The New Neighborhood

"Another dose of Philosophie a la Brenda?" I quipped.

"I guess so," She said proudly, "Just makes sense to me."

I was mesmerized by the blow by blow (pardon the pun) description Brenda was relating. She was becoming excited just talking about it. As we sat across the table from each other, still in the nude, I could see beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her eyes were staring off into space, lost in her erotic world of fellatio. She was squirming in her seat and her breathing had become rapid, her large breasts rising and falling with each pant. Her beautiful nipples were rock hard again, unconsciously begging for attention. I wanted to run to her, clamp my mouth around a nipple and just suck her tits, but I forced myself to resist. I wanted to hear more.

"That's incredible," I said in amazement, "You actually count the number of times a man squirts?"

"Yea, I always have," she giggled, "I don't know why, I just do."

"And you say every guy tastes different?" I questioned.

She answered as if she were tutoring me, "Yea, some are sweeter. Some are saltier. Some cum is really thick and creamy, some is thin and milky, but it's all incredibly delightful. I've wondered myself why each guy tastes different. I have a theory about that."

"Oh, do tell," I teased, "Einstein, Eat your heart out."

"I wonder if the taste of a man's cum is affected by what he eats. I have this fantasy about taking fifty or sixty guys, putting each of them on a strict diet, and sucking them all off every day. I would take copious notes and observe how the taste of each guy's cum changes with a corresponding change in his diet. I wonder if I could get a government grant for that."

"Hey, the government spends billions of dollars on stuff a lot sillier than that," I assured her.

"Get paid by the government to be a cock sucker. What a country!" Brenda drawled, doing her best impression of Russian comedian, Yakov Smirnoff.

"So you think you could give a blow job to sixty guys a day?" I asked skeptically, "You ever tried it?"

"Not sixty," She confirmed my suspicions, "But I once did thirty-one, and I could have easily sucked off that many more. Hell, I do twenty or more a couple of times a month."

"No way!" I was becoming more doubtful now.

"Way!" She shot back. "There's this guy over on Lesson Street, off North Kermit, who runs this adult video store. They have videos to buy or rent. They have a couple of big screen movies playing all the time. They sell toys -- you know, dildos and stuff, and they have these little private booths that play video loops. You put a dollar in the slot and the video runs for a few minutes. Then you put in another dollar if you want to see some more. Well the guy who runs the place lets me come in whenever I want and take over the last booth, the one by the back door. There's a hole in the wall between the last booth and the one right next to it. They call it a glory hole."

"I know what a glory hole is," I interrupted, "I'm not totally stupid."

"Hey, I didn't know," She apologized. "Anyway, the guy lets all the men in the store know that I'm back there and if anybody wants a blow job from a woman, it's free. So the guys come in the other booth and stick their cocks through the hole and I suck them off. It's good for everybody. Eddie says it's good for business, the guys all get a good blow job, and I get to taste a lot of cum."

"How do you know who's on the other end?" I was curious.

"That's the beauty of it," Brenda clarified, "I don't. I don't want to know. It's not about the guy. It's only about the dick and the cum. I don't know him. He doesn't know me. He just knows he's getting one helluva blow job. While I'm sucking one dick, I'm already anticipating what the next dick will be like. I never know what's next. It may be long or short, fat or skinny, white or black, circumcised or natural. A dick comes through the hole. I put it in my mouth. I suck it. It shoots cum in my mouth. I swallow. It's gone. Another dick appears. Simple as that. It's really cool. You should come with me sometime. As a matter of fact, I'm going next week on Thursday. Wanna go?"

I declined the invitation, "I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself," She said with some disappointment.

"Anyway my son, David is coming in from The University of Tennessee Friday. He'll be here for a week so I guess I'll be spending most of my time with him," I explained.

"Jason's driving up from LSU too, but he'll spend most of his time with his old high school friends, so I won't see much of him anyway," She said sadly.

Brenda had become so aroused now from talking about her escapades at the video store, it was obvious she needed some relief. I picked up a spoon to stir my coffee a little and promptly dropped it on the floor. As I reached under the table to retrieve the spoon, I looked over at Brenda. She was sitting with her legs spread apart, her large pussy agape and sopping wet. A small puddle of pussy juice had collected on the floor underneath her chair. I crawled on my hands and knees under the table to her. I reached around her hips and grabbed the back of her buttocks, gently pulling her toward the front edge of the chair. Her ass slid easily on the wet seat, coated with her pussy lube. I pushed her knees a little farther apart, and dove back in to that now familiar pussy, licking and sucking and slurping the nectar I had come to love. We played in the kitchen for an hour or so before I left to go home.

