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Subject: {FriarDave}JDR"Inger 3"( mF MF mmF anal )[3/5]
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                             JOHN DARK REPOST
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                           =====================
                                (INGER.STY)
                      (Copyright by the author, 1995)
                           =====================

                                   INGER 
                               By Friar Dave
                           Friar_Dave@mhbbs.com

PART THREE

I was eager. Very few women had ever wanted to indulge this particular 
port with me because of the thickness of my penis. My ex-wife had 
never wanted to do it with me. And now, this gorgeous, educated, 
aroused beauty was begging me to hurry! I lubed up my dick copiously 
and arranged myself above her as if I were going to do a pushup. 
Supporting my upper body on one hand, I used the other to guide my 
cock into place. Her rectum was warm and pulsating, puckering outward 
as if kissing my glans.

"Yes!" she hissed.

As carefully and gently as I could, I began pushing down. Her sweet 
asshole stretched wider and wider. I had half the knob in when I 
paused to let her get used to it and to let me savor the flutterings 
of her pretty sphincter.

"Ooohh, yes," Bernice groaned. 

I pushed again, watching in amazement as her asshole spread to take 
the fattest part of my glans -- and then snapped shut on the shaft 
just behind it. The inside of her rectum was very, very hot, and it 
clung to my knob like a shrink-fit tube. I was somewhat surprised at 
the ease with which she'd taken it. Beneath me, her hips were moving 
just the slightest bit as her fingers worked her clit and labia.

"More!"

I pressed into her slowly and inexorably, and she began to whimper. I 
hesitated, thinking she was in discomfort.

"Don't stop!"

I slid in the rest of the way, sheathing my cock in her steaming 
innards. I was panting, myself, trying to maintain some self-control. 
The sensations of her tight anus on the base of my cock, of her round, 
firm ass against my abdomen, were almost too much.

"Oh, that's so good..." she breathed. "Do it hard, now! I want to 
really feel it pounding in me!"

I pulled back slowly till just my tip was inside her -- and then 
plunged back into her, all the way, with a single stroke. Bernice 
struck up a high-pitched keening sound those rose and fell with each 
of my strokes. Her hips were shuddering beneath me, and I could feel 
her sphincter clenching on me as she came, over and over and over. When 
her buttocks tightened against my belly in her orgasms, it just stoked 
my fires. To my amazement, I was going to cum again very soon in her. 
She could tell, too.

"Do it! Fill me with it! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

That did it. With a growl, I plummeted to the base in her hot ass and 
I came, came, came. 

"Yes! It's so hot! YES!" she shrieked, her asshole tightening on my 
dick and milking me. I felt as if I were pouring my insides into her. 
She seemed to feel every drop -- and enjoyed it. Which only made me 
cum all the harder.

By the time -- seemingly hours later -- we'd both come down off the 
rush, we were bathed in sweat and gasping for breath. I bent my head 
down to kiss her, right between her shoulder blades, in a place where 
a pool of perspiration had formed, then rolled us -- still locked -- 
to our sides, with her in my arms. 

"Roger, darling, that was absolutely wonderful."

I kissed the nape of her neck. "It was almost magical for me."

"I wish we could do that all night!"

"So do I," I told her truthfully. "Unfortunately, I'm not a teenager 
any more."

She giggled, which caused her butthole to flex around my now limp 
cock. "Oh, yes, teenage boys. So preposterously vigorous!"

"With you as an inspiration, it's no surprise."

She quieted. I sensed something change in her mood.

"Is something wrong, Bernice?"

"Well, I -- " She paused. "I'd feel odd discussing it at this very 
moment, Roger."

"You don't have to discuss it at all, if you don't want to."

"No, it's something I'll feel better about if I tell you. It's nothing 
awful, but this just isn't the time for it."

"Is it one of those things you like to do that you think might be 
disgusting to me?"

She mulled that for a moment. "Oh, no. Not at all. Hold me closer."

I did, and soon we were dozing. Sometime later, Bernice bestirred 
herself and left the bed -- and my soiled dick. A bit later, she 
returned and I felt a warm, soft cloth on my dick, cleaning it. 

