You re mine now sissy a continuation 2
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This Is A Continuation Of Things, Chapter 2 free porn video
Chapter 2- Kim and Tarri Jean
While in school in NJ, I dated three or four girls. All the relationships were platonic, just simple dates with nice school mates. During my senior year, I escorted a girl that had just moved to town and knew no one. My mother had sold them a home and the mother asked my mother if I would take her daughter, Kim, to a school dance and introduce her to my friends. I asked her what Kim looked like. My mother said she saw her from a distance once and said she looked tall, thin, had nice features, and long blond hair. She laughed and said Kim’s mother described her as a thin girl whose breasts never stopped growing.
Of course, I would take her.
We went to the dance where I introduced her to my old school mates and enjoyed my time with her. While she was no raving beauty, she was attractive and funny. I asked her to go for pizza the next afternoon as I knew there would be guys I knew hanging out at Mama LaRosa’s and she might meet some new faces she would recall while walking the halls at her new school. Oh, and her breasts looked amazing from what I could tell. I made no attempt to give them a closer inspection as the "date" was a favor to my mother.
The home next door, where Mrs. G had lived was dark and empty. It was sort of sad not to be able to run over and enjoy seeing her. Late that evening, I boarded the night train that would carry me back to school in Virginia where I was due back at noon the next day
.
I had been going steady with girl back in Virginia. On my return and with just two months remaining in my senior year, I knew I would graduate leaving her behind. I called her to inquire about my senior dance and to see if she had given any thought to what she was wearing. In the conversation, I was asked what I did over my break and I candidly told her about escorting Kim to a dance to introduce her to my friends.
She was livid and hung up on me. Repeated calls to her over the next two weeks were unanswered. With six weeks to my exams and graduation, I sent her a note of apology asking her if she still wanted to go to the dance with me. With no reply, I called and left a message telling her I would find another date. In a call home, I explained my situation and asked my mother if it would be okay to invite Kim down for the weekend. My mother said it would be okay, that there was plenty of room in the car for all of us, and that I should probably contact her as soon as possible. But, first, she said she wanted to call Kim’s mother to clear it with her first.
I had a job at school which would pay me $500 on the last day of school and told my mother that I would pay for Kim’s room, meals and any other associated costs for the weekend. The two mothers discussed it and when I called Kim, she was excited at the prospect of attending a formal military ball with me.
The weekend arrived. My exam grades were all high as were my semester grades. Graduating with honors, I learned earlier I was the recipient of a full-ride, four-year scholarship that also provided a monthly income of $50. My folks were excited. Kim was one of the prettiest girls at the dance- amazing what a girl looks like with her hair all fixed up, great makeup that showed off her eyes and blond hair, and a strapless dress that defied gravity while supporting her sizable breasts.
The dance went well. We hardly sat for a minute spending our time with my school mates or dancing. My mother told me I could have the use of her car, a blue Oldsmobile 98 convertible, for the evening. When the dance ended, Kim and I got in the car and drove out US 250 to the east to climb up to Afton Gap where the television show, The Waltons, was based. The night was perfectly clear giving a perfect view of Virginia as it stretched out to Charlottesville and beyond. On the drive, Kim sat next to me rubbing the inside of my leg the entire time. I found the turn off for the panoramic view parking and we got out to take a look.
My, could that girl kiss.
I walked her back to the car and opened the door to let her in, closed it and walked around to my side. By the time I got the door opened, she had unzipped the tope of her gown in the back a bit and rolled the front of her dress down to expose herself. If you recall the old conical drinking cups that were found at water coolers and doubled the size, it might come close to describing the shape of her breasts. There was no sag. The nipples sat on the tip and were the size of pencil erasers. As I got in, she reached up and pulled me over taking my hand and putting them on her breasts closest to me.
We kissed for a little while and I played with her breasts. It was only the second pair I had every really felt- Mrs. G had been the first.
Well, there was an Italian girl I enjoyed for a moment who pulled my mouth onto her nipple while we made out on a blanket the previous 4th of July. Her nipple was surrounded by hair and one got caught between my front teeth and I pulled it out when my head jerked back in surprise. I laughed, got slapped, and the experience was over faster than it started. So, that boob should not count!
