I stood watching in absolute amazement at the woman on the bed getting fucked. She was
sandwiched between two black men with one cock in her ass and one in her pussy. She was
wailing like a banshee. Another black man stood beside them, his hard black cock ready to
swing into action. As I watched them I thought about how it all came to that Moment in
time.
***
The first time I saw her was at a neighborhood picnic. I remember that I didn’t pay much
attention to her on that occasion. There were a lot of people there and she kind of got
lost in the crowd.
They have a couple of picnics a year in the small park at the end of our street. She
and her husband and two teenage girls have lived in the neighborhood a long time. I was a
newcomer to the area. While all the houses are nice, mine was the smallest as befitting a
new bachelor. I became a new bachelor because my wife, Sharon, decided that she needed to
rediscover herself and left me to go grow grapes in California with a bunch of other nuts.
California, the land of fruits and nuts.
I’m a writer of novels and I wanted a house in the suburbs for the peace and quiet
it offered. Since I do all of my work at home peace and quiet are essential for me. My
real name is Tom Harper and I write under the name of Buck James. I write adventure novels
that frankly are only a notch above trash, but it brings in a lot of money, so I don’t
knock it.
The second time I saw her was in the park early one morning. I had been writing all
night to meet a publishing deadline and I took a stroll to clear my fuzzed-up head. She
was sitting in one of the swings and apparently her mind was a long way off because I was
nearly right beside her when she saw me. I could tell from the way she jumped that I had
surprised and scared her.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I live over there,” I added
pointing to my house.
“Oh, you scared the crap out of me,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “Yes,
you’re the writer, aren’t you?” I admitted that I was and I didn’t admit that if I ever
knew her name, I forgot it.
“You seemed to be a million miles away,” I said taking the swing beside her. On
closer inspection I could see that she was a pretty woman, but a troubled one. I guessed
her age at early forty or maybe even younger. She did look younger when she smiled. Her
strawberry blond hair was nearly shoulder length and she was covered with freckles.
Since my ex-wife’s sudden departure I had avoided women, but I found myself thinking
how much fun it would be to connect the dots on her. Okay, I was horny and she looked good
to me even being a tiny bit over-weight. She wasn’t fat, just a tad plump, but she carried
it well. I know because I watched her walk away. The term “pleasingly plump” came to mind.
I casually asked around and found out her name was Lucy McGill. The old woman who
lived next door to me was a wealth of neighborhood data and she didn’t mind sharing her
knowledge. Usually she insisted on it. I also found out that Lucy had two children, two
girls, one an older teenager and the other a few years younger. I found it strange that
it did not detract from her charm or her appeal for me.
When I finish a book there is always a period of time that I have a lost,
disconnected feeling. I’m sort of at loose ends, so to speak. That lost feeling stays
until I start the next one. I was in this limbo state when I saw her for the third time.
Lucy was just entering the park and I didn’t want her to think I was following her
so I went up a block and cut through a backyard and entered the park at the other end. I
felt silly, but I wanted her to think I was already in the park. I made it to the swings
before she did.
“Good morning, Lucy,” I said when she got close. “If we’re not careful people will
think we have something going on, meeting like this.” She smiled at me and took the other
swing.
“It’s not likely that anyone would believe that a young strapping lad like you and
an old bag like me had anything going on.”
“Strapping, maybe; young, not so much,” I replied. “I don’t think I would use words
like old or bag to describe you, either.”
“If that was a compliment, thanks,” she said giving me a side-long look. “Let me
see…if the neighborhood rumor mongers have it right you are thirty-two. Sorry, but that
puts you in the young category.”
“The rumor mongers have been reading the dust covers of my earlier books,” I said
smiling at her. “I’ve been writing a long time, and I’m forty-one, thank you.”
“Ah, I see,” she said smiling back. “You don’t look your age…should I call you
Buck?”
“No, that’s a pseudonym I use. My name is Tom. Buck James doesn’t exist except in my
imagination and on the cover of books.”
“No,” she said looking at me with a half smile. “I like Buck, so I think that’s
what I shall call you. I like how it rolls off my tongue and it congers up a vision of a
real he-man.” I didn’t point out that you didn’t use your tongue to say Buck. “You can
call me Labelle,” she added. I wondered where she came up with that name, but I didn’t
ask.
