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Mary was my girlfriend?s room mate in a small Southern college town. You?d know the town by reputation if I named it, and yes the place lived up to the party central smile that usually went with ?Oh, you go there! Is it as wild as they say?? I?m amazed at just how much pleasure we?ve learned to tolerate here and not call it torture. But as Mary pointed out, like even the wonders of marital sex, pleasure can become routine. Which is where I come in. Routine has never happened to me in any great detail.
Because of the ups and downs of my relationship with my girlfriend, Mary knew me better than I knew her. What I knew, and tried to notice without staring, was that Mary was a smokin? hot divorce, with pear shaped breasts and thick, dark nipples that she seemed strangely shy about around the house. Maybe her shyness was because her breasts were screaming ?suck me, lick me, bite me? from beneath her T-shirts. And yes, I wanted to help them in their struggle to be free.
Not at the cost of a seriously fragile relationship, though. At least until the famous Friday night that has changed my life happened.
It?s not really possible to be alone with a woman that exudes sex from every pore of her being and stay away from her, is it? Place a hot for sex woman in the center of a dimly lit room and even the furniture moves toward her. I?ve noticed that. And it?s not just men that respond. Women, even women that aren?t gay or bi are drawn to another woman with sex fever. Maybe it?s a DNA thing that keeps our species going.
Wherever it comes from, my girlfriend closed the door on her cab and headed to the airport for four days of higher learning conferences, and I milled around getting ready to go to a local stock car race that evening in hopes of publishing some photos. Mary went to her room. That went pretty smoothly: out of sight, out of mind. At least for those of us with short memories.
The racetrack was outside an even smaller town, about a half an hour drive from the house. Camera bag, ham sandwich, and keys to my jalopy in hand, I headed for the front door. And the tv, the couch, the dining room chairs and I somehow sort of drifted towards Mary?s room. Kind of like the bumpers on a game table that guide the ball. I was the ball. All Mary said was, ? Can you help me with this? I?m afraid I?ll fall.?
Mary was standing halfway up a ladder, trying to change the light bulb in her ceiling fan, dressed in tight corduroy jeans,a buttoned blouse and bare feet. It seemed like it was very hard to look away from her because she looked different somehow.
?Ah, that?s it, you don?t have your glasses,? I joked as I moved toward her. ?You should take them off more often.? At that moment, that line felt like the dumbest thing I had ever said, to anyone. Mary turned her head towards me and tossed her dark, pixie cut hair slightly. Her dark brown eyes flashed. At least I think that?s what the lightening bolt was that hit me. Maybe it was the fresh from the shower scent and her not quite dry hair in the chick pink room light from the little bedside lamp. It might have been less mysterious, maybe it was that one of the most beautifully shaped asses I?d ever been this close to had shifted on the ladder, and my moustache was tongue distance from a subtly curved pubic mound.
Don?t let anybody tell you it?s not so: Guy?s get x-ray vision sometimes. Like, for instance, then. In front of me, in that soft pink light, I saw full pussy lips surrounded by a trimmed dark nest of hair. I saw her clit begin to bulge and rise between those two beautiful lips and I could hear this clitoris say in a coy voice, ?Would you lick me please? I?m kind of dry, or something.?
Mary looked down at me from her perch and smiled. I froze in my tracks because there?s no point in trying to hide a hard on like the one that was shredding my tighty whitey?s. Sometimes you just have to stand proud and hope it all works out.
What she said was, ?So, what?s up for you this evening?? I didn?t get the pun. I was stunned into erection and not really sure this wasn?t a vision brought on by a bad ham sandwich. The paramedic?s would probably say later, when they found me,? Yeah, Doc, the mayonnaise killed him but gave him a hell of a hard on. And we couldn?t make the corpse stop smiling.?
I think I answered he finallyr. I must have. In fact, I?m sure I did, and I held up the keys to my beat up car. I know that because someone on a planet a long way off said, ?I?m going to a stock car race. It should be fun, want to go? ? I could hear a voice saying that, and it was a familiar voice, but what I knew about was Mary stepping down the ladder, sliding her body over my outstretched arm, and turning into me so that her nipples dug fiery grooves down the inside of my arm.
I was stoic. I didn?t shiver. I just tried not to scream,?Do that again. And again. And again.? And in the meantime, I drifted on her scent. Her warm fresh shower scent that had taken on a different, deeper smell and meaning.
Mary, the ladder she had been standing on, and I slow waltzed to her door and cut off the light above her bed. Two of those three of us went to the small town flat track race in Mary?s car. It was safer than mine. And besides, there?s something really, really, sweet about older T-Birds. An older T-Bird on moonlit two lane roads between small towns, with Mary curled up in the passenger seat, making conversation in a sultry feminine voice is Hall of Fame stuff.
