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It was late in the day when someone knocked on my cubicle. I cringed and hoped it wasn't another work request.
I looked up from my keyboard and slowly turned around. Theresa stuck her head in sideways. She smiled and walked in. She's a short girl-- no, give her credit-- a woman, wide hipped and small boobed, mid 30s.
“What's up? Heading home?” I asked.
“You got a minute, George?” she asked in her cute twangy accent.
She rested her head against a metal filing cabinet and reclined her body. She wore a lime-green light flannel shirt with small flowers, and a pair of cheap jeans. A little drab. She should have tried a little harder.
She looked down at me. “I gotta ask you something.”
She has a pretty face, her long brown hair fell straight down.
“Sure.” I sat back on my chair and pushed off my desk. “What's up?”
“You know I'm new in town. I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need the help. There's pizza in it...”
“Is it a party? I can bring a gift. Who's having the birthday?”
“You're funny.” She laughed. “No, I was wondering if you had some time, maybe a few hours. I need help moving some boxes. I'm moving apartments. You know how these things work. End of the month, you have to get out. I'm almost done. Just need a little help finishing up. Celia's not very helpful.” Celia's her daughter, 8 or 9 years old.
“Sure, I can help. Nothing too heavy, I hope. Where do you live?”
“I can help anytime. I'm not doing anything all weekend. So let me know.” She glanced quickly at some pictures on my desk.
I said, “I'm there when you need me. Anyone else helping?”
“Just you and me. You're the first one I asked.” She turned away, a little embarrassed.
“Anytime.” I said.
She looked at me, “What about today?”
I nodded my head up and down, thinking. “I'll have to make a phone call. But I think it'll be okay.” She walked out of my cubicle. Her ass filled out nice.
I spoke into the phone. “Hi. I'm going to be late.”
We rode the bus to her place in North Seattle.
“It's going to be about an hour,” she said. “Rush hour makes a mess of I-5.”
We sat across the isle from one another. I read, and when I had the chance, took long glances at her. Our eyes met every once in a while. I'd wave and look away.
The bus roared and got off the freeway. It turned right and climbed up a long meandering hill.
“We're next,” said Teresa.
“Let me help you with your backpack,” I said, and walked to the front.
I stepped out of the bus into a bright late afternoon. The streets were lined with cherry blossoms on all sides.
“So, why did you move to Seattle?” I asked. She was from Kentucky.
“I always wanted to live in a big city,” she said. “Small towns don't treat divorced women very well. Everyone knows everyone's business, and they like to talk about it.”
“You get crucified, you do anything someone thinks is against religion.”
I nodded. “So, you're telling me, they ran you out of town?”
“I left” she said. “I left her father. Got a fresh start. Just her and me.”
“Made any friends?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“It’s a full-time job taking care of a daughter by yourself. Friends become less important.”
“I’ll take your word for that,” I said, and changed the topic. “Nice time of year.”
She smiled. The sun shine reflected on her fine brown hair.
Her place was a guest-house in the back of a worn down lot. I greeted her daughter, a cute little blond, and got down to work. Teresa was moving into the back of an apartment house in a nicer part of town.
We did good time loading the station wagon. We made runs back and forth, loading and unloading, stacking boxes in the new place
On one occasion, she lifted a small but heavy box of books over her shoulders. Her pants fell below her hips, and gave me all sort of things to admire, her purple Hanes panties, her smooth stomach and bare hips. She adjusted her pants with a tug, but it wouldn't work. Her pants just kept sliding down over and over again. When she walked away, I took in the rhythmic sway of her behind.
“Hey, it's time to eat,” she said. “There's a few boxes left, but I can handle that myself.”
“George, you should stay here and relax. We’ll be back.”
The sun was still out, but it was getting dark. A few people still walked their dogs. You could hear kids playing in the neighborhood. I lit a cigarette and waited on the cement steps in the back.
I thought about her ass, and how cute she was. Cuter when she was sweaty, breathing hard, not quite so uptight. Shame about the kid. Nice kid, but she interfered with my fantasies. Too bad her dad wasn't there to take her on the week-ends.
After half an hour, Teresa came back with a pizza box and a Pepsi 2-liter.
She got out of the car smiling and giggling with Celia. I heard my name mentioned and then a shush. Damn she was beautiful. Her daughter ran up the cement steps and we all followed.
We sat at a cheap kitchen table under a naked light bulb. Teresa fumbled through a grocery bag. She pulled out disposable paper plates and plastic cups and gave them to her daughter to set. Celia opened the box and we all took turns pulling out slices.
“Eat, guys,” said Teresa.
We ate, exchanged some ‘thank-yous’ and ‘any-times’. When we were half done, she looked at her watch and realized it was getting late.
