to.”
“I can tell. Take your time.”
Her face began to relax, and she looked at us where we joined. “How hard are you going to fuck me?” she whimpered.
“Pretty hard.”
“I'll be tired when we're done, won't I?”
“Hopefully,” I said, pulling out a little, and then pushing gently back to the bottom. “Are you on the pill?”
“I have a boyfriend. Of course I'm on the pill.”
“Good.” I pulled back about halfway, and then pushed in firmly, to the hilt.
“Do that again,” she said, a huge grin on her face.
I did it again, twice, the second time faster than the first.
“Watch us!” she giggled. “Look at how wet your cock is.”
She was right. I pulled out again, and began to pump slowly in and out of her, pushing hard enough at the end of each stroke to make her tits bounce. Holding her by her pelvis, I pulled her on and off me, deeper and faster. The moisture on my shaft began to foam, her breasts bounced in circles, and her eyes were glued to our sex.
As she moaned, I grunted, and our wet groins smacked together. The room smelled of shower gel, fresh sweat, and sex. I watched the perspiration bloom on her forehead and under her eyes until drops began to roll down the valley between her breasts.
“Have you ever had your tits fucked?”
“No.”
“I think you should. Not today, maybe, but sometime soon,” I said, continuing to thrust relentlessly into her grasping, wet little pussy.
“No one's ever fucked me like this.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yesssssss,” she hissed, grinding her nipples between her fingertips as she climaxed on my cock.
Somehow, I managed to wait until she was calming down, and then I rammed into her about a half-dozen times and came at least as hard as I had in the shower.
“Alex!” she wailed, shuddering though a brand new orgasm. When it was over, I moved her so I could lie down.
She cuddled up against me and I held her, stroking the smooth skin of her shapely ass. Soon, she was dozing off.
“Hey,” I said, pulling her to me for a kiss. “This isn't the time for a nap. We need to get cleaned up, you need to change your sheets, and I need to finish that roof.”
“You're no fun,” she said, playfully smacking my chest.
“I agree. Now get up.”
She did. “That's so cool,” she said, running a finger through the mess on her bruised-looking sex.
It was pretty cool. I had done something I knew I might do sooner or later: cheat on my boring, selfish wife. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be with a girl fresh out of high school who looked like a bikini model. Memories of this day would keep me entertained on those boring nights when my wife played bridge with the girls.
We were in the shower again, all business this time. “Alex? I'd like to do that again.”
“So would I.”
Goldie said, “I think I'd like to try titty-fucking you, too. I can probably lick you at the same time.”
“I'd like to try breaking in that sweet little ass of yours.”
“I wonder if Mom does that with Dad. He's always grabbing her ass when he thinks I'm not looking.”
With good reason, I thought. I'd sure as hell fuck her mom every way I could, if I knew she really wanted it. Hell, why not? I've gone this far.
Three days later, I was finishing installation of the sauna enclosure that was delivered that morning. I was taking a load of scrap and trash out to my truck and looked up toward the house. None of the curtains were closed now, although they all had been when my guys were here earlier helping with setup. Goldie's car had left, which meant Marsha Cameron should be home alone.
Movement caught my eye in the master bedroom. The sun made a glare on the glass, but it looked she was putting on a black garter belt and nylons, and I didn't see panties. A pair of heels followed. Then, she dropped a simple blue dress over her head and walked to her doorway.
The intercom from the house buzzed. “Yes?” I answered, pushing the button.
“I saw you looking,” a tinny female voice said. “I always see you looking. I like that. You should come inside where you can see better.” The intercom clicked off.
The back door was unlocked, so I walked inside. I could hear her heels on the hardwood floor at the entrance to the master suite.
“Don't just stand there,” the intercom near me crackled. “I'm upstairs.”
Sitting on her parents' bed was Goldie, wearing her mother's dress. “That answers one question for me,” she laughed.
“What's that?”
“I wondered if you would fuck my mother. I think you would.”
