My hell-raising high school years were a thing of personal adolescent legend, though like most youthful behavior the stories were far bigger than reality. At base, my reckless image was a harmless projection I used to cover my innate shyness and lack of confidence. Regardless, my teenage female classmates loved to play in my jalopy’s backseat for reasons common to many girls of that age. Those who participated quickly passed their exaggerated tales on to their younger sisters. A few of these younger budding adolescents – three or more years my junior – further embellished the lurid stories they’d heard from their elder siblings. The result was a simmering, estrogen-laced, gossip pool that fed on itself. My reputation as a love-’em-and-leave-’em wild child was therefore still alive by the time the younger girls reached college age. But by 1961 I was at least trying to steer a course that was more mature. My years as a bad boy were in the past, I figured, or so I naively believed.
The year 1961 – a long time ago to most – was pivotal in my life. I’d put myself through two years of college, had developed a social conscience in keeping with young President Kennedy’s dictum, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but…,” and I was approaching the future with starry-eyed enthusiasm. I also approached it with no money.
So, I dropped out of college and worked two shifts a day as a pharmacy clerk and delivery boy for several months. At the end of that time I had a sufficient bankroll to go to Europe to enhance my education…something many of my more fortunate friends were able to do with the aid of their parents. My way – and that of my traveling buddy, Bill – was to travel on the cheap. At the time we were guided by a paperback guidebook that explained how to tour the Continent on five dollars a day.
A couple of months before leaving our west coast hometown with packs on our backs – and our thumbs in the air to hitchhike to New York for ship passage to England – we bid adieu to our friends through a succession of parties. One such gathering was around Easter, where I happened across a high school acquaintance. Her name was Allison, a bright girl whom I’d respected, but who would probably never win a beauty contest, and to whom I’d responded only in a Platonic way when her eyes had twinkled at me while we’d been classmates in high school. In 1961 she was attending an east coast women’s college and had returned home with another girl whose parents were traveling, to stay for a week – what now is called “Spring Break.” While the parents were away, of course, the girls threw a wild party.
Before the night was over, I’d grappled with the moaning, half-drunk Allison and – at the end of a dark hallway – we’d rutted joyfully atop a wrought-iron table capped with travertine marble. Her reputation had always been that of a good sport – and she was, I was convinced when I left the party – since the frigid temperature of the stone tabletop couldn’t have been very comfortable against the warm, silky skin of her soft, fleshy, bottom as we’d coupled like rabbits. She’d really put her heart into it, as well as her ass. I remember also that at some time during the evening she’d said that her younger sister, Melinda, or “Lindy,” would be studying in France for the next year, and that I should look her up. I’d seen Lindy once at an overnight slumber party given by my younger sister and had been very impressed by her cuteness and high energy. I also knew of her reputation of being much more a party girl than her elder sister. Of course our social paths never crossed. High school girls were off limits to mature college guys – which I considered myself – so I’d never pursued her.
Six weeks later, after a month of thumbing through England and Scotland, I arrived in France with my buddy, Bill. Paris was to be our base of operations while traveling by rail for several months. After arranging to rent a cheap room by-the-night from a woman who worked at the U.S. Embassy, we picked up our mail at the American Express office. I was surprised to see that Allison’s sister Lindy had written me of her whereabouts, since I hardly knew her. Of course I was only 21 years old, and still ignorant of the marvelous communicative webs that women could weave.
“Nick!” Lindy shrieked when I saw her crossing the bridge from the Metro stop at Pont Marie onto Ile St. Louis. The picturesque smaller island in the river Seine was where we were staying when in Paris. Though a relative stranger, she leapt into my arms, and I felt immediately uncomfortable since I didn’t know how to handle such familiarity with one of my distant younger sister’s friends. We’d hardly ever said hello. “What’s the matter? Don’t you recognize me?” she bubbled, looking up at me with a radiant smile and flashing green eyes.
“Ummm…yeah. It’s just that…you’ve changed!” I mumbled, tentatively. It was true. When I’d last seen her she was a petite, five-foot-tall blonde in a pageboy cut, with a tiny body still carrying some baby fat and looking no older than fifteen. What I now held in my arms was a taller girl with a blonde ponytail and peaches-and-cream complexion, which contrasted beautifully with the dark green sleeveless blouse she was wearing. I also felt a good bit of muscle tone underlying her elongated curves. I’d already noticed her flawless legs beneath her flowered skirt as she’d crossed the bridge to meet me. In a few minutes I realized that for an 18-year-old, Lindy was quite an attractive young woman…one who typically had been voted “most popular” in her class. Yet, she was still a young lady that I wouldn’t actively pursue, especially now. In those days, hooking up with a hometown girl in Europe was like taking a sandwich to a banquet.
Nevertheless, she had plans for me.
“I don’t want to go to the Louvre with you. I’ve seen enough museums with my mom. I want to go to the fun places…drink wine at sidewalk cafes…wander along the river…nngh, get dangerous!…go to the Arab Quarter!” she exclaimed later over a cup of espresso.
“You’re with your mother?” I asked.
“Yeah. She got a divorce from Dad and has taken an apartment in St. Germain for the Summer as my chaperone. When she leaves to go home in the Fall I’ll start the one-year Art History program at the University of Grenoble…in English!”
I hid my snobbish disapproval. I’d had five years of French in school and was proficient in the language. I resented spoiled American kids who’d taken a six-week course at Alliance Francaise and had come to the Continent for watered-down lectures in the French Alps while they experimented sexually. At least her mother might be getting something out of the trip, I thought.
For four days Lindy and I partied twelve hours a day, getting to know one another, until I was about to take an extended train trip north to Scandinavia. Unlike me, she had unlimited funds, and I felt uncomfortable – like a paid babysitter – when I was with her. We’d usually end up dancing our asses off at basement clubs on the Left Bank, then I’d take her home on the Metro – Paris’s version of the underground subway – and deposit her on her mother’s doorstep, still considering her a little girl…my younger sister’s friend.
On the last night she went to the loo after we’d consumed a few beers, then we walked along the Quai de la Tournelle just next to the river. She was giggly, singing Broadway show tunes, and skipping along, pulling me by the hand. Finally she stopped at one of the many narrow benches on the quai and straddled it to look at the lights. One of the bateaux mouches – a Seine river tourist boat – was approaching and Lindy chose that moment to yank me onto the bench to face her. She held my hands and scooted forward to climb onto my legs playfully – her thighs over mine – so that both of our loins were covered by her full skirt.
She immediately became very serious and looked into my eyes to gauge my reaction. Wrapping her arms around my neck while perched on my legs facing me, she said unblinkingly, “I want you to know, Nick, that I’ve waited forever for this…ever since your sister’s slumber party a couple of years ago. Remember all of us swooning when you stopped by your folks’ place? An’ now that we’re both in Europe, when you get back from Scandinavia I wanna be with you a whole lot more.”
Before I could say anything, she kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring the cavern of my mouth. Then she reached boldly between us and unzipped my pants, fishing my hardening cock out as the boatload of tourists cruised past us. Her caressing of my prick froze as the craft’s Captain panned us with bright deck lights…a bit of traditional, good-natured nightly harassment of Parisian lovers who frequent the river banks. When the boat had passed and we were once again in the dark, Lindy resumed her slow stroking of me, coaxing me along with lewd, whispered comments as she pushed me back slightly and groaned, sliding my bulbous cock head up and down her wet slit. She’d obviously removed her panties, perhaps in the women’s restroom of the club we’d been in, if she’d worn any to begin with.
“Lindy, I’ve got a rubber!” I gasped, as I let her drop my pants before she inserted my glans into her tight, hot, moist center.
“S’okay!” she groaned. “I’m on the pill! Ohhhh-ohhh-ohh-oh-o-o,” she exhaled as she slid down onto me. “Gawd, you’re so nice ‘n’ big! It’s…ohhhh-ohhh-ohh-oh-o-o,” she repeated, this time in a moan. Another slow plunge and she’d begun adapting to my size, taking more of me on each cycle, until, finally, our loins met. I leaned back on the bench and looked up at her beautiful, quintessentially-American face, framed in blond hair and wreathed in a closed-eyed smile, and reached under her skirt to grasp her silken butt for the first time…roughly. Responding immediately, she whimpered, “Ohh, Jeezus, Nick, yeah, squeeze me! Hard! I love it! Oh…harder!” she plead as she moved upward, balanced on her flat feet as she straddled the bench under my back.
I unsnapped the top of her dress and stroked her unfettered breasts, pulling outward on her nipples as they grew harder, and began flexing up into her as she rode me like a mechanical bull. This young lady was all business, and we fucked for maybe ten minutes. Then she started with a low moan, barely perceptible, as her clasping vagina thrust to and fro on me. She grunted loudly – much as I remember her sister, Allison, doing atop the marble table – as her luscious teenage vulva flashed in what little light existed. I raised her skirt to her waist and pulled her down hard onto my tumescent probe. By now, her eyes were closed, her face knit in concentration, and her teeth clamped together in a pre-orgasmic clench. Though I shouldn’t have, I asked teasingly, “Gonna cum?”
“Aaawggh…shiiitt…yeeeeaah!” she yelled, her firm hips thrashing away at mine in a blur. “It’s…it’s…it’s…now!” she screamed, then collapsed on my chest as I hammered her through a stunning orgasm. Before she was finished, I let loose as well, filling her clasping vagina with all the semen that I had. Afterward, a few French people walked past us as we lay on the bench, kissing and hugging. I assumed that in the dark they couldn’t see the naked parts of our bodies that were covered by Lindy’s skirt.
Many minutes later, as if our tryst had been a regular thing, she giggled, wiped herself clean with my handkerchief and started chattering again. I couldn’t remember having been treated nearly as matter-of-factly by any of my erstwhile high-school conquests.
I remember staying quiet as we rode home to her mom’s apartment on the Metro. Lindy’s head was on my shoulder and her hand was on my crotch. She’d somehow staked a claim on me that week, and told me a story about a bet she’d made with Carolyn, a friend of hers and that of my sister. When in high school they’d wagered on which of them could get into my pants first. Lindy had clearly won. I’ve forgotten how I responded as she prattled on, but I did look forward to seeing her again. After all, her luscious little body was now mine for the asking, and I’d suddenly ceased viewing her as a mere giggly teenage friend of my younger sister. I also met her mother, Maureen, that night, who invited me in for a chat.
“Of course I remember you, Nick! You were in Lindy’s sister Allison’s class and spoke at the graduation. My goodness, how you’ve grown!” Maureen said, appraising my six foot plus frame with what I considered sincere parental appreciation. “You were such an earnest boy…so full of youthful energy and political idealism.”
Maureen may have been forty, but she looked a lot younger. That night she was drinking…and smoking…but it didn’t bother me. She was an older, seasoned, version of Lindy, with a deep, early-Summer suntan she’d gotten on the beaches of the Cote d’Azure. Each languorous move of her smooth, trim, arms and gorgeous legs on high heels rendered me numb, and seemingly calculated to stimulate my libido. Lindy was very quiet as I exchanged social pleasantries with her mother, then she walked me down to the building entrance after our brief conversation, reminding me of her sexual intentions when I returned from my journey north. Before I left, she slipped a hand down my jeans, stroked my slick, stinking genitals, and gave me an aggressive kiss so that I wouldn’t forget her promise. And, as I rode home on the Metro, I remembered reading about the new birth control pill that was available. I thanked the gods for living in a time when sex was so easy for enlightened, privileged people with prescriptions.
The next several weeks were busy as Bill and I took trains northward to Copenhagen, Stockholm, Oslo and other cities. I added Lindy to my postcard list and kept in touch when I could, since she was waiting for me to return. In Oslo I met a woman, Anna, on the way to Narvik, Norway, and enjoyed her sexual favors on the train which – in Narvik – she continued offering me. The result was that my travel schedule fell two weeks behind. Even Bill returned south as I continued to feed my horny appetite on Anna’s sturdy, indefatigable body. As my stay grew longer, she finally offered me, her “American lover,” to her fellow student girlfriends in a typical, sophisticated Scandinavian way. I was in heaven! Paris and Lindy could wait, I thought, until one morning I woke up and realized that I’d been placed in sexual exile above the Arctic Circle, which required only youthful energy and very little political idealism. I’d become Anna’s novel California plaything and I wanted out.
A few days later I arrived back in Paris in late afternoon, and took the Metro directly to see Lindy. After several knocks the door opened a crack and her mother said, “Nick! You’re finally back! Come in!” Maureen was in a long, silky dressing gown, barefoot, and apparently having a cocktail while listening to music on the radio. A single, dim lamp lit the living room and the window to her balcony was open to let in the errant, hot, summer breeze.
“I take it Lindy’s not in,” I said brusquely. My patience had been tried at the building’s entrance by the nosey old concierge, Madame Langlois, who’d insulted me in a typical Parisian way.
“She waited for days, Nick, and you didn’t show,” said Maureen. “Then her friend Carolyn flew in from California…they’ll be roommates this coming year…so they went to Grenoble to get situated.”
“Is she mad?” I asked.
“More disappointed than angry. She likes you, just as Allison did, and I will tell you that she and her sister have talked about you.” She gauged my response. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. You must know that about women. But, enough gossip. Let me pour you a Scotch, then let’s go out on the balcony and you can tell me all about your journeys!”
