The Girl Who Bummed a Smoke
I look at my hands in the kitchen sink. Yes those are my
hands scrubbing that pot, not the hands of my wife or a
maid, but the hands of a forty year old businessman. The
same hands that did the shopping earlier, the same hands
that cooked the meal, that loaded the dishwasher, and
when the washing up is done, the same hands that will
scrub the toilet in the master bathroom. I breathe in
and sigh. I fight the impulse to rub my forehead or
pinch the bridge of my nose for comfort. I can't because
my hands are lost in the warm suds getting wrinkled. I
breathe in deeply and sigh again. My life isn't supposed
to be this way... right?
I use to gloat at being able to leave the office at 4:30
every day. I would smirk at my overworked friends, the A
types whose lives revolved around their desk. Working
late is for losers, get a life! Now I realize that my
holier than thou attitude is responsible for my current
life predicament - a salaried job that is going nowhere,
evenings full of household chores, and a male ego on par
with Consuela the housekeeper.
I am proud of my wife, don't get me wrong. The past few
years she got promotions heaped upon promotions. She
rose in the office ranks through customer service, to
middle management, then from management to senior
management and now on to executive. Her income dwarfs
mine and I benefit from it. For example, last week days
of deliberation, of shopping around for deals and
stressing over the cost of a new set of tires for my
car, were wiped clean by my wife's debit card. She just
laid down the plastic and bought them for me just like
that.
Sipping coffee in the service department, the sound of
the pneumatic power wrench in the background, I stared
at her with love and devotion as we waited for them to
put them on. Then her cell phone rang and she immersed
herself in her work again. I turned to look at them work
on my car, and at that moment, a feeling of jealousy
crept into my mind. Those new tires were hers after all.
Now it is quarter to eight, still another forty-five
minutes until my wife gets back from work. Enough time
to grab a smoke, brush my teeth and finish up the
cleaning. I don't smoke, at least that is what I tell
everyone, but lately it has became my little pleasure,
my secret break from the doldrums of my evening chores.
To think just a few years before I would have been at
the sports bar with my buddies. Now with everyone
married, having kids, and planning for the future, it is
just me out back of our condo complex with the flower
pots, puffing away. I stamp my feet in the winter cold,
my mind lost in thought as I stare in the lamplight at
the frost that has wilted the hydrangeas.
"Hey can I bum a smoke?" I look up and see my young
neighbor Giselle standing on the walkway.
"No. Young ladies shouldn't smoke." I say. "It is
unattractive."
"You are an old married man, you shouldn't be attracted
to me anyway." She quips.
I look at her standing by the gate. A puffy white jacket
keeps her petite frame warm, her skinny legs clad in
tight jeans. She is about two years shy of being a real
looker. There is no doubt about it she will be hot just
like her mom. Even now her eyes are bordering on
phenomenal.
"OK, but don't tell your mom." I hold out the pack to
her and she takes three. I start to complain then
realize what is the point. I never listened to the
housekeeper when I was a kid, why should she.
"So another boring night out on the stoop huh?" She
comments putting one smoke in her mouth and pocketing
the other two in her down jacket.
"Yup." I inhale deeply, hand her my lighter, and look
away.
Giselle lights up. I turn back to study her. Her profile
almost angelic if it wasn't for the cigarette hanging
from her lips. She takes a puff and looks up at the sky
then she says something that causes me to stick a finger
in each ear and twist rapidly to clear them. There is no
way Giselle just said what she said, what I heard her
say couldn't be.
It was a filthy limerick whose topic was a massive rock
hard cock, a gooey facial and a mouth full of cum.
"There once was a man named Dan. Whose massive cock he
held tight in his hand. Then one day his neighbor, asked
for a favour. He pulled it out, she let out a shout,
thick spunk dripped from her pretty mouth in strands."
She takes a drag of her smoke and looks up at the stars.
"Excuse me?" I croak.
"You heard right the first time Dan." Giselle tilts her
head and smiles directly at me with her Egyptian eyes.
"Everyone knows that old married dudes are dying to slip
into a nice young pussy."
I stare at her like an ape. "Says who? And I am not
old." Is all I can think to say.
"My mom says. And she knows a lot about men." Giselle
replies not backing down.
