textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/anniesad.txt

Archive-name: 3plus/anniesad.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Orphan Annie's Adventures - 1 through 7


     This last weekend was a surprise for me, the first time  I'd
"done" a married man (though god knows I've looked at 'em in  the
past!).  When it was all through, though, he could say he'd still
been (mostly) faithful.

     I  threw this small party for a dozen or so  friends  Friday
night,  sort of a kickoff for the July 4 weekend.  John  came  up
from  The  City,  on  his way to  the  Sierras  for  a  weekend's
backpacking, something his wife never really liked.  I think  she
went  home to mother, or somesuch.  Anyhow, the party went  late,
and  when it was breaking up, John asked if he could stay on  the
sleeper in the living room, rather than try to drive on at  night
to a dark campground.  I said sure.

     John  and  I made up the sleeper and then I went to  take  a
shower.   When  I  came out, in my robe, he was in  the  bed  and
reading. I said goodnight and turned to head for my bedroom  when
he made some funny comment about what he'd just read.  I  laughed
too, and went over to see more.  When he showed me the article, I
recognized it and we started talking.  I was soon sitting on  the
side of his bed, listening and watching.  As I looked I  realized
what  a real cutie he really was--all that dark hair, the  strong
shoulders  (all I could see of his body), and those  great  teeth
that showed when he smiled.  I got to thinking what a great  find
his  wife had.  Then, somehow, he made some gesture and his  hand
ended up on my leg--and I really don't know how to explain  this,
but  my hand suddenly went there on top of his.  He looked at  me
funny  and  gave me a gentle squeeze as he tried  to  pull  away,
which  I returned.  He smiled and said, "Ann, I can't.   Really."
You know, The Speech.

     I  just murmured and bent down to kiss him.  Of course,  the
robe  fell open and of course his hand went inside it  and  about
halfway  through the kiss I knew we were in trouble.  We sort  of
stayed that way for a while and then I moved my legs up onto  the
bed.   His hand went from my side to my back, and his other  hand
went  to my butt, stroking it gently.  I pulled the  covers  from
under  me and ran my hand down his chest and across his  stomach.
He was so strong, too!  I nibbled on his ear and he just moaned.

     Well, this was fun and all that, but he was right, he WAS (I
mean,  "is") married, after all.  His hand was now on  my  breast
and  I  was going to have to decide something, soon.   I  made  a
decision, sat up, and then swung my leg over to straddle him.  He
looked disappointed as I sat up, and then delighted as I moved my
leg across his body.  He was on his back and I was sitting across
his thighs.

     Now  he  could  put both hands on my  breasts.   He  was  so
strong, and yet so gentle!  His hands just sort of came up my rib
cage  and  stroked my breasts from underneath to the  nipple.   I
found I could sort of sag into his palms.  I grabbed his cock and
began  to  stroke it, and then every once in a while,  needing  a
little  oral contact, I bent down and kissed him or let him  suck
my tits.  I was warm all over and every part of him I touched was
warm, too.

     Then  his  hand went around and began to play with  my  butt
again.   I  lifted myself up and moved up until  I  was  directly
above  his cock.  I was really wet by now and could feel  my  cum
running out.  I set my pussy on his balls and just stroked it  up
his  shaft.  Up, lift, back, down, again and again. His cock  was
really  getting wet!  He just moaned, and then moved his hand  to
grab  both my cheeks.  He tried to move me just that bit  farther
up to where he could slide in, and I really wanted to, but I knew
things would be different tomorrow and next week.  "No," I  said,
"but wait."  He was getting even longer and really throbbing!

     His hand began alternating from my breasts to my butt.   His
legs went up and then down, and I could feel his pelvis thrusting
in  time  to my stroking.  His eyes were squeezed shut  and  that
great smile of his was all across his face!

     I  could  feel myself throbbing, too.  I was  working  up  a
sweat  (I  almost laughed out loud when I realized I'd  now  need
ANOTHER shower!) but he felt so good beneath me I couldn't  stop.
My  clit  was bumping the top of his cock every time  I  slid  up
there  and  I was just about out  of  control  until--THERE!--and
there again!--and again!--I was coming and the contractions  just
wouldn't stop.  I collapsed onto him, with my legs wrapped around
his  thighs  and my feet tucked between his  calves,  my  breasts
crushed against his chest, and his hands stroking my butt and  my
back.   I really don't think he came, but he was  looking  really
good!   Besides, it was too wet down there to really tell in  the
half light.

     I  would have loved to stay all night. But, like I said,  he
was  married  and  it just wouldn't do to have  SLEPT  with  him.
After  a few moments I tore myself away and staggered back to  my
bed,  firmly and quietly shutting the door behind me  (no  ideas,
John!).

     I  was  asleep  almost  before I was in  my  own  bed  (cold
sheets!).  When I awoke, it was late Sunday morning and John  was
gone.   He'd stripped the bed and left a pile of  musky  smelling
sheets.  I'm sure he had to hike a few extra miles to get me  out
of his system!


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 2nd Adventure>>>>>

     I  don't  know about for all of you down in the  chilly  Bay
Area, but up here the weather was really nice Saturday.  So nice,
in  fact,  that  it  encouraged me to engage  in  another  of  my
exploits.  Not that I planned it, of course.

     I  packed  a lunch and headed for the river,  the  afternoon
being just too hot, even for mint juleps in the back yard.  There
was  some  barbecued chicken and a couple of  Calistogas  in  the
fridge, so I threw them into the cooler with some ice, pulled  on
a  swimsuit  and covered it with some other  clothes,  grabbed  a
towel and a book, and left.

     I  have this favorite unnamed spot by the river,  sandy  but
not  too populated.  You have to know the river roads to find  it
and  I  guess that even though it's a pretty good beach  not  too
many people know about it.  That's an advantage of being a local.
When I parked I knew by the absence of other cars that there were
very  few other people there, and when I walked onto the beach  I
found one couple near the trail back to the cars, another  couple
far down the beach, and this one guy about halfway down.  I'm not
terribly shy, and decided to have a bit of fun.

