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(At the time of these stories, I had just turned 18 yrs old, stood 6 ft, 2 in tall, weighed 195 lbs with a 29-inch waist. My stomach was flat and hard, my chest chiseled and neck thick with muscle. My legs were sculpted steel pillars. I have blue eyes and, at that time, fairly short brown hair.
I worked at a 3-bay garage/filling station/grocery store in a small town of 250 people, and had advanced from a mechanics helper to assistant mechanic, and, at the age of 17 been promoted to Full Mechanic. I made good money, and kids from three counties brought their cars for me to make run better or faster.
Despite my physical appearance, I was a socially shy person. I could be embarrassed easily. Having worked at the garage since I was 13, I found it easier to deal with adults one on one than kids my own age.
I dated, yes, but never went steady with any girl. I had managed to feel breasts and butts through clothing, but never bare skin. The one time a girl had asked to see my cock was followed quickly by a demand to take her home, adding to my shyness and frustration.
My cock is big. In full arousal it stands over 10 inches long with a circumference over 7 inches.
My name is Tim. When I was small my Dad shortened it to just T, for Tim. My freshman year in high school the kids on the football team said it stood for something else – T for Trunk.
This is my fourth story of the series. If you haven’t read the first three, scroll down to the bottom, click on my pen name and start from the beginning. You won’t be sorry.)
So, there I was, driving by the lake, heading for Mr. and Mrs. J’s lakeside cottage. Mrs. J should already be there, waiting for me.
As I turned the last corner I remembered which street this was. Coming up on the left was my grandparents’ summer cottage. Not being in season, I knew they wouldn’t be there.
I glanced toward the house as I passed and there was Aunt Marion, my mother’s youngest sister, and her new husband of 2 months, Jerry, raking up the last of the fall leaves from the yard. I had forgotten my grandparents had let them use the cottage until they were better established and could find a place of their own.
They both looked up from their task to see who was passing and, recognizing me, waived cheerfully. I waved back and honked lightly but did not stop. “That’s not going to sit well,” I remember thinking.
My grandmother had Aunt Marion late in life. Only six years older than me, I was her favorite nephew. She used to tease me about helping my mom change my diaper when I was a baby. As a matter of fact she was always teasing me about something. She enjoyed making me blush. Until that summer, that is.
During the summer I used to run over to the beach in the morning. Along with several of my friends, of both sexes, we’d talk and swim and catch the rays.
Of course I enjoyed ogling the girls in there skimpy bathing suits, too.
In August Aunt Marion started showing up. She wanted to deepen her tan before her wedding in September. Because she didn’t know anyone, she threw her blanket open next to mine.
Aunt Marion was tiny. My mother stood 5’5″, but Aunt Marion barely made 5′. She was skinny, maybe 90 lbs soaking wet. My way of getting back at her teasing was to tell her she could be mistaken for a boy if it wasn’t for those two little bumps on her chest and the long hair that hung to her ass. She got so ticked off when I said it, so I used it sparingly.
The truth is you couldn’t mistake her for a boy. She was tiny, yes, but all the curves were in the right place. She really did have breasts. Small, yes, but on her they fit just right. Her legs were toned and shapely, and her butt, though tiny, was beautifully curved and proportioned for her frame.
Her face was slender, like the rest of her. High cheekbones, a dainty little nose, full lips, almost perfect teeth except the front right turned out just a little to slightly overlap the left. Her eyes were big and brown. No, you really couldn’t mistake her for a boy.
A graduate of a local teaching college, she had been teaching 2nd grade in our district for a couple of years. My grandparents wouldn’t let her live in a dorm while she was attending college, so she had lived with us, sharing a room with my older sister, Beth.
One of the most embarrassing moments caused by my Aunt had been on the morning of my 15th birthday.
I was shy and Aunt Marion continually did things that embarrassed me. She’d kid me about being her little man, then pretend she was going to throw her arms around me and kiss me. I’d fight her off, push her away, and turn beet red in the process. Looking back I can smile about it. Right then, though, I’d turn about every shade of red you could think of.
My brother had graduated the year before, and then enlisted in Navy, so I finally had a room to myself.
It was early Saturday morning and I had just awakened with my usual morning hard on, needing to go to the bathroom yet knowing it would pendik escort be impossible in my present condition.
