Helen”s thoughts drifted to her son. He was eighteen years old when things started to happen. His gangly body, just starting to fill out, was far too tall for the weight it carried. Girls found him a bit awkward; consequently, he was extremely shy. Painfully so. He could barely talk without stammering while his adrenaline levels increased with his fear. A few girls told him he had potential, but seemed unwilling to wait for it to blossom. He had been told he looked like his dad who had died years ago and he often looked at a picture of his father hoping he would indeed look like him some day. He hadn’t realized that day was fast approaching. Chris Anderson was his father’s name and his too, since Helen had named him after her dead husband. Chris Sr. had died so young while saving the life of another in an industrial accident. That accident forced the company to pay Helen enough to raise her children and she worked at a local hardware store to earn money for the extras. In time, she moved into management at headquarters downtown and often worked late. Helen became a career woman, no longer needing that kind of money but enjoying the work, with little time other than that she spent with her children.
It was no mischance Helen was an incredibly attractive woman. She knew full well it was her attractiveness that had successfully won Chris Sr. from the bevy of beauties who swarmed around him in his youth. With sadness, Helen realized her son was not enjoying similar success; she didn”t understand her husband had gone through the same pain before she met him. Chris Sr.”s gentleness and unassuming disposition came from that time in his life and had been one of the reasons Helen was so attracted to him. One of the consequences her children suffered was not having their dad to explain his own problems while growing up.
Chris’ older sister, Jill, had blossomed rapidly at puberty. She grew into her femininity and with such exquisite beauty that no man from six to one-hundred failed to notice. If he breathed, he wanted her. Jill”s genetic endowments came from both her tall, handsome father and her equally beautiful mother. Unfortunately, this brought out the high school males who had more brawn than brain and the corresponding high personal opinion. Their constant groping, innuendo and general harassment frightened and embarrassed Jill. It caused a change in her. She went from one of the most popular, vivacious girls in the school to one of the most dowdy. At one time, Jill had put her contemporaries to shame with dress and manner. Now, she scurried through the hall in clothes that hid her figure; her arms tightly folded across her bosom to hide it from those same self-described “God”s gift to women”.
The harassment slowly changed her personality. What happened to Jill was a condemnation of the entire male subspecies. Sadly, the very ones who caused her grief were also too stupid to notice her withdrawal. They drifted away when Jill”s sexuality was put under wraps and further exacerbated the problem by demonstrating that her tactic was successful. Her loneliness multiplied. Jill didn’t want to discuss this with her highly stressed mother whose time seemed so limited lately. Instead, she turned to her brother Chris, crying on his shoulder in her loneliness and humiliation. They became best friends and loved each other strongly as brother and sister. They both felt they had similar problems. In his youth, Chris didn”t understand that what had been done to his sister, albeit unintentionally, had more severe long-term consequences than his own innate shyness. Helen felt idle hands were the Devil’s hands, so they both worked odd jobs in the community. Their meager wages allowed the occasional show like the one they now attended together, forsaking the pain of dating. Meals out together became times of pleasure for them. Jill began to use her younger brother as her only confidant. She relayed all of her problems to him and with surprising maturity, Chris attempted to console, help or joke, depending on the situation.
Their next-door neighbor provided Chris with a steady diet of chores: lawn and garden one day, Mr. Fix-It the next, painter the next. She was an incredible lady; forty years old, but she had a swing to her step that suggested twenty. Miss Sue Wright often took his mother to the local gym to work out, as she was religious about it and attended five times a week. It certainly put a bounce in her walk that Chris noticed. She wasn’t a sexual fantasy. She was simply the very pretty, out-going, funny next-door neighbor that had him laughing all the time. She was fun to be near, constantly observing the funnier side of life, pointing out the foibles of fellow humans as well as her own, all without rancor. When she wasn’t joking with him or at work, she exercised on her machines and maintained a trim figure normally seen only in the young.
As summer began, Sue noticed Chris’ body was beginning to fill out. She saw a gorgeous hunk of man emerging. Her excellent heath and constant exercise fueled a sexual appetite she loved to satisfy. She began to notice the boy next door in a new light. He might be young, but only slightly off-limits. She changed her dress and deportment and in his presence, became more sexually explicit in her body language. She brought him cool drinks while he worked; yet, he didn”t notice her dress became skimpier, showing her more-than-adequate feminine charms. Women never noticed Chris, so he never noticed the changes in Sue. This frustrated her to no end. She was used to getting men, so his lack of interest intrigued her. She was determined to have that boy.