     He  saw  me coming and I saw him looking me over.   I'm  not
Fawn  Hall,  but  I  get my share of  admiring  looks;  this  was
apparently one of them.  As I walked towards the guy I could  see
he  was  worthy  of some admiring looks himself:   he  was  young
(maybe  23--I never did find out), trim, nicely groomed  and  not
too  hairy.  He also wasn't pasty white--you know, the  way  some
guys  get  who spend too much time at a VDT.  So I  just  set  my
things down sort of near him, but not right next to him, just  to
see how he'd react.  I stood with my back to him as I pulled  off
my shirt, being sure to stretch my back as I did so.  I also made
sure  that  as I spread the towel out I was facing him,  so  that
when  I bent down he could see my tits (not the swimsuit  doesn't
gap THAT much, but he had a nice view of what little there  is!).
I pretended to accidentally pull down my swimsuit bottom a bit as
I  pulled  off my shorts.  Then I laid down and reached  for  the
sunscreen.

     The  sunscreen  makes  me  glisten,  though  I  was  already
beginning  to  do so just from the sun's heat.  I spread  it  all
over, being sure to let him see how I tucked it under my top  and
massaged  my inner thighs.  I lifted first one leg and  then  the
other (a little Jane Fonda workout, here!) as I did the backs  of
the calves.

     Just  as I was finishing my front, my audience got  up  from
his  chair  and walked over--a bit stiffly, as he was  trying  to
hide  a nice erection.  His buns hardly wiggled as  he  walked--a
real nice ass.  He offered to put the oil on my back (men are  SO
predictable!).  Well, I thought I'd let that one linger a bit  as
I opened a Calistoga and gave it a nice suck, and then found  out
his name was Bill, that he had gone to the same JC as I, and that
he was indeed a few years younger than me.  I handed him the  oil
and flipped over onto my stomach.  I reached behind and undid the
knot at my back and asked him to go ahead.

     Bill  has done this before--he warmed the oil in his  hands,
and started rubbing it in smoothly at first, then later  kneading
the muscles.  I always appreciate experienced men!  He stared  at
the  center  of my back, worked his way up to my  shoulders,  and
then came down my sides.  I let him feel a bit of my breasts, but
just the sides.  He worked down to the waistline and then started
on my thighs.  He was giving me nice, long, slippery strokes,  as
he  worked  his hand up to my butt.  He paid a lot  of  attention
there, sliding his hand beneath the suit more than once and  more
than  a  little  distance.  He was enjoying this as  much  as  I,
though it WAS getting to be a bit more than I'd first planned.

     We had been talking but soon that degenerated into a  series
of  murmurs as I just relaxed in the warm sun massaged  by  warm,
knowing  hands with warm oil.  I would have fallen asleep  except
that  my  butt  is  a very sensual place and  I  think  Bill  was
beginning  to  discover  that.   Eventually,  I  reached  for  my
waistband and simply lifted my butt enough to push the bottom  of
my  suit  down a bit; he pulled it the rest of the  way  off  and
finished massaging and oiling all of my bottom.  After awhile  he
sat across the top of my things and began to work my back  again,
but this time very clearly he was reaching around to my front  to
my nipples.  Then he simply lay down on my back and I could  feel
his very hard cock nestled into my crack; it felt fine!

     I opened my eyes and the other couples were not watching  us
at  all.   I had Bill push up for a moment and I rolled  over  to
take him into my arms.  He kissed me gently and I used my lips to
nibble  his.  My legs were together but his cock felt just  fine,
resting  just  above my clit, very clearly a  situation  we  both
wanted to do something about.

     My shirt comes to just below my butt, so I had him reach for
it and we took a walk over to a nearby grove of willows.  You can
imagine  the rest.  After we were through, it was getting  to  be
late afternoon and I let him go--I don't think he ever learned my
name, and I don't know his last name.  But that beach'll never be
the  same, and the willows are now named the "Mr.  Bill  Memorial
Grove"--at least by me.


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 3rd Adventure>>>>>

     When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn.   Beside
me,  the bed was empty, warm but empty.  I rolled over,  sleepily
still,  in  search of the wonderful man who had brought  me  here
last  night,  and he was gone.  I discovered as I  came  to  that
hugging  the  pillow instead simply wasn't solace enough,  and  I
opened my eyes to look for him.

     The room was just beginning to warm--there was a soft breeze
coming  through the windows and the lace curtains sighed  gently.
Going  to  be another hot day, I thought, but where's  Larry?   I
listened, and there wasn't a sound.  Just the warmth and the musk
scent of the sheets.

     This  wouldn't do!  I'm not even sure where  this  apartment
is,  I've  no car, here it is 6:00 or some  ungodly  hour  Sunday
morning,  and  I'm  alone in a strange bed.   Well,  not  totally
strange...the champagne bottle in the bucket looked familiar...

     Then  I  heard a rasp from just outside the window,  on  the
porch,  and  saw  the  shadows change.   Larry?   or  a  cat?   I
reluctantly abandoned the warmth of the covers and fumbled for  a
robe I remembered being somewhere in the bedroom.  A very  light,
full  length cotton number, but enough so that at least  I  could
step  outside  and  be  seen as  decent.   Wanton,  perhaps,  but
decently dressed.

     There  was  Larry,  dressed  in  a  pair  of  boxers   only.
Gorgeous, muscular legs came out the bottom, and this very  well-
built chest was above.  On top, an aquiline face was squinting at
the  sunrise.   I  stepped  behind and  rested  my  chin  on  his
shoulder.   "Watcha  thinking, Larry?"  "Dunno, just  seemed  the
thing  to do right now."  "Wanna come back to bed with  me?   Are
you waiting for anything?"  "Naw, just maybe the sunrise."   "Can
I wait with you?"  "Sure, let's sit on the sofa."

     With  that,  we  sort  of fell onto  an  old,  white  wicker
loveseat he had on the porch.  I curled up, head on his lap,  and
began to drift off to sleep again.  His hand went to my waist and
I waited for the sun to warm us.

     The  sun  was  a  long time coming, and  I  curled  up  even
tighter.  His hand went to my butt and sort of snuggled me into a
comfortable position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure.

