Contracting my pussy muscles on your dick, I squeeze it hard as she gets the chair and sits down in front of us and begins to suck on my pussy and lick your dick while I am riding it, tasting us both at the same time. She reaches up and rubs my nipples while she is sucking on us both. I continue to fuck you hard, and I can feel my cum trickling down the inside of my thighs, down between your thighs, and onto the tabletop.
You take your other hand and pull me back by my hair so that I am lying with my back on top of your chest, still riding your dick. You start palming my breasts while she continues to get her eat on, and we are all moaning. My pussy juice is everywhere. I want you to shoot your hot cum all down my throat, and I ask you, “Will you cum for me?” and she says, “I want some of it too!” You tell me, “Whatever you want, I will do.” So I get off your dick, and she and I both wait anxiously for you to give it to us. Your dick is throbbing, and veins are popping out of it everywhere. You look so yummy.
We both get on our knees as you stand up. We begin licking and sucking all over your dick. You stand, your knees feeling a little wobbly, and hang on to the side of the table. I take the base of your dick in my hand and begin to squeeze it gently. You grab both of our heads and begin pumping your dick into our mouths fast and furiously. As I take your balls into my mouth and bounce them on my tongue, you tell us, “I’m about to cum!” We can hardly wait. It starts to shoot out, and we both take some of it with our tongues and place some on our fingertips, rubbing it all over each other’s breasts and faces, both of us smiling with delight. I whisper, “Hmmm, you taste so good, boo.”
I get greedy, and I take your whole dick into my mouth, trying to get every last drop and contracting my cheek muscles around your dick, making all of it come out into my mouth as I arch my neck so your dick can hit my tonsils. You tremble as the last of it goes down my throat, but I continue to suck ’cause I want to get you hard again so you can fuck me in the ass before we leave. I tell you, “I want you to take all this ass right here!” She interjects and says, “We have to finish up before someone gets suspicious.”
We all laugh as we get dressed. She finishes first and gives us both a smooch on the lips before she leaves, saying, “Thanks for the afternoon snack!” We leave and go to the baggage claim, where my bags have been spinning around on the belt for the last half hour or so. We go out to the car and you seat me in it while you put my baggage into the trunk. I sit in the car, waiting for you patiently, fingering my own pussy and then sucking my juices off my fingers. My pussy is so wet. After you get in and proceed to the exit gate, I take my free hand and rub it up and down your thigh, then to your crotch, and start to undo your zipper.
You reach in the backseat and hand me the card and box of chocolate-covered cherries you bought for me because you missed me so much. After we clear the exit gate, I continue to caress your dick and balls with one hand as you finger my pussy. I put one of my feet up on the dashboard so that my leg is up in the air and you can get to my pussy better. I roll down the window so that the cool breeze can blow through my hair and hit up against my legs and pussy as we hit the highway.
I want you to fuck me again, but I know I have to wait until we get home, or at least until we get off the highway, because I know how you like to make sudden stops. I decide to open the box of cherries instead, and one at a time, I put them in my pussy, drowning them with my juices, and then begin feeding them to you with my fingers. Needless to say, we pull off at the first rest area we come to. And there, on the hood of yo
ur car, you give me what I crave and fuck me in my ass just the way I love it.
The Diary
It had been a long time since I visited my grandparents, and I was excited about spending a couple of days with them for Thanksgiving. When I got off the plane, both of them were waiting for me. With the exception of a few added wrinkles on their faces, they looked exactly like they did when I was a child.
They drove me back to the big country manor where my mother and her three sisters grew up. Once I threw my bags in the bedroom where I would be staying, the one that belonged to my mother as a child, I went down to the kitchen to help Grandma stuff the turkey and bake pies for dinner the next day.
Thanksgiving dinner was going to be great because I would get to see my aunts, their husbands, and all of my cousins. My parents were traveling in Europe, so they were going to have to miss it.
After we finished preparing everything, my grandparents and I sat in the living room by the fire and talked about the good old days. Grandpa surprised me by having a pizza delivered. I had never even pictured my grandparents eating something that wasn’t homemade, much less pizza. Times had really, really changed. There was no denying that.
