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Neglected Housewife


Third times a charm. I have reposted this story
once again but this time in two parts. Enjoy!

"Hi, may I help you find something?" I ask, as
I approach a strikingly beautiful woman, looking around
the bookstore.

"Yes." She smiles at me. "I'm looking
for books on orgasms." She says it so matter-of-factly
that it catches me off guard. Or maybe it's her exquisite
eyes, deep brown with an almost oriental look coupled with
her mahogany complexion that makes me catch my breath.

"Right this way." I say, leading her across
the store. "Is there a specific book you're looking
for?" I ask her as we walk toward the sexuality section.

"No, not a specific book. I just want to look through
your selection." She responds. I'm taking in
more of her beauty as we talk. She'd be tall even without
her two-inch heels and her pale blue blouse beneath a light
grey business suit perfectly complements her cocoa brown

"There are a lot of books on orgasms. Is there a specific
type you wanted?" I ask as we arrive at the sexuality

"Funny, I thought they had dispelled that old myth
about different types and everyone agrees there's
just the one kind now." She says.

"Type of book, I meant!" I feel my face flush
and I know I'm probably blushing.

"I knew what you meant." She says, patting me
on the arm, playfully. "I was just kidding!"
Her smile shows beautiful white teeth between her thick,
ruby lips.

"That was good!" I return her wide smile and
recover my composure. "There really are a lot of different
types of orgasm books. Here's one called The Multi-Orgasmic
Woman." I tell her pulling a book from the shelf.

"That's okay." She says with a slight chuckle.
"I'm still trying to be the single orgasmic woman."

"Okay." I say slowly, wondering if she expects
me to comment on that. "There are different types
of books depending on whether it's for you or your partner."
I explain, noticing her wedding band for the first time.
"For your partner, I have a popular one called She
Comes First: The Thinking Man's Guide to Pleasuring
a Woman."

"She comes first, huh? If only." She says sarcastically.
"No, I'm looking more for the, um.... do-it-yourself
section." She laughs nervously.

I pause a minute before continuing. "Well, we have
Tickle Your Fancy - A Woman's Guide to Sexual Self-Pleasure.
Taking it off the shelf, I show her the cover. It has a picture
of a woman with her eyes closed, head thrown back, apparently
in the throes of self-pleasure.

"What a great title." She says, looking at the
book." It's been a long time since my fancy's
been tickled properly." She's smiling as she
flips the pages.

Not wanting to walk away from this beautiful, sexually
candid woman, I reach for a familiar yellow book and tell
her, "Of course, if you're really desperate,
there's always Sex For Dummies."

"Oh great! We just met and already you're calling
me names!" She says flirtatiously. She looks me in
the eyes and dips her hip on one side, saying. "You
really think you're going to stand here and help me
pick out an orgasm book, don't you?"

"Um, no. I'm sorry. I was just trying to be helpful."
I'm holding my hands up, palms out and backing away
from her.

"You were very helpful, um." She bends slightly
to read my nametag. "Mike. But I think I'll just
browse now."

"Sure. If you don't find what you need here."
I pause for effect of the double entendre. "Just let
me know. I'm here for another hour." She's
smiling and flipping through the book as I walk away.

Wow! In the two years I've worked here I've never
known any customer to be so candid about their sexual needs,
let alone books on masturbation! The customers in this
section are usually giggly teenagers or panting couples.
Neither group asks for help.

I get back to work, reshelving books but my eyes keep straying
back to her, captivated by her alluring presence. I position
myself across the store where I can watch her without being
obvious. Her business suit is perfectly tailored; conservative
yet cut to show off her curvaceous figure. Her skirt hugs
her ass giving a hint of the firm round globes underneath.
Its mid-thigh length shows plenty of her shapely legs tapering
into two-inch black pumps. I start fantasizing what she'll
look like applying the techniques in that self-pleasuring

In my mind I see her lying naked on her back with her knees
pulled up, pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy. Her
velvety, black bush brushes against her hand as she furiously
works her fingers faster and faster trying to achieve that
illusive climax. Her other hand is pinching and pulling
at her thick black nipples stretching them out from their
surrounding dark areolas, making her large, dark tits
appear cone shaped on her heaving chest. She's bucking
wildly against her hand, lifting her firm, round ass off
the bed. Shifting her hand to her clit, she starts rubbing
in a circular motion while still shoving her fingers in
and out of her pussy. As hard as she's trying, she still
isn't quite getting there. I crawl up on the bed, my
pale white skin contrasting sharply with her dark mocha
coloring. Bending my mouth down to her pussy and pushing
her fingers aside, I say. "Here, let me help you with

"Help me with what?" Asks Amber, a recently
hired, red-haired, high school girl with teen sized tits
and a dynamite little ass. Her question breaks me out of
my reverie and I realize I've spoken out loud.