“I thought you were her. She took off in your car.”
“She took it to get it serviced near her hairdresser. My other question was, what would you do to her?”
“Should I tell you or show you?”
“Show me.”
“Maybe we should put some towels on the bed. I'm pretty sure your folks wouldn't be pleased if they could tell their bed had been fucked in.”
“I already thought of that,” Goldie said, pointing to beach towels that were folded on the dressing table chair. “Look what I found.” She opened a nightstand drawer and pulled out a tube of personal lubricant. “I didn't find any toys, so I guess I was right about Mom and Dad.”
“Could be.” I spread the towels on the bed, and then lifted Marsha's dress over her daughter's head. I was right about the panties. The garter belt and nylons could stay. So could the heels. I pulled her against me and kissed her hard, probably harder than I had when we fucked the first time.
“What would you do if I was my mom?” she asked.
“Something like what I did to you the other day. Maybe harder since Mom's older.”
“Harder? Is that even possible? I was tender all the next day.”
“Maybe I'd fuck her ass, if I knew she had this,” I said, grabbing the tube of lube.
“I've been thinking about that,” she said.
“So have I.” I dropped my shorts and showed her my hardness. She knelt in front of me to lube me with her sweet mouth. God, could this girl suck cock! I was getting lost in the sensation of her tongue as my penis rubbed across it when I saw the tube of lube again. I pulled out of her mouth, slapped her cheeks with my dick a few times, and pulled her to her feet. “Ready to get your virgin ass fucked?”
“Don't hurt me,” she whimpered as I mauled her big breasts.
“I'll try not to.” I turned her around and pushed her face first onto the bed. Grabbing her ankles, I dragged her to the side so her belly was on the edge of the bed, her legs over the side, and her ass in the air. I spanked it lightly, first with my hand, and then with my cock. “Relax and enjoy this,” I said, spreading her butt-cheeks and smearing lube on her puckered star. My middle finger probed her, and she struggled to loosen her muscles to admit me. I finger-fucked her ass until she started to moan, and then added my index finger. With my other hand, I stroked her clit.
“Oh God, Alex, I think I like that.”
“Good,” I said. I squeezed more lube onto my fingers and worked it inside her, stretching her little asshole to prepare her. A generous dollop of lube went on my cock, and I used it to smear the goo on her hole. “Ready?”
“I don't know,” she whined as I pushed my manhood against her. At first, her sphincter resisted me, but it began to open as I fondled her button and massaged her wet slit with my hand. “OH, JESUS!” she yipped as I finally penetrated her. “How deep are you going to go?”
I kept pressing myself into her until I felt my scrotum against the hand I was using to finger her juicy cunt. “This deep.”
“Oh God, it feels like a damn tree trunk!” she said through clenched teeth.
“Relax. You're too tense.” I stretched one elastic garter and let it snap back against her buttock.
“Ow!” she squealed, pulling herself off me a little. I grabbed her by the hips and pushed back into her, strumming her little clit as I did. Then I snapped the other garter. “Ow!” she squealed again, moving forward more, pulling more of me out of her tight depths. This time, I smacked her ass with the palm of my hand before thrusting back inside her. That's how we got a rhythm going. I pushed in until my balls were against her pussy and then spanked her. She pulled away and then helped me to drive into her again. She was getting into it.
“Can a woman cum like this?” she gasped.
“Some can. Will you?”
“Maybe. It's starting to feel pretty good.”
I pulled out and rolled her onto her back. Grabbing her ankles, I bent her in two and rammed my cock back into her ass and two fingers into her wet pussy. Pumping her hard, I let my thumb play on her swollen clit while I bit down on her left nipple.
“OH, GOD, FUCK MY ASS!” she squealed as I drove into her again and again. “You're gonna make me cum! Oh, oh, oh, fuck me, FUCK ME!” Her internal muscles started pulsing on my fingers as her eyes rolled up into her head. I just kept plowing her. When she was done, I pushed both her legs up even farther, and took long, deep strokes into her, kissing her as furiously as she kissed me, until I filled her rectum with cum.
