I Owe It All To Daylight Savings Time Part Two
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I Owe It All To Daylight Savings Time - Part One free porn video
I OWE IT ALL TO DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME
PART ONE
By Katharine Sexkitten
Why, you ask, would a person write their autobiography? What reason do
they have for telling others their story? However biased it might be?
Hollywood celebrities, sure. But the average person? What would
inspire them to think anyone needed or wanted to know about their boring
lives? Especially someone who is now only twenty-two?
Well, as it turns out, mine is anything but an ordinary life.
Although, the first twenty-one years were absolute textbook example of
boring.
By choice, I suppose.
At birth I was given the name Cary. My mom loved Cary Grant. She
hoped, I suppose, that I'd grow up to be movie star good-looking. Which
sort of came true? Not the sophisticated masculine suave good looking
like Cary Grant. I was small, with a fair complexion and blondish hair,
always worn long, and my face looked more like Audrey Hepburn. Big
eyes, high cheekbones. People often commented on my eyes. Doe-eyed was
one expression I heard a lot as a child. Oh well.
I was boring. My life was just there. Not much went on. I grew up a
quiet child, quite willing to spend all my free time by myself, enjoying
my own company. It seemed easier and more satisfying than my times
surrounded by others. I loved to read, so books were my passion. Most
genres. I didn't care, just as long as the story was told well. Don't
get me wrong, my family were all nice enough, and I had a few friends at
school and such. And there were family vacations and the other normal
parts of life which I participated in. Christmases. Weddings. Bar-b-
q's.
But mostly I just kept myself to myself.
After high school I went to community college at the begging of my
parents and managed to eke out two years' worth of schooling, and then
almost immediately was offered a job in a town about three hours from
home. So with many tears from my Mom and some money discretely handed
over by my Dad I drove off to my new apartment. It wasn't much, but it
was home.
Work took up my days, and reading took up my spare time. I'd
occasionally go to movies, sometimes for walks. But almost always by
myself.
I also fully admit that I spent a portion of my free time surfing the
net. I always had had a keen appreciation for erotic literature, and
would read from several different sites every day, while I slowly and
deliciously masturbated, edging myself for hours. While never losing my
absolute adoration of a well-written story, I also began to appreciate
video porn. Lots of it.
Naturally, that meant that my personal experiences with sex and women
were limited. I'd had a few sexual encounters with women, the first in
my senior year of high school, the last a two-night-stand with a woman
I'd met through work, that had ended early in the fall. She was worried
about hurting my feelings, but I was honest with her and said I wasn't
all that upset. And I wasn't. That was my life. Not too many ups, but
not too many downs, either. Just average. Blah. I thanked her for the
fun and knew that I wouldn't miss the sex, which I'd never seemed really
good at anyway.
Though I would miss the lingerie she wore. She loved frilly and lacy
stuff, garter belts and basques and stockings. I loved how sexy she
looked. I wished I looked that sexy.
Silly, right?
Anyway, I was back to my life. Alone. And at peace with that. Boring.
At the community center near my place I saw a poster advertising a
"Riders Club", where folks of all shapes and sizes could socialize and
ride for fun. No races. I thought that sounded like something good for
me. Exercise, and socializing. Neither my best traits. But ones that
I figured I should work on. So the next Saturday morning, I joined up,
and began meeting the others. The group itself was close to two dozen
people, some young, some middle-aged, some old, some men, some women.
Different folks from different walks of life.
There were three men named Robert, or a derivative of. There was a
late-fifties widow named Mary Lou who had the filthiest mouth I'd ever
heard and told the bawdiest jokes, and seemed to delight in making me
blush. There was Joy and Sean, a mixed-race couple of newlyweds. There
were two or three university-aged men, whose names I didn't catch, but
who were all obviously athletes of some sort or other, because they were
all built! There was Stefan, a tall blond tanned in-shape guy,
originally from Sweden, with sparkling blue eyes and a seemingly never-
ending smile, and his 'best bud' Anthony, a smaller, olive-skinned
Mediterranean type, whose smile was also infectious and who looked
really hot in biking shorts.
Actually, they all did. Biking shorts. Lycra, or spandex, or some
similar kind of material. Everybody had them, and they made everybody
look sexier to me. Big, small, thin, fat, it didn't matter. I loved
how everybody looked in tight Lycra.
I was the only one not wearing Lycra. I felt out of place.
The ride was great, and I enjoyed everyone's company. I'm not the most
outgoing personality in the world, but I shared a little about me just
like everyone else, at the rest stops and afterwards in the "cool-down"
session. Most everybody welcomed me, and hoped they'd see me again next
weekend.
