SYLVIA MAKING MY SEXUAL FANTASIES HAPPEN
- 2 years ago
- 21
- 0
Sylvia Decides To Pass Up Sex This Time Or Does Sh free porn video
I knew that after I left Krohn's Discount Fashion Palace, Gretchen and Judy were going to do some sex stuff. I had not stopped lusting after Gretchen since I had created that picture in my mind of her dark pussy curls behind the lace of her white panties. Is every girl as perverted as me? Judy was going to slide them off her brown thighs, and her brown butt, get her bra off, kiss and kiss and touch her all over, rub her face in between Gretchen's legs, and put her sexy fucking kisses in there, too, finding Gretchen's clittie and teasing it until Gretchen got all soppy wet. Gretchen would be lifting her ass and pushing her cunt into Judy's mouth. Judy would have two fingers up her. The thought of that was driving me nuts. I wanted to get my mouth on her pussy, too! I wanted to taste her and feel her get excited, not to get on a stupid bus for another voice lesson with Miss Hanscomb. I was committed to the voice lesson. I knew that if I was going to sing on the great stages of the world, I HAD to do the singing lesson.
Judy told me about it later. Both of us had sex with her a few times. I was right. Gretchen had just the dream pussy for me, and she was so sweet and loving about sharing it. I didn't care if she did me or not, but she did, and I came for her like a Guatemalan volcano!.
On the bus ride to Miss Hanscomb's, way out in Eagle Rock, I was so dreamy and tired. Gretchen had found a pink polyester blend business outfit, with a little jacket and a fitted pink skirt. I had a white blouse to go with it. I wasn't so sure about all that pink and the red RED lipstick with my fair skin. But Gretchen was Guatemalan. The more color, the better! Gretchen splashed me with some ''Evening in Paris'' perfume, and I was off to continue my music career. In all the clothing that I owned, I did not have a single item in pink, and now I was on the bus, serious and focused, reading through my scores, looking like Miss California Rosebud.
I hoped that I looked weird enough so that all the men who saw me left me alone. I didn't want to be distracted. It is a long bus ride. I had never tried to do it before, and I sat there and rode and rode. Los Angeles is a city made for cars, not buses, so going ANYWHERE on the bus takes a while.
I looked like a virgin, in pink, but in my mind, I was thinking about what I had just been doing, my head was full of images of cocks from the glory hole, and pussies that belonged to Judy and Gretchen. After all that sex, I was still horny for Gretchen. I felt weird to be horny at all after what I had been doing, but I had had a ton of sex today, but only one little cum from it!
I knew that just about now, Gretchen would be making some sweet sex noise while Judy pushed her legs apart, Gretchen would put her hands on the back of Judy's head and pull her in, yum yum. Oh fuck, I wanted that. I needed to think about something else, or I would start playing with myself in the stupid bus seat.
I closed my eyes and nodded off a little. I had this image of this afternoon when Neal had been fucking my little puss like he was the penis wizard, and right before he came, I got off him and spun around, so I got all of it in my mouth. You probably think I'm a fucking cum-sponge, but, usually, right in my mouth, down my throat, is not quite tea with the Duchess for me. I did it as fast and as dirty and nasty as I could for him to see, j because I liked him, I loved the way he fucked me, and I wanted to make him happy.
He was surprised, but he loved it. I like bisexual men. They always kiss you wherever they shoot on you — Ummmmmm Neal, what a fuckin' sweetie.
I quickly opened my eyes. My puss was damp, the bus, nearly at the stop. I sure hoped that when I got to Miss Hanscomb's, I didn't smell like an afternoon at the used cunt club.
Of course, I guess you knew that Miss Hanscomb was kinky. The mob guys killed my friend Al, and they killed her, too. After she and Al Lombardi died, they went into her house. Oh my god. It was all in the newspaper, but, of course, they left a lot out of the paper, because there were plenty of well known and famous people who came to her stucco house in Eagle Rock for "lessons."
I didn't know about any of this until today I'll say she gave lessons. For the past year, all she had given me were voice lessons, and she was excellent, too, she was the best voice teacher...but Miss Hanscomb was a bitch, I hate to say that about anyone, particularly someone who taught me so much, but she was. She was never kind to me, never, but on the August evening, I came to my lesson after being a cummy cum slut at the glory hole; that's when it got weird.