"Uh...with those books." I say, pointing to
the books in her arms and trying to recover quickly. "Here
let me take some." I glance over at the enthralling
woman still browsing the sexuality section.

"Sure. Whatever." She says, handing me half
her books, but looking at me quizzically. "Are you
okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, putting my hand
in my pocket and trying not to be obvious about adjusting
my aroused cock. Amber and I have hooked up a couple of times
since she started working here. She's been a regular
customer for a long time, but couldn't get hired until
she turned 18 last month.

"Is that for me?" Amber asks, looking at the
bulge in my pants. She moves closer angling her body so no
one can see what she's doing and slides her hand over
my cock, squeezing it between her fingers.

"Yeah." I lie, "I was hoping we could get
together after work tonight."

"Oh, Mike." She says, "I can't. I've
got a big test tomorrow. I need to get right home."
She glances around the store and, lowering her voice says,
"it's not busy right now, Jason and Debra can
handle it. Why don't you help me put these books in the

I follow her to the stockroom, which is deserted this time
of night. She leads me to a secluded spot between two rows
of shelving and while unbuckling my belt says, "I
can't leave you like this. Besides, I owe you after
what you did to me Saturday night!" Smiling, she quickly
kisses me on the lips, drops to her knees and pulls my Dockers
and boxers down in one smooth motion.

"You don't owe me anything." I say. "I
thoroughly enjoyed it."

"Well, I plan on thoroughly enjoying this too."
She says, smiling up at me. "But the orgasm ratio had
to be three to one in my favor."

Amber is a young, very enthusiastic lover. She loses herself
in complete abandonment during sex, which is part of the
reason she came so many times the other night. Now, as she
runs her tongue up and down the length of my cock, I close
my eyes flashing on her sexy teenage body. She has small
firm tits with puffy pink areolas and eraser-like nipples.
A light patch of red pubic hair surrounds her tight little
pussy and her firm round ass makes you want to cream just
looking at it.

I open my eyes just as she slips her mouth over the end of my
cock. While caressing my balls with one hand she wraps her
other hand around the base of my cock, pumping it in and out
of her mouth. She's creating a steady rhythm with her
sucking and using her tongue to lick just under my cock head.
The entire sensation is incredible and I start thrusting
my hips forward matching her rhythm, while watching the
door to make sure we're not interrupted.

I've never done anything like this and the excitement
of a blowjob in the stockroom is driving me close to my climax.
Amber pumps faster, stroking and sucking my cock and playing
with my balls. I dig my fingers into her red hair and pull
her head towards me, trying to drive my cock farther into
her mouth. She looks up at me, lets go of my cock and slides
her lips all the way down to the base of my shaft. I can feel
the tension building in my balls as my cock enters the back
of her throat. I'm getting close and I close my eyes
again. Suddenly, in my mind, I'm lying on my bed and
the sexy black woman I just met is kneeling between my legs,
her massive brown breasts with their hard black nipples
are brushing against my thighs as she deep throats my cock.
She pulls her lips back along my cock, stroking faster,
sucking harder and flicking her tongue against the underside
of my cock. Our eyes lock and I watch her thick, black lips
glide down my cock and I buck my hips up to meet her. My legs
tense, I thrust my ass off the bed and start shooting streams
of cum deep in her throat in quick jerky motions. Nearly
losing my balance I grab the nearby shelf to keep from falling
over. Looking down, it's Amber again stroking and
sucking and swallowing my cum. When she's sucked every
drop of cum from me, she let's my cock slip from her lips
and stands up.

"Wow! That was amazing!" I say. "I really
needed that."

"You are amazing and that was intense!" Making
a show of licking her lips. "You really came hard and
I really enjoyed it, but we'd better get back. I'll
go out first, I want to get a coke." She says, smacking
her lips as she leaves the stockroom. While I'm pulling
up my pants, I'm already wondering if my fantasy woman
is still in the store. If I ever get a chance to live out that
fantasy, I'm pretty sure I won't be thinking about
Amber when I cum in the her mouth.

Yes! She's still looking at sexuality books as I exit
the stockroom. I figure I might as well take a chance; gorgeous
women flaunting their sexual needs don't come along

"I'm getting ready to go. Did you find what you
were looking for?" I ask her just as matter-of-factly
as her original request.

