textfiles/sex/EROTICA/C/colleen.txt

                             COLLEEN                        
                             or  the
                        THE DEACON'S WIFE
                               by
                            BrantWood

     Slowly her car moved away from the traffic signal and on
down the dimly lit street.  I watched it as I walked along the
grassy shoulder of the road that led outside of town  and towards
her home a little further on.
     Mrs. Bradshaw!  As lovely a woman that ever existed,  at
least in my own mind, that is.  With long wavy brown hair and a
soft curvy,  full figure,  she was the object of many of my wet
dreams.  Whenever I was around her I would secretly watch the way
she moved, watch her smile and the way her modest and elegant
clothing would reveal and conceal her womanly charms.
     Her husband was some sort of big-shot insurance executive
and a active civic leader.  He served on several community
committees and was the senior Deacon of the Eastside Community
Church.( ECC ) Very solid citizen, very respected and very OLD!
     Even at my tender age of fifteen I was aware of the May-
December nature of their marriage and often wondered why such a
beautiful woman as Mrs. Bradshaw would marry a man that was
easily thirty years her senior.  Coleene was the epitomy of grace
and charachter.  She,  at least partially,   along with her
husband were among the mainstays of the of the ECC.  Coleene was
the head of the ECC's women's auxiliary, the youth director and
also president of the community's Ladies Garden Club.
     I watched her car dissapear around the bend of the road and
mused that if she had seen me,   would she have given me a ride
on to my home.  At the supermarket where I bagged groceries I had
on many occasions felt the soft richness of the leather seats of
her Cadillac and wondered what it would be like to sit in the
seat next to her.
     Usually I followed this road a few hundred yards farther and
then cut across the meadow to where our house was located,  but
tonight,  mostly on impulse,  I turned towards the woods and made
my way by the obfuscated moon light over a slight ridge towards
Mrs. Bradshaw's house.
     The high cinder block wall surrounding their place was next
to impossible to climb unaided,  but with the help of a small
deadfall laid against the blocks,  I scaled it with ease, 
dropping softly to the groud on the other side.  The general
layout of the place was familar to me as several times she had
hired me to help with some of the yard maintenance and general
grunt work.
     Keeping to the shawdows, I worked my way around the tennis
courts and to the front of the house far enough to see her car in
the wide driveway.  Her husband's Lincon was not visible.  It
could be in the garage but I doubted that, because the spring
weather was mild and with their secure grounds there was no
reason to put it in the garage.    Carefully working my way
around to the far side and towards the back of the house, I came
to their bedroom window, which was lit.  I could only surmise
that because they felt secure in their walled compound they felt
no need for heavy curtains.  The amber colored sheer curtains
certainall looked beautiful,  but concealed little of the
interior of room.
     From my vantage point, looking across the wide bedroom,  the
archway leading to their private bathroom was clearly visible. 
She was nowhere to be seen.  This was a good place to peep into
her window as it was protected by several small shrubs and about
fifteen feet to my left a part of the house extended out some
twenty feet,  forming a small cul-de-sac.
     The bed was huge!  It  looked to be a king-size plus,
waterbed with a richly fashiond wood pedestal. Her vanity was
easily ten feet wide with small lights along the top of the
mirror.  There was a smart looking white soft looking couch, a
few coffe tables and several cushioned chairs.  It was a most
inviting scene.  If only Coleene was there.
     As if on cue,  she entered the room carrying a magazine and
a light sweater. Throwing the magazine on the bed she went to the
vanity and began to undo her hair. After removing the bobby pins
and such, her long brown hair cascaded down her back in long wavy
shocks.
     I was pleased that she was still fully dressed because that
meant maybe I would get to see her naked.  I had spied on my
sisters many times and got as much of a thrill at watching them
undress as in seeing them naked. 
     Still standing she began to unbutton her blouse.  As each
button was unfastened my cock began to twitch. One button, one
twitch.  I wished that she had a zillion buttons.
     From my position I could see her reflection in the large
mirror,  so in effect I could see both sides of her at the same
time.  Tits and ass together, as it should be.
     Her blouse was removed to reveal a very nice upper body. 