The following Friday, I left work and went to a big name sporting goods
store. The bike section. I went to buy a pair of bike shorts. In
lycra, or spandex, or whatever. I ended buying four pairs, as well as
four tops made from the same material. Why four, you ask?
Because as soon as I slid the first pair up my mostly-hairless legs, as
soon as the smooth satiny material met the cells of my skin,
particularly my inner thighs, as soon as I looked at the shape of my own
ass in the mirror, I gained the biggest erection of my life, and had to
sit down on the tiny bench in the changing room to catch my breath. I
couldn't believe how hard my little cock was. I wanted to jerk off
right there and then, and started to, but thought better of it. Licking
up the precum that had flowed out of my slit, I put my little willie
back in my tighty-whiteys and put my regular pants back on.
When I got home, I did masturbate. While wearing my new super-tight
biking shorts, making my curves seem silky and sexy, and my nipples
obscenely hard and pointy in my sexy Lycra top. OH MY GOD. So fucking
sexy!
The next morning, I met the gang. People congratulated me for looking
more like a real rider now. While I was standing chatting to one of the
Roberts, Stefan and Anthony arrived, and got their bikes off the rack on
whoever's SUV they were in. Anthony smiled bigly as he walked by and
checked out my new look. Stefan said hello to everyone as he passed,
stopped when he saw me, then smiled that million-dollar smile of his and
said "looking good, Cary" as he walked by. Then he slapped my ass, like
a football player slaps his team-mate. I'd never played the game, but
I'd seen such activity on t.v. For a second I wondered if the slap was
supposed to be followed by a slight caress, a small gesture of
affection. Maybe that's how they did it in the NFL.
My shock must have registered with a blush, which made Mary Lou complain
that she hadn't even told a joke yet. Anthony was smiling at me, really
smiling at me. Like, really smiling at me. I liked him. He was the
same height as me, and probably the same weight. We were both slight of
frame, although he had much more definition in his thighs and ass than I
did. He'd been biking for longer than I had.
About half-way through the day, I had ridden by myself for a while, and
then found a pull out to stop at and hydrate. Even though it was fall
going into winter, hydrating was still important. While I was
stationary Stefan zipped by, with a big smile and a big hello, and then
he was followed by a few others, and then Anthony.
Anthony chose to stop. We drank some water and ate some power bars and
chatted about nothing at all. Just people talking, to fill the empty
spaces. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and I enjoyed chatting with
him. He made even pedestrian conversations seem really interesting. As
we prepared to get back on our bikes and resume riding, he stopped for a
second, and seemed like he was having a hard time saying something.
That's what his face looked like.
"Is there something wrong, Anthony?" I asked.
"Cary, if I tell you something a little, um, personal, would that be
okay?"
I nodded yes. I was a little nervous, though, since suddenly he seemed
to be venturing into areas that could be embarrassing, or revealing, or
other things I'm not good with.
"The thing is," he continued, his face a mixture of elation and slight
uncomfortableness at the same time, "that you look really good in those
shorts. They really suit you. They make your legs and your, um, rear,
stick out even more than before."
I blushed a little bit. "Thank you, I guess," I said, hesitantly.
"You're welcome." Then he paused. Then he smiled even more.
"But you shouldn't wear them over your tighty-whiteys, Cary. They just
bunch up underneath and make parts of you, well
anyone....look....um....lumpy."
Then he kind of nodded his head downward. I looked down, and sure
enough my underwear had bunched in several places under the Lycra bike
shorts, and I did indeed look lumpy.
I looked up, my face turning red.
He saw that, and sensed my discomfort.
"No worries, we've all done it. But a hint for the future...tighty-
whiteys are out. Either go commando, or wear a thong. They're the
best."
I was puzzled. "A thong? You mean like a girls' thong?"
Anthony smiled even more. "They make them for men too!"
And then he got back in the saddle with his amazing looking ass and
pedalled off, and I joined him shortly thereafter.
Later that week, I went to the sporting goods store again, and asked if
they had thongs for men, for bikers. They didn't. But the goth-looking
snotty salesgirl said that the Victoria Secret just down the strip mall
had some. Then she laughed a lot, as if something she'd said was funny.
VS was full of amazingly sexy clothes, for sure. And while they didn't
have thongs for men, they did have thongs that would fit me. So I
bought four pairs. All in different colours. They were thin little
strips of fabric, with a small triangular piece of cloth that amazingly
made my tiny cock and balls feel snug and sexy!
