The Ride Home

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I guess I should start out by first describing myself since that seems the way these stories start off. My name is Denise, I’m a 19 year-old enjoying my summer vacation after my freshman year at Princeton. I’m 5’4″ 120 lbs 34B-25-36 with dark hair and brown eyes and of Italian descent. I have olive skin that gets golden in the summer time. I’ve been told that I am pretty and I generally have no problems getting a date. I lost my virginity in October and had one other lover at school this year. So that’s my personal data.

This summer for graduation, my dad arranged a trip to Greece with him and his fiancée and myself. I knew it was his attempt to get me and Cindy to get along. I didn’t like her at first. Of course, I was like most children of divorced parents who had the fantasy that mom and dad would get back together some day. My dad is a big time attorney and as usual, he cancelled out at the last minute because of an important client who got arrested. He said he would try to join us, but that never happened.

The other reason I didn’t like Cindy was she was only 30 and I figured she was a gold digger after dads money. My dad is a very handsome man but he’s 56, what could they possibly have in common. The other strike against her was she was gorgeous. Dad met her while he was in Vegas, she was a showgirl or something. Cindy was the typical blonde bombshell, pretty face awesome body and 36DD breasts which I saw along with a few hundred Greeks while we were away. She dragged me to a nude beach and although we only went topless, all eyes were on Cindy. It was like I didn’t exist when I was around her.

Worst of all, after being in Greece with her for a week or so I realized that she was pretty cool and that I really liked her. Once that hill was crossed, we had a great time and it didn’t matter that dad never joined us. The fact is, I developed a crush on Cindy while we were away. I had a strange attraction towards one of my roommates at school but I didn’t dare act on it, so the tingly feeling I got when I saw her topless at the beach and after that I saw her walk around the hotel suite barely dressed after showering was nothing new to me.

She was like hanging out with one of my roommates. We chatted up a storm and we talked about boys and one night she made a confession to me that drove me crazy and still does. When I asked her what attracted her to my dad she asked me if I really wanted to know. We had shared a bottle of wine at dinner and I was feeling quite tipsy but I still was taken off guard by her answer. She said when she was on her first date with dad, they were slow dancing and she felt a rather impressive lump in his slacks. “Dad’s got a big one?” I asked gasping. I had never thought about him that way.
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Meet In The Real World

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Chet nervously looked at his watch for the third time in the last five minutes. What in the hell had gotten into him, was he out of his mind?!? Meeting a woman in person he has been having an on line relationship with–totally nuts! Here he was, 33 years old, a good job, married to a beautiful woman, two small children, a whole lot to lose, and he could throw it all away because he was thinking with his dick! Unbelievable!! He’d heard the stories of meetings of this type going disastrously wrong, with some even ending up in murder, and just because most of the victims were women didn’t make him feel a whole lot better! After looking at his watch again he mumbled, “Christ boy, relax, it’s just a drink with a new acquaintance, no problem!!”

At exactly five thirty a tall chestnut haired woman strode through the door and scanned the bar. The white rose on her lapel was the signal to let him know who she was, but he didn’t even need it. He could tell it was her by the description she had given him on the chat line. One worry taken care of, she wasn’t a liar, she was even prettier than she had described herself, being tall and slim of frame, a very ample chest, even if it was hidden underneath a tailored business jacket. Chet hopped up from his chair and approached her with hand extended, “Hi,” he said, “I’m Chet Lane, and you must be Veronica!” Her smile was breath taking, and she took his hand and shook it with a firm grip, never taking her eyes off of his while intoning in a smooth sultry voice, “It’s so nice to meet you Chet, shall we sit down!?!”