"I'm still looking. You have a nice evening and
thanks for your help." She says, dismissing me.

"Look, it's none of my business." I say,
stepping closer to her, trying not to get flustered by her
immense beauty. "But a sexy woman like you shouldn't
have to fend for herself in these matters."

"You're right." She says sharply. "It
is none of your business." She's looking at a
book entitled How to Have an Orgasm Whenever You Want. She
looks at me, her eyes soften and she smiles. "Thank
you for your help, Mike. Now why don't you go home and
let me finish browsing, okay?"

"Okay." I say, apologizing, but not ready to
give up yet. "I work here part-time so if there's
ever anything I can help you with, " I say, "I'm
here most nights until nine."

"I'll mark it in my planner." She smiles,
shaking her head and going back to her reading. I look back
one more time at her perfectly round ass and wonder why a
sexy woman like her needs books on orgasms.

I think about her all through my classes the next day, hoping
to see her again in the bookstore. I work my regular shift
from five to nine and it's pretty uneventful except
for helping a voluptuous blonde, in a scoop neck blouse,
trying to find a novelization of a current chick flick.
I start to fantasize about fucking her brains out and then
realize someone has already beaten me to it.

About eight o'clock my fantasy woman walks in and goes
directly to the sexuality section. She's wearing
a white pinstriped blouse tucked into a black skirt and
I'm getting aroused just watching her walk. She strides
confidently, with just enough swing in her hips to draw
my eyes to her undulating ass cheeks. Her long lovely legs
give her a dancers gracefulness as she navigates the aisles.

Standing at the customer service desk, I suppress the urge
to go right over to her. I can't suppress other urges
and I hope it's not obvious. Trying to decide how best
to approach her, I watch as she flips pages of books and imagine
what her dark brown ass looks like naked under her tight,
form-fitting skirt. I can almost feel my hands cupping
her firm flesh and squeezing her ass cheeks. I catch her
looking at me several times and each time she quickly looks
down at her book. I take that as a good sign and finally walk
over to her.

"Hi." I say. "It's good to see you
again. Although, that probably means you still haven't
found what you need."

"Hi Mike." She answers. "No, not really.
You're right about there being a lot of books. It's
just... I don't know. I'm looking for an answer
that doesn't need batteries." She laughs and
the pinstripes on her blouse distract me as they curve around
her sizable breasts. Her high collar blouse with one open
button reveals more of her smooth chocolate skin than was
visible last night. I force myself to look her in the eyes;
their exotic, almond shape making that very easy.

"It shouldn't be that way." I say softly,
moving closer to her." Maybe you're not considering
the right question."

"What question is that?" She asks sarcastically.
"You mean like, why am I even discussing this with
a skinny, young white boy in a bookstore who's trying
to pseudo psychoanalyze me?"

"No, That's a different question." I laugh.
"But maybe you do need someone to talk to about this
and you could do a lot worse than me."

"I could?" She asks smiling at me. Her smile
seems to light up her whole face and her eyes sparkle as she
raises her already high eyebrows in a questioning manner.

"Yeah." I say smiling. "You could call
Dr. Phil."

Laughing, she says, "Well maybe we should just get
Oprah to do a book club selection on it."

"That would be great!" I say, laughing with
her. "Seriously, I'd love to just sit down over
a cup of coffee and get to know you. I don't even know
your name." She's staring at me quizzically.
"What do you say?" I ask, "I get off in a
few minutes and you'll get a free latte out of it."

"I don't know." She says, looking at her
watch. "I really should be getting home."

"Half an hour." I counter. "What can it

"Okay." She finally agrees. "Half an
hour but I pay for my own latte." We agree to meet at
a nearby Starbucks instead of going to the cafe in the bookstore.
We order separately and choose a small table in the corner
that affords only modest privacy.

"My name is Cynthia Emry. She says offering her hand.
My friends call me Cyn."

"Nice to meet you." I respond, shaking her hand.
"I'm Mike Judd." I linger holding her hand,
enjoying the touch of her smooth skin. "Since your
friends call you Cyn, I suppose you'll want me to call
you Miss Emry?" I say chuckling, as she pulls her hand

"Mrs. Emry. But no, call me Cyn." She says, taking
a drink. "How long have you worked at the bookstore?"
She's sitting back appraising me while she sips her
latte, her firm, round tits pushing against the cotton
material of her blouse. She crosses her legs and her skirt
rides half way up her thigh, exposing more of her smooth,
brown skin. I force myself to look in her eyes rather than
stare at her beautiful legs.

