Fav Story - Part 1

Discussion in 'Sexual Fetishes and Fantasies' started by AndyC, Mar 26, 2004.

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  1. AndyC

    AndyC Banned

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    One of my favorite stories. Enjoy.

    The Lingerie Salesman

    I was a door-to-door insurance salesman once for about 20 minutes. It
    was another of my many failed careers.

    Dante was wrong. The deepest circle in hell doesn't belong to the traitors to
    kin and country, there's a level even deeper. The Tenth circle is reserved
    for
    door-to-door salesmen. Because that's a living hell on earth, and THEN you
    die.

    I took the insurance job after being fired from my trainee position at
    the heavy equipment company. I just fucked up too much for them, I guess.
    I hated being in an office all day anyway. I thought being outside would
    be better. I was wrong. After two weeks selling insurance door-to-door
    I knew I had made a mistake, but there weren't any other job offers
    being waved at me, so I plugged along. I spent the better part of that
    Friday morning getting doors slammed in my face. I went to lunch.

    The fast food place where I went was jammed. I waited in line, grabbed
    my burger and shake, and looked for an available seat. The only place
    open was at the counter. I balanced my briefcase in one hand and my tray
    of food in the other and headed for the seat. I couldn't help but notice
    that I picked a chair right next to a pretty young woman who was eating
    alone. I tried to make small talk.

    "You know these burgers will kill your stylish figure," I said.

    She wasn't offended at all. "Yours too," she said.

    "Yeah, well, when you're out here slogging the streets, you have to eat
    and run, you know?" I replied.

    "You a salesman too?" she asked.

    "Yep," I said. "You?"

    "Yes. Been here all week knocking on doors. Just grabbing a burger before
    I get in the car to drive home. It's almost three hours upstate. Thought
    I'd get an early start," she told me.

    "Oh," I replied. I guessed I wouldn't be seeing her again. "What do you
    sell?"

    "Lingerie," she answered.

    "Door-to-door lingerie?" I asked. "I never heard of that."

    "It's a new company," she replied. "Kind of like a Tupperware thing."

    "How's it going?" I wanted to know.

    "Great," she said.

    "Are you a typical salesman, er, woman for them?" I said, leaning away
    from her and surveying her up and down.

    "Yes. Only female sales professionals. Most of us are young, 20's and
    early 30's. I sell a ton."

    "I see," I said.

    "Say, I ran myself ragged this morning looking for Cherry Tree Lane.
    Look," she said, reaching into her big purse. She pulled out a postcard
    and handed it to me. It was a business reply card. I flipped it over. "See?
    Cherry Tree Lane. It's not on my map, nobody I talked to ever heard of it."

    "Nope," I said, studying the card. In truth, I had stumbled on Cherry Tree
    Lane just the day before. It was one of those brand new streets in a brand
    new subdivision. So new that some of the houses didn't even have grass yet.
    The card had spaces for name, address, marital status, dress size, and a yes
    or no box for "Please have a sales associate call". In neat hand lettering I
    saw "Shirley Tipton, 18 Cherry Tree Lane. Married. 6. Yes." as the responses.

    "Well, a good lead gone bad," she said. I nodded, knowingly.

    I didn't have a strong memory of 18 Cherry Tree Lane. Nobody had been
    home when I knocked on the door, and I hadn't marked it for a return visit,
    since I didn't see any of the things that life insurance guys are trained
    to look for. You know, like kid's toys laying around, a station wagon,
    a van, or other signs of a young family.

    We finished our lunch, and when I tried to get her phone number, she
    politely declined, saying she was already in a relationship, and anyway,
    she lived three hours away. She left.

    It was time for me to get some doors slammed in my face. I thought to
    myself, "Screw this." I decided to to blow off the rest of the day.

