Busy WeekChapter 3 Carolina
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My Own Private Carolina (Part 1) free porn video
I returned to my hometown for what I assumed would be the last time. My mom finally decided to sell our old family home and move into a condo at the beach. It only made sense for her to do so. Since my father passed away seven years ago, there was nothing left to keep her there, and it was really far too much house for one person. Seeing the stuff of my c***dhood memories boxed up and packed away was bittersweet. Despite the flood of nostalgia, I was happy that my mother was going to spend her golden years in happiness and leisure.
After everything was sent away to storage, Mom said goodbye to go settle into her new home; and I was left alone to do the final cleanup and ready the house for its new occupants. At the end of an exhausting day’s work, I grabbed a cold beer and parked my ass on the front stoop to catch a breath and take in the old neighborhood one last time. When I had arrived a week earlier, I assumed the house next door to be vacant. It was all quiet, and I hadn't seen anyone enter or leave my entire time there. However, I learned from my mother that the house was occupied by an elderly man named Johnson. Mr. Johnson had lately become too feeble to care for himself, so his college-aged granddaughter moved in to look after him. This was the kind of small Southern town where everybody knew everybody else’s business, which is one of the reasons I left. Mom had only met the granddaughter once or twice. All she could tell me about her was that she was polite but very unassuming and basically kept to herself.
I lingered there on the front steps for some time enjoying a cool evening breeze. Reaching into the cooler for a second beer and popping the top, I heard the neighbor’s garage door sliding open. Out walked a young lady carrying a black plastic bag and heading toward the garbage cart at the curb. She wore a knee-length floral skirt, a pair of white Chuck Taylors, and a denim jacket. Her hair was shoulder length and light brown. She was short, I guessed maybe 5’ 2”, and slightly chubby in a very pleasant way. Depositing her bag she turned to go back to the house. Now, looking back on the encounter, I suppose I was a bit rude, but I stared right at her as she walked. Suddenly, she glanced at me without slowing her stride. I acknowledged her look by raising my bottle and saying “hello.” She responded with a barely audible “hi,” and for the briefest instant a subtle smile crossed her face. Then she immediately looked away and reentered the garage and rolled down the door.
It was a most trivial encounter. The kind I’d usually forget about as soon as it happened. You certainly couldn’t say that we ‘met’ in any meaningful way. But there was something about her look - that fleeting smile. I thought about her the rest of the night. I just couldn’t shake her. I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Here I was, obsessing over some girl, at least 15 years younger than me, who I’d not only never met, but had only laid eyes on once for a few seconds. I went back to my hotel and fell asleep dreaming about the face of a girl who’s name I didn’t know.
The next morning I had to return to the old house to finish clearing out the garage: mostly some old tools and fishing gear of my dad’s that Mom asked me to keep for myself. While I was carrying a load out to the truck, I saw a flawless, black, early-seventies vintage Cadillac pulling up to the Johnson house. Out stepped the young lady who’d been stuck in my head since the night before! I watched as she opened the trunk and began to struggle to gather up several large bags of groceries. Without a second thought, I walked right over and offered to help bring them inside. Seeming reluctant at first, she soon accepted my offer with many thanks. We were met at the door by a visiting nurse who ushered us inside. The nurse reported that her grandfather had eaten his lunch, bathed, and was now sleeping soundly. She then left the two of us alone with the groceries. The young lady thanked me again for my help, and introduced herself as Christina. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Seth,” I replied. She must've noticed that I was a little sweaty and dusty, so she offered me a glass of iced tea. Christina asked if I was moving into the house next door. I explained that I was actually only there to help my mom move out and that it had been my c***dhood home. She said she’d been living with her grandfather for about six months, and that his care took up most of her time.