Taking her by the arm, Chet lead her to the booth he had reserved at the rear of the bar, and after they had slid into opposite sides of the table and just looked at each other for a few seconds, Veronica said, “You look even better than I thought you would, I hope I am up to your expectations!” “Very much so,” he replied, “more beautiful than I could have imagined, would you like a drink?” “A Rhine wine would be nice,” she said, “I’m a little bit nervous!” “Your nervous,” he thought, “I’m a total wreck!” Chet ordered a couple of drinks and then sat in silence until the waitress brought their order. After paying the check, each of them took a sip from their glasses, and Chet offered, “I’ve never met anyone from the internet before, this is kinda new to me.” “Me too,” she replied, “I almost backed out at the last minute, but figured we would be in a public place, so why not?” They both chuckled, took another drink, and Chet asked, “Well, are you glad you decided to give it a shot?” She nodded the affirmative, and Chet offered, “Me too, more than glad, you look absolutely fabulous, much better than your description!” “Well thank you, kind sir,” she replied, “I am more than impressed with you too, I was praying that you wouldn’t be the proverbial frog!” Again they both laughed, getting more and more comfortable in each other’s presence. Looking at her, Chet could feel the electricity between them as he then broached the question, “Well, how do you feel, I mean about us, you know, do you need more time, another meeting maybe, you know to get comfortable?” “I’m very comfortable right now,” she answered quickly, “I don’t need another date to confirm what I already feel!” Chet picked up his drink, swallowed the last of it, dropped a five dollar tip on the table, stood up and said, “Me too, let’s go!”
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Red Cowboy Boots

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Christy peered into her closet trying to decide on which outfit to wear for her usual Saturday night outing, and since being from Ft. Worth, Texas, her destination was sure to be one of the many cowboy bars that dotted the Metroplex landscape. She finally decided on a long country style dress that was low cut on top, yet loose enough to allow her freedom of movement on the dance floor. She lay the garment on her bed and sat down in front of her vanity mirror to brush her long blonde hair. There was no mistaking it, Christy had a stunning body! Long slim legs, flat tummy, a full yet tight ass, large red nippled breasts, and a pretty if not beautiful face.

As the brush pulled through her tresses, her boobs jiggled back and forth, causing her nipples to become erect. Christy had to admit she was a male magnet of the nth degree. Her pussy was already damp, and having a smooth shaved crotch seemed to only heighten her arousal. Christy was blessed with abnormally puffy vaginal lips, and lately it seemed that they were always bulging and wet with juice. “God,” she thought, “I hope I can get lucky tonight, it’s been almost a week.” After the fiftieth stroke of her brush, she got up and pulled her dress over her head and slipped it on. “No bra or panties tonight,” she said out loud, “no use having them in the way.” To top off her ensemble, she pulled on a pair of bright red cowboy boots, a red cowboy hat, and a red bandanna around her neck, and after one last look in the mirror, she was out the door and on her way.

The Jagged Horseshoe was packed as usual, with almost everyone dressed as a cowboy or cowgir, and even though most of them were city cowboys, they really tried to look and act the part of a real cowhand. The tell tale give away that most of them were city slickers was the amount of white wine that was consumed, not a whole lot of beer and shots in this place! Christy wandered over to the bar and ordered a margarita, while over in the far corner the mechanical bull was in the process of bucking off another “cowboy”. Christy was watching the bull riding when up behind her she felt two large hands on her hips and a hard cock pushing against her ass, and while her natural inclination was to pull away, in the crush of bodies around them, she was powerless to move in any direction, so she tensed her body, not sure of what would happen next.

She felt a hot breath on her shoulder, and then a soft male voice in her ear said, “I’ve been watching you from the moment you came in the bar, you don’t know how much you turn me on!” He continued on, “I’m as hard as blue steel, and I’ll do anything to stick it into your hot pussy, and I can see that you’re not wearing a bra, and I can feel that you’re not wearing any panties!” “I just want you to know that I’m no pervert, and I’m not bad looking either, so if you want me to leave just lean forward and I’ll be on my way, if not, and you’re as hot as I am, push back against me now.” Christy’s head was spinning, totally taken by surprise by this “rear” assault, but the only problem was that it also totally turned her on–big time, so she helplessly sagged back into her anonymous admirer, feeling more of his body press against her own.
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Mile High Club