    I got in my car and started driving. I found Cherry Tree Lane and slowly
    cruised up and back down. There was a car in the driveway at number 18:
    a hot little Miata, bright red. Not a car an old lady would drive. But
    then this was not a neighborhood an old lady would choose, either. I was
    already past the house when a young woman walked out the front door, heading
    for the driveway. I whipped my head around, but could only get a quick
    glimpse of her as I motored away. She was lovely. A fiery redhead with
    a nice figure. I began forming a plan.

    On Saturday morning I drove to Sinclair, nearly an 80 minute drive. I
    knew there were a ton of factory outlet stores there; there was
    always pandemonium in the aisles, and the clerks were glad to do
    anything just to get you back out. Especially if you were returning
    something.

    I found a store that specialized in lingerie, made sure they accepted
    returns, and then bought almost $500 worth. All size 6. Or Small, if that's
    how it was labeled. I bought flannel PJs, see throughs, two piece, one
    piece, teddys, silk tops, satin bottoms. If they sold it, I was buying
    it. I filled my trunk and drove home.

    By the time Monday morning rolled around, I was ready. All of the tags
    had been cut from the clothes and carefully set aside. I packed
    the lingerie in a suitcase, the best one I had. It was also the largest.

    I drove up to Cherry Tree Lane. I figured if she wasn't home, I could
    always just cruise the neighborhood and knock on doors that hadn't been
    answered last week. Of course I would be trying to sell them life-insurance,
    not lingerie. Yuk. I really hoped Shirley would be home.

    As I approached the house, I noted that garage door was up. The Miata
    was parked to the left, there was an empty space on the right. Good. I
    pulled up at the curb, took out the suitcase, and carried it to the front
    door. As I pushed the doorbell I checked myself over. Clean suit, shirt
    and tie, polished shoes. Very professional.

    It was only a few seconds before my redhead opened the door. She said
    "Can I help you?"

    "Yes," I replied. "I'm here with the lingerie."

    "You're...what?" she said. "You're from the lingerie company?"

    "That's right," I lied. "We tried to get here Friday, but didn't make it.
    Sorry. It's Shirley, right?"

    She nodded her head. "Yes, That's when they said she'd be here, but no
    one showed up. Why are you here? The appointment was with a Betty, or
    Betsy, or some name like that."

    "We had to let Betty go," I improvised. "She kept missing her appointments,
    and that really made people mad, you know. They stay home and then no
    one shows up. Not good. It was too bad, I liked her." It was true. We'd had
    a nice lunch together. Sort of. My voice lowered conspiratorially.
    "Confidentially I think she has a drinking problem. A shame. Tsk tsk."

    "Oh," she said. I was still at the door. Shirley contemplated the situation.
    "I thought your company only had female sales representatives."

    "Oh that," I said. I knew this objection was coming. I had an answer ready.
    "Government stopped that a month ago. Discrimination, and all. Now we have
    both
    guys and gals. At first they thought women wouldn't react well to men selling
    lingerie door-to-door. Guess what? They were wrong. I was sales associate of
    the week last week!" I told her, looking as proud as I could. I inched closer
    to the door. "Do you want to see our line? It's really quite lovely."

    "Well," she hesitated. "I guess it's all right." She opened the door
    to let me in. I pulled it shut behind me.

    It took only a few minutes to find a spot on the couch, open the suitcase,
    and get settled. She sat on the ottoman in front of me. I started with
    a very conservative full length cotton nightgown. I picked it up by the
    shoulders and held it up for her to see. "This is a nice number," I said.
    "Very warm, very soft. Easy to care for.."

    "Not exactly what I had in mind," she said. "I'm more looking for something
    for my husband." She realized what she had said and laughed. "I mean,
    not for him to wear, of course, for me to wear for him." I nodded knowingly.
    One of the salesman's best tools is silence. I kept my mouth shut. After
    a moment she continued babbling. "We've been married 5 and a half, almost
    6 years, and, uh, I wanted to get some new, uh, things to wear, you know,
    in the bedroom and around the house."

    She was telling me that she'd been married long enough for the spark
    to leave the marriage, and she wanted to get it back. Probably wasn't
    getting laid, I thought to myself.