Christina invited me to sit with her on the front porch. We sat, sipping our tea, shaded by the swaying shadow of an old Spanish moss d****d live oak. She asked me where I lived, seeming eager to make conversation. I told her I’d been in Atlanta since I finished college. I learned that she was 23 and was from a hamlet upstate even smaller than my hometown. It turned out that we’d both attended the same university, albeit many years apart. Christina appeared genuinely happy to have someone to talk to. Then, suddenly, in the middle of our pleasant chit-chat, she blurted out, “Do you want to go see a movie with me?” Despite being caught slightly off guard, I quickly accepted her invitation, “Sure,” I said, “Let’s do it!” Christina explained that she only got one evening off each week when the nurse stayed overnight. As luck would have it, that night was tonight. “I’d just as soon not go alone.” she continued. As she talked, I was utterly transfixed by the sight of her. Her eyes reminded me of milk chocolate. Her flawless sunkissed complexion invited touch. We settled on plans for me to pick her up at 6:30. She gave me her phone number
When I pulled up at the Johnson house Christina was waiting on the porch. I stepped out and opened the passenger door of my truck and she hopped in. She thanked me for driving. “I’m always scared when I have to drive Grandpa’s caddy. God, he loves that car!,” Christina said. She was dressed in a short, light yellow sundress and apparently no bra: because the prominent nipples on her little breasts were hard to miss through the insubstantial cotton fabric of her dress. I could just make out the faint outline of white panties stretched across her ample ass. Her plump legs were beautifully smooth and tan, and the white flip flops on her small feet revealed sweet little toes adorned with pale pink nail polish. Her soft, golden brown hair flowed loosely across the tops of her shoulders. She wore little makeup save for a hint of pink gloss on her pouty lips, and a touch of blush accenting the dimples on her cheeks. We drove to the old, two-screen theater downtown. Christina wanted to see the latest Marvel superhero offering, so we bought our tickets and took our seats on the front row. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy the movie, but I was watching her. I was utterly captivated seeing her gasp and laugh.
After the movie, I suggested dinner and Christina appeared delighted by the idea. We picked out a booth at a little diner near my hotel. During dinner we began an in-depth conversation. As it happened, we shared a lot of similar experiences growing up. We both always struggled to fit in, found it difficult to make friends, and neither of us ever felt fully accepted by our peers or our family. We talked about everything. I was struck by how forthcoming and honest Christina was about her past and herself. We were so engrossed in talking that, before we knew it, it was closing time at the diner. “I don’t want to go home yet,” Christina said. “Well, you don’t have to,” I replied. “Come have a drink with me,” I suggested, hopefully. “I have a brand new bottle of bourbon in my hotel room.” She perked up at my suggestion. “I’d like that,” she said.
Christina sat down on the foot of the bed and kicked off her flip-flops. I grabbed the bottle from my suitcase and poured our drinks into paper cups. She seemed to be deep in thought. I sipped my drink, wondering if I’d said something wrong. “You OK?” I asked. She looked directly at me with her intense brown eyes. “I haven’t told you everything,” she said, “. . . about why I had a hard time growing up. Maybe it’s the booze, but you’re a good listener. And for some reason I want to open up to you. Can I tell you something really personal?” I felt slightly honored that she wanted to unburden herself to me, and it goes without saying that I was madly curious to hear what she had to say. “By all means,” I answered her. She then began to tell me a story that left me amazed and intrigued.
When she was born, she was not called Christina but Christian. She was, in fact, a completely physically normal boy. Despite being raised and treated as a boy, Christina never fit in with other boys, and always had a preference for more traditionally feminine things and activities. Her parents tried to force into the role of a male. This caused great alienation between her and her family. Things continued like this until she reached puberty. To everyone’s astonishment she began to develop female physical characteristics. Her breasts grew, her hips widened. In every way (except one, importantly) she was developing the body of a woman. Her parents wanted to pursue medical treatment to stop the transformation, but Christina (as she now decided she wanted to be called) adamantly refused. As far as she was concerned, she was becoming what she knew she was all along. The tension between Christina and her parents only grew worse until, by the time she was 18, her family had basically disowned her. Only her grandparents ever really accepted her for who she was. They took her in and put her through college. This is why she was so devoted to her grandfather.