     In  a few minutes, though, he was moving  again.   "Coffee?"
"Uh, sure, so early?"  "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!"
He  was  gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard  the  pots
rattling.   It  wasn't yet really warm, so when he  came  back  I
must've  jumped right onto him.  I was sitting across  his  legs,
cupping  the coffee cup and lazing against his shoulder  with  my
legs pulled up close.

     "Larry,  wanna  screw?"  "Yeah, maybe, but let  me  wake  up
first."  "Larry, it's better when you're waking up.  Haven't  you
ever  awakened  already linked to someone?"  He shrugged,  but  I
noted  that  the boxers had a new bulge in them.  I put  my  hand
there and confirmed that it wasn't just he fold of the fabric.

     "Larry,  it  feels  to me like you're  ready  now."   I  was
whispering,  but  don't  know  why.  No  one  on  the  block  was
stirring.  We had the world to ourselves.  His fly was gaping, so
I  slipped my hand inside; Larry put his cup down and  then  took
mine away from me.  "Here?" he said.  "Sure," I purred.

     He  took his hand from my waist and moved it to  my  breast,
but  outside  the  robe.  My other hand was  pinned  against  his
chest,  so I had to release his manhood to move his  hand  inside
the  robe.   He was beginning to get the idea!  I  felt  a  warm,
coarse  hand gently massage my left boob, then brush the  nipple,
then  cup me like the balmy Sunday morning this was.   He  wasn't
rushing things, and neither was I.

     I  looked  up from my chest and saw him smiling  at  me.   I
leaned over and gave him the first kiss of the morning.   Gentle,
not  even  probing, just a kiss.  He returned it  the  same  way.
"Larry?"  "Mmmm?"  "The champagne would have been better than the
coffee..."   "OK, I'll remember.  You didn't get too  wired  yet,
did you?"  "Lemme show you.  Come here."  A gentle squeeze and  I
had his full attention, his mind and his heart following, as  the
expression goes.

     In fact, all I ever really wanted was a thousand percent  of
his attention.  I really get jealous Sunday mornings.  Jealous of
the  rest of the day, jealous of the telephone, jealous  even  of
the  sunrise.   Mornings are meant for me and a friend,  with  no
interruptions.  I think he was beginning to understand, but I had
to know.

     "Why'd  you get up so early?"  "I'm not used to someone  who
sleeps like you...it felt too good...has anyone ever told you how
easy  it  is  to share a bed with you?  And  I  don't  mean  just
sexually--just  that  you snuggle right in and at the  same  time
don't  push.   I'm not used to that, and I guess  I'm  afraid  of
losing  it."  "Larry, I'm here now.  Tomorrow is  tomorrow;  even
this afternoon is later.  Right now, I'm here.  I want you to be,
too."   He was caressing my nipple, now, and I was squeezing  him
every once in a while, just to remind him how very "there" I was.

     Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears.  I
tried  again,  a bit of a stretch for my neck from  where  I  was
sitting, but he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got  the
same reaction.  Gee, was Larry's middle name Pavlov?  I stretched
my legs out onto the sofa, and let the robe gap.  When he  opened
his eyes, the first thing he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my
breast  to touch them.  Here, too, he was gentle,  just  stroking
them at first, then slowly parting them as he moved up the inside
from my calves.  I just watched his eyes, as they darted from  my
face  to  his  hand and back again.  He kissed me  again,  and  I
returned  it  in French.  As my tongue went into his  mouth,  his
hand  found my pussy for the fist time that morning.  Ah,  timing
is everything!

     I  let  his  fingers move up and  down  my  lips,  searching
gently, probing softly, for an opening.  My mouth played with his
lips,  and  my  hand by now was stroking his  cock  to  its  full
height.   I shifted so my hips would be right next to his  balls,
and my hand on his shaft also rubbing his stomach.

     I  could feel him rustling around in my fur.  I was still  a
very little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry!   He
soon  found the source of all the moisture and his  fingers  just
swam through it.  I pulled his head down and let him know it  was
time  for some tongue work.  It was leisurely at first, and  then
he got adventuresome.  Just as his head almost wholly disappeared
under  the  robe,  the day's first car  drove  down  the  street,
stopping  at the stopsign just across the road.  What  are  these
people doing here?

     Time to go inside.  I pulled the robe together and stood up.
For  Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made  it
inside without anyone calling the rectitude enforcers.

     He climbed on the bed first and turned to me as I just stood
there and waited.  He beckoned and I put a knee up, allowing  him
to  grab  my thigh and the small of my back.  I let him  kiss  my
mouth, then down my throat and chest until the robe fell open and
I let it slide to the floor.  Larry pulled me up onto the bed and
then  kept going, kissing first each breast, then my  belly,  and
then  burying  himself in my forest.  My god, he was  good!   His
tongue  found and then circled my clit.  It found and  probed  my
secret  tunnel.  He ran down the smooth insides of my thighs  and
made  me  tingle from there to the top of my head.  I was  on  my
back, his hands underneath my butt, his head between my legs.   I
could  just  reach the back of his head with my hands,  but  soon
gave  that  up to hold my own breasts--I though I  was  going  to
explode if I didn't!

     His  tongue was bobbing up and down--my back was arching  in
time  with  his tongue.  I was sopping wet down my butt  and  all
over  the tops of my thighs.  We were going to have to roll  over
soon so he could get what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot!

     Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting.  I rolled  him
over  and  kissed  him, then straddled him.  I  really  like  the
penetration I get this way, and after last night I wanted to  try
this,  too,  with  him.  I mounted him, and  felt  him  push  the
muscles  aside  as he entered.  Gently at first,  for  his  shaft
wasn't  totally  wet  and some of  my  contractions  had  already
started.   His hands went to my breasts and he was  just  playing
with the nipples; I had never seen them so long!  And I just kept
finding  more and more length to him, too--I could feel him  deep
inside,  now,  I thought he'd have to push my cervix out  of  the
way!   I  pulled up a bit, and then down again: he nested  a  bit
better, and got better still the time after that!  Clearly, a bit
of practice and we'd really make a team!

