Erin Go Bra(less)

"Don't be my father. Puhleeze!"

It was clear Aggie's sister had hurt her deeply. And then, to make Aggie the bride's maid? Cruel and unusual punishment, to my way of thinking.

Aggie burped. "I don't feel so good."

The odor of her breath was vile. Even in the intermittent amber street lighting, Aggie's face had lost all of its color.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Not in the car!" I swerved to the curb and slammed the breaks. Aggie lifted the handle and leaned out. The entire left side of her body was exposed, ankle, calf, thigh, hip, torso, and the profile of a breast. The retching sound grabbed my attention. I snagged a handful of tissues from the box behind the passenger seat. "Here." I placed them in her left hand.

The puking noises stopped. "I can't get up."

I grabbed Aggie's elbow and pulled her upright. My hand ended up lodged between her upper arm and the side of her chest. My fingertips wiggled against her breast.

"Copping a feel?" she asked.

I pulled my hand back, embarrassed. "It was an accident."

"Yeah? Well, make sure it happens again." Her smile was inviting but her breath reeked.

Aggie pointed out the building, a two-flat in a remote part of the city. I came around to her side, and assisted her with her exit. The fact that she continued to clutch the two bottles of champagne didn't help. I fished her keys from her trench coat pocket. My hand rubbed her thigh and groin as I struggled to grab her keys.

Aggie giggled. "Ooh, you're so touchy feely."

I unlocked the door and led her in. To get her weight off my shoulder, I let her drop onto her leather sofa. The apartment, or was it a condo, was nicely appointed. Whatever Aggie did for a living paid well. Very well. No table lamps, the room had track lighting in strategic places. Illuminated by a single spotlight, a bigger than life-size picture of a pair of legs adorned a wall. Aggie's legs. While Aggie thrashed on the sofa to remove her trench coat, like a beached whale, I wandered into the dining area. Her mahogany table was littered with documents that looked like contracts, and numerous photos of her long, shapely legs.

"What are all these?" I asked.

The response came from the couch. "I'm a leg model. Best gams this side of the Mississippi, and that includes New Pork City. Got another shoot tomorrow. I'd better get some sleep." She nuzzled a faux or fur real animal skin throw. "What do you do?"

"Technical stuff. Nothing creative. Not like modeling. I write a little."

"Oh really? Like what?" Aggie was up, moving my way, holding the fur.

"Whodunits." I wasn't going to tell her erotica. In most of my stories, the reader learns whodunit - with whom, and in what position.

"Who whatsis?"

"Detective stories."

"Oh, dick stories." She giggled.

I'd never heard them called that, but mine bounced in my slacks at the phrase. Maybe I was also writing dick stories and didn't realize it.

My dad used to read coverless paperbacks. When I asked, he said they were dick stories - mysteries. One night, when my folks were out, I crawled into his closet and found the box with his books. Whoa, they were dick stories all right. Horny porn novels. There was dick and pussy and tits -

She fell towards the table. "Why is the floor moving?"

"You need to sleep it off, and I need to go." Before I do something I regret.

"No. Stay with me. Please. I like your company."

Who wouldn't want to hang out with a model? "All right. Just for a few minutes."

"Goody!" Aggie jogged a jagged path into the kitchen. "Here." She held out a glass.

"I really shouldn't. I have a long drive home."

"Just one. To celebrate. Freedom."

She used the same between the thighs technique on the second bottle. The cork flew and I ducked. It hit a picture frame on the mantle above the gas-burning fireplace. The glass cracked and the picture fell over. She stumbled towards the damage and lifted the frame. Behind the shattered glass was a photo of her and a guy. Sean?

Yes, because she was sobbing. "I hate him! I hate him! Oh God, how I loved him."

She dropped the bottle. It spilled several glasses worth before I could grab it. She was collapsing, so I grabbed her in my arms, still clinging onto the bottle. I really had my hands full, holding her bare skin.

"I loved him so much, but he couldn't stand it."

What did that mean? Can anyone get too much love?

"He kept complaining. But I couldn't help it!" Her hand gravitated to my ass. My erection pressed into her belly. "You've been so nice. Can I ask you one more favor?"

"Okay." What could she ask? For me to tuck her in? After all, she had a photo shoot tomorrow. Unless she meant guns?

"Show me I'm attractive."

I'd heard that models are the neediest women, always unsure of themselves. At least, that's what the copy of People magazine claimed in the dentist's office.

