Daughter Dear, Save Him for Me
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What turns a woman on?
Damned if I know, but I have had several lessons from several women. Take Libby’s mama. I first met her at Libby’s 18th birthday party and thought I noticed she gave me special attention. I was only 17 at the time and she wanted to know when I would be 18.
Within a week Libby called me and led me in a conversation that arranged our first date. Time passed. On several dates her mama appeared when I arrived and left.
I now was on my way to see her mama.
“Come on in”, she said. “I’m glad you came”. She held the door open, her full face showing its near 50 years. She had lived a full life. Her smile promised she wanted more of anything that life had to offer.
Her invitation had not been expected. I answered the phone, was surprised by the mature voice on the other end.
I was hesitant, not knowing what to expect. Normally my mother would have answered the phone but she was in the yard. I didn’t immediately recognize the voice, but was aware that it was a woman, one with a familiar voice. She was quick to say that she was Libby’s mama.
This frightened me.
Had she discovered what had happened between Libby and me earlier that week? In the tone of Mrs. Laird’s voice, I heard something that told me that this was not a concerned phone call.
“I’m so happy you and Libby had such a good time Saturday night. She enjoyed the movie and told me what a wonderful time you had. I do hope you intend asking her out again.”
I relaxed. Libby hadn’t told her mother. I searched for an answer, not
wanting to say Libby had invited me first. I had invited her out again and again.
“Can you come over to my house? I have some baby pictures of Libby that I just found after all these years, and I think she would like me to show them to you”. Mrs. Laird’s voice was friendly, even excited.
Summer vacation would end in two weeks; Libby had told me that, with her two brothers, she was spending the next two weeks with an aunt in Mississippi.
“Yes Mrs. Laird. It’ll take me a few minutes to change clothes and get there.”
I was 17 when Libby asked me out and had just celebrated my 18th birthday. I couldn’t understand why I was not afraid, but Mrs. Laird did sound friendly. As I changed clothes, I thought she sounded enthusiastic. That had to mean that she didn’t know about last Saturday night.
As I walked to Mrs. Laird’s house, a half-mile away, I remembered parking the car, touching one of Libby’s tits. When she relocated my hand, my fingers began to rub silk and then the fingers moved the silk aside.
Libby was wet between her legs, and I moved my fingers into a very warm, very moist nest. I was beginning to understand that I was a man.
I plunged one finger, then another deeper and deeper as the wet spot on my trousers enlarged and the swollen center of my pants rose to an upright position. All the time we were kissing, first my tongue and then her tongue rush into my mouth.
“I want to kiss you here,” I said as I leaned over to position my lips at the spreading knees but they closed suddenly.
My attention came to a new focus as Mrs. Laird opened the door. I walked sideways. That wet spot was obvious on my trousers and the bulge showed ominously. If it did show, but Mrs. Laird canlı bahis didn’t seem to notice.
She offered me a chair in the kitchen where she had spread out babypictures on the table. They showed a little girl, without any clothes. In some she was on a blanket; in others she was in the bathtub.
One of the pictures, yielding a shadowy view between her legs, re-captured my imagination. It seemed to remind me of Saturday night, of the aroma that I remembered.
“They are all of Libby when she was a baby. I think she was so cute then and she is really so pretty now. Don’t you think she is pretty.”
“Yes, Mrs. Laird,” I said shyly.
For the first time I noticed that Mrs. Laird was not wearing a dress. She had a robe wrapped around her, secured with a bow tied in front.
Her hair was carefully combed and she was wearing lipstick, something that was not usually done in the middle of the day.
“She’s real pretty.” I knew I was repeating myself, but I could not think of anything original to say.
“She says you are a good lover.” Mrs. Laird said as she laid her hand on my shoulder. “Does that surprise you that she told me that?”
“And,” she added, “everyone calls me Beth and I would appreciate it if you would call me Beth. You’ve never been around an older woman, have you?” I realized she did not want me to answer her question.
“No, Beth.” I had trouble using her first name, was not answering herquestion. I had to say something.
“We’re no different than girls. We are just more appreciative of a man who cares to make us happy.” Beth slipped her arms around my neck as she leaned over.
“Do you mind if I kiss you?” Not waiting for an answer, she kissed me full on the lips.
My lips didn’t move. She tried it again and this time I tried to respond and tried not to respond. The third time she tried, her tongue forced entry into my mouth and I lost everything.
I turned, stood and wrapped my arms about Beth as she continued to probe at my tongue. Then I started probing as my hands massaged her back and down to the cheeks of her ass.
The cheeks were full, but the muscles were tight as I pulled her to my mound of wetness. We struggled with each other for what seemed liked minutes, our lips meshed, our tongues dueling for the right of entry. My arms moved, trying to get a solid hold of her; the folds of her gown kept strangling my hands.
At first she didn’t notice, then abruptly, she backed away.
My first thought was “I did something wrong.”
Beth didn’t mind my confusion. She was actually enjoying it and pulled away to get control of herself. This was the moment she had wanted since she was thirteen or fourteen and she was not going to allow this 18 year old boy-man to rush her to a climax that she was not ready for.
“You’re the greatest” she said to calm my alarm. “Wait just a moment.”
Slowly, deliberately, enjoying ever minute of the eager anticipation of the boy-man, she deliberately looked at the wet spot on my pants.
“You’ve got something in there that wants to get out. I you wait any longer, you’ll have a hole right in the middle of your pants.”
She licked her heavily coated lips, stepped towards me and unbuckled my belt.
