Here's a second installment from Dear Reader, Jim. If you missed part 1, it's here.
The next few days went by in a blur. I imagined fucking Glenda in about a hundred different situations, each one more fun and more ridiculous than the last. Despite getting a hard-on every hour thinking about Sunday, I managed to keep my hands off my dick the entire time… no sense in getting some strange only to disappoint. Finally, Sunday rolled around. I showered up, brushed the ivories, popped a Cialis, and headed across town. I wouldn’t need the Cialis for the first round, but if I got lucky, it would help round 2. Cuts the rebound time down to nothing, and keeps me from getting droopy-dick in the middle of the fun.
Glenda was weeding in the flower patch in her front yard when I pulled up. “Hello, coach!” she shouted, wiping her brow with the back of her gloved hand as she started toward my car. She was wearing cutoff jeans with no belt, and a red Daisy-May top, tied under her breasts, exposing both her tight belly and her tiny cleavage. A thin film of sweat covered every square inch of her. I dreamed for a second of how salty she would taste if I licked her neck right this instant…
“Hi Glenda. Killin’ some weeds, I see.”
“Have to keep the randy little buggers in check or they’ll have the run of the garden in nothing flat,” she said, again with her British accent thick in the air.
“Shannon’s not back yet. Would you like a spot of tea?” she asked, loud enough for any neighbor to hear. She was giving me some cover, which I appreciated. Never know who’s out there, and being a married man, I appreciated her thoughtfulness.
“Sure, if it’s not too much problem. Ice water would do, too,” I said as she led the way into the back yard and into the house. I closed the door behind me and turned back to find Glenda standing squarely in my way. She stepped forward and grabbed my face with her hands, pulling me into a full kiss.
“No ice water – I don’t want you to cool down one bit,” she said, hugging me tightly. I stroked the back of her neck and felt her little tits squish gently against my t-shirt.
“My my, you don’t mess around, do you little princess?”
She kissed me again, this time letting her hand run down to my chest, stopping against my breast. I mirrored the motion, copping a feel with my right hand as our tongues explored each others’ mouths. Her nipples were hard, even through her shirt and her little Bali bra. She had been thinking about this moment, it was quite evident. I dropped my hand down to her cutoffs and stroked her womanhood gently, my other hand spread broadly across her back.
Glenda broke off our kiss and sighed deeply. I leaned down and kissed her neck – my earlier daydream of tasting the salt on her neck now realized. It was heavenly. We stood still for what seemed like hours, my hand gently rubbing her pussy, her head curled against my shoulder as I nuzzled her neck.
“Let’s go downstairs,’ she offered, moving away from me and taking my hand. We turned and descended into what appeared to be a nice mother-in-law apartment in her basement. She led me to the bedroom, where she dramatically flopped on her back on the small bed, throwing her arms open. “I’m all yours, coach. The tough little rookie that can do it all!” she said, giggling. This girl had truly Americanized herself. She may be pushing 35 years old, but she seemed as horny as a 17-year-old on Prom night.
I crawled on the bed and put my arm behind her head, my right hand immediately began to work on un-doing the knot in her halter top. Loose now, I stroked her small breasts through her satin bra.
“They’re pretty small – hardly even there,” she said apologetically.
“Nonsense, they’re beautiful,” I said, pinching a hardened nipple through the slick fabric. “And they’re very aggressive!” I added.
Glenda blushed and kissed me again. My hand wandered down and popped the button on her cutoff jeans, unzipping them, and reached in to stroke her through her satin thong panties.
“You have great taste in underthings,” I said, kissing her again as she melted under my ministrations.
“A girl needs to feel pretty. Especially when she’s going to be showing off the goods,” she said, eyes closed, obviously enjoying the attention. I continued to stroke the length of her pussy, dawdling at the top to circle her magic button on each stroke.
“But you haven’t shown me anything yet,” I whispered in her ear, letting my hot breath sink into her. Glenda shivered. I kept up the stroking, enjoying the slow-play of discovering a new lover.
“A word of warning… I might hit you, bite you, and scratch you… but I won’t say ‘No’ to you today,” she said, giving me the green light on all lanes of traffic. My God, I’ve hit the jackpot, I thought.
