“Go home and take care of whatever you need to do. If you have to evacuate, call our toll-free number and let us know your status. Otherwise, we’ll see you back here on Tuesday. Have a good Labor Day weekend.” Although spoken sincerely and with good intentions, those words rang hollowly upon my ears as I prepared to head home early on Friday.
As if a good weekend was about to happen. After all, thousands of dollars worth of damage had been done to my house exactly three weeks ago when Hurricane Charley charged across central Florida. The insurance was not even settled yet and now another hurricane – this one reported to be as big as Texas and extremely powerful – was heading toward us.
I was deep in thought as I left the office complex where I worked as a computer system analyst for, well, let me just refer to it as a major entertainment industry in central Florida. I knew that I would not be evacuating. Despite the damage done to my pool and lanai cage by Charley, my house was built like a fortress. Money was not a problem even back when I had it designed and constructed. I was well tenured, well compensated, and comfortable in my life style. My daughter, the youngest of three children, had just been accepted as a junior partner in a prestigious Atlanta law firm. Her older brothers were both well into stable, well-remunerated lives. The kids’ mother had been gone from our lives ever since their young years, all the better for the four of us. As I headed toward my reserved parking slot, my mind on this new storm and possible repercussions, I bumped into and almost knocked over a co-worker who was pacing at the entrance to the underground parking area.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Are you OK?” The young lady, Laura, looked up at me and smiled, nodding, but the tear I saw leaking out of her right eye concerned me. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” She shook her head, but a tear escaped her other eye. I took her arm and lead her the short distance to a nearby bench.
Her skirt rode up above her knees as she sat down. I lifted my gaze from her legs to her eyes; my concern about being busted as a gawker disappeared when I saw her eyelids were squeezed shut, holding back additional tears. Her breathing was uneven; I could see her shoulders start to shake as she began to sob, quietly at first, then audibly. I sat down beside her and held her hands in a comforting gesture. She leaned into me, her head on my left shoulder, and continued crying. After a minute or so, her sobbing slowed and she backed away.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I feel like an idiot, crying like that.”
“I’m the one who should apologize,” I responded. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Oh, you didn’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Then, why were you crying? What’s wrong?”
Laura took a deep, ragged breath before speaking. Hesitant at first, her words became a rush by the time she got rolling. In a nutshell, she was scared. Scared by the hurricane that had already passed. Scared of the new hurricane that now threatened her. Scared because she had been slightly injured by flying debris during the previous storm. Scared for her life as a result of the coming storm. As she spoke, I learned that her apartment complex, although not condemned, had been damaged by Charley. Laura was scared that she would not be safe there when Frances hit.
I knew Laura had not worked around the office complex long (there was no way I could help but notice a pretty young lady with a face and body like hers) but I had not known that she had moved here from Ohio only four weeks ago. New to the area, she had not yet made friends who could put her up during the upcoming storm. And, as she repeated, she was scared.
“Laura,” I offered, “if you want to, you can come stay at my place until the storm blows over.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out like that, Mr. Richardson,” she said. “What would your wife say about you bringing home a strange young lady?”
“First of all, call me Steve,” I told her. “Please don’t remind me how old I’m getting. Anyhow, there is no wife to be concerned about. I live alone, and, quite frankly, I think I’d enjoy your company.”
“I think you would, too,” she said, a strange smile crossing her face. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you will,” she added cryptically.
I escorted her to my Escalade and we made a quick trip to her apartment so she could pick up a change of clothes (and whatever else it is that some women seem unable to be without). As I waited in her parking lot I watched the blue tarp that had been spread over her roof rippling in the strengthening breeze. ‘I need to invest in the companies that make these blue tarps,’ I thought. ‘They’ve got to be making money.’
Laura came scurrying down the steps carrying a small suitcase. I got out of the SUV and took the bag from her, placing it in the back seat after opening the passenger side door and helping her up into her seat. She had changed clothes while upstairs, now wearing a short, swirling satiny orange skirt güvenilir bahis and, gentleman that I am, I could not help but notice sheer red panties. Laura smiled sweetly at me when she saw that I had not averted my eyes in time but said nothing. After I got back into the Escalade and fastened my seatbelt, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you so much for doing this, Steve,” she said. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I’m just glad to be able to do this for you,” I responded. “It makes me feel good being able to help someone. And, I’m kind of glad it’s you.”