I listened in amazement, and when she finished her story I looked her directly in the eye. “Christina, you should never feel you have to explain, much less apologize for, who you are. You are a beautiful woman. If you are one of the few people lucky enough to be comfortable in your own skin, you should consider it a gift.” Before I could say another word, she leaned in and kissed me, then pulled back as if to see my reaction. I returned her kiss, relishing the feel of her soft lips against mine. Christina slipped her tongue into my mouth. I ran my fingers through her silky hair, and breathed deeply the floral fragrance of her shampoo. To my complete surprise, the next thing I knew she was pulling her sundress off over her head and was then wearing only her white, cotton panties. I gently laid her back on the bed. As I knelt beside her, I had to take a moment to let my eyes pore over the beauty that lay before me. Christina was so pleasingly plump allover. She had cheeky little budding breasts that I could cover with one hand, and puffy blush pink areolas the size of silver dollars. Her irresistibly suckable nipples were a deeper shade of pink and stood erect like pencil erasers. From the dimples on her cheeks to her sweet little toes her whole body was a healthy shade of sunkissed tan. Her smooth belly bulged ever so slightly just above her panty line. I leaned in and kissed my way up from her belly button to one of her firm nipples. I suckled like my life depended on it, with one hand kneading the other tit and one hand squeezing her ass over her panties.
We kissed again. Christina’s tongue playfully darting in and out, while mine lunged, reaching for the back of her throat. She began unbuttoning my shirt, then reached for my belt buckle. I gladly obliged and shed all of my clothes without releasing my lip lock on her mouth. My cock was already rock-hard. She grabbed it and gripped it tightly. Precum was already dripping from the tip. I held her hand still. “Not yet,” I whispered. Christina reached down to the waistband of her panties. I stilled her hand again. “May I please unwrap that gift?”, I begged her. “But of course,” she replied. She released my cock and laid down on her back. I got down on the floor at the foot of the bed. I pulled her toward me by the legs so that her ass was resting on the edge of the mattress. I tucked my fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. The sight that greeted my eyes when they came off, I can only describe as the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Perched atop a smooth scrotum the size of a ripe plum, her cock was only evident by a tapered foreskin maybe an inch and a half long, all in the same shade of sunkissed pink. Just above her cock was a pudgy fold and I planted a soft kiss right there. She told me that she’d never grown much pubic hair. What little hair there was, whispy and pale blond, it seemed simpler to shave away, so she was completely hairless, and there was not the slightest hint of stubble. I planted soft kisses all over her genitals, and nibbled and tugged gently at her foreskin with my teeth and lips. I grabbed her legs and pushed them back and apart to spread the voluptuous cheeks of her ass, revealing a luscious rose tightly puckered asshole. I buried my face between the pillows of her ass. The soft scent of baby powder filled my nostrils. I licked and thrust my tongue feverishly at her tight hole but I couldn't get in even a centimeter.
Christina got up and asked me to lay on the bed. She squatted over my face and so that we were in a 69 position. As she began stroking my cock, I examined her gorgeous package more closely. In her dainty scrotum, her balls were about the size of olives. I pulled back her foreskin revealing a tiny cock head that looked like a cherry. I sucked it like a madman and I could feel it growing and stiffening in my mouth. Her petite cock grew to almost three inches while I sucked. Meanwhile, she had taken my cock into her mouth. I was very close, but I could tell that she was too because the silky, slippery sensation of precum on my tongue was unmistakable. Her diminutive penis was like an iron rod now. I lubed up a couple of fingers with the precum from her cock and my mouth and gently slid one, then two fingers into her asshole. About two inches in, I began massaging her prostate. That did the trick! Christina’s sphincter tightened around my fingers like a vise. The first gush of cum splashed against the back of my throat. It was thick and warm and tasted salty and sweet at once. To my utter delight, she just kept on surging. I held her semen in my mouth as long as possible to savor the taste, but she continued to fill my mouth up until I had to swallow several times to get it all down. The indescribable taste and feel of her delicious semen pouring down my throat was more than I could stand, and I blew my load into her mouth. She swallowed like a pro, not releasing me from her tightly sealed lips until I felt the last few spurts escape. After a moment she rolled off of me and we lay there for a while. But eventually she got up saying she had to piss. I did too so I followed her to the bathroom. I snuggled up behind her booty and held her penis for her while she urinated in the toilet, then gently shook the dew off of her perfect lily. After I pissed too, we both collapsed on the bed and, spooning like teenagers, drifted off to sleep.
