This never really happened. Could it have? I’ll never know.
I was the bachelor college buddy of our host’s little brother. I was in town to spend some Christmas holiday time with my buddy Frank and his young wife Beth. The three of us were spending the evening in the comfortable suburban home of Frank’s big brother Ed and Ed’s wife Liz. Beth may have been 19; Frank and I were in our early twenties; Ed and Liz were older than us by perhaps five or six years.
When the booze came out, it became clear that Ed and Frank came from a hard-drinking family. We all sat on the thickly carpeted floor of the living room, we drank, we talked, we drank some more. Conversation wandered among topics in a sort of “drunken walk” fashion. One by one, people passed out on the floor: first Beth, then Ed, then Frank.
I had gotten there as a passenger in Frank’s car. Clearly, we were all going to be staying overnight.
Liz had been sitting a little apart from the rest of us, listening to the conversation and adding a knowing comment here and there. Slim, blonde, and attractive, she was in a casual slacks-and-sweater outfit. I know now that this wasn’t the first time she had seen an evening end like this. As the last head sagged to the floor, she caught my eye.
“Here, I’ll show you where you can spend the night.” She took me into their own bedroom. We walked over to the master bathroom, on the other side of their queen bed, and Liz pulled out some towels for me. She pulled down the covers of their bed, and said goodnight. Once she had left and shut the door, I did my business in the bathroom, then stripped down. I had slept nude since I was 16. I slipped between the sheets, settled myself in the left-hand side of the bed, near the bathroom, and turned out the light.
After a few minutes, the bedroom door opened again. Liz came back in. She came around the bed and over to me.
“Would you like me to tuck you in?” she asked. For the first time that evening, I looked at her — really looked at her.
Liz was only a few inches shorter than me, when I was standing. Her soft pink sweater — the pink went well with her skin tone — looked fluffy, perhaps Angora wool? I’m no expert. Its sleeves covered her arms. I didn’t see a blouse underneath it, but I could see hints of a couple of other things in there.
Her sweater fell over the waistband of her white slacks, which clung almanbahis tantalizingly to her ass and legs.
Her face was difficult to read. She was smiling invitingly. But what exactly was she inviting? What did she have in mind? A chaste peck on the forehead? Some sexy teasing and then departure, which might make her feel attractive, but might make me feel frustrated? Or more?
“Tuck me in?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I do this all the time with Ed’s friends. When they stay overnight, I tuck them in.”
All the time? Then let’s pull on this string. I pulled myself up, enough to let me pull my arms out from under the covers. I put them down at my sides.
“Yes,” I said. “Please tuck me in.”
Liz smiled a shy smile. Her eyes did not look shy. She came closer, leaned over me. Her lips came down to my forehead, to one temple, to the other. She reached down to the bedcovers, adjusting them needlessly while the backs of her hands caressed my chest, my bare pecs, my slowly hardening nipples.
Her lips hovered over mine. I could feel her breath as she seemed to hesitate, then lingered, and then brushed my lips with hers. All still very gentle, very tentative. Not merely foreplay, but courtship: I think I want to; as I get closer, do I still? Step by step, she was deciding whether to relax into this.
My cock, far out of sight under the bedcovers, was beginning to stir. After several moments with her lips on mine, I raised my left hand — slowly, softly, so that I would not alarm her. I brought my hand around, over her right shoulder, behind her head, at the nape of her neck, to entice her to stay closer. She moaned, very quietly.
I put my right hand on her left forearm and caressed her sweater’s sleeve gently. Her hands were beginning to wander around my upper chest and shoulders. I moved my lips to her right cheek, to the lobe of her right ear. Drawing her in gently, I ran my lips down the right side of her neck, to the point where her shoulder begins, to the crew neck of her sweater. Liz’s shoulders began to move, as if they wanted her sweater off of them.
Liz abruptly pulled back. Her hands went to the hem of her sweater, pulled it up. In the blink of an eye, her boobs popped out, she pulled her head out of the sweater, and tossed it across the room. No bra. She must have taken it off after she had left the bedroom, before she had returned.
Ah. almanbahis adres Now I was sure what she wanted. Good.