* * *

Wednesday morning I arose early. Fred is usually in the shower by the time I get up, but I was up before him this morning. This morning was different. I took a long shower, shaved my legs and underarms, and after a dainty drop of Ombre Rose on each wrist I felt pretty. I had the coffee made for Fred when he got up. He stumbled into the kitchen in his bathrobe, poured himself a cup, and opened the paper to the sports section.

"Shit," Fred bellowed in disgust, "The Reds dropped another one. That's three in a row to the Cubs -- the fucking Cubs! Nobody loses three in a row to the Cubs."

Fred still longed for the return of the glory days of the Cincinnati Reds -- the days of Johnny Bench and Pete Rose and Foster, Morgan and Griffey. Whenever Fred has too much to drink, he starts talking about, "The Big Red Machine," And how their 1975 world series against the Red Sox was the greatest series ever. I've heard the play by play a hundred times.

After a long sigh, he shook his head he poured a second cup muttering, "Fucking Cubs," Under his breath. While the coffee cooled he headed off to the bathroom. After a quick shower, Fred quickly drank his coffee and went to the bedroom to dress for work. While Fred was dressing I removed my bathrobe and my nightgown and moved to couch in the living room. Fred came through the living room on his way out the door and saw me sitting on the couch. I was naked sitting with my legs spread wide apart. I had my hands underneath both my breasts, pushing them up toward my mouth. I was taking turns licking and sucking first one nipple, then the other. I knew Fred couldn't resist that. He always said the sexiest thing in the world is watching a woman suck her own titties. Whenever I wanted him that was all I had to do and he was putty in my hands. When he spied me, he knew what I wanted.

"A little horny this morning, are we?" He teased.

"Yes I am," I stated the obvious, "After all it's been a while. Maybe this will make up for the Reds losing three in a row."

"Fucking Cubs," He repeated, "Wanna go back to bed? I'd really love a blow job"

"No," I replied impatiently, "I want you to fuck me. Give it to me right here. Just like this - right where I'm sitting. You don't even have to take your pants off. Just pull them down, get on your knees and fuck me good. I want to feel that dick of yours inside me, and I want you to pump me full of your cum."

"Damned," He said rhetorically, "You are a horny little piece this morning, aren't you?"

Fred unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. He got on his knees in front of me and aimed his already hard dick at my waiting pussy. His dick is long and thin. He has about eight inches, but it's only one inch across, with the head just slightly larger than the shaft. I stuck a nipple in my mouth and Fred found the opening to my pussy and slowly slid his dick inside me. I closed my eyes and let Fred work his dick in and out of me, penetrating a little deeper with each slow, methodical stroke until his entire length was buried in my pussy. He then began a method he calls, "Long Dicking." He would pull his dick back until it was just outside my pussy, then shove it back in all the way with one long stroke. While my husband was busy with his long dicking, my eyes were still closed and my thoughts were of Brenda. With my eyes closed, I imagined it was Brenda at the other end of the dick now sliding in and out of me. A few minutes later Fred's strokes became faster and shorter. I knew he was close to getting his nut. I opened my eyes and looked at Fred.

"Oh, Baby, I want your cum. Give me all your cum. Shoot all your hot cum deep in my pussy." I said it almost unconsciously. Fred looked surprised to hear me talk this way. I would usually say something innocuous, like, "Yea, Baby. You feel so good."

I shoved my breasts up and pushed them together so the two nipples touched each other. I stuck my tongue between them, licking both nipples at once. I felt the dick inside me jerk a couple of times. I wrapped my legs around my husband's waist and dug my heels into his buttocks, driving every last centimeter of his dick inside me. Suddenly I felt the first scalding blast of semen erupt into me. One, two, three, four, five, six -- "I'll be damned," I thought, "My husband is a six-shooter."

"Wow!" Fred exclaimed, "That was different. I never heard you talk like that before."

"I guess I just got carried away by the way you were doing it," I lied, remembering what Brenda said about men's egos.

He bought the excuse. "I think I kind of like it," He approved.

"Thanks, Baby," I said gratefully, "That was wonderful, but you'd better get going or you'll be late for work."

Glancing at his wristwatch, Fred grimaced, saying, "Yea, I gotta go. I've got a meeting at seven-thirty." He gave me a little peck on the cheek. "See ya later."