“I’m glad it’s me, too,” she said. “I do believe we’ll enjoy getting to know each other better.”
We did precisely that as I drove to my house out in the country. I had invested in real estate several decades earlier and had my house built on a prime piece of land, well away from the hustle and bustle of tourist land. As I drove I learned that Laura had graduated from Ohio State University with double majors in public relations and journalism three months earlier. She had been hired by corporate recruiters at a college job fair, and liked what she was doing. She had been on the gymnastic team at OSU and almost made the All-American team, but her 5’10” stature worked against her. She had been engaged to a fellow student at the Columbus campus until she found him in bed with her roommate one afternoon when gymnastics practice was cancelled. She liked classical music and to sing karaoke, although she had not done so since moving down here. I enjoyed listening not only to the dulcet tone of her voice, but even more the content and context of her young life.
The gate to my estate was hidden unless one knew exactly where to look. I slowed as I turned, activating the gate with my remote. The gate closed behind us as I drove up the tree-lined drive to the house. Most of the trees had survived Charley and, in the three weeks since it passed, I had spent a small fortune having my property cleaned up. As a result, there were no potential missiles lying around awaiting renewed wind.
Pressing another button on the remote opened the garage door and I drove in. The garage door closed behind me. I turned off the engine and turned toward Laura. It was silent except for the sound of our breathing and the ticking of the cooling engine. I unsnapped my seatbelt, opened my door and went to her side of the SUV. As I opened her door and helped her out, I was again treated to a glimpse of her panty-covered crotch. Laura appeared to stumble as she exited and fell against me. As I am a good half-foot taller than she, I had to look down at her. She stretched up on her toes, pressing firmly against my chest, and kissed me lingeringly on the mouth. Her tongue flicked gently against my lips, then disappeared before I could react.
React with my own lips, that is. I could feel a lower section of my body starting to react. She seemed to rub against my growing erection for several seconds before disengaging. “Show me the house, Steve,” she requested. I grabbed her bag from the back seat in my left hand, closed both doors on the passenger side, took her hand in my right hand and headed into the house proper after disarming the intrusion alarm.
The tour of my house lasted much longer than I thought it would. My house is not exceptionally large – just under three thousand feet – but she stopped and examined much of the artwork I had hanging on the walls. She turned out to be an amateur art critic, also, and was able to identify several artists from halfway across the room. I let her explore while I put her bag in the guest room, turned down the bed, and got fresh towels out for her. I was standing still, looking at the bed in the spare room when Laura came in behind me, put her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“I’m trying to remember when these sheets were put on the bed,” I said. “I can’t recall. I should probably change them. Want to give me a hand?”
Laura walked over to the bed and ran her hand over the bedding. “Don’t worry about the sheets,” she said. “If I need clean linen on this bed later, then you can show me where to find it. Right now, I’d like to fix you dinner, if I may.”
“Oh, you cook, too?”
She smiled at me. “You’ll find I’m very talented in the kitchen. I have a number of talents you’re not aware of. Now, what would you like for dinner?”
“I have no idea what’s in the freezer or pantry,” I confessed. “I don’t do much cooking anymore as it’s always just me. Let’s take a look at what we have. If necessary, we’ll go out and stock up on food. Or just go out and eat dinner out. Whatever you’d like to do.”
We went to the kitchen together and investigated the larder. Laura was pleased with what she found and chided me for having underestimated the food supply. “Not only do you have enough canned food for when power goes out, you’ve got a ton of food you need to eat now in case we do lose power.”
“Oh, we won’t lose türkçe bahis power,” I told her. “If I lose commercial power, I have a generator that automatically kicks on. You might notice a flicker, but that’s all.”
“Cool. So, I can cook whatever I want?”
“Then, if you would, get out of my kitchen and leave me alone. I’ll call you if I need you.” When I hesitated, she moved toward me, and gave me a full frontal embrace, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes. “I think you’ll be most satisfied with what I prepare. Do you trust me?” The question seemed strange and she must have seen my brow furrow. “Never mind. Just get out of here. And get ready for an enjoyable evening at home. Get those office clothes off. Put on your relaxing-around-home clothes. Get comfortable.”
