“Push harder, Thompson. Get motivated. Be a dolphin, not a walrus!”
Another shitty swim practice, with the coach yelling at me way more than anyone else. “Why do I have to push myself to the puking stage every fucking day? Why can’t I just go to meets?” I tossed in my mind as I pushed even harder on my last lap of the day.
I was a senior in High School, old for my class since I had been held back a year by my parents when we moved from a rural area to a top quality public school system in the Chicago suburbs. It was a good move on their part, allowing me to develop academically and athletically so that at almost 20 I, Randy Thompson, was more star than also-ran.
The last meet of the season was Saturday, and thankfully no practice tomorrow. The team party was Saturday night at Josh’s house.
Josh and I were not really friends, but I seemed to get invited over there a lot. It was always interesting for several reasons.
First, Josh’s house was the biggest and fanciest in the school system. Second, they always served fantasitc food. Third, his mother Ginger had the biggest tits in town, and loved to dress provocatively. Though Josh’s father George was very successful in business, he was completely dominated by his wife who had a personality as big as her tits.
Ginger was a piece of work. Her face was not particularly attractive, but she certainly wasn’t homely, and her face looked much younger than her 45 years. It likely was because of some medical procedures – but she had the money for a top notch plastic surgeon, so there were no obvious signs of any work having been done.
From the way Ginger’s tits bounced around in the provocative outfits she wore, it was a 99% probability that they were all natural. The “jury” was split 50-50 on whether she had had any work done on her bubble ass. Though not close to thin, she was as slim as a big-titted woman can be and not require back surgery, or breast reduction surgery to relive back pain.
Naturally all Josh’s male classmates – as well as their mothers (in a MUCH different way) – had a fascination with Ginger. Though I never actually participated in the discussions (but I listened intently with a smile on my face), what the guys would say about Ginger outside of Josh’s presence would curl you hair, virtually every other word being “suck,” “fuck,” or “lick.” The time she got out of her pool with the see-through-when-wet bikini on and paraded around the entire deck, ostensibly looking for a towel, while 10 of Josh’s classmates looked on, was one of the most unforgettable moments of my life.
Yeah, you know it – Ginger was an exhibitionist and prick tease. She loved tenting teenage boys’ pants and pretending to be oblivious. She also loved saying provocative things then walking away. But she was not a “hugger,” and to my knowledge the only time she ever allowed anyone besides her sons or husband to touch her was one time last summer when she asked me to put sunscreen on her back and the back of her legs, and when I was done dismissed me like hired help.
Anyway, during the last men’s meet on Saturday I was swimming the 100 meter fly and 200 medley, as well as being the anchor (I always thought while this term might be great for track it wasn’t really appropriate for swimming) on the 400 medley relay. I was no Michael Phelps but was the 2 nd best swimmer on the team, and was almost as big and muscular as Michel Phelps.
Of course Ginger was at the meet. Sitting in the front row of the bleachers like she always did, giving everyone a show with her long legs extending from her short skirt, and her low cut top. For the swimmers on the other team she was a distraction – our secret weapon for home meets. We eked out a two point win – and Ginger and I were most responsible, she because of the distractions she caused, and me because I won my individual events and I made up 10 yards in the last lap of the last event and we won the medley relay.
That night at the party I was full of myself, as cocky and confident as I had ever been. While I normally dress conservatively, I had on a muscle shirt and tight pants. Ginger was wearing a virtually see through top, four inch heels, a tight short skirt, and despite the low temperature outside no pantyhose. I caught her occasionally ogling me, and of course I was ogling her, like the rest of the males.
Ginger was as gregarious as I had ever seen her, probably at least slightly fueled by the numerous drinks she required her husband to fetch her.
About an hour before the party was to end, I came to an epiphany. Hell I wasn’t long for the school since I could graduate early at the beginning of March if I wanted to, and having never really liked Josh or respected his father, I decided I would find out if Ginger actually wanted some action. So I cleverly maneuvered myself into a one-on-one conversation with her, in a corner of her spacious den.
“Well G” [that is what she wanted all of Josh’s “friends” to call her] “on behalf of the entire team we want to thank you not just for this wonderful party, but also for your contribution today.”
“What do you mean Randy?”
“Well like you always do you distracted the swimmers on the other team, and that was certainly worth our two point margin of victory.”
“Now Randy I did no such thing.”
“Sorry, G, but you did. That low cut blouse only partially covering your well endowed chest, and your exposed slinky legs, would distract any red blooded male. Certainly you know that.”
“I know nothing of the kind.”
“You mean you don’t notice it when – like tonight – guys are gawking at you, and you’re tenting the pants of all of Josh’s friends?”
“Those are very presumptuous comments young man. You make it sound like I’m a tease.”
