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02 Temmuz 2022, 09:48
I followed Janice down the hallway of her rented, two-bedroom modular home. That's what it's called when you or someone you know, lives in one. Trailer is so white trash. Her slender figure, accentuated by the work clothes she still wore, was enough to elevate my heart rate a little. She was slightly taller than my five-foot-eight frame, but that just afforded me more leg. Wearing a standard pair of her black pantyhose and a skirt that only stretched a third of the way down her thigh, I was on autopilot to ecstasy island. Pausing, on the threshold of the bedroom, she commenced to slowly raising her left foot up her right calf. Through the moderately opaque hosiery, I could see Janice's muscles tighten under the strain of her body weight. Carving and sculpting, my eyes traced from the back of her knee, down the elongated oval of her toned leg, to the strong, yet delicate ankle. She spread the toes on her left foot as she continued to draw me in with its motion, up and down. I became flush from anticipation and the fact that Janice knew my weakness for her legs. Without my ever having confessed this tidbit, she had adeptly noticed my fondness. I did prefer when she fancied wearing leggings of some sort, but beggars can't be choosers and quite frankly, I was always chasing the orgasm. My orgasm. While lost in my trance, I failed to notice Janice remove the elastic hair tie, freeing her ponytail. She dropped her foot for balance so that she could shake her head, letting her hair loose and free. The dirty brown, shoulder length locks were thin and straight. An obscure clue to the life Janice had led. Crossing the threshold, she threw the hair elastic into a bowl of other elastics, that lived on her dresser. Quickly turning her attention to unbuttoning her blouse. Following her cue, I began to undress as well. Only I chose to take my blue jeans off first. The bulging pressure from my groin was becoming unbearable. Once I dropped my pants, I removed my socks and t-shirt, leaving me standing in my boxer shorts. My cock was pointing at Janice like I was water dowsing for her pussy. I took a moment to check in on Janice's progress. Much to my delight, she stood waiting for me. She hadn't removed her pantyhose, yet. But that was all she had left on. Again, asserting her knowledge, of my almost fetish level affection, that is to her advantage. Looking into her eyes and about her facial features, I could see the road map of a tortured soul. She was 27, going on 52. Visually anyway. Dark and sunken eyes. They were brown, almost black. The left one was slightly off center. To the right, toward her nose. There was also a three inch scar, along the outer edge of her left orbital bone. Not one for applying make-up, tonight was no different. She didn't smile often, either. At least, not a smile that would show her teeth. She had never learned proper hygiene as a child. Growing up, she got into trouble with alcohol and drug use. Brushing her teeth was never the priority it should have been. Not until she cleaned up and was awakened to many everyday grooming tasks. Among other awakenings. Her tits were pretty awesome. A good handful, the each of them. Her nipples were hard from arousal. Tonight she did smile at me. A sexy, comfortable, in the moment, teeth-baring smile. They were a little crooked, stained from coffee and nicotine, but they looked worse in Janice's mind. I had looked long enough. I needed to touch and feel, taste and smell. Taking a step forward, I cupped her left breast in my hand. Gently squeezing and circling her nipple with my thumb. With my other hand, I grabbed a handful of her ass and drew her in close. The smoothness of the pantyhose on my hand was intoxicating. Squeezing and rubbing her butt, gained moaning approval from Janice. Even a tiny giggle as she wrapped her arms around the back of my neck. Making soft contact with my neck, as her arms floated by, making my skin tingle. Our lips touched, mouths open. My tongue leisurely entered her inviting mouth. Breathing deeper with a quickened pulse, I could make out the faint aroma of perfume, applied many hours ago, mixed with a bit of sweat. I could taste the coffee on her almanbahis (https://almanbahisegir.com/) breath, from the A.A. meeting we had just come from. All of that faded into the back of my mind as I concentrated on the darting and probing of her tongue in my mouth. The thrust and parrying dance, never choreographed, but familiar to us. My one hand had found its way from Janice's behind to her inner thigh. The other, squeezing harder on her tit, as the intensity built. We took brief gasps of air, all the while our tongues sliding along one another's. Tilting our heads to either side with the fervor of our desire. Continuing to move my hand up her thigh, I could sense the humidity growing, the closer to her pussy I got. Today was warm enough. Clammy skin from the heat of the day was one thing. But now in complete wetness, my hand had reached its destination. Janice twitched from being startled by my sudden grip on her womanhood. I stroked my finger along the folds of her opening. Through her lingerie, I could feel her getting wetter. I had had about enough build up. My cock and balls were going to explode if I didn't get some relief. Placing one hand on either side of Janice's hips and in one motion, I picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She landed with a bounce and began to push down her pantyhose. I let my boxers fall to the ground. Then I gave them a kick against the wall. With one leg free, Janice finished removing her hose and