Billy, Celeste and Sex

For the second day running the bright yellow pickup caught Billy McNabb's eye – the vehicle was clean, meaning no dirt, no marks. Owned by a perfectionist, he deduced.

He imagined the guy – late forties, divorced and no-one to play with so devoted his after-work time to watching sport on TV and drinking beer while eating steaks at hash-houses, keeping an eye on his prized possession parked across the street. He'd give that vehicle more attention than he'd give any woman.

Lucky bastard.

Billy lived with his mom and she worried if he were late home, didn't eat at home, insisted he owned a vehicle she was comfortable riding in and didn't like him drinking alcohol – but, thank god, she thought martini aftermath on his breath was the smell of peppermints.

A day later Billy was late leaving work and saw a long-legged woman enter the parking lot and wondered if she went with the yellow pickup.

Wow.

She was in her late twenties, really great legs, neatly dressed, black hair, big hoops for earrings and – oh yeah: nice ass.

Driving home in his black, comfortable and under-powered sedan with sheep-skin covered seats because his mom liked to be seated comfortably, Billy nursed a boner, thinking of those legs of that woman. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman who takes care of boners, so his focus was totally on this new woman in his life. This married woman. Oh crap, he fumed, why did you have to bring that up? Hey – but wait: some married women snatch a bit on the side.

"You looked flushed – coming down with a cold?" his mom asked. He rejected that possibility, asked what was for dinner but didn't listen to the answer, which was usual. Instead he wondered if his mom would serve his new girl-friend a meal if she knew this woman was having an adulterous fling with her son to relieve him of his boner problem. Probably not and he'd get a kick in the boner from his mom to put him right. Damn.

The 32-year-old fingered his luxurious thatch of auburn hair and sighed. Mrs Yellow Pickup would slip through his fingers because he wouldn't commit to attempt to date her. Most of his women came into his arms because he offered sympathy when they were distressed or so randy they'd take anything on two legs.

Twice during the night he awoke to find he had a raging erection. Hell, what was this - he hadn't been watching Big Tits DVD's. Then into his mind came the image of Mrs Yellow Pickup – he grabbed his box of tissues and stroked away, pretending the hand around his dick was hers.

Afterwards he cleaned up; it took almost two minutes to flush away the tissues – a whole box of them – a new record for him. He fell sleep resolving to make a positive move on Mrs Yellow Pickup later that day...

_ _ _

After settling in at work next day Billy called the janitor.

"Hi Charlie – Billy McNabb, internal audits manager, 11th floor.

"Is that so?"

"You disappoint me Charlie; I thought you would remember me. I'm the guy who helped you polish off all those half empty bottles of beer after last year's Christmas party and you kept a look-out while I polished off those two tarts from our word processing unit."

"Oh yeah, 'Big dick Billy' one of them called you. She could hardly walk."

"I think she'd had two many gins, Charlie."

"Whatever. What do you want?"

"Details of the driver of that yellow pickup who parks in Space 27."

"That's easy – it's the owner/operator of Heavenly Fashions – can't remember her name. Want me to look it up?"

"Not if you can tell me what time she regularly leaves the parking lot."

"Six fifteen, on the dot."

"Thanks Charlie – tell you what; I'll assist you prepare your next tax returns if you want."

"Thanks, Billy. I'll think about that. I really need someone I trust. Both of those women you shafted after the Christmas party were married, you know."

"Married – I didn't know that," Billy lied.

"Oh, sorry, I misjudged you. Perhaps I can trust you."

Right on 6:15 Mrs Yellow Pickup arrived at her vehicle.

Billy climbed out of his vehicle and spoke to her over the roof of his sedan – he figured she'd feel safer with him being that far away.

"Hi, been wanted to tell you how much I admire that condition of your pick-up."

"Is this a pick-up?"

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, take no notice. My humor runs away on me at times. What do you want?"

"Truly?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"An invitation is sit behind the wheel of your pickup. To me it looks better than new and besides won't have the ghastly new vehicle smell."

"Okay – look, take it for a drive and we'll stop off somewhere for a drink. That is, unless you think your wife may object."

"What wife?"

"Oh, sorry, was it messy?"

Billy was beginning to wonder what drug this woman was on. She wasn't exhibiting any shyness, claimed to have a humor, an unsual claim for a woman to make and here she was lining him up to pay for her drinks. "What was messy?"

