Lisa's Jeans Ch. 01

She talked about being a stripper, and I believed her. She spoke of going to school instead, and avoided the sorry myth of stripping to fund an education. She went out with guys for a week or two then dropped them, totally losing interest. She went out a lot, partied, danced, got drunk.

She talked often about becoming a stripper in one of the posh suburbanclubs, where men dressed nicely and carried big wads of cash. I held little doubt that she could do well. Her body was fit, firm and curvy, covered in olive skin that glowed with her chronic tan. Her tits were offensively perky, and the long pencil eraser nipples showed easily since she usually opted not to wear a bra. Those tits should bring her a nice roll, though they were not the overinflated silicon beach balls too many girls were sporting today.

She was named Lisa, and she wasn't very smart. That didn't matter to me in the least - I just wanted to fuck her. That desire, that urge grew stronger each time we met, often at my house. I was under 25 and lived alone, so all of my friends and other hangers-on came around whenever they chose. She often came with them, and I would watch her, drink in the details, try to work out an approach.

After everyone had gone, my sort-of girlfriend, Joyce, would get the fucking of her life. She didn't feel like Lisa at all - Joyce was too tall, too long and too lean. Nevertheless, she was willing and in reasonable shape, and yielded to me in bed. Each time I saw Lisa, I became more aggressive with Joyce, more demanding, taking out my unfulfilled need to have Lisa. Joyce never complained, in fact, she got off harder the further I took her. I think that's why she acquiesced for as long as she did - no one had ever made her come so hard or so often.

And in the darkness, Joyce served as a surrogate for Lisa, and as I pounded Joyce I imagined Lisa beneath me, her tight pussy gripping my cock, those powerful, shapely thighs clamping around my waist for added leverage as she fucked back against me. If the lights were on, I'd turn Joyce over onto her stomach, grab a handful of hair, close my eyes and fuck her mercilessly.

Lisa began to come around more often, though never alone. We'd share the couch and talk under the loud music and boisterous conversation filling up the room. Again, she would talk of stripping, how much money she thought she might be able to make. I nodded my head, and never failed to drop my eyes to her fabulous tits each time the subject came up. Lisa never failed to follow where my eyes were going. She said nothing of it. I assumed, since she wanted to strip for cash and rarely wore a bra, that she anticipated, perhaps enjoyed, my staring eyes.

I took silent note of the fact that those perky nipples tightened visibly the longer my gaze lingered on them. When she left, I would pin Joyce down to the bed and suck and bite her tiny nipples, turn her over to enter her, and pinch them between myfingertips, pulling and twisting as my cock ground inside her.

It wasn't enough. I told Joyce we weren't compatible, and in her dull pliable manner she listlessly agreed, and that was that. I stopped masturbating, letting the sexual energy build up. Lisa kept stopping by to have the same conversations with the sentence order only slightly altered, but I didn't care. My eyes took in her body, savoring the curves, lines, and muscles. My fingers twitched, wanting handfuls of her silky smooth dark hair.

One of the many nights I sifted through her inanities searching for a way in, she threw open the gates. She steered the conversation, as always it seemed, to stripping.

"Lisa," I asked, "what would your boyfriend think about you getting up in front of all those men and getting naked for money?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Why not?"

She shrugged and looked down at her hands, twining her fingers together. "None of them are strong enough for me." I paused, trying to sort this out. Most of the guys she messed with were physically fit, some of them monstrously so. This wasn't about muscles.

I played dumb. "What do you mean? I've seen some of those guys. They look like pro wrestlers."

Lisa shrugged again, then leaned back against the far end of the couch. Her jeans pulled snug at the crotch, and I couldn't help but look.

"They just aren't strong enough for me," she said quietly. I had to strain to hear her.

"In what way are they weak?"

"In ways that you're not."

My cock twitched in my jeans. "What would you know about me?"

Lisa let out a throaty chuckle. "When Joyce drinks, she's got a big mouth."

