I apologize. I did not intend to write so much. It is quite lengthy. The memories, much like the juices between my legs, just kept flowing...
When I was a sophomore in college my older sister set me up on a blind date with Kirk, one of her students at the high school where she taught. She promised me that even though Kirk was only 18 and a high school senior, that he was absolutely beautiful and that he had quite a reputation around school as a cocksman. She told me that she wished she could fuck him.
My love life was not great at college. It mostly consisted of me masturbating myself to sleep every night alone in my dorm room bed. I was pretty, and pursued by guys, but I was not that interested in any of the jocks and jerks who had asked me out, so, after seeing Kirk's yearbook photo, I reluctantly agreed to go out with him. My sister told me Kirk thought my photo was really hot. She thought that he and I should at least have a sexual fling. She said that what I needed was a good fuck, and that she was sure Kirk could give it to me. She also wanted to hear all the details.
My sister was right. Kirk was the most beautiful boy I had ever met. He was tall and handsome with pure, creamy skin, blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, a perfect butt, strong arms, and soft, boyish looks. He was one of those Adonis types who has a perfectly fit body without ever working out. He looked like a god.
Although we did not have much in common, and I knew that my snobbish, country club parents would never let me pursue a long-term relationship with Kirk, let alone marry him, since I knew they would see his family as socially and financially below them, I was immediately very attracted to Kirk. I remember that, to my own amazement, my pussy opened like a flower and my panties became damp within the first few moments of meeting him. All I wanted was for him to fuck me. I then understood my sister's sexual frustration around him.
We went out. Kirk was a great kisser with a one-track mind. All he wanted was to get into my pants. And I was more than willing. I practically forced myself on him. By the end of that first date, he had convinced me in the back seat of his car to masturbate openly in front of him with my pants off.
I was inexperienced then, so I was not sure how good sex could or should be. I realized later that Kirk was good at some things but not so great at others. He was a little selfish and mechanical. Emotionally he was immature and an absentee lover. He didn't really pay attention to my needs. It was wham-bam-thank-you-mam. Kirk had his moves and his moves were good, but I felt like I was just another conquest, that I could be anyone.
Don't get me wrong. I did enjoy myself. Kirk told me how beautiful and sexy and cute I was. He made me appreciate my ass. He was great at fingering me into a frenzy, and I was so attracted to him and his cock that he could have just laid there and done nothing and I would have been perfectly happy exploring his fantastic body, but I wanted more from a lover. I wanted an emotional connection. It just wasn't meant to be.
When we talked about sex he practically cried. He told me he had been with dozens of girls. He said he had lost his virginity when he was 13 in a threesome with an older girl and her sister, and that since then he had had sex with many, many girls, as well as, not long before I met him, a short-lived affair with one of his own friend's mothers. I realized that he was a male slut. This turned me on and off. This was too much for me. Kirk was understandably very confused by it all. But so was I. I tried to comfort him and to help him sort things out, but I was not ready for any of this and I knew then and there that, no matter how many more times we had sex, that he came with too much baggage and that the relationship was not going to be serious.
The summer came. We ended up going out on about a dozen dates in all. We decided to keep it light and to see other people, since he was leaving in the fall for a college across country. Since I was going to summer school and lived a two-hour drive away, we only saw each other every week or so on the weekend. This leads me to the events I wanted to talk about here.
After Kirk graduated from high school, he continued to live at home with his family to save money for college. He had his own bedroom and bathroom in the basement, which included a family and game room with couch, TV, stereo, ping-pong and pool tables. His siblings and parents all had their bedrooms upstairs on the second floor.
Kirk's mother was really religious and a bit high-strung. I don't think she liked me. His father was laid back and sweet. I could tell he liked me and that he was sexually checking out my body when he first met me. Since I lived two hours away, I would drive down to Kirk's town on Friday afternoons and his parents allowed me to sleep over and drive back to school the next morning. We even double-dated a couple of times with his younger sister and her boyfriend. The rule was, that since they didn't have a guest room, I would have to sleep on the couch in the basement family room. This room, the argument went, unlike the upstairs living room, would give me some privacy.
