Serena and the Soccer Mom

(In a previous story I introduced Serena and made mention of an incident that happened while she was on vacation at the beach. Several people have asked me to relate that story. I'm sorry its taken so long to get to it.)

*

I finished rubbing the oil over my legs and stretched out on my blanket. I had lowered the canvas chair, adjusting it to the point where it supported only my upper body. I wiped my hands clean on a towel, picked up my book and slipped my sunglasses back on.

The sun felt wonderful on my body. Some people might consider the suntan oil a waste of money. But anyone of any skin shade can burn. I liked the way it accented my ebony skin. Besides, the simple act of running my hands over my body drew a great deal of attention to me, and that I didn't mind at all. Sooner or later I expected the attention would be from someone I would be interested in.

I smiled a secret little grin as I looked down over my body. I was already glistening slightly from my workout over at the "Muscle Beach" area. Interestingly, the guys over there recognized and accepted me for who I was, a middle-aged black butch in top shape. There were no unwanted passes and complimentary comments were just that, compliments not intended to try to flatter me into bed. Oh, I was sure that the ones interested in females enjoyed the fantasy of bedding me, in the same way I enjoyed the fantasy of bedding a straight woman. There was a difference of course. I had bedded more than one "straight" woman in my lifetime.

I glanced around. Peeking over the tops of my sunglasses. I was drawing attention all right. Admiring glances were being shot at me by several others laying nearby as well as a number of passer-bys. The trouble was that so far all were males, except for one teenage girl who sported enough tattoos and piercings to put Captain Jack Sparrow to shame. Not my type at all.

I acknowledged that perhaps I wasn't coming across as completely butch, which I am. I was wearing a very small, very daringly cut bikini. But after all, what WAS I going to wear on the summer beach, my lace-up boots and the overalls I wore when metal-sculpting? I'm butch, but I'm also a woman.

I squirmed against the chair propping me up. Regardless of what happened, or didn't happen, this little vacation was just what the doctor ordered. I had been working pretty much non-stop for over a year. I hadn't been dating, not for real. Oh, occasionally I had hit the lesbian clubs in the city where I lived and had my shop. I had also occasionally brought someone home. But, to be honest, all I had done with those little lesbian femmes was fuck them and forget them as soon as they were out the door the next morning. They all blended together into one faceless blur. Months ago I had stopped even that. I just wanted something different.

I returned to reading. I would be taking a University art class beginning in the fall and had picked up the course textbook. Granted, it didn't cover my two major interests, Sapphic and African art, but there was an interesting chapter on modernism that was already making me think about a couple of possible new pieces. I continued to be aware of my surroundings though. That was how I noticed that a blonde woman about 25 meters away was surreptitiously giving me the once-over. Perhaps it was the twice-over.

I pushed my sunglasses back up, the better to unobtrusively examine her while she did the same to me. Early/middle thirties, an hourglass figure that threatened to pop loose any moment from the two piece suit that was doing a remarkably poor job of restraining her curves. Full breasts and a generous bottom. The soft swell of her stomach was explained by the two children who squabbled next to her.

I looked closer. She really wasn't hard to peg. Standard suburban soccer mom with two early teens, one girl and one boy. Possibly with a part-time job, possibly stay-at-home. I've never wanted children myself, but I acknowledge what a tremendous task it is being a mother. I suspected that like so many of her type, she was pouring her energy into them, into the husband who was presently ignoring her to watch the young females in their bikinis and into her home. She never took the time for herself. Those few extra pounds, although I found them attractive, showed she never had the time or energy to work out. She probably tried to diet but was always breaking it at the worst times.

I set my book down. Removing my sunglasses, I slowly scanned the entire area. She looked away as my gaze neared her. I waited, my eyes on her, until she thought I had looked past her. When she peeked again, my eyes met hers and locked.

I didn't do anything but look at her. I didn't make any gestures, lick my lips, or anything. I simply stared into her eyes until she flushed and looked away. I smiled to myself, replaced my sunglasses and leaned back again.

