This is the story of a marriage which was supposed to be a dream come true, but it turned out to be a nightmare. The only good that came from this “dream” marriage to Gretchen was my relationship with her daughter, Miss Sarah.
Gretchen and I dated many years ago here in Georgia and then we broke up. Oh, how I wish it had remained that way. How very much better off I would be, but that is not what happened, and I have only myself to blame. When someone dies, we tend to forget their flaws and frailties and too often the dearly departed is soon canonized under the authority of their survivors’ faulty memories. So, too, do we remember our failed relationships. We usually forget the good and remember only the bad, helping ourselves to detach and not mourn the loss of love. But sometimes, particularly for melancholics, we forget the bad and remember only the good, and we are haunted by the memory of love lost, dogged by the unanswered question of what might have been.
No, many years later, I went looking for the girl from my past who had haunted me, the girl who I could not get out of my thoughts, the girl against whom every other girl in my life had been measured. I found her in Ohio, in the midst of a divorce and raising her daughter.
When Gretchen and I had dated many years earlier, she had been a cute, sweet, slender, petite young girl who also happened to have big breasts. She was the kind of girl that would make a father proud if his son was dating her. That, however, was almost 30 years ago and time, unfortunately, had not been kind to Gretchen. Cute had become slightly wrinkled, petite had become a little dumpy, and big-breasted had become saggy-titted.
Perhaps I’m being a bit tough on her. Actually, she wasn’t unattractive for her age and I really didn’t expect that, at age 48, she would look like she had at age 24. However, Gretchen was no longer a beauty queen and she definitely had no potential to be called a “trophy wife.” She was the kind of woman who would prompt guys to say, ‘well, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed,’ but, of course, there are not too many guys who will kick any woman out of bed when they need to get laid, so this isn’t exactly glowing praise for Gretchen.
To everyone else, Gretchen’s daughter was Sarah. When it became obvious that Gretchen would move back to Georgia to live with me, I jokingly told her daughter that I would address her as I would any Southern young lady and I hoped that she would aspire to adopt some Southern mannerisms and gentility. With that explanation, I began to call her Miss Sarah and, from that day forward, I always called her Miss Sarah.
When I first met Miss Sarah, she was 18 years old but only a junior in high school. Thanks to her mother’s lack of caring about education, Miss Sarah had failed a grade in elementary school and they had never pursued any opportunity for Miss Sarah to try to catch up with the other children her own age. This was quite shameful, because Miss Sarah was actually an intelligent young lady. She was not Einstein’s cousin but she was definitely above average intelligence.
However, if was Miss Sarah’s beauty, and not her brains, which was most captivating. She had the face of an angel. If she had been painted by daVinci, people today would be saying “Mona who?” She had big brown eyes which could melt any man’s heart at any time and under any circumstances. She had big pouty lips which begged to be kissed. Like her mother, she had big breasts which were certainly too large to be called “pert” or “perky” but which were definitely young and firm and not saggy like Gretchen’s hooters. Miss Sarah’s little behind was so cute that I always just wanted to grab it and squeeze. She had a few — a very few — extra pounds which needed to disappear, the kind of pounds which usually were referred to as “baby fat,” but she really wasn’t fat. She was a nubile goddess, an undefiled example of sensual innocence and budding sexuality. She was a goddess, she was my goddess.
* * *
After I had located Gretchen in Ohio and re-established our communications, I eventually went there to visit. I won’t bore you with too many details of me regularly fucking a 48 year-old, overweight, saggy-titted, used-up, has-been housewife in every room of her house, including her daughter’s bedroom. I won’t bore you because it was just fucking. Now, it wasn’t bad sex because, quite honestly, I’ve never had bad sex. But, as they say, I’ve never had bad sex, but some of that sex is better than the rest. This sex wasn’t the better kind. Of course, I told Gretchen that it was great sex, but, really, it was just fucking.
One morning, Gretchen and I awoke early, long before her daughter was capable of opening her eyes and putting both feet on the floor. I was horny, as usual, so we fucked on the sofa in the living room. The possibility that her daughter might wake up and catch us made it a little more exciting, and that at least partially compensated for the fact that Gretchen’s pussy was a sloppy fit for any normal-sized guy. I don’t know if it was loose from childbirth, excessive fucking in her youth, or years of her ex-husband stuffing an extra large dildo in her pussy three times a week (by her description, he was truly a twisted, sick son of a bitch,) but it was not a tight fit.
After Gretchen and I had sex, we got dressed and fixed a cup of coffee. I stood in the family room behind Gretchen, who sat at her computer desk and began reviewing her e-mails. We spoke quietly for a minute as she scanned the long list of unopened items and then she became absorbed in a rather lengthy missive from a friend.
I heard a noise in Miss Sarah’s bedroom. Her bedroom adjoined the family room. She had slept with her door only partially closed, as was her habit. As you stood in her doorway facing into her room, her majority of her room was to the right, but her bedroom door was also hinged on the right side; very little of the room was visible from this vantage. In a more modern house, the door would have been hinged on the left side, but Gretchen’s house was old and had several bizarre features.
As you stood in the doorway with the door halfway open, you could not see much of her bedroom, except her antique dresser which was against the opposite wall straight ahead. The dresser had three mirrored sections. The middle section was fixed to the back of the dresser and the two side sections were hinged to the middle section and were angled slightly inwards. Miss Sarah probably assumed that she had some privacy when her bedroom door was halfway closed, because she couldn’t see out of her room; however, from my vantage point in the dining room, the angled mirror on the left side of the dresser afforded a rather good view of what lay behind her partially closed door.
I looked up and glanced towards her room. In the mirror, I saw that she had risen and was standing at the foot of her bed. She was wearing only bikini panties: tiny, white bikini panties. Just awakening, with tousled hair, she stood there, the sexiest vision of loveliness that I have ever seen. She had well-developed breasts, at least a 36C, and her areolae were a pinkish-brown color, each about the size of a silver dollar. As my gaze dropped to her panties, I could see a very prominent pubic mound. I immediately assumed that she had very firm and protruding labia.
From that moment forward, I felt that I was living a life scripted by Vladimir Nabokov. Miss Sarah was my enticing young Lolita and it was at that very moment that I truly fell in love with her. Yes, I know that this sounds absurd and I hesitate to commit this recollection to writing. If the wrong person reads this, I will be publicly condemned and humiliated. But, just as I fell in love with her without any conscious exercise of free will, I similarly feel compelled to express these thoughts in prose. Perhaps the writing of this story will help to free me from the demon which possesses me, my obsession with Miss Sarah.
Miss Sarah was totally unaware that I was watching her. Her mother was seated directly in front of me but fortunately still absorbed in her e-mail. My gaze continued unabated, my attention transfixed, my eyes feasting upon the delectable and innocent nakedness of Miss Sarah.
The young goddess then placed her hands on her hips and slowly pulled her panties down just low enough so that her pussy was exposed. A man with a heart condition might not have survived that moment, but my heart continued to beat ever so strong with the same virile pulse that energized my burgeoning erection.
I know that I would be flattering myself too much to think that she sensed my watchful eyes and simply wanted to lure me with a show of her most private treasures. No, the real explanation was probably much more mundane. She was likely waiting for her monthly flow to begin and was checking to see if it had started during the night. I can think of no other realistic reason why she would have pulled her panties down but, whatever the reason, I was glad for it.
Miss Sarah’s dark pubic hair was so bushy that I could not see her pussy lips at all. As I attempted to perceive her young hidden slit, she placed her right hand between her legs and cupped it so that it conformed to her body as she brought it in contact with her hairy young mound. She then removed her hand, looked at it briefly, and pulled her panties up. She reached for a bathrobe. I turned to face Gretchen, drew close to the back of her chair and began reading over her shoulder.
When Miss Sarah emerged from her bedroom, she had no idea that I had just enjoyed my first look at her forbidden nakedness. Fortunately, she also could not see the tent pole in my pants. This stirring of my manhood was taking much longer than usual to subside.
“What would it be like to have my dick inside that enticing young pussy?” I wondered as I placed my hands on her mother’s shoulders.
Months later, Gretchen and her daughter moved to Georgia because it was obvious that Gretchen and I would eventually be married. It was surrealistic, much worse that “Waiting For Godot.” It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. The simplest application of logic suggested that such a thing should not happen. It was absurd to think that I would marry this woman. But I made no effort to extricate myself from the situation. I was a prisoner of complacency, a steady customer for Gretchen’s offering – available and regular sex – even if it wasn’t great sex. Fucking Gretchen was definitely better than taking matters into my own hands and, occasionally, Gretchen gave me really good oral sex. So time continued and the entire universe stood by silently as the train wreck unfolded.
Gretchen, Miss Sarah, and I went camping just a few weeks after they had moved to Georgia. We had only one tent, so a certain amount of privacy would be compromised. We had one double sleeping bag which would be shared by Gretchen and Miss Sarah and another that would be occupied by only myself.
When we got in the tent that night, Gretchen was the first to get into her sleeping bag. We had a lantern which provided just enough light so that we could see everything inside the tent. Gretchen had changed into pajamas in the Ladies Room but Miss Sarah was still wearing the jeans and tee shirt she had been wearing during the day.
When Miss Sarah got to the point where she was ready to get in the sleeping bag, her mother was already sleeping soundly. In fact, Gretchen was making tiny little lady snores. They were just loud enough that Miss Sarah and I could hear them and we both knew exactly where the noise was coming from. The idea of her mother snoring made Miss Sarah giggle and it was a cute little laugh, in fact a seductive little laugh, a laugh that had me wanting to put my arms around her waist and hold her tightly.
Miss Sarah said something about needing to change out of her clothes and then added that she didn’t feel like walking the distance back to the Ladies Room to change. “Well, you’re gonna be part of the family soon enough,” she said. She didn’t ask me to turn and look away while she changed. She simply removed her t-shirt and jeans and stood facing me, wearing only her panties and bra.
I was glad that I was already in my sleeping bag, because as soon as I saw her panty covered mons, I had an erection. I also had an overwhelming urge to pull her panties down and bury my tongue in her pussy but, at the very same time, I wanted to bury my dick in her pussy and pound her virgin cunt until she begged me to stop.
“Don’t look,” she said coyly, but she didn’t wait for me to turn or close my eyes. She reached behind herself to release her tits from the confines of her lacy bra. As soon as the fastener was undone, she let the bra slip from her arms and she stood before me in only her panties. I had previously seen her breasts but welcomed the opportunity to become reacquainted once again with those twin pinnacles of inviting flesh, even if only from a distance.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered to her as she pulled a sleep shirt over her head, removing her lovely twin peaks from my field of vision.
“And you’re sweet. Goodnight, Ron,” she said angelically as she entered her sleeping bag.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” I replied. After 15 minutes of thinking about nothing but Miss Sarah, her panties, her tits, and all the fun I would like to have with her, it was obvious that I was not going to sleep anytime soon.
I unzipped my sleeping bag, stood up and pulled on my shorts.
“Ron, where are you going?” Miss Sarah whispered from across the tent.
“I’ve got to go pee,” I said, but that was only half of the truth. I had to go jerk off so that I could get some sleep. My mind was filled with the image of this beautiful 18 year-old girl standing just a few feet away from me, clad only in her panties, my right hand inside those panties and my middle finger alternating between the depths of her wet pussy and the thrill of rubbing her clit. I could hear her moaning as clearly as if it was real and I spurted an unusually large load of cum as my fantasy Miss Sarah had her orgasm.
* * *
I began living in the house with Gretchen and her daughter after some severe weather came through our part of the state. From that time forward, Gretchen and I had frequent and mediocre sex. She had finally gotten over her hang-up about Miss Sarah hearing us, which I had accepted as a rather common hindrance to sex for most couples with kids. We were having sex at least 3 or 4 times per week, but even with the occasional oral sex, it quickly became very monotonous.
I loved undressing Gretchen and enjoyed performing a slow seduction of her body and soul. She knew that, but she always simply undressed and got into bed naked. It was like she was saying to me, “well, here I am naked, so you might as well come fuck me and get it over with before I go to sleep.” That didn’t exactly create the mood for passionate lovemaking.
I would start sucking on one nipple and rubbing on Gretchen’s clit, mainly in broad circles, with very light pressure. Gretchen would start fondling my balls and stroking my dick. I would tell her to slow down. She would tell me to not rub her clit so hard. She would then reach for the lubricant and apply an ample amount to my shaft. Sometimes, she would also uses her fingers to apply some lube to her labia. When Gretchen started to become aroused, I would suck her nipple into my mouth and very lightly caress it with my teeth. This always took her to the next level. She would then get up “on all fours” and motion for me to get behind her. With her right hand between her legs, she would guide my dick to her ready and prepared pussy. I then would pump away to the rhythmic strains of Hot Dick And The Crotch Bumping Boogie. About 20-30 beats of that tune was usually all it took for me to release a supply of my seed into her hungry hole.