“Little girl, it's time for you to go to bed. Excuse me. Come on finish up, you're time's up.” They walked into the kid's bedroom.
The ‘mom’ came out minutes later with a bundle of clothes.
“I'll leave any time you want to kick me out.” I kept eating.
“Mind if I do some laundry?” she asked. Work was never done. “Moving's messed up my schedule. You're be surprised how much dirty clothing two women make.”
Her washing machine was in the split level below, past the kitchen. The rest of her apartment was down there.
“I like your new place better,” I complimented her.
“Yeah. It’s going to be better for us here.”
She busied herself with the dryer. “I’m paying more, but it’s a better school-- a better place to raise a kid.”
“Give me a minute.” She went in to check on her kid. On her way out, she stopped by the bathroom. She came out in a black tank top. Her small tits hung lower -- sexy without a bra. Her hair was pulled up.
I grabbed my jacket and stood by the door.
On her way to the other side of the kitchen table, she brushed her ass against me. I felt its firmness, and her warmth. I inhaled the raw musk of her sweat.
“Want the pizza? I know where it's heading.” She puffed her cheeks and poked her thigh with her finger. She wrapped the pizza in aluminum and threw it into a plastic bag. “Here you go.”
I grabbed the bag. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you. I was kind of running out of time. Remind me no to pack so much next time,” she said.
She walked by again.
This time, I didn't move. She still went past me but this time she had to shove herself through. When she did, she looked behind her shoulder. She walked back, stood on the balls of her feet and planted a kiss on my mouth.
She put her hands on my chest. “What's wrong with you? How much do I have to grind on you, before you pay attention?”
“I pay attention. Didn't you notice me blocking your way?”
I bent over and kissed her. I kept my face there. She moved her small mouth over mine. Her eyes were closed and she wrapped her arms around me.
I blurted out, “I’m not going anywhere, am I?”
“I think you may want to run.” She looked at me with eager eyes. “I'm looking for a guy. You that guy?”
She resumed kissing me, pecking at my mouth. I took her by her shoulders and moved my hands down to her wrists. I felt her shiver. She grabbed for my fingers. Her hands were small but not delicate. She moved mine to her back.
“You like that?” She guided me to her ass. “ I see you peeking all the time. Like today on the bus, and when we were moving.” She gripped my hands firmly. I gritted my teeth and snickered.
She whispered into my ear, “Come on, touch it.”
She opened my fingers and had me palm her jeans. She kept looking at me, like she knew she was going to end up getting fucked. She widened her large brown eyes. Her white teeth showed thru her small mouth.
I looked at her daughter’s bedroom door.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s out.”
She pushed me back onto the table. Her kissing was furious. She welcomed my tongue. She sucked it into her mouth, and gave me hers.
My dick pulsed into full life. I stroked her ass.
“Damn,” I blurted out.
She smiled at me. “Too much?”
“No,” I said. You could see it in her eyes she didn't believe it.
“Come over here,” she said.
She led me into the dark living room. There was a small two seater sofa. We made a place next to some of her laundry. She turned me around and sat me back on the sofa. She fell on top of me. She was lighter than I thought, but she still took me down. I smelled the fabric softener in the clothes.
We held each other in the dark. She warmed my face with her breathing, my cock was hard. Her legs reminded me of what she had between them. She lifted herself on her hands, and clicked on a table lamp.
“George, I want to see,” she said. I moved forward and she took off my t-shirt.
She pulled away and grabbed her tank top cross-armed and yanked it over her head. Her hair jumped. Her breasts bounced down. Small, pert, pink, with wide swollen buds, like vanilla wafers. Just like I had imagined.
She sat on my crotch, a proud look in her eyes. A conquest. She thrust her warm body forward. I tilted her hips to get her just right.
“Suck my tits. You like my tits, don't you?”
I slurped one into my mouth. It was the softest, warmest, smoothest I had ever tasted. They were also very salty.
Her ass hovered over my crotch. I yearned for the pressure of her butt back on my cock. I pushed down her shoulders. She rubbed her behind on my cock.She grabbed my head and kissed me. My hairy chest pressed against her smooth skin.
I reached down and played with her jean buttons. She interrupted me.
“Wait,” she said.
She stood up, unbuttoned her pants, and turned away. She pushed her ass out. She inhaled, tugged, struggled, and pulled down her jeans along with her purple cotton pantie. Her butt crack turned into delicious pounds of pink flesh. She paused. I took it in. She smiled.
“You really fit a lot into those pants. That's a good thing, in case you're wondering” I don't forget a lot of women get weird about their bodies.
I smacked her ass. She looked behind her shoulder and smiled approvingly.