Winter came and went, and most weekends saw a ride on at least one day,
if not both. I participated in most of them, and was getting in much
better shape. I was becoming much more social too, learning over the
months about many of the members of the club, their families, their
loved ones, their political beliefs, etc. I got to know everyone
better. And they all got to know me.
Mary Lou impressed me with her story. She'd battled cancer, and an
abusive husband, and come out the other side happy and healthy and full
of life. Joy and Sean were hoping to conceive, and it became an almost
weekly update on their sex life, but all good-natured.
Stefan and Anthony were life-long friends. They'd met in junior high
school and been buds ever since. Stefan dated Anthony's sister for a
short time. They were both the best man at each other's wedding. They
both ended up getting divorced around the same time, both getting
"fleeced" by their exes divorce lawyer, and realized the only way either
of them could afford to buy in our hot real estate market was to pool
their resources and go in together. So they owned a townhouse in Nelson
Creek Estates, which was a pretty nice development not too far from
where I lived. A little swanky, but not overly.
They'd invited me for a beer or a hot tub a couple of times. Stefan
would look at me like I was somehow precious, and tell me that I simply
had to come visit one day and see his photography collection. Anthony
assured me Stefan had a world-class eye. I was intrigued, especially
after one February day when he brought a single framed photo he'd taken
to show me. The image was breathtaking. A landscape, shot just at
twilight, the sun blazing in an almost orange light through the gaps in
hundreds of leaves of an oak tree. Really stunning.
So the Saturday before Daylight Savings time (spring forward!) the club
announced the Sunday ride had been cancelled. Several of us expressed
disappointment. After the ride, as they were putting their bikes on the
rack, Anthony once again invited me over the next day. Why don't we go
for a ride, just the three of us? I could also see a whole slew of
photos Stefan had taken over the years. I had to admit, the one I'd
seen was glorious, and I couldn't think of a reason not to, so I agreed.
They gave me their address, and I promised to be there right at nine in
the morning.
That night, like you're supposed to, I set all my clocks and watches
ahead an hour.
The next morning, I was up and showered and shaved (all over) and
wearing my little thong under my bike shorts and top, and headed for
their place. To arrive at nine o'clock.
Nine to those people who'd remembered to set their clocks ahead.
Eight to those who didn't.
Eight to those people who might be expecting someone at nine, but who
still had an hour to get ready for visitors. Who still had an hour
before they had to be dressed appropriately for company. Sixty minutes
until the place had to be presentable.
They had the end unit of the row of townhouses closest to the river. As
I walked down their driveway I thought they must have an excellent view
from their top floor. I left my bike leaning up against the garage. I
could see their side gate was open, and as I took off my helmet and
started to walk towards their front door I heard a noise from down the
side of the house.
An intriguing noise.
So I stepped towards it. Then I heard a similar noise, then another
one. They sounded like "mmmmmmmmm's" and "ooooooooooooooooh's" and
"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah's" all rolled into one. Almost like an audible
"YUMMMMMMMMM!", like someone was enjoying the tastiest treat they'd ever
had. Certainly and most definitely happy noises.
I quietly walked further down the side of their place. The noises got
louder and began to come out faster. The closer I got to the back
corner of their house, the more I could hear. To my surprise it was two
voices, both of them moaning in delight. And whispered words mixed in
too. I couldn't tell what those words were, exactly, but I instantly
knew I wanted to, and I began to creep closer. One of the voices was
husky and deep, and very male. The other was whispery and softer and
gentler, and almost feminine, but with a similar unknown urgency as the
first.
As I got to the corner of the building, I stopped. A quick peek to my
left told me the noises were coming from inside, as there was no one on
the deck outside or the hot tub, and I caught enough from my furtive
glance to know that the sliding glass door was next to me, just around
the corner, and open. That's why I could hear the noises.
And at that close proximity, I could now make out the words, in between
the moans. Words that changed me.
The husky deep voice was saying "oh baby" and "so fucking good" and "I
love you" and "I'll always love you" and "I love being inside your
pussy" and so on. All in breathy bursts, as if that person was also
physically exerting himself at the same time.
The softer, whispery voice was moaning "yes, yes, yes" and "oh god,
please fuck me" and "your cock is so fucking big inside me" and "please
love me forever, baby, please!". Also all in breathy bursts.
I had never in my entire life been so excited. So riveted. So alive.
So fan-fucking-tastically horny. My little cock was trying it's
darnedest to burst out of my G-string. And looking down, I could see a
poker-chip sized wet spot in my Lycra. Yummy precum, no doubt. My
heart was beating the fastest it had ever done, my breathing was racing
and deep and yet I still felt light-headed, and my blood was ripping
through my veins, exciting me and making me want to do something.
