A scenario manifests. A scenario disassembles. I participate intensively for the duration.
It was time for my brain to start justifying what my body was craving. Past transgressions were prime. Like when Jim knew how much I wanted Hillary from the office. I restrained my approach to Hillary; us being colleagues and all at the agency. But at the company Christmas party, a time notorious for office indiscretions, Jim swooped in and took her home that night knowing full well I had designs to do the same. He who hesitates....yada yada yada. Not that he rubbed it in afterwards, but Jim was always one to share conquests and he told just enough to taunt me sufficiently. But he was dating Lynn at the time, though not living together at that point. Maybe Hillary would never have had anything to do with me. Maybe she would. But the evil monkey in me did cry “payback” for wounds imagined or real.
Jim and I had flown in first thing that morning from Los Angeles. Since we came into Chicago that meant we did not get to the editing house until early afternoon. The editors had received the rushes first thing in the morning so by the time we arrived materials had been synced and were ready to screen. We watched, added our two cents and then left the editors to do their thing. We met up with Jim's girlfriend Lynn. We had both known her for years. I was on my own these days after the destruction of my own eleven year relationship with my career. Lynn and Jim were a newer item with Lynn still tolerating the vagaries of having a significant other in the advertising business.
Ricky and I were out in the parking lot playing our version of handball. Really it was just slapping a tennis ball against the factory wall and keeping a pseudo type of tennis score. Boy it was hot that day. One of those steamy August days in Chicago. As usual Donna and Annie were sitting on the shipping dock watching us spend our lunch hour running around working up a sweat. At nineteen years old neither Ricky nor I had a clue why these two 40 something women would watch us so intently, or had any idea of the thoughts that were going through their heads. Call us naive.
Sindy In The Ninth
Sindy Doughnuts The math check reassured me that this wasn't a transgression of biblical proportions. Diane was clearly this young woman's mother for sure. Why things seemed similar in Slammies men's room all through our romp was clear as the rubber on my cock. Being the dog that I am, rather than let this revelation make me feel guilty or awkward it only added to the sheer lust, enjoyment, and celebration of Diane’s daughters delights.
At least he calls first. I knew he was drunk. He presents no pretext other than he wants to come over in the wee hours of the morning to fuck me. I hate myself for saying alright. I would hate myself more if I wasn’t having the rolling waves of orgasms I’m having now.
“So where were we?” Standing inside by an office window as yin and yang personified. Me, naked from the waist down with pants resting contemptuously on my shoe tops. You nude to the waist only with a brief nakedness respite of tight short skirt sans thong courtesy of me. Tableau completed with your shapely legs on strappy high heels. Your delicious breasts on full proud display pleading for my attention. You step closer pressing their case and your tits press flat to my chest as your lifted thigh curls ever so deliciously around the back of mine. I savor the tease of damp offered up under short clingy skirt.
Sexto Perfecto Cynthia
Sindy Squeaks Sindy lived in one of those hulking brick apartment buildings built in the early twentieth century. It even had the little doors about shoulder high where the ice man would deliver the weekly block. I know this because I lived in such an edifice back in the eighties. It was also where my first love and I shared our first apartment and we both realized we were not enjoying sex as much as we should. Or at least I think that was our conclusion on being woken up numerous nights by our neighbors very loud and boisterous love making. That thirty something woman was a shrieker and many of the men she brought home were grunters of various pitch and amplitude. That was how we knew she got around. Since most of our lovemaking had been on the sly up to that point we were rather quiet and discreet about the whole fucking business.
Finally Pentameter Cynthia
Cynthia 10am Salute I rose from my chair letting the robe slide off my shoulders and did a salute to the sun. Other parts of me had already been well risen this morning. It was time for the rest of me to catch up. My body was feeling better than ever these days, with my renewed yoga discipline and the much more active sex life courtesy of Cynthia. Sure she had some lead off assistance from the previous Cindy & Sindy acts, but Cynthia was adding the final artistic strokes to the rejuvenated me. Someday I should confirm how visible people are in these high rise apartments during the day. I know at night with the lighting it is like an aquarium in here . When I began the stretching routine all of me was well risen from Cynthia's one woman show, but the stretching relaxed my nethers enough to allow me to do the full back arch when I got to that part on the floor.
The Easter Bunny's Cumming
It was a different time. It was a younger time. It was a cumming of age time. One might say cumming was on mine and Rene’s mind all the time. Sensitivities were different. Knowledge of many things were different and learned slowly, intimately, often with great effort and reticence brought about by the shyness of youth and reservations of opening up to the ignorance we wallowed in.