Kim pulled away from my kiss and asked me to suck her nipple. I did. And, while doing so, she rearranged her gown, took my hand, put it between her legs, and asked me to help her cum. She felt wetter than Mrs. G did after I had cum in her twice. And, climax, Kim had them in rapid fire order, seconds apart. However, it was all about her. She made no effort to unzip me, rub me, or pleasure me. Hell, I did not care. She was hot and out of control. And, there were cars pulling off US 250 into the viewing area and leaving. A parade of them. It would be easy for Kim to rearrange her dress should someone come up. Like the sheriff or other law enforcement agency. What the hell, my night was coming to an end and I had to get here back to her room and check in with my mother.
Summer was ahead of us and we’d be driving back the next day.
Okay, this chapter is about Tarri, not Kim. I will get to her in a moment after I describe the weeks following my graduation. Kim and I saw each other nearly every night. When my mother did not need her car, I was free to use it providing I kept it washed, full of gas, asked in advance to borrow it, and told my mother what I would be doing. Kim lived less than ½ mile from us, it was ½ mile to Houston Street- a dark, quiet street for parking and making out, ½ mile back to her home and ½ mile back to mine. An evening put a couple of miles on the car, three at most. The area was residential with the nearest businesses being over 2 1/2 miles from Kim’s home. After 5-6 weeks, my mother realized we were not driving far on a date and came to me asking how I was “making out” with Kim. To her credit, she did not press me on the matter but said she did not want her car used as a bedroom and did not need a grand c***d this early in life.
The summer ended with Kim and I doing a lot of heavy petting with her achieving hundreds of orgasms and me keeping my pecker in my pants. I did sample the spring-like heavy flow of female fluids that ran out of the furry grotto between her legs. Oh, the color of the fur matched the blond on her head.
And my mother had no grandc***dren that we were aware of...
I went to college. An all-military, all-male institute of higher education. Once things for the freshman class settled down to a routine we had adjusted to, I noticed a posting on the military science board listing facilities in Charleston that were off-limits and another list that were heavily suggested to be avoided by military personnel. That provided me with a list of opportunities to further my learning- new challenges, so to speak. I got a 3X5 index card and copied the top ten onto it and on a Saturday evening, the first one we were granted an overnight leave, gathered some of my buddies, got a cab to where one of them had stashed a car, and left for a tour of the area’s Sodom and Gomorrah-like establishments. It was agreed that we would start with the first one on the list, enter, drink a beer, leave and drive to the next and repeat the process until we were no longer able to function.
I was 19, 6 feet, 1 inch tall, and 228 pounds. My dress uniform was tailored to my 32 inch waist and a 48 inch chest. My body had less than 5% body fat. I was muscular, toned and told I was very handsome. My buddies were also toned from the many hours of forced PT the upperclassmen delighted in subjecting us to on a daily basis. And we turned some heads as we entered the first dive. Bikers mostly. And their old ladies. Luckily, there were only a couple of them and we just waved at them and they waved back. No big deal. We drank our beer and departed asking each other what the big deal was with that place.
On to the next where it was just as uneventful. On arrival, I handed the list to Mitch, who was driving. We ordered and drank the beer and left. The third one was out nearer the beach and not far from the Navy base.
The parking lot had bikes, trucks and cars all over the lot. Loud music and laughter could be heard from inside. We walked in and to the bar where we ordered our third beer.
That was where I saw her, playing electric shuffle board. By herself. Tarri, Tarri Jean. Probably 35-looking, average height, curly brown hair. Attractive enough to draw my attention. She was drinking a PBR which looked empty and I asked her if she wanted another one that was cold. A smiling nod from her and I turned back to the bar to get her one and quickly walked it back to her. I sucked at pick up lines and simply asked if I could join her for a bit. Another smile and we exchanged names and was soon playing shuffle board. I guess I was lost in the moment and when I turned around my buddies were gone.
I am not a big drinker of beer. In fact, it was probably only the third time in my life I had more than two in an evening. The first was in Amsterdam at the Heineken Brewery after which I could not recall the name of the hotel in which I was staying and the name of the street it was on, how many canals I had crossed, etc. Luckily, the receipt was with my passport and a friendly police officer assisted the dumb American to the hotel. The second was at a place in Charleston called Big John’s after which I was sick for several days promising myself, never again. So, I was not going to get drunk that night!
