Brian saved them both by adjusting the towel and asking her to roll over on her belly. He worked the back of her body as slowly and thoroughly as he had massaged her front. He opened the back of the towel and slid it down til the cleft of her butt showed, and firmly began to stroke her back. She pressed her hips down on the table’s surface, gaining some release from the fire that had been generated in her middle.
She felt his hands grazing the sides of her breasts, consciously willing him to reach further down and touch more of her. Her hips had begun to hunch against the table surface slowly. She tried to will herself to stop moving, but she only succeeded in raising her chest slightly off the table, encouraging his hands to touch more of her breasts. She began to whimper, her pelvis rotating, sending waves of pleasure throughout her midsection. Her hips twitched and the towel fell to the floor.
Her spread legs exposed her damp twitching pussy to his gaze. She was embarrassed. She was ashamed. She was hot! She rolled to her back, staring at the beautiful sweating man. She slowly spread her legs wide, heels up on the table. She reached for him, pulling him to her by his tight tee shirt. Sharon, now wallowing in physical sensations she had been missing for two years, held his curly dark hair and kissed his full sweet lips. Her probing tongue took it’s time exploring his perfect teeth.
Her passion, untapped for so long, flowered inside her until she was consumed. She reached for the shrouded hardness at his crotch, reveling in the feel of his hardness. She encouraged the exploration of his hands, pressing her breasts into them. She shivered when he touched her between her legs in her most secret of places, thrusting her open pussy at his seeking fingers.
Brian could barely breathe. Sharon sucked the breath from him, starved for the firm touch of a man. He had never been kissed so thoroughly, so hungrily. He didn’t know her, but it was obvious to him that no man had touched her in a very long time…every nerve in his body screamed at him to be careful. They also screamed for release. Refusing to take her lips from his, and breathing harshly through her nose, Sharon freed his engorged penis from its prison within the white pants.
She felt it swelling in her hand as she stroked it up and down, marveling at the contrast between the softness of the skin and the hardness of the blood filled organ beneath. It was so hot that it seared her brain to even realize what she held in her hand. Lips still locked to his, she reached down and pushed the pants down over his hips and his taut ass. Too hungry for the feel of him, she tugged him over her and seated the throbbing cock deep within her in one smooth motion. It was accomplished in seconds, but time froze in her brain as the hot hard shaft penetrated her. The short trip from the entrance to her grasping pussy to the depths of her long untouched womb seemed to take forever. When it reached as far as it would go she came gratefully, legs locking around the small of his back, little cries of delight uttering between her lips and his mouth.
He could only stutter “I’m sorry” when she looked up at him. He tried to back away from her but her legs remained locked behind him, refusing to let him go. She gently pulled his head back down to her breasts, holding him tightly to her, caressing his hair. “I’m sorry” she said. “You came over here just to do the job you were paid to do and I acted like a cheap whore.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do after this” she said, “how can I face my girls after this?” Brian was at a total loss for words. His mind stumbled over a few trite phrases, then he simply said what he felt. “I don’t know why this happened, and I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you,” he said into one beautiful perfectly shaped breast, “but it felt to me like you really needed to do this and I was available.”
She let him up, not bothering to cover herself, and sat cross legged on the table looking at him. “I did need it” she said, “but I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. I’m a grown woman with responsibilities and I should have restrained myself.” “But you were marvelous” she said with a small smile. “And if it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else.” “I don’t think you’re a whore at all” he said, “I just think you needed somebody and I’m glad it was me.”
He leaned forward and kissed her lips very softly. She moaned against his lips and reached for his still hard cock. “You don’t have to…” he started. She locked her eyes on his for a moment. “I know” she said. “You didn’t even cum.” She lowered her head to his swollen shaft, licking slowly around its head. She sucked it into her mouth lovingly, moving her head rhythmically, unconsciously comparing it to the only other cock she had ever even seen. She knew Tim had loved this, and from his reaction Brian loved it to. Pushing him to his back, she knelt over him, sucking lightly and cupping his big heavy balls. When he convulsed and came, she didn’t pull away.
Her shyness came back suddenly when they were finished, and she reached for her terry cloth robe. “I really want you to know I’ve never done anything like this before” she said. Brian smiled shyly back at her ”I didn’t think you had.”
She sat curled up on her sofa, wrapped from head to toe in her thickest bathrobe, drinking chamomile tea and cursing her weakness. She had brazenly seduced that young man as if she had no morals at all. Sharon ignored the relief that flooded through her body and didn’t take note at all that she was alert and thinking clearly for the first time she could remember since Tim was taken from her. She was awake almost an hour and a half since what would normally have been her bedtime.
The kids came home and she greeted them, making hot cocoa for them before they all got ready for bed. She talked with them about school, their friends, and their plans for the future. It was a very pleasant evening for all of them, and each was reluctant to head for their rooms.
Ashley, Kate, and Donna sat with their heads together on the foot of Kate’s bed. “That must have been some massage” Kate said. “She looks ten years younger than she did when we left!” The girls high fived as they split up to get in their own beds. Thomas stuck his head inside their bedroom door. “Mom got laid!” he said in a hoarse stage whisper. Three pillows struck the door jamb as he ducked back into the hallway.
