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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please
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Reawakening
By Marklemagne (marklemagne@canada.com)
***
Deb and Bill in the laundry room. (MF, oral, cons, rom)
***
A free press must be used responsibly. If you shouldn't
read this story because it might make you feel strange
and want to do things that mom and dad and pastor said
are wrong, then stop reading. This is a true story. No,
really it is. Some, but not all, of the names have been
changed.
This is one in a series of sexual adventures of people
I know. It did not happen to me, although I wish it
had. My avocation is to get people to tell me true
sexual escapades then convert them into these stories.
I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcome at
marklemagne@canada.com. You can save a copy of this for
your off-line enjoyment and repost it, as long as you
give me credit and don't charge people to read it.
Tony had only been dead about five months, but Deb felt
like it had been a lifetime since she had shared
anything remotely intimate with anyone. And those last
few months, as the cancer took its toll on Tony, there
was no way he could make love to her as they once
did... a million light-years away and several eons in
the past.
She hadn't missed the sex then, her mind was filled
with sorrow even before Tony died and there was no room
and no time for such trivial things like sex when they
had to fit a lifetime of living into a few short weeks.
At 34, Deb was too young to be a widow, but she was.
Tony's cancer tore through their lives like a tornado,
leaving rubble and destruction in its wake and leaving
Deb alone to care for Claire and Ryan.
This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, she told
herself over and over. This doesn't really happen; it's
like a bad made-for-TV movie. But it had happened, and
Tony had died and was buried next to his grandparents
under a 200-year-old oak tree in Deepdale Cemetery. And
Deb was alone with the children. No skills...a stay-at-
home mom...alone.
Sure, there was the insurance. Tony had been a
municipal worker, so he had decent benefits and
Harrisburg was small enough that even the mayor had
come to the funeral and promised to take care of Deb
and the kids. She was getting by on his insurance money
and going to the local community college where she was
working toward an associate's degree in accounting.
Five months.
She brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes and
looked out through the kitchen window. Claire and Ryan
were playing on the swing-set with Bill Duncan, a co-
worker of Tony's who had been helping her rake the
leaves that had left a knee-deep carpet of brilliant
red and yellow and brown on the lawn. Bill had been
coming around more often than any of Tony's other
coworkers and Deb appreciated the help he provided.
He was good with the children and he didn't hesitate to
work around the house, unlike some of the others who
merely stopped by to drink a beer and hint around at
giving Deb a little of what she had been missing. No
one was so brazen as to make a pass at her, of course.
But the men who came by to fix the roof or to roto-till
the garden looked at Deb with an eye that was not just
a little lecherous. There was something about a young
widow with small children alone in that big house that
made their hearts beat a little faster and their balls
get heavier between their legs and their cocks stir in
their pants.
It was a primeval drive that made them want to come
into her home, take control and feel her submit to
them. She was safe in her home; the drive these men
felt was not one of conscious lust, but rather
something deep within them that had been hard-wired
into their psyche. But Bill was different. He was
married...no children. He was warm and open and honest
with Deb and he knew that she wasn't in need of a
guardian angel or a knight in shining armor.
She needed a strong back and someone with a pick-up
truck who was willing to haul two cords of firewood.
Bill knew this and he played the part perfectly. He
didn't spend too much time alone with Deb, lest the
neighbors begin to talk, and yet he always seemed to
sense when something needed to be done around the
house. Two years older than Deb, Bill wasn't handsome,
but he wasn't homely either. His hair was thick dark
brown and it tended to become too long overnight.
He stood about six feet tall and was toned from working
in the maintenance shed at the county garage. His hands
were rough and Deb thought that his fingers looked like
a pianist's. Bill was the kind of man who was cursed
with whiskers that were heavy enough to require a daily
shave, but not full enough that he could ever grow a
decent beard.
Deb had skin that was a luxurious blend of ivory and
cream and was so smooth to the touch that it felt like
velvet. Her sparkling blue eyes shone paler than the
sapphires, and well, to put it bluntly, her full red
lips were the kind she and her girlfriends referred to
as "blow job" lips. She always managed to have a warm
red glow on her cheeks, and one of the few luxuries she
insisted on giving herself was a weekly trip to the
nail salon to have her manicure. The nails stood like
exclamation points at the end of her small, soft hands.
"Mom-meeee!"
Claire slammed through the screen door, her mittens
flapping behind her like twin kite-tails. She yelled
again. "Mah-mee!"
"I'm right here," Deb replied. "No need to scream."