playfully threw them at me. Catching them, I held them up to my nose and inhaled. The smell of wanting sex, permeated. Throwing the black, moderately opaque hosiery into the corner of the room, I then mounted the bed. Janice lay in a vulnerable state. On her back with head on her pillow, she opened her knee bent legs, to reveal her pink and swollen pussy. Crawling like a lion, with purpose and poise, I hovered over Janice. Leaning in, to smell her scent, kissing the nape of her neck. The fingertips on one of her hands scratched softly at my chest. While her other fingers explored my hair. She was nibbling on my earlobe and lapping it with her tongue. I took my cock, in hand, and directed the shaft through the folds of her snatch. Slowly entering, with little resistance. I felt the warmth of being inside Janice. Letting out a small moan and sigh, I pulled my hips back gradually until the tip of my dick was all that was left inside. After a short delay, I plunged a little faster and a little harder into Janice. This time, it was her who let out a small moan and sigh. Rising to my knees and placing my hands on her hips, I pushed and pulled her in rhythm with my thrusting. The tempo increased with each drive. She wrapped her legs around my torso. Into a scissor leg lock. I loved the way her smooth and soft legs felt on my naked skin. The way they would tense with anticipation. Squeezing me, ever so gently, to start. It was hard to wait for her. I could tell when she was ready to orgasm, by the ferocity of her leg scissors. She was getting close. I evened the pacing. Quick, shallow pokes. Her moans turned to grunts. I was breathing heavy myself. I could sense the glow on my forehead as a bead of sweat dripped down my cheek and then, neck. Her grunts were becoming more staccato as her body strained and tightened for an impending explosion. My huffing and puffing, a metronome akin to my harmonious, pumping thrusts. Finally, throbbing from the friction and pulsing emotion, the numb tingling sensation caused shivers throughout my body. I shot cum in waves. Filling Janice from within. At the same time, I could feel Janice release. Her head bridged backward. Her face, contorted, but satisfied. I rolled to the right of Janice and laid on my back. Still breathing heavy, but glowing from the bliss of my conquest. She remained where I left her. Gasping for air and trembling with gratification. Once I caught my breath, I searched the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes I knew Janice kept there. "Hey, grab me one too," Janice's voice was soft but demanding. I found the smokes quick enough. "Where's your lighter?" I asked. "In the pack." I looked inside the pack and sure enough, there was the lighter. Not being a regular smoker, it's almanbahis yeni giriş (https://almanbahisegir.com/) tricks like these that expose my ignorance for the addiction. I only smoke other people's cigarettes and only when I'm in the mood. Being a gentleman, I lit both smokes at the same time, in my mouth, then handed one over to Janice. I'm sure the chivalry was lost on her, but I'm not much of a chivalrous man. I took a long, hard pull on the dart. Holding the smoke for a second, then blowing a plume that filled the airspace above the bed. My head was buzzing wildly, my body grew numb, my dick was tingling, and the hair on my legs stood on end. Life could be grand. This was one of those moments. So grand, it made the other bullshit disappear. Janice broke my concentration when she began to tenderly scratch my stomach. She loved my tightly crafted abs and chest. Honorable mention to my ass. A big part of my recovery has been a healthy diet and exercise. It makes a huge mental difference and the side effect of looking and feeling great is a tremendous bonus. *** The depths from which I have crawled were immense. I was the guitarist and song co-writer in a rock band. We attained modest success for a couple of years. Nothing international, but we were local radio darlings. We worked hard and I partied harder. That was the problem. I loved me some sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. Literally. I was able to maintain the facade for a while, but eventually it all came to a crashing halt. Too hung-over to do media obligations, too drunk to perform well, and too preoccupied with tagging slutty groupies. The band was suffering because of me. They called my sister. Bought me a plane ticket and shipped me home. In the middle of a tour. That was hard to swallow. My problems began when I didn't have the time to properly grieve the death of my parents. They were killed in a traffic accident, just as the band and I were going into the studio for the first time, to record a full-length album. It was a good thing that all the songs were written and arranged, going in. I was a mess and could barely finish my parts. Long story short, we recorded our first album and toured for six months with moderate success. One of our songs got some radio play. We came off the road and right back into the studio. Recorded and released our second album and began to tour in support of it. This time we were well received both critically and with a swell of new fans. This tour stretched for eighteen months. By the end, I was a functioning alcoholic, depressed and exhausted. I think I slept for two straight days at the end. Somehow I was able to record our third album, but five weeks into the new tour, I got the news. "We're replacing you." Indeed, they did. The record label found a hot, young ax slinger. It took him no time to learn my chops. The problem was that he couldn't write a song to save his life. The band's fourth album and