"Your divorce."

"But I've never been married."

"Oh, sorry. I never thought a manly looking guy like you would be in a gay relationship. You can still have a test drive but we'll skip socializing if that's okay."

"It's not fucking okay. If you were a guy I'd bust your ribs for calling me gay."

She looked mortified, and threw her hands up helplessly.

"I live with my mom but if you dare call me a mummy's boy I really will get mad with you."

The woman cried "Oh Oh" and came running around the car and fixing her big hazel eyes on Billy's green ones, placed her hand on his arm and said, "Oh, I am so terrible sorry. I've landed myself in a fuck-up, haven't I? My mouth habitually runs away on me."

Billy looked at her hand until she removed it hastily. "Look, let's forget about the test drive," he said. "We'll leave the vehicles here and walk across the road to Cliff's Bar and you can apologize, buy our drinks and talk nicely to me."

"Oh yes, what a wonderful idea. I'm Celeste Roper."

"What, the Olympic gymnast?"

"Oh that? That was years ago."

"Well, I remember – you were sixteen and a half. Absolute grace in motion. Oh, I'm Billy McNabb from the 11th floor."

"Hi Billy, can we kiss hello rather than shake hands?"

"I guess do. Please go easy with me," but catching her hesitation he said, "That just my weird humor. You don't get the expected with me."

"Oh."

She kissed him; ignoring his offered cheek Celeste turned his face back slightly and kissed him on the mouth – rather sweetly. Billy inhaled her perfume and sighed.

"What?"

"You perfume."

"Sorry for the offence – I do bath every morning."

"No, god no – I meant the French..." He caught the mischievous smile and grinned back at her.

"You're not married either, are you?"

"That's clever of you – did you check for rings or are you smarter than that?"

"You are too relaxed, too spontaneous to be a married woman with a strange man – I mean a married woman who is not a slut."

"Oh dear, we women are all sluts now, are we?"

"No, oh god no. I..."

The mischievous smile was back. He stopped what he was saying and grinned. "You are your own woman."

She seemed to understand what he was attempting to say. "I have been married, but he killed himself on his damn motor cycle almost four years ago.

"I'm sorry, but that can't bring him back."

"Exactly. You know how to talk to a woman, don't you?"

"I do live with my mother."

"Ah, of course; housework done for you, fabulous meals but you are not welcome to bring babes home to screw."

"Er, right on the button," Billy said, coloring. He decided to take the plunge and be upfront, asking how did she get sex when she wanted it, thinking she'd say I do have a couple of regular male 'friends'.

"I grab it when it's on offer, usually. There is a prejudice against widows."

"As young and as beautiful as you."

"Oh god, shut up. You'll make my panties wet."

Billy didn't know where to look but she said look at her. "Take me to bed tonight if you'd like that Billy; I have decided I like you enough to offer that. There are only two requirements – you wear a condom and treat me respectfully."

"No problem," chocked Billy, fighting unsuccessfully to keep his boner in check. For the first time in his adult life he was finally with a woman he'd always wanted to meet – a thoroughly modern woman. Celeste's style of clothes, manner and attitudes indicated she was such a woman.

Something of Celeste's uncompromising manner seemed to rub off on him. At the bar after a sip of white wine – not a martini – he went to the men's room where he called his mother.

"Sorry mom, I'm eating out tonight."

"Billy McNabb. You be sitting at my table on the dot of 7:00 or I shall become very cross."

"The only chance of that happening is you agree to me bringing home a lady friend and serving dinner, knowing that I will probably take her to bed afterwards."

"Billy McNabb this is preposterous."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, mom."

"No wait, let me think or rather let me get use to the idea. What if I hear—-you know."

"Go to sleep with your bedroom TV still turned on. Or take my stereo earphones to be with you."

"Those are actually very practical suggestions."

"Mom, this is an opportunity I cannot miss; this lady is a very modern woman."

"She's no lady and must be very modern going to bed with you on your first date. All right, bring her home and if she's a screamer put a pillow over her mouth."

"Screamer – what do you know about that sort of woman, mom?"

Billy looked at his phone in horror when his mother disconnected the call after saying, "It takes one to recognize one, son." He wasn't sure but he had a pretty good idea he'd caught the drift.

