Me my daughter
- 2 years ago
- 30
- 0
Claire Belfield's husband, George, was in a sweat as he climbed the stairs in a brownstone on West 24th Street. He hated climbing stairs. Was she home or was she out? Maybe she wasn't home yet. He always liked it better when she was home. If she wasn't home he'd have to wait for her, and any time he spent alone in the building always unnerved him. He felt like an outsider, an interloper, even the smells from the various kitchens seemed totally strange to him.
Now he arrived on the landing of the third floor and he approached her door with hesitation. He was thankful he hadn't seen anyone on the stairs. It wasn't much past six o'clock, and at this time in the evening there were usually a few people climbing or descending the stairs that ran up the center of the small building. But not this evening. He knocked on the door. After a long moment the door opened and Irma stood there smiling at him.
"Hello, George."
He mumbled at her. "Hello, Irma." He walked into the foyer, and then he stood there waiting while she closed and locked the door behind him.
"And how've you been, George?"
"Very well."
"Did you have a nice week?"
She always liked to talk about his week, ask him where he went and what he did, all the details of the life he had that was so totally different from her own. She wanted to hear about the Park Avenue parties. She loved hearing about the Park Avenue parties.
She poured some Scotch into a glass and handed it to George. He took a few sips of the Scotch, and after that he started removing his clothes. Irma sat down on the sofa and held her glass of Scotch as she watched him. He removed all his clothes except his shorts, and then he sat down on the carpet at her feet.
She smiled down at him. "Comfy, George?"
"I'm fine, Irma."
He didn't like to look up at her when he was sitting on the floor like this. It was too difficult, because then their eyes would meet and he'd feel silly. He felt silly anyway, he always did at the beginning of it, but looking at her face would make it worse. He felt silly and at the same time he felt excited. Sitting almost naked at her feet while she was still dressed always thrilled him and he could already feel his penis getting stiff.
When she wiggled one of her feet, he leaned over and kissed her shoe. There was no need for her to tell him to do it because they both knew the routine. She was wearing pretty black shoes with high heels and thin ankle straps. He kissed the point of the shoe and then her instep. The feel of the silk stocking against his lips excited him tremendously, and as he moved his lips up to her ankle, his excitement increased. Irma pulled back the hem of her dress to expose her calves, and this was a welcome sign to him that she wanted more leg kissing.
He kissed the calf and shin of one leg, and then he moved his lips to the other leg and he did the same. While he did this, he held her ankles with his hands, his fingers gently rubbing the fine bones.
Irma pulled her dress back even further, and now her thighs were exposed above the tops of her stockings. Another tug at the dress, and then she opened her thighs wide to reveal everything. She wore no panties, nothing at all to cover her belly and sex. The stockings were held up by garter bands, the tops of the stockings rolled over the bands to keep the stockings in place, and above that the milk-white skin continued upward until the joining of her thighs appeared. She had a large hairy sex, and the way her thighs were splayed open now exposed everything. George shuddered as he looked at it. He felt a definite tension in his penis as he stared at the dark hair, the hairy lips and the arrangement of pink and red between them. Irma had an unusually prominent clitoris, and as he looked at it now it appeared to twitch several times.
She slid her pelvis forward a few inches, and once again there was no need for her to tell him what to do because they both knew the routine. He leaned forward to press his face against the hair and the warm sex. At first he did nothing but sniff at it, his senses overwhelmed by the heady smells, the mixture of cologne and sweat and feminine flesh and a hint of urine on the hairs. He had his nose pressed against the top part of her clitoris and that's where he kept it. Irma closed her thighs against his ears, not enough to make it difficult for him to breathe, but just enough to keep his head securely in place.
He felt the upper part of her body moving, and in a moment he heard the radio come on suddenly. She'd reached over to the table at the end of the sofa and she'd switched it on while she kept his head imprisoned.
He heard a voice out of the radio. Who was it? Then he recognized it. It was Walter Damrosch babbling something about Wagner. George kept his face pressed against Irma's sex and he ignored the radio. Was she actually listening to Damrosch? He knew so little about her. She worked as a saleswoman in one of the Seventh Avenue department stores, but he wasn't sure whether she sold ladies underwear or ladies dresses. Anyway, what difference did it make? All he cared about at the moment was the feel of all the hair on his mouth and cheeks. He started licking her now. He kept his nose pressed against her big clitoris as he worked his tongue around the soft flesh between her labia.
As he sucked Irma's juices, he thought about Claire and his marriage. He wondered what Claire would think if she saw him now. Would she roll her eyes? Would she faint? Or would she simply nod her head and declare that he'd gone mad? What a ridiculous thing it was to be more familiar with Irma's cunt than with the cunt of his own wife. In all the years of their marriage, he'd never done to Claire what he was now doing to Irma. He was certain Claire would refuse if he ever tried to do it, and if she did allow it just once she'd hold it against him forever. He imagined the way she'd sneer at him with her eyes. Claire had a way of doing that: she knew how to change the appearance of her eyes so they sneered at you.
