Stumbling Upon Life Chapter 2
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Stumbling Upon Life free porn video
Based on true events, this is an authentic, sexually charged story of a burnt-out middle-aged woman, fed up with her windswept life and a cheating husband who left her emotionally barren and physically abandoned. But with new independence, comes new joys.
Chapter 1: Beer Stains
She was plump with a lovely face; sitting alone in the dim, almost creepy corner of the bar right up near an old worn-out dartboard that seemed utterly abandoned; beautiful woman, looked sleepy, maybe even lonely; maybe she was bored with life; her phone was dark and her beer was full and she was just gazing ahead, ignoring life just like me.
I sat two stools away; just us hidden in a dimly lit corner among murky wooden walls in an otherwise active tavern, and I watched politely, without staring, as she swallowed her beer like a pro, right from the bottle. Almost like a guy might. Her lips engulfed the glass thread giving it pleasure it would never know, and her mouth and throat filled; too much. A bunch dripped out, soaked her chin, and splashed on her huge breasts. She wiped her mess with a jiggly, freckled arm. Leaning her curves against the bar, her dirty tank top was dotted with filth and now sported a fresh beer stain to match a couple older ones, which was in complete contrast to her rich, perfectly kept, thick blonde hair, hemmed impeccably in place, except for one stray strand that leaped out aside her nose, catching a bit of the hazy overhead light, toying with her fleshy, flawless face.
She giggled. What else could she do? “I’m a slob.” She smiled, waiting for me to talk.
“No, God, I am too. You’re not.” I caught myself. “ Please trust. You are not a slob. I spill all the time. You look great. Seriously great. I love your hair” I said, trying to heal the awkwardness.
She smiled wider and it was killer. She appeared to be mid 40’s and incredibly natural in every way. A unique tawny and freckly complexion with sexy speckles coating her big, saggy chest, and short, clean nails, drumming against her beer. And her sexy blue eyes were glassy and suggestive and completely and curiously locked to mine. She tilted again and filled her mouth with beer, but her eyes never moved.
“What are you doing sitting in the corner all alone?” I asked, trying not to look at her braless, tight tank top filled with fleshy cleavage and covered in what looked like food and beer stains.
This stranger gazed at me as if she were reading me, learning what I know, getting inside me. Then, she ever so slowly smirked, just halfway, and whispered “I’m finger fucking myself, and I needed a dark corner.” With dead on expression.
“What? Ahh…, Seriously?” I stuttered. Stopped in my track.
“I’m just k**ding, girl. I’m drinking some beers, and I’m still in my painting clothes, so, I’m sort of hiding in the corner.” She explained with a slur and took a drink. A syrupy string of saliva broke lose as she released the bottle from her lips.
I laughed casually, but inside my eyes were wide open.
“And why’d you come over to the dark side?” She asked, in her best Darth Vader.
I giggled and gulped my rum and coke and spit a piece of ice back into the glass. I glared right back at her and said sarcastically, “I needed a place to finger fuck myself. This looked right on.”
She kept her eyes locked on mine and slowly and carefully slid her bottle back and forth through the growing condensation puddle on the wooden bar. The sound of this was soothing. My buzz was soothing.
“I really need to pee. Come with me?” She asked with soft upward tone.
For some reason, with a nod, I grabbed purse and she led me to the ladies’ room. I had known this shadowy woman for the whole time it took me to suck down half a rum and coke, spoke four sentences with her, half of which were about fingering ourselves, and now I was about to piss with her. Normally, this would make no sense, but in my new world I figured, go with the flow.
I pointed to her tank top. “What are you painting, anyway?” I asked forcefully, competing with the noise of the bar, as we squeezed to the left through a party of college k**s.
She didn’t answer but took control of my hand in her haste to use bathroom. I completely understood what really needing to pee was like. As she moved through the crowd, her tight, black sweatpants revealed a weary complexion; covered in paint dots, stretched out like a distressed skin over her round, full ass. She almost bounced along through the busy saloon. Without a word, she gave the door a worthy knuckle; an emergency type knock, which might have been startling to an occupant of the throne. There was no response. She smiled, kicking the flaking door open hard enough for some blue chips of paint to fall to the floor. She dipped her head in first and then silently nodded sideways, guiding me in.