Well, this setup was all for show for his mom. Kirk and I would come home late from dinner and a movie and go into his room and masturbate together. Because his mother would come down early to wake Kirk up in the morning for work, I had to be asleep by then on the couch. We didn't really get to sleep together. But this arrangement made it look like nothing illicit had happened. I don't know if his mom was just dim or in denial, but she once said to me, almost like a warning, that Kirk was going to wait until he was married to have sex, that he was still a virgin. I could tell by the way Kirk's father looked at me, by the twinkle in his eye and the way he stared at my butt, that he knew what was going on in the basement every Friday night. He was not that naive.
Kirk and his mom worked the 7:00 AM shift at the same factory on Saturday mornings, and our dates were usually on Friday nights, because on Sunday Kirk had to go to church and spend the day with his family. Kirk's mom would wake him up at 6:00 and go back upstairs to make breakfast, and he would come out, wake me up, and make out with me on the couch, getting me all worked up and horny before he left with his mom for work. We got into a routine where I would masturbate him to orgasm just before he ran out the door. Then I would masturbate and fall back asleep until Kirk's father would wake me around 9:00.
The first time Kirk's father came down to wake me up, he had a cup of coffee. He asked me if I wanted a cup. I said yes. He brought me a cup and sat down in a chair across from me, with me still under the covers, and we talked. This led to a regular routine. He would come down in his pajamas with two cups of coffee and we would talk for anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes about all kinds of things. He especially liked my car, a new BMW convertible, and we talked about that and my classes at school. He never asked me about how things were going with Kirk. I really respected that he let us keep things private. He was very calm and cool, not as good looking as his son, but I could see the resemblance. He was still very sexy. It gave me insight into how Kirk would physically change over the years.
These morning talks turned me on tremendously. I was usually still horny from Kirk's early morning sex play. As we talked, I would lie under the covers, usually in my panties and one of Kirk's undershirts, but occasionally nude from the waist down. It felt sexy to be nearly naked like that so close to a much older man. Sometimes I would sit up, with the blanket covering my legs. I would not wear a bra to bed, and Kirk's father would openly stare at the tight shirt covering my breasts and my hard nipples. I tried to be sophisticated and sexy. A few of those times, when I was especially turned on, I would let my hand creep down to my pussy, slipping a finger inside my panties as we talked. Although he might have suspected something, and I am almost sure he did, he could not know for sure that I was masturbating there in front of him. I would rub myself but never to orgasm. I would sit with one knee up, making a tent of the sheet, which gave me plenty of room to play with myself without the motions of my hands disturbing the blanket. My masturbation in front of him was never overt, but I enjoyed those long strokes against my clit or the slow, deep fingering of my cunt as I sat there before this gorgeous middle aged man.
At a certain point in the conversation, usually when my attentions were too diverted to continue talking, Kirk's father would get up to go back upstairs. He didn't wear underwear under his pajamas and he usually had either a semi-erection or a very prominent erection, which bobbed against his pant leg. It was still somewhat dark in the basement, with the light coming through the small windows, but I could see his cock clearly. It was bigger than Kirk's. I loved watching him walk uncomfortably and slowly to the staircase. He would give me a little show, standing there with it sticking out, letting me know the effect I had on him. I loved the sexual power. With my eyes fixed on his thick cock, straining against the fabric, I would rub myself under the sheet. He sometimes looked back at me with one last, longing stare, before he climbed the stairs. I focused my eyes on his cock. As soon as he closed the door to the basement, I would push down the covers and my panties, spread my legs, and rub myself to an explosive orgasm.
I started to look forward to my mornings with Kirk's dad, which I never told Kirk about. I began to fantasize about fucking Kirk's father. I would lay awake after Kirk left for work, waiting for his father to come down with coffee, and play with my pussy, thinking about sucking his father's cock or about his big, rough hands exploring the soft folds of my cunt. I loved the forbidden aspect of it all.
One morning I decided to take it a step further, to let his father see me in my panties. I went to the bathroom and waited until Kirk's father was coming down the stairs and into the family room before I made my way back to the couch. I had worn a short undershirt that stopped above my waist and a particularly skimpy pair of panties, a black lacy thong that barely covered my asshole and pussy.
