Dolly's Story

Discussion in 'Erotic Literature' started by oldkid, Oct 19, 2013.

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Did this turn you on at all?

  1. I am 18 - 30 years old. Yes No

    50.0%
  2. I am 31 - 45 years old

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  3. I am 46 or older

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  4. What is your gender?

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Multiple votes are allowed.
  1. oldkid

    Guest

    This is but one chapter of a novella I started a couple of month ago. Critiques are welcome. Possible title is "SIREN SONG"


    DOLLY
    I live with one of my best friends of the female gender, Dee Dee, last name I won’t reveal, In a one bed walkup on the west side. We share a king sized waterbed, but I make sure everybody knows, I’m not Dee Dee’s partner, and I’m not a lesbian. To tell the whole truth, I did try it once with Dee Dee when we first moved in together, thought it was fun, interesting, educational, but not for me. A nice firm cock beats a dildo or a vibrator any time. When I want a vibrator, I borrow Dee Dee’s small one with the vibrating ball on the end. It’s a fun way to relaxe and break the tension. Dee Dee used to like to watch at first, when we first started to share a pad. It’s pretty much uninhibited, a good thing, because a one bedroom doesn’t afford a lot of privacy. Now Dee Dee is a dyed-in-the-wool les by preference, with a little twist. Once every month, about a week before she started her period, she wanted a man. She wouldn’t settle for just any man, however, he had to meet certain specifications, openly announced to any prospective suitor. First and most important, she wanted to see his cock, erect. If the hardware passed inspection, she demanded he loved to give head, or as a minimum, he was good at it. Color to her was no problem, but he usually ended up being black. She explained the cock inspection like this: “If he’s got a large diameter penis, he’s going to stretch me out, and I ain’t going through life with a slack pussy. I don’t allow anything longer than seven or eight inches.” If you asked her if she measured, she’d say, “if it goes down my throat, it’s too long. I still have to breathe, don’t I. And anyway, if he’s big, he’s gonna be so proud of it, he’ll stuff it in, jack off in me, zip up and be gone in a flash, to hell with me getting’off.”
    I’m Dolly Clayborne, all grown up GI brat, born to a dark brown skinned Peurto Rican woman who was all mouth, and I hated her. I don’t hate her any more ‘cause she died last year. She died alone, from a heart arrhythmia brought on by a love for nose candy. She divorced my father the last time he went overseas to Hawaii. He’d been there before, but never invited me or mom to visit. In my youth, I had natural glossy, wavy hair down to my shoulders. Any more length just got in my way, and was too hard to take care of. I stand five foot, six, with a slender athletic build, and the kind of booty men can’t resist patting or grabbing.
    As to my preferences in men and sex, I love ‘em all, dark, light, yellow, sometimes I don’t even notice their skin. And it’s not true that black men have big cocks while Chinese men generally have smaller, but they usually were more knowledgeable about the inner workings of a woman’s body, and used what they had to greater effect. White men as a general rule want me to talk about me, rather than them. That’s OK with me, but, I once dated a blonde guy, that for the first half hour of our date, I thought he was mute. He had to have a drink to relax, then his shyness went away.
    Dee Dee worked as daytime bartender at the airport, while I cleaned offices for a maintenance service from six until two. Neither one was going to get rich at our jobs, but we always paid our rent on time, and we didn’t need food stamps. We would have liked a booze stamps, however. Because we worked different shifts, it seemed one of us was coming or going all the time. It was easy for us five days a week, to have a friend up, and not bother the other with the noises coming from the bedroom. Sheets didn’t last long at Dolly and Dee Dees, both of us being sticklers for throwing the current set in the washer as soon as our man was gone.
    Dolly had one exception to her regular sex partners that was rather strange. Occasionally, she had a 16 year old high schooler up for a brief cunnilingus session on a week-day. It was always when he was on his way home from football practice, so he seldom showed up before I left for work. Once, however, while I was home for a couple of days with a broken wrist, Dee Dee invited him over without letting me know. I happened to be asleep when she let him in and didn’t hear anything in the apartment as I got up to go pee. There was Dee Dee, on the kitchen counter, legs draped over Woody’s shoulders, mouth wide open gasping quietly, surely about to cum. She didn’t know I was there, at first, Woody’s tongue buried in her glory hole. As she slowly opened her eyes after she finished, she stared directly into my eyes and in a serious husky voice, said, “You better get some of this. Share and share alike, huh.“
    I’d been afraid of getting involved with this underaged woman pleaser, because of his age. He turned quickly around toward me, and I saw he had a little thin, boy’s mustache, that threatened to make me laugh at him. “There you are. I didn’t know you were here.”
    “Hi, nice to meet you”, I said, turning a kitchen chair around, and sitting down.
    “Same here. How about it, can I smooth out some of your kinks? Doesn’t hurt, and costs you nothing. Dee Dee trusts me.”
    Before I could answer, he was kneeling at my feet, quickly lifting my nighty, and plastering his face against my thighs, recklessly tempting me with his tongue between them. He must have had an extra long tongue, because I could feel the tip finding the most tender part, sending electric pulses from my crotch to my brain. It was difficult to resist, but as his intelligent tongue worked mercilessly at the hignest part of my thighs, quickly jumping to my now naked belly. I knew I shouldn’t, but my brain kept whispering, “don’t be a spoil sport”, and knowing I was hooked, looked at Dee Dee, still sitting on the countertop, watching with great anticipation, spread my legs far enough apart to accommodate his head, and surrendered a small part of my cunt to his administrations. From my position sitting on the kitchen chair, Woody could only reach my clit and the hood around it. I slid down a little, where he could get between my quickly heating up, outer lips.
    Woody charged me at that junction for two or three minutes, with me trying to get further down, when he suddenly stood up, caught both my hands and said, “C’mon, Dolly.”
    I cautiously stood, looked quizzically at Dee Dee, who waved me on, and shuffled slowly following Woody’s lead. I thought at first he was going to try to fuck me, and I wasn’t ready for that. Pulling me gently again, I followed him to his destination, the overstuffed chair in the living-room area, and urged me to sit down. I thought, “I’m safe now, he doesn’t want to fuck, and Dee Dee says he gives the best head, so let’s go.” Sitting down on the edge of the deep chair, I was almost lying down. I spread wide for him kneeling there, heard him say, “Oh, beautiful, beautiful. Can I put your legs up here, Dolly?” I said nothing, and he got both ankles and without further approval, my thighs were on his ears. I immediately felt that talented tongue, without further preliminary, enter as far into my vagina as he could with that talented organ. A quick little gasp of surprise from me, and he quickly withdrew the tongue, placed the tip between my outer lips and inner lips, massaging gently, alternating between the left and right, and then putting his lips over my sensitive inner lips, and began to gently suck, all the time continuing to flick that pointed, darting organ between the delicate petals between my legs. At first I was disappointed at him taking that feeling away that I got when he entered me. I quickly began to feel a glow all over, a feeling of well-being that left goose bumps on me.
    I could be content forever like this, much as the feeling of love I remembered from the first time I had seriously petted with a boyfriend, when I was thirteen. One finger in me, at thirteen, in the back yard shed was such a big step for me, I thought, “Love me, love me, love me forever.” Though we never got beyond the finger stage, he will forever be my first love. It was him I imagined in my bed as I masturbated that night, and many nights thereafter.

    (Cont'd next post)