"About two years. It's a perfect job while I'm
in school and I get a great discount on my textbooks. What
do you do, Cyn." I love the sound of her name. Cynfull,
I think.

"I'm a management recruiter. I work for a consulting
firm headquartered in New York. I work out of my house so
I can live anywhere and this is where my husband's job
brought us."

"And what does your husband do?" Her face captivates
me. With only light makeup complementing her already gorgeous
skin tone, she looks more like a glamour model than a management

"He's a minister. We go where the church sends
us." She says, looking intently for a reaction from
me. I don't disappoint her.

"That explains a lot." I say, immediately regretting
it when I see her eyes flare up.

"It explains nothing!" She yells, and then
quickly lowers her voice. "You don't know anything
about me or my husband." She fumes, through clenched
teeth. "You college kids think you know everything!
You don't know shit!" She stands up, getting
ready to leave.

"Wait! I'm really sorry." I stammer, contritely.
"That was a stupid thing to say. It wasn't really
a statement about your husband, Cyn. It's more reflective
of my own bias against organized religion and all the hypocrisy
that goes with it." I say, trying to explain. "I
said it without thinking, okay? I'm sorry. Please."
I plead, gesturing towards her chair. "Please, sit
back down." She does and slowly her face relaxes but
my eyes are drawn to her chest, still heaving from her anger.
Her tits swelling and pushing against the pinstripes create
small gaps between the buttons with each breath she takes.

"I'm sorry I got so upset." She says, finally.
"You just seem to think you know all about my problems
and you don't. My husband is a good man. He's a wonderful
father and a powerful minister." I notice she doesn't
say a great lover. I wonder if he even notices her luscious

"I'm sure he is." I answer. We're silent
for a minute.

"So, how old are you anyway, Mr. Know-It-All college
boy?" Cyn asks, smiling curiously.

"Twenty." I answer unapologetically. "How
old are you?"

"Thirty-two. Happily married with two kids and a
successful career, thank you." She declares proudly.
"So where do you get off trying to solve my sexual problems?
You're too young to have enough experience to give
you any credibility." She's back on the attack
and I react again before I think.

"Funny. I was thinking you're old enough to have
already experienced some things you're obviously
only reading about."

"You don't know what I'm experiencing and
what I'm not!" She's fuming again and talking
through her teeth.

"Hey, don't get mad at me. You're the one
looking through orgasm books. I'm just trying to help."
I retort.

"Yeah by hitting on me!" She rants. "Is
that what you do at that bookstore, watch for women to come
in looking for sexual self-help books and then offer your
services?" She's really on a tirade now. "You
think I don't get better offers than you all the time.
I'm a black woman working in a professional capacity
in a mostly white company. I get hit on more than the blonde
bimbos answering the phones. Everyone including the president
of the company is trying to live out his black woman fantasy.
I've seen it all before. No thank you!"

"When did I hit on you?" I challenge. "When?"
I repeat. "I thought we had a cool banter going and
that you'd be a fun person to get to know, so that's
what I'm trying to do. I didn't force you to come
back in the store tonight when you knew I'd be working
and I didn't tie you up and drag you to Starbucks. So
if you don't want to be here, leave! No one is stopping

She walks out but instead of gazing at her luscious ass,
I'm gazing into my coffee, mistakenly believing that
I'll never see her again.

I relive that conversation all the way home, kicking myself
for the way I handled it. I ignored every principle I know
from my psych classes about using active listening to defuse
anger. If I had only listened, asked questions and encouraged
her to talk maybe...oh fuck it! I've only seen her twice,
so what if she's the most enticing woman I've ever

That night I lie in bed replaying the two encounters I've
had with Cyn and marvel at how quickly and explosively she
flips from teasing to anger. I don't know if this woman
is bi-polar or just wound too tight from her sexual frustration
and feeling guilty about it. I'd love to relieve her
tension and see what happens. I think about how stunning
she looks and my cock hardens as I visualize her dark brown
skin, her flat stomach and the sensuous curves of her tits
and ass. Picturing her naked, I reach down and start stroking
my fully aroused cock. I wonder how dark and thick her nipples
really are and how aroused she'll get when I suck on
them. I imagine myself between her dark brown legs lapping
up her pussy juice as she achieves her first multiple orgasm.
When I think about fucking her doggy style, slapping against
her firm, black ass, I shoot my load across my stomach. I
fall asleep dreaming of her licking it off and cleaning
up my cock with her tongue.

