Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Hello all. Some parts of this story came from a dream I had, so now you guys know what I have wet dreams about. Anyways, all characters in this story are fictional and of the legal ages of 20, 43, 43 and 42. Any real life similarities to any real people are purely coincidental and accidental, as with the fictional Arizona city in the story. Any suggestions for further writing are welcomed as I will absolutely be making this into a series. I plan on having solo issues for each of the characters, and more group play. So please enjoy, and drop a comment telling me what you did or didn’t like.
The elevator stops. I take a deep, shaky breath. The doors open. I look up, this is my chance. I moved out of the house at 20, a little late. I have been so nervous. What if I fail? This is my chance to make life my own. Find myself. I take one big confident step out of the elevator at the end of the hall, and turn to my right. Four doors. Two on the left and one on the right. I walk to the end of the hallway, to the last door on the left. The numbers Four-Oh-Four on the center of the door, my one shot at life lies behind these numbers. I stick the key into the lock and open the door. A small, open plan apartment awaits. A kitchen, bed, sofa and wall mounted Tv are immediately visible.
The town of San Gria is a small community situated on the border of Arizona and Mexico. Only about 37 thousand people live here, not terribly small but far from a metropolitan area. My parents let me stay with them after high school so I could get my degree from a community college back home in New Mexico. They kicked me out after that, and I’m hoping to find my footing here in San Gria. I majored in business, hoping to find some small office job for now whilst I pursue my clay sculpting and pottery passions.
As I unpack my things from their boxes and try to organize them into a semblance of a home, I decide to order some food on postmates. There’s a really good pizza place I’ve seen on TV just a few miles away, so I order a thin crust pepperoni pie, my favorite. I get a notification on my phone that the delivery man is at the front door of the building, so I go to the lobby and meet him.
“Thank you sir, you are a lifesaver.” I say in an exhausted voice.
“No problem, have a good night” he says as he walks out the door.
I walk my pizza to the elevator and punch the button. The doors open and I step in. The elevator is sketchy to say the least, very slow and with a single flickering light above my head. It grinds and groans its way up to the fourth floor. The doors slowly creak open and I see a woman standing in front of the elevator. She was to be about five-foot-five. She’s latina, and her brown eyes are twinkling.
“Now who exactly are you?” She says as a mischievous smile glides across her face.
“My name is Oscar.” I say. “I moved into 404 today.”
“How old are you Oscar?” The woman says as she looks me up and down.
“I’m 20.” I say. “I reckon you’re one of my neighbors?”
“I am indeed, I’m in 403.” She says with her eyes locked on mine. She steps closer to me, almost into the elevator. “I’m Cynthia. But you can call me Cynthy.” She proceeded to step further, coming into the elevator with me, while holding her eye contact.
The elevator door closes behind her.
“Would you mind going down with me Oscar?” She says with a puppy eyed look, “I might need a big strong man to grab my package for me, I’m 43 and things like big packages can hurt.”
I nod my head in agreement, finally breaking her gaze. “The uhh… the button.”
Cynthia pushed her body against mine, her breasts coming to about my rib cage, and pressing firmly against me, I let out a small almost inaudible moan, I really hope she didn’t hear that. She reaches around me and presses the button for the first floor.
“What have we here?” Cynthia says in an inquisitive voice. I hope for the love of God she doesn’t mean my raging boner.
“Pizza from Donny’s? You must really be new in town. That place hasn’t been good since the owner died two years ago. I myself am a bit of a home cook, would you like to come over tomorrow night for some real food? Think of it as a welcome party!” She exclaimed.
The doors ding open before I can think to respond, and we’re in the lobby of our small apartment building. I handed her the pizza and headed to the counter where her package was already on the receptionist’s desk. It was about the size of a tissue box. I grab it and go back to the elevator where she is waiting for me. I hand it to her, confused as to why she needed me to grab it for her. We ride back to the top floor and walk to our apartments. She reached her door before I reached mine, and from behind I could see that she was extremely curvy, with her ass taking a considerable amount of self discipline not to gawk at and drool over. Self discipline I didn’t have much of, so I was staring hard. She stops outside her door, turns her head over her shoulder and gives me a wink.
“Thank eyüp escort you for grabbing this for me, It was nice meeting you and I think I have plenty of material for it now. Come by tomorrow at 6:30, I’ll make you something nice.” she says as she walks into her apartment and closes the door behind herself.