"Mom, can we have some hot chocolate, pleeeeze?" The
little girl, her visage a magical combination of her
father's face and her mother's eyes, leaned into her
mother's legs and looked straight up at her, wrapping
her arms around Deb's thighs. "Why certainly, darling,"
Deb replied. She turned to the pantry and took out the
cocoa mix. "Where is Ryan?"
"He and Bill are putting the rakes in the shed."
Claire was six years old and Ryan was eighteen months
younger. Deb and her sister shared one thing in common.
All their husbands had to do was look at them cross-
eyed and they got pregnant. Tony and Deb had decided to
start trying to have a child when Deb learned she was
already pregnant, and she had just started back to work
part-time in a job she loved, when she found out she
was pregnant with Ryan.
As Deb put a saucepan of milk on the burner to warm for
cocoa, Bill and Ryan came stomping through the back
door. Ryan, like most small boys, was providing his own
soundtrack for life. He was incapable of moving from
one room to the next without some sort of "woosh" or
other emotive noise. Deb thought she probably said
"stop exploding!" a thousand times a day to Ryan.
"Mama, put on a video," Ryan asked, dumping his coat on
the kitchen floor.
"Put on a video, PLEASE," Deb replied. "And pick up
your coat. That's not where it belongs."
"Please," Ryan said. And he wooshed out of the kitchen
into the den. Bill laughed and followed Ryan out,
saying that he would take care of the videotape. The
cocoa was ready by the time Bill returned to the
kitchen and Deb handed two cups to Claire. "There's one
for you and one for your brother," she said. "I'm not
his servant," Claire snorted.
"No, you're not. But take it to him anyway," Deb said.
Claire left the room and Bill and Deb were alone. There
was an awkward pause and then Deb asked him "How is
Anne?" Anne was Bill's wife. She was younger than Deb
and Bill by three years. The marriage wasn't
necessarily a happy one, but there was little inertia
and no motivation to do anything about it.
Anne and Bill got along, but they had long ago stopped
really loving each other they way they had back when
they were married. They lived somewhat separate lives;
she was plowing her energy into her career and he was
getting by as best he could. "Anne is fine," he said,
shrugging his shoulders. "She's working."
Deb was taking dishes out of the dishwasher and putting
them away. Bill would occasionally take a plate or
glass out and help her. It was clear that he didn't
want to leave, but he didn't know how to ask if he
could stay. She didn't want him to go, anyway. There
was some kind of charge in the air, and Deb could feel
her pulse thudding away in her chest.
Bill stood behind Deb and leaned against the counter.
She had her back to him and he took the opportunity to
look over her body. She was wearing an off-white wool
sweater and olive drab cargo pants; her sleeves were
pushed up over her elbows and her hair was pulled back
and fastened into a ponytail with a rubberband.
Bill liked the way Deb's ass filled out the cargo
pants. There was just a hint of a panty line (which he
thought was way sexy) and a clear delineation of where
her cheeks met the backs of her thighs. Her sweater was
loose, but Deb's breasts were large enough to push the
sides of the sweater out.
She wasn't overly large, but she wasn't small either.
She had managed to keep somewhat in shape after having
two children, but Deb would never again be centerfold
material. Not that that mattered to Bill. He knew he
didn't rival Brad Pitt or a soap star, and he didn't
expect his women to be supermodels, either.
There was something incredibly sexy and beautiful about
this woman, he thought. She's smart, funny, strong...
He felt a stirring in his pants and unsuccessfully
willed himself not to get hard. "Oh, shit," he thought
to himself. "Not now."
His tumescence was barely noticeable through his jeans,
but to him it felt huge. He wasn't fully erect, it was
merely an increased firmness which extended his cock
downward and drew his balls tighter in his crotch. It
was not an unpleasant feeling, in fact he welcomed it.
It had been a long time since a woman had made him
excited in this way.
Usually he required a bit of porn - mostly sex stories
or scenes from direct-to-video "erotic thrillers" to
stimulate himself. Anne was a good, patient lover, but
she was always so tired coming home from the city that
their sex life had dwindled to a few times a month - if
that. Mostly he resorted to jerking off to satisfy his
urges.
Sometimes, he admitted to himself, he fantasized about
Deb. She turned around and started toward him, looking
into his eyes with a sweet smile. Deb got near to him
and reached past his left ear toward a cupboard. Trying
to get out of her way, Bill dodged to his left, then to
his right and took a step forward. This placed him
closer to her and as she reached around him, her hip
brushed his groin.
