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ATTENTION: If you are wanting to sate yourself in reading about liquids pouring from every orifice after high pressure injections or even finger stimulation, this little interplay about people interested in extending relationships beyond just raw sex may not be for you; okay?
The normally almost good looking face of Reggie Barber was etched with the signs of too many beers consumed the previous evening. Home on a month’s holiday he lay slumped on a lounge chair and stretched to a bored yawn, disappointed he’d failed to pull Betsy Miller at the party. That was scarcely surprising: the ‘toms’ were gathered around her almost shoulder to shoulder and she probably didn’t even spot him. Boy was she hot!
The phone went. Reggie thought about not answering it but had the ridiculous thought it could be Betsy calling.
Oh yeah! He sauntered to the kitchen phone, shirt tail hanging out which indicated his mom, dedicated to making him replicate an ‘upstanding gentleman’, was not home.
“Hi, it’s Sharon Miller.”
“Sorry, mom’s out until noon.” He dropped the phone into the cradle and went fridge prospecting, scowling as the phone pierced the peace again.
“Don’t cut the call, Reggie. It’s you I want. Your mom told me you were coming home this week. I need to talk – may I buy you lunch?”
That would be great, Mrs Miller.”
Reggie licked his lips. Sharon giving him a come-on? She didn’t rate too far behind her daughter but was entering the wrinkly age of course. She’d turn forty soon.
“Uh-uh – Sharon.”
“You say my name so beautifully.”
“Want do you really want, Mrs—um—Sharon?”
“Mind if I keep that until over lunch; Jill’s coffee shop?”
“I’d prefer a counter lunch at the Lexicon Bar.”
“Those bar stools are uncomfortable.”
Reggie grinned. She wore short skirts and knew she’d be showing upper leg.
“Well, some other time perhaps.”
“No – Reggie, wait. You can have anything you want; I’m desperate.”
“What, is Mr Miller off his oats?”
“Pardon me? Oh, Reggie – how embarrassing. You misunderstood me. My problem is the problem I want to discuss; it is my problem, but only indirectly.”
“This sounds like girls’ stuff; don’t you think you should talk to mom?”
“No Reggie. God, are you hung-over? You are making heavy going of this.”
Reggie thought the cheeky bitch; she needed a wind up. “Talk clearly and I’d understand you.”
“Get your ass over to the Lexicon Bar at noon; you can read the time?”
“Yeah.” He added under his breath, “Don’t wear panties.”
“I heard that Reggie Barber!” Sharon said, disconnecting the call.
Reggie grinned, hitching up his baggy shorts. She didn’t appear to be mad at him, at least he didn’t think so.
He showered, put on BO-Killer and clean underpants in case Sharon decided to take him to bed. She’d be aware that with him being only twenty-two they wouldn’t share many other mutual interests.
Reggie sauntered into the bar in freshly laundered baggies and tight-fitting polo shirt, his big feet encased in sandals. She was already seated.
“Hi,” he beamed.
“Hello ataşehir escort Reggie,” she said, a little less than enthusiastically. She offered him a cheek plastered in make-up. He licked it.
“What on earth,” she yelped.
“Just trying to inject a bit of fun into our relationship that never has been good.”
“Sit and behave!”
He automatically adhered to the command, adjusted his shorts to attract her attention but found she was looking away, ordering him a beer. He looked between her legs and noticed bright red garter clips.
Then she caught the direction of his stare and snapped those lovely thighs together.
“Reggie, let me make myself perfectly clear; this is not about me, especially not even remotely about me and you, but it is in a way. I suppose it’s me caught in an awkward juxtaposition. It’s a very sensitive issue demanding the closest cooperation…”
His attention wandered. His mom was the only person he knew capable of deciphering the secret language of women who go on like this. Sharon was becoming worked up and her tits were heaving – not too bad in contour for a mother but at her age they probably were wrinkled like a plowed field.
“Reggie, have you caught a word I was saying?”
Her legs opened in appreciation. Actually she was shifting her cheeks to a more comfortable position. She caught where he was looking and the thighs opened wider. Reggie’s heart belted against his ribs.
“See, you’re wasting your time,” she hissed, as he caught the flash of white briefs – actually the material shape looked suspiciously like a thong.
“I’m listening,” he yawned, looking around to check out other women. Before he knew it she’d jumped off her stool, pulled it closer and now had her knees against his, a hand resting gently on his thigh. His attention was now riveted on her. She was close enough for him to almost catch her natural odor. He sniffed – not making any noise – and she looked in horror, realizing what he was doing: her dominant color was now rich pink.
“Reggie, I want you to try to become Betsy’s steady date – just for a couple of weeks; these creeps are hanging around like tom cats. You took her virginity, remember.”
“Yeah, I remember. You went crazy and tried to kick my nuts into next week, missing fortunately but I think the toe indentation from those pointy shoes is still visible at the top of my left thigh. Want to see it?”
“It would be improper for me to say yes, Reggie. Please do not regard me as one of your bimbos.”
“Not all accommodating nubile lovelies are bimbos.”
“Nubile is an impressive word for you, Reggie.”
“I guess that’s my cue to leave.”
“One thousand dollars.”
Reggie eased back on to his stool, hoping ear wax had not caused him to mishear.
“Please repeat that?”
“A grand, Reggie. Just woo her away from these louts for fourteen days and fourteen nights. By then they will have decamped for some other bimbo.”
“You call your daughter a bimbo?”
“When she’s like this, yes. The only other suitable words would choke me.”