“What if I told you I got comfortable at home by wearing nothing?”
“Then I’d suggest getting comfortable in whatever manner you wanted.” A grin came across her face. “I would ask you to put on a shirt when you sat down at the table to eat, though. A well-mannered man does not come to the dinner table bare-chested. At least that’s what my grandmother taught me.”
“A shirt, yes. That’s the only thing my grandmother mentioned. Now, get out of here.” She lifted her face and her lips found mine. I again felt her tongue and this time was able to meet it with mine. She pressed firmly against me. I could feel her breasts mashing against my own chest. I pulled her even closer. My tongue action turned aggressive. I shifted my hands down her back and cupped her butt. Her groin moved even tighter against my crotch and engorged organ. My hands slipped below the hem of her short skirt and touched the backs of her bare thighs, then moved back up to again hold her butt. To my delight, I discovered she was wearing a thong; her bare ass cheeks were warm in my hands.
“Oh, my God, Steve, you turn me on!” Her pelvis writhed against mine as my hand caressed her derriere. I turned her slightly and moved a step toward the wall. Once her back was against the wall, I scrunched down just a bit while raising her right leg. She wrapped that leg around my waist and began to rhythmically hump me.
“It can’t be any more than you turn me on,” I said. I moved my hand from her ass cheek forward and encountered a sodden morass. I rubbed her pussy through the wet panty crotch. She moved her pelvis backward to allow my probing finger more room.
“Ah, Steve, that feels so good…” I moved the cloth aside and ran my finger up and down her soaked cleft. “Uh… uh… uh,” she muttered as I massaged the core of her womanhood. I dipped my slippery finger into the source of the lubricant. Her cunt squeezed my finger tightly as she rotated her hips, causing her clit to slide across my finger. “That feels s-o-o-o good,” she repeated as she continued to roll her hips, rubbing her bundle of nerves across my finger.
The kitchen was filling with the fragrant odor of raw sex. I could hear Laura’s ragged breathing and sub-vocalizations as I continued to massage her clit. Our tongues continued their duel, neither of us even considering surrender.
Her body tensed, her muscles contracting. She drew in a deep breath and held it. Her body shuddered in my arms as she released her breath in a low wail. “Oh, God, Steve!” One of her hands reached down to her crotch and pressed my hand tight against her pussy. Her pelvis rocked and shuddered as she came. “Oh, fuck! Oh, yes! Yes!”
Her body shuddered again. She held my hand tight against her cleft. I moved my finger that was inside her, rubbing the front inner wall of her hole. She shuddered and rocked again, a cry of pleasure coming from her. Several more orgasms hit her before she grew still.
“Oh, Steve, that was so wonderful,” she finally said, her face pressed hard against my chest. “I haven’t come like for, well, for longer than I want to remember.”
I kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad I could do it for you. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I invited you here, and I definitely wouldn’t have chosen the kitchen as the place to do it, but I’m glad I made you feel good.”
“You did. So good.” She purred against my chest, her fingers dragging through the buttons of my shirt. “But you didn’t get any release.”
“That’s OK,” I replied. “I’m just glad you were able to.”
She moved her hand from my chest down to my crotch and squeezed my erection. “That’s not OK. It’s your turn now. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”
Laura slowly knelt down in front of me, one hand still holding me and massaging my cock. Her other hand went to my zipper and slowly pulled it down. She grinned up at me and stuck out her tongue.
“Wow, do you have a license for this?” she asked as she pulled out my 7½-inch cock. I smiled and shook my head as I looked down at the brown-haired beauty kneeling in front of me. “I need to see this better.” She pulled my slacks all the way down to my ankles and then slid my boxers down to join my pants. güvenilir bahis siteleri “Spread your legs a bit,” she instructed. I unhesitatingly complied.
Laura inspected my cock in a variety of ways. She moved it about – up and down and side to side – as she gazed at it. She delicately slid her fingers along its length and around its girth. I could see her smile as she took its measure. Until such time that she dipped her head and I felt a warm wetness on my lower head. Her tongue began to drag around the mushroom tip. This time it was my breathing that became ragged.
