I was an Easy Target Ch. 02

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Big Tits

This is a continuation of a story about the sex-starved older woman next door who found a way to scratch her itch with me when I was a young man. The previous episode ended after our first sexual episode and the promise of a return engagement.


The next day Arleen called me at work. “I just wanted to thank you again,” she said. “Last night was everything I’d hoped for. I can’t wait until Tuesday.”

I told her I had enjoyed it too.

“Why don’t you come to my house, Tuesday?” she suggested. “Jacob will be at work. I’ll make us a nice dinner and then we can get down to business.”

I agreed, and next Tuesday I pulled into my driveway after work and walked in my front door planning to change out of my suit before walking over to Arleen’s. As I walked in I smelled a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen, and looked to see Arleen at the stove dressed in an apron and nothing else.

“Well hello!” I greeted her, surprised. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“I realized that it would be unfair to Jacob to entertain a gentleman in his house,” she explained, turning toward me as she put down the spoon she’d been using to stir sauce. “So I came and tried the door. When I found it unlocked, I went back and got my things and came on over.”

She saw me looking around with wonder I my eyes. “I got here in time to clean house, too. I dusted and vacuumed and did a couple loads of laundry. I figure I need to compensate you some way, and I don’t have any money.”

She then saw me admiring her naked form under the apron. “I don’t have any sexy clothes or negligee,” she said, “so I figured this was the next best thing.”

With that she put her arms around me and kissed me warmly. There was something different about her. There was no melting in my arms, this time. Empowered by the success of her seduction, Arleen was taking charge. The meek, needy, horny wife was replaced by a woman who had, in her own mind and to her own satisfaction, resolved her issues, and left guilt behind,

I was pretty much at a loss for words, but I’m afraid I was grinning like a fool.

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes?” she suggested. “We have about 20 minutes before dinner is ready, and I could use an appetizer.” She followed me to the bedroom as I shed clothes and she shed her apron. I sat on the side of the bed to pull off my trousers, and as soon as they were out of the way she knelt in front of me and took my sudden stiffie in her mouth.

I was surprised by her skill at giving head. After all, it had been 15 years since she had been sexually involved with a man, and you might have thought she’d be rusty. It must be like riding a bicycle, I decided, as her tongue swilled around my cock head and her hands began to slowly pump my shaft.

She wasted no time on niceties or sweet talk. She was determined to cum before dinner, so as soon as my cock was hard enough to do the deed, she pushed me back onto the mattress and straddled me. She reached back with her right hand and rubbed my dick head back and forth on her wet womanhood. She began to moan as she worked me over her clit, then all at once, she aimed my spear and lowered herself onto it, burying me in her velvet sleeve. I was lying back and she was riding me like I was a motorcycle and she was negotiating a slalom course.

“Oh, that feels so good,” she moaned as my hips began to thrust in sync with her movements. “Keep doing that,” she instructed me. Her slightly saggy boobs were waving right in front of me as we rocked, so I reached up and fondled one with each hand. When I pinched one of her nipples, she cried, “Oh yes, do that! Pinch harder. Hurt me a little.” So I did. I pinched and twisted and squeezed both nipples while moving my hands in little circles kneading her breasts.

“I hope you’re ready, because I’m going to cum,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Cum with me, Patrick, let’s cum together.” And we did. Her orgasm was brief, but appeared to be very intense. Mine was longer and slower, as I felt my jism flood her. The squishy sound of sex got squishier, and a beautiful smile lit up her face. It seemed as though each time I looked at her my appreciation of her looks got stronger. I had gone from thinking of her as plain and not very attractive to now regarding her as a pretty woman. I had only a moment to reflect on this as we had no sooner come down off our erotic high than the stove bell went off.

“I’m going to run in to the bathroom for a second, then I’ll go get dinner on the table,” she told me. You can clean up while I serve us up.” With that she climbed off the bed and left me lying there. When I heard her flush I got up and took care of things, then headed to the dining room.