Between the time I got my drink and wandered out to the balcony, Maureen had brushed her hair, freshened her makeup, and put on a pair of open-toed summer high heels. Her silken gown showed little evidence of undergarments, and my eyes feasted on the prominent nipples of her breasts through the material. As I regaled her with tales of Viking museums and modern Scandinavian sculptors, she leaned against the wrought-iron railing and listened raptly to me, idly lolling one leg back and forth. Whenever I spoke she’d stare into my eyes, then she’d look out across the city to the Montmartre district, where Sacre Couer cathedral stood in proud, white, Byzantine splendor. Moving her right foot away from her left, her gown split open and I was transfixed by the extraordinary beauty of her tan calf, from the knee to her ankle. She gazed wistfully at the church as she listened to me, slowly smoking a cigarette and sipping her Pernod, apparently deep in her own thoughts.
“You’ve become quite well-traveled, Nick, and so mature. Where will you go next?”
“I was thinking, Berlin. Kruschev is making some noise about “keeping out the Fascists,” and I want to see what he’s gonna do,” I said, parroting the European newspaper accounts of early August, 1961.
“Could be dangerous,” said Maureen, giving me a long, penetrating look. Then she quickly changed the subject. “This is my favorite time of day in Paris…the sunset all purple and pink…the lights coming on…the…oh, listen! I love this song!” Stubbing out her cigarette, she vanished inside.
After a minute or so I got up and followed her. Maureen was dancing in slow circles – hugging herself with closed eyes – to Edith Piaf’s La Vie en Rose…an impossibly-romantic Parisian love song. She ignored my presence, as if she were moving in a meditative state, then she saw me watching, smiled, and reached out for my hand.
“I didn’t know where you’d gone…”.
“Shhh,” she whispered, “Come dance with me…please,” and pulled me into her arms, laying her head against my chest. The rich aroma of her scent, and the thick texture of her shoulder-length auburn hair, told me that this was no mere girl. This was a mother! Just a few years younger than my own! And the heat of her pelvis was giving me a boner! I tried my best to maintain some distance between our bodies, but my groin had a mind of its own and pulsed continually as we turned slowly to the music.
“I, uhh, I probably stink. I’ve been on trains for days and…”.
“Shhh,” Maureen whispered again and let loose of my left hand to undo the top few buttons of my shirt. She inhaled audibly and licked at a spot just below the hollow of my throat, making a soft, growling sound in her throat. “You smell…and taste…divine!” She then began raking her nails softly over my chest and looking up at me to test my reaction. Smiling slightly to herself, she kissed me wetly once on each pectoral. My eyes closed in a moment of rapture, and she began kissing me all over my upper chest, sending immediate bolts of excitement to my crotch and nearly buckling my knees. I gasped as my entire body tingled. “Hold me close, Nick,” she mewled, wrapping both of her arms around me and pulling down on the back of my shoulders to meld my torso with hers. Her firm hips continued pressing hotly against my groin, then she slid one leg between mine and flexed her thighs against me ever-so-slightly in response to my throbbing erection digging into her tummy.
“I’m a little nerv…”, I giggled.
“Kiss?” she interrupted, looking up at me through slitted eyelids and pulling my head down to her slightly open mouth. Our lips met softly, then more hungrily, as our bodies molded more naturally to one another. She groaned, her tongue began dancing with mine, and she grabbed me by the wrists and slid both of my hands inside her gown to cup her generous, naked breasts, causing a moan. Caressing her stiff nipples, I then broke from her mouth and traced my tongue down her alabaster neck to the aureole of one tit. “Nnnaaagghh!” she cried as my lips closed around a nipple and she shivered from the contact. I suckled her for a minute or so until she pulled away and whispered, “Bedroom, honey,” kicking off her heels as she turned and led me into the darkness by the hand.
I was almost completely undressed by the time we reached the bed. Maureen had unbelted her gown and through its open front I marveled at her luscious, firm figure, probably 34C or D-25-36, which easily matched her daughters’ frames. She lit a large candle next to the bed and I stood before her, self-consciously still wearing my briefs. She shrugged out of her gown and hooked her thumbs into my underwear, tugging it down my thighs. Her breasts were tanned from Riviera beaches, full and high on her chest, and sagged only slightly. Her dark brown nipples poked straight out at me, begging to be sucked. But before I could even touch them, Maureen had cupped my scrotum daintily in one soft palm and guided my engorged prick into her hot mouth with the other hand. I groaned lustily as her soft, wet lips enveloped me and I immediately responded by running my fingers through her hair. Three deep plunges to her epiglottis were all that she gave me before pulling off and sliding back onto the bed. “Et voila!” was all I could think of to blurt out in my excited state.
“Voila, indeed, sweetie,” she said, not taking her eyes off my shiny, pulsing member, even as she reached up to pull me down next to her on the bed. Our limbs met in a most natural fashion, with one of my thighs between hers, and she whimpered slightly as our nude bodies meshed. Her legs parted further, inviting my fingers to toy with her furry, moist pussy. She returned the favor with caresses of my cock, her touch seeming as soft and loving as the wings of a giant butterfly.
Our heavy breathing gathered momentum and we began a light, joyful moaning as our bodies quested for more excitement. The hot Parisian summer evening caused us to perspire heavily, smelling like previous generations of fetid French lovers most likely had in that very bedroom. The sucking sounds of my lips on her nipples seemed to escalate her deep breathing, punctuated by her sharp whimpers and whines. The stench of my sweat and Maureen’s musky effusions increased as our passion grew. Finally she whimpered, “Jeezus, Nick…I need you. Please! Come in me now!”
I did, guiding my probe slowly through her hairy bush into the creamy heat between her legs as I looked into her hazel eyes. Our pelvises met with a recognition that was as unhurried as if we’d made love nightly for months, yet it seemed to me as if I’d waited for that single tactile moment for a lifetime. She shouted joyfully, then grabbed me and held on tightly with her arms and legs. “Please don’t move, darling. This is so good I want to die. I knew we’d be sublime when I saw you weeks ago! Feel what I’m doing inside?”
It was true. Maureen’s rapid heartbeat was firing charges of blood to her hungry vagina, and her superb muscles were squeezing my cock with spasmodic, involuntary pulses. I just closed my eyes and felt her birth canal work on me for a while. After a while I raised my upper body to the limit of my arms, then looked down at the beautiful mature woman engulfing my penis, who was the mother of two hometown girlfriends, both of whom I’d fucked. “You’re wonderful,” I blurted, youthfully.
“Oh, stop it, silly boy; let’s make love!” she gushed in return. “Easily, okay? We’ll get wild soon enough! Easy…yes…easy. Mmm, yes…yess…yesss. Ohh…Gawwd, Nicky!”
I’d very slowly withdrawn from her depths and twisted my hips before re-entering a couple of times the tight, buttery sleeve of her cunt. “Is that how you like it? Is that what you want?” I asked, as I sank to my balls deeply inside her steamy caldron. Of all the women I’d had of late, I didn’t want to disappoint this one.
“Omigawd don’t stop moving now!” she groaned ecstatically, placing her feet flat on the bed and thrusting her vulva up at me. I didn’t. I began moving resolutely in and out of her, stirring her insides as best I knew how, and speeding my pace as we locked into the instinctive mammalian rhythm of love. “Oh! Yes! Nick! There! Sweetie! Oh! Mmmmmnnn,” she exhorted. Her babbling ceased as she captured my mouth, sucking oxygen from my laboring lungs, and she lifted both legs high in the air on either side of me so that each of my thrusts caused her to grunt when my cock thumped her cervix. From that point on we sounded like feral animals as our hips ground together, seeking with each thrust the savage joy that only an orgasm can yield.
Soon Maureen’s slick pussy began to tighten around me, making slishing sounds as my probe pounded deeply into her. To enhance her thrusting she dropped her feet flat onto the bed again and flung her pelvis up at me in a staccato movement. Then all of her muscles began tightening until her body felt like strands of steel as she gripped me by my upper arms and dug her nails into my shoulders. She began growling in her throat, breathing through clenched, gritted teeth, until she suddenly inhaled and froze with her back arched, trembling against me as she reached a wordless climax. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she quivered for a good thirty seconds, holding her breath, as her vagina palpitated around my fully-embedded prick.
She exhaled with a wild shout and resumed her rapid-fire upward fucking for another half minute, then froze again in another soundless orgasm. She repeated this cycle five or six times, each one ending in a sudden, exhaled, passionate scream, until – finally – I wrapped my arms around her waist, held on to her hips tightly, and buried myself in her, bellowing out my release. I must have cum for a full minute as Maureen dug her heels into my buttocks – gasping “yesyesyesyesyes” – and rocked me forward and backward while vacuuming my spunky load into her demanding womb.
Sometime around midnight I awoke to hear her in the shower, after which she returned to the bedroom and gently began washing my funky genitals with warm water and a washcloth. “You’re really amazing,” I confessed in a whisper.
“And you’re a sweetheart to say so,” she beamed, wringing out the cloth. “But I’m just a middle-aged divorcee kicking up her heels in Paris. This city’s history is so full of women like me that we’re a cliche! The only difference is that you’re from home…and my daughters think you’re special.”
“Will you be staying a while?” I asked.
“Oh, Nicky, I don’t know. Why? Do you want to see me again?” she probed, as she dabbed at my nuts with the warm terrycloth.
“Don’t say anything you might regret, sweetie,” she interrupted. “What’s important is that we’re together tonight. Now lean back against that pillow. Such ardor in a young man deserves a good tongue lashing!”
She laid aside the washcloth and its saucer and straddled my waist, looking unblinkingly into my eyes. First she kissed my lips, then trailed her tongue down my chest to my navel, then licked around the crown of my cock, which she’d been slowly caressing with both hands. I tried to match her gentleness with my own hands, which cupped and fondled her soft, pendulous breasts as they brushed against my torso, but that was short lived as she was intent on fellating me. “Nnnn-uuughh!” I grunted as she plunged her mouth down over my erection. “Feels-so-good,” I gasped with my butt off the sheets, as she slowed her rhythm to a near halt in an agonizing, teasing way, all the while humming softly in her throat.
“I tasted your cum earlier in the bathroom…and I want some more,” she murmured, her eyes flashing lewdly. “Will you give me some more? Huh? It’s got to excite you that Lindy’s mother wants to swallow your jizz!”
“Ohgawdyeahitdoes!” I cried, my voice breaking as I was unable to control myself. “You’re so…”.
“I know, baby,” she cooed, soothing my crazed libido for a brief second. “C’mon now,” she murmured, stroking my angry cock ultra-slowly with her soft hands, then thrusting her mouth quickly over the glans. She repeated that movement two dozen times, all the while gazing into my eyes, then laid the crown in the middle of her tongue and jacked me so slowly I thought my heart would burst.
My nuts did instead. The first blast of cum shot directly into Maureen’s open mouth and she grabbed my hips, engulfing as much of my prick as she could. I yelled as each volley left my body and she swallowed every one, mumbling “Mmmm-hmmm! Mmmm-hmmm! Mmmm-hmmm!” Finally I was spent…finished…and giggled at my complete feeling of helplessness. I looked down at Maureen and she cleared her throat of any residue, murmuring wryly, “I’ll never understand some men. Give them the blow job of the century and all they do is chuckle.”
I awoke around dawn, and we were roughly in the same position. Maureen’s head was on my groin and she’d drooled a blend of saliva and cum onto my pubic batch. As I looked down at her tousled hair, I felt a horny stab in my groin, then a guilty feeling in my head, then another series of glandular palpitations as my morning hard-on began to take shape under her cheek. “Good morning,” I whispered, as her eyelashes fluttered and she groaned, rolling off of me onto the bed. I immediately assumed that she wasn’t a morning person, since she’d curled into a half fetal position with her back to me. Undaunted, I spooned behind her, nestling my hardened prick in the tight opening at the nexus of her legs. I slipped slowly forward to feel her moist labia against my cock head.
“Nnnn, Nick…lemme sleep,” she plead, whining in a girlish voice. I didn’t answer, but instead reached over her and cupped a breast in one hand, teasing lightly at its nipple, causing her to moan. “Please, honey, I can’t even kiss you I taste so bad.” At last she was awake, and I wasn’t to be denied! “Ohhh!” she gasped, as I slipped from behind her and laid her on her back, kneeling between her lovely tan legs and gazing down at the dew drops of nectar that had gathered on her snatch. She anticipated what I was going to do and muttered, “You dirty little boy. God only knows where you’ve been all my life!” and pulled me down by the arms until her hands had grasped my head. I looked at her and she appeared more excited than I’d seen her since arriving. Her green eyes were ablaze. She was hyperventilating in anticipation of my mouth on her, and her tan lower tummy – just over her womb – was trembling as if a thousand sexual demons were struggling to escape its fecund confines. “Ooohhhhh?!” she whined, as I poised my mouth over her vulva, breathing hotly onto her mound and spreading her thick pubic hair to reveal her pinkness. “Niiiiickyyyyyy!” she yelped, as my tongue lapped at her from rectum to clit and back again. I gave her fifty licks in half as many seconds, causing her to mewl and pull my face into her crotch as my twisting tongue screwed into her syrupy insides.
I flicked at her clit with the tip of my tongue and watched it darken from pink to red. Then I speared her vagina as deeply as I could, sucking her thick morning discharge into my mouth. Back to her clit, I punished it gently with soft lingual brushes then watched it swell to twice its original size and shrug off its hood. Pulling back again, I saw her inner labia spasm and a rivulet of pale, clear fluid ooze out to moisten the sheets under her buttocks.