subsequent tour were glorious failures. They were dropped by the record label. In the meantime, my sister, Laura, took me into her house and fought for me, when I was incapable, making sure I kept getting my royalty cheques. Comforting and feeding me through the tough days and nights of withdrawal. I was her only family left. She was going to see me back to health if it killed her. Luckily it didn't come to that, but the effort was massive. Becoming an Alcoholics Anonymous member was non-negotiable with my sister. I had put up a meager rebellion, but she won in the end. It was during an open meeting one night that I met Janice. So, I did get some extra benefits with my attendance. *** Just as she was finishing her cigarette, Janice lowered her hand to grip my flaccid dick. Extinguishing her butt while beginning to gently stroke my cock. She moved even lower to juggle my balls between her fingers. I was getting hard. "Ready to go again?" She asked rhetorically. "Yeah. Give a minute." I still had a pull left in my smoke and I wanted to enjoy the head buzz for a minute more. As I was butting out, Janice moved herself down the bed. Her hand, back to stroking my increasingly harder cock. She bent over to kiss the bottom of my shaft, causing a surge of blood almanbahis giriş (https://almanbahisegir.com/) to engorge me further. Starting at the base of my shaft, she licked the bottom of my cock like an ice cream cone, I squirmed with pleasure. Her tongue circled the rim of my penis head a couple of times before she sucked my girth into her mouth. Her tongue, massaging my shaft. Then, pulling her head up and with a slurping noise when my cock broke free of her lips, she began to lick the bottom of my shaft again. This onslaught of licking and sucking was causing my entire pole to tingle and warm with pre-orgasmic sensations. When she started fondling my balls with her fingers, again, I was approaching climax. Janice was very good at handling a man's junk. Literally and figuratively. As well versed as her carnal knowledge was, she also had a heart of gold, that was taken advantage of more times than not. I had to wonder if she pleasured her husband with such a balance of reckless love. At the beginning of their courtship, I had no doubt. But after their marriage. When his true monster emerged. Did she use the same care and attention or was she nothing more than a pin cushion to satisfy his urges? She was mine for the time being. Her actions spoke louder than any words. She was with me body and soul. In the moment, as she always was. *** Janice was raised, an only child, by functioning alcoholics. Basically, she grew up without any parental guidance. She tried to stay in line because the punishment her father would dole out, otherwise, was a good deterrent. She had obvious learning disabilities. Accompanied by a non-diagnosis of A.D.D. and very inattentive parents, her grades suffered as did her attitude. When she was 16, her dad died of a heart attack. Struggling to get through the eleventh grade, she decided to drop out of school, to get a job and help pay the bills. With no objections from her detached mother, Janice started working as a waitress at the local greasy spoon. Depressed, lonely, and earning minimum wage, she now understood her mother's affinity for cocktails. Janice was a vodka hound. Drank it when she could, but the buzz was the objective, not the type of drink. One evening, soon after Janice had turned 17, she and her mother were frequenting their usual watering hole. It was their usual because they didn't care that Janice's I.D. was fake. Her mother had been seeing a man for a few weeks and he showed up that night, with a friend. As it turns out, Janice later discovered, that this was a planned set up on behalf of her mother. Wanting to help her daughter find a boyfriend wasn't what was wrong with the gesture, though. It was that she, her boyfriend and his friend, Mark, were all 36. Janice was of course just 17. She thought Mark, seemed like a nice enough man. And the thought of having someone to take care of her, for the first time, was too hypnotizing. After closing out the pub that night, the group went back to the cozy apartment Janice and her mom co-rented. Janice's mom and boyfriend, quickly disappeared into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. That left Janice and Mark, alone together, on the living room sofa. Drunk as they were, Janice was glad that this wasn't going to be her first time. She dated boys in school and had sex with two of them. She wasn't very experienced, but she knew a little about what to expect. Looking into Mark's eyes, she knew he would fuck her that night, whether she consented or not. Janice knew she consented as soon as she agreed to have him accompany her home. He was sloppy and aggressive. It could have been the alcohol, his level of arousal, or his regular thing. Either way, Janice let him take charge and she held on for the ride. After drooling in her mouth and smearing her chin and neck with his wet tongue, Mark put his hand up her shirt. To his surprise, she wore no bra. Her young, firm tits didn't need the support and it felt good to go natural. He squeezed and pinched her vibrant breast until it began to bruise. The struggling and mild protests, mustered against the pain of his grip, were met with ignorance. "You like it, don't tease me like that, or don't be a downer," were all phrases used by Mark that night. And many subsequent nights to follow. You see, Mark became Janice's husband. *** My breathing was deepening. I stood on the precipice, overlooking a great orgasm. Familiar with this view, the anticipation was staggering.