Anger Not Those Wild Wyldewood Boys Chapter 6
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Anger Not Those Wild Wyldewood Boys...Chapter 7 free porn video
Lindsey and I closed down Joe's, and between the two of us we put down enough fine home brew to float a small flotilla. Being ex-military, I certainly had plenty of drinking experience under far worse adverse conditions, but Lindsey matched me pint for pint. She maintained that she wasn't much of a beer drinker (preferred wine) but she found the local "Old Ordinary" quite tasty. Soon she was sampling Joe's other more exotic offerings, such as the "Old Peculiar" and "Rex's Stout". I knew she was a demoness totally without fear or mercy when she finished the evening doing shots with Joe from a dusty stoneware jug marked "Old Overcoat". She undoubted converted Joe into a fast friend for life, but I wouldn't want to be inside her skull tomorrow morning. That stuff is lethal — even in small doses.
Driving for either one of us was way out the question, so getting her to her motel was going to be problematic. The simplest solution was to take her back to my small place, a old two story house that had been subdivided into three separate rental apartments via much jury rigging and lots of ad hoc maintenance performed by apprentice carpenters, plumbers and electricians, mostly using substandard materials with insufficient lighting and a gleeful abundance of applied wood filler. Still if I kept the lights off, the view shouldn't scare Lindsey too much. I certainly had the money to rent a much nicer place or even buy a decent house in town, or up in the nearby hills, of my own. So far, it just hadn't been a priority and I liked the fact that it was already furnished and nearly across the street from the hardware store.
Getting her ... well us ... up the stairs turned out to be a tad more challenging than I had expected. Even in low shoes she was having just a bit of trouble with the steps and for some reason they seemed to be a bit higher than usual for me as well. Laughing ourselves silly the entire time I half dragged, half carried Lindsey up the rest of the stairs and to my apartment door. I had more trouble with the key than usual too and Lindsey whipped out her P90 offering to take care of the pesky lock for me, but I managed to get it open before she started to put bullet holes in my door.
I'd like to say I got her tucked snugly into my bed, but in truth she passed out face first onto the rug in the living room and I ended up dragging her on the rug into the bedroom. I leveraged her onto the bed and got her jacket and shoes off of her at least. I then piled all of her weapons onto the nightstand in case she got lonely for them during the night. She had quite a collection. In addition to the P90 and P229, she had a concealed North American Arms "Black Widow" strapped to her right leg and a sheathed knife strapped to her left. For good measure she had another compact pistol in her purse, a Sig-Sauer P232 9mm. I just left that one in her purse. The Secret Service must love their Sigs.
I thought briefly about unfettering her bra at least or putting her into one of my old t-shirts so she could sleep more comfortably, but decided against pressing my luck. Anyone carrying that many personal firearms must have very distinct notions about the privacy of their body. I set out a clean (I think) old Army t-shirt on the nightstand in case she woke up later in the night (well later in the morning actually) and I grabbed an extra pillow and tried to make myself comfortable on the old worn out sofa in the living room.
By military standards, I've never been a good professional drinker. For starters, I have a fully functioning 'enough' gland that tells me pretty accurately when I've had more than two or three drinks. It gets mightily annoyed at me when I don't listen to it and have say, eight or ten drinks instead. Then it gets mean and vindictive against me, sending conspiratorial messages to my bladder telling me that I have to acutely take a piss nearly every fifteen minutes — even when there's nothing there to piss out. Then, for an additional bit of revenge, it plays havoc with my sleep cycle so that I'll wake up every hour or so all night long.
After my third premature wakeup and trip to the bathroom I discovered a most interesting fact about Lindsey that confirmed my deepest feelings of admiration for her. She had a similar sort of vengeful drinking gland too! I knew then that we were perfect for each other. Hah!
About the time she had made her own second or third trip to the bathroom, I was finally about to get back to sleep myself when I heard slightly shuffling bare feet near the sofa. I poked open one eye and made out the dim figure of Lindsey in the gloom.
"I can't sleep." She slurred.
