XXX Pure Porn Stories: Arlene

This story is XXX rated. Not only must you be older than 18-years-old to read my story but also, and this is tricky, you must be an immature adult.

Are you over 18-years-old?

Lean to the screen and nod your head in the affirmative or shake your head in the negative so that I can see if you are older than 18-years-old or if you're a minor and prohibited from reading my story. If you nodded your head in the affirmative, please stay. If you shook your head in the negative, please leave.

Now for the immature adult question. Are you an immature adult? I realize, of course, that not many mature adults read stories on Literotica but there is a reason for my question.

Knock once on your computer screen for yes that you're an immature adult and knock twice on your computer screen for no that you are a mature adult.

If you are an immature adult, please stay. If you are a mature adult, please leave.

Finally, for the immature adult test question. Ready? Okay, here goes.

If you happened upon a beautiful, sexy, drunken blonde with her clothes disheveled, with her tits and pussy exposed, and you were alone with her in a dark alley, what would you do? Would you have her blow you or would you call her a cab? Sorry but your answer can only be one or the other. You cannot have her blow you and then call her a cab after she swallows your cum.

Knock once on your computer screen for yes, that you'd have her blow you, and knock twice on your computer screen for no, that you'd call her a cab.

For those who knocked once on their computer screen, that you'd have her blow you, please stay. Without a doubt, you are an immature adult. I invite you to read my story.

For those of you who knocked twice on their computer screen to call her a cab, please leave. How dare you? What the Hell kind of degenerate are you? You're not wanted here. I cannot allow you to read my story. You're not depraved enough to read my story. How dare you pose as a pervert? You're an imposter,

"Go! Get out! Beat it! Scram! Hit the road! Get lost! Leave! Security!"

Now, for those of you who are still here. Good. You passed my immature adult test. You are indeed an immature adult, my kind of immature adult, a perverted, immature adult. Now leave your pants unzipped and let's read some porn.

Okay, now that we're alone with our bad selves, shall we begin?

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

"Oh, my God, Tommy. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt, Tommy. Fuck my cunt! That's it. Right there. Just like that. Oh, my God. Oh, my frigging God, I'm going to cum," said Irene, the wife of my friend's landlord.

As if I was in the room with them, I listened at my friend's front door.

"Don't stop fucking me! Fuck me harder, Tommy. Fuck me faster. I'm going to cum," said Irene. "I'm going to cum!"

Vito and everyone else in the neighborhood heard them fucking all the way outside and up the stairs to Tommy's fourth floor walkup apartment. Vito waited until they were done and the landlord left before he knocked on Tommy's door. Tommy had a backdoor stair that his landlord used so that her husband wouldn't know she was fucking their tenant. Had her husband been home, she would have needed more than just a backdoor stair for her sexual rendezvous to go undetected. She'd need for Tommy to have a soundproof apartment.

"I heard Mrs. Murphy all the way outside," said Vito with a laugh. "What was all that about?"

Tommy shrug.

"I'm a little short on my rent this month," said Tommy.

Vito reached in his pocket and pulled out some cash.

"You were short last month and the month before, if I remember," said Vito. "I have thirty bucks," said Vito. "How short on your rent are you?"

Tommy smiled at his best friend.

"All of it," said Tommy with a laugh.

Vito looked at his friend as if he was deranged.

"All of it? You can't pay your rent? What are you going to do, Tommy?"

Tommy gave Vito a shit eating grin.

"Don't worry, just as I did last month and the month before, I just gave Irene the fucking of her life. I'm covered until next month," he said.

Vito shook his head in disbelief.

"God you're such a dirty dog. Have you no morals? Have you no scruples? She's a married woman with kids," said Vito. "She's older than my mother. What is she forty-five?"

Tommy flopped himself on the living room couch.

"I dunno. She's about that age, maybe, a little older or a little older, I guess. I really don't know how old she is nor do I care. As long as they have tits to fondle, pussies to fuck, and mouths to suck, no matter if they're young old, beautiful or ugly, women are women to me. Besides, in the way that men always do, women don't freely volunteer their age or weight," said Tommy with a laugh.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Tommy is my childhood friend. We met when he stepped in to fight a bigger and older kid who always picked on me. Back then, before he grew older and developed all sorts of physical ailments from drinking too much and fucking too much, he was as virile as he was Irish and as he was handsome. His whole family was good looking, his brother, Michael, his sister, Colleen, and even his mother Maureen was a MILF. His Dad, an abusive drunk was no longer in the picture but I saw photos of him and he was handsome too.

