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Mart 30, 2021 0 Yazar: admin

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It started eight months ago. She was at a gig in a pub quite near my house. It started snowing while she was in the concert, and by the time she got out it was the usual chaos that first snowfall always brings. No taxi to be had, and heavy snow still falling, no chance of a bus at that time of night. So I got a rap on the door at half one in the morning, and stood in my dressing gown with bleary eyes facing two frozen teen-aged girls.

Carly had been accompanied by Genie. (I’m not making that name up. Gennifer for long) I knew Carly because I knew her mother. I sometimes worked with her. I had met Carly when she was a kid, and she had been to my flat with her mum a few times. So her turning up at my place that night sort of made sense.

They rang home and said they were staying with me, and I spoke to her mother and said it was okay. I gave them blankets and pillows and told them they could fight over who got the sofa. My flat had only one bed. What might have been the second bedroom was my office and workshop.

So they settled down and I staggered off to bed and was just drifting off when I heard a sound.

It was a gasp, followed by a giggle, and a half whispered “Be quiet, you’ll wake him!”

A slight less whispered reply was quick to follow “Who cares? Maybe he’d come and play too?”

“Eeww! No way!”

“What do you mean ‘Eeww’? I think he’s quite dishy.”

“More like dishwater! Honestly Carly, you have no taste in men!”

“I won’t argue, because you are simply wrong, I think he is very handsome, and a nice guy, and his big deep voice is very sexy. But at least you will agree that I have a very good taste in girls. Who taste very good.”

This last pronouncement was followed by a small squeal, a giggle and some moans, with faint kissing and sucking noises.

It was clear what was going on. The question was what to do?

I had realised that it was Carly who had said she fancied me, Genie who had made the disgusted sound. It was also clearly Carly who had started kissing the other girl again and, I was quite sure, going down on her. Should I wander out and interrupt? Go and play?

The sound of Genie’s heavy breathing, rasping in her throat, interspersed with suppressed gasps and cries, was fascinating, and dreadfully arousing. If I walked out there now, naked and with a throbbing hard on, how would they react? Would Carly really welcome me, or would the pair scream and cry rape? Would an already aroused Genie beckon me on and get over her avowed aversion? Would it turn out that Carly’s talk was all just front, like Mena Suvari in American Beauty?

I heard Genie come. It couldn’t be anything else. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, ears straining, heart racing, cock pulsing.

Silence. What was happening? Was it too late to go out there now?

I imagined them curled up around each other, naked, or just semi dressed, gently kissing and drifting to sleep. I couldn’t walk in on that. Screams would be certain.

I quietly went to the door and listened again. There were faint sounds of low voices. Intimate talk, pillow talk.

Was that a sigh? A groan?

Yes. A groan, and a gasp. And Carly’s voice deepened by lust saying “Oh god, girl, you are good at that!”

Then a high pitched squeak, and a laugh, and more groaning.

Genie was playing with Carly now. Frigging her? Licking her out? Who was on top? Were they both naked?

My mind raced, images set themselves to the sounds I heard, and I hardly noticed that my hand was stroking my foreskin back and forth in time to the girlish sighs and gasps that made me think of soft hair and hard fingers, firm breasts, slick lips, pulsing flesh, heat and sweat and sweet sticky …

I came. I think I was quiet. Certainly the girls didn’t seem to notice, and carried on for several minutes more until Carly shrieked.

I made it back to bed and lay there trembling.

In the quiet that followed I was wide awake, berating myself.

On the one hand I was a coward, a pathetic solitary wanker, jerking off to the sounds of two gorgeous, nubile, sexually charged and willing girls, who would have welcomed me to join a threesome and fuck them both all night, if I just had the balls to open the door.

On the other hand I was a dirty old man, a pervert, a potential rapist, a betrayer of the trust given to me by Carly’s mother and Genie’s parents.

At least, I consoled myself, even if I had perhaps just missed the opportunity of a lifetime, I had missed the opportunity of a long time in jail.

I woke late. I had not set an alarm, and I had just finished one hell of a week at work. I had needed the sleep, and had no plans for the day. I drifted up to consciousness, and revelled in the warmth of the duvet and the knowledge that it was Saturday. It took a few moments for the memory of the night before to kick in. I was suddenly, absolutely, awake.

