Thankful Ch. 02

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Lonely souls share a Christmas date.
8k words
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Part 2 of the 5 part series

Updated 03/07/2024
Created 12/04/2020
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Sandy and I continued our occasional walks, though our exercise routine didn't result in another meeting like we had Thanksgiving day. I'd usually see her going out, and follow till I caught up to her. Our conversations deepened, and we found we were getting quite close. One day, she seemed stressed. I asked what was up.

"I could use a break from all the holiday madness." She looked at me, the look on her face saying, 'take me away from this.'

"Maybe it's time for a shopping trip," I said, hoping to start her thinking. "I mean, it's almost mid December. It's getting closer and closer to the big day."

"Yeah, you're right. I usually take a day and tell everyone I'm going shopping, if you want anything for Christmas, let me be, and don't call me!!" Sandy said with a laugh.

"That usually works for me. I take a day and go into town, and work the stores til I'm done. Or fed up." Sandy laughed at that approach. "I have an idea..."

Sandy looked at me curiously. "And that would be..." she smiled.

"My wife and daughter in law do a shopping day every year. They take a whole day, go in and basically do the same thing I do, but for them it's an event. For me, it's a grind!! Then they have dinner somewhere, and don't get home til mid evening."

"OK," said Sandy, picking up on where I was going. "So we should do the same thing."

"Exactly. We'll have to leave here separately, but, yeah. I'll get us a room somewhere for the day, we can bring in lunch, and then you and I can be dessert."

Sandy laughed at the characterization. "I like it," she said, smiling as she looked at me. "I think it'll be fun."

"I'm sure of it," I said. "I think I'm going to enjoy you being my tasty treat." I licked my lips.

"Ooohhhhhh," said Sandy, realizing what was in store for her.

"I'll find out when they're going, and either see you here, or text you."

"Sounds good," said Sandy. "Almost like a real date!!" We were around the back side of the neighborhood, away from houses. She took my hand, holding it tightly. "This should be fun. I'm already looking forward to it."

A week later, we had made our arrangements for the next Saturday, which would be the second weekend prior to Christmas. I got a room at one of the non-descript chain motels not far from the interstate, about 30 miles from our town. That morning, my wife and daughter in law took off about nine. I left about 30 minutes behind them. I had told Sandy I was going to do some shopping before we met, which she was going to do also. We figured coming home with a car full of bags would not only give us some cover, but also accomplish the necessary objective of getting Christmas loot for those in our particular circles. We'd meet around two at the motel.

I got there first, around 1:45, and went to the room, setting the AC so that it wouldn't be stuffy. Even in December, we're far enough south here that a 60 degree day is not unusual-a little warm, but not by much. As it was, I was in jeans and a button down short sleeve shirt, comfortable for the low 60's day it had turned out to be. The room was a little warm, so it was good I got there early. Sandy showed up about 30 minutes later with a bag in hand. She'd picked us up a couple of cheese steaks from a nearby place that was known for such things, as well as their killer potato salad, even 1200 miles from Philadelphia.

Sandy herself was looking like the girl next door I knew, boot cut jeans, light flannel shirt in a pink plaid, open over what appeared to be a maroon tank top. We sat at the small table next to the bed and dug into our lunch, a welcome respite from the madness of the Christmas mall rush.

It was still a little warm in the room, and Sandy quickly took off the flannel shirt that was her outer layer. What I thought had been a tank turned out to be more of a camisole, though made out of T shirt material. The only things holding it up were a pair of spaghetti straps, which were doing yeoman duty keeping her reined in, not entirely successfully. Sandy is not Dolly Parton, but she does carry generous C tits, which were pulling her top away from her so that the straps were pulling away from her body. They might have had less strain on them had she been wearing a bra, though I was pleased she wasn't. Her tits were full and round, her nipples starting to poke through the thin fabric now that she was out of the flannel. She giggled as she felt the coolness stiffen her nipples.

We started in on our lunch, Sandy trying my potato salad, which she really liked. As we got into our meal, she asked how my day was going. "I haven't imploded yet," I said. "That's always a plus this time of year." I looked over the table at her.

"Not good, huh??"

