Helping a Friend

An old mate of mine, George by name, had recently moved house. He was now residing in a nice little unit. He had a little problem that I'd offered to fix for him, namely that he was totally incompetent in wiring together a computer and all its peripherals. I muck around with them a lot and know what I'm doing so I told him I'd hook his system together. It would only take me fifteen minutes.

I rolled up to the units and promptly hit problem number one. While I'd keyed the address into the GPS I hadn't included the unit number. Where was the unit number? On my phone with the rest of the text messages, so no problems, right? Wrong. Problem number two was a flat phone battery. Still not a worry. I just knocked on the door of the first unit I came to.

"Excuse me for bothering you," I said, "But I'm looking for the unit number for George..."

That's all I had time to say. The guy I was speaking to interrupted.

"Number three," he said, pointing, and closed the door again.

Apparently George had introduced himself around. Probably a smart move in a small set of units like these. A case of having everyone know each other.

I ambled across to number three and pressed the bell to be greeted by silence. I shrugged and knocked. No answer. Still, the main door was open and George was expecting me, so I walked into the front room and called out.

"Coming," someone said and then a young lady walked into the room.

My jaw dropped and bounced off the floor. My eyes damn near bugged out of my head and I said something along the lines of, "Gaah-ook."

I then managed to unswallow my tongue.

"You're not George," I said.

"Actually, I am," she said. "Georgina if you must be semantically correct."

Now you're probably wondering why I was so surprised. I guess the way that the young lady was attired contributed to my feeling of surprise. To be concise, she wasn't. Attired, that is. Naked as the day she was born.

She stood about five foot six, if she lifted herself up onto her toes. I put her age at twenty, twenty one at most. She had blonde hair and green eyes and apparently liked to shave the more personal parts of her body. Her breast were high and plentiful, standing proudly without the hint of a sag. Her figure was shapely with generous hips and beautifully curved legs. A paean of praise for this beauty echoed in my mind.

I have to admit that she seemed a little surprised to see me. Her hands started out from her sides and then she relaxed again. I could practically feel her rejection of doing a hand dance to cover herself.

"I'm, ah, I'm looking for George Paradolos," I managed to say. "When I asked for George at the other unit they pointed out this one."

*

I'd had a busy day doing quite a bit of housekeeping. Feely gritty and grimy after that I'd gone and had a shower. After I'd had my shower and dried and before I could get dressed I heard the security door bang closed and a male voiced called out. I guessed Andy was home early for some reason. I thought I'd surprise him and greet him clad the way I was, but without the towel which I tossed onto the bed.

I danced into the front room with a welcoming smile on my face and then just stood there like a fool. There was a strange man standing in the front room. It was funny in a way. He looked as though someone had walked up behind him and hit him very hard across the back of the head.

It didn't take me long to assess him. Big, six foot at least, and muscled to go with it. Blonde, brown eyes, not un-handsome, and possibly a little slow mentally. I mention this last because he just stood there, looking at me and going, "Gaah," or something like that.

I felt my hands twitch as I found I had a desperate desire to cover myself but then I had a very strong case of the hell I would. I mean, why should I? I was at home, minding my own business, and I could be naked if I wanted to be.

"You're not George," he accused me, and accused is the right word. Apparently not being George was a crime and I'd committed it.

"I am so George, or Georgina if you want to be pedantic," I defended myself with a shrug. Not guilty, that was me.

It was quite funny to watch his reaction when I shrugged. My breasts bounced a little and I'm prepared to swear that so did his eyes. Boy, talk about touching someone with your eyes. His were all over me. I could practically feel them moving around my body as he tried to see it all at once. No shy peeping for this guy.

He mumbled something about a George Paradolos and I guess that was who he expected to find.

"Oh, he's probably the new guy," I guessed. "Try unit ten."

I could feel my nipples puckering under his gaze. I think he was deliberately willing them to do it and they were reacting to his force of will. This guy was bad news and it was time for him to leave.

"Don't forget to close the door on your way out," I hinted.