They all piled into the car on Saturday, in a somber mood except for Thomas. At least once a month they visited Tim’s grandmother in the nursing home. She was over ninety years old and her mind was clear and she was sharp as a tack. Tim had loved her dearly, and had visited every weekend, but she always asked about Sharon and the kids so he insisted they all go once a month, and the practice hadn’t died with him.
They called her Grannie Higgins, even though she was their Great Grandmother. She loved her visits, though they tired her these days. Thomas was her favorite because he reminded her so much of Tim, though she tried hard not to show it. She greeted them all from her bed, hugs and kisses all around. She saw immediately that Sharon was troubled deeply and after the conversations died down, she shooed the children outside, telling them she needed to talk to Sharon.
Grannie Higgins sat up a little straighter in the bed and smoothed the comforter on her bed. “Come here dear” she said, patting the comforter. Sharon, blushing like a little girl, was sure her sins were showing, sat on the edge of the bed. The old woman reached for her hand. “What’s troubling you?” Grannie asked. “Oh God,” Sharon gasped, “I can’t talk with you about this you’re…” “Old fashioned?” Grannie chuckled.
“I don’t have to be young again to see you’ve finally begun to recover. It’s plain to me that you’ve finally come out of your widow’s weeds and started to live again…or want to and are afraid. If I weren’t afraid to shock you, I’d tell you that you look as though some young man has given you a tumble” she said. Sharon’s blush deepened. Grannie Higgins looked at her in mock surprise “Girl, I’ve lived a long life and there isn’t much I haven’t seen or heard.”
“Did Timmy ever tell you I was married before I met his Grandpa?” Sharon nodded her head no. “My first husband was the sweetest man, and I still love him today.” Sharon’s eyes went to the old wo
man’s questioningly. “I expect there will be quite a conversation on the day I get to heaven,” she said, “If I know my husbands, and I do, that should be quite an occasion!” “Alfred was my first. We were married about a year before the war. That man was in my panties hot and heavy from the time we got out of the church building! I could deny him nothing from the very beginning. No matter how outlandish the desire, I matched him with one of my own. Alfred was the sexiest man I’ve ever known.” She looked at Sharon, who was shocked.
“You think you young one’s invented sex?’” she asked. Sharon giggled at the old woman’s fire. “When my Alfred was killed in the war, I had a huge problem. We didn’t have it as good as you girls today. Back then ‘good girls’ didn’t have sex with men they weren’t married to” she said. “Alfred had lit a fire in me that wouldn’t go out. I tried everything from ice packs to women’s retreats at the church. By the time I met Timmy’s granddaddy I was ready to explode” she explained. “The first time I laid eyes on him I wanted him, and the first time he took me out we didn’t get to the end of the lane before I damn near raped him,” she chuckled, “not that he had any problems with that.” “All you need to know from this little conversation dear, is that our Timmy wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone. ‘Good girls’ like sex as much as men do. I know you have four wonderful children very close together and you didn’t get them by keeping your legs together!” she laughed. She winked at Sharon “I still miss getting a little man meat to play with once in a while!”
Sharon waited anxiously for the doorbell. She had scheduled her second massage, but hadn’t specified Brian as her masseuse. If fate sent him again to her door, she’d take him as a gift. If someone else showed up she’d take it as a sign that she should restrain herself. The doorbell rang, and it was Brian.
He didn’t even manage to get the massage table set up before Sharon was on him. She grinned as she remembered Grannie Higgins telling her about raping Tim’s Grandfather. She dropped her robe and it puddled around her ankles, and she reached for Brian. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back” she whispered. “I was afraid you’d send me away” he whispered back as she knelt to take his already swollen cock into her mouth. He bent to touch her breasts with his hands, caressing her, making her nipples stand erect. She dragged him to the floor so she could have better control as she licked and sucked at him, reveling in his quivering excitement. She touched her clit lightly as she worked at him, dragging it out for him and for her.
She climbed back up his body, kissing her way to his lips. She kissed him deeply, her passion rising as she felt the hard length of him slide between her legs. She rose above him, centering her clit on the bottom of his hard cock, moving her hips gently so that she slid back and forth wetly on it. It was excruciatingly pleasurable. Brian grasped her shoulders and rolled her over onto her back. He traced his way down her body, his tongue leaving shiny wet tracks. He kissed and licked her toes. Sharon arched her back in surprise as he kissed the sides and arch of her feet, unable to believe the incredible sensations she was feeling. How could her feet be an erogenous zone? He kissed her ankles, and when he licked gently at the back of her knees she had to bite back a scream of pleasure.
He kissed inside her thighs, taking his time, beginning to lightly bite at the flesh, then kissing and licking the delicate surfaces. When he reached the now swollen lips of her pussy, he licked all around them, but went on past to the sensitive area of skin beneath her navel. Sharon’s hands were clenched in his hair. She moaned and writhed, her legs opening and closing spasmodically. By the time he reached her neck she was panting and shuddering. Sharon had long since given up wondering which new part of her body would turn into an erogenous zone, Brian’s tongue had worked magic. Every place he touched, licked, kissed, or nibbled brought her to the very edge of cumming…everywhere he touched made her push that part of her body towards him. As he lay alongside her, finally back to her swollen lips, he whispered to her. “Are you ready to cum?” he asked. As she rocked against him, every inch of her body crying out in need, she gasped into his open mouth “Yes, oh yes!” His pleased chuckle rang in her ears. “How do you want to cum?” he asked. “I don’t care!” she shrieked. “I need to cum!” Her thrashing body told him it was true.