After 4 beers, I told Tarri I needed to stop or I would be useless. We left and got in her car and drove over to the beach and went for a walk. I held her hand as we walked- It felt good. We kissed- it felt good. We walked back to her car with my arm around her. It felt really good. We kissed some more and I felt her breasts some; it really felt good for both of us as I heard her moan in response. When she asked where I was spending the night since my buddies had left me, I said I needed to call a cab and go back to the barracks. She asked if I wanted to go home with her.
Is the Pope Catholic? Does a wild bear crap in the woods? A 40 pound robin fat?
She lived in a really nice home. Nice furniture, great neighborhood, tasteful furnishings. No sign of c***dren. And, it did not look like the quality of place I would have expected from a woman I had just met at one of the off-limits places on the list I had copied. We started kissing as we walked in and closed the door. She unbuttoned my shirt as we kissed and undid my trousers. They dropped to the floor and we stepped further into the front room. I started unbuttoning her blouse at the top and she started undoing her slacks and soon she was in just a black bra and panties and I was in my white boxers. That part of my memory is as fresh today is if it happened this morning.
My cock was hard and we each removed our own remaining underwear as we walked to her bedroom. She excused herself for a moment, went into the master bath where I could hear her tinkle and flush and she was back pulling the cover and sheet down to the bottom of the bed. We literally fell onto the bed and she pulled me on top of her kissing me deeply. Her legs moved apart, my legs moved between them, she reached between us and guided my cock into her pussy. Unlike my only other lover, Mrs. G, there was no resistance. I slid in easily needing to pull out slightly once or twice before I was buried in her until our pubic hair was mashed together.
There was no privacy in a military school. You sleep in bunk beds, shower in an open room, pissed in urinals on the wall, and crapped in toilets without stalls. It was Spartan-like conditions preparing us for military service. I was horny and pent up- no where to drain the dew out of the lily- no where to empty my balls. And, while I may have easily slid deep inside her pussy, her labia had not engorged as yet and my cock was not full of the blood that makes a full erection. That process took but a couple of minutes. I fucked her hard and deep and my orgasm was intense. Wet, Filling.
Thank goodness, I was young and she patient. I did not lift myself from her and nor did I pull out of her. The lust for each other had subdued a bit to be replaced with a time of sensual tenderness. We kissed gently, caressed, moved so our sexual parts slid gently together. The effect was good, fast, and I was hard. That was when she spoke up and my education as a lover began.
Basically, Tarri said the first one was a good hard fuck and women needed that on a regular basis. But, she said they needed something else, more than a ramming of a thick, hard cock in their bodies and a load of cum dumped in them.
Our second round of sex was less rough, less energetic, slower paced, and was more fun for me, certainly more erotic. We kissed and she guided my face, mouth, and hands where she wanted to be kissed and caressed. Because I went slower, she was able to lift up to meet my thrusts and position her body so I could go deeper in to her pussy. She was gentle with her words and requests and I was eager to please her. I felt her tighten as she neared an orgasm and felt her hands on my ass pulling me deeper into her body. The effect was amazing.
There was a subtle change as well. The words she used changed. When we were being slow and gentle, she softly used words that were soft. She had a pussy and I had a penis. As she got turned on and was nearing her climax, she now referred to it differently. She now had a cunt and I had a cock. Love-making became fucking. Purring and gentle moans became guttural grunts.
We saw each other every weekend, Friday after the retreat parade, and Saturday once the morning inspections were over. Friday leave required I return by midnight but many Saturdays allowed me an over night leave. On Sunday, I would leave with a fresh-baked cake or pie I would share with my room mates.
But, it was the lessons I was most appreciative of- lessons that remained with me. I learned how to kiss a woman, how to caress and where to caress and kiss, how to tease, eat pussy, do things top drive a woman crazy and get her to do things she normally would never do. Like anal sex. Three-somes. Double penetration, intimacy during a woman’s time of the month, and more.
Although we saw each other 2-3 times every weekend for over four months, and I really was developing intense feelings for her, I never once heard her tell me she loved me or cared for me. There was a detachment, a disconnect.
Sure, the tenderness was there, the quietness that occurred after gentle love-making or in the early morning when we first woke up. I became aware of her cycle, regular like the tides and moon, sure as the sun setting to the west. Her lust waxed as her period approached and waned following it. As we were finishing the middle of the fifth month of lessons, exploration, and pleasure, that Sunday arrived as she baked a sweet potato pie for me to take with me when I left. She looked upset. Something was building. A wall.
