Nailing Ellen Ch. 01

I held them up to my face and for the first time smelled the musky perfume of a woman in heat. My cock instantly began to swell

Locking my door, I quickly stripped, went to my sock drawer and took out the hand lotion I kept there. With the lights off, I lay down and smelled Ellen's panties again. The effect on my cock was amazing. I could have pounded nails with it.

With lotion on my hand, I began stroking, slow ones from the head of my cock down to the bottom and back again. Putting the panties over my face, I used both hands, simulating what I thought a vagina might feel like.

In my mind I could see Ellen with her formal dress, the bodice open and her breasts spilling out. She was straddling me, her hands back on my knees as she ground her pelvis forward into my body, my cock way up inside her.

"Ohhh, Ronny, you feel so good inside me. I love your cock. Why didn't you tell me you have such a nice one?"

As she drove herself and me to a tremendous climax, I could see that almost dazed expression of lust she'd had on her face not two hours before. As I came like never before, my semen shooting up nearly two feet, Ellen's moans were echoing in my head.

I spent a lot of quality time with those bewitching panties, safely storing them in a sealed plastic bag to retain their delicious odors for as long as possible.

That summer, I had to work my ass off to have enough money since I'd spent over half of my savings on securing the Soul Men for the dance, so I didn't get out to many parties. Debby also was very reticent to go.

She obviously knew or at least suspected that I was more hot for Ellen than her, so she loosened up just a tiny bit. The next time we went out (to a movie), she leaned over during it and kissed me. It was unusual for her to initiate anything. Still burning up with desire for Ellen, I responded. When I ran my hand up her side and rested it near her breast, she didn't angrily push it away.

Once back in the car, which was parked in a dark corner of the lot, we began making out again. I held her with my hand on the side of her breast. No protest. I slowly inched my hand until it was resting on top of it. I could feel her very hard nipple against the center of my palm.

Debby pulled back. "You do love me don't you, Ronny?"

"Absolutely and completely," I lied.

She let me keep my hand there and began kissing me much more fiercely. It wasn't until I tried to massage her nipple with my thumb that she finally put a stop to my boundary pushing.

"That's enough for this evening," she said primly as she removed my hand. "Let's get a shake and some fries now. I'm hungry."

Debby kept me strung along all that summer with tantalizing bits of petting, never much, but enough to keep me bewitched by the possibilities.

Over the course of the summer I didn't speak to Ellen at all, hardly even saw her, until the week before we went off to college. We both wound up at the same gas station, filling our cars.

"Hey, Ronny," she smiled, "how have you been keeping? I haven't seen you around for awhile."

My heart was thumping. "Hard at work," I answered. "You off to college soon?"

"Yup. Princeton. You?"

"Just the state college nearby. I'll be living at home."

"Well, good luck. I'll be back in town now and then. Hopefully, we'll see each other."

"And good luck to you. I know you'll do great things," I blurted out.

She looked at me quizzically, then went in to pay. I followed a minute or two later and passed her going back to her car. When I came out again, she was still there.

Ellen came up to me. "I don't think I ever thanked you for bailing us out the night of the grad formal."

She moved forward and gave me a big hug. As her soft breasts pushed into my chest, I was desperately willing my cock to behave itself. I felt her head move and the next thing I knew her soft lips were on my cheek. Her scent filled my nostrils, actually making my knees feel weak.

"Take care, Ronny. You're a special person and I know you'll do well, too."

I came THIS close to asking her out, but with a smile and a wave, she got into her car and drove off before I could work up the nerve.

It was more than 20 years before I saw Ellen again, and a lot of water had passed under the bridge. But I never forgot that kiss at the gas station, nor the expression on her face as she'd orgasmed the night of the grad formal. She still haunted my dreams.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

My college years were some of the most enjoyable of my life. It started out a bit rocky, though, but that was on the personal front.

I'd picked the state school I was attending because I could still live at home and commute to class. This saved me a lot of money, and since my dad had passed away when I was 14, mom had trouble making end meet sometimes, so school was basically on my ticket with help from dad's social security and a scholarship.

One night we were having dinner when the doorbell rang. It was Debby and she wanted to talk. She suggested a walk and did not want to come in. The long and short of it was she didn't want to go steady anymore. I thought at the time (encouraged by her comments) that it was because I wasn't around enough and this was leading to us drifting apart. It turned out, though, that she'd had her eye on someone else.

I was devasted for about a month, then thought, "What the hell, she wasn't that great anyway," and was more or less over her.

With all the gorgeous and willing coeds around school, it wasn't hard to get plenty of dates. Some were a lot better than others, if you know what I mean.

Even though I was in Commerce, I spent a lot of time in the Psych section of the library. The thought of Ellen's sexuality was still so intriguing to me. It became my "hobby" to explore the range of a human female's sexual response.

