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I met Kathi through an online dating site. We both loved writing. My skills were the creative kind, hers more focused on the craft — good grammar, proper wording, that sort of thing. We were a great match. Her passion for life equaled if not exceeded mine. The early days were like a magical trip into the world of Ali Baba complete with flying carpet and cave that opened via the words “Open Saysme.” The cave in this case was her heart and the lovely cavern between her legs. The word soul mate was ever on our lips as though it was not just the way our bodies connected but our minds, our hearts, our souls.
Naturally the electricity between us was so intense, the love making so exquisite, I don’t really even know if souls were even involved. Yet no arguments ever seemed to come between us. Her words seemed to finish mine and mine hers.
I was recently divorced; her exit from marriage a bit further in the past – at least a year. I had a townhouse, she a quaint two bedroom condo. I lived alone; she had two lovely daughters. One was sixteen; the other nineteen.
Carmen, the sixteen year old, was a boisterous girl, always talking, commenting about everything and possessing the most distressing of qualities – a temper. Yet she had the rare ability to connect with just about anyone, at least for a while, until her temper kicked in and she blew a gasket. I understood her almost immediately, enjoying our conversations, the occasional flirting. Yet I knew the risks of becoming too close.
Once she showed me a tattoo she had just received. “Oh Dan, please you have to see this.”
Quickly unsnapping her jeans, she pulled them halfway down her thigh. With a twist of her hand, her thong underwear was pulled aside so I could see a little butterfly planted on her stomach under her belly button just a bit to the left. Only I didn’t stare that closely at it because something else more delectable was nearby. Her pubic hair lay open to my view and I could almost see a dark spot just below her fingers. The smell of feminine perspiration and the trace of a more delicate scent from that spot between her legs cried for my touch.
Only I couldn’t yield to such temptations. She was far too young, not my type at all, just a teenager that didn’t know that her stupid actions might drive a grown man crazy. I wanted nothing to do with the kind of trouble she would bring. Besides, I was in love with the girl’s mother. Kathi was the genuine article, a good woman, madly in love with me.
Her sister was a different story completely. Not exactly shy, Heather was the intellectual of the family. Rather than writing stories the way I was inclined, she enjoyed poetry. Yet she would never let me or Kathi read them.
“They’re far too personal,” she would say. “I only write for myself, so I can remember a feeling, an idea.”
Both of the girls were blond, fair skinned. Heather was a bit shorter, thinner with smaller breasts. Even at the young age of 16 Carmen’s were large melon shaped objects, hanging down just a bit from the weight. Heather’s in contrast while not being particularly small were not nearly as grand in size. Even when she was braless as was frequently the case, her shapely orbs stood straight against the thin fabric of her shirt.
I met Kathi in the summer and with neither girl familiar with a strange man around, they acted and dressed as though it was still just the three of them. Most clothes were of the halter top category, bare stomachs, thongs showing every time one of them bent over. I was in this continuous state of arousal as new pieces of anatomy were revealed.
Heather tended to wear comfortable casual clothes, the type I remember around the girls I knew as a young teen, the hippy look I would often call it. The pants were always jeans either long tattered ones with holes in the knees and butt. Or the short kind, ends frayed, showing just a bit of the curve from her butt when she bent over or curled against the couch watching TV.
The younger daughter Carmen was the exact opposite. Her clothes were always elegant, expensive, smooth and soft, folding over her curves in a natural yet provocative way. The young girl actually looked older than her sister with a look in her eye of experience. Kathi and I would always laugh about her, “Nineteen going on twenty six.”
Yet Carmen was the religious one of the two. Devoted to God, her actual life belied this deep seated commitment. While passionate in word and emotion, the attraction of the dark life of a sinner beckoned her so strongly that she lived a much wilder and crazier life than her more cerebral atheist sister. Alcohol and sex were her biggest vices at the moment.
Once when Kathi and I returned from a trip to the mountains, police filled the apartment. Apparently Carmen had decided that a party would be the perfect entertainment. Unfortunately one of the girls was raped by one of the boys. We were up half the night trying to resolve the difficulty, helping the police gather evidence.
Heather was a true flower child reminding me of the kartal escort bayan days of my youth when I would bounce around, no home to call my own, each day a new adventure, no worry about the future, no care for money or wealth, just wanting the world to be a better place.