I was stretching, arms extended over my head and legs stretched out as far as they could go. My body was still covered by a sheet and light blanket.
Suddenly my door opened and Aunt Marion, then 21, flew into the room, jumped astraddle me, gripped my biceps in an attempt to keep them pinned beside my head, and, laughing, giggling and squealing, began covering my face in kisses while wishing me a happy birthday.
When I arched my hips violently in an attempt to throw her off, my piss-hard cock slammed against her vagina. In less than half a second she went from laughing, giggling and teasing to dead silence. I was furious, but she had stopped, so I waited.
My thrust had pushed her up. She didn’t come back down when I lowered my hips. She was holding herself above me. Looking back now, I know it was in disbelief as she slowly lowered and made full, solid contact again.
I guess it finally burned through her brain that what she had felt was real. She gave a squeal, leaped off me and ran from the room.
I can’t tell you how embarrassed I was. Again my cock had made a girl run from me. Throughout that day I couldn’t look her in the face. I can remember, now, how she had tried to shrug it off and get me to loosen up. Over time I finally did, but not that day.
Getting back to the beach, I remember it was one of those hot dog-days of August. All the others had left or gone into the water. Almost time to take a quick shower and go to work, I asked Aunt Marion if she wanted anything from the concession stand before I left. She wondered if they would sell ice water. I assured her I could get her anything.
I was at the concession stand, about 30 ft from her blanket, when I heard her voice screaming to be left alone. When I turned, I saw two guys I recognized, both seniors from our rival school district to the south. One was holding her arms from behind while the other was flipping her little breast with his fingers.
They were standing at an angle from my approach, so neither of them saw me coming. But Aunt Marion was looking for me. I guess it was the look on my face because all the sudden she froze, eyes widened, and she quit screaming.
I said I was shy. That pertained mostly to girls. When it came to situations like this, I wasn’t shy at all. I’d been in a few of fights. None, however, when I was truly enraged, as I was right then.
I remember what I did like it was slow motion. I dropped them both like bad habits. They never laid a hand on me. My Aunt told me later I was ruthless. She said she was frightened and proud of me at the same time. I made sure she was all right, escorted her to her car, then went back and, as the saying goes, read to them from the bible, chapter and verse. They left with a complete understanding that I had better not see either of them around again, and what would happen if I did.
From that day I was her hero. Though she still liked to tease from time to time, it was lighter, more playful and considerate.
So driving by now without stopping was not going to sit well. I knew I was going to hear about it, but I’d worry about that later. The cottage I was looking for was around the next curve. And that’s where my mind was.
I was picturing in my mind how Donna would greet me after what we’d done Saturday night. I imagined the door being opened and her standing there in something filmy, sexy, provocative. Or maybe a note saying “Come In, I’m Waiting”, then I’d find her already in bed, naked, hot, exciting.
What I got was something completely different. And, for a little while, it left this 18 year old puzzled.
It was the 2nd week of December. It was cold but not frigid. Maybe low 30’s. Skies were mostly blue with just puffs of clouds here and there.
I pulled into the drive. Donna had said “lakeside cottage”. It was almost as big as my parents’ old 5-bedroom house! As I pulled up to the garage she came running out of the house in a winter coat and slacks. She opened the garage door and signaled for me to pull my car inside.
As I got out of the car she said, “Close the door and come in”, then almost ran back inside the cottage. Puzzled, I did just that. When I got inside things became even more puzzling.
The lower floor was one great big room divided into 4 different areas; kitchen, dining area, living room and an area with a pool table, jukebox and large round poker table complete with chip slots and cup holders. The kitchen was separated from the rest only by a large L-shaped counter with opening to the living and dining areas. Donna was in the kitchen area.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure”, I said.
“Isn’t it cold out,” she asked? “You know, I like spring best, when the trees have leaves. I went shopping this morning. I bought this dress, and of course I had to get this handbag and a pair of shoes to go with it.” On and on she went. I had taken my coat off maltepe escort when I came in and hung it on the coat tree by the door. She still had her coat on!
While talking she had placed a cup of coffee on the coffee table in front of me, taken out the dress, shoes and purse to show me and now was opening the doors under the sink to do what? My goodness, she had a dust rag and a bottle of polish! She was going to dust!