Apparantly she always underdressed to conceal her shapely tits,
because they were much larger than I had suspected. She was
slightly overweight, not much. Just enough to make all of her
curves nice and soft and full looking.  Just right.
     Next to be gone were her shoes and socks and then her razor
sharp creased pants.  As she lowered them to the floor I was
greeted with a excellent view of her smooth rounded ass encased
in light blue panties that matched her satin bra.
     Coleene then sat down on the padded chair and began to brush
her hair.  I was mesmerized watching her breasts sway back and
forth with each stroke of the brush. My cock was growing steadly
now as I could plainly see the delicate lace of her bra trying to
hold those sensuous titties.  I couldn't wait to see her remove
her dainty underthings.  I undid the buttons of my 501's and
pulled my now hard cock out to get better access.  I spat on my
hand for lubrication and began the slow journey to paradise.  At
home I preferred to use vaseline for lubrication as it lasted
much longer and gave me that great slippery feeling as my
uncircumsized foreskin glided back and forth over my cockhead. 
     My mind was reeling at the prospect of what I might witness
this night.  Would she simply put on her night things and read
the magazine she had thrown on the bed.  Would she take a shower
and let me see her dripping wet.  Or ...  would she masturbate,
using some unusual device or object,  or ...?
     After finishing her hair she went to the walk in cedar lined
closet and emerged putting a lacy house coat about her body.  To
my dissapointment she then went out of the bedroom to do what I
hadn't a clue.  No mind, I thought.  It just will heighten the
intensity of my enjoyment when she does return. With that I began
to weave a pattern in my mind of me between her soft a lovely
legs with my cock buried to the hilt.

                            ~~~~~~~~

     I had just a slight forewarning of the impending doom as a
small twig snapped under her approaching foot.
     "Put your hands up,  or I'll  shoot." 
     Her words penetrated my mind like a steel sword thrust into
a soft melon. Mrs. Bradshaw had come around the corner of the
house behind me and was pointing a very large semi-automatic
pistol at my head.  I almost fainted right there.
     "Come out here into the light.  I've got a gun and I won't
hesitate to use it."  Her voice was shrill and piercing.
     I stumbled foreward a few steps where she could see me. I
was speechless.  Was she going to shoot me?  My whole body
trembled as I tried to gather my wits about me.
     "Why ... why ... you're Andrew Patterson,  Lora and
Richard's son!"  She was fairly shouting at me.  Looking at me
closer she said. "Put that thing back in your pants. It's
disgusting."
     Hastily I tried to do as she said. It hadn't had time to
soften so it took a little fumbling around to get in and buttoned
up.
     "Walk ahead of me, we're going inside to call the police."
She commanded.
     Mrs. Bradshaw,  the woman of my wet dreams,  coldly hearded
me in the back door and along a hallway with several turns and
doors into a room that was surely the den. I hardly noticed the
rich wood paneling or the giant tv, or the comfortable sturdy
couches and chairs about the family lounging room.
     "Set there."  She instructed, pointing to one of the couches
angled towards the tv.  "I am shocked at you, Andrew.  You have
violated my home, my bedroom and my privacy.  I feel as if you
have raped me in the most brutal way.  What do you have to say
for yourself?"
     My mind was still reeling and I mumbled a ... "I'm sorry
Mrs. Bradshaw. I don't know what I was thinking."  I knew very
well what I was thinking.  I wanted to jack-off while watching
her.
     "This is terrible, despicable and loathsome.  How could you
do this to me.  What have I done to you?" She was so mad that her
voice was cracking and she had to repeat some of her words. 
"Tell me, you little creep.  Why my house? I'm calling the police
now!" She grabbed the phone on the end table next to where she
was sitting on the couch opposite me.
     "No!  Please don't!  I'm sorry. I'll never do it again." I
wailed.  If my mom and dad found out, it would crush them. They
deserved better than this from me.  "Please don't call the cops!
I'll do anything to make it up to you. But please dont't tell on
me."
     She stared into my eyes for what seemed a long time before
she spoke.  "Tell me one good reason for me not to turn you in."
Her eyes blazed at me as she spoke. "This is a terrible thing you
have done to me."
     "I know it's awful." I said.  But I noticed that the
shrillness had left her voice and she seemed a little calmer now.
