Dogwalkers

"You live together?"

"Yeah, we share a house. He manages to travel a lot. Like, he's gone this week, and then the week after next. It's fuckin' fine with me. We're done, and we both know it."

"Do you have kids?" I asked her.

"Thank God, no," she said. "Imagine putting them through this. Do you?"

"No," I said.

"So when was the last time you got laid?"

"What?"

She pointed to my erection and cocked an eyebrow.

"Been a while, I guess."

"Don't mind me," she said. "I tend to say what I'm thinking." I felt oddly comfortable and unembarrassed with her and her way of acknowledging the obvious.

"Yeah, okay. It was a fair enough question." I decided not to ask if she was still fucking her husband. "I've never been a big one for chasing women and that whole thing. So, yeah, it's been a while."

"That's sweet," she said.

"The fact is, I am standing here naked with a beautiful woman, who is also naked, and I guess nature is just doing what it does." Again my hand took a good slow tug at my aching penis. "Don't take it wrong."

"Oh, no," she said, "No problem. Actually, I'm kind of glad to know that nature likes me."

"Well at least you don't seem to have goosebumps any more," I said, changing the subject.

She looked down at herself. In a move that sort of mirrored mine, she pinched her nipple and looked at it. Both were standing up hard. "Yeah, no goosebumps," she said, "But I am still freezing in here. Aren't you cold?"

"I got here quite a while before you, so I've had some time to warm up," I said. "It's not too bad now. Man, listen to that." And we paused to listen to the pounding rain, the howling wind, thunder crashing randomly all around us. "I didn't realize this was coming," I said. "It got me totally by surprise."

"Me too," she said. "I tried standing under a big tree but that didn't help, and then this place looked deserted. Hey, you know, you don't have to stand over there. This little, uh, whatever it is, is big enough for both of us. Make yourself comfortable." She patted the cushion beside herself.

I sat beside her. There was not much room between us. I placed the paint bucket in front of me and put my feet on it, with the Washington Monument in my lap. "This was my footstool before you got here," I said, leaning back comfortably.

"Huh, good idea," she said. A deafening thunderclap came simultaneously with a blinding lightning bolt. "Holy shit," she said. "That was close."

We sat for a minute and then she said, "Did you say your name was Doc?" I nodded. "So, are you a doctor?"

"I am not a physician," I said. "But I have a PhD and so people started calling me that."

"Huh, a smart guy, I guess, huh?" We sat side by side for a minute, then she said, "I'm freezing. Are your hands warmed up yet?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Could you please rub my arms and shoulders and help me warm up a little?"

By now my hard-on was at the stage we call "raging." She glanced down at it and did not say anything.

"Sure, I can try," I said.

I turned toward her on the sofa, well really it was a love-seat, and reached across her body to rub her right arm with my left hand. I rubbed her upper arm. "Is that okay? Is my hand warm enough? I can feel little goosebumps even though I can't see them."

"Actually, yes, it feels great." I rubbed up to her shoulder and down her forearm to her hand.

"Your fingers are freezing," I commented, and I worked on them, rubbing to create friction. Then back up her arm. I noticed that my arm rubbed across her nipple as I moved. My cock jumped each time that happened, and I tried not to think about it. It would twang and slap back against her thigh, and thinking back I'm sure she felt that but she did not react visibly.

I leaned back and worked on her left arm similarly. Up to the shoulder, down to the fingers. I felt her relax and also I think we both felt a kind of closeness forming between us.

"I hate to say it," she said, "But my toes are freezing."

"Hmm," I looked at her, trying to figure out what to do. I could not reach her toes from the couch cushion. I pushed the paint can toward her and said, "Put your foot on this."

Rosa lifted her left leg and set her foot on the plastic can. I still could not reach it from the couch. I got up and stood in front of her, measuring the situation, then knelt on the floor in front of her. Her right leg was bent and her left was extended on the bucket.

"Is that okay?" she asked.

"Yes, it's perfect." I took her toes in my fingers. They really were chilled. She had had a recent pedicure, it appeared, with pale pink polish. I'm not a "foot man," you know, but this was a beautiful petite foot. I went over her toes one by one. "Does that tickle?" I asked her.

"A little," she said, "But I like it."