And all the while she kept talking and moving. Perplexed, I had stopped listening and was trying to figure out what the heck was happening.
Suddenly it dawned on me. I told you, I’m a quick study. SHE was nervous. Here I was, an 18 year old. Was this 32-year-old woman nervous about being alone with me? Was it nervousness or something else?
While I was going through this thought process, Donna had cleaned the counters and was moving toward the dining table, all the while talking incessantly.
“Donna, stop!” I said firmly. I didn’t shout it, just said it loud and clear. She froze on the spot, about an arms length from the table.
“Put down the cleaning stuff and come over here”, I said just as firmly. I swear the hand holding the can shook as she set it on the table. Slowly she came toward me, looking down at the carpet as she walked, and stopped just in front of my outstretched feet.
Leaning back into the couch I took a moment to think. I decided to go slow, test these new waters. “Take off your coat and sit down here,” I said patting the couch beside me.
While she took off her coat and walked over to the closet to hang it up, I had an opportunity to look at her closer.
Donna was wearing a silky white long-sleeved blouse that buttoned up the front. It had a bow tied around the neck. It wasn’t sheer, but tucked into her slacks that way left her breasts well defined. Her black slacks were form fitting from the waist to the knee, and then flared slightly to her black calfskin zipper boots.
As I said in Pt 3, she was all woman. Standing 5′ 8-9″, around 130 lbs, she had wonderful curves. Looking at her face you could see the beginning of worry lines around the eyes. She had high cheekbones and what I think they call a Roman nose. She had a wide mouth and when she smiled those pearly white teeth could light up a room. Her lips were full, and, as I remembered from last night, oh so kissable.
She stood straight, with square shoulders. Her torso tapered only slightly to her waist. Her hips flared out just enough to curve back into those long legs.
When viewed from the side her chin swept straight back to a long, graceful neck. Her bust thrust straight out, and through the blouse and bra you could see those nipples were already hard.
Her back was straight, concaved slightly at her waist and then the beautiful ass thrust out, around and back to those long legs again. The only person I can think of for comparison is Pat Benetar in her prime. Donna’s ass was that defined.
When she sat I took her hands in mine. Her return grip was very hard. She still had not looked me in the face.
Man, I didn’t want to ask this question! “Do you want me to go?”
“Oh, no, Tim. Please don’t go.” Her grip got even tighter, yes, but my breath came easier.
Tim? The only person to call me Tim was my mother! Depending on the degree of her ire it was either Tim or Timothy.
“Then tell me what’s wrong. And tell me why you won’t look at me.”
Her head came up quick. Her eyes finally met mine. “It’s not you, Tim. It’s me.”
With one hand she lightly touched my cheek. “Last night was wonderful. I told you I wasn’t a virgin when I got married. When Ken, my high school boy friend, enlisted in the Army, we had sex before he went to Boot Camp. He hurt me, Tim. And it was over so quickly. There was nothing for me but pain.”
“When Ken came home on leave before going to Germany, we did it again. He was so fast, Tim. And I was never really ready for him, not, you know, wet.”
“Still, when he wrote to say he was getting married over there, I was devastated.”
“My husband John worked with my Dad. He had been to my parents’ house many times when I was in high school. I guess my Dad told him I got dumped and he asked me out to dinner. He was nice, he was kind and he said all the right things. We went out several times and, all of the sudden, we were dating.”
“We had only been dating about 2 months when he asked me to marry him. When I told my parents, they were all for it. Dad kept going on about his education, how respected he was at work and how he would be going places, you know, promotions and all.”
“Mom pushed, too. I think it was all their talk and the way John made me feel safe that made me finally say yes.”
“Anyway, the first time we made love was the week before the ceremony. I didn’t really want to, but he did, so I relented. I wanted to please him. I thought, because he was older, he would have more experience, be gentle, caring. But he was quick, too, Tim. He said it was because kartal escort I turned him on so much.”
“After so many years, shouldn’t that have worn away, Tim? I mean, he’s seen me at my worst, you know, in the morning. We see each other every day. Shouldn’t he be able to take more time?”
