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My Girlfriend? -Chapter 1 free porn video
My Girlfriend? Chapter 1
Let me start off this tale by saying I am not so sure how long it will
be as it is being told in both a past history and current. But not sure
"tale" is the right word either, so let me think about that and I will
identify this opus as a story, or a tale, or maybe as an autobiography,
but even that doesn't sound right. But let's get started before I lose
you.
First me, Ok, who I am, well I should start by saying who I was... Mmm
well, I am not really much different than I am now, that's not true
either. Everything is different. It's like being dropped off into a
different universe, like a change into a quantum dimensions, different.
I mean, so god damn different... I don't know have I made that clear?
Different! So where to begin?
Oh yeah, me... I just started college, junior college to be exact,
around the corner from my house, a freshman, so age 18. I know I don't
look it.. I have to tell people all the time that I am 18, I have even
had teachers at the college ask me .."what are you doing her?" ...sigh..
I was born ...you don't care where I was born. Let see what else, I am
exactly 5 feet 8 inches tall. In shoes. Arrg.. Ok, 5 foot four and half.
My mom says I'm still growing, yeah, but not very fast and right now in
the wrong places. More about that later, maybe, not sure if you are
going to be interested in this at all. But I needed to get this down on
paper, especially now. But we are still in the history portion. Not sure
if I should call it that, since this is a tale not, maybe a recipe....
LOL ... no, not that.. Now... Where was I? ( Is this hard to read, I
think it may be a little.. but please bear with me.. ( is that the right
bare..or is it bear..) I hope it will get better.. it can't get
worse..LOL)
Ok so not very tall, I weigh, mmmm, not sure this is good but the BMI
scale says I am perfect. Leave it at that. ( Brenda, said I should say
exactly how much I weighed in the history. So 145 lbs and I know your
saying, 'who is Brenda?', I will go to that of course, just a little
later) I have brown hair, well I had brown hair, this is getting
ridiculous, what, yeah I know who is Brenda? This is history so later,
again not too much either. Brown eyes too. And I don't know, handsome (
she said to add the word 'cute') and well normal.
I fought forever with my height, weight, and looks. At Trinity Church
camp, my summertime forced exodus and heartache. I was made to be the
girl, blonde too, ( yes they actually dyed my hair. They thought it
would be funny. I thought it was being washed.... No I didn't think it
was funny either) but the style went with some stupid comedy we did. At
least one Halloween too, the costume included wings and wand, well you
get the idea and again blonde, this time my own mother. Not going that
far back in history.
Dating, mmmm, not much, the college I go to has a veritable oversupply
of jocks, tall, heavy, muscled, and they start at the freshman level.
Me, nope, never have been to the jacket ceremony although I am not bad
at tennis, and have made the C team last year in high school. I hope to
this year as well...LOL, but things change, don't they? But no, not a
chance here though.
I have always been a solid B to A student, knowing I will be headed to
State when I finish my first two years here, but not entirely my choice.
I love the sciences and history, for some reason, the math's have been
like a foreign language. But I am struggling to keep current. I hope to
be an engineer of some type.
Ok, even I thought that was boring. Where to now? Well, I guess I am
going to start the story, never having written one like this so this is
going to be weird. I am will use the "first person". That's what my
English teacher calls it but since this will get into real time, it will
be different. I have decided that I will sort of interrupt and make
comments from time to time. We will see how this goes.
Here we go... My Girl Friend?
Saturday's are my favorite day of the week. For so many reasons, mainly
I get to sleep in.
"Sweetie are you up yet?" My mother banged on the door with her small
fist, it always sounded like a bird rapping on my door.
I rolled over, pulling the blanket up higher and burying my head under
the pillow, the sound distant but familiar called to me but at the
moment, I enjoyed the company of a beautiful redhead, and she and I were
exploring each other in intimate ways. Her hand was caressing my huge
cock, and it only increased in size as her lips kissed me tenderly. The
excitement building.
"Honeybun, you have to get up, Peter is leaving to go to the shop in 20
minutes," my mother said softly shaking me awake.
