Little Dog Lost Pt. 01byRichardHardy©
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Click Here to listen. (5.5 min/mp3)
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First off, this text is not what you'll hear when you open the audio file. Personally, I like to be stimulated between my ears as well as between my legs, so this is provided as a set up to tell you what you'll be hearing. Unless you're in a hurry, in which case you've already skipped to the audio.
I guess you could say I have a little dog to thank.
"Margaret" (I've changed all the names to protect myself, mainly) is an attractive enough lady who lives next door. Mid to late 60s, I'm guessing here, dresses nicely, a REALTOR who hasn't made any big bucks but still manages to do alright for herself, Margaret and I actually don't get along all that well. She'll smile a very forced looking smile when she sees me and give me that dismissive princess wave, but she's just not very downright neighborly. But that's ok, this isn't about Margaret. It's about her daughter, "Jennifer."
Jenny, as she likes to be called -- and not JennyLee as her mother refers to her ("Too damn Arkansas!" Jenny says) is a compact little package of surprises. Unlike her mother, she's always been friendly to me when we should chance to meet in the yard or walking the cul-de-sac. She's about 5'4", kind of a short torso but very full and fleshy in the chest department. She knows it's her best asset and likes to wear scoop neck tops that show a lot of cleavage and this dirty old man has been caught admiring it more than once. Her hair is what I used to call "contemporary skunk" -- blonde over dark -- but it's a popular look here in southern Arkansas, so I've adjusted.
Jenny has tried a little bit of everything since graduating from high school and, while I don't really know her age, I suspect she's about 28 or 29 -- under 30 anyway. She married her prom date who has, as Margaret once told me, "fully lived up to my expectations of being a nothing." I'm not even going to bother to make up a name for him here. All I know is that he's a guard or something at the regional correction center in Texarkana, about an hour and a half down I-30.
Jenny had gone to cosmetology school and cut hair for awhile before her mom talked her into getting a real estate license. She tried that off and on for a few years before going to massage school where she had become a licensed massage therapist. The last I'd heard she was working in Prescott.
Anyway, I was having a dull Saturday. I'd just showered and done a little "manscaping," even though it had been awhile since anyone had seen the "yard." (When you trim the hedges, it makes the tree look bigger. Just saying.) Spring had not turned out to be much better than the crappy winter that preceded it and I was bored out of my gourd. I was sitting around in a pair of running shorts and surfing the Internet when I got messaged by an online friend with whom I had shared some "intimate" conversations. (I wish she would let me record them but, so far, no such luck.) We started chatting and I found myself becoming aroused by the conversation. I should mention that my friend is a buxom redhead who has shared images of her breasts with me. My imagination was alive with those soft, full breasts capped with smooth pink nipples. I had been absentmindedly stroking my hardening cock through my running shorts for some time, hoping our text foreplay would give way to some loud and satisfying aural sex, when someone began ringing my doorbell frantically, then beating on the door.
I excused myself from my computer friend, shutting the lid of my laptop and grabbed a t-shirt. Jenny was on my front stoop, breathing heavily and somewhat panicked.
"Have you seen Alfie?" she asked me. "He got out and I can't find him and mom's gonna kill me."
Alfie was Margaret's little -- oh hell, I don't know -- 12 pound bundle of fur that she called a dog. As far as I'm concerned, you can't really call it a dog until it's at least 30 pounds. Til then, it's just a cat with an attitude. But Margaret loved the dog and spoiled it like a child. I'd offered to take care of it when she was out of town so that Jenny wouldn't have to drive down from Hope, but Margaret never took me up on my offer. She said she didn't want to inconvenience me, but I think it was because she knew I voted for Obama. With Margaret out of town, Jenny was watching the dog.
Jenny's eyes were huge as she looked hopefully at me. I, of course, hadn't seen the dog, but I offered to put on some jeans and help her look. She looked a little dressed up to be dog sitting. Nice jeans, a tight, low top. I suspected her tan was sprayed on but it looked great on her exposed cleavage. I tried to cover my semi hard-on as I invited her in while I put my pants on. She said she'd be outside looking.
