Poet Writes Again

Linda put her hands on my shoulders and started to slowly rise off my cock. Every inch or so she would teasingly give a little squeeze, but when she got to the tip she clamped down hard and holding it while moving her hips in those circles of hers. It was the same when she took me back in that sweetness, and when she had it all she would circle her hips again. Linda rose and fell, rose and fell

Trust me brothers and sisters, it was exquisite agony.

Linda's lesson wasn't over by a long shot.

Linda somehow sensed that I was about to end her teaching; either by my rapid breathing or the swelling of my cock; and would come all the way off me, stepping back, reaching down , and circling my staff with her fingers just below the head and squeezing hard. When she felt the pulsing of my cock was done she would hold on for just a few more moments and then bend over putting just the smallest amount of the head of my cock between her lips, release her hold and suck the small shot of cum from me.

Big bad biker. I guess I was at one time, but now I was putty. I honestly believe that until this moment I had never really fucked before. I honestly believed that if I never had Linda again I would never really be fucking.

Linda took me back in her and repeated her lesson over and over I don't know how many times.

My demands for release got me no where. I had to beg.

Linda took me in her again.

"Nick, hold my legs again. Good boy. Now lean forward and suck my nipples, Nick. Oh yeah, nibble them baby. I'm going to help you Nick. I'm going to play with myself now. Hold on big boy, hold on."

I sucked and I licked and I nibbled. Linda did her circling hips while she circled her clit. I held on. I never knew that I had it in me to hold on like that, but I did. Just for Linda. I wanted to be perfect for her, for Linda.

"Now Nick! I'm cumming on you baby! Do it Nick do it!"

To this day, I swear I felt her cervix nipping the head of my cock as I emptied myself into that crazy, beautiful woman.

As we both began to wind down, I dropped her legs, crushed her to me and tried to equal one of her lip locks.

Linda and I spent the rest of the weekend either at her parent's or at Pete's. We never had anything but a good time together.

No, we didn't fuck all weekend. We talked, we laughed, we danced, we rode El, we did things that people do.

Most important for me; I listened. I learned.

I learned that Linda was very well to do. She was important to a lot of people and her community.

We didn't exchange any information when we split up Sunday evening. She didn't ask, and, hey, I know when a woman is in a different league. Besides, she knew I haunted Pete's, if she ever wanted to go slumming again.

When I got home from work Monday evening, I had just sat my ass down in front of the tube, when the phone rang.

"Yeah."

"Hi. Dr. Nick, this is Linda. I got your number from your sister. I think I have an infection on my tush, and I was wondering if you could come by and give me an examination? It started to hurt so bad that I didn't think I could get to your office, but I was able to get to my parents home."

"It sounds serious. I suggest you remove any clothing that may irritate the area further. I'll be there as soon as possible."

That was three years ago, come July. Linda and I have been seeing each other at least once a week since then. We meet at her parents or at my place. When she calls, the conversation always starts the same way, but sometimes the afflicted body part changes.

At first she tried to clean my act up for me. She would buy me dress shirts and slacks that I made her take back. Once she sat on my chest with styling gel trying to pack my beard down. She never said so, but I think she may have wanted to introduce me into her circle of family and friends, but I finally convinced her that the old saying, ‘east is east and west is west…' is not so far from the truth; at least in my case.

You know; I wish that I would have taken advantage of the GI Bill when I got out of the service all those years ago. Maybe gone to med school or something. I think I would have made a good doctor.

I like making house calls.

"AMF YOYO," I thought, as El and I headed for the exit of the National Cemetery and an ice cold Bud at Pete's