Dinner was delicious, and as we ate we enjoyed looking at each other’s naked bodies. She asked me to tell her a little about myself. I told her about having grown up in the suburbs, going off to college, and then taking my job in our small city. She asked about my love life, and I told her I had had bakırköy escort a couple of girlfriends in high school, but my first sexual experience was in college, with a girl I dated for three years, before she cheated with, then dumped me for my roommate. We had enjoyed a very lively sex life, but her betrayal had crushed my spirit, and I had not dated since. I’d had a couple of rolls in the hay with random women, but no relationships.

“Well, I hope the arrangement I plan to have with you will not mess with your head too much,” she said, gently. “Because what I would like is to be able to get together with you once in a while for a little no-strings sex. I don’t want to hurt my husband – he’s a good man and he has given me a home and the kind of stability I never had before in my life. If he would take me to bed I would be satisfied with him for the rest of our lives. But he won’t, and a girl has needs…”

I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I have to tell you that there is a young woman at work who has me interested,” I told her. “We’ve had lunch together a couple of times, and we seem to get along well. I don’t know if this will lead to anything or not, but I feel like I’m ready to have a serious and loving relationship with the right woman. If it isn’t this girl, I hope it will be somebody else, soon. All that having been said, I like you, and I understand the frustration you’ve been experiencing. If I can scratch your itch once in a while I think that would be fine. It isn’t as though you’re asking me to do something unpleasant! Sex with you is very enjoyable.

“I have to tell you that the idea that I’m interfering in another man’s marriage makes me apprehensive and uncomfortable,” I continued. “But under the circumstances as you’ve explained them I’d be honored to be your fuck buddy.”

With that, she got up and cleared the table, saying, “I’ll just put these things in the sink and let’s get back to the business of the evening.” She gathered the plates and silverware and headed for the kitchen, kissing me on the cheek as she passed by. Her breast brushed the back of my neck, and I felt that familiar tingling in my loins.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I heard her fussing and rinsing dishes, and the next thing I knew she was standing in the bedroom doorway looking at me. I was lying on my back, head on my pillow, cock at full mast.

As she crawled onto the bed beside me she said, “We have a little time tonight. Jacob won’t be home until 8:30 or so. Do you mind if we just enjoy closeness for a while before we fuck again?”

“Fine with me,” I said, and I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tender hug. We kissed gently and sweetly – our urgent before-dinner session had taken the edge off her craving for raw sex. Our hands began to explore each other’s bodies, rubbing here, tickling there, all the while kissing sweetly. I began to move down her body and took her left nipple in my mouth while gently squeezing her breast. She was older than the girls I had dated, so her breast felt less firm, and softer. She responded to my ministrations, moaning a bit as I reached for the other breast with my other hand, tweaking the nipple a bit and squeezing.

“That feels good, keep doing that for a little bit,” she said. I did, but as I heard her breath become a little more rapid and the sounds from her throat a little louder I moved my mouth south, kissing softly as I slowly moved down her front. I got a giggle from her when I stuck my tongue in her navel and wiggled. Then I resumed moving down. As I got past her waist I moved to the left, bypassing her mons, and kissed my way down her thigh to her foot. I sucked on her big toe for just a moment – again I got a giggle – and then I began to move up the inside of her leg with little kisses.

When I got up to that wonderful soft area on the inside of her thigh she began to squirm. Just before I reached her oozing pussy I switched sides, and kissed my way down the front of her right leg. Again I sucked her big toe for just a moment, then began moving up the inside of her

right leg, just as I had done with the left. I went very slowly up the inside of her right thigh, delighting in the soft, smooth skin and the rising smell of excitement coming from her sex.

This time I did not tease her. When I got to the top of her thigh my lips slid smoothly onto her vulva. I kissed her nether lips first on one side, then the other, then worked my way from the bottom of her slit to the top, where I played with her clit with the tip of my stiffened tongue. Back and forth, over and under I tantalized her with only the very tip touching her. Then I moved back down, exploring the folds between her labia and occasionally kissing when I sensed that I had reached a sensitive spot. When I reached her vaginal opening I suddenly stiffened my tongue and stuck it as far in as it would go, trying to make it feel like a cock. At that she began to squirm harder.

