Pearlie sat down on the arm of the chair I was sitting in, and slowly eased down into my lap. She put her arms around me and kissed me, then asked me:
“Fred, have you ever fucked the girl you love?”
I didn’t answer her because I didn’t understand why she asked me that. Actually, I hadn’t fucked anybody yet, and I was too embarrassed to reveal that fact. She leaned back and asked me another question that really shook me.
“Are you a virgin, Fred?” she asked with a little smile on her lips.
“Now, why did you ask me that?” I responded, avoiding her eyes.
“You’re a virgin. I can tell.” She said this with a broader smile. “My goodness, I have a virgin on my hands.”
After saying that, she hugged my embarrassed ass tighter and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, baby…relax. Pearlie going to teach you good tonight.”
Then she kissed me again.
Sliding off my lap, she walked over to her icebox, opened it, and took out a half-pint bottle. Getting two glasses off a shelf, she walked back over to me again and sat on my lap, this time straddling me, crushing her warm mound against me. Damn! The heat from her crotch brought my dick to attention.
“Have you ever drank any White Lightning?” she asked as she poured half the bottle in each glass.
“No, I never have,” I responded nervously, trying to maintain my cool.
She slowly started moving her hips, grinding down on me, and purred in her soft southern drawl, “Sugar, you’re my baby tonight. I’m taking good care of you.”
Pearlie took my hand with the glass in it and brought it up to my lips. If a person ever drank White Lightning, they would never forget it. It looked like water, but believe me it didn’t taste like water. After a short while my head was spinning. I was feeling good! My crotch was wet with pre-cum. Believe me, I was more then ready to be taught.
Pearlie backed off me, unfastened her tight-fitting skirt, and stepped out of it. God, she had a body on her. I began having doubts whether I would survive this night. She then unbuttoned her blouse and took off her bra, letting them both fall into my lap, baring her full, well-shaped breasts. Pearlie watched my eyes as she took my hands and pulled me to my feet. She unbuckled my belt, then unzipped my pants and let them drop to the floor. I stepped out of them and took off my shirt. She then pulled down my shorts…and jerked her head back a little.
“My goodness! Freddie has a nice one, doesn’t he?”
Pearlie sank down to her knees and slowly brought her full lips to the head of my dick and kissed it. I never had anyone do that to me before.
She looked up at me and whispered, “And this is just the beginning.”
Pearlie stood up and took my hand again and led me over to the bed. She pushed me back on the bed and then peeled her panties down and stepped out of them, leaving her stockings on. Climbing up on the bed, she straddled my chest and leaned over and stretched my arms out to the side.
Pearlie looked me in the eyes and softly said, “I want you to taste my forbidden fruit tonight.”
There was no question in my mind of what she meant. I could smell the scent of her sex and it deeply aroused me. I had never been this close to any pussy before.
“Freddie, do you want to taste me? Do you want to know what I taste like?” she said as she scooted up closer to my face.
Her crotch was nestled softly against my chin, and I could feel the wetness of her love juices as she moved her hips, spreading the moisture over my chin and lips. I thought I was going to faint.
“Lick me, Fred, let me feel your tongue. I want you to like it.”
Lifting up and lowering herself slowly over my searching tongue, she started oscillating, barely letting her love nest touch my mouth. I was overwhelmed by the fragrance of her sex. At first, I was a little hesitant, but then I said to myself, it wasn’t anything that soap and water couldn’t clean up.
Pearlie released my hands and placed her hands down to her damp mound and spread herself wide.
“See my rosebud…touch it lightly with your tongue,” she said as she looked down at me. “You’re making me feel good, Freddie.”
Without thinking, I cupped both of her full breasts, feeling their softness, soft as cotton. She started moving her hips, sliding her love nest across my face, as I flicked my tongue across her rosebud. I listened to her moan and groan and whimper as an uncontrollable lust built up in her. I couldn’t believe that this was me, making love to a woman in this way…and liking it.
“Baby, hold up for a second, let me turn around,” she said.
She turned her voluptuous body so that her sensual ass was over my face, and placed her mouth in a position directly over my hardness.
“Just relax, baby, and let Pearlie make you feel good.”
Believe me, I was in a strange new world, and I was liking it more and more.
I felt her hot breath on my swollen dick, then felt her warm tongue licking it up and down. Her fingernails lightly stroked the bottom of my balls, sending a delightful sensation throughout my trembling body. Wrapping my arms around her ample ass and pulling her wet, hairy love mound down to my seeking mouth, I slid my tongue into her warm tunnel. I was tasting the pussy of a woman for the first time…a woman I never knew before tonight. Then it happened. I felt my hardened dick sinking into her warm wet mouth. My whole body shook and trembled as she slowly sucked me in. I felt the rippling of her tongue as she took my whole shaft, nursing it, milking it. My nose was inhaling the scent of her hot pussy as my tongue thrust deeper into her tunnel. I could feel the walls of her pussy snatching at and clinching my probing tongue. This exchange of love lasted for a long while. We were both in our own world…nothing else existed. Pearlie released me just when I thought I was going to explode.
