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From: "james coyne" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
Subject: Helen & I, Chapters 1-5
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I would like to submit this, the first of several parts, to A.S.S.M. for
review and possible publication. It probably falls short of much of the
material I've read in A.S.S.M. but certainly is better than some. I can
be reached at:
<the_panda@hotmail.com>
Thank you, and have a Happy New Year!
This is a work of fiction, meant only for adults. If you are not
considered an adult in your state, (21 years of age in most) or if you
are offended by stories with sexual content, read something else.
Copyright (C) 1997 by The Panda. All rights reserved. Permission is
hereby granted for non-commercial use of this complete and unaltered
text.
Any other use of this text is a violation of copyright. No permission is
given hereby for any sort of distribution to minors or other persons to
whom such distribution would be illegal in the jurisdiction of
distributor, recipient or intermediary. No hard copies may be made
without written permission from the author.
If you want to comment on the story I can be reached at:
the_panda@hotmail.com
HELEN AND I
By the panda
CHAPTER 1.
Helen is my lover. The question that continues to puzzle me is: Are we
in love, or are we in love with lust?
We met at a neighbor's party on the Fourth of July, but another five
months would pass before we became extremely interested in each other.
How shall I describe Helen? My first impression was of her long
graceful legs and marvelous ass barely hidden behind denim shorts. I
was moving across the room to be closer to her when she turned to face
me. Well...deja vu! There was the face I had dreamed of since puberty.
Glasses that seemed to be slipping dangerously down her nose covered
Helen's exceedingly green eyes. Oh, but it was a generous, perky nose.
Her face was surrounded by luxurious auburn hair. This combination made
for striking features. As I recall, she wore a Tee shirt that read "Hi
Sailor!" across abundant breasts. Our eyes met, and I introduced myself
and learned her name was Helen, but I moved past her to the bar and lost
the opportunity to engage her in further conversation. Months later, I
found Helen to be smooth and lustrous, both in style and form. But on
that July day nothing happened beyond that casual introduction.
I was married to Maggie, whom I loved very much. Several years ago
there was an accident, a terrible accident. Now Maggie remains in a
coma with little hope of recovery. I managed to function, but the stress
of Maggie's condition, job pressures and medical bills combined to wear
me down. My poor performance at work was the first signal. I was in a
funk of despondency and couldn't lift myself out of it. The household
chores didn't get done. Dishes piled up; beds went unmade and
unchanged. Worst of all, I sat by Maggie's bed in the skilled nursing
home and stared off into space. I had become useless to everyone.
It was Tess, my Mother-in Law, who pried my mind loose from its
wretched, mired state. "I'd send you to the doctor if I thought it'd
help," she said. "But what you really need right now is to get laid."
I was jolted into reality. "What did you say? I love Maggie, and
she..." "Oh shut up," Tess growled. "I know what I'm talking about. If
I thought Maggie would be offended I'd never suggest it, but it's
exactly what she'd want for you." Tess went on. " Life goes on. Find
someone. Start a relationship. Get on with your life." With that said
and tears rolling down her face, Tess went home and left me alone to
think about it.
CHAPTER 2.
It was a frigid, bleak, December day when Helen and I met the second
time. We were several minutes into a general conversation outside the
local Harris Teeter, our shopping carts were head to head. I was
pleased that Helen actually recalled our meeting last July. Dark storm
clouds were rolling in, and the turbulent winds sweeping across the
parking lot molded Helen's skirt to her body. She might as well have
been nude from the waist down. I felt my cock become rigid for the
first time since Maggie's accident. I remembered what Tess had told me.
I looked at Helen and found her staring at the bulge in my pants. Why I
said it I'll never know. But I do things like this on occasion ¾ just
on impulse. "Well, I guess you can tell that Bubba and I are glad to
see you." Helen snorted twice, then burst out laughing. I allowed a
smug grin to cross my face. Inside I had begun to glow. I was being
reborn. God, she was beautiful when she laughed. And what a laugh it
was. A genuine laugh, nothing held back. (Later that night Helen told
me that was the first time she had really laughed in over a year. Her
divorce had caught her by surprise and left her devastated.) She smiled
at me. Her smile contained hidden promise and intrigue. My cock was at
full mast now. The blustering wind whipped my slacks around my legs
making my hard-on very conspicuous to onlookers. Fortunately for me
they were some distance away, too busy fighting the wind themselves to
notice my best friend Bubba's emergence. Helen, still smiling said,
"Tell Bubba I'm glad to see him too." She kissed me on the lips and
turned to go. No! I thought, don't let her go! I managed to stammer
out an invitation to dinner that night. She declined, but was still
smiling, when she said, "I can't do dinner, but do come over to my place
about nine tonight. Here's my address and phone number." Numbly I
accepted. Bubba erupted in my pants.
