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Pitch Black

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Frenchkiss Mom

The brief glimpse I got into the bedroom I was walking into allowed me to get the lay of the land so to speak, because it wasn’t my bedroom I was walking into. It was Paul’s. Who was Paul? A reader who I began chatting with and found interesting.

He must have been really interesting in order for me to come visit him like this because this wasn’t like me, arranging this clandestine meeting in order to give me an excuse to kick up my heels a little. Whether this evening would bring about a complete change in me from a prim and proper professional to a woman who could act like the fantasy person she had created in print was doubtful, but anything was better than sulking at home and feeling sorry for myself.

After I closed the door the room became completely dark once again, save the digital clock beside the bed which told me it was 9:32. It was so dark that I had to take baby steps to inch closer to the bed, and as I made my way I wished I had gotten a longer look inside the room than that brief peek I got when the light from the hall lit it up a bit.

Could he hear me breathing? The way I was panting I wouldn’t have been surprised, and my heart was pounding so hard my chest was shaking. I was excited and scared, mostly because there was always the chance that the man in the bed would turn on the light. I wasn’t ready for that and I had made it clear that darkness had to be part of the deal, at least for now.

I was wearing a trench coat that I let slide off of my shoulders and down onto the carpet, and then I was naked. As naked as I had been when I came into the world about 60 years ago, and this wasn’t easy for me even in the dark. I had considerable problems with my self-image regarding my body, this despite having been told by my doctor just a week ago that I was much too hard on myself.

“Marie, you’re in better shape that most women ten years younger than you,” she had told me. “You haven’t got an ounce of fat on you. You should try and eat more but outside of that you’re fine. You’re still quite attractive, you know.”

No, I didn’t know. If I was attractive I sure didn’t feel it. I felt tired and unwanted. My future ex-husband didn’t want me, or at least not just me alone, and had found pleasure in the arms of another woman. A woman half my age whose store bought breasts made me feel even more inadequate than usual.

In the dark now, I felt more confident. The man laying on the bed wouldn’t be able to see me, at least not this time. The darkness would also give me the liberty to do things that I would never be able to do with a virtual stranger. Things that I had only done with my husband.

I was at the foot of the bed, and as my eyes started to adjust somewhat to the light I could make out the image of the man who was on his stomach with a sheet over the lower half of his body.

His body. He had said he was a big man and the pictures he had sent me certainly bore that out, but who knows what pictures I was getting? There was no way of knowing who was in those pictures. Was it Paul?

Many times I was asked – even hounded for pictures of myself from readers, but I didn’t want to have anybody see me as I am. The fear that I might be sharing my secret hobby with someone who actually knew me frightened me. You write at Literotica? You send pictures to strangers? That would crush me. Would I be embarrassed? Absolutely.

I suppose it would have been easy enough to find some picture of an anonymous woman to satisfy their interest. Someone younger, prettier and with a better body. That certainly wouldn’t be so hard to find but I resisted. I loved my anonymity and knew that my reader’s mental image would be better than the real thing and maybe better than any picture I could dig up.

Paul wanted to see what I looked like, and there was the slimmest of chances that some day he would but not tonight. Tonight was my night to try and let go of my past. Tomorrow was another day, I asserted to myself as I tossed the bottle of coconut oil I had brought to the left side of the man resting in the middle of the king-size bed.

As I looked at the hulking figure who was breathing much more quietly than I was, my hands had gone to my breasts and I had been kneading the soft flesh without really realizing it. I had done that a lot lately, finding my hands between my legs and massaging my breasts without really knowing I was playing with myself.

My hand left my tit and reached down and groped for the sheet, and when I found it I felt the cotton. The sheet was incredibly soft to the touch, probably Egyptian cotton and maybe 1000 thread count, and I let my fingers rub the fabric a minute while giving the man credit for knowing quality bedding before I slowly pulled the sheet down towards the foot of the bed.

Was that Paul taking a deep intake of breath as he felt the sheet come down off of his buttocks and down his thighs and calves? My hand grazed his ankle as I moved the sheet off the end of the bed, and the slight contact made me jump.