"No. The short version is that, after my mom doing her best to spoil Christmas for me-well, maybe not completely intentionally, but that was the result anyway, I think she was more interested in getting at my dad than anything else-I had a couple of years where Christmas didn't go well. One year I had a bonus that paid out almost $1500. I sent about $1250 home, kept the rest to buy stuff for the kids and such. I spoiled myself on a steak dinner at Grandma Max's in the Bosselman's in Des Moines..."

"You used to be a truck driver??"

"Yeah, for about five years. It was interesting. I liked it. I was well paid-made $50K a couple of years-and liked the people I worked with. Plus, as long as I picked up and delivered on time, and didn't get into accidents, they left me alone. So, anyway, my wife asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told her-one item, a pair of Timberlands. At the time, 1998, the ones I wanted were about $110. I don't ask for much-I'm not driven by gadgets or tools, or stuff in general, and I'm told I'm hard to buy for, since I don't give a lot of hints, or make mention of things I'd like to have."

"So, you didn't get the boots??"

"Nope. Not only that, I didn't get a damn thing otherwise, either. Not a happy Christmas. There's a lot more to that story, but it's too long for now."

"Ouch," said Sandy. "Nothing like getting shut out."

"Yeah, and in front of the kids and everything. It was kinda tense for a while. My wife said, 'I spent it on the kids.' I said, I sent you over $1200. You couldn't spend a little on me, especially after you asked me?? I never did get a good answer to that."

"And this is your wife that you're with now??"

"No. That was the first one. She passed away about 20 years ago. I hate to sound cruel, but I'm better off. One year I got her a matching bra and panty set from Warner's. She liked their stuff, and it generally fit well. I got the size wrong. For some wives, that's probably a capital offense, and I really should have checked. But ripping me over it in front of the tree on Christmas morning wasn't the time to deal with it."

"Wow," said Sandy, a pained look on her face. "I'm sorry you had to put up with that. I think I'd have been disappointed, but it's easily fixed. The next day, you go down and make the exchange, and it's done with."

"If I had not been ass chewed in front of everyone, I'd have done that, happily. I didn't bother. I just returned them. It was a harmless, if dumb, mistake. I really dislike having my generosity abused, and that really did it."

Sandy took my hand across the table. "No wonder you get edgy this time of year."

"Yeah, well, after years of this crap-and it hasn't completely stopped, but it's better than it was-I get really skittish this time of year. I just want to go hide til January." I looked at Sandy, who was about halfway through the first part of her cheese steak. "And how is your day going??"

Sandy laughed. "A little better than yours. I get the part about generosity being abused. I try to make a good holiday for everyone, but it's not always appreciated." I nodded agreement. "It's really disheartening to make extra effort to find something for someone, and they are just like, that's nice. At least fake the gratitude."

"Exactly. The important thing is sincerity. If you can fake that, you've got it made," I said, to Sandy's laughter. "I feel for you."

"Yeah, it's every housewife's life of disappointment."

"Except you're not exactly a housewife. I mean, you have all that, and two jobs!! That's why I get annoyed every time I see you lugging trash cans to the curb when you have a couple of 20-something kids who are young and strong. They could help. I wish I could do something to focus on it, but me going over to your place to roll out the cans would probably only start trouble."

Sandy looked at me a moment. "You're probably right." She sighed. "But thanks for some understanding. A lot of the time, I'd be happy if someone just gave me a hug and thanks after I've worked on a holiday dinner all day." She looked at me.

"I hope you get better than that. You surely deserve it."

"Thanks. And I hope your Christmas is good this year, and nobody screws it up for you."

I smiled. "Thanks. I've pretty much given up on the idea. I don't say much anymore about what I want, since I don't get it most of the time anyway, but this year is already better than most."

Sandy looked at me curiously. "How's that??"

"I'm here with you. And we're going to make love in a little while. A lunch date and a romp with a good looking blonde. What could be better??" Sandy laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. I stood and took her hand, leading her from the other side of the table. I took her in my arms, pulled her to me, and held her for a long three minutes or so, just letting her rest her head on my shoulder. She held me tight. I kissed the top of her head, taking in the sweet aroma of her hair. I felt her breasts pressing into my chest. "How's that for a hug??"

Sandy stepped back. "Best I've had in years." Her eyes looked like they had teared up while we were embracing.

"I'm glad. Too bad we're so close to each other at home that we can't get away for just a hug once in a while."

"There's always the little park."

"That's true. We just have to not be obvious about it. We'll figure something out."