I walk back to my apartment and stop when I get inside, my boner trying its best to blast a hole in my jeans. I really hope she didn’t see that. I eat my pizza that was indeed terrible, and sit down at my clay throwing set up. I have never met a woman who made me forget how to be a human before. I have to carve the essence of this woman right now. I work furiously for many hours, sculpting and re-sculpting over and over again until it’s perfect. A curvy woman made of clay. She looks so seductive, and I have a hard time removing my eyes from the statue. That is until they nearly closed themselves. It was 2:30 before I went to sleep.
I awoke to an ungodly amount of sun in my eyes. I really need to get curtains for my window. I check my phone and see that it’s 1:00 in the afternoon. Great. Sleeping in is the perfect way to start my new life of independence.
I run through a fairly routine day. Buying things from the Walmart for my new apartment. Unpacking and setting up my new apartment. I set the statue in the window to sun bake for a while, as I don’t have access to anything else right now. 6:30 comes by faster than expected and I head across the hall. I showered and put on my best smelling cologne, a gift from my uncle in Egypt. The door opens and Cynthia is there. She is wearing the tightest pair of blue jeans I have ever seen in my life, an orange crop top that exposes the top of her immaculate bust and no shoes.
“Hola Guapo.” She says while looking me up and down again, and biting her lip. “I invited everyone on the fourth floor, it’s a little party amongst neighbors.”
I walk into her apartment and see two other women sitting at her kitchen island. One is a darker skinned Latina who must be about 5’9″. She has on a red dress made of velvet, and my penis seems to like this one because it is springing to life. The other woman is fairly light skinned, and she smiles brightly at me. She is probably around 4’11” and there isn’t much of her.
“Hello, my name is Oscar.” I say as confident sounding as I can, though I am incredibly intimidated by these three beautiful women.
“I’m Mable!” Exclaims the third woman. “Cynthy was telling me she met a handsome young man and I can see now that she wasn’t lying.”
I blush hard, give a small dismissal of the accusations, but I can’t turn my head from the tall woman sitting under the island light.
“Yvonne.” She says coldly as she continues to sip her red wine.
“It’s very nice to meet you all.” I say as Cynthia walks past me to the kitchen, giving my arm a slight squeeze on the way past. “Where is everyone else?”
“We’re all here!” Mable cheers.
“Cynthia is divorced, I never married and Mable’s husband died on their honeymoon.” Yvonne says while staring daggers through my head.
“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that Mable. So the three of you young ladies are alone?” I say, trying not to crack any eggshells for the three of them.
“We don’t have husbands but we’re not alone.” Cynthia pipes up. “The three of us have known each other for about a decade now. Since we were all about 33 or so. That’s when I divorced my husband. Many men have moved in and out of 404 who think they would be a perfect match for one of us.” She stopped to laugh.
“Real macho men who think women can’t take care of themselves.” Yvonne added. “I’ll tell you what though, we’ve been through a lot and we’re still here. Tell us Oscar, what do you do?”
I stop for a second. These three beautiful women are staring at me asking what I do. I don’t want to lie to impress them. But pottery sounds so lame. In the end I decide to own up to it. I’m starting my life anew and I don’t want to be ashamed of myself.
“I’m trying to find some business job here in town, but I make and sell pottery as well as clay sculptures on the side.” I answer truthfully.
“Cynthy you didn’t tell me he was an artist!” Mable exclaims. “I think that’s wonderful Oscar, art is a pure way to express yourself…. Speaking of, tell us some more about yourself.”
For hours I talked to them about going to school back home, my family heritage, how my dad is half Egyptian and half white, while my mom is part Spanish and part Irish. We talk a while about their past relationships and past experiences.
As Yvonne is telling her life story, she sips more wine and I find myself staring at her. She is so beautiful. I daydream about her breasts. I know I shouldn’t, but they are big, really really big.
Yvonne stops talking for a second to drink some of her wine. She looks directly at my eyes, but I’m looking at her breasts.
“Like what you see or something?” Yvonne snaps. “You’re real pervy esenler escort aren’t you?”
I immediately snap out of my trance and look her in the eyes. I’m surprised to see that she’s looking me up and down but she doesn’t look angry.
“I I I I… I’m so sorry I was just spaced out for a second… I didn’t mean to do it… I’m sorry it won’t happen again.” I stammer out as fast as I can.