"Drop trou, Big Guy. She bobbed her body up and down. "You want to, don't you? You want to make love to me, right? Shit, you got it up for that red-haired waitress. Why not me?" Her hand ran the contour of my prick beneath my pants. "Take 'em off."

This was not a good idea, fucking a drunken woman, even if she was a model. "Maybe when you're thinking clearly, we can -"

Her hands ran the full length of what was now an erection. "Wow! Was it that big at the hotel?"

"I guess." Like always. When an attractive woman touches it. Any woman, actually.

"I'll go first, then you. Okay?" She stepped back and unclasped the halter-top. The independent flaps of material fell to her feet. There she stood, in a wisp of bra, under wire, perfect for her mild breasts, lifting her nipples, begging for sucking, the thread of a cockeyed garter belt, run stockings on long, perfectly sculpted legs. It was clear to see why Aggie was successful. Her legs were a work of art, in any circumstances. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her pussy.

"See, I skipped panties, hoping for a quickie in the coat room. Sean or the best man, it didn't matter. And they would have, too, if I'd only been able to pull that damn dress over my hips. Now drop your pants and get over here. Little Missy didn't know what a treasure she had, but I do. And you're going to do me until I'm done."

It sounded more like a threat than an invitation. What the hell? I stepped out of my pants and jockey shorts. My erection stuck out in her direction. So, this was a revenge fuck. Her ex-boyfriend had married her sister, and fucking me would make everything better. Right!

"Oh yes! Colleen has Sean, but I have you!" She grazed one finger up the length of my prick. "You're not thinking about that red-haired hussy, are you?"

I shook my head. My prick swayed from side to side.

"Let me change." Aggie jogged off to what I presumed was her bedroom and shut the door.

Into what? She was already essentially nude. Why did she need to put anything on for sex? Maybe a diaphragm?

She returned from her bedroom in crotchless flesh-colored leggings and knee guards. Were we going to play nude hockey?

"I have a shoot tomorrow," she said. "I can't have any bruises."

She has a shoot and I'm going to score! Almost laughed out loud, except I was sure it would spoil the mood, and I'd already decided I couldn't pass up the opportunity to fuck a model, legs or not.

She cuddled up along side and blew in my ear. "Come with me."

I certainly hoped I would, after sufficient in and out sausage action.

She climbed up on the bed and knelt down on all fours, legs together. "Make love to me."

"Okay. Spread your legs a little so I can -"

"Straddle me. Otherwise, I'll be bowlegged tomorrow. It's none of anyone's business that I made love tonight."

I climbed up got behind her, my legs apart. I rubbed my erection up and down her pussy lips. Moist. I jabbed at her opening, which was pressed tight by her thighs.

She craned her neck to look at me. "Watch it! Haven't you ever made love before?"

Nice, getting insulted during what was supposed to be intimate and caring. I prodded her cunt lips apart with my fingertips, holding them while I slid closer. With a slight lean, the head was nestled inside, but just barely. I shuffled closer.

"Easy." It was a command more than a request.

Given my size, it was reasonable. I penetrated in slow motion. Her natural lubrication further in was significantly less. Her cunt walls grated against my erection. After what seemed like hours, I was buried. The pressure was marvelous, given her closed stance. Now it was time for fucking, an active verb if I ever knew one. I pulled back and slid forward.

"I said, take it easy. Gentle."

Perhaps Aggie's micromanagement was objectionable to Sean. Maybe Colleen threw herself on the bed, opened her legs and hollered, "Climb on!"

I executed a series of gradual withdrawals and reentries. My dick was aching from friction, perhaps from a combination of Aggie's tight cunt and Marti's hand job.

"Colleen doesn't know what she's missing."

Perhaps, but I knew what I was missing. Active participation on Aggie's part. Sheesh, she just knelt there, making the whole thing a job. Oh yes, and chatting.

"You know, my aunt Julie told me a story, last time we went out for drinks and dinner. Just after Sean told me we were quits, and he was taking up with Colleen. Bastard! Watch it, not so fast. Anyway, she told me about a stud living next door that completely reamed her out. Better than anything she ever got from the scumbag husband of hers, may he rot in hell."

"That's nice."

"She told me was trying to figure out a way to roll in the sack with him again, without being obvious. After all, they're neighbors. So, you have competition out there, Big Guy."

Wait a second. Julie? "Juliet?"