    "Oh, I know just what you want," I said. I reached in and picked out
    a sexier number. It was a satin top with a pair of matching satin pants.
    "We have it in beige - we call it 'champagne'" I told her and winked,
    "and in light blue and in a violet. Here, feel." Her hand went out to
    touch the fabric.

    "Oh, that's lovely," she said. "Let's put that one aside." I folded it
    neatly on the couch. I pulled another specimen from my display case. A
    top and panties combination. On this one the top was more daringly cut,
    a fact I was sure to point out to her as I held it up.

    "I personally like the cut of this one," I said. "Very sexy. But I like the
    satin material on the other one better. It all depends on what you want."

    "Put it aside, too," she said.

    We continued the game for nearly 20 minutes. By the time it was over,
    ten other samples were sitting on the couch, including a lacy teddy, a
    full length nightie of near sheer black fabric, a white see-though blouse,
    a bra and panties set, and more. When I brought out the bright red crotchless
    panties she blushed a deep crimson. I held them up and apart to make sure
    she could see the hole in the bottom of the panties. I even took my fingers
    and wiggled them between the legs of the material, as if to emphasize
    the "crotchless" aspect. And I told her that men went wild over these.
    She hesitated a few moments before telling me to put them aside too.

    The only bump in the road we hit was when she asked about our return
    policy. I explained she was welcome to try anything and everything on,
    but that once I left, I couldn't accept any returns. "New rules," I said.
    "You can't return lingerie once it's been worn. Sorry." She didn't like
    that at all, but I kept distracting her with new and fun things from
    my magic suitcase, and her objection softened.

    Finally she said, "Now what?"

    I said nonchalantly, "Now you try it all on."

    "In front of you?" she asked, her eyes wide.

    "Not if you're not comfortable. Don't be silly. Feel free to try them
    on in the privacy of your bedroom. I'll wait here if you want." I paused.
    "Of course, I know how these things are supposed to fit, and I do this
    all day, it's no big deal to me. But whatever you want..."

    She was uncomfortable, that was clear. She said "Don't be insulted, but,
    ah, I think I'll try them on in the bedroom. By myself. Can I get you
    something while you wait?"

    "Sure, a root beer or whatever. Something cold."

    She walked into the kitchen and returned a minute later with my drink.
    She said "I really hope you're not offended. It's just that I, well, you
    know..."

    "I know. You don't know me and you're uncomfortable." She smiled, grateful
    that I had expressed what she was trying to say. "It happens." I paused.
    "But not that often, frankly. I guess most women don't find me threatening,
    or whatever. In the last month, I've only had one other woman do it. But,
    hey, it's fine." Now she felt guilty, like she was accusing me of being
    a lech, or something. Me?

    "OK," she said. I had made her wonder if she was being rude. "Wait here."

    She took the pile of clothes and disappeared into a room just down the
    hall. I guessed it was a den, or maybe a 1st floor bedroom. I heard movement,
    the rustling of clothes as she removed the dress she was wearing, and
    more sounds as she climbed into the first one.

    "Which one are you trying?" I called out.

    "The beige one," she called back. "What did you call it? Champagne? It
    fits really well."

    "Glad you like it," I said. I paused a moment before continuing. "Are
    you braless?" There was silence from the room. "I don't mean to get too
    personal," I said. "I just mean you should wear these things the
    way you're going to be when you're, uh, wearing these things, you know?
    Otherwise you won't know how they really fit or look."

    More silence. I heard her say, "I suppose you're right. Especially with your
    company's lousy return policy." I could hear her moving about, and I imagined
    her taking off her bra, and maybe sliding her panties down. "Thanks," she
    called out. "You were right. It fits completely differently now."

    "That's OK. I'm trained in this stuff. I have a lot of helpful tips."
    My tongue had almost stumbled and said "tits." Whew! "We do alterations,
    no charge," I said.

    "Really?" she called around the corner. "How's that work?"

    "Simple. I mark the clothes and take them with me; the alterations take
    5 business days, and we mail them to you. No charge." I repeated the offer.
    I was selling now.