"First it is not appropriate for you to talk to me like
that; second I don't think of you in that way; third
your mother has been single for years." I say
indignantly as my mind works to will down the stirring
that her dirty poem has caused between my legs.
"Well you may be right, but she use to know a lot about
men, now all she know is rubber and plastic." Giselle
says with derision.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"My mom has more sex toys than you can shake a stick at.
Huge plastic cocks, rubber dicks with balls on them, a
collection of anal beads in all shape and sizes enough
to make a Mardi Gras necklace. Oh, did I mention
vibrators? How about jelly cocks with handles on them or
the inflatable butt plugs? Don't want to forget about
those."
I look at her mouth as she speaks, cigarette smoke
exhaling from her nostrils. Just then my cell phone
rings snapping me out of my reverie. It is my wife.
"Hi honey, 10:30?! Damn. We were going to watch the O.C.
together. Ok then bye bye." My wife tells me for the
umpteenth time she will be home late from work.
As soon as I hang up my cell Giselle mimics my
conversation with my wive and then giggles. I stare at
her incredulously. "That is pretty rude of you," I tell
her.
She looks at me for a few moments then says "Look I am
sorry, I am just teasing you that is all. Sounds like
you are going to have some extra time on your hands
tonight." She stamps out her smoke and smiles.
"So what were you saying?" I ask wanting to hear this
young woman recount her mom's sex toy inventory again.
"I tell you what. Instead of me describing it to you,
why don't I show you? My mom is away in Las Vegas until
Monday. I have a shitload of cleaning to do. I see you
through your kitchen window always cleaning, so I know
you are good at it. If you clean our place I will show
you mom's dildo collection. You can see it all for
yourself."
Chapter 2: Dan tidies up Giselle's place
Ten minutes later I am knocking on Giselle's door with a
bucket full of cleaning supplies in one hand and a
swifter in the other. She lets me in and we survey their
small apartment. It is a mess. I shake my head. Looking
at her cute face and long curls, I suppose cleaning is a
small price to pay in order to watch this young beauty
handle some rubber cocks.
"I gotta get ready to go out." She says quickly.
"Hey I thought..." I begin to protest.
"Don't worry when I get back later tonight I will show
you her entire collection. That's a promise." She heads
to her bedroom to change.
I start to tidy up. My plan is to tidy, then dust, then
sweep, then work on the kitchen. Giselle returns to the
living room wearing a tight fitting short dress. She
sits down in the corner at a small table with a mirror
and starts applying makeup, then eyeliner. I catch
glimpses of her as I clear away coffee cups and stacks
of magazines. She transforms from a teenager to a sexy
young woman in a matter of minutes. When she plugs in
her curling iron, I tell her she doesn't have to work so
hard on her looks.
But she disagrees, "My boyfriend has a problem. It takes
him forever to come. I can suck on his cock for hours
and nothing happens. I thought it was because of me. But
then last weekend when I was sucking off this other
guy," Giselle catches my eyes in the mirror, realizing
that she is saying too much. "What I mean is if I make
myself look really hot it might make him cum faster,
that way we can start watching movies sooner. He has HD
TV."
"I see," I say. If only my childhood sweetheart had been
so considerate. I start wiping the coffee table catching
glimpses of her curling her long dark hair with the
iron. I see her flex her calves as she wraps her feet
behind the chair legs and scoots forward. Damn her legs
are sweet.
"Don't worry about the laundry. I will look after it
myself, but the fridge, if you could wipe that down it
would be much appreciated." She says to me matter-of-
factly, like a woman addressing her maid, then starts
applying just a hint of eye shadow. "I won't forget your
reward, when I get back, you can see all of mom's cocks
even the silicone 'Holy Hammer', I forgot about that
one."
Rag in hand I head for the kitchen, sighing. I won't be
able to see any of the family dildo collection because
there was no way Giselle was going to be back before
10:30 tonight. I squirt soap on the dishes in the sink
and turn on the tap.
Giselle sticks her head in the kitchen. I gawk at her.
She looks gorgeous, thick silky curls cascade from her
head, her makeup, her bone structure, she looks like one
of Tyra Bank's top models. "I will be back in a few
hours Dan, if you can't wait make sure you lock up
before you go." She says happily.
I wonder which is more depressing, the fact that I am
cleaning her mess based on an empty promise or the fact
that I am a 40 year old man who has time to watch
America's Next Top Model twice a week.
