A Reluctant Life Without Regrets Part 1 The Emergence of Amy
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My Week Of Sex With Amy free porn video
It was 1990, and I had been at my company for about a month when I discovered email. I finally got my own computer and a 286 at that. This was pre-Windows days but it came with a GUI interface and was connected, not to the Internet (that had been invented but was not yet a widespread phenomenon) but to a popular service provider. There was an email program as part of the GUI, and very soon I learned how to use it and emailed many people around the company, who like me were getting their own 286 computers.
But emailing my coworkers soon became not too sexy, and I then discovered I could email people all around the country. I also discovered how you could search for email addresses. It was pretty primitive; it would only show an address and not where it was, or any details about the person (that would come much later). Sometimes, however, you could tell where a person was by the email address, but not often. Plus it seemed that few people I knew from college had email accounts yet.
I went through my list of college buddies pretty quickly, and started to think of others who I had known but not too well. Suddenly Amy George's name sprang to mind. Amy had been in some of my classes. She was small, had kind of an odd face, but was otherwise very good looking, with a slender and excellent body. She had been important in her sorority, however, and I always considered her out of my league.
Anyway, I gave it a shot and up came an email address of [email protected]. Well, this was the first 'hit' I had gotten in all my searches. After some hesitation, I finally concocted a short email and sent it off to the address.
Hello – is this the Amy George who went to Eastern State 3 years ago? If it isn't, then please read no further. If it is, though, this is Lance and I just wanted to say Hi through this new and exciting medium – Lance
To my surprise, no more than about twenty minutes later I received a reply.
Hi Lance – how great to hear from you! I never expected to hear from an old friend on email. I mostly just get orders and complaints. So where are you located? – Amy
Hi Amy – I'm in Southern California. I work at Lockheed building satellites. How about you? – Lance
Lance – Wow California! You must spend a lot of time at the beach. That really sounds exciting. Much more than upstate New York – pretty dull here. - Amy
Over the next few weeks, we went back and forth several times. The exchanges didn't lag and kept getting longer and more involved. Part of it was the medium, I'm sure (the same thing that fascinates people today about social media) but Amy seemed genuinely interested. Actually, what she was interested in was where I lived. Much of her emails were inquiries about where I had been, what the beaches were like, etc. She wrote a couple of times how she would like to see the area. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I suggested she come and visit.
Lance – That would be awesome! How about you call me tonight and we'll discuss. My home phone is… - Amy
So I called her that evening. We talked for over an hour and a half. In reality, Amy mostly talked for an hour and a half while I listened. It turned out Amy had gotten a job in upstate New York in supply chain management. She hated her job and upstate in general. She had been engaged to a frat boy from college, with the understanding he would join her and they would get married after he graduated. Instead, he had taken up with a tall blonde girl with a rich father, leaving Amy alone and kind of friendless in a pretty empty part of the country. It turns out my email had come at an opportune time.
She suggested she fly out that weekend, and I readily agreed. The following Friday I picked Amy up at the airport. If anything she looked even better than I had remembered, for she had let her hair grow out and had obviously been working out. She gave me a peck on the cheek at the gate, and as we walked to my car went on and on about how she had picked up a tour book and was so excited to see several places. I listened with some irritation at how she was still obviously more interested in the location than me but bemused at how cute she was talking so excitedly.
We had left it open about where Amy would stay. Since Amy was here for sightseeing I didn't want to presume she would stay with me, so just in case I had made a reservation at a hotel not far from my apartment. As I drove from the airport I made a casual remark about how I had hired a service to clean my apartment, which I hadn't done in a few weeks.
"Oh, you didn't have to do that for me," Amy said, with a hint of mischief in her voice.
"I don't often have guests," I replied. Amy chuckled, and I took that to mean she would be staying with me. I was glad but also a bit unsure. I would be that way through Amy's entire visit.
I took her to a small seafood restaurant that overlooked the water. I thought that would make it feel less 'date-like' but at the same time give Amy a glimpse of local color. It worked like a charm – Amy was thrilled with the view and relaxed almost immediately. After we ate she produced the tour guide from her purse and we spent the next hour discussing her itinerary.
"How long were you planning on staying?" I asked.
"Oh, the whole week, if that's OK," she said, "my return flight isn't until next Friday."
Wow, I thought, that was more than I expected. I had put in for vacation only through Tuesday, figuring on at most a long weekend. But I flashed through my mind what I had going on that week, and figured I could pass on most of it.
That first evening when we arrived at my apartment Amy said she was exhausted and wanted to just get some sleep. I set her up in my bedroom and prepared the couch for me. Amy took a shower first and I'm not ashamed to admit I masturbated on the couch while she showered. She emerged wearing some sweats, said good night, and closed the door into my bedroom.