“Well you are G. Otherwise you wouldn’t always highlight your enormous breasts and perfect butt. I have always wondered, though, if you are all show and no go.”
“You are being totally fresh and out of line Randy Thompson. You have no right to talk to me that way or to keep disrobing me with your eyes. I’m going to put a sweater on so you can’t leer at my breasts any longer.”
With that she purposefully sashayed toward her first floor bedroom suite. I followed several steps behind, her, and when I saw her leave the suite door open I looked around, saw no one looking, and walked in and locked the door behind me.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked making intense eye contact. “I want you to see the actual affect you have on guys, G,” I responded as I slipped off my shoes, and took off my shirt, pants, then boxers. My Johnson was engorged and pointing upwardly it was so hard.
“Without taking her eyes off my cock, with a partially flustered look on her face, Ginger stammered “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to leave right now.”
“Actually G, I’m not leaving until I have my way with you, to make up for all the times you’ve given me blue balls and caused me to ejaculate on my sheets. And I know why you left the door open.”
“You’re a presumptuous animal aren’t you.”
With that I quickly closed the distance between us, kissed her briefly, and then started massaging her tits while staring into her eyes like a cobra would its prey.
She started retreating, but backed into a high back couch and could move no more. I pulled her flimsy top down and started sucking her right nipple while still massaging her left tit. A fantastic surprise – not visible even with her sometimes almost see-through tops was the fact that she had puffy nipples. I LOVE puffies!
She was half-heartedly (maybe quarter-heartedly if that is a proper expression) trying to push me away, so she didn’t move me even an inch. Actually, I moved closer, so that my dick was between my pelvic area and her stomach.
After about a minute of her unenthusiastic pushing and making whining sounds it was clear my activities on her wonderful orbs was having an effect on her. After about two minutes more she was sighing instead of whining, and had diverted my gaze by closing her eyes. After another two minutes or so I spun her around, bent her over the back of the couch, and quickly and forcefully lifted up her skirt and just pulled her panties to the side, not off.
As I was fingering her clearly wet cunt she – again, unenthusiastically – pleaded, with disconnected, semi-anguished utterances like:
“Please don’t do this to me Randy.”
“I’m sorry for giving you blue balls.”
“I didn’t really know the affect I was having.”
“Don’t treat me like a slut.”
“Someone could come in any minute.”
“You can’t fuck me.”
My response – I knew Shakespeare would come in handy one day – “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
With that I moved my tool past her panties and buried it in her balls deep. I grabbed both of her massive tits with my hands, and started thumping her with everything I had.
I got another unexpected treat. She could undulate her pussy – and she did! Though constantly moaning “No, stop, you’ve got to stop” her pussy told a different story. The contrariness of her actions and words was complete when in addition to undulating her pussy she started thumping back. She was still moaning “No, no” as I ejaculated a full load of cum into her – that is until the cum triggered a powerful orgasm and she simply groaned and went limp.
When I finished rocketing into her I didn’t pull out. I lethargically continued to reciprocate in her, each slow pump eliciting a pleasure groan; and I continued to play with her puffy nipples, each squeeze, twist, and stroke continuing to send endorphins through my brain.
As I proceeded to have my way with her I whispered time and again “Isn’t ‘go’ better than ‘all show?’” Her repeated response “No you animal, I can’t believe you did this to me – aahhh – you’ll pay – groan.”
When I finally went flaccid, I pulled out, turned her around, and for the first time gave her a deep kiss, which she clearly reciprocated, including sticking her tongue in my mouith. When I broke the kiss I said “You’re a fantastic fuck G. I want to abuse you again and again.”
With that I started getting dressed while staring at her beet red nipples – which she made no attempt to cover up as she slumped to the floor. In a sex-induced stupor she kept her eyes on my crotch until I was fully clothed, saying “You can’t fuck me and get away with it. I’m no slut. I can’t believe you did that to me.” Again her actions belied her words as after I turned to leave I looked over my shoulder and saw her lying on the rug with her eyes closed and a big smile on her face. I carefully opened the door, saw no one looking, slinked out, got my coat, and left the party after thanking Josh “For the most memorable evening of my life.”
Sunday I was on top of the world! My parents asked me why I was in such a good mood. “Swimming is over and now I can concentrate on my studies and early graduation,” I said, figuring it was better than the truth; “I had the best sex ever last night; Ginger was asking for it and I finally porked her but good!”
Monday was “early day” at school, and since swim practice was no more I got home just after 1 p.m. Shortly afterward our home phone rang:
“Randall this is Mrs. Thornton.”
“I ask that you call me Mrs. Thornton after what you did to me. I hope you are sorry for what you did.”
“Actually G it was the best time of my young life, I’ve been thinking of nothing else, with a smile on my face, since then.”