*

Georgina, there was no way I'd ever think of her as George, said something about unit 10, which I guess was George's unit. It was odd but she seemed completely blasé about being caught in the nude. There didn't appear to be and worry or embarrassment.

I'd been trying to keep my eyes on her face for the sake of common politeness but politeness was fighting a losing battle with libido. My eyes just naturally traced those curve, watched her movements. When she shrugged her breasts gave this cute little bounce and I almost swallowed my tongue. I couldn't help but watch them and even as I watched I could see her nipples puckering, tightening up and standing out. It was a bit of a relief, really, as it showed she wasn't completely indifferent to me.

"Um, right, unit ten," I mumbled, making absolutely no effort to depart.

She waited and I waited and for a moment neither of us spoke. Finally I gave a sigh. I finally managed to look her in the eye and spoke what was uppermost in my mind.

"You can't really expect me to turn around and walk away without at least touching you?" I explained.

"Yes I can," she said very quickly, finally showing some reaction by blushing slightly.

I just shook my head and moved closer to her. She stood her ground, not backing up by as much as an inch. I ran my hands lightly over her breasts, feeling their warm silken texture. My thumbs brushed lightly against her nipples, and I could feel her breasts swelling under my touch.

"I'm sorry," I told her, "but there's no way I can prevent myself making love to you."

*

He mumbled something about unit ten and then just stood there looking at me. It was embarrassing. Hadn't he ever seen a woman before? He must have. There was no way a man like him was a virgin. He muttered something about touching me but I very quickly put the kibosh on that idea.

"No, you can't," I flatly stated, or something to that effect.

I might as well have been speaking to a wall. At least the wall would have stayed in the same place. This guy just started moving towards me. He wasn't exactly leaping upon me, but he certainly closed the distance, pausing when he was just in front of me, mainly I guess because I stood my ground. Backing off would have made me the prey and him the predator and I hate to think of what might happen in that case.

His hands came up and he started stoking my breasts. I could feel a tightness, a heaviness, in them, and I almost squeaked when he brushed his thumbs across my nipples. Only almost. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

When he finally released my breasts I was all ready to throw caution to the wind. Panic, and run seemed to be the order of the day. I had to give myself a stern talking-to to keep my composure.

"I have no choice but to lie you down and make love to you," he told me. He sounded as though he was speaking kindly but he was also speaking with a great deal of determination.

Make love to me? He wanted to lay me flat on my back in the middle of my front room and have sex with me? I mean, he was a nice big man, and polite, and looked awfully strong, but still. I found myself wondering about his mental state. I was also incidentally wondering just how big he was where it counted, not that I wanted to find out.

Whatever, I had to nip this whole thing in the bud right now, before it got out of hand.

"If you must, you must," I told him with a small sigh, and then shut up, shocked at myself. Had I just given him permission? It certainly sounded like it to me.

He apparently didn't need an engraved invitation. He swung me off my feet and had me lying on the carpet just like that. He settled down next to me, one hand holding a breast, shaping it so it wasn't just lying there, flattened by gravity. With that he bent his head and kissed it, his lips closing over my nipple and sucking lightly.

*

I didn't need a written invitation. Neither did I feel inclined to give Georgina a chance to change her mind. Whether she meant she was accepting what I wanted to do or not it certainly sounded like it. My hands closed over her and I had her swung off her feet and flat on her back on the carpet tout de sweet. (That's French for pretty damn quick.)

I settled down next to her, one hand cupping and shaping a breast and then my mouth closed over it. I teased that breast and nipple and let my mouth drift across her, seeking her other breast. At the same time I had a hand go wandering down her body, examining all the curves and dents and little rises until finally it wound up covering her mound.

With that much of a start I started playing, teasing her breasts and exploring forbidden places, rubbing and probing and generally getting thoroughly acquainted.

Interesting sport but eventually I wanted more. I eased her legs further apart and settled between them, my head coming down upon her pussy. I have to admit she started making some very interesting noises once my tongue started doing naughty things.