You know how it goes when you're a good scout trying to help a lady in distress stay safe and warm in a storm: toes led to the sole of her foot, then to her ankle. My cock was dribbling on the floor and my heart was pounding. An ankle led to a calf and I rubbed and kneaded. A calf led to a knee. She giggled at that point, and jumped, and said, "That feels nice." A knee led to a creamy, firm thigh. I rubbed the outside of it, and the inside, higher and higher.

"Okay, give me the other one," I said.

"Oh." There was genuine disappointment in her voice. Well I had a job to do here.

She put the other foot on the bucket, leaving the first leg extended. Now I was kneeling between her open legs. I faced away from her to work on those beautiful toes, and then that amazing ankle. I turned to massage her alluring calf, stroking and rubbing, warming her body. I was gentle with her knee, and then I was squeezing and kneading the satin of her thigh and gazing at the swollen lips of her pussy. She was panting a little bit and had her eyes closed. I was pretty sure we were seeing this the same way.

I kneaded her thigh, moving up from the knee, working the outside then the firm meat of her inner thigh. At this point my normal shyness, or gentlemanliness, or whatever, was out the window and my dick was like a length of leaky pipe. I massaged higher on her thigh until my fingers were brushing her pubic hair.

I am a fan of pubic hair, by the way. I think it looks stupid when an adult woman has a pussy that looks like a baby's. And it is even dumber when they shave little landing strips and patterns in it. This is not a fashion show, this is a woman's sex, and it should be treated with love and respect.

My fingers tickled her pubic hair and I continued to massage up into the crease between her leg and her hip, until my fingers were brushing against her labia. My face was inches away, watching intently, and the smell that was emanating from her was like a musky perfume.

I didn't ask. I lifted her leg and placed it on my shoulder, then put the other leg on my other shoulder. She moaned softly as a statement of assent, and I lowered my mouth to her pussy.

I did not fuck around. I opened my mouth and took her tender flesh between my lips and sucked softly on it, bringing her labia into the interior of my mouth. There, I tapped and tickled with my tongue, licking while I sucked on her. I felt her hand on the back of my head, just resting there, not pushing but perhaps ensuring that it wouldn't be too much. I was not in the mood for holding back, though. I released her flesh and then pointed my tongue and drove it between her labia, licking forward until I felt the hard bead of her clitoris, and I went to work on it. I tapped it lightly and then harder, and then broadened my tongue and lapped vigorously at it, and there she went. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me it, ramming her pussy against my mouth, humping my face while she erupted in orgasm.

I felt her legs trying to close and she said, "Whoa, whoa, hold on there." I looked up at her face and she was smiling at me. "You say you don't have a girlfriend?"

"No, I don't."

"Hmm, well sir you seem to have some talent there."

"Just doing what comes naturally," I said.

"Excellent," she said, guiding my face back toward her with her hand on the back of my head. Now her labia were swollen and dark and her clitoris stood out like a pale agate marble against its pink background. I placed my lips around that marble and sucked lightly. I popped it in and out of my mouth, going slowly, and within ten seconds she exploded again. She was not the noisy kind, not overly demonstrative; I felt her thighs tighten against my ears and her hips flexed forward violently. She made a sound like a growl, nearly, a throaty sound that evolved into a kind of laugh as the orgasm proceeded, until she was sitting there laughing uproariously while I sucked her pussy. Then again, she pushed her legs in against my skull and said, "Okay, okay, wait a second."

She beamed down on me like some Medieval saint, Saint Rosa of the Heavens, glowing with a blessing for all present, which would be me. "Hey, you're pretty good at that," she laughed. "No girlfriend, huh? Well you know, if you ever need to stay in practice."

Her hand was resting on the back of my head, and again I felt a little pressure pulling my face into her aromatic, very wet, engorged pink flesh. I extended my tongue and licked her with long wide strokes, poking near her vagina, licking forward and then going back and forth over the prominence of her clit. After a few of those I tightened the tip of my tongue and pushed it into the salty opening of her vagina. I was able to penetrate an inch or so into her and lick the front surface of her vaginal canal. This got a solid moan out of her, and I dredged forward again to the clitoris for a full attack, sucking and licking, and she began banging her hips against my face, grunting rhythmically with her thrusts, orgasming like crazy.