Something that felt like a spark shot up Bill's mild
erection and flooded his loins with warmth. For his
penis, there was no going back now and immediately the
slightly firm organ filled with even more desire and
stiffened. Deb felt the spark, too. There was no
mistaking his erection for anything other than sexual
desire and immediately her nipples became erect and
rubbed in pleasant discomfort against the satin of her
bra.
Her heart rate jumped and she unconsciously licked her
lips. It had been so long since there had been anything
other than the maternal closeness she felt for her
children. Suddenly, she wanted tenderness, and she
wanted to be touched. Deb wanted to be needed and she
was thrilled by the idea that someone out there found a
34-year-old widow with two children desirable.
Placing the dish in the cupboard, Deb withdrew her
hand. But the dish wasn't seated properly and it
started to slip out of the cupboard. She leaned forward
to grab it, pushed it back into place and felt Bill's
erection once again against her hip. As she lurched to
catch the dish, her breasts pushed into Bill's chest
and together, they felt the hard tips. An embarrassed
laugh escaped from both of them simultaneously as they
were sure the other could feel their desire.
A power guided Deb's free hand forward and she placed
it on Bill's taut stomach. It moved there almost of its
own will; under ordinary conditions she never would
have been so forward. Something deep inside her wanted
the contact, and she let it take control of her. "You
have very nice fingers," Bill said to her, looking down
at the hand on his stomach.
She laughed and didn't know what to say. Bill, feeling
the same power as Deb, took her hand in his own and
held it softly. "I have always liked red fingernail
polish," he went on. "It's very sexy."
Deb looked up at him and smiled, her face becoming even
more flushed with desire. She licked her lips again,
and Bill, acting so unlike himself, took this as an
invitation to kiss her. It was an invitation and Deb
welcomed the kiss. It was chaste; Bill didn't want to
move any faster than she would let him and he was
frantic that she would stop this wonderful moment.
Soon, he felt her lips move beneath his and felt her
tongue on his lips. He opened his mouth slightly,
thanking the heavens he had eaten that Life Saver while
raking, and admitted her tongue into his warm mouth.
She thought he tasted delicious and his not-too-wet
tongue was just rough enough to spur on her desire. The
two lovers broke apart for a moment, long enough to
rearrange themselves so that Deb's leg fit between
Bill's and she could feel his growing desire. Her hand
moved on his stomach as she leaned back into him for
another kiss. As their lips touched and his tongue
extended, her hand moved down over his belt buckle and
continued down the front of his jeans.
This was remarkable, she thought. She was rarely the
aggressive one in sex play, even though she loved
physical intimacy. Clearly the months of being alone
were driving her on. Her hand felt his hard cock
through the pants and she moved her fingers up and down
the rough fabric, feeling the penis jump beneath her
touch. Bill moaned into her mouth.
"Come in here," she said, breaking away from him. Deb
grabbed Bill by the belt buckle with both hands and
pulled him into the nearby laundry room. Tilting his
head downward to kiss her again, he pulled the sliding
door shut and leaned back against the washer. Once the
door was shut, Bill moved his hands up the front of
Deb's wool sweater and felt the swell of her breasts
beneath his fingers. They were bigger than Anne's and
he marveled at their delicious firmness. There was
nothing that compared to the indescribable feeling of a
woman's breast beneath his hand, Bill thought and he
began to feel the painful confinement of his cock.
"Mmmmm," Deb moaned into his mouth as their tongues
danced. She leaned further into him, pushing her
breasts hard into his grasp. "Oh, Bill." She looked up
at him, her eyes shining with mischief. Without taking
her eyes off his, Deb unbuckled his pants and unsnapped
the jeans.
She fumbled for the zipper and once open, gently eased
her hand inside to feel his cock through the cotton of
his underpants. He was so hard, she thought, and he's
hard because of me. His cock was more than six inches
long and wider around than a decent bratwurst. The head
was still spongy and she enjoyed the way his balls
moved under the tips of her fingers.
Her ministrations were clearly having an effect on him
as his legs turned to rubber. Looking down for the
first time, she pulled his jeans down so they rested
just above his knees. His white jockeys were tented out
in front from his erection. She pulled her hand away
and placed the fingers of both hands on the waistband
of his shorts.
He gasped as she pulled the waistband out and around
his cock, which waved like a flagpole in front of him.
Exposed to the cool air, the head remained spongy, even
after she pulled the underpants down to join his jeans.
With her index finger and thumb, she gently took his
cock in her hand, and slid her fingers down its length
until her little finger rested in his black, wiry pubic
hair. She placed her other fingers gently on his penis
and stroked back up, bringing her other hand down to
cup his balls. Bill swooned beneath her touch.