I drew in a deep breath as I felt her tongue drag along the bottom of my staff. She moved my shaft in circles as she attacked its length with her mouth. As she drew her tongue along the flesh of my cock, she would wiggle the tip of her tongue almost like a vibrator. The sensation became more and more intense. I could feel a tightening deep inside my pelvis that I had not felt for way too long.
Laura looked up at me with a smile, her eyes seeming to twinkle. I could see her tongue moving along my shaft. I took another long, ragged breath. “Am I doing it right?” she asked.
“My God,” I replied, “if there is a ‘more right’ way to do it, I don’t think I could handle it.” She responded by slowly drawing the tip of my tumescence into the warm, wet cavity of her mouth. “Oh, my God, you found it. Uh… Oh, that feels s-o-o-o good.”
Laura had the first two inches or so of my manhood in her mouth and kept her head stationary. Her tongue was far from stationary, however; it began slowly tickling the bottom of my shaft and circling the head that was inside her warm mouth. Her right hand began to move back and forth along my pole. Her left hand reached between my legs and lightly stroked my rear end. A moan of ecstasy escaped my lips. Laura’s head began to slowly move back and forth, her tongue dragging across the sensitive bottom of my cock.
“I’m not going to be able to hold back long, Laura.”
She took my member from her mouth and smiled up at me, her lips wet with saliva. “That’s fine. I want you to come in my mouth. I want you to fill me with your cum.”
My knees were becoming as weak as my organ had gotten hard. I could not recall a time I was so stimulated and excited. I began to lightly caress her short-cut hair as she bobbed back and forth at my crotch, leaving her in full control of her movements. I was rewarded with a persistent movement straight toward me.
I could feel the glans start to enter her throat. Laura hesitated and I heard her take a deep breath. I felt her press her beautiful face forward and I could feel my cock begin to enter that tight tunnel of her throat. She was close to my pubic hairs when she reversed course and my penis came back out of the sweet constriction.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe you’re just too big for me. Maybe I’m just out of practice. I can’t take you all the way in. I hope you’re not mad at me.”
“There’s no way I could be mad. My God, what you’re doing feels so great. So exciting. So thrilling. I love what you’re doing.”
“Then get ready. I might not be able to swallow all of you, but I’m ready to swallow.” She opened her mouth wide and took me back in.
Laura was enthusiastic at her task. Her tongue flitted like a butterfly on my rigid shaft. Her lips constricted around me as she plunged her head back and forth. Her right hand pumped at the base of my shaft while her left hand caressed my ass.
All my senses were engaged. I could still taste her lipstick from the earlier kisses. I saw her head bobbing back and forth at my crotch. I could hear her slurping and breathing and my increasingly frequent moans. The scent of her sweet juices still hung in the air. And most of all, every nerve in my cock was alive and responding to the stimulation of her tongue and mouth.
She took me partially into her throat several times. The contrast of her moving tongue compared to her constricting throat was amazing. None of the sexual experiences in my almost five decades of life had been like this. Her hands were exciting. Her lips were thrilling. Her tongue was magic. Together they were like nothing I could remember.
I again felt the tightening deep in my groin and groaned in delight. “Laura, Laura, Laura, I don’t know how you do this to me.” My hips began to rock back and forth and I began to fuck her mouth. “I love what you’re doing. My God, you excite me!”
Laura slightly increased her speed. Her head bobbed back and forth just a bit faster. The head of my cock entered her throat just a bit more frequently. Her tongue became more insistent upon my shaft.
“I’m close,” I told her. “I won’t last much longer.” She said nothing, but her treatment of my cock was answer enough. I rocked my hips back and forth a little more vigorously. “Oh, my God! Oh, shit you’re good!”
She began to hum. I began to cum.
As soon as she felt the first rope of cum hit her tongue, she jammed her face forward and plunged my cock as far into her throat as she could. I felt her throat muscles constrict, milking my cock as I came time and again. Her cheeks hollowed and stayed that way as she sucked every drop out of me. My knees bucked as I shot my last load.