Chapter 3: Sarah Jones meets Giselle in the Laundry Room
I have a degree in Criminology from a top university. I
was on a career path. At one point I actually had a
staff of four that I managed. I left it all for my
husband, now five years later out of a job and divorced,
the only thing I manage is my household chores. What use
to take me a few hours a week to do, now fills up my
day. Here it is almost 8 pm and I am down here folding
laundry. I am not complaining. Things could be worse. I
say my personal mantra again for the third time tonight.
"I could be a child labourer in China."
These were the thoughts that were running through my
mind as I neatly folded my whites. Thoughts that were
interrupted by the clicking sound of high heels
approaching from down the hall. That and the sound of
something heavy being dragged.
Low and behold who should walk in but my upstairs
neighbor's kid Giselle. In all my years of doing laundry
I had never seen her down here, nor had I ever seen her
looking so good. On a normal day she is cute, but this
evening she is downright hot.
"Hey gorgeous what brings you down here?" I ask
surprised.
Then she drags a huge duffel bag into the room behind
her. "Laundry, lots and lots of laundry."
"Wow you are not kidding." I look momentarily at her
overstuffed bag of dirty laundry before my eyes linger
on something much more impressive, the beautiful body of
my teenage neighbor. "Well at least I will have some
company." I say happily.
"Think again." She says. "I have got to go out. I was
wondering if you could do these for me?"
Hot nymph or not, there is no way I am going to do this
kid's laundry. "Sorry dear, I really think you should do
it yourself. It'll be good training for the real world."
I smile at her. The nerve of that young woman, in my day
it would have been the other way around, 'hi Miss Jones,
may I help you?' not 'Miss Jones do this for me.' Yeesh.
"I don't think so." Giselle says rather rudely. I look
at her for a few seconds then turn my back and continue
with my folding.
"I see the way you look at me Ms. Jones. I would have to
be blind as a bat not to. Now if you do this big bag of
laundry for me'" I hear her give it a solid kick, thump,
"I will let you look at me for as long and as hard as
you like. No questions asked." She says to me, as if she
is instructing a maid.
I turn to look at her. "How dare you!" I say
exasperated. Giselle tilts her head and gives me a long
wide eyed stare, feigning innocence. She then turns her
back to me, stick her bum out then slowly lifts up her
skirt revealing her tight young ass. "Look," she says
"no underwear 'cause it is all dirty, and if I lean
forward," she leans forward and rest her elbows on a
washer top, stick her ass out further and widens her
stance, "if I lean forward like this, what do you see?"
I look at her buns and gulp. What I see is a perfect
pink slit, sparse hair, crowned by the perfect puckered
nub of her brownish asshole. Then she pulls down her
skirt and turns around to face me. "Now imagine looking
at me in the privacy of your own home. Uh huh, looking
at all of me, as close up as you like: my pussy, my ass,
my tits," she points one foot outward and bends her
knee, "and my smoking hot legs. I can be your doll, a
living doll for you to look at." She smiles and kicks
her laundry bag again, "Make sure you use fabric
softener, I like the smell."
I take hold of the hefty bag and drag it toward the
washer. Giselle walks out the door then turns back. "By
the way I would appreciate it if you don't talk to me
like I am child. I am twenty years old, not some kid,
got it. Thank you Miss Jones."
I hear her heels click down the hall and the sound of
her car keys scraping the wall beside her. Opening the
front load washer I kneel to the ground in shock. Not
for having finally discovered the condo complex's
vandal, but due to a more personal effect. Everything
Giselle had said about me was true. Not only that, she
had expertly manipulated me by detecting my secret
desire.
She shouts from down the hall, "Once my laundry is done
you can take up it to our place. Dan from #106 is there
working on some things, so go right on in and drop it
off. Mom's in Vegas 'til Monday, so I promise this
weekend I will come through on my end of the deal. We
can play doctor." Then the door opens and slams shut.
I start by separating her whites and darks. My panties
are soaked clear through. Just thinking about her lying
face down, tummy flat on a table while she stands before
me, her long shapely legs and her smooth buns.
My mind wanders as I stuff her dirty clothes into the
washer. Her offer is enough compensation for doing her
laundry.