Quite often, Gretchen would orgasm at the same time as me, but her orgasm lasted much longer. I would have 6 or 7 spurts, probably 2-3 seconds apart, and then my orgasm was done. I never timed it, but it probably lasted between 12 and 20 seconds. My dick would be extremely sensitive for the next minute or so, but the orgasm was over.
She, on the other hand, would have an initial orgasm that lasted about 30 seconds. Then, the least movement or the slightest “dirty talk” from me would set her off again. If I pulled my dick back just the slightest or said something like “you’re pussy feels good,” she would begin her next orgasm and it would be every bit as long, and as strong, as the initial orgasm. Sometimes, it apparently took absolutely nothing to set her off again. She could go on with successive waves of ecstatic moans and total body orgasms for 5 minutes.
Occasionally I would slide my index finger down her spine, ever so lightly, and the feather touch would cause her to orgasm again. When this happened, I would sometimes let my finger continue to slide further, down her ass crack and it would come to rest on her asshole. If she was in the midst of an orgasm when I did this, the intensity of her muscular contractions would at least double and I would feel her pussy grabbing my dick as if it didn’t want to let go.
When she had multiple orgasms like this, her pussy would contract and squeeze my dick and I would either pull out of her pussy or get hard again. I have never done this with any other partner, but I would occasionally be able to stay hard after I came and keep thrusting into her pussy, giving her several orgasms. Eventually, she would ask me to stop because she was exhausted. I would get a big grin on my face, like I was the king stud in this town. Maybe that’s part of why I kept hanging around for more with Gretchen.
At times, I was distracted and I knew that I would need stronger stimulation to bring me to the point of orgasm. On these occasions, I often thought about my Miss Sarah. I thought about kissing her lips. I thought about sucking on her nipples. I thought about playing with her cute ass. But most of all, I thought about having my dick in her pussy and thrusting until we both collapsed in a musky heap of orgasmic sweat and virgin pussy juice. These fantasies would always bring me to an orgasm.
* * *
With the schedules that we all had for work and school, I was often the last one to leave the house in the mornings. One morning, I passed by Miss Sarah’s bedroom and the door was open. Despite my tremendous adoration for her, I certainly knew that the girl was not perfect. One of her faults was that she was very much a slob in the housekeeping of her bedroom. This day was no exception. She had dirty clothes strewn about her floor.
I noticed a pair of her panties on the floor, crumpled up, obviously already worn, and waiting to be taken to the laundry. I looked out in the driveway to make sure that no one had returned home and then I entered the bedroom.
I picked up the panties and held them in my hands. They were like gold coins to an explorer. I felt the fabric. I looked in the crotch of the panties and there was a slight damp stain in the panties. These must be the panties she was wearing last night, I thought. I held them to my nose and inhaled. What a deep, rich, earthy aroma was exuded from this skimpy cotton garment. I fantasized that she had been wearing these panties while she masturbated and the dampness was her female juice captured by the fabric. I licked the crotch of her panties and it tasted salty. I buried my nose in the panties again, savoring the aroma. This smelled nothing like Gretchen. This was truly an elixir, a smell that would set any man’s loins on fire. I returned the panties to the floor, careful to approximate the position of the panties so that my intrusion would go unnoticed
Over the next year, I probably entered Miss Sarah’s bedroom a hundred times for the sole purpose of sniffing her panties. Yes, I know that the last sentence sums it up rather well: what a pathetic and extremely perverted thing to do. Well, and if that’s what you think, you’re right. I knew how sad and pathetic it was at the time I was doing it, but I couldn’t stop. I was obsessed. I was possessed.
About a year after Gretchen and Sarah moved to Georgia, Gretchen and I got married. Even after we were married, I continued to crave the smell of Miss Sarah’s panties and I continued to peruse her dirty laundry regularly for fragrant undies.
It was like an addiction. I needed to smell her panties, I needed to know how it would smell to have my face near her heavenly slit. I did what was necessary to satisfy that need. Was this what a Southern gentleman would do? Absolutely not! Was I ashamed of myself every time I did it? Absolutely! Did the shame ever deter me from my obsession? Not once!
I don’t know if my frequent intrusions went unnoticed but nothing was ever said on the subject.
* * *
After living in the house for about a year, I noticed that the bathroom door had a sizeable crack at the bottom. It occurred to me that perhaps if I laid on the floor, I could look under the door and see into the bathroom. As soon as I was left alone in the house, I tried it but all I could see was the bathroom floor. Maybe a mirror would help me to see under the door and into the bathroom.
I found a small mirror, closed the bathroom door, and rested the mirror at an angle on the floor at the bottom of the door. Voile! I could see the bottom 5 feet of the door at the opposite end of the bathroom. I was concerned that perhaps the mirror would be visible to anyone, like Miss Sarah, who was in the bathroom so I left the mirror propped up in place and entered the bathroom via the other door. When I looked at where I knew the mirror to be, it was not visible. I immediately knew what would happen next.
Gretchen was frequently gone in the afternoons and early evenings and this was when Miss Sarah would usually take a shower. The next time we were alone, Miss Sarah announced that she was going to take a shower and I very nonchalantly said, “Okay, honey.”
If I tried to use the mirror to watch her as she undressed in the bathroom, I faced the possibility that she might realize she had forgotten something in her bedroom and would then open the bathroom door to find me kneeling there with a mirror in hand. Obviously, that would be disastrous and I had to be more careful than that. I grabbed the mirror but waited for her to begin and then finish her shower. I would take my look as she was exiting the bathtub.
I am sure that she stayed in the shower at least 30 minutes that night, as if she knew I was waiting and wanted to torture me with the agony of waiting almost forever for what I hoped would be a wonderful sight. Finally, I heard her turn off the water and I knelt at the door with mirror positioned. I was soon rewarded.
She exited the bathtub and stood facing the door, drying her hair. I could very clearly see her pussy and boobs. I had already seen her boobs but the view of her pussy was a new sight. She had shaved her pubic hair and her pussy looked like it belonged on a little girl. It was so very cute! Contrary to my assumptions, she did not have protruding labia like her mother. No, she had a very simple slit between two very full outer lips.
I certainly wanted to fling that door open and run to her so that I could bury my tongue in her pussy but, of course, I did not do that. She stopped drying her hair and started walking towards the door. I moved as quickly as I have ever moved in my life, returning to the kitchen within 2 seconds and putting the mirror back where I had found it.
Miss Sarah stayed in the bathroom for another 5 minutes. When she walked out, she had the towel wrapped around her body so that it covered her boobs and it hung just low enough to cover her pussy and ass as she walked the few steps to her bedroom. Maybe she didn’t realize how her behavior was teasing me but my balls ached for release. I probably used the mirror-at-the-bathroom-door trick another 15 to 20 times over the next year and masturbated afterwards at least 15 of those times.
* * *
Gretchen went to Ohio to visit friends for several weeks during the particularly hot summer after Miss Sarah had finally graduated from high school, leaving her and me together without adequate adult supervision. The first Saturday that Gretchen was gone, I told Miss Sarah that I was going out to the pool. I asked if she would join me to give me some pointers on swimming, since she is an excellent swimmer and I am, at best, an excellent sinker. She agreed and went to her room to change into her bikini.
I always thought that the girl looked particularly hot in a bikini and my dick certainly agreed. I was already in the water when she came out to the pool. I had an instant erection, of course. She got in the water and said, “Okay. Let’s work on you floating.”
With that, she got in the water and she looked even sexier when she was wet. Mr. Boing went from 9.9 steel to 10.0 case-hardened steel. Miss Sarah walked over to me, placed one hand behind my back and the other behind my knees, sweeping me up so that I had no choice but to float. It was quite obvious that I had a tent pole in my swim suit and I saw her carefully checking it out but she didn’t say a word and, eventually, it subsided.
When we were finished, I went inside to change. Gretchen and I almost never closed our bedroom door when we were changing. Miss Sarah was the only other person in the house and she never came into our bedroom without knocking or announcing that she needed to enter the room. So, by habit, I didn’t close the bedroom door. I removed all of my clothes, dried myself, and pulled on my whitey-tighties.
“Ron, can we . . .,” said a familiar female voice that was much closer than I expected it to be.
I looked up and Miss Sarah was standing just a few feet away, watching, her mouth left slightly open as she paused mid-sentence. She was still in her wet bikini, looking like the ultimate queen of all desirable teenage virgins. I don’t know how long she had been standing there but the thought of her seeing me naked got me instantly hard again and, this time, she was not discreet in observing my state of arousal.
“. . . go out for dinner tonight?” She got a smile on her face. “That is, if you can get your pants on.” With that comment, she turned and walked out of the room.
As soon as I got dressed, I went to find her so I could ask about how long she had been looking at me. I didn’t know if she would mention this to her mother and thought that it would be better if I addressed this with her first rather than simply waiting to see what, if anything, might happen.
Her bedroom door was open and the light was on so I assumed she was in her bedroom. I stopped in the doorway and saw her standing at her closet, looking through her wardrobe. She had removed her bikini top but was still wearing her bikini bottoms. “Dear . . .,” I began.
She turned and faced me, making no effort to cover her tits. The sight of those nipples had me hard again and I didn’t need to look to know that my pants were tenting once again. Damn this was frustrating!
She waited a moment for me to finish my sentence but I didn’t. I couldn’t. She said “I’m not sure but I think I’m going to wear my green shorts today. Do you think I should wear my dark green panties or my light green thong?”
That question just made matters worse for me. “I’m color-blind, so I don’t care if you wear any panties at all,” I said, realizing as soon as the words left my lips that this sentence made no sense whatsoever. I turned and left her room, finding my way back to my bathroom so I could relieve my problem. As soon as I got to my bedroom, I removed my pants and undies. Again, I didn’t bother to close the bedroom door or the door into the master bathroom. At this point, I didn’t care whether she came in and watched. I just started stroking my rod and it didn’t take long before I was shooting out jets of cum, my eyes closed, lost in fantasies about my mouth and her tits.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, while her mother was still in Ohio, Miss Sarah began walking around the house in just her panties and bra. Sometimes, she would wear just her panties and a short silk robe that she left untied. It hung over her boobs so that her nipples weren’t exposed unless she bent over, turned around quickly, or sat down so that the robe gaped open. Her panties were usually very form fitting and, now that she apparently shaved her pubic hair, the crotch of her panties followed the contours of that delightful pussy so that she had an obvious camel toe.
I figured that what was good for the goose would be good for the gander. I began to change out of all my clothes except my undies fairly early in the evening and put on a robe that I, too, left untied. I walked into the family room and sat down to watch TV. I reclined on my side and positioned my legs so that they were in a “frog” position, feet touching, knees apart with legs at an angle to each other. My crotch would be very clearly exposed if Miss Sarah sat down next to me.
Within a few minutes, she walked into the family room and asked what I was watching. I have no idea what I was watching but she pretended to be interested and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. By taking this position, it almost looked innocent and natural that she would sit down facing me rather than the TV. Initially, she turned her head so that she was, indeed, watching what was on the TV. I was watching her through my peripheral vision and I soon noticed her checking me out yet again.
My awareness of her looking at my undies caused my dick to start twitching. As soon as she saw some movement in my underwear, her gaze became even more intent and her eyes widened slightly. Excellent, I thought. She’s turned on by this, too.
Less than a minute later, Miss Sarah said that she was going to bed and she got up and walked to her room. I heard the bedroom door shut and I immediately thought that was peculiar because she always slept with her door open. I could also see light coming under the door from within her bedroom so I knew she wasn’t in bed. The sound on the TV was turned down so the house was very quiet.
As I stood at her bedroom door, I listened and heard a humming noise. About 30 seconds later, I heard her beginning to moan. She was in her bedroom using a vibrator to masturbate!
I was immediately filled with such an intense sexual rush. My little Miss Sarah was in her bedroom masturbating. She was using a vibrator and I didn’t even know that she owned one. She was masturbating immediately after watching my dick twitch. While masturbating, she was probably fantasizing about my dick. She wanted my dick.
I knew then that I wanted to fuck her. I didn’t care that it was wrong. I didn’t care what would happen to me afterwards. I just wanted to shoot my cum into that shaved little pussy.
Miss Sarah did not lack intelligence but she did lack any sense of dedication to her education. Despite her constant assurances that she was doing well in school, her report cards told a different story. At the midpoint of her senior year in high school, whether she would actually get the grades to graduate on schedule was in doubt.
Having always done well in school, I could not understand why she seemed so unconcerned about her poor school performance. It was if she was living in a dream world, talking about going to college and becoming a veterinarian while, in reality, she was having difficulty with her basic high school curriculum. I was desperate to do whatever I could to motivate her for a relatively strong finish, at least strong enough to get her diploma in June.
During Christmas break, I approached her with an offer. “Listen, Sweetie, I know you don’t want to talk about this but I’m not so sure that you’re going to have the grades to graduate this spring. And I’m sure you don’t want to be celebrating your 20th birthday while you’re still in high school. So, what’s it gonna take to get you motivated?”