He kept his tongue moving. Irma had once told him he was no good to her down there if he did nothing but sniff it and kiss it. She told him she wanted to feel his tongue everywhere, especially on her clitoris and inside the hole. So he did that now. He licked the knob of her clitoris, and then he moved his tongue lower down to lick the opening of her vagina.
Then Irma spoke to him: "I'm expecting a friend to arrive any minute."
George froze, his body motionless, his mouth still pressed against Irma's sex. She kept her thighs closed around his head and there was no way he could move even if he wanted to.
"Her name is Helen," Irma said. "I'm sure you'll like her, George. In any case, it's what I want, isn't it? Go on then, don't stop what you were doing, George."
He started licking her clitoris again. This time she used both hands to hold his head, and as his tongue moved up and down in her furrow she pushed his head around in circles. He had done it this way often enough to know that when she had both hands on his head it meant she'd reach a climax soon. He licked harder, his nose rubbing her clitoris while his tongue tickled the hole, and before long she raised her knees up and groaned as she reached a crisis.
She kept him there, kept his face pressed against her wet sex as the spasms made her body shake. He continued licking her cleft with his tongue until finally she placed a foot on one of his shoulders and she pushed him away. "That's enough, George." He fell away on the carpet on his back, his erect penis sticking out of the fly of his shorts. Irma kept her thighs wide open, and as he looked at her he could see the drenched slit of her cunt not quite hidden by the hairy gaping lips.
Irma smiled as she looked down at his stiff penis. "Look at that. You're excited, aren't you? Come closer to me, George. I can't do anything to you if you're lying there so far away from me."
He shifted his body on the carpet, sliding closer to her until she could get her feet on him, her pretty shoes with the high heels and thin ankle straps. He thought his wife had shoes like these, but he wasn't sure. In any case, these were Irma's shoes and not Claire's, and it was Irma who had her shoes on his body.
The first thing Irma did was push the toe of one shoe at his mouth. He'd expected it, indeed he was waiting for it, and as soon as the toe of the shoe touched his lips he opened his mouth to accept it. Irma muttered something as she pushed more of the shoe inside his mouth, and when he turned his eyes to look at her belly he saw that she had her hand between her thighs.
He sucked the toe of her shoe awhile, and then she pulled the shoe out of his mouth and she placed her foot directly on his erect penis. She flattened the organ against his belly, rolling it from side to side with the sole of her shoe while she smiled down at him.
"Are you hot, George?"
"Yes."
"You'll be nice to Helen, won't you?"
"Yes."
"She's a dear friend and I've told her all about you. Don't worry, she'll keep our secret, George. But you're going to do what you're told, aren't you?"
And at that moment the doorbell rang and George realized that Irma's friend had arrived.
"Just stay where you are," Irma said, pulling away from George and then rising from the sofa.
He lay there trembling, more uncertain of things than ever before, and also more thrilled. The idea of a complete stranger being privy to his secret life with Irma was an exquisite shock. You want it, he thought. Irma certainly knew a great deal about him. Or maybe she didn't and she just didn't care one way or the other. He was merely a toy that she used to amuse herself, and now she wanted her friend to share in her amusement.
He obeyed Irma and he remained stretched out on the carpet. When Irma and her friend approached him, he looked up and he saw an attractive woman who appeared to be Irma's age. The woman smiled down at him. "Hello, George. I've heard a lot about you."
Then her amused eyes shifted to his groin, and George blushed when he suddenly realized his penis was still protruding from the opening in his shorts.
"That's a cute dingus," Helen said with a laugh.
The two women moved away from him, and George lay there and listened as Irma poured some Scotch out of the bottle for Helen. They talked quietly, the words indistinct, but he was certain they were talking about him. Once again a quiver of excitement went through him as he realized he was now in the power of two women instead of just one. And he did like Helen. She was definitely as attractive as Irma, and he couldn't help wondering what she looked like without clothes.
But he was also uneasy. Irma was more or less predictable because he'd spent a dozen or so evenings with her and he had an idea what to expect. Helen was something new. And there was also the possibility the presence of Helen might make Irma act differently toward him. He decided it was too confusing and the best thing was not to think about it. Whatever Irma wanted, he knew he would do it anyway. He looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall opposite him and he was thankful it was still early enough for them to do things. As usual, he'd already telephoned home while he was at the office and he'd told the maid it would be a late evening for him.
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The light was weakening. The rosey fingered twilight a sema. She turned to the chair in her bedroom, glanced outside, lifted the chair, and threw it out of the window. The shards cascaded on the cobbles below. Passersby looked up, swift footed, in shock, as adversity manifest. She had ran, and dived, thinking of a dolphin. She flew. Not for long. Her general misfortune combined with the earth, the early morning, nourishing mountain mist, in serene satisfaction. She ought to have looked...
Young Stepmother Part 16 By Mark Dayette Reginald said, "You have new tattoos, on your right ass cheek it says 'Faggot' in red letters. And below your navel it says 'Gay' in green letters." I nearly fainted when he said that. Oh my God! What had I done? I didn't even remember how it happened, surely I wasn't that drunk? I looked under the blanket and there was the 'Gay' tattoo, I didn't need to see the new ass tattoo, I instinctively knew it was true. Reginald wasn't happy. "What...