"It's just that you are so beautiful and I wanted to be close to
you." It was lame, but the truth.
     "You are close to me every Sunday at church. Why this?"  She
spat the words at me.  She was referring to her work as the Youth
Director, where during the summer months, she spent a lot of time
with us kids,  trying to keep us out of trouble.  "I know that
you have been taught better than this.  Well,  what do you have
to say for yourself?" She kept asking questions, without giving
me a chance to answer.
     She was still  sitting on the opposite couch.  I  watched
the tiny lines around her eyes and mouth wrinkle and relax, as
she continued  to scold me.  She was hunched slightly forward
with her elbows resting on her knees as she spoke.  Her legs were
spread apart quite far,  the cordless phone in one hand and the
semi-auto dangling from the fingers of her other hand.  The belt
of her house coat had loosened to allow her legs to be completely
exposed.
     She was completely unaware that I could see her satin undies
and most of her lacy bra.  The aureole and her pink nipples were
faintly visible through the delicate lace of the satin
foundation. Her panties were not the brief type, they had no
elastic in the about the legs.  The material was loose and free
flowing.
     I was surprised to notice that my cock was starting to
harden as I looked at her breasts and legs.  The 501s that I had
on were cut-offs.  As I looked at Coleene, my lengthing cock
peeped out of the leg of my cut-offs.
     She didn't notice my dick looking at her until I shifted my
position and adjusted it with my hand. Just like the baseball
players do.
     She starred directly at my pulsing cock for a few moments
without saying a word.  She was blushing and I noticed when she
started talking again,  her tone was much softer.
     "Are you getting excited?" She asked.  Again before I could
answer she noticed that she was exposing a lot of flesh to me and
drew her house coat about her.  "Does looking at my underweare
make you get an erection?"
     "It's that and more."  I managed to stammer.
     "I'm at least twenty years older than you are.  I didn't
think young men would see a woman of my age as sexy."  She put
the phone back on the end table and laid the gun on a cushion
next to her.
     I felt a lot better now, not so scared,  but a little
confused at her softer demeanor.  "All my life I have been
interested in females that were older than me." I ventured. 
Trying to get a feel for the direction she was going.

     "Not only am I older than you but maybe a little on the
heavy side.  Only young and slim girls should be of interest to a
boy of your age."
     "In my eyes you are perfect." I responded.
     Watching me closely she continued.  "Then you don't think
that I should lose a few pounds.  In my bikini a little of me has
started to spill over here and there."
     "Not at all!  I love the way all of your curves are soft and
rounded, ... and, ... umm ... "  Lowering my eyes to the floor
and in a whisper I said. "I'd love to see you in a bikini."
     "Well,  Andrew,  you are full of surprises, arn't you.  You
have given me a different insight into how a young man thinks." 
Colleene was looking at me intently,  but had laid back on the
sofa into a relaxed position. As she surprised my by saying.  "I
am not so sure that calling the police would serve much of a
useful purpose.  Maybe if I had a talk with your parents we could
work this thing out among ourselves."  Her voice was harder again
as she apparantly considered the alternatives.
     "Oh! No! Not my mom and dad!" I wailed.  "I would just as
soon that you called the cops!  At least they won't lecture me
and tell me how bad I've been."
     She considered this for several minutes. At first,  I didn't
know what to do or say,  so I reverted back to what I thought had
began her more understanding attitude.  It was a bold measure I
was about to take, but I thought it was worth the gamble.
     As casually as I could,  I reached fully inside my cut-offs
with my hand a repositioned my hard cock.  Her eyes followed my
every movement,  as I grasped my cock and shifted it to the other
side of the inseam of my pants.
     I expected her to protest at my boldness,  but instead she
facinated by me handling my cock in her presence. "You can spank
me or make me work hard, but please don't tell my parents.  I'll
never peep in a window again,  I promise!"
     Again, she was silent for several minutes.  I still had my
hand in my pants as she spoke.  "If I decide to help you, you'll
have to promise to do as I say with no argument."
     A flood of relief swept over me as I began to realize that
not only would she not tell on me but we would be in contact with
each other.  Just the sound of her voice talking to me was enough
to make my cock twitch.  "OH, Yes!  I'll do whatever you say!" I
blurted out.