The pie had cooled and she handed it to me as usual and I reached to kiss her. It dawned on me. She should have started her period. Dumb me, I was insensitive. I was also in a bit of a panic mode. It never dawned on me.
“I can’t see you any more,” she began. “My husband’s sub is returning this week.”
I was dumb founded. Married? Tarri Jean? There was no obvious sign of a marriage. No ring, no photos, no men’s clothes. Nothing.
She continued, "A woman has needs. I tried to ignore mine this time. But, I failed. And, I might be pregnant. He and I have been married for seven years and we had sex when he was home and nothing ever happened.”
I was a contract student, an enlisted E-3 in the army. Shit, shit, shit. Court martial for me, conduct un- becoming. All that. Ft Leavenworth.
Or, Vietnam…
I asked her what he did on the sub, a nuke out of Charleston. I had seen them return from their patrols, riding out on the water, their conning tower looming above the curved deck awash with sea water. No name, no numerical marking so the Soviet intelligence-gathering trawlers wouldn’t know who was coming and going. I was hoping he would be a cook’s assistant or paint sc****r. Some lowly swab my rating or close to it.
“He’s the Exec.”
Shit, shit, shit. I might have knocked up the wife of the number two officer on the sub.
It would be Vietnam, for sure. The army had its ways of ridding itself of debris.
I looked in her eyes for what I hoped would be my last time and said good bye thanking her for all she had shared with me. She smiled and said I had been a blessing to her as she was not out roaming the dives of Charleston and got to know a nice guy. "Some lucky girl will stumble on you and you will make her day."
I stopped going to the navy base post exchange fearing I would run into the Commander and his wife. Instead, I shopped at the air force’s BX.
About four months following my last weekend with Mrs. Commander, I went into the CAFB BX to purchase some Tee shirts, black socks, and other items.
There they were, the Commander and his wife, Tarri Jean, who was showing a little tummy. I gave him a smart salute and greeting and went on my way.
Besides learning great sexual techniques, I received another lesson. I would always become more observant of my surroundings, being always on the alert to all that takes place within sight or hearing.
Upon graduation and commissioning, I was assigned to military intelligence. My classmates went to Vietnam. I went to graduate school.
I lucked out!
While in school in NJ, I dated three or four girls. All the relationships were platonic, just simple dates with nice school mates. During my senior year, I escorted a girl that had just moved to town and knew no one. My mother had sold them a home and the mother asked my mother if I would take her daughter, Kim, to a school dance and introduce her to my friends. I asked her what Kim looked like. My mother said she saw her from a distance once and said she looked tall, thin, had nice features, and long blond hair. She laughed and said Kim’s mother described her as a thin girl whose breasts never stopped growing.
Of course, I would take her.
We went to the dance where I introduced her to my old school mates and enjoyed my time with her. While she was no raving beauty, she was attractive and funny. I asked her to go for pizza the next afternoon as I knew there would be guys I knew hanging out at Mama LaRosa’s and she might meet some new faces she would recall while walking the halls at her new school. Oh, and her breasts looked amazing from what I could tell. I made no attempt to give them a closer inspection as the "date" was a favor to my mother.
The home next door, where Mrs. G had lived was dark and empty. It was sort of sad not to be able to run over and enjoy seeing her. Late that evening, I boarded the night train that would carry me back to school in Virginia where I was due back at noon the next day
.
I had been going steady with girl back in Virginia. On my return and with just two months remaining in my senior year, I knew I would graduate leaving her behind. I called her to inquire about my senior dance and to see if she had given any thought to what she was wearing. In the conversation, I was asked what I did over my break and I candidly told her about escorting Kim to a dance to introduce her to my friends.
She was livid and hung up on me. Repeated calls to her over the next two weeks were unanswered. With six weeks to my exams and graduation, I sent her a note of apology asking her if she still wanted to go to the dance with me. With no reply, I called and left a message telling her I would find another date. In a call home, I explained my situation and asked my mother if it would be okay to invite Kim down for the weekend. My mother said it would be okay, that there was plenty of room in the car for all of us, and that I should probably contact her as soon as possible. But, first, she said she wanted to call Kim’s mother to clear it with her first.
I had a job at school which would pay me $500 on the last day of school and told my mother that I would pay for Kim’s room, meals and any other associated costs for the weekend. The two mothers discussed it and when I called Kim, she was excited at the prospect of attending a formal military ball with me.
