spittingcobra
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2010
- Messages
- 61
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I almost decided not to go to my 10 year high school reunion. Instead, I was going to cruise my usual night spots, strike out with bar maids, smoke a joint by myself, go home, and go to bed. Here I was, nearly 30, and I'd never had a serious girlfriend. I still lived with my parents and sold termite control programs to homeowners--a boring existence. Perhaps it was the desire to upset the dull routine that led to the ballroom of the Hotel Marriott where the reunion was being held.
I didn't need the signs with arrows pointing to the room. I just drifted toward the 1980's pop music beating from that direction. I entered the room, the smell of beer and liquor a familiar gas. Dim lighting didn't aid my recognition of anybody there. I estimated a crowd of less than 50. An unfamiliar blonde in a red dress danced with a prematurely balding man on a strobe-lit pulsing floor. I moved straight to the bar and ordered a beer and it wasn't long before I saw an acquaintance. Marty introduced me to his wife--a woman who looked 20 years older than he did. We talked of our careers which rivaled in their disappointing dead end prospects. I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Remember me?" Marsha asked.
"Yes, Marsha, it's good to see you."
I vaguely remembered her as a girl I suspected had a crush on me, but I never got around to exploring her as a romantic possiblity. She was short and chubby but she had a pretty face, big boobs, and substantial ass that jiggled when she walked. She wore a black dress that barely covered her knees. I became aroused right away--I had a feeling I had a chance for a change of luck. We talked for awhile. She told me she was recently divorced and lived in a house all by herself. She mentioned how lonely she was, one of many strong hints. Still, I refused to make a move, but she whispered in my ear.
"Want to come over to my house?"
I knew I was finally going to get laid. I agreed. We left and I followed her car to a crowded neighborhood where the houses were close together. The yards were small though each had several tall trees, and lots of people left their cars parked in the winding streets. Driving on this road in the dark was like traversing an annoying obstacle course, but that didn't deter my erection--I could hardly wait. Finally, she parked in the driveway of an old fixer-upper with a porch that had a torn screen. The front porch light was lit. I followed her into the house, and a big yellow cat greeted Marsha at the door. Marsha introduced me to Fluffy and poured her a saucer of milk. Marsha then showed me her house. We went down the hallway. She manuevered me so that I stood in the doorway of her bedroom.
"And this is the bedroom," she said, and she embraced and kissed me.
"I always had such a crush on you," she confessed.
She reached behind me and turned on the light. We made out passionately and soon we were laying on the bed, undressing and fondling each other. Her naked body looked better than I expected. Her breasts were even larger than I had anticipated, and I carressed them. She took my hand and showed me how to finger her genital area, using KY jelly.
She sat up and reached for the nightstand drawer.
"My ex-husband left some condoms here. I think I'm ready."
She pulled a packet out.
"Oh look. I forgot about these," she said, and she lifted a pair of furry handcuffs up for me to see.
"Would you like to be tied down?" she asked in a teasing voice.
The thought made me so excited I dismissed the rational side of my brain that flashed caution. Instead, I succombed to the depravity.
"Uh huh," I mumbled.
"You do? This is going to be so much fun."
Before I knew it, my wrists were fastened to the bed posts, and I was helpless to a familiar woman who I didn't really know well. I got nervous, even as she kissed me warmly.
"Do you remember English class when you used to sit behind me?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Do you remember the time you touched my butt with your knee?"
"It was an accident," I said which was true. But I did recall the incident causing an erection then.
"So you do remember our moment. My butt is ticklish. When you touched my butt with your knee I almost laughed out loud in class. That would've been embarrassing. You were a bad boy. What should I do to such a bad boy?"
I didn't answer. I tried to get free, fearing what she would do to me. She ignored my futile attempts to escape.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said, a silly tone in her voice.
She began tickling my ribs and chest. I tried not to laugh. I barely knew her and wanted her to think I was a strong, tough man.
"Coochie, coochie, coo, I'm going to tickle you."
"No wait. Marsha, Marsha, cut that out, ah, ha, ha, ha."
I burst out laughing. I squirmed and struggled, my face reddened. I felt ashamed that this silly woman was controlling me, forcing me to react emotionally.
"Now my butt is going to get revenge against the bad boy who tickled it."
She rubbed baby oil on her big sexy buttocks and she shook it in front of my face before she sat on my penis. I humped her backside, sliding my cock on the soft flesh. The back and forth movement, I could see, took place in an area less than an inch in length, but it felt like miles of intense pleasure. It felt so good, I let out a giggle, even though she'd ceased tickling me. The urge to orgasm came quick. I stopped humping, but she continued to rub her buttocks against it.