“You taste…divine,” I drooled, borrowing a word she’d previously used with me. Somewhere in the back of my head I was waiting to use her word sublime in the proper context.
“Ohh, honey!” she gasped. “I’m gonna…yes…I’m gonna cummm, Nicky!” she groaned, her upper body twisting as I held her hips captive. “An’ its…aahhnngh…aahhnngh…aahhnngh,” she began grunting, thrashing her hair back and forth and moaning until she finally froze for a half minute, then grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until she was spent. I finally released her steely hips when they’d ceased trembling and her breathing had stopped rasping in her throat. Then she murmured, “My Gaawwd,” as I turned her over gently and brought her to her hands and knees. “Oh honey I love it but please don’t hurt me,” she plead uninterruptedly, at the same time arching her back, spreading her knees widely, and opening her moist gash to me. Then, before I could guide my glans into her pussy, she’d pushed herself back onto me, enveloping two or three inches of my veiny tan cock.
The next movement was mutual. My hands guided her lean, round hips toward me and she thrust backward, her deeply pink cunt seeming to reach out for sustenance from my rampant prick. We both groaned as I reached her cervix and remained embedded, stirring my hips in a circle until her whining reached a fever pitch, then pulling away from her. From her depths, I’d mined a thick, yellowish goo that I’d seen only a few times in women. “Jeezus, Maureen!” I cried, as her vagina clamped down on my next several plunges and her inner labia clutched at me, leaving a half-inch of their swollen elasticity pulling outward at my plundering rod.
“Yes, baby!” she yelled. “More, please!…harder!…oh, Gawd…i’s so goooood!”
Neither of us heard the phone ringing. Only when it had stopped did we realize it, and by then we were far beyond being attentive. I’d gotten off my knees and was perched flat-footed behind Maureen, drilling her brutally from a half-stance while pulling her back by her shoulders. Our slapping loins would have sounded comical had it not been for our very serious, passionate, outcries. But humor was not part of our agenda. I was reaching a peak, as was she. She’d risen off her hands and reached back to grasp one of my hips as I flung it at her, and with the other hand had spread her butt cheeks apart. I grabbed her upper body and we came together – mightily – with me erupting into her repeatedly. I’d never had an orgasm as intense, nor as lengthy, and at its end I collapsed to the side, with a torrent of cum leaking from around our enmeshed parts.
“The phone?” I asked, when our breathing had stabilized.
“It was probably Lindy,” she said quietly, picking away absently at a few of my blond chest hairs. “She’s been calling about this time every day.”
I said nothing.
“Christ! What have I done?” she exclaimed to herself. “Not a word to her, Nick! Okay? She’s so looking forward to being with you, and now I’ve betrayed her!”
“Maureen! Lindy’s a friend of my younger sister’s! I’ve never promised her anything!” What I truly wanted to say, I couldn’t. In 24 hours I’d fallen in lust – maybe more – with this older woman.
“You go to Berlin, then go see Lindy in Grenoble on the way back. If I’m still in Europe we can get together again. It’s not that I don’t want to…to see you,” she said, turning away to avoid my eyes. That’s when the phone rang again.
“Hi, honey!” said Maureen cheerfully to her daughter. “Sorry. I must’ve been in the shower. Good news! Nick came by last night…yeah, he looks good! Was so sorry he missed you!”
She gave me a glance that would frighten an executioner, assuring my silence.
“Tell me about your rooms, and give me the address and phone number. I’ll be sure to give ’em to Nick when he comes by again. When? Oh, I don’t know. He said something about going to Berlin. Yeah. Don’t know, honey.”
Bored, I went to the bathroom and showered…after over three days. When I emerged Maureen and Lindy were still on the phone. I dressed and mimed to Maureen that I was going to the patisserie to buy some rolls to go with her excellent coffee. I returned to find her off the phone, showered and in a robe, with her hair in a wet twist over one shoulder.
“Lindy can hardly wait to see you,” she said quietly.
“Why? She won her bet with Carolyn,” I responded, petulantly.
“I hope it’s more than that, Nicky. There are worse things I can think of than to have you as my daughter’s lover,” she said, pointedly.
I froze inside at that suggestion. I was far from committing myself to any woman. “I need to get to Berlin, then see Switzerland and Italy. I can get work in Naples with some U.N. friends to extend my trip into Greece, then Egypt.” I hesitated as she looked at me. “Do you have to go back in late September?”
“I don’t have to do anything, sweetie. But I’d be doing you a disservice by staying here and being your mistress. You’re a young man, seeing the world! I’m certainly not going to follow you around.” She left the table for a few minutes. Returning, she gave me a card. “Here’s Lindy’s new address and phone number, and the address and number here. I put down Madame Langlois, the concierge’s number, too. Call her if I’m not in…anytime.”
“I guess that’s it, then,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable and anxious to leave. I strode to the front door, hoisting my backpack in the crook of one arm.
“Wait!” Maureen cried, her voice breaking as she ran to me. Then she stopped, breathing heavily. “I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I can’t remember ever spending many nights like the one we just had!” she whispered into my chest. “Now kiss me and leave, young man. I’ve said enough! Be kind to Lindy, and…come back to me soon!”
As I walked down the stone stairs to meet Bill and get ready for another trip, I’d never been more confused by a woman. Talk about mixed messages!
Berlin in August, 1961, was the most exciting city in the world. Just before the East Germans started building “The Wall,” we got a chance to visit the eastern sector. I was appalled at the mountains of rubble in that area that still existed from WWII after seventeen years of Communist rule.
West Berlin was entirely different. A modern city, it had benefited fully from the Marshall Plan. It was vibrant, almost electric, and we were fortunate to get a sixth-story hotel room fifty yards from where the east-west wall was being erected. Fortunate, that is, because we could watch Russian tanks and troops maneuver about, and be typical students while we partied with some newfound German friends. Americans were heroes that month, and horny, party-loving Berlin girls were plentiful in those frantic few days. But when the wall was up and politics were no longer grist for my political imagination, we decided to move southward. Before we left I picked up a card from Maureen at Berlin’s American Express office. Please call me, it said. I got a similar postcard from Lindy, asking when I’d be in Grenoble, but I decided first to call her mother.
“I’ve thought a lot about you, Nick, but I’ve lost perspective,” said Maureen over the phone. “I need to see you. Since you’re going to meet Lindy in Grenoble, could we meet in, say, Strasbourg? It’s only a few hours east of Paris by train and I know of a great hotel. We could…talk…and…please, Nick!” she begged, almost in a whine.
She sounded imbalanced, half-hysterical. Do I need this? I wondered. Then I remembered our pleasurable night together and relented.
“I’ll be there day-after-tomorrow…probably early evening,” I promised. “Just for a short while, though. I’ve gotta get south before the weather changes!” I was beginning to feel her tightening possessive shackles more than I liked as I wrote down the address of the hotel in Strasbourg. Then I called Lindy.
“Where have you been?” she screeched over the phone. “I got a card from Berlin, but heard they were detaining American civilians and I got worried!”
“I’ve got lots of stories,” I admitted, as I listened to her excited, over-the-shoulder chatter to her roommate, Carolyn, on the other end. “But I can’t be there for a few days.”
“Well, get here when you can,” she cautioned. “I don’t know when Mom’s leaving but when she does, I’ve gotta go to Paris and see her off! Oh, and Nick! There are a lotta people here who know you…or know of you, an’ it’s a non-stop party!”
I warmed to the thought of being an experienced traveler, describing the troubles in Berlin to Lindy’s friends, a gang of impressionable teenagers in their freshman year abroad. But I had first to deal with her beautiful, fortyish mother on a stopover in Strasbourg, which promised far more exciting moments. Both prospects would of course do wonders for my male ego.
I tapped lightly on the door of Maureen’s suite late the following afternoon. She opened the door immediately and I sucked in my breath at her loveliness. As always, her auburn hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup flawless. Her radiant smile, with the whitest of teeth, was complimented by green eyes that shone like moist emeralds. She pulled me inside and embraced me tightly as my backpack slid to the floor. Her lips brushed my neck and a shard of passion shot to my groin as I smelled her honey-like breath. “Come sit down,” she whispered. “Are you tired? Want a drink? Want to take off your boots? Scotch okay?”
I gave her a quizzical look and she realized she’d asked four questions. She laughed a bit too forcefully as I responded, “No, yes, no and yes!”
“I’m sorry, honey…Nick…I’m so nervous! First the drink!” she said, trotting quickly to the sideboard. I watched her from the back and my groin started pulsing. She was wearing a snug, jersey, off-the-shoulder floral top that stopped just above her breasts and showed half of her deeply-tanned upper back. Her full cotton skirt flared from her small waist, ending at the knee, and was obviously buoyed underneath by petticoats of some sort. Her luscious tan legs were without stockings…just the way I’d remembered from our first night. On her tiny feet were three-inch heels with ankle straps. She finished pouring drinks and corked the bottle, only to stand there with her back to me. She placed both hands on the sideboard, almost to brace herself against it, and said, “Nicky…I can feel your eyes on me. When that happens, I lose all self-control. I forget who I am…a middle-aged mother of two college-age daughters. A lonely divorcee who’s…who’s…oh, fuck it!” she said, then turned to walk slowly to me with our drinks. The look in her eyes had changed from one of radiance to a dull, almost-narcotic stare.
She handed me my Scotch and sat hers on a small coffee table which she moved away from in front of the sofa. She stood between my feet, standing and looking down at me for a few seconds, then sank to the floor, perched between my knees, laying her head on my thigh. “A divorcee who’s what?” I asked, a bit surprised at her outburst. It was 1961. I’d led a relatively sheltered life and had never before heard a woman use the “F” word.
“One who’s made a fool of herself…with her daughter’s boy friend!” she murmured.
“I am not Lindy’s boy friend!” I exclaimed. “I mean, I feel a lot closer to you than I do to her!”
The dull look vanished from her eyes. “Do you really?” she asked, grasping both of my thighs and rising to her knees. I nodded quickly as her hands spread flat and moved toward my crotch. “Then it’s okay if I undress you?” she asked, somewhat timidly. I nodded again and a slight smile split her lips, then a look of purpose knitted her face as she struggled to unbuckle my belt and open my pants. “Then you like me,” she gasped as she wrestled my pants and shorts down over my butt. “I’m not just an old slut, chasing after a kid half her age!” I was about to respond but she interrupted me, with almost a squeal of joy, as my rising cock snapped out of my briefs, right in her face. She grasped it by the root and muttered salaciously, “Mmmmnn…you want me too…dontcha’,” as her tongue flicked out to wet the dark red crown repeatedly. I stiffened and threw back my head ecstatically as she murmured several lewd things, the one I most remember being, “Thas’ good, baby, ‘cuz I’ve had days to think about what I’m gonna do to you. We’re gonna have so much fun!”
“Maureen, I haven’t bathed in…”, I wheedled, half-heartedly.
“Shush, sweetie,” she mewled as she licked. “You taste jus’ like last time…tangy ‘n’ soooo goddam male. Now just lay back there an’ watch what I do to you.”
Her incredible mouth soon engulfed as much of me as she could take, all the while she was looking in my eyes. She then grasped me with both hands and very slowly began milking me from my pubis to my glans, stopping only to tongue and suck at my near-bursting cock’s helmet. Deeply in her throat she was humming softly, vibrating my shaft ’til I yelled, “I’ll cum in your mouth!” still trying to focus on her piercing green eyes.
“Mmmm-hmmm, that’s what I want,” she murmured between long pulls. “Come on…come on, honey…give me your yummy jizz. Cum in my mouth…my hot mouth…my hot, wet mouth. Cum, Nicky. Please give it to me. Please cummmm!”
I was transfixed as Maureen’s thin, tan hands moved up and down my rod, stopping at her lips which flexed softly around my corona. I was hypnotized by the unblinking stare of her green eyes, boring into the depths of my libido. Is it now? Will you cum in the next instant? they seemed to ask. I felt I was going to explode when, suddenly with one hand, she pulled down the front of her top, baring both of her full breasts. Their nipples were hard and brown, with a tinge of pink from excitement. Her tits felt like two small satin pillows rubbing against my inner thighs, causing me to grunt, then to whine from sensory overload.
I plunged my fists downward into the cushions on each side of me and raised up a few inches in ecstasy. But Maureen followed me and suddenly began licking my balls, first one then the other, until they both had retreated up into my crotch in preparation for my orgasm. Thirty seconds later a long, white geyser shot straight up and looped down over Maureen’s hair and forehead to bisect her face. She gave a joyous little scream and covered my dick, immediately sucking blast after seedy blast into her swallowing throat. Finally I popped free of her lips and her hands worked four or more ribbons of semen from me onto her heaving tits. As the tempo of her hands slowed and her touch became more tender, she whispered softly, “Thank you, Nicky, sweet boy. When you do that I almost cum myself!” Then she scooped my mess from her breasts and licked it languorously from her fingers ’til they were clean.
We ordered dinner in the suite that night from the restaurant downstairs. The remainder of the time was spent in her bedroom, where I truly learned to appreciate a mature woman. When the sun came up, streaming through the tall bedroom window, Maureen rose to shower. When she came back she chirped, “Smile for the camera!” and clicked off a couple of shots of me lying naked on the bed.
“Scrapbook pictures to show to your bridge club?” I asked, sarcastically.