     I  moved his hands to my butt, and had him stroke  me  there
for  a  change.   He pulled and pushed at  it,  and  got  himself
adjusted even deeper into me.  He was concentrating on me so much
he was drooling!  This is the kind of attention I wanted!

     We  began  to get our rhythm together.  It's  exercise  like
this  that keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it!  He tried  to
follow  me  as  I  pulled up and then down,  and  each  time  the
friction just warmed me all that much more.  I could feel  myself
wrapping  around  him,  the way I do just  before  a  really  big
orgasm, and the tension was marvelous!

     Then,  about two strokes before I expected it, I  came.   It
made  me  start  bucking  up and  down  like  a  thing  possessed
(probably was!), and about halfway through I could feel him begin
to  spurt;  for a while I wondered if he'd ever stop.   Not  just
once,  not  merely  three  times.  Each time  I  could  feel  the
moisture practically slam up into me.  He just kept coming, and I
thought  I'd  drained  him last night  after  all  his  exuberant
pumping then!

     I  fell to my side, he still inside.  He curled up  next  to
me, and we dozed.  Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I
think  that's what woke me.  I shook him gently, and as  he  came
around, I had this big smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on
my  mind.   "Now,  Larry, isn't that better  than  coffee  Sunday
morning?"


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 4th Adventure>>>>>

     Larry  gave me the robe.  It was lightweight and cool,  just
what  was  needed  when the nights never  really  cool  down.   I
noticed that when I pulled it snug it showed off my nipples,  but
I really think Larry liked it because when it gaped, it gave  him
just  that  little  bit of cleavage that men find  so  much  more
exciting.   I liked it, though, because it smelled of Larry,  who
much to my pleasure was turning out to be a regular.

     Since  I  would be away for almost a week, I took  the  robe
just  to remind me of him.  I was running this  convention--well,
part of it--and hotel living is supposed to be a bit more  modest
than  tromping around the house with nothing on.  Not, mind  you,
that I expected to have any real time to socialize, since it  was
going to be a series of 18-hour days.

     Well,  there  WAS  going to be this ONE  dance,  the  second
night.   I at least would have enough time--if I  wasn't  already
exhausted from two days of work AND a day of preparation--to  try
out the floor.  The band was going to be halfway decent, so  this
one respite was coveted just a little.

     Have you ever noticed how when you're content with things on
the home front is when you get some REALLY interesting attention?
I  know  men  complain about it, saying that  just  when  they're
relaxed with one woman is when they really get hit on, and I know
there's something to that, because when they're self-assured  (or
maybe  just  assured  of  pussy?) they're  just  that  much  more
attractive  (there's  this other theory, which  says  that  since
they're  involved elsewhere it's safe to fool around  with  them;
maybe  that's  true, too).  Well, I was pretty  comfortable  with
Larry,  seriously  had  no  plans to  fool  around  (not  out  of
commitment, out of contentment), and I was attracting an  unusual
amount of attention.

     This older guy, not fat and horny like the stereotyped  out-
of-town salesman, but trim, gray, cultivated, and probably  about
50,  didn't  say much but kept his presence known.  He  was  just
frequently  around, and more than once I caught him just  looking
at  me...not  STARING like the psychotics, just  an  appreciative
glance.   None  of my coworkers knew him, and  he  wasn't  ALWAYS
around,  so  I just put it down as nothing unusual.   I  had  his
nametag  checked out ("L. K. Kendricks"), and he was a  rep  from
some  obscure manufactory back in the Ohio Valley,  certainly  no
one I'd know.  And certainly no one I'd go out of my way to meet.

     I did go to the dance.  Some of my coworkers had to drag  me
away  from  reworking  (admittedly,  for  the  THIRD  time)   the
preparations  for  the next day's activities, but I  did  go.   I
thought  I'd  have a couple of drinks and chat it up  with  them.
Some had their husbands, and one or two had found someone at  the
convention.   What ended up is that we got a table near the  rear
(like I said, it took a while to get me out, so we were late) and
before  I  knew it I was abandoned there.  The girls  talked  for
only  a few minutes, then dragging their guys out onto the  floor
they had left me nursing a scotch.  I was a little tired and  the
scotch  only  accentuated it; before long I  was  thinking  about
things long ago and far away.

     The  reverie  was  interrupted  by  this  rich  tenor  "Good
evening."   It was old LK, "Lawrence Knight" it turns out to  be,
another Larry.  Deja vu I was not prepared to deal with  tonight,
but  I  couldn't  just  give  a  cold  brush  off  to  a   kindly
introduction.  I got permission to call him "LK"--he winced  when
he  said  OK, but I couldn't stand the idea of  "Larry  II."   He
wasn't  merely a sales rep; he was in engineering and  there  was
some  new process here he was checking out; he had done his  job,
in fact, and was leaving next noon though our "show" had  another
three  days  to run.  He was efficient  and  professional.   More
importantly,  though,  he was generous, getting me to  talk  and,
soon, even laugh.  I switched from scotch to Calistoga and before
long we, too, were on the dance floor.

     LK was a good dancer but didn't make me feel like the  klutz
I  know I am.  When we were dancing apart he'd flash  this  smile
that was becoming quite charming, and when we were dancing  close
he  kept me smiling with a few bon mots.  I was soon laughing  as
he'd  point  out  someone  on  the  floor  and  give  a  complete
description, based entirely on their appearance, as to where they
lived,  what they were here for (professionally  AND  otherwise),
and  what they were like at home.  It was hilarious:  he'd  start
talking about another person, then spin me around so I could  see
over his shoulder while from memory alone he spun this incredible
web  of  fact and fantasy that fit like a wet  T-shirt.   And  he
moved  so gracefully, I could feel through his jacket he was  fit
without being rough; he was certainly easy going enough.

     When  we  took  a break I got these sly,  "I  told  you  so"
glances from my friends.  What could I say, they had me!  When  I
explained it to LK, he sort of smiled, and said he'd come to  the
dance just to see if he could meet me, and I did feel flattered.