"It's okay," I said softly. "I'm awake. I'll wash it."

"Nothing more to wash," she said softly, putting a soft, dry towel to 
work. My damp flesh began to swell in the cool air. "Now you're all 
kissing clean." She ducked her head down to make her point, kissing my 
knob. Her lips lingered there, then parted and took half of it in, 
giving me a bit of a tongue bath. The swelling increased.

"Oh, my -- a midnight snack!" She made an oval of her lips and slowly 
bobbed her head down and up, taking about a third of my shaft on each 
circuit. In moments, she had my cock rock-hard and throbbing.

She pulled her mouth off me with a soft Pop!

"I want you to give me another nice, big tasty load to swallow."

For a moment, I could only stare at her in the dim illumination. Her 
hair was a disheveled glory around her flushed face, and her nipples 
were quite swollen atop her distended breasts. 

"Wait," I croaked. "I want to do you first. I want to lick and suck 
your beautiful little pussy until you can't stop cumming."

Her lips parted.

"I want you to just lay back," I said, leading her up onto the bed, 
"and let me pamper you." I eased her back onto the bed. "I want to 
bury my face between your legs," I said, as I crawled into position 
and lowered myself between her widespread thighs, "and try to breathe 
through my ears."

"Oh, my," she breathed.

"If you don't mind, that is." And with that, I cupped her round, firm 
buttocks in my hands and began licking.

Bernice was nothing if not responsive. I reveled in her taste. I 
licked her thighs, hips, abdomen and mons. I tongued her labia majora 
and labia minora and the moist bud of her clitoris. I thrust my mouth 
muscle into her cunt -- as much as I could -- savoring her moans and 
grunting and whines, reveling in the taste and scent of her mature, 
healthy juices. I really get into pussy licking; With Bernice I had a 
gourmet's feast. 

I brought one hand around and gently began prying my finger into her 
pussy. She was extremely small down there, and as wet as she was, it 
was obviously not too comfortable for her. So I was pleased to oblige 
when, through movements of her hips, she made it clear she wanted my 
finger to go in someplace else. I gently slid my fingertip, lubed with 
her juice, into her ass. And she came -- bam! Just like that.

As she came down off the high, I continued gently licking her with the 
tip of my tongue -- and then felt something fall on the bed near my 
free hand: the tube of lube. I can take a hint. I greased up another 
finger and slid it up her ass next to the first. She groaned and shook 
and came some more. In fact, she said exactly that:

"More! Oh, yes, more!"

I inadvertently squeezed a huge dollop of lube onto my hand, but I 
didn't bother trying to wipe it off. Instead, as I lay between her 
legs eating her like mad, I slid a third finger up her butt.

Bernice was groaning and churning her hips down, welcoming my fingers 
up her ass. I wanted to see how much she could take, so I squeezed my 
pinky into her asshole.

In seconds, Bernice was cumming almost nonstop, grinding down on my 
fingers right to the fattest part of my hand, and still she demanded-- 

"More! Oh, don't stop now! Give me it all!"

All? 

I'd read about such, but it never seemed credible to me. Still, I was 
not about to stop at that point. I folded my thumb across my palm and 
began pushing and turning my hand. To my utter and absolute 
astonishment, Bernice was pushing right back, trying mightily to 
engulf it -- and bit by seemingly torturous bit, she succeeded. Her 
cunt was absolutely overflowing as the widest part of my hand slid 
into her ass and her sphincter slipped over my wrist.

Bernice was thrashing and gasping wildly, her mons hitting my front 
teeth and nose. I raised my face from between her legs -- in self-
defense.

"YES!" she screamed. "YES!"

Still exploring, I pushed my hand deeper. She went wild. I pulled it 
back till it was hung up inside her awesomely stretched butt-hole. She 
shrieked with pleasure. I carefully folded my fingers under, making a 
fist, and twisted my hand slowly. Bernice heaved and bucked like a 
puppet. I basted more of the lube, this time on my wrist and forearm, 
and pushed deeper. Bernice rolled onto her face around the axle of my 
hand and wrist, and she screamed into the pillow -- and pushed her ass 
up at me for more. 