“Gee, do we have to talk about this now?” she asked. Obviously, she wanted to postpone this conversation and reschedule it for the 12th of Never.
“No, I guess we could wait and talk about it in August while we’re shopping for school supplies for one more year at Chatham High. Or . . .”
“Do you have to be so sarcastic?” she complained.
“Yes I do. Do you have to be so damned lazy about school?” As soon as I said this, I realized that this conversation needed to change directions or it was going to be totally unproductive. “Okay, I’m gonna try something different here. I don’t think that you would resent a bribe, if it’s a good enough bribe, so how about this? If you graduate this spring, I’ll take you and your mom on a one week Caribbean cruise. Do you think that could get you motivated?”
She looked directly at me and maintained eye contact for what seemed like hours. “Do you really mean that?”
“No, I just said it to keep up my reputation as a lying pig! Of course I mean it. I’ve never lied to you, not once, not ever. Graduate and we’ll go on that cruise, but that means graduate this year, not next year. Can you do that?”
“Just you wait and see,” she replied with a gleam in her eye.
* * *
Three months later, my marriage with Gretchen had fallen apart. We were like two strangers living in the same house. I spent my nights on the sofa. Sex was something that I now did only with my hand; sex with my wife had not occurred in months. Gretchen was like a 14 year-old kid who wanted freedoms without responsibilities. She didn’t contribute any money to the household expenses, she rarely cooked, and she was an awful housekeeper. If she had fucked like a horny 18 year-old girl, I probably would have tolerated the rest of her crap for a very long time. But, when we did have sex, it was more of that formula sex with a somewhat smelly pussy and a lousy attitude. I knew it was only a matter of time before we would file for a divorce.
In the meanwhile, Miss Sarah had started to withdraw from me. I suppose that she sensed the impending breakup of the marriage and she had the good sense to know that she really had no choice about with whom she would cast her lot.
It was never a question in my mind. I knew that a divorce meant that I would also lose my precious, sweet Miss Sarah, the wonderful young girl who also happened to be the object of my unrelenting passion and lust. To avoid the trauma of a sudden loss of my time and affections, she had initiated a gradual withdrawal from my life; it was not hostile, but it was very deliberate, and it hurt. It hurt more than the failure of my marriage.
Gretchen filed for the divorce and it proceeded rather quickly. It had been a brief marriage and we had not accumulated much to divide. Gretchen was an unreasonable brat and initially thought she should get alimony just because it would make her life easier. Fortunately, her attorney explained that “wouldn’t-it-be-nice” was not a legal justification for alimony and it was very rare for alimony to be awarded after a marriage of less than two years. After that non-issue was resolved, the divorce happened very quickly.
We had separated in March and the divorce was final by the middle of April. I had not heard from Miss Sarah since the separation and was hoping that we might re-open our communication after the divorce was final. Of course, it all depended on Gretchen not acting like a venomous and vindictive snake, so I really had no confidence that it would ever occur, until . . ..
It was May 12, a Thursday, about 3:30 in the afternoon. I was in the office when my secretary put a call through to me. I yelled to remind her that I did not want to be disturbed, but she told me in her mother-knows-best voice that I needed to take this call.
“Hello, this is Ron Wilson. Can I help you?” I always answered the telephone at the office with the same introduction.
“Ron, this is Sarah. Do you have time for us to talk now?” she asked.
“Of course, sweetie. Just give me a minute to get up and close my office door. You know my secretary likes to listen in whenever I have a personal call.” I made a silly face at my secretary as I closed the door.
“I’m so glad you called, sweetie. I’ve thought about you every day since your Mom and I separated.” I dare not explain to her exactly what I had been thinking or what I had been doing to myself when I was thinking about her.
“I’ve thought about you a lot, too,” Sarah said. I don’t know if it was true but, if not, it was sweet of her to lie about it.
“Well, I’m not sure why you’re calling but I’m glad you did. I’d love to see you sometime soon.” I certainly wanted to see my little angel.
“Well, I’m free for dinner tonight,” she offered in her sweet voice that was usually reserved for times when she was trolling for favors.
“Yeah, that sounds great. I probably shouldn’t come over and pick you up so why don’t you meet me at Luigi’s around 7:00?” She loved Luigi’s and I knew it.
“Can we get the pizza special?” she asked, sounding like a kid.
“You bet, sweetie. See you there at 7:00.”
I worked until 6:30 and then headed straight for Luigi’s. I got there about ten minutes early and Miss Sarah was already there, waiting in the lobby.
When she looked up and saw me walking in, she got such a big smile on her face. Seeing that smile really warmed my soul. It was definitely the best medicine I had received in a long time.
Miss Sarah jumped up and ran to me, placing her arms around me and giving me a nice, big hug before she planted a kiss on my cheek.
“It’s been too long,” she said, now sounding much more like an adult.
“Yeah, but you’re just as beautiful as I remember you,” I said.
We quickly got seated and ordered our pizza. Our drinks arrived and I soon learned what had prompted this meeting.
“Ron, I have some great news, some bad news, and some good news,” she said. “The great news is that I had my last final two days ago and I got the results today, right before I called you. I passed all my courses and I’m graduating next week.” She was all smiles and her face could have lit up the dark side of the moon.
“Oh, baby, that’s great. I knew you could do it,” I said. I leaned over to her and gave her a hug. As we were still embraced, I whispered in her ear, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Now, what’s the bad news?” I asked.
“Well, you know that Mom’s been kind of mental the past few months . . .,” she began.
“Actually, much longer than that,” I interjected.
“. . . and it wouldn’t be such a great idea for you to actually attend the graduation. I’m sorry, you know, but she’s my Mom.”
‘Poor Sarah,’ I thought to myself, ‘thinking that she needs to explain this.’
“Oh, no, honey,” I said, “I understand this absolutely and, yes, she is your mother and she just absolutely has to be there, so I guess I’ll miss it. I’ll hate it but it’s the only right thing to do. I wish there was something else we could do to celebrate your graduation.”
“Well, actually, there is. Do you remember back in December, you promised to take Mom and me on a cruise if I graduated?”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think your Mom and I are going anywhere.” Holy cow, what a fiasco that would be!
“No, silly! Of course you and Mom aren’t going anywhere. But you can still take me on a cruise. You do still love me, don’t you?” She batted her eyelashes and gave me the puppy dog eyes. She was a skillful little tease but we both knew that she was just messing with me; still, it was a very effective female maneuver.
“Miss Sarah, I love you more than anyone else in the whole world. But, I doubt your momma would let you go on a cruise with me.” I immediately loved the idea of Miss Sarah and me together for a week but I didn’t think her mother would ever approve of the idea. Legally, Miss Sarah was no longer a minor and she didn’t need her mother’s permission to do anything, but she still lived with her mother so she really didn’t have too much freedom.
“Oh, I’ve already got that covered. As soon as I got the news about graduating, I reminded Mom about your promise. The first thing she said was that if she got you alone in a cruise ship cabin, she’d do a Lorena Bobbitt to you. ‘I don’t ever want to see that son of a bitch again.’ She’s still kind of worked up over the divorce, you know.”
“Yeah, that much I know for sure,” I explained.
“The next thing she said is ‘that cheap son of a bitch isn’t gonna keep his promise to you. But if he’ll agree to take you, go for it. And, as soon as you get on that boat, charge at least $1,000 of merchandise to the room number. He won’t know about it until he’s checking out. Get every thing you can out of him while you can ’cause he’s no damn good.'” It obviously pained Miss Sarah to repeat the details of this conversation but I assume that she wanted to convince me that the road was clear for us to take a trip together.
“Sweetie, I’d love to take you on a cruise, but, are you sure that you want to spend a week with me on a cruise ship where you don’t know anyone else?” I know the idea sounded exciting, at least to me, but I wasn’t sure that she had really thought it through.
“Ron, this is what I thought about every day while I was working on that stupid school work so I could graduate. And even after it was obvious that you guys were gonna divorce, I was still hoping you’d keep your promise. You’d better believe I wanna go.” She was quite convincing.
“What week do you wanna go?” I asked.
With the realization that this cruise was really going to happen, she shrieked with excitement. Everyone in the restaurant was turning to look but she was oblivious as she put her arms around my neck and gave me another kiss on the cheek.
The hugs and kisses on the cheek were nice but I was hoping that it would get much better when we were finally alone.
* * *
I told Miss Sarah what weeks I could travel and what the budget was for the cruise fare. As long as she kept within those parameters, she was free to book any cruise that she wanted. Entrusting her with that much responsibility was flattering to her, as she felt like she was being treated like an adult and that was a rare experience for her.
After tormenting herself with the range of possibilities, she finally booked a week-long cruise in the eastern Caribbean on a major cruise line. It was the kind of cruise that I would have probably selected. When she called to tell me the details, I complimented her on her selection.
“Sweetie, that’s a wonderful choice,” I said. “You really are growing up, aren’t you?” It was a rhetorical question but she replied anyway.
“You know, actually, I’m growing up in many ways but I don’t think too many adults realize that, yet,” she lamented. “This cruise will give me more of a chance to show that I’m becoming an adult. You know,” she continued, “we’ll being sharing a cabin for a week. Are you okay with that?”
“What d’ya mean?” I asked. I thought I knew what she meant but I wanted to hear her say it.
“Well, you know, those cabins aren’t very big and Kelly says the bathrooms are definitely too small to get dressed in, so it’s not like there gonna be much privacy. That’s not gonna freak you out, is it?” she asked.
‘Freak me out?’ I thought to myself. ‘What an absolute dream come true!’
“Well, honey, we have seen each other without much in the way of clothes, but it’s been awhile. I really hadn’t thought about that.” I usually don’t lie but this was all I had thought about for the past several weeks. “I’m not sure how it would feel and I’d hate to get out on the boat and find out that it’s too much for us to handle. We’d be in a tough fix, then.”
“Well, how about if we have a practice at your apartment? I can come spend the weekend and we’ll act just like we’re in the cabin on the ship and you’ll see it’s fine,” she assured me.
“Yeah, but your momma ain’t gonna let you spend the weekend with me,” I said. I didn’t want to sound too eager about this plan.
“No problem. Mom’s going out of town this weekend, leaving Friday morning and not coming back ’til Sunday night. She’ll never know.” Miss Sarah thought quick on her feet, for sure.
“Well, I’m not encouraging you to lie to your Momma, but I’m not getting in the middle of it, either. So, if you show up at my apartment on Friday, I won’t turn you away.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll be there about 5:30. And you’d better take me out to eat somewhere nice Friday night.” We both understand that her directive was really a request and we both knew that I would do whatever I could to make her happy, so of course we’d be going out somewhere nice to eat Friday night.
* * *
Miss Sarah appeared at my front door very promptly at 5:30 Friday afternoon. I had just gotten home from work and had only had time to peruse the day’s assortment of junk mail and bills.
I carried her suitcase into my bedroom and she followed me. “Where are we going to eat tonight?” she asked, making it very obvious that she remembered my implicit promise.
“I thought we’d go to that new bistro over in Ripley Hills,” I said. “But, I need to take a shower and change clothes first.”
“Me, too,” she replied. “I’ll get in the shower first.”
With that statement, she stood up and began removing her clothes. My head tried to tell me that I shouldn’t be openly staring at her but my brain had absolutely no control over my body at that point. She pulled her shirt over her head and revealed that she was wearing a very feminine off-white bra. Without missing a beat, she unzipped her jeans and pushed the waist down past her hip, past her knees, and she then stepped out of her pants. She was wearing a matching off-white thong. Her ass was a beautiful sight; it looked so firm and toned, I wanted to grab both cheeks and squeeze.
She then reached behind her shoulders to unfasten her bra. She spent only a few seconds fumbling with it before she asked me to help.
“Ron, can you unfasten this for me?” she asked, knowing beyond doubt that I would.
I stood behind her and placed my right hand under the bra strap, grasping one side near the fastener. I used my let hand to unhook the bra and I allowed the backs of my fingers to graze and linger on the soft, seductive flesh of her back. I moaned very softly as I enjoyed the pleasure of her warm, naked flesh.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she said as she turned her head to look back at me. At the same time, she allowed her bra to fall to the floor. In one swift, fluid motion, she leaned forward and pulled her thong down. As the thong reached her ankles, it occurred to me that the position we were in would be perfect for me to enter her from the rear. The thought of having my dick in her pussy from behind while I felt the skin of her butt against my pelvis had me heard in an instant.
She momentarily ignored me as completely as if I were not present. She walked straight forward towards the shower and then turned as she reached the shower door. Her shaved pussy was now fully exposed to me, if only at a distance, and my dick was straining against my pants. What an absolute vision of heaven. This was my first authorized, non-surreptitious view of Miss Sarah’s naked body and she was beautiful beyond words. Miss Sarah stared at my erection in hiding.