She had at least changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing the t-shirt I had set out for her ... and from the looks of things not much else. I'm about average size, six feet more or less and wear a size XL, but my pretty house guest was tall enough that the shirt just barely covered her ass. From my position lying down on the old sofa, I had a pretty good unrestricted view up underneath the shirt of her panty-less crotch.
The view was quite good and unobstructed. Her vaginal lips were apparently quite smoothly shaven, except for the hint of a small patch of hair on the top of her mound. Since I had taken off my pants to sleep and was now just wearing a pair of old loose boxers she got quite a good estimation of my own swelling private parts as well. Nearly immediately my cock was standing straight up at full attention making a rather large tent in the front of my shorts. Lindsey giggled.
"I rather thought you fancied me from the way you were looking at me earlier today." She said with another giggle and a smile. "How come you haven't tried to kiss me yet, let alone not properly undressing me before putting me to bed? I just can't stand wearing any clothes at all in bed!" With that she raised her arms and pulled off my t-shirt. She was indeed quite naked underneath it.
I corrected my previous lack of affectionate gestures and bolted up off of the sofa so we could kiss properly. Nearly immediately my shorts joined her t-shirt on the living room floor and while we kissing a pair of wandering hands very expertly caressed my rock hard and fully engorged cock. Out of her jacket, blouse and snug bra, I was surprised to discover that her breasts were really a bit larger than I had expected, being nice firm C's rather than the smaller B's I had at first thought she possessed. The nipples were the real treat, being rigid and nearly an inch long and they stood up at attention for me to play with. I found out later that her nipples were nearly more sensitive than her clit and she could sometimes (rarely) come by just playing with them.
Somehow we made it back into the bedroom where she pretty much shoved me back onto the bed before she buried her mouth completely over my cock and began giving it an extreme talented and fully comprehensive inspection with her mouth and tongue.
"Are you good for more than one shot or do I need to take it easy on you?" She enquired between slurps on my cockhead.
"Depends how talented and motivated my partner is. I'm usually good for two rounds and sometimes even three if things aren't rushed or done in a big hurry."
"Glad to hear that," she replied, after an especially complicated twist of her mouth and tongue that nearly entirely deep throated me, "because I'm in no hurry at all ... slurp ... and if you're really good for three I'll give you a special and different place for each of them, but I want the first one right here and now — and the sooner the better!"
There was very little conversation after that. Lindsey had certainly blow a cock or two in her time (apparently you learn interesting things in an girls-only prep school) and was used to be easily able to deep throat most of them, but she was currently having to make some minor adjustments for my apparently somewhat larger member. Nevertheless, she was certainly determined to take every single inch of me and after a bit of throat stretching exercises she accomplished her goal and got her nose pressed as tight as it would go against my pubic hair. Between mouthfuls, she did make a vague witty suggestion that it was time that I joined the 21st century and discovered that real men did use razors down there too. I told her I'd let her do the shaving ... tomorrow, when she was sober enough to handle a razor down without scaring the piss out of me.
Once she got going in full rhythm there wasn't the slightest chance that I could have held off shooting my load into her mouth, even if I had wanted to. I was just able to warn her that it was coming in case she wanted to pull out, but if anything her mouth just gripped me tighter. She did pull slightly back so that the first half of my load filled her mouth as she flicked her tongue over and around my cockhead, but then she slowly pushed her head back down as far as it would go and stayed they with her nose deep in my pubes until the very last and final bit of oozing cum had landed down her throat a few minutes later. She hadn't missed a single drop. How she did it without being able to breathe I couldn't even venture a guess.
Getting me fully hard again was barely a challenge for a woman of her experience and exceptional talents. Delighted to find me soon rock hard once again she started off round two by climbing up on top and mounting me. She gave me a good long ride for at least half of an hour, but still being at least half-drunk she started to get wobbly after a bit after she came with her first orgasm and she then moved off to lie on her back and requested that I give her a good cock pounding. I was delighted to oblige her and she wrapped her arms and legs around me and was soon begging for more and give it to her even harder.
Elissa
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Anger Not Those Wild Wyldewood Boys Chapter 2
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Anger Not Those Wild Wyldewood Boys Chapter 5
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