I beşiktaş escort locked my arms around her thighs and pressed my mouth against her. No more playfulness, my lips and my tongue went to work lapping, kissing, licking, sucking up and down, back and forth over and over. I could feel the excitement rising in her loins. The stronger her writhing, the stronger my mouth worked on her, until she exploded with an eruption of an orgasm. Pussy juice flowed onto my face and ran down my chin and wave after wave of thrill coursed through her body. I never let up with my lips and tongue and even bit her clit softly between my teeth, making her scream. I was relentless, and she was bucking and twisting and thrusting her hips, like a bronco trying to throw its rider. I wouldn’t be thrown, though. With my arms locked around her legs there was no escape for her from my ever-quickening assault on her most sensitive parts.

Her orgasms kept coming – I counted three, then four, then the fourth just seemed to continue without abating. She was moaning and groaning like a wild animal with its leg in a trap. I was getting so involved in what I was doing that I forgot to breathe, my tongue in her vagina and my nose pressed against her clit.

I honestly don’t know how long we went on like that – it might have been minutes, it seemed like forever. Finally we both were spent, and she collapsed back on the bed, lowering her hips and letting it all go. I lifted my face from her snatch, covered with her love potion and, I suppose, some of my own cum from our earlier fucking. I smiled up at her. She was panting and she looked down at me through dazed eyes. “How was that?” I asked.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she whispered, hoarsely. “Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. My first husband would stick his cock in me, pump a few times, grunt and cum. I have read stories about girls getting eaten and the thrill of good sex, but I never thought I would experience it myself. Thank you, Patrick, thank you. Now it’s your turn. Bring that big beautiful cock up her and let me pleasure you.”

“No, you already have, before dinner, remember? Let’s now pleasure each other the old fashioned way,” I said as I moved back up and over her and pushed my raging hard-on into her. This was slower, smoother, and far more satisfying than the frantic fucking we’d done before. We took it easy and each of us focused on finding ways to give the other maximum pleasure. It was simply exquisite sex – the kind of sex that usually only occurs between lovers, and hardly ever between casual fuckbuddies.

Eventually we came together. It was no thrilling explosion this time. Our climaxes came on slowly, coursed through us pleasantly, and left us with warm and soothing contentment.

All at once Arleen startled and started frantically trying to get up. “I lost track of the time! Jacob!” She dashed for the bathroom and I saw it was 8:10. I pulled clothes out of the tote bag she had brought with her. She showered quickly, and I handed her the towel. As soon as she dried off I began handing her clothes and she slipped into them.

She was out the door at 8:25 and dashed to her house, getting in and closing the door just moments before Jacob’s car came up the street and pulled into the driveway. She had left her tote and toiletries behind, saying she’d sneak over the next day to retrieve them if I’d leave the door unlocked again, which I did.

She called me the next day to thank me again, and I of course thanked her as well, and thanked her for the chores she had done at my house. We agreed that a repeat engagement was in order, but both of us agreed that we needed to slow things down. Neither of us wanted to get caught and hurt Jacob, and neither of us wanted to fall for the other, which seemed inevitable if we kept this up.

Eventually we settled into a regular pattern of getting together the fourth Thursday of every month, when Jacob would be at church. She always came over early and cleaned house before I got home from work. Then a complication arose. My friendship with the young lady at work had developed into a romantic relationship, and eventually a physical relationship. I kept Arleen in the loop as things developed, and she encouraged me to go for it. She made very clear that while she wanted to continue our monthly visits, she did not want to stand in the way of my future happiness.

Connie knew that I had a regular recurring activity on Thursday evenings, but I had not really told her what was going on. She was spending more and more time at my house – she even brought clothes from her apartment so she could dress for work without having to go home. But on our once-a-month Thursday date night with Arleen, she knew I’d be “going to my therapist” so she stayed home or went out with friends, not returning until later.

One day when Connie was at my house Arleen came over to “borrow some butter” for a recipe she was making. I introduced the two women in my life and they seemed to hit beylikdüzü escort it off well. They chatted for a little while and then Arleen went home and I decided my relationship with Connie had advanced to the point that I needed to come clean.