A girl named Jill got my "cherry". She was great, a lot of fun, but not with much imagination. For instance, since I'd found a very willing partner, I wanted to see what cunnilingus was like. Jill, unfortunately, thought it was "gross", as was oral sex on her part. She would also jump into bed with nearly anyone and hated condoms. We screwed 3 times, but I was in terror of getting some disease or other. It was Jill who first told me that I had a large cock. Stupidly, I hadn't realized that.

Through being with nearly 50 women in my first three years of college, and with all my supplementary study in the library, I learned quite a lot. I was not the sort of man most women were used to. I asked questions: "Does this feel good?" "Do you like when I do that?" Some didn't want to talk, others found it "liberating" that a male actually wanted them to enjoy sex over his own enjoyment. The more they got turned on, the more I got turned on. We all won.

The ones who would willingly enlighten me I kept seeing (and they passed me around to like-minded friends). The others I let go. Some weeks I was hard pressed to complete my studying, but boy, I got laid a lot.

As for Ellen, I saw her once or twice over holidays, but never got any alone time with her. Being in a big city on the East Coast, she changed pretty dramatically.

I was at someone's Christmas party in my sophomore year when she came in wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with a cropped bottom, bell-bottom jeans that rode low and sandals. Keep in mind, this was winter. She looked more enchanting than ever. We didn't see many hippies in our town.

Problem was she had a similarly-dressed guy with her. He had a beard and when I got close enough, I realized he was at least 30, if not older.

Later on in the party, she came up to me, threw her arms around my neck and planted a sloppy kiss on my lips. Boyfriend was hovering in the background.

"Ronny, my love," she said too loudly, "how is life treating you?"

I shrugged as she pulled away. "Fine, I guess. School is going well, if that's what you mean."

"It is, oh, it is. I'm very glad to hear that."

"You?"

"University has been very...enlightening."

Boyfriend whisked Ellen away then, but it wasn't long before I caught up on the party buzz about her. The guy was a teaching assistant in a course she was taking. They'd become "lovers" and he'd introduced her to the pleasures of drug-taking.

Ellen had definitely been high on something that night.

I heard the next summer, she was working in Africa in the Peace Corps and nothing after that because her parents moved away.

In my senior year, I met the woman who became my wife. She was a psych major and caught me prowling the stacks. It wasn't long before I was prowling her bed.

Marilyn was and still is a beautiful woman. Tall, blonde, with what might be called a "statuesque" figure, she was the complete opposite of Ellen (and Debby, for that matter). The one thing they had in common was their intellect. Marilyn is probably the most brilliant person I know, wise beyond her years.

After graduation, she continued on, getting a masters, then a doctorate. I borrowed money to get an MBA. We lived off-campus in a funky apartment, spent long evenings with friends talking about anything and everything. I eventually tried dope and got an inkling of where Ellen had been that last time I spoke to her.

Muffy, as she was called, became my best friend and I still love her dearly. There was only one small fly in the ointment: she has a pretty low sex drive when she's stressed. Job and family always comes first with her. If there's energy and time left over, than she might be up for sex.

I didn't realize this at first. You know how it is in that first blush of love, you want to screw every chance you get. Muffy was a willing partner, and maybe it was the fact that she was majoring in psychology, but she was pretty open-minded. As the years went on, though, and pressures of her job and our burgeoning family mounted, she would often be too tired, too preoccupied or just not interested.

Taking over as much of the household load as I could handle didn't really help, either. She had a successful practice and often held therapy sessions in the evening. By the time she dragged herself to bed, often after 10:00, sex was certainly not on the menu -- sleep was. As our two children got older, she also worried about them hearing us.

We carved out a nice existence, though. I had a job I really loved involving mergers and acquisitions, and Dr. Muff (as I enjoyed calling her) loved her practice. We had two great kids, a boy and a girl, and a nice house in a nice town in Oregon. The only thing that kept me from saying I had a perfect marriage was the sex department.

Muffy understood my dilemma and did the best she could, but it wasn't much fun when she was just going through the motions for me. Ever since Ellen, I'd found that my enjoyment of sex was centered around my partner's enjoyment. If that wasn't there, I was seldom turned on.

On the few and far between nights that Muffy was horny, sex was fabulous. I loved it when she'd grab my head and pull it into her pussy as I was tonguing her to orgasm. My cock would be like iron when I mounted her.

When we'd hit a dry patch, though, I would be left to my own devices. Even at the best of times, I would wind up masturbating at least 3 or 4 times a week. My primary inspiration for this was usually Ellen. Even after nearly 20 years, I could still see the expression on her face as she'd ridden Bruce's cock, grinding her clit into his pubic bone, taking her pleasure. Muffy seldom went for it with that kind of gusto.

Then, out of the blue, something happened that turned my life upside down.