“No, you darling little shit! These are for my eyes alone! The morning back light is lovely in here. Now let me arrange you a bit more to my liking!” With that, she walked to the bed, ruffled the sheets around my ankles, and – Gawd, again! – slipped my flaccid dick into her mouth, bathing it with a copious amount of saliva, and laid it on my left thigh. It pulsed a few times and began to rise, prompting her to snap the camera shutter again.
“You want me hard?” I asked, now into her game.
“Would you do that for me?” she asked, presumably innocently, as I started slowly to wank myself to a respectable hard-on.
Finally she said, “Perfect!” taking two more shots of me erect before she set the camera aside and joined me on the bed. “Breakfast can wait!” she said, leaning down and giving me a kiss before straddling me. Her practiced hand seated me once again in her pussy, which always seemed to be wet, and she whispered a question in my ear, one that it appeared she was rather ashamed to ask aloud: “Nicky…have you ever had anal sex?”
* * * * * *
Three days later – more like three weeks of exhaustive fucking with Maureen – I arrived in Grenoble and ended up at Lindy’s door. She wasn’t there. Her roommate, Carolyn, was, however, whom I hadn’t seen in three years or more…when she’d been in high school. “Lindy’s on a field trip to Colmar, looking at church art ‘n’ stuff. She won’t be back ’til tomorrow,” said the breathtakingly shapely young woman. “Please come in, though. We’ve been expecting you,” she said, fluttering like a bird and seating herself nervously on a double bed that served as a second couch in their living room.
I dropped my pack and set my guitar and straw-covered wine jug in a corner, then collapsed on the sofa. I’d become quite comfortable with my informal image by this time, and didn’t hesitate to press the point, especially since I knew this nymphet’s agenda. “Enjoying France?” I asked, ingenuously.
“Oh, Gawd, yes! I’m fluent, you know, and my grandmother was born here!”
“Didn’t know that,” I admitted. I’d first met this girl back home when she was a cute, shapely, though as yet underdeveloped, ballerina. Now, looking at her made my throat constrict because of her figure. Her curves made me drool, and I suspected that she knew what she was doing to me, the little wench. “Guess I’d better find a room, since Lindy’s gone, then catch a train,” I ventured.
“Oh, no…please stay here! There’s an extra bed…this one,” she said, smoothing out the wrinkles in its spread with a tan, blemishless arm and long, dainty fingers. “We’re having a party tomorrow night and all our friends from home wanta see you, ‘n’ talk about Berlin ‘n’ stuff.”
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna have some wine. Want some?” I’d filled my Imperial gallon jug at a wine store on the way from the train station.
“Sure!” she bubbled. “I’ve got some baguettes and some ham and pate! We can eat and…”.
Of all the women I’d seen since arriving in Europe, Carolyn was one of the most delectable: Five-feet-seven, with a 34C-22-34 body, all dreamy musculature that would make gym-worshipping women of four decades later hate her. This day she was dressed in a thin cotton, yellow sleeveless shirt-dress that scooped low across her breasts and down her back. It was so thin and skin-tight, in fact, that her braless nipples and aureoles showed brown through the material, as did the dark brown hair of her muff. The dress went to her ankles, though on each side it was slit to mid-thigh, showing the tight, muscular results of many years of ballet training in her legs. She caught me looking at her body more than once, and innocently responded with hazel-eyed stares that matched her dark-brown, pixie cut hair. “You’ve changed since I saw you three years ago,” I said, idiotically stating the obvious and at the same time causing her to preen like a peacock.
“Yeah…” she said tentatively. “So have you. You’re a lot huskier than I remember when I used to dream about you in high school.” She wrinkled her little button nose and licked her full pink lips, shaped like an archer’s bow.
I snorted at her comment and wondered if she was going to bring up sex immediately. “So what have you learned in the two weeks you’ve been here?” I asked.
“How to relax my body more. I mean, the intellectual stimulation is great, too, but I think – more than anything – this year I’ll become more accepting of my body, about sex…”.
I gave her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate.
“Do you masturbate?” she asked suddenly. “You probably don’t…I mean, a guy traveling through Europe. I’ll bet you have all kinds of women. My Gawd, you and Lindy have already done it, which means, well, you know…! Anyway, I get myself off all the time! Tell you what. Have a glass of wine, sit back an’ relax, and lemme do some dance exercises for you.”
“All right, entertain me,” I said arrogantly. I poured a tumbler of wine and slouched down on the sofa, my neck resting against the back. With Lindy not returning ’til the next day this was a perfect time to wile away some hours, plus, since Lindy had won their bet, technically, I could nail Carolyn. Now was also an opportunity to observe the sexy girl engage in “accepting her body”…whatever that meant.
Carolyn switched on a small lamp, put on a recording of slow, dreamy music, and began doing turns around the room, stretching her yellow dress tantalizingly with each movement of her legs. When she’d finished two complete circles she scissor-kicked one leg up next to her face, holding it there as she pirouetted, then repeated the movement with the other leg, turning on one toe as she did so. Naturally her dress rose nearly to her waist as she twirled, affording me close-up views of her crotch and succulent, pink labia. Two more circles around the room and she flopped down on the double bed where she’d been sitting earlier.
“Very impressive,” I murmured. “You’re amazingly limber.” I, on the other hand, was amazingly rigid. She’d accomplished what she’d wanted…to turn me on. My cock threatened to burst through the front of my pants. She gave me a distant smile and huddled on her knees with calves tucked under her, and slowly curled over to lay her shoulders on the bed with her face toward me. Then she extended one leg backward, bending it upward toward her back, and grabbed the ankle with one hand. She did the same with the opposite leg, then both again. The movements, of course, worked her dress up to her waist and – with each upward arc – displayed her magnificent ass. The sun shining through the window behind her made her luscious, tan body glow, so much that my breath caught in my throat.
“This is my favorite,” she puffed, “so good for the back. Do you like it?” she asked absurdly, her hazel eyes round and innocent.
I grunted approvingly, as my groin pulsed from its load of blood.
“Mmmm…good,” she purred, not sounding at all like a slut. “An’ now…”. She flipped onto her back, with her dress still at her waist. Thrusting one leg into the air, she stroked it from calf to crotch with little, feather-like movements of her fingers. As her fingers brushed her labia she exhaled quickly and her hips spasmed. She did the same with the other leg, looking at me through lidded eyes the whole while. Then she turned toward me on her side, laying one bent leg on the bed and extending the other knee vertically to splay open her pussy. She licked her right hand and put it to work immediately, fluttering two fingertips across her clit in a practiced move. With her left she reached out to me and whispered, “Come…please…come…help…me.”
I’d already taken off my boots and socks and had peeled off my shirt as I approached the bed. My pants and briefs went next and I stepped out of them, baring my erect cock to her eyes. I slid my hand to and fro on it, causing her to moan loudly and speed her masturbation. Then I knelt and migrated down to her vulva to watch the fundamentals of her method. Maureen had taught me that each woman is unique in her appreciation of tactile details, including the art of lingual love. “I’m gonna eat you, Carolyn,” I uttered, my voice thick with lust. “Then I wanta fuck you…all night…”.
“Would you?” she asked, girlishly, at the same time going through contortions to strip her dress off her upper torso.
Oh, yeah, I told myself. This will be sweet. She was reclining with the evening light behind her, and I was faced with what approximated female physical perfection. Square shoulders, tightly muscled arms, high, full breasts with tan upturned nipples, a taut stomach, and dancers’ – or breeders’ – hips atop flawless, toned legs. And, what the hell! She was also fluent in French!
I knelt beside her, her eyes riveted to my tumescent cock. She looked intimidated, made a whimpering sound in her throat, and scooted backward on the bed with her legs apart, revealing her appetizing, pink pussy. She’d groomed herself free of hair around her slit, probably for ballet costumes, I figured, and she looked almost virginal. Though she’d been masturbating, there was only a single petal of her inner labia peaking out of an otherwise deep, moist gash. Her organ looked for all the world like a ripe, juicy peach, waiting to be split open and devoured. I wasted no time in tasting its sweetness.
Sliding next to her on the bed, I wrapped my arms around her thighs and bore with relish into her oozing – incredibly tight – vagina, at the same time pushing my turgid cock toward her face. For half a minute she mewled like a spoiled child as I sucked at her opening, swallowing a steady trickle of her juices. She pulled nervously at my member, almost as if she didn’t know how to treat it, then began moaning as I felt her hot mouth engulf my knob. I then moved my head back slightly to flick at her clit, which drove her wild. She began thrusting her mound at my face, grunting “Nnngghh! Nnngghh! Nnngghh!” and I rolled onto my back, better able to control her manic thrashing. With her knees straddling my head, her cunt absorbed long, smooth strokes from my tongue, culminating with her clit rubbing against my chin on each tremulous push. I looked up at her gorgeous muscular ass and it quivered involuntarily as she drove herself to an orgasm on my face, all the while she was engulfing my prick with long, slobbering pulls from her mouth, almost to the point of gagging.
“Nick!” she cried, pulling off my cock. “I’m gonna pee!” she wailed, “No…I’m gonna…ohhhh, Gawwwd! It’s…aaaannnngghh! Aaaannhh! Aaaannhh!” she screamed, as a flood of thin juice – not urine – ejaculated onto my face. She banged her pubic bone so hard against my chin I thought I’d come away with bruises, but I held on gamely. I knew it would be sweet, and it was only the beginning. Before Carolyn had a chance to relax I raised her, panting and groaning, and spun her around to straddle my hips. She collapsed onto my chest, ooo-ing and aah-ing, then began kissing me in apparent gratitude, and licking her effusions off of my face. “My Gawwd, I’ve never cum like that before!” she said as I reached between us to pierce the outer lips of her soaking pussy with my hungry probe.
“Take as much as you want,” I muttered. I’d learned with other women that my bigger-than-average size might cause her discomfort, especially given her apparent lack of experience. “We have all night,” I soothed, knowing that securing her trust would pay off in spades.
“You’re so sweet, Nick!” she said, looking me in the eyes as she proffered first one pendulous breast, then the other, to my lips to suckle. Her pulpy, half-inch nipples were salty with her perspiration, and mixed beautifully with the fecund smell of her juice on my face. My hands were full of her taut flesh. I closed my eyes and remembered a recent experience with a younger sister of Anna’s, in Norway, whose inexperienced teen body had had a similar taut feel to the one I was currently worshipping. I wondered how Carolyn’s body could possibly improve as she reached full adulthood. But my mental wanderings ceased as she took my cock from my hand. “Gawd, you are big! I couldn’t get all of you in my mouth! But just wait! I’ve got a dancer’s mouth – mmmm, right…down…here – that could swallow you if you were Dumbo!” She said this as she seated my knob just inside her moist center.
I smiled privately and marveled at 20th Century popular culture. Who could imagine a French Lit major who speaks the language fluently linking a Disney character to a quasi-pornographic fantasy? Then I realized that I was thinking too much. “Dumbo?” I asked with a snicker.
“Yeah. Feel how I’m taking you in…kinda kissing you as I…ahh, shit…as we come together?”
I did, indeed. I’d never before been with a dancer, and this was new. Short, slow, little drops of Carolyn’s hips took more of me each time, and her slow, trembling withdrawals were agonizing. It was as if my cock were being squeezed rapidly by a thousand hot microscopic fingers, all lubricated with some heavenly balm. I showed my appreciation by running my hands all over her tight flesh. Her breasts, tummy, waist, hips, thighs, even the wetness of her elastic labia as they gripped my cock, were a delight to me as she increased the height and speed of her thrusts. “I could eat you alive!” I whispered, as I began flicking my hips upward each time her pussy met my pelvis.
“Ooh, yeah. I’m stretching to fit you. You’re right at…you feel that?” she asked, beaming as she wiggled her saddle down around me. “Hold still! You’re at my cervix! Lemme relax an’… take… you…in!” she said with closed eyes, her face knit in concentration. Deep within her I felt her cervical ring stretch around my corona and palpitate with her heartbeat. Then she ground further onto me, completely absorbing my length, issuing a deep, satisfied sigh. “I’ve thought about this since I was in high school…wanting to feel you shoot your cream into me…into my womb. I’ve been crazy about you for the longest time!” she gushed. I encircled her small, firm waist almost completely with both hands, pulling and pushing her hips slightly so my crown would move in her uterus. She gritted her teeth and shook her head rapidly, gasping a breathy whine, and I moved one thumb downward to softly brush her clit, which was red and peeking out from under its swollen hood. “Ohhh…Gawwwd…Nick…yes! Oh, yes! Right…there!” she bleated, throwing back her head in ecstasy. Her hands flew to her breasts and she kneaded their sumptuous flesh roughly, tweaking – almost clawing – at her erect, stone-hard nipples as her excitement mounted.
“You gonna cum?” I asked, almost too coolly since I knew full well she was a hair’s breadth away from a climax.
“Ohhh…ohhh…ohhh…Nic…I…I’m…so…”, she mewled, and sped up her grinding motions on my embedded prick. Finally she was there and I removed my thumb from her clit. She responded by collapsing onto my chest and taking a hundred full, rapid strokes onto me, from tip to balls, and milking my probe as if it were feeding her life blood. She screamed through her orgasm for what must have been a full minute into my mouth, muffling her wild cries. I held her perfect dancer’s body tightly and fucked up into her until she lapsed into moans, then…silence. Minutes went by as our breathing returned to normal. “Jeezus Kuh-rist, Nicky! You’re amazing in bed!” she groaned, nearly slipping off me because of our mingled sweat. “But you didn’t cu-u-um,” she lamented, making the word sound like it had three syllables.