He’s samsun escort a man, I kept telling myself. You’ve touched men before, I recalled, although for the vast majority of my adult life the touching had been reserved for my husband. Him and only him until he decided I either wasn’t good enough or simply tired of me.

Just flesh and blood, I told myself as my hand lingered on Paul’s right ankle, although the flesh was much darker than mine. In the dark though, we were just a man and a woman, and that was what I kept reminding myself as my other hand went to Paul’s left ankle.

His skin was soft, surprisingly soft for a man who was my age, so as I let my hands slide up his calves I took a deep breath in an effort to stop what was getting close to me hyperventilating. Only a little coarse hair broke the smoothness as my hand went up the backs what felt like very muscular calves.

I lifted my foot a couple of times, placing it back down right away like a horse trying to communicate. I had gone through what I was going to do countless times, even practicing this on my barren bed, but now I was having trouble getting on this stranger’s.

There. My right knee finally got up onto the sheets and after that my left knee followed and I found myself straddling Paul’s ankles while holding onto the backs of his thighs. Thighs? They felt more like tree trunks and this was another reminder of how very big this man was.

A gentle giant, he had called himself and as my knees inched me forward and my hands glided up the furry backs of Paul’s thighs I wondered if it was possible that I was leaving a trail of moisture as I moved upward because I was wet. Is it possible I was dripping?

Now my hands were on Paul’s back and my legs had to spread wide to be able to straddle the giant’s hips. I groped in the dark for the bottle of oil and after finding it fumbled with the top before finally getting it open and squirting way too much in my palm.

I heard Paul react to feeling the excess oil dribble onto his buttocks, and as I rubbed my hands together the realization hit me. I was about to give an amateur massage to a virtual stranger, and I’m naked. He has to feel my pussy hair against his backside and I’m probably leaking all over him too.

Nice. The feel of his broad back under my oiled palms made my heart skip a beat, and as I worked my little hands over this massive back I heard Paul clear his throat.

“Marie?” Paul said, and it was the first time I had ever heard his voice.

He had commented that he had been often told he had a sexy voice and having just heard it I had to agree. A combination of Barry White and Marvin Gaye and Lou Rawls that made the simple recitation of my name sound more like “I want you so bad.”

“Yes Paul,” I replied, sounding way more like Marge Simpson than I wanted.

“Just checking,” Paul purred, and I almost laughed because I supposed he had no way of knowing who was climbing over him and giving him a massage, since I had a feeling this cuddly bear didn’t lack for company.

I returned my attention to Paul’s back – it wasn’t all muscle but there was plenty of it under the soft flesh – and as my crotch slid over his buttocks the sensation of my cunt rubbing over his ass made my teeth chatter.

My shaking fingers worked up into his shoulders, kneading them as best I could although my weak grip and little fingers couldn’t make my inroads into the muscle.

What if the situation was reversed and I was beneath this mountain of a man, looking up at Paul as he mounted me, his massive body blocking my vision? Only three men had assumed that position with me in my entire life and while I had enjoyed them all, none were like Paul in any way, shape or form.

Not tonight though, I kept telling myself. Tonight I’m on top and after getting more oil I went back to Paul’s shoulders, relishing the feel of a man again while my mind wandered.

King Kong and Fay Wray. That was what we would look like in the light. Could two people be so very different in every possible way? Gender, color, size – everything was opposite. Can scary be erotic? Can erotic be scary? Was that part of the allure?

I’m humping this man’s back, and how long I had been subconsciously grinding my pussy into Paul’s lower back I don’t know. If he knew he didn’t complain and so I kept going, reaching up to massage his upper arms which were spread over the pillows beside both sides of his head.

Paul’s biceps – not only were they hard but they were probably bigger than my thighs – I couldn’t help but notice as I squeezed them before working my hands along the inside of his arms. My fingers lingered in the thick coarse tufts of hair that filled his armpits, and that gentle underarm massage brought a contented sigh from the recipient.

From there I worked my hands a little bit under his body, leaning down and searching for his nipples as I rubbed his man boobs. My breasts were rubbing against Paul’s back in this position urfa escort and as my nipples slid along Paul’s oiled skin they got even more swollen than they already had been.