As soon as I heard Fred back out of the driveway, I threw on my bathrobe, slid my feet into my flip-flops and headed out the back door toward Brenda's house. The grass was wet from the morning dew. I had to walk gingerly to keep my flip-flops from sliding. I could feel my husbands cum leaking from my pussy and running down the inside of my thighs. I quickly opened Brenda's patio door and leaving my wet shoes outside, made my way back to the workout room. Brenda was lying on the bench press taking a breather, her abundant breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her feet were on the floor with her legs apart, her cavernous pussy wide open staring at me, beckoning me to come have a taste.

"You're late," Brenda admonished, looking toward the clock, which corroborated her statement by displaying 6:51 AM in bright red numerals.

"Sorry," I apologized, "I brought you a surprise."

"What?" She asked with a big smile as she started to pull herself up.

"No, don't get up," I commanded. I tossed the bathrobe on the floor and walked to her. I bent over, giving Brenda a quick kiss on the lips. I threw one leg over her as she lay on the bench as if I were mounting a horse. Holding on to the weight bar while straddling her face, I slowly lowered my leaking pussy down to her mouth.

"Mmmmm, cum," She mumbled with the same approval one might voice after the first bite of a melt-in-your-mouth filet mignon. She attacked my pussy with her hungry mouth, licking, sucking, and slurping noisily, seeking out the precious drops of cum I knew she craved. I pushed on my belly with my right hand trying to coax more of the pearly white liquid trapped inside me into Brenda's eager mouth. After about five minutes she stopped - another satisfying, "Mmmmm," her only critique. I dismounted and she sat up. Her eyes were like glass, as if she were in a trance. I sat beside her on the bench and she leaned into me as our lips met. Our mouths opened and I pushed my tongue in to her mouth, only to be greeted with a generous portion of the sweet and salty nectar Brenda had reserved to share with me.

Suddenly the irony of it all hit me. My husband wanted me to suck him off this morning, but I said, "No." Yet here I was eating his cum from another woman's mouth. We played with my husband's juices for awhile, our mouths still locked together. Then we broke the kiss and both swallowed our respective rations.

"That was wonderful," Brenda beamed, her mouth still covered in sticky wetness compliments of the Trainor family, "How'd you manage to pull that one off/"

"Oh, Fred's easy," I explained, "All I have to do is get naked and stick one of my nipples in my mouth. After that, Fred's a puppet on a string. I just wanted to do something special for you."

"Thanks, I loved it," She cooed.

"Funny thing though," I told Brenda, "The whole time Fred was fucking me, I had my eyes closed and I was fantasizing that it was you fucking me instead. I mean I could see your face, your hair, your eyes, your breasts, your body. The strange thing was that instead of that beautiful pussy of yours, you had a dick, and you were fucking it in and out of me. Pretty weird, huh?"

"I don't know so much about that," She dissented, "I think it's sweet. I mean here you are, fucking your old man and thinking about me -- it's actually very flattering. Did you enjoy seeing me with a dick instead of a pussy?"

"Oh, hell yes," I confirmed, "I mean I love everything about your pussy. You know that. I guess it's just that since I was being fucked anyway, I wanted it to be you inside me. It was comical, but it was so sexy, imagining you, your big tits swinging back and forth and your body so feminine, yet this big cock hanging between your legs, you know, kinda like one of those transsexual people" I felt a twitch in my pussy. "Damn, I'm getting horny just seeing it in my mind again."

Brenda excused herself, saying she had to go pee. A few minutes later, she returned wearing this very tight pair of hot pink, leather briefs with a 10" rubber dick sticking out the front. She grabbed the shaft of the fake dick with her right hand and shook it at me. "Did I look something like this?"

"Oh my God," I squealed with surprise, "Where the hell did you get that thing?"

"I got a bunch of them," She answered, "All sizes."

It took a moment for the shock to wear off. Then I figured I'd play along. "You wanna fuck me with that thing, Sailor, or is it just for show?"

Brenda started walking toward me, still holding the newly donned cock in her hand. I put three fingers in my mouth and gathering up a sample of saliva, I rubbed it all over my pussy. As she approached I spread my legs wide apart and held my pussy open with my fingers. I was sure she would get on her knees in front of me and fuck me, but when she reached me, she silently held out her hand to me, looking into my eyes as if to say, "Trust me." I did. I placed my hand in hers and she gave a gentle squeeze. She pulled me up off the bench, and with my hand in hers, led me to her bedroom.