Up and down, she moved her hand, all the time gently
rolling his balls in her other hand. Her index finger
slipped underneath his sack to rub his peritoneum and
she noticed how heavy his balls felt in her palm. She
gradually increased both the friction and the pace of
her strokes as they kissed.
Bill was kneading her breasts through her sweater and
he pulled his hands away and slid them underneath the
wool, up her stomach until he felt the fabric of her
bra. He pulled the sweater up further and they broke
apart as he took it off over her head. She was wearing
a white, plunge clip-in-front bra and he struggled with
the clip. She took his hands away and said, "I don't
want to take it off, OK?"
"Sure, whatever you want," he replied breathlessly and
returned to stroking her soft mounds through the silky
fabric. "Hop up here," Deb said, tapping the washer.
Bill jumped up and landed on the icy metal top. The
cold was shocking in comparison to Deb's warmth and she
noticed the goosebumps, which appeared on his thighs.
She wanted to take this further, but she didn't want
her first time making love with another man to be
interrupted by the children. Instead, Deb leaned down
and gently licked the head of Bill's cock, now hard and
shiny with desire.
This was only the second man she had ever been with, so
she was immediately struck with how different Bill's
penis felt in her mouth. It was thicker than Tony's.
With her hand around the base, she licked around the
head of the cock and felt it moving beneath her touch.
Tilting her head to the side, she licked down one side
of the shaft and then back up the other. Bill was
moaning as he tried to figure out what to do with his
hands.
He didn't want to put them on her head, lest she gag or
feel trapped, so he put them down on the washer and
leaned back a bit. She engulfed his cock and took as
much of it into her mouth as she could, then pulled
back, sucking gently. When she got to the head, she
licked it and gave his shaft a stroke with her hand.
Repeating the process, Deb felt the cock growing even
harder in her mouth and she felt his head get taut. A
saltiness overwhelmed her taste buds, and she
recognized it as his precum.
Deb licked the slit and was rewarded with a tiny
globule of clear fluid which she stretched with her
tongue. Bill saw the string stretch from his cock to
her tongue for an instant before she plunged down once
again and swallowed. He could feel her warm saliva on
his penis, not too wet, but just enough to coat his
cock and make it a little slippery. Deb began moving
her head up and down, making quiet mewling noises of
pleasure.
Bill matched her sounds with his own sounds of
enjoyment and looked down as this beautiful woman
sucked his cock. As his fluid began to flow more
freely, Deb picked up the pace of her sucking and
stroking. He was getting close now and he wasn't sure
what he should do. Anne would only let him ejaculate
in her mouth if they were in the shower together and it
had been close to a year since that had happened. Under
no circumstances would she ever swallow his semen. "Oh,
Deb..." Bill started. "Deb, I'm gonna cum..."
Deb moaned in reply, and increased the friction and
pace yet again.
"Deb," he said again. "I'm gonna cum soon."
She drew his cock out of her mouth so just the head
remained inside. "So, go ahead and cum," she replied
and returned to sucking.
Oh my god, he thought. She's gonna let me cum in her
mouth. The thought of this forbidden pleasure drove him
over the top and with a groan he began shooting his
load. Deb felt the penis jump and the muscles pumping
his ejaculate up from his balls. The first blast hit
the back of Deb's tongue and her mouth was immediately
flooded with the taste of semen, salty and warm. The
next shot struck the roof of her mouth and she stifled
her gag reflex as it flowed down her throat. She wasn't
too fond of swallowing, but it wasn't the worst thing
in the world, she thought.
A final large blast followed the first two and joined
the remnants of his cum in a small pool on her tongue.
She closed her eyes and swallowed quickly, before the
taste and texture became too much. Even after the semen
was gone, she could still taste it and feel a little
bit on her tongue. She pulled his softening cock out of
her mouth, licked it once for good measure and stood
up. "How was that," she purred.
"Oh, man. That was great," Bill replied. "Thank you.
But what can I do for you?"
Deb leaned into Bill's arms and kissed him, deeply. She
knew he got a little taste of himself from her tongue
and she was silently pleased that he didn't recoil.
"Bill, you've already done a lot for me," she said
after they broke apart.
"But..." he started.
"I got a lot of satisfaction out of being desired," she
said.
"I'm not ready for anything more than that, and neither
are you."
Bill stood up and fixed his clothing.
"You're right," he said, somewhat sadly. "But this
isn't the end of anything is it?"
She smiled warmly at the man who had helped rekindle
something she thought was gone forever. "Of course not,
it's only the beginning," she said.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 33