I gently slipped Glenda’s panties to one side and ran my fingers up and down the real thing for the first time. Her pussy was shaved, and she sported a nicely trimmed patch on her mons venus. The best of both worlds. Traveling up and down her womanhood, from her taint to the tip of her love button, Glenda held her breath lightly, then sighed with satisfaction. I lifted my hand to taste her nectar – it was lovely, a hot mixture of sex, musk, and sweat. I dipped my finger gingerly once again, and offered her a taste of her own sweetness, which she seductively sucked off my fingertips.
“Let’s get rid of these,” I said, hooking my fingers into her cutoff jeans. Glenda lifted her butt slightly to allow me to pull them down. That’s the signal every man loves – when his woman silently says “I’m all yours” just by lifting her ass off the bed a bit. The thong went next.
Her legs spread gently when she laid back down, quietly inviting my attention. I returned to stroking her pussy gently, barely entering her opening. Her breath was coming harder now, and she began to hump my hand in an effort to get me deeper. I let my middle finger slide in about an inch, then curled it up, pressing her little pee-hole into her G-spot and rubbed her insides in small circles, thumbing her clit. It was the classic six-pack finger-fuck. Glenda seemed to love this move, which I continued for a long minute or two. Removing my fingers for another taste-test, I decided it was time to free her little tits from her satin bra.
My new lover cooperated quickly, and in no time I found her right tit in my mouth as I resumed the gentle finger-fucking. She let out a moan when I suckled her small brown nipples, putting her arm around my head and humping forward almost into a sit-up position. “Go deeper – finger me deeper, coach…” she begged. I straightened out my finger and slid in as deep as I could go, circling her uterus on every penetration, making certain that the flat of my hand pressed her clit into her pelvic bone. Glenda reacted aggressively, increasing her humping in time with my strokes as her breathing continued to get deeper and more ragged.
“Geez, Princess, am I gonna make you come like this?” I asked quietly, again letting my hot breath fill her ear.
“Oh God, don’t stop… just don’t stop,” she said, tightening her pussy muscles on each stroke. Her cunt was a positive fountain of lubrication, her clit a hard tiny mountain pressing against my palm as I fingered her in a steady pace. When I was young I heard that you could make a girl come if you kept a pace of about 60 strokes a minute – the same beat as the song “Surfing Safari” by the Beach Boys. And damned if that wasn’t the case for about every girl I ever touched. Humming the song in my head, I continued to stroke my little English rose as I sucked her neck.
Soon it was time to pick up the pace – Glenda was humping more frantically, pulling my finger into her pussy as deep as she could, almost sitting up, her legs falling farther apart with each stroke. I sat up half way and used my left hand to rub her clit while I slipped a second finger of my right into her wetness. That was all it took. Glenda grabbed my left arm with both hands and frantically humped away, moving my hand at her pace now, impaled on my fingers. I felt a warm wetness envelope my hand as she went over the falls.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhh, nnnggggggggg!” she grunted furiously as she froze in position, trapping both my hands in her crotch as she turned to her side. Then she humped sharply a few more times and collapsed on the bed, out of breath, her tender back facing me and her breath coming in gulps.
“That was hot, Glenda,” I said, nipping on the back of her neck, just under her hairline. No wonder the Japanese find this area so erotic. I caressed her ass as she came back down. “Are you always this sensitive? Most women don’t come that easy.”
“Sorry. But I haven’t had a proper man in almost a year, and you seem to know which buttons to push,” she said, rolling over to face me.
I fondled her nipple gently and smiled. “If you liked that, just wait until I kiss you down there.”
“I have a feeling it will be worth waiting for,” she said with a wry smile. “And you’ll be properly impressed when I kiss You down there,” she said, reaching to undo my belt. She undressed me in a matter of moments, and soon had my cock in her little mouth.
I had been dreaming of this moment for the past several days, and Glenda did not disappoint. For such a small girl, she could get a lot of cock in her mouth. Her slight overbite helped out, and her willingness to hold her breath and fight her gag reflex had more than three quarters of my 7-incher inside of her mouth when she went deep.
Reading my mind, Glenda took the time to bite my cock at various depths – the base, the middle, on my circumcision scar, at the head, at the tip. Her nipping and stroking made this one of the best head jobs I ever experienced, and coupled with the novelty of a new lover, had me heading for the falls at a rapid pace. Her ass was up in the air next to my cheek and I begged her to squat on my face, an offer she refused for the moment. In no time it was over, she had sucked the life out of my stiffness, making a nice mess in the process.