After everything was sent away to storage, Mom said goodbye to go settle into her new home; and I was left alone to do the final cleanup and ready the house for its new occupants. At the end of an exhausting day’s work, I grabbed a cold beer and parked my ass on the front stoop to catch a breath and take in the old neighborhood one last time. When I had arrived a week earlier, I assumed the house next door to be vacant. It was all quiet, and I hadn't seen anyone enter or leave my entire time there. However, I learned from my mother that the house was occupied by an elderly man named Johnson. Mr. Johnson had lately become too feeble to care for himself, so his college-aged granddaughter moved in to look after him. This was the kind of small Southern town where everybody knew everybody else’s business, which is one of the reasons I left. Mom had only met the granddaughter once or twice. All she could tell me about her was that she was polite but very unassuming and basically kept to herself.
I lingered there on the front steps for some time enjoying a cool evening breeze. Reaching into the cooler for a second beer and popping the top, I heard the neighbor’s garage door sliding open. Out walked a young lady carrying a black plastic bag and heading toward the garbage cart at the curb. She wore a knee-length floral skirt, a pair of white Chuck Taylors, and a denim jacket. Her hair was shoulder length and light brown. She was short, I guessed maybe 5’ 2”, and slightly chubby in a very pleasant way. Depositing her bag she turned to go back to the house. Now, looking back on the encounter, I suppose I was a bit rude, but I stared right at her as she walked. Suddenly, she glanced at me without slowing her stride. I acknowledged her look by raising my bottle and saying “hello.” She responded with a barely audible “hi,” and for the briefest instant a subtle smile crossed her face. Then she immediately looked away and reentered the garage and rolled down the door.
It was a most trivial encounter. The kind I’d usually forget about as soon as it happened. You certainly couldn’t say that we ‘met’ in any meaningful way. But there was something about her look - that fleeting smile. I thought about her the rest of the night. I just couldn’t shake her. I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Here I was, obsessing over some girl, at least 15 years younger than me, who I’d not only never met, but had only laid eyes on once for a few seconds. I went back to my hotel and fell asleep dreaming about the face of a girl who’s name I didn’t know.
The next morning I had to return to the old house to finish clearing out the garage: mostly some old tools and fishing gear of my dad’s that Mom asked me to keep for myself. While I was carrying a load out to the truck, I saw a flawless, black, early-seventies vintage Cadillac pulling up to the Johnson house. Out stepped the young lady who’d been stuck in my head since the night before! I watched as she opened the trunk and began to struggle to gather up several large bags of groceries. Without a second thought, I walked right over and offered to help bring them inside. Seeming reluctant at first, she soon accepted my offer with many thanks. We were met at the door by a visiting nurse who ushered us inside. The nurse reported that her grandfather had eaten his lunch, bathed, and was now sleeping soundly. She then left the two of us alone with the groceries. The young lady thanked me again for my help, and introduced herself as Christina. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Seth,” I replied. She must've noticed that I was a little sweaty and dusty, so she offered me a glass of iced tea. Christina asked if I was moving into the house next door. I explained that I was actually only there to help my mom move out and that it had been my c***dhood home. She said she’d been living with her grandfather for about six months, and that his care took up most of her time.