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Trent Boyd hefted his small attache’ case into the over head compartment and sat down in the aisle seat and waited for the 737 to take off. Leaving the bone chilling cold of Detroit to spend a long weekend in New Orleans was enough to bring a smile to the face of any seasoned traveler! One stop over in Memphis, and it would be good by Woodward Ave. and hello Bourbon Street! This would be Trent’s sixth visit to the Crescent City and it was definitely his favorite destination, with all the food, booze and women to be had! His day dream was abruptly interrupted, however, when he chanced to see an absolutely stunning black haired beauty dragging an over night bag down the aisle, obviously looking for her seat. Every male eye in the plane followed her every step, the result of which was a slight jiggling of her oversized chest underneath her skin tight sweater! To Trent’s utter delight, she stopped at his row, rechecked her ticket stub, and hoisted her bag into the over head, and slipped past him into the window seat next to his. Usually in cases like this, Trent’s usual experience would have been that this lovely creature would turn out to be an ice queen, but to his happy dismay, she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Sonja, Sonja Fletcher!” He took her hand, and replied, “Trent Boyd’s the name, glad to meet you, New Orleans or Memphis!?!”

“Memphis,” she answered, “born and raised there, going home to visit the folks.” “That’s nice,” he replied, “I’m going on to New Orleans myself, a long weekend getaway!” Just then the no smoking and seat belt lights came on, and a flight attendant announced that they would be taking off in about two minutes. “I guess we had better get ready,” Sonja said, while reaching for her seat belt. “Yeah,” replied Trent, “if we go down we better be belted in, for all the good it would do.” “Please don’t say that, I’m scared to death of flying,” she said in a nervous voice, “joking about it just makes it worse for me!” At first Trent thought she may have been joking, but the look on her face told him that she really was terrified of flying! “I’m sorry, Sonja,” he said soothingly, “you’re right, it was a bad joke, here, let me hold your hand during take off, it will make you feel better!” Gripping his hand like a steel vice, Sonja was obviously glad to have someone to hold onto, and Trent was a little taken back when she held his hand to her chest while waiting for the plane to take off.

“My god,” he thought, “her boobs are incredible,” even if he was getting a somewhat limited feel through her tight sweater. “I’m sorry I’m holding on so tight, but I really am frightened,” she offered! While trying to maneuver his fingers for a better feel, he replied back, “Oh, that’s all right, if it makes you feel better, it’s all right with me.” Soon the jet was taxiing out to the runway, and Sonja’s breathing became shallow and intermittent, a sure sign of hyperventilation. Deciding to take a real chance, Trent turned a little to face her, and reached his right hand over and held her leg, six inches or so above her knee. Acting as if he were just trying to protect her, he held her close, while all the time enjoying the sensation of having one hand buried in her huge chest, and the other one on the inside of her smooth bare thigh! “Hold on,” he whispered into her ear, “here we go,” as the plane hurtled down the runway, gaining speed with each passing second. Sonja held on to Trent even harder, as she closed her eyes, hoping that they would get air born as quickly as possible while Trent let his hand slide a little farther up her thigh, until it was actually under the hem of her dress!
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Blond In Asia

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As Marla wiggled her ass in the face of the half drunken Japanese businessman he reached out and slipped his hand between her legs and ran a finger along her g-string covered crack. After the quick feel, he stuck a thousand yen into her waist band and called out to the waitress for another drink. It was almost ten o’clock in the evening, and still the company men, as they are called in Japan, were drinking and carousing with there business associates. It was said that sake and geisha girls was the oil that kept Japan’s corporate structure lubricated. Well, Marla didn’t know about the business structure, but all of the executives in the Ty Ling bar were definitely “lubricated”!

Being blonde and from America was a big draw to Japanese males, probably because of the homogeneous society that was modern Japan. Since 99.9% of the residents were Japanese, there wasn’t a whole lot of variety as far as appearance was concerned, so being blonde and in Japan definitely made you an outsider, and Japanese men couldn’t seem to get enough of the American women! While corporate America complained about closed trade markets, one look at the Japanese lifestyle told an entirely different story. The Japanese wore American clothes, watched American movies, ate at American fast food restaurants, and listened to American rock music. Walking down Tokyo’s busy Ginza district, and you would have thought you were in Times Square with all the American logos burning in bright neon lights. Marla was just another American icon to be bought and sold, only her commodity was her very supple and sensuous twenty four year old body. Like she said to her American compatriots, “We’re just doing our part to help balance the trade deficit !”

