Just down the road

Back in the late ‘70s, part of my work responsibilities was to go to a downtown Vancouver office tower and reconcile orders, deliveries, and payments at a major client’s office once per week. Their receptionist was a very cute, svelte, short-haired blonde named Nancy and she would politely chat me up while I waited to be admitted to the inner sanctum.

One beautiful Saturday early afternoon I decided to walk down to the liquor store and supermarket a few blocks away. I was about a block away from my basement suite in an old house on the return trip when I saw Nancy jogging towards me on the other side of the street. I waved to her and she trotted over with a pretty smile on her face. Looking at my provisions, she asked if I lived nearby. I pointed out the house and she told me she lived in a low-rise visible down the street. She was a bit sweaty from her jog and said she needed to shower but I could bring the beer over in a few hours, she’d cook a small dinner, and “we can watch TV or something.”

About 6:30 I walked over to Nancy’s low-rise with the beer, my cock hardening as I speculated what “something” would hopefully entail. She let me in and was just finishing up a chicken and rice dish. We had a beer while it cooled down a bit, noshed, and stepped out on her balcony for a spliff. We came back inside and she indicated the couch while she turned on a baseball game on the TV, and then sat close beside me on what was a big piece of furniture. I was a happy camper - well-fed, pleasantly buzzed, close by a cute young woman on a comfy couch who liked beer, bud, and baseball.

A few minutes passed and we stopped talking and watching TV and simultaneously enfolded each other in our arms. Some slow, deep tongue-kissing ensued and I slid my hand over her small titties outside her shirt. YAYY!!!: no bra! Nancy didn’t object when I slowly unbuttoned her shirt and went in for an extended suck on the rock-hard nipples capping her smooth, firm little boobs. Our hands descended to the outsides of each other’s shorts and we feverishly groped each other. I slid my hand under her panties and grooved on her hot, wet slit enveloped in what was obviously a big bush. She was slightly panting as I stroked her and I hornily asked her if I could go down on her. “Oh, I’ve never had that before,” she moaned and lifted her hips off the couch. I kneeled in front of her on the floor and quickly discarded her shorts, revealing some very scanty, sexy, semi-transparent panties. OK, she wasn’t a natural blonde, but as I peeled the panties away and tossed them on the floor and enjoyed the oh-so-faint muskiness of her beautiful, blazing-pink cunt I frankly didn’t give a damn.

My enthusiastic tongue brought her to a powerful cum as she pushed herself against my mouth and audibly held in a moan of pleasure behind gritted teeth. I stood and freed my throbbing cock from my shorts and underwear, hoping she’d reciprocate, but it wasn’t to be that night. “I want to make you cum with my hand! I’ve never seen a guy ejaculate before!” she said. I sat right down beside her, watching her undo my shirt, not really that disappointed. I’d been addicted to the feeling of hands, mine ,and females, on my cock for years, and had a bit of an exhibitionistic side to me anyways.

Nancy very gently held my thick cock in her fist, her fingers not quite enveloping me, and began a slow, never-varying stroke. She would stop every once in a while when I neared orgasm, taking the opportunity to French me or gently squeeze my balls. She’d obviously had some practice at this or was well-read in the art and science of handjobs. My pre-cum slicked my glans and cockshaft and I begged her to finish me off. Nancy jacked me faster, her gaze intently fixed on my meat. I moaned and babbled as I felt my cumload rising up.

I spurted eight or so thick, rich ropes of cum all over my chest and stomach as waves of pleasure wracked me from perineum to tip of cock. She slowed down the beat and reluctantly got up to get some paper towels to clean my jizz-splatter. We watched the end of the ballgame and she told me I should go home. A few days later, she let me fuck her and I’ve never had my cock in a tighter orifice in my life, besides the wife’s asshole. The relationship continued for a couple of months, but we grew apart once Nancy moved back into her parent's house while she went to Simon Fraser University.