I managed to drive home without getting into an accident. I recall
black, threatening clouds and the wind sharply buffeting the car, but my
heart soared, I was above it all. And Helen was the wind beneath my
wings.
CHAPTER 3.
I arrived home, took one look around and was amazed at the slovenly
appearance of each room I entered. I began a non-stop cleanup campaign.
Kitchen first. Strangely enough, the necessary cleaning tools were
readily available. (I had not used them very often following Maggie's
accident.) The bedroom was torn apart and clean linen and bedding
replaced scuzzy sheets and a stained blanket. Good news! The vacuum
still worked. I used it until I thought the motor would burn out. I
saved the bathroom for last. As I finished cleaning it I realized it
was 8 PM. I managed to shave without cutting my face up, showered and
dressed. Giving a mental thanks to Tess for picking up my stuff at the
cleaners I stepped into a pair of dark blue corduroy slacks, pulled on a
light yellow sports shirt, grabbed my Marlboro Man jacket and headed for
the door. After one step outside I returned somewhat chagrined that I
had to add socks and loafers to my attire.
I was flying. Fortunately, Helen lived nearby. I walked, in a daze,
regaining consciousness in time to ring the bell to her apartment.
Helen greeted me at her door wearing a black negligee, with some sort of
dark green shimmer to it as she moved. I liked it. No, that's putting
it mildly, I would have liked it if she were bundled up in a Russian
army overcoat. I was stunned by it! Helen acted quickly to bring me
out of my stupor. She put her arms around me saying: "How are my new
good friends Jim and Bubba?" And she kissed me. It was a long, sloppy
kiss. I was rusty and actually, so was Helen. But, hey! Once you
learn how to ride a bicycle . . ..
We were grinding against each other before that kiss ended and the next
one started. One with her tongue pushing slowly into my mouth. Her
breath tasted of cinnamon. There was a delightful fragrance emanating
from her. I never remembered to ask what it was. What a wuss!
I began to flick my tongue over and under hers. We abandoned ourselves
to the kiss. I moved my hands over her firm ass and clenched her cheeks
with my fingers as I crushed her pelvic area to my loins. Our mouths
never separated. Saliva began to build up. I swallowed it, and powered
by a desire I had never known before, started moving my tongue at a
frantic pace - in, out, over, and around. Helen matched me with her
intensity. I broke the kiss only to move to her neck, which I started
to suck and lick with the same energy I'd used with the kiss.
I had to touch her breasts; to suck her nipples; to lick her skin
everywhere. So I did. Pinching a nipple between my thumb and forefinger
with one hand, while alternating between licking and biting the other
nipple. Although already rigid, her nipples seemed to increase in size
as I played on. Helen began to moan, and started licking my earlobe. I
shuddered in pleasure.
I looked down and noted Helen's free hand caressing herself between her
legs. She moved her lips back to my mouth and our tongues resumed
wrestling. We lost our balance and fell, landing softly on a muslin
colored couch. Helen, her mouth still locked to mine, groped for my
hand and placed it at the junction between her legs. Her panties were
so wet at first I thought she'd pissed in her pants. (I really was
rusty.)
Eventually, I left her mouth and breasts to concentrate on her sopping
wet cunt. Two of my fingers found their way inside her panties. She
rotated her hips against my fingers, indicating the place, pace and
pressure she needed. I increased the tempo and she began to come.
With the lower portion of her body quivering uncontrollably, Helen came
a second time. Hell, maybe that was still the first one, I was not
keeping track, and I had too many other things going on. I withdrew my
fingers and instantly Helen got quite vocal about what she wanted me to
do next. She got what she wanted as I buried my face in the thick
natural auburn hair covering her cunt and tasted her juices for the
first time. Oh! God! The sweetness!