The weekend arrived. My exam grades were all high as were my semester grades. Graduating with honors, I learned earlier I was the recipient of a full-ride, four-year scholarship that also provided a monthly income of $50. My folks were excited. Kim was one of the prettiest girls at the dance- amazing what a girl looks like with her hair all fixed up, great makeup that showed off her eyes and blond hair, and a strapless dress that defied gravity while supporting her sizable breasts.
The dance went well. We hardly sat for a minute spending our time with my school mates or dancing. My mother told me I could have the use of her car, a blue Oldsmobile 98 convertible, for the evening. When the dance ended, Kim and I got in the car and drove out US 250 to the east to climb up to Afton Gap where the television show, The Waltons, was based. The night was perfectly clear giving a perfect view of Virginia as it stretched out to Charlottesville and beyond. On the drive, Kim sat next to me rubbing the inside of my leg the entire time. I found the turn off for the panoramic view parking and we got out to take a look.
My, could that girl kiss.
I walked her back to the car and opened the door to let her in, closed it and walked around to my side. By the time I got the door opened, she had unzipped the tope of her gown in the back a bit and rolled the front of her dress down to expose herself. If you recall the old conical drinking cups that were found at water coolers and doubled the size, it might come close to describing the shape of her breasts. There was no sag. The nipples sat on the tip and were the size of pencil erasers. As I got in, she reached up and pulled me over taking my hand and putting them on her breasts closest to me.
We kissed for a little while and I played with her breasts. It was only the second pair I had every really felt- Mrs. G had been the first.
Well, there was an Italian girl I enjoyed for a moment who pulled my mouth onto her nipple while we made out on a blanket the previous 4th of July. Her nipple was surrounded by hair and one got caught between my front teeth and I pulled it out when my head jerked back in surprise. I laughed, got slapped, and the experience was over faster than it started. So, that boob should not count!
Kim pulled away from my kiss and asked me to suck her nipple. I did. And, while doing so, she rearranged her gown, took my hand, put it between her legs, and asked me to help her cum. She felt wetter than Mrs. G did after I had cum in her twice. And, climax, Kim had them in rapid fire order, seconds apart. However, it was all about her. She made no effort to unzip me, rub me, or pleasure me. Hell, I did not care. She was hot and out of control. And, there were cars pulling off US 250 into the viewing area and leaving. A parade of them. It would be easy for Kim to rearrange her dress should someone come up. Like the sheriff or other law enforcement agency. What the hell, my night was coming to an end and I had to get here back to her room and check in with my mother.
Summer was ahead of us and we’d be driving back the next day.
Okay, this chapter is about Tarri, not Kim. I will get to her in a moment after I describe the weeks following my graduation. Kim and I saw each other nearly every night. When my mother did not need her car, I was free to use it providing I kept it washed, full of gas, asked in advance to borrow it, and told my mother what I would be doing. Kim lived less than ½ mile from us, it was ½ mile to Houston Street- a dark, quiet street for parking and making out, ½ mile back to her home and ½ mile back to mine. An evening put a couple of miles on the car, three at most. The area was residential with the nearest businesses being over 2 1/2 miles from Kim’s home. After 5-6 weeks, my mother realized we were not driving far on a date and came to me asking how I was “making out” with Kim. To her credit, she did not press me on the matter but said she did not want her car used as a bedroom and did not need a grand c***d this early in life.
The summer ended with Kim and I doing a lot of heavy petting with her achieving hundreds of orgasms and me keeping my pecker in my pants. I did sample the spring-like heavy flow of female fluids that ran out of the furry grotto between her legs. Oh, the color of the fur matched the blond on her head.
And my mother had no grandc***dren that we were aware of...
I went to college. An all-military, all-male institute of higher education. Once things for the freshman class settled down to a routine we had adjusted to, I noticed a posting on the military science board listing facilities in Charleston that were off-limits and another list that were heavily suggested to be avoided by military personnel. That provided me with a list of opportunities to further my learning- new challenges, so to speak. I got a 3X5 index card and copied the top ten onto it and on a Saturday evening, the first one we were granted an overnight leave, gathered some of my buddies, got a cab to where one of them had stashed a car, and left for a tour of the area’s Sodom and Gomorrah-like establishments. It was agreed that we would start with the first one on the list, enter, drink a beer, leave and drive to the next and repeat the process until we were no longer able to function.