     When we were back on the floor, I told him I had to be  back
reviewing  preparations early the next morning.  It wasn't  late,
but  I  was  really enjoying this and I'd let it GET  late  if  I
didn't extract soon.  LK sort of frowned, but let it go at  that.
He said he could tell I was tense and tired, more relaxed than an
hour  ago,  but still tense and tired.  Well, thanks a  lot,  guy
(but  it was all true)!  He'd say goodnight, then.  By  the  way,
though, would I have a break tomorrow morning and could I come by
his  room  before he left?  1402?  Well, I'd see.  With  a  small
kiss on his cheek I grabbed my purse and left.

     But back in the room the bed (a HUGE king size  number--god,
what  was  the  hotel expecting, a  menage  a  quatorze?)  looked
particularly  lonely.   Sure, Larry would have  been  great,  but
Larry  was not here and Larry was--well, not  permanent.   Maybe,
though, his robe would make me feel better--no, in fact the smell
just  made it worse.  Calistoga or not, two scotches  (were  they
doubles?)  had  gone  to my head and I  was  alone,  lonely,  and
getting  horny  (it had, after all, been three  days!).   I  rang
1402,  then hung up when LK answered; he was there.  And  he  was
leaving tomorrow; this, too, would not be permanent.

     I put on the robe and not much else, put in a diaphragm, and
went  for a massage.  I figured there had to be a great  masseuse
in 1402.  When he answered the door LK was still dressed,  though
out of his jacket.  He'd been sorting through his briefcase,  and
I could see that my arrival was an unexpected brightener for  his
evening.  As I asked if the masseuse was still in I saw his  eyes
glance  down  to  my  chest and it didn't take  long  to  get  an
affirmative answer.

     First,  though,  he  showed  me  around--probably  just   to
convince me there was no one else there, and that there had  been
no  one else.  Not that I cared, for he'd made  his  availability
very clear.  I handed him a bottle of baby oil (all I could find-
-I  really hadn't been expecting a need for the  scented  stuff).
Larry--no, LK--took me to the bed and helped me out of the  robe.
He  didn't grab for my tits right away, a little touch  of  class
there, and had me lie on my stomach.  He sat beside me and slowly
opened  the  bottle as he talked about how my work  reflected  my
self-confidence and how he really disliked mousey women.  Then he
stopped,  rolling up his sleeves as sort of an  afterthought;  it
took me a moment to realize the pause was just him caring for his
clothes.  He began to rub the baby oil over my back while talking
about how good my back looked.  The man was class all the way--he
dressed well, he talked well, he kept after himself, and he  made
me feel really appreciated.  Just what the doctor ordered.

     He  finished  my back (a few tough spots he  worked  out  so
gently I hardly knew they'd ever been there!) and started down my
arms,  stretched out over my head.  I opened my eyes and saw  him
really throwing his body into it.  A little music?  Sure, and  he
found a soft jazz station.  When he came back I lifted my arm  up
and rolled over just enough to pull off his bow tie (NOT a  clip-
on  job!) and undo the studs on his tux shirt.  Then I just  fell
back onto the bed and let him finish my arms.

     I  told  him  my butt was  special--I'm  really  aroused  by
contact  there and I wanted him to take some care.  As  I  helped
him  slip the panties off, he said not to worry.  The man was  at
once  gentle and generous with his attention.  By the  time  he'd
finished  and started down my thighs I was really  squirming.   I
wouldn't  even let him finish my calves, I was really  ready  for
him.

     I  rolled  over  and reached up to  his  shirt,  pulling  it
quickly  off.  I sat up and reached for his  trousers,  startling
him  with  my  speed.   He slid his shoes  off  as  I  undid  the
fasteners  and with the suspenders down they just dropped to  the
floor.    I  laughed  when  I  saw  the  polka-dot  boxers,   but
everybody's got a quirk, somewhere!  When he figured out what was
so  funny he joined in; at least I'd had the smarts not to  laugh
and point!

     He  climbed on the bed and we took each other in  our  arms.
First  a  tentative kiss and then a longer,  deeper,  exploratory
one.  I put my leg over his, and felt the hair on his leg  awaken
every  nerve on the inside of my thigh.  His hands moved from  my
back to my side to my boobs, and then his mouth went from my lips
to  my  throat to my nipples.  I lay back and  felt  this  almost
primal  suction bring me to full alertness.  His lips and  tongue
worked my nipples, and his hands worked my breasts.  My mouth was
open and I was gasping, already.

     Then,  soon, too soon (don't stop!) he was continuing  down.
His tongue explored my navel and that made my legs start  sliding
up  and  down on the bed.  His hand came up between my  legs  and
cupped my mound, gently, then squeezing firmly, and then a finger
started  exploring.  His mouth was kissing my entire abdomen  and
soon his middle finger was sliding up deep inside me.  He brought
his  mouth down and his tongue played my clit for a  while,  then
replaced his finger.  God, such a tongue!

     I had to return the favor.  I pulled him up and then  rolled
him over onto his back.  I slid one hand underneath his waistband
and found what I'd been looking for and then with the other  just
pulled the waistband down.  It was gorgeous--erect, waving in the
air,  all pink and throbbing.  I kissed the tip, then the  shaft.
I  licked the shaft and massaged the tip.  It was getting wet  on
its  own  and  I had my first taste of this  man's  love  juices,
something I always find hard to resist.  I took him into my mouth
and  started sucking and massaging, my lips running up  and  down
his length as I took him all the way back in my throat.  My  head
was bobbing up and down, my breasts were brushing his thighs, one
hand had his balls and the other was rubbing his chest.  It was a
one-man band and he was making great music!

     He  had  me  stop and I couldn't figure  why--I  was  really
getting  going.  Then I understood, as he turned around  and  put
his  head between my legs.  Again, this fantastic  tongue  worked
all  over my mound, inside and out.  I had him  almost  swallowed
and was feeling great.  We must have gone on that way for  twenty
or thirty minutes, and I remember coming at least three times.