“And I won’t for a while,” I responded as I flipped us over. “For that, I want to be on top.” Kneeling, I started to move both of her ankles upward to spread her completely open.
“Wait, please, Nicky. Could you pull out?” I did so, puzzled. “I want to taste myself on you first,” she said, rising and licking her juice off my pubic hair, cock and balls and swallowing it. “It’s so sexy to taste a woman’s juices off a man,” she said, her hazel eyes sparkling up at me. I thought nothing of her assertion. I wanted only to be back inside her, which took about five seconds.
“Nnngh, yeah, baby,” I grunted, “it’s good this way,” as I set up an easy rhythm while resting on my elbows. She was right with me, grinning ecstatically, and mewling “mmmmm” as she pulled me to her kissing mouth, alive with her pungent wet tongue. After a minute or so she placed one firm hand on each of my buttocks, pressing down on them each time I drilled between her upraised thighs. We fucked that way for a long time, muttering meaningless sounds of pleasure to one another as our organs once again worked toward a climactic peak.
I then remembered Carolyn’s clitoral – or at least masturbatory – fixation. I slowed and brought her legs down to the bed and, still embedded in her, clamped my thighs on the outside of hers so that the top of my cock would abrade her little love button. After thirty seconds of such stimulation she began clawing at my back and crying my name. Finally she screamed, “Hold still!” and hammered up and down at me until she froze in a monumental orgasm, once again screaming my name over and over. When she was finished she begged, “Cum, please cum,” her beautiful eyes pleading with me.
And so I did. I pulled from her still-palpitating vagina and knee-walked up to her face, holding the base of my prick in a tight grip so as not to ejaculate too soon, laid the dark red crown on her lower lip that was curled outward to accept me, and relaxed my hand while growling like an 800 pound gorilla. She’d raised her head and opened her luscious lips widely, so the target was perfect. Jet after jet of cum shot into her mouth, all of which she accepted with a joyous hum in her throat. Halfway through my ejaculation her hands were stroking me from balls forward, pumping the remainder of my semen into her gullet to be swallowed, and only a thin freshet of seed appeared on her bow-like upper lip when I was spent. As I collapsed back onto the bed, groaning, I thanked the gods for bringing me to Grenoble. Moreover, I thanked them for having Lindy out of town on this day, just before Carolyn and I dozed off for a nap, locked in one another’s arms.
It must have been around midnight when we awoke, jarred out of a sound sleep by the door opening and the overhead light being switched on. For some reason I wasn’t at all surprised to see Lindy standing in the doorway, immobile at the sight of us.
“Lindy! I thought you weren’t coming back ’til tomorrow!” cried Carolyn.
“That’s rather obvious, Care! Couldn’t wait, could you? You slut!”
“Aww, Lindy, that’s pretty strong language,” I mumbled.
“Bullshit, Nick! I knew her in high school! Every minute that she’s out of class now she’s back here, masturbating with that dildo of hers! Now she’s screwed you, and she knows how special you are to me!” she whined, on the brink of tears.
“It’s my fault!” I said, getting up and pulling Carolyn along with me to comfort the girl, who’d started weeping. We both hugged her closely in a three person embrace. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. We just kinda lost control…”.
“Yeah…well, you both stink…like you’ve been fucking all day!” she said, snorting disgustedly as the tears gradually waned, “and, Care…you have dried cum on your mouth.”
Anxious to defuse the situation, I said, “Carolyn, why don’t you take a quick shower. I’ll put out some eats, then I’ll clean up. Lindy looks tired and hungry.”
Still naked and smelly, I stood in the kitchen cutting up a baguette. Lindy leaned over the table on her elbows and asked, hesitatingly, “Was she good? Was my roommate good?” It’s almost as if the words came from her mother’s mouth. I could imagine Maureen asking in reference to her daughter if I’d found her pleasing. These thoughts made me uneasy, since the recent days with Maureen had filled an empty emotional chasm in me. I looked over at Lindy, who by that time was regarding my drooping cock with more than casual interest, and her face seemed to merge with that of her mother in my imagination. A spasm of excitement occurred in my groin and gouts of blood immediately followed it.
“Lindy, honey, it’s all good. You know that,” I said quietly, hoping to forestall further such questions as we both sat at the table and began to nibble on bread and pate.
“Uh-huh. Well, I forget that you’re a young guy in Europe but…I’ve waited for you…and worried about you for weeks. One little taste of you in Paris wasn’t enough. How long can you stay with us?”
“Until you see your mom off, I guess; maybe through the weekend.” I finished my response just as Carolyn emerged from the bathroom, clean and smelling fresh as a baby, in one of her thin cotton, long tee shirt-type dresses. She laid her hand possessively on my bare shoulder, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lindy. “I understand there’s a party tomorrow night,” I said to them both.
“Yeah…with all the usual suspects…but right now I don’t even want to think about it. I’m so tired!” Lindy grinned wanly, filling her wineglass to the brim and making a large sandwich for herself. She got up and pronounced, “I’m going to bed now…in the other room. You can do what you want. If you join me, Nick, whatever you do, don’t shower! I love the way you stink…you animal.” Then she was gone. I was shocked at these words coming from an 18-year-old. Though I wasn’t at all surprised that they’d come from one of Maureen’s daughters.
A few quiet assurances with Carolyn settled matters. She’d sleep on the living room bed. I kissed her and she breathlessly promised great things in the next few days, as I doused the lights and made for Lindy’s bedroom.
She’d finished her sandwich, and half a glass of wine, and was leaning against the headboard, completely nude. She’d undone her ponytail so that her blonde hair caressed her shoulders, and was perched, relaxed, with one leg bent up at the knee. A single candle lit the room dimly and bathed her fair skin in a golden hue. Her firm breasts called out to be suckled, and my tongue seemed to grow hard as I contemplated savoring her sweet feminine tastes. Somewhere deep in my emotional memory I felt the ungovernable pangs of being with her mother…of wanting to be with her again. These impulses were telegraphed immediately to my groin, causing my cock to rise. “Need some company?” I asked, nonchalantly.
“Get in here, you big stud!” she growled, comically, and flopped down onto her back, extending her arms to me. Our bodies met with hurried, youthful, abandon, yet we intertwined like graceful, mating dolphins. She whimpered as my hands kneaded gently at her flesh, and I groaned with a certain longing, imagining her firm body to be that of her mother, which it resembled so much. She held my head and rained kisses all over my face as she wrapped her legs around my waist, straining to capture my penis within her. “Gawd, I’ve forgotten how good you feel! Jeezus, Nick, don’t tease me! I need you now! Yessss…aaaanngh!” she almost yelled as I guided my probe to her drooling pussy, then, “Oohhhhhhhhh! Oohhhhhhhh!” she moaned, as I slipped to my balls into her marvelous hot gash.
I stirred into Lindy slowly, trying to stretch every muscle inside, and she seemed grateful. She’d drawn her legs vertically to first admit me, then pulled on the back of her knees to allow deeper penetration. As her vagina yielded to me and our movements grew faster in tempo, I placed her lovely calves over my shoulders and sped my fucking. “Good?” I asked breathlessly, “Is it good?” and hurried my plunges even more to her senseless mewling cries. Finally, I slipped her legs off my shoulders and she bent them backward so that her knees rested on the mattress, with her ankles in the air on either side of her head. Her luscious pink pussy now pointed upward to the ceiling, and I adjusted my body so that my rampant cock drove directly downward into her cunt, which now was making liquid farting noises each time my balls hit her opening. Those squishy noises were matched by a buzzing sound in my ears that seemed to permeate the apartment. In addition to that, Lindy’s passionate cries seemed to be echoing from the living room, until I realized that those noises were being voiced by Carolyn.
But Lindy was much louder. “Ohh…Gawd…Nicky…yessss. You’re such a…good fuck! Don’t stop now…please. Hard, yeah…fast, yeeaahhh…oh, yeeaaahhhh…oh, Nicky, I’m…gonna…Nicky!…Nicky!…I’m…oh, Nicholas! Fu…!” at which point Lindy started a series of galvanic, eruptive seizures. With a minimum of noise and movement, I finally let go and sprayed her insides with a huge load, grasping her in an embrace until she quieted down, at least to the point where we were both only hyperventilating. As we slipped into an afterglow, my cock was still hard inside her and pulsating, though I hardly noticed it. What I did notice in the dusky light was Carolyn, leaning against the open doorframe, absently licking what looked like a white, plastic dildo.
“You two are something to watch,” she said, as my dick slowly slipped out of Lindy.
“And you’re a pervert,” muttered Lindy, still out of breath. “But that’s okay, Care. You’ve always been a freak. The invitation’s a little late, but c’mere an’ share my favorite hometown guy,” she offered, rather generously, as if I had nothing to say about it.
Carolyn was there in a second, her lips wrapped around my softening cock. After she’d bathed my groin completely with her tongue she looked at both Lindy and me, then quickly explained, “I love the taste of a woman on a man.” What she’d told me two hours before hadn’t changed.
“Mmmm…too weird,” muttered Lindy, who’d sprawled onto her stomach drowsily. I lay down next to her and stroked her silken back and butt lovingly, causing her to moan. Without asking, Carolyn snuggled closely behind me, her moist pubic bush rubbing my buttocks. Laying on my back, I smiled to myself as the candle flickered out, wondering if I were the only guy in France that night with the hands of two 18-year-old American beauties holding his cock.
It hardly mattered, since I’d awakened and responded before daylight to the feel of Lindy’s butt nestling closer to my rising prick. With both of us half asleep I slipped between her legs from behind and slid easily through to split her puffy labia, still drooling my cum, which had taken on a decidedly fishy odor. In the darkness I felt her hand trying to position me at the entrance to her vagina. “Turn over, baby,” I whispered, “I wanna watch us come together.” She moaned into her pillow at the prurience of my remark, and wiggled her butt at me as she flipped over. I pulled her to the foot of the bed, so that I could stand on the floor and lift her up by her hips to meet my stiff dong. When I slipped into her buttery pussy, both she and Carolyn emitted a sharp whine, since her roommate, clearly awake beside us, had put her dildo to use between her widespread legs. I looked over at her and said, “Gimme some pillows and turn it on.”
Carolyn was way ahead of me. She tossed three pillows to me and rose to her hands and knees, switching on the device, with one hand manipulating it obscenely into her cunt. With the other hand she braced herself, moving her head over Lindy’s vulva, not three inches away from where I was tapping her. “Oooh, Gawd, Nicky, I love this!” she cooed. “You’re so dirty! An’ you, Lindy, Jeezus…you smell like you’ve been at it all night!”
I slid the pillows under Lindy’s butt, which was now at a perfect height for me to drill her while I stood. Then it was tease time. As Lindy moaned and her roommate panted, I withdrew, laying my cock in the girl’s labial furrow, shiny with her juices, and moved it fore and back across her clit. “Taste her, Care,” I encouraged, my swollen member dripping with feminine nectar. And of course she did, jamming her mouth onto me even as Lindy’s hips still jerked upward – crying out in frustration – in anticipation of more repeated thrusts. “Back in now, Care,” I whispered, and Carolyn groaned disappointedly as she reinserted me into her roommate’s pussy. “Now lick the top of me, Care,” I grunted, as Lindy produced even more vaginal syrup.
Carolyn needed no coaching. Her mouth and flicking tongue were by now laving my dick as it entered her roommate, and Lindy was yelping like a baby seal as I thrust deeply and Care’s tongue lapped at her clit. As we humped away, the dildo that Carolyn had been using fell harmlessly to the bedspread, buzzing away like some persistent, irritating insect at a picnic. “Ooohhhh, Gawwwd, Care,” Lindy moaned, sounding ashamed at the pleasure she was receiving. “Nooo, it’s not…ooohhh, Gawd…Care…” she repeated, reaching down to the back of Carolyn’s head to encourage more cunnilingus, which she urged by spreading her lovely knees back to her armpits.
I reached down in mid-stroke, picked up the vibrating dildo, and turned it off. Lindy watched me, then reached for the instrument, which I handed her. She looked to her left, where Carolyn’s butt was elevated as she leaned forward to lick at where her roommate and I were joined, then slowly inserted it into her roommate’s pussy. She looked up at me through glazed eyes as she switched it on, causing a surprised mewl from Carolyn, then began fucking her with it, as if to show me that she wasn’t going to be left out of our wanton threesome. “Ooooh, Lindyyyy, that feels so goood!” cooed her friend, “An’ you tas’ so good on Nicky’s cock!”
But I wanted more. More sex, more of their young flesh, more of their willingness to share dirty bedroom tricks with me. I pulled slowly out of Lindy and let Carolyn clean her juices from my cock, then walked around to Lindy’s side as Carolyn completely covered her roommate’s gaping pussy with her mouth. With minimum effort I moved Carolyn’s knees to straddle Lindy’s head in the “69” position, then lined myself up behind them. Pulling the dildo out of Carolyn and switching it off, I quickly sank myself deeply into her tight vagina. “Lick us, Lindy!” I said hoarsely. “Lick us like Care was doing before!”