One day, when Chris was painting the outside of her home, she brought him a cool drink dressed in her skimpiest bikini. He showed absolutely no reaction. However, he had stripped off his shirt and stood there in shorts, his head thrown back drinking. The perspiration streaming over his washboard stomach caused her nipples to harden. Damn that boy! What was a girl to do? She waited until he was painting her exercise room window frames before beginning a workout, still wearing the bikini. She spread her legs and thrust up with her hips trying to show off, but the paintbrush didn’t slow down. She gyrated, heaved, thrust and pulled; doing everything in her exercise arsenal that might be taken sexually, yet the paintbrush continued.
Trying to make it appear an accident, she hooked her bikini strap against the workout bench, stuck out her chest and forced the strap. It worked beautifully. Her bikini top sprang from her body, revealing her abundant charms. Sue stood, grabbed a towel and wiped the perspiration from between her pendulous breasts. Catching him in the periphery of her vision, she saw the paintbrush had finally stopped. There he stood, a wild animal caught in the headlights of a car, his eyes riveted on her breasts. She continued to wipe and made sure they bounced and jiggled with her motions. Finally, she turned and left the room. She had his full attention. There may have been an extra sway to her bottom, but even she wasn”t sure.
He was stunned. They were fantastic. They were also surprising. In his fantasies, he”d never considered a woman’s nipples would be lower than his own. He always thought they”d be in the same place on everyone”s chest. Her nipples appeared to be a full inch below his, because her breasts were quite large. They were so white and a dramatic contrast to her dark tan. The sight caused an immediate physical change. Things became so tight; he had to adjust. That night, Sue was his sexual fantasy and in his mind, he reviewed her breasts again and again. The next day, he told his sister what he had seen, confiding in her as she had confided in him. Chris didn’t realize he was treading in a minefield of emotions, emotions she didn’t know she possessed.
Sue was a woman of the world. When she walked out of the room, she fully realized a night of thinking would only kindle his desire to see more. That was exactly what she wanted as she waited and watched him paint the house the next day. By one o”clock, he was thoroughly hot and sweaty, so she invited him in to enjoy a cool drink. As she looked at him across the table, she understood this boy’s body did things for her; things she’d dreamt of in bed while draining her batteries.
“Did you enjoy what you saw yesterday?” she asked, her voice coming out lower, softer, sultrier than expected. This boy really affected her. “Don’t worry,” she said, as he remained silent and too frightened to speak. “You saw what I wanted you to see and hope you want to see again. Are you old enough not to speak of this to anyone?” He could only nod his head, his mouth too dry to speak. He started to pick up the glass to take a sip, but his hands shook so badly he had to set it down immediately. His mouth remained dry as she asked if he would like to see more. Again, he nodded. She stood, took his hand and led him to her bedroom. Her bottom came under his scrutiny for the first time; the muscles flexed and relaxed, swaying with the cadence of her walk. Until this moment, he hadn’t noticed Sue”s beauty. She wasn”t his fantasy; she was the woman that made him laugh, his next-door neighbor. He wasn’t laughing now. His mouth felt filled with the dust stirred by a thousand camels. He swirled his tongue, providing some relief and swallowing several times in the process. She turned and pulled off her tube-top; once again revealing her breasts to his gaze, this time close up and personal. Her voice was an octave lower when she asked again whether he liked what he saw.
“Yes,” he croaked as one hand lifted, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Noticing his shaking hand, she consoled, “Don’t worry, Honey. That’s just your hormones playing with your body. I”m the first woman you’ve seen, aren’t I?”
Without waiting for a reply, she took his trembling hand and placed it on her breast. Trying not to spook him, she casually explained what she liked when a man touched her breasts. She explained her nipples were very sensitive and she liked having them suckled. The areolas were also extremely reactive and were open to licking, touching, and sucking. “Sometimes,” she laughed, “I like having my whole breast sucked or at least as much as you can get in your mouth.”
