Convalescent Leave

26 Ocak 2022 0 Yazar: admin

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Asian

Back when I was in high school, I held quite a few jobs. One of my most enjoyable was baby-sitting this kid who lived across the way from me. His name was Brandon, and when I first started watching him he was eight or nine. He had three older siblings, the youngest of whom, Theresa, was only a year ahead of me in school. Sometimes I’d spend entire Saturdays over at their house, whether I was working or not. I shouldn’t even call it work, even though I was getting paid. I looked at Brandon as the younger brother I never had. I started watching Brandon in my sophomore year of school, and did so up until I graduated and left for the military, after which we lost contact.

OK, enough background, let me get to the actual focus of this story. While I enjoyed spending as much time as I could with Brandon, actually being around my employer was certainly a nice fringe benefit. Brandon’s mother, Cheryl, was the first older woman that I’d ever been attracted to. She was a few years older than my mom, had beautiful brown skin, large, luscious breasts and an ass to die for. She was career-driven woman and a single parent, and a great one at that.

It’s now been six years, four promotions, nine tattoos, a tour each in both Afghanistan and Iraq, and a bullet wound since I first left home to join the Army, and man, had things in my hometown changed. Most of the people I went to high school with were either dead, in jail, married, divorced, had kids, or any or all of the above. It seemed like the ones who had succeeded had done so outside the state of Delaware. I can’t say I don’t sympathize, having done the same thing myself.

I was at home for the first time in almost three years on a 60-day convalescent leave after being shot in combat. (I wasn’t really injured badly enough to need the convalescent leave, but I had to either take the leave days before the beginning of the next fiscal year, or lose them. So I pulled some strings, called in some favors, and was out of theater within two weeks.) I knew Cheryl and Brandon had moved upstate since I had left home, but I was still hoping to hear from them. Surprisingly enough I did, only a week into my vacation. We immediately made plans to see each other and, since having my own vehicle made me the more flexible party, I drove up to Newark to visit them Friday afternoon at their new place.

Man, was I surprised when I got there. Brandon was seventeen and in his last year of high school. He had grown almost as tall as me, and was actually bigger than I was. Cheryl, meanwhile, hadn’t changed a bit; although she was now 46 years old, she was still as attractive and sexy as I remembered her. We sat and ate dinner, with the focus mostly being on my “war stories.” After a while, Brandon’s dad came to get him, presumably to spend the weekend together. At that point I got my stuff ready to leave, when Cheryl invited me to lunch the next day, “as adults.” I had no idea what “as adults” meant, but I did know that it involved just the two of us. I didn’t even care though my mom lived a good hour and change south of Cheryl’s house; I’d have driven all the way to Philadelphia if it meant a chance to see her one-on-one.

I arrived at Cheryl’s place the next day around 3. She had just finished cooking, and whatever it was smelled delicious. We ate and talked for nearly three hours, a lot of which was telling the complete (read: graphic) accounts of the same war stories I’d told the night before. It didn’t matter though; as long as I was talking to Cheryl, it didn’t matter about what. Until, that is, we moved over to the couch, and the “as adults” part came into play:

“So tell me Michael, what’s your love life like?”

I almost choked, she caught me so off guard. I had never şişli escort expected her to be this direct. “Well, since I’ve been in the desert, it’s been a while, but when I’m on home station, well, it’s steady.”

“Steady as in one steady person? She must be a lucky lady.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I mean steady as in a steady supply of lucky ladies. I tried the committed, monogamous relationship thing once, and I’m in no hurry to try it again.” There was a look on her face, of what I couldn’t tell; of shock that I was being so open with her, of relief that I was single, or what. “Well? Your turn.” I pushed the envelope.

“My what?”

“What’s your love life like?”

“My what?”

“OK… that certainly answered that question.” In truth I didn’t need to ask that; the only times I had ever baby-sat for her, I had always seen her with a briefcase in hand. “I had long surmised you didn’t date much, although I had occasionally fantasized you being a lesbian. But that’s neither here nor there.” The shock value of my comment hit home, as her jaw hit the floor and I doubled over with laughter. “Being in the Army has certainly put an edge on you, Mike.”

“To say the least, Miss Cheryl, to say the least.”