Before I came into her life, Kathi had shared her master bedroom with Heather while Carmen occupied the other smaller one. As I spent more and more time with Kathi, I would often spend the night in her bed. Heather was forced to sleep on the couch.
Sometimes at night, I would wake up and go to the kitchen for a drink of water. I was forced to pass through the living area where Heather would be sleeping soundly on the couch. With the hot nights of summer upon us, she would lay with legs sprawled in her thong underwear, no bra, no covers, practically naked. I paused staring down at her slender form wondering what it would be like to lay with her, to feel her skin against me, to smell the scent of her breath on my cheek.
One night the heat was so intense that she neglected to wear her panties. As I walked by, I noticed her nakedness and stood over her, studying her, my eyes pouring over each feature open before me. Like a flower facing the sun she seemed to recognize my stare and moved toward me, her arms to her side, her breasts open, her legs spread, one falling over the edge of the couch. I kneeled down before her, sliding between her legs, my face close to her abdomen. Her smell rose in waves tickling my nose.
Recalling the stories of how deeply she slept, that an atomic bomb would barely cause her to stir, I wondered if I could indeed touch her. Her smell spoke to me in soft whispers – come to me. So, I pressed my mouth against her, kissing the lips between her legs softly until I felt the wetness seep into my mouth.
She groaned so I slipped my tongue into her, sucking her juices into my mouth. How good she was. I had never tasted anything so fine. It was more than the actual flavor but the simple fact that I was enjoying her, this little goddess. I knew I should stop before she awoke but it was as if I was frozen to the spot, the only movement possible, my tongue and hands. So I slipped my hands under her buttocks and lifted them up, pressing my mouth against her, my tongue now deep inside, my upper lip caressing her clit.
Her groans were loader and my tongue moving faster, flicking back and forth.
Then I heard her say something. The words were unrecognizable to me. I had this sense of her waking, so I slipped from between her legs and fell to the carpet.
On the floor motionless, I waited until her breathing became regular, then carefully, without a sound, crawled past her toward Kathi’s bedroom. All thoughts of a glass of water had vanished. With pounding heart I stood up straight and entered the room. Kathi’s breathing was regular. I slipped under the covers against her.
That night I had the most incredible sexual experience. As I pounded against Kathi, mounting her time and again, my thoughts were of Heather, of being buried deep inside her, feeling her buck and sigh and moan as I brought her to a climax.
I wondered if that would ever be a reality.
Kathi grew exceedingly irritated with Heather’s ownership of the couch. Heather was a messy person, never having learned the meaning of putting anything in its proper location. Tensions began to arise each morning as the disorder around the couch grew and grew.
Finally one afternoon, Kathi erupted. “This will simply not work. The living room is no place for a young woman like you. You are returning to the bedroom.”
“And where am I going to sleep? With you and Dan?” she asked. “I would think you’d want a bit of privacy.”
“That’s fine Kath,” I said. “We’ll work something out. There’s lots of space in the bedroom.”
“I’ve got it,” I said. “We’ll split it up, hang an old curtain across the room. We’ll stay on one side, and Heather on the other.”
“Dad has an old futon I could probably use,” Heather said. “That wouldn’t take up much space at all.”
So Heather did indeed move into our bedroom. Since Kathi did not have a large enough curtain or bed spread, she was forced to use a sheet of muslum that while not transparent was close to it. I helped set up our makeshift separator.
That first night we hadn’t retrieved the futon yet, so Heather was forced to sleep with the two of us.
“I can go home to the townhouse to sleep until we get everything set up,” I said.
“Not on your life,” Kathi said. “Heather is the one that was messy so she needs to endure this.”
We never actually discussed which side of the bed she would sleep. I never thought much about it. Kathi and I turned in early like we usually did and were soon fast asleep.
Sometime during the night, I felt myself pushed toward the center of the bed. On waking up, I found myself face to face with Heather.
“I have no room,” she whispered.
So I slid over pushing Kathi with my escort maltepe back. Heather moved further onto the bed, placing her arms around me, her nose next to mine, her lips inches away. I could feel a thin piece of cloth between her chest and mine. Her leg had already slid over my longer ones. My penis hardened as it touched a bare leg.
