Counting Freckles

Mrs. Murray's eyes twinkled at that and she squeezed my shoulders tightly and sniffled a little.

"So sweet Adam," Mrs. Murray choked. "You've always been such a sweet boy."

"I'm not a boy anymore," I said with a false bravado. "I'm eighteen. I'm a man."

This "man" was on the verge of fainting, and my knees were knocking together so hard that I thought you could hear it as I stood in front of Mrs. Murray and leaned toward her. After all the years of looking up at Mrs. Murray I was now eye to eye with her, and those emerald green eyes never looked so wide as our faces drew close and I kissed her.

It was just a tiny peck on those luscious full lips of hers, but it meant all the world to me, and it meant a lot that she didn't slap me or throw me out either.

"Adam... we can't, I can't do this to you," Mrs. Murray said. "It just isn't right."

So I kissed her again. Her back was against the kitchen cabinets, and as I kissed her again, I felt my erection press against her. Mrs. Murray must have felt it too, because she looked startled after the slightly longer kiss ended.

"Please... Joyce," I addressed her for the first and only time of my life.

Mrs. Murray's hands came up to my face, caressing my cheeks and running those long fingers through my hair. She was ever-so-slightly shaking her head no, and was still doing so even as she drew my face up to hers. This time the kiss was mutual, and it was no peck.

My hands went up and down Joyce's back as we necked passionately. I ground my crotch into hers, and she responded by moving against me. After we broke our embrace, the next thing I remember was being in Joyce's bedroom, but I have no memory of how we got there.

6. Joyce's bedroom.

Joyce's bedroom was in much the same disarray as the rest of the house, but the bed was still there and still had bedding on it. Mrs. Murray and I stood face to face next to the bed, and she slowly began unbuttoning my shirt.

I had no idea what to do next because I would have to knock her arms away to get to her blouse buttons, so I undid my belt and let my jeans drop to the floor. My shirt opened up, and Joyce's hands ran across my chest as she pulled the garment off my shoulders.

I had worked my underwear over my gooey erection, and after Joyce got my shirt off of me, her hand traveled down my body and through the modest tuft of pubic hair above my dick. I shivered as her fingers slipped through the hair, and then I felt Joyce's hand grasp my cock.

"Omigod Adam!" Mrs. Murray said in shock as her hand slid up the length of my erection.

When I looked down at Mrs. Murray's long freckled fingers gripping my cock, the fantasy I had played out in my mind ever since I had figured out what sex was began playing out exactly as I had always dreamed. However, my ensuing reaction was something quite different from the scenario I had envisioned.

I came. Whether it was from Mrs. Murray's gentle stroking, or should I say 'stroke' of my member, or from the way she had seemed to approve of what she was holding, didn't much matter.

I bent over slightly when I realized what was about to happen, and as I let out a started squawk I watched helplessly as jets of cum spurted wildly out of my cock, spraying the floor and Mrs. Murray with the milky goo in spasms that didn't seem to stop for the longest time.

As for me, I wanted to die, or maybe just crawling away in shame as I watched this nightmare unfold around me, but I fought back the urge and just stood there in utter humiliation as Mrs. Murray held my dripping dick.

"I'm... sorry," I said as I tried to avert my eyes from Mrs. Murray's.

"It's alright Adam dear," Mrs. Murray said as she lifted my chin with her hand. "That's actually the nicest compliment you could pay an old lady like me, that I could excite you so much."

"Please! Please stop saying that you're old," I insisted.

"Okay Adam," Mrs. Murray said as she took my hands in hers. "Now where were we?"

Mrs. Murray brought my hands up to the top button of her blouse, and when I finally looked up at her she smiled and looked at me with eyes that told me once again everything was going to be fine.

My hands were trembling so badly that I was wrestling the buttons more than undoing them, but Mrs. Murray was patient and let me struggle through it. The freckles that I had long fantasized about were there in abundance, coating her shoulders and the upper part of her chest to where the bra blocked the view.

A bra. I had taken exactly two off in my life before this, and had experienced limited sucess at the effort. My hands reached up and grabbed the white quilted cups and I felt my first padded bra in the process. I reached around Mrs. Murray to do battle with the clips, but she leaned over and whispered in my ear, even though there was no one else to hear.