(Ok this is turning out not as hard as I thought it would be. But I
should make a correction, the large cock, well that was a dream, a very
wet dream, as I was about to find out. But back to my penis, I guess
it's been called cute too. It's what I call medium, looking at
statistics, I guess, but the measuring tape, tells the story. But when
he's relaxed, it's difficult to measure, but an inch or two, it hides
quite well, but when he's excited... Well, then it's not all that bad,
four and a half inches, and bit thicker than my thumb. Ok not stud
material, but not too many complaints. Let's get back to the story, and
not talk about my penis... Arrg!) Satisfied??
Her name was Margo, and she wanted me, I wanted her too, her legs wide
open, and her pussy wet and ready, my hard hot cock, ready to take her,
her smile, she called me to her.
"I said get up now." Mom pulled the covers free and down. "oh dear,
honey your little cock is all hard, look at that, it's spitting out some
pretty cream too," she smiled, looking down at me, my eyes now wide
open.
"Mom, oh gee, mom." The blush on my face seemed almost painful, she had
the sheets and the blankets down at my feet, and she was just staring at
my now relaxing little man, the two hot jets of fresh warm cum covering
my tummy, some no doubt in the sheets as well.
"It happens dear, no worries, let me get you cleaned up," she said a
smile on her lips, she picked a tissue from the box by my bed, and
proceeded to wipe the warm and fresh cum off my stomach. She took a
finger dipping into the little pool formed in the hollow of my
bellybutton and then put her finger to her lips. " so sweet, here you
try some." she said adding her trailing cum wet finger across my lips.
Having been a nurse for the last five years, my body and privacy did not
hold much value for her. "Hold still, wish I had some of the baby wipes,
makes this so much easier," she said taking two fingers and gently
holding my little penis and stretching it up, as her other hand worked
to clear any of the residual cream from the wet dream. "That must have
been some sexy dream you were having," she said holding my little cock
between two soft fingers. "was I in the scene too?" she laughed, her
joke sending a quick jolt though my little boy, she could feel it, she
smiled. "Oh! was I the star in your fuck dream, how sweet, thank you my
precious," still wiping me clean she questioned, "was I naked or was I
wearing something sexy?"
Joey boy, that's what I call him, hoping the hard male name will help
him grow to the next statistical normal, jumped at the soft touch from
my mom but it's always her words that get to me.
"Ahh, so I was naked," she laughed, changing her position slightly to
gets a fresh tissue to clean under my balls, I could almost feel Joey
Boy getting bigger. "So were you fucking me with your massive tool, or
was I sucking him?" the tissue went down farther until she had it
pressed against my bottom. My little cock pulsed again, the thought of
my mother sucking my hard cock sending a wave from my brain to my balls
in an electric flash almost as quick as an electric pulse. "So I was
sucking on your hard fuck stick." Her words were as stimulating as her
touch on my cock. "Maybe like this," she leaned over and took the head
of my little soft toy between her red lips, and closed around him, her
lips held firm, I could feel her tongue wash over my cock.
"Oh mom, oh god."
She pulled off leaving a stain of lipstick in her brief moment of
motherly attention, tossing the tissue like an expert into the trash
can. "Two points." She smiled taking the sheets and covering me up as if
nothing had happened. "Hurry up, you have 15 minutes. I can assure you,
if you're late this time you will get a spanking."
(Ok, yes, I know, you're asking, "What the hell was that, another wet
dream?") I have to tell you in all truth ...no. That's my mom and I love
her to death, but, mmmm, I guess I just have to be honest and tell you
she is, how do you say it... Kinky. It's really quite recent too, maybe
the last few years, maybe and most likely longer, it's just now that I
am older, she doesn't hide it anymore ..at all. And her latest boyfriend
whom (love that using whom.. Not who..LOL) anyway she says, he is going
to be number 3 in her life and I will call him daddy from then on.
Actually, she has me calling him daddy now, too....but to say nothing is
too out there for my mom would be an understatement but I do love her
and I will keep her secrets forever.
Breakfast consisted of a glass of chocolate milk and an Egg-O waffle.