My fingers found Paul’s buds and as I squeezed them I heard another muffled chuckle as I worked over those plump nipples. He had mentioned he liked that being done to him, in addition to other things he liked, and as it turned out we had some shared interests.

One of those was about to happen, and as I knee-walked back down towards the foot of the bed I passed one of the objects of my desire. I had ignored Paul’s plump buttocks before but that was intentional because I was saving that for last.

I dug my fingers into the fleshy globes, kneading the somewhat pliant flesh from the outside and working towards the crack of his ass, and after doing that for a minute or two I let the side of my hand moved along the deep crevice.

As if on cue Paul’s knees slid up and his backside raised up higher and higher until his ass was way up in the air, and as he spread his thighs I climbed over his now spreading and moving legs until I was right behind him.

Night vision goggles was what I wished I had as I placed my hands on Paul’s buttocks and squeezed. I bent over and kissed his butt while very nervously letting my hand move down between Paul’s legs in search of his balls. Search is an absurd term to use because there was no missing them.

Paul’s groan was louder than my gasp as my hand wrapped around the hairy orb that felt like a very healthy lemon, and after I rolled that around in my palm I moved over to the only slightly smaller partner.

Those pictures Paul sent me – they were really him, not of some freakishly endowed porn star, at least if this over-sized scrotum was any indication of what I was going to encounter on the other side of these meaty testicles.

Leaning down, I let my tongue slide along the steamy channel of his ass while deciding to call an audible here. I was going to wait or maybe not even venture there but my curiosity got the best of me.

Still licking the very outside of his butt crack I reluctantly let go of his balls and reached around the obstacles, and when my hand found what I was looking for my shaking fingers were matched by the quake that rippled through my body.

My hand moved down the semi-turgid penis, searching for the end which seemed to be frightening close to the bedding, and when I finally had hold of the knob I pulled the pendulous organ up back between his legs to where my mouth was busy licking the area between the base of his balls and his ass, and to my astonishment it reached back to me.

“Aw!!!” I heard Paul moan as my mouth wrapped around the bulbous knob of Paul’s manhood, and it felt even bigger between my lips that it had looked in the pictures.

Not too big though, I realized as I strained to push my mouth down past the ridge of Paul’s glans in this awkward position, and as my mouth went up and down the end of Paul’s mammoth cock a few times I felt it getting away from me.

He was getting hard, and maybe it wasn’t getting much bigger or thicker, but as it stiffened and strained to curl up towards his stomach I couldn’t keep it pulled backwards like this. I finally gave up and let that magnificent piece of manhood spring up and away so I could gobble his balls some.

The one the right I could suck on, and as I nursed on the hairy and sweaty nut I heard Paul’s moan of pleasure. In the dark we were nearly blind but I know I could tell how Paul felt about the things I was doing and I suspect I was making noises of own as well.

Was that me snorting while I sucked and licked his balls? The left one I couldn’t get my mouth around but I licked that egg so hard I might have pulled the hairs off of it.

Move up Marie, I told myself as I let go of his nuts and let my tongue slide up the ridge that started where I had been licking towards what I had wanted. I pulled Paul’s buttocks apart as my lips kissed their way further up.

I don’t know if I was praying exactly but it was something similar as my face went into a warmer climate. I had been educated about this act 40 years earlier and since then only my husband had experienced this from me.

I always pretended I was doing it reluctantly but that wasn’t true. I loved rimming a man. I loved it more when I learned that it made men turn into jelly – made their cocks hard as blue steel. Only one thing would ruin this, I thought as my tongue got closer and closer. Please be clean.

Thank you. I didn’t say it at the time between I was too busy lapping like a wolverine at Paul’s hair-ringed anus. I was too busy trying to pry Paul’s buttocks father apart while jamming my face deep into the clean and musky crack, and then when I finally penetrated that puckered ring with the tip of my tongue I heard a muffled roar as Paul bellowed into the pillow his face was buried in.

That animal-like howl only made me crazier as I strained to get sinop escort more of my tongue to jab into him. I didn’t have enough hands – I was frustrated as I wanted to grab his balls, jack his cock and put my finger – my whole hand in my cunt.