“I don’t think this is gonna be a problem for me,” she said as she stared at my crotch, “but we’ll have to see if that’s gonna be a problem for you,” she continued, nodding towards my obvious boner. She then giggled and got in the shower stall. The glass was opaque so her form was obscured and I could not discern any details of the naked female in the shower. However, the mental image was stuck in my mind as if it had been burned there by a laser.
“Ron, why don’t you shave while I’m finishing my shower?” she suggested. Perhaps that would get my mind off of her nubile womanhood.
Miss Sarah turned off the water and grabbed a towel so she could dry her body before leaving the shower. When the shower door finally opened, she emerged with the towel wrapped around her body, concealing her tits and her pussy.
“Okay. Get those clothes off and get in the shower,” Miss Sarah tried to direct me. It sounded as if she was eager to finally see me naked.
I had already removed my shirt before I shaved. I quickly had my pants off and I was now covered only by my boxers. My erection was quite obvious to Miss Sarah.
“You’re kind of excited about all this, aren’t you?” she asked in a little girl teasing voice. I thought she might be entertaining the idea that she was in control, like leading a greyhound around the track with the elusive promise of a rabbit. And, I’ll admit, looking at her naked body was quite an incentive for me to do almost anything.
“Turn around,” I ordered her. She got a look on her face that suggested that she wanted to complain but, instead, she complied with my command.
I pulled down my boxers so that I was now completely naked. I walked over to Miss Sarah and stood behind her so that her back was just inches from my body. I reached down and lifted the towel that was obscuring her ass and then I pressed my body against hers. My dick pushed against her ass cleavage and I placed my hands on her hips.
The teasing was to much for me and I needed to take this game to the next level. Leaning my head forward slightly, I whispered in her ear. “It’s quite obvious I’m excited about this.” I reached down and pulled her cheeks apart so that my dick would push even farther into her butt crack. “I’ll bet that you’re excited, too, but I wouldn’t know unless I pulled that towel away to see if your nipples are hard . . . I’ll bet they are . . . or if I stuck a finger in your pussy to see how wet you are . . . and I’ll bet you’re wet, aren’t you?”
I reached around with both hands and grabbed both boobs. Even though she was wearing a towel, I could feel that both nipples were erect. “Now, you get ready while I take a shower and we’ll talk some more bout your tits and pussy later tonight.” With that statement, I release my hold on her body, turned around, and walked straight into the shower. It felt good to assume some control over the situation and it also felt good that she didn’t reject the physical contact with me.
I was so horny I wanted to immediately jack off when I got under the warm water but I thought I should reserve all my male fluids for whatever might happen later in the evening. When I got out of the shower, Miss Sarah was not in the bedroom. I wasn’t sure what to make of that but I proceeded to get dressed.
When I walked out into the living room, Miss Sarah was seated on the sofa. She was wearing a form fitting silky red sleeveless dress that was long enough to cover her panties and a few inches of skin immediately south of her panties, but it didn’t cover much else. If she had been a skanky-looking girl, it might have looked like a slutty dress but, with her youthful innocence, it just looked damned sexy and provocative.
“Wow, you look like you’re ready for a hot date tonight!” I said with some emphasis.
“I am,” she immediately replied, “. . . with you.” Her smile was more effective than any surgeon’s knife; it immediately reached my heart and began to melt me.
We went to a moderately upscale New Orleans-style restaurant. After a while, I stopped noticing, but I think every man who saw Miss Sarah turned to stare at her, followed by a jealous grin directed at me. I certainly felt like the king of the world on this particular evening in paradise.
As we were waiting for a table, I leaned over to Miss Sarah and whispered, “you look so incredible in that dress. Every man in this restaurant is wishing that he was going home with you tonight.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” she said, “because I’m going home with you.” She looked at me with her big eyes and smiled. At that moment, she could have asked me for my heart, lungs, and liver and I would have given them to her in an instant.
When we were seated, we were placed at a table that had bench seating on one side and chairs on the opposite side of the table. Miss Sarah asked if we could sit on the bench seating and, of course, I agreed. As soon as I was seated, she moved closer so that her thigh was against my thigh and she reached under my arm to rest her hand on the inside of my elbow.
“I’ve never been here before and I’m a little nervous,” she quietly said to me. “I don’t want to do anything to embarrass you.”
“Oh, honey, even if you came in here on roller skates, I’d be the proudest man in the room. You’ve really turned into a woman.” I meant every word that I was said to her.
“Can you help me with the menu? And can we have a bottle of wine?” I would do anything to make this little girl happy, so of course I agreed.
The meal was wonderful, the first bottle of wine was good, and the second bottle must have been even better, because Miss Sarah drank at least four glasses.
At the end of the meal, I stood and offered my hand to her to help her up. As she stood, she started to lose her balance but quickly recovered. “I haven’t had that much wine to drink before,” she explained, but I had already guessed as much.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Just walk close to me, hang on to my arm, and we’ll be home soon.” I may have had a terminal case of the hots for this nubile young vixen but I also had paternally protective feelings as well.
When we got home, Miss Sarah was still having a few problems with walking. Four glasses of wine shouldn’t have had such a pronounced effect on her but she was a very inexperienced drinker. We got in the apartment and into the bedroom. She immediately laid down on the bed with her feet hanging over the edge.
“Sweetie, you can’t go to sleep, yet,” I said. “You need to get out of those clothes and get ready for bed.”
“Can you help me?” she asked.
What kind of a question was this? Let’s see; would I be willing to undress a young goddess so she could sleep in my bed tonight? It wasn’t too difficult to answer her.
“Sure,” I replied. I got her sitting up and reached behind her to unfasten and unzip her dress. “You’ve got to stand up for me to take it off,” I said.
“You’re the boss,” she murmured.
With some assistance, she stood up and I quickly had the dress down around her ankles. She was wearing panties and a bra but, fortunately, no slip. I reached behind her, unfastened the bra, and quickly removed it and tossed it to the floor. She was now covered by only her red bikini panties.
“Ron, I need to pee. Can you help me to the bathroom?”
She leaned on me and we walked into the bathroom. She started to sit on the toilet without pulling her panties down.
“Hey, don’t we need to pull your panties down first?” I asked.
She smiled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked rhetorically and slightly slurred. “Yeah, just take ’em off. I usually sleep nude anyway.”
I pulled her panties down to her ankles and she sat down. She lifted her feet and I picked up her panties. I looked at her panties in my hand and then I looked straight into her eyes.
“You can’t imagine how fucking horny I am,” I said as I lifted her panties to my face and buried my nose in them. The musky scent of her delightful pussy was pungent and unmistakable and I realized that the crotch of her panties were quite damp.
“Why, Miss Sarah, did you pee in your pants before you got to the bathroom?” I teased her.
“Ron, I’m not a little girl anymore and I don’t do such things. If a big girl’s panties are damp, it usually means her pussy is wet because she’s horny.”
Hearing her say “panties” and “pussy” got me aroused even more. “Why, Miss Sarah, are you feeling horny tonight?” I continued in my teasing voice.
Miss Sarah wiggled her index finger to call me closer to her. I got close enough that I could feel her nipples against my chest as she whispered, “I’ve been horny for you ever since that night in the tent.”
“Me, too,” I whispered to her. “This is a tough situation and I don’t know where we can go with it, but we have tonight,” I said. I pulled off a piece of toilet paper, folded it, and very gently wiped her pussy lips. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied.
I led Miss Sarah back to the bed and pulled down the covers. She laid down while I quickly undressed. When I pulled down my boxers, Miss Sarah said, “wow! That’s quite a monster you have.”
“He’s not a monster,” I said in defense of the member. “He’s a gentleman and he wants to please a lady.”
“He can please me, for sure, but, you’ll be easy with me, won’t you?” she asked with apparently sincere concern.
“Miss Sarah, are you . . . a . . . virgin?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said timidly, “but not much longer. Ron, I want you to be the one.”
I laid down and placed my lips against hers. She immediately parted her lips and began exploring my lips with her tongue. I opened my lips and soon we were exploring the beginnings of our passion.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I said with obvious longing in my voice.
“And you don’t know how many times I fantasized about you when I got off with my vibrator,” she responded. The mental image of my little girl with a vibrator in her pussy made my dick as hard as steel.
I lifted my right hand and placed it on her left breast, grasping my fingers firmly at the base of her breast and closing my grasp as I moved my hand towards her nipple. As I continued this, the first little moan escaped from her lips. I then grabbed her nipple between my thumb and index finger and began kneading it. Her nipple was incredibly firm and I just had to have a nipple in my mouth.
I pulled my head away from hers and leaned down so that I could take her right nipple in my mouth. As I did so, I began licking her nipple while sucking it into my mouth and then releasing it, causing her nipple to thrust in and out between my teeth.
She gasped. “Oh, fuck, that feels good,” she declared. “I want you in me!”
“Not yet, sweetie,” I responded. I released her nipple from my right hand. I slowly — and very lightly — dragged my fingertips down her chest to her belly button, where I stopped to visit for a moment. I then resumed the tortuously slow travel southward.
As my fingertips reached within 3 inches of her waiting pussy, I began to flex my hand so that my fingers spread out and then drew back in. As my fingers drew closer together, I lessened the pressure on her skin so that it felt like she was being caressed with feathers.
“Do you want me to put my fingers in your pussy?” I asked. Of course I knew that was what she wanted.
“Oh, yes!” she insisted.
“Them tell me what you want. Don’t just say yes or no. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I want to feel your fingers inside my pussy right now, Ron.”
I eagerly complied, parting her pussy lips and entering her with my middle and fourth fingers.
“You’re so wet, Sarah! I know you’re gonna cum soon.”
My hand was turned with the palm facing up. I began making that “come here” motion with my fingers. This always seem to find the g-spot and tonight was no exception.
“Oh, gawd, Ron, that’s so damn good. Don’t stop,” she told me. I had no intentions of stopping.
“Ooh, ooh, ahh, that’s . . . so . . .good!” she uttered and then she started moaning. I have heard quite a few women moan during sex. Miss Sarah was one of the more vociferous moaners I have ever encountered, much to my delight. Her moans were loud and frequent and I knew she would soon be cumming.
I bent down so that my mouth was on her abdomen just inches from her pussy. I wrapped my left hand around her leg and reached up to find her clit. I used my index and third fingers to play the fiddle in the middle. I alternated between stroking up and down on both sides of her clit and using my index finger to trace light circles around the little button.
With this type of ministration on her cunt, she was very quickly cumming. “Oh, gawd, Ron, my pussy feels . . . so . . . oh, gawd, don’t stop, I’m cumming.” Her body alternated between waves of absolute muscular tension and relaxation. Her thighs pressed inward tightly and her moans continued in undiminished paroxysms. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her right hand had latched onto the hair on my head and I had to pry her fingers away for fear that she would pull my hair out. I had stopped stimulating her g-spot and clit but resumed for just a few seconds before I withdrew my fingers from her sweet snatch. This elicited a few moans of renewed passion before I stopped.
“Honey, catch your breath, because I’m gonna stick my tongue in your pussy in just a minute and then you’re gonna cum even harder than before.”
“Oh, fuck,” was all she could manage to say.
“We’ll get around to that, too,” I replied. The night was still young.
I turned around in bed so that I could comfortably access Miss Sarah’s sweet snatch. I rested my head on the inside of her right thigh and stared at her shaved pussy. “You have the cutest little pussy that I’ve ever seen,” I said. “Does it taste as sweet as it looks?”
“I don’t know, I’m a virgin, but I did have oral sex a few times and the guys never said anything bad about it,” she said.
“I’m sure those lucky rascals never complained, sweetie,” I replied. “Did you ever have an orgasm from the oral sex?”
“No, it was only like three times, and, we were doing that 69 thing each time. The guys came so fast and then they stopped, like, they got what they wanted so why should they continue. It really wasn’t all that wonderful compared to how other girls talk about getting their pussies eaten out.”
“Well, that’s the problem with younger guys. Their just into themselves. But tonight, you’re gonna cum when my tongue gets on your clit.”
“Promises, promises,” Miss Sarah said, almost as if daring me to launch in.
So I did.
As soon as those words left her lips, I leaned forward and my lips made contact with Miss Sarah’s pussy lips. They were very cleanly shaven, no stubble, as if she had prepared for this evening. And I was glad that she had. I pushed my tongue into her slit and moved from the top to the bottom of her cunt. She tasted like perspiration that had been sweetened with just enough honey to give it a suggestion of sweetness. She was wet. I could taste her wetness. I could feel her wetness with my tongue. I could smell her odor. And it all made my dick want to get fucked now.
But I needed to make Miss Sarah cum with my tongue. I brought my tongue up to her clit and pressed on it gently. Then I began swirling my tongue in circles around her button of delight. Meanwhile, I returned my middle and fourth fingers to their previous position, stimulating the g-spot, but I also began thrusting my fingers in and out of her slippery woman hole.
Meanwhile, I found her clit with my lips and sucked on it so that it was pulled between my teeth. I began sucking and releasing, sucking and releasing, so that her clit was thrusting between my teeth.