Spent, I pulled out and lay next to her on the bed, my wilting cock shiny from the lube and our juices in the afternoon sun. “That's what I would do to your mom.”
Goldie and I continued our affair throughout the summer. On golf nights, when her parents and my wife were at the country club, I would take her in every room of the house. Other times, she would meet me at the building where I stored my equipment, and I would fuck her in the bed of a truck or on a blanket spread on top of a pile of plywood. It was great dirty fun but risky as hell, which just added to the thrill.
When college started, Goldie spent a lot of time on her studies. She was a hard worker, committed to her dream of becoming a doctor. I got her a present for her nineteenth birthday, which came about a week after she aced all her mid-terms. I picked her up after her last class one chilly autumn afternoon.
She bounced across the parking lot and got in my truck. “Where are we going tonight? I'm horny!” she said.
“A new place. Here, I have a present for you.” I opened the glove compartment and handed her a small gift box, the kind a bracelet could be packed in. “Don't open it yet.” I drove to an older part of town and parked on the street in front of a large house that had been broken up into apartments. “Open your gift.”
She pulled off the bow and tore at the wrapping paper. Inside the box on a pad of white cotton fill was a key. She looked at me, confused. I said nothing until I had gotten out of the truck and opened her door for her.
“Let's see what it unlocks,” I said, taking her hand and leading her across the sidewalk.
Still looking very uncertain, she put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened into a small apartment. The main room had a sofa, TV, and a kitchenette at the far end. The bedroom was filled by a king-sized bed and two nightstands. On one were two champagne flutes and a bottle chilling. On the other was a small bowl of strawberries and a feather.
“Winter is coming. I didn't want to have to take you to motels, so I got this. I bought the building, and I'm going to remodel the whole thing and rent it out, but I'm saving this space for us,” I said.
“I... I can't move in with you, Alex,” she said.
“I can't imagine two people actually living here, and I'm not asking you to move in. My wife might not like that any better than Brian would. But if you want to keep seeing me, we have a place of our own.”
She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. That night was the first time we made love.
We used the apartment a lot. I “played poker with the guys”, and she “studied with the girls” as much as we could without making our mates suspicious. On nights when my wife had to work and Goldie's parents were away, she would sometimes tell her boyfriend that she went with them.
When Goldie turned twenty-one, I took her to get a tattoo she wanted. Only certain people would see it – a small and finely detailed design of rosebuds surrounded by ivy, high on her left buttock, where it would be covered by a bikini. Brian thought it was great that her “best girlfriends” chipped in to get it for her.
Things changed during her senior year. We had sworn to each other early on that we would be friends with benefits, fuck-buddies, and nothing more. We cared about each other, more deeply than we planned to, but we knew on some level that our life together was temporary.
One night, after a particularly tender session of mutual pleasure, she was cuddled on my chest. “Alex?”
“Hmmm?”
“I got a letter today from another medical school I applied to.”
“Which one?”
“Stanford, in California. That's my first choice. I already have my acceptance to Johns Hopkins, which is kind of my fall-back school. The campus is less than two hours away, so maybe we could still visit once in a while.”
“What did Stanford say?” I asked.
“I didn't open the letter. I wanted to be with you when I did.” She got out of bed, pulled an envelope out of her backpack, and burrowed under the covers with me again. “Should I open it?”
“That's the first step toward finding out what's inside.”
She gave my cock a playful squeeze and tore open the envelope. By the nightstand light, I could read over her shoulder. Goldie was accepted by one of the finest medical schools in the country, three thousand miles away.
“I don't know what to do,” she said.
I pulled her to me and kissed her hair. “Yes you do. You already told me that Brian is going there for their business management program. Stanford is the best school for what you want to do, and the boy you've loved for five years will be going there.”
“But you're staying here.”
“Yes.”
We lay quietly in each other's arms for a while.