Muffy was out at her office with an evening of group therapy sessons, and I was watching TV as the kids did their homework up in their rooms. The phone rang. I went out to the kitchen to answer.

"Is this Ronny Blair?" a female voice asked and it was instantly very familiar.

"Ellen?"

"Yes."

Completely stunned, I sat down on a chair at the kitchen table. "This IS a surprise. It's so good to hear your voice."

"And yours, too," she answered. "How the hell are you?"

Well, the phone call went on for well over an hour as we caught up on our lives since high school. Ellen had called because she was part of the organizing committee for our class' 20th anniversary reunion.

"You weren't at the 10th," she said, "and no one could find you. We had a blast and you were missed."

"Yeah, right," I shot back. "It's not like I was the most popular guy in the class."

"I was sorry you weren't there."

I instantly regretted not going. True, I'd been in Europe at the time, closing a big deal, but if I'd given it more than a passing thought, I could have made the scene with a bit of juggling.

She gave me the details of what was being planned for the reunion that coming June. "Think you can make it?"

"It would be nice to see people again," I answered, wondering about other possibilities, "but I can't really make a solid commitment now. My life isn't settled one week in advance most times, let alone 10 months ahead."

"Shall I put you down as a definite maybe?"

"Sure."

"Great! Look, it's been fantastic talking to you, but I have a ton more calls to make, so I'd better get on to that. You sound just the same, Ronny."

"You do, too, Ellen. Let's keep in touch."

Being the late '80s, more and more people had email and Ellen was one of them. We exchanged addresses and signed off.

I sat there shaking my head. God, it HAD been great talking to her again.

Looking at the clock, I saw that it was not even 9:30 and Muff wasn't due back until well after 10:00. Seizing the opportunity, I went upstairs and told the kids I was going to take a shower and to not bother me unless the house caught fire. My real intention was to spend some quality time with an old yearbook, the KY jelly and my cock. Muff and I hadn't made love in nearly a week and I'd been ultra horny before Ellen's call. Now, my cock was nearly at half-mast without any stimulation.

As I took down our final yearbook, I flipped it open to Ellen's grad photo, wondering what she looked like now. Her voice hadn't changed much, maybe a little lower, but after 20 years, she could be 100 pounds overweight and look like a slob. Or she might be just as alluring as ever.

In our en suite bathroom, I looked at my naked body in the mirror. I still had a full head of hair, but I'd definitely put on a few pounds over the years. Not horribly overweight, I still looked chubby and soft. Maybe going to this reunion was the impetus I needed to get myself trim again. Muffy, too.

My cock twitched when I replayed our conversation. Ellen didn't say much about it, but I got the feeling things weren't great between her husband (first or second?) and herself. They had no kids. She was living in upstate New York, outside of Rochester and working as a school secretary -- not one of the great things I'd imagined for her.

Putting a load of KY on my hand, I greased up my cock which was swelling far more quickly than I was used to. I sat down on the closed toilet seat and spread my legs.

My cock was soon rampant, hard, hot, its head almost purple in color. One of my early lovers had measured it one night. It was 8 1/4" long and 6 1/2" around. Most of my lovers told me I was the largest they'd had. Only one had not been able to accommodate me, with a few others not enjoying it, mostly because they were worried that I'd hurt them.

Muffy had enjoyed my size right from the start. We'd gone back to her dorm room on our fifth or sixth date. Her roommate was away for the weekend, and we quickly took advantage of the situation by lying down on her bed.

Up till then, we'd only done a bit of petting. She'd let me play with her breasts on the second date and we'd been progressing slowly from there. I didn't know if she was a virgin, and I'd found it most successful with women not to ask about that. It put pressure on them, regardless of if they were or weren't. Not a virgin and they knew you would expect to get into their pants. If they were a virgin, they'd think you were after that. Either way, it was a bad move.

That night, I guess because Muffy felt more at ease in the familiar surroundings rather than in my car, she allowed me to open her blouse, then remove her bra. Her breasts were full and magnificent, her nipples, hard and dark pink. Being blonde, she had almost no color in her areolae.

We progressed rapidly from there and were soon naked. When I pulled down my briefs, Muffy smiled.

"All that for me?"

Well, I found out that night my future wife wasn't a virgin.

None of that was on my mind, though, as I stroked my cock that evening 15 years later. I was imagining Ellen straddling me, slowly engulfing my length and then riding me hard to an explosive orgasm while I pulled and twisted her nipples just the way she liked.

When Muff got home that evening, listening ears or no listening ears, tired or not, I took her, hard and from behind the way she liked. Having already jerked off, I made her cum twice before I filled her with my semen.

"What got into you this evening?" she asked as we cuddled afterwards.

I lied and told her that I'd been remembering that time I took her on the beach one evening during a vacation in the Caribbean.

But as I'd pounded into Muffy's "Muffy" that evening, I'd been thinking of only one thing: nailing Ellen.