Denise

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A neighbour started flirting with him.
1.6k words
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Ashson
Ashson
8,552 Followers

I was big man and a lot of it was muscle. Some of the bigness just came naturally but the muscle came from hard work. As I was growing I discovered that the trouble with being a big person was that you were the natural target for anyone who wanted to make a name. I got into a number of fights, some of which I won and some of which I didn't. Being a rather peaceful chap I sought advice from my father as to what I should do. His advice was counterintuitive.

"Learn martial arts," he told me.

"Dad, I want to avoid fights. Not have them," I pointed out.

"Then learn martial arts. If you're good at it you can stop someone who want to beat on you a lot more easily and with a lot less damage than if you're untrained. On top of that if you fight in a few tournaments the word will get out and the idiots will steer clear."

So that's what I did. One thing I learnt was that a good big man will generally defeat a smaller man with the same skill. Size does count. Another thing was that a smaller but more highly skilled man could still kick my butt. Skill also counts.

The meaningless schoolboy fights came to an abrupt halt when I demonstrated how easily I could defeat Charlie, a hulking brute of a boy who loved to get into fights. I just danced around him, putting him on his back every time he took a swing at me. I totally humiliated him, seeing I was laughing the whole time. Physically he wasn't hurt but his pride sure took a beating.

I was now in my early thirties and still doing the training. I was actually good enough to act as an assistant sensei for the junior grades.

I wasn't what could be considered God's gift to women. If I had to stand in that queue I'd be way up at the tail end. Looks wise I had a closer resemblance to a gorilla that to a lothario. For all that I had had my successes with the ladies and never seemed to be short of a girlfriend. I hadn't yet met one who made me think of settling down but time would tell.

Recent event left me wondering. Where women were concerned, was I a successful hunter or the unsuspecting prey?

Enter Denise. She was a pretty little thing. Only a little over five feet in height and slender with it. Dress her in a fairy outfit and all the kids would be yelling, "We believe in fairies." She was around twenty five, married and lived a few door up from me. I would see her occasionally, in the street, in her yard, or at the mall. Being polite, and because she was a pretty little thing, I'd always say hullo and get a nod or hullo in return.

Now it seemed I was seeing her every day and instead of just saying hullo she'd stop and chat. Only about inconsequential but every time she'd stop and talk.

After a while it seemed to me that her clothes were different. Tighter, maybe? Certainly showing more cleavage than she used to. That cleavage was interesting in its own way. I spotted her while I was walking through the mall and I was prepared to swear that she was showing no cleavage, yet when we eventually met, lo and behold, some very nice cleavage.

I started finding double meanings in the things she was saying. Was she flirting with me? It appeared that the answer to that was yes, and it was quite a surprise to me. Just how far did she mean her flirting to go?

It was Saturday afternoon and I'd been watering my garden when Denise came by. I don't have a front fence so she just strolled right up to me and started chatting, telling me how much she admired my garden. I thanked her, as I was quite proud of it. I'd put some substantial effort into it and it was looking good.

I finished up taking her for a tour of the garden, which included the back yard, as I had additional garden beds there. She was dutifully admiring and flattering as we strolled around. Things changed about halfway through the tour.

I turned towards her to point something out and found she was standing a lot closer than I thought. She was right there next to me in my personal space and my gesture to where I wanted her to look found my hand landing on her breast. Did I mention that she had quite substantial breasts? 'C' cups at least, and those on a very petite frame.

I naturally pulled my hand back quickly, apologising profusely. Ha! Fat chance. I just naturally enjoyed the weighty feel of that breast. For her part Denise just stood there, blushing slightly, but making no effort to push my hand away.

I reluctantly took my hand away and not so reluctantly made a request.

"Take your clothes off," I told her.

Her blush deepened slightly but all she said was, "Really, Martin," in a mildly protesting voice.

"Yes, really," I replied, and waited.

"But we're outside," she pointed out.

Not a refusal, as such. Just reminding me of where we were.

"I know. We're also completely private as the fences and trees around the yard prevent anyone from seeing in. Your clothes."