“Sit down, Connie, and let’s turn off the TV for a few minutes. I have something I need to tell you about,” I said. We sat down in the living room and I began to explain about Arleen, choosing my words very carefully.

“About a year ago,” I began, “Arleen came into my life in an unusual way. A package had been left on my doorstep that was intended for her, so I ran it over and left it on her porch. The next day she brought me cookies by way of thanking me, and we chatted a bit. She began leaving little notes stuck in the door, and finally one day she came into the house and made the strangest request I’ve ever had.

“Arleen explained that her husband was a religious man and believed that for a man and woman to have sex at any time other than for the purpose of conceiving a child was a sin. And he didn’t want children. So she had been living without intimate physical contact for the entire term of her marriage, 15 years. She asked me, almost begged me, to take her to bed and give her sexual release. Of course I hesitated, because I did not want to put myself in the middle of somebody else’s marriage. But she explained that in reality I’d be saving her marriage, because if she could not have sex once in a while she would be forced to leave her husband and seek an annulment for ‘failure to consummate’ the marriage.

“I really did not know what to do. My scruples said ‘no,’ but of course as a healthy young man I had urges as well. And while she’s not drop dead gorgeous, she’s not hard on the eyes either. Ultimately I let her persuade me to take her to bed and take her, and I did. The next week we had a return engagement, and then we settled into a once a month pattern – often enough to trim her horns but not so often that would take on the appearance of an affair. Arleen chose Thursday nights because her husband Jacob would be volunteering at church until 8:30.”

Connie just stared at me. “You mean that for as long as we’ve been involved you’ve been sneaking off once a month to fuck the neighbor lady? Married neighbor lady?”

“Well, technically she comes here, but yeah, that’s what’s been happening.”

“And her husband knows nothing about it?”

“We have tried to be very discrete, and he evidently doesn’t have a clue. Look, we have become friends, but there’s no romantic attachment. I am literally just helping her to get off once a month because she can’t get it any other way. She doesn’t work outside the house, her husband has her more or less trapped at home without a car when he’s a work, and he expects her to live like a nun. She doesn’t share his very fundamentalist religious views, and she has normal needs and desires. The only other people she knows are people from his church, and they certainly are not candidates to provide the service I do.”

Connie closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, visage downcast and hands clasped in her lap. “Jesus. And I suppose now you are telling me this because you feel guilty and feel like you need my permission or acquiescence to go forward. Because it sounds like you intend to continue to be her monthly human dildo. Which brings to mind the question, why don’t you just buy her a damn dildo and be done with it?”

“With a dildo there’s no closeness, no intimacy.” (Oh shit, I thought, I just stepped in it. I just got done telling her that there is no romantic attachment, and now this is going to make her wonder. I blundered ahead, hoping to recapture whatever initiative I might have had.)

“I know this is a lot to take in, especially since I think you and I may be headed toward a long and happy life together. At least I hope so. You’ve met Arleen, and knowing both of you I really think you might become friends. Why don’t you discuss this with her and see if her explanation of her feelings and needs might affect your attitude toward the whole thing. Because I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel some degree of obligation to Arleen after all these months.”

So that’s what she did. In fact, she took the next afternoon off work and went to Arleen’s house to talk to her and try to understand our peculiar arrangement. Connie told me later that they talked for three hours, sharing their life stories and their feelings toward me. Arleen told Connie about her screwed up childhood with an abusive father, and about her ill-advised first marriage to an immature boy who wound up going to prison, and who was a selfish and inexperienced lover. She told her about how she had been befriended at the homeless shelter by Jacob, and they had married in an arrangement of convenience.

By the time they parted company, Connie had decided that she could live with our monthly trysts, at least until she and I got married and formalized our relationship. She continued to make herself scarce on our appointment nights. Arleen continued to come early on our appointed Thursdays to clean house – her way of compensating me for my service. And she and Connie did, in fact, become friends. As a matter of fact, Connie loaned Arleen a book she had bought – “The Joy of Sex.”

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