|Maggie Redux Ch. III
by Whiff ©
She sat listening to the minister drone on, something about God's retribution for sin, a prelude to an appeal for a larger target for the annual fund drive. Church has a goddamn trust fund that could build a whole new building, she thought, and he wants us to beef up the pitch. Suddenly it seemed so dreary, so suffocating. She wanted to run out the door, rip off her clothes, and go singing down the street. She felt so happy, so well fucked.
His weight. That was a surprise. Heavier than Eddie had been, probably all that kid's muscle from working out, trying to bulk up for football. And he had held off so well, maybe he'd gotten laid the night before, but so what? He got it up again nice and quick, and she had three great cums the second time. Man, had she been horny. Lordy, she wondered, what am I getting myself in for? She thought through his age, and guessed his mother was probably a little younger than she was. There was a picture in her mind of a dowdy, heavy set woman with a prim, prunish face.
As the minister began discussing who would be in a position to increase their tithing, she was mostly wondering how to keep it a secret. She didn't think it was illegal, because he was eighteen, though she wasn't exactly sure of the statuatory rape ages here. It was terribly risky during the day, for all she knew one of the neighbors might have seen them today. She thought it would be easier at night, and she'd always kept her windows drawn in the kitchen and bedroom anyway, so all she had to do was draw the blind on that one in the hall, and he could get to her bedroom without being seen from outside. But a small part of her wondered if maybe she was just another notch on his gun, just a bragging piece of tail.
No, no he had kept repeating he loved her. And that poem. But how could it end? He'd get tired of her, and want to tell someone. Maybe he'd try to get her to put out for his buddies. Well, fuck that. It would be his word against hers, and he had to think about keeping straight so he wouldn't have a problem getting into school. Shit, don't look for trouble, Maggie. How did she feel about him? It had been very tender, very sweet. He really tried, and made up for his inexperience with enthusiasm. A little coaching and he'd be a good cunt eater. She knew he had been surprised by her clitty. Went wild down there, she had to pull him away. Damn, it was nice to feel loved again.
She ended up on Mrs. Slocum's committee, and they put her in charge of the Police Department. Surprise, surprise. Just once she'd like to see what some of those honky businessmen would do if she came in their offices, crossed her legs, flashed a little tit, and asked them for money. Alma chuckled as she drove them home. "Wha' fo we show up, dey give us da same job evy' year." It was always fun to drop into the old funky talk when they were together.
"Yo sho is quiet, baby. Sumpin on yo mind?" Maggie smiled and grunted "Tinkin da same ting mahself, honey. Honky ho's, playin da sho tings. Ahh, fuck it." Waving goodbye, as the car pulled the hundred yards down the street to her small brick two story. It was never a sure thing that Alma's old Buick would make the round trip, but she always insisted on sharing the driving. Tonight was the first night in a long time that Maggie hadn't worried about it.
She flipped off the porch light as she locked the door, and went toward the kitchen for a beer. Man, she'd sleep well tonight. But even before she got there, she heard a gentle rapping. Oh jesus, he was at the back door. She didn't turn the kitchen light on. Slipping the door open with the safety clasp still in place, she whispered "Anybody there?"
His voice quavering, he answered "Hey Maggie, uh, it's me."
She was surprised to feel her stomach flip, and a thrill run down her spine. Ah youth, she thought as she opened the door, pulled him into her arms, and pressed against him while closing the door again. "Hey, baby. Back so soon? Didn't I wear you out this morning?" In the dim shadows his face showed a flinch of fear. "Ah geez, Maggie, I, well, I mean I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. I mean, we don't have to, you know, do anything, if you don't......" She smiled and put her hand behind his head. He felt tentative when their lips met, but as she opened her mouth, sucked, and began tonguing him, he relaxed, and pulled her tight. She felt his cock hardening. He smelled nice and clean, and had a fruity cologne on. Her mind jumped to the half empty bottle of musky stuff Eddie had always used, and she giggled with the thought of having Bill wear it. Wonder what other people would think if he wore it all the time?