Then magically I felt Paul’s body move as his backside hopped up a little bit, and then I felt his hands over mine, spreading his ass cheeks wider for me so at least I had two hands to work with.

I yanked my little hands from under Paul’s bear-like paws and tried to multi-task; grabbing his balls and squeezing and twisting them. sticking everything except my thumb into my pussy and trying in vain to reach Paul’s cock, all the while taking advantage of the assistance by jabbing my tongue in and out of Paul’s ass like I was fucking it.

I wanted to reach his cock so bad but the way I was positioned all I could do was rub the veiny trunk of his manhood from there, with the rest up him curved up towards his stomach. My eyes burned from the sweat pouring down into them, and my tongue ached from the strain of it trying to reach farther than it physically could.

All the while Paul was snorting like a bull while sounding like he was eating the pillow, all the time encouraging me to go deeper and jerk harder. We weren’t supposed to talk but I was way too crazed to be enforcing rules, and it was then I made another audible. To think I didn’t know what that word meant until my husband made me sit though a football game with him.

In my mind I saw myself as a ballerina as I spun around and scrambled up between Paul’s spread legs, hitting the top of my head on the dangling balls while I squirmed under the massive man, and while that ballerina description probably wasn’t accurate it got me where I wanted to be.

Even in the darkness my eyes had adjusted well enough so I could seen the imposing monolith swaying above me. I managed to get my arms free enough so my hands were able to grab the shaft of Paul’s cock and lifted it to my face while pulling it downward.

We were both snorting like bulls now as my hands milked the absurdly thick shaft while my mouth went up and down as possible on Paul, who was down thrusting his hips like he was fucking my face. My hands gripped tightly around his shaft kept me from gagging as my lips felt the blood surging through his massive organ.

Paul had let go of his ass now and had propped his upper body up, perhaps in an effort to try and look through the darkness to see what the deranged blonde looked like as she yanked on his member while sucking as hard as she could until finally I felt his cock jerk violently as he announced what was happening.

“CUMMING!” Paul screamed, his voice no longer smooth and seductive but primal, sounding a lot like I was acting.

I’ve always prided myself at my ability to effortlessly swallow an ejaculation, but maybe helped by the awkward position I was in when that first blast went down my throat I almost gagged. I recovered fast though and kept swallowing as Paul’s cock became more like a milkshake dispenser while pouring his hot cream into my mouth.

My fist kept milking as Paul kept grunting above me, his sweat hitting me like a spring shower as I kept swallowing what seemed like an endless load. As I felt Paul finally begin to get soft in my hands I let my left hand go off of his cock and brought it down between my legs.

I came les than a minute later, my left hand rubbing my clit while I kept pulling on Paul’s spent cock. My head was now down in the bedding and Paul’s cock was now hanging straight down towards my face as I made like a sword swallower, letting as much of him in my mouth as I could and using my throat muscles and hand to milk him dry.

I made sure not to bite his cock as I came myself, and after my body stopped shaking I let go of his manhood and scrambled down off the foot of the bed, scooping up the trench coat and reaching blindly for the door.

“Marie,” came the once again seductive purr from the bed. “Come back to bed.”

“Can’t.”

“You know you want to,” Paul said. “I told you I can go all night. Let me prove it to you.”

“Can’t. Not tonight.”

“I’ll e-mail you, okay?”

“Yes. I’d like that,” I said and with that I slipped out the door and out into the hall, closing the door behind me before putting my coat back on and hurrying down the hall and out of Paul’s house.

Out under the street light I looked at my hands which were still shaking, and my tongue was so sore it made my head ache. I needed a drink but didn’t want to go into any place like a bar alone so instead I ordered a coffee to go at a Starbucks near my car.

The girl waiting on me gave me a little smile as she rang me up and after I got my change I wondered if she could tell I just had sex, or at least sex of sorts. I used to be able to tell if my roommate at college had just been laid so maybe this waitresses figured it out I had been up to something too.

Safely in the car I took a sip of coffee and just before pulling away I looked in the rear-view mirror at my reflection. My hair wasn’t too bad because I had given it a quick brush before going into the shop, but then I looked lower and saw what had amused the barista in the Starbucks.

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