Marla had answered and ad in the New York New about fabulous money to be made in the Far East, and going for an interview, she found out that while not very glamorous, working the bars and night clubs of Tokyo and Osaka could earn a pretty blonde girl five thousand dollars a week! The hours would be long, but the rewards great for someone with a little ambition. Marla was at the time working a legal secretary making seven hundred dollars a week, a salary that barely made ends meet in New York City, so a week later she was on a plane to Tokyo, getting ready to start a brand new career. She found out right away that you could indeed make five grand a week, but to do it, you had to let the free handed businessmen touch you in very intimate places, and while not a prude, it took her several weeks to become accustomed to the pawing and leering that she had to endure while dancing at the club. In her third week, Marla got her first proposal to make some real money. A young executive wanted to take her to a hotel and make love to her. He seemed like a likable sort, and he wasn’t drunk like most of the other men in bar that night, so she made arrangements to meet him in the hotel bar after her shift was over.

Like most Japanese men, Ken, that was the name he gave her, was short and lean. He was waiting in the bar for her, and together they rode the elevator up to a room he had previously taken. He helped her with her coat, and then ran his hands up and down the sides of her body, pausing to feel the swell of her hips. She turned away from him and asked him, “Be a doll, hon, and help me with my zipper!” With a steady hand he pulled it down, kissing her on her bare shoulder, and sliding the sequined garment to the floor. He carefully unhooked her bra and it too slipped off her body, exposing her 34D chest to the evening air. Her nipples immediately became erect as Ken reached around her and cupped them in his hands. Most Japanese men were pushy and rough with their woman, but Ken had a gentle touch that was starting to turn Marla on. She turned around to face him, giving him a straight on look at her magnificent chest, and while lifting his hands back to her boobs she asked softly, “Do you like them, Ken?” He nodded in the affirmative, and said, “American girls have much bigger breasts than Japanese women, I like them very much.”
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Wild Subway Ride

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Terri crammed her way onto into the third car of the Englewood-Howard subway line on her way to the Loop for work, and while it was only 7:00AM, the car was already packed like a can of sardines. After about a month of subway rides, Terri would get fed up and take her car to work, but that usually only lasted a day or two because of the horrible traffic and expensive Loop parking rates. The el was considerably faster and cheaper, if not more convenient than driving a car. On this Wednesday it seemed that it was packed tighter than normal as Terri was pressed between a well dressed business man and a mid forties woman who smelled of Chanel No. 5.

The car rocked back and forth as the train made it’s way from the far north side on it’s way down town, and having made the same trip thousands of times, Terri kind of put her mind in neutral and just swayed with motion of the car. She was gazing out the window at the passing apartment buildings, and hardly noticed Miss Chanel No. 5 starting to breath a little harder and more shallowly, and only when she felt the woman stiffen against her did she realize that something was up. Now looking the woman in the eyes, she could see that she was in some sort of discomfort. “Are you all right,” asked Terri? The woman just nodded her head and gulped down a breath of air. For the next several stops Terri watched to see that the lady was going to be okay as her cheeks now flushed a bright red! Terri felt the woman grinding herself into her and while trying to hide her short gasps of air, Terri couldn’t believe it, but she thought that the woman looked to be having an orgasm right on the train! She became more convinced when the woman’s body suddenly went limp and her breathing returned to normal, after which she gave Terri a weak smile and then looked away.