“Fred, I want you to fuck me…now…please,” she said as she rolled off me and lay on her back, spreading her full thighs. “Come on, baby, take me,” she hissed.
She pulled me on top of her hot moist body, settling me in her waiting nest. With no assistance, my love pole found her and sank deep into her quivering pussy. She hugged me hard as I pressed deeper into her. Burying our heads between the huge pillows, we kissed hungrily, growling and grunting. I felt her gripping my shaft hard with the trembling muscles of her tunnel.
I often fantasized, but never came close to thinking that fucking was like this…never dreamed it would suck at your soul. Oh, how I wanted this to last, never wanting it to end. I stroked and gave, she received and nursed. We merged into one, exchanging our energies, our hungers.
“Come, baby, give it up for Pearlie…give it up, sugar.”
Then I could feel it happening and she knew it, too. She locked her legs around mine as we pressed our bodies hard into each other. Thrusting my swollen dick deep into her, dead-poling…mixing our love juices…straining and pressing. Then she clamped down on my dick with her quivering pussy, and held me…and milked me till there was nothing left to milk…then she just nursed me gently…ever so gently. We both fell asleep…spent…satisfied.
Yes, I gave up my virginity and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m thankful it happened the way it did, and grateful for Pearlie, the woman who took it.
The Party
Robert Scott Adams
The Further Adventures of Carlotta and Miguel
Southern California, there’s nothing like it. More than anything else, the weather combined with the almost limitless scenic variety makes it understandable why thousands of people relocate there every year, and lifelong inhabitants steadfastly commit to spending their lives there even though the area may one day end up as an island.
That’s why, when the opportunity arose for Miguel and Carlotta to meet on the coast, specifically Los Angeles, Miguel jumped at the chance.
This trip would require that Miguel interview a trio of mixed-media artists from South America, Brazil, who were about to become the next big thing on the American scene. The trio of two men and one woman were alr
eady celebrated in all the major artistic centers in Europe, Canada, and most of South America. And they were recently featured in New York, Washington, D.C., and Chicago. But for all their triumphs they felt the west coast offered what they wanted: access to everything including movies and television. Their mixed-media collection ranged from architecture and paintings, to sculpture and design.
So as a result they planted the seeds of success all the way across America, planning to end in Los Angeles. In fact, they planned a huge reception in a renovated barn on Highway 101 somewhere between L.A. and San Francisco. This reception would feature paintings, furniture, and other examples of their talents. In fact, Angelo, one of the artists in the group, had redone the barn. This reception would give those in both the entertainment and artistic communities the opportunity to experience this unique trio.
So Miguel was to be one of the interviewers tasked with attending the reception and capturing the essence of this group on paper.
But at this moment Miguel was capturing a different type of essence. He and Carlotta were speeding up the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible Porsche. The warm ocean breeze circled throughout the open vehicle as it sped up the highway. The ocean crashed against the rocks below as the road narrowed on the way out of Malibu toward the north. The sun was about forty-five minutes from setting so it was still warm and visibility was good, good enough for Miguel to be able to see the road ahead and also see Carlotta’s head in his lap as she gave him one of the best blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.
This was one of Miguel’s most endearing fantasies, and Carlotta was making it a reality as she sucked loudly and fiercely as they neared their destination.
“Oh shit, baby, damn that’s great.” Even though he’d gotten blowjobs while driving before, it was never in a Porsche, going over seventy miles an hour.
They’d met in Los Angeles earlier that day. When Miguel came out of the baggage claim area at LAX, there she was in a champagne Porsche convertible. She was dressed in a beautiful black chiffon dress that showed off her beautiful semi-sweet-chocolate-looking skin. She was smiling broadly behind sunglasses. As he approached, she climbed out of the car. The dress was short and showed off her amazing legs. And she was wearing the Charles David shoes, the ones that had the wide strap around the ankle. The ones that made her look like a really expensive L.A. call girl. He was dressed in a black raw silk and linen suit. The sun reflected off his bald head as he slowly walked toward her. He threw his bag in the back and before he could get around to the driver’s side to her, she had already come up to him. As she thrust the keys into his hand, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips against his as she thrust her tongue deep into his mouth. Their bodies crushed together as always, making her wet and him hard. It was a patented response that occurred every time they got together; whether they touched or not.
“Welcome to sunny California. Now I got you on my side of the world.” She pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. “Damn, not only do you look good you smell good, too. You’re in big trouble now. Get in.”
“You look great,” he said, glancing over at her. As they headed out the Pacific Coast Highway, the smell of the ocean combined with the breeze created the perfect backdrop for the drive. He noticed how her dress had wandered up her thighs, which were encased in black sheer thigh-highs. To accommodate his view, she spread her thighs apart ever so slightly and the dress did its best to provide him with the view she knew he wanted. It was at that point that Carlotta began to play with him. As the car sped up the coast, she leaned over and planted small, yet sensual kisses on his neck, cheek, and lips. If he turned to get a better angle to kiss her, she would playfully slap him.
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
So he had to rely on his peripheral vision to see how she was preparing to challenge his driving ability. He didn’t have to wonder for long, as he felt her hands unzipping his pants. The zipper easily disengaged and out popped his already rock-hard dick. He had an erection like a church steeple. She looked at it and thought it as sensual as a ripe, thick-veined, dark fruit.