No sound. I threw on a robe, and then rethought my outfit eve gelen escort and added boxer shorts.

I cautiously opened the door into my living room, and looked around. I couldn’t see any sign of either of them. My flat had only one bathroom, accessible from the hall or as an ensuite from the other (larger) bedroom/office. I made my way towards it, and hesitated at the door. I could hear the shower.

‘Shit. I have two teenage lesbians in my shower, and I need a pee,’ was the thought that bubbled angrily to mind. Then I caught myself on. I grinned. Why am I angry? I have two naked teenage girls who are bisexual, according to their conversation, in my shower. How often am I ever going to be able to say that?

But what to do about it?

I needed to pee. I could grab a pint glass from the kitchen… Or just walk in to the bathroom and be brazen about it. After all, catching them both in the shower would be the sort of thing they wouldn’t want to tell their parents…

I settled for knocking on the door, and calling “Sorry to disturb you girls, will you be long?”

A voice replied “Hang on a second.”

I heard the shower stop, and about five seconds later the door opened. Carly was wrapped in a towel. She had opened the door wide, unconscious (perhaps?) of her effect on me.

“Come on in,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, looking past her, “I thought Genie was in here too.”

She raised an eyebrow at me and said “You thought we were in the shower together?”

I’m sure I blushed. I stumbled out “No, no, I, I wasn’t thinking that, it’s just she isn’t in the living room, and I assumed you’d both be doing your makeup or whatever.”

She gave me a smile that made me blush and stammer more. “I mean, girl’s go to the loo together in pubs all the time… I wasn’t suggesting anything…”

“Really?” she said, with an inflexion that made me squirm internally. She followed it up with an off hand tone, saying “As a matter if fact, Genie had to go to work this morning. She has a part time job with a stall at the St George’s Market. So she was up and showered by herself hours ago.” She had put some emphasis on the words ‘by herself’, but after a moments pause she carried on, saying “Not that I would mind if you did think things like that about me and Genie. After all, they are all true.”

She flashed me another smile, and turned towards the shower cubicle, saying “I do like having a shower with her. Good clean fun, as my Granny would say. Although I don’t think she means the same thing.”

She turned again to look at me as I stood open mouthed. “Of course it is fun with a man too.”

I think I made some incoherent noise, and she smiled at me again, and said “Sorry, I’m keeping you back. I expect you wanted in here to use the loo. Please go ahead, you won’t disturb me. I need to wash my hair now.”

She turned, dropped the towel and stepped into the shower cubicle with her back to me. She turned on the shower again, stepped under it, and began to lather her hair, while I stood and watched, and tried to breathe. She was simply gorgeous. She was smooth, her back muscles flexing, her bottom full and tight, her calves and ankles slim, her long curly hair stretched straight and shiny by the water.

The penny dropped. This was real. I wasn’t dreaming. She had made it clear, without saying it, that she liked having male company in the shower. This wasn’t a bluff or a naïve flirtation.

Despite my hard on I went to the toilet and managed to relieve myself. Then I turned, and stepping out of my boxers, moved towards the shower cubicle, just as she turned round to face me.

Water and lather cascaded down her face, off her chin, around her neck and over her stunning breasts. Her dark nipples were crinkled and pointed, the curves of the two firm mounds diverted the flow, and a large blob of foam dragged my eyes with it as it slid between them, over her smooth stomach, clinging for a second to her navel, before slipping into the dark curly bush below.

She had her hands raised to rinse the conditioner from her hair, which emphasised the projection of her breasts, of course, and she stood with one foot slightly forward, in the classic pose of beauty queens and models. She knew, with her eyes closed, that I was there with eyes wide open.

My heart pounded, adrenaline coursed. Hell with it. I let my robe fall, and stepped into the cubicle, taking her straight into my arms, pulling her slippery naked body against mine and bringing my lips to hers, kissing her for the first time. It was a passionate, lust filled, demanding kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes about what I wanted, what I expected. I was pleased that she returned it with enthusiasm.

Right up to that moment I had feared that Carly had been playing silly girl games. She might have screamed and tried to push me off. Thinking about it now, I have to ask myself what I would have done in that case. I hope I would fatih escort have been a gentleman. But I am glad I didn’t need to make that choice.