A week later, near the end of my shift, I'm cashiering
when I see Cyn enter the store and look around. She walks
over and speaks to Jason, who's manning the customer
service desk. He points to me at the cash register, she looks
over and our eyes meet. I smile, give my customer his change
and log off the register. Walking towards Cyn, I notice
she's dressed more casually tonight in a light yellow
sleeveless blouse and jeans. The top clings in all the right
places, accentuating the fullness of her tits, and the
jeans show off her shapely hips in ways that her business
skirts couldn't. Her tits bounce lightly as she walks
up to me.

"Starbucks?" She asks, raising her eyebrows
questioningly. "The latte's are on me."

"Sure!" I say, maybe too enthusiastically.
"I'll be done her in about ten minutes."
I blurt out, checking my watch. "I'll meet you
there." Without answering she turns and walks towards
the door. I'm entranced by the seesawing action of
her ass cheeks inside her tight fitting jeans. They've
ridden up in the crack of her ass and the stretched material
displays the perfectly round shape of each cheek as she
walks. She doesn't have the back shelf kind of ass like
some black women, hers is more of a round bubble and I'm
dying to squeeze it.

"I owe you an apology." She says as she stirs
her coffee, not looking at me. "I let my own frustrations
make me angry and I took it out on you." She looks up
at me with those provocative eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No!" I counter. "It's me who owes
you an apology. I said some things that were really out of
line. I was presumptuous and rude and... and..."
I've imagined this conversation all week and now,
just being this close to her, I'm tongue-tied. "I'm
just so glad you're here and I'm sorry about before."

She laughs, "Okay, we're both sorry. Let's
start over." She sips her tall Sumatra and I take a
drink of my Caramel Machiatto.

Great! Now, remembering my active listening skills, I
say sincerely, "You mentioned your frustrations.
Do you want to talk about it?"

"You cut right to the chase, don't you?"
She asks, smiling. God I love her smile. "The thing
I said before, Mike, about you being young and inexperienced.
I really meant that. I'm not comfortable discussing
my sex life with you."

Don't argue, I tell myself. "I am young."
I concede. Use questions. "What if I was more experienced
than you think, would you feel differently then?"

"What do you mean?" She leans forward placing
her arms on the table in front of her, clearly interested
in my answer. Her arms create a cradle for her tits and I'm
trying not to stare at the considerable amount of coffee
colored cleavage bulging over the scoop neckline of her

"Well, what if I'm more knowledgeable and skillful
in the art of lovemaking than you might expect for someone
my age." I ask, trying to keep her engaged in this discussion,
while stealing glimpses of her sexy tits, jammed tightly
against each other and overflowing from the top of her cinnamon
colored bra. I lean forward to afford us more privacy and
my face is only inches from hers. It takes all my willpower
not to drop my eyes down to her exposed cleavage. Her scent
is breathtaking and my cock is hardening, as I continue
to explain. "During my first year at college I rented
a room off campus. My landlady was an attractive 43 year-old
woman who invited me to... um, partake in some extra-curricular
activities. Let's just say, she became my unofficial
tutor and taught me some amazing things about how to satisfy
a woman." I'm smiling, but it looks like I've
done it again.

"Is that what this is about?" She clamors, pulling
back from the table, her tits bouncing as she fumes. "You
got the taste of an older woman who needed your attention
to make her feel young and now you're out to offer your
services to other despondent older women? Well, mister,
this is one older woman who doesn't need your mercy
fuck!" She's starting to stand up again.

"Mercy fuck?" I sputter, incredulously. "Is
that what you think this is? Oh, Cyn, you couldn't be
farther from the truth. You are the most ravishing woman
I've ever met. You're smart, sexy, funny, and
beautiful. I haven't stopped thinking about you.
I dream about you. I fantasize about you. Mercy fuck? It
would be you showing the mercy, if that's what this
is." Oh shit! I think I just blew it again. When will
I learn to keep my thoughts to myself?

Surprisingly, she slowly sits back down, staring at me.
My admission of how I feel about her is hanging in the air
between us.

"Ravishing? Who says ravishing anymore?"
She laughs. More quietly, she says. "Do you really
fantasize about me, Mike?'

"I couldn't wait to see you again, Cyn. I was certain
that I never would. You can't imagine how excited I
am just sitting here talking with you and how scared I am
that I'll blow it again and you'll never come back."
I take her hand between my two hands and look her in the eyes.
"Yes, I fantasize about you. I fantasize that I'm
the one who finally makes you feel what you ought to be feeling."
I look down at our hands. The contrast of her caramel colored
hand between my two pale looking hands conjures up a vision
of our bodies, black and white, entwined in the throes of
passion. She pulls her hand back breaking the spell, sits
back and looks at me.