Fast and easy, dressing choices were both obvious and fast, jeans and
sweatshirt, no need for a shower or shave. Shave, that was funny, I
shaved once every week, and if I missed that, nobody noticed. I always
thought I might look more, manly, yes that's the word, manly or 'studly'
with a beard, 'studly' (OK I know it it's not a real word so my
spellchecker tells me, should be though), and anyway, my old high school
would not allow it, but it seemed every other guy in college had one or
was trying to grow one. Of course, that's an excuse, for me, no beard
here, maybe never, I really didn't have much hair anywhere except on top
of my head. That might have been my undoing. But let me get to that
later, anyway, dressing continued with sneakers.
"Let's put a move on girl," Peter called from the front door, as I
finished the waffle and wiping my chin, slurping up the last of my
drink. But that's Peter for you, he's always calling me names, sometimes
rather demeaning too. Loves to do it especially with my mom, he likes to
see if she objects. He once called me "slut", and she said, 'Peter,
she's not a slut. That's my role.' That would be as close as she would
come to correcting him. But I smiled at the correction, but kind of
questioned the assignment of "she" to the conversation.
The truck had more than 100,000 miles on it and the rough life took its
toll, but still, the beast ran like it just left the show floor. Peter's
golden gift was tools. Not a single one in his six-foot-high chest of
tools could he not name, describe in detail how it could be utilized,
and each and every one would be counted as pristine or even virgin,
should you have the opportunity to inspect them.
"Little girl, I need you on the books this morning," Peter said this
putting his hand down on my thigh, as I said all almost every word to me
could count as an insult or humiliation. "I have a foot stack of
invoices, and receipts that need to go in the books. So no heavy lifting
for you, sweet girl, you leave that for the men."
He looked at me, his hand sliding up higher until it centered on my
crotch, he liked to feel the little lump, he marvels at how small and
nearly hidden it becomes in panties. My mother's tight jeans virtually
eliminated even a semblance of a manly splurge ( that didn't sound
right.. But you get the idea, it really looked like I didn't have one)
but he was waiting for me to respond. Correctly.
(You did notice I said my 'mothers' tight jeans... yes, she laid out my
clothes each day, and I learned very quickly not to argue...yes, they
zip up the back too, mother knows best.)
"Yes, daddy, I will be glad to work on your books. I'll be sure to give
you a nice thank you when I am done?" The kiss that any comment like
that demanded only lasted a second or two, he turned so our lips came
together, my lips open, I waited for his warm tongue to invade my mouth,
I hated his spit too. I hated all his rules, Peter came up with new ones
daily.
(Oh did I tell you I was sitting in the middle of the truck seats, as
close as I could to, who I now referred to as 'daddy'. I had one arm
resting on Peter's shoulder, and my right hand had not moved since I
took my seat, resting it like the rule said on "daddy's" much larger
tucked penis. His bulge most noticeable, and somewhat improved by the
time we got to the shop. I had been trained well, mostly not to object
to any new demand or rule. My mom? She just smiled and when I
complained, most recently, she gave me a sweet motherly kiss, lasting
only a few tens of seconds, and as we came apart, she said with a smile,
"You know precious, daddy's always right, he knows what best for his
little girl."
"Need to Rent" The neon sign on the roof of the office made the business
quite understandable. Need a sharp heavy ax for the day, twenty dollars,
chainsaw with a five gallon mixed gas can, forty-five, with the right
clearance, everything up to a small bulldozer could be found on the
five-acre lot.
The other workers, his collection of rejected high school jocks, with
not enough performance credit to get into any football program, were
already there and lounging in the showroom as the truck pulled in.
Funny, like squirrels running from the dog, they all scurried out of the
office dumping cigarettes butts in the ashcan by the door, as they
exited the safety of the office.
"Ok sweet thing." Peter reached over pulling me by my shirt, directly to
him almost like he was going to kiss me again. "Go on get started, I
will be in a few, I have got to get these boys to work, that's where the
big dollars go."
Ok, another aside, well maybe not another, maybe like an official one,
but the big dollars for these mammoth work boys whose ages ranged from
eighteen to twenty-six could be counted against the statistics for the
poorest, but they thought $15.50 an hour made them Trump material. A
little math, eight hours at fifteen dollars and fifty cents equaled six
hundred and twenty dollars and that came in before taxes and social
security. I got fifteen dollars an hour too for what I did, under the
table but I still lived at home. Anyway, they all ran out. I got out of
the truck straightened my pants, a departed from my Peter's side and
entered the building.