I shifted to take the pressure off my dick, letting it stretch along the inside of my left thigh. Lisa glanced down at the bulge, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"Tell me, Lisa, what did Joyce have to say?" People started to leave, tossing goodbyes toward me on their way out the door. Lisa made no move to leave.She leaned further back against the arm of the couch and let her legs fall open, the seam of those tight jeans bisecting her mound.

"She told me that you fucked her whenever and wherever you pleased. She told me you were a bit rough with her, but you made her come so many times that she kind of liked the hard treatment. She said that you were demanding."

"Did she tell you I dumped her?"

Lisa shook her head. "No. Why?"

"She was too easy to push around, and too passive in bed. "

"Really? She sounds kinda slutty to me."

"'Kinda'. That's the problem. She was playing at it."

Lisa said nothing, staring at my hard on, licking her lower lip with the tip of her pink tongue. I waited, then realized I shouldn't.

"Lisa, do you know where my bedroom is?" She nodded. "Good. Go and wait for me there on the small couch."

She stood slowly, regarding me through hooded eyes.

Without another word, she turned and disappeared down the hallway. She'd normally have left by now.

It took only a few minutes to completely clear the house, and I was ready for her.

I entered the bedroom to find Lisa sitting on the two seater couch, leaning forward, legs crossed. There was an air of timidity about her, quite different from the girl in the living room, whose legs had been parted in invitation, tongue making silent promises.

"Stand up, Lisa," I said in a quiet voice. Her gaze remained on the floor as she stood for me, nipples erect beneath her shiny black top. The curve of her thighs ended in a beautifully delineated pussy molded by the tight denim. I was hard, getting harder. "Look at me." Her eyes met mine. "Turn around and face the wall."

I approached and stood directly behind her, our bodies bare inches apart. "Put your hands up on the wall, and move your feet farther apart." Her ass looked perfect beneath the denim skin, taut, seductively shaped.

I lifted her hair off her neck, moving my lips next to her ear. "Other men haven't been strong enough for you?"

She shook her head slightly.

"Did they not fuck you hard enough?" A quick rush of air sounded from her nose. Again she shook her head.

"No," she whispered.

"Did they make you come?"

"Sometimes." One hand held her hair, with the other I traced a slow pattern along the line of her jaw.

"Did you suck their cocks?"

"Yes."

Rubbing my finger back and forth over her lower lip, I asked, "How did you get here?"

"What?"

"Why are you here now, standing in this vulnerable position, your ass sticking out, your hands up on the wall, waiting? You thought about this, about me, long before tonight, right?"

"Yes, I have."

"Probably before you heard Joyce babbling, correct?" She tried to nod but couldn't; my grip on her hair had tightened.

"Yes."

"And did you finger fuck yourself, thinking of me?" A small moan escaped her mouth, and I slipped the tip of my finger between her lips.

"Uh-huh," was all she could manage. I felt her lips close around my finger, creating light suction.

"Tell me, Lisa. Did your fantasies of me change after hearing Joyce describe the things I did to her, the things I made her do for me?" I pulled my finger from her mouth, sliding it down her neck into the cleavage formed by the low cut top.

"God yes." I grasped her wrists and pinned them to the wall, then covered her body with mine, pressing my cock against her glorious ass.

"Tell me."

"I imagined you holding me down, doing me like you did her. I lay in my bed making myself come, wondering how it would feel to have your cock inside me. She told me you sometimes called her names when you got rough, and she didn't like to admit it, but that excited her. It turns me on too." She rocked her ass back against my hard on.

"Stay still," I ordered. I cupped her breast, rubbing my palm in circles over the hard nipple. Lisa shivered, but otherwise kept still. I tilted my hips forward, increasing the pressure of my cock against her ass.

"What Joyce doesn't know, Lisa, is that I fucked so hard, and got rougher and rougher with her, and called her nasty names because I considered her a substitute for you." My fingers clamped onto her nipple, pulling it away from her chest. My other hand reached around and yanked her top down until both of her perky tits popped free. "You've been teasing me for months, haven't you?"

"Yes!"