She stood before him; her breasts proudly on display to his sight and touch. They stood there, stripped to the waist, still in their shorts and underwear. He lifted one breast and marveled at its weighty softness, a full heaviness he loved. Sue placed a hand at the back of his head and brought his face close to her peaked nipple. He did the rest by opening his mouth and ingesting the nipple into warm, wet velvet that elicited a heavy sigh from Sue. The messages being sent to her twat and thighs were exquisite. “May I show you more?” she asked, waiting for the nod telling her to go ahead.
Stepping back, Sue sucked in her stomach and unbuttoned the top of her shorts. Slowly, she tugged the zipper allowing the flaps of the shorts to fall away. This permitted the top of her hairy pubes and the patch of semi-transparent black that formed part of her underwear to show. With a few wiggles of her hips, Sue dropped the shorts to the floor and stepped out. Her wide, flaring hips were exposed as well as a wisp of material, the tiniest thong she could find. The thong was more a cache de sex than underwear and she knew it enhanced her feminine curves.
Chris stood frozen; only his eyes moved, traversing her body. “God, your gorgeous,” he managed to gasp.
This boy did things for her. Sue undulated to him, slowly pressing her body against his. Her breasts amorously pressed against his chest, her pelvis ground against the hardness she felt between their abdomens. He was still in his shorts. Wrapping him in her arms, she placed her lips against his testing with her tongue. When his mouth opened, she drove her tongue into his sweet mouth, still erotically circling her hips against his belly working the hardness between them. She allowed their lower regions to become slightly unglued as she unbuttoned the top of his shorts and pulled the zipper down. She shoved both shorts and boxers to the floor, grabbed his hardness and clamped it between her thighs before he had a chance to protest or react. Their kiss resumed as though it had never been interrupted only this time with a back and forth motion of her hips. Chris’ hands nervously grasped her buttocks and pulled her up tight against him, his body shaking with tension. Her cache de sex was exceedingly wet from her fuck honey. Suddenly, he came between her legs, slathering her inner thighs with his warm spunk. She felt his spew with her fingertips and then looking him straight in the eye, sucked them clean. Oh, this boy did things to her.
She led him to her bed and he almost fell as his shorts caught around his ankles. She grabbed him, supported him, as they fell into bed together. They lay on their sides facing each other. Her hands encouraged him to explore her body. When he started to feel her up thoroughly, she left him to his own resources. First, he thoroughly explored her breasts. Then, hearing no protest from her, his hands wandered lower. The softness of her flesh, particularly above her pubic bush where the dome of a well-toned woman always existed, was exquisite. As his hand entered her beaver, she rolled to her back and spread her legs for him. His hand cupped her sex.
He was surprised by the dampness clinging to her cache de sex. For a moment, he thought it was perspiration; then understood, there was too much and it was sticky. He brought his hand to his mouth and tasted, for the very first time, the nectar of a woman in heat. She happily noted he was orally inclined, since she didn”t want to be with a man who found a woman’s juices distasteful. It was time to get rid of the cache de sex, so she lifted her hips and he immediately understood. He slid the tiny thong under her rounded bum, down her long legs and off of her ankles. As the thong came off, her aroma became stronger. Chris” fingers delved at her opening, scooped her fresh sweetness and brought it to his nose to smell; looking into her eyes, he licked it from his fingers. Good, he learned quickly. Oh, this boy did things to her.
As the older person, she felt it was again time for her to take the lead. She rolled him over onto his back and knelt beside him, watching his shaft lift with a pulse that matched his heartbeat. He was ready again. Oh, the recovery rate of an eighteen year old! Sue placed one knee beside his head then threw the other leg over him, facing his beautiful cock. She knelt with her sex totally exposed to his gaze. He hadn’t realized an aroused woman presented differently than one with no interest. He had accidentally walked in on his mother and sister once or twice. There had been nothing to see except pubic hair. It had embarrassed, rather than aroused him and left him stammering out an apology as he backed out of the room. Chris now saw a totally aroused woman. The engorged outer lips spread to allow the swollen inner lips to emerge. The dewy moisture formed on them, while the whole ensemble radiated heat. Sue”s cunt needed his immediate attention He gripped her hips drawing her down to his face.