"Front hook Adam," Mrs. Murray whispered. "I'm afraid you're going to be very disappointed though."

As long as I was able to get Mrs. Murray's bra off without ripping it off, I was going to be happy. I didn't care about how big her breasts were anyway. I knew she was very slender, but had never given much thought to what her breasts looked like. Now, as my fingers found the tiny hook hidden behind a tiny blue flower, I was about to find out.

Miraculously I managed to unhook the bra like I had made a career out of doing it, and as I pulled the cups away I watched as Mrs. Murray's breasts came into view.

Oddly enough, the first thing I noticed was that the freckles pretty much ended where the bra had begun, and the skin below was a breathtakingly whiter shade of pale. The bra fell out of my hands as I stared at Mrs. Murray's chest.

Mrs. Murray was flat-chested. Her breasts were tiny buds that were barely perceptable. Her nipples were another thing altogether; puffy red cones the size of strawberries that jutted out pertly and begged to be touched.

My hands came up and cupped her tiny breasts, and I felt the rubbery aureola stiffen in my palms as I masssaged Mrs. Murray's chest. My eyes came up and met hers, and she looked at me in a vulnerable way, almost frightened that she had not met my expectations.

"They're so beautiful," I croaked as my mouth came down and enveloped the right bud, feeling the pebbly surface against my tongue as I swirled around it before going to the left one.

Mrs. Murray gasped as I went from breast to breast in an attempt to devour the little morsels. Never before and never since had I seen such an erotic sight as those magnificent buds, and my enthusiasm was welcomed by Mrs. Murray, who held my head tightly as I enjoyed them.

"Oooooh," Mrs. Murray said softly while I sucked on the rubbery tips, and as she put her hand on top of my head my attention was diverted. As Mrs. Murray's arm raised, I found myself staring at the thick tuft of hair that virtually exploded from the deep hollow of her armpit, and the gentle floral scent that I inhaled was equally pleasing.

My hands slid up from Mrs. Murray's rib cage and my fingers "accidently" strayed under her arm. The hair was so fine and soft that it was almost like touching a cloud, and while I wanted so badly to do much more than that, I decided that she might think I was even more weird than I already appeared to be.

Instead I continued kissing her chest while my hands came down to the button on her jeans. I surprised myself by not fumbling with the obstacle, and after it came undone I pulled them down her incredibly long legs. Mrs. Murray lifted each foot for me and I tugged the jeans off of her, and I found myself with my face right in Mrs. Murray's crotch.

Mrs. Murray was wearing rather fully cut white panties, but even the generous cut of the underwear could not contain the red hair that sprouted out from the insides of the leg holes. My hands came up to the elastic top of the panties which was just below the indentation of her pert navel.

As my trembling fingers eased the panties down, a thin strip of hair became visible just below her navel, a burnt orange in color. As the panties came down, the thin line of hair became thicker and darker, finally leading up to the immense triangle of thick hair that blanketed her womanhood.

I don't remember whether Mrs. Murray eased herself down on the bed or I helped, but there she was on her back as I found myself spreading her freckled thighs and lowering my head into the wild jungle of hair.

I had only done this to one other girl in my life, and this part of a woman's body was still pretty much a mystery to me. That girl's pussy bore no resemblance to Mrs. Murray's thickly furred grotto, and I initially feared that I wouldn't be able to find the opening, but my nose perked up at the scent of an apparently aroused woman.

I burrowed my tongue through the bush, which was wonderfully soft and sweet smelling, and found my target with no problem. I wiggled my tongue around, and worked it up until I encountered a little nub, and when my tongue scraped up against it I felt Mrs. Murray jump.

At that reaction, I started lapping wildly at that general area. How good it was, I don't know, but Mrs. Murray was running her hands through my hair and making little whimpering noises so I kept going. Her noises got a little louder, and the combination of those sounds, the sweet taste of Mrs. Murray's pussy, and the feel of me grinding into the mattress as I tongued away had brought my cock back to life.

Fearing that I would lose control and cum, I pulled my head out from between Mrs. Murray's legs. She seemed to try and keep my head down there as I rose, but I didn't dare take the chance and screw up again because I was getting really excited.

The next thing I remember was being between Mrs. Murray's legs with my erect and dripping cock springing around wildly in front of me. Mrs. Murray reached down and took my cock in her hand and drew me toward her.