Soon we were just a pile of flesh undulating at one another’s touches. Lindy’s quick little tongue lapped at my balls and the underside of my cock until I almost came inside Carolyn, causing me to withdraw and pinch my cock to forestall orgasm. But she seized the opportunity to stretch her neck back and take me into her mouth, vacuuming me until she gagged, at which point I once again re-entered her roommate’s clasping pussy. We repeated this cycle a half-dozen times until Carolyn grabbed her dildo and slipped it into Lindy’s cunt, which set all of us off.
Lindy was the first to cum, climaxing from Care’s tonguing and dildo-ing, as she screamed into my scrotum. I pulled out of Carolyn and began fucking Lindy’s mouth, which soon emitted nothing but wet, slobbery gurgles. Carolyn followed suit, writhing serpentine-like through her orgasm as I’d reached under her to diddle her clit. And finally, I bellowed like a bison while blowing my entire load onto Care’s pussy and Lindy’s open, grinning mouth. All three of us shuddered for a couple of minutes, then untangled ourselves as the first rays of the morning sun lit up the sweaty, cum-soaked carnage of the double bed.
I looked at Lindy and her lovely face was covered with my thick seed and Carolyn’s discharge. Carolyn was sweating as if she’d been through a strenuous, marathon ballet. I felt dehydrated, leached of all vital fluids, and smelled as if I’d taken on a dozen unwashed whores from Tangiers. Nevertheless, I so wished that each and every morning could begin this way.
After a short nap and a shower I walked to a nearby patisserie for some croissantsfor breakfast with the girls. It felt good to be out by myself, briefly free from the clutches of the two horny young women. For a brief moment I thought of the upcoming week. Perhaps I’d catch a train to Italy early – maybe tomorrow – knowing that I’d be antsy after Lindy’s party that was planned for the coming evening.
Back at the apartment Lindy was on the phone with her mother. When I walked in she said, “Nick’s back! I’ll put him on!” handing me the phone while grabbing my crotch. “It’s Mom. She wants to come see us.”
Maureen was brusque and direct over the phone. “Nick, I’ve decided to stay a bit longer. I’ve turned in my boat ticket, and may catch a ship or plane out of Rome or Lisbon. I’ve got an early train out of Paris tomorrow morning and have reserved a suite at the Hotel de Ville in Grenoble. I want you to move your stuff from Lindy’s to the youth hostel in town, but I want you to stay with me. I know Lindy may be listening, so, if you agree, just say yes.”
“Uhhh…yes,” I said, grudgingly. “There’s a party here tonight, you know.” As I said this, Lindy knelt in front of me, unzipped my fly and pulled out my flaccid dick, licking at it teasingly.
“Lindy’s told me. But don’t enjoy yourself too much, darling. You’ll need all the energy you can muster when you see me,” she said, with a hint of humor in her voice.
“I’ve gotta stay at the youth hostel,” I told the girls when I hung up, after Lindy had brought me to a mind-bending orgasm as Carolyn watched, masturbating across the room.
“No!” they both said, almost simultaneously, while Lindy wiped my cum off her chin.
“Your mother’s coming! Tonight’s the last night! I’ve gotta take off for Italy, anyway,” I said, inwardly sorry that I was deceiving both of them. But, the afternoon turned out to be fun, shopping for food goodies at the local markets while the two young ladies held onto my shirttail.
So the girls had their party. Lindy’s friends seemed awfully young. I listened to their tales of hearing their first High Mass at the cathedral at Chartres…to others who’d wept at allied cemeteries from two World Wars…to still others who’d learned details of the horrors of the Inquisition in Spain and Nazi atrocities. Though my tales of Berlin seemed pale by comparison, I appeared a well-traveled senior to them, and they hung on my every word.
Darkness brought on music and dancing. Lindy’s claim of me was periodically violated by the scrumptious Carolyn, who got drunk halfway through the evening and finally ended up dancing with Lindy and me, circling slowly in the center of the room with her crotch glued to my left thigh and Lindy’s pressed to my right. Carolyn spoke French all night – why I don’t know – and made no secret of the threesome that we’d had the previous night. This night she’d worn another tight, thin dress that highlighted the dreamy collection of muscular curves that she seemed to have bequeathed to me in front of her French and American friends.
I was just beginning to appreciate the stand-up threesome we were having when Lindy whispered to me, “Let’s go to the bedroom,” separating us from the complaining Carolyn who staggered off to collapse on the double bed in the living room. We tried the bedroom door but it was locked. “Shit!” cursed Lindy. “Already in use. But that’s okay,” she said after a moment, “c’mon,” and pulled me by the hand back into the living room and into a long, L-shaped closet. She locked the door from the inside and put the key in my pocket as she undid my belt and pulled down my pants and underwear. The dim light from a vent window at the back of the closet made her smiling face visible enough as she held my stiffening pole in both hands as if it were a rare gift. “Care’s out of it tonight, Nick. But I’m not gonna let you go as easily! Before Mom gets here, I need a coupla more tastes!” she said.
“In a closet?” I asked, simultaneously amused and confused.
“The bedroom’ll be free soon. I just can’t wait,” she said as she slipped her warm, moist lips over my prick. I groaned, raised my head heavenward and thought, Jeezus, the women in this family love cock! I was only partially correct. The women in Lindy’s family loved sex in many forms, and obviously selected their men as tools of pleasure. I could hardly object, since over the past months I’d come to see women as mere toys for my own sexual exploits. Besides, I hadn’t yet had a blow job in a musty French closet, so I acquiesced to being used as an implement for Lindy to practice on while developing her rapidly-improving oral talents.
The bedroom was eventually free, and Carolyn joined us in bed in the early morning, very hung over. She hadn’t gotten laid after the party, being passed out, and during the night it had been good to have Lindy alone, away from her roommate, since the latter had been merely a tasty distraction for me. And even though I could see that the two girls’ brief foray into bisexuality the previous night might benefit me in the short run, I was restless and impatient, piqued by Maureen’s visit just hours away.
I checked into the local youth hostel, stashing my pack and other belongings in a locker, showered, and set out to see the picturesque university town, with a plan to join Maureen for dinner with the girls. When I met them in the hotel’s restaurant, she gave me the standard air kiss on each cheek, then I was seated across the table from her, with the girls facing one another on opposing sides. “Well. Tell me all the nasty gossip you kids have stirred up in the past weeks,” she said, looking directly at me.
I shrugged, and the girls started chattering away about their classes and social lives. Both of their hands were busy under the table, groping at my thighs, but at least they didn’t embarrass themselves, or me. Maureen informed us that she would be catching tomorrow’s train – leaving midday Sunday – for Rome. And since the girls would be in classes all week, I suggested that she and I travel together. She’d reserved a single sleeping berth, and I could ride as I always did in a six-person compartment, using my Eurailpass. At the end of dinner she kissed us all and asked that I walk the girls home, saying she’d see me the next day. That was for the benefit of the girls, since she also pinched me on the butt. I took that as an invitation and escorted the young ladies to their place, yet refused to go upstairs to their apartment, knowing that – if I did – I wouldn’t be able to escape their clutches ’til morning. Then I hurried, trotting back to Maureen’s hotel.
I tapped lightly at her door and it opened slowly by itself. She’d not latched it. She was reading a paperback by the light of a single lamp, and rose to meet me as I locked the door. She slipped a bookmark – one of the nude photos she’d taken of me in Paris – into the book and encircled my neck with her arms for a deep, seething kiss. Her silk robe parted after a few seconds and she whimpered in her throat as my hands slid underneath to caress the smooth, hot skin of her breasts, waist and hips. The fingers of one hand traced back to her crack, wandering up it from her pussy to her rectum, causing her to mewl. In front, the other hand cupped her mound and split her labia, coming away with wet thick, odorous nectar. “Oohh…Gawd, I’ve missed your touch,” she moaned into my ear. “I know I’m selfish, taking you from Lindy tonight,” she admitted as she dragged me into the bedroom, “but I couldn’t wait ’til tomorrow.”
I started to undress slowly, and said, “I can’t stay long in Rome. I want to see Florence, Venice and the Amalfi Coast while the weather’s good. And I may want to hit Switzerland again, and Milan.”
Maureen was softly stroking herself and watching me as I spoke, then sputtered, “So, send me a few postcards, Nicky! But right now get your big body over here and let’s taste each other. It’s a long time ’til we eat again and I desperately need some protein!”
We got very little sleep that night, and I had to leave early in the morning so as not to run into Lindy and Carolyn when they arrived for breakfast. As I walked to the hostel to pick up my pack and other stuff, I reflected on how Maureen had changed since I’d met her. Though extremely passionate, she’d been rather tentative at first. But now she was ravenous and tireless. She’d taken an extreme interest in anal sex, including rimming me with her tongue on a regular basis, and was disappointed if she didn’t climax a half-dozen times during lovemaking. Also, she’d begged me to join her in reckless exhibitionism. Just the night before she’d insisted that I take her from behind on the balcony outside her hotel room. She was either frantically making up for lost time, it seemed, or planning to die young, or both.
At the train station I stashed my belongings in a compartment and was talking to Carolyn on the platform through the open window. I was feeling tense since I’d already said my goodbyes to Lindy, who’d cried when we parted. Then Carolyn suggested that I join Maureen in her berth two cars away, where Lindy was chatting with her from the platform. I entered and Maureen looked around and said, “Lock the door.” I did, and she resumed talking with her daughter while leaning on the sill of the open upper window. “Look who’s here!” she said to her daughter, as I stood behind her and waved at them, causing Lindy to dab at her teary eyes again. “Anyway, honey, in that bag I gave you are some paperbacks I’ve read, a few things I picked up for you in Paris, and a roll of French francs. I know you can use those.” As she said this, she reached behind herself, unzipped my fly, and pulled out my cock to stroke it softly. No one was the wiser, of course, since the bottom half of the window was covered by a single curtain that was drawn for privacy. Only Maureen’s head and shoulders, and I from my chest up, were visible from the platform.
I gasped, then groaned, as my prick hardened at her brazen touches, and was amazed that her conversation with the girls remained unchanged in tone. In a moment she reached down and slid out a small, one-foot-wide table under the window that is used for writing or playing cards. She stepped aside slightly and raised one leg to place a knee on the table. She was wearing a cotton, A-line skirt ending at the knee, no panties, and a sleeveless knit jersey top…sensible wear for traveling…and in this case, very convenient for a quick fuck. And that’s what she wanted…for me to perversely nail her while she was talking with her young daughter a few feet below us on the platform. She placed her other foot on the seat to her left, which raised her a bit and enabled me to slip into her to my balls. She was soaking wet and thrust back at me as Lindy was saying something to her, but she didn’t react at all. I must have had a silly look on my face as I was standing very close behind her, but it hardly mattered. The engine sounded its horn and the train jumped, indicating we were almost on our way. Then it started moving and we began blowing kisses to the girls, who soon disappeared as the train pulled slowly away. I pushed up the window to close it, but thirty seconds later we were stopped…next to another train’s second-class car with most of its passenger seats filled. By that time Maureen and I were going at one another like frenzied animals.
“Awwghh…Gawwwd, Nicky, fuck me! Yes! Yes! Oh, yeah!” The passengers in the window seats of the adjacent train were watching Maureen’s contorted, grunting face from two feet away through the closed windows. Then she made it easier for them. She opened the curtain on the lower window! Though they couldn’t see me actually doing her, that is, our parts coming together, they could see me thrusting into her from behind, and that was enough for her. “Yeah! I’m fucking this young man!” she moaned through gritted teeth, “and it’s good! An’ I’m…ohh, Gawd…Ni…Nick…Nicky…I’m gonna, I’m gon-naaa! Baby, I’m gonna cu’…I’m cummmmiiiinnnngggg! Cummmiiiinnngggg!” She gripped the window frame with one hand and with the other pulled up her top to roughly squeeze her breasts and twist her nipples to the shocked looks of our neighboring travelers. The train across from us began moving very slowly, allowing hundreds of nice French people in car after car to observe Maureen’s long, public orgasm, as I hammered at her until she quivered, whimpering and whining into several aftershocks, at which point the train across from us was finally gone.
Though I wasn’t a train sex virgin, I’d never experienced the carnal act with such a large audience. Maureen flopped onto the seat, relaxed, and objected when I went to my compartment to transfer my belongings to hers, wanting instead to give me an immediate blowjob. This trip to Rome would be a first, and so far it promised to be memorable. I’d never traveled in a sleeping car before, much less with a horny woman twice my age who was apparently an exhibitionist. I wondered if there would be any sleep involved at all.
There wasn’t much, either on the train or in Rome. Maureen was insatiable, though at the same time a great companion. After several days and nights of sightseeing, and fucking in public places that would have drawn praise from the lascivious Roman Emperor Caligula, I felt the need – just as I had with Anna in Norway – to set out on my own again.
“I’ve gotta get on the road again, Maureen,” I said.
“Of course you do, baby,” she responded, as we were eating dinner one night in a romantic, open-air trattoria. “I have a flight to New York, available on 24-hour notice, that I can activate with a phone call. Just tell me when.”
“Day after tomorrow would be good. I want to get to Venice, then down to Amalfi, then maybe loop back north to Milan, Assisi and Florence before I head to Naples where I can get work. My money’s getting low and I need to finance the rest of my trip.”
“Do you want me to help, honey? I’ve got plenty of money,” she said, generously.
“Naw, thanks. I’ll manage. I might want to see Lindy again, too, except that’d interrupt her studies.”