The race ended. Then Heaven swallowed me. Or Buddah smiled. Or I lost my True Virginity, or whatever you call it. Mary said,? I really had fun tonight.? and as she said that she unbuttoned the front of my shirt with the same fluid grace a talented athlete has in their motion. Her lips followed her fingers, trailing down my chest and at that moment I became enlightened. There?s no other way of putting it. I knew why I had nipples. They were there for Mary to set on fire with her teeth, her tongue, and her smiling voice that asked me, ? Do you like that??
I loved it. And I got it. I understood why men for centuries have compared women to great, sensuous cats. Cats that curl up in the front seat of T-Birds and burn holes in your chest with their breath. Cats who torture nipples that serve no other purpose than to burn your soul with lightening flashes from bites that stop your breath. I braced behind the wheel in her car and Mary whispered, ?Pull over.?
By the time I pulled off the road, Mary had loosened what was left of my clothes. She whispered to me,and behind her whisper came the soft warmth of her lips on my penis. I had a sense of coolness and warmth, of sugar and suede leather engulfing the height of my manhood. And the lightening that had followed her lips down my chest, past my nipples, past my belt began to follow this rush in some distant echo of an explosion, somewhere.
This was different. It wasn?t a fuck. It wasn?t a blowjob. Maybe it was a salvation, or I died there and don?t know it yet. Her teeth, her tongue, her touch held me pinned without pressure to the seat of Detroit?s best pussy wagon. They were the only things in existence. Mary, the T-Bird, and I soared past the cars that yelled and honked at us as they passed our parked car.
There was no embarrassment. We had become the center of that room that?s filled by a woman?s sex heat. We were the Universe. Mary made a purring sound and in that same fluid motion tht had captivated me before, cupped my dick in her hands and pressed me to her cheek. ?We need to finish this at home,? were her words and somehow, sometime later we stood in her room again.
As neatly arranged as her room was, her bed was a mattress on the floor. When my clothes finally were gone, and I sprawled on the bed. Mary stood beside her bed in a lace bra and panties, looking at me silently for a moment. Again she moved in that effortless cat like ripple, and the bra and panties fell beside her. ?There?s something I want you to do for me,? she whispered, as if her lips were pressed against my ear.
I heard her. In the roar of the room, the centrifuge the bed had become, I heard that whisper and pressed my lips to her pussy. My tongue swirled and teased her clit and her body twitched and coiled around me . I could not get enough of her taste. Her wetness could not stop my thirst. I could not get enough of the feel of her skin pressed to me.
And then, somehow, I was on top of her. I was between her legs and my dick pressed into her, opening her to me. She never took her eyes from mine. Her eyes were the Truth. They burned my soul.
As I pushed into her, Mary caught my lower lip between her teeth. She ground her teeth from side to side with just enough pressure to cut me, make me bleed. She sucked hard on my broken lip, and hissed, ?Fuck me. Fuck me hard.?
The velvet sheath she wrapped around my dick became the thing that I was on this earth for, and she screamed her pleasure as we fucked. Her eyes still burned into my flesh, my soul, and would not let me go.
She buckled, and then she stiffened. Her legs clasped around me and drew me deeper inside her but it wasn?t enough. I didn?t want to cum. I wouldn?t. I could not stop. I wanted to be inside all of her, everywhere. I wanted us to stay in this whirling, screaming world we fell into and spend forever as she came. And her dark, dark eyes still bored into me.
I held her when my cum started. I held her as if I were pressing my being into her. I wanted her to take back the fire that she had left as her lips traced their way along my chest. I needed my skin to be her skin. I could taste the blood she had taken from me as I pushed my tongue into her mouth. Her eyes widened, and they seemed to dance somehow, and I surrendered to my seed.
I couldn?t stop cuming. Wave after wave carried me into searing peaks of nerve release. Mary held my face in her hands, and brought her own face close to mine. I was dying. I died. I came back to life.
Each warm breath she exhaled seemed to bring life to me. Now, I was at sea. A storm threatened to drown me in sensation. In the next breath I was safe above her on her mattress on the floor. She had carried me far away and brought me home again and I collapsed in awe of what we?d done.
We had sex the rest of the weekend, until my girlfriend returned. But it was just sex. We fucked our brains out and laughed and rested until we could fuck again. I guess this is all ancient history, now. I haven?t seen Mary since. Maybe she?ll read this and get a giggle from it, or masturbate and cum like she did then.
I hope so. God, I hope so.