That touch; ah, Sue had waited for that touch. She collapsed onto his body, her breasts crushed against his abdomen, squeezing out on either side. Her hot mouth sucked in his dick as his tongue entered her folds. Chris found her taste was incredible. He licked and sucked trying to pull her delicious fuck honey into his mouth. Sue’s body exploded on his tongue. He had difficulty holding her in place, so he wrapped his arms around her hips. Her hips writhed on his mouth. Her stomach muscles forced her sex onto his tongue. Her timing was off. She had planned to orgasm when he did in her mouth, but she had been played with too long and it overwhelmed her. God, he didn’t even know where her clit was and she was coming like a virgin. She’d soon teach him where her clit was! Oh, this boy did things to her.
Sue lay on top of him, his sex hard and rampant filling her mouth. She enjoyed the feeling of the head allowing the moisture forming in her mouth to run down his shaft. Her hand gently stroked his hard-on with her saliva. Her tongue swirled and checked the shape of the flesh she still craved, even after the crisis had calmed. Tranquil now due to her orgasm, she softly gave him what she thought of as a thorough cunt kiss. She thought of the similarities and differences of the two kisses; kisses only a sexually confident woman could skillfully bestow. She had enjoyed several cunt kisses in her time. Still, she knew a cunt kiss could be intoxicating, so she tried her best to make his first the most memorable. Sue gently pushed and gyrated her core firmly against his lips and felt his cock begin to thrust into her mouth with the tiniest of strokes. Though he was inexperienced, his consideration of her comfort made for an extremely good lover.
Sue increased the speed of her strokes, sucking with an intensity that hollowed her cheeks. He removed his mouth from her sex lips and groaned that he was coming. With her body, she returned his message. That was exactly what she wanted, so she clamped her sex against his mouth as her strokes increased in vigor. The taste of male suddenly erupted into her mouth satisfying a craving that a lusty woman has for a man. As she spun around to kiss him with her mouth mixing his taste with her own, she made the decision as to whether she would fuck him or train him. Her lust was overpowering, but her maturity won out. Training would pay future dividends. This was too incredible to do only once.
Sue put her arms around him, holding him to her, and rolled over on her back taking him with her. She drove her tongue deeply into his mouth. His hands were on her buns pushing her pelvis against his. “Sugar,” she crooned softly, “I want you to look carefully between my legs and kiss me there, remembering there is only one thing I like better than a tongue in me.”
She spread her legs as he moved into a position where he could examine her most intimate charms. As he lay between her legs, she slid both hands down her body until they rested on her inner thighs. A finger from each hand on her engorged outer lips pulled both further apart. Wantonly, Sue thrust upwards bringing her ass off the bed and indicting with her body her desire to have more contact with him. Then, settling back on to the bed and holding her outer cunt lips fully apart, she began to explain in her most steamy voice where she wanted his tongue to touch her. With one finger or another, she occasionally pointed to a new location where she wanted his tongue, slowly bringing his attention to the top of her crevice where the hood no longer hid her swollen clit. She told him to take note of how a woman moved her body; those movements are the clue as to where and how to touch her next. She showed him her bud and explained in detail its function; how she liked it teased, but always saved for last and measured by his read of her body. Chris finally placed his tongue on her nub and Sue knew she was going to explode into her second orgasm of the day. Her hips bucked upwards, over and over against his tongue, her hands still in place. As she came, she slowed her pussy”s gyrations; shuddering continually as her climax subsided.
Sue was training Chris to be a virtuoso and he was learning to play her like a fine instrument. She knew it would take many more lessons, and she was willing to give him those lessons, but the foundation had been laid. Now, she needed her fucking. She had been patient, but her body craved his cock. At this point, she had very little control over her actions. If they continued, it would be to fuck. A wicked portion of her mind reminded her she had earned his virginity and she would have it. She still took time to inquire about his fantasies, to ask how he liked to make love to a woman. He replied describing the missionary position. As he grew older, she knew he would change his mind; perhaps preferring to lay back and watch a woman”s breasts bounce, her hips sending his cock deep into her cunt.
I actually wanted to be pregnant. This was nuts. Wasn’t there something you could take for that? Immediately my mind told me, yes, you could take several million sperm cells as intimately as they can go. You could find someone eager to pump those sperm cells into you…
Well that would be easy enough, the mind said. I didn’t understand just why, but I knew that’s what Jake wanted more than anything else.