"Uh huh. Juliet McCarthy. Why, do you know her?"

Damn! Juliet is Aggie's aunt, Breann's mother and my next-door neighbor. [See Valentine Birthday and Spring Trash Pick-Up Birthday] And Julie isn't keeping her mouth shut. The song "It's a Small World" began to play in my head, and you know how hard it is to evict that kind of song. "Nope. Just thinking about Romeo and Juliet, that's all."

Her grip tightened. Was she enjoying this, finally? "You do! Oh my God! You're the stud muffin who reamed her out!" For the first time, Aggie moved. Not much, just a little. "You can go a little faster now."

I leaned over and put my hands on the front of her thighs, for leverage.

"No, no hands there. I bruise easily."

I reached forward and took her breasts in my hands. Perhaps some nipple action would animate her.

"For cripes sake, keep your hands off my tits. The last thing I need to be reminded is how small my chest is!"

I'd run out of things to grab, and then I saw it - her hair, cascading down her neck. I took her mane in hand, like reins on a horse.

"What are you doing? Don't pull my hair! You'll give me whiplash!"

"Shut up!" I didn't know my frustration was so high until I hollered. Here I was, trying to give her a good time, and all I got were complaints and restrictions. It was time to deliver the revenge fuck she'd asked for.

I started thrusting, holding onto her hair. My dick was throbbing, begging for release.

"Wait! Wait! You're going too fast."

"Too late. I'm ready now," I said. "Maybe you need to be ridden, so you can feel something. Feel this?" I pulled back and slammed my dick all the way into her cunt.

"Oh God! What are you doing?"

"How about this?" I pistoned in and out a half dozen times. "Can you feel that?"

"You're fucking me!" she shouted.

No duh! Isn't that what she asked for? Sean got Colleen and she got me? All eight inches of me?

"Finally! Don't stop now! Fuck me good and hard!"

I lunged and retreated, pushing every inch into her cunt. With every penetration, she cried out, gasping for breath, pressing back to slam her butt into my crotch. There were other positions that would have afforded better groin grinding, but no, she couldn't be bruised for a photo shoot.

My prick was raw and my knees hurt. Maybe she didn't need to walk tomorrow, but I did. And my dick felt like it had been scrubbed with steel wool. In a quick motion, I grabbed her wrists and dragged them forward. Aggie was face down on the bed. And I fell on top, still inside her.

"What are you doing?"

"Fucking you." Prone, her legs were slightly separate, but not enough to make her bowlegged in the morning. Still astride her, I continued humping. Good thing she wasn't a butt model, because I expected her backside was already black and blue. I imagined my bloody prick. My balls were churning, and Aggie was about to get a load, ready or not.

"Are you on the pill?" I asked.

She turned her head. "Morning after."

Those weren't legal yet in the US. But, as an international leg model, Aggie traveled the world. Wouldn't be hard to get some. Speaking of hard, if I didn't erupt soon, I never would, and all of this would have been for nothing. I slowed to a crawl, not because she'd asked, but from the pain. I could feel every square inch inside her pussy. She was still quite tight, despite my interior assault. I groaned as sperm flowed from my dick. At that moment, I had no idea whether Aggie had achieved an orgasm or not. And, to be honest, I didn't care. I was done, and done in.

I crawled off the bed and cleaned up in the bathroom. The image of my dick in her mirror showed terrorized flesh, raw and sore. Aggie parked herself in the doorway. "You're the stud that did Aunt Julie, aren't you?"

"Lots of guys have big dicks." I dabbed at mine with tissues soaked in cold water.

"Yes, but you knew her real name was Juliet. Boy, she wasn't exaggerating!"

She closed the distance between us and moved her mouth to mine. A kiss, after all this? I closed my eyes. Her tongue slid into my mouth, almost choking me, as her hand found my wilting penis. I pulled back.

"What's the matter? Don't you french?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I like breathing better. And be careful with that."

Aggie laughed. "You're a trip, you know that?" She tugged my prick. I winced. "So, you going to call me or what?"

I looked down at her bloodied hand on my dick.

"You're married. I know," she said. "But I don't know if I can get along without this."

I lifted her hand from my penis. "We'll see. Give me your number."

I tucked her in to bed, got dressed, and drove home. The exterior lights were on, so Harriett had gotten home safely. I prepared myself for the second beating of the evening.

(To be continued)

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An Original H M Tale

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