She must have decided that it was time to go. She kept shooting sideways glances as her brood gathered up beach blankets and coolers and all the rest of the paraphernalia a family brings to the beach. I teased her for a moment, pretending to have completely forgotten her and her watching me until they started up the beach. Then I rose, stretched up on my toes and flexed my body, twisting back and forth to get the kinks out. Still not paying attention to her now wide-eyed appraisal, I strolled on a course that intercepted them at the open showers where everyone was rinsing the salt water from their bodies.

"Pardon me," I murmured as I slipped beside her, blocking her slightly from everyone else. As the cold water ran over us, I casually turned and brushed the tips of my fingers along the curve of her ass cheek. I smiled to myself at the smothered gasp and proceeded to walk up the boardwalk to the hotel without looking back. I could feel her eyes on me.

That evening after dinner, I sat out on the hotel veranda listening to the crash of the waves out in the darkness. Music came from the nightclub attached to the hotel. A warm wind tossed the branches of the trees separating the hotel from the beachfront. I was comfortable in khaki slacks and a loose men's shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I had one foot braced on the porch railing and rocked my chair slowly.

I heard the screen door to the hotel creak but didn't turn around. I sensed someone sitting down, leaving a couple of chairs vacant between us. I didn't speak, continuing to rock. Finally I heard a throat clear beside me and turned to look.

It was her, of course, my little blonde soccer mom from the beach. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress and flip-flops. The dress was tight on her full body and I could see her nipples through the thin material.

I continued to rock for a moment, then stopped.

"Where are your children?"

"At a pool party the hotel organized."

"And your husband?"

"He had to go back to the city. There's a crisis at work he had to handle." She tried to sound proud of his responsibilities, but came across as disappointed.

I nodded. I waited a minute or two longer before I stood up, picking up a folded beach blanket from the chair on my other side as I rose. I walked to the steps that went to the path that disappeared into the darkness and down to the beach.

"Come on." I told her.

She blushed. I knew what she was thinking. Was she that obvious? To me she was. I was willing to bet large amounts of cash that she had experimented a bit with a friend "back in the days". Probably the usual, practicing kissing with another girl. She had never let it go any further than that, perhaps with just a tiny bit of touching. But she thought back on those days on occasions and wished she had gone further. She really had no idea how to know if any of her female neighbors or coworkers felt the same as she did. But me, well, it was pretty damn obvious who I was. But she really had no idea how to come on to me.

Normally I'm all for a bit of seduction, especially with a straight woman. Tonight I put that aside. My soccer mom had screwed her courage to the sticking place, and talk would do nothing more than just scare her off. I locked eyes with her and held out my hand.

Five minutes later we had made our way down the trail to the beach and we were safely tucked in the dunes, out of sight from any casual passer-by, the bright moonlight illuminating us. I released her hand long enough to spread the blanket out on the sand. Then I turned back to her and took both her hands in mine.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she whispered. "You didn't ask me. You just told me. I didn't even answer you."

"I didn't wait for an answer because you would have tried to stammer some excuse. I knew you really wanted to come, but you would talk yourself out of it, if I allowed you. So I didn't." I stepped very close to her. She didn't move back, her eyes wide with uncertainty, but also with a touch of excitement. An excitement that I saw grew stronger with each passing moment.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. My hands ran down her back, hiking her skirt up around her waist. She was wearing panties that were no more than a scrap of lace. I gripped the roundness of her ass and yanked her hard to me, even as my mouth locked onto hers. I felt more than heard her moan as she felt the strength of my arms and the hardness of my body. I rubbed my midsection against her and her eyes opened wide as she felt the hardness of the strapon concealed in my slacks.

There was a moment when she tried to break free. Her hands scrabbled at my shoulders, trying feebly to push me away. I thrust against her, my tongue driving into her mouth and my strong fingers digging into the softness of her ass. Then it was too late for her and she surrendered, rubbing her generous body against me and accepting my kiss.

I unfastened the top of her sundress and pushed it down her body, allowing just enough room . Her generous breasts feel free, unrestrained by a bra. I hooked her panties with my fingertips as they pushed the bright cotton material over her hips and down her legs. I took a step backwards, kissing her again. She stepped forward and out of the puddle her dress and panties had made at her feet.