We combed the block, whistling and calling for Alfie, but to no avail. She told me she was supposed to be going to a bachelorette party for a friend of hers and had come to the house to shower and get ready. As she was drying her hair, she realized the front door was standing open and Alfie had escaped.
Fortunately, we didn't find his furry little body in the street. After about 20 minutes, I suggested we go back to her mom's house and get the bag of Alfie's food. If he heard us shaking the bag, I reasoned, he might come running.
We went back to her mom's house and got the bag of food from a counter in the kitchen. It wasn't two seconds before we heard the pitter patter of little dog feet. Alfie walked into the kitchen, tail wagging.
Jenny was torn between happiness and anger. Apparently, he hadn't left the house at all -- or had gone out and come back in before she noticed the door was open. She apologized for getting me out on a Saturday for a wild goose chase and asked how she could make it up to me.
"No charge," I told her. "Just give me a discount massage next time I'm passing through Prescott."
"Discount, hell!" she said. "I'll give you a freebie right now if you want one."
I laughed even as my cock readjusted itself in my jeans. The statement had definite sexual overtones. But I wasn't about to try anything in her mother's house. Even though I'd never noticed how turquoise her eyes were before.
"I don't think I'd be comfortable laying facedown and drooling on your mother's furniture," I said.
"Let me feed the dog," she said, "and I'll meet you back at your place."
I may be a fool, but I'm not a damnfool. I went back to my place to tidy up my bedroom before she got there.
It didn't take her long. She came in with some lotions and oils she'd scrounged from her car and asked if I had an old t-shirt so she wouldn't ruin what she was wearing. I'm over 6 feet tall and about 200 pound. I was sure any shirt I had would fit her like a dress but I got her one of my old dress shirts. That was for me. As far as I'm concerned, you can spend two thousand dollars at Victoria's Secret and still not find anything sexier on a woman than a man's dress shirt.
She got a bowl out of the kitchen and ran some hot water into it. She then floated the bottles in the water to warm them.
As I handed her the shirt, I asked her what she wanted me to wear. "As little as you're comfortable with," she answered, smiling.
I went in the bathroom and stripped down, wrapping myself in a towel before walking into the bedroom. "Hope I don't fall asleep on you," I yelled into the other room, mainly to cover the sound of my opening my nightstand drawer and hitting the record button on the digital recorder. On the middle quality setting, I knew I could get four and a half hours that I could edit down later. I didn't know what was coming, but I wanted to be prepared. (I left the drawer slightly open which probably affected the sound quality somewhat but I'm happy with it.)
Jenny walked in wearing my dress shirt, tied in a knot under those full breasts. She was rolling the sleeves up. I could tell the way her breasts were moving, she had taken off her bra. "Do you have any candles?" she asked.
We lit candles until the bedroom was awash in golden flickering light. I laid on my stomach and put pillows on either side of my face. The anticipation pricked my skin like invisible needles. I heard a zipper and the rustle of cloth and turned my head in time to see Jenny hang her jeans over the edge of the open drawer. If she saw the red light on the recorder, she didn't say anything about it.
She had the thinnest wisp of lavender lace panties. I felt her naked skin against my legs as she straddled me and began working her hands over my shoulders and neck. She paused to pour some oil on her hands, warming it for a moment before she resumed working on my back. I groaned in pleasure.
She brushed my hair away from my neck and started working with skilled hands. Neck. Shoulders. Back. Arms. I probably groaned deeper and longer with each part she massaged. As she got to my lower back, Jenny leaned forward and applied more pressure. This brought her face close to my neck.
"You like?" she whispered. I moaned an affirmative. "Me too," she said. "No health department regulations."
I didn't have time to wonder what she meant. Her hands slipped under the towel and began kneading my butt.