Chapter 3: Back at Giselle's Dan finds the fake cocks
After the dishes, I worked on cleaning their fridge, it
needed a real wipe down. Now I still have an hour to
kill before my wife gets back. Using some twisted
houseboy logic I figure that the likelihood of Giselle
coming through on her promise correlates directly to how
well I tidy their place. This place is going to be so
tidy that Giselle's mother is going to praise her
daughter to high heaven. So clean perhaps she will
decide to go to Las Vegas more often.
"Yes that is the ultimate end game isn't," I smirk half
jokingly to myself as I pull their vacuum out from the
cramped kitchen closet.
The more I vacuum the harder my cock becomes. Giselle's
mom Denise was pretty damn hot as well. Forty years old,
just like me, she is the definition of yummy mummy.
Curvy with huge knockers, gorgeous brown hair you just
want to bunch in your hands, and face of a movie star,
no, more like a sexy female news anchor. My God I would
love to fuck her senseless. I had these thoughts a
hundred times before, and being married. had only acted
on them with my right hand and a closed door. Now to be
here in her apartment after a dirty interchange with her
daughter, her collection of sex toys somewhere just
yards away, a wave of arousal hit my chest and resonated
from my ball to the head of my cock.
The more I vacuum the angrier with Giselle I become.
There is no way she will come through on her promise.
Here I am cleaning their place, while she is giving head
to her idiot boyfriend. My wife is going to be home
before Giselle gets back. By tomorrow that little tart
will have forgotten all about showing me her mom's dildo
collection. So on and so forth I grumble to myself, the
whole while my erection rubs against my pant leg, as I
vacuum around their apartment.
It isn't long before I am in her mother's bedroom. Where
else would a grown woman keep her rubber cock collection
but in a box under her bed. What I hadn't counted on was
an entire side of a floor to ceiling armoire dedicated
to dildos, jelly cocks, and vibes. Holy Smokes! I gawked
at the assortment of phalli before me.
Man oh man! Imagining Giselle's mom Denise, playing with
herself with all these cocks iss stimulating enough but
to think of the mother and daughter being so free and
open about them! Perhaps mother even showing her
daughter how to use them? It is with these dirty
thoughts swirling around my head that I reach up to take
hold of an enormous black cock with a hand grip handle
at its base. Imagine that...a hand grip handle for
Chrissakes! I stare wide eyed in wonder at it then
notice a smudge on its surface about half way down its
length.
After returning from the kitchen with a shammy and a
mild bleach solution, only momentarily wondering about
the smudge origin, I take the huge black cock off the
rack and sit down on the foot of Denise's bed. All these
cocks will gleam by the time I am through with them, my
houseboy mentality holding true, I begin to clean and
polish it. As I clean the cock I thought of Denise
stretching herself full with it. Imagining her mewling
with pleasure as Giselle hammered the sucker home. I
would clean their place for a month just to see that.
Immersed in these thoughts of glory I don't notice the
woman's legs standing before me. A large stack of folded
laundry in her arms obstructs her face. Even so I don't
have enough time to drop the dildo before the face
reveals itself. It is Sarah Jones from #208 and she is
looking at me holding a large rubber cock skyward, arm
flexed, hand gripping its handle.
"I can explain." I stammer.
Chapter 4: Sarah gets skewered by a large rubber cock
"Look at all these cocks!" I exclaim as I stand beside
Dan looking at the open armoire. I had accepted my
handsome neighbor's explanation at face value. After
all, I had done Giselle's laundry in the hope of
fulfilling my deepest desire, so who could blame him?
My hand reaches out to touch them. There is about fifty
stacked lengthwise side by side, one on top of the
other, in small cubby holes. My fingers trace over them
like a blind woman reading braille. I feel their
texture, some have life-like ridges and shape, others
are smooth as glass. Dan sits on the bed a massive
rubber cock rests beside him. He hasn't said a word for
several minutes, but his heavy breathing is enough
communication, I know exactly what he is thinking. Just
as I have been guilty at gawking at Giselle, this brown
eyed man has been guilty at gawking at me. It is
innocent enough. Though there has been times while
bending down to open my mail box in the lobby I sensed
his eyes burning a hole through my ass.
My hand rests on a large silicone jelly cock that has a
fat nub perfectly positioned at its base to grind into a
clit while its length is buried deep in the recipients
vagina. My, my, my, I think to myself. I can't remember
the last time I had something as big as that inside me.
