Life is funny. Just when you think your ship is sinking and it seems hopeless, a lifeline appears. My humiliating attempt to have sex with my teenage neighbor, Sharon, had resulted in a humiliating and dangerous premature ejaculation--dangerous because of the possibility of an unwanted pregnancy. And even though we dodged that bullet, I was too embarrassed by my performance to ask Sharon out again.
Of course, that was MY problem. Sharon probably felt that I had dumped her because we'd had sex, if you want to call it that, and the mystery was now gone from our relationship. I'd considered that thought might be going through her head, but I also couldn't get over the idea that she might be telling anyone who would listen what a lousy lover I was who could only last for sixty seconds. In short, a laughingstock, albeit with a huge dick. Regardless, I was too embarrassed to talk to her and find out her true feelings.
But now, after my visit with Mrs. Collins, I was on cloud nine. I had performed well with her by all measures that I could think of, including the size of my cock (she used a sewing tape measure to verify my length at ten inches when hard). By all indications, she continued to be pleased with my performance both around her house and in her bedroom. She developed what turned out to be an endless list of jobs for me that invariably ended up in a sweaty fuck session in bed. Linda Collins had an insatiable sex drive, and I did my best to satisfy her.
It looked to be a great summer: I had employment, sort of, and a guilt-free fuck-partner who was not only gorgeous but also experienced and old enough that commitment was not even a consideration. This would be like sport fucking--or so I reasoned. I figured that I'd go off to college in the fall and return during holidays to resume where we left off. Keep in mind, however, this was the conclusion of an eighteen-year-old high school senior whose idea of planning for the future was scraping enough change to buy five gallons of gas. As previously mentioned, my brain stem was lodged in my now measurably large cock.
But to paraphrase Bobby Burns, the best-laid plans can easily go to shit.
My mother, despite her eternally positive demeanor, was not doing well. My good luck with Mrs. Collins was tempered by the fact that it would be a depressing summer with hospitalizations and eventually hospice for Mom. At that point, we all prepared for the inevitable. Mom seemed to handle it better than either Dad or I. She had carefully made all the necessary arrangements and seemed at peace with her situation.
"No one gets to leave this earth alive," she reminded me. Her religious convictions also provided a sort of haven as well. She knew she was only going to a better place. I was not as convinced, but I held my tongue for once and did my best to support her convictions.
And earlier than expected, that summer, she passed–peacefully, thanks to hospice and strong meds. We suffered through all the stages of grief and threw away tons of food, mostly nameless casseroles and a multitude of cheese trays that were continually donated by friends and neighbors. By late July, we had resumed a normal life again, more or less.
My affair with Linda Collins continued but with diminishing fanfare and less frequency. My family situation dampened things to the point where we occasionally had wild sex and let it all out, but for much of the summer, my leisure time at her house was more like a counseling session. Linda was very sweet and let me bare my soul to her (and occasionally other things) while she listened and provided a shoulder to lean on. She became almost a mother to me, which seemed a bit incestuous in retrospect.
Sharon, my college-aged neighbor who was the first to know me in the biblical sense, offered condolences as well, and we eventually did have what amounted to sympathy sex. She invited me over to her house when her parents were away on a trip, and we ended up in a tangle on her parent's king-sized bed. As it turned out, I had misinterpreted her reaction to my premature ejaculation in the front seat of my car.
We were in her living room on the couch, watching TV and drinking some of her parents' wine, snuggling and doing lots of hugging. I let the sympathy card play out until I finally had to stop her.
"Look, Sharon. I truly appreciate your concerns, but I'm ok. I don't mean to be ungrateful, and I am happy that you invited me over, but let's talk about anything other than how I'm dealing with all these emotional issues. I do think about them, but I need a break from it. No disrespect to my mother, whose memory I cherish. OK?"
"Oh, Sammie. I'm so sorry." She looked at me with those teary, doe eyes waiting for what came next.
And with that, we were locked in an embrace, passionately kissing and groping. Her tongue explored my mouth. We were like two snakes in heat. In no time, I had Sharon's sweater completely off, her bra on the floor, and her slacks unzipped. Sharon held up her end by unzipping my fly, and after a considerable struggle, releasing my cock from the prison of my pants and stroking it to a rock-hard erection.
"God, Sammie, I think it's even bigger than the last time I saw it. I've been thinking about your cock ever since that night, but I couldn't tell myself it was as big as I thought it was. Here's the proof. Please tell me you have a rubber this time."
With a Cheshire grin, I looked up from sucking a pink puffy nipple, fumbled in my front pants pocket, and pulled out a sealed package containing a prophylactic. "Trojan Magnum at your service, ma'am. I'll even let you put it on me." I had purchased a dozen for Linda, but she was on the pill and preferred sex without any artificial obstacles. I had used a condom once with her, and we both agreed sex was better without it. But I knew better than to suggest that with Sharon.
"Wait, I want to try something before you put on that raincoat." Sharon eyed me mischievously. "I want to see if I can fit you in my mouth." And never taking her eyes off me, she lowered her head and stretched her lips to fit over the head of my cock.
My suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Sharon's fellatio was incredible, possibly even better than Linda's, although that would be a coin toss. After a few minutes of licking, kissing, and swallowing as much of me as she could muster, she looked up, gasping for air and breathing hard.
"Just don't cum in my mouth. If you are going to cum, tell me! I'm a little weird about swallowing cum."
"I promise." I realized that after my first round with Sharon, my promises could be construed as empty. But encouraged by my confidence, she hesitantly licked the underside of my crown and put the head back in her mouth. My stamina had improved appreciably, and I was pretty sure I could hold off for some time.
But then, when Sharon resumed her deliberations, I began to have my doubts. She licked and kissed my shaft like a pro, alternately sucking just the head and then forcing more of it until she gagged. The red ring from her lipstick just behind the plum-sized helmet excited me even more. Her fingers, unable to surround the thick shaft, worked like a slow-moving piston in concert with her mouth. After a few minutes of lovemaking with my cock, she looked up. "Let's get on my parents' bed. This isn't all that comfortable."
Indeed, she was hunched over at an awkward angle of attack as I fondled her breasts and rubbed her pussy through her panties while she made love to my prick. She stood and stepped out of her slacks, naked except for a pair of thong panties. "C'mon, Sammie. Follow me."
And I did, her perfect tits jiggling and her sweet ass swaying with each step.
The bedroom was an old folks' idea of comfort. Family photos adorned the dressers, and the bed was covered with shams and frumpy, decorative pillows. Sharon swept them to the floor with a couple of swift arm motions and directed me to the middle. My pants, boxers, socks, and shirt found the floor. I jumped into the center and rolled onto my back, my cock stiff and leaning slightly like a famous Italian tower, still glistening from Sharon's fellatio.
"Should I remove my panties? I'll be naked and embarrassed. Don't look."
All fake modesty aside, Sharon had the body of a goddess. Her firm cone-shaped tits sat like twin peaks on her chest, her large nipples swollen and puffy. Years of gymnastics training had toned her to the point where her ass was as round and hard as an apple. Placing her thumbs on each side of her waistline, she swayed her ass and slid her panties slowly down in a mock strip tease, turning and showing me her perfect derriere as she looked over her shoulder, smiling. When she bent over to slip the panties off, she revealed pussy lips with just a smattering of pubic hair. She turned around, and I could see that she was au naturelle--no shaved pudendum for her. She bore a modest V of ginger-colored pubic hair.