Liz’s upper chest was flushed. She leaned over me again, her tits dangling, each a little larger than a handful, her right a little smaller than her left. Her areolae were pink and puffy. Her nipples were flushed and red, hard, erect. Everything was adorable. I wanted to reach up and hold them, but I sensed this would be too soon for her.
Liz pulled the covers away from my upper body, lay on me, and rubbed her hard nipples on my chest. We were now kissing without reserve, feeling each other’s tongues. My hands were stroking her bare sides, her bare back, her still-covered ass. My cock, still under the covers, was hard and fully grown.
Liz pulled up, and moved her torso to place her right tit over my mouth. I reached up and latched on. My tongue circled her erect nipple. She groaned. The sound startled me, and I glanced at the bedroom door.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “When he passes out, he sleeps through anything.”
Mollified, I latched onto her left tit, she groaned again, I smiled.
Liz’s pelvis was on mine, supporting the weight of her upper body while I paid my respects to her beautiful bazongas. My hands moved down her sides again, to her slacks. The waistband wasn’t tight at her back. I reached under it. No panties. She must have taken them off too, while she was out of the room! I gave her asscheeks welcoming caresses. I ran a finger down her butt crack. She squirmed.
My cock was getting even harder, if that were possible. I think Liz noticed what her pelvis was resting on. She rolled to her left, reached down with her right hand, and found him, still under the covers.
“Aha, what do we have here?” she said. “Oh, you can’t possibly have a good night’s sleep in this condition. If I’m to tuck you in properly, I need to help you with this.”
Liz rolled further to my right, onto her back. She raised her hips, unfastened her waistband, unzipped, and pulled the slacks off her hips. Hips down and legs up, she whipped the slacks off her legs and off the bed. (Yes, no panties.) She pulled the covers completely off me. Then she rolled back on top of me.
Our lips met again. We squirmed, to rub ourselves all over the other. The feel of so much bare flesh, on so much bare flesh, was amazing, overwhelming. almanbahis giriş Neither of us offered oral attention, and neither of us missed it. We were too busy consuming one another.
After a timeless time, Liz got up on her hands and knees, straddling me. After a few moments, I realized that she was rubbing my cock — with her labia! He was so hard, and they were so wet. She stroked up and down, up and down, never putting his head into herself. There were no words that could describe the feeling. OK, so there still aren’t.
I looked up, and saw her looking at me. Her face looked hungry, intent. Her mind and her heart were taking in where we had started, where we have gone, where we have come. Now she was ready to complete this.
Stroking up and down, up and down, she stroked up, and up a little more. My cock’s head popped free. I squeezed, to lift it up a skosh. Liz stroked back down … and in he went. At first, just the head. As she continued to stroke, she worked more and more of him in.
God, her pussy was hot. Sexy, yes, but more than sexy — it must have been as engorged with blood as my cock: 98.6°F. So hot. So wet. So tight, squeezing every inch of me. My eyes probably rolled up. I don’t remember.
Once Liz had me all the way in, once my groin was flush with hers, I don’t think she continued to piston herself on my cock. I think she used my pubic bone the way a solo woman might use a bedpost: to rub her clit against, until she has her orgasm. I loved it. I remember her collapsing upon me, almost sobbing, covering my face with little kisses, stretching her legs along mine, putting every inch of me against every inch of her. Somewhere during all this, I also came, emptying myself inside her as if I were giving her the core of my being.
And, now exhausted, I began to drift off to sleep. Liz smiled, untangled herself, and stood up on the floor near my side of the bed. She pulled the covers back over me and straightened them, gave me a goodnight kiss, and quietly padded away to the place where she would wake up in the morning as a respectable, married woman.
As she walked away, my eyes fluttered open. My jizz was leaking out of her pussy, down the insides of her thighs. I smiled, and let sleep wash over me.
At breakfast, the next morning, everybody behaved as if nothing had happened but sleep. Ed, Frank, and Beth were nursing staggering hangovers.
But during a brief moment when Liz and I were sitting at the kitchen table alone, I looked at her, smiled with my eyes, and said without a sound, “Wow.” She looked around, then gave me a wicked smile and nodded, “Oh yeah.”
She added, “And Ed agrees.”