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By Paris Waterman

 Paris Waterman 1998

Warren sat hunched over, on a wooden bench about five yards inside the 
eight-foot high fence surrounding the yard. He gazed forlornly at the 
rivulets of early morning light breaking through the birch trees. He 
wore only his pajama pants and sandals. He took a deep drag on his 
cigarette, exhaled the smoke through his nostrils and reached for the 
cup of coffee on the bench beside him.

Warren sighed and leaned back against the garage wall and sipped the 
last of his coffee. The wall was cool on his naked shoulders. He 
listened to the birds gabbling and bickering at the feeders in the trees 
and continued to calm down. Last night had been a bitch.

"Only a rich cunt can save me now," he thought with an air of utmost 
weariness. "I get so tired of chasing after new cunts all the time. It 
gets mechanical." He slapped his leg, which had fallen asleep and 
continued his soliloquy.

"I can't fall in love. Why? Am I such an egotist? Women are my vice, 
like booze or heroin. I gotta have a new one every day. If I don't I get 
morbid, or worse. I think about it all the time. Sometimes I amaze 
myself, I know the guys are in awe of my successes, and how quickly I 
pull them off. If only they knew how little it really means. I do it on 
automatic pilot mostly. Sometimes I'm not thinkin' about a woman at all, 
but suddenly I spot one lookin' at me, and then wham! It starts all over 
again. Before I know what I'm doing I've got her alone someplace. I 
don't even remember what I say to 'em."

Laughing out loud, Warren took a last drag on the cigarette and flipped 
it into a nearby shrub.

"Shit, the guy's would kill to know what I lay on 'em, but for the life 
of me, I don't remember. I get 'em alone, give 'em a pat on the ass, and 
before I know it, I've nuzzled their pussy, they've sucked my cock, and 
we fuck like rabbits. It's wham, bam, thank you Mam! Over and out. 
Getting rid of them is harder than finding and fuckin' 'em. It's kinda 
like a dream. I wonder, is it really a dream?


She lived on a small side street just off Carolina Beach Road before it 
intersected with College Road, in one of four bungalows that faced onto 
a common courtyard with a small swimming pool as its focal point. Red 
zinnias, mauve petunias and white azaleas threatened to overflow the 
concrete walkway leading to the pool. The evening air was rich with the 
smell of dampened plants and steaks being grilled next door. Warren had 
spotted her while walking through the Mall earlier that afternoon. He's 
allowed her to observe his interest in her and then removed himself from 
her field of vision. He was an expert at this. Intuitively, he knew 
which shops she would visit and in what order. Other girls passed 
through his field of vision. Some were attractive, some not, but he 
remained fixated on her. It was a simple matter to follow her out of the 
Mall, to her car and to her apartment.

He waited patiently, like a big game hunter stalking his prey. Sitting 
in his car in the searing heat for two hours, watching the comings and 
goings from the bungalows, until he was satisfied that she either lived 
alone, or was alone at the moment. He allowed the car door to slam shut, 
in part to announce his arrival, in part to convey to any observers that 
he was not hiding anything; and walked to her door and rang the bell. It 
took a full minute before the door opened. She was startled to see him 
standing there.

"Hello," he said, with a faint smile breaking across his handsome face. 
"We almost met at the Mall earlier today."

Her black hair was long, and fell over her shoulders. Warren had the 
impression she usually wore it up and had just combed it out. She wore a 
simple black cotton dress that reached nearly to her feet and fit at the 
waist in a way that made it quite clear she had special charms hidden 
beneath it. He felt that special tingle in his groin that signified hot, 
raw, sex was near at hand. He stood straight with his hands by his 
sides, and appeared relaxed.

"I remember. Did you follow me?" There was a lilt in her voice that 
reflected an amusement with his appearance.

"Yes, when a man falls in love he has to act quickly or risk losing his 
intended forever." He said this with all sincerity. "My name is Warren," 
he smiled, "and I'd very much like to know you."

"My friends call me Renata," she responded in a friendly fashion. Her 
eyes met his briefly, then quickly down, and then away. "Now we've met. 
Warren, is it?"


"Other than meeting me to declare your love," and her eyes sparkled as 
she uttered the words, "why are you hanging around my place for hours in 
this heat?" Her left hand was slowly stoking her right wrist.

"To make sure there's no husband around with a gun or an ax. I'm a 
little crazy but not that crazy," he grinned, opening his arms as if in 

"You're in luck," Renata said, leaning towards him, her posture erect 
and alert. "There's no one here but me." She turned away and closed her 
door and motioned for Warren to follow her and led him to the rear of 
the building where the trees offered a cool shade.

Renata smiled, flashing a perfect set of white teeth as her large dark 
eyes fixed on him with greater interest than was implied by the casual 
manner in which she spoke. "I hope you don't mind sitting out here," she 
said gesturing to two old-fashioned wooden porch chairs. "The air 
conditioning is broken, they promised to fix it, but . . . "

"That's fine," Warren said softly, looking directly at Renata. "I was 
admiring your zinnias."