Just the opposite, I wasn't very good looking. I come from a whole family of not very good looking people. An unpopular kid, I was a second generation Italian-American. My name is Vito.

The only Italian family in an Irish neighborhood, if it wasn't for Tommy, I'd be beaten to death. My saving grace and my claim to fame was the Godfather movies made popular when I was a teenager. After Mario Puzo wrote the Godfather book and Francis Ford Coppola directed the Godfather movies, the kids in the neighborhood embraced me and called me Don Vito. Only, I was no Mafia Don. They called me Don Vito not out of respect but as a joke. I was their Irish joke and with the joke on me, I was their Italian joke.

If I was anything at all, I was short and fat. I was Ratso Rizzo, played by Dustin Hoffman and my friend, Tommy, was Joe Buck, played by John Voight in the Midnight Cowboy. God, that was such a good movie. God, that was such a long ago, 1969.

More than forty-five years ago, I was 19-years-old. Where did the time go? It seems like yesterday when I turned 30-years-old, 40-years-old, 50-years-old, and now that I'm over 60-years-old, my life is nearly over.

'Sad, so sad,' I thought while thinking what the Hell have I done with my life?

With him wearing his engineer boots and me wearing my pointy toed shoes with Cuban heels, we couldn't be more opposite. A time before Nike, Reebok, and Adidas, they didn't have sneakers in the way they do today. They didn't have a lot of things then that they do now. They didn't have computers, cellphones, video games, terrorism, terrorists, airport security, and fast food restaurants and Starbucks on every corner.

What they had were smoking and hard liquor commercials instead of prescription drug commercials. What they had in the sixties was Vietnam, free sex, and whores. They always had whores and until the world ends, there will always be whores.

Some whores look like whores and dress like whores while other whores pretend that they're modestly moral and happily married wives and not whores when they are. According to Tommy, all women are whores, even Nuns. Even Nuns love sucking and fucking priests' cocks. Fortunately for whores, whether obvious whores, hidden whores, single whores, or married whores, with whores just whores, Tommy was a whoremonger and man's gift to whores.

In the way he starred in the 1975 movie Shampoo with Julie Christie, Goldie Hawn, and Lee Grant, Tommy was the Warren Beatty of the neighborhood. Flitting from this woman to flirt with that woman, he was so handsome. He was so cool. He was Fonzi on steroids. With him leaving one woman to have sex with another woman, he was a chick magnet. Old, young, short, fat, tall, thin, ugly, and/or beautiful, they all wanted him and he was willing to fuck them, lick them, and allow them all to suck him.

He didn't have a job. He never held a job more than a week or two. Women gave him money to keep him around. Women paid his bills and gave him cash for him to be at their beck and call. Only, the more women he seduced and the more women he took money from the harder it was to keep their appointments straight and their sexual needs satisfied.

He enjoyed bragging that he could bang any chick and I believed him because he could and he did. With him three years older than me, by the time he was 22-years-old, he was already working on his second, little, black book. Me? Not so lucky. At 19-years-old, I was a virgin. The closest I came to having sex was feeling Maria's tits inside of her dress and bra after the senior prom.

To say that I lived vicariously through Tommy was an understatement. Admittedly, lustfully, and enthusiastically, I enjoyed him telling me all of the intimate details of his sexual exploits so that I could masturbate myself later that night. With me filled with testosterone, to say that I was always masturbating was a huge understatement. With me always trying to beat it, my masturbation record was five times in a day.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

It all started innocently one day when we were at the mall. There was this sexy, beautiful redhead. She was as shapely as she was tall. She looked like a model. She looked like a movie star. She looked like Lucille Ball in her heyday.

As soon as I saw how she filled out her skirt from behind, I bet Tommy ten bucks that he couldn't seduce her. I bet him that he couldn't get his hand in her panties and his cock in her mouth. Only, with Tommy my sexual hero, I knew he somehow could. Rooting for him to fuck her, I'd like nothing more than for him to tell me all of the sexy details later that day.