The first day we spent at the beach. We went near the pier since there's more 'action' there. On the way there she confided that she didn't bring any swimwear, since it's not something used much in upstate New York. I suggested we go to one of the many beach stores selling swimwear near the pier, which she readily accepted.
We went into one store, and being fairly early in the morning it was pretty empty, so Amy had a saleswoman all to herself. We spent over an hour in there while Amy tried on swimsuit after swimsuit and boy, it was l could do to keep from drooling as she modeled one skimpy bikini after another. The bottoms of one of them showed a lot of anatomy, and I confirmed that Amy had bikini waxed before coming here. Also, I appreciated that her breasts weren't overly small; they were, in fact, medium-sized with sizeable nipples (also apparent through the tops of the various swimsuits).
She finally chose a floral-print string affair and a black model. Both suits barely covered her magnificent ass, and Amy would spend the times wearing both pulling the bottoms over her ass, with little success.
We spent the day mainly lying about the beach, watching the crowds, and dipping in the ocean now and then. It was then we began to get closer, as Amy asked me several times to apply suntan lotion to her back. Also, when we were ready to leave we showed off at a shower stand before leaving, and Amy rubbed her hands all over my back while laughing.
We had dinner in our bathing suits at a quite nice restaurant just off the pier. Afterward, I was going to suggest we go for a stroll on the beach, but instead, Amy suggested we go back to my apartment.
We entered and Amy rushed past me when I opened the door. I went over and put our things on my kitchen table, and returned to the living room. While I was doing this Amy had quickly slipped off her bikini and was standing there, quite nude.
Boy, I've said several times you can page through as many issues of Playboy and Penthouse as you want, but there's nothing like a real-life, beautiful woman standing nude in front of you. My throat made a kind of gurgle sound, and I stood mesmerized while Amy laughed.
"If I'm going to be here a week we need to break the sexual tension," she said, "I find you attractive and would like to have sex with you this week if that's OK."
OK? Was she kidding? But I played it cool, saying, "That would be great, Amy. I've always thought you were very beautiful but kind of out of my league. This is like some sort of dream come true."
She smiled and I went over and took her in my arms. Embracing a nude woman for the first time is exquisite. She turned her head up and we shared a long, deep kiss, and then another one.
"I need to tell you one thing," she said, "I don't like missionary sex, it makes me feel trapped. But there are lots of other ways to have sex, you know."
I nodded my head, and on an impulse, I picked her up. She squealed and said, "Whaaat?", but then giggled as I carried her into the bedroom. I placed her on the bed and quickly shucked out of my swim shorts and t-shirt, and laid down next to her. We embraced and kissed as I ran my hand over her magnificent ass.
Amy rolled off, smiled, and began stroking my member. She had soft and very skillful fingers, and I enjoyed her stroking for a good five minutes. Finally, she stopped and chuckled.
"I wanted to make sure you're not one of those premature ejaculators," she said, chuckling, "not really. Would you touch my sex?"
I started to get the feeling this was some sort of test, with Amy trying to ascertain my sexual talents. Well, anyway, I knew my way around lady town and smoothly began rubbing her swollen labia, making sure to not rub too hard and rotating my hand frequently. She squealed softly and began breathing hard, obviously enjoying the process. I then gently placed my finger between her inner lips, plunging deep to get at the moisture hidden beneath, and swishing it back and forth, occasionally brushing her clit without stampeding pell-mell for it.
"Oh boy, that is excellent," she said finally, "But let's have intercourse now".
Amy got up and began to straddle me when I said, "I'd better put a condom on."
"We can use one later, but we don't need one for birth control," she said, "I had an IUD implanted before I left. Can't be too careful, you know."
That was fine with me. I had little time to dwell on it, though, before Amy grabbed my member, and quite smoothly lowered her warm and soaking vagina over it.
I mmm'd a long time, for she felt so velvety soft, and seemed to engulf my member with paradise. She didn't start up-and-down right away, but instead took my whole member in and turned her body back-and-forth for several minutes, which is just mind-blowing. Since she wasn't moving yet I reached up and began embracing her breasts, which brought deep breaths of satisfaction from Amy.
After several minutes she said, "OK, let's begin" and put her hands on her thighs and began almost straight vertical intercourse. Amy must have worked out because she kept this up for almost five minutes, before she leaned forward, put both arms on my chest, and moved her ass up and down. She began a soft squeal with every thrust, which built-in loudness as her thrusts became closer together. Finally, she went vertical again and started rotating as before.
"Don't be scared," she gasped, and let out some loud shrieks while holding her breasts with both hands. It was one of the loudest orgasms I had ever seen and must have gone on for thirty seconds or so. When she finished she fell forward and began intercourse once more while that old feeling crept up my spine. I started grunting softly with each thrust.