I reached around her sliding my hands down her cloth night shirt to her bare buttocks. Pulling her forward our lips touched. I thought she would pull back, but she didn’t.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“My pleasure,” I said. “And believe me, it is indeed a pleasure.”
“For me too,” she said opening her lips to kiss me.
Our kiss was just two soft lips meeting and pressing together, nothing more, no movement, just the touching. My penis twitched so I pulled her closer.
Then we pulled our heads back as though nothing had happened, both of us ignoring the nakedness of our lower bodies. And she fell asleep.
During the night I woke up, the hardness between my legs pressed against a softness that I couldn’t identify at first. Then I realized that it was Heathers rear end. My penis was nestled between her cheeks.
Sliding a hand around her hips, I slipped it under her night shirt and around a breast. Pulling her to me, I pushed my penis deeper into her butt while leaning my head over her shoulder and into the fragrance of her blond hair. I began to nuzzle her earlobe with my lips, rubbing her nipple with my fingers, and inching my penis further and further toward her pussy.
She must have been in a heavy sleep, but while her mind might have been in dreamland, her body began to react to my actions. Her nipples stood out like little erasers as I alternated between touching one and then the other. Little whimpers, hardly audible slipped from her mouth.
As I felt her body respond, mine did as well. As I pushed my penis toward her slit, a tremble like a mini-earthquake rippled through her body. Quickly, I placed my hand between her legs and caressed her clit. With each touch, she jerked. Slowly I eased into her.
After an inch, I eased back out, then in again, just an inch, then two, back and forth. She was soft like velvet, wet and clingy – tight, so very tight almost as though she were sucking on me. My fingers continued to touch her clit lightly this time around the edges of the now engorged pleasure center. Lightly I touched the sides of it, around the edges.
And she responded by pushing hard against me. I slid into her as far as I could go. We began this frantic pushing and pulling until with a cry she climaxed. Moments behind her orgasm, I gushed my cream deep inside her.
As our excitement died down, I began thinking of Kathi. What if she felt all the activity in the bed? I truly did love her. I would never want her to be hurt by what happened between Heather and I.
So I listened for a long time and could only detect the regular even breathing of a person deep in slumber. So I remained inside Heather until my penis softened and I fell out of her. Yet I continued to hold her throughout the night.
Toward morning, I shifted so I was now facing Kathi’s buttocks. In perfect spooning formation we spent the last hour together, the light of the morning spreading through the room.
Two years passed. Heather was rooming at college with a couple of girl friends. Graduation was in two months. Her plans were to travel to Costa Rica for further studies at a university there.
Carmen, turned 18, was as crazy as ever, only legal now. We had this on again off again flirting situation going. She dressed provocatively, had for two years, rushing through the condo naked, tight skirts, no panties, breasts popping out at opportune moments, a touch on the thigh, a lick on the neck, a hug nightie to t-shirt – the list went on and on. For two years I handled it as well as I could. On her eighteenth birthday, things were different.
An emergency to Heather required Kathi’s attention. A male stud with extra hormones had pushed the envelope, raped the poor girl. It happened the night Carmen turned eighteen. I wanted to be the hero, rescuing poor Heather, enjoying her gratefulness, her body open for my tender care. But Kathi’s motherhood rose to the occasion. She rushed off to help the tender girl, mothering her in tender embrace. I wanted to be that embrace.
So somewhat miffed, I spent the evening alone with Carmen.
“It just isn’t fair you know,” she said. “Just so ridiculous. I could kill Mom.”
“So what do you want to do then?” I asked.
“I want to be with my friends,” she said. “I’m eighteen for fucks sake.”
“Too bad you’re stuck with me. It’s not my fault your Mom doesn’t trust you out alone on your birthday.” I smiled at the girl to show her I wasn’t offended. “Anyway, I like being alone with you.”
“I bet you’d rather be with Heather right now,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, always trying to get a peek under her skirt, not that she wears pendik escort many of them.”
“I must admit. I do like her. No use denying it. So your stuck with me. What do you want to do?”
“Maybe there’s a movie on,” she said flicking through the channels with the remote.
A few minutes later she threw the remote on the floor in disgust. “Nothing on this piece of shit TV.”