Glenda wiped her cheek and laid down beside me, both of us still breathing a little heavily. “What did you mean when you called me a ‘Good witch?’” she asked.
“From the Wizard of Oz movie – Glenda was the good witch of the North,” I explained. “That’s the only woman named Glenda that I’ve ever heard of until I met you.”
“Oh, I’m not familiar with the movie,” she said, twirling my chest hair in her fingers.
“It’s an American classic. I’m certain Shannon has seen it – they run it all the time,” I said. “And Glenda was a knockout. Best looking witch I ever saw, until I met you,” I said, tickling her tight belly.
“Well, I’m not a witch. But I can play one in the bedroom, if you like…” she said, moving her hand down to my cock once again. Thanks to modern medicine, I responded as soon as she caressed me, stiffening in her hand. We kissed again and she rolled her leg over my body, sitting up and straddling me with her pussy just south of my pecker.
“Well, we’ve got our ‘friskies’ out of the way… don’t you think it’s time we had a proper roll in the hay?” she asked, leaning over to kiss me again. Her hand stroked my cock as I let both of her modest breasts fall into the palms of my hands. Her kiss was deep and sensuous, and her tits felt like nice little softballs with rock-hard Hershey’s Kisses on the tips. She moved both hands behind my head and kissed me like I was her first boyfriend. It was intoxicating.
Glenda slid forward and began to rub her pussy up and down along my shaft, which was now almost up to 100 percent. She was still totally wet, and her labia were slight outies, riding along both sides of my cock like a hotdog bun. Her clit was still stiff, and I could actually feel it when it ran off the end of my cock, only to slide back down on the downstroke. Glenda’s breathing was already picking up as she pressed down and rocked back and forth. We broke from our kiss and she closed her eyes to concentrate as she slid along my dick.
“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” I asked in surprise. No answer.
Glenda picked up the pace another notch, sliding up and down, finally reaching between her legs to pull the head of my dick up hard against her clit and continuing her motion.
“Oh Jim – this is so good,” she said, punctuating her words with humps of her hips. Her strokes were shorter now – just running her clit over the head of my cock and quickly back down. Her pussy was a hot wet mess. I wanted to plant my pecker deep in her pussy, but I was fascinated by watching and feeling her get herself off on my hardness without any penetration. I had to focus to not get carried away – this should be making me come like a firehose, but I was enjoying watching Glenda get carried away on her own wave of pleasure…
She continued to pick up her pace, eyes closed, straddling me, on her knees and one hand, with the other rubbing my cock on her magic button, oblivious to any other distraction in the world. I removed my right hand from her tit and ran it slowly down her back, stopping at her ass. I put my other arm around her back in a giant man-hug, and gently probed her ass with my middle finger. She collapsed on my chest and hugged me
back, her pussy still stroking my cock and my finger teasing her asshole. That’s all it took…
“Oh fuck…” she said, humping hard on my cock. “Oh fuck me…” she said, her breath coming in wild gulps as she slid along my manhood, her pussy spreading more and more wetness. Three, four, five giant humps, and she collapsed on my chest again. Her ass had puckered on my finger in time with her orgasmic contractions, but I never put it in farther than a half inch, so there was no real “pulling out” after her event. I felt like such a fucking stud.
I kissed her neck again as her breathing began to normalize. Again, it was a sweet salty sweat I tasted, and I relished in it as I tried to kiss my way from one side of her neck to the other, careful not to leave any hickies. Glenda giggled again, and sat up slightly.
“God, you’re sensitive!” I told my little minx. “Am I that good, or do you come that easily?” I said, actually wanting to know.
“I come pretty easy. But you are good…”
“Good? I didn’t do anything!” I protested.
“Well, being there is half of the job. Didn’t you ever hear that? You were nice to me and nice to my daughter. And I have needs,” she said, wiggling her pussy on my cock.
“And speaking of that,” she said, sliding up enough that the head of my cock was now at her love tunnel entrance. She reached down and pulled up the head of my now-straining cock… sliding downward I entered her velvet glove in a slow and easy manner. She settled down, letting my cock slowly expand into her wetness
until it was fully planted inside my little English rose. Glenda blushed again as she seated herself on my cock.
“Want to do something now? You said you didn’t do anything… now it’s your turn…” she said teasingly.
“How many times can you come?” I asked her, slowly pulling out and reinserting myself.