    "Well," she said. I turned my head to a sound in the den. She peeked
    around the door, then swung it slowly open. She was standing in the beige
    top and pants. The champagne satin shimmered, and I thought about how
    pretty the pajama set was. I already knew how pretty the person inside
    it was. The top was about an inch short of being long enough to tuck into
    the pants. The pajama bottoms covered her leg to the ankle, but with such
    feminine flair that the effect was to enhance the mystery of the woman.

    "Step over here into the light," I instructed. Her tits bobbled against
    the top as she walked over to me, I watched the jiggling of her boobs,
    or rather of the material covering them. I surveyed her up and down.
    She involuntarily draw her arms up to cover herself. "Tut tut, arms at
    your sides." I walked around her, and took hold of the material at the
    back of the top. I pinched it in about an inch, pulling it in, pulling
    the material tighter across her tits. My fingernail barely made contact
    with her back. "It should fit like this," I said.

    She looked down and saw what I saw. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
    The color complimented her hair. "I'll take them," she said.

    "OK," I said. "Wait a minute." I lifted the material that was hanging
    over her bottom and looked at the back of the pants. She was mortified,
    but I was calm. I pinched the material in just a little, and said "We'll
    take this in just a tad, also. OK." My fingers opened and the material
    slipped out. "Go change."
     
  2. AndyC

    AndyC Banned

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    Part 2

    I could see she was relieved that I hadn't done something rude. And now
    she sort of figured I knew what I was doing, and wasn't an ax murderer
    or something. She went into the room to change. When she returned she
    was wearing the second set we had picked out, a top and shorts selection.
    It was a pale green opaque fabric this time. It was also daringly low cut.
    Where the champagne set had full length pants, these were just panties,
    but they still hid all the vital areas from sight.

    As auburn haired Shirley stepped into the doorway, she looked lovelier than
    before. She walked over in front of me and turned around, getting used to
    my gaze. "Turn around again," I said. She did. She probably thought I was
    checking the fit or something. The truth is I just enjoyed looking at her.

    "What do you think?" she asked.

    "I think it's gorgeous," I said. I could tell she was beginning to appreciate
    the attention. It was probably more than she was getting from her husband.
    "Tell me, what are your husband's preferences? I mean, if this is for
    him, and all...." Then I muttered under my breath, "lucky guy" loud enough
    for her to hear, soft enough to have been a private thought accidentally
    released.

    "His preferences. You mean colors?"

    "No no. You. His preferences about you. Like, does he like your hair,
    or your, uh, top, or your, uh, bottom, or..." Now it was my turn to feel
    uncomfortable. I restarted. "I guess I'm asking. Is he a boob man? Or
    does her prefer butts, or does he just like to, uh, take all your clothes
    off, or what?"

    "Oh," she blushed. "He likes boobs. All of them. Mine and everybody else's.
    I constantly have to smack him when we're out in public. He stares at
    women's chests all the time."

    "I see," I said, imitating a pompous doctor I had once known. "He'll
    like this number, then. Notice how it's so low cut..." I extended my arm;
    my finger traced the neckline without ever actually touching the material
    or her. "...and depending on how you move, you can really catch his
    attention."

    She looked at me as though I were giving a lesson.

    "For instance, if you lean forward," I said as I placed my open palm
    on her back and applied gentle pressure, "the cleavage increases." She
    tilted slightly. "Of course you knew that. But notice if you twist your
    shoulder just a little as you tip, what the effect is." She did it. And
    as she did it, the material in the front fell forward on one side, revealing
    almost the entire breast before it swung back.

    "I've always found it sexier for a woman to tease, to show and hide,
    than to just, you know, take off her clothes." That was true. I always
    liked to look at partially clothed women more than just butt naked ones.
    Well, butt naked ones are fun too, but you know what I mean. "Try it again."

    She did, and my eyes darted into the top to catch a glimpse of her bouncing
    tittie. "What about the fit? Isn't it too loose, like the other one?"
    she asked.