He took a deep breath, and hilted himself in her throbbing pussy. Sharon bucked wildly, driving herself upwards, cumming around the hot cock buried inside her. “Cum with me Brian, cum inside my pussy!” The words came out strangled as she writhed beneath him. Unable to hold back any longer, Brian did not have to move. Her hot breath in his ear and the jarring effect of her words unleashed the torrent built up within him. He spilled his hot fluids inside her, each spurt sending thrills up his spine and curling his toes.
He lay spent atop and inside her, both of them comfortable and not moving. She played with his hair and enjoyed the feel of his weight on her and the still semi hard column of flesh inside her. His cum was heavy inside her, coating her with it’s wet warmth. “That’s not what I came over here to do,” he said, “I didn’t just take it for granted we’d do this again.” Sharon nuzzled his neck. “But you wanted to, didn’t you? “Yes,” he admitted, but I didn’t want you to think I was taking it for granted.” “I’m not worried any more,” she sighed, “I know I’m still a good girl.”
By Danica Williams
Copyright © 2011 Danica Williams
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content and is intended for a mature audience only.
All persons portrayed in this book are over 18 years of age.
It had been months since Lita had stopped drinking, and had been a few months more since she had last seen Jordan. They had shared their lives for five years, and had shared an apartment for four. The last time that they had spoke is when mutual friends were moving them out of their home, helping them divide their property and their connections. Lita had been the employed one of the couple, spending nearly sixty hours a week looking after someone else’s children. Jordan was a professional slacker, spending his waking hours either working on his bike or on her computer playing online games with his other jobless friends or looking at porn. After everyone had helped them clean out their apartment, and the only things left were her, him and some bubble wrap, she wished him luck on whatever he was going to do. He stood there, with his one bag full of dirty clothes, a toolbox full of used bike parts and a blank expression on his face, and wished her the same.
One of the biggest problems that they had had as a couple was his drinking. He would start hours before she got home at nine from work, already slurring his words and missing a step or two. By the time she got him ready for bed, having him piss one last time so he wouldn’t wet the bed, he couldn’t even talk. She never did find out where he got the money for whatever he was drinking: beer that was damned near water, wine that stank of chemicals and small plastic bottles of booze that smelled of gasoline. She figured that since each day the empty cans and bottles would disappear, he must have been recycling—which was the only time he could ever have been called industrious. The irony of the situation is that once the two of them had split and his alcoholism was out of her life, she developed a nasty little taste of it herself.
She got to keep most of the friends from the breakup, though the ones she kept were not that friendly. Most of the guys tried to sleep with her at first, taking her out and liquoring her up—though their plans never worked out because she would leave with someone else. She figured that it was best not to sleep with anyone too soon after the breakup, since there was always a possibility of Jordan getting his act together, leading the way for them to get back together. She would, of course, make out with them. In those early hazy days, she figured she took home probably around twenty guys, though never more than one in a single night.
Having someone to kiss was good, but what she really wanted was to cudd
le. With each one, she would tumble through the door of her new apartment, kiss all the way back to her bedroom while they shed their clothing and then would roll around the bed until dawn. She would always give her number to her innocent one-night-stands the next morning, but she would never answer when they called. Each one would only phone her once, and then they would leave her to her desired solitude.
When she finally kicked the drink and would try and remember each man she kissed during that time, she could never remember a face. She did remember other things. She remembered how they would gently kiss her neck, and how they would nibble at her ears. She remembered how they would brush their hands against her nipples, making them hard, and how they would cup her breasts and massage them. She remembered how they would try to slide a hand between her thighs, and how she always outmaneuvered them. She remembered them pressing their stiffness against her back and into her leg as they feigned sleep. She remembered that each morning she would wake up with a stranger who only saw her as an object and not a person.
She would wonder each day as her mind became clearer and her thoughts became sharper what she was searching for all those nights. Of course, she already knew. She was searching for Jordan; searching for the first man to ever really pleasure her; searching for her companion with kisses like sugar and arms that would wrap around her like a big, warm security blanket. Each night when a strange man would press his lips against hers and envelop her in his arms, she would close her eyes and pretend that it was Jordan. If only he would get better, she thought, then I could go back to him.
But in all those nights, whoever shared her bed never transformed into Jordan by the morning. In truth, she vaguely remembered that each morning, the faces had become increasingly ugly, that each man became less kempt and more unruly than one before—an invitation into her bed had become so common it was if anyone was allowed. Months later, when the rotten times were behind her and she was putting all the jagged little pieces together, she was shocked that she had never woken up next to a hobo.
15 Erotic Stories BUNDLE: Huge Collection of Individually Sold Short Sex Stories Page 23