That was how it began for Buck and Labelle. We met in the park several times a week
all that spring, weather permitting, and talked about everything under the sun; my
writing, her family, my ex-wife, and her husband.
“Buck, why are you staring at my shoulder?” she asked one morning in late spring. We
were in our spot on the swings. Damn, I had been caught daydreaming about connecting her
freckles. In my mind’s eye she was naked on my bed and I was using a marker to connect the
dots.
“There was a bee flying around and I was worried that it would land on you,” I said
aware of how lame it sounded. “What were you saying?”
“I asked you why your wife left you,” she said giving me a funny look. “I know
that’s being nosy, but you don’t seem like the kind of man a woman in her right mind would
leave.” With the exception of our false names and my hidden desire to connect her dots, I
had always been perfectly honest with her. I didn’t see any reason to start lieing now.
“A lot of reasons, I guess,” I answered. “I get wrapped up in writing and tended to
exclude her for weeks at a time. Not a good recipe for a happy marriage. That coupled with
the fact Sharon thought I was kinky was more than enough to send her packing.”
“Kinky? You? Kinky, how?” She suddenly looked startled. “I’m sorry. That question
went across the line, didn’t it?”
“I wasn’t aware we had drawn lines, Labelle,” I said. “No, my ex and I didn’t see
eye to eye on the subject of sex. I like sex…a lot of sex, and she wasn’t into it all that
much. It took a long time for me to talk her into even trying oral sex. She didn’t care
all that much for it, in any form; me giving to her, or vice versa. I wanted sex at least
once a day and she didn’t even want to consider it but once a week, if that often. I
wanted to try new things and she didn’t even want to do the old things.”
“Damn,” Labelle said after my speech. “I should be so lucky. Ron doesn’t want sex
anytime. If I didn’t insist, he wouldn’t even do me once a month. What the hell was she
thinking?”
“Different libido, I guess. Some people have a high drive and some don’t. I have to
wonder why we got married in the first place. We certainly weren’t compatible in bed.”
“Do you date?” she asked looking at me. “I mean with your high sex drive I would
think you would have at least one lady friend if not a whole bunch of them.”
“Not at the Moment, I don’t,” I answered. “Frankly, going out to find a lady seems
like more trouble than it’s worth. I thought about running an ad.”
“Saying what? Wanted, a kinky woman for a kinky man?” I liked it that she was
teasing me.
“Something like that, I guess. Maybe, ‘Wanted, female for fun and games. Nothing
serious just nitty-gritty, down and dirty sex. Must be available every day.’”
“So you don’t want to get serious. What kind of fun and games?”
“Everything, even connect the dots.” Oops, that slipped out. When she didn’t pick up
on it, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Buck, what would you want her to look like?” she asked.
“Look like? Hell, Labelle, looks aren’t that important. I mean, I don’t want a woman
who looks like an aardvark or one that’s enormous, but other than that, it doesn’t make
any difference. Hell, a woman with a couple extra pounds is just more to get hold of.”
“I see,” she said slowly not looking in my direction. “What new things?”
“Huh? New things?”
“You said you wanted to try new things. What kind of new things?” she laughed. “Are
you sure we don’t have lines?”
“No, no lines,” I said laughing also. “For one thing I suggested anal sex and Sharon
went ballistic. After that, I didn’t get any sex for a month. Since she didn’t seem to
want sex with me I suggested bringing in another partner. That didn’t fly all that well
either.”
“You suggested bringing in another man? Or was it another woman?”
“Another man was my first idea,” I said. “I got a resounding, ‘no fucking way’.
Later I suggested another woman. Actually I didn’t think she would go for that any more
than another man, but she fooled me. She didn’t beat me up over that suggestion.”
“Did you get another woman?”
“Actually, Sharon found another woman for us. Lisa worked in the same office with
Sharon.”
“How did that work for you?”
“Not so good for me, but damned great for Sharon,” I admitted. “I was an extra,
unwanted third person. Lisa wasn’t as bi as Sharon indicated. Anytime I tried to get in on
the action I got hissed at. Mostly, I got to watch them and jack-off. That lasted until
Lisa and Sharon hauled ass to California.”
“I’m laughing,” Labelle said. “I’m sorry and I don’t mean to laugh at you, but it is
kind of funny.”