Miss Sarah’s moans had grown louder and longer. “Oh . . . fuck me . . . Ron . . . I wanna cum . . . with your tongue . . . in my pussy.” When I heard these words, I knew it was time to make the final assault on the citadel of her composure. It was time to release the hounds of raw animal passion and fiery hormones pulsing through the veins of a beast.
I wrapped my left hand around Miss Sarah’s ass and began stroking up and down her ass crack while thrusting the fingers of my other hand in and out of her pussy and fucking her clit with my lips.
“Oh . . . honey . . . that’s so damn . . . nasty . . . Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” As she said that her thighs squeezed together, pressing on my skull, holding my head firmly in place so that I could continue to suck her clit between my lips. My left index finger found Miss Sarah’s puckered little back door and I pushed in so that my finger was buried up to the first knuckle. As soon as I penetrated her rear hole, her body went as stiff as a 2 x 4 and her breathing became very rapid and shallow.
“Don’t stop!” she commanded, and then she began screaming as if she was in pain, but I knew it was the pain that hurts so good.
“No, no, okay, stop now!” she said. Obviously, she had been wracked by a tremendous orgasm and she now had a very heightened sensitivity in her clit. I stopped licking and slowly stopped thrusting my fingers in her pussy. I left my finger in her ass and just pressed slightly to the side as her orgasm began to subside and that little motion immediately translated into a gasp and slightly louder moan.
I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and ass and turned back around in bed so that I was face-to-face with Miss Sarah.
“Did you enjoy your orgasm, Miss Sarah?” I politely inquired.
“Oh, fuck, I’ve never cum so fucking hard in my entire life!” I could hear the appreciation in her voice.
“Miss Sarah, that is the way an orgasm is supposed to be. They’re not always that strong, but you should have one every time you have sex.”
“Oh, I know I’ll have one very time I have sex with you,” she said. The promise of more sex always gets a man’s interest.
“Now, it’s time, Miss Sarah,” I said as I got on top of her. “You’re so wet I know we don’t need anything to help me slide into you.”
“Don’t worry about hurting me. I lost my cherry when I was 14, trying to get off with a long candle. So just fuck me and make it hard.”
“Okay. You reach down between us and guide my dick into you. That’s a whole lot easier for you to do than for me.”
She immediately responded, grabbed my dick with her right hand and placed it at the entrance to her waiting pussy. “Stick it in me now,” she said.
I needed no further encouragement. I was right, she was so wet, I immediately slid in. Miss Sarah had the tightest pussy I had ever fucked. It felt like a hand covered with warm velvet, as wet as a mouth, squeezing my dick as tight as it could without forcing me to retreat.
I knew that Sarah had cum so hard that it wouldn’t take much for her to reach her next orgasm, so I didn’t bother with starting slow. I reached out and grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the bed. “You wanna be fucked hard, I’ll give it to you hard!”
I began pushing my dick into her sweet cunt just as fast and hard as I possibly could. As soon as I was fully emerged in her pussy, I withdrew for my next thrust. I was moaning and breathing heavily, obviously working at fucking this pussy like it was the last pussy I would ever get.
Within three thrusts, Miss Sarah was panting like a dog, moaning like a whore in heat. “Fuck me, Ron. Fuck me hard. Oh, fuck, Oh, fuck. Cum in my pussy. I want your cum in my pussy.”
It didn’t take much of that talk from my sweet goddess to put me over the edge. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum in your pussy, oh . . . here it is!”
As my dick began pumping my cum into Miss Sarah, she began cumming, moaning in unison with each jet of cum that filled her tight pussy. She had her arms around me and she was holding on tight. I felt her hard nipples rubbing across my chest and . . . I was one satisfied fucker.
When I finished pouring my seed into her sweet female garden, I began kissing her cheeks, nibbling on her ear lobe, and whispering in her ear.
“I’ve never felt anything that wonderful in my entire life,” I said quietly. “You’re the lover every man dreams of having. Your passion . . . and cumming in your pussy is a dream come true. I just hope it was as good as you expected it to be.”
“Ron,” Miss Sarah said softly, “I want to spend every night of the rest of my life in your bed.” And with that, she kissed me softly and tenderly on the lips. “I love you, Ron.”
“I love you, too, sweetie,” I replied.
I got off of her and laid on my back next to her. She rolled over on her side, facing me, laid her head on my shoulder, draped her left leg over mine, and was sleeping soundly within fifteen seconds.
“I love you, too, sweetie,” I said to no one other than myself. “We’ll just have to find a way to make it happen.”
I closed my eyes and, in the ten or so seconds that it took before I was asleep, I knew that I was the most contented man on the planet. And then sleep came over me and I slept soundly, because my desires had been completely satisfied. In every way that a woman could please a man, this young goddess had satisfied me.
I woke the next morning around 7:30 a.m. It was a Saturday morning and although I had no need to wake that early, I did so as a matter of habit, routinely, every day, seven days a week. Most Saturday mornings, I closed my eyes and returned to sleep, but not this Saturday morning.
When I opened my eyes, I was gazing at Miss Sarah. She was beautiful in the morning just as she was beautiful at night. Her clear, soft skin beckoned me to touch her. Her tousled brown hair wanted my fingers in it. Her nipples were created to be looked upon, licked, and sucked until they were hard and firm. Her breasts were two magnificent orbs to be grabbed, to be handles for me as I held the naked skin of her back against my chest, my dick nestled between the cheeks of her ass and my fingers gently encouraging her clit.
I longed to give her an orgasm and I wanted to have an orgasm with her. I wanted to come on her. I wanted to come in her. I wanted to come in her hand, her mouth, between her tits, in her pussy, and in her ass. I wanted her.
All of these thoughts and feelings filled my brain in the instant that I opened my eyes and looked at her. Almost as quickly, my dick began to twitch, to engorge, and to stiffen until I was hard and needed release.
I gazed upon her body and was filled with an overpowering lust. Perhaps having sex with my former step-daughter was wrong. Even though we were no longer related by blood or marriage, I knew that most people would disapprove of this. I had been her step-father at one time and she had looked up to me as an authority figure. If I had a sexual relationship with Miss Sarah, it was undoubtedly because I was taking advantage of her trust in me. Yes, I knew it was wrong.
It was wrong but I didn’t care. I would do whatever was necessary to have sex with her. If she was a whore, I would mortgage my house to pay her for sex. If she was in prison, I would plan a jail break just so I could have an opportunity to come inside her once again. I knew it wrong but it didn’t matter. I wanted her now and I wanted her tomorrow and the next day.
I knew that I lusted for Miss Sarah but I realized that my feelings were deeper than simple animal passion. I enjoyed spending time with Miss Sarah. I loved every minute of taking her to dinner, watching a movie with her, talking with her about her life. When I had still been married to Gretchen, Miss Sarah and I had even had some talks about our dreams and plans. Mostly, we had talked about her dreams and, of course, she was still a teenager so her dreams were not mature, but nonetheless her dreams were sweet, innocent, and delightful. When she talked about her future, it made me wish to be young again, so that I could be the one with whom she would share her future. I never thought that she would want a relationship with me as a lover. How gloriously and delightfully wrong I had been!
I knew now that I was falling in love with Miss Sarah. After the divorce, I truly did not miss Gretchen, but I had missed Miss Sarah. During the marriage, I had not wanted to spend time with Gretchen; it was Miss Sarah whose company I had valued. When I had given Miss Sarah hugs and kisses on the forehead, I know that I had fought an internal struggle to not kiss her with passion and desire and to announce my longing for her. I had restrained myself admirably, because of the circumstances, but I no longer had that motivation. Now, I wanted her to know how I felt.
All of these thoughts and feelings passed through my head and my heart in the twinkling of an eye. As I looked at the naked Miss Sarah lying next to me, I knew that I did not simply want to fuck her, but I wanted to make love with her. I wanted to arouse in her not just her primitive hormonal desires but I wanted to make her feel wanted, desired, and loved, and I wanted her to love me.
Miss Sarah rolled onto her left side so that her back was towards me. Her cute little ass was like a magnet for my eyes and I could not move my gaze from the small of her back and the crevice between her ass cheeks that disappeared beneath the linens.
She was naked, I was naked, and I wanted her.
I slid over in the bed so that we were spooning. I placed my left arm under her pillow and my right arm around her so that my hand could find a nipple. She was sleeping and her nipples weren’t erect – yet – while my hand perceived the beauty of her firm breast. I simply held her breast with my right hand and focused on its warmth and smooth texture. My head was resting on the pillow next to her and my mouth was close to her ear.
My dick was hard and it had found its way into the crevice between her legs. Her nipples were beginning to fill with her life force, to signal their arousal. I could see her eyelids fluttering and then opening.
“Uhmmm, that feels so nice,” she whispered.
“You feel wonderful,” I replied.
“I thought that I’d probably be waking up on your sofa this morning. But waking up in the bed beside you is much better.” Miss Sarah said this with a tentative voice, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of what happened between us last night.
“Honey,” I said, “you’ve got to know that last night was . . ..”
“Ron, I hope you’re not going to tell me that you think it was a mistake.” She sounded upset and I immediately wanted to reassure her.
“No, no, no, honey. Last night wasn’t a mistake. Last night was beautiful. You felt wonderful, you made me feel wonderful, but it wasn’t just a good time. You stirred some feelings in me that I haven’t felt in quite a while. What I feel for you isn’t what a step-father is supposed to feel for his step-daughter. And it’s not just lust. Miss Sarah, I love you. I love you as a man loves a woman and I want you in my life as my lover, as my girlfriend, my companion, my bed mate, and maybe more. I want you, and I want all of you.”
“Oh, Ron, I love you, too! I’m so relieved to hear you telling me how you feel. I was afraid to tell you that I love you, I was afraid you’d think I was being a silly little girl with a crush, but I do love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a long time but I couldn’t say anything or do anything about it but . . . now . . . I want to be with you every day and every night. I want to be your girlfriend and your lover, and . . . if we are meant to be, I want to be more.”
She was still lying on her side, facing away from me but, as soon as the last words left her lips, she rolled over so that she was facing me. We looked into each other’s eyes and I knew, at that moment, that I would eventually marry Miss Sarah.
Our lips met, very tenderly, and I allowed my lips to caress hers for a moment and then my tongue slid into her mouth. Her tongue danced with mine and I could feel the passion and desire mounting within her.
“I am SO horny for you now,” she uttered with desperation, “but . . . my pussy is still sore from last night. That was my first time and I think it needs to rest.”
She paused and I was preparing to tell her that we could wait but she continued. “I’ve never made love with anyone else and playing with a vibrator really doesn’t prepare you to be a lover. I want you to teach me how to be the best lover in the world for you. I’ll do anything to make you happy; just show me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“Honey,” I replied, “the best thing you can do to be a good lover is to love me with all of your heart and soul. The rest of that stuff just comes with experience and trying new things. And of course I’ll show you whatever you want to know. You’ve already made me the happiest man in the world.”
“You’re so sweet,” she said. “And you’re obviously very horny, too. I don’t think I can handle having you in my pussy now, but show me and I’ll do something else to make you come.”
“Baby, your wonderful. In my fantasies, I have come in your hand, in your mouth, your tits, your pussy . . . I even came in your ass. Any of those things would make me come.”
“I want you to show me something different this morning. Will you show me anal sex?”
“Are you sure that’s something you want, Honey?” I asked, but, of course, I was hoping and praying that the answer would be ‘yes.’
“Well, last night, when you were going down on me and you stuck your finger in my butt, it felt a little weird at first, ’cause I’ve never had that done to me before. But, when I started coming, it felt like I was coming even harder because you had your finger in me back there. So, if you want, show me more.”
“Roll over on your stomach,” I instructed her. She replied like an obedient and eager pupil.
I placed my hand on her inner thigh and began stroking her leg. I gradually moved my hand higher until my fingers were brushing against her pussy. As my fingers grazed her female lips, her quiet moans told me I had started something good.
“Lift up a little so I can reach your clit,” I said. She raised her torso slightly so that her mons was maybe an inch above the bed. I reached under her and began massaging her clit. Within seconds, she was doing most of the work, humping my hand as if it was a toy for her masturbation pleasure.
I leaned over her and brought my lips to rest on the small of her back. I kissed her gently and licked her with the extreme tip of my tongue so that the wetness of my mouth barely tickled her skin. As her moaning began to get louder, I moved my mouth towards her ass, placing gentle kisses on every inch of her skin that passed below my lips.
When my mouth was directly above her anus, I used my free hand to pull her ass cheek to the side, exposing her forbidden entrance.
“Are you looking at my ass now?” she asked. “This feels so nasty!”
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, my tone of voice clearly indicating that I wanted to continue.
“No, don’t stop. It just feels so naughty, like I’m being a bad girl.”
“Oh, Honey, you’re the best little bad girl in the whole wide world,” I reassured her. With that, I licked her ass cheek about an inch from her puckered orifice, tracing a circle from one ass cheek to the other. The volume of her moaning told me that she enjoyed these new sensations and that I should continue.