“Let me let you in on a secret, you couldn’t handle this body little boy.” She says as she pushes her stool back and stands up. She cups her voluptuous ass in her hands and turns it to me. It is absolutely fucking huge. “This ass alone is more than you can handle.”
Yvonne gets up and leaves the apartment, leaving me in absolute shock.
I feel a hand on mine, it’s Mable.
“Don’t worry about her, Every man she meets wants her only for her body and so she’s very sensitive about things like that.” Mable says gently.
“I think that would be a good point to end the dinner on.” Cynthia says. “Oscar I’m sorry that happened, please don’t think she hates you.”
Cynthia placed her hand on my thigh, dangerously close to my penis which is plenty hard after that show case of ass from Yvonne. I excused myself back to my apartment, where I started to throw clay.
Never in my life have I met a woman who seemed so powerful and sure of herself with a figure like that. I know I sculpted Cynthia last night, but I have to get Yvonne too. Cynthia took my breath away with her physicality and confidence, Yvonne is just powerful and beautiful. I sculpt a woman in a dress, her body beautiful and mature. Her head I had to remake 17 times to get right. A woman with so much self confidence and stature. I put her statue in the window as well to sun bake for a few days, then I went to sleep.
Bright and early the next morning I got up and biked across town to a flower shop. I bought a bundle of flowers and took them home. I wrote a note and attached it to them. The note was an apology to Yvonne for last night. I planned to leave them at her doorstep, knock and then walk away, but when I knocked on her door I heard her shout “Come in!”
I crept into Yvonne’s apartment. It’s full of mid-century furniture. Yvonne is laid across her couch by the window with a bathrobe on, one of her breasts is exposed enough that I can see her entire areola and nipple. I try not to stare at it as I walk in.
“I brought some flowers to say sorry for last night.” I say sheepishly. “You looked really good in your dress, but I was still listening to you, I was entranced by your confidence.”
Yvonne looked at me, staring daggers. “My what?” She asked.
“Your confidence. I’ve never met a woman so confident and sure of herself.”
“Are you scared of me?” Yvonne inquired, I couldn’t see her face well in the sunlight.
“A little bit, I respect you more than anything but yeah I definitely wouldn’t want to piss you off again.” I responded. “I usually never tell people this, but I make my clay sculptures based off of my own emotions, and sometimes when I meet someone who makes me feel powerful enough emotions I make a bust of them to capture their essence.”
I hate myself for over sharing like that.
“Did you make one of me?” Yvonne asks.
I bite my lip and hesitate to tell her. I drop my head and softly let out a defeated “Yes”.
Yvonne followed me back to my apartment after she put on some clothes so she could see the statue.
“It’s beautiful, but you got the shape of my ass wrong.” Yvonne says very flatly. “It’s too round, my ass is more perky and tear drop shaped. Let me show you.”
I have to cover my mouth as Yvonne slowly unbuttons her jeans and slides them down her legs, bending at the hip, giving me a great view of her thin thong and her poorly covered vagina. My penis almost explodes against my pants, dangerously close to her. Yvonne lets out an “oops” as she stumbles backwards onto me, penis to vagina, and I fall back with her on top of me in the end.
“Sorry about that, I tripped over my jeans.” Yvonne says, though she makes no effort to get up, my bulge perfectly straddled by her ass cheeks. We sit like that for a few minutes, though it feels like a million years. Microscopic movements in our hips so small they can barely be said to have happened.
Yvonne eventually excuses herself and gets off of me. She goes back to her apartment as I lay on the floor imagining a reality where she never got up.
A week goes by with me seeing little of Yvonne. I want to talk to her about last time. Was she mad at me still? Did she fall backwards on purpose? Did she feel my tiny movements?
I’m walking in the park about a mile from my apartment, I found a pickup game of basketball on facebook to go play. After the game I head home.
A figure comes up on my left, jogging. I assume it’s a jogger and step to the right side of the trail and wait for them to pass me. The figure catches up to me and stops jogging, şişli escort I look and see that it’s Cynthia.
“Oh hi Cynthy, nice seeing you here.” I awkwardly blurt out. I’m trying not to stare at her breasts.
“Hey Oscar, I was walking the track here when I saw you leaving the basketball court, thought I’d run to catch up and have you walk me home.” She smiled. “You look good without a shirt on Oscar.”