I can't because I have never had. I take it off the rack
and hold it in my hand. It texture is lifelike, but cool
to the touch. It is about twelve inches long, fatter
than a man's cock, but its head is perfectly lifelike, a
flared round helmet complete with ridges and small pee
hole.
Holding it at its base, fingers around its clit rubbing
nub, I turn to face Dan. "Can you keep a secret?" I ask.
He gulps and nods his head, "but I am married," he
whispers back. I look more intently at this attractive
married man, six feet tall with large hands and dirty
blond hair, good looking yet from his demeanour so
obviously pussy whipped. If I am going to get what I
want, I need to chose my words carefully.
"Technically it isn't cheating if you use this on me." I
tell him, holding up the 'Holy Hammer.' "Your skin won't
even touch mine."
That was all it took. A few moments later I am lying on
my back on Denise's bed, knees bent and spread outwards.
My pants are bunched around my ankles keeping my feet
together in a comfortable yoga pose, the handsome face
of my neighbor rests lightly on my belly as he traces
the tip of the massive dildo up and down my slit. To
think only a half hour before I was pulling clothes out
of the dryer. The Lord works in mysterious ways.
"This looks so incredibly hot." Dan says, the first
words I had heard from his since I handed him the dildo.
He presses the cock head into my folds and watches my
pink lips spread around it. He pushes it against my
opening then pulls it away. My honey coat its tip. He
pushes in a little more and pulls away, this time a
clear strand of my moisture connects the divot of its
pee hole to the entrance of my cunt. No doubt about it
my juices are flowing like a tap. Dan is breathing
heavily, and so am I.
"Push it in, push it very very slowly." My voice is
clear and loud. When I become aroused I tend to be loud.
He complies and we both watch the huge fat fake cock
slowly enter me. It is spreading me wide, it is filling
up a space that is dying to be filled, turning my pussy
into a cunt. It feels incredible. I look at Dan's face
as he pushes it into me ever so slowly, centimetre by
centimetre. He looks up at me, his brown eyes wide and
gorgeous. "Oh my God I feel so full."
My vaginal walls are spread wide and the high quality of
the silicone cock makes its entrance easy and pain free.
"More...I think I can take it all." I instruct him. A
few minutes later I feel the nub pushing into my clit.
Its stiffness meets it as equal, like two hard clits
rubbing against each other. The design possibilities of
dildos, pure genius. "Ok now pull it out slowly,
slowly."
Dan complies and ever so slowly pulls it out, his mouth
opens wide in an expression of wonder. It is truly an
incredible sight for both of us. To see twelve inches of
fat rubber cock disappear into me and then reappear is
pure magic. My plan is to have him fuck me very slowly,
then a little faster, pumping it in and out, increasing
the rhythm over time until I explode in orgasm. I
promised him our skin would not touch. Even so I know
now that I will be grabbing hold of his thick head of
hair when I come. It is inevitable.
It is with the feeling of pleasure of my slowly building
orgasm and the face of my hunky neighbor witnessing it
close up, that I lie back and focus on the moment. Both
of us are so engrossed in the experience, that we don't
hear the steps approaching from outside the bedroom.
Looking up again at Dan and the exposed length of the
fat silicone dildo that is skewering me, it takes me a
moment to process what I see just behind it. Not the
legs of the manipulative nymph Giselle, but those of her
mother Denise. I lie back down and close my eyes shut
tightly in embarrassment. My face constricts in sheer
mortification.
"I thought you were in Las Vegas." I hear Dan say
meekly.
"Las Vegas? I haven't been there in years. I am just
getting home from work." She says sounding very
nonplussed. "Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"
This isn't happening, this isn't happening. Adrenaline
courses through my veins and a feeling of butterflies as
strong as the migration of the Monarchs hits my stomach.
Just then the front door opens and the chirpy voice of
Giselle pipes in from down the hall, "Hi Dan I am back."
"Just as I suspected, my daughter has something to do
with this?" Denise says sounding almost amused.
My eyes still shut. I feel the fake cock pull away from
me quickly and completely. It makes a slight suction
release sound. I hear the sound of Giselle's high heels
as she enters the room. Then the stern voice of her
mother, "no one leaves here until I get to the bottom of
this."
Keys: M+/F exh oral anal gb
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