I was right on time, but she said I was late and told me she couldn't continue to keep me as a pupil if I didn't respect her schedule. I didn't answer. I tried to pay her with the cash I had made today, and she got all pissy with me about THAT, saying I should know by this time that she always gets paid by check for her records and mine. I hadn't noticed, because I still hadn't counted the money, but I think there was dried-up semen on some of the bills. She looked at the twenty-dollar note, held it up to the light, looked at the money again, and at me. She gave me a curious look. ''It looks as if you've had a busy day already, dear."
There was a Handel aria that she wanted me to learn. It takes a lot of concentration to do it right, but even when I got it right, I wasn't too crazy about it! She was playing the piano, and I was singing from the score. All think about was Judy and Gretchen. I must have snapped a tube or something at the bookstore. Usually, I do my sex thing, whatever it is, even if it's an orgy. After it's over, I put it away in my mind and go on to something else. But tonight, I thought that right now, Judy's ears were pushing Gretchen's thighs, her face and her tongue and her mouth, and her fucking lips were where mine was supposed to be. Every time I closed my eyes, as I often did to reach and hear the correct sound in my head, I had a clear picture of two fat women's naked bodies on each other. It was making me nuts, it was screwing up my lesson, and Miss Hanscomb, no fool she, was right on my case:
`For the very first time, I saw Miss Hanscomb drop her mask.
"Sylvia, we need to stop our lesson. I know you are trying, dear, I can tell that I appreciate that you are making an effort. What I an asking you to do with this Handel aria is not simple, I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't think it was in your range, musically, mentally, emotionally, artistically. ..But your mind is not with me tonight, I can tell. I can tell, because, so often when you come to your lesson, for a girl your age, for a young woman, you give the music every bit of your attention. Every bit. Unusual. I appreciate your being on time, and your attention to your appearance, though my dear, please, never again go out in pink, I beg of you."
"I also have a lot on my mind this evening, dear. My husband is very ill. I think he will die soon, no matter what I do or say."
"You are grown up enough to share a drink and talk about matters of love and sex, I think? What would you like?"
Her hand so gently brushed, well, more than lightly brushed or.touched my knee.
It didn't matter how much sex I had had, how was a sixteen-year-old supposed to respond to that?
Miss Hanscomb returned with two half-filled brandy snifters.
"Well, I think this will be nice."
She sat close to me, so close that her hip was touching mine.
"Honestly, Sylvia, you look quite lovely...I don't think that pink is your color with your red hair and complexion.Sylvia, I know you think of me as your voice teacher, and that is how I designed our relationship to be. But we are not on the clock now. Sylvia dear. There is so much going on for me, with me, to me. My concentration is as interrupted as yours is tonight. When we are in the lesson, I would prefer that you continue to call me "Miss Hanscomb," but now, please call me "Olga," which is my given name. Is that all right with you?'"
"Oh sure, Olga. fine, that's cool with me.." I said, not having the slightest idea what this woman was up to, but sometimes I get a little buzz feeling around my girly spots when I think something sexual is about to surprise me. I was starting to feel that feeling right now.
'Sylvia, I had to work and work and work to become a voice teacher. When I was your age, a little younger, I was growing up in a little town in Norway, on a fjord. My parents loved me. I played the piano, the violin and I loved to sing. I wanted to be like Birgit Neilson and other Norwegian women opera singers.''
''In 1940, the German Nazi's invaded our country, and they were too powerful, too organized..they defeated our brave soldiers and took hold of our country.''
''Those bastards..how we hated them, even if a lot of their soldiers were young boys not so different from me...I mean, if you look at a Norwegian and a German, how can you tell the difference?"
"But we were k**s, we teased and mocked them as much as we could without getting ourselves sent to a Nazi prison. I had an eye for the boys, I did, and my sex feelings were developing, too. In Norway, it is not like here; everyone understands that.it's hard to explain. "
"I met this one German boy, a soldier, yes, he was from Hamburg, a big modern city, and he was amusing and cute. He didn't give a fig for Hitler or the Nazis or any of that. I knew that if I had sex with him, I would be driven from my village and shunned from my family forever...but Sylvia, I think you can understand, I wanted him. In my arms, in my bed, in between my legs. I wanted him. Do you know how sex feelings are when you are so young? I didn't dare tell anyone about my feelings, especially him, but that didn't mean the feelings went away..."