Amy smiled. "Your turn," she laughed, breathlessly, as I lifted my thighs and shot a huge stream of semen straight into her vagina. She stood still above me while I thrust my member into her body and continued my manly flow into her.
Finally, I stopped, and Amy came off me, and a long strand of cum went between my glans and her vagina as pearly semen dripped from her lips.
"Wow, you're a regular Niagara Falls!" she exclaimed. That was a unique way to describe my copious semen production, which has impressed pretty much every woman I've had sex with.
She collapsed on the bed next to me. "That was incredible," she said at length, "Most guys don't last that long. It's been a while since I was able to orgasm during intercourse."
We slept in the same bed that night, but the next morning she asked if I would go back to sleeping on the couch. She wanted to continue to have sex, she explained, but she was afraid all night I would roll over and crush her. I readily agreed but was beginning to suspect that Amy was one odd bird.
I didn't know the half of it, for Amy was the most idiosyncratic women I have ever known when it comes to sex. This would become apparent as time went on. The next morning she made breakfast (she made a pretty good omelet). We spent the day on my patented tour of the local sites which starts at the beach and ends in the city itself. Amy was thrilled.
When we returned, however, Amy asked to go to a drug store, but asked me to stay in the car. She came back with a large bag and a small bag, which she put wordlessly in the back seat. When we returned she suggested we take a shower together.
My shower is a bathtub with sliding doors, but it was large enough for big me and small her. She put her large bag outside before we got in, again saying nothing about it. She also had a bottle of a body wash which smelled nice and was a nice lubricant as we rubbed our hands across each other's bodies. I spent some time caressing her breasts, and then her ass, then she turned and quite skillfully washed my genitals. I told her she should stop before I had an accident. She smiled, and opened the sliding door and reached into the bag. She produced a plastic step-stool, wider than it was long, and placed it on the floor of the tub. Mounting it, she was almost as tall as me.
"Come closer," she whispered, and when I did she took my still soapy member, placed it between her legs against her labia, and quite firmly clamped her thighs around it.
"Now, start moving in and out between my thighs," she whispered, "Keep doing it until you ejaculate. You're going to love this."
Well, she's the expert, I thought, still wondering where she gained all this knowledge. I started moving in and out as instructed, and she was right, the feeling was exquisite. Amy also liked it and started her squealed-tinged heavy breathing after about ten minutes or so.
"Isn't this incredible?" she gasped, "I'm going to orgasm now."
She went flat against the wall of the shower and once again grabbed her breasts while shrieking for about thirty seconds. I became concerned someone might call the police, thinking I was beating her. After finishing Amy reached down and started massaging my nipples with her index fingers.
"OK, time for you to cum," she said, "Ready, one, two, three, CUM!"
Believe it or not when she said CUM! I show a huge wad between her legs and grunted through a rocking orgasm.
When we finished we rinsed off, got out, and began toweling off.
"That's amazing," I said, "I didn't think I could ejaculate on command." Amy laughed.
"Those climaxes of yours are spectacular. I hope the neighbors don't complain," I went on.
She laughed again. "I know, I've always had loud orgasms during sex. Oddly I don't when I masturbate alone," she replied, "Kind of interesting."
Amy's frankness could be startling but I found it rather arousing. Sensing an opening, I asked, "Why do you hold your breasts when you cum?"
"Oh, do I?" she replied, genuinely surprised, "I don't know, maybe I just like the feel of them. You know, I've had sex with other women, and I just like the feel of breasts, even my own."
Damn! I thought, how do I respond to that? Trying to play it cool, I asked, "Oh, are you bisexual?"
Amy smiled. "I don't think so," she said, "just bi-curious. I still prefer it with men."
That was a relief. We sat on my deck and looked at the town while sharing a bottle of wine and some cheese, relaxing after our exertions in the shower. Amy, always chatty, told me how she had done it with women twice, once in college with a girl in her sorority, and once in upstate with a woman she met at a bar. Both times it more out of curiosity than lust, and even though both were nice she still preferred men.
"Cunnilingus feels nice, but it's kind of gross to do it," she said, "but I found a way around that. You want me to show you?"
I couldn't say no to that, so we went into the bedroom and shucked our clothes. Amy grabbed her smaller drug store bag and laid down beside me. She pulled out a small but flat box and removed a flat piece of latex about 4 inches square.
"This is called a dental dam," she said, kind of clinically, "Dentists use them to isolate a tooth during surgery."
"Yeah," I said, "They used one of those when I got a root canal a few years ago."