She felt nice and warm, surrounded, protected in his strong embrace. You couldn't tell he was white, or young, in this light, she thought, he was just a man, wanting her, needing her body. She relaxed to the kiss, letting it go on and on. Finally, she pulled back, breathing hard. He had the look. Hot, horny, ready to go. "Reach behind and unzip me, Bill. This ol' dress makes me look like an old woman." He grinned as he fumbled around.
"Oh Maggie" he groaned.
She realized she had been thinking this might happen when she found just her short black slip all she had put on. No bra, no panties. She still had the diaphragm in. A surge of lust ran down her stomach and into her pussy. Her young stud. Her hot cunt. She grabbed his ass, and pulled him into her. He groaned, nicely, she felt, making her feel wanted. Again. Mmmmm.
Billy Warren thought he was in heaven. Her smell was kind of a combination of this morning after she showered and her sweaty, after run odor. He felt her doing something with one hand, and when he pulled slightly away, realized she had let her hair down, framing her face, smiling as her hand dipped down between their bodies, and grabbed his pulsing cock. He felt excitement start to build, and humped gently into her hand. She giggled, and breathed "Easy honey, no hurry now, c'mon."
As she pulled him toward the bedroom, she stopped him and pulled a blind down on one window. As they entered the dark room, just a bit of moonlight slanting in one window, she spoke right out loud. "Now baby, lets just take our time, okay? You were out of your mind this morning, I mean I know how it feels, I felt it too, but we're gonna fuck, you don't have to worry." She dropped into a negro jargon. "Yo' gonna get a piece o' my black ass, honey. Strip yo' fine se'f fo' action, stud muffin. Ah's gonn git some candles."
He watched her lush body, just a shadow, really, as she rooted in a drawer of the dresser, found something, then placed some candles from a little shelf by the door on the bedside tables, and on the dresser, lighting each with the butane flame. Then she flipped the lighter back into the open drawer, and stood at the bottom of the bed, eyeing his now naked body, with the tool straight up, the dim light just enough for him to see her in soft relief. Crossing her arms, she pulled the black slip up over her head.
He groaned when he realized she was nude under the frilly thing, the huge triangle between her thighs blinking in the candlelight. She cupped both hands under those huge tits, and pumped them, the jiggling barely visible, as he heard her chuckle. "Hell, honey, they're big and heavy, an' I'm damn near fifty. So they sag. I work my pecs, y'know, but still...." He whispered into the soft darkness "Oh Maggie, they're beautiful, you're beautiful, I love you, oh Maggie."
He could see a big smile on her face as she crawled up between his legs. Then her head dropped down to his pecker, her hair tickling his thighs, and swallowed it. All the way. Right down to the hair. He sucked in a breath, the image of Kelly with just a couple of inches in her mouth, thinking she was so brave, not really enjoying it, blinking in and out of his consciousness. He heard and felt humming as she swallowed, and he humped up, grunting. She released him, and wiggled up beside him.
Her kiss reminded him of the morning, open mouth, sucking his tongue into her, hers lashing around, as he grabbed one boob. God it was soft. She moaned "Oh baby, baby, look, get down there, eat my hot pussy now, get me wet honey. You can play with my titties while you do it. Now listen, jus' cover it, and suck light. Yeah, yeah. Stick your tongue in there, pump a little, ummm, yes." He felt the squeezing of his tongue as he tried to move it, in and out, fighting with her muscles, yet feeling it begin to ooze, tasting more of her, lost in want for her. "Now lick up to that clit, baby, just flick it, y'know, just light, nice, nice, now suck it Billy. Yeahhhhh. Suck it baby, oh baby, oh baaaaaaaby."
