I saw her at a fast food restauraunt. The top of her brunette head came just up to my shoulder. She turned just to glance at the person joining the line. Her blue eyes and my hazel eyes met and almost never looked away. We both smiled, inhailed, grinned, spoke our names. I think we got some sodas to go and finished them while walking back to my apartment.
I was lean and fit, just home from the war that Spring, my hair just a few months long, enjoying my first apartment and the wild underground social scene. She was a real teen cutie, fresh from high school, class ring and all; a smooth, round-ish figure, heavy breasts and slightly plump thighs and rear; that glorious blend of teen "baby fat" and a maturing, womanly figure.
Her smile was electric, enchanting. I'm sure mine was just a big, goofy, horny grin. When our hands touched we both felt the rush; we both saw the effects: my tenting slacks and her stiff nipples.
The walk home got faster.
I fumbled my key in the lock because Selma was pressing her firm breasts into my side and groping my crotch. We tumbled inside, closed and relocked the door, then locked our bodies and full lips together.
My penis pushed hard against her lower belly. Her hands unbuttoned my shirt. Mine pushed her tight cotton t-shirt up and off so I could hold her breasts. Hers pulled my drawstring open and pushed my slacks down. I unsnapped, removed her bra. I could only bury my face into those firm, unsagging, amateur model index amateur model index's large tits. Licking, kissing, holding, bouncing, suckling, carassing them. She could only hold my stiffness, squeezing, stroking, pressing it against her soft, warm, darling round tummy.
We dry humped in the front hall, Selma against the wall, gasping as my thigh rubbed slowly between her legs, groaning as her gentle fingers rippled up and down my shaft, massaging it against her chubby thigh. I slipped my hands slowly down her back, her sides, under her panty waistband, down over the generous curves of her large tight butt.
We kissed all the while, moaning and sighing and licking and nibbling. As I ground my penis against her, pushing it down between her thighs, she managed to murmur "I really want you! Oh!...oh!...pleeeease make...oh!...love to me. Come inside me. Eat me!"
We made it to the large futon in the living room. Her white cotton briefs joined all our other clothes somewhere. Her furry amateur model index (this was way before shaving and trimming were hip) was rich with her arroused aroma, slick with her amateur model index juice. My tongue danced over her lips, darted inside, traced the crease of her thigh, wiggled in around her bud.
She rocked her hips insistantly against my mouth, gasping louder and louder, flowing wetter and wetter, squeezing my head tighter and tighter with her firm thighs. My mouth covered her clitoris and tunnel; I suckled gently, rhythmically on the whole area; my tongue moved languidly back and forth over her moderately large clit; my arms tried to force her gripping legs apart so I could breathe. Her cries rose in pitch and shortened in length. In a few short moments her amateur model index was spasming, filling my mouth with her spicy hot juices, and her cries became an extended shrill squeal.
In the kitchen we shared a cool drink and, I'm sure, some chit-chat. I don't recall much beyond a lot of oogling each other's bodies, some touching, some kissing, and, most vividly, Selma kneeling down to take my hard-on into her mouth. The tiled counter top was cool and hard against my butt; the wet, slippery tongue was warm and soft around my cock. Her hands cupped my rear, stroked my thighs, held my balls; one encircled my penis to assist her bobbing mouth. My hands stroked her wild dark hair, tickled her ears, lightly held her head to show her when she sucked/stroked me right. I was moaning very pretty loud when she eased back from me saying, "My knees hurt. Let's go lay down and fuck."