I didn’t quite understand why it was, but it seemed to be so. It wasn’t that he lacked sexual partners. It had to be because his other partners lacked that one extra need to become one with him…to allow themselves to become one with each other. God help me! That might be within my grasp–my comprehension–the core of my being. Like Bradbury said who else but a woman could lay down by herself one evening and awaken fuller and more in tune with nature and the universe–she could awaken carrying something more than just her own interests at heart.
Lord, I’m sleepy. I’d best get back to bed. Reaching out to take an extended hand, and spreading my thighs in order to take an erected cock.
A sweet kiss goodnight, again,
Cricket
I woke up late and had to rush off to the office. By the time I got my computer up at the office, I had a new message from Jake Hancock.
Dear Cricket,
It’s not that impregnating a woman is the number one priority in my life. However, the fact that as a man I have the ability to give life in some sense, and as a woman you have the ability to carry the baby to term, bring life into the world, our unique features seem terribly wasted if we don’t use them. What I’ve always wanted is to be with the woman that wants it to happen, likes the thought of creating life as much as myself. If it didn’t happen, then it’s not meant to be.
It seems to me that you actually share many of the same thoughts on the subject though. I do very much like the thought of you walking around the house barefoot with a bulging abdomen, the sign of our baby growing inside of you. I feel that in general, in the house and making babies is the natural place for a woman, where she feels most comfortable. What do you feel? Does this offend you?
Be mine, my love,
Jake Hancock
I went to C.J.’s place after work that night and she agreed to scan some recent snapshots I’d found. Then she took her digital camera and shot a few more portraits of me.
Dear Jake,
I got some photo scans and .jpeg shots done by a good friend of mine. Does reality intrude upon your fantasy? Is this a woman you’d enjoy impregnating? Please let me know.
Yours,
Cricket
“(attachment enclosed)”
His response was almost immediate. I had an email back within ten minutes.
Dear Cricket,
Yes! Most definitely!
Now more than ever, I want to see your body spread out on the bed, in front of me, ready to do what is natural and right, ready to offer up your womb to give us a baby. Would you like to try and make this happen, Cricket? Do your loins ache to be filled with my seed, your womb ache to be fertilized with our baby? ?
I loved your pictures!
Big deep kiss,
Jake Hancock
Dear Jake,
My goodness you certainly come on blunt and direct. Of course, blunt and direct is actually a positive thing when it comes time to line up a man’s body with a woman’s.
I have to admit I’m very surprised that you seem to have had such a positive response to my current pictures. I guess I expected the worst. Now, it’s your turn, Jake. You can keep yourself secretive or you can expose yourself in a photograph for my benefit.
I really don’t mind if you want to delay and “feel me out” psychologically for a while, but I will delay gratification as well. A gal’s prerogative as they say.
Thanks for making me feel good about my pictures. I guess I needed the emotional reinforcement you sent today.
A warm kiss hello,
Cricket
I followed that letter up with another email that same evening.
Dear Jake,
This is where I try to get to know the prospective father of my child.
How tall are you? I’m about 5′4 and weigh 130 plus lbs.
What do you do for a living in general, hon? You don’t have to be specific as yet, if you’re not comfortable about it. Just give me some general idea. As I told you before I work in an office writing reports that nobody ever reads.
To be honest, if everything goes well, once the baby is born, I suppose I would prefer to stay at home nursing him/her. Of course, that may put undue financial strain on her father to support us all in these crazy financial times. I will continue writing, but I’m afraid my writing won’t be able to make a dent in our finances until I reach more than ten books published. Sorry. Facts of an erotic romance writer’s life.
Do you want a son or daughter–or doesn’t it really matter to you?
Do you drink or smoke?
I’m going to advise you to stop as both of them interfere with sperm production. The best thing to promote semen production and make for a great sexual experience is water! It makes a woman very moist down in the vaginal area and she thinks you’re being the most incredible gentlemen because you’re not trying to get her drunk–which is really stupid for a man to try to get a woman as it dries her up and makes sex harsh. That’s just good information to know anyway.
Do you have your own place or will we have to find a place of our own?