Christina invited me to sit with her on the front porch. We sat, sipping our tea, shaded by the swaying shadow of an old Spanish moss d****d live oak. She asked me where I lived, seeming eager to make conversation. I told her I’d been in Atlanta since I finished college. I learned that she was 23 and was from a hamlet upstate even smaller than my hometown. It turned out that we’d both attended the same university, albeit many years apart. Christina appeared genuinely happy to have someone to talk to. Then, suddenly, in the middle of our pleasant chit-chat, she blurted out, “Do you want to go see a movie with me?” Despite being caught slightly off guard, I quickly accepted her invitation, “Sure,” I said, “Let’s do it!” Christina explained that she only got one evening off each week when the nurse stayed overnight. As luck would have it, that night was tonight. “I’d just as soon not go alone.” she continued. As she talked, I was utterly transfixed by the sight of her. Her eyes reminded me of milk chocolate. Her flawless sunkissed complexion invited touch. We settled on plans for me to pick her up at 6:30. She gave me her phone number
When I pulled up at the Johnson house Christina was waiting on the porch. I stepped out and opened the passenger door of my truck and she hopped in. She thanked me for driving. “I’m always scared when I have to drive Grandpa’s caddy. God, he loves that car!,” Christina said. She was dressed in a short, light yellow sundress and apparently no bra: because the prominent nipples on her little breasts were hard to miss through the insubstantial cotton fabric of her dress. I could just make out the faint outline of white panties stretched across her ample ass. Her plump legs were beautifully smooth and tan, and the white flip flops on her small feet revealed sweet little toes adorned with pale pink nail polish. Her soft, golden brown hair flowed loosely across the tops of her shoulders. She wore little makeup save for a hint of pink gloss on her pouty lips, and a touch of blush accenting the dimples on her cheeks. We drove to the old, two-screen theater downtown. Christina wanted to see the latest Marvel superhero offering, so we bought our tickets and took our seats on the front row. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy the movie, but I was watching her. I was utterly captivated seeing her gasp and laugh.
After the movie, I suggested dinner and Christina appeared delighted by the idea. We picked out a booth at a little diner near my hotel. During dinner we began an in-depth conversation. As it happened, we shared a lot of similar experiences growing up. We both always struggled to fit in, found it difficult to make friends, and neither of us ever felt fully accepted by our peers or our family. We talked about everything. I was struck by how forthcoming and honest Christina was about her past and herself. We were so engrossed in talking that, before we knew it, it was closing time at the diner. “I don’t want to go home yet,” Christina said. “Well, you don’t have to,” I replied. “Come have a drink with me,” I suggested, hopefully. “I have a brand new bottle of bourbon in my hotel room.” She perked up at my suggestion. “I’d like that,” she said.
Christina sat down on the foot of the bed and kicked off her flip-flops. I grabbed the bottle from my suitcase and poured our drinks into paper cups. She seemed to be deep in thought. I sipped my drink, wondering if I’d said something wrong. “You OK?” I asked. She looked directly at me with her intense brown eyes. “I haven’t told you everything,” she said, “. . . about why I had a hard time growing up. Maybe it’s the booze, but you’re a good listener. And for some reason I want to open up to you. Can I tell you something really personal?” I felt slightly honored that she wanted to unburden herself to me, and it goes without saying that I was madly curious to hear what she had to say. “By all means,” I answered her. She then began to tell me a story that left me amazed and intrigued.
When she was born, she was not called Christina but Christian. She was, in fact, a completely physically normal boy. Despite being raised and treated as a boy, Christina never fit in with other boys, and always had a preference for more traditionally feminine things and activities. Her parents tried to force into the role of a male. This caused great alienation between her and her family. Things continued like this until she reached puberty. To everyone’s astonishment she began to develop female physical characteristics. Her breasts grew, her hips widened. In every way (except one, importantly) she was developing the body of a woman. Her parents wanted to pursue medical treatment to stop the transformation, but Christina (as she now decided she wanted to be called) adamantly refused. As far as she was concerned, she was becoming what she knew she was all along. The tension between Christina and her parents only grew worse until, by the time she was 18, her family had basically disowned her. Only her grandparents ever really accepted her for who she was. They took her in and put her through college. This is why she was so devoted to her grandfather.
