A Love Note

She was wearing a bright yellow sun dress that draped over her waist to just above her knees, revealing her smooth, golden-brown legs and bare feet.  She left the dress’s bodice unbuttoned, exposing a hint of her thin breast’s bare skin still untouched by the hot summer sun.  Stepping out of the broiling summer heat into the shade of the house’s huge patio, she paused at the large sliding glass doors that opened into the home’s great foyer.  Turning slightly, she glanced over her shoulder at me lounging in the shade to see that I would come, then quickly yanked the heavy door open just wide enough to enter and slid inside.

Of course, I would come: she knew it could be no other way.

She was waiting at the top of the basement stairway when I entered the cool, quiet house, that somehow always smelled sweet and clean, like lavender and fresh linen.  Softly, I approached but stopped when I was standing close enough to touch her.  We watched each other a moment, then suddenly she took my hand and pulled me close to press her slimy-wet and bitter tasting mouth to mine, our rough tongues lapping, embracing one another, my heart thumping with anticipation—my cock already long and thick and stiff.

Clenching my hand, she nervously led me down the stairs to the dark, secluded room in the basement, where we hastily prepared the thin, uncomfortable bed in the old sofa-sleeper as usual with a worn sheet and old blanket.  Embracing her at the foot of the tired old bed she felt moist and smelled like sweat, her sloppy-wet mouth tasted of cigarettes, bitter wine, and salt.  Clutching her close to me my hand slipped under the thin yellow fabric of the dress to knead a sweaty tit while she massaged the rigid bulge in my shorts.

“You… are a very… very bad boy,” she groaned breathlessly, pushing me away to smear my slick saliva from her reddened mouth and catch her breath.

“Yes… I am a bad boy… so what does that make you?” I asked pointedly, pinching a hardened nipple.

Suddenly she thrust her hands into my chest knocking me backward to crash on the springing bed with a solid *crunch*, then stood staring down at me in the half-light of the dingy room, long, wild hair dangling haphazardly in her face.

“Umm”—she moaned, lifting the back side of the skirt to slip her thumbs under the waist band of her panties—"I’m… a very… very naughty girl.” She sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth and hurriedly stripped off her panties, dropped them to the floor at her feet.

I fumbled with the fly of my shorts when she violently grabbed hold of my wrists and twisted my arms up and over my head, crushed down on me, and firmly held me to the bed.

“Oh, no! that’s not what I need,” she leered.  Kneeling on the bed over me she straddled my chest, pinning my arms down under her folded legs.  Restrained under her, as I was, I offered no resistance, held my breath in eager anticipation.  Then, slowly, she gathered up the skirt draped over her waist and exposed the pale naked skin, wiry black hair, and thick dark lips dangling from the cleft at the junction of her thighs.

Rising to her knees to straddle my face I took a deep breath of the pungent, inebriating scent from her sultry snatch, stuck my tongue out to probe the thick, dark, slippery lips enclosing her sweltering interior.  Squealing as my tongue penetrated the soft, slick folds between her thighs she rolled her hips, spread her legs wide and pressed her wet, hairy crotch to my nose, mouth, and protruding tongue.  Soon I was squirming under her drenched crotch as suddenly I felt she’d suffocate me.

Unable to breath, a feeling of panic enveloped me as I desperately attempted to lift her from my now slimy-wet face to catch a breath.  Apparently oblivious to my desperate situation—or maybe enjoying it—she bore down on me with all her weight, pressing my face deeper into her hairy snatch, and my head harder into the uncomfortably firm bed springs, making it impossible to breathe and pinching off the circulation in my arms.  Now I flailed frantically in a desperate effort to throw her off me until, at last, she raised herself enough to allow me to gulp in some much-needed air.

“Damn!” I groaned, exhaling—then sucking in thick, fetid air— “you trying to suffocate me?” I complained, my heart pounding.  She giggled delightfully and lifted some of her weight holding me to the bed, leaned forward and braced herself steady on the back of the couch, then gently lowering herself again until I could lick and suck her swollen clit between deep breathes.

Now sucking her swollen love button into my slobbering mouth and flicking the hard bundle of nerves with my tongue I knew she must be approaching a climax as she began rocking and thrusting her hips back and forth across my sloppy-wet face, pressing her sensitive nub into my chin and probing tongue.  Soon she groaned mournfully, then clamped my head between her thighs and hot, wet liquid cascaded over my chin, trickled over my cheeks and neck, filled my mouth with harsh, salty liquid.  Surprised by the sudden rush from her slit I clamped my mouth closed, reflexively gulping-down the bitter liquid as another strong rush drowned me in acrid secretions, soaking my face, shirt, and the bedding under my head.