Curious George,
Cricket
Dear Cricket,
Ok here goes… First of all, no I do not drink or smoke. I’m 6′1, 205 lbs. and I work as a Service Dept Manager for a car dealership. I do own my own house. I would prefer you stay home with our baby. A son would be nice, but I’ll certainly settle for a girl. I’ve attached a couple of pics for you to see. Let me know what you think.
Yours always,
Jake Hancock
“(attachment included)”
That night when I opened the attachments, I got the surprise of my life. I really thought Jake would be some gawky, young post-adolescent. One of those nerdy guys that always comes off as a joke on TV. I had no idea how wrong I was.
One of the shots showed an amateur portrait of a hauntingly beautiful young (and I do mean young) man. The other looked like it had been taken at a concert. Jake Hancock was his band’s lead singer!
Dearest Jake,
I just got back from a visit with some friends when I found your email and your attached pictures.
Jake Hancock, I am stunned! Is this really you? Wow! You are a handsome–no make that gorgeous young man and potentially a wonderful catch for any woman. You are so good looking that it’s almost too much for me to take.
I am beyond flattered, honey. I am shocked!
Whatever could a hunk like you see in an old used up fossil like me? Take you to bed? Absolutely. Have your baby? Of course, I would! But what about a year or two down the road when you’ve decided that this was all a mistake and you need to move on? Would you grab up our son or daughter for yourself, while kicking me out on the street?
Any right thinking woman would jump at the chance for your offer to make babies with her.
However, I’m sorry, but I really need time to think. I originally thought you might have been some ordinary guy who had a little bit of difficulty picking up women–not the sexy romance novel cover model you really are! Jake, I can see women fighting over you all the time. Your good looks frighten me. I never thought I’d say this, but if we had a child, all his or her good looks would come from his or her father!
Forgive me for being taken aback. To put it bluntly, since you could fuck any girl you wanted, why me? Is it strictly the pregnancy angle? What was there about my letter or post which made you realize that I was the woman you wanted to knock up?
Jake, you are a prize catch so you’ll pardon me if I don’t understand. I’m totally flabbergasted. Right now I’m really torn…as a musician you probably know the song: “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life/Never make a pretty…” And pretty doesn’t begin to describe you, babe. You are a hunk, Jake. More than I ever expected–much, much more.
BTW, what kind of music does your band play? Are you the lead singer, too? God, the wet dreams I’m gonna have. But Jake, I don’t get it. What did you see in me?
Please get back to me.
Totally awed and confused,
Cricket
Dear Cricket,
Well thank you many times for your compliments. I don’t know what to say, other than, don’t keep from letting things happen together because you think I’m attractive. That wouldn’t make much sense. I would never dream of taking our baby, and somehow “kicking you to out onto the street.”
So do you feel like you want to get pregnant with my baby?
Anticipating your answer,
Jake Hancock
Dear Jake,
Honey, you had me before when you wrote: ” 
Yes most definitely. I want to see you spread out on the bed, in front of me, ready to do what is natural and right…”
There is really no question that when we move into that joyful moment when you push your dick all the way up into the confines of my pussy and loose your sperm directly into my reproductive system that we will be totally committed to conceiving an embryo from that moment onward.
However, I have to tell you I’m still worried about the rest of the world even more. What will your band mates or your co-workers think? Will they wonder if you were forced to be a gentleman and marry some old bitch because you knocked her up? (Are we going to get married?)
No, there’s a lot to think about, still. But the more I think about your offer, the more I literally ache for reassurance, the more I want you to tell me it’s all gonna be okay…Jake, I know West Michigan well enough to worry that you’ll be put in a situation where you’ll be told: “What do mean you’re gonna marry some middle-aged white whore, boy? What’s the matter with your head?”
I suppose I won’t trap you into marriage until we’re sure I’ve gotten pregnant, but even that won’t sit right with an awful lot of people. I guess you shouldn’t worry, though. I seem to be doing enough worrying for both of us.
However, I have to admit, I’ve done everything but say yes!
Cricket
*
“[Naturally there is much more to this relationship than I've written here. More emails, face to face meetings and the inevitable sensual and carnal enjoyments of each others bodies. I'll be back with much more in the future--Cricket!]”