"Thank you, but they are not mine," she quickly pointed out as she 
adjusted her hair by brushing it back.

"Teresa is the one to thank for the flowers. She's very talented in that 
area." She glanced at him and then looked down. "Oh, Teresa is my 
roommate," she volunteered. She'll be back tomorrow afternoon." Renata 
caught herself wondering why she'd let that vital piece of information 

Warren nodded as he sat down and crossed his legs - then seemed to 
change his mind and uncrossed them. His arms rested on the chair's arms. 
"Do the flowers remind you of home?" he inquired.

"No, not really. They remind me of Mississippi. I spent many years 
there, near Biloxi."

Warren looked into Renata's eyes briefly and then away. Renata wore no 
makeup, but her coloring was elegant, with the subtle variety of shading 
he often saw in the cinnamon complexions of Latin women.

They sat silent for a moment in the soft lavender light that preceded 
dusk, in that hour of day during Wilmington's lowland summer when it 
seemed time had ceased, and night would be held forever in abeyance.

She gazed into the dusk and not at Warren as she said: "So you followed 
me home from the Mall."

This murmured more as a statement of fact than a question.

"That's right," he said. "I found you to be the most attractive woman 
I've seen in a long time," he said, his voice grew huskier as he 
continued. "I couldn't let you drift out of my life without at least 
trying to meet with you, to talk to you. To let you know how you affect 
me. " He was staring into her eyes as he lightly licked his lips. 
Casually, his eyes dropped to her breasts, he took a deep breath and 
returned them to her eyes.

It was her turn for a brief inspection, and Renata discretely took in 
the long bulge running from his crotch and down his thigh. He dresses to 
the right, she thought, and he takes a large at that. Her eyes met his 
again, there was a sparkle in them that was missing before, then she 
smiled, and asked, "And how do I affect you?"

Warren watched Renata stoke her arm, as she asked the question. He 
decided to be direct.

"As I said earlier," he leaned towards her, "I think you're the most 
attractive woman I've seen in a long time." He reached out and took her 
hand in his, and kissed the palm. "I meant it. I want you."

Renata withdrew her hand, and stared at it, as though he'd left a brand 
upon it.

"You've got a nerve," she said hotly.

"Some people think so," Warren stated blandly. "Actually, I apologize 
for being so abrupt," he continued, "but I meant what I said, I do 
desire you."

This was stated with more emotion than Renata thought possible. His 
voice quavered, then broke, as he continued in a low, hoarse, voice: "I 
want to hold you - feel you against me. I want to be inside you - and I 
want that to be soon."

Renata looked at Warren with narrowed eyes, and turned to face him once 
again, slowly angling her neck in a quizzical fashion. Then abruptly, 
she rose and walked away entering the house. Warren waited patiently. 
After ten minutes passed, he got up and followed Renata inside.

It was dark, the only light coming through the opening from the 
partially opened bathroom door off to the left. Quietly, Warren moved 
toward the door and looked in. Renata was standing in front of the 
mirror stroking and petting her hairy little pussy. She appeared to be 
talking or whispering to it. Warren's cock became fully engorged with 
blood as he debated kicking the door open and fucking her against the 
vanity so he could watch in the mirror, but decided not to - that might 
be rape. He continued to watch as her fingers darted in and out of her 
bushy cunt.

Warren smiled and turned away, walking softly into the darkened living 
room, he withdrew his cock and lay down on the sofa to wait for her to 
come out. As he lay there with his cock twitching, he could still 
visualize the bushy cunt and her fingers strumming it. Warren decided 
he'd let his cock mesmerize Renata from the sofa. "Come here, you 
bitch," he murmured softly over and over. "Come in here and spread that 
cunt over me." She must have picked up the message immediately, for 
within seconds the bathroom was dark and he heard her groping her way 
toward the sofa.

Warren didn't say a word, didn't make a move. He kept his mind riveted 
on her cunt moving quietly toward him in the dark, like a crab. Finally, 
she was standing beside the sofa. Renata didn't say a word either. She 
just stood there as Warren slid his hand up between her legs, she 
shifted one foot a little to make her crotch a bit more accessible. 
Warren couldn't recall putting his hand into a juicier cunt in all his 
life. It was like a paste was running down her legs.

After a few moments, just as naturally as a cow lowering its head to 
graze, she bent over and took his cock in her mouth. By this time, 
Warren had four fingers inside Renata, stirring feverishly, whipping the 
juices into froth. Her mouth was stuffed full and the juice poured down 
her legs. Neither spoke a word in the darkness.