Terri was about to forget it the whole incidnt when she felt the unmistakable feeling of a hand sliding up the inside of her thigh up under her skirt! “My God,” she thought, “this is what happened to her fellow passenger!!!” Frantically looking around she couldn’t see anyone looking out of the ordinary. She looked to see if the business man pressed against her could be the culprit, but he was reading the newspaper in one hand and holding on to the over head bar with the other. “Can’t be him,” she thought as the hand had worked it’s way farther up her thigh until she could feel fingers softly brushing against the front of her panties!!! Should she scream? She was sure that if she did, the hand would be gone and she would surely look like a fool!!! Now the fingers had worked their way past the elastic on the leg openings and now were moving up and down her slit. “Shit,” she thought, “I can’t help it, I’m getting wet!!!” Now her own breaths came more shallowly, while as the car swayed too and fro it only heightened her arousal!
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Librarian

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Ryan pushed the heavy cart containing at least on hundred books down the narrow library aisles, stopping occasionally to return the volumes to their proper place. To most people rummaging around a bunch of dusty books and periodicals would be a chore to be avoided at all costs, but Ryan was different, he loved feel of the books in his hands and the aroma of old manuscripts filling his nose, but especially the wealth of information found like buried treasure between the sometimes frayed covers. He was only eighteen, but already he knew what he wanted to do with his life, go to college, major in library science, and become a curator for some large research library. He wasn’t interested in checking books in and out, or sending out past due notices to tardy borrowers, no, he wanted to get into old manuscripts, first editions, and rare writings from days gone by. For now, though, just being able to work at something he truly loved was enough for him. He glanced at his watch, and said to himself, “Five minutes to closing, I better get hustling, it’s gonna take at least an hour to get all these put away!” Working at a quick pace, Ryan was almost finished restacking, when it happened, standing on the short step stool needed to reach the upper shelf, his foot slipped and he came tumbling to the floor, landing with a loud thud. The force with which he had hit the floor had been noisy enough that the head librarian, Miss Vance had heard it and brought her running. When she got to him, what she found was and unconscious Ryan, with blood trickling down his forehead.

Miss Vance practically ran to the rest room and wet a towel with cold water and rushed back to Ryan. When she got there he was trying to shake out the cob webs, but his head was pounding, and he was still too shaky to stand up. Miss Vance gently dabbed the blood from his brow and asked, “What in the world happened Ryan, you just must be more careful!?!” Ryan tried to stand up, but slipped back to the floor, only to be caught in Miss Vance’s arms. “Don’t try to get up yet,” she ordered in her usual stern voice, “just lie back and relax for a few minutes!” Miss Vance was a very strict and formal woman, about fifty Ryan guessed, with a manor that bespoke respect and decorum. No matter the weather or time of year, she always wore a white blouse, a medium length skirt, and a ladies blazer or jacket, usually gray or dark blue, while sometimes to add a little color she would wear a gay scarf around her neck. With her black hair pulled back in a severe bun, and her erudite personality, it wasn’t easy to carry on a conversation with her, let alone have any type of interpersonal relationship, but right now he was as close to Miss Vance as he ever had been, and in his hazy mental state due to his fall he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. Although she wore unrevealing clothing and acted cool and aloof to her employees, Harriett Vance couldn’t disguise the fullness of her body which was dominated by a large full chest that she tried to keep hidden from view!
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Wanted Older Ladies For Good Time

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Tommy had placed the ad about a week ago and today he received his first reply. His ad read: “Wanted, older ladies, preferably over 55, to pose in erotic photo sessions, good $$$, looks not important, attitude is. Send a snapshot of yourself and your phone number to Box 33 in care of this newspaper.” Tommy looked at the photo that was enclosed with the letter sent by a fifty eight year old grandmother. “Mmmmm,” hummed to himself, “a little hefty, but not too bad.” The enclosed letter was from a lady named Emma Oetken. She was a widow and grandmother, who was looking for a little adventure in life. Her vitals were 58yo, 5’5″, 170lbs, brown hair, blue eyes, with measurements of 38DD-32-40. A well packed woman indeed, but for a first reply you could do a whole lot worse. Tommy picked up the phone and dialed the number listed in the letter, and after only three rings, it was answered by a woman with and average sounding voice. Tommy quickly introduced himself and asked her if she was indeed interested in posing in front of his camera. She enthusiastically replied in the affirmative, so they made and appointment to meet at Tommy’s house for the following afternoon at two o’clock. Tommy excitedly hung up the phone and began making plans for his first session.