“Can we sleep here tonight?” she asked.
“I had hoped to.”
After our shower, I spooned with her until she fell asleep. I stayed awake for a while, admiring her beauty, feeling the soft skin of her breast in my hand and her ass against my groin. Sleeping here with Goldie was better than sleeping at home next to the mannequin my wife had become.
I woke up before she did. The early morning sun brought soft light to the room through the curtains. I got out of bed and made coffee. When I returned, I found her lying on her back, her legs slightly spread, the covers down to expose her beautiful breasts and just the top of her bare slit. I wanted her more at that moment than I could stand.
“Baby?” I whispered as I lay down next to her.
She didn't respond. One thing I had learned about Goldie over the years was that she liked to sleep.
“Do you want to wake up?”
“No,” she mumbled. She kicked the sheet down further, and resumed her steady, slow breathing.
I propped myself up on my elbow to look at her. Her hair was scattered across the pillow, a lock of it covering one eye. Her nipples, even in sleep, were pink, perky, and delicious-looking. The smooth skin of her abdomen trailed off into her valley. It called to me. I knew how I would wake her.
I moved to the foot of the bed and stared at her womanhood. Easing her thighs further apart, I traced a path with my tongue from the bottom of her sex to the top. On about the tenth pass, she began to stir. Her legs moved farther apart, and her breathing changed. I licked her more firmly, tasting the moisture she started to produce.
She stretched and mumbled, “What are you doing?”
“Licking you.”
“Mmmm.”
I kept eating her gently, savoring the pleasured sounds she was making.
She whispered, “Cock.”
“Hmmm?” I replied between passes of my tongue.
“Cock. Want it. In my mouth.”
I turned in bed, and she began suckling on my member as I lapped at her. This wasn't the frenzied blowjob I sometimes got from her, and her orgasms on my tongue were quiet and luxurious. When I came, she cleaned me thoroughly after she swallowed.
“That was a lot more fun than my alarm clock at home,” she sighed when I moved to hold her again.
At Goldie's graduation, I stayed in the shadows. Brian surprised her with an engagement ring after they got their diplomas.
The next night in the apartment, Goldie and I agreed that we had to stop doing this. I decided it was time to try to save my marriage, and Goldie resolved to be faithful to the man who gave her the diamond. Before she left for California, on our last night together, she cried as she rode me.
*****
Working on my marriage was a waste of time. I had been so busy trying to hide my “lyin' eyes” from my wife that I hadn't seen the falsehoods in hers. After nearly fifteen years together, my wife left me for a younger man, one she had been seeing for almost as long as I had been involved with Goldie.
Financial planning was never my strong suit. I was good at working hard to make money, but not so good at protecting it. Guilt, anger, and loneliness were taking up too much of my time for me to fight my wife's demands, so the divorce cost me a lot. I wound up living in the old building I was renovating, eventually finishing the other apartments but staying in the little unit that had been the illicit love-nest I shared with Goldie.
Building houses is hard work. Talk to any older construction worker. Look at his body. It may look toned, fit, and strong, but it will be scarred, too. My worst scars were from back surgery. I developed a pain in my leg that wouldn't go away the day after I turned fifty-five. It felt like a cramp in my calf muscle when it got bad, even though the muscle was relaxed. Walking helped, but it got to the point that it was a challenge to even sit through dinner.
When the pain got bad enough, I went to my doctor. He referred me to a surgeon who, with a zillion tests and pictures, cortisone injections, and wasted time in physical therapy, justified cutting me open. After the excruciating surgical pain died away, and lots of physical therapy, I went back to work. Six months later, the pain returned. The surgeon opened me up again and removed more material from the herniated discs that were pressing on my sciatic nerve.
With two back surgeries and all the time I had missed from work, my business was in trouble. Grimly, I tried to re-build my little company. I had to pay a lot of sub-contractors to do work I normally would have done myself, which nearly bankrupted me.