“How about a game of poker?” I suggested.
“OK,” she said. “How about some alcohol?” She raced off to the kitchen. Kathi had an unopened bottle of Rum under the sink. Carmen grabbed a couple of glasses, threw some ice in each of them and returned with the Rum and a shot glass.
“The loser of each hand drinks a shot,” I said. “You can pour it in the glass of ice, but the drink goes down before the next hand ends.”
“What stakes?” I asked.
“Dunno. I’m broke.”
“You’ve got assets though,” I said smiling with just a twist of a grin. “We could play strip poker on steroids.”
“Sure,” I said. “We each write out things we want to do to the other person or have them do to us. If a person loses, then that person needs to do what’s on the paper. Of course we start with the clothes, only use the steroids when the clothes are all gone.” I grabbed a sheet of paper and ripped off strips, handed Carmen five of them and took the other five myself.
After writing all our fantasies on the papers, I shuffled them, handed five to Carmen and took the rest myself.
“Well, we each need to take a drink first to get started,” Carmen said.
I poured a shot and downed it with one tilt of my head. “And we promise never to stop playing until one of us has won everything.”
I shuffled the cards and as they lay in front of her, Carmen glanced at me with this nervous twitch. “I’m a bit scared,” she said. “This is crazy isn’t it? I mean anything can happen. I’m not on the pill or anything.”
“If it goes that far, you’ll have to take responsibility. Just don’t blame it on me.”
We picked up our cards and the game began.
Carmen lost the first hand, then the second and third. Her shirt, jeans, and shoes lay on a pile in front of me.
I antied up my shoes, she her bra. I couldn’t help staring at her breasts, large and round with just the trace of a sag. It had been a long time since I had touched a breast as young and soft as these appeared to be.
I had three kings. I bet my jeans. She tossed in her thong panties. She was naked and drunk, so drunk she had a hard time holding her cards straight. I could see that she had three tens. She was the dealer so I asked for two cards. She also wanted two.
One of my two was a king, so I now had four. She swayed and almost fell into the antie – the pile of clothes. I grabbed her to steady her and accidentally touched her breast. She giggled. I also saw her cards, a full house.
Yet my four tens had her beat. So I bet my shirt, my pants, and my underwear. Now I was naked as well. She bet three of her pieces of paper.
“Now take your shot,” I said. “That’s four things I won. So you need to take four shots.”
“That will kill me,” she said. “Anyway, it’s one shot per losing hand.”
So she drank the shot and I quickly poured another. She threw that down as well without thinking. I read the first of the three papers I had won – oral sex until the person comes. I read it out loud.
“I get a blow job,” I said.
“No,” she protested. “That’s for a pussy lick.”
I didn’t argue. Her pussy looked delicious.
She came and came and came again. Drunk as she was, her screams reached fever pitch. I couldn’t stop and she didn’t want me to.
Pausing after her third or fourth orgasm, I read the next slip of paper – Fuck me until your baby is mine.
And that’s what I did. Without condom or any other protection, I slid over her, positioning my penis appropriately, I pressed against her opening. Other lovers had been there previously, but the entrance was still tight. The juices overflowed onto the sheet. I slid to the hilt with a squishy sound.
“OOOOOOh” she said. “Fuck me Dan. Give me your baby. I want that baby.”
Grabbing her buttocks with both hands, I pulled her to me and me into her. As I smashed into her, she screamed again. It was as though I couldn’t get far enough inside of her. I kept pulling her butt with as much force as possible, slamming my body toward her, my hardness deep inside her. And each slam brought fresh screams.
I was about to come but didn’t want it to end. So I slowed down, gave myself a bit of a rest, her as well, then started the process again, the build-up, the thrashing around. It might have been vaginal muscles or just the tightness of youth, but even just lying without moving was wonderful, just a bit of motion back and forth before allowing all my senses to flow free, losing sense of reality. When I came it was as though the world had died, as though an atomic bomb had exploded.
“You’re the greatest fuck I’ve ever had,” I whispered to her afterwards.
She smiled. We were off the sheet on the carpet, our juices running out of her onto the shag material. “This has been the wildest evening ever. And it isn’t over.” She ran to the bathroom to clean up, returning moments later.
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