Two suited men were at the table talking to Celeste – obviously trying to pick her up. Billy flexed his shoulders and gripped and released his clenched firsts. Anything could be on here. As he neared the table Celeste said coldly, "Here's my man. I won't tell you a third time, piss off you guys."

They turned, saw the size of Billy and slunk off.

"God you look powerful with your shoulders pumped up like that," Celeste said to Billy. "You've made my panties wet."

Celeste disclosed she didn't own a vehicle. The pickup was her widowed father's. He also had a sedan and a 4WD truck. He kept the three vehicles, himself and the house immaculate.

"Are you allowed to bring men home?"

"No, are you - er, women I mean?"

Billy said it was discouraged but he'd called his mother and made a breakthrough. Celeste was invited to dinner and was welcome to stay the night. Billy told her about his mother's screamer comment; Celeste laughed, holding her sides. She then called her father. Billy heard only one side of the conversation.

"Dad, sorry about the short notice but I'm not coming home tonight – met this great guy. Just write out a label and pop my meal into the freezer – don't forget to date it. Oh, in his very early thirties I should think, I'd guess middle management. No he's not married and had oodles of charm and makes me laugh. Thanks dad – oh, is it okay if he comes to dinner tomorrow and stays over? That's only if tonight works out okay. Thanks dad and I love you too."

Billy grinned and said Celeste was presumptuous. He might have arranged to play bridge or go bowling with the guys tomorrow night. But Celeste said he'd not be doing that if he wanted to fuck her. Billy pretended to look serious and said he'd probably have to think about that.

Celeste yelled 'probably?' She came around the table, sat on his knee and began kissing him like a lover. She coped with the reactivated boner by flattening it with her hand.

"You must think I'm a slut?"

"No – a bit over-powering but not unduly so. I'm comfortable with it."

"I really like to fuck, Billy. Two nights of me and you'll probably admit yourself to a detox camp to hide and recover."

"Bring it on," Billy chortled.

The two women found they knew each other – Billy's mom Sandra brought her wraps and accessories from Celeste's store. She too, told Celeste she remembered her when she peaked as a gymnast ten years ago and then broke her hip.

"My hip came okay but I didn't get my confidence and flexibility back completely so I retired."

Sandra remembered why Celeste was in her home. "Why on earth are you fraternizing with my son – you could have your pick of men?"

"Oh, he knows how to talk to women, is a tease with a wicked touch of humor and with all that hair looks like a Teddy Bear worth taking to bed."

"Oh my, Sandra said, looking quite impressed. "I was warned you are a modern woman. Please take my advice, if he doesn't measure up throw his back."

"What is your measurement Billy?" Celeste asked. Billy slunk from the room saying he'd wash up for dinner.

Billy and Celeste cleaned up after dinner, Sandra wandering off to find a Soap on TV. Billy backed Celeste into a corner, enjoying watching her eyes widen. Although the top of her head only came level with his shoulders she showed no fear.

"Grab my tits, Billy and tell me what you think."

The challenge was almost too much for him: Tell her what he thought about her tits when he wasn't warmed up and panting? How the hell could a guy do that?

As he hesitated she undid three buttons and pulled her pink lacy bra up over her rack. Billy's eyes bulged.

"I go fuck a duck."

Celeste taken aback for a second managed, "Well, that's certainly saying what you think."

"They're beautiful."

She cried "Oh Billy," and leapt at him.

Somehow they finished the dishes. At one stage Billy dropped his mother's highly prized china gravy boat – an engagement gift from her bridesmaid – when Celeste had felt what he had through his trousers and giggled, "That certainly measures up."

In a flash she lunged to her right and thrust her palm under the jug just inches from the floor to catch it safely.

"Thank god for that. You're brilliant," he said, looking at the closed door leading to the living room where his mother was watching TV. "She'd rather find us fucking on the floor than finding her gravy boat in pieces."

Celeste began giggling uncontrollably so Billy had to seal his mouth with his until she finally broke away for air and instructed him hoarsely, "Bite my nipple, Billy, I'm ready to orgasm."

Her face was red and her shoulders heaving, so Billy did as instruction, knowing she wasn't teasing him.

When she regained her composure he asked, "How long is it since you've had sex with another person?"

"Almost two months."

"About the same for me," he said, without pride.

Celeste took him by the hand. "Comes we'll have a short chat to your mother and then be off to bed to exchange fluids."

"That's the best offer I've had all day, all year in fact," said Billy, now fully aware he was enjoying a sexual encounter one usually only can dream about.