Her hand on my head guided me back from her. "Okay," she said. "You've made your point. I don't know where you learned to do that, but you're good at it. Oh my God." Her tits bounced as her chest heaved, trying to get her breath, moaning slightly with each exhalation.

She seemed to have reached her limit, so I straightened up and looked at her. She was a beauty but a few orgasms really gave a special kind of radiance. Her body looked firm but relaxed, her face was settled into a contented expression with twinkling eyes.

"Aren't your toes cold?" she asked me.

"Why, yes they are," I played along. "Freezing."

"Let's switch places," she said. "In this storm we've got to help each other out."

I sat on the sofa with one foot on the paint bucket. She stood there looking at me, one leg folded and one outstretched, my throbbing erection extending above me like one of those towers on an Italian plain, viscous fluid running down the sides of it. "You are quite the picture," she said, shaking her head. "Tell you what, scoot down more. More. There you go." My butt was off the edge of the sofa. Because of the way the back of it supported me, this was actually a pretty comfortable position. I was almost lying on my back but my head was propped up and one foot was on the floor.

Rosa looked glorious standing there. Her hair had mostly dried now and was hanging down in a lovely, natural way, messy and lovable. Her makeup had dried somehow so that the effect was a little goth, you know, dark around her eyes. Her body was firm and lean with those little tits making their statement and that jungle of pubic hair offering a sort of subtext to that. The muscles in her thighs looked strong, her movements were light and self-assured, like a gymnast maybe.

She dropped to her knees and wrapped her fingers around my toes. She felt them for a minute and then said, "Those toes aren't cold." Well, actually they didn't feel very cold to me, either. She scooted forward toward me and looked at my dripping, trembling erection. "This thing has been like this since I got here, hasn't it?"

"Just about, yeah."

She reached out and touched it. "It's a nice one, you know."

"There's nothing wrong with it but it's just a dick," I said, truthfully.

"I'm no expert," she said. "But it's straight, it's pretty thick, it's circumcised, it's a good length." She wrapped her fingers around it and gave a couple of tugs. "I like it." This was put forward as an announcement: I had passed the exam. She leaned forward and kissed the side of it, then began running her tongue up and down my length. Now and then she used her hand to give it a friendly tug, nothing too serious.

Then she did something I had never seen before. Well, there's a lot I haven't seen before, but definitely not this. She felt my balls with a gentle touch, and then, making a loop between her thumb and index finger, she isolated one of my testicles and pulled it out from my body so the skin over it was taut. Then she began licking the stretched skin, working on it with her tongue.

"Oh my God!" I said. "What the fuck is that?" There was a flash of lightning and thunder crashed nearby. The rain was a constant drumroll on the roof.

She stopped and looked up at me, keeping me in her grip. "You like that?"

"Are you kidding?"

"I thought you might," she said, and she resumed licking and teasing my scrotum. It was out of this world. After a couple of minutes she moved to the other one. She seemed comfortable and relaxed kneeling between my legs. Again, she put her hand on my shaft and tickled up and down it, not tugging, not jacking me off, just giving me pleasure with her light touch.

"Okay," she said. "I need some of this." She stood up and straddled my legs, moving up toward me. "You ready?"

I didn't know what she meant and did not answer. She didn't care. She leaned her torso over mine and put her knees up on the sofa cushion. "Let's see how this works," she said, and she lowered her hips to mine. She took my erection in her hand and held it in place, pushing her body against mine, taking me into her pussy. The entry was very snug, and she paused before lowering herself further. "Oh," she said softly. "That's nice." She gave me a warm smile. "Are you good?" she asked me.

"Fuck yeah," I said. I tried to thrust my hips but I didn't really have any leverage.

She felt my movements and adjusted herself on me. "Don't worry," she said, "I'll do the moving." She wiggled her hips a little and took the head of my cock, and then my length, slowly and deliberately.

She settled on me and took a deep breath. At first it was as if she was only moving the muscles inside her vagina, stroking me internally -- milking me, basically. I had never felt anything like that before. I looked up at her frantically, thinking there was no way I could last through something like that. She began rocking her hips very slightly, imperceptibly, stroking her vagina over my shaft. Over time her motions became longer until she was flexing her hips to take me from the tip, where she would pause and somehow squeeze her vagina on it, to the base, where her pubic bone pressed against me and again she did some kind of internal thing that milked my entire length, like a wave running up and down the walls of her vaginal vault.