Olga put her hand on my knee.
"I had to play with myself a lot just for the relief, you know, I saw him every day.."
There was a silent moment, Olga and I sipped the brandy. Whatever was happening, I knew this wasn't the end of the story for tonight.
Judy told me about it later. Both of us had sex with her a few times. I was right. Gretchen had just the dream pussy for me, and she was so sweet and loving about sharing it. I didn't care if she did me or not, but she did, and I came for her like a Guatemalan volcano!.
On the bus ride to Miss Hanscomb's, way out in Eagle Rock, I was so dreamy and tired. Gretchen had found a pink polyester blend business outfit, with a little jacket and a fitted pink skirt. I had a white blouse to go with it. I wasn't so sure about all that pink and the red RED lipstick with my fair skin. But Gretchen was Guatemalan. The more color, the better! Gretchen splashed me with some ''Evening in Paris'' perfume, and I was off to continue my music career. In all the clothing that I owned, I did not have a single item in pink, and now I was on the bus, serious and focused, reading through my scores, looking like Miss California Rosebud.
I hoped that I looked weird enough so that all the men who saw me left me alone. I didn't want to be distracted. It is a long bus ride. I had never tried to do it before, and I sat there and rode and rode. Los Angeles is a city made for cars, not buses, so going ANYWHERE on the bus takes a while.
I looked like a virgin, in pink, but in my mind, I was thinking about what I had just been doing, my head was full of images of cocks from the glory hole, and pussies that belonged to Judy and Gretchen. After all that sex, I was still horny for Gretchen. I felt weird to be horny at all after what I had been doing, but I had had a ton of sex today, but only one little cum from it!
I knew that just about now, Gretchen would be making some sweet sex noise while Judy pushed her legs apart, Gretchen would put her hands on the back of Judy's head and pull her in, yum yum. Oh fuck, I wanted that. I needed to think about something else, or I would start playing with myself in the stupid bus seat.
I closed my eyes and nodded off a little. I had this image of this afternoon when Neal had been fucking my little puss like he was the penis wizard, and right before he came, I got off him and spun around, so I got all of it in my mouth. You probably think I'm a fucking cum-sponge, but, usually, right in my mouth, down my throat, is not quite tea with the Duchess for me. I did it as fast and as dirty and nasty as I could for him to see, j because I liked him, I loved the way he fucked me, and I wanted to make him happy.
He was surprised, but he loved it. I like bisexual men. They always kiss you wherever they shoot on you — Ummmmmm Neal, what a fuckin' sweetie.
I quickly opened my eyes. My puss was damp, the bus, nearly at the stop. I sure hoped that when I got to Miss Hanscomb's, I didn't smell like an afternoon at the used cunt club.
Of course, I guess you knew that Miss Hanscomb was kinky. The mob guys killed my friend Al, and they killed her, too. After she and Al Lombardi died, they went into her house. Oh my god. It was all in the newspaper, but, of course, they left a lot out of the paper, because there were plenty of well known and famous people who came to her stucco house in Eagle Rock for "lessons."
I didn't know about any of this until today I'll say she gave lessons. For the past year, all she had given me were voice lessons, and she was excellent, too, she was the best voice teacher...but Miss Hanscomb was a bitch, I hate to say that about anyone, particularly someone who taught me so much, but she was. She was never kind to me, never, but on the August evening, I came to my lesson after being a cummy cum slut at the glory hole; that's when it got weird.
I was right on time, but she said I was late and told me she couldn't continue to keep me as a pupil if I didn't respect her schedule. I didn't answer. I tried to pay her with the cash I had made today, and she got all pissy with me about THAT, saying I should know by this time that she always gets paid by check for her records and mine. I hadn't noticed, because I still hadn't counted the money, but I think there was dried-up semen on some of the bills. She looked at the twenty-dollar note, held it up to the light, looked at the money again, and at me. She gave me a curious look. ''It looks as if you've had a busy day already, dear."