    "Oh no, this one is completely different. This one is supposed to be
    loose. In fact, the looser the better. If you're going to do more than
    just wear it, I mean really use it to attract your man, you want it to
    flow at the appropriate moments. We might even want to let it out a little.
    Here, let me see." I stood behind her. My hands flew up to the buttons
    holding the straps in the back. I released them, but held the straps in
    my fingers. I let them slip about an inch. The whole thing slid down.

    "See?" I said. "Sexier yet. These things are tools, not just clothes.
    You want to get your man going? You have to work at it."

    She stood quietly in front of me. I could see her bending her head down,
    trying to look down her own cleavage. My view from behind was better.
    After a time she said "You're very good, you know? You really know your
    stuff."

    "Thanks," I said. "All in a day's work," I thought. "I'll have them
    reposition
    the buttons, if you want," I said. "I think it looks great, a little lower."
    She agreed. Her voice cracked as she told me order that one, too.

    She went to change into another outfit. I heard rustling, then nothing.
    Then rustling, then nothing.

    "What's up?" I called out.

    "Nothing," she yelled back. "I'm trying on the bra and panties. I don't
    care what you say, I know how a bra and panties are supposed to fit."

    "No problem," I answered cheerily.

    I heard more rustling. She came out of the room in a full length black
    nightgown. She was covered to her shoulders, but it was the sexiest look
    yet, because the material was so thin. While you couldn't actually see
    anything, it gave the illusion that you were about to see everything.
    It was fabulous.

    I sucked in my breath. "Wonderful," I managed to say. She had the lacy
    white bra and panties in her hand. She walked over to me and said "The
    bra's too tight. It's a B cup, and I'm a little bigger. I usually get
    a C, although sometimes that's a little loose for me."

    "OK, scratch the bra," I said. She giggled. "Salesman's joke," I said.

    "How about this one?" she asked.

    "It's fantastic," I answered. "The best yet."

    "How does it fit?" she wanted to know.

    "Depends on you. Either you love it or you don't. Can't make alterations
    on that particular model. If you notice, it's one continuous piece of
    fabric, all the way from the drawstring at the neck down to your ankles.
    I honestly don't know how they make it. It's like a giant tube that they
    cut off, or something."

    "Oh," she said. She sounded disappointed, like I wasn't going to help
    her with this one. She was wrong.

    "But let me show you something. Walk over here." I led her to a position
    in front of the patio door which led to the side of her house. There was
    a hedge fence just a few feet away, but there was plenty of light streaming
    through the door. I stepped back to look. With the light behind her, the
    black gauze allowed the shape beneath it to show through perfectly, without
    actually turning transparent. This was a special effect worthy of Hollywood.
    On stage it's called a scrim. I call it fucking fabulous.

    "Do you see it?"

    She shook her head. I stood there and continued to look. "Here," I said.
    I walked over to her and took hold of some of the material. "Be calm now,"
    I said. I lifted the material high enough that her knees were showing,
    but all I was really doing was putting my hand behind it, and pulling
    it out far enough that she could see the effect. Now backlit in front
    of the door, she could see the outline of my hand, finger by finger, as
    I held the material. Her eyes got as big as saucers.

    "You mean you can see..." "You were looking..." "This is so thin...."
    "But I looked at it in the bedroom, and you can't see through it at all."

    "I know," I said. "It all depends on where the light is. I would suggest
    you wear it for your husband...what's his name, anyway?..."

    "Dick," she said.

    I gulped. "Dick," I repeated, blinking rapidly.

    "I know. He gets teased about it all the time," Shirley said.

    "OK, so when you're trying to get some attention from Dick, you wear
    this, and you just happen to walk in front of a table lamp now and then.
    Don't just stand there, because the interest is highest at first. It's
    like when you can see something that you're not supposed to, you know?"

    "I see," she answered. "I can't believe I'm standing here in front of
    you like this."