"Nice," she purred. "Are you a runner?"
I wanted to say, No. My knees couldn't stand up to running. But I liked to bicycle when I could. I wanted to say that. My mouth went, "Naaaaaaaa..."
She worked her hands down each leg, massaging my thigh, knee and calf. Since I'm prone to leg cramps, I loved the feeling of total relaxation she brought me. Then she massaged each foot. Jesus God Almighty! And I thought sex was good.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she said two words that changed the playing field.
I lifted my head. "Ummmm..." I had been afraid of falling asleep. Quite the opposite had happened. I was now sporting wood that would have made my teenaged self proud. "Ok, there's something I need to tell you..."
Jenny giggled. "Good," she said. "I was afraid I'd lost my touch."
I rolled over. The towel fell completely away.
Jenny started rubbing my thighs, but she wasn't looking at them. "Wow," she whispered.
All thoughts of a full body massage went out the window at that point.
Jenny wrapped both her hands around my cock. Her small oily hands almost made me cum as she squeezed my shaft. She looked at my face and smiled the most interesting smile I'd ever seen: Part honky-tonk sinner, part angelic innocence. Her dark hair framed her face while the lighter blonde hair seemed to reflect the candlelight. I put one pillow on top of the other so I could sit up and watch her. She looked down at my dress shirt, now spotted with oil and lotion. I could see her hard nipples through the fabric, her breasts rising and falling with her quickening breath. She looped a finger in the big knot and pulled it loose. Then she slowly pulled back the shirt to reveal her left breast.
There was no tan line, enhancing my suspicion that it had been sprayed on. But the breast was gorgeous, dropping slightly in a smooth pear shape. Her nipples were huge and pink with a darker color outlining the aureole. She cupped it for me, pinched the nipple and we moaned together. Then she returned her hand to my cock.
As I watched, she slid her body down, lowering her face, eyes watching mine, until her mouth was so close to my cock that I could feel her breath. Her eyes shifted then. She placed one hand flat on the top of my cock and slowly slid her tongue from my balls to my glans.
What followed was the most erotic blowjob I've ever been on the receiving end of and you'll hear it all on the audio -- her licking, sucking, kissing and my responses of pleasure. She told me later that it was the way I responded that kept her teasing me so long with her mouth. I guess her husband's idea of sex is to have her suck it until he's hard and then jerk off all over her tits. She liked how I made her feel -- not so much empowered as appreciated.
You'll hear her control everything, increasing speed and urgency until I explode in her mouth. Well, mostly. There was so much and it came out so fast that she couldn't handle it all. She let my cum run back out of her mouth onto my stomach and trimmed pubes and we both chuckled at that point. You'll hear her reaction. Then she did what I think is the sexiest thing a woman can do after sex: She licked me clean and swallowed every drop.
Now, if you think I'm a sexist pig for letting her do all that without reciprocating, don't. She stepped out into the backyard for a cigarette and I slipped into the bathroom to take one of the sample Viagras that my doctor had given me at my last physical. She wasn't going home unsatisfied. (Yes, I recorded the encounter and it will follow shortly.)
I pulled on some jeans, ordered us a pizza and opened a bottle of wine. As we sipped the merlot and waited for the delivery, Jenny confessed to me that she knew where the dog was all along. Alfie HAD gotten out, just like she said, but she'd caught up with him outside my window. I guess my blinds weren't completely closed. She'd seen me on my computer, stroking my cock through my running shorts, and decided to interrupt me before I wasted it.
I kissed her for the first time as we sat on the couch. She smelled of perfume, body oil and cigarette smoke and tasted of tobacco and merlot. I slid my hand down her body and slipped my fingers into her panties. She was soaked. She put a hand on top on mine and shook her head just a little bit. "I'm happy with what we just did," she whispered.
I took my fingers out of her pussy and brought them to my lips, sucking her dew off my fingertips. "I'm not," I told her.
But I'm getting ahead of myself....