“Yeah, funny as hell,” I said. Actually it was funny now, but not so much at the
time. “The only good thing was Sharon left, got a divorce, and didn’t ask me for anything
except to be left alone.”
“Do you think she was a lesbian all along?” Labelle asked. I had thought about it a
lot and I concluded she may have been. I told Labelle that I thought so and asked her if
she had ever been with another woman. She didn’t answer for a few minutes.
“Yes, once,” she said after a while. “In college I had a girl-girl experience. Oh,
shit! Look at the time. I have to go. The girls are getting out at noon. Summer vacation
starts today. I’ll see you later, Buck.” She ran a few steps and looked back at me.
“Connect the dots, Buck? You are kinky.” She turned and ran across the park laughing as
she went. So she had picked up on it.
***
I didn’t see Labelle for a few days. She and her husband took the girls to his parents.
The girls were going to stay there for a month. Labelle was only gone for three days over
the weekend, but it seemed like two weeks to me. I missed her and our time together. It
was good to have someone to talk to.
I knew I wasn’t falling in love with Labelle, whatever that means, but I did have a
thing for her, whatever that means. To me, Labelle was five and a half feet of smoldering
sexuality that demanded exploring. I had gathered over the weeks that her husband was
suffering from some sort of male sexual dysfunction and hadn’t wanted sex for sometime.
Frankly, I felt Labelle was ripe for the plucking. Over the last two weeks our
conversation turned from casual chat to semi-serious flirting. Harmless to that point.
Once during our semi-serious discussions she mentioned she was fast approaching
forty years old. That was a surprise to me because she didn’t look a day over thirty. I
asked her about it and she told me all the women in her family looked younger than the
actual age. She told me her mother, who died in a automobile accident at fifty-five,
looked at least ten years younger than that.
On Tuesday the day Labelle was supposed to return from the trip I found myself
looking out my front window toward the park a lot. It was nearly noon when I saw her
going into the park. When I got close to the swings I saw she was wearing a white sundress
and was barefooted. I also saw two kids playing on the swings and another in a sandbox
near-by.
“I think this is the only thing I don’t like about summer,” she said to me when I
got close enough. “Kids are out of school and are all over my park.”
“Yeah, I see they are in my park, too,” I said. “Let’s go over to my house and we
can have a cup of coffee while you catch me up on your weekend.” I almost expected her to
say no, but she came with me without any hesitation.
“Telling about the weekend is easy enough to do,” she said as we walked. “The trip
was long and tiring. The girls fought and bickered every foot of the way while Ron drove
and didn’t say more than a dozen words. My in-laws have a big farm and I think the girls
were less excited this year than before about being there for so long. They are growing up
and there are no boys near the farm. The return trip was about the same, but quieter. How
was your weekend?”
“Boring,” I reported, “long, quiet, and very boring. I missed my buddy and I’m glad
you’re back.”
“Am I your buddy?” she asked. We were in my small kitchen waiting on the coffee to
make. I miss the days when coffee perked. I liked the sound and the aroma of perking
coffee. “Is that all I am, Buck?”
I felt I was on shaky ground, but I didn’t have a clue about how to respond. I fell
back on the truth as it had served me well in the past.
“Yeah, sure; my buddy that I really like spending time with. Maybe more than a
buddy, Labelle, but I don’t know how else to say it.”
“So you see me as a little plump housewife and someone you can talk to.” Damn, this
wasn’t going well at all.
“First of all, you aren’t just a little plump housewife to me. You aren’t plump.
Labelle, you are a pretty lady and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you,
because I am. I just didn’t want to mess anything up.”
“You think I’m attractive? If I answered your ad would you be interested?” I got up
and poured the coffee for us. She declined both cream and sugar. “Well, are you going to
answer me?” she said after I sat back down.
“I’m not sure I want to,” I answered honestly. “I’d hate to scare you off. If you
insist, then yes, I would be very interested. In fact, I wouldn’t even look at the other
nine hundred replies to the ad.”
“Get over yourself!” she said laughing. “You wouldn’t get more than two or three
hundred replies. You would get photos of lean, beautiful, young women. Nude photos and you
would forget all about me. You would forget all about my drooping old boobs when you got a
look at the young perky breasts.”
“Now, Labelle,” I said. “How can I forget about your breasts when I haven’t the
foggiest idea what they look like? How do you know I don’t like droopy tits?”