"Hey, Tommy. Look at that knockout over there," I said pointing to her. With her back to us, she didn't see me pointing. "I bet you ten bucks you can't get to first base with her."

He shot me his wanna bet look. With him having a reputation with the women to uphold, I knew he wouldn't say no to my wager. He accepted my bet and I watched him do his dirty work from a store doorway across the way. Being that he was across the mall, I couldn't hear what they were saying. He called me later that night to tell me he got lucky. Not surprised, I knew he would.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

"Hello?"

Typical Tommy, as soon as I picked up the phone, he started laughing.

"You owe me ten bucks, Vito," he said.

My cock twitched with the erotic anticipation that he'd be filling my head with the details of his sexual conquest soon. Just as Don Quixote was Dulcinea's unintended and unwanted hero in Cervantes book, Tommy was my Don Quixote and I was his Sancho Panza. He was my Batman and I was his sidekick, Robin. In awe of him, he was my Superman and I was Jimmy Olson.

"Are you shittin' me? You banged her? I don't believe it. I don't believe you."

He laughed again. He was always laughing at me. When I told him that he was always laughing at me, he told me that he wasn't laughing at me but laughing with me. Only, I wasn't laughing. I was in admiration of him. Just for one day, one hour, I wished I were him.

"I did," he said.

Never expecting him to do so, expecting him to fail, I couldn't believe he banged this beautiful, sexy redhead. She was the hottest woman I had ever seen. With women who look like her so rare, I just don't see a woman who looks like her.

"Damn. How old was she? Twenty-five? She was definitely older than you."

Eager to masturbate myself, I started rubbing my cock through my jeans.

"She's 29-years-old," he said.

I couldn't imagine him having sex with a woman who was seven years older than him and ten years older than me. Imagining her name being Erin, or Kaitlyn, or Kathleen, I asked the question.

"What's her name?"

I needed to know her name to better imagine having sex with her when my hand was around my cock later tonight.

"Arlene. Her name is Arlene," he said. "I've never banged anyone named Arlene before," he said with a laugh. "I looked it up online. It's an Irish name. Obviously, with her red hair and freckles, she's Irish," he said laughing again.

'Bastard,' I thought. 'He's such a lucky bastard. I would have given my right arm to have sex with someone who was as hot as she was. I would have given my right arm to have sex with anyone. Only, with me an inexperienced, sexual virgin, if offered sex, I wouldn't know the first thing to do.'

"Wow you had sex with a woman older than my older sister," I said impressed while forgetting that he had sex with his landlord who was even older than my mother. "So tell me everything."

With my imagination going wild, I imagined Tommy undressing Arlene. I imagined Arlene in her bra and panties. With her having big tits, I imagined Arlene topless. With her so sexy and so shapely, I imagined Arlene naked. Something that women didn't do back then, trim their pussies, I imagined Arlene's red, bushy pussy. I imagined her round, firm, naked ass. I so envied my friend. I so wish I was him.

"Well, you saw me. Something that most guys don't do, unless they're making a rude or inappropriate comment, I just walked up next to her and started talking to her at the mall," he said.

Not allowing him to brush me off without telling me what he said, I asked him.

"What did you say?"

He sighed as if he was already bored having to recap his sexual escapade when I was so sexually excited by the prospect of listening to his sexual victory. Yet, as if he was the king defeating someone else's castle to claim the beautiful princess or the queen, I knew that it sexually excited him to tell me all that happened. Besides, how else could he add to his sexual legend if he didn't tell me all of the sexual details of his conquests?

"She was looking at a blue blouse in the store window and when she turned to look at me and lit me up with her big, beautiful, blue eyes, I said that color would look great on you. With your beautiful, blue eyes, that's your color. Seemingly with that all she needed to hear, that was all that I needed to say," he said. "Just by the way she gushed, I knew I had her."

She looked at me and smiled.

"Wow," I said.

He made it sound so easy. He needed to write a book, "How to Seduce any Woman?"

"Did you know that it's easier to put the moves on a beautiful woman than it is to put the moves on an average looking or homely woman?"

I wondered if that was true and if it was, why it was true?

"No, I didn't know that," I said suddenly thinking that he was pulling my leg. "Why is that?"

He let out a smug, little laugh.