    I moved to the side. "It all depends on what's behind you. Now I can't
    see a thing." Well, that wasn't totally true. Her tits were still pushing
    out the front of the gown, and I could tell that her nipples had changed
    shape from just a few moments earlier.

    "I'll take it," she said.

    "Told you I was associate of the week last week. Love to make it two
    weeks in a row."

    She returned to the bedroom, and in a flash was back out the door. She
    wasn't nearly so modest anymore. This time she was in a white, almost
    see-through teddy. Her nipples were outlined in the thin material, and
    their deep red color showed through. Her public hair also deepened the
    color of the material, I could tell she shaved herself to a "V".
    Probably wears a hip-cut bikini to the beach, I thought to myself.

    "OK, Mr. Lingerie. Do your magic." She liked me now.

    "Don't need to do a thing with this one. It fits perfectly. Holds your
    bust exactly in the right place..." I was openly staring at her tits.
    "Compliments your thin waistline..." My gaze moved down. "And I assume
    you saw the snaps at the bottom. They're adjustable..."

    She shrieked. "You don't have to show me. I'll figure it out."

    "Of course," I said, sounding offended that she would even think I would
    try a moronic trick like that. What did she take me for, anyway!?! "Next,"
    I called out.

    She walked out in a shiny lime green short halter top and panties. The
    cut of this particular suit was quite unusual. Her shoulders were bare,
    but there was a collar around her neck and a triangular piece of fabric
    which completely hid her chest. From a sharp point at her neck it flared
    to the sides, and then wrapped around back where it fastened like a bra.
    But the effect was electric, because the material simply hung down over
    her tits and ended. I estimated there was three inches of material from
    the point where her nipples pushed against the fabric to the bottom of
    the material. There was no elastic; the material just hung there in space.
    The effect was to make her look like some half-dressed majorette in the
    high school band. I watched her tits jiggle as she walked into the room.

    "Another amazing piece of clothing," I said as I surveyed her.

    "You really like it?" she said.

    "I REALLY like it," I answered.

    "You think Dick will like it?" she said.

    "Dick already loves it," I answered.

    She looked down at my trousers. It wasn't the first time she had glanced
    there, but it was the first time she let her eyes linger. There was no
    mistaking my condition. A blind man, er, woman, could have seen it.

    Her voice dropped. "Doesn't this job, sort of, get to you?" She paused.
    "I mean, does it affect you?"

    She knew it did. She had just looked. I walked around behind her, just
    a few inches back. "Oh sure, sometimes. I mean, I'm human, you know? It's
    a natural thing, I think. In some ways it's actually helpful, because
    it helps me sell. For instance," I paused. "Raise your arms." She did
    so without a question. My hands came up around her from behind, as though
    I were her golf instructor or something. My hands fluttered to the material
    hanging from her breasts, and I pinched it between my fingers.

    I lifted the material an inch, then two, until the bottom slopes of her
    soft feminine mounds were revealed. I hadn't touched her yet. I held the
    material in place, and cricked my neck to look around the side. The bottoms
    of her hanging breasts were clearly visible. The only thing the material
    hid was her nipples, and it must have been within a fraction of those.
    My voice was clearly strained as I said "No woman salesman is going to
    know how sexy, correction, how sexual this looks to a man. But I know."

    She moved forward, and there was momentary contact between my fingers
    and the bottom of her tits. I couldn't tell if the move was accidental
    or purposeful. It didn't matter. "So if you want to know, yes, I get
    affected.
    I am particularly affected right now." I moved forward. I felt my straining
    dick brush against the back of her thigh, and I moved back.

    She sighed. Then she said, "Don't you think you could alter this top to be
    just a little bit shorter?" I lifted it up another quarter of an inch. The
    circle of red began to show beneath the hanging fabric. "A little shorter?"
    she pleaded again. I raised it another quarter of an inch. Now nearly the
    entire bottom of her nipple was showing. In fact, only the very hard tip was
    still shielded by the shiny material. She stepped back into me again. My
    boner
    made stronger contact this time. "I'll take them," she said, stepping away.