Brenda's bedroom was a throwback to the sixties. Directly over her bed hung a large, luminescent poster -- a print of the album cover of The Beatles, "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." Above the poster a florescent black light illuminated the bright colors. On another wall, hung posters of "The Jefferson Airplane", "Crosby, Stills and Nash," and "Cream". Other rock and roll memorabilia garnered display space around the room. A broken guitar that Brenda claimed Pete Townsend destroyed on-stage, a harmonica that once belonged to Bob Dylan, and the piece de resistance - two tickets to Woodstock in a small, glass case. The bedroom suite consisted of a dresser, a chest-of-drawers, and two nightstands, all heavy, red and black, Spanish style furniture. A lava lamp on one nightstand, changed colors from red, to blue, to green, to yellow, as white globules tediously rose and fell within. A king size, mahogany, four poster bed with an overstuffed mattress and bright red, satin sheets completed the ensemble.

As I quickly evaluated the room and my sudden journey into The Psychedelic Zone, I sarcastically asked Brenda, "What did you do, trade in the waterbed?"

"Yea," She retorted with an equal measure of sarcasm, "It made me seasick."

Brenda led me to the bed and I crawled in, laying my head on the large, cool, satiny pillow. She climbed in beside me, brushing my hair aside with her hand and finding my lips with hers for a long, passionate kiss. She rolled over on top of me, and with her hands on the bed by my shoulders, pushed her arms stiff. Her face was a foot or so above me, her breasts hanging down touching mine. I reached underneath her, taking the shaft of her pseudo-cock and placing the head at the entrance to my pussy, ready and willing to accept all she could give me. I spread my legs wide apart as I felt Brenda slowly begin to push. I could feel my pussy open willingly, letting the dick, which was twice the girth of my husband's, slip its burrowing head inside. As the two-inch head pierced the initial point of resistance, I flinched in a moment of pleasure-pain from the unfamiliar size.

Brenda stopped her entry. "You OK?" She asked.

"Yea, I'm fine," I assured her, "It's just a little bigger than I'm used to."

"I have a smaller one," She offered, "I don't want to hurt you."

"No," I insisted, "I want this one. I want to feel as much of you inside me as possible. Honest, I can take this one."

I had already forgotten that this really wasn't her invading me. It was a fake dick. It seemed like her. It felt like her. I so wanted it to be her. I placed my hands on her buttocks and pulled her ass toward me, forcing a little more of the shaft inside me. It was a little painful as my pussy was being stretched beyond its usual limits, but the pleasure of having Brenda inside me easily justified the pain. Anyway, I knew the stinging would subside as I became more acclimated to the size of the intruder. Brenda carefully eased her dick into me, watching my face for any sign of pain. When I flinched, she stopped pushing and lightly kissed me while stroking my hair, now wet with sweat. When Brenda had about half of the ten inch rod inside me, she stopped and retracted a couple of inches. She fucked two or three inches in and out of me for a few minutes, and I increasingly became comfortable with the size. The pain was all but gone now. What remained was sheer pleasure. For the first time since the initial assault, I could speak.

"Oh, Brenda, That feels wonderful," I whispered.

"Sure you're okay," She asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," I reassured her.

Her strokes became longer. She would pull out until only the head of the strap-on dick was inside me. Then she would glide forward, inching a little deeper with each slow push. When Brenda had eight inches inside, I braced myself for what was sure to be the return of the pain as her cock would be the deepest thing I had ever had in my pussy. Surprisingly, though, my pussy welcomed the last two inches of her with only heightened enjoyment. Finally she pushed as hard as she could, burying the ten inch pole in me as she feverishly kissed me.

She broke the kiss and asked, "You still okay?"

"It's amazing," I purred, "Fuck me, Brenda. Fuck me with that beautiful cock of yours. Don't ever stop fucking me."

She started with long strokes, bringing the head of the dick just inside the entrance of my pussy, then slowly pushing until it was buried again. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked furiously. The nipple seemed to grow larger and harder than before and I heard Brenda moan with more pleasure the harder I sucked. Her long, slow strokes felt wonderful, but I wanted her to fuck me harder and faster. I wrapped my legs around her, locking my ankles behind her buttocks. When she pulled out I dug my heels into her butt cheeks, driving her beautiful pseudo-meat all the way back inside me hard and fast. After a few strokes like this, Brenda picked up the rhythm and began to fuck me forcefully, grunting aloud with every stroke and inhaling deeply with each retraction. Our bodies were both wet with perspiration and we slid against each other as if we were covered in oil. I was out of control now, grunting along with her, pushing my pelvis up to meet her hard, forceful strokes.