“No, not here, my husband might see us… Uhmm! Your fingers are magical… keep rubbing my clit, just like that, O yes….”, I said to Priya’s husband who had lifted the frock coat and had grabbed my pussy when I was washing my hands in the washbasin. “I like that chubby ass of yours, you dirty slut. I’ll spank it hard and make it red”, a coarse voice spoke to me. Strange enough, I couldn’t see the washbasin, nor did I felt the water running on my fingers. But more importantly, I thought why was...
Well let me tell u something about myself first. My name is Abhishek Saxena. I’m working as a Manager in a firm now to be really honest. I had never been in a homosexual act before this incident. And even this one wasn’t planned. ever since i started working my life had been very stressful. WORK WORK And WORK!!!.., I hardly had time to go out with my Girlfriend, so we kind of grew distant. I was already quite stressed about my work and my failing relationship when this incident happened!, My...
My FWB and I had just had some afternoon fun in a local budget hotel when her phone pinged. It was her best friend asking what she was up to as she was bored. She didn't know about me so I cheekily suggested my FWB take a pic of my cock and send it to her... at first she didn't want to... but after some light tickling and fingering she agreed to.Her friend immediately wrote back 'OMG! I'm soooo jealous of u bitch! I've not had any in ages :('.I smiled as I read it as did my FWB,"Why don't you...
There is much I must learn about humans. There is great shadow in human speech. Their talk is much of things that are not in the now. Some of these things already go by and some are in the brightness ahead that may come. Others do not come and may not come ever. And some of the things they speak are things that will never come, things that cannot be seen or felt at all but are only shadows of the mind. Like this math-e-mat-ics, this thing of numbers, of which Maggie seems to care so...
This time she opened the blinds all the way. The light was intense. She shielded her eyes from the blinding glare. Suddenly, the light turned a bluish color. It wasn't as bright, so she uncovered her eyes, but it still blinded her. But she started to feel weird. The light was mesmerizing her; she felt a strong urge to go to the light. Her body was oddly warm, and her arms and legs started to tingle. She was scared out of her mind, but she didn't look away; she felt like she was...
Aaron Sanders was shocked when he heard that his father had remarried. His mother had died when he was young, and it had always just been him and his dad. When he was going to college at Pitt, his father told him during his senior year that he was dating a woman, but getting married only three months into their relationship was a huge shock. Heather was a woman who had been divorced a long time and he guessed they just fell into a mindset of hurrying up because they were both in their forties....
The only one not having fun, it seemed, was sitting idly in a back corner, near the bar. She was alone and sober, yet again, while her friends fucked with reckless abandon. Always the self-designated driver to these events, she never managed to let loose and relax, always too afraid of possible retribution. All that responsibility meant was that she never had any real fun. She was on her third glass of orange juice - "Alcohol free, thanks." - and was refolding her cheap paper napkin for...
The next morning, the day of the wedding I wasn’t going to attend, Eleanor Kaminski was waiting for me at her back door at 9 a.m. She was wearing a man’s white broadcloth shirt, a little frayed at the collar, and nothing else, Like some model in a Swedish pipe tobacco commercial. She unbuttoned it as she led me through her kitchen, and when we reached the hallway she stopped and turned, dropped the shirt to the floor, and knelt in front of me, completely naked.“I can’t think about anything else...
Straight SexI met Miguel when I moved to Washington. For a couple years I knew I liked guys but I had no test subjects...so it was looking in the showers for me. I thought I had Miguel figured out. Miguel is a hot mexican/native wrestling in the winter and baseball in the spring/winter. I know what your thinking--A WRESTLER! Well I never saw him in his uniform..but he wore underarmour all the time around me. Makes you want to pounce don't it. Im Shawn, irish and a whole other stuff, green eyes and blonde...
GayHow are you? I m f9 and hope you will be f9. I m 23 male from lahore. My name is kamran. I read many stories on this site. Today, i m presenting my own sex experiance. I shall told my story in urdu. Ajj jo kahani mai app ko bata raha hoon yeh kuch aik saal pehle ki hai. Yeh kahnai mere girlfriend aur us ki cousin par hai. Jab mai 22 saal ka hua tou mere koi bhi girlfriend nahi thi mai kafi sharif kisam ka larka tha. Phir aik din jab college ka last day tha mai ghar se college ki taraf gaya...
From Urban Dictionary – “A sissy is a biological male; who acts really feminine, slutty, horny, also really bimbo like, etc. They tend to be really submissive but not all of the time. Most sissies are into men, but some are into women, some are Bisexual or Pansexual as well. Most of them like to play with other sissies as well.” Fair warning. If you don’t like, don’t read it. Note – This is a work of fiction, make-believe and sexual fantasy. It is not based on real people or actual events....
She gazed out the hospital window at the familiar scenery below. Vast fields of green and gold sprawled out to the horizon. The August sun beat down upon the asphalt of the highway running in the foreground; the radiating heat turned passing cars into mirages. The hospital was always cool; conditioned to a comfortable 72 degrees, but she could feel that unforgiving heat through memories of hot and humid Missouri afternoons, and it spread down from there to all of the parts of her body. Today...