*

He had his mouth on my mound, for god's sake. He was kissing and licking me. I started protesting when his tongue intruded inside me, probing quite deeply. He just ignored anything I said. Maybe he wasn't listening. Maybe I wasn't making myself too clear. I seemed to have a little problem speaking coherently while some of the things he was doing were taking place.

I knew roughly what he was doing with his tongue and where it was. It would have been hard not to, because it was my body he was doing it to. I could feel when he started to edge towards my clitoris and I hastily grabbed his hair to drag his head away from there. I was not going to have him licking my clitoris.

I pulled on his hair, squeaking something along the lines of, "Not there, damn you," only to be totally ignored. That squeaking changed to a proper shriek when his tongue started work just where I told him not to. I was shrieking and pulling at his hair and almost bouncing off the floor as his tongue lashed some very sensitive places.

I was in deep trouble here. If he kept this up I was going to climax without his cock ever making an appearance.

*

I have to say that she was a sucker for oral play. As soon as my tongue started a little internal work she was shrieking with approval, hands tangled in my hair, holding my head in place. The closer I moved towards her clitoris the louder and more excited she became. I swear she was holding my hair so tightly by this stage that I couldn't have withdrawn my head if I wanted to. Which I didn't.

A note of desperation crept into her squealing and I figured she was going to have a minor climax in short order. When that happened it would provide an ideal time to drop my trousers and get the main show on the road.

I probed a few more times and she lost it. She jerked hard, letting my hair go, shaking as her orgasm took control of her. Like I said, that was the signal for me to drop my trousers and move up and over her.

I was now partly kneeling, partly lying over her, held away from her body by being propped up on my arms. My cock was as hard as a rock, pressed lightly against her mons, all ready to do its own exploring.

She came out of her mini-climax and her eyes focused on me. Then they ran down my body and focused on what was pressing against her lower down. She started breathing harder, anticipation on her face, waiting for me to proceed. I just stayed where I was.

After a few moments of her watching my cock I spoke up.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well what?" she asked, confused.

"I'm waiting," I pointed out. "I can't do everything myself. Right now I need my hands to prop myself up."

"You expect me to?" She left the question hanging there.

"Now you've got the idea," I agreed.

Now she looked shocked as well as expectant. Her eyes seemed to switch from my face, to my cock, to my face, and back again, as she tried to determine if I was serious. She must have decided that I was as her hand crept out and glommed hold of my cock, stroking it.

*

I couldn't believe this guy. After that dastardly assault with his tongue he now had the nerve to expect me to steer him into position. I nervously closed my hand around his erection, trying to determine by touch just how big it was. Visually it had looked to be a little on the large size. Now that I was holding it, it felt to be more on the enormous size. Did he seriously expect me to be able to handle something like that?

Cocks were fascinating things in my opinion. So big and hard at times only to collapse like deflated balloons after a little exercise. Women don't fall apart like that. Just shows we're so much better at some things. Times like this they were quite hot, too, and the way men react when you play with them! Really, it was quite ridiculous.

I was idly scaping my fingernails across the head when it dawned on me that there seemed to be a bit of noise. Oh, right. Someone was swearing quite loudly. Really, some people are so impatient. I was only playing with it. It's not as though I was going to hurt the poor thing. Still, I'd better help the poor man before he broke something.

I delicately adjusted the position of his fun gun so it was nudging the entrance to joy parade. He promptly drove forward hard. Not that it helped him any as I was still holding on rather firmly. All he accomplished was to butt the head of his cock against my softness, sort of mashing it a little.

I laughed and he said another rude word.

"Slow but steady wins the race," I chided him. "Rushing gets you nowhere."

I was pleased to see that he took the hint. As soon as I let go he started his advance, but now he took his time. It was obvious to me that the man was trainable.

Slowly but surely he penetrated me, being somewhat restrained as he came. It wasn't until he was nearly home that he relapsed and did an urgent push to finish off his entry. I let him have that little victory.

*

She took hold of my cock and I was all ready for my fun to start. So what did she do? She started playing with it. Squeezing it and stroking it, holding it tightly and pumping her hand. I suggested that she stop stuffing around and got on with it but she seemed to have turned deaf. I've noticed this failing before with some women. Once they have their hands on your cock they don't hear a word you're saying.