    "Great, great," I mumbled. I had missed my moment.

    She fairly ran to the bedroom and said "I'm going to try on the red ones.
    I hope they'll be good."

    "I promise they'll be good," I sang out. The red ones were the last ones
    we'd selected. I wiggled my fingers at the memory.

    She walked into the room, now strutting, and now inhibition free. I stared
    at her. The top was nothing more than a band of gauze which held her tits
    in place. It was virtually transparent, if a bright red, and had a clasp
    between her tits, causing the thin band to squeeze even more narrowly
    at that point. The clasp was just a snap, if I remembered correctly.

    The bottom half of the outfit was the same bright red, the same see through
    material, but of course, I knew it was an open crotch design. While she
    was standing, you couldn't see the opening. It was just big enough to
    allow the woman to piss without taking it off, or to allow something to
    travel the other direction without interference. That's what I had in mind.
     
  3. AndyC

    AndyC Banned

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    Glasgow, Scotland
    Part 3

    "The best yet," I said. "You just keep getting better and better. Come
    over here." I reached out with two fingers and touched the material covering
    her tits. Her nipples were at full attention, and were trying to poke
    their way through the wispy fabric. I rubbed my fingers lightly across
    the tissue. I felt a bump in the smooth cloth where her ruby tip had
    hardened.

    She looked at me as I stroked her, and then I felt her hand searching
    the front of my pants for my hardness. It wasn't difficult to find. She
    grasped me. The firmness of her squeezes surprised me repeatedly.

    It was only then, then that I surely knew what Shirley knew. It had been
    a very very long long time since she had had Dick's dick. I felt the
    feeling over and over again and again.

    I repeated the stroke of my fingers, and as they scraped across her nipple,
    she closed her grasp on me. My fingers broadened and I put my full hand
    around her aching tit. My other hand came up her leg, pushing between
    her thighs. She cocked one knee, opening her legs, slightly, and my
    hand flew to its waiting destination.

    "Here. Let me show you how this works," I said. My fingers found her
    wetness through the hole in the panties and I began to stroke her. "Easy
    access, that's the virtue of this particular outfit. As you can see, the
    top is thin, and your breasts stand out like beautiful treasures. And
    between your legs, the material is completely cut away..." The skin of
    my fingertips was dancing against the skin of her clitoris. She let go
    of my shaft and fumbled for my zipper. I went on. "...to allow complete
    access..." she lowered the zipper and stuck her hand inside my pants "...for
    any situation..." She found my cock, and I felt the coolness of her hand
    wrap around the hardness of my manhood. She pulled me free.

    "For instance..." I stepped toward her and slipped my hard shaft between
    her thighs. As I moved back and forth, I felt my the length of my dick
    scraping against her pussy lips, and I felt her wetness drip down over
    my tool, moistening the shaft like hot butter over asparagus. "As you
    can see..." I was straining now, "...it allows perfect skin to skin contact,
    and, uh..." I pulled my pelvis back, and using my free hand aimed my cock
    up at a 45 degree angle "...even complete penetration without removing
    the clothing." With both of us standing there, it was awkward, but we
    were both doing our best to make it work. I slid most of the way into
    her moistened love box, but because of the angle couldn't quite get all
    the way in. I put my hands under her ass and lifted. She understood.

    She wrapped her legs around me, and I pushed into her. She hung on my
    shoulders, and I supported her with my hands under her ass. We bounced
    off one another again and again as I rammed my prick into her willing
    snatch. She bent her head down to watch me hide the salami as I slid deep
    into her, then pulled out, then pushed back in again.

    In a few moments I got tired; I was supporting all of her weight and mine,
    after all, and my arms began to ache. I began a clumsy walk over to the
    ottoman. "Would you mind if I knelt down here?" I said to her.

    "You can do anything you want," she said, bouncing her pelvis up and
    down my light pole as I walked. I knelt, putting her butt down on the
    stuffed piece of furniture. That took her weight off of me, but also
    restricted her ability to bounce against me. I moved her to the edge,
    and began banging away at her.

