Abby Davis Having His First Fun with Abby
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Warren's WomenChapter 5: Sunday With Dear Abby free porn video
His hand was poised to knock for the first time when the trailer door opened. Abby stood there smiling at him, her perky breasts pushed against the Grateful Dead T-shirt she wore.
"Come on in," Abby said. "Take a load off. I happened to see you getting out of the 'vette."
Warren entered the trailer, bending even though it wasn't necessary. His piercing brown eyes digested everything about her. He was trying to disguise the hunger within him, but it would have been evident to the most casual observer and there was nothing casual about Abby.
Abby was a stripper at Platinum Gold, a gentleman's Club on the outskirts of the city. At the moment, she was wearing red running shorts and sandals along with the 'T'. Her hair was stacked in no particular order. Bobby pins mix and match. Abby was holding a paperback, wearing a Walkman.
He looked at her quizzically.
"I tune in between the stations, she said, "get some white noise and get into my hot read."
What is it?" Warren asked with interest.
Abby showed him the cover. 'Orgasms A Plenty.' Her finger held her place halfway in.
"Dibs on the book," he grinned.
"Only if I can watch you read it," she said mischievously. A lewd glint flashed across her eyes and he caught it.
"I'm half way through."
"I'd like to be half way there myself," he smiled, his eyes slowly devouring her body from head to toe. "And then some," he concluded. He was fully aware some women detested this treatment. He didn't count Abby among them.
"Wouldn't you tho," she said, secretly pleased with him.
He studied her. From the razor line on her thigh where she'd stopped shaving, up to her neck and the wisps of dirty blonde hair clinging there; to the way she cocked her head when he spoke, as though giving careful consideration to each word he uttered.
She took him in. The extra large sized hands, chest hair curling out of his sport shirt, to the swimming pool deep eyes that drew her closer; and the warrior's nose.
Abby reflected "He must've got that broken over a woman," and softly sighed.
They sat down in the kitchen. Silence reigned for about three minutes as they contemplated one another.
"I thought you'd call before dropping in," Abby said breaking the silence. She didn't mind his dropping in unannounced, didn't feel selfconcious about her appearance either.
Warren noted this and filed it away in his strategy book.
"Grab a chair Warren. Want a Bud?"
"That'd be nice, thank you," he said, glancing around the kitchen and noting that it was used frequently. The kitchen had a comfortable feeling about it.
Abby handed him a can of Budweiser, then reached back into the cooler and withdrew one for herself. His started to sweat immediately, and he watched it puddle around the base of the can.
"Balmy, isn't it?" Warren said, breaking the silence. He was running his index finger along the condensation, looking at her with renewed interest. Then he looked around and found a pile of coasters in the center of the table along side the salt and peppershakers. He took two, slid one to Abby and placed his Bud on his and turned his full attention back to Abby.
"Maybe," she countered, sipping her beer, then placing on her coaster, "but let's work up to it gradually."
"Oh?" Then he caught it, squinted at her and smiled. "You're pretty quick," he said, lifting the can to his mouth.
"So'd you come over here just for a free beer, or what?" she said, then took a swig of her beer. Watching his face as she swallowed.
"I was hopin' for more than what this seems like."
"What's that?"
"Well, to me... umm, seems like I'm fillin' out a questionnaire."
"No doubt you are," she said smiling, her shoulders were pulled back to accentuate her small breasts and her nipples could be discerned through the light gray material. Abby was enjoying herself and took another swallow of her beer.
Walkman lying on the table, static fizzing away; Warren reasonably close at hand; Abby felt a slight tingling within her body. The smile in her eyes said I knew this would happen.
"So whatcha been doing with yourself since that night at King Neptune's?" Abby curled her legs under her and licked her lips.
"Was that the night I taught you how to play that game?"
"Yeah boy." And she laughed loudly while her fingernails scratched the fabric of her red shorts. "You're a good teacher you are." Abby cleared her throat, "Hurumph," and continued. "Only the regulars could make the damn thing land on the nail, but you showed me how in three tosses, and I was a regular champ at it after that."