“Oh come on now, like I said, we’re both adults here. You can drop the ‘Miss.'” I was glad. Cheryl sounded a lot sexier, and having sex with someone I called ‘Miss’ didn’t quite excite me as much.

It was one thing when I thought the above thought; it was another thing altogether when she said it, with the notable exception being the substitution of a certain four letter word as opposed to ‘having sex with.’ I had waited all day to hear those words, yet I was sure I hadn’t heard right.

“Michael, I remember you as a scared, skinny little freshman when you first moved here. But I always knew you would grow into a handsome young man and that once you did…” She literally threw herself on top of me after those words. Her lips tasted like the stairway to heaven itself. I managed to get an arm free enough to take my glasses off and set them on the coffee table. We kissed like two teenagers, before she got up and racing to the bedroom, shedding clothing as she went. Not to be outdone, I left my own attire in the living room and followed her. She was on her back with her knees raised, hiding her pussy from my direct sight.

People wonder where the term “muff diving” comes from should have seen me when I moved to the foot of her bed. She had her legs spread, her pussy staring me right in the face. So I did what any reasonably thinking person would do (not to say that I was capable of any thought, reasonable or otherwise at the time): I dove face-first into her muff (get it? muff diving?) and licked and sucked with reckless abandon. I soon found myself face to face with the biggest clit I had ever seen, and it was just begging to be sucked. Or maybe the begging was coming from its owner, not that it mattered. I sucked that clit like there was no tomorrow, causing Cheryl to moan, first loudly, then even louder, until she bit down on her lip and started quivering. I knew what that meant, so I put my mouth over her lips and waited patiently. I wasn’t disappointed; she began leaking the thick, white nectar that I’ve come to expect from thick black women. I greedily lapped it all up before coaxing some more out with my tongue.

Cheryl was exhausted; having an earthquake of a climax after going for so long without one will do that to you, I guess. I was at least gentleman enough to ask her if she wanted to rest a few minutes.

“Rest? Boy, are you gonna give me that dick or am I gonna have to come get it?” was her exact response.

Hey, şişli escort bayan ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.

She handed me a tube of lubricant, which I applied sparsely to her cuntlips. People talk about first impressions; I certainly made sure to impress my cock into her pussy as far in as it would allow me. It took some work just to keep Cheryl from crawling up the wall, but I managed to get inside with losing any skin. Man, that was the tightest, wettest, hottest coochie I had ever been in, and what made it sweeter, was that some seventeen years ago, a kid that I used to baby-sit popped out of that same coochie. We wrapped our arms around each other and Cheryl looked me dead in the eyes. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful her eyes were; two emeralds set in her angelic face. She asked me to be gentle, since it had been a while.

I couldn’t resist. “How long is a while?”

She cocked her eyes at me. “Don’t worry about it; just be happy you’re getting it now.”

I stabbed her with my dick, causing her to let out a slight yelp. “Tell me,” I said, half-joking.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. I need to know if I should be ‘months-gentle’ or ‘years-gentle.'”

“If you insist, the last time I had sex, I ended up pregnant. You figure it out from there.” I remember Cheryl had had a daughter pass away recently; she was six at the time, and she had died two years ago. I did the math and came up with, “Wow…fuh-king-wow.”

“So you get the picture now?”

I had. I made slow, sweet love to her, nuzzling her neck, nibbling her ears, and a bunch of other romantic crap I used mostly as foreplay to get a woman naked in the first place. She was really getting off on it, though, so I just kept it up, slowly moving my hips as her pussy got increasingly wetter around my dick. The first time I actually took a long stroke, she clenched her legs around my waist, threw her head back, and let out that noise that people sometimes make. You know the one I’m talking about: the inaudible one, when something just feels so damn good that the sound to define it simply doesn’t exist. If you haven’t heard that one, well…

But back to Cheryl. I was supporting myself on my hands and knees, and she clung to my torso much like a koala hangs down from a tree branch. We shared another kiss and she lowered her shoulders back down to the bed, keeping her hands laced behind my head. I cupped her ass in my hands and pulled her toward my pelvis, pushing my manhood deeper into her vagina with each stroke. I got into a rhythm that almost felt like I was using her to jerk myself off (if anyone can comprehend that feeling). I could feel Cheryl’s pussy collapsing and expanding as she succumbed to countless orgasms. After she had cummed herself asleep, I laid her back on the bed, covered her up, and went to the kitchen to get a drink.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda; when I closed the door, I was more than a little surprised to find Cheryl behind it. “We are not finished yet…well, at least I’m not.” She pushed me into the living room and back onto the coffee table. She mounted me and simply engulfed my pecker with her well warmed-up cunt. All I could think of was what jackass had let this little minx get away. Cheryl was now acting like she had once been this foxy lady who oozed with sensuality, but something had pushed that side of her personality into the background and only now was it pushing back to the forefront.