     But he stayed with me--I'd never had a guy stay up after  so
much  stimulation.   Is this what you get with  older  men?   His
attention to me told me he was still part of my team, so I  guess
this was just a virtue of experience.  But after three orgasms  I
really  wanted  him  inside and we'd find out just  what  he  was
really  made of.  I let go and turned around--now both of us  had
our feet at the head of the bed.

     I  took  him in the traditional method, as his  weight  fell
right  on  me and he'd probably be able to pump  just  that  much
better.   I  was right, for he slid right in and began  a  rhythm
that had me coming again and again almost immediately.  Soon, his
face  screwed  up and his breathing changed and suddenly  he  was
spurting  these fabulous warm gobs all the way up through me.   I
was writhing and must then have passed out, between the  pleasure
and the scotch.  I've NEVER done that before!

     I  wasn't  out long, because the next thing I  knew  he  was
slowly  pulling out.  Ohhhhhhhhhh.  His smile was right  next  to
mine  and  with a last kiss I just rolled into him  and  went  to
sleep.   I vaguely remember him turning me around on the bed  and
his  pulling  the covers up and over us, and I  clearly  remember
getting  my leg and arm over him, but until he woke me gently  at
6:00  (god, I could have slept till 9:00, and missed  everything!
what a wonderful guy) I don't remember a thing.

     We had a little quickie and then I stumbled off to my  room.
God, I could hardly walk!  First Larry I and now Larry II.  There
has to be something in that name!


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 5th Adventure>>>>>

     Even  though we'd stopped going out a year ago, I was  still
curious  about Norman.  He'd always been intriguing, he'd  always
made  me  laugh and smile, and I remember his being  dynamite  in
bed.  But he'd gotten serious about another girl (god, don't  you
hate to compete with 18-year olds? and I'm not sure she was  even
18)  and  without much ado I'd just made myself scarce.   No  big
scene  a year ago, but I wasn't going to be merely  an  irregular
Thursday-night diversion for him!

     But  then  just  last  week someone  had  mentioned  him  in
passing,  in the single mode.  It wasn't "Norman and Chris,"  but
merely  "Norman."  So I called, and knew as soon as  he  answered
I'd got myself wrapped up again.  I loved just hearing his voice.
He  was delighted, even over the phone he made me smile,  and  we
eagerly set a date for a movie Friday evening.  I would come over
to  his  place,  and I knew there was already  a  good  chance  I
wouldn't leave until Saturday or even Sunday.

     When  I arrived I presented him with a bottle of wine and  a
very  sensual kiss.  I'd dressed in tight jeans and a thin  crepe
blouse,  and  I  could feel his hands  warmly  embrace  me  right
through  the fabric.  We decided to start the wine--so  it  could
breathe for later, of course--before leaving for the theater.   I
stood  right next to him as he maneuvered the cork out,  so  he'd
catch the perfume I'd worn for him; I know I was close enough  to
feel  the  warmth  of his body without  even  touching  him.   We
toasted  our good fortune and then left hand-in-hand; during  the
drive  over  I kept my hand on his leg and he was  most  terribly
distracted.   You  give men just the hint of sex and they  go  to
pieces on you!

     In  the theater I pulled his hand over to my leg as soon  as
the lights dimmed.  I held it down firmly as he massaged my thigh
and then slid up to cup my mound.  He gently rubbed me so that  I
could tell he hadn't forgotten a thing.  My legs were spread wide
apart and I held his wrist in close to me.  Pretty soon my breath
was  getting shorter and shorter and I had to make him stop.   My
sigh of relief was almost audible, for I was about to come  right
there!

     Then  it was my turn.  I reached down between his  legs  and
grabbed  his balls.  I could slide my hand up his shaft and  back
down again, and even through the heavy fabric of his jeans  could
feel him thick and throbbing.  I kept that up for a half hour  or
so,  and had to quit when my arm was so tired from the  contorted
position  that my only other choice would have been to drop  down
on  my knees between his legs; it was a hard (!) choice, but  the
theater was too crowded to do something obvious like that.

     So I squeezed his thigh, let go, and sat back in the  chair,
resting  while trying to catch up on the plot I'd been  ignoring.
He  put  his arm around my shoulder just as the  movie  began  to
shift  to  the romantic part of the  adventure.   Inspiration  to
Norman!   He  let  his hand drop down my front  and  squeezed  my
breast.   I had only a slender, thin bra on beneath the crepe  so
that  I could feel every one of his fingers caress me, and  in  a
very  few moments my nipples were quite erect.  He  reached  over
and  undid a button on my blouse and slipped his hand inside.   I
was so hot I was surprised there wasn't steam coming out, and the
warmth  of  his  hand just reflected right back  onto  my  chest.
Audacious  as  ever, Norman then proceeded not merely to  cup  my
breast,  but there in the theater to slide his hand  beneath  the
bra  cup and directly stimulate my nipple.  I was about  to  come
right there, once again!  The sexual tension was so high I had to
grab the armrests to keep from jumping him there in the seat!

     Thankfully,  the movie soon ended and we emerged  into  some
surprisingly  cold  night air.  Well, the whole  world  was  cold
compared  to  us! We went to get a bite to eat, where  he  and  I
played  a  marvelous  game of footsie.  The wine  didn't  at  all
measure  up, though, so we rushed home to where we had  something
worth our attention(!).

     Norman  lit  a  fire  while I freshened up  (and  put  in  a
diaphragm!).   When  I  returned to the living room  he  had  two
glasses,  the wine and some pillows all arranged in front of  the
fireplace.   I bent over and kissed him as he handed me a  glass,
and rubbed his chest.  He grabbed my calf in reply while I sipped
the  wine.  What a smooth, sensual bouquet! A good  beginning  to
this part of the evening, for sure!

     Then we stretched out before the fire and kissed.  Gently at
first,  our  lips just sort of nibbling on each other.   Then  we
drew  each other closer and really explored mouths.  He  put  his
glass down and began again on my blouse's buttons, and I likewise
started  in on his shirt.  I soon was rubbing my hands  all  over
his hairy chest, kissing his neck and tonguing his ears, and  he
was  fumbling with the front closure of my bra.  Once he  had  it
open  I rolled him onto his back, pushed his hands away  from  my
tits and rubbed my chest directly over his.  I was so horny  now!
With  his arms pinned to the floor I wrapped my legs  around  his
waist and squeezed there, then ground my pelvis against his.   He
closed his eyes and just took it like a man!