I pushed deeper. It felt like my hand was moving in a rubber tube. 
Halfway to my elbow I stopped and stared down. I couldn't believe she 
had half my arm up her ass -- and was cumming so madly! I pumped 
slowly back and forth, Bernice rocking with my slow-motion punching 
movements. This was turning me on so much, I felt as if I were going 
to spurt just from the sight. 

I speeded up just a bit and added a twist to the movement. Bernice 
came harder and harder -- and then she went pretty much rigid for a 
moment, her sphincter tightening till the circulation was cut off in 
my arm and hand...and then she collapsed to the bed, sobbing and 
gasping.

I carefully, slowly, extricated my forearm amd wrist from her bowels, 
pulling back till just my hand was in her. I uncurled my fingers slowly 
and gently, then wiggled my hand back and forth, trying to get it out of 
her. At first, it didn't seem like it was going to come out. I had some 
pretty awful visions of explaining the problem to a 911 operator. 

Then, finally, my hand began coming out of her butt. Once the widest 
part was through, it was a pretty straightforward matter to complete 
the operation.

Much to my surprise, my arm was not nearly as soiled as I'd expected 
to be. In fact, except for a few spots around my knuckles and 
fingertips, I was pretty largely unmarked -- but fragrant, to be sure. 

I stood, my dick still as hard as blue steel. "Don't go away," I 
whispered. She was basically motionless, but wiggled her fingers 
toward me. I found my way into the bathroom and washed quickly, then 
returned with a towel, which I used to wipe down her lovely ass. I 
half expected her rectum to be gaping, but it had almost completely 
closed again.

I lay down and pulled her into my arms, spoon style. 

"You must think me awful," she whispered, still a bit breathless.

"I think you're amazing -- you make me as horny as hell."

"Mmmmmm...." She wiggled her buttocks against my erection. "Have you 
ever done that before?"

"Never," I answered, truthfully. "But I want to do it again."

"It makes me cum so much," she whispered. "Sometimes I cum so much it 
scares me. I think I must be some kind of freak slut to enjoy 
something so perverted so much."

"It isn't hurting anyone, so there's nothing wrong with it in my book. 
It made me terribly excited."

She clenched her buttocks around my rigid prick. "I can tell. Now, 
will you feed me?"

She was too zonked to take an active role, so I obligingly knelt with 
my prick presented to her face. She wrapped her lips around my shaft 
an inch or so behind my glans. Her tongue rasped the underside of my 
knob and shaft, and she sucked mightily. I felt the pressure building. 

She pulled her lips off my prick and looked up at me. "I want you to -- to 
jack it while I suck."

I groaned. She re-engulfed my knob, and I groaned again -- and 
complied. I gripped my shaft with the same hand that had been up her 
ass and pumped urgently. I saw her nipples harden and felt her tongue 
flicker. When I came, I spewed into her welcoming mouth with a single 
long spurt that seemed unnaturally copious; I ascribed it to my 
prolonged arousal. She had one hand between her legs, fingering herself, 
and when I erupted into her mouth, her hips shook as her own orgasm 
rocked her.

Finally, we held each other. I was on my back with her atop me, her 
lovely breasts crushed against me, her head on my chest, her thighs 
parted and her sweet cunt drooling on me. Somehow, after all we'd just 
done together, after all the amazing pleasures we'd just shared, this 
was the best -- the perfect capper.

Bill Speaks:

Dad was kind of funny when he came in. Inger and I were eating 
breakfast. He smiled and said 'Good morning," and then he excused 
himself. Of course, considering it was nine in the morning, we all 
knew there was no hiding that Dad had gotten lucky. What was funny 
was that he was more relaxed than I could remember him being in a 
long time, and he seemed kind of bushed, too. But he seemed to have 
a little more energy at the same time. 

We went to the Intrepid Air & Space Museum in the afternoon, and we 
saw a genuine SR-71. I had no idea they were so big! On the way home, 
we stopped into Blockbuster for some videos, then we bought food. The 
sidewalks were getting slippery because it was snowing again. We 
decided to cook for ourselves, so I chopped up veggies for a salad 
while Dad set up the Jenn-Air for a couple of steaks and baked 
potatoes. That was when we started to talk about it.