Cheryl rode my dick like no other woman I’ve ever known, either before her or since. “How long are you on leave for?” she gasped between bounces.

“Seven more weeks.”

“Oh my god… that means forty-nine escort şişli days of having this wonderful dick in my tight little chocolate pussy…” She came as her own words spilled over her lips, which I took as a cue to kick my own censors to the curb.

“Oh, you like my fat cock, huh?”

“Oh god yes, Michael, I love having your fat cock in my pussy.”

“Ohhh, yeah, I love making your pussy wet with my tongue, and then sliding my huge rod in you.”

“Mmm, I love when you eat my little snatch and make me come all over your face.”

“And you’re gonna do the same for me, right?”

“Oh, you know it baby, I’m gonna be your little sex slave.”

There’s not too many ‘wrong’ things a woman can say to me; she can tell me she’s married, pregnant, gay, whatever. ‘Sex slave,’ though, were the two words that just didn’t mix, because I have, can, and will take it to some pretty wild extremes. “Oh really? You gonna be my little fucktoy?”

“Oh yes, all yours, and no one else’s.”

“I like the sound of that, so let’s see what kind of a slut you are.” I bent her over the back of the couch and lightly brushed my tip against her slit. “You want this again, huh?”

“Oh yeah Michael, give me that dick, I’m on fire for it!”

“You telling me what to do… hmm, that just won’t do.” I could tell Cheryl was willing to sell her left nipple if it left a hole for me to fuck her in. “From now on, you are to call me Master. When I call, you come, and when I order, you do. Is that clear, slut?”

“Yes, Master,” were the only words out of her mouth.

“Then take my cock in your hand.” She silently obeyed, taking my member into her right hand and holding it barely away from her slit. I expected her to back her snatch up onto it, but she didn’t. I guess she’d been a sub in the past as well. Not that it mattered; here and now, she was mine. I stepped forward and effortlessly parted her lips and placed Cheryl’s hand back on the couch. “Are you ready to be fucked, slut?”

“Yes, Master.”

I began to move slowly in and out of her. I felt her orgasm building up. “Are you going to come, slave?” I asked her.

“No Master, not without your permission.”

It was almost no fun; it was like moving into a pre-decorated house. Half the fun is conditioning it the way you want it. I didn’t care though; I didn’t want a slave anyway. What I wanted was a kind, caring individual who just happened to be a sultry cockhound behind closed doors. I brought her to orgasm one final time then said, “Are you ready for me to come in your pussy now?”

“Yes Master, I want to feel your hot sperm oozing out of me.”

I swatted her smartly across the bottom and yanked her hair back. “You speak only when spoken to, do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.” I kissed her full on the mouth before pushing her head back down. I began to pump furiously at her hot little box, which was already overflowing with her own juices. “Fuck me Michael, make me your little hot-assed whore! This pussy is all yours, anytime, anywhere you fucking want it. Go-oooo-od-damn, you make my pussy feel so fucking good, I’m so full of cock, ohhh, shit I’m gonna cum again!” As I felt another tsunami of an orgasm hit her pussy, I had no choice. Try as I might to resist, I could not help but erupt, spewing my cum like a volcano until it overflowed Cheryl’s helpless cunt!

As we showered together, Cheryl dropped some very valuable information on me: she was working night shift in Dover, which is only thirty minutes away from my mom’s house. So for the next forty-nine days I went to her house every day, fucking her senseless while Brandon was at school. Then I’d meet her at work and fuck her there as well. One Saturday night I went out and met another woman; the next time I talked to Cheryl, she talked us both into having a threesome. Suffice it to say, all the gas money I spent driving up and down the state was paying dividends like never before.

Never mind the bullet wound it took to get me home in the first place!!!

THE END

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32