When the pain started yet again, I went back to the surgeon. This time, he said my agony was caused by scar tissue from the other two procedures pressing against the nerve. More surgery to remove it wasn't an option, since new scar tissue would likely grow and cause the pain to return. The solution? An electronic neuro-stimulator implant. It's a device about the size of a pack of gum that is placed under the skin, with a cable pushed through the fat layer over the muscles of the back and connected to a bundle of electrodes on the spinal cord.
My surgeon called in a specialist to do the procedure, a Dr. Jessica O'Connor.
Dr. O'Connor was beautiful in surgical scrubs and a white coat, without make-up, and with her long brown hair in a bun. Her credentials indicated a woman of about forty, although you would never have thought that to look at her. She was all business when she bustled into the examining room.
“I'm Dr. O'Connor, Mr. Masterson. From consulting with your surgeon and studying your MRIs, I believe you are a perfect candidate for an implant. With proper programming, you should be virtually pain-free and able to return to normal activities, provided you do nothing to unduly strain your back. The insertion of the unit will be done under general anesthesia. When you recover, we will program it to give you maximum comfort.”
It sounded good to me. I was tired of pain and scared of living the rest of my life dependent on the painkillers that made me a zombie, but didn't help my comfort that much.
Before my discharge from the hospital, Dr. O'Connor worked with a laptop computer to program the micro-computer under my skin. Using a paddle that she rested on the incision over my implant, she was able to test and stimulate the electrodes, finding the right balance of micro-voltages to send to my spine to mask the agony of my pinched nerve. Then she sent the settings to a small remote-control unit that I wore in a holster on my belt. With that, I could make some changes to the signals, depending on my comfort level.
Ten days later, when I went to have my sutures removed, Dr. O'Connor spent a lot of time with me, checking my reflexes, testing and tweaking my implant, and showing real pleasure at my progress. I was impressed that a very specialized surgeon would take this much time with a patient, but it was very pleasant being around her. I felt comfortable in her hands.
One evening, my phone rang. “This is Dr. O'Connor. I haven't talked to you in a month. How are you doing, Alex?”
“Not too bad. I'm getting better with the remote control unit.”
“Have you talked to any of the technicians?” she asked.
“A polite young man we here yesterday with what looked like the same equipment you used. Pretty slick. He ran the diagnostics and fine-tuned a few things for me and re-synchronized my remote.”
“Good. You know, I've written some parts of the master code in that little bionic bit inside you. If you're not busy, I could come over and work with you on it. Your address is on your chart.”
“Well, um, I thought that was the technician's job. I'm pretty happy with his work,” I replied. I was a bit surprised to hear a doctor offer to make a house call.
She said, “Even though units of this kind have been in use for a number of years, they are in a constant state of refinement and improvement, and we're learning to program them better.” she said.
“That's what you and my other surgeon said, and I did some web searches to learn more.”
“I like my patients to know everything they can about these units,” she said. “The company that makes them provides you with free lifetime tech support, which is why they're the leading manufacturer of this kind of medical product. Their techs are brilliant and well-trained, and I trust them with all my patients. Still, I've done a lot of research on the programming. There are an incredible number of ways I can program an implant.”
“All right, doctor. Any help I can get with my new toy might get me back to work sooner. When do you want to come over?”
“Will half an hour be okay?”
Thirty minutes later, she knocked on my door. Her hair was down now, and her lab coat was gone. She wore a simple white blouse and a short charcoal pencil skirt under her coat, and she looked stunning. For the first time, I appreciated what a phenomenal figure she had.
“Nice little apartment,” she said.
“I've lived here about twenty years. I own the building, but this place is big enough for me.” I motioned her to the sofa and sat down next to her.
“Would you raise your shirt and loosen your pants so I can place my electrode paddle properly?” She ran a diagnostic on all the leads, and then began adjusting settings. As she worked, she talked. “Do you have any other health problems or concerns? Your chart really doesn't talk about much except your pain, and the fact that you're otherwise very healthy.”