I said a few impolite words and suggested in a louder voice that she might want to just position my cock properly and was once more ignored.

I have to admit that I was breathing a little harder now. Having a young woman paying such close attention to me was nerve wracking. My cock was getting harder by the second and my balls were in a lamentable state.

It wasn't until she started lightly scratching the head that I realised what a poor position I was in. She could ruin me for life the way she was going. I put forth quite a colourful suggestion as to what she should be doing with my cock and she looked up at me, blinking with surprise. She was lying, I just knew it. She wasn't the least surprised.

"What?" she said, the total innocent. "Oh, you want to get a move on? OK."

"Geez, some people are so impatient," she muttered softly, but not so softly that I didn't hear her and I'll bet I was supposed to. I didn't say anything as she was at last aligning my cock with her passage. Now I had a chance to show her just how impatient I was.

I drove fiercely into her and damn near broke my cock. She still had a tight hold on it and it wasn't going anywhere until she relinquished it.

She said something to me with a slight edge to her voice. I wasn't exactly listening but the message came through loud and clear. Take it slowly, or else. I didn't ask what the or else would be because I really and truly didn't want to know. It had occurred to me that I was dealing with a very dangerous woman.

She released her prize and I gained mine, sliding smoothly into position. I took it slowly, as ordered, until I was nearly home, and then I finished off with a bang, just showing her I wouldn't be pushed around.

I now started some serious fun time. I saw no need to hurry. I'd just take my time in case she needed a little education on how to handle a big man. I needn't have bothered I found. She started pushing up to meet me right from the word go.

It wasn't just her hips she used, either. Her legs came up and wrapped around me, holding me tight. Her hands were clutching my shoulders, pulling me firmly against her, and she writhed underneath me, rubbing her breasts against me. Apparently not happy with my shirt being there she ripped it open and pushed my singlet up out of the way. She wanted skin to skin contact and was determined to get it.

*

I had to give him marks for consideration. He seemed to know what to do but took his time doing it, making sure I had time to adjust to his movements. I matched him quite easily, at the same time sending out some subtle signals that I wouldn't be averse to a more aggressive style. He didn't really take the hint but did settle down to a faster pace.

Seeing he couldn't take a subtle hint I decided to give him a more pointed one. I wrapped my legs around his waist, putting more effort into my rising to meet him. At the same time I rubbed my breasts against his chest. Men love it when you do that sort of thing.

I was tempted to say something rude, I was so exasperated. Men love it once they've got a girl naked but you just try and take all their clothes off. I think it has to do with them being scared of commitment. If they're naked they can't rush straight out the door afterwards and that leaves them feeling they have to stick around a while. Still, I like feeling a hairy chest pressed again me.

I ripped his shirt open and pushed up his singlet. That accomplished I was able to crush my breasts against him, writhing slightly under him so that he could feel them rubbing, especially my nipples. I was also flexing my legs harder, trying to force him to put a bit more oomph into his efforts. I don't know why some men think women are fragile little creatures that they might break if they give her a decent fuck. Like I said, when they're spent and left with a ragged worm we're still ready to tackle an anaconda.

He finally got the hint and started putting some muscle behind the meat, driving in nice and hard. I stayed with him with no problems, quite happy to ride out the storm.

I must say he put on a good performance, banging away in fine style. Lucky for me he was a stayer, keeping on going for a decent stretch, with my excitement building the entire time, lifting me higher and higher. Men are lucky. They can delay their climax with a bit of skill. Me, I'm not nearly so lucky. I'm an all or nothing sort of girl. If I feel a climax coming on then you'd better ride hard boy because if you stop before I'm ready I'll die right down and you'll have to start from the beginning.

He did ride hard, going faster and harder as his own time neared. I was urging him on, nearly there and so afraid that he'd finish before I was ready. Then I took off, my climax rolling through me in an unstoppable wave, me struggling to make sure I didn't scream my head off.