"Because men are nervous around beautiful women. Men are more confident putting the moves on women who aren't as attractive," said Tommy. "Do you ever wonder why a short, fat, average looking man always seem to have the most beautiful woman?"

I laughed this time.

"Because they have a lot of money?"

Tommy laughed.

"Yeah, there's that but below average looking men feel that they have nothing to lose," he said and what he said made sense. "Below average looking men take the shot where good looking men walk away. As if expecting the beautiful women to come to them, good looking men obviously feel that they don't even have to try when, indeed, they do because women don't like men who are too full of themselves."

"So, tell me more about Arlene," I said wanting to him about him having sex with that gorgeous redhead. "What happened next?"

A game he needed to play, he sighed as if he was bored.

"She said, would you like to go somewhere more private...to talk? We walked out to her car."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I knew my friend was good with the ladies but I didn't know he was that good. Damn. I couldn't believe she asked him to go somewhere more private. Then, I realized what just happened.

"Wait. Hold on. She picked you up?"

Knowing his body language as well as my own, I could see him shrug over the telephone without even having to see him shrug in person.

"I guess," he said. "Once we were in her car talking, a new Corvette, she looked at me, leaned to me, and kissed me."

'Oh, my God, I'd do anything to kiss a woman who looked like Arlene. I'd do anything to go for a ride in a new Corvette. I'd do anything to be you,' I wanted to say but suddenly feeling pathetic, I didn't say any of those things.

"She kissed you? On the lips or on the cheek."

Obviously, her kissing him was no big deal to him.

"Duh," he said. "She stuck her tongue down my throat while squeezing the top of my thigh."

Fuck me. She kissed him. Arlene French kissed him. With me having only French kissed one woman before, Maria, French kissing a woman, especially an older woman was a big deal to me. With him just having met the woman, I couldn't believe she picked him up, French kissed him, and she left with him to do God knows what, probably to suck and fuck him. Imagining them having hot sex in her sporty car, I erased that thought from my mind when I thought that Arlene was too classy of a lady for sweaty, groping sex in a car, especially in such a small car as a Corvette.

"And then what happened?"

I held my breath while imagining all the different places she'd take him. Perhaps parking somewhere, maybe she'd take him to the beach, to a seedy motel room, or to a luxury hotel suite, there were any number of places that they could go. With the 2,000-year-old Kama Sutra book popular back then and with the sexual revolution of the sixties in full swing, I imagined all of the sexual positions he'd try.

"She took me back to her place. She lives in a high-rise condo by the beach," he said. "You should have seen this place. She lives on the 16th floor. She said her Daddy bought her the condo but I don't think it was her father," he said with a dirty laugh. "With her having a brand new Corvette and not having a job, I think her Sugar Daddy bought her the place."

Imagining more than he was telling me, I could see the ocean. I could smell the sea. I could hear the seagulls in the distance while Tommy was fucking Arlene. Imagining Arlene naked, I could feel her big tits and even smell the musky aroma of her pussy in my horny mind.

"Wow," I said.

He laughed.

"I could tell she was living there with a much older man by taking a peek in his medicine chest. He had lots of medication, BenGay, and Old Spice cologne," he said with another laugh. "I'm sure none of those things belonged to her."

As if he had just scratched my LP record, forget about the other guy being her Sugar Daddy, I wanted to know what happened with Tommy.

"Forget about the man she's living with, get to the good part. Tell me what happened. Did you bang her?"

He laughed again and this time I couldn't help but feel that he was laughing at me. He was always laughing at me and making jokes at my expense but he was my friend, my best friend, and I loved him as if he was my brother. Him laughing at me was acceptable than if it was someone else laughing at me. I was used to him laughing at me. Him thinking that he was laughing with me was because sometimes I laughed at myself in nervousness that he was laughing at me.

"Did I bang her?" He laughed a laugh that told me he had. "Of course I banged her," he said.

Already a living legend, Tommy raised himself to super, sexual hero in having sex with this broad.

"Tell me. Tell me everything," I said.

He sighed as if he was bored when I knew he wasn't.

"She offered me a drink while she changed into something more comfortable. She asked me if I was a landscaper or a construction worker. I could tell that she had a thing for both, so I lied," he said with a laugh. "I told her I was in construction and did landscaping on the side," he said laughing. "She seemed turned on by that."