I kissed her again and again until she was panting from the passion of the moment. I rested my hands on her shoulders and pushed down gently, looking in her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly went to her knees. I felt her hands fumble at the front of my slacks.

"Just unzip them," I whispered

She did, reached inside and tugged. Freed, my strapon popped from the fly. I smiled, thinking of the picture I made. The latex cock was the color sometimes referred to as "flesh". I used to have a black dildo, but I don't want anyone to mistake me for a male, or think I want to be one. I may be butch, but I'm a woman. The cock stood out from my body, thick and long and my soccer mom could not tear her eyes from it.

"Suck it."

She licked her lips and then ran her tongue over the full, mushroom shaped head. The slit on the tip was real, concealing a channel leading to a surprise I planed to give her later. Tempted as I was to reveal the secret now, I restrained myself. I put one hand on her golden curls and pushed her open mouth onto my cock.

Maybe not surprisingly, she could suck some strapon. I find that generally married women are the best at that. I watched her lips slide down the latex shaft and her cheeks hollow as she inhaled. The base pressed back into me, the knurled part of it rubbing my already throbbing clit. Holding her head firmly, I began to pump my hips, seeing how much of the eight inches she could take. After all, other than the pressure back onto me from the base, the most stimulating part of having someone perform oral on my strapon is the sight of her doing it.

To my distinct pleasure, she could take all of it. Her nose touched me and she never gagged, even when I thrust forcefully down her throat. Once again, as my pleasure rose, I was tempted to give her the surprise. But I didn't. I wanted to use it elsewhere. And right now I wanted to fuck her. I stepped back, pulling the dildo free with an audible "plop". She started to protest and then fell silent.

"Get on your hands and knees," I told her. Her gaze still riveted on the dildo bobbing in front of me, she complied. Standing in front of her, I watched her heavy breasts wobble, the more so because her breath was coming in short, fast gulps. I walked around her and her head twisted as she followed my movements as long as she could. Then I was behind her and knelt between her legs in the sand.

I ran my hands along her back. Leaning forward I began to massage her shoulders. She relaxed a bit, only to stiffen up as the head of the cock pressed against her leg. Still wet with her saliva, it slid along the inside of her thigh, equally damp from the juices already flowing from her pussy, until I felt her gasp as it parted her labia. I took the shaft in my hand and rubbed it against her, positioning it.

Pardon me, but this is the part I really glory in. I'm about to fuck not just a "straight" woman, but a married one. I can't resist leaning over her nude body while I'm still fully dressed. There's no doubt who is in charge, but I want to rub it in.

"What do you want?" I whisper in her ear.

"Please," she moaned back.

"Please? That's not an answer." I pressed slightly with my hips, lodging the very tip of the cock head inside her. "What do you want me to do?" I grasp her hips, preventing her from pushing back onto the dildo.

"Fuck me,' she managed to gasp in a strangled gasp. "Fuck me now."

She asked, I answered. Retaining my grip on her padded hips, I thrust forward, pulling her back at the same time. In one long smooth motion I buried the length of the strapon into her.

She muffled a cry. I held deep inside her, moving my hips around, allowing the shaft to wiggle around in her pussy. The pressure against me felt good. I looked at where my ebony body met her white one and began to slowly pump in and out of her. My hands itched to spank the full ass cheeks they were gripping but I restrained myself. No leaving marks on someone who was involved, be they straight or gay, married, involved or partnered.

Instead, I concentrated on the way her ass jiggled in the moonlight with each thrust. I ran my hands under her. I leaned over her and cupped those generous breasts dangling under her. The nipples were hard against my palms and I squeezed them carefully.

The blonde under me was rocking back to meet me. "More," she whispered.

Never let it be said I leave a request like that unanswered. I began to speed up. My thighs were braced against hers and I was plunging in and out her. I tried to go deeper each time, until I was grinding myself against her, using short hard jabs of my hips to fuck her, and to fuck myself. I was building quickly to an orgasm, and from the sounds coming from her, she was doing the same.