I lowered my tongue into the sweet fold of her derriere and licked its length until I felt the pucker of her asshole. As soon as my tongue had found its target, Miss Sarah’s moans became yet louder.
“Oh, gawd, Ron, lick me. Lick my ass. Fuck my ass with your tongue,” she begged. I wondered how such a sweet and innocent young girl could say such things but it didn’t matter. Her urgent request for a tongue fucking made me even harder and more desperate to please her.
“You’re ass is so sweet,” I responded. “I’ll fuck it with my tongue and then I’ll fuck it with my dick!”
As I finished making this promise, she began to have an orgasm. My hand on her pussy had become considerably damp and even wet, and her ass was frantically moving up and down as her body convulsed in paroxysms of delight.
I removed my tongue from her anal orifice and replaced it with my finger. I placed the tip of my index finger at her asshole and gently applied pressure. She continued to writhe in bliss and she reached back with her hands to pull her cheeks apart. When she did so, I slid my finger into her ass and began making small strokes in and out of her heavenly hole.
“Oh, fuck me, I’m coming! Oh, Ron, fuck my ass now. Please fuck my ass!”
How could I deny such a plaintive petition? I had a bottle of K-Y in the bedside table and quickly retrieved it. I straddled her hips with my knees and applied an ample amount of the slippery liquid.
I used both hands to part her ass cheeks and I got a visual lock on my target. Her little asshole was pink and it looked just perfect. I leaned forward and my dick slid into her butt crack. I placed the tip of my dick at her backdoor and pushed forward.
As soon as my dick was inside her ass, I exclaimed “I’m fucking your ass. . . . Oh, so tight! So hot! I don’t care if I burn in hell, I’ve never felt anything this good my entire life!”
As I continue to stroke in and out of her ass, my strokes became longer and I went deeper into her forbidden entrance. When the full length of my dick was buried in her ass, I leaned forward and reached underneath her to grab her breasts. I found both nipples and they were as hard as steel. I began to roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers as I continued to explore her deepest hidden pleasure.
“I want this every night the rest of my life,” she said with longing.
“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer inside you. You’re ass is so tight and hot, I feel it building inside me.”
“Ron, I’m gonna come. Come in my ass when I come!” She wanted it as much as I did and I was amazed.
I felt my seed boiling within me and then I knew that an eruption was inevitable.
“Ron, I’m coming!” she screamed in a voice loud enough that the neighbors heard it . . . and were jealous, I’m sure. That was all it took for me to go over the edge.
I began to spurt my cum into her ass and I could feel her ass become even tighter as I deposited my sperm in her naughty place. She was so tight that, as I started to become flaccid, her sphincter ejected me from this blessed place.
I rolled off of her and onto my side and she rolled over to face me.
“Oh, damn, that was good!” She was almost breathless and it took effort for her to form her words. “I never thought that a dick in my ass would make me come, but . . . oh, damn, that was good!”
“Baby, that was magnificent but, you know, this is only Saturday morning and we have the rest of the weekend to go exploring.”
“I don’t know how much more I can do, Ron, but there’s only one way to find out. Why don’t you go make some coffee and bring two cups into the bathroom. You can join me in the tub for a nice warm soak.”
The remainder of the weekend was spent inside. I had some food on hand for lunch and we ordered pizza delivery on Saturday night. We ate pepperoni slices as we watched a soft porn movie, followed by an “instructional” session about mutual oral sex. The soak in the tub apparently relieved the soreness in Miss Sarah’s pussy because we had vaginal sex at last three more times that weekend.
When 5:00 p.m. came on Sunday, Miss Sarah was packed and ready to return to her home with Gretchen.
“I don’t wanna leave,” she said, almost crying, and then the tears did begin to flow.
“Honey, come to my office tomorrow and we’ll talk about the future. If you love me as much as I love you, we’ll find a way to make it happen for us.”
“I’m all yours,” she replied. “Forever.”
I only hoped that we would be able to make it last. Forever.
Miss Sarah appeared at my office the next afternoon around 4:00 PM. The secretary called me on the intercom to let me know she was present. Miss Sarah had been at my office several times previously and everyone knew that she was my former step-daughter. No one knew that she was now my lover.
“Hi, Ron,” she said. Her voice sounded troubled.
“Hey, sweetie. Come on in here and we’ll talk,” I said to Miss Sarah. Turning to the receptionist, I instructed her to hold all of my calls.
Once the door was closed, Miss Sarah sat in a guest chair on the opposite side of my desk. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Ron, when Mom got home last night, she was such a bitch! But, don’t worry, she doesn’t know anything about me spendin’ the weekend with you.”
“Honey, I . . .,” I began but she interrupted.
“All I kept thinkin’ about was wantin’ to be with you. That’s what I want, Ron. Not just for a weekend every now and then and not just for a week on a cruise. I want you every day and every night!” Miss Sarah had obviously rehearsed what she was saying to me, not because it sounded ‘fake,’ but because she sounded so nervous.
“Miss Sarah,” I began as I stood and walked around to her side of the desk so that I could sit next to her, “I am so happy to hear you say that. I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since you left last night. I want you, too, honey, every day and every night. But, there is a big problem. . . . If your Mom finds out that you and me are together, she’ll disown you. Baby, I love you and I lust for you and I want you all to myself but I can’t be the cause of you losin’ your momma!”
“Ron, Mom already lost me; she just doesn’t know it yet. She’s so controllin’ and so self-centered; sometimes I feel like I’m the adult and she’s the child. I’m just so sick of it, it makes me wanna scream! I’ll go crazy if I hafta stay there.”
“Okay, honey, I hear what you’re sayin’, and . . . if that’s the way it’s gonna be, then that’s the way it’s gonna be, but . . . you can’t make that decision overnight!” As much as I wanted Miss Sarah for myself, I understood that it would involve her cutting all ties with her mother and I didn’t want to be blamed for any of that.
“It’s not overnight; I’ve been thinkin’ about this for months, you know, about movin’ out. Ever since, before the divorce, she just started gettin’ worse and worse. I don’t know how you put up with it as long as you did!”
“I did it mainly just to stay close to you, Miss Sarah,” I said quietly as I looked into her eyes.
“If I can’t live with you then I need to move out and find another place to live.”
“Hold on. I didn’t say that you couldn’t live with me. I don’t want you livin’ with anybody else but me, but . . . we just can’t rush into things.”
“Well, Ron, there is some good news. Mom’s goin’ out of town again this weekend. She met somebody at that A.A. convention she went to last weekend and they invited her to go campin’ with them up in the mountains. She’s leavin’ Friday mornin’ and won’t be back ’til Monday.”
“So you’ll be at my apartment Friday afternoon?”
“No, Friday mornin’, if you can take the day off Friday. I promise it’ll be worth it for ya.”
“That’s a deal,” I replied. I was already counting the hours until Friday morning.
* * *
Miss Sarah called me Friday around 8:00 AM to tell me that she would be driving over to my apartment in a few minutes. My doorbell rang about thirty minutes later. I had been awake for about two hours, had a shower, shaved, dressed, gotten myself presentable.
When I opened the door, Miss Sarah looked like she was dressed to kill. She was wearing heels – probably about three inch heels — with a white dress that came down to just about four or five inches above her knee. Her hair was done to perfection and her makeup accented her features beautifully. If she had been walking through the mall, the only men that wouldn’t have turned to look at her would have been either homosexual or blind. I’m not homosexual or blind, but I was speechless, so instead of waiting for an invitation, she just walked in the apartment and I shut the door behind her.
“Holy cow, you’re beautiful. But you’re dressed so nice . . . so sexy . . . where are you going?” I asked.
“You’re bed,” she replied with confidence in her voice. “I know what I need, and I need you . . . in me.”
My dick immediately began to rise and cause a tent in my pants. Miss Sarah looked down and saw the effect she was having on me. “It looks like you need the same thing I need,” she said with a sly smile on her face. “I hope you don’t think I’m bein’ too forward, but I know what I need, and Cosmo says that guys are turned on by girls that tell ’em what they want . . . and I really want to turn you on. So, is it okay if I just tell you what I want you to do to my body?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go takin’ all my instructions from Cosmo, but . . . I like the idea of you tellin’ me what you want. So . . . let’s play a little game this morning. You tell me what to do and we’ll do it.” I smiled as I said this to Miss Sarah. “You say . . . and I’ll do.”
She paused for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure that she could do this.
“Tell me what you want, honey. I wanna please you!” I didn’t want to seem too eager but I certainly was eager to play this game.
“Oh, you please me, no doubt about it,” she said. After another pause, she continued, “I want you to get down on your knees in front of me and reach up under my dress and pull down my panties.”
I knelt on the floor. Fortunately, it was carpeted but I probably would have gotten down on my knees if it had been a bed of nails. I desperately longed to touch her body and to know that she was mine. At that moment, I would have done whatever was necessary to possess her.
Gazing directly into her eyes, I placed my hands on the outside of her knees. I began to slide my hands up her legs until I reached the bottom of her butt. She was wearing bikini panties and they felt very smooth, very silky. I reached behind her and lightly traced swirls across her panty-clad behind. I then brought my right hand around to the front of her panties and I felt her swollen mons. Her panties were wet.
“Honey, your panties feel damp. Is your pussy wet already?” I teasingly asked her.
“I’ve been wet since last night, just thinkin’ about havin’ you inside me again,” she responded.
“I love the way you smell when your pussy is wet!” I boldly confessed. “I wanna smell your panties when I take ’em off.”
I reached higher until I found the elastic waist of her panties. I began peeling them down her legs very slowly. I wanted to tease her with the anticipation of what was to come. We had all day and I wanted to take my time making love with her. After all, that is why a younger girl seeks an older man as a lover.
When her panties were down to just above her knees, I could see that they were white, silky, and lacy. My dick got harder just looking at her panties, thinking about their smell, thinking about how the fabric of her panties had been nestled against her pussy that morning. I was jealous of her panties.
I continued lowering the panties until they were around her ankles. She raised up her right foot and I pulled the panties down over her right foot, then repeated the process on the left side. With her panties in my hands, I looked up at her and then brought her wet underwear to my face. I found the gusset and exposed it so that I could inhale the aroma of her cunt. Again, my dick got harder.
Her pussy smelled of earth and sex and I felt a strong urge to simply rip her clothes off of her sweet young body and fuck her until she begged me to stop. I wanted to bury my hard dick in her pussy and shoot my cum deep in her hot box until she moaned like a bitch in heat. I wanted to turn her around, bend her over, and shove my hard meat into her teeny tight asshole. I wanted to fill her mouth with my cum and then have her lick me clean.
I wanted to hear her beg me to fuck her and I wanted to hear her gasp for air when she was overcome by waves of orgasmic pleasure. I wanted all of that with an urgency that demanded every fiber of my being and every ounce of my consciousness . . . but I didn’t do any of that.
“What do you want now, my little girl?” I asked with a devilishly sly voice.
“Why, kind sir, all I need now is for you to fuck me with your fingers until I cum!” she responded in her most adult-like Southern belle voice.
“Why, madame, I am your humble and obedient servant and I do indeed intend to honor your wish!” I said in my best Beauregard imitation.
I put my right hand under her dress and reached up until I found her pussy. Her slit was wet and her aroma was beginning to fill the room. I began to move the tip of my index finger up her slit, passing on one side of her clit, and then down the other side. I began a slow, methodical, and unrelenting siege on the citadel of her female arousal.
Her breathing started to become a bit irregular. “That feels soooo good, honey!” she managed to say.
‘Honey,’ I thought to myself. ‘I like havin’ her call me ‘honey.”
“Do you want my finger inside you?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” was all she could say.
I turned my hand so that my palm was facing towards me. I slid my middle finger into her, past her pussy lips and inside her hot, wet void. My finger was engulfed in the slick moisture of her cunt. I wanted to lick her juices off of my finger but I left my probe where it was and began to stroke her G-spot. She immediately responded with a moan.
“Oh, yeah, that’s so . . . damn . . . good!”
Knowing that she was getting closer to an orgasm, I decided to take more liberties with my ministrations to her body. As I continued stroking her G-spot, I lifted by left hand up the back of her right leg until I once again found her cute little behind.
“You have such a cute little ass,” I said very quietly. “Every time I see it, I wanna feel it, and lick it, and then I wanna fuck it.”
“Don’t . . . stop,” she pleaded.
“No, I’m not gonna stop,” I replied as my left index finger traced along the bottom of her butt until it came to her forbidden valley. I reached down into the crack with the tip of my index finger until I felt her little sphincter.
“If you didn’t love this, you’d be pullin’ away . . . but you’re not. You’re such a dirty girl, you want me to play with your ass, don’t you?”
“Uh huh,” she managed to affirm.
I straightened my left index finger so that she could push against it, if she wanted, and allow me to penetrate her most private and forbidden orifice. Almost at once, she sensed what I had done, and why I had done it, and she began to take advantage of the opportunity.