     When  I let his hands go they went for my butt and began  to
massage it firmly, exploring all of it from my waist to the  tops
of my thighs, and as he held me down I could feel him growing and
throbbing beneath his zipper.  I lifted up and began to pull  his
zipper down, soon exposing his shorts and then opening his  pants
all the way so I could reach inside.  What a find!

     He was moist, and warm, and full of fun there!  I soon moved
my  mouth's attentions there and took him fully between my  lips.
He  was  tasty, too.  I started sucking, kissing,  and  squeezing
him, all the while my hand cupping and massaging his balls.  In a
very short while his hips were moving up and down in rhythm  with
my  mouth  and I knew he wouldn't be long in  coming.   When  the
spurts  came I was swallowing it all and kept sucking even  after
he had collapsed.

     After  a  brief recovery, he pulled me up to  face  him.   I
first  maneuvered his pants the rest of the way off, and then  he
began  to work on my belt.  He had this great smile on  his  face
that made me let him do to me whatever he wanted!  Soon, my jeans
joined  his in a pile and his face was down between my legs,  his
hands  on my breasts.  His tongue explored all the  crevices  and
folds of my labia and soon I was rubbing my mound up and down his
face, getting him thoroughly wet.  In a last spasm I collapsed in
a  series  of  yells  and was twitching on  the  floor,  like  an
epileptic, until I just fell asleep.

     I think he did too, because the next thing I remember is his
gently shaking me, murmuring with half-closed eyes.  Whatever  he
said, it had something to do with going to bed and I was all  too
ready.  Somehow, with unsteady legs, I managed to stand up and we
both sort of wobbled down the hallway, leaning on each other.  We
didn't  get out of bed for thirty-six hours, though we must  have
slept  no more than five.  For that night and the next  full  day
the  only sunlight we saw was what came in through  the  curtains
blowing at the open windows.  Well, Norman did get up to get  the
champagne and bagels we had for breakfast, and I did have to  pay
attention  to the contraceptive supply.  We would doze and  awake
only  to  make  love.  Then we'd decide we  were  too  musky  (an
oxymoron?) and go take a shower, where I'd climb up on him in the
hot  stream and we'd screw away, my legs around his waist and  my
arms around his neck as as I pumped away and he swayed in the hot
water.   Then we'd towel each other off and climb back  into  bed
where he'd eat me again.  I wholly lost track of how many times I
came,  well  over  a  hundred.   I  was  at  once  exhausted  and
exhilarated.  After I went home, Sunday was shot, of course,  but
I  was exhausted for good causes:  I think I'm now bowlegged  for
life, and I think Norman has sworn off inexperienced girls!


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 6th Adventure>>>>>

     Larry  found out about Norman.  Well, yes, I told  him,  but
only  after he really got insistent about why I didn't answer  my
phone all that weekend (come to think of it, Norman had unplugged
his phone, too...).  He was real upset, not that I'd promised him
fidelity  but  certainly  I  could  understand  where  his   hurt
expectations had come from.  So I invited him over for dinner and
a talk, and perhaps a pityfuck.

     I selected a satin slipdress--you know, tailored,  spaghetti
straps, trim fitting, low cut but not really dipping too far into
the cleavage.  I picked up some fresh fish and vegies and put  on
a  really nice table and candlelight, but he  wasn't  interested.
Poor  guy was really hurting, I could see it in his face.   After
all we had together, etc., etc., he kept saying, and I could tell
he just never believed that the whole situation was merely a day-
to-day  thing.   Funny how guys never complain about  who  you've
seen before, but they really get hurt when you see someone later!
When I explained that I hadn't really given him up, just  allowed
someone  else  in, he seemed to brighten a bit and  his  appetite
began to come back.

     So  I  poured us a little more wine and let him  talk.   His
work had been going better, and he'd wanted to share it with  me,
and  here  I'd  gone off for a weekend with  a  year-old  reject.
Again,  I  patiently  explained how there'd  been  no  long  term
promises,  just mutual enjoyment.  We finished desert,  I  poured
some brandy, and we retired to the living room sofa.  He was much
more  relaxed,  and actually began to ask after  me  (other  than
regarding   Norman,   of  course).   I   sketched   out   current
projects...nothing he didn't already know about, but they  seemed
to amuse him.  But conversation about him was really short:   How
was work?  Ok.  What about his spare time?  Nothing special.  Was
he  going out with anyone else?  No, of course not.  Did he  have
any  trips  planned?   No, now that I  wouldn't  go  along,  he'd
stopped  fantasizing about them.  Well, where had he wanted us  to
go?   Now  he brightened and began to recite a series  of  rather
detailed  itineraries he'd thought through.  A bit TOO  detailed,
in  that  EVERYthing was planned, but surely they were  all  very
romantic ideas for weekends or longer.  When I said I'd go  along
as things permitted he began to get excited again.

     He brought out some pictures he'd clipped, and I moved  over
next  to him to see them.  He did have a great  imagination,  and
his  enthusiasm was now really showing.  When I reached  over  to
point out something in his books, I didn't mind at all letting my
hand  linger in his lap.  He didn't grab for me right  away,  but
did shift over to be right next to me.

     I  poured a little more brandy and the evening drew on.   We
began to plan a trip, selecting a long weekend and picking  daily
destinations.  Somewhere along here I kissed his cheek and he put
his  arm  around  me.  I could feel him checking  for  the  (non-
existent) bra strap and panty line.  Just as we finished I got up
to  get  more  brandy, and when I came back I sat  with  my  back
against  the far armrest of the couch and beckoned to Larry.   He
scooted  over  and  put his arm across my  waist.   I  sipped  my
brandy,  gave  him his, and asked him if he wanted  to  stay  the
night.   I  swear  he almost dropped his  snifter,  and  then  he
smiled; he leaned over and kissed me, and I put an arm around his
shoulders.