He gasped when he saw me, stopping and staring at my ass, as I slowly walked back to the couch. I took the coffee from him and stood there briefly with my legs parted to give him an ample look at my body. He took me in. I then sat down Indian style on the couch but did not bother to cover myself. He sat down in the chair, leaning forward. We talked, and I acted as if nothing was different. He stared at my crotch and my bare stomach, and my erect nipples. My panties were soaked. He only stayed a few minutes that time, leaving with an erection and a dazed, flustered grin on his face. He was shaking his head and licking his lips, looking at me as he walked away. I figured I had probably taken it too far, but it was like I was high on my own sexual power. He went up the stairs. I stripped off my panties, brought my knees up, spread my legs, and masturbated roughly and quickly on the couch, coming loudly with a gasp and a long groan. I was breathing heavily. It was then that I heard footsteps on the stairs and then the basement open and close. I was pretty sure that he had stayed there half way up the steps and watched me. At least he heard the sounds of my sloshing fingers and my loud orgasm. This thought got me so worked up that I brought myself to another cum. When I went upstairs to leave, Kirk's father was in the shower.
It was three weeks later that I had another sleepover at Kirk's. It was the last time we went out on a proper date before we officially broke it off. Kirk had tried to have sex with me on the couch before he left for work. But we didn't have time. I fell back asleep, but nude. When Kirk's father came down, he said 'Becky, are you decent?' I was asleep and I said 'Yes, I'm fine.'
He brought down the cups of coffee, and as he sat there, me with the sheet brought all the way up to my neck to cover my breasts, I noticed that he was looking at my clothes strewn across the floor in front of the couch. There were my sandals, shirt, bra, and panties clearly on view. My panties, with the soiled crotch completely visible to him, were lying just a couple of feet from his chair. He couldn't take his eyes off my panties.
'Wild night?' he asked, sipping his coffee. I just laughed nervously. Then I began to get horny. I knew that he knew I was nude. Covered only in a sheet, not that much was left to the imagination. He was sitting there quietly, still staring at my panties and bra. He asked me if I wanted him to get me an undershirt or something. I told him it was too hot and that I was fine. He said that it was warm down there and that he should turn on the air conditioner. It was then that he first asked me how it was going with Kirk. I told him we would have to see. He said long-distance relationships are tough.
Then I noticed that his penis was standing straight up in his pajamas, just bobbing there 7 or 8 inches in the air. I don't know how I hadn't noticed it before. Now I was the one who was staring. He knew that I was staring but we both acted like my soiled panties and his cock weren't even there. The silence was unbearable. My breathing quickened. I began to sweat under the sheet. I was burning up and he asked if I was alright. I told him that I was just hot. He said he was hot too. He got up and turned on an oscillating fan. His cock was sticking straight out. I was the one who gasped this time. He sat back down.
It must have been the heat, but I just let the sheet fall to my waist, exposing my breasts to him. I pretended it was an accident. I apologized. He said it was fine, that I had a beautiful body. I said thank you and asked him if he was alright if I just stayed uncovered. He nodded. My nipples were burning and I felt like I had a fever. I couldn't stop looking at his erection. I slumped on the couch, letting the sheet fall a little more, so that it was below my bellybutton. My legs parted as if they had a will of their own, and the sheet fell a little further. I put my hands on my stomach and began tracing circles around my bellybutton. He asked if that felt nice. I closed my eyes and answered yes. Then I brought one knee up, allowing the sheet to pool between my legs. My pussy was still covered, but I could feel the air from the fan on my pubic hair. He groaned. I lifted my hand to my breasts. I said that I am just so hot. He said he was very warm too.
I just started playing with my nipple and opened my knee. The sheet fell to the floor and I pushed it aside. I let my raised knee fall back against the couch, exposing my pussy to him. He grunted and told me how beautiful I was. I thanked him. I opened my eyes. His cock was standing straight up and sticking out of the opening of his pajamas. He was grasping the head, rolling it in the palm of his hand. I brought my feet up on the couch, spreading wide for him, and I began fingering myself in earnest, as he stroked his cock. He said 'I won't fuck you, as much as I want to. It's just not right.' I said 'That's alright. Are you OK with just watching?' He said he was. We masturbated for a good half an hour, starting and stopping so we wouldn't come too fast. Then he began talking dirty to me. He told me how pretty I was; how much he loved my body; how much he wanted to fuck me, to eat me out, to lick my asshole. He told me how he wanted me to touch my pussy and ass and breasts. I talked back to him, telling him to fuck his hand and to imagine it was my pussy. I told him how much I wanted him to fuck me. We then came together. And we came twice more before I left. We agreed never to tell anyone about this. And a year later we ran into each other at a bar and ended up going to a motel(another story).