"Stop. I can't take it. I'm going to cum if you don't stop."
She shoved my cock inside and I squirted too soon. She freed me. She snuggled close, her big breasts pressing against my side.
(To be continued at a later date, under the title--"The Premature Ejaculator.")
I didn't need the signs with arrows pointing to the room. I just drifted toward the 1980's pop music beating from that direction. I entered the room, the smell of beer and liquor a familiar gas. Dim lighting didn't aid my recognition of anybody there. I estimated a crowd of less than 50. An unfamiliar blonde in a red dress danced with a prematurely balding man on a strobe-lit pulsing floor. I moved straight to the bar and ordered a beer and it wasn't long before I saw an acquaintance. Marty introduced me to his wife--a woman who looked 20 years older than he did. We talked of our careers which rivaled in their disappointing dead end prospects. I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Remember me?" Marsha asked.
"Yes, Marsha, it's good to see you."
I vaguely remembered her as a girl I suspected had a crush on me, but I never got around to exploring her as a romantic possiblity. She was short and chubby but she had a pretty face, big boobs, and substantial ass that jiggled when she walked. She wore a black dress that barely covered her knees. I became aroused right away--I had a feeling I had a chance for a change of luck. We talked for awhile. She told me she was recently divorced and lived in a house all by herself. She mentioned how lonely she was, one of many strong hints. Still, I refused to make a move, but she whispered in my ear.
"Want to come over to my house?"
I knew I was finally going to get laid. I agreed. We left and I followed her car to a crowded neighborhood where the houses were close together. The yards were small though each had several tall trees, and lots of people left their cars parked in the winding streets. Driving on this road in the dark was like traversing an annoying obstacle course, but that didn't deter my erection--I could hardly wait. Finally, she parked in the driveway of an old fixer-upper with a porch that had a torn screen. The front porch light was lit. I followed her into the house, and a big yellow cat greeted Marsha at the door. Marsha introduced me to Fluffy and poured her a saucer of milk. Marsha then showed me her house. We went down the hallway. She manuevered me so that I stood in the doorway of her bedroom.
"And this is the bedroom," she said, and she embraced and kissed me.
"I always had such a crush on you," she confessed.
She reached behind me and turned on the light. We made out passionately and soon we were laying on the bed, undressing and fondling each other. Her naked body looked better than I expected. Her breasts were even larger than I had anticipated, and I carressed them. She took my hand and showed me how to finger her genital area, using KY jelly.
She sat up and reached for the nightstand drawer.
"My ex-husband left some condoms here. I think I'm ready."
She pulled a packet out.
"Oh look. I forgot about these," she said, and she lifted a pair of furry handcuffs up for me to see.
"Would you like to be tied down?" she asked in a teasing voice.
The thought made me so excited I dismissed the rational side of my brain that flashed caution. Instead, I succombed to the depravity.
"Uh huh," I mumbled.
"You do? This is going to be so much fun."
Before I knew it, my wrists were fastened to the bed posts, and I was helpless to a familiar woman who I didn't really know well. I got nervous, even as she kissed me warmly.
"Do you remember English class when you used to sit behind me?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Do you remember the time you touched my butt with your knee?"
"It was an accident," I said which was true. But I did recall the incident causing an erection then.
"So you do remember our moment. My butt is ticklish. When you touched my butt with your knee I almost laughed out loud in class. That would've been embarrassing. You were a bad boy. What should I do to such a bad boy?"
I didn't answer. I tried to get free, fearing what she would do to me. She ignored my futile attempts to escape.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said, a silly tone in her voice.
She began tickling my ribs and chest. I tried not to laugh. I barely knew her and wanted her to think I was a strong, tough man.
"Coochie, coochie, coo, I'm going to tickle you."
"No wait. Marsha, Marsha, cut that out, ah, ha, ha, ha."
I burst out laughing. I squirmed and struggled, my face reddened. I felt ashamed that this silly woman was controlling me, forcing me to react emotionally.
"Now my butt is going to get revenge against the bad boy who tickled it."
She rubbed baby oil on her big sexy buttocks and she shook it in front of my face before she sat on my penis. I humped her backside, sliding my cock on the soft flesh. The back and forth movement, I could see, took place in an area less than an inch in length, but it felt like miles of intense pleasure. It felt so good, I let out a giggle, even though she'd ceased tickling me. The urge to orgasm came quick. I stopped humping, but she continued to rub her buttocks against it.
"Stop. I can't take it. I'm going to cum if you don't stop."
She shoved my cock inside and I squirted too soon. She freed me. She snuggled close, her big breasts pressing against my side.
(To be continued at a later date, under the title--"The Premature Ejaculator.")