She hunched over me a few moments as I coughed and choked trying to clear my nose and throat of her soaking cum until she eventually collapsed on the bed next to me.  Free at last to sit up I smeared the slick, bitter liquids away from my chapped mouth, sat watching and listening to her labored panting for a short while, tugging at the fly of my shorts to release my thoroughly rigid and ready cock.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed, “I’ve got to run or I’m going to be late.”  Quickly she rolled off the bed, leaving me sitting piqued and bewildered.  Then she stripped out of the sweaty yellow dress and stood naked over me, her nude body glistening faintly in the limited light making its way into the dank little room.  “I’ll have to leave you too it,” she grinned, combed her fingers through a tangle of wild hair hanging in her face.  “You know what to do,” she laughed, then darted from the room, hurriedly climbed the stairs.

That’s the way it is with us—sometimes she takes advantage of me, other times she lets me take advantage of her.  It’s my turn, I’d guessed.  Slowly I climbed off the squeaky old bed, stripped out of my pungent, wet shirt, dropped my shorts and briefs, pulled the wet bedding off the weary and worn mattress, gathered everything up to take to the laundry.  “Obviously, it’s my turn to clean up, too,” I grumbled to myself.  It’s not that anyone would ever notice the stinking clothes and bedding; no one cared to enter the dingy old room in the dark corner of the basement, or rummage through the dirty laundry for clues to a scandal, but it was certainly prudent not to leave anything behind that might arouse suspicion.

Now I stood pathetically naked and alone in the bright, clean and fresh little blue-gray laundry room holding our stinking, sweaty clothing and the wet bedding—my formerly rigid and ready sex now hanging thick and long but limp and drooling.  “It’s just as well she left me to jerk-off,” I thought to myself, knowing I’d have come-off too quick if she’d fucked me anyway, and I suspected she knew it too.  “It’s better this way,” I convinced myself, thankful I had the house to myself the whole afternoon to do whatever I pleased with myself.

Dropping the pile of filthy laundry to the floor her soiled panties tumbled from the heap, their tainted cotton crotch exposed like her oozing, soaking wet pussy.  I couldn’t resist picking them up to hold them to my face, inhale her pungent scent saturating the still moist cotton cloth that a short time ago had been snugly embracing the thick wet lips between her thighs.  I hadn’t planned to wank quite so soon, but as my cock began to stiffen again the thought of shooting a hot, sticky load into the sullied crotch of her panties aroused me.  But just as I wrapped the thin, slick material around my now renewed erection, I noticed neatly stacked on the folding table an assortment of her clean panties among freshly laundered clothing.  I dropped the dirty underwear to the pile on the floor as a more imaginative idea came to me.

Sifting through the stack of her freshly laundered underwear I chose the only bright-red pair available, thinking it was most appropriate for my purposes.  I held them up as if she were standing in front of me, her mound concealed by the delicate fabric except for little wisps of course, black, untamed wiry hair protruding from under the elastic at the legs.  Then I gently dropped them, as if pulling them down to expose her naked sex, held them to my face to feel the soft fabric against my cheek, inhaled their sweet, fresh like-flowers-in-spring scent.

Now my erect cock protruded stiffly into the cool, sweet air of the room, gently throbbing with the beating of my heart, the little slit in his swollen maroon head tricking pre-come in anticipation of what was to come next.  I squeezed a dollop of the glistening clear liquid onto the soft cotton crotch, leaving a little slimy wet spot in the otherwise spotless white fabric, then began gently pumping my thoroughly ridged erection.

It wasn’t going to take long to reach orgasm in my present state of excitement.  So, cupping the panties in one hand, I began stroking with the intent to bring myself to a swift climax with the other.  Suddenly —almost unexpectedly—the much-anticipated blinding rush radiated from my engorged cock, and one strong spasm after another shot thick spirts of sticky spunk into the waiting cotton crotch.  Numbed and blinded I crumpled at the waist as wave after warm wave sloshed over me, slowly subsided, leaving my hands and feet tingling.

Amazingly almost none of the thick strands of sticky seamen missed the center of the underwear, was now pooled in thick globs, saturating the soft cotton crotch.  Gently, very carefully, I then folded the viscus goo into the center of the brilliant red fabric, and delicately concealed them in the middle of the stack of clean panties, predicting she would discover the tainted undies unexpectedly—my little love note to her—perhaps as early as tomorrow morning.  Or better yet if she should pick them out because she wanted to ware something especially sexy for the old man!