Sharon now had kadıköy escort bayan a knee pressing his; he opened and she forced her way in a good six inches. The thought of that really appealed but so did the grand. He needed eight hundred bucks to add to his spare cash and he’d have enough to buy that sound system he coveted.
“But why me, Sharon?”
“Because she actually respects you, God only knows why. You are the only guy she ever talks about to me, not that she talks much to me. She’s as bad as her father.”
“Are you sure there’s not something else I can help you with?” Reggie’s eyes bored into hers.
Sharon shunted her knee another six inches forward and then whispered, “You are positively evil, Reggie Barber.”
“My father has sampled you occasionally; why can’t I?”
Horror reappeared on her face. Reggie reached across and patted her left boob that yielded, just the right amount of softness. Perhaps they were not furrowed in wrinkles?
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know I know; Betsy confided to me once in return for allowing her to put a tape around and along my dick to confirm her suspicion that I was about as good as it gets – at least in her experience to that point.”
He reached out to support Sharon, grabbing her right boob this time. She recovered her balance and shot him a grateful look, appearing not to notice his hand had not been withdrawn.
“W-when?” she muffled, fighting tears.
“Roughly a year ago; I’ll never tell anyone.”
“That long ago? She must have been spying on us.”
“She borrowed a TV security monitoring system and kept the recording going until she snaffled you two a couple of times. She wiped the discs, saying she just wanted to confirm her suspicions because at time you’d become obviously sexy.”
“Oh God, that daughter of mine is evil.”
“I don’t think so – it’s more like a hormonal splurge. I’m prepared to do what you want if you accept two conditions.”
“All right, done.”
“That’s irresponsible accepting without knowing what those conditions are.”
“I’ll always found you to be reasonable, Reggie. Just do it please; what must I do?”
“You must cooperate to the max to help me nail Betsy.”
Reggie grinned evilly. “If I fail to nail Betsy you’ll let me have a piece of you, with full cooperation and no turned down bottom lip: that way I don’t miss out.”
“Which lips are you talking about?”
“That’s the spirit Sharon.”
The following evening Betsy called Reggie and invited him over for a meal. “Mom says it’s a long time since we’ve had you over. She’s cooking something special. Sorry, you’ll have to talk to two females as dad’s away for several days.”
Betsy met Reggie at the door and gave him a sweet kiss, not attempting to grab him which was disappointing, He’d been ready to compliment her on her larger breasts – she’d used to worry about theif inability to grow quickly like other girls’ boobs – and to sneak in a couple of feels lower down. Her correctness was disconcerting
Betsy poured them drinks, the phone went and Betsy handed it to her mother.
There appeared to be a problem.
“Carla escort maltepe Smith wants me to go over to make up the four in Bridge – Susie has to go to the airport to pick up her mother who’s arriving a day earlier than expected. I’m sorry.”
“Without a chaperone we two will get up to something naughty,” Betsy laughed, and Sharon muttered something that sounded very much like “I wish”.
Betsy took instruction on how to complete dinner and went to the kitchen.
“You’re too reserved,” Sharon whispered, giving Reggie a peck on the cheek. “Build up enthusiasm and try to touch her accidentally between the legs.”
“Uh, yes,” Mrs Miller.
“Oh Christ,” Sharon snapped and disappeared through the door, slamming it.
Reggie went into the kitchen, confused. Why couldn’t females be consistent like guys?
He went up behind Betsy who was at the bench making a sauce. He lifted up her blonde pony tail and said, “Remember when I used to do this?” and kissed her bared neck.
“That was lovely, truly lovely,” she said, without any sign of arousal. “Then you used to put your arms under mine and play with my little titties.”
Almost yawning, Reggie put his arms under hers and was surprised at the mass and firmness he found.
“Gosh, Betsy – what great tits; you’ve grown into a woman.”
She reacted as if she’d been shot; she slammed her pelvis against the under-bench cupboards, groaned and shuddered.
She’s having an orgasm, Reggie thought, blue eyes opening wide.
Betsy groaned, turned and began French kissing him. He reached down to ‘accidentally’ touch between her legs. She pulled him to the floor and began pulling at his clothes mewing like a cat, saying, “It’s been too long, far too long.”
Encouraged, he pulled her shirt apart, buttons flying through the air and he gloated – she was wearing a front opening bra. He didn’t fumble and two solid beautiful shaped boobs virtually leaped towards his mouth. He sank on to them hungrily while she appeared bent on tearing his hair out by the roots.
Twenty minutes later they lay, side by side on the floor, near exhausted. The dinner in the oven was a blackened mess and vegetables in pots boiled into a glutinous soup, ruined. The dessert from the fridge, however, was sensational as was the half bottle of dessert wine.
As Reggie sunk into an accommodating pussy again Betsy asked how long would he be staying in the city?
“Almost four weeks. We can do this every night, even in the day, if you wish.”
“Oh I wish,” simpered Betsy. “Such a long term relationship with you answers my dream.”
Two days later Sharon called and gave Reggie one thousand bucks, cash.
“You wonderful, wonderful young man,” she gushed, “Betsy is walking around in romantic bliss, saying your name over and over again. Tell me, when is your mom due back home?”
“Not for a couple of hours, why?”
“Well,” Sharon said, pulling down his zip and swinging her right leg over him and pulling up her dress in the one continuous movement. “You are plugging my daughter so you’re not missing out which cancels that condition that you’d be free to nail me if you failed to make it with Betsy. But the fact you are plowing my daughter means I’m missing out, which to me seems a little unfair. So, Reggie, please sit back and enjoy,” Sharon said, facing Reggie and releasing her succulently smooth boobs straight at his salivating mouth.
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