“Nope. Blood pressure is good. Heart is good. I'm healthy except for my back and all the trouble.... Wow, that's a weird sensation,” I said when she changed a setting.
“What do you feel?”
“A warm tingling feeling on my shin. Oh, wait, you changed something. Now it almost feels like water dripping on my toes.”
“Some people report all kinds of odd feelings, depending on what settings they run.” Her nails clicked on her keyboard, and suddenly, I got a jolt of pleasure in my groin. It felt like a dozen tongues were all licking me at the same time, and I was instantly rock hard.
“Feel anything unusual?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Can you describe what you feel?” She was looking at my groin, a naughty smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe I should save that setting.”
“Doctor, I'm sorry. I'm so embarrassed.”
“Don't be. It's normal, Alex. So is this.” She unbuttoned her blouse and removed it, exposing a large pair of breasts straining against a white lace bra. “I think you should call me Jessica now.” She turned and walked into my bedroom. Of course, I followed. I had no idea what was going on, but I sure as hell wasn't questioning it.
Her hands freed my straining member from my clothing and began stroking it lightly. “I don't know whether you've had any trouble in this area,” she said as she started to lick it, “but you won't now.”
“Doctor, I mean, Jessica, what are you doing?” I gasped. This woman was damn good with her tongue.
“I can't leave you in this condition, can I?” she purred as she took me deep into her mouth.
I reached behind her to unclasp her bra, pulling it off her so I could knead her impressive breasts. Her nipples were hard, and getting harder under my fingers.
She unzipped her skirt, worked it off her hips, and stripped off the lacy white panties that matched her discarded bra. Going to my open closet, she pulled some spare pillows from a top shelf. A cardboard box fell to the floor and spilled. Inside were things I had never had the heart to throw away – Goldie's old rabbit vibe that I bought her for Christmas one year, a forgotten pair of her panties, our favorite silk scarves, the last feather I used on her, and her college graduation announcement. Jessica glanced at the items for a moment in silence, then repacked the box and put it away.
She undressed me the rest of the way, propped me comfortably with pillows, and mounted me. My cock, harder than it had been in years, slid blissfully inside her wet, clean-shaven pussy. She rode me to a hard, pulsing orgasm, allowing me to fill her with my seed, and then turned, with me still erect inside her, to ride me once more, her hands on my ankles for support.
That's when I saw the tattoo of rosebuds and ivy, the one I had bought for Goldie on her twenty-first birthday.
“Oh my God,” I said. “That tattoo!”
“I've never forgotten you, Alex,” she murmured as she pumped her drooling sex up and down on my shaft. “I think I was falling in love with you when I was in college. When Brian gave me my ring, I thought I could put you out of my mind, but I failed. I've tried to change. I've been faithful to him all these years, but when I saw your name on your chart, all the old feelings came rushing back.
“You saw I kept a few mementos,” I said. “I was very happy when we were together.”
“So was I. When I realized you were my patient, I thought I could stay professional, but I was wrong.”
She said nothing more, allowing both of us to savor the old sensations of our bodies joining. After her second orgasm, she turned to face me again, kissing me, giving me access to her magnificent breasts.
“I thought you looked familiar, but your hair and name convinced me I was wrong,” I said as I pulled her down for a passionate kiss.
She straightened up to ride me again. “I dyed my hair back to its real color, started using my first name instead of Goldie, got married, and became a surgeon. I use my married name now, since it's on my degrees and certifications. When I saw the name and address on your chart, I almost said something, but I didn't know what you would think.”
“I think I'm glad you're back,” I groaned, thrusting with her to fill her again.
She left soon afterward with a promise to return often to check on me. As she walked to her car, mist was swirling through the wet, bare trees on my street. I heard a passing vehicle's radio playing that old Eagles' song.
“My, oh my, you sure know how to arrange things
You set it up so well, so carefully
Ain't it funny how your new life didn't change things
You're still the same old girl you used to be.”