At precisely two o’clock the door bell to Tommy’s front door rang while Emma Oetken nervously shifted her weight from one leg to the other, not too sure if this was such a hot idea after all! Before she could turn heal and get away, the door swung open and Tommy Chandler was inviting her inside. The first thing Tommy noticed about her, was that she had more gray hair than showed up in her picture, otherwise she looked just like her photo–matronly! “Please come in Mrs. Oetken,” Tommy said, as he ushered her towards the studio in the rear of the house, “right through that door, please sit down.” When they both were comfortably seated, Tommy asked, “Why do you want to pose for me Mrs. Oetken?” “Please call me Emma,” she replied, “if we’re going to be working together we might as well use each other’s first names, don’t you agree?” “Anyway,” she continued, “basically for the adventure, I can always use the money, but since Harry passed away last year, my life has been such a drag, and I just feel like breaking out of my shell!” “Okay,” replied Tommy with enthusiasm, “let’s get started right now, let’s just take some shots with your clothes on, just so you can get used to the camera,” Tommy offered, “and then we can go from there, all right, Emma?” “Sounds good to me,” she shot back, “let’s do it.”

For the next half hour Tommy took over thirty snaps of Emma in various poses. He had her posing in some of the positions she would be making when she was naked, and he was generally pleased with her attitude and willingness to take direction. When he felt they were both comfortable with the situation , he asked her, “Ready to take off a piece of clothing or two, Emma?” She nodded boldly, and answered, “Ready when you are Tommy, just give the word!” “Okay baby,” he replied soothingly, “let’s loose the blouse, slowly!” As Tommy snapped away, Emma unbuttoned her blouse and began to reveal her huge chest encased in her low cut lace bra. Her breast spilled out over the top of the cups, squished together, making her cleavage look even more impressive, and when her blouse was finally on the floor, Tommy gave a low whistle and said, “Baby you look so sexy, those boobs would give a statue a hardon.” Emma blushing, turned a bright shade of red upon hearing Tommy’s sexy comment, so when he asked her to slip of her skirt, she immediately unzipped it and let it fall to the floor. Tommy was a little taken back when he saw what Emma had hidden under her skirt, instead of the usual panty hose, Emma wore a garter belt, hose, and very sexy over sized bikini panties! Even though she had a round paunchy belly, the sight of an older grand motherly type, dressed in lingerie deemed more appropriate for a twenty year old was unbelievably erotic, and although he was working, Tommy couldn’t have stopped getting and erection even if he had wanted to!
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Preggers and Very Horny

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Wanda waddled into the kitchen with a tray full of dirty dishes while thinking about how tired she was all the time now, and she still had two months to go before she was due! She felt like a fat cow, after gaining thirty pounds during this her first pregnancy, and while she was usually a svelte 125 pounds, her tits had turned into mini Goodyear blimps, and her belly looked like she was stealing a water melon from a fruit stand while hiding it under her dress! No wonder Dave had seemed to lose interest in sex. When she looked into the mirror she appeared to be anything but desirable, and to top it all off, her nipples had begun to leak milk, leaving her dresses and blouses stained and wet.

God she would be glad when all of this was over!

A light shiver ran through her when she looked out the kitchen window at the foot deep snow that spread across her back yard, looking for the world like a perfect white carpet. As she gazed at the wintery scene, her mind floated back to her childhood, of sledding, throwing snowballs, and building snow forts until her reminiscing was abruptly terminated with the loud ringing of the front door chimes. Dressed in only her house dress, Wanda would have normally put on a house coat to cover her self consciousness, but for once she just forgot about it and went directly to the door and opened it. Standing on the snowy front porch was a young Express Parcel delivery man, holding a package and his clip board. “Package for a Wanda Perkins,” he said, while shivering in the cold January air. “I’m Wanda Perkins, please step inside and get out of that cold for a few minutes!” “Thanks ma’am,” he replied, “it’s really a bear out there to day,” as he stepped into her living room. She signed for the package and asked him if he would like a cup of coffee to warm up. “Thanks a lot, I could sure use one, the heater in the truck isn’t working to well,” he replied! “Come on into the kitchen and sit down for a few minutes and warm up,” she offered. “Black or cream and sugar,” she asked, as she poured a couple of fresh cups. “Black will be fine, thanks,” he answered, taking in a deep whiff of the fresh brew, while also taking in a view of Wanda’s huge chest. He couldn’t help but notice the two wet spots on the front of her dress, at the same spot where her big nipples poked through the thin material, and almost instantly he felt his dick begin to stiffen as he watched the big jugs jiggle freely from side to side.
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The Carnival Is In Town