"This place stinks," I said this aloud, noting that the old computer
that Peter had me using did not answer back, but stale cigarette smoke
and unwashed sweaty bodies, which I think is worse, nearly knocked me
over. The window and the fan usually did the trick but it took a while,
usually an hour before the air was fit to breathe.
The place always looked old, dusty, and the shelving, 12 feet high, full
of old depleted, obscure, and obsolete, equipment, but get this, they
all worked like new. At the other end of the rental shop and display
room, and around the corner stood a desk and office, just as old and
dusty, that's where I worked. The desk, as always, overflowed with
paper, no order in any measurable manner, the invoices, and receipts
mixed in with pounds of mail in the most haphazard confusion. The first
order of business had to be putting the mess on the desk in some usable
way, more importantly, the stuff that needed a reference, needed first
to be visible.
Ok, I know this is this boring, so I guess I should just skip ahead, you
have met my mom, and her boyfriend, yes, daddy, maybe fianc?, really her
new current toy, and very briefly the guys in the shop. So that's all
good. So this is history, but the story starts at 11 AM.
"So little girl, how are we doing?" Peter strolled back in the office, a
wet rag around his neck, his shirt sweaty and opened down to the fourth
button, his hairy chest fully exposed.
Now was I interested? I mean, I was looking, but interested? Sexually
looking and thinking 'oh what a hot fucking stud, I want that.' No, I
don't think so. I think my thoughts were more jealousy oriented, wanting
to look like that, to have the muscles, the hair, the build, and yes,
well his cock too. I know my mother liked his fat big cock ( she talked
about it openly, I mean all the time), but, yes, all of that. I stared
at him, and yes, maybe my eyes dropped from his open shirt to between
his legs and my smile showed through as well.
"So you are a little fag pussy," Peter said, (ok, that had not been said
before) "You thinking about setting your lush lips on my fat cock."
That had never been my intention, but my eyes did stray lower as his
hand moved to his lump. He unzipped and pulled his penis free, right
there in the shop. I am staring at my mother's boy friend's cock, not
two feet from my face. He took another a step in my direction.
"So you want to suck this tool don't you little girl, put this piece of
cock between your pretty red lips. Bet your mother would like to see
that, wouldn't she?" (Knowing my mother, I am sure she would take
pictures posting them all on her website, should the opportunity make
itself available) "So suck it princess," he slapped my face with the
hardening cock.
"Hello excuse me, can I get some help please," a girls voice came from
around the corner in the showroom not quite visible to the desk I now
sat at.. (Ok, now we get into it... This is Brenda)
"Later, cupcake," Peter said quickly shoving his hard cock back into his
jeans. No underwear, commando, I think they call it. But the near
assault had ended.
"Be with you in second, honey," Peter rang out, zipping his fly, smiling
back at me sitting at the desk completely bewildered (fucking confused
is a better way of expressing it.)
"How can I help?" Peter asked walking around the corner and out of my
sight. I could not see what was going on or who had entered the store,
the voices somewhat lower in volume, as I sat stunned and clearing my
head in another room. Curious, I got up out of my chair and walked
around the desk and poked my head into the display room.
Paul stood with his back to me, and the girl stood in front of him
pointing at a diagram drawn on the notepaper. She looked quite
attractive.