"I guess you figured out about Bernice and me."

"Bernice? You know, I never knew her first name. So you guys are...an 
item?"

He shrugged, which I saw without turning to look at him. He was 
suddenly very concentrated on trimming the steaks. "I think so. I hope 
so."

"You seem a lot mellower than you have been in a long time," I told 
him. "And I'm glad."

He turned to me. "Really? I mean, you had sort of a thing for her for 
a long time..."

"That was different, Dad. That was when she was just, like, out there, 
not really a person. Now she's like real because you and her -- you 
know."

He thought that over for a second. "Yeah, I guess so. She was a 
fantasy; now she's a person."

"Something like that."

He went back to trimming the meat while I was thinking: Besides, Dad, 
I've got Inger.

After dinner, we watched "True Lies" and "Naked Gun 33 1/3." By then, it 
was snowing too hard to go out for the papers, so we sacked it. There 
were six inches on the ground the next morning, and Dad was still 
sleeping, so I went out and got the papers and OJ and bagels and 
surprised him. I like doing stuff like that for Dad -- nice surprises, 
I mean. We read the papers and then Dad sat down to read one of his 
science fiction novels while I wrote my obligatory weekly letter to my 
mother, who has written back maybe three times in two years. (Thanks, 
Mom.) That didn't matter to Dad, though; he said that it was important 
for me to remember that she's my mother, and someday I'd be glad I'd 
made the effort. I suppose.

Anyhow, when that was done, Dad said it was okay for me to meet Ian to 
watch the street guys play basketball over on Sixth Avenue, but I had 
to be back by six. I told him I'd be back by five, 'cause I wanted to 
get cracking on my algebra in time to watch "Die Hard II" on the 
Sunday night movie. I called Ian, and we agreed to meet in front of the 
Waverly movie house. There was a line of people waiting to see "Pulp 
Fiction," and I saw Ian chatting up two girls waiting on the line. 
Ian's big for his age, and he's a good-looking guy and has a trail of 
shit a mile long. He really likes practicing his lines on girls, 
because a lot of times they think he's older, like 15 or 16, and he 
likes to see how far he can play the string.

"Oh, who's your little friend?" one of them asked when I came up to 
him.

"I'm his son," I said. We high-fived and booked.

When we got across Sixth, to where the big guys were playing, Ian told 
me he thought he might have gotten some from one of them, the 
brunette. He said, "She was really coming on to me."

I asked him what he was going to do -- sneak her into his room? He 
said maybe he could have gotten to her place with her. I told him he 
should use a lubricant when he did that to himself. 

There was a really good game going in the park, and it was hard to get 
close enough to see, but we managed, and it was worth it. Some of 
those guys are really good, and sometimes pros from the NBA come down 
and play. I love basketball. I've seen "Hoop Dreams" four times.

My watch alarm went off at 10 to five, so I told Ian I had to get 
going. He wanted to know what the rush was and I told him I had to 
study, etc. 

"Man, you're really turning into a bookworm."

"Well, Inger is helping me with my math, but I have to study up."

I didn't tell him about the reward system. He probably wouldn't have 
believed me, anyhow. I wasn't sure I could believe it.

Roger Again:

It's awfully nice of Inger to cover for me on such short notice all 
the time. I'm going to have to do something special for her to show my 
appreciation. 

I sure showed my appreciation to Bernice last night. I'm beginning to 
wonder if I'm going through my second adolescence. The woman just 
turns me on so much -- !

Yesterday -- a Wednesday -- she called me at three-thirty and asked if 
we could get together. Inger was amenable, and I was more than 
willing, since Bernice said she had bought something and couldn't wait 
to see if I liked it on her. 

When I got to her place, she asked me to close my eyes before she 
opened the door. Sure. I heard the door open, and she led me by the 
hand inside. With my eyes still closed, she took off my coat and had 
me sit on her couch. Only then could I open my eyes.

The only light in the room was the torchiere off to one side, and it 
was at its lowest setting. Before me was a vision.