The next part was surprising. She turned around. She was hairier than hell. It was wonderful. Red curling hairs, bushy curls that swirled like some Van Gogh painting. I looked in awe. Mouth wide open. She let out a laugh. She spread her legs to give me a fuller view. Her pink meaty pussy lips protruded through the field of curls. Her smile drove me crazy. What a beautiful cunt.
She fell on me fully naked. I massaged, smoothed, mauled, pinched and man-handled her ass. I felt for shape, firmness, and smoothness. I closed my eyes and explored her curves and felt for the shape of her ass. I fingered her hairy bush. I clawed her soft ass. She gave me time.
Her skin goose-dimpled. She lifted herself on her hands and hovered. She breathed open-mouthed on my cheek. A tongue shot into my ear. I squirmed and turned to face her. We kissed and licked each others mouths.
“Come on,” she said. “Can you fuck me?”
Her fingers unbuttoned and pulled my pants down to my knees. I shook them off. I maneuvered my cock to her cunt. The hairs trapped my head. Her pussy pressed down, and I pushed into her, but it was no use. Fields of hair were in the way.
Her hands reached down. She smiled. With a quick motion of her thin fingers, my cock slipped in.
It was hot, wet and tight. I pushed in and out.
“I’m on the sponge, come inside of me,” she whispered.
She held me close, as I thrust into her. Soon, to my surprise, she came and shuddered.
She closed her eyes and put her face into my neck.
“Thank you.” She seemed to cry. “You're good. My god, you're good.” She kissed my chest.
“Let it out,” I told her.
She whispered, “It's been too long. Thank you.”
She sat back up with a cool smile. After a few more minutes, I came inside of her. My cock pumped long and good. She continued to grind even after I was done.
“I love your ass.”
She spun down and sat beside me. She cleaned up with one of her shirts, The sofa sagged. She laughed, and put her arm on my shoulder. She handled my quickly fading cock. Her thumb massaged the dome. We sat there for a long time. We kissed. She rested her head on me and I stroked her hair.
“Let me take you home. You must be tired.”
We got dressed. I enjoyed watching her one last time before going back home. We hugged and kissed a few more times before she turned off the lights.
It was pitch dark and cloudy when Teresa got on the freeway. She turned the stereo on and we listened to Nick Drake. We didn't say much. She lowered the windows in her car. The blast of air kept us awake. She went over the bridge and through the tunnel. There were few cars out, and she did about 70.
I looked at her and she looked at me and we laughed.
“Thanks for tonight,” I yelled. She raised the windows. “Thanks for tonight,” I said again.
“Thanks for helping me move. Thanks for the rest, too.” She smiled and looked straight ahead. She took a sharp turn down the interstate.
I'll see you on Monday?” she asked, not sure of what came next.
“8:00 o'clock,” I said. “Maybe we can have lunch, try this out, again.”
“I'd like that.”
I gave her some directions.
“And down this street,” I said.
We arrived at my house.
“Can I call you?” I asked.
She found a pen and gave me her number on a receipt.
I leaned over and kissed her lips. Her lips quivered. She bit mine gently.
I shut the car door and walked up to my house. Teresa's car started away. I stood under my roof, as her headlights disappeared. I unlocked the door and stepped into the dark house. I went to the bathroom and took a long piss. I wiped myself on a towel and walked to the bedroom.
As soon as I walked in, I heard my wife.
“What took you so long, Georgie?” she asked half asleep. “You were gone a long time. I was beginning to worry you had an accident.”
“It was more work than I thought,” I said. “I wasn't fucking her all night, you know. I actually got some real work done.”
Tammy yawned. “Was she any good?” she asked. “Tell me about it.”
“I'll tell you everything, tomorrow.” I pulled the sheets open. They were cold on my side, so I pushed into my wife's space. “She was nice. Big bush, nice tits.”
“Really?” She asked, and shifted to make room for me.
“How was your guy, Antonio?” I asked.
“Young, Mexican, uncircumcised 7-inches. Good technique. Real good guy. I think I'll be spending more time with him.”
I was genuinely happy. It's not all that easy finding someone you want to screw more than once.
“We have a date for tomorrow.”
“That's fine. I won't wait up.” It made me happy when she found a good dick for herself.
I grabbed her hips and ran my hands up and down her body. I tickled her mercilessly.
“I missed you,” she said.
I dived into her body. I grabbed for her naked pussy and got a good grip. I got one finger in, and stroked her clit. She moaned and closed her legs on my hand.
She was wet, probably from her earlier sex. She liked to carry it around.
“Thanks,” she said. She put her arm above he head and pulled my head to hers. I kissed her ear and neck. “I want to meet her.”
“I'll talk to her.”
I gently pleased her, until we both fell asleep. It was a good day, but I was already looking forward to the next one.