I padded after her towards the bedroom, staring at her perfect round chubby cheeks flexing/bouncing/quivering. She jumped onto the bed, pausing on all fours to grin back at me and my hard flopping cock. I didn't think, I didn't ask, I didn't say anything loving or sexy. Pure pheremone lust for this well-padded, brunette cutie took over. I got up behind her and slipped into her fur-ringed amateur model index in one firm slow push. Selma gave another small surprised squeal. I grabbed her fleshy waist, her full hips, and started to pump in short steady strokes. She pushed back, wiggling and rocking to find the right counter-rhythm. She dropped her shoulders to the bed and arched her back to find the right place inside for me to fuck against. I just fucked her. Hot, hard, steady thrusts of a stiff penis into a slippery, squeezing, flowing cunt. Desparate panting, groaning-thru-clenched-teeth fucking. Sweaty buns, wet thighs, damp belly-slapping fucking. Clawing-the-sheets, hair-tossing, primal-groaning, G-spot-pounding, squirting-cunt fucking.
We both sunk into a brief, but exhausted sleep, damp, sticky legs tangled, arms around her spoon-fashion, our musky, sexy aroma filling the room.
We woke some time later, still twined together. Our yawning and stretching led to kissing and hugging which led to fondling and humping. Selma's warm, slick amateur model index slid down my wake-up harn-on. My arms hugged her, my hands cupped and caressed her firm round buns. Her hard-nippled breasts wiggled over my chest. We fucked slowly, savoring the feel of hot amateur model index bodies pulsing with joyous animal passion. She rode me slow and steady, sprawled over me, her weight restricting my movements, her hips rocking her amateur model index up and down my shaft, her amateur model index dripping, squishing as she moved and moaned. She rode me quicker and firmer, sitting up, her knees up by my ribs, her fingers touching her clit, her tight tunnel muscles stroking me as I thrust and moaned.
"I'm almost late for work,"
Selma called out as she burst into my apartment one morning.
"I'll come here for lunch, OK?" she asked as she hurried into the bedroom.
Not that I wasn't happy to see her, but *first thing* in the morning? My first cup of coffee was still warm and my first pipe barely touched. And, of course, there were a couple of sex magazines open on the bed and I had a floppy, half hard-on. And a surprised, floppy, half grin.
"Oh!--," she said, seeing me. "Ooohh!...starting without me, huh?" she teased.
"And I was gonna show you my new panties before I went to work, to give you peek at what might cum later!"
She moved toward the bed hiking her uniform skirt with each step. Her legs were sheathed in smooth taupe pantiehose which highlighted their firm, round shapes.
"But, maybe I won't since this skinny blonde bitch here--" She took the magazine from my unresisting hand. "What's her damn fake name?--"Cynthia" has got you hard already!"
The hem of her skirt stopped rising. She grinned at me, her hands on her hips holding her skirt up. "Not hard enough, Selma! You're so, sooo much better than any paper fantasy!"
"Yeah, right, man!" she teased as she jumped up on the bed and straddled my hips. Her skirt got shoved way up around her waist, her pantiehose were stretched tight over her thighs, belly, crotch. Her panties were hip-huggers, dark blue nylon. Her tummy made a delightful round bulge creased by her pantie waistband and by that of her hose.
My penis swelled from the contact with the slippery, shiny nylons, from the weight of her on my lap, from the fleshy bounce of her ass cheeks under my hands.
"And now that I've seen your lovely panties...what might cum later? This horny small amateur model index? My hot dick?...eh?"
"Yes! you bastard! Both I hope!"
We kissed and groped for a minute. "But when I'm away I want you to go easy on the hand jobs with these magazine sluts. I want you to be real hard and full for me."
"I will be! You know what I like to do first thing. That'll be all 'til you get here."
She slipped off my lap and knelt beside the bed. "I know. Today I'm gonna help!" Her hand replaced mine, her rhythm replaced mine. She started slow, getting the feel of my stiffnes, letting my foreskin slide up and down the head, never below the rim. She'd picked up that trick early on because she'd never seen an un-cut penis before and she wanted to learn all she could about guys. She learned very, very well. Her pace quickened, her grip tightened a bit, her stroke included a subtle twisting motion that set my legs shaking. I started bucking my hips, moaning.
"Lie still! I know how hot you are. I wanna make you cum real quick. I gotta get to work!"