"Please be gentle with me my baby," Mrs. Murray said huskily. "It's been a long time for me, and you're very... well endowed."

I didn't think I was all that big, but I loved being told that I was. What I loved even more was slowly pushing my cock between the lips of Mrs. Murray's pussy. She was so tight that I had to push a little bit, and when I felt the head of my cock pop in, I stopped for a second.

Mrs. Murray was squeezing my biceps in her hands with a strength that belied her appearance, and her head was straining off the bed. Every vein and muscle in her neck and shoulders was bulging as I slid myself into her, and I felt her pussy contracting and convulsing around my cock violently as I went deeper.

When my cock made it in to the hilt Mrs. Murray let out a scream that she seemed to try to supress but could not, and the sound brought a shiver throughout my entire body. I began pulling out of her, fearing that I had hurt her somehow. When she began thrashing around beneath me while I retracted myself, it suddenly occured to me that this was not pain. It was pleasure. Mrs. Murray was having an orgasm.

I began thrusting in and out of her as fast as I could, and Mrs. Murray was scratching and clawing at me like an animal. She calmed down for a few seconds but started bucking and screaming again as I kept humping.

I could not last, at least not nearly as long as I wanted to. The sight and sound of Mrs. Murray going crazy as a result of what I was doing was too much for me. I exploded inside of her, and as my cock spasmed Mrs. Murray's hands cupped my ass cheeks, pulling me close as I came.

It might not have lasted very long, but at least I had not totally screwed up. By the flushed and dazed look on Mrs. Murray's face, I might have done alright, and I eased down beside her on the bed and rolled on my back, both of us staring at the ceiling.

7. Resurrection.

My heart started beating normally again after a few moments, and I turned to face Mrs. Murray. She was still staring up into space, with her hand behind her head, seemingly deep in thought.

The soft glow of the setting sun that bled in through the blinds cast a beautiful glow on Mrs. Murray as my eyes enjoyed the view. As she laid on her back her breasts had completely disappeared except for those amazing aureolas that seemed to blossom even fuller to make up for it.

With her upraised arm, I got an incredible and unobstructed view of the wild spray of hair that seemed to explode out of the deep recess of her armpit. I stared at Mrs. Murray's underarm as if hypnotized, and the combination of her tiny breasts and the unshaven armpits gave me a whole new outlook on how very different a woman could be yet still maintain her femininity. She looked so wild yet so soft at the same time, and I thought she looked incredible.

"That was so very nice Adam," Mrs. Murray said, breaking me out of the trance I was in. When she looked over and saw me staring at her underarm, she looked startled.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Murray said in embarrassment as she started to bring her arm down. "That's not very nice of me."

"No, don't," I said, and grabbed her arm on the downswing and raised it back over her head. "It is nice... very nice."

I brought my hand up and ran my fingers softly through the lush growth, not caring for the moment what Mrs. Murray though of what I was doing. She shuddered as my fingers reached the inside of her bicep where the hair stopped.

"Did I tickle you? Sorry," I said as I looked up, feeling myself blush over what I was doing.

"No, it doesn't tickle," Mrs. Murray said as my fingers retraced their path and went back through her underarm. "I'm very sensitive there."

I noticed that her eyes were sparkling a little, and Mrs. Murray smiled when our eyes met again.

"Nothing. It reminds me of something that Jerry used... never mind," Mrs. Murray said. "Us old hippies die hard," she said with a smile.

On an impulse I leaned over and kissed the inside of her bicep, and then slowly nibbled my way down through the almost impossibly soft fur, and Mrs. Murray arched herself off the bedding with the back of the head as I nuzzled my way through the thicket.

"Adam, that's so..."

I didn't know what that something was, but I had already begun poking my erection into her hip when she started speaking, and the shocked look on her face was priceless.

"Adam, you have to be kidding!" was what I think she said next. The answer to that was no, I wasn't.

This time I lasted a lot longer, and as we went along, I got an education in a variety of new positions. They were all new to me, but I tried to be a quick learner. One minute we were sitting on the bed gently rocking in each other's laps, the next minute Mrs. Murray was on all fours with me humping over her like a madman.

My hands ran all over her back, across the galaxy of freckles that I had so often fantasized about, and soon I was clutching Mrs. Murray tight as I felt her cum once again.