My tongue entered her cunt as far as it could. (Just testing, someone
once called me a dipstick and I . . .well, you know.)
I started licking along the folds of her labia, alternating from one
side to the other, deliberately avoiding contact with her clit.
Instead, I shifted position slightly and began licking her asshole,
which had a rather pleasant pungent taste. (Another victory for mind
over matter.) My tongue's contact caused her to heave away from me as
though she'd been shocked. (Later I learned this was indeed the case.)
But, her ass returned to my tongue quickly enough. When a sufficient
amount of saliva was deposited, I stiffened my tongue and penetrated her
asshole.
Why would I do this you ask? For the same reason Hillary (Edmund, not
Clinton) climbed Everest, that's why - because it was there. This
produced a sharp gasp from Helen. Moments later, she started cuming
again. "Nuhhhh! Nuhhhh!" she moaned softly as she began a convulsive
wriggling, and my tongue was momentarily trapped in her hole. I
panicked, and slapped her ass hard, causing her muscles to relax
momentarily and regained the use of my tongue. My God, this woman was
hot. (Does this momentary reflection mean that my mind was not totally
in the gutter, but engrossed in philosophic trends of thought regarding
. . ..)
Oh, shit! We were falling!
Closely entwined, we rolled slowly off the couch to the plush, dark
green carpet below.
Bumpily-bump-bump! That proved to me that there's a time to think and a
time to act. I returned to the action.
After removing her panties, I slowly inserted the wet index finger of my
left hand up to the second knuckle in her ass without any difficulty.
Two fingers on my right hand returned to their earlier journey, sliding
in and out of her cunt, the entrance of which was now covered with a
white foam. (All this per the instructions on page 17 of the sex manual
I bought at a garage sale the previous week.)
Helen was moaning, "Give me your cock! Come on, fuck me!" I ignored her
plea, never feeling more powerful. "Not yet," I growled, between
licking and sucking her hardened nipple. Then I lowered my head to her
frothy, succulent cunt and sought out her clit. I lifted my head and
gazed up at Helen as she lay there on the carpet. The richness and
intensity of her once pale complexion was now splotched with crimson
blushes. This, coupled with her tousled, auburn hair and lust filled,
smoky green eyes was a stark contrast against the dark emerald green
carpet. (I reprimanded myself, at this point insisting that I get the
hell out of English 101, and back to the good parts. So I did.)
I returned to her blood engorged clit and lightly licked it. Helen
clenched the carpet, grabbing a fistful in each hand as she cried out,
"That's it baby! Oh, God! Do that . . .. Yeessss! Oh, God! Oooh, God!
I had taken her clit between my teeth and very gently nipped it with my
teeth. The musky odor from Helen's sopping wet cunt was overpowering. I
came up for air, then quickly lowered my face back into the wet,
ferruginous colored curls comprising the hairy bush surrounding her
wondrously sweet tasting cunt. (Ferr . . . what? Oh, go ahead look it
up. There are reams of socially redeeming value in this section.)
Helen screamed out in pleasure at the moment of contact when I resumed
nibbling her clit. Her entire pelvic area was rotating in a circular
fashion. "Oh, oh, oh, God, oh, God, I'm gonna explode" Helen shrieked.
I thrust my tongue deeper inside her, and wedging a second finger into
her widened asshole, and began moving both in and out at rapid pace. (I
think I could have fisted her ass at this point.)
Helen started thrusting her ass toward the ceiling. I nipped at her clit
one more time, and held on slowly increasing the pressure. Helen
screamed, "I'm cumming! Oh, God I'm cumming. Ohhh, please stop! I
can't take anymore!"
She seemed serious about my stopping, so moments later I released her
clit, gave her ass one last frig and kissed her softly on the mouth.
She tried to return the kiss, but couldn't. "I'm dead," she said. "I
can't believe how I feel. I'm in Heaven, Ohhhhh, I can't stop cumming!"
I held her close, alternatingly kissing her neck, her shoulder and then
her breast. I kept my hand pressed firmly against her wet mound, which
was soaked with a combination of my saliva and Helen's juices. Helen
shuddered when I licked her nipple, then gasped and said: "My God, we
haven't fucked yet!" I smiled and replied, "that's all right honey. Me
and Bubba can wait awhile. We have all night don't we?" "We sure do,"
she sighed. That being the case, we both fell asleep wrapped in each
other's arms.