“I’m a dirty girl ’cause I want my stepdaddy to fuck my pussy and my ass at the same time. I’m so horny, I just wanna cum on your hand, daddy!”
By this time, my index finger was in her ass up to the first knuckle. I kept my finger in her ass as I withdrew my other index finger from her pussy and return to stimulate her clit.
“Oh, gawd, oh, oh . . . I’m gonna cum,” she said. The next thing I heard was something sub-vocal, something primordial, something hormonal, something driven by uncontrollable forces. She was having an orgasm and the orgasm was the only thing that she cared about at that moment.
As she was rocked by waves of contractions, she shifted her weight so that she went into more of a crouching position. This brought my left index finger deeper into her ass and, as I penetrated the depth of her teenaged derriere, she began to wildly utter “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, . . ..”
After about 15 or 20 seconds of total orgasmic absorption, Miss Sarah began to descend from the precipice of her la petite mort and return to the world of my apartment living room. She raised herself up to an erect position and my left index finger exited her most forbidden tunnel.
I stood and put my arms around her, embracing her with tenderness and love. “I love makin’ you feel good, Miss Sarah,” I said sweetly.
“Oh, Daddy, that was so much more than good. I thought I was gonna pass out when I came!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much. You know, we’ve gotta lotta time this mornin’ to do more of whatever you wanna do. . . . Oh, and, what’s up with the ‘daddy’ thing?” I asked.
“Don’t you like it when I call you ‘Daddy?'” she asked.
“Oh, yeah, it makes it seem so naughty, like I’m bein’ such a bad boy and you’re bein’ such a bad girl, but, if we’re gonna be a couple and do things out in public and meet people together, you shouldn’t be callin’ me Daddy, ’cause people’ll think I’m some sorta pedophile or somethin’.”
“Well, you are a pedophile, kinda. I’m a sweet, innocent little girl and you took my virginity and you fucked my mouth and you fucked my ass and you made me cum so hard I thought I had peed on myself. You have taken my innocence and now I’m your willin’ sex slave.” She laughed and I knew she was just teasing me. “But, I do get it, and hearin’ you talk about us bein’ a couple sounds so good. How ’bout if I just call you ‘Daddy’ when we’re in private?”
“That would be very nice . . . and very naughty, too. Now, what would like for me to do next,” I inquired.
“Well, Daddy, I was hopin’ that you might finish undressin’ me and suck on my nipples for awhile,” she answered.
“Why, I’d love to, honey. Why don’t you step into my bedroom and we’ll make ourselves more comfortable?” I suggested.
She walked into the bedroom and I followed her. Once she was in the bedroom, she began to turn around but I told her not to. Instead, I walked up behind her and placed my arms around her. I placed my mouth at her right ear and nibbled on her ear lobe before saying, “I want you in my life forever and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. You’ve got my dick as hard as steel but this isn’t just lust, Miss Sarah. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Now . . . please tell me that that’s what you want, too!” I hoped that she wanted me in the way that I wanted her.
She turned and faced me, then gently brought her lips to mine and kissed me softly. “You are all that I want and I can’t imagine spendin’ the rest of my life with anyone but you. If you want me, I’ll be yours forever.”
“You’ve got me,” I assured her. I kissed her, not as a father or step-father, but as her lover, and I held her body tightly against me. As my tongue explored her mouth, my right hand slid down her dress until it cupped her beautiful ass. I gently squeezed and massaged her derriere as I whispered in her ear, “I want you, now!”
“You can have me,” she replied, “but first you promised me, remember? You’re supposed to finish undressin’ me and suck on my little teenaged titties until I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Oh, yes, I remember . . . and I intend to give you what you want. Now, turn around,” I directed her.
As soon as her back was towards me, I reached up to the top of her dress and began pulling the zipper down. Slowly, as the zipper fell, the sides of her dress fell away from her body, exposing her precious creamy smooth skin. I ran the tip of my index finger up her spine until I reached the base of her neck, then I used both hands to pull the dress off of her shoulders. She lowered her arms and with a magical shake of her body, the dress dropped to the floor.
“Why, Miss! You’re not wearin’ any panties!” I exclaimed in feigned surprise.
“Well, sir, I had panties on when I left home this morning, but some dirty old man pulled them down and took ’em and then he wouldn’t give ’em back to me,” she explained with a pretended expression of embarrassment. “And, the worst part is . . . he stuck his fingers in me and made me cum twice . . . and now . . . I know it sounds dirty, but I can’t help it, sir . . . I jus’ need a man to suck on my titty nipples and then fuck me with his dick.”
“Well, I’m might sorry to hear about yer predicament, ma’am. Bein’ that I am such a gentleman, I think I oughta help you out with that problem. Here, I’ll just loosen up this brassiere and see what I can do about that nipple problem.”
“Why, I’d be ever so grateful!” she said.
As soon as her bra hit the floor, I had my arms wrapped around her body and a hand on each nipple. “First, I’m gonna play with your nipples just like this and then I’m gonna suck on ’em ’til you tell me to stop. Then, I’m gonna fill you with my man meat and fuck you ’til you’re full o’ my cum.” I was rolling her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and they felt like little pebbles.
“You are 100% absolutely naked and I’m not. What a dirty little girl!” I told her. “If my eyes were teeth, you’d be eaten up by now! I’ll bet you want me to do dirty things to your little girl body!”
I turned her around and lowered my mouth to her breasts. I placed a hand on each side of her right breast and then sucked her nipple into my mouth. I bathed her nipple with my tongue, I sucked on her milk-maker, and I became deliriously obsessed with capturing the taste of her boobs and savoring it forever.
“Play with my pussy,” she demanded pleadingly. “Please!”
I reached between her legs and quickly found her clit. As soon as I began rubbing it, she started cumming.
“Oh my gawd, fuck me, fuck me, I’m cummin’.” This was followed by moaning and gasping for air as she experienced yet another peak in her sexual bliss that morning.
“Okay. Now, it’s my turn,” I said.
“And I think I know what you want, you dirty old man. I know what daddy wants to do to his little teeny step-daughter,” she said. She turned and crawled up onto my bed. She stopped with her knees at the edge of the mattress and then she lowered her torso to the mattress so that her naked ass was pointed straight up at me. It certainly looked delicious!
“Why, Miss Sarah! When a girl gets in that position, do you know what it says to a man?” I asked.
“Yes, I do, Ron. It means here I am, stick it in my pussy or stick it in my ass, I don’t care which, just stick it in me. Isn’t that what it means?”
“Why, yes, honey, that’s absolutely what it means. But . . . you said it was my turn to ask for somethin’ and that isn’t what I want, not just yet. I mean, I want it, but there’s somethin’ else I wanna see first,” I said.
Raising her body back to an erect position, she said, “Well, just tell me and I’ll do it.”
“Okay. I want you to get back in the position you were in a minute ago, and then I want you to reach back with your hand and play with yourself ’til you cum.”
She shook her head from side to side. “You wanna watch me play with myself? You are such a dirty old man, stealin’ your innocent little step-daughter’s virginity, fuckin’ her virgin pussy, fuckin’ her tiny mouth, fuckin’ her tight ass, stealin’ her wet panties, and then tellin’ her to play with her pussy. You’re just as dirty as I am, but there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, so I’m gonna do it . . . but then I want you in me!”
She leaned back down to the bed so that her ass was sticking up at the edge of the bed and I had a full and complete view of her pussy, her ass, and the hand that she had guided back to her garden of delights.
“I usually use a vibrator when I play with myself, or I put the shower head between my legs, or sometimes I just get in the bathtub and let the water fall on my pussy. I’ve never had anybody watch, ‘cept . . .”
“Except what, honey?” I asked.
“Well, this’ll probably sound like I’m makin’ it up but . . . when you and Mom were married, I used to get in bed at night and get my vibrator out and play with myself and I had this fantasy about you openin’ my bedroom door and catchin’ me in the middle of it and the idea of you seein’ me do it just made me cum so hard!”
“So, a few weeks ago, Tina was spendin’ the night, and, uh . . . we were in bed and talkin’ about sex and she said somethin’ about how hot you are and how she always wanted to fuck you, and so . . . I said, ‘yeah, me, too,’ and then I told her about how I used to play with my vibrator and think about you catchin’ me and how hard that made me cum, so she said, ‘yeah, havin’ somebody else watch you while you diddle yourself would be so hot.’ So then she says ‘do you want to?’ and I say ‘want to what?’ and she says get naked and watch each other.”
As she was telling me this story, her finger was massaging the little nubbin at the top of her slit, and her breathing was getting gradually more irregular.
“So, I asked her was she tryin’ to go lesbo on me and she said ‘no, I just thought it would be hot, ’cause it’s so taboo,’ so I said ‘okay but you go first,’ and she said ‘okay but I wanna borrow your vibrator. So she stood up and took off all her clothes and, I’m not lesbo, but Tina has a pretty hot body. You know, she has kinda small tits but they were real firm and she had little nipples. So she gets my vibrator and puts it on her clit and then she puts it inside of her and we were lucky mom is so hard of hearin’ ’cause Tina started cummin’ and moanin’ real loud and her nipples got real hard and I could smell her pussy juice.”
“Wow, that’s quite a story,” I said, feelin’ a bit guilty because I wish I had been there to see Tina naked, but I wasn’t feeling too guilty because Miss Sarah had volunteered that story of her own volition. “So, then, did you . . .?”
“Oh, yeah,” she answered, “when Tina came down from her orgasm, she says to me ‘your turn’ and I got up to take off my panties and she asked me if I needed any help. I swear I think she was tryin’ to hit on me, but anyway . . . I said ‘no’ and I pulled down my panties and got back in bed, then I didn’t wanna use the vibrator she had just used, so I just started fingerin’ myself and, Ron, I’m not lez, but havin’ her watch just made it so damn hot. I came so fuckin’ hard, then we were both ready to go to sleep, so we did. Uh . . . in the middle of the night, I woke up and Tina was spooned up behind me and she had her arm over me and her hand on my boob and it was kinda weird but it didn’t feel bad so I just went back to sleep.”
“Holy, moly! That’s so fuckin’ hot!” I said. “You should bring your vibrator with you the next time you come over. We can have lots of fun with it.”
“Are you close to cummin’?” I asked. I kneeled down on the floor directly behind Miss Sarah so that my face was only inches from her pussy and ass.
“So, when you fantasize about me . . . do you fantasize ’bout me stickin’ my tongue in your pussy? I’ll bet you think about getting’ up on your knees and openin’ yourself up to me and wonderin’ which hole am I gonna stick it in, don’t you?”
“That’s what I’m wonderin’ right now,” she admitted. “And I don’t care where you stick it, but I need you to cum in me.”
I leaned forward and started licking her behind on either side of her puckered orifice. Miss Sarah moved her middle finger from her clit to her pussy and she penetrated her own female depths. Her arousal quickly increased and I drew my tongue closer to her most intimate opening, allowing the wet tip to graze the pinkish-red folds at the entry to her bowels.
“Oh gawd, that’s so filthy but . . . don’t stop!” she begged.
I continued licking and pushing my tongue against her rosebud.
“Fuck me now; I’m not gonna last much longer!” she warned me.
I needed no further encouragement. My dick needed no further encouragement. I stood and placed my probe at her dripping wet cunt and plunged forward with all of my desire.
“Keep fingerin’ your clit,” I said as I began to pound her pussy. “Your little girl pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, I’m not gonna last very long!”
I reached down with my right hand and slid my index finger down her ass crack. When I felt her anus, I pushed lightly with my fingertip so that it just started to penetrate her rear entrance. Feeling her spinchter squeeze my finger took my arousal to another plateau and I could feel my seed begin to collect for delivery to the waiting hot cauldron of her female desire.
“Honey, I’m so close . . . I’m gonna cum . . . oh, yeah . . . here it comes!” I said like an animal consumed with lust.
“Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . .” she wailed. I could feel her body falling over the cliff, become lost in uncontrollable sexual abandon. Her pussy muscles were contracting in waves and each pulse felt as if it wanted to pull me further into her vaginal playground.
“Oh, fuck me, fuck me . . . don’t stop!” she begged, lost in the throes of her passion.
With my left hand, I reached underneath her and squeezed her left nipple. That was all it took. Her pussy clamped down on me and refused to let go. My cum started travelling through my dick and it felt like a golf ball trying to squeeze through a garden hose. It hurt and it was heavenly and all I needed was the release of an eruption inside Miss Sarah.
“Oh, yeah,” I exclaimed as the first spurt entered her nubile body. I continued thrusting, delivering my seed into its willing receptacle. “Oh, your pussy’s so good, so tight, so fuckin’ sexy!”
I felt the last drop of my cum leave my dick and deposit itself in Miss Sarah’s pussy. “Oh, sweetie, you are the most incredible lover I have ever had!” I exclaimed.
As I pulled my deflating member from her cunt, Miss Sarah said, “If I fuck anymore right now, my pussy’ll be sore for a week.”