She looked at me and her eyes welled up. “You don’t get it, do you, sweet boy. She loves you and, even though I think you’re both too young, I approve of her choice. I’ll pay whatever it takes to bring you two – we three – together. In the Fool’s Paradise that I live in, when we’re back in the States, we could all live together and she and I would smother you with love. I get the feeling when you were growing up you didn’t receive such unconditional support.”
She was right but, realist that I am, I switched gears. “I’m poor relationship material, Maureen. Even now I feel guilty about not dropping Lindy a card. She was in tears at the train station.”
“My baby daughter’s emotional but still a tough customer. She’s spoiled and has a vengeful streak. You should write her. She’ll love it and get back to you when she can. Better yet, call her!”
“I’ll do that,” I said. “In the meantime, you said you had surprise entertainment for tonight.”
“Oh, yes!” she replied, enthusiastically. “There’s a sound and light show at the Coliseum. If we stand up top, near the back, I can suck you off and maybe one of these sexually-repressed Romans will see us.”
It was difficult and sad to leave the incomparable Maureen in Rome, though I promised to see her in the States, many months down the road. I’d never in my life experienced such fantastic sex, and it would be a long time before I did again. I didpromise to pay special attention to her daughter, Lindy, though.
Yet I finally felt free, and dropped postcards as if I were Casanova acting as the Postmaster General! Strangely, I received no responses from Lindy, however, even when I’d established a stable residence in Naples. Through my buddy Bill’s stateside academic contacts I got a job working for the UN Food and Agricultural Organization as a multi-lingual courier. A few months later I was dispatched to Paris and decided to stop in Grenoble and rekindle my contact with Lindy. Regardless of what Maureen had said, something was obviously wrong. This was not how young girls acted who were hot for a guy. I decided to call, just out of curiosity.
“Oh, hi,” I heard through the scratchy connection. “Coming to Grenoble?” she asked.
“Uhh…only if you want me to,” I said, trying to be cool.
“It’d be nice to see you,” she said, rather breezily.
“Good, I’ll be there in a few days.”
“No, Nick. I’ve waited for you for weeks at a time in the past. If you really want to get together, tell me exactly when and I’ll try to be here.”
“O-o-kay,” I stammered, consulting my rail schedule. “Day after tomorrow, the connecting train from Rome arrives at 2:30 p.m.”
“Carolyn’ll be sorry she missed you. She’ll be on a ballet field trip. But that’s all right. We can find something to talk about,” she acknowledged coldly.
Was this the same Lindy? I wondered. She sounded bored, even angry. Those thoughts were with me as I tapped on her door two days later. When I hugged her she was as stiff as a board, granting me just a hint of a smile.
“Oh, good. You brought some wine. Can we open it now?” she asked.
I uncorked the large bottle and we sat, drinking, with me on the sofa, she in a plush easy chair with padded arms that faced it. Her legs were tucked beneath her. She was ravishing. She wore a black, sleeveless top and a short gray skirt that stopped above her knees. Her tiny feet were shoeless. My groin pulsed a couple of times as I wondered if she were wearing panties. “You look good,” I murmured.
“Thanks, so do you,” she said, distractedly. “Ummm, I need to make a call. Would you excuse me for a minute?”
Her French had improved. She spoke in the language with someone about having difficulty with the theory behind a couple of paintings, then agreed with whomever she was speaking with, saying she’d see the person soon. She then went into the bedroom for a minute. Coming out, she brought a little box, extracting a small pipe and some pale green chunks of something from it.
“That looks like hashish,” I said. I’d had some in Berlin.
“You’re right, Nicky!” she responded, her green eyes flashing. “What’s this look like?” she asked, flipping a photograph at me that landed in my lap. It was of me, nude, with an impressive erection, grinning at the camera; one of several that Maureen had taken of me months before in Paris. I was speechless as Lindy explained its source. “My lovely mother always uses pictures as bookmarks. That one was in a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Appropriate, dontcha’ think?” She lit her hash pipe. “Want some?”
“Yeah…please,” I gasped, anxious to relieve some of the pressure I felt. If I’d been on top of the situation I would’ve said: “Well, at least it wasn’t Catch 22.” But the drug hit me immediately and I thankfully submitted to its sensuous tendrils enveloping my mind.
“I could have killed you,” I heard her say, “taking advantage of my lonely mom the way you did.”
I started to object but we were interrupted by a knock at the door. Lindy rose and opened it, admitting a tall, thin black man whom she introduced as Jean-Pierre. I poured him a glass of wine and he sat in the easy chair, with Lindy sitting beside me. “I’m currently living in Napoli,” I told him, in French.
“Jean-Pierre is one of my teaching assistants…from Niger. He’s a whiz at African art and today our schedules are finally free enough to talk a little. Hope you don’t mind,” said Lindy.
“Not at all,” I mumbled, lighting the hash pipe and holding it toward Jean-Pierre. He declined, yet rose to refill his wineglass, which Lindy replenished. Before he had a chance to turn, she grabbed his free hand and from her sitting position looked up at him. He didn’t seem to understand and appeared embarrassed. He sipped from his glass and tried to disengage, only to be stopped again by Lindy, this time with her other hand on his crotch. He looked down at her again, unable to believe her forwardness, then shot a quick glance at me, just as the young blonde girl lowered the zipper on his pants.
She said to me in English. “You hurt me deeply, Nick. Now I’m gonna pay you back.” And with that she pulled his impressive cock free of his fly and took the wineglass from his hand, setting it on a side table. Within seconds she’d rolled back his foreskin and wrapped her lovely pink lips around his hardening member, establishing a slow, easy rhythm as she gradually consumed more and more of him. Jean-Pierre submitted easily to the wet confines of Lindy’s heated mouth, raising his face skyward and issuing a deep whine as the girl sped her movements. Soon one of her hands was twisting around his shaft in a corkscrew motion, masturbating his full length while, alternately, she took him past her epiglottis and into her throat. I looked at her other hand, and it was busy between her creamy thighs, diddling herself with ever-more-rapid movements.
Content with my voyeuristic role, I smoked more hash and sipped wine…enough so that I was truly blitzed by the time Lindy unbuckled Jean-Pierre’s pants and they’d fallen to the floor. In seconds she’d stripped herself naked and pushed the man into a seated position in the chair in which he’d been sitting. She’d lost a good bit of her Summer tan, and now looked completely ivory…delectable as ever. As she straddled his legs and reached between her thighs to seat his black cudgel at the entrance to her pink, rose-like pussy, she looked over her shoulder at me as if to check on the state of what she hoped would be my suffering.
I just grinned and said, “You’re beautiful!” no doubt causing her some degree of angry confusion. After all, my response was supposed to be that of a jealous lover.
“Wrong thing to say, Nicky. Watch this!” she challenged, as she slid slowly down Jean-Pierre’s pole, gasping while taking all of him. “Ohh-o-o-o, Gawd,” she moaned as her hips began a rapidly-accelerating tattoo against the crotch of her African instructor. She grabbed the back of the chair on either side of his head for leverage, prompting him to try and kiss her, but she turned her head aside, muttering, “Non!” apparently intent only on fucking him. Then she turned her attention again to me. “See how I’m lovin’ that big black dick, Nicky. You could be havin’ me just like that – right now – if you’d left my mom alone!”
I was ripped to the eyes on hashish by this time, and was enjoying Lindy’s show, with my own cock uncomfortably stiff down one of my pant legs. Not only was she taking full strokes on and off Jean-Pierre, but she was also twirling her hips in a flat circle that must have driven him crazy, as her inner labia stretched out to grasp at his shiny cock, coated now with her thick, creamy, vaginal residue. Once again I muttered, “You’re beautiful!” causing her to fuck him even harder.
“No, goddammit!” she yelled, her hips a blur she was screwing so fast, then she whined, “Shit! I can’t cum! Jean-Pierre, levez!” she cried, and climbed off of him. He stood and she plopped her splayed knees onto the chair’s cushion and grabbed its back, wordlessly begging him to drill her like a dog. He quickly shed his shirt, kicked off his sandals, stepped out of his trousers, and palmed Lindy’s gorgeous white ass in his large black hands. Pulling back his foreskin to reveal his meaty, mahogany-colored glans, he sank his rod fully into her pink gash as he issued a weird, low-pitched exhalation that reminded me of an elephant snorting after a satisfying dust bath. Lindy, herself, gave vent to the cunt-busting plunge as she wailed, “Oh, Jeezus, yessss!” before resuming their carnal rhythm.
In my position on Lindy’s sofa, at this point I was seated directly across from them in my drug-induced stupor. My view was that of a thin, very dark-brown man, nearly my height of over six feet, goring a white girl with an ample prick that would be the envy of most Western Europeans. The contrast of their skins was enchanting, as was the sheer anthropological strangeness of their
coupling, and deep within my consciousness I heard a yes, as if in the future this was the way mating should be. I was drugged, of course, and such idealistic dreams were not part of Lindy’s purview. Snapping out of my reverie, I mumbled, “Is it good, Lindy?”
“Of course it’s good, you bastard!” she flared between grunts. “I just can’t cum! Wait a minute…Jean-Pierre, cherie, un moment.” She suddenly pulled forward, dislodging her confused instructor, and plopped down on her ass, spreading her legs widely to rest her feet on the arms of the chair. In seconds they were fucking again, this time in the missionary position, with Lindy looking directly at me over her paramour’s shoulder. “You see, Nicky, I too…can fuck anybody…I want at…any time. A black man…a green man… . I’d even fuck…my own father to…piss you off at this point… . You crossed the line!” Then she turned her attention to Jean-Pierre, in English: “C’mon, J.P., gimme your best!”
But his best apparently wasn’t good enough. He started moaning and accelerating his thrusts. I wished at that moment that I had Maureen’s camera to record her daughter’s vengeful response to my philandering: a large black prick straining to fill her full of African seed. In my most cruel moment of the afternoon I said, “Looks like he’s gonna pop soon, Lindy! Should I stick around for the big finish?”
She ignored me, instead asking Jean-Pierre if he was ready. “Tu es prete?”
He gasped, “Oui,” and sped his drilling, his head turned upward with a toothy grimace that showed the onset of his impending orgasm.
“Mais, dans ma bouche, cherie,” she whispered. He kept screwing her, still faster. “Dans ma bouche!” she repeated more loudly, ordering him to cum in her mouth.
It took only seconds, as his buttocks clenched and he shot once into Lindy’s plump, pink quim. She then pushed him out bodily and his flailing tool spewed another ribbon of seed up her front, landing on her tits. She quickly grabbed him by the hips and – the angle being right – took his knob just inside her lips as it spewed forth its sticky load. Her green eyes never left my face as she unblinkingly filled her cheeks with gout after gout of spunk from the shuddering Jean-Pierre. She gagged once, spilling a cascade down her chin onto her breasts, then resumed her sucking…an act that I’d experienced with her many times. Somehow I wasn’t surprised when she opened her mouth widely to me and stirred her tongue around in its thick, milky, gray-green contents, then swallowed the full mouthful with a resounding gulp.
Jean-Pierre collapsed onto the sofa beside me, accepted a glass of wine that I’d poured him, and shook my outstretched congratulatory hand with a sheepish grin. Outraged at this male bonding, Lindy threw a fit, screaming at the both of us. “You assholes!” she yelled, much to Jean-Pierre’s consternation and misapprehension. “Jean-Pierre, get the fuck outta here…now!” Her tone, rather than his understanding, caused him to gather his clothing and quickly get dressed. “You, Nick! Stay! I’m gonna give you an earful!” Then she stomped into her room and emerged in a fetching terrycloth bathrobe, and strode to her small kitchen. As I watched her dangerously washing dishes and flinging them onto a counter I arrogantly tried to remember how a score of women – when they’d been angry with me – had retreated to their kitchens to wash and break crockery.
“A bientot…merci,” said Jean-Pierre as he slipped out the door.
“Va!” shouted Lindy, exhorting him to go. “That prick!” she continued, almost running to stand over me as I was still seated, “All he wants to do is fuck white girls. He’s been after me for months! Today I gave him his chance and what did I get? “Rien! Nada! Nothing!”
“You’re just pissed off because I’m not jealous,” I said quietly. “Besides, you did get something. It’s already dry on your chin,” I said, cruelly, referring to the stream of spunk that had previously coursed down to her chest.
Lindy was nonplussed, paralyzed, it seemed, at my casual response. “You weren’t phased at all, were you?” she shrilled. “You let me fuck that guy in front of you and now you shrug it off like I was some kind of…of whore or something!”
Somewhere in the back of my drugged mind a shred of clarity remained. I’d been down this road before with irrational women trying to prove their points. That’s when I felt the first slap across my face. I shook my head in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening, I thought, not from this gorgeous little post-adolescent who’d purported to love me. Images of my hysterical mother, who’d beaten me across the face regularly as a child, reared out of my psyche and I stood up in response, towering over Lindy. Her eyes gleamed with the seething fury of a woman scorned…and she slapped me again, alternately with both hands, this time scratching one cheek deeply with her nails.
I was being attacked! The narcotic effects of the wine and the hash immediately disappeared. The savage response that was dormant in my hormones – perhaps my DNA – suddenly reared its ugly head. I grabbed the lapels of her robe and dragged the top down over her shoulders to her waist, capturing her arms and baring her succulent breasts to my rapacious eyes, causing her to whimper. I thrust my thigh between her legs, elevating her off the floor, and bit her hard on one breast. Then I stumbled with her to the kitchen as she whined, begging me not to hurt her. I whipped her about so that she was forced to grab the sink board with her hands – the only freedom of movement she had – as she began keening for mercy.
