Furnished Room Ch. 05byPeter Duncan©
It was too good to be true, like something you would read in an erotic story. But there I was, living in a fabulous house in Denver with a beautiful woman, from whom I had rented a room, who had just asked me to take her to bed. I'd felt confident it would happen eventually but was surprised it did so fast. Everything seemed to be happening fast in that house. Her daughter, a stunning high school student, age eighteen, was a world class flirt... had boldly given me a blowjob in my car that morning. And then, the mother was asking me to go to bed that very evening. I wondered when the alarm would go off and wake me from my delicious dream.
Stacy, the daughter, had conveniently left for a weekend stay with her girlfriend at the University of Colorado. Claire (her mother) and I had a delicious and relaxing dinner where we learned a lot about each other's lives and ended up on the couch schmoozing with a brandy, kissing and petting. "Oh God, Lance," she said, "Take me to bed." And there we were, walking into Claire's bedroom.
From the time I talked with her on the phone the day before, when I was looking for a place to stay during my extended project in Denver, I had fantasized something like that. But how many times before had I thought that very thing when talking with a sexy woman. We were in her bedroom, all right, and Claire was panting.
I kissed her and pulled her tight, our abdomens undulating against one another's. My left hand cupped her soft cheek, made hard by the tight denim of her Levis. Working the steel button loose I zipped down her fly. Her tummy was soft and pillowy and I could tell as I explored that her bush was neatly trimmed.
Our kissing was delicious, her lips were soft. Unlike so many women I had been with she didn't suck my tongue so hard that my teeth irritated the bottom...just opened her mouth and let my tongue do the work. Hers merely played with mine as I tongue-fucked her mouth, her tongue darting inside my mouth as if it had been a longed for guest. It was delicious.
"I dreamed of you making love to me last night, Lance," she said. "I couldn't sleep and thought about what your cock might look like. May I see it?" It was a statement of how much a lady Claire was; she didn't assume that she could just grab me.
She had the feel of a submissive woman, not a slave, but one who liked to be directed. "Just unzip me and take it out Claire," I said and she did. "Take a closer look, if you would like." Holding my cock she lowered herself to her knees and looked up at me. "Is it to your liking," I asked.
Studying it like it was the first hard penis she had ever seen she held it on her palm and hefted it then pressed it against her cheek. "It's warm and veiny," she said, "The head is so smooth...shaped like a helmet." She touched it with her middle finger and smoothed the entire expanse of my head as if trying to discover a treasure. (My cock is 7 ½" long, thick enough to just fit inside a toilet paper tube if I powder or lube it. The head is mauve with an almost perfect helmet shape, very shiny when erect, as it was then).
"Oh Lance," she said, "I have always loved cocks so much." With the palm of her hand she held mine against her cheek again then wrapped her fingers around it and stroked, making the outer skin move so far back that the tight drum of my head bent my cock. She stroked me fast and ,again, held it against her cheek.
I kicked off my topsiders and dropped my pants, stepping out of them. Taking her hand off my cock, I peeled down my silk boxers. She pressed my erection against my naked belly and, with her left hand, cupped my balls (My balls, like scallions, are larger than many men's' and hang loosely in the bottom of my sack about four inches below my cock.) then hefted them with her palm.
Stretching the loose skin of my cock forward, halfway over its head, she kissed my balls, sucking at the right one. Having gathered saliva in her mouth, my testicle slipped easily through her lips and was soaked in the warm bath of her spittle. The feeling, the astonishing way she so gently sucked it between her lips and into her mouth, made me think that she could take a cracked egg and suck the white and yolk in and out many times without separating or breaking the yolk.
Opening her mouth wider she captured both of them, extending her tongue so far that I could feel the tip halfway between my scrotum and anus. The way she tantalized my balls made me think they were growing in her mouth. I was in a state of ecstasy so intense that I couldn't distinguish pleasure from pain. Thus, it was no surprise that, when she stroked outward on my cock, squeezing and milking it, the inevitable clear drop that usually formed in my slit was more like a crystal stream. Deftly, Claire caught the string with her tongue then worked the slick, seminal fluid so expertly over my glans(the head of my cock) that a shock started in my asshole and shot up my spine. Flexing up and down like a carousel horse it was all I could do to maintain my balance.
Claire's lips compressed like an o-ring around my throbbing erection, drawing tighter as it slipped toward the end, tighter still over the rim of my head and down the taper, coming off with dull "pop." A sliver filament, thin as a spider's thread, stretched between my glans and her lips until it broke. and, again she extended her tongue as far as she could; troughed it to hold my cock like a hotdog in a bun, then worked her velvet bumps against the bottom of my shaft. Though her mouth was wet her tongue felt dry, almost like that of a cat, and as she raked my sensitive organ she tickled me into state of ecstasy.