     When he sat up I put my snifter aside and took his,  holding
one  hand  in  his lap while I reached over to  put  his  snifter
aside.   I had to really stretch my arm and chest to  reach,  and
I'm  sure  he stared closely at the swelling beneath  the  slip's
bodice.  When I turned back I reached up to pull him down and  he
pivoted his legs onto the sofa as he lounged beside me.

     He still seemed so unsure, though.  I stroked his head,  and
kissed  his lips, but he was hesitant.  I took his hand  from  my
waist  and moved it up to my breast, where I held it tight.   His
hand, massive as always, was as warm and gentle as before.  As he
kissed  my  neck I pulled my head back and just enjoyed  all  the
sensations.   He soon had his hand inside the dress and  then  he
slipped  the straps off my shoulders.  He was getting  the  idea!
Time to find a little bare skin on this guy, too!

     I  rolled  sideways, so he could get onto the  sofa  better,
then  began  working on his buttons, literal and  figurative.   I
would undo a few then reach down between his legs for a good grab
as  I kissed him deeply.  Soon, his shirt was off and  his  pants
were open.  It wasn't long before his hand was off my breast  and
was  sliding up my leg under the dress.  I lifted my hips and  he
just  pulled  it off over my head as I sat up.  We then  went  to
work on the rest of his clothes and when they were off I took him
to the bedroom.

     The  sheets  were  cold but we had them  warm  soon  enough.
There  was a lot of exploring we did, sliding our legs over  each
other, tongues in ears, nibbles on necks, fingers on genitals.  I
took him on my side, and I could see him sigh as he slid into me.
Right away there wasn't the usual vigorous pumping, just sort  of
a slow and gentle massage of all my innards.  I ran my hands over
his chest, behind me to grab his balls, back up through his hair,
and  all the time there was this gentle warmth suffusing  through
me.  I was tightening down but not yet near explosion.

     Then  he rolled me over onto my back and began to pump  more
quickly.  He put his legs outside mine and the pressures changed.
Next, he started licking and sucking my chest again, and I  began
to really pump back.  When he came it wasn't for long but it  was
powerful,  almost like a firehose deep inside.  I shivered,  then
shuddered, and then thrashed about in a wild, slow-coming  orgasm
that left me breathless.

     With  the  exhaustion that brought, and the brandy,  I  soon
fell  asleep.  Larry was there, gently again in the morning,  and
we repeated the performance until the sun was at zenith.  He left
a little more confident of himself and I lingered in bed, assured
the attentions of two wonderful men.  Can life be sweeter?


                  <<<<<Orphan Annie's 7th Adventure>>>>>

     While  Euclid  found  that a triangle was one  of  the  most
stable geometric structures, it certainly isn't in human affairs.
Well, I knew that going into one, but the pleasures of the  flesh
are  too  great for a mere mortal such as myself.  I knew  that I
couldn't keep both Larry and Norman.

     They are both great, and in different ways.  Norman is pure,
sizzling,  unadulterated  breathtaking  sex;  I  can't  take  him
anywhere  except my bedroom, but why would I want to?   We  don't
talk much, but we communicate nonetheless, orally and  otherwise.
Larry is unsure of himself, and as a rough tradesman not  someone
my  father would immediately like (well, they met at  a  barbecue
one  weekend, and it took a while for even some  conversation  to
take  place, but at least he wasn't thrown out), but he's  gentle
and  generous and we have great verbal communication.   Larry  is
really  possessive, a problem even in a monogamous  relationship,
and Norman doesn't care so long as he doesn't get AIDS.

     When  I  raped  Larry in the bathtub  the  other  afternoon,
though, and he came back for more as soon as he was toweled  off,
I  had  a sense that things were going to change.  He  had  never
shown that much self-confidence, and all of a sudden he was  less
a  toy and more a real man to deal with.  Uh-oh...I wasn't  going
to be able to hold on to all of this.

     I guess Norman felt it, too, because the next night, after a
slow  start  he got really frenzied, pumping away  in  me  almost
frantically  for  an hour before we both collapsed in a  pile  of
musky  sheets and slippery bodies.  God, he was like  candy...you
just can't give up that kind of attention!

     Then,  the  next weekend, Larry took me out for  dinner  and
dancing.  He was well dressed, he found a fabulous restaurant, we
danced and swirled around the dance floor until the place closed,
and  then we went home and literally fucked until the  sun  rose.
He ate me until I was thrashing all over the bed, then he'd slide
right  in  and excite me some more.  After he'd come, I  used  my
lips  to get him excited again and we went at it all over. I  had
hickeys  on my neck, my breasts, my thighs and my butt,  and  the
windows  were well steamed in the morning.  I had to take  a  nap
for  the better part of Saturday just to recover.  I thought  I'd
sent Larry home, but when I awoke about 4:00 he was peeking  into
the bedroom with some fresh coffee, and almost before I  finished
that  we  were  at it again.  You've got  to  understand  what  a
gorgeous  man  Larry is, and just how the  contrast  between  his
coarse exterior and his caring behavior is so exciting:  I really
can't keep my hands off him.  He even looks better in the robe he
gave  me  than I do!  And I just love sliding my hand  up  inside
that  robe  because I find such a wonderful cock  to  play  with!
Then he took me out to dinner again and all he did was play  with
his  food  while his hand was playing between my legs.   He  kept
calling me "the most exciting person he'd met," and I had to  lie
about Norman to return the compliment.  Which of these guys do  I
keep around?

     I HAD to get Larry out by Sunday morning, because Norman was
due  Sunday  afternoon.  We went out for a hillside  picnic,  and
after  the wine was gone the local eagles had a terrific view  of
human  anatomy  until the sun went down.  He didn't  say  anything
about  the hickeys, but he must have seen them!  Then we sort  of
curled  up  in  the blanket and dozed on the  hillside  until  we
awoke,  shivering, about midnight.  I gave him a hand job on  the
drive back to my place, but insisted he leave so I could rest for
Monday's  work.  I was reaching a point where I couldn't keep  up
the pace of keeping two guys up.

--