“Now, you do the rest,” she said in a husky voice bahis siteleri as she stepped back, took one end of the belt holding her robe together, and slowly pulled it.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Beth dropped one shoulder, let the robe fall away, then dropped the other shoulder. Under the robe, she was wearing something white, something that hung from thin straps that held it just at the level of her tits.
My eyes were wide as I looked first at the top of the white thing, then down to where it ended just below a dark and distinct shadow.
She moved closer to me, reached out with another kiss. The only parts of our bodies that touched were the lips and tongues.
“Let me help you,” she gasped, and began to undo my zipper. My pants dropped to the floor. Slowly she started slipping my boxer shorts off, then violently dragged them to the floor.
Her cheeks touched my manhood. When she got my shorts to the floor, she was on her knees, her eyes on my manhood. It stood straight and lightly upward, long and glistening with the love juices that my body couldn’t will to stop or start.
She touched it with her tongue, then jumped to her feet, still holding my man tool in both hands. When she was erect, she raised her hands, slowly undoing the buttons of my shirt and pushing it back off my shoulders.
“Beth, Beth, you’re wonderful,” I gasped. Grabbing her I pulled her into me, my hands sliding down her back until each held a cheek in a firm grasp.
I felt ramming movements I was making, not thinking but doing something my brain told me to do.
Putting both hands on my chest, Beth pushed me back. “You are going to fast. We must enjoy this.” She sat on the edge of the table, reached out for me.
“Kiss me like you almost kissed Libby,” she commanded as she lay back on her elbows, spread her legs high in the air.”
That she knew what I had done with Libby didn’t stop me. I didn’t recognize what she had said.
I dropped to my knees and kissed blinding at what had once been a black shadow under the white thing and I rammed my tongue deep into her.
“Oh, my God,” she screamed. “Deeper, deeper.” I tried as hard as I could. She locked her knees around my shoulders, pulled me into her. “Now up just a little bit higher,” she yelled.
I raised my tongue to the clitoris, but did not know what it was. I rammed my tongue into that delicate organ over and over, then began moving the tip side to side. I herd her moans and they excited me even more.
Abruptly, she released her legs from my neck, slid off the table and raised me to her lips. Again I rammed my manhood at the soft, moist inner spot, but found only the inside of her legs.
Beth lowered one of the straps on her shoulder, revealing a large mound that I had only dreamed of. I knew all women had them, but had no real idea of what a breast was.
My eyes locked on the nipple, large and upright on a breast that had only a slight sag. The nipple seemed to grow as I watched.
Instinct told me to grab the nipple in my mouth and I did, enjoying seconds that may have been minutes. I had her right nipple in my mouth, was only faintly aware that my right hand was now reaching down for her wet spot, the fingers moving swiftly as her hips vibrated.
With bahis şirketleri her left hand, she dropped the other strap and cupped the other globe pointing the nipple at my mouth. I grabbed it with my mouth and, with my hands, pushed her breasts together. I sucked one nipple, then the other. The nipples grew longer and harder as I franticly sucked.
Both of my hands were now working in the wet spot between her legs.
I heard her scream, “Now, I’m ready.” She sprawled out on the table, looked at me and said “I want you inside me where I can feel you.” She had her legs high and wrapped then around my neck as I made my first penetration.
Beth seemed to cry and then faint. She had her 18 year old boy-man deep within her, but slowly I withdrew, not with my hips, but with my organ.
As soon as it plunged into the secret channel of love, I felt a sensation that I had never felt before but one that I wanted to feel again and again if I could only stay on my feet. I felt the spurt of my juices for the first time. I wanted to enjoy the sight of the woman in front of me forever, but I couldn’t concentrate.
Like every boy I had relieved myself but the feeling was never as magnificent as this.
Beth recovered first; half turned to the side of the table, and used my hand to bring me around so that my manhood was opposite her face. She wanted to bring it back to life. Gently she stroked it, felt the limp organ begin to harden.
She grasped it in her mouth. With her tongue she flicked the end, with her lips and hands she moved the skin back and forth. In moments I was fully erect again and she rammed her head into my pubic hair burying it’s head deep in her throat.
Again I felt the overpowering emancipation of my body and the weakness that followed.
Libby’s baby pictures had been knocked to the floor, were ignored for the moment. Libby had found her dream and I had experienced the first of many desires that would follow.
“You had better get dressed,” she said as she picked up Libby’s photographs on the floor. As I weakly struggled to get back into my clothes, Beth went with the pictures to another room, returned with a dress.
“Are you all right,” she asked.
“Sure,” I replied. Noticing the time–it was a little after two. He asked,
“When can we do this again.”
Beth licked her lips, smiled. “That depends.”
“On what,” I asked.
“You made a promise not to tell Libby. If she never knows about us, it can happen often. If you tell her, it’ll never happen again.”
“Libby did tell you about what happened on our date?” I was not fully dressed, noticed that she had gathered up the gown and the white thing. She wanted me out quickly.
“Why does she tell you such things.”
“? She’s my daughter. I want her to have all the fun I missed when I was a girl. So I sort of coach her. I am selfish and I wanted to be your first.”
I felt the need to clarify something, in case Libby had failed to tell her mother everything. “I didn’t put it in her like I did you.”
“Because I told her not to let you put it in. I don’t want a pregnant daughter on my hands, but I want her to know how wonderful this thing called sex can be.”
She ushered me out the door. Looking shyly around, I didn’t see anyone. The Laird’s house was not close to other houses, was surrounded by trees. There was a road in front, another on one side. I disappeared into the trees, came out into the road a safe distance from her house.
To Be Continued…
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