Amy nodded. "They're very thin and flexible, and don't taste bad," went on. She laid down and spread her legs. She patted the bed between her thighs. I got the message and re-positioned myself between her legs. I looked down and Amy was placing the latex over her labia. When she stretched it out I saw the clear outline of her labia through the latex.
"OK," she whispered, "Go down on me. Use a lot of tongue. It will be fine."
I obeyed, and first went down and kissed her labia several times, to work up the courage. I had gone down on women several times but didn't like it, but there was none of the usual musty moisture and smell, so I put out my tongue and ran it over the two thick lips protruding through the latex.
"Yeah, you get the idea. That's nice," she said and gasped a few times.
It wasn't too bad; the latex tasted slightly minty, and I could feel the details of her softer parts with my tongue. I soon moved from the larger lips to the smaller ones.
"Put your mouth against it and start humming," Amy instructed. I did so and she gave several breathy squeals. While still humming I moved my mouth up and down for a minute or two.
"Now use your tongue," she gasped out, "I'm going to cum soon so hold on."
I did as she said and she was right to warn me, for she soon started her shrieking again and when she did, her thighs moved up and down so I had to hold on the maintain contact with her. When she finished she laid there breathlessly for almost a minute while I laid down next to her.
"OK," she said, "good cunnilingus calls for good fellatio in return."
That sounded great to me, so I laid down with my member at stiff attention. To my confusion, however, Amy reached over to her bag and pulled out a box of condoms. They were a brand I've never seen before. She took one out and rolled it over my member.
"I don't like the taste of a penis," she explained as she took up position for a good blowjob, "it's slimy and gives me penis breath. These condoms are very thin and don't have bumps or ribs. You're going to love this, I promise."
I didn't have time to protest as she immediately engulfed my member with her mouth. She wasn't kidding, for even though a condom her mouth felt like pure velvet. She went into full head-bobbing with side-to-side head rotations, and I have to tell you ejaculating into a condom while a woman gives you head is an incredible experience.
That's the way the week went. We would tour the city or go to the beach during the day and have sex in the evening. Amy didn't like sex in the morning, another one of her idiosyncrasies. She also didn't like it when I tried to suck her breasts while rubbing her ass while she was standing, which surprised me because most other women like that. She did like me sucking her breasts before intercourse, with me lying down and Amy straddling me, lowering her breasts in front of me.
While she didn't like the missionary position she did like doggy style, which we tried in a couple of different ways. The first she laid on the end of the bed with her head on a pillow, sticking her pert ass in the air with her honey pot open for business. I intercourse her standing up, and pulled out just before I ejaculated and shot my wad on her back, which I think she liked but not much. The next time she piled up two of my couch cushions in front of the couch and knelt on those while she put her arms on the couch. This was just the right height for me to kneel behind her and screw her silly. Both times she buried her head in her pillow to muffle her loud screaming, and the second time she screamed, "Cum inside me. Fuck me and cum in my body!"
The week went too quickly, for sex with Amy was amazing, but after a while, I started to get kind of tired of her constant instructions, for Amy liked things the way she liked them. Also, she would decide what we were to do every day and asked little of my input, so presently I started to feel like her trained monkey. I was starting to see why her fiance may have moved on to something else. For although Amy was a lovely and passionate woman she also liked being in charge at all times.
So I felt little regret when we woke up the morning Amy was to fly out. Just before we left my apartment, Amy sat with me on the couch as said, "This week has been something I will never forget. You're a terrific man. But I don't feel like we should do anything long-term, so after I leave let's not keep calling or emailing. I think we both need to move on."
I felt kind of relieved, although I said I was sorry and I thought she was an amazing woman. That satisfied her, and we had a casual ride to the airport, with Amy talking non-stop about all the things she had seen and done that week. We sat quietly at the gate, however, but when she was about to board her flight she gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "I guess I've taught you some things. Use them wisely."
She walked down the jetway and out of my life. I didn't even wait to see her plane take off. I never figured out if that final remark was condescending, arrogant, or just touching and sweet. Maybe a combination of all of the above.
An interesting post-script: The step-stool Amy bought when she visited I still had when I got married years later. My wife just started using it, never asking me where I got it, and simply accepting that I had it around and just liking it to use to reach high places when I'm not there. It's still around the house 25 years later, and my daughters have even used it as they've grown; for tea parties with their dolls when younger, and for school projects when they got older. I have of course never told anyone how I came about having it, but have always felt funny about having it around, but at the same time, I've been fascinated with everyone else simply using it as a piece of utility, knowing what I first used it for all those years ago. BTW – my wife and I have had sex in the shower in the same way Amy and I did, but I bought another stool to use for that, and have never used the one Amy bought for that purpose.
Trisha
- 26.10.2020
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