I was 19, 6 feet, 1 inch tall, and 228 pounds. My dress uniform was tailored to my 32 inch waist and a 48 inch chest. My body had less than 5% body fat. I was muscular, toned and told I was very handsome. My buddies were also toned from the many hours of forced PT the upperclassmen delighted in subjecting us to on a daily basis. And we turned some heads as we entered the first dive. Bikers mostly. And their old ladies. Luckily, there were only a couple of them and we just waved at them and they waved back. No big deal. We drank our beer and departed asking each other what the big deal was with that place.
On to the next where it was just as uneventful. On arrival, I handed the list to Mitch, who was driving. We ordered and drank the beer and left. The third one was out nearer the beach and not far from the Navy base.
The parking lot had bikes, trucks and cars all over the lot. Loud music and laughter could be heard from inside. We walked in and to the bar where we ordered our third beer.
That was where I saw her, playing electric shuffle board. By herself. Tarri, Tarri Jean. Probably 35-looking, average height, curly brown hair. Attractive enough to draw my attention. She was drinking a PBR which looked empty and I asked her if she wanted another one that was cold. A smiling nod from her and I turned back to the bar to get her one and quickly walked it back to her. I sucked at pick up lines and simply asked if I could join her for a bit. Another smile and we exchanged names and was soon playing shuffle board. I guess I was lost in the moment and when I turned around my buddies were gone.
I am not a big drinker of beer. In fact, it was probably only the third time in my life I had more than two in an evening. The first was in Amsterdam at the Heineken Brewery after which I could not recall the name of the hotel in which I was staying and the name of the street it was on, how many canals I had crossed, etc. Luckily, the receipt was with my passport and a friendly police officer assisted the dumb American to the hotel. The second was at a place in Charleston called Big John’s after which I was sick for several days promising myself, never again. So, I was not going to get drunk that night!
After 4 beers, I told Tarri I needed to stop or I would be useless. We left and got in her car and drove over to the beach and went for a walk. I held her hand as we walked- It felt good. We kissed- it felt good. We walked back to her car with my arm around her. It felt really good. We kissed some more and I felt her breasts some; it really felt good for both of us as I heard her moan in response. When she asked where I was spending the night since my buddies had left me, I said I needed to call a cab and go back to the barracks. She asked if I wanted to go home with her.
Is the Pope Catholic? Does a wild bear crap in the woods? A 40 pound robin fat?
She lived in a really nice home. Nice furniture, great neighborhood, tasteful furnishings. No sign of c***dren. And, it did not look like the quality of place I would have expected from a woman I had just met at one of the off-limits places on the list I had copied. We started kissing as we walked in and closed the door. She unbuttoned my shirt as we kissed and undid my trousers. They dropped to the floor and we stepped further into the front room. I started unbuttoning her blouse at the top and she started undoing her slacks and soon she was in just a black bra and panties and I was in my white boxers. That part of my memory is as fresh today is if it happened this morning.
My cock was hard and we each removed our own remaining underwear as we walked to her bedroom. She excused herself for a moment, went into the master bath where I could hear her tinkle and flush and she was back pulling the cover and sheet down to the bottom of the bed. We literally fell onto the bed and she pulled me on top of her kissing me deeply. Her legs moved apart, my legs moved between them, she reached between us and guided my cock into her pussy. Unlike my only other lover, Mrs. G, there was no resistance. I slid in easily needing to pull out slightly once or twice before I was buried in her until our pubic hair was mashed together.
There was no privacy in a military school. You sleep in bunk beds, shower in an open room, pissed in urinals on the wall, and crapped in toilets without stalls. It was Spartan-like conditions preparing us for military service. I was horny and pent up- no where to drain the dew out of the lily- no where to empty my balls. And, while I may have easily slid deep inside her pussy, her labia had not engorged as yet and my cock was not full of the blood that makes a full erection. That process took but a couple of minutes. I fucked her hard and deep and my orgasm was intense. Wet, Filling.
Thank goodness, I was young and she patient. I did not lift myself from her and nor did I pull out of her. The lust for each other had subdued a bit to be replaced with a time of sensual tenderness. We kissed gently, caressed, moved so our sexual parts slid gently together. The effect was good, fast, and I was hard. That was when she spoke up and my education as a lover began.