She melted against me, and gripped me as she returned the kiss. I heard her groan as she felt my cock press against her stomach, and she slipped her legs open around my knee. Her tongue touched mine, her hands, still slippery with the stuff on her hair, slid sensuously to the small of my back, and her breasts pushed against my chest. In my hands I felt her shoulder blades and then the sweep of her spine and the soft curves of her firm backside.

It had been a while since I had felt a young woman like that in my arms. I was more than ready to take her there and then, lift her up and spread her legs and slam into her, hard and fast and deep. Her frantic hard kisses and groping fingers suggested that she would welcome such an approach, but suddenly she broke away and pushed me back a little, still gripping my arms tightly as she looked up at me and panted.

The water fell in the space between us, cascading down my chest, splashing on her breasts, sweeping over my cock and her mons. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed, and said “Oh, boy, that’s more like it! Christ! Its been a long time since I had a man kiss me!”

She almost shook as she closed her eyes and ground her crotch against my leg for half a second, and them looked at me again and said “Oh, god but I want your cock in me.”

She grabbed it. Rinsed clean by the shower, it was hard enough to hurt. It felt a whole lot better when she dropped to her knees and took it in her mouth.

After the initial physical surprise a second moment of shock hit me. I was looking down at this beautiful girl, both of us naked, as she sucked on my cock and looked up at me, her eyes smiling, her hand wanking my shaft, the other hand cradling my balls. The shock was that this was Carly.

Eighteen years old, my friend’s daughter, a girl I knew as a cute pigtailed ten year old with a front tooth missing, and as a spotty, snotty, pain in the ass hormotional fourteen year old who lucky to live to be fifteen. The one I had wanted to protect from the world, the other I had a strong desire to throttle. Now my desires were very different, and being fulfilled.

The momentary pang of guilt (with flash of concern about what her mother would say if she found us like this) was swept away by the tingling in my balls and the lustful admiration I felt for her superb bosom. Classical sculptors and casting directors for lingerie shoots would cry and beg to work with her as a model.

I wanted to hold them, kiss them, suck them, watch them bounce as she rode me, or as she lay on her back and I ploughed her. The idea of that would have stiffened me further, but the way she was sucking me had already raised me to my limit. The girl had talent as well as looks, and most importantly of all, enthusiasm. If I let her carry on I knew I wouldn’t last long, and I wanted this to last. I wanted her legs wrapped round me and my cock in her body, balls deep, when I came.

I reached down and touched her cheek, and pulled her up to me. She rose, kissing my left nipple on the way past to my lips. I had to return the complement and slid down to my knees, in worship of this nubile goddess.

Her nipples hardened under my tongue, and I let my hands roam around her back and over her hips, taking her firm buttocks in my grip, pulling her body against me. She lifted a leg and put her foot on my thigh, opening access to the cleft between hers, and I accepted the invitation to run a finger round the curve of her bottom, over her exposed ass and onto her puffy pussy lips.

I could feel they were shaved, and thick and firm, opening to my pressure, and letting me touch the softness within. Carly was wet inside, slippery and warm, and she arched her back and pressed down against my hand to take my finger in deeper.

I heard her groan as I looked up at her, and saw her eyes were unfocussed. My thumb found her clitoris, and I felt her legs tremble as I drew a small circle round it with the tip while my tongue drew another around the nipple in my mouth.

She trembled again and gasped and looked down at me wildly. For a moment she was still, wide eyed and mouth open, the shower jet bouncing off the back of her head to give her a halo above me, but then she grabbed me by the ears and pulled me back up, grunting “No, not yet!”

She held the back of my neck and kissed me hard, and at the same time wrenched my hand away from her vulva. “Too fast!” she gasped, and held me still, an inch from her both sets of her lips. She panted and then opened her eyes and looked deep into mine, and said “Turn round.”

I was surprised by her request but complied as she spun me by the shoulders. She stopped me and ran a hand down my back to clutch my buttock. “Hmmn,” she said, and I felt her other hand rub my back. “You are beautiful,” she murmured. “I was playing halkalı anal yapan escort with myself in here when I heard you knock. I was imagining you with me in the shower. I was almost about to come, thinking about you fingering me when I heard your voice.” Her arms came round me, clutching my chest, then one hand settling on my stomach, agonising inches away from my cock. “God but you feel good., she said as she pressed her head against me. I could feel her whole body as she squeezed me to her.