Billy was almost out of his depth. This was the first time he'd gone to bed with anyone in his mother's house – although they were not quite there yet. He stood awkwardly just inside the bedroom.

"There's the bathroom," he said, pointing with the authority of an events organizer. She smiled sweetly and he cringed, thinking she could easily work that out for herself.

He caught himself. Christ, she is without toiletries. "Um, Celeste?"

She stopped, smiled, dug into her shoulder bag and tossed him a six-pack of condoms.

He flushed. "I was going to tell you where to find a new toothbrush."

"It's okay. I carry make-up, toothbrush and condoms and two spare panties wherever I go; I call it my Get Lucky Kit."

Billy scratched his head. Now what to do? He began to lose confidence. Perhaps he wouldn't match her expectations – she seemed so worldly, so well organized. He had the sinking feeling that his dick was slipping away to hide; what if he failed to get an erection.

She peeped out of the bathroom door at him. "Want to come and undress me – I've done my teeth?"

Billy froze for a second, feeling his dick jump back to life – at least it was interested. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, come here my darling; you're shy, aren't you?"

Billy nodded and a warmth began to flow through him; she understood and she cared. He moved forward; she held out her hand and he almost ran to her.

"Sex is great and it can be sensationally great, but I never fail to enjoy the opening moments of a new relationship," she said. "Even if it's just a clothes tearing lunge and grunt of his success in finding it when in the front seat of a car. Remember these moments of the next few minutes, Billy; one never knows when they're going to have their last fuck."

"It takes me all my time to remember when I last had one," Billy said. They laughed and he undid her fancy shirt. Her underwear was exquisite. She fingered the wet spot over her pussy and went, "Ooops, sorry about that the flood."

The legs were glorious – so slim yet shapely with enough meat on the upper thighs to make her look sexy in her thigh-highs.

"Do you like stockings, Billy?"

"Oh yes," and the passion in his voice seemed to excite her.

He worked to get her nude, licking the wet-spot on her panties as he carefully removed her stockings. When the panties came off he sniffed right into her pussie and that excited her.

"Right, let's see what you're got."

"Billy thought she meant his dick but no. She unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it back over his shoulders and sighed, "Ohmigod!" Billy went to the gym or ran or swam or did all three almost every day as there wasn't much else to do after work or at weekends and his mom preferred him to be out of the house except at mealtimes and after dark.

His body was very well developed. Celeste ran both hands over his chest and then laid her head against it. She sighed, feeling his arm muscles and then kissed between his nipples all the way down to his hard, muscular abdomen.

"Ohmigod," Celeste cried, breathing rapidly. She squeezed her nipple in one hand and stroking her belly with her other hand, groaned, threw back her head and Billy saw her eye lashes fluttering. She spread her legs wider and looked down. "Look what you made my do," she said accusingly, but the voice was soft.

Billy looked on to the black tiles and noticed four wet spots. He hoped she wouldn't get off that quickly when he was buried into his doing his best to bring her to a mighty ejaculation.

He cleaned his teeth, washed and dried his face. She lifted up her arms and was carried to bed like a trophy.

In time Billy found she wasn't a screamer but the bashing they were making to the bed was enough to wake the dead. They began with a gentle sixty-nine but before finishing she sat on him and rode him Cowboy style. Her tits were large enough to waggle around, which aroused him, and the enlarged long nipples gave him plenty to grip and tease. Finally she went red and grunted three or four times and panting said, "Right, let's get you away Billy"

Right at the last second he pulled out, ripped off the condom and fired three strings of cum over her belly and tits.

Instead of looking pleased she frowned, grabbed Billy's dick and began stroking it, saying. "You're a bad boy Billy. Look at all that milky filth you're squirted on to mummy. I must ask you to lick it off."

Wham! Billy's body jerked as she jacked two more streams on to her body, grinning fiendishly. Oh boy, was this the life!

_ _ _

Billy awoke next morning, stretched and yawned. He felt for Celeste but she was not beside him. He checked the bathroom – there was no sign of her. He checked the dresser for the five used condoms in the saucer; there was no saucer. Putting on his gown, feeling troubled, he made his mom's pot of tea and took it to her bedroom.

"Good morning Billy, thank you my love."

"Mom – I must be going out of my tree. Who did we have here for dinner last night?"