She collapsed on the bed, laying on her left side and I got in bed with her, spooning our bodies together. As I drifted off into a very contented sleep, I briefly thought about Miss Sarah living with me and I knew it was what I wanted. It was what she wanted, too. We would find a way to make it happen.
Miss Sarah continued to visit me for a few hours during week nights and weekends and, occasionally, she would stay with me overnight if her mother was out of town. We continued to have sex in almost every way I knew and Miss Sarah made up for her innocence and ignorance of sex with her eagerness to please me. All of her visits did not result in us having sex but we were doing it at least twice a week.
Eventually, the date of the cruise arrived and Miss Sarah and I drove to the port to embark. We had a one bedroom cabin with a balcony that made my teen sweetie squeal with delight. She had brought her dressy clothes for fancy dining and she had brought her skimpiest bikinis for poolside and, of course, she had her birthday suit for our intimate moments.
The first night aboard ship, we had a wonderful dinner and then we went dancing in a lounge which was more appropriate for my age than hers. She was dressed in an elegant cocktail dress and she looked like a young girl trying to please an older man. As we slowed danced, I felt her rubbing her pussy against my thigh.
“Are you tryin’ to make yourself get wet?” I asked.
“No . . . I’m already wet,” she replied.
“Well, if you keep doin’ what you’re doin’, my pants’ll be so tight I won’t be able to move,” I warned her.
“Then let’s go back to our room, dear,” she said in a sultry voice.
As soon as the door closed, she turned to me and said, “I wanna do somethin’ that we haven’t already done,” she said. Her tone of voice indicated that she had something specific in mind.
“What’s that, honey?” I asked. It was difficult to believe that she had been an innocent virgin just months ago.
“Well, I tried that 69 thing before but guys always quit as soon as they came and I know you won’t do that, so I wanna do it the right way and see what all the fuss is about.”
“Honey, I won’t stop until you beg me to stop,” I promised her. I was surprised to realize that we had never done 69. She had given me oral pleasures many times and I had tasted the nectar of her aroused cunt on multiple occasions, but we had never given each other an oral orgasm simultaneously.
It only took a few moments for both of us to be out of our clothes and on the bed. My head was on the pillow and my feet at the bottom of the bed. As soon as I was settled into my position, Miss Sarah got on top of me with her knees straddling my chest and her feet by my ears. To hell with foreplay!
Within a few seconds, I felt her tongue exploring my member. When I opened my eyes, I looked up and saw her beautiful shaved pussy and her obscenely and naughtily exposed asshole. My tongue was inexorably drawn to her pussy like a magnet pointing to the north. As soon as I made contact with the folds of her bare cunt, she began to moan.
“Ooh, don’t stop, Daddy!” she entreated me. “That feels so damn good!”
I had my hands on her rump, gently rubbing in circles. I rubbed in wider circles, bringing my hands closer to her forbidden valley. As soon as my fingertips grazed the outer folds of her pucker, her cheeks squeezed together.
“Should I stop?” I asked briefly as I withdrew my mouth from the lips of her very wet pussy.
“You’d better not!” she retorted, immediately returning to her work on my throbbing dick.
I reached to my bedside and grabbed a bottle of lubricant. I opened it and squeezed a few drops onto my right index finger. As soon as I had secured the bottle, I placed the tip of my index finger at the entrance to her naughty hole. I applied a slight pressure to the middle of her orifice and waited for her response.
She immediately began to rock backwards as if she wanted my finger to thrust into her. I plunged my finger in up to the second knuckle and she went wild. This only caused me to redouble my efforts on her clit as I sucked it into my mouth and then released it, as if I were giving her clit a blow job.
“Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd, ooooh . . .,” she wailed as an orgasm consumed her body. Her ass cheeks were pulsating and squeezing my finger as her pussy flooded my face with the nectar of her sexual release.
Her moaning pushed me over the edge and I warned her, “I’m gonna cum . . . oh, jeez, I’m so close . . ..”
She didn’t hesitate to keep sucking as I began to erupt with spurts of hot cum into her mouth. The end of my dick felt as if she had sucked a golf ball through a drinking straw. As I emptied my seed into her mouth, I tried to catch my breath.
“So good! So good!” It was all I could say.
She turned around in bed and snuggled up to me. “So THAT’s what all the fuss is about,” she said. “Wow, I thought my coochee was gonna explode! Can you do that again, Daddy?”
“As often as you want,” I replied, “but there are still other things for us to explore.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“For now . . . sleep, my dear,” I replied.
“Daddy, I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Miss Sarah,” I responded.
“Daddy, I don’t love you just like a daddy. I mean that I love you like a woman loves a man. I’m in love with you,” she said. There was a timidity in her voice, an uncertainty in her expression, as if she was afraid that her love would be unrequited.
“Miss Sarah, I am in love with you, too, like a man loves a woman. If you’re afraid that I’m gonna stop lovin’ you, you need to stop bein’ afraid. When I’m with you, I’m in heaven. And that’s not just when we’re havin’ sex.”
She turned to me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips.
Within a few minutes, we were both asleep, happy and contented with our lives.
When I awoke next morning, she was awake and standing at the balcony door. She was not wearing anything except her smile. As she stood at the door, she was facing outward, looking past the railing, and she did not turn when she heard me arising.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it, Daddy?” she asked as she looked out at the open sea.
“Just beautiful, Sweetie. This is certainly a cabin with a view, a magnificent view,” I said. My eyes never left her naked young body. I walked up behind her and placed my hands on her warm breasts. Her nipple began to harden and my dick began to fill with desire for her body.
“Daddy, do you love me just for the sex?” she asked.
“Why are you feelin’ so insecure? Honey, I love havin’ sex with you but I love you for much more than just that. Why . . . do you think that I’m obsessed with havin’ sex with you?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m not complainin’ about the sex, ’cause its wonderful. I just need to know that this isn’t just about sex,” she explained. “Will you still love me a month from now, or a year from now?”
“Sweetie, it’s quite normal, when you find somethin’ that you really, really like, to want to hold on to it and never let it go, but . . . life can be funny sometimes. Things change, things happen that you never expected, and suddenly life is much different than you ever thought that it would be. You just can’t predict the future. You can’t.”
“Daddy, are you tryin’ to say that you won’t want me forever?”
“No, no, no! Honey, I want you for as long as you’ll have me,” I insisted.
“Even if that’s forever?” she asked in her little girl voice.
“I hope it’s forever,” I answered.
For a moment, I became lost in my reverie. I really did hope that it would be forever. I realized that Miss Sarah was everything that I wanted in a woman. Of course I realized that our age difference would present problems but I thought we could handle whatever difficulties arose.
The bigger challenge was the fact that I had been married to Miss Sarah’s mother. Since my marriage to Gretchen had ended in divorce, Miss Sarah was not legally my step-daughter. A relationship between us was not forbidden by the laws against incest but polite society would still view our union dimly. Gretchen would become my mother-in-law, but Miss Sarah seemed so distant from Gretchen that I didn’t know what the future would hold for their relationship. Perhaps Gretchen wouldn’t be such a big problem.
‘What if we had children?’ I thought. ‘Children!? Why am I thinking about children?’ My sudden rush of thoughts was overwhelming and I quickly retreated back to the here-and-now.
“Daddy, is it okay if we go get breakfast now instead of havin’ sex? I’m kinda hungry. We can do it later,” Miss Sarah said with a gleeful anticipation.
“Sure, honey, sure,” I replied.
Over breakfast, we began talking, once again, about the possibility of her living with me. We both saw the advantages and Miss Sarah, of course, saw no disadvantages.
“Honey, I’m not tryin’ to talk you out of the idea, but if you live with me, your momma will probably never talk to you again.”
“Well, she doesn’t have to know that we’re sleepin’ in the same bed every night,” she offered.
“Right, but just the idea of you living in my home will push her off the deep end,” I explained. “If she thinks that you and me are engaged in somethin’ more, she’ll probably try to have me arrested. It won’t do her any good, but she’ll sure enough try.” I felt very confident about this.
“Then I’ll come visit you in jail every day,” Miss Sarah promised with a laugh.
“Honey, as much as I want you, I don’t want to tear you away from your mother. She’s the only mother that you’ll ever have and — despite all the bad things that I can say about her, or that you can say about her — she’s the one that gave birth to you and wiped your ass when you didn’t even know you had crapped in your pants.”
Miss Sarah laughed at my crude humor. “That’s all true, but if she comes between me and you, I’ll never forgive her and I’ll never have anything like a mother-daughter relationship with her, anyway, so what difference does it make?”
“Miss Sarah, you don’t have to rush into a decision about this. I just brought it up for you to think about,” I said.
“I don’t need to think about it anymore. I’ve already thought about it and it’s what I want,” she replied. “How soon can I move in?”
“If you’re sure about it . . . when we get back home, we’ll go right to my place to unpack and then you can go get your things.”
“You’ll come with me, won’t you?” she asked.
“If you want, but you and your momma might wanna have a private conversation,” I tried to explain.
“You mean so she can tell me what a son of a bitch you are?” Miss Sarah asked.
“Something like that,” I responded.
“Well, I already know what you are and I know what your faults are and I love you anyway, so it won’t matter.” She seemed quite determined to not.
She certainly made love to me as if she wanted to capture my heart forever. For the next three days, we continued to enjoy excursions on shore, fine dining and dancing in the evenings, and wild, hot sex late at night and in the mornings.
We didn’t have sex the same way twice. I came in her hand. I came in her mouth. I came in her pussy. I came on her tits. I came in her ass. She came with my finger in her pussy. She came with a vibrator in her pussy. She came with my tongue in her pussy. She came with me sucking on her nipples. She came with me fingering her ass. She came while humping my leg. She came from masturbating while I watched. We had so much sex that my dick was sore from overuse (but I’m not complaining.)
What we had was love. It wasn’t just fucking. Fucking is what you do when you have sex just for your own pleasure and there happens to be a partner in bed having sex with you. Love is what you do when you want your partner to feel as much pleasure as possible, when you want your partner to know how aroused you are and how much you appreciate them for being with you. We made love and I knew that I was not just infatuated with Miss Sarah, not just in lust with her, but in love.
When our ship returned to port, we drove the two hours back to my apartment and I brought all of the bags inside. I told Miss Sarah that I had an errand to run and that she should start unpacking her bags and making room in my bedroom for her stuff.
A few hours later, I returned and saw that she had wasted no time in changing the bedroom to accommodate her and her things. I told her that it was time to go see her mother and we both got in the car. After a few minutes, it became obvious that I was not headed towards Gretchen’s home.
“Where are we goin’, Ron?” she asked.
“Well, I remembered that I have one more stop to make before we go see your mother. So . . . just bear with me and we’ll get through all of this together. You trust me, right?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she responded.
About ten minutes later, we passed through the entrance of the state park. Because it was a mid-week day, I quickly found a parking spot.
“What are we doin’ here, Ron?”
“You’ll see. Just trust me,” I said.
I opened the car door, grabbed her hand and led her across the walkway over the dunes and out to the sandy beach. Once we were on the beach, we began walking northward, so that the sun was not in our eyes, and I began talking.
“Miss Sarah, I cannot imagine anyone else ever makin’ me feel the way that you do. You’re such a beautiful girl and I know that you won’t be this young forever, but your beauty is more than just your physical appearance. There are so many ways that you make me feel special, that you make me feel loved! When we were on the ship, I thought that you were feelin’ insecure about our future and I spent some time thinkin’ about that. If you are willin’ to be a part of my future and commit yourself to a lifetime with me, then there is only one right and honorable thing to do.”
As I said that, I stopped and got down on one knee. I looked up into her eyes and I could see that, at last, she knew what I was getting ready to say.
“Miss Sarah, I would consider myself to be the luckiest guy on the earth if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?”
She began crying and they were obviously tears of joy. “I consider myself to be the luckiest girl on earth because you asked me to marry you. Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
As soon as she said yes, I reached into my pocket and retrieved an engagement ring. She held her hand out and I placed the ring on her finger. “Please accept this as a token of my love for you. I promise you that my love for you will never end.”
“. . . and when we have babies, each of them will be a reminder of our love. And I hope that we’ll start havin’ babies as soon as we’re married,” she replied.
And so began our life together. Gretchen blew a gasket and moved away with a woman who I suspected to be her lesbian lover. Miss Sarah and I had a wedding which was attended by most of our family and friends, although some chose to express their disdain for our choice by boycotting the event. Of course, those people were crossed off of our Christmas card list.
Eventually, we had three children, two boys and a girl. Miss Sarah is a wonderfully devoted wife and mother and I am a devoted and faithful husband. Sometimes our children complain about being woken in the middle of the night by noises coming from the direction of our bedroom. Miss Sarah has continued to be extremely uninhibited in the bedroom, but our adventures never involve sex with others or being watched by others. When we have sex, it’s not fucking; it’s love, it’s beautiful, and it’s a private thing. If you’ve ever truly been in love, you understand.