“What’s your name?” She questioned, staring at me for a moment as she locked the door.
“…Lindsay.” I answered as if I had to think about it.
“Aren’t you going to pee? You seem to be…” She cut me off.
“Finger Fuck me, Lindsay.” She burst in a winded breath.
In a bizarre flash without a second’s notice, her silky fingers captured my hand from its guarded position and guided it forcefully into the meaty flesh of her cotton-covered chest. Her beautiful face demanded a kiss, leaning into mine, oh! And then the kiss; without hesitation, without thinking, with just a gasp. Her weight broke any gravity holding me up, and my ass hit the sink. Fuck, she was soft. Her beer flavored tongue screwed my mouth like a cock. Our teeth knocked in a short rhythm until we adjusted our bodies. I tilted and gave her my neck. She sucked it and I kneaded her nipple under her dumpy shirt. What was I doing? Sick, repulsive, hideous slurping echoes filled the filthy bathroom. Her new beer stain making love to my breasts, while a smooth roaming hand coated in freckles dug its way into my panties seeking my wetness. Her fingertips just catching the top of my thick, unshaven mess.
Abruptly, A loud knock on the door froze us in place. Her hand down my pants, mine up her shirt, lips together but no longer moving or breathing.
“One sec.” She shouted.
We shifted, adjusting instantly with a thrilling silence, as if we’d been caught in the act.
“Rachael.” She sighed, looking in the mirror as she hastily ran her short fingernails through her hair.
I slanted my head a bit in question, adjusting my slacks and dignity.
“My name. My name is Rachael” She whispered and flushed the toilet hoping to bring authenticity to our bathroom visit as her eyes opened fully.
“Very… nice to meet you. I mean I, I never done this.” I stuttered softly, eyes wide, taking a breath. My new friend struck the light switch off with command before cracking the door, hiding the awkward evidence and sensed in a dark bathroom.
Chapter 1: Beer Stains
She was plump with a lovely face; sitting alone in the dim, almost creepy corner of the bar right up near an old worn-out dartboard that seemed utterly abandoned; beautiful woman, looked sleepy, maybe even lonely; maybe she was bored with life; her phone was dark and her beer was full and she was just gazing ahead, ignoring life just like me.
I sat two stools away; just us hidden in a dimly lit corner among murky wooden walls in an otherwise active tavern, and I watched politely, without staring, as she swallowed her beer like a pro, right from the bottle. Almost like a guy might. Her lips engulfed the glass thread giving it pleasure it would never know, and her mouth and throat filled; too much. A bunch dripped out, soaked her chin, and splashed on her huge breasts. She wiped her mess with a jiggly, freckled arm. Leaning her curves against the bar, her dirty tank top was dotted with filth and now sported a fresh beer stain to match a couple older ones, which was in complete contrast to her rich, perfectly kept, thick blonde hair, hemmed impeccably in place, except for one stray strand that leaped out aside her nose, catching a bit of the hazy overhead light, toying with her fleshy, flawless face.
She giggled. What else could she do? “I’m a slob.” She smiled, waiting for me to talk.
“No, God, I am too. You’re not.” I caught myself. “ Please trust. You are not a slob. I spill all the time. You look great. Seriously great. I love your hair” I said, trying to heal the awkwardness.
She smiled wider and it was killer. She appeared to be mid 40’s and incredibly natural in every way. A unique tawny and freckly complexion with sexy speckles coating her big, saggy chest, and short, clean nails, drumming against her beer. And her sexy blue eyes were glassy and suggestive and completely and curiously locked to mine. She tilted again and filled her mouth with beer, but her eyes never moved.
“What are you doing sitting in the corner all alone?” I asked, trying not to look at her braless, tight tank top filled with fleshy cleavage and covered in what looked like food and beer stains.