Now I had a firm hold of her hips again and was really sticking it to her. The slapping sounds our bodies were making together added to the excitement. I didn't know if she had ever been fucked by another woman and I didn't care. All I cared about is that I was fucking her now.

She whimpered. She cried out, and didn't muffle it very well. I drove into her again and reached down to the balls attached to the base of the dildo. I squeezed them and filled her with the concoction of lotions I had bought from the shop where I purchased the strapon.

She reared in surprise, as I expected she would, even as she came. I was exploding too, but still in the grip of the frenzy that seizes me at times. I pulled the spurting dildo from her pussy and dribbled the ersatz cum on her ass.

Her head slumped to the blanket. My hands held her ass up in the air. I looked at the dark puckered hole winking up at me, already wet from the fluid dripping from my cock. I took the latex cock in hand and pressed the head against her.

"No, wait, I've never done that before."

"Really?" I'm sure the astonishment I felt came out in my single word answer.

"No, please."

"You've never let your husband fuck you in the ass?" I was floored. I often take my lovers in the ass. I enjoy the feeling of control it gives me, the feeling that she is surrendering.

"No, never," she replied.

I shrugged, leaned over, caught up a hand towel and gave it to her.

"What's this for?"

"You might want to use this to smother any squeals." With that I pushed the dripping head against her and began to slowly lean forward. I firmly grasped her hips, allowing my weight to gently stretch her anal ring.

I had to be careful. By no means am I a rapist. If she demanded that I stop, I would. I hoped she wouldn't. I could already feel her anal ring beginning to give way. My hands roamed over the fullness of her ass. She tensed for a moment and I stopped pressing. Then her head lowered to the blanket and a sigh of acceptance reached my ears.

As much as I wanted to pound the latex cock into her, I took my time. Inch by inch the dildo disappeared into her stretched opening until I rested against the smoothness of her ass. I gripped her hips and began to slowly rock.

At first I merely moved the cock around inside her. Then, as she relaxed even more, I began to pump, in short little strokes of my hips. Each time I pressed against her the base rocked back against me. My breathing grew faster and so did the jabs I was giving her. Each time I drew back a bit further and each time it seemed like she was lifting her ass higher in the air to offer it to me.

Then I felt her beginning to push back each time I thrust into her. Her head was off the blanket and she was bracing her arms to accept the girlcock and give it back into me. I heard grunting, and realized it was both of us. I was going hard now, slapping up against that cute ass with every stroke and she was giving it back to me so hard it was about to drive the base of the strapon completely inside me.

I was seriously fucking her now, and she was seriously fucking me back. Twice my hands started to smack those wobbling ass cheeks and twice I reined myself in. No matter how much I wanted to spank her, I have that rule. You NEVER leave marks on someone who is involved with someone else. I don't care if they are straight or bi or as queer as me, whether they have a husband, a wife (yes, you can do that where I live), a Significant Other or whatever. And then I was arching to drive the shaft of the strapon all the way into the farthest reaches of that tight, no-longer-virgin ass and she was smothering screams of pleasure into that handy little towel. I squeezed one more time on the balls and emptied the rest of the liquid into her. After all, why not give her the full experience?

She crumbled under me and I crumbled on top of her. We rested long enough to get our breath back. Then I gently pulled up and back, removing the once more dripping dildo from her ass. I gathered her up into my arms and held her tightly before kissing her gently on her forehead, both eyes and then her mouth. She rested in my embrace for several minutes before her eyes popped open.

"Oh God, what time is it?" I held up my arm and she gasped when she was the time. With barely another word she hastily threw her sundress and panties back on, picked up her flip-flops and started to leave. She stopped and turned to me.

"I, I, I don't know what to say," she stammered.

I smiled and leaned back on my hands. "Then don't say anything. It was fun and now its over."

She nodded and scampered off to pick up her kids or whatever she needed to do. I had thought about slipping one of my business cards in her dress but had decided not to do that. I don't need complications. Besides, she would remember me. I grinned. And her husband wouldn't know why, but I bet he would be thanking somebody when she finally offered him what I had opened for the first time.