And I was hard! I’d been erect, or nearly so since Lindy’s exhibitionistic act with Jean-Pierre, and I was now ready to go! Unzipping myself with one hand, dropping my pants and lifting Lindy’s robe, her lovely, pink rectum winked back at me like a new, previously unseen star in a Spring sky. Her other holes had just been taken, and I growled, delighting in the fact that this tender aperture now was all mine! Somewhere in my mind, however, I still wanted to spare her pain as I taught her a lesson. A moment’s hesitation caused her to look around, as if questioning me, until I scooped up a quarter-cube of butter sitting on a saucer, softening in the afternoon warmth on her sink board.
“Aaaww…gawwd, Nicky, no-o-o,” she bawled, as I smeared the greasy mess into the crack of her ass, pushing it into her colon with two fingers to prepare her. I wiped the residue on my prick and sluiced its crown up and down across her rectum, stopping to nestle my cock tip into her lubricated opening. “Please don’t, honey! I’ve never…aaaannnggh!” she grunted as my glans popped past her anal sphincter. I pushed slowly, taking an inch or two until her muscles clamped down on me and she cried, “You’re too big! Aaaoooowww! Oh, Nicky!”
“Don’t hit!” I grunted like some feral beast. “Don’t ever…hit me!” I grunted again, this time with a flick of my hips that drove me deeper into her. “No…one, ever…hits…me!” I growled in her ear, bending over her back as would a giant dog, clutching her to me and gaining even more depth as she bawled, now powerless against my rapacious, drug-driven, assault. I reached around and brushed her clit with my middle finger…softly…causing her to jump in my encircling arms and moan. Another of my fingers joined it as I commenced massaging between her plump labia in a circular motion while I took longer strokes into her ass.
“Nnnngghh…awwgh…nnnngghh…awwgh!” she moaned, exhaling loudly each time I plundered her colon. Then she seemed to stop recoiling, instead pushing back against me as I plugged her. After a couple of minutes she was grunting deeply in her throat and thrusting her pussy forward and backward against my diddling fingers. “Ohh…Nicky…yeah!” she finally gasped. “Get it honey! Get it! Fuck me dirty! Fuck my ass!” she encouraged, wrapping her ankles backward around my knees for leverage. “It’s…so…fucking…good, Nick! You’re…so…fucking…good!” she exclaimed. Like me, she was now in a bestial zone of her own, and our respective motives seemed to meld as we took from one another what we needed.
But I wasn’t satisfied to merely teach Lindy a lesson. I wanted to humiliate her, as I had all females in my life who had tried to harm me physically or emotionally. So, I stopped masturbating her clit and buried my fingers in her pussy, rasping against her G spot.
“This is how your mother likes it,” I muttered cruelly into her ear while burying myself again in her rectum. But her response surprised me. Rather than being repulsed, she shrieked, and filled the apartment with guttural sounds of what became a titanic, prolonged orgasm. Merely holding onto her was a task, as her muscular little frame writhed in my embrace like that of a python. My legs, by this time, were tingling from their task of supporting both of us, and my excited sex organs were demanding release. So I let go as well, pumping shot after shot of cum into Lindy’s bowels as she shivered, shuddered and quivered, becoming a relaxed mass of flesh in my arms. We were still both standing as we heard pounding on the walls from neighbors, exhorting us to keep down the noise. Lindy had turned around and tried to kiss me, which I’d rejected, and I stumbled toward the bed in the living room and crashed onto it, exhausted by wine, hashish, and the extraordinary physical stamina of an 18-year-old girl.
Sometime during my fitful nap I heard Lindy showering. It must have been hours later – long after dark – when I arose, needing the same thing. The stench of sweat, rancid butter mixed with the smell of shit, and a heightened sense of my own shame, propelled me to the shower, from which I emerged a much more sober guy. I didn’t want to disturb Lindy, who’d retired to her bedroom untold hours before, so I lay down naked on the bed in the living room and closed my eyes. After a few minutes I heard her soft voice call, “Nick? Nicky? Will you please come in and sleep with me?”
What’s a man to do? I slipped quietly under the covers next to her and she snuggled warmly in the crook of my arm. One of her smooth legs swung over mine and a soft hand reached down gently to fondle my cock. She apologized for slapping me.
“I’m sorry, too, Lindy. I forgot how angry I get when a woman belts me. I’ll leave in the morning. What I really need now is a few hours of sleep,” said I. She mewled something feminine and we were down for the count.
The next morning we made love, the sweetest and gentlest that ever we had. Then I was gone. We both knew we wouldn’t see one another for many months – and then only after our European adventures were finished – in the States. She cried when I left, professing her love and asking me to take good care of her mother.
After Italy I went to Greece, then Egypt, to see the ancient Nile Valley ruins and statuary before the waters of the Aswan Dam covered them for eternity. Once back home I felt like a fish out of water…except for Maureen. Though I’d returned to the university, college girls had lost their luster for me, and her maturity kept alive in my body what my memories and spirit could never forget. Our sex life became ever-more-imaginative, even serving as a stimulus for her to pursue erotic photography…professionally, given her contacts. As well, I corresponded with Lindy, who herself seemed to have become much more sophisticated as she wound down her year of study in Europe.
Lindy arrived home without advance notice, obviously hoping to surprise us all. I called Maureen one Friday night after work to invite her to a wine tasting and Lindy answered the phone. Within an hour I was at Maureen’s house, posing with her daughter for pictures taken by her proud mother. Lindy’s hair was darker, having let it grow out to its natural auburn color, making her look very European. She was dressed conservatively in a dark, long-sleeved, cotton plaid dress that covered her from neck to knee. Her body had taken on the muscular adult slimness of Maureen and I had to stop myself from repeatedly embracing her. She was also wearing a pair of stylish, snug, over-the-calf leather boots…a fetish item of mine on women’s legs. She and I went to the tasting, but we left early since we really wanted to be alone and talk.
“Mom and I have written reams about you over the past months,” she said, when we arrived back at her mother’s house. “We’ve decided to share you…physically…if that’s all right.”
“I’d be a fool to refuse,” I said. “You’ve gotten over your puppy love, then?”
“Anything but,” she shot back, leading me into the darkened living room to sit on some giant pillows in front of a roaring fireplace. “You’re a philanderer, Nicky…a true consumer of women. If I tried to make you monogamous, you’d destroy me. Besides, I’m bisexual now. I’ll finish school, but eventually I might even end up with a woman…as well as a child. When I want a baby, I’ll give you a call, and only you. In the meantime, let’s make love when we can. I’m sexually obsessed with you, and so is Mom. I’ve talked it all over with her.”
“What, no incest?” I asked, sarcastically, though I was surprised at her “bi” confession.
“Don’t press it, mister. We’ll push all the perversion buttons you want except that one. Besides, you were instrumental in developing us…separately,” she articulated, crawling toward me to lay down on my front. Her taut body immediately awakened memories of our couplings months before and I became instantly hard. “Mmmmnnnn, I see that you remember some of our good times!” she whispered, kissing me and licking persistently inside my mouth. The fire crackled and reflections of its flames danced on the surrounding walls as the logs sizzled, echoing our hot foreplay. My hands covered her from ass to shoulders, then between us to softly squeeze her lovely breasts. She spread her legs to straddle me and ground her mound against my bulging groin as her skirt rose in the process. I cupped her soft buns and – for the first time I could remember with her – I discovered a pair of panties. Easing my fingers under them, Lindy muttered, “Take ’em off, Nicky…please take ’em off,” then straightened her legs to allow it. She then rose to her knees and began unbuttoning her dress in haste. “I need to feel your body, Nick…have your cock in me. Gawd, I’ve missed you so much since you left France,” she said, breathing heavily. I quickly peeled off my clothing and shoes. She groped at the zippers on her boots but I restrained her, then we fell into one another’s arms, issuing passionate little whimpers as we came together.
Our mouths and hands were everywhere. We rolled, clinging to one another, toward the hearth and the fire warmed our naked bodies. Almost instinctively we assumed a “69,” and my mouth immediately sucked in her sweet nectar as she bent nearly double with her booted feet in the air. “Nnnnsllppp,” I drooled as my tongue dug deeply into her red, oozing cunt. Then I cried “Aaa-aaahh!” as she took my cock into her mouth in one quick plunge. Since I’d known her, Lindy had been especially aggressive at oral sex, much more so even than her mother. But this night she seemed ravenous, slightly crazed and desperate, as she jammed me into her tight throat while moaning and gasping for breath.
“Ooooh, Nicky, you’re gonna make me cum so quick!” she whined. “Nibble my clit…that’s it!…mark me, honey! she cried as she thrust her cunt at my slavering jaw. “Ohh, yeah! Rough! You know how I like it! Bite me!” she plead. At this point her head was thrown back and she was jerking me off while verbally filling the air with her sensuous demands. I split her clitoral hood with my thumbs and nibbled her little button like a squirrel eating a nut, and she thrashed in response down onto my face, shouting hoarsely in her throat. “Gawdammit, yeah!” she yelled. “Eeeaaat me! Jeezus! I’m gonna…I’m…” and she froze on my face, quivering through a long, protracted orgasm as my teeth and tongue set ablaze all 8,000 nerve endings in her clit. As the arc of her climax reached its nadir, I held onto her trembling hips with joy, imagining the extent of her pleasure. Then the fireworks started, long before Lindy had finished.
I should say, the flashbulbs. Without our – or me – knowing it, Maureen had joined us in her bathrobe with her camera and begun taking photos of our fireside tryst. The first shot was taken over my shoulder as my head was raised, licking away at Lindy’s crotch, then she moved toward her daughter for a close-up. As the girl was alternately yelping and trying to blow me, her mother snapped away, capturing images of Lindy clasping my dripping cock next to her gorgeous face, held against one cheek. Having seen her cum many times, with her eyes closed and her lower jaw trembling through her spasms, I could only imagine the mindless orgasmic look that was registered on film.
Maureen continued photographing as I rolled us over with Lindy still breathing hard. I quickly stuffed pillows under her lower back and she groaned with anticipation as I slipped between her upraised hips, her legs splayed widely, ready to receive me. “You want to fuck in front of your mama, baby?” I asked, looking also at Maureen…almost requesting permission to proceed.
“Oh-Gawd-yes-Nicky-fuck-me-now!” Lindy gasped in a halting manner, digging her nails into my forearms and trying to pull me inside her wet, gaping pussy. I dove into her in one fluid swoop, holding her shoulders off the carpet to prevent abrasions, since her hips were elevated so high on the pillows. “Nnnn-gaaahh!” she yelled as I struck her cervix, then began a mewling in her throat that rose in volume and timbre as she ground up against me. “Awww, Nicky…again! I’m gonna…again!” she screamed as the heels of her leather boots began pounding down on my buttocks. She’d never really come down from her first orgasm, so this one was just icing on the cake. She’d somehow clambered up to a near sitting position supported by my arms, and was thrashing around my deeply-embedded cock while throwing her arms around my neck. At that point I grabbed both of her breasts and began pulling on her nipples, roughly as she’d always liked, and she was off again, hammering her sensitive inner organs against the unyielding meat I was hammering into her. “Fuuuuuuuccckkk!” she finally screamed, as Maureen’s flash camera captured another of her youngest daughter’s implosive orgasms.
It was at that point that I climaxed, grunting into Lindy’s soft, ivory neck and biting her as I exploded…seemingly in quarts. I was cumming so hard that I released Lindy from our embrace and drove into her, balanced on my hands, and arched my back as my balls pulsed out their seed. I was grunting like a feral pig as I spilled the last shots into her hot little body. I finally looked down at her and she was beaming and stroking my front from pectorals to abdomen, extremely satisfied that I’d found such pleasure within her. She pulled me to her and scattered kisses all over my face and neck, murmuring little feminine sounds of satisfaction until I withdrew – groaning – and rolled exhaustedly off of her onto my back as my messy prick slapped back against my belly.
I was still dribbling cum when Maureen leapt to my side, now naked, and engulfed my prick in her mouth. She sucked so hard that it hurt, and I cried out, “Owww…Jeezus!” and wrenched away from her and the pain in my groin.
“Sorry, baby,” she said. “Watching you two got me so hot I could eat you alive!”
“Gimme a few minutes to charge my batteries,” I begged, looking over at Lindy who was watching clinically as her mother had leapt on me, sucking and jerking me off. Her head was propped up casually on her hand, her elbow on the carpet.
She grinned and whispered, “You look so sexy with your cock in Mom’s mouth! You just wait. Carolyn gets back next week and we’ll both fuck you ’til you scream!”
As Maureen then licked me more gently to an erection, somewhere in the back of my mind I was a bit disappointed that this mother and daughter team had ruled an incestuous threesome out of the question. I guess, in my travels, I’d gotten too greedy.
* * * * * *
In 1964 I graduated from college and was immediately drafted into the Army. After eight months of training the military sent me to Europe, where I visited some of my old haunts and foolishly extended my service a year, thinking I’d stay on the Continent. I wrote Maureen and her daughter regularly, and Lindy started making plans for us to have a child on my return. But the world was changing rapidly and my extra year in uniform took me to quite another venue: Vietnam. I returned from there a much less arrogant young man than I’d been before, and – for reasons perhaps understood only by veterans of that war – I’m sorry to say that it was a long time before I ever saw Lindy or Maureen again.