The Magazine Girl

I told her that I would look into the withheld wages, do a little digging. Also that if she didn’t object, the first order of the day might be to get her some clothes.

“What’s in it for you? Did it make you feel good to ride to my rescue? I don’t want to be obligated.” Eyes smoldering tinder, suspicious, on guard.

Complete surprise here. I think I got her Irish up. “ It’s up to you,” I said. “I’m in a position to help. that’s all, and if you want it.” I normally don’t miscalculate, but it must have looked egalitarian and scheming, all at once.

We ate in silence, her glancing at me from time to time. She did the dishes while I took a client call to plot a shared well agreement. She came into the study as I finished and perched on the arm of the couch.

“I’ve been an ass. That isn’t me. I felt vulnerable at first this morning. I don’t now. You’re a decent and kind man.”

I smiled sheepishly. Wasn’t expecting nice after the knifing so to say.

She came over to my chair and kissed the top of my head, pulled me to her chest. “I promise, I WILL repay all expenses, somehow, honest!”

I laughed. “All this falls under pro bono, Gwen. Now get yourself ready, we’ve got some shopping to do!”

Fitments for Fillies.

It was a gently used consignment shop that we visited. I explained we could do more at another time, but this was a start. The racks contained both casual and office apparel. First success was a business suit, size three. Just right. Then another. Then we bulked up on cooler weather gear, sturdy things, cashmere, etc. There was also a section for new undergarments, thankfully.

We put the packages in the trunk. Girls like to shop. Girls of all ages like to shop. The lights come on, the eyes sparkle, the excitement grows. I bore fair witness with Gwendolyn, the office assistant in a business suit, the adventurous hiker in latter REI garb, sensible clothing and flats for the mundane, all of it. One thing happened.

I had brought a blouse with lace at the neckline back to the changing area. She bid me in, back to me, nude from the waist up. She turned to accept my selection. She pulled my head down and kissed me on tiptoe, her soft unbound breasts under my startled hands. She smiled knowingly, my captivation her success and dropped my selection over her torso. A pirouette, a childish giggle, acceptance. So innocent.

Later, the washer was churning a load of Gwen clothes. She was cleaning the grill. I went next door, checked the ph in Mitzi’s pool. Past readers know of Mitzi. She now spends most of her time on the Continent, visiting with her daughter Elf and skiing in Bavaria. I checked that the pool heater was on and skimmed the pool for bugs.

Gwen appeared. “Your house phone rang. I answered, is that OK?”

I nodded, “Of course, who was it?”

“A firm in Gainesville. I wrote it down. It’s about a trusteeship?”

“I know them, thanks. I’ll get with them.”

The pump hummed as I reversed some water out from the rain.

“Do you get to use this pool?” Gwen, gliding her hand in the water.

“Yes, for nearly twenty years now. The owner lives in Germany most of the time, like now.” I didn’t launch into the details of that enduring friendship. Discretion, the fine art of.

Time spins...

Dinner was over. The laundry was caught up. Cat came in and jumped up on Gwen’s lap there at the table. Purring ensued from the resultant chin rub. Gwen, delighted.

“You know what we didn’t get today? A swimsuit. Didn’t know there was a pool here.”

“I’ve got one somewhere...”

“No. I mean for me, Mr. Ted.”

When did I become ‘Mr. Ted’? Did I change careers to become a hairdresser? “Swimsuits are vastly overrated. Mine’s been in the drawer forever.”

“Can I borrow a T- shirt? I’d love to swim for a little while...”

It’s darker now. I flicked on the pool light at the deep end. I’m in trunks, with towels from the linen closet. She’s in a borrowed T-shirt that goes to her knees and new panties. The crickets pause from their song as we step into the pool. She dives the rest of the way in, assured of the water’s warmth while I adjust, trying to remember my last visit. I spend too much time remembering, I admonish myself, stop it.

Water splashes in my face, I’m under attack. She squeals as I chase her, a madman, playing the part. She’s suddenly twelve again, full of mirth and merriment until we get to the deep end, the light shining up on her through the shirt, rendering it useless. Gwen unaware, still shrieking, laughing, catching her breath.

The innocence of youth carries forward from happy memories long forgotten, bestirred at unexpected moments. It would be nefarious to destroy that delirious detour over base instinct.