One thing had remained the same, however, and that was how early they went to bed every night. By 9 P.M., they were both calling the hogs, since they got up around 5 A.M. every morning. They had retired years before but still rose early by force of habit.
I flipped through the channels of the old floor-model television in the living room, the only television in the entire house. They didn’t have cable. There were a few sitcoms on, but none of them interested me. I looked through the bookcase in my grandpa’s study, hoping to find something interesting to read. All his books were about carpentry, farming, fly-fishing, landscaping, home repair, and things of that nature, so I quickly gave up on the idea.
I quietly went upstairs to my mother’s bedroom, undressed, put on a white cotton nightgown, and tried to go ahead and fall asleep. There was no freaking way that was happening, because it was way too early for me.
I was going to hang my garment bag up in her closet, but the closet was packed to the brim with clothing that belonged to her as a teenager. I slipped on my bedroom shoes and went to check and see if there was some space for it in the hallway closet.
I opened the walk-in closet in the hall and found some space for my bag. The closet had a door in the rear of it that led to the attic. I was mad bored, and since there was nothing to watch on television and nothing to read, I elected to explore the attic instead.
I nudged open the door to the attic stairs, which was hard to open and squeaky, being that no one had been up there in years. After ascending the stairs and finding the pull string for the lightbulb, I was surprised to see there were very few spinderwebs around. However, there was a lot of dust, and I almost turned around in fear my allergies would start acting up.
I was reaching for the string to turn off the light when I noticed an old hope chest in a corner by the window seat. Normally, I am not a nosy person, but something drew me to the chest like a magnet. Besides, my whole point in going up there in the first place was to meddle through family heirlooms and mementos anyway.
I tried to open the chest, but there was a lock on it and the key was nowhere in sight. I shifted through a couple of boxes filled with clothing, cheerleader pom-poms and batons, yearbooks belonging to my mother and her sisters, and all the usual things until I found an old rusty screwdriver.
I used the flat head of the screwdriver to bust the lock on the chest. It didn’t take much effort, since the lock was flimsy after so much time. I sat down on the window seat and started pulling things out. There were several photographs of my grandparents when they were younger, pictures of their wedding, pictures of my mother and aunts as children and teenagers, pictures of my great-grandparents and other family members. There were some old lace handkerchiefs, a couple of hand-knitted cardigans, and even a poodle skirt.
Looking at all the old things made me crack up laughing. I couldn’t even relate to times like those. For me, growing up had been so different than the way my mother grew up. I guess one day my daughter, if I have one, will be saying the same thing about me.
After beginning to replace everything back in the trunk neatly, I noticed something stuck at the bottom I hadn’t noticed the first time around. I yanked on it and got it free. It turned out to be an old book of some sort with no visible name on the cover. The underside of it was sticky, as if something, maybe water, had seeped through the trunk over the years and made it adhere to the lining of the trunk.
I was hoping it was some famous classic novel I could take back down to the bedroom and read until I got sleepy. It wasn’t until I opened it up that I realized it was a diary.
The first page said, “This Diary Belongs To,” but the name had been smudged, and I couldn’t make it out.
I started flipping through it, looking to see if the keeper of the diary signed the pages, but none of them were signed. In fact, only the month and day were at the heading of each page. There was no year written down. I thought that was strange, but since I am not a sleuth or anything, I didn’t ponder the fact for very long.
The handwriting was unfamiliar to me, but I knew for sure it wasn’t my mother’s. I wondered which one of my aunts the diary belonged to. Since I knew it would be inappropriate to read the diary, no matter whose it was, I began to close it so I could put it back. But there was a bookmark in it, and I wanted to see what it said, so I opened it to that particular page.
The bookmark turned out to have a friendship poem imprinted on it, along with a bouquet of flowers. That was not the interesting part, though. Some words caught my eye, and I was shocked.
I sucked his dick, Fingering me, and I came so hard seemed to jump right up off the page at me. I was like “DAYUMMMMMMMMMM!”