Now I am going to take this to an aside. Attractive? Oh fuck, I almost
dropped over, she could not be more beautiful. Fuck, my wet dreams could
not hold a place beside this vision. Blonde, her hair looked as if it
belonged to the sun, soft and wavy, bunched up in back with a pretty
pink bow, her face looked like it belonged on the big screen, her blue
eyes knocked me over, even from where I stood, I could see the pure
devastation she would endanger any man . Lush red lips, and gold
dangling earrings, big circles sparkling in the morning sun, nearly
touching her neck, her make-up, exquisite. What next, did I say she was
built, oh god she had beautiful, I mean gorgeous tits and the blouse she
wore did not hide them at all. And black leather pants, so tight, so
very tight. And down we go. She wore boots, not any boot, calf high,
black shiny, leather boots, tight with a spike heel. Did I say anything
about height? God no. Not yet. Did I already mention her tits, God they
were so fantastic, built, and I could see she enjoyed men looking at
them, as the shirt dipped low showing a rich lush divot ( maybe not the
right word) instant hard on. Ok, back to tall.Yes tall, oh so tall, 6
foot and more, maybe 3 more inches, it was hard to tell with the heels,
she towered over even Peter, I, of course, would look like a midget next
to her. So I would accept that, no wanting that, to be put into that
position, just to be near her.
"Honey, can you come out here and take a look at this?" Peter called me
into the showroom. My fears were fully justified, she looked over at me,
her whole demeanor changed, her smile was there but it was for me.
"Sure thing Peter." I tried to walk taller, which was, of course,
futile, his call to me not entirely a slam, yes rude, but somewhat
measured, but I can tell you this honestly I did not want to go out to
the showroom. But two seconds later, there I stood in front of the
blonde goddess.
She spoke first, "Can you help, your father does not understand our
need," she smiled at me. Really it was more, of course, an electric arc
of flame that burned flesh, searing in my direction. (Yeah I agree, a
bit much) but I smiled back.
"How can I help?"
"We are looking for something like this, it not so much measuring
device, but provides a right angle and leveling, but it's over 6 feet,
which make it unique." She said inviting me to stand closer, not so much
sharing the sketch she had in her hand, but urging me to stand closer
like she took control. She had the scent of lust that surrounded her, it
enveloped me completely, my only thought, 'how can I get closer?'
"Do you have any idea what this is?" Her voice sounded like Catherine
Hepburn, husky deep and matched many a dream, and would from that point
forward be the voice of any goddess that shared a night with me.
"I am not sure," I tried to answer, my voice a little shaky, Her
presence confusing my brain, but I thought I remembered something dusty
leaning in a corner of the large storeroom. The hint was the height.
"Maybe."
"I'm fucking lost, no idea what the fuck that thing is," Peter said
walking away, leaving the goddess with me.
"Not sure but I think I have seen something like that but not sure where
it might be, want to help me look."
She smiled again. "I nearly fainted, "Sure."
I looked at the sketch again, and set off toward the front of the store,
it had a reason to be there, but I had to look, to be through or maybe
more likely to spend as much time as I could with her.
"Where do you go to school?" she asked.
I started to speak but my voice did not work and I had to clear my
throat, and I tried again, "Central Junior College."
"I went there too."
How come I have not seen this girl there, "It's not that big a school,"
oh cool, that was dumb. I immediately regretted my comment. She laughed.
"Just strated there, concentrating on math and sciences advanced
classes," I added, the extra info hoping to keep the conversation going,
but yes, Ok, that was a brag, if I could not be tall, at least I could
be smart maybe do her homework. But went there? How old was this
goddess? She seemed to be fading away as realized her age meant that
college had been ages ago.
"Just finished my 4th year at the U, should have my degree this summer,
business mostly, some marketing, far away from anything scientific," she
laughed again, the air seemed to sparkle with her interaction.
So she was not only out of my league for such incredibly obvious
reasons, she had already eclipsed the throwaway grades, and had more
candles on her birthday cake, far more than me. But I knew this stupid
thing we were looking for was here.
"You're a little boy, aren't you?"
I must have blushed about three shades in the direction of falling off a
cliff, sharp, and ever descending, was this about my age. "I guess," I
had no other words.
"How tall five foot what, four inches."
"I guess..."
"And mommy's jeans too, how incredibly cute, yours were in the wash no
doubt."
I did not say a word.
"But in your bare feet, naked, just five foot and a few inches, to be
sure I would have to measure you, just to see how many inches over five
foot but not many." She said laying her hand on top of my head her
bracelets lay in my hair. "Yes, little but cute, very cute.." Her hand
combed through my hair, "I love your hair, you take good care of it,"
making a statement, not a question.
"Thank you," I smiled back at her.
"So do you have a tiny cock too?"