Sudden awareness overtook her. She caught my gaze, understanding her exposure as I glided up. The kiss was tentative, her breasts against my chest, naked almost. A querying tongue, a break for breath. my hand cupping her soft panty clad bottom, roaming those firm pointed beauties with my other. My hardness, the consequence, the reversion to need.

A furtive grasp on my member, a pull, a squeeze. A whisper. “We should swim.” Escaping in a perfect Australian crawl towards the shallows.

We swam a little longer. The pool was warm, but getting out was becoming a consideration as the night grew cooler.

Eventually, shriveled like prunes, we went back to the house, leaving our garments on the screen porch in the dark. Gwen dashed upstairs. As I stepped upon the threshold, I saw a flash of perfect dimpled ass dash through the kitchen as a final treat, then the sound of the shower started upstairs.

I am older. You know it. I know it. You’ve read my stories. I confess to the same lusts and wants I felt as a younger man. It never leaves. Now, of course being alone, it seems to amplify my confusion when beset with these sudden new circumstances. I put on my robe and got down the Glenlivet and a glass. I poured and thought about my earlier intentions to be more avuncular than predator. I was so disappointed in myself. Did I disappoint her with my impulsive behavior in the pool. If so, why did she caress me back? What’s my role in this increasingly complicated circumstance?

I took my tumbler out to the screen porch and watched the moon rising over the forest. An owl winged past silently, initiating it’s nocturnal hunt, the gardener’s friend.

She cleared her throat behind me. “I’m going to bed.”

I turned to see her in her new terry cloth bathrobe, eyes luminous in the growing moonlight. I nodded, smiling, “Sleep well, nymphet, sweet dreams.”

“The pool was a LOT of fun, Mr. Ted. Just wanted you to know.” Big smile.

We said our good-nights. I went into the den and Cat came in, demanding food. I’d forgotten. Cat reminded and went to wait at the food bowl.

I returned from my catly duties. I just put my work away, doused the light and noticed all the lights were off upstairs. Gaining my room in the dimness, ablutions performed, I lowered head to pillow. Long day....

....when her hand reached over to hold mine. “It’s cold upstairs, have you got room?”

I sighed, laid down on my back, let tired muscles relax. Her head was on my shoulder, arm across my chest. I was mentally prepared for sleep, not company as I patted her butt. A few moments later, her breathing evened. She slept, I stared at the ceiling until I too became hostage to Nocturne.

I awoke alone, but her side was till warm. I heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink.

“I had to borrow your toothbrush, Is that OK? It’s still cold upstairs!” Gwendolyn spoke from the doorway, same as birth, unencumbered with the first stitch. The sunlight cascading into the master bath lit her aglow, a siren thus as Homer described. Her red hair aflame in two places, green eyes crinkling and basking in my pleasure as I beheld this tiny montage. The vision surpassed lust, it was ethereal, beyond this man’s belief.

My awakened mind stumbled around the room, dumbfounded. “Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry it’s cold upstairs...no, no I’m not actually sorry you see...well, of COURSE you see...”

She had advanced during this witless diatribe of mine and giggling, perfect small bosoms swaying hypnotically as she regained the bed pulling the sheets around her. “Let’s visit for a minute after you use the same toothbrush Mr. Ted.”

Hint taken, I made for the bathroom, manhood swinging.

Upon return, my spot had been invaded by Cat, who was purring uproariously at this hi jinks and the chin rubbing being received.

She moved Cat to the foot of the bed as I clambered back in. I remember thinking, that this seemed so domestic, so innocuous. The ceiling fan spun slowly. Cardinals chirped on the lawn as this new day began. She leaned over me, trailing her fingers in my pubes, hefting my balls then barely touching my growing shaft, fingers enveloping my manhood. The touch was so light, so feathery. I groaned, pushed up into her hands, those hands, along with her face hidden in a waterfall of red hair.

Her hands abandoned me when I pushed up, only for my manhood to be received in a delicate kiss. The tip of her tongue traced the ridge of my cock’s head, only to dip and lightly tongue the back of my hardened shaft. My breath caught as her mouth finally encompassed my head, sucking the tip. Gwen’s hand grazed my shaft, lifting and dropping my tightened sac.

