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November 3

Wherehouse

By Pete SymesPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
1
November 3
Photo by Charlie Deets on Unsplash

The phone rang and woke me up. It was Tami chattering away about the good time she had at the concert Halloween night, how her friends liked me, loved the Bonneville. Said it was like a party on wheels. “Two couches with a V-8” I believe the phrase was. Said we have to go to a concert again sometime. No mention of the after concert.

I said I had tried to call her yesterday but got no reply. Tami just kept chattering on about the concert. I began saying something about when we got back to pick up her car and Tami busted in saying, “Oh, that was cute how you waited for me to start my car and make sure I left that parking lot safe. My Protector! That lot always creeps me out. It is so dark back there and I worry who might be lurking. That was soooooo sweeeet of you.”

I was speechless, my mouth was dry, I barely got the words out as I stammered, “I guess I got a little higher than I had thought at the concert.”

“Oh nonsense, you were fine. Gotta go, Shopping with Tasha this afternoon. Just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed our evening together. Let’s do it again. Byyyyeee!”

I heard the phone click and just held the receiver to my ear without moving and let the silence soak in.

Tasha, the late twenty something new sales rep at work. A force of nature. Flowing skirts or tight jeans depending on her leads for the day. Always nice to us shipping grunts. She knows how to expedite things through a shipping department headed by a randy nineteen-year-old and his minions.

Annie either loves her or hates her. I have not gotten a handle on their relationship yet. But Tasha and Tami formed a friendship almost immediately.

I’ll leave office politics for another time. The second thought provoking event of the day was to come.

The drive-in with Rene.

Rene and I had shared the path of sexual awakening together. From kissing, to making out, to full body city park wrestling. We traveled from light, heavy, intense, to full tilt petting. Threw ourselves into the oral, but does it count as having sex, sex explorations until our final full immersion bang sessions. All this in family basements, forest preserves, parties, friends' parents' bedroom and of course, the drive-in movies.

We had grown together. Experimented together. Now that I had my own place our sessions were slowly moving into a more comfortable realm without the constant threat of discovery, but still our love making was of the mild, rather than the wilder variety.

We drove in the Bonneville to our favorite Drive In. The one with the heaters that you hung from the car windows along with the horrible speakers. We went for some post Halloween bad drive-in horror flicks.

Not really.

Rene’s straight blond hair hung in the flickering light framing her button nose and high French cheek bones. Her silhouette was the stuff of dreams. She was a head turner by every stretch of the imagination. I hung my arm around her shoulder and slipped my hand under her button-down shirt which she had worn bra-less for the drive in. I teased the firm erect nipple on her small breast with my fingers as I drove. With the aid of the nippy autumn weather, it was straining with tenderness and I had Rene’s full attention by the time we found our space between two poles. The Bonneville easily filled two spaces giving us two bad speakers and two luscious heaters for the chilled November night.

The movie was bad, so our snuggling intensified quickly. At nineteen years old our conversations about sex were nonexistent. It was all one caress leads to another. Rene had worn a simple skirt. Short. But not too short and my hands were soon roving up her strong white thighs and under her skirt. I found my nipple ploy had worked its magic. She was sopping. Usually, I am not the first to take the trip way down under, but my mouth was pulled between her legs as if compelled.

I also knew exactly where to tease, where to lick, and where to suck as if some secret formula had been revealed. Like a curtain had drawn back giving me ancient knowledge of how to eat pussy like a pro.

Rene was beside herself and instead of gasps and heavy breathing she was absolutely twitching and almost shrieking in delight.

But most astounding was the sensations I was having. It was like not only did I know what would feel and set her a flame further, it was as if I was actually experiencing my tongue as it slid through the folds of her pink curtain and my cock grew in sympatico with her clit. When she came again for the, I know not what time, I knew it was time.

I mounted my tender Rene and did things to her that we had never done before. Our love making had always been of the tender, young lovers' variety but tonight I unleashed things that I had learned from the older wiser woman of my work place. In the Bonneville that evening she got the full Ellen Joy treatment.

As Rene’s young body quivered and received the pleasures usually reserved for the more mature and experienced gratefully, her sharp mind raised the questions on the cuddling drive home.

“That was different,” she said. “I am not sure where you learned that. I almost felt like a piece of meat at times. I am not sure if I liked it.”

I asked her if she would like to spend the night at my place so we could talk. Talking was really the last thing I wanted to do. I was thinking the session could continue much more unencumbered in the coach house I was now renting.”

Rene declined. I think she knew talking was not on my mind. Her erect nipples and flushed neck and chest also meant talking was not on hers either, but her steely intellect told her enough for one night. Her analytical brain had much to process.

So, home she went, and into the dark night did I.

I did go home, but first I took a discreet drive by Tami’s. No car. No Tami.

Home alone I went.

fiction
1

About the Creator

Pete Symes

A scenario manifests. A scenario disassembles. I participate intensively for the duration.

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