So I slowly and carefully leaned left, cautiously moving at a sloth-like
pace, and finally saw where the voices were coming from.
A life-changing experience.
A life-altering moment.
A soul-expanding enlightenment instantly gripping me.
The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
Bar none.
They were making love. Others might look at it as just 'having sex' or
'fucking' or whatever, but what Stefan and Anthony were doing was
waaaaaaaaay beyond anything so pedestrian. They were making the most
intense, romantic, sensual and passionate love I'd ever seen.
Bar none.
Stefan was naked, his big muscular tanned body now completely open to
me, my months of curious speculation about his body now answered.
Muscles clearly defined, masculinity oozing out his every movement, yet
coupled with a visible tenderness towards his lover. Anthony, on the
other hand, was not naked. Not even close. He was wearing the sexiest
most sensual clothes I've ever seen.
He was wearing a wig, which made him look like Cher. It was his face,
no question, but with eye shadow and blush on his cheeks and his lips
cherry red and glistening. His arms were bare, and his torso was bare
and shaved except for the delicious-looking black bra with tan cups.
His smooth bare tummy led to a garter belt, also black with tan
highlights, attached by six straps to silky-smooth black stockings, all
the way down to his feet, which had absolutely gorgeous black stiletto
pumps on, the heels by my guess at least four inches. Which still
wouldn't have made him as tall as Stefan.
They were as close physically as two people can get. Anthony was on his
back, lying on pillows on the floor. His arms were wrapped around
Stefan's back, his fingers taut and pulling at Stefan's skin. Anthony
had his legs spread lewdly and wide, his knees up towards his chest, his
calves turned and his ankles locked around Stefan's lower back. Stefan
was balanced on his rugged knees and elbows, his arms under Anthony's
upper body, his hands cradling Anthony's head. When they weren't
kissing, which was the most romantic and tender kisses I'd ever seen in
my entire life, they would stare into each other's eyes, the tips of
their noses touching. They were so consumed with each other and the
love that they were making that there was no way they would have noticed
me.
Their concentration, on each other and the moment, was the most intense
and dedicated I'd ever witnessed between two people. They were as close
as two people had ever been, both physically and emotionally. And they
looked like they were trying to pull each other even closer, each of
them trying to go over the line, be more as one, be more together, be
more joined.
Stefan was slowly sawing his cock in and out of Anthony's ass.
Anthony's pussy, I realized. When the cock was on its way out,
Anthony's moans increased in volume, like he was reacting on the most
basic level to the perceived loss of that which he wanted most. But
then the cock would saw back inside him again, slowly and sensuously,
and his joy was evident and palpable, both in the look on his face, and
the moans that came out of his mouth.
Which were echoed by Stefan's noises. He too, was continuing to moan
and say the most delicious sexy and romantic things. They were so into
what they were doing that there was nothing else in the world that
mattered. The love they were making, the man inside his lover, the gurl
with her lovers cock inside her. Both where they most wanted to be in
the world.
And what a cock it was. My god, I thought, he must be nine or ten
inches, and thick as my wrist. His shaft glistened, with lube, of
course, and when he was on a backstroke he would sometimes pull it out
until just the very tippy-tip of his cock was still inside his gurl and
I could see it's majesty and it's enormity and it's awe-inspiring size
and girth.
And I came. I stood just outside their sliding glass door in my panties
and my bike shorts, sky-blue today, and without touching myself or
rubbing myself against anything I began shuddering, my body out of
control, my actions entirely on auto-pilot, and began pouring my cum
into my own clothes. And while my normal orgasm would have been three
or four ropes of cum, this one was six. I'd never cum as hard, or so
much, as I did right then and there. My breathing had stopped, for a
gloriously long and yet perhaps dangerous amount of time, and then I
began gulping down air again, trying to not make any noise. I didn't
want to get caught, intruding on their most intimate of moments.
The most intimate moment I'd ever experienced.
But I needn't have worried. Their moans and words to each other were
loud enough that I was beyond their concerns. They were too heavily
involved. They were in a space totally their own, and I knew instantly
that the marching band from USC could have walked by in formation
playing their loudest song and these two wouldn?t have even noticed.
Metallica could have set up for a show on their patio and began blasting
"Sad But True" and they wouldn?t have budged a bit. The path they were
on was one that could not be blocked.