“Four, five, six… how high can you count?” she replied, exhaling on the instroke and leaning her little hands on my chest.
“Damn, you’re a lucky girl,” I said, closing my eyes and humping my hips upward to bury my pecker a bit deeper in her wetlands. Her pussy was like a warm wet sleeve, tight yet loose, warm and wet. I met resistance with every stroke, yet that resistance faded to willingness on every stroke. For a woman of her age, Glenda had a pussy any man would dream of. And she lubricated like a 17-year-old Prom Queen.
Glenda again leaned down to kiss me. Damn, she was a romantic chick… I put both arms around her and rolled her on her back. “I love making love to you,” I said. “But I think you need to get fucked, Glenda.”
“Fuck me coach… bury your cock in me,” she said, legs spread and knees falling apart.
“God you’re so fucking hot,” I said, pumping myself into her wetness, out bodies adjusting to get the depth and friction we both yearned for.
“Lift me up with your cock… penetrate me baby…” she said, holding my cheeks in her hands and looking deep in my eyes. As I stroked into her, Glenda’s eyes slowly closed and she rocked her hips forward as I pounded into her at a semi-frenzied pace.
With her shaved pussy lips and her hips thrust forward, my cock was as deep as I have ever experienced – I was hitting “bottom” on every stroke. Her legs were open as far as I could imagine, and there was nothing to stop us from coupling any deeper except our own bodies – my balls and her pussy. And boy, did we take advantage.
I continued to pound her pussy in a steady rhythym, and in no more than 45 seconds, Glenda started to come again. Her hands wrapped around my neck, legs spread to the max, Glenda humped her cunt against me and squeezed for all she was worth. “Oh! OOOh! OOOhhhhh! NNNNgggggg.” she cried as her pussy let go another wave of wetness.
I managed to hold off my orgasm to let her come back to earth. I couldn’t believe I got her to come without even touching her clit. But that gave me another idea. As her breathing came back, I stroked Glenda’s back and front… just making sure every square inch of her body was getting attention. Then I made my move for the pussy.
“No, I’m too sensitive,” she protested, trying to keep my head from going below her bikini line.
“You’re gonna need a muzzle if you don’t want me to eat that pussy,’ I told her, chuckling to myself, since this was a common phrase we used at work.
Glenda relented and let my taste her sweetness. It was wonderful.
And true to form, Glenda began to hump my face almost as soon as I picked up a beat. I circled her clit with my tongue and poked a finger gently inside, once again pressing her pee-hole against her pubic bone. She loved that, but evidently loved it a bit deeper, as she slid down until my finger was all the way inside, stroking her G-spot from the inside while I teased her little love mountain. In no time, I was seeing her ‘oooh face’ again.
“Oh God, Jim… oh God…… don’t stop…. Ahh ahh ahhhh NNNNNggggg” and she ground her pussy into my mouth, humping furiously. I didn’t let up until she forced my head off her pussy. I hadn’t sucked hard enough to give her a hickey, but it was close. Glenda was exhausted, flushed and sweaty. “Man that was good,” she said.
I slid up her slender frame and almost apologetically slipped my cock into her soaking-wet pussy. Glenda put her arms around me and drew my face to hers. “Make love to me, coach.”
I did just that. For the next fifteen minutes Glenda and I made slow, delicious love. Her pussy was a complete wet mess, and my cock wavered here and there, eventually rallying for a nice finale. Not bad for a guy in his late 40s, I thought.
When we got near the end, Glenda once again pulled her legs in the air to give me complete, unfettered access to her womanhood. My cock reached its’ all-time length and strength, boning my little princess as hard and as deep as any girl I have ever had the luck to bone. Glenda tightened up her pussy and pulled my face to hers in a deep French kiss as I unloaded three, four, five squirts into her little frame. The feeling was fantastic. Her already-drenched pussy, filled with a new hot load – the slipperyness was off the scale.
Glenda’s smile as we came off our high made it all worthwhile. “Thanks for the extra practice, coach,” she said, again with the cute accent and tiny giggle.
“Aw, shit – what about Shannon?” I asked, concerned that her little one might be disappointed that I wasn’t really going to give her hitting practice.
“I made her Dad jealous – he’s been giving her hitting practice all day – while you were here…” she said. “Giving ME some hitting practice.”
Fair trade, Glenda. Fair trade…
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