I could not believe the words, but I knew she was not just being mean,
maybe playful and teasing but not cutting, or deep. I hoped.
"I don't know, but not tiny, no."
"Then show me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your cock, it's little isn't it, what is it, two inches when soft," she
saw my face. "Smaller?" She laughed. "And then what, four inches when
she gets excited. Am I exciting you, sweet boy?"
Stupid question of the year, excited yes, throbbing and still not making
even the smallest presence known. No just normal.
She stepped closer, her scent making thoughts difficult, "I don't see it
pressing out," she held me by the arms and pushed me back slightly,
gazing down at my crotch, "no, I don't see your little toy cock. When
they are this tiny, I call them clits, so perfect you are and in such
pretty jeans too," she reached over grabbed me hard, squarely between my
legs, "there's the little girl," she said taking a firm hold of my
little man, somewhat excited. "Oh my, most girls have bigger clits than
that." Her fingers squeezed me just to the point of pain. "We aren't
going to call it a cock now are we, it's definitely a clit."
She could call it anything that she wanted as far as I was concerned.
Her fingers did not let go, she grabbed me harder, and then pulled me to
her. The kiss took me down the runway. I always thought of the runway
when kissing, and judging how great the kiss, the feeling took me away
from the world. Translated, I traveled far down the runway. When she let
me go, her smile stood alone, knowing, for a fact that my future could
be read like a book. I am pretty sure Brenda can do just that, but my
plane had taken off, I looked back, and could see the runway lights of
the field now just barely visible in the morning mist. There was a
moisture down there too, my little man had said the kiss was most well
accepted.
"Let's find the piece I came for, I have other business this afternoon."
Her hand rubbed the growing wet spot on my pants and then released. The
taste of her lipstick filled me.
( You know I just checked back on what I have written so far, which is
not bad, should get better, but I have not told you my name you know all
the other people around me but not my name, strange huh? Not that much a
fan of it myself, I wanted people to shorten it to Jer which again
sounds I don't know, taller maybe, 'on the field, the mighty, Big Jer
Winston, the game is saved now.' Ok, the name just sounds taller. But it
is Jeremy Winston. I wonder now if this was a good time to mention this.
LOL.. probably not.)
"Ok," I said barely coming out of orbit, "it's got to be here
somewhere."
We walked along now mostly silent, her sharp heels clicking on the
cement, the wave of her perfume hitting me every step or two.
"Wait a minute, this it." I remembered the corner, but the tool looked
to be absent, I pulled several long pieces of scrap steel away, "I knew
I had seen that thing, here it is."
"Wonderful you are just a doll for finding it for me. Do you think your
father would sell it to me."
"How much would you think it's worth?" I asked still holding on to the
dusty piece of metal, not having seen the light of day for ten or more
years.
"Two hundred dollars seems reasonable."
I looked at the odd tool more closely, and could not see how it entered
any value at all to the shop, as it had been rented any time in the last
hundred years or so. "Yeah, sounds good to me, let me write it up."
"You are a prince."
I smiled very pleased to be her prince and not the princess. Knowing
that in a few short minutes she would be nothing more than a scene actor
in my nightly sojourns to exciting lands full of play.
Well, I won't go into the rest. Paul had to sign off on the deal I told
him that we had settled on a hundred dollars, and he said he could not
let it go for that, he made up a number for rental by the week, he said
he go for three hundred, I said that's more than she had, and it was
buried we had not seen it for years, I said one fifty and he came back
with two hundred. She just smiled and nodded looking over at me and then
back to Paul.
I walked her out and helped load the tool in the back of her BMW.
"Anything more I can do for you?"
She smiled as she closed the door, I stood watching this goddess leave
my sight and life forever. The car started and began backing out of the
space, and then stopped. The window came down smoothly. "One more thing
Jeremy, my house, 6 pm, wear something cute." She smiled again and
handed me a business card, her address was on the back. The car spun out
of the lot like it had never been there. I looked at the card, "Evanston
Imports and Exports. Brenda Evanston, Vice President."
I put the card in my pocket walking back into the shop. "6 pm...wear
something cute?" The words just came out in the open, my smile there
too.
Mckenna
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