Her hips were gyrating, in small, intense spasms. A flood of cream filled his mouth. Her nipples were like nails in his palms as he kneaded them. She humped for a couple of minutes, then relaxed, her hand rubbing the back of his head as she fussed with the pillow that had gotten out from under her head. "See, baby, that's the way. You start out gentle, then get me off with it. Makes me wet as hell, and anyway I love it. Now c'mon baby. You still hard, oh yeah, still good, go ahead, need help, nah, there, don't be shy, honey, fuck that nigger twat, pump, baby, pump."
He winced when she used that word. Somehow, he'd always been ashamed when he thought of her with that word in his mind. She laughed. "Hey baby, we're lovers, honey, and nasty words are part of the fun. You can call me a nigger whore, or whatever. Long as you fuck me good, honey. Long as that big cock fills Mama's cunt." There was a long pause as he stroked, trying to be smooth, pressing hard when he bottomed, wanting to make her happy. They kissed, groaned, humped. Then her voice filled his heart as he realized his cum was near, whispering "And you do, baby. You fill your hot Mama's soul. Ahhhhhhh."
It was actually the first time he clearly remembered getting off with her. She went nuts under him, squirming and wiggling, but her hips always keeping the rhythm of their bodies, watching his eyes, almost seeming to time it so she went off as he did. As it happened, that wonderful explosion, draining his whole body into her, somehow, her eyes lidded, he felt hard, urgent bumps of her hips, and she nearly screamed. "Biiiiiiilllllleeeeeee."
As he collapsed on her, trying to roll off, but feeling her hands hold him there, hearing her hard gasping, feeling wet as hell in his groin, that lassitude his orgasms with her seemed to create made him swoon. He loved that word, swoon. All the poets used it. Now, he knew what they meant. Losing yourself in your lover. Going blank. His mind started to write a new poem.
Jenny bit her lip to keep from screaming as the two fingers under her skirt punished her cunt. That's so hot, she thought, as her orgasm, that seemed so trivial compared with what she had just seen between Maggie and Billy, washed over her. It was so sexy, peeking under the window blind, on her tiptoes here in the dark. Oh my, I'm leaking again, she thought, pulling up her panties that had the little "soft days" menstrual pad in the crotch. But she kept her hand down there, waiting for her cream to stop flowing. It took a long time.
- Interlude -
She sighed with pleasure as she listened to his deep, exhausted breathing beside her, feeling the thick product of their love making leak down her ass onto the sheets. She was laundering sheets every other day, they always made a mess, it seemed. Friday night, she thought. He had been so excited, the winning touchdown, Maggie, a flat pass and I carried three of them in with me. Fuck the party, I need Mama's sweet lovin'.
She'd been here before, the wild...exciting urgency of a new love. Even once that year Eddie served in Pakistan, the Wall Street broker, burned up the railroad on weekends for six months. Now there was a cock. But he gave up the talk about leaving New York when she told him she wouldn't leave Eddie. It turned out they didn't have that much fun, except in bed.
Still, she felt a little edgy. People would notice he wasn't at the party, especially if he was the hero. He'd be questioned, there'd be talk, it'd be different if he wasn't here every night. Her body felt like a million dollars, she thought there was an actual physical effect from being so satisfied, her times were faster in the morning, she had done fifteen reps on the ab machine, her best ever. She knew there was a bounce in her step, could hear the lilt in her voice. Alma had tried to bring it up the other night, and she'd jived about a new vibrator.
Billy was so giddy. Some of the poems were so sappy, swooning for christ's sake. What was that shit? Yet she could see he was getting better at it, less rigid about the lines, more feeling, getting the idea of a syncopating rhythm, she had made him recite one as they danced that time. His latest was better, he had read it to her just last night.
"Easy whispers in the dark, warm, happy glow in my heart.
but sweet, and sincere. It was tempting to encourage him, but poets don't
make any money, and besides he didn't seem to have the intellectual staying
power that sort of career would require. It always made her feel good,
though. No one had ever written poetry for her before. A little late in
the day, Maggie, but better late than never, huh? She was startled when
she felt a tear run down her cheek.
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