Black Football Costumed fan fucks my wife.
*
I think the good Lord gave me a pretty good wife. The two have and to hold bit had worked out really well. We met at church right after I came back from my Mission to New Zealand. My family had lived in the same Ward since I was a kid and Taylor and her family had moved into the neighborhood right before my return.
She had the love for God in her eyes and the figure of an angel. Your typical Mormon blonde with blues eyes. She was too young for me at the time so all I could do was sit back and enjoy her beauty. With me heading off to college and her mired in high school any relationship didn’t seem possible.
Actually I was twenty-one and she was fourteen, just ready for ninth grade. We’d see each other at Church when I had a weekend home at my parents. Although she remained the dutiful virgin I had quite a run with the ladies. I stayed in good shape and dabbled in sports. Contrary to what you would expect from a religious school getting lots of pussy wasn’t that hard at BYU. Freed from the rigid upbringing young freshmen ladies could be quite the little tramps. Putting out was one of the requirements in most circles. By the first time home for a holiday the young and sweet teens had tried a collection of cocks from the guys.
Lucky for me Taylor didn’t get the chance to be a little slut. The fall of my senior year in college was Taylor’s senior year in high school. The age gap still existed with me now at twenty-five and she just coming up on eighteen.
A big surprise awaited me later in the Sunday afternoon after Church. I was watching football on TV when my Dad answered the door and came back to me.
“Taylor from Church wants to talk to you.”
“I wonder what she wants?”
“You figure it out. You’re the college boy.”
Dad was a tradesman. He didn’t think much of college. I only got to go at my mother’s insistence and Dad seemed to have a grudge against it. Taylor was waiting at the door.
“Hi, Taylor. Want to come in?”
“No out here is fine. Would you close your door, please?”
I had the feeling that I might have run over her cat or it might have been her dog I had to kick at while I was jogging the day before. Instead she almost took me off my feet.
“I was wondering why you haven’t ask me out. Am I too young for you or do you not find me attractive?”
I could only stand, mouth open, as various words tried to come out.
Finally …
“Extremely attractive. I still keep thinking you are like maybe … fourteen.”
“Do I look fourteen to you?”
She did a pose that could remove any doubt about that. A pretty bold move from a very pretty young blond. The blue eyes sparkled.
“Well, do I?”
“Uh, no. Not fourteen at all.”
“So, are you going to ask me out?”
“Uh, sure. I mean …” I heard myself stuttering.
“You can take me for a burger. I’m not an expensive date.”
“Okay, when?”
“Well, it’s too late for lunch. How about a burger for dinner?”
“Uh, sure.”
I was still thinking about the age difference. I still looked twenty-five and she, well … okay, she looked seventeen. We should get some looks from people. Especially people we might know.