My head was a little dizzy from all of the running and playing basketball so I barely comprehended what she said.
“You too Cynthia.” I responded. I stop for a minute. I look at Cynthia to correct myself and plead my case.
“I’m flattered that you think so Oscar but you haven’t seen me without a shirt… Yet. So that must mean you’re thinking about me. Yvonne told me about the bust of her you made, she said there was another bust in the window, one that looked a lot like me. You’re a brave kid chasing an old woman like me.” She said with a smile and a wink.
Cynthia placed her hand on my chest and traced my pecs. “When will you take a shot Oscar?” She asked as she started to slip away.
“Cynthia you aren’t mad that I said you look good without a shirt? Or that I made a bust of you?” I said with baited breath.
“Son you’re a few eggs short of an omelet if you think I have a problem with it.” She replied as she walked away. “I see the way you look at me, think about how I look at you.” She shouted over her shoulder.
I ran back to my apartment and slammed the door behind me. I took a hot shower to try and clear my head. What was she trying to say? Take a shot? Why wouldn’t she be upset? What did she mean by that last part?
I think about it for half an hour, finally coming to the conclusion that maybe this lust isn’t quite so one sided.
I took out my cell phone, and with extremely shaky hands I texted Cynthy. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
My heart pounded and my ears rang as I got a notification minutes later from Cynthia. I take a deep breath and turn over my phone to read the message.
“Thought you’d never ask. I’ll let Mable and Yvonne know. We’ll be there soon, be careful, they’re kinky and have been fighting for a piece of you.”
Erection doesn’t even begin to describe it. All of the blood in my body went to my dick instead of my head, and I got extremely dizzy, almost passing out. I risked it all texting that to Cynthia, and Yvonne and Mable are coming too?
A knock on my door brings me back from the dead. I try to act natural and like I’m not screaming internally. I can’t even get to the door before it opens itself and Yvonne bursts in the door. She is wearing her red dress from the other night.
“You tried it with Cynthia first!!?” She screams. “I’ve wanted that cock since the moment I saw you you fucking idiot!”
Cynthia and Mabel stumble in behind her.
“I call first dibs!!” Mable shouts as she stumbles to her feet. “I call first dibs!!”
Cynthia stumbles to her feet as well and sprints towards me. “He texted me! I get to go first!”
Cynthia tackles me to the ground. She’s wearing the tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen, and all that separates my cock from her is those jeans and my boxers. Cynthia crawls on top of me, planting her massive ass on my face. Her knees are pinning my arms to the ground beside me as I struggle for air.
I can feel my boxers being ripped off of my waist, leaving my cock exposed to the air around me. It feels so cold and I shudder, anticipating what comes next. Cynthia starts to grind her ass back and forth on my face, I can’t breathe and I’m frantically lapping at the denim while she moans. My cock is so cold. A warm sensation comes over it as I feel a velvet dress plant itself over my cock, Yvonne slides her dress off of her breasts and down my cock. I lap at Cynthia as fast as I can. I feel Mable place her hands on my stomach as she fights for a piece of me. Yvonne wraps her breasts around the tip of my penis, already wet with pre cum, and she spits on it. The spit is hot and wet.
I struggle for air under Cynthia, Yvonne starts to stroke the entire length of my shaft. I buck my waist in an attempt to alleviate this tension, to feel some release. Mable lefts my left leg, placing her head under it and starting to envelop my balls in her mouth. Yvonne is stroking faster, Cynthia is humping harder, Mable is pulling my balls off with her lungs. Cynthia pounds my head into the concrete floor, my head is hurting. Still I lick as hard as I can. The denim is soaked with my spit and with her discharge, My leg is quivering over Mable’s neck, Yvonne’s fat tits are coaxing my soul out. She squeezes them tighter and tighter. Up and down faster and faster and faster and faster. Up down up down up down up down. Mable pulls harder and harder, both balls in her mouth as she yanks and yanks and yanks. I can’t breathe under Cynthia’s massive ass, it’s all too much.
I buck my hips and erupt my cum all over the three girls, sending wave after wave of liquid explosion as the girls gasp. Mable lets go, giving my balls a small kiss as they fall back into place, Yvonne wraps her lips around my shaft to catch the remaining shower, Cynthia slows her grind to a halt, finally coming to rest on my face.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32