My felatrix now got on all fours to my side, accepting more of me into her mouth. I began running my hand over her, hefting her breasts, trailing down her oh so cute, dimpled ass, squeezing a cheek as she became more rapt in her attentions. My first slight caress of her hidden furrow gave her pause, and she, suspending her work arose above me, a knee to each side, a breast above my lips.

A dreamy faraway look stole across her countenance. A whisper. “Would you like to kiss them?”

I pulled her to me, her pointed tautness lowered to my greedy lips. I kissed her as she had me, feeling her attention grow as I loved one then the other, a kiss, a pinch, hearing her sigh above.

Then a sound of impatience, muting as I finally suckled, drawing in her tips in succession, their pointed hardened peaks my reward. My hands held her ass cheeks, her sex inches over my belly and ever so close to my stiffness. Suddenly, her warm wet mouth replaced her breast, tongue invading mine, her breath flaring on my cheek as she eased down on me.

I could feel the tantalizing closeness of her pussy, first the soft down against the back of my of my manhood, then her pubis as she rubbed her cleft against me. A gasp, more of a squeak escaped her lips. Quietly from her, “Oh God, yes. Yes.”

I was rubbing myself against her sex, holding her bottom, when she rose up, a hand between us placed me at her entrance. She stirred me around, laving her wetness on my end.

Gwen labored above me, eyes tightly closed, at last starting my tip into her core. In one fluid like twitch of her hips, I was half in. I felt her hot wetness and tried to thrust upwards, to consummate. She would rise with me, denying deeper entrance. I tried again, holding her hips, to mate, but to no avail.

Her vixen green eyes sparkled and a knowing smile stole across her face, “I’ve got a hold of you, don’t I?” With that she grasped me from within whilst pulling up, nearly emptying herself of me.

I moaned, attempting to thrust back in.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Mr.” She danced her hips in my hands, swaying side to side with me barely encased within her hot ecstasy. Then, another swoop enclosing me to mid-shaft, no further, and again clamping on me, pulling up, then down, just barely each way. Staring into my eyes, Gwen licked her hand and reached down between us, pumping me, patting my balls. She used her hand to prevent deeper entry, much to my chagrin. It was urgent for me to have her now. She rode above me, her hand caressing us both, challenging me, with her long red hair framing her upturned tits.

My composure was shattered. How could one so young be so proficient, so alluring, so incredibly teasing? As I took those perfect titties in my hands, I felt the first stirrings of my impending explosion.

So did she. She pulled up, nearly out, so that her wetness within flowed onto me, down my shaft, wetting her stilled hand.

“I think someone is in a hurry,” she breathed. “Do you have an appointment? No? Somewhere you have to be? As in right now? No? But you’re about to come in me. You’re just SO naughty!” She giggled. More juice flowed.

I groaned anew as she squeezed on my balls, forcing my precum into her slit. Then jacking me, feeling me build and tremble once more. I grabbed her delightful ass, that dancing, denying focus of my red hazed lust. My only intention now was to consummate, to take this young woman deeply, to the hilt of her flaming thatch and breed her deeply. But, alas....

With a flick of her hips, my cock was no longer joyfully entrapped. She slid down the bed before I could protest, replacing that teasing pussy with her wanton mouth, giggling in her throat at my imminent rapture. She was absolutely delighted! Almost casually, she licked me over the edge, her mouth pulling my surrender from me, spurt by spurt, welcomed and swallowed, emptying me. I could see the darkness coming across my mental plains, the delirium of pleasure so focused on the expiation from my cock’s head as she returned to licking and sucking it until gasping, I had to lift her head away. She smiled, reaching for my water glass, nipples rubbing across my naked chest.

She looked at me over the rim of the glass. “I didn’t have any protection, sorry.”

I lay speechless, still seeing the storms of Eros muttering off in the distance.

Cat forayed over to where Gwen now sat Indian fashion on the scattered sheets. She rubbed the purring chin as the animal plopped down at her knees. From my perspective I saw grey cat. Further past folded knees I beheld beautiful red fur, straight and soft as ermine, so dense as to obscure her femininity almost entirely from view.

“When you can talk, tell me where the grits are.” She grinned. “I’m hungry for some reason.”