"My husband, " she begins slowly. "He's
a very religious man. He's not like one of those hypocritical
televangelists that you hear about. His religion is all
consuming. He was raised to resist temptation. All temptations.
In ten years of marriage I've never seen him falter.
He doesn't smoke. He doesn't drink or gamble and
he especially resists temptations of the flesh. Even my
flesh." She sighs. "He believes that God made
sex for procreation not recreation." She pauses,
sipping her coffee.

I don't say a word. Even though I don't believe
for a minute that any guy, including her husband, is going
to be satisfied getting laid twice in ten years of marriage.
While Cyn is harboring her frustrations, I lay odds that
her husband is ministering to his female congregations'
most urgent needs, spiritual and otherwise. Quick learner
that I am, I don't voice these thoughts.

We sit quietly for a few minutes, neither of us knowing how
to move the conversation forward. I'm especially
concerned that anything I say will scare her away. Finally,
she leans forward conspiratorially and says, "You
really slept with your landlady your first year in college?"

"Yeah, I learned a lot, too." I laugh. I don't
tell her how much I'd love to show her what I learned.
"You know, at orientation they told us that our education
doesn't stop when we walk out of class each day. Boy
were they right!" Her deep laughter shakes her whole
body and she catches me staring at her tits as they bounce
up and down.

"I really should be going." She abruptly stands
up, somewhat flustered. "It really is nice talking
with you Mike. I'm glad we didn't leave things
the way they were."

"I'll walk you to your car." I say, standing
with her.

She drives a late model Toyota Camry and as she presses the
remote, I ask, "So Cyn, can we have coffee again sometime?
Please." I open the door for her and as she moves between
the open door and the car she leans forward and kisses me
quickly on my lips then slides into her seat.

"I'd like that, Mike." She says, looking
up at me as I lean on her car door. "Just don't get
your hopes up. I enjoy talking with you but I'm not ready
to play out your fantasy. I'm a happily married woman."
As she closes her door, we both know that happy is a relative
term and her confession about her sexual frustration lingers
long after she drives off.

My cock is still hard and I'm not looking forward to
another night of jacking off in bed. I call Amber's
cell phone.

"Hello" She answers on the second ring.

"Hey" I say. "You still at work?"
"Just leaving." She says. "You?"
"I'm wondering what you're doing and if
you want to come over for awhile. You know, finish what we
started in the stockroom last week." I tell her, hoping
she'll help me relieve the tension that's keeping
my cock hard.

"I can't. I wish I could, but I have to pack for
my trip." She says and I remember she's visiting
colleges with her parents for the next few days. After a
pause, she asks, "Where are you?"

"Just down the street. I went for coffee." I

"Why don't you come by here for a minute."
She asks teasingly. "I bet we could do something quickly
before I have to go home."

"I'll be right there." We talk for a few
more minutes and I'm just hanging up as I turn into the
bookstore parking lot.

She's parked in the back in a relatively secluded spot
and I pull in next to her. She looks very hot in a light green
button up blouse and a tan pleated skirt. As I'm getting
out of my car she wraps her arms around my neck and starts
kissing me on the lips and pushing her tongue in my mouth.
I run my hands up and down her back and squeeze her firm young
ass cheeks while she grinds her pussy against my hard cock.
I break off the kiss and unbutton her blouse.

"I want to see your tits." I say, unhooking the
front fastener of her bra, freeing her firm white mounds.
She shakes them back and forth playfully before I lean down
and suck one nipple in my mouth and roll the other one between
my finger and thumb.

"Mmmm, I'm glad you came by, Mike." She
says, running her fingers through my hair. Keeping my mouth
and my hand on her teen sized tits, I slide my other hand up
the inside of her thigh, under her skirt. I feel moisture
on the front of her thong and push the material between her
pussy lips, stroking my finger up and down. Amber spreads
her legs and pushes back against my finger. I slip two fingers
in the side of her thong and they glide easily up inside her
eager, young pussy. I finger fuck her and suck on her tits,
while she leans against my car moaning softly.

"Wait." She says, pushing back from me just
as car lights head toward us then turn away into the adjacent
shopping center. Her blouse is open, her bra is dangling
at her sides, her pink nipples are hard and her face is flush.
She smiles at me as she reaches up under her skirt, bends
over and strips off her thong. She holds it up to my nose and
I take a deep breath.