I listened in amazement, and when she finished her story I looked her directly in the eye. “Christina, you should never feel you have to explain, much less apologize for, who you are. You are a beautiful woman. If you are one of the few people lucky enough to be comfortable in your own skin, you should consider it a gift.” Before I could say another word, she leaned in and kissed me, then pulled back as if to see my reaction. I returned her kiss, relishing the feel of her soft lips against mine. Christina slipped her tongue into my mouth. I ran my fingers through her silky hair, and breathed deeply the floral fragrance of her shampoo. To my complete surprise, the next thing I knew she was pulling her sundress off over her head and was then wearing only her white, cotton panties. I gently laid her back on the bed. As I knelt beside her, I had to take a moment to let my eyes pore over the beauty that lay before me. Christina was so pleasingly plump allover. She had cheeky little budding breasts that I could cover with one hand, and puffy blush pink areolas the size of silver dollars. Her irresistibly suckable nipples were a deeper shade of pink and stood erect like pencil erasers. From the dimples on her cheeks to her sweet little toes her whole body was a healthy shade of sunkissed tan. Her smooth belly bulged ever so slightly just above her panty line. I leaned in and kissed my way up from her belly button to one of her firm nipples. I suckled like my life depended on it, with one hand kneading the other tit and one hand squeezing her ass over her panties.
We kissed again. Christina’s tongue playfully darting in and out, while mine lunged, reaching for the back of her throat. She began unbuttoning my shirt, then reached for my belt buckle. I gladly obliged and shed all of my clothes without releasing my lip lock on her mouth. My cock was already rock-hard. She grabbed it and gripped it tightly. Precum was already dripping from the tip. I held her hand still. “Not yet,” I whispered. Christina reached down to the waistband of her panties. I stilled her hand again. “May I please unwrap that gift?”, I begged her. “But of course,” she replied. She released my cock and laid down on her back. I got down on the floor at the foot of the bed. I pulled her toward me by the legs so that her ass was resting on the edge of the mattress. I tucked my fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. The sight that greeted my eyes when they came off, I can only describe as the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Perched atop a smooth scrotum the size of a ripe plum, her cock was only evident by a tapered foreskin maybe an inch and a half long, all in the same shade of sunkissed pink. Just above her cock was a pudgy fold and I planted a soft kiss right there. She told me that she’d never grown much pubic hair. What little hair there was, whispy and pale blond, it seemed simpler to shave away, so she was completely hairless, and there was not the slightest hint of stubble. I planted soft kisses all over her genitals, and nibbled and tugged gently at her foreskin with my teeth and lips. I grabbed her legs and pushed them back and apart to spread the voluptuous cheeks of her ass, revealing a luscious rose tightly puckered asshole. I buried my face between the pillows of her ass. The soft scent of baby powder filled my nostrils. I licked and thrust my tongue feverishly at her tight hole but I couldn't get in even a centimeter.
Christina got up and asked me to lay on the bed. She squatted over my face and so that we were in a 69 position. As she began stroking my cock, I examined her gorgeous package more closely. In her dainty scrotum, her balls were about the size of olives. I pulled back her foreskin revealing a tiny cock head that looked like a cherry. I sucked it like a madman and I could feel it growing and stiffening in my mouth. Her petite cock grew to almost three inches while I sucked. Meanwhile, she had taken my cock into her mouth. I was very close, but I could tell that she was too because the silky, slippery sensation of precum on my tongue was unmistakable. Her diminutive penis was like an iron rod now. I lubed up a couple of fingers with the precum from her cock and my mouth and gently slid one, then two fingers into her asshole. About two inches in, I began massaging her prostate. That did the trick! Christina’s sphincter tightened around my fingers like a vise. The first gush of cum splashed against the back of my throat. It was thick and warm and tasted salty and sweet at once. To my utter delight, she just kept on surging. I held her semen in my mouth as long as possible to savor the taste, but she continued to fill my mouth up until I had to swallow several times to get it all down. The indescribable taste and feel of her delicious semen pouring down my throat was more than I could stand, and I blew my load into her mouth. She swallowed like a pro, not releasing me from her tightly sealed lips until I felt the last few spurts escape. After a moment she rolled off of me and we lay there for a while. But eventually she got up saying she had to piss. I did too so I followed her to the bathroom. I snuggled up behind her booty and held her penis for her while she urinated in the toilet, then gently shook the dew off of her perfect lily. After I pissed too, we both collapsed on the bed and, spooning like teenagers, drifted off to sleep.
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