     "Now this may not be as easy as you think,  because if we
are to help you to overcome this nasty habit,  you'll have to be
very honest with me."  Her tone was melodious to me.  "First we
have to determine what we are dealing with, but first lets have a
drink."
     "Come over here."  She said as she moved to the wet bar. "We
have Coke, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Sprite or root beer."
     "Root beer will be fine." I said.
     I couldn't believe it!  A half hour ago I was sure that I
was on the way to juvie hall,  and now we are setting at her wet
bar together.  After she had poured my root beer over the
sparkling ice cubes and given herself a generous white wine, we
returned to the couches.
     "Andrew, I need to ask you a few things that are very
personal.  Is that OK?"
     "Sure. Fine with me, go ahead."
     She seemed to phrase her questions with some care and
started out somewhat tenative.  "How much sexual experience have
you had?"  There was a slight shine to her eyes as she asked me
that. "Now, tell me the truth.  I'll know if you lie to me."
     I doubted that she could tell if I lied,  but what the hell, 
I wanted to tell her about my sexual life anyway.  "What do you
mean?"  I toyed with her. "Do you mean the first time I fucked or
jacked-off?"  The dirty words made the shine in her eyes grow
brighter.
     "Well, ... ah, ... Lets start with when you first discoverd
your sexuality.  Tell me about the first time that you had a
sexual experience.  That could be anything that has to do with
sex,  not necessarily having intercourse."
     Pausing for a few moments, I then began with ..."I remember
when I was quite young, about six or seven,  that my older
brothers and sisters would talk about,  'doing it.'  It wasn't
very clear what 'it,' was,  but I knew that it had to do with
something that was between a girls legs.  About this same time
there was this older girl in our neighborhood that would take me
into her bedroom and show me her pussie and take my pants off and
feel my prick.  While she was feeling me she would be
masturbating herself and telling me all about how to fuck, suck,
jack-off and anything else about sex that she could think of."
     Colleene was listining very intently to what I had to say
and asked me.  "What age was the girl that showed you her
vagina?"
     "I'm not sure exactly,  but I'd guess about eleven or
twelve."
     "Why did she pick you to show herself to?"
     "She told me that for a kid, I had a nice body and was the
most mature boy in the neighborhood,  and that she felt that I
would enjoy what she had to offer."
     Mrs.Bradshaw refilled her wine glass and continued. "Uh ,,,
did you touch the girl,  in a sexual way?"
     I think she was asking me if we fucked and for a second or
two I considered telling her that we had,  but I wasn't that
great of a liar so I told the truth.  "No. The most that we did
was for her lie on her back and she taught how to suck her
titties.  She would have me give her hickys on the underside of
her tits,  you know so that they didn't show, and sometimes she
would put a pillow under her rear end and spread her legs wide
apart and have me work the end of her hairbrush in and out of her
pussy."
     "Where were her parents? Did you do it while they were at
home?"
     "No. We would play with each other in the afternoons before
her mom got home from work. I think her parents were divorced. I
never saw her dad."
     Colleen asked several more questions about me and the girl
and had another glass of wine.  By now she was getting much more
friendly and more inqusitive.
     "How long have you been jacking-off?"  Was her next inquiry.
     Again, I was a little coy.  "Do you mean how long have I
been stroking my cock,  or how long that I have been squirting my
cum?"
     She shifted in her seat on the opposit couch and allowed her
legs to spread apart enough to be interesting.  "The first time
that you shot the cum out of your cock!"
     Her more base demeanor caught me a little by surprise. 
"Well after Mandy,  that was the girl who exposed herself to me, 
it was natural for me to continue to play with my cock.  I would
try most anything that felt good,  like sticking my cock in a
baggie with vaseline and squeezing it between two pillows.  But
the first time I squirted cum, it was a  surprise to me."  I was
warming to the questions and put my hand in my cut-offs and was
gently squeezing my stiff dick.
     This action was not lost on Colleen,  as she was fidgiting
about on the sofa.  Her squirming caused her house robe to fall
open so that I could see the lucious cleavage of her pale white
breasts. They heaved with each breath she took.
