A. Bissell - Doing It The Gay Way

She had seen the wedding band on his finger. Maybe he wasn't working at it. She sure didn't know much about him, she had expected him to pick a motel-but being in an apartment would make her feel less like a tramp. He was a smooth bastard, probably around twenty-eight. Just right, if he knew how to fuck… and she was positive he did.

When she was out of the car, he took her arm and casually walked her up to the front door of the duplex, taking the right entrance. His assured manner said he had done this before. Her head whirled with excitement, her clit tingled. God, he was handsome. Just the touch of his hand on her arm sent warm waves of anticipation through her crotch. He closed the door, she heard the lock fasten, her heart pounded. It was a very posh dwelling, deep carpet, rich drapes and fat sofas. A bar arrangement with stools sat off to the right.

"Relax," he said lightly, not grabbing at her. "I could use one more drink.”

"Y-yes," she stuttered. As she walked toward the bar, wishing she could be as poised as he was, he chuckled.

"Beautiful ass.”

"I've been told I'm too plump," she managed, sliding her butt onto a stool.

"These skinny ones don't do much for me," he smiled, moving behind the bar. His eyes lingered on her well-filled blouse. "Are those real?”

She giggled. She was relaxing. She could still split, they both knew it. Her knees still burned where she had touched his leg, her pussy was starting a sweet ache; he knew he had it made, he was just plying her With words, teasing her, and she loved it. A bit of lightness and humor would make it much better. Alvin got too heavy with sex, lie seemed a bit ashamed of his needs. He had her on a pedestal, and a healthy girl craved more than that.

"I'll show you how real they are," she smiled, unfastening the top of her blouse. Again his eyes seemed to bum like a hand, stroking her cunt. She shivered, exposing the upper curves of her tits in the thin pink bikini bra.

"Great!" he smiled. The martinis were ready, he pushed hers in front of her. She was proud of her firm, jutting breasts; Alvin did not play with them nearly enough. He could not last long once he got his prick in her, either. She had not been able to cum with him until three months after their marriage when he had been half-drunk. The alcohol had slowed his drive, he had worked about ten minutes before getting his gun off, and she had finally climaxed around his sliding cock. His six inches did not reach in far enough, even when she doubled away up, her knees back to her shoulders.

She had been looking around for an understanding girl; she missed her former bed-partner in Boise, Pam Nugent. There was still a lot of fun to be had with a good, stiff cock, though…

Cleve looked at the sweet generosities of Mia's big tits and his cockhead began to swell. Jeeeeesus, what a pair of knockers. His hands itched to touch and feel, his tongue stiffened. There was something about her that seemed still unawakened, as if she had never been handled by a real cocksman. He had found that in plenty of dames, mostly married ones who had latched onto some older man for security, and then began to search around for "excitement.”

"A sexy blonde like you should wear black undies,” he grinned, moving around to take a stool at her left. "They are real.”

"Oh, I have same at home," she cooed, finishing the job of parting the halves of her blouse. A sweet mingling of lilac and girl aromas teased his senses. Her short skirt hem was nearly back to her ass, her sleekly nyloned thighs opened invitingly.

He slid his right arm around her waist, feeling her shiver. She leaned her head closer, her curved, plump lips opened. She pushed the martini glass out of the way, he sat his own aside, she half-turned and her arms glided across his shoulders. Her big tits cuddled his chest, she trembled, her lips opened wide.

He shot his tongue into the warm, waiting softness, she tightened her arms, her mouth glued to his, a gurgle of pleasure came up in her throat. Beautiful. Tasting the flavor and hunger of a young girl's lips far the first time was a hell of a charge. She was eager but not bold, she was used to' letting the man do the making out, and why her husband was not getting all these nice goodies was a question he had asked himself many times before.

The slow, sweet stroking of his tongue in Mia's mouth touched a deep need in her being; she had almost forgotten how a sliding fleshy probe felt between her lips. It was gorgeous. Pam Nugent had kissed this way, but that had been so damned long ago! Alvin had dentures and kissing him was a slobbery affair. Her cunt was all that really interested him, when he was interested.

The gin, a new man's nearness, the new sexy apartment, erected her clit and spread her thighs. Damn, she wanted his hand on her crotch, and her swelling titties. There was an almost feminine knowingness about Cleve, and the diving of his tongue told her instantly he wanted to eat her. She had missed that, too. Pam could do it so neatly-but she was far away, married and had evidently gone over to prick exclusively. Mia had to find a new girl friend; fucking another man could lose her her home and the whole deal. Alvin wouldn't care if she developed a friend of the same sex. Most men were very stupid about Lesbians.

Finally his hand slipped between her legs and tickled along the nyloned V to the bands of her hose, and almost to her panties.

"Nnnnnnnn!" she breathed around his tongue. Her nipples poked at the thin tight bra-cups, she shivered and arched her crotch toward his playing fingers. His tongue retreated, he nibbled her puffy lower lip and his palm flattened on her bikini-pantied CUDDY. Goodygood!

"Nice soft pussy," he murmured, rolling his hand on her cuntmound.

She decided she could be as bold with the wards as he was. "Get me undressed and get it in me," she breathed.

"Okay, you undress me first," he said. She could feel cunt juice oozing out on his hand. She hunched eagerly. He nipped at her underlip.

"God, are you that lazy?" she giggled. Keep it 'fun.' No heavy stuff. She drew away reluctantly, reaching for the buttons on his sport shirt. Her fingers were shaky. She had never disrobed a man or a girl either. She had never met a man who was so casual about a fuck. Because he had fucked a lot of dames, naturally.

Candi Jones glanced through her one-way window into Cleve's living room, having already seen a new car parked out front, and her already titillated clit stiffened delectably. That sonofabitch had really picked a beauty this time. Her opened blouse and thin bra revealed the most sensational pair of tits Candi had ever seen. Long golden-blonde hair, long full legs and a sexy ass, a mouth just made for kissing and she could not be much aver twenty.

At the moment Nancy Wells was in the rest room fixing her makeup and probably dabbing excess juice from hot pussy. After the delicious fuck on Candi's studio couch, she had taken the juicy young model around to her hotel, helped her pack up and leave, and now she would soon be settled in Candi's apartment.

Candi reached for the volume control that would let her hear what was going on in Cleve's quarters; the knob was cleverly concealed under a wall decoration near the one-way peep-hole.

“… want my cock in, huh?" he was saying, while she drew his sport shirt from his shoulders. The lazy bastard was making the girl undress him.

"Well, why do you bring girls here, honey?" the honey-blonde giggled. Even her contralto voice oozed sex. Oh, what a lovely chassis! Her miniskirt was still on, her breasts were ready to pop out of that containing bra. She was very flushed, excited. Rings sparkled on her finger. Married. He liked those bride types the shitass.

She reached for his pants and he finally stood away from the bar stool, showing off his naked torso the lump in his very snug mod pants. He liked to advertise his outfit; he had a seven-inch cock that was very thick and big-knobbed. Most broads went apeshit when they saw it.