Earlier that day, Stacy had given me head in the car and did it so well that I wondered if she had a natural talent. Claire's presentation told me that Stacy's performance was in the genes.
My body was quivering so much that I knew I wouldn't be able to hold back unless I got her mouth off my cock. So I took Claire's hands and helped her to her feet, hugged her to me, flattening her breasts on my chest and nuzzled her nose with mine, kissing her and holding her head to my chest long enough to quell my urge. "Take your clothes off Claire." I said, "It's time for me to repay your kindness."
She removed her sweatshirt and Levis like she was auditioning for a strip show. With her clothes off she pouted her full lips and slid her hands up and down her hips. I still wasn't sure of her age and guessed it in the mid 40's. She had had one child (Stacy) but no stretch marks, nor a C-section scar. Her lipstick had come off from kissing and sucking my cock and, truth be told, she looked even sexier and more appealing without it. Except for a small red birthmark shaped almost like a W on her left breast, in between the nipple and the top of her breast, and a slight pooch of her tummy, her body was almost perfectly proportioned (She later confirmed that her measurements were 34-24-34). Her breasts were still perky, nicely rounded on the bottom and her nipples and areolas were light pink. Her nipples, shaped like pencil erasers, were redder; they stood out just like an eraser on a new pencil. Her bush, darker than her hair, was trimmed to a perfect wedge with no loose curls. As I admired her body I absently stroked my cock.
Back to my purpose I gently commanded, "Lie down on the bed, Claire."
She folded back the brown chenille spread and vanilla wool blanket and lay down on the ecru sheet, eying me expectantly. Smiling, I stroking myself and milked the pause to see what she would do. She placed her palms on her soft, white belly, caressed her tummy then, emitting muffled moans held in her closed mouth, she smoothed her hands to her breasts. Holding the hollow of her palms to her nipple tips she extended her fingers to the expanse of her tits and drew them outward, closing her fingers on her nipples and rolling them (another muffled moan). Smoothing her flat hands down her sides and hips she spread her legs, smoothed her hands to her pussy, placed the middle finger of her right hand on her clitoris and opened her mouth into a tiny ova, emitting a long "oooh." Looking into my eyes she rocked her hips, closed her legs on her hand then longingly eyed my extended cock.
"That's enough Claire." I commanded, "I'll take care of that." Obediently, she moved her hand away. Grasping her ankles I turned her on the bed and she scootched her bottom to help. Pulling her further, until her ass was almost off the bed, I lowered myself to my knees. She whimpered like a puppy that was starving for attention, automatically raising her legs. I draped them over my shoulders and they broke at the knees, her feet resting on my back. She stiffened like a child awaiting a shot.
I pressed her delicately puffed lips with my thumbs and they opened with a tiny, wet "click." Her vulva, a light brownish pink, had long labia, it showed a substantial gash, which would accommodate a thick cock. Her clitoris was large, shaped like a lima bean, and, except for the tip which protruded about a sixteenth of an inch, was covered by a thin lambskin-like hood.
Claire's body, her breath whistling through her nostrils, became even more rigid, and, when I touched the tip of her clitoris with the tip of my tongue it was like a spark of static electricity. She jumped, wheezed a loud gasp and her whole body shuddered. I couldn't believe how excited she was, how pent up she must have been, and that she had orgasmed so unpredictably. Her body trembled as I covered her entire vulva with my mouth and laved her slick groove with my wet tongue. "Oh God Lance," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry... I've just needed this so badly." I caressed her breasts and, in my own desire, continued devouring her while allowing her to release her pressure through her tears. This brought her to another, less dramatic orgasm.
I had only been with a couple of women who experienced vaginal orgasms with me and didn't yet know if Claire would be one of those. The way she had been reacting though, with my mouth on her pussy, I imagined that she might be pretty wild in a fervent fuck. After the first jolt, it was one after another every couple of minutes, each one graduating in intensity...each one causing her to gasp just a little louder and her head to waggle more uncontrollably. My mouth had been on her pussy for almost half an hour and my tongue was getting tired. I attempted to lift my head but she said, "Please." I knew that she responded to dominant commands but I didn't want to break the magic. At one point I was surprised when she said, "You even do this better than a woman." I had been with many women who had complimented my cunilingual style but never to that degree. So, though tired, I'd been charmed into going the extra mile. But I needed a break.