I tried. I really tried to stay still. But Selma's hand was too good, her pumping was too good, her ring of thumb-and-finger flickering over my cockhead was way too good. I groaned in surrender as my nuts clenched and the liquid fire rose up my shaft. Three good squirts erupted with her final strokes. Three or four more small ones followed as she slowly milked my tingling, softening cock.
*Now I could lie still!*
"There! That outta hold you 'til I get back. If you promise not to cum again until I get back, I'll have a real large surprise for you! Something I know you'll like!"
"I promise! I promise!"
We kissed and she was gone.
"Well, Cynthia, I guess this morning is not our morning," I said, picking up the magazine. The thin, blonde cuite on her bed in her scanty underwear smiled sweetly at the camera, reaching back to unhook her bra, suggesting she liked her tities sucked. The other magazine had Laurie lifting her skirt to show off her lacy black bikinis, her stocking tops, her matching garter belt, demanding that her watcher take his penis in hand and show how much he liked her. "And you, Laurie, will just have to take my word for it that I do like you!"
I was driven to distraction all day. Imagining her "surprise" and trying to not browse my magzines as she asked had me hot and bothered. Images of some of my favorite models, fantasies about Selma and her games kept popping into my thoughts. My then current favorite PH Pet was Elesbeth, a rounded amateur model index Brit in frilly corset, stockings and suspenders, pictured posing around her victorian bedroom. One picture of her lying tummy-down on her bed, legs slightly spread, smooth round cheeks swelling from her lacy tap panties kept re-occurring. That, and remembering some Selma's other teasing games, kept me vaguely aroused all day. I got no code written that day.
By the time that afternoon when I heard her in the hall, I was a wreak, a wreak with an hours-long half hard-on.
"Hi, honey!" she greeted. "Did you keep it zipped-up today?" She grinned a naughty happy smile.
"Just barely! But yes!"
We kissed and hugged in the living room. Her hips felt sooo good pressing against mine. Her large soft breasts were a wonderful warm weight in my hands. Her curious groping hand was a welcome sensation on my rear, hips, groin.
"It feels like it's all there!" she said cupping my buldge.
"Ummm?...yes...?...what's all there?"
"Your load, silly!"
Laughing she stepped back and unzipped herself out of her tight polyester waitress uniform. Her large breasts were barely contained by her black nylon underwire bra. Her broad, round hips, bouncy cheeks, and shapely legs were sheathed in taupe nylon, control-top pantiehose and...surprise!...no panties! The dark blue nylon briefs she had on that morning were gone.
She did a quick, hand-on-thrust-out-hip pose, then turned about.The sight of her large round ass squeezed tight and smooth by the pantiehose was too much for me. I popped up to full erection when she bent over and pulled her panties from her bag.
"Here. I wore these almost all day," she said waving them under my nose. "I got kinda wet thinking about you at breaktime. I went into the john and touched myself...a lot!...and they got wetter. Smell!" Her warm body snuggled into my arms, her thigh pushed between mine, the aroma of her damp undies making me dizzy with sudden lust. My hand slipped down her taut, round tummy, seeking the furry wet slit below and...surprize!...the cotton gusset of the pantiehose was torn open. Her full lips were warm and damp, her fur tickled my fingers, her amateur model index was slick under my fingers. She groaned through our tongue-kiss and humped my hand, her amateur model index soon squishing with her flow.
"No fair!" I managed to gasp between kisses."You got to finger yourself and I didn't! I swear I didn't!"
"Yes, but I didn't finish! I just did...oh, yes!...uuuummmmmm!...what you're doing now...oooohhh! ooooohhh!..."
Her amateur model index rotated furiously on my fingers. My penis rubbed tall and hard against her nyloned thigh.
"And I'm gonna finish real soon...too soon...if you don't stop moving!"
She pushed me back on the couch. She pulled my pants off. She knelt in front of me and took my penis in her hand. "Yea, you'll finish soon. And we'll start all over again!"
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