Stefan?s tempo began to pick up. His urgency was increasing. Anthony
loved it. I was as hard as a rock again, in my bike shorts, with the
huge stain of cum, some of it still trapped in my panties and lycra and
some of it being taken by gravity and slowly slipping down my smooth
shaven legs.
The way they spoke to each other, with no filters and no concerns about
social mores or conventional propriety, was liberating to me. Natural,
passionate, unscripted, and therefore totally and directly from their
hearts.
"Fuck me, baby, please!"
"Mmmm I love your pussy, baby."
"Oh god, your cock is so fucking huge in my pussy."
"Your pussy is like heaven."
"Never stop, Stefan, never stop....oh....god...."
The pace quickened again.
Anthony moaned.
"Can you feel that, my darling Toni? OH FUCKING CHRIST! My cock is all
the way inside you now."
"More, give me more!"
"I want to cum in your pussy forever."
"YES YES YES."
"I want to be in your pussy forever."
"OH FUCK YES YES YES YES!!"
"Promise me!"
His pace increased again. His cock was now ramming in and out of
Anthony?s ass. I could see the lovely muscles in his buttocks moving
and rippling every time Stefan bottomed out. Thighs met thighs, and
still they clung to each other, their eyes never leaving the others,
their noses just touching, and their passion indescribable and utterly
entrancing.
Despite his feminine appearance, Anthony?s voice started becoming deeper
and more masculine. Primal instincts were taking over, and he was
headed for the stars. I could see his eyes becoming glassy, as if he
was losing the ability to concentrate. As if he was headed for a place
where he didn?t need to be one hundred percent lucid.
Now he was almost shouting.
"I PROMISE STEFAN, MY LOVE. I PROMISE. ALWAYS AND FOREVER IN MY PUSSY.
ALWAYS AND FOREVER I WILL BE YOUR PUSSY. ALWAYS AND FOREVER."
The sweat was dripping off Stefan now. His muscles glistened and
gleamed as he moved, his body never leaving Anthony?s touch, but still
moving powerfully and hypnotically. They were clinging to each other,
as if any separation of their skin would be unacceptable. They were
wrapped around each other, entwined with each other, becoming as one,
like the beast with two backs.
Their lovemaking got louder and stronger now. Stefan?s pace had picked
up again; he was fairly slamming his huge cock into Anthony?s pussy.
The sound of that skin smacking, wet and loud and almost feral, is the
single greatest sound I?ve ever heard. The best music ever written, a
concerto of sensual euphoria.
I knew it couldn?t last forever, and neither could I. Despite the fact
that I?d just cum a few minutes before, I could tell I was headed down
that same road again. The shuddering had returned. I reached down with
my right hand and began barely rubbing my cock, thinking that I?d NEVER
been this hard in my life, feeling it throb in excitement, feeling it
just on the edge of orgasmic oblivion.
I was going to cum, and soon.
As it happens, so were they. Not more than a few seconds later,
Anthony?s back arched, his glassy eyes closed, his voice soared louder
and back towards more breathy and feminine and he just started wailing
the most ear-splitting and erotic moan any animal has ever made in the
history of the world.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!" And again. And
again.
Then it just became one continuous wail. I don?t know how, because it
didn?t seem like he was breathing in, but it went on and on. And then,
in the small gap I could see occasionally between their thighs and their
bodies, Anthony started cumming. Globs and globs of white, creamy cum
shot out of his little cock (which I realized was almost the same size
as mine, if not slightly bigger), and then his body started shuddering
and quivering and moving like he was being electrocuted, streams of his
cum running down his belly and up towards his chest. Towards his
deliciously sexy bra.
And that?s when Stefan slammed his mighty cock into his lover one final
time, all his muscles clenched and rigid, his back and arms and legs and
buttocks taut with the ultimate physical exertion, and he began pumping
rivers of cum into Anthony. I could see streams of it escaping,
squeezing out of Anthony?s ass despite the huge massive cock blocking
the way. The animalistic sound that came out that tall masculine body
was unlike any I?d heard before. Needy, dominating, primal, explosive,
and unequivocal.
Both of them screamed together, long and hard.
I came inside my bike shorts again. Long and hard.
I lost consciousness for a brief moment, my eyes closed, my penis
pumping out more cum into my panties and bike shorts. When I opened
them again, I saw the lovers, still wrapped around each other, still
entwined, still nose to nose, eyes open and staring deep into the other.
Their breathing was beginning to slow down, both of them huffing and
puffing from the exhilaration they?d just escorted each other through.
Then they kissed. Tenderly. Like lovers. Like the absolute best of
lovers. Best of friends. Soft, gentle, and needy.
END OF PART ONE.
Grace
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