She looked around the yard. Looked everywhere but at me, then started undoing the buttons on her shirt. I waited quietly, not wanting to say anything that might make her change her mind. Shirt and bra were removed and dropped to the side. A deep breath and she was unfastening her shorts, sliding them down, and stepping out of them. Her hands fastened onto her panties and then she paused and looked at me. I was simply watching, an expectant look on my face and, with another big breath, she slipped her panties down, stepping daintily out of them.

She stood there, hands behind her back, while I enjoyed the scenery. She really was quite lovely, especially dressed the way she was. As she watched I undid my trousers and slid them and my undies down.

She took another deep breath as she looked at my erection, a look of lust flashing across her face.

I placed my hand on her shoulders and pressed down. She slowly sank to her knees, my erection swaying right in front of her. Her hand took hold of my erection and then her mouth closed over it. It quickly became evident to me that this was her area of expertise. Teeth, tongue, and lips, they all came into play, as did her hand, which decided to play with my testicles.

For a short while I thought she was trying to drive me insane, to get me off in the fastest time possible. Slowly it registered that she wasn't trying to get me off at all. She was just priming the pump, as it were, getting me ready for the long haul.

I finished up pushing her off and looking at her, my own breathing somewhat hoarse.

"I want you on your hands and knees," I told her. "Then I'm going to take you, hard and fast, brutal almost."

Denise was scrabbling around to take up the required position even before I'd stopped talking. I settled down behind her, lining up ready to drive home. She went dead still as she felt my cock pressing against her, then I was roughly pushing past her lips and driving in deep.

She gave a small scream as I drove in, but it sounded like one of affirmation rather than protest. I like to consider myself to be a generous lover, taking the time to make sure that my partner was just as much into what we were doing as I was. For some reason I didn't think Denise wanted that sort of thing. The vibes I got from her was that she wanted it rough and tough and so that's what I gave her.

I had my hands on her hips, helping to pull her towards me as I pounded into her. She was full of gasps, and squeaks, and squeals, and little cries of yes. I don't know what fantasy was playing out in her mind but whatever it was it had her absolutely turned on and receptive.

(As a side note - her breasts, surprisingly big on her small frame, were swinging back and forth as I drove into her. I could see them flopping about and that simply tended to make me hornier than ever.)

For all that I was playing at the muscle-head, chest-beating, roughneck, I was also making sure I dragged it out. I was enjoying myself, the friction of my cock in her passage doing all sorts of delightful things to me and I saw no need for an early exit.

When I did finally see signs that she was building up to a climax I hopped to and did my earnest best to make sure that she reached that point. Then I was cutting loose and she fell silent, shuddering as she climaxed. (That surprised me. I'd have thought she'd be a screamer considering the way she carried on during the action.)

She dressed quickly and went on her way, a happy little smile on her face. I settled back to see how this affair would play out.

It didn't. The next time I saw Denise she smiled and said hullo and continued on her way. Just like that she was back to the old Denise who would smile and nod as we passed, neighbours who were practically strangers. I'm still scratching my head over the whole incident. So many questions, so few answers. I suspect that I was taken advantage of, but I'm not the type to complain. I'll just keep my eye out to see if any other young ladies want to take advantage of me.

Ashson
Ashson
8,552 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
Slightly different twist on your usual

Always read and enjoy your stories. Found this interesting for a number of reasons. Agree with one reader who thought it may have been rushed - there was an unusual number of typos and missing words. Just a thought on the Anonymous comments: I’m a member of Lit, but when just reading, never sign in, lazy I know, but there may be others like me.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
Why is it

that some pious prats assign negative motives to people who, for a variety of reasons, may prefer to remain anonymous??

Personally i would say to ANYONE who is rude or abusive about a story on Literotica, if you really think so badly about a writer, or a theme - why on earth are you reading it in the first place?

There are classifications that, when I see the author has assigned a story to it, I just don't bother even opening it.

The only time I do get upset is that I think if you wish people to spend THEIR time reading what YOU have written then you must offer them a well written, and PROOF READ, story.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
Why is this in LW as no one is even married?

N/t

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
Dan October

Don't be stupid. YOU are anonymous, too, unless that's your real name. If it is, you're an idiot. The comments from anons with "handles" are no better or worse than the comments of those who don't care to end up in a database. Grow the fuck up.

BTW, not a bad little story.

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