Sandy smiled. "Yes, we will." She kissed me, a short, sweet kiss at first, then a longer, more lustful kiss. As we were kissing, I pulled up the bottom of her cami, lifting it up over her breasts, then, breaking the kiss, pulling it over her head. I tossed it on the chair. I gently squeezed Sandy's left breast, making the already poking nipple stiffen.

"Hey!!" said Sandy, smiling as I leaned forward to kiss her tits, sucking gently on each nipple. "Now it's your turn," she said, starting to unbutton my shirt. After she had three undone, she reached in, playing her hand on my chest. "Mmmm, I like a hairy chest. I love how soft yours is." She undid a couple more buttons, now only one left. She matched my action, leaning forward to nuzzle the thicker patch of hair between my nipples. She gently grazed over them, then kissed them, and finally opened the last button and pushed my shirt off my shoulders onto the floor. She again ran her hand over my chest, playing her fingers through the hair.

"Hubby's not hairy??"

Sandy smiled. "Not like this..." she said, her voice barely hiding her excitement.

As she finished her tour of my chest, Sandy's fingers found their way to my belt, which she pulled open, then played in the hair above the waist of my jeans, finally moving slowly into the top of my pants. She found the thick hair around my cock, which was well on its way to full hardness, but sticking sideways due to the tightness of my jeans.

"Wow, you're really hairy in there!! I like it!!"

"You didn't notice before??"

"No, not really. We had such a quick 'encounter' the last time, I didn't really get a good look." She looked at me, then my jeans. She unbuttoned my jeans, reaching farther into them, finding my now stiff dick. "Oh, I like this, too!!" She said, stroking my hard on as best she could in the tight confines.

While Sandy was working on me, I reached out and undid the button on her jeans, and slowly started unzipping. She grabbed my hand. "Hold on." I hoped she was not having second thoughts. I needn't have worried. "Let's do this together," she said, preparing to unzip. I followed suit, reaching for my zipper. Together, we slowly pulled our zippers down. There was not much mystery to my unveiling, since Sandy had already discovered everything there was to know about what I was, or wasn't wearing. I was about to get a surprise.

As Sandy pulled her zipper down, I saw first a hint of the same golden blonde on her head, then more as she reached bottom. She smiled as she revealed her bush, part of it visible when the zipper reached the bottom of its range, then all of it as she slid her jeans down over her hips and thighs. I was mesmerized at the sight of this blonde beauty undressing in front of me.

"You probably think I'm some kind of slut, not wearing panties," Sandy said, smiling.

"Not at all. I mean, they'd just be in the way anyway, considering what we're here for." Our eyes met. "I think it's really hot, watching you pull your jeans down, and there's nothing underneath." Sandy smiled at me as I spoke. "Besides, you convey that Ivory girl image, what with the mom jeans and flannel shirts, and such. One of the things that turns me on is someone like you who is going around all day, nothing under those jeans and flannel, just a very non mom-like fire burning, just waiting to burn through the roof. And that's what I see in you right now."

We stepped out of our jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and toward each other, embracing in a long hug. I held Sandy close, kissing the top of her head. I felt her almost D cup tits pushing into my chest, my cock poking into her hip. I could feel the soft hair between her legs on my shaft. "This is nice. Warm, loving, naked."

Sandy looked up and smiled. We kissed deeply, our hands roving all over each other. I played in her thick bush, she in mine, I getting one, then two fingers into her opening labia, she stroking my now raging hard on. We worked our way to the bed, pulling the covers down in a rush, and fell on it, still kissing. After a few minutes, I started working my way down her body, kissing between her tits, shapely and full, nicely round with dark pink areolae. I teased each nipple, making them stand out, hard as pencil erasers. She caressed my head as I made love to her breasts, sighing softly as I kissed them all around, the undersides and tops, and gently tugging the nipples. I sucked the left one into my mouth, and Sandy yelped as a shock wave ran through her.

I looked up. "OK??"

She laughed. "Oh, yeah!! That hasn't happened for a long time."

"Good," I said. "I'll have to do the right one now." Sandy smiled at me as I went to work. Before long, I had her chest heaving as she had another mini orgasm from my attention to her sensitive nipple. I continued my travels down her body, kissing the line of fine hair that ran from her navel down to her bush. I nuzzled in the thick hair above her opening, which was well on its way to revealing her inner self to me. I worked through her golden blonde pubes, kissing just above where they started to spread around her labia. Sandy jumped at the near miss to her clit.