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It was always the same in every little town and hamlet that the carnival stopped in. Walt would try and hook up with some of the local talent for the four or five days they were in town. To a homey, the life of a carny roustabout seemed like a glamorous way to live. “Some glamor,” thought Walt, “dusty dirty jobs setting up and tearing down the rides and exhibits that constituted the Kingston Karnival, and Eddie Kingston made sure that you earned every dime of the crummy pay that he forked over on every Friday. In between set up and tear down, Walt would handle any number of odd jobs around the midway. If he wasn’t running one of the many rides for the youngsters, he was operating a game stand, you know, the kind that for a buck you have to knock down the three milk bottles with two throws, or maybe shoot a moving target with a gun with bad sights, where ever he was needed, that’s where you’d find him.

It was when he was running one of the games that Walt had a chance to interact with the local girls. Usually she would be with her boyfriend who would be trying to win her a stuffed animal, while at the same time Walt would be giving her the eye. More often than not, a few hours later that same girl would be back at the stand, only this time alone. Walt would then usually give her a couple of free whacks at whatever game he was running, and then make a date with her for later that evening when he was off work. Most of the time the broads were young, between eighteen and twenty three. This was okay with him, because there was just nothing like the taste of young pussy! At twenty eight, Walt cut a good looking if rough kind of figure! A little over six feet tall and 190 pounds, his muscular build attracted the ladies like bees to honey. This town had been like all the others, Walt made contact with young lady and made a date for later that evening. After closing down his game, Walt slipped into his trailer, showered, shaved, and put on a fresh change of clothes. Five minutes later he met Brenda in front of the big top, and off they went arm in arm.

Brenda was a typical townie, trying to act older, more experienced, and more sure of herself than she really was. “Why don’t we go to my place,” Brenda offered, “my mom is gone, and we can have the place to ourselves!” “Sounds good to me,” Walt replied, while thinking that this one was gonna be even easier than he thought! “Mom’s out on a date herself,” said Brenda, “and she won’t be home until morning!” “How about a drink,” Walt asked, as he looked the place over!?! While Brenda mixed him a drink, Walt sat down on the couch and put his feet upon the coffee table and turned on the television. Brenda came into the living room holding two drinks, and asked as she sat down, “Any thing good on TV?” Taking the drink from her he answered, “Nah, just the usual crap, I was just passin’ the time waitin’ for you.” After they both took a sip of their drinks, Walt turned and put his arm around Brenda’s shoulder and pulled her close. He kissed her ear and she turned and kissed him full on the mouth, and while she pressed harder against him Walt could feel the two large breasts the young girl pushed into him. Walt let his free hand roam over the front of Brenda’s chest and offered no resistance when he squeezed her boob and twisted the hard nipple that was poking through her thin blouse.

“Baby I really want you,” he whispered, as he unbuttoned the front of her blouse. “Let me help you,” she offered, taking over and undoing the rest of the buttons on her shirt. Walt never tired of seeing a large pair of tits in a low cut bra, and Brenda had that in spades! “Wow baby,” Walt stammered, “these are the finest boobs I have ever seen in my life!” While maybe not entirely true, Brenda’s chest was spectacular enough that for once in his life he wasn’t feeding someone a line! “Do you want me to take off my bra,” she asked coyly, leaning her shoulders back and pushing her chest forward. Walt just groaned, and let his hands caress them through her white lace bra. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Brenda said, as she reached behind her and unhooked the thin satin garment.

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