Sex to them was a dance, a romantic, aural, and visual interplay. It combined both love and lust. It came easy, without any active or aggressive prodding or solicitation. It was like when a strong wind approached, and to feel it you only had to turn your face. Yes, they lusted after each other. Their needs stuck out, like a porcupine’s needles. At times, his desire for her was almost crippling, as if he’d been solidly smacked in the back of his knees by a baseball bat. When he reached for her she responded with her own level of desire. In describing it to a friend she once said her passion and desire for Miguel “makes me so wild, it’s like all I am is liquid, like mercury.”
After months of going without each other they would finally meet, and both were as ravenous as sea gulls over a fishing boat.
The last time they met it was in the spring in D.C. Carlotta was there attending a conference. Miguel lived in Philadelphia, so it was easy to get to her. But really, what difference did distance make anyway? This relationship had been going on for as long as Carlotta was married. Yes, she was married. Yet they maintained this long-distance love affair for the past decade. But neither the years nor distance could erode the intense passion they shared. This shared passion escaped in a love battle. It was as if they fought each other to see who would provide the other one with the most immediate amount of pleasure.
This time Carlotta would win, as she lowered her face into Miguel’s lap and began to ravage his rigid member. At first she lightly swirled her tongue around the dark swollen head. To Carlotta, it was as tasty as the summer’s first fruit, almost like strawberries that were so sweet they didn’t need additional sugar. It didn’t take long for the intensity of her passion to increase as she began to salivate all over him. At the same time, Miguel was struggling to concentrate on the single-lane road that provided him very little opportunity to lose himself in the pleasure Carlotta was giving him. Yet it was still a thrill.
If he couldn’t spend all his time staring at her gorgeous mouth as it engulfed him, he could enjoy the sounds she made as she nearly swallowed him. She gurgled like a content baby who had locked in on its mother’s breast. She even made little sounds that demonstrated how enjoyable the entire procedure was.
The sun had nearly set, triggering the onset of the cool California night. Invariably, Miguel’s once-sturdy erection began to shrink when the convertible became surrounded by the sudden gusts of ocean-affected air; for some reason water and cool air had that effect on him.
Undaunted, Carlotta increased her sucking as she was determined to bring Miguel to orgasm and fill her mouth with as much cum as she could swallow. So as she increased her attack on him, he began to pump vigorously. His hips strained like a dangerously stretched rubber band as his back became rigid, his stomach knotted up, and he could feel an abrupt rush of semen seeping out, quivering on the head of his cock like a drop of hot wax.
“Umph!” was Carlotta’s response. She knew that within seconds she was going to get what she wanted and that made her even greedier.
But the ride from L.A. to the party wasn’t as far as it took for Miguel to come, and as he saw the silhouette of the barn coming up quickly on his left he had to take a sharp turn off the highway into the parking lot, which made Carlotta jerk up from his lap to see what had happened.
“Damnit!” she cursed, anger spreading up through her like a fever, her mouth still glistening from the lather she’d worked up on Miguel’s dick. “We almost did it! Damn, I hate that! Why did you have to turn so fast?”
Even with darkness setting in, he could see the rage in her eyes. He slowly navigated the sports car to an open space. “Baby, I didn’t mean to. But we were…everything happened so fast, and there was this car on my ass. If I’d kept going, we’d have missed the turn, and—”
“If you’d kept going, you would’ve come. You always could’ve turned around and circled back…shit!”
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She was pissed. He parked the car and began to zip his pants.
“What the hell are you doing? You still owe me and I’m not letting you out of this car until you give it to me.”
“Darling, I’ve got a job to do and it would take as long for me to come as it took us to get here. We can do this later.”
“Fuck that! I hate that. I haven’t seen you for two months. You get me all worked up, thinking I was gonna get some come, and then you pull out on me? It’s your fault, now give it here.”
She lunged at his zipper. When she felt how wet his pants were, she immediately stopped. A sheepish look came over her face.
“I guess we gotta get you cleaned up, huh? It’s a good thing these pants are dark.” She had conceded. Miguel pulled his handkerchief from inside his black suit jacket and handed it to Carlotta. As she attempted to make his pants somewhat presentable, Miguel started the car, closed the top, and ran the heater. It was obvious from the way Carlotta cleaned away at his crotch that she was a little embarrassed.
In the middle of her efforts, Miguel stopped her, took her head in his hands, and brought her face close to his. Her lips were red and slightly swollen, perfect for the kiss Miguel planted on her. It was wet and soft, like velvet. The kiss always elicited a rush of emotion between them and in this instance, made Carlotta relax again.
“Don’t worry about the pants. That’s why they have dry cleaners. You felt great, okay? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I owe you, okay? As soon as we get out of here, we’re going to that hotel up the coast and we can resume this. I apologize, okay?”
This relationship was dependent upon open communication and negotiation. Miguel had just used both of those attributes to diffuse what could’ve been a contentious situation. That’s why she loved him. Even in the heat of passion, he took the time to talk with her and assure her that everything was all right.