This stranger gazed at me as if she were reading me, learning what I know, getting inside me. Then, she ever so slowly smirked, just halfway, and whispered “I’m finger fucking myself, and I needed a dark corner.” With dead on expression.
“What? Ahh…, Seriously?” I stuttered. Stopped in my track.
“I’m just k**ding, girl. I’m drinking some beers, and I’m still in my painting clothes, so, I’m sort of hiding in the corner.” She explained with a slur and took a drink. A syrupy string of saliva broke lose as she released the bottle from her lips.
I laughed casually, but inside my eyes were wide open.
“And why’d you come over to the dark side?” She asked, in her best Darth Vader.
I giggled and gulped my rum and coke and spit a piece of ice back into the glass. I glared right back at her and said sarcastically, “I needed a place to finger fuck myself. This looked right on.”
She kept her eyes locked on mine and slowly and carefully slid her bottle back and forth through the growing condensation puddle on the wooden bar. The sound of this was soothing. My buzz was soothing.
“I really need to pee. Come with me?” She asked with soft upward tone.
For some reason, with a nod, I grabbed purse and she led me to the ladies’ room. I had known this shadowy woman for the whole time it took me to suck down half a rum and coke, spoke four sentences with her, half of which were about fingering ourselves, and now I was about to piss with her. Normally, this would make no sense, but in my new world I figured, go with the flow.
I pointed to her tank top. “What are you painting, anyway?” I asked forcefully, competing with the noise of the bar, as we squeezed to the left through a party of college k**s.
She didn’t answer but took control of my hand in her haste to use bathroom. I completely understood what really needing to pee was like. As she moved through the crowd, her tight, black sweatpants revealed a weary complexion; covered in paint dots, stretched out like a distressed skin over her round, full ass. She almost bounced along through the busy saloon. Without a word, she gave the door a worthy knuckle; an emergency type knock, which might have been startling to an occupant of the throne. There was no response. She smiled, kicking the flaking door open hard enough for some blue chips of paint to fall to the floor. She dipped her head in first and then silently nodded sideways, guiding me in.
“What’s your name?” She questioned, staring at me for a moment as she locked the door.
“…Lindsay.” I answered as if I had to think about it.
“Aren’t you going to pee? You seem to be…” She cut me off.
“Finger Fuck me, Lindsay.” She burst in a winded breath.
In a bizarre flash without a second’s notice, her silky fingers captured my hand from its guarded position and guided it forcefully into the meaty flesh of her cotton-covered chest. Her beautiful face demanded a kiss, leaning into mine, oh! And then the kiss; without hesitation, without thinking, with just a gasp. Her weight broke any gravity holding me up, and my ass hit the sink. Fuck, she was soft. Her beer flavored tongue screwed my mouth like a cock. Our teeth knocked in a short rhythm until we adjusted our bodies. I tilted and gave her my neck. She sucked it and I kneaded her nipple under her dumpy shirt. What was I doing? Sick, repulsive, hideous slurping echoes filled the filthy bathroom. Her new beer stain making love to my breasts, while a smooth roaming hand coated in freckles dug its way into my panties seeking my wetness. Her fingertips just catching the top of my thick, unshaven mess.
Abruptly, A loud knock on the door froze us in place. Her hand down my pants, mine up her shirt, lips together but no longer moving or breathing.
“One sec.” She shouted.
We shifted, adjusting instantly with a thrilling silence, as if we’d been caught in the act.
“Rachael.” She sighed, looking in the mirror as she hastily ran her short fingernails through her hair.
I slanted my head a bit in question, adjusting my slacks and dignity.
“My name. My name is Rachael” She whispered and flushed the toilet hoping to bring authenticity to our bathroom visit as her eyes opened fully.
“Very… nice to meet you. I mean I, I never done this.” I stuttered softly, eyes wide, taking a breath. My new friend struck the light switch off with command before cracking the door, hiding the awkward evidence and sensed in a dark bathroom.
Blaze
- 29.01.2023
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