Shyly Warren responded. "Well, once you know how..."
"Sure," she said interrupting him, "but showing someone that fast ain't easy. That's why I gave you my number and address. I wanted to see you again."
Gracefully, Abby got up from the table and glided to the cooler. "Wanna join me in another brew?"
"Sure, but aren't you worried about your figure? Most girls I..."
"I'm a dancer. Didn't you know that?"
"No," he said, startled but pleased. "I didn't."
"At the Platinum Club?" Abby said tentatively.
"That's interesting," Warren said, "I, err, don't usually go to those clubs." He put his hands up in a defensive posture and said, "It's not that I'm against them or anything like that, hell they're great, but I..." he paused, trying to determine if his next words would hurt her feelings, then went ahead. "The purpose of those clubs is to make horny guys feel a little better about themselves. And make some bread besides. I don't mind that, in fact it's a good thing really. It's just that I don't need it. I find my, err, relationships in other places."
"Like King Neptune's?" Abby asked, eyes sparkling.
"Yeah, like King Neptune's, teaching a sweet young thing how to play a silly game. But since you brought the subject up, I gotta tell you you've got a sensational body. It's evident you take good care of it. In fact, I'll bet those are the first beers you've had since the night at Neptune's."
The room was still and silent as Abby digested his words. "He was right about the beers," she thought, "he might be right for her too."
Waiting for Abby to break the silence, Warren glanced out the kitchen window as a beer-bellied neighbor wearing an undershirt and pajama bottoms came out of his house to sit down in a rocker on his front porch armed with a six-pack and Hustler magazine.
"Ah love," Warren thought, "it's everywhere." He took another sip of beer.
She put a finger to her lower lip and said, "Let's talk about, ummm... kissing."
"I'm game, he said his eyes locked on hers. I'd rather do than... but whatever..."
"Let's talk about G-spots," she said, feeling her body beginning to flush and discovering she'd finished another beer. Her mind on other things, she tossed the empty at the trash can, but missed and ignored it as it rolled across the kitchen floor, ending its journey at the table leg near her foot.
He sat still, watching her. Inhaling her, waiting for her next move. She didn't appear to be nervous, and eventually Abby looked him in the eye and said, "So, you want to begin or shall I?"
"Begin what, he thought, thinking of all his past frustrations," but shrugged them off contemplating the new experience before him and said, "Can't we move over to the couch and let things take care of themselves?"
"I don't know about that," Abby said with a feigned pout, " I was talkin' about talking."
"How 'bout a compromise?
"I'm listening," she said and pulled her shoulders back again.
"Here come the boobs again," Warren thought to himself as he said, "We go to the couch for oh... say fifteen minutes, see how it goes. If it goes okay, we fill out the rest of your questionnaire."
"You think you're that good a kisser?
"It's worth a try."
Abby smiled at him, her hands laced together, chin propped up on them, one thumb slowly rolled along her lower lip.
He sipped his beer and waited.
She unlaced her hands, stood up and walked over to the couch in the living room, and stood there while Warren looked back over his shoulder.
Her lips came apart with a soft snap. She put her weight on one leg, gave a subtle shift of her hips. Warren stood and quickly moved to her.
They kissed for maybe ten minutes before Warren conceded she was the best kisser he'd ever met despite the bad springs poking into his thigh.
She had sat close beside him, a Cheshire grin on her face. And that grin had come forward into his face until it became his. Her lips parted; her feathery tongue slid into his mouth, leisurely and strong. And then they were both sipping from deep within each other's soul. Abby, running her tongue in and out of Warren's mouth, her hot saliva mixing with his, slowly fucking his tongue, then biting his lips. Warren compelled her to retreat as his tongue flowed like a river into her mouth. They clung to one another on the couch for minutes, tied erotically by their tongues and mounting passion; and wrestled for control in a battle neither could win, nor wanted to win.
Dusk was ending when Warren rose from the couch to make a trip to the bathroom. When he came out Abby wasn't on the couch. He stood in the living room for a minute, scratching his stomach and listening to the lawn mower outside, then he strode down the carpeted hall to her bedroom.
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