"Ready??" I said, looking up, not waiting for an answer. I started kissing around her outer lips, just missing her clit when I started, moving all the way to the bottom of her spreading slit, then back up. Sandy was being overtaken by need, and she pushed herself up to me, as if her pussy was begging me to lick it. I continued to tease, though after she almost came a couple of times, I finally went in for the prize, flat tonguing her right up the middle, directly over her clit. After all the build up, that set her off, and she cried out when I licked over her little button. I lingered on it, licking it up and down, then side to side, which a minute later resulted in a long moan as Sandy came, her hips pushing into my face and flooding me with juice. I held her clit in my lips til she recovered then started moving back up her body.

I kissed my way back to her face, retracing my path up her belly and over her tits. Now face to face, I looked at her a moment, quickly assessing if I should kiss her; a lot of women don't want to taste their own pussy on their lover's lips. I decided to go for it. After all, Sandy had licked me clean after our first encounter, and I kissed her when she was done. I needn't have worried; she met me full on, and we kissed deeply. As we kissed, I rested the head of my cock on her clit, making her jump. I pushed down, the head slipping between her open labia, slowly going in til I felt her cervix, then stopped, just lying on her, my dick resting inside her. She let out a moan as her pussy juiced over me.

I broke the kiss and looked at Sandy. She smiled up at me, and licked her lips. "Hey, I don't taste so bad," she said with a short laugh.

"I told you!!" I said. "I don't know why your husband won't go down on you. You're pretty tasty. If I were your husband, you'd never get me out of there."

Sandy looked up at me again as I slowly started pumping in and out of her. She instinctively met my gentle thrusts. I kissed her again, longer this time, tasting her pussy on her lips, and feeling my chest on her tits. We pulled away from the kiss. "We're definitely doing this again. I forgot how much I like having my pussy licked."

I wondered how we'd make that happen. Sometimes living close has its drawbacks, one of which is that you can't just go for a walk with your illicit lover at will. Sooner or later, someone will notice, usually sooner. But I liked the idea.

"Yeah, but it might be a challenge. I know we have our little park, but it's not like we can just go there every week without someone seeing us before very long." I kissed Sandy again. "But I'm definitely in. I don't get to do this, well, at all anymore. My wife says it gets her too excited, makes her head hurt."

Sandy laughed, and said in a mocking tone, "Not tonight honey, it gives me a headache..." We both laughed. "But then, if you're making her excited and overstimulated, you must be doing something right!!"

"I like to think so."

Sandy looked up at me, smiled, and kissed me. "I think you're doing just fine. Don't worry about giving me a headache. I have plenty of Tylenol. Roll off me, I want to do you now." I pulled out of her, rolling to the side, settling on my back. Sandy moved down and knelt beside me, taking my cock in her hand, and smiled at me. She lowered her face, and in a moment had my cock deep in her throat, taking me all the way to the balls. I had not had anyone do that for me in years, and I quickly caught my breath.

Sandy pulled off me and laughed. "Didn't expect that??"

"Not at all. I don't get this treatment, well, ever. The only thing we do that's not more or less straight sex is an occasional hand job. That's still a lot of fun, she's done it in some unusual places, and a lot in the car, but I have not had a good blow job in ages."

Sandy pouted. "That's too bad. I'll have to take care of that for you."

"I'll look forward to that. But today, I want to cum in your pussy. There's something I want to do for you."

"Oh?? So maybe I shouldn't do this??" Sandy smiled, teasing me.

"No, no, keep on." I thought a minute. "You'll probably never hear this from a guy, ever, but don't let me cum in your mouth."

Sandy laughed out loud. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want to cum in your mouth....said no guy ever." She laughed again. "As you wish..." she took my cock in her mouth and resumed what was turning out to be a masterful blow job, that she cut short, to finish another time. Imagine, a rain check on a blow job!!

Sandy got me close, so close that she did get a nice flow of cum in her mouth before she gave up the chase. She giggled when she felt my cum oozing, then pulled off before I blew the whole load. She opened her mouth, smiling as she showed me the white coating of sperm on her tongue, which she then swallowed enthusiastically.