     I continued. "By the age of eleven I had experiminted with
many ways to make my cock feel good,  but the one that was the
most convenient was to put vaseline on the head of my cock and
just stroke it with my hand."
     Colleen interupted with.  "Why vaseline?  Why not spit on
your dick like you did outside my window?"  She blushed a little
at revealing that she had watched me briefly before brandishing
the gun at me. She later told me that she wouldn't have know that
someone was outside her window, except that she glimpsed my white
shirt in the reflection of her vanity mirror.
     "It's that I'm not circumsized and by using vaseline,  the
foreskin glides over the cockhead much smoother  and besides spit
dries to fast."
     "Why not use KY jelly?"
     "Oh, I've tried KY, but it doesn't lubricate as good and
doesn't last as long as vaseline."
     "I see."  Her words trailed off before she continued.  "You
were about to tell me the first time you squirted cum. What age
were you?"
     "Eleven years old.  I had just had my eleventh birthday a
few weeks before.  It was on a Sunday morning before leaving for
church.  I was sitting on the edge of my bed stroking my cock and
looking at some fuck pictures that I had found in a trash bin
outside of a bar on San Carlos street.  I had my pants down aroun
my ankles and was really going at it when something changed.  In
the past when I jacked my dick it felt good, but that was about
all.  This time it was different.  My feelings were deeper and
more urgent.  As I increased my speed this overwhelming feeling
of excitement kept getting stronger and stronger,  when all of a
sudden this white stuff started to goosh out of my cock.  I
thought for a second that I had broken something.  I was
completely unaware that was supposed to happen.  It got all over
my  Sunday best pant legs.  I told mom that I had spilled my
breakfast cereal milk on them.  It felt so good I knew that this
was not the last time that I'd stroke my vaseling covered pole."
     "What were you thinking about while you stroked your dick. 
Did you think about girls or what?"
     "Not girls, just one girl.  Do you remember the Montoya
family that lived on the old Duggan place?"
     "Not to well,  but as I remember they had several boys and
just one daughter."
     "That's them.  Her name was Melinda and I had a terrible
crush on her.  She knew it liked to tease me.  She would let me
'help,' change her blouse and bra.  When I got a boner she would
just grin and walk away.  I can still see her smooth and rounded
titties.  Oh, how I wanted to suck on them."
     "Did you ever get to?"
     "No.  Melinda just liked to give me a hard on.  She had
several older boyfriends,  you know,   her age."
     Colleen was very interested in my sexual adventures and
asked me question after question for some time,  all the while I
would put my hand in and out of my pants,  squeezing my stiff
cock and wishing that by some miracle her bra and panties would
fall off. She was particularlly interested to my jacking off and
the girls that I had fucked.  She was surprised and amused when I
told her that I had fingered Alexia Morrison in the choir loft
and asked me all sorts of questions about other girls and boys
that she knew  and what their sexual practices were.  I did my
best to answer without snitching on my friends.  But, I was still
confused about what she had in mind, however, I was patient and
finally she revealed her intintions.

                              ~~~~
     "When I was a little girl I wanted to smoke like the big
girls did.  I thought it was neat to have cigarettes and feel all
grown up."   She had a vacant look on her face.  It was like
Colleen was talking to someone else in the room. It was weird. 
"My dad was a preacher and didn't hold with using tobacco,  but
he was also quite wise.  When he found out I was fooling around
with cigarettes he called me into his study and after a stern
lecture,  he made me smoke several packs of unfiltered
cigarettes.  He watched me to make sure that I inhaled and added
a few cigars.  Needles to say I was sick for days and after that
I just didn't care to smoke anymore."
     "How old was you?" I asked.
     She smiled and went on. "About eleven,  about your age." Her
eyes were dancing and she looked quite mischevious.  "As I see
it,  the best way to help you to stop this peeping thing is to
allow you to do it untill it isn't a mystery to you anymore."
     "What!  What did youuu  saaayyy?"  I couldn't believe what
she had just said.   Did she say that I should peep in windows
again.
     "While watching a girl what do you do?"   A rhetorical
question,  she knew the answer, she was just defining the terms
of our soon to be 'arrangement.'  "You jack-off don't you." 