Then she said in a serious tone, “I’m going to wash you now, and then we can get dried off, and you can take me to bed. Okay? Just let me wash you, and dry you. This is important to me.”

I said “Sure.” What else could I say?

She stepped back and I heard the click of the shower gel bottle, and felt the cool soap on her hand as she applied it to my back. She worked efficiently, her fingers exploring my muscles, over my shoulders and arms, my back and buttocks, and down my legs. I was glad I had joined the gym last year. She worked her way back up each leg from my feet, having soaped between my toes as if I was a child. When she got to my upper inner thigh she pushed outwards to spread my legs. I complied.

It was strange. This was almost clinical, almost hypnotic, almost not sexy. Of course as her hand came up to cradle and caress my balls I was turned on again, and as it slid back to soap around my anus and perineum I was caught by the intimacy of the act. I was also struck by the way she so openly and acceptingly handled those most hidden and so often shameful parts.

She rinsed me and made me lean back as she shampooed my hair. Then she slid around me and backed me into the jet to wash the foam out. I made to say something and to lean forward to kiss her as she worked, but she put a finger to my lips and pushed my head back gently, so the water ran down my face and I stood with closed eyes as she soaped my chest and my legs and washed my cock.

Suddenly it was over. The water stopped and I opened my eyes, and she was stepping out of the cubicle, and wordlessly she lifted a towel and beckoned me. I stepped out and she dried me, and somehow I knew I should say nothing, and when she was finished I lifted a new towel and dried her, as softly and thoroughly as she had dried me. I explored every crease and line, curve and crevice. It was intimate, delicate, wonderful.

At the end we stood facing each other, clean and more naked than I had ever been, and we both smiled. Then, in a moment of heartbreaking beauty, she glanced down and up again, a half second of girlish shyness.

I smiled, and she beamed. We held hands for a second and then I turned to the door and lead her across the living room, and into the bedroom.

She laughed then, and said “Oh, you’re kidding!”

I smiled, a little embarrassed. “No. I don’t have company that often.”

She looked from the single bed to me, and raised a hand to touch my cheek, and stepped close to me to kiss me in the softest, slightest, most gentle way. Then she looked me in the eyes and said “Well, it will have to do for today. But I don’t expect to sleep on the sofa next time I stay over.”

And then she kissed me again and there were no more words for a long time.

We made love.

It is hard to describe it as anything else. We didn’t fuck, we didn’t screw, we didn’t shag. But we did kiss and caress and lie together on the narrow bed. We took our time, and I reined back the rising urge to grasp and spread and plunge, and I felt the tension in her as she controlled her desire.

It was strange. I have had a fair few lovers over the years, mostly of about the same age as myself, but this was without doubt one of the most profound, mature, grown up experiences of my life. The moment I penetrated her, the look in her eyes of willing and wanting, desire and gratitude, hope and joy and fulfilment, that moment of giving myself to her, and receiving so much back, that moment will live with me forever. And as we moved together, bodies entwined, a flowing grinding of hips and heartbeats, stealing each others breath, sharing every movement, I reached a place I had hardly known before.

It was peace on earth, peace in my heart. I was almost obliterated in her presence. She surrounded my every sense. And inside that world of softness and warmth and beauty and sweetness and sensual sighs and cries and the musk and honey smell of her, I was free.

She came. I came. I stayed hard as she clung to me and kept moving and built up again and came again, and I pushed her on and on again and a second wave of ultimate pleasure washed me away.

In our narrow bed (ours now, no longer just mine) I lay with her on top of me and listened to her breathe. For a moment I thought she was going to fall asleep, but she roused herself, bringing her head up in a fluid, languid, immensely sexy movement. Her eyes were dark brown, and her pupils were so wide they were almost black.

She spoke softly, a slight hoarseness in her throat. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I replied.

“That was… That was good.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Very. Thank you.”

She smiled broadly “Thank you. I was hoping it would be.”

And then, remarkably, she blushed, and buried her head on my chest.

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