“Well you may no longer have a smile on your face when you find out why I’m calling you perv. I want to meet with your parents to tell them what a sex manic you are. If they’re home I’ll come over right now.”
At first I was taken aback. Then the wheels started to turn. “It’s 1:20, she knows both of my parents work and that my sister is in college. She has another agenda,” I chortled to myself as I said into the phone “Oh Mrs. Thornton please don’t. They are home now, but please don’t come over.”
She hung up. I took a quick shower, put on nothing but sweat shorts and a T-shirt, and spread a bed sheet on the living room rug.
Within ten minutes G was there. I opened the door. She glared at me. “May I take your coat Mrs. Thornton?” I politely inquired.
“As long as you aren’t fresh when you do so,” she shot back.
When I removed her coat I saw she was dressed like a total slut. An almost see through flimsy top with no bra, a short skirt, again no pantyhose, and despite the snow outside 4 inch heels.
“Where are your parents?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
“Oh, I forgot they were at work when I told you they were here G. But maybe you can tell me what I did to you Saturday night that was most objectionable, and I’ll relay the message.”
“You got me here on false pretenses you little bastard. I’m leaving.”
“Ah, G,” I said as I grabbed both of her wrists. “You’re not leaving until you either suck my cock or I fuck you again.”
With that I released the grip on one of her hands, and quickly pulled my pants down and stepped out of them before grabbing her again. I was sure to hold her hands out to her sides so that she could see my raging hard on. She was mesmerized by it, allowing me to take off her top before she glared at me and said “I’ll never suck your cock you pervert.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d say that,” I responded as I picked her up, walked over to the sheet I had laid down, placed her on it, and went after her panties.
She was calling me all sorts of names as I took off her panties, leaving her clothed with only her skirt bunched up around her waist, and her 4 inch heels. As she was pushing on my shoulders with so little force it wouldn’t have moved a tricycle, I spread her thighs apart, knelt down between them, and grabbed both of her hands as I bent over and started licking her pussy.
It was obvious that her pussy had recently been shaved and lightly scented [I wonder why she did that?] and it looked fantastic. I hadn’t actually seen it, just poked it, Saturday night, and was pleased by how nice it looked. In no time at all with my nose and tongue I exposed her clitoris, and started licking and sucking up a storm. Her disingenuous verbal protests turned to moans, she stopped trying to move her arms, I released her wrists and brought one hand to join my tongue in pleasuring her pussy, and massaged one of her glorious puffy nipples with the other hand.
I brought her through two earth-shattering orgasms as all the while – between pleasure moans, groans and sighs – she was incanting “Stop it, you have no right to do this to me.”
Once I was sure she had recovered from her second climax I lifted her ankles onto my shoulders, grabbed both of her boobs with my hands, looked her straight in the eye, and planted by turgid cock into her well-worked-over cunt.
Her tits felt so good in my hands, and the look on her face was so priceless – equal parts ecstasy, satisfaction and anguish – I decided to slow fuck her; one of the better decisions of my life.
I must have slow fucked her for 10 minutes, all the while making eye contact and noticing a sly smile on her face and that she occasionally licked her lips, until she started making little chirping type noises. At that time I brought one hand off a glorious tit and touched her clit. Within two seconds of me touching her clit she started squirming and thrashing, her obviously well-toned pussy muscles clamped on my dick, and her pleasure organ covered my cock with so much juice that it started leaking.
I moved my hand from her clit back to a puffy nipple and continued slow pumping for another 5 minutes or so. I then again heard the little chirping noises, stopped massaging and stroking her boobs, and lay on her and pumped as hard as I could. She moved her legs from being supported by my shoulders to encircling and squeezing my torso. Shortly after that I spewed a mammoth load into her, as she contorted, twisted, shook, and screamed.
After I shot my last bullet into her we lay in that position, with her thighs still around my waist, for a good ten minutes before I literally “popped” out of her.
She was still panting, and sweating. Between pants she said “Just because you think I like being fucked by you, and I have massive orgasms, that doesn’t give you the right to fuck me, you know. I must do something about it.”
I lay next to her as she intermittently repeated her “I must do something about this” statements until I started getting hard again, and my cock was hungry for some more cunt. I then sat up, stared at her with a wicked smile on my face, and said “Yeah. You really have got to do something about it. Get on your hands and knees.”
With that I turned her over, spread her legs, and plunged balls deep into her cunt once again. This time as I doggy-banged her I kneaded her bubble ass (it looked totally natural to me) with one hand, stuck the lubricated thumb of the other hand in her asshole, and bent my neck to the side so that I could watch her prodigious tits slap into one another in response to my pounding.
“Damnnn you – aaahhh – don’t think – oh, oh – you can – Oh God – fuck me – shit, ugh – every second day – oooohhh – the entire year – holy shit, aggh,” Ginger moaned just before she was wracked with another orgasm.
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