CHAPTER 4.
I awoke at 12:15 am. Bubba had been awakened moments earlier.
INCOMING!
I was still groggy, but my reflexes were instantly alert. Bubba was
under attack. I looked down through half opened eyes and found Helen
crouched under the sheet, having placed herself between my legs, two
hands holding Bubba erect. Hell, Bubba could have stood up for himself
given half a chance. Helen wasn't giving an inch. Her grip was
exquisitely tight. The part of Bubba not firmly grasped in her hands was
in her mouth, and . . .."Oh, OOOOHHHH! Aahhhhh! Do thaaat again!" I
shouted, I realized I was taking a serious licking here as I came fully
awake and started to take inventory of my body parts. Helen released
her top hand from my cock to caress my balls. Simultaneously, she
started to swallow Bubba. I wasn't gonna last much longer at this pace.
Reluctantly, I rolled away from Helen's clutches, and mumbled: "Let's
try fucking for a change." "Great idea. You're a genius Jim, " Helen
replied, through lipstick smeared lips. She lay on her back and as
Bubba slid in her to the hilt Helen cried, "Oh, boy," and tried to touch
the ceiling with her toes. I think she did on my third stoke. At least
I thought I detected red nailpolish on the ceiling later. We had begun
a torrid horizontal ballet.
I could still taste and smell Helen's sweet juices encrusted in my
mustache and beard. My early morning mouth breath didn't seem as bad as
usual, so I risked kissing her. ("Well, come on, reader - she didn't
brush either - and fairs fair.")
Helen didn't object, in fact it was a prolonged exchange of tongues,
saliva and I thought for a second, a filling she'd extracted trying to
suck my tongue out of my head.
Eventually, (Okay, okay, I'm not Superman). It didn't take long (is
that better?) before I started to cum, and cum, and cum. (I do that
very well, thank you very much.) Ah, bliss. We held tight to one
another for a time and I went back to sleep only to dream that my semen
dried while we were cuddling together and we were now stuck together for
eternity. When I later told Helen about the dream she thought it kind
of romantic. Go figure!
CHAPTER 5.
We awoke within minutes of each other. It was about ten after six.
Helen bounded out of bed and dashed for the shower. Feeling somewhat
playful, and with the early signs of being able to do something
constructive with a quasi-erection perking hither-dither, I followed. I
was surprised when Helen halted my entry into the shower. "What's
wrong," I asked. Helen smiled, then frowned and said, "We don't have
time right now. Now don't tempt me. I mean it. I've got to get dressed
and out for an important interview. Besides, I don't have a thing to
eat; we'll have to get breakfast at the Frenchman's. I decided against
the inane remarks that came to mind, and agreed with her. "Okay, the
Frenchman's it is.
I was impressed with Helen's ability to make herself very presentable
within a short time frame. In fact, she had to wait for me before we
could leave. "Damn shoelaces anyway."
Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the Frenchman's for breakfast.
Oddly enough, the Frenchman's was actually owned and operated by a small
henna-haired French woman in her fifties named Lilly. The kitchen was
run by her husband, a tall, thin Romanian, who was known to laugh and
talk incessantly, while turning out the best breakfast and lunch food in
town.
We went in, took a booth by a window looking out onto a major
intersection as it braced itself for the new days bustling activity, and
ordered breakfast. I led off our conversation. "Helen, last night . .
. well, last night was great." At this point, wanting to say something
profoundly romantic, I could only manage to stammer, " I, . . . I, . .
.." "Jim," she was smiling at me as she said it. "I thought last
night was sensational. Hopefully we'll have more nights like that;
perhaps we'll even have mornings and afternoons as well. Right now I
think we should tell each other a little something about ourselves.
Would you like me to start it off?" And that solidified the beginning
of a wonderful relationship, now well into its second year.
We saw each other often after that day, but never discussed the
possibility of a future together. My wife, Maggie's status changed for
the worse during this period and we all waited for the inevitable.
Tess, my mother-in-law, was very much aware of our relationship and
accepted it ¾ being very cordial on those times Helen and I met her.
Tess even mentioned that I'd made a good choice and never raised the
subject again. This helped me immeasurably in deflecting the guilt that
surfaced in the days following Maggie's passing two weeks later.
To be continued . . .
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