     I was still reeling from her previous suggestion,  and I
stammered a little as I spoke.  " Well ...  it,  it depends on
how good's the show I'm watching.  If it some fat old bag,  I
just look for another window.  Sometimes I get lucky and see a
girl undressing or doing excersizes and I jack-off and try to cum
at the best part of whatever she is doing."
     "Does that always work for you?"
     "No. Most times either she turns out the light before I am
through or something else happens to make me leave before I have
had a chance to squirt my cum."
     "You were stroking your cock outside my window,  how close
were you to cumming?"
     "I had a good hard on,  but I was pacing myself because I
figured that I had a lot of time to watch you undress and such."
     "What do you mean by 'such'?"
     "Well it's a fantasy of mine to see a girl masturbate."
     Colleen's speech now had a slight slur and her breathing was
a faster to match the slight flush of her face.  "If I let you go
now,  would you go straight home and jack-off,  or would you try
to find a window to peep in?  Don't lie!  I'll know if you do."
     She watched me closely as I considered my answer.  She had
moved forward to the edge of the sofa and was even leaning
towards me.  She seemed to have forgot about her house robe as it
was falling off her shouders and I could clearly see her
beautiful satin bra and a goodly amount of cleavage as well.  "I
would proably try to find a window so I could get off."
     "I thought so.  If I am to help you,  you must keep it a
secret.  Do you agree?  You can't tell anyone what we do or say."
     "Yes."
     Colleen then moved from the sofa and knelt on the plus
carpet a few feet in front of me.  Her knees were parted somewhat
and she took off the house robe, letting it fall to the floor
beside her.  Using both hands she pressed in the sides of her
bountiful breasts,  presenting them for my inspection.  "Do you
really think I'm beautiful?  Look at my tits and pretend you are
watching from outside."
     I was meshmerized by her undulating body and increasing
breathing.  She was now moving her hands up and down from her
tits to her hips and then with one hand on her tummy she squeezed
a nipple through her bra. "Do what you would do if you were
watching me."
     Her eyes never left my crotch as I stood up and slowly
unbuttoned my cut-offs.  My cock was straining to be free and as
I lowered my pants it quickly made a tent in my boxers.  I
shifted sideways a little and the head of my cock found the
opening and jumped out.  Throbbing and wanting attention.
     Colleen was still on her knees and swaying gently form side
to side.  "Take it out and stroke it.  I want to make sure you
squirt your load before you go home."  She had a slight line of
perspiration on her upper lip and unconsciously she was gently
thrusting her hips back and forth at me.
     I pushed my boxers down to the floor  and my cock stood out
horizontal from my bushy cock base.  I stroked back and forth
slowly a few times but it was hard to pull the foreskin all the
way back for a full stroke.  "It would be better if I had some
vaseline for my cock.  It would slide better."
     "Yes,  I can see that."  Without hesitation she went
somewhere and returned with a jar of vaseline,  holding for me
while got some with my finger.
     I put some on my cock and worked it around before I started
to jack-off in earnest.  I was taking long,  full strokes.  The
cockhead would disappear and reappear as my hand flew along the
shaft.  After only a few minutes I knew I couldn't last much
longer.  Being so close to her was putting my into sensory
overload.  But I wanted more than to see her pretty bra.  "Take
off you bra."  I grunted.
     "Oh. I couldn't do that."
     "It may not be possible for me to cum if you don't."
     She considered that for a few moments, then she turned away
from me and I could see her fussing with her bra.  She pulled the
shoulder straps down and brought her arms up through them.  When
she turned back to face me I was delighted.  "Is this better?" 
She had turned the cups inside themselves so that the bra had in
effect become a half bra.  Her dark pink of her areola dancing
just above to top of her bra and the now hard nipples just out of
sight.
     I almost shot my cum right then.  "You're beautiful."
     She blushed slightly,  but said nothing.
     My cock was hard enough to break concrete by now and I was
taking long full strokes.  She seemed fascinated by the rapid
appearance/disappearance of my cockhead as I grasped my fuck pole
with my hand.
     "What are you thinking about?"  She was now moving her hands
over her tits and the inside of her thighs.  I wanted her to put
her hand in her underwear,  but she would only quickly brush the
front of her pussy through her satin underear.