Trying for one more thrill I eased her legs higher and brought my tongue to her perineum (the space between her anus and pussy) then lowered them and slid my tongue to her clitoris. She squealed in pleasure and I did it again, this time rimming her wrinkly anus and returning to her clitoris (another orgasm). I laid my head on her abdomen to let her settle then lifted her legs again, this time rimming her anus and probing it. Her cheeks clenched tightly and forced my tongue out. When the clench eased I spread her cheeks wide, compressed my lips on her rosebud and expelling into her ass, the large volume of saliva I had collected in my mouth. She exploded in a burst of orgasmic frenzy and cried out, "Fuck me Lance! Fuck me!" I was about to find out about vaginal orgasms.
Sometimes I think about what I experienced at Claire Moore's house in Denver and I wonder if it was really that exciting, that satisfying, that...perfect. Since I began writing about the experience the excitement has returned; I have been working in a virtual state of erection and confess that I have ejaculated numerous times. No other set of circumstance in my life has ever caused me to feel this way.
I had been constantly erect since we began kissing in the living room. Since staving off the near ejaculation, when Claire was sucking my cock, I had the feeling that I could fuck all night without coming. My phallus felt locked in a teen-like erection, the veins rising in blue relief and the mauve head tight as a drum, shining like a polished door knob.
I had lost count of the number of times Claire had come and, when she cried out for me to fuck her, I knew I needed to be inside her as badly as she wanted to feel my cock filling her. Rising from my knees I positioned myself with my right hand and used the fingers of my left to spread her lips. She had moved her ass deeper on to the bed, her legs were bent and spread, her feet were flat on the mattress. The large lips of her pussy, bright red from the constant kissing of my lips and licking of my tongue, had become swollen. It's hard not to idealize it. Each time Claire and had I fucked during my stay in her house was heavenly. But the first time was surreal; I remember each quarter inch. As my tapered head opened Claire's gash I felt like I'd been there before but I had never entered a pussy that felt like I was actually ordained to be there. Her pussy took me in so easily yet held me tight. Like Cinderella's slipper it was a perfect fit and we were both so eager to dance. As my hardness filled her we both gasped. For the first time in my life I felt like I was experiencing the woman's pleasure as well as mine.
Her hazel eyes had become saucers, widening as my cock seated inside her sheath. She held her arms up to me and, in the lager of her embrace, I nestled my body against her stomach and breasts. Hungrily, she kissed my glistening face, telling me how much she loved tasting herself on me and sniffing her scent. As she kissed me she wrapped her legs around my waist and the muscles of her vagina grasped my cock then relaxed as she whispered, "Fuck my cunt Lance."
Slowly, at first, I pumped my rod in and out of her slippery glove. Each thrust widened her eyes and educed a whimpered sigh. Then, I stepped up my thrusts and her sighs became "yes, Yes," and then "YES." Faster, my cock plunged, our abdomens slapping to throaty grunts, and withdrew each time to a rasping gasp. Her toes reached for the ceiling with each stab of my cock and her head waggled widely. Perspiration beaded above Claire's mouth and her jaws became tight as if she were trying to hold back.
"Come for me Claire," I commanded and the response was immediate. With her arms straight out she slapped the mattress, at the same time exploding a rasping shriek. Her arms froze flat against the mattress and her legs quivered like a dying animal. Her body quaked the shudder of an epileptic and her breath swooshed in and out between puckered lips and clenched teeth. Her body gave three violent jerks and her legs crushed me in their embrace, rolled my on my side and she finally relaxed.
I thought she had fallen asleep holding with her legs when, after about five minutes she said, "Your still hard Lance. Can't you come?"
I told her that I had been hard so long that I felt blocked. "But, maybe, if I masturbated and concentrated I could ejaculate."
"Can I watch you jack off," She asked.
With a broad smile I slid my hard cock from her slippery hole then straddled her belly and began jerking. Grunting, I felt myself loosen. She had raised her head, her eyes having never left my cock.
"Open your mouth, Claire," I commanded and she complied.
Clenching my teeth I felt something coming that I had never felt before. It felt like, after a raging rainstorm, the dam was going to burst...and it did. I had always come abundantly but this time, as the stream jetted from my slit, it still felt like it was being produced in my balls. I came in gouts, squirting into Claire's mouth and it sounding like a seltzer fountain filling a glass. She gagged, gulped and swallowed...three times.
She was exhausted and, after spooning with me for about fifteen minutes, fell into a deep sleep. I was happy; satisfied with the most fantastic sex I had ever experience. But, after the my busy day: being sucked off by Stacy in the car, jacking off twice with the red panties she left with me, and making love to Claire with what seemed a terminal erection, my balls ached and I needed sleep.