"You can taste me next time. "She says, pulling
her thong away and kissing me. "Right now, I want you
to fuck me." She puts her thong in my shirt pocket,
turns around, spreads her legs and bends over my trunk.
I lift the back of her skirt exposing her perfect, white
ass cheeks and her shiny, wet pussy lips. I drop my pants,
freeing my raging hard cock and slide it into her in one smooth

"Oh Fuck! That feels so good! Fuck me, Mike! Fuck me
hard!" She says, as she stretches her arms out across
my trunk, pressing her bare tits against the cold metal
of my car, and humps her ass back to meet my strokes. I slam
into her, pushing her against the car and slapping my body
against her white ass. I close my eyes and it's Cyn I'm
fucking, watching my white cock disappear between her
thick black pussy lips. She's on all fours on my bed
with her ass pushed back to the edge while I stand next to
the bed hammering my cock into her pussy. Her chocolate
colored tits with their thick black nipples hang down,
shaking back and forth with each thrust of my cock.

I feel like I'm going to explode, but I hold back, trying
a trick I learned from my landlady. She called it the "Rule
of Ten". I pull the head of my cock almost all the way
out of Cyn's pussy and hold her dark brown hips with
my hands so she can't push back against me. I stand there
with my cock just barely in her pussy while I count to nine
and then slam it deeply into her and hold it there. I pull
back again leaving just the head between her thick, wet
lips while I count to eight this time before slamming into
her twice in quick succession. I continue the sequence
counting to seven and pounding three times, then counting
to six before taking four hard strokes, etc. The counting
keeps me focused on something else, while the teasing drives
her crazy. When I get down to holding my cock out against
her lips for the count of two and slamming into her eight
times, her pussy is drenched and she's pushing hard
against my hands, trying to get my cock deeper into her burning
pussy. Finally, with the last count of one, I just keep pounding
her sopping wet pussy with my very hard cock.

"Yes! Keep fucking me hard like that! Ohhh Fuck! I'm
cumming!" Amber's voice breaks the spell and
once again I'm in the bookstore parking lot slamming
my cock into the white assed, sexy teenager sprawled across
my car. She thrusts back against my cock and I feel her pussy
muscles tighten as she rides her first wave of orgasm. I
push my cock deep insider her, tense my legs, rise up on the
balls of my feet and shoot load after load of cum into her
tight, young pussy.

I leave my spent cock inside her pulsating pussy while we
both catch our breath. Finally, I pull out and Amber stands
up, turns around and kisses me passionately on the lips.

"Wow! That was intense!" She says while fastening
her bra and buttoning up her blouse. "Someday you'll
have to tell me who to thank for the great fuck!" She

"What are you talking about?" I ask, buckling
my belt.

"Look, Mike. I'm young, but not stupid."
She says, kissing me on the lips. "The last couple
of times we've been together, you've been distracted
but your fucking was incredible. Your mind is obviously
on someone else while you're fucking me."

"Amber, I..." I start to talk, but she puts her
fingers to my lips.

"Mike. It's fine. We're not exclusive and
I don't mind being a receptacle for your fantasy, especially
when I get fucked like this. I'm using you as much as
you're using me. Too bad, she doesn't know what
she's missing. If you need a letter of recommendation
or anything..." She says laughing.

"Amber, you're the best!" I say kissing
her and squeezing her ass cheeks, still bare under her skirt.

"Apparently not, but it's okay." She says,
pulling her thong out of my pocket and getting in her car
without putting it on. "Thanks, Mike. See you next
week." A few days later I'm called to the phone
at work.

"This is Mike, may I help you?" I say into the

"Yes. This is Cynthia Emry and I'm calling to
inquire about the book I ordered." Cyn's voice
sounds so formal.

"You're calling from home and can't talk,
right?" I answer.

"That's correct."

"Let me guess, " I say. "You want to meet
after work?" I'm so excited she called that I
can barely contain myself.

"Yes, that's why I'm calling." She
responds stiffly.

"Starbucks? Buy your own lattes about 9:15?"

"That will be fine. I'll pick it up in a little

"Just so I have the title correct, that's the
fantasy book you're looking for this time not the how
to book, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct." She sounds like
she's stifling a laugh.

"I have it right here. It's titled, Tickling
her Fancy Without Batteries." I'm almost laughing

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you."

"No. Thank you!" Half an hour later I'm
sitting in Starbucks waiting for her, having already ordered
for both of us. When she walks in, heads turn; she's
that beautiful. She's wearing another sleeveless
blouse, beige this time with a scoop neckline, a brown corduroy
jacket and her ass hugging jeans.