     "How good it would feel if my cock was buried in your hot
cunt."  I was now standing in front of her and my cock was at her
eye level.  I knew that I couldn't last much longer before my
cock erupted it's creamy lava.  "I'm about to squirt my cum, 
where do you want me to shoot it?"  I was thinking about a towel
or her house robe,  or something like that.
     She surprised me by saying ... "Right here,  on my tits!" 
With that she pulled her bra down to her waist and knee walked to
where my cock was inches from the cleavage of her tits.  "Shoot
it in here."  She voice was trembling and she had finally put a
hand inside her underwear.
     By leaning sideways a little,  I could see her hand pumping
furiously at her cunt.
     "Now!  Now!  Shoot it now!  I'm  about to cummmm.  Let me
feel your sticky goo on my tits!  Oh!  Shoot it!  Squirt it on
me,  now ... now!
     That did it for me!  My cock gushed forth with a display of
cum like Niagra Falls.  It gushed spurt after spurt on her tits
and neck.  With one spurt I raised my cock up and it hit her in
slack mouth.
     When the cum started to flow she was moaning ... "Yes!  Yes! 
I'm doing ittt!  Yes,  yyyeeeesssssss!"  And she fell over onto
the fine plush white carpet,  her tits pointing to the ceiling, 
with the cum looking like snow caps on the Alps.
     For several minutes Colleen lay there without moving,  her
breasts heaving with each breath.  Finally she sat up and took
off her bra and wiped my cock with it and then wiped the major
part of my cum from her swelled tits.  "You had better go now." 
Her voice was low and she had a hard time looking me in the eye.
     With one hand holding her cum soaked bra to her breasts, 
and the other holding a pencil she asked for my phone number and
she said she would call me when she wanted to do my next
counciling session.  I guess she then realized that she couldn't
call my house for fear of her voice being recognized.  "It would
be best if you called me.  My husband is away from home a lot and
even when he is here he rarely answers the phone.  If he does,
just hang up."  She wrote her number on a small scented notepad
and thrust it in my hand.
     I made my way out the front door and out of the walk gate
near the main driveway and after a brisk walk across the moonlit
meadow,  I quietly made it to my bedroom without waking mom and
dad.
     My cock was still eagar for more action and so was I.  My
head was full of nasty thoughts and excited at what had happened
to me with Colleen.  I couldn't believe my good luck.  When I had
started for Mrs. Bradshaws's house earlier, my best expectation
was to maybe see her naked and for me to jack-off into the
bushes.  After going to the bathroom and cleaning up, I laid on
my bed for some time trying to go to sleep.
     My bedside clock read a few minutes past 2:00 am,  and sleep
was still a remote possibility.  I kept thinking about the little
slip of paper with Colleen's phone number on it.
     "Hello.  Hello.  Who is this?"  Colleen's voice sounded
dreamy to me.  "Hello.  Do you know what time it is?  Who is
this?"
     "Did I awake you?"  I was almost afraid to breathe, my voice
was shaking.  "It's me."
     "Andrew,  is that you?"  Her voice was soft and smooth.
     "I didn't mean to call so late,  I hope you were not
asleep."
     "No. It's OK.  What do you want?  Does your mom allow you to
talk on the phone so late at night?"
     "She doesn't know.  This is my private line,  I pay for it
myself,  no one answeres it but me and I keep it under my pillow
so that if it rings no one but me will hear it."
     "Don't you think it's a little late to be calling?  What did
you want?"
     "Oh.  Nothing.  I was just wondering if you were in bed. 
I'm sorry for calling so late.  Good night."
     "Goodnight,  Andrew."  Her voice was still soft and dreamy.
     Again,  after tossing and turning for what seemed an
eternity,   sleep still eluded me as I visualized her swabing my
cum from her beautiful creamy white tits.  I fantisized about
what it would feel like to suck on those lucious mounds.

                              ~~~~

     I was almost asleep when the phone under my pillow began to
ring.
     "Andrew.  Are you asleep yet?"  Colleen's voice was low and
husky.
     "No,  I'm just laying her on my bed."
     "What are you wearing?  I'm on my back with my legs spread a
mile apart and your cum is still on my tits, ...