Basically, Tarri said the first one was a good hard fuck and women needed that on a regular basis. But, she said they needed something else, more than a ramming of a thick, hard cock in their bodies and a load of cum dumped in them.
Our second round of sex was less rough, less energetic, slower paced, and was more fun for me, certainly more erotic. We kissed and she guided my face, mouth, and hands where she wanted to be kissed and caressed. Because I went slower, she was able to lift up to meet my thrusts and position her body so I could go deeper in to her pussy. She was gentle with her words and requests and I was eager to please her. I felt her tighten as she neared an orgasm and felt her hands on my ass pulling me deeper into her body. The effect was amazing.
There was a subtle change as well. The words she used changed. When we were being slow and gentle, she softly used words that were soft. She had a pussy and I had a penis. As she got turned on and was nearing her climax, she now referred to it differently. She now had a cunt and I had a cock. Love-making became fucking. Purring and gentle moans became guttural grunts.
We saw each other every weekend, Friday after the retreat parade, and Saturday once the morning inspections were over. Friday leave required I return by midnight but many Saturdays allowed me an over night leave. On Sunday, I would leave with a fresh-baked cake or pie I would share with my room mates.
But, it was the lessons I was most appreciative of- lessons that remained with me. I learned how to kiss a woman, how to caress and where to caress and kiss, how to tease, eat pussy, do things top drive a woman crazy and get her to do things she normally would never do. Like anal sex. Three-somes. Double penetration, intimacy during a woman’s time of the month, and more.
Although we saw each other 2-3 times every weekend for over four months, and I really was developing intense feelings for her, I never once heard her tell me she loved me or cared for me. There was a detachment, a disconnect.
Sure, the tenderness was there, the quietness that occurred after gentle love-making or in the early morning when we first woke up. I became aware of her cycle, regular like the tides and moon, sure as the sun setting to the west. Her lust waxed as her period approached and waned following it. As we were finishing the middle of the fifth month of lessons, exploration, and pleasure, that Sunday arrived as she baked a sweet potato pie for me to take with me when I left. She looked upset. Something was building. A wall.
The pie had cooled and she handed it to me as usual and I reached to kiss her. It dawned on me. She should have started her period. Dumb me, I was insensitive. I was also in a bit of a panic mode. It never dawned on me.
“I can’t see you any more,” she began. “My husband’s sub is returning this week.”
I was dumb founded. Married? Tarri Jean? There was no obvious sign of a marriage. No ring, no photos, no men’s clothes. Nothing.
She continued, "A woman has needs. I tried to ignore mine this time. But, I failed. And, I might be pregnant. He and I have been married for seven years and we had sex when he was home and nothing ever happened.”
I was a contract student, an enlisted E-3 in the army. Shit, shit, shit. Court martial for me, conduct un- becoming. All that. Ft Leavenworth.
Or, Vietnam…
I asked her what he did on the sub, a nuke out of Charleston. I had seen them return from their patrols, riding out on the water, their conning tower looming above the curved deck awash with sea water. No name, no numerical marking so the Soviet intelligence-gathering trawlers wouldn’t know who was coming and going. I was hoping he would be a cook’s assistant or paint sc****r. Some lowly swab my rating or close to it.
“He’s the Exec.”
Shit, shit, shit. I might have knocked up the wife of the number two officer on the sub.
It would be Vietnam, for sure. The army had its ways of ridding itself of debris.
I looked in her eyes for what I hoped would be my last time and said good bye thanking her for all she had shared with me. She smiled and said I had been a blessing to her as she was not out roaming the dives of Charleston and got to know a nice guy. "Some lucky girl will stumble on you and you will make her day."
I stopped going to the navy base post exchange fearing I would run into the Commander and his wife. Instead, I shopped at the air force’s BX.
About four months following my last weekend with Mrs. Commander, I went into the CAFB BX to purchase some Tee shirts, black socks, and other items.
There they were, the Commander and his wife, Tarri Jean, who was showing a little tummy. I gave him a smart salute and greeting and went on my way.
Besides learning great sexual techniques, I received another lesson. I would always become more observant of my surroundings, being always on the alert to all that takes place within sight or hearing.
Upon graduation and commissioning, I was assigned to military intelligence. My classmates went to Vietnam. I went to graduate school.
I lucked out!
Louise
- 30.12.2022
- 13
- 0
You re mine now sissy a continuation 3
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Continuation With My French Girlfriend
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