    "I just had to have a few minutes with my hands on these tits," I said,
    looking her in the eye. My hands flew to her breasts. " Two hands for
    two tits," I said stupidly as I squeezed each one. "It's nice how that
    works out." There was another pause where the only sound was the slop
    slop slop of my dick banging into and back out of her cunt. "I love your
    tits," I said. "They're two of your best features."

    "What are the others?" she said in a husky voice.

    "Beautiful red hair," I answered, pushing my face into it. "Pretty face.
    No, make that gorgeous face," I whispered in her ear. She looked up at
    me and batted her eyes. "Great lips," I said, bending my head down and
    kissing them lightly. "Smooth complexion." I stroked my cheek against
    hers. "Nice neck." I nuzzled her. "Sexy fingers." She looked at me, puzzled.
    "I remember," I answered. "You were holding me a minute ago."

    "Oh," her eyes seemed to say. I continued boffing her.

    "Killer ass," I said. "I remember that, too." "Oh, and incredible ...
    delicious ... unbelievable ... fantastic ... wild ... gotta-have-it ...
    wet and juicy cunt."

    She came, suddenly, without warning. I could feel the contractions of
    her vagina as it tried to milk the sperm from my body. It squeezed and
    squeezed, as though it was a pair of farmer's hands coaxing the milk from
    a cow's teat. It squeezed my rod again, and a warm flush enveloped her.
    Her nipples got as hard a bing cherries, and I watched as her chest, then
    neck, and finally cheeks flushed with her excitement.

    It was too much for me, and I stopped my movements and froze. I wanted
    to feel my dick pump into her pussy, and I sat motionless as my orgasm
    crested. I was a like a statue, touching her with only my hands covering
    her heaving jugs, and with my dick, which was buried as far inside her
    cunt as I could get it. I felt my balls twitch, and knew they were about
    to deliver their cargo, up through my dick into her waiting hole.

    I felt the first contraction. As I closed my eyes in the agony and ecstasy
    of orgasm, I saw her staring into my face, watching me as I pumped my
    cum into her. I pumped, then pumped again. I lost all track of time and
    space. All of my senses were focused on that seven inches of meat which
    was nestled tightly in its warm cocoon, feeling it perform its mission.
    I pumped again, and again, and once more, then collapsed on top of her.
    My hands fell from her tits.

    We stayed like that for a minute. Maybe two. I had my head resting sideways
    on her shoulder, when I felt her blow a soft breeze into my ear. It woke
    me up. I was still inside her, even though my organ was now shrinking.
    But I didn't want to leave, and she made no attempt to move.


    "So like I was saying," I said between my heavy breaths...

    "Oh shut up, Mr. Lingerie salesman of the week," she said. "I'm going
    to make you door-to-door salesman of the month. As long as you deliver."
    She was quiet, then said softly under her breath, "and boy do you deliver."
    She sighed heavily. "I hope Dick..."

    I interrupted. "Anytime you want dick, you just call me," I said. I hoped
    she would.

    I found a new career that day; I never sold life insurance again. I started
    selling lingerie door-to-door. I made a lot of sales. Three months later
    I declared bankruptcy. It's tough to make a living when you can only get
    it up for one or two appointments a day, you know?
     
  4. Logger

    Gold Member

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    Poster Banished

    Dear Ryan,

    I did not see a reason stated for banishing AndyC,, now loooks like AndyE, and since I am trying to avoid getting banished myself, it might be instructive to know the reason he was banished.

    Sometimes there may be reasons that are embarrassing to the poster that are not mentioned out of courtesy and respect for privacy. Is this one of the times when the reasons for banishment are best left private?

    A line of my ancestors came from Glasgow, so I was feeling some kinship, Oh Well.

    Logger
     
  5. Ryan

    Ryan Gold Member

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    Unless there is something obvious out in the open the reason for being banned will not be said. I also always look out for the community first.
     
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