Warren imagined her cunt as a dark, subterranean labyrinth filled with 
cozy corners and rubber teeth; that when she moved a certain way brought 
flashes of purple and mulberry walls to his mind's eye. Languidly, he 
reached out and pulled at the tuft of hair covering her pubis, his thumb 
slowly caressing her clit. Renata moaned but didn't speak a word. She 
continued sucking his cock, pausing to lick it as if it were an ice 
cream cone melting in the summer's heat and then swallowing the cock so 
deep into her throat that she felt the bristles of his pubic hair 
cloying at her lips.

As Warren began to release his load, Renata began to choke and gag. He 
pulled out of her mouth, as she coughed and spit out his sperm. Once her 
air passage was clear, she held up her hand indicating that she was 
alright and took him back into her mouth, swallowing the remainder of 
his life producing seed. After they shared in licking his fingers of all 
her juices, they drifted off to sleep.


He was not aware of actually awakening, for the night had afforded very 
little sleep. Rather, he simply opened his eyes and looked up at the 
morning light cascading across the floor and onto the bed where he lay. 
He was thankful the dreaming was over. As he lay there, his single 
overriding emotion was that of relief at seeing the morning sun.

His watch said seven-forty. He threw off the sheet, went into the 
bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Coming out, he grabbed 
his light cotton robe off the foot of the bed and started down the 

He smelled breakfast before he was halfway down, and he hurried through 
the dining room to the kitchen, where he found Renata squeezing oranges.

"Good morning," she said, smiling radiantly, and with a satisfied 
sparkle in her eyes, she asked: "Coffee?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks."

She poured the dark Colombian brew into his mug. "Would you like to eat 

He shook his head no, picked up the coffee mug and walked out onto the 
terrace. Renata followed and they sat in the shade of a large Magnolia 

Warren took a second sip from the mug and asked, "how long have you been 
up?" He put the mug down onto the wrought-iron table beside him.

Renata looked at him and smiled. She lifted her wrist and looked at her 
watch. "Since six-thirty. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. How 
do you feel? You did a lot of turning and tossing last night."

"Mmmmmmmm," he murmured noncommitingly. He was enjoying the sensations 
of a marvelous languid erection. Renata didn't look bad in the morning; 
sleep apparently refreshed her as it was supposed to, even when she got 
only a little of it. That was the first really personal thing he'd 
noticed about her.

"How 'bout you?" he asked, not answering her.

She smiled. "I've had less sleep, but I can't recall a better night. You 
were unbelievable. I've showered, but you're still dripping out of me."

Renata opened her robe, exposing her long tapered thighs, reached down 
and with a dark red lacquered nail traced up her thigh to her pussy's 
lips where semen was indeed oozing out and forming a thin stream that 
left unimpeded, would soon trickle down her leg. Renata took a napkin 
and wiped herself unselfconsciously.

Warren smiled for the first time. "I love ya baby," he said with great 
affection. "You're my kind of woman." He opened his robe to reveal his 
semi-hard erection. In Renata's eyes, it was quite formidable.

"Ohhh! May I?" she asked tentatively.

He leaned back in his chair to rest against the railing surrounding the 
terrace. "Be my guest, I'm known to be very generous to my friends."

Renata knelt down, and with one hand swept her hair from her face; the 
other hand grasped his cock, which twitched upon contact.

"Ahhh, look at that, he loves ya baby." Warren reached down as Renata's 
lips closed tightly upon his cockhead, and lay a soft, gentle caress on 
her cheek. Renata purred. Warren wondered if it was brought on by his 
touch or his cock.

"Ohhh, that's good baby. Yesss that's good," he crooned as Renata's 
tongue laved its way up and down his cock which was growing quickly to 
its full size.

"Mmmmmm," she sighed contentedly, recalling the sexual gratification of 
the night just ended.

Changing her position slightly to continue the blowjob from a different 
angle, Renata took the head in her mouth and plunged downward. On the 
upstroke suck, Warren heard a rustling, or whistling sound, as of the 
wind. Had he been that far into her lungs?

"Ummmm," a murmuring sighing sound, this time from Warren as he felt 
himself starting to respond to her ministrations. He reached out and 
tenderly cupped her head in his hands.

"Baby, you're giving me the best head I've ever had."

The fingers of his right hand grazed her cheek and moved slowly across 
Renata's forehead and then to her ear, where he teased her lobe and 
inside her ear in turn. She moaned in pleasure.

Grasping his full-sized cock with both hands, Renata broke off the tight 
suction on his cockhead with a loud, wet pop! Like a limbo dancer, she 
shimmied beneath Warren, and bending backwards, she took one of his 
testicles into her mouth and began tonguing it even as she continued her 
two-handed masturbation.

Warren was amazed at this demonstration. Renata was definitely a keeper. 
He made a mental note not to piss her off as he had with his numerous 
other one-niters.

                                                           The End
You know Celeste's creedo, give the writer a blow job if ya liked 
his/her stuff.
I can be reached at
or visit the website: Pen/index.html

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