I finally came, with Mrs. Murray on top of me straddling my cock and playing me like an instrument. Her pussy worked over my cock as she humped me, and I struggled to withstand her efforts to make me orgasm.

I was just about ready to tell her that I was ready to go all night when she began to sway wildly on me. When she reached up and grabbed her hair, stretching and writhing, I was glad that I had kept my mouth shut, because the sight of her made me erupt inside of her.

Mrs. Murray smiled as my cock jerked inside of her, and she kept riding until my orgasm eventually ended before finally easing down off of me and cuddling up in my arms.

8. The end is near.

I must have dropped off for a few minutes, because when I opened my eyes the sun had gone down and the only light was coming from the hall light. Mrs. Murray had her back to me and I was holding her in my arms. I leaned forward to kiss her neck before nibbling my way down her shoulders. If there was a little more light I would have taken the opportunity to count her freckles like I had always dreamed, but seeing as the lighting was less than perfect I had a better idea.

"Oh Adam, you are insatiable!" Mrs. Murray said as she felt something between her butt cheeks that was very hard. I gently ground up against her, hoping for another lesson.

"Well..." I said softly.

"Honey, I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow," Mrs. Murray said as she turned and raised herself up. "The movers are coming early and I've got to drive quite a ways. Besides, I'm just not used to all this, and I'm kinda sore down there!"

I might have pouted a little at hearing that, but I really don't think so. Anyway, Mrs. Murray started to get up and roll off the bed but then stopped. She looked up at me and then slowly bent over me.

"You always could melt my heart," Mrs. Murray said, just before she grabbed my erection.

As I watched in disbelief, Mrs. Murray bowed her head and ran her tongue over the crown of my cock. She looked up at me and smiled before wrapping her lips around me and sliding her mouth down my cock as her curly red locks fell down over her face.

I groaned loudly as Mrs. Murray's head bobbed up and down, engulfing my cock in a moist and wonderful embrace. Reaching down, I pulled her hair up so I could watch this magnificent sight. Her tongue danced along the underside of my cock while her mouth slid up and down in a relentless rhythm.

There was no teasing here, as she was intent on making me cum, and cum quickly. Even if it hadn't felt so wonderful, the sight of Mrs. Murray sucking and licking my cock would have done me in fast enough, despite my wanting this moment to last forever.

I tried to warn her that I was about to cum, but she didn't seem to care, and she only hastened the process by taking me deeper and harder. When I began to cum, she swallowed my seed eagerly while working her fingers around the base of my dick to try and milk every last drop out of me. Even after I stopped groaning and moaning and my cock had begun to wither, she kept sucking until I finally pulled her off of me.

Our eyes met and her head came up, and I smiled when Mrs. Murray's tongue darted over and captured a little drop of semen that had tried to trickle out of the corner of her mouth.

"Get dressed baby," Mrs. Murray said as she patted my thigh before she climbed off the bed and walked out of the bedroom on her way to the bathroom.

Out of all the moments of that evening, the thing I remember as much or more than anything else was the graceful way she glided across the room. So smooth and almost cat-like, her lithe and sleek figure still magnificent after all these years, she looked back at me on the bed and smiled just before she turned the corner.

9. The end.

I thought about trying to see if I could talk her in to letting me stay the night, but decided against it. No point in ruining what had been the highlight of my life by pushing things, so I got dressed and used her facilities after she exited them.

Looking at myself in the mirror I looked ragged but not very different than I had a few hours earlier. I was different though, and I would never be the same again, and the feeling that gave me was bittersweet. After I got myself together I moved slowly out to the kitchen, while muscles that I had never used before screamed their discontent.

Mrs. Murray had a check for her delivery in her hand and I felt silly taking it, but realized how it would look if I told her to forget it. We walked silently to the front door as I searched for words that would possibly be enough to describe the way I felt.

"Adam, I hope this hasn't changed the way you feel about me, because I would hate myself if it did," Mrs. Murray said, and I noticed her eyes were as watery as mine were becoming.

"Well, when I got here I was in love with you," I choked out. "Now I'm leaving and I'm still in love with you. Maybe more."

"That's good," Mrs. Murray said. "What we just shared was very special to me, I want you to know that. I certainly wasn't expecting it to happen, but now that it did I'm very happy."