“His thing, (thing?) is almost as long as yours, Tim, but it’s much thinner. I have had climaxes through the years, but not very often. I could probably count them on my hands. And never more than one at a time.”
All the time she was talking she was shifting positions. She had let go of my hands then taken them again. She had leaned her elbows on her knees and studied her hands. She had looked me in the face, looked at my chest, and touched me here and there while emphasizing a point. Finally she took my hands in hers again, and again looked into my eyes.
“Last night you used the whole time of the dance, and the clean up, to seduce me. You used hours, Tim, and had me trembling and eager by the second dance.”
I couldn’t tell her it was because I didn’t have the nerve yet to drag her down a hallway or into the boy’s locker room.
What I did say was, “Liar, I had you by the end of the first dance.”
Her first laugh as she slapped my arm. “Oh, you’re mean. OK, by the end of the first dance. I was so torn, Tim. You’re in high school. I’m an old married lady. I shouldn’t let myself act that way. I should know better. That’s what I was going to say when you opened the car door.”
And Tim,” she was serious again as she touched my face once more, “it’s what I had convinced myself to tell you right up until I saw you get out of your car.”
Taking my face gently in both hands she softly kissed my lips. Holding my face she continued, between kisses. “I’ve been fighting with myself since you sat down. When you told me to sit down and asked if you should go, I finally knew for sure. Those words tore through me, Tim.”
Kiss. “I don’t want you to go.”
Soft kiss. “I want to touch you.”
Another kiss. “I want you to touch me.”
Kiss. “I want to please you, Tim.”
Kiss again. “I want to be the woman you turned me into last night.”
A longer kiss now, with just the touch of her tongue on my lips, then she said “I wish you could feel what I feel when your, um, thing, slides into me. (There’s that word again) It fills me, Tim. You touch everywhere, everything inside me, all at the same time.”
We kissed long, my tongue seeking out hers deep into her mouth. Her tongue flicking at mine, teasing it, drawing it further in, then her lips gripping it as she sucks on it while still flicking it with her tongue.
Releasing she drew back, “And I want to feel like that again, Tim.”
Pushing her away I pointed to a spot right in front of me and said, “Stand up right there, Donna.” Smiling, she obeyed.
“Remove the boots,” was the next soft order. “Unbutton the blouse and hold it open,” was the next. She complied right down the line. Those fingers undoing the buttons were beginning to tremble.
“Take it off.” Again she obeyed, holding it in her hand. “Throw it over there,” and I pointed toward the floor by the end of the couch. She hesitated, but the blouse finally went sailing. She didn’t like clothes on the floor.
“Now take off your slacks and throw them over there, too.”
Again the hesitation, but they followed the rest. There she stood, in bra and panties. God, she was beautiful. And I was rock hard.
“Give me your bra.” Staring at her breasts I raised the bra to my nose and inhaled. Was she starting to turn red?
Laying the bra beside me I looked steadily at her crotch and said, “Now those panties.”
“Are you going to smell these, too”, she asked as she handed them to me.
“Damn right”, I said. Staring directly at her vee, I could see the moisture had slightly matted her neatly trimmed bush. She wasn’t trimmed last night!
“Did you trim that for me,” I asked as I brought those panties to my nose and sucked the air in through them? They were wet, slightly tinged with her perfume, and her aroma thrilled me. My God, I was hard.
“Yes,” she answered meekly.
Leaning back the way I was, it was impossible to hide my reaction. With my length and girth, the front of my Levi’s was close to splitting open.
“Kneel down here in front of me,” I said as I spread my feet wider apart. Slowly she moved forward and knelt in front of me.
“Take off my shoes and jeans, Donna.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off her body. She was red from her face half way down to her breasts. She was excited, her breasts heaving slightly. She had trouble looking at my face.
Now, with this order, she finally looked up. “Yes, Tim”, she said. She removed each of my penny loafers easily, and then reached to undo the button and lower the zipper.
“Be careful”, I said. “I’m not wearing underwear.” I raised my hips as she tugged on the sides and she removed them and sent them flying. Funny, she had no reservation about my clothes lying on the floor!
While she had been undressing my lower half, I had removed my shirt. I lounged in front of her now completely naked, with a 10+” long, 7+” circumference cock standing rigid right in front of her face.
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