She was watching my face with a kind of smile, working on me, trying to maximize my pleasure without pushing me over the edge. She moved like a ballerina on me, carefully, skilfully.

I tried to thrust again but it was no use. My job here was to lie still and enjoy the ride. Which, you know, I am not complaining.

"Let's see if there's one more," she said, and she put her hand between her legs while she fucked me. She grinned at me, "Oh yes," she said, "I do believe that's going to work -- unh!" She closed her eyes and began pumping her hips hard and fast against me, moaning happily. She kept her hand moving and extended the orgasm for more than a minute, then slowed down again and said, "Well that was worth doing. Okay, let's get you now."

As I've said, I am not some kind of womanizer or sex fanatic. I have had, I think, a normal variety of sexual experiences, with a few steady girlfriends and a handful of one-night stands. I have been with shy innocent girls and rip-your-head-off sexual hurricanes, and I thought I had a pretty good idea how it works. But Rosa was in a league of her own. She seemed content to have a few orgasms, and now she was going to turn her attention to my pleasure. We were not in the best setting for it, right? There was no mood lighting, no music, we were not returning from dinner or a nice date somewhere. We had a sofa that somebody hadn't thrown away yet and a paint bucket for a footstool, we were both just warming up after being drenched in an unexpected rainstorm. Never mind that, though we had glimpsed one another around the neighborhood, we had never met and had not really thought much about each other until a few minutes ago. Fate had brought a wet woman into an abandoned porch where I was sitting naked, and we were making the best of it.

So now she had her body positioned on top of mine, sort of kneeling on the sofa while my ass hung off the edge, and she was going to "get me now." I couldn't move and she didn't seem to want me to. She had my penis inside her and after her orgasm subsided she lay her body down on mine, her tits pushing into my chest, and began moving her hips on me, fucking me with long slow strokes. But she had a secret, some kind of control over her vaginal muscles that she started using on me. I felt like I had pushed my cock into a soft meat grinder, her insides were whirring like she was spinning inside, squeezing me, stroking me with waves of contractions deep inside her.

She pushed herself up, dangling those charming breasts in front of me, and stared down at my face while she worked on me. Now her hips were going like a pendulum, up and down on my painfully hard cock, teasing my tip on the upstroke and threatening to swallow my entire being on the downstroke. It started slow, with that internal whirring-spinning and massive stimulation, and then she started to step on the gas. Her hips moved faster, taking me deep, pounding me, and then she went even faster, overwhelming me. So much was happening, so many sensations, and I reached up and put my arms around her back, pulling her down harder against me. She slamed that talented pussy down on me harder, faster, deeper, grinding me up inside of her body, and finally I said, "That's it, here I come." With that she stabilized into a relatively quick tempo, pounding me methodically as my broth foamed inside me and then shot across from the dark inner chambers of my body into the dark inner chambers of hers, an esoteric secret gift of nature flowing between us. I was bellowing on that sofa, like a scream but deep in my chest, as I released unimaginable amounts of fluid.

I faded out of consciousness but returned, I'd guess, within a few seconds. She was lying on me, her head on my chest, her hands on my shoulders. We were both breathing deeply, gulping air. I was still inside her, wilting reluctantly.

"That was amazing," I said.

"Yes it was." She was sort of whispering.

Thunder was rumbling but it was not so close now. Rosa eased herself up off me and stood up, while I scooted up into a sitting position on the sofa. She walked over to the screened part of the porch and looked out. "Still raining," she said. "But not so much."

Our dogs were sleeping peacefully, each glad to have found a new friend. "Come sit with me," I said, and Rosa came to the sofa. I put an arm around her and she leaned against me in a comfortable and intimate way. We were both wondering what this was, if we had started something or if it was just a crazy thing that happened one day in a rainstorm. We sat like that for a long time, and the next time we checked the rain had stopped. Our clothes were wearably dry, dogs were ready to move on. We walked together to Hughes Street, then parted with a quick hug, not wanting to give the neighbors too much red meat. Maybe next time she walks past my bay windows she will wave to me. And maybe there will be more. I don't know.