There was a Handel aria that she wanted me to learn. It takes a lot of concentration to do it right, but even when I got it right, I wasn't too crazy about it! She was playing the piano, and I was singing from the score. All think about was Judy and Gretchen. I must have snapped a tube or something at the bookstore. Usually, I do my sex thing, whatever it is, even if it's an orgy. After it's over, I put it away in my mind and go on to something else. But tonight, I thought that right now, Judy's ears were pushing Gretchen's thighs, her face and her tongue and her mouth, and her fucking lips were where mine was supposed to be. Every time I closed my eyes, as I often did to reach and hear the correct sound in my head, I had a clear picture of two fat women's naked bodies on each other. It was making me nuts, it was screwing up my lesson, and Miss Hanscomb, no fool she, was right on my case:
`For the very first time, I saw Miss Hanscomb drop her mask.
"Sylvia, we need to stop our lesson. I know you are trying, dear, I can tell that I appreciate that you are making an effort. What I an asking you to do with this Handel aria is not simple, I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't think it was in your range, musically, mentally, emotionally, artistically. ..But your mind is not with me tonight, I can tell. I can tell, because, so often when you come to your lesson, for a girl your age, for a young woman, you give the music every bit of your attention. Every bit. Unusual. I appreciate your being on time, and your attention to your appearance, though my dear, please, never again go out in pink, I beg of you."
"I also have a lot on my mind this evening, dear. My husband is very ill. I think he will die soon, no matter what I do or say."
"You are grown up enough to share a drink and talk about matters of love and sex, I think? What would you like?"
Her hand so gently brushed, well, more than lightly brushed or.touched my knee.
It didn't matter how much sex I had had, how was a sixteen-year-old supposed to respond to that?
Miss Hanscomb returned with two half-filled brandy snifters.
"Well, I think this will be nice."
She sat close to me, so close that her hip was touching mine.
"Honestly, Sylvia, you look quite lovely...I don't think that pink is your color with your red hair and complexion.Sylvia, I know you think of me as your voice teacher, and that is how I designed our relationship to be. But we are not on the clock now. Sylvia dear. There is so much going on for me, with me, to me. My concentration is as interrupted as yours is tonight. When we are in the lesson, I would prefer that you continue to call me "Miss Hanscomb," but now, please call me "Olga," which is my given name. Is that all right with you?'"
"Oh sure, Olga. fine, that's cool with me.." I said, not having the slightest idea what this woman was up to, but sometimes I get a little buzz feeling around my girly spots when I think something sexual is about to surprise me. I was starting to feel that feeling right now.
'Sylvia, I had to work and work and work to become a voice teacher. When I was your age, a little younger, I was growing up in a little town in Norway, on a fjord. My parents loved me. I played the piano, the violin and I loved to sing. I wanted to be like Birgit Neilson and other Norwegian women opera singers.''
''In 1940, the German Nazi's invaded our country, and they were too powerful, too organized..they defeated our brave soldiers and took hold of our country.''
''Those bastards..how we hated them, even if a lot of their soldiers were young boys not so different from me...I mean, if you look at a Norwegian and a German, how can you tell the difference?"
"But we were k**s, we teased and mocked them as much as we could without getting ourselves sent to a Nazi prison. I had an eye for the boys, I did, and my sex feelings were developing, too. In Norway, it is not like here; everyone understands that.it's hard to explain. "
"I met this one German boy, a soldier, yes, he was from Hamburg, a big modern city, and he was amusing and cute. He didn't give a fig for Hitler or the Nazis or any of that. I knew that if I had sex with him, I would be driven from my village and shunned from my family forever...but Sylvia, I think you can understand, I wanted him. In my arms, in my bed, in between my legs. I wanted him. Do you know how sex feelings are when you are so young? I didn't dare tell anyone about my feelings, especially him, but that didn't mean the feelings went away..."
Olga put her hand on my knee.
"I had to play with myself a lot just for the relief, you know, I saw him every day.."
There was a silent moment, Olga and I sipped the brandy. Whatever was happening, I knew this wasn't the end of the story for tonight.
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