“No man likes droopy knockers,” Labelle said her smile fading. This was turning into
a serious discussion. I got up and went to her chair. I squatted down beside her and took
her face in both of my hands and kissed her lips.
For a Moment she didn’t respond then she did. I felt her mouth open slightly and I
inserted my tongue which she accepted readily. We kissed, swapping tongues, for nearly ten
minutes. We both were breathing hard.
“Come on, Labelle,” I said, getting to my feet and taking her hand.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“To my bed, where I’m going to give you the fucking you deserve.”
Labelle certainly wasn’t the first woman I fucked, but she was the first woman that
fucked me. For the first fifteen minutes I was nothing more than a tool for her to use,
and use me she did. She was insatiable, she was demanding, and she was a great fuck.
The next half an hour we fucked with more give and take. Labelle entered into the
second session with less assertiveness, but still with a great zeal for the act of
fucking. We fucked in every position known to man.
It was nearly four o’clock when Labelle got up, dressed, and started home. I lay on the
bed completely satisfied and utterly worn out.
“Hey, Labelle,” I called as she started out of the bedroom. “I forgot something.”
“Yes, I know,” she said looking back at me with a huge smile. “You didn’t connect
the dots, did you? I’ll see you tomorrow, Buck.”
“Here or the park?” I yelled.
“Here, of course. We would scare the children with what we’re doing,” she called
back. A Moment later I heard the front door close. Damn, what a woman.
***
That day was the beginning of a special affair. Yeah, I’m sure every affair is special,
but this was an extra special affair. For one thing, Labelle had gotten way behind in her
sex life and the scheming bitch was using me in an attempt to catch up. God bless her!
We still talked on a variety of subjects, but we did it mostly laying down. In the
beginning, Labelle didn’t vary much. The first fifteen or so minutes she was the aggressor
and suddenly as if some internal switch had been flipped she became a submissive, totally
willing to do anything I even hinted at.
After a couple of weeks she gradually lost all of her aggressive nature and she
would come to me as a submissive. She never lost her desire to do my bidding. I was living
my dream. I had a hot blooded woman who came to me every day for sex and she wanted to do
what I wanted. The heat we generated in my bedroom challenged my air conditioning system.
I thought it couldn’t get any better, but suddenly it did get a whole lot better.
The first thing that happened was Labelle’s two daughters called and asked if they
could stay another two weeks. Apparently the girls had discovered some neighbor boys. As
if that wasn’t enough, Ron, Labelle’s husband, had to go out of town for two weeks. I
couldn’t believe it! Eros must have been watching and decided to make everything even
better. He shot his arrow right into my ass, bless his unscrupulous heart. (It seems the
Romans borrowed Eros from the Greeks, changed his name to Cupid, and made him a nicer,
gentler being. I like the nasty-ass Eros much better)
All of a sudden, Labelle and I had two whole weeks all to ourselves. No more
uncoupling for her to run home to fix Ron’s dinner. Let the fun and games really begin!
Our two weeks of unbridled bliss started while Ron’s airplane was still within fifty
miles of our airport. Labelle delivered him to the departure gate, gave him a quick peck,
wished him a safe trip, and then violated all the traffic laws in the state getting back
to me. That was Sunday afternoon which we spent in bed with Labelle naked and me
connecting the dots. I used a washable marker, but we discovered it still takes a lot of
scrubbing to get it all off. I also discovered that scrubbing Labelle wasn’t a chore, it
was fun, too.
The first week was a week of more discoveries. Because of the fact there was no
hurry, Labelle sucked me to completion and swallow my cum. Of course she had sucked my
cock before, but apparently she didn’t mind wasting some semen since she knew we had lots
of time. I also discovered that Labelle loved anal sex.
I’ve always been under the impression that women just put up with being butt-fucked.
That none of them really liked it. Labelle lay that theory to rest. She really loved for
me to fuck her ass. The first time she initiated it. She got on her knees on the bed and
spread her ass cheeks.
“Fuck my ass, Buck,” she said breathlessly. “Shove your cock in my ass and let me
have it.” I did as she demanded and I was surprised when she had a big climax. She
clinched her ass and I thought she was going to squeeze my dick off. She had a couple more
orgasms while I pounded her ass.
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