"What?" She asks as I continue to stare at her
after she sits down.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
I ask. "Every person in the place stopped what they
were doing when you walked in here." Her face darkens
into a blush. The first one I've seen on her.

"Thank you." She says. "That's a
nice way to start."

"I'm glad you called." I tell her. "I
didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

"I didn't know if you would either." She
sighs. "This isn't easy for me."

I wait for her to speak again. She's nervous and appears
to be working up to saying something. I sip my latte and wait.

"Mike, you want to help me solve my problems, don't
you?" She asks, tentatively.

"Absolutely. At least I'd like to try."
I answer honestly.

"I bet you would." She laughs. "What I'm
struggling with is, why you? With all the opportunities
I've had for something like this, why should it be you?"

"First, because I know why you're doing it."
I answer. "Those other guys want to live out their
own fantasies; I want to help you achieve yours. Second,
with me, you're in control. I don't know your phone
number or where you live or if Cynthia Emry is even your real
name. You decide when or if we meet and you decide if you want
to stop. And finally, we have no connection. I'm not
going to cause trouble for you at work. I bet you can't
say that about anyone else. This is all about you, Cyn."

"Wow! You're really good!" She says, surprised.
"Have you ever considered commissioned sales? I'm
recruiting for a few positions."

"I've been thinking about various positions
since I met you, but I can honestly say that none of them have
to do with sales." I tell her, smiling.

"I'm sure." She says smiling back. "Tell
me about your fantasy, Mike."

"Which fantasy is that?" I ask teasingly.

"Your Halle Berry fantasy!" she laughs. "Which
fantasy do you think I mean? How many fantasies are you harboring,
anyway?" She asks.

"Wow, my fantasy, huh? You sure you want to hear it?"
I reach to take her hand, but hesitate. I don't want
to scare her. But I needn't have worried because she
reaches across to meet mine. We hold hands for a minute before
she sits back studying me again.

"Yes, I think I'd really like to hear how you fantasize
about me." She says earnestly.

"Okay, it starts slowly with just talking and holding
hands." I tell her. "I want us to do this right.
It's all about foreplay. Sex isn't just physical,
it's mental too."

"Thank you. Dr. Kinsey." She laughs.

"Okay, just the fantasy, not the sex lesson."
I say, laughing with her. "After talking and kissing
for a while, I'll start the gradual process of undressing
you." I look her over, again imagining what she'll
look like naked. "It'll be fun." I almost
whisper. "I'll undress you very slowly, studying
every inch of your body as it's progressively revealed
to me."

"You look like you just undressed me in your mind,
how did I look?" She smiles.

"Like a goddess. I answer. And that's how I'll
treat you. I want to worship at the alter of Cynthia."

"It's Cyn. Please, Mike, don't ever call
me Cynthia." She says, clearly upset. "My husband
calls me Cynthia. He's the only one who does, so...just
don't, okay?"

"Sure, sorry." This woman has more hot buttons
than a microwave oven. "Anyway, you'll be completely
naked and I'll stay clothed while I slowly explore
your entire body. Never having seen you, or..." I'm
searching for the right phrase that won't offend her,
"any woman of color naked, it'll be a completely
new experience for me."

"Woman of color? Oh that's precious!"
She laughs again. "Please don't be politically
correct, with me, Mike. I'm black, just plain black."

"Okay." I say, but there is nothing plain about
her. "I've never been with a black woman before
and I'm sure I'll be enchanted by your beauty.
Now, can I finish my fantasy?" I laugh with her.

"Okay, I won't interrupt you again. Where were
you, oh yes, I'm naked and you're enchanted, right."
She's smiling, but obviously enjoying herself.

"Next a foot massage and maybe a hand massage, to relax
you. Have you ever had a hand or foot massage while lying
naked on a bed?" I lean forward waiting for her reply.

"No." She whispers. "But it sounds nice."

"Oh, it is. Trust me. Imagine yourself naked; lying
on your stomach, completely vulnerable and the only parts
of you I'll touch are your hands and your feet. It can
be quite erotic." I pause and sip my drink. "When
you are sufficiently relaxed I'll massage your back,
your ass and your legs. I have to tell you that based on what
I've seen with your clothes on, your ass is going to
distract me for a long time. I can't wait to touch it,
kiss it, run my hands over it and massage it for you. When
I've thoroughly explored your backside, I'll
turn you over and do the same on your front."

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Man this is hot keep it going!!!


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