Bernice was sort of wearing a white silk camisole and matching french 
cut bikini panties and white fishnet stockings and garters and a pair 
of white heels. She had her hair brushed out and pulled back. Her face 
was flushed and slightly anxious, and she kept licking her lips, a 
little nervously. I could smell a light scent of perfume. The camisole 
hugged her breasts jealously, and her swollen nipples were almost 
visible through the material. The light hitting her from the side 
created the most wonderful highlight effects, gleaming brightly off 
the white silk where it clung to her curves and emphasizing them by 
the contrast with the shadowy area where the material hung loosely. 

"How do you l-l-like it?" she asked.

I tried to speak but only a groan came out at first.

She frowned.

I pointed to my pants, where my penis had hardened and was bulging. 
"What do you think?"

She flushed bright red and smiled gloriously. "Oh, Roger, I'm so glad 
you like it!"

"You're so gorgeous and sexy -- you make me feel like a kid!"

"I love dressing like this," she said softly, slowly moving toward me 
with exaggerated swings of her hips. "It excites me, makes me so 
hungry to -- to -- everything!"

She stopped in front of me, her breasts right at eye -- and mouth -- 
level in front of me. I brought my hands up, slowly, lightly, over her 
thighs and hips and then over the camisole. I ran my palms and fingers 
over the silk covering her breasts and she moaned.

"I've got to taste you," she breathed, and slowly sank to her knees 
before me. Her fingers made short work of my trousers and then she 
pulled the waist band of my Jockeys down to let my aching erection 
spring free. A little pre-cum was already drooling from it. "Yes!" she 
gasped and then began sucking me.

I was ready to cum quickly and told her so. She moaned loudly around 
my prick and sucked and licked all the more eagerly. Her hand was 
skimming my shaft urgently. She reached up with her other hand and 
guided my fingers to my cock. I knew what she wanted and took over the 
stroking. She put her own hands to other uses, rubbing the silk back 
and forth over her nipples and toying with her pussy inside her 
panties.

When I came, spraying my semen into her welcoming mouth, she was 
cumming, too, on her fingers. Knowing how much this turned her on only 
added to my excitement. When we had both recovered our breath, and I 
held her in my arms on the couch, I told her so.

"You're like a fantasy come true for me. And what we just did -- that 
has always been a fantasy of mine."

She kissed me. I could taste a bit of my own tang on her lips and 
tongue. "And mine," she said. "My husband always said those things 
were a waste of time and money. He always said I was too sexy to cover 
up, but he never understood how much I enjoyed dressing like that. He 
called it a `puerile high-school boy's turn-on dream.'"

"Maybe it is," I told her. "And maybe I just never outgrew it."

"I'm so happy that you understand..."

"I must admit, I'm a little surprised that you couldn't wait to let me 
enjoy this with you," I told her. 

"They were delivered last night," she explained, snuggling into me and 
idly toying with my limp member. "And all day today, I kept thinking 
about how good it would feel to dress up and do this."

"If the boys in your classroom only knew!"

She blushed and nuzzled her head against my shoulder. "I thought of 
that, too -- about puerile fantasies -- and...There's something I have 
to tell you, Roger."

"You fantasize about dressing up for a room full of teenage boys?"

I felt her nod. She took a deep breath. "It's a fantasy that cost me 
my last job and my marriage."

I was confused. "I don't understand. Please tell me."

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes. I care too much for you, Bernice, to let anything separate us."

[more]

================================================================
More in a coupla-three days. All comments and criticisms are    
very welcome via Email or in public posts, but posts should     
only be made in alt.sex.story. DISCUSS -- not here. Please don't
ask me to Email or repost missed segments. The folks providing  
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a big, well-funded institution.                                 
================================================================
                                                                
=============================================================== 
This is an original story from a caller to The Abbey, part of   
MHBBS (212-683-1448). Feel free to repost it as is, without     
editing or changing anything in it, including this tag. For     
information about The Abbey, a spam-free place for writers and  
readers of adult material to gather, email Friar_Dave@mhbbs.com 
or call MHBBS at 212-683-1448 and leave a note for the Sysop or 
me.                                                             
================================================================

                           =====================
                                   INGER 
                               By Friar Dave
                                PART THREE
                                   -30-


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