"Coming around here in your tight pants, short skirts, showing off your tits and never wearing a bra." I squeezed her breasts roughly. "Is this what you were looking for, slut?" She strained to keep from moving. Her breathing was louder and heavier, interspersed with grunts and moans as I mauled her breasts. My lust was almost impossible to contain. I cupped the crotch of her jeans, feeling heat and dampness. Hand shaking, I managed to undo the button and slide the zipper down.

"When I touch your pussy, will it be wet for me?"

"Yes," she replied, voice quavering.

"Beg." My hand still gripped her crotch, squeezing rhythmically.

"Please..."

"Beg!"

"Please touch my pussy."

I jammed my hand inside her jeans until my middle finger slid along her pussy lips, already slick with her cream. Her hips jerked and I pushed forward, grinding my erection against her ass. Moisture coated my finger as it lay nestled in the hot embrace of her slit. Slowly, I moved it back and forth, gathering lubrication, applying just enough pressure to push the swollen lips apart until my fingertip was encircled by by warm, wet flesh.

Lisa began to pant. I curled my long finger and sank it inside her a bit at a time until it could go no further.

"Feel good?" I asked her.

"Yes."

"I want you to hump my finger. Try and get yourself off." I could sense her hesitation, but her need drove her. The initial undulations were long and slow, back and forth on my digit, her pussy clamping rhythmically. Again and again, forward onto my finger, then back, her lush ass bumping against my cock. I had to force myself to breathe slowly to maintain some semblance of control.

Her motions became more pronounced. "Oh, shit. That feels so good."

My first finger was joined by a second, and after adjusting to the sensation, Lisa began to fuck them in earnest. I leaned forward and licked the soft skin just below her ear. "Do you like fucking my fingers?"

"Yes!" Her hips were rolling more rapidly now. There was a loud buzzing in my head and my heart was pounding. I was going to go over the edge. I bit her earlobe.

"You're so fucking wet. Can you hear it? Can you smell your horny cunt?"

"...oh yeah...so wet..."

"When you come, you're going to soak the crotch of your jeans, you little slut." I hooked my fingers upwards, pressing hard against the pubic bone. Her rhythm was shattered, and she fucked down on my probing fingers with an erratic motion. A series of inarticulate cries sounded over her hoarse panting, and she came. Her pussy clamped down hard on my fingers while her entire body went rigid, quivering like a taut bowstring.

A sudden gush of moisture coated my fingers, oozing out over my knuckles, soaking the denim still tight against the back of my hand.

Her rigidity broke all at once, and she sagged against me, weakened arms straining to keep her from collapsing. This was more incredible than I had ever imagined, and I knew I was going to come soon. "That was..." she choked,"...so fucking amazing..."

"Turn around and get on your knees." Lisa's response was slow. I had to come now, and didn't want her to see me losing it in my pants. I grabbed handfuls of her hair and forced her to sink to her knees. "Take it out. Now!" Her shaking hands fumbled with the zipper. I slapped them away and undid it myself, yanking out my painfully hard cock.

"Suck it," I hissed between clenched teeth. "Suck my fucking cock and swallow my cum." Regaining her senses, Lisa grasped the base of my dick and slid her mouth over the purple tip, applying strong suction. The buzzing in my head now sounded in my ears, so loud I could barely hear the slurping noises her sexy little mouth was making. Her head bobbed back and forth, leaving wet trails of exquisite pleasure along the length of my cock.

"Deeper!," I moaned, and she complied. "Oh, fuck!," I gasped, and started spewing my cum into her sucking mouth. I held my breath and saw flashes of light and color against my closed eyelids. My whole body jerked with each stream of semen she swallowed. My knees went weak. A strange numbness covered my legs, crawling up my back. I felt her pop my cock out of her mouth, holding it gently in both hands. The numbness slid over my back and swarmed up my neck, covering my skull. It had never been this good, this complete.

That was my last conscious thought.

(End Part 1)

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(Note: If you enjoyed my story and would like a second chapter, feel free to let me know. Criticism is welcome, just be gentle - this is my first go round.)