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From Benjamin Dornier’s Journal
Thursday, July 15, 1992
I was having the most incredible dream. Somebody, I wasn’t sure who at first, was giving me one heck of a blow job. She was licking my penis as avidly as if it was a stick of peppermint and peppermint was her favorite thing in the entire world and had me hard as a rock. I laid there, savoring the wonderful sensations I was feeling as my dream-lover’s soft tongue slid from the base of my erection, to the tip, swirled around, then went back down to the base. An unending stream of intense feelings of delight poured through me and I could hear myself groaning, just as if I was awake. The magical tantalizing tongue trailed back up to the arrow-shaped head of my cock and teased it, even poking into the little opening there, licking off the pre-cum that was seeping from me. Whoever was doing this to me sure knew what she was doing.
I heard myself groaning again when soft, warm hands cupped my balls and began teasing them. That tantalizing tongue traveled down toward the base of my erection, then soft lips were kissing and toying with my balls. I felt my hips jolt and heard an even louder groan that had to come from me. I’d never, ever, experienced a dream like this one before. Then it hit me that, in fact, I wasn’t dreaming at all. I opened my eyes and saw that the person causing me such exquisite feelings wasn’t a dream person at all. It was Hillary Watson, my gorgeous young lover. She was kneeling next to my hips, bending over me, and doing all those wonderful things to me.
I reached down and trailed my fingers down over her lovely curved back. She twisted around a little so she could look at me and I could see the twinkle in her eyes. Her hand still cupped my balls and her tongue was still lovingly caressing my erect penis. I let my fingers trail down over one of her firm, well-formed buttocks and on down the back of her thigh. In doing so, my fingers teased the puffy, silken lips of her vagina, wet and slippery with the juices of her arousal. My caress evoked a soft moan from her, which was transferred to me through her tongue.
She lifted her head and, bright-eyed, smiled at me. “Awesome, you’re awake!” “Ah…you were making it pretty darn impossible for me to sleep,” I groaned. She wasn’t licking me right then, but her fingers were toying with me and that felt pretty darn good, too.
“Since you’re finally awake…” She shifted position, so she was kneeling across my legs, then she lifted up, shuffled forward, and began lowering herself. As she sank down on me, I could see her face changed. It’s hard to exactly describe the look that formed as my erection into her except to say that I imagine it was as close to a look of pure bliss as one could see, an angelic smile on a pretty face flushed with need. Her lovely eyes were filled with yearning and fervor. “Oh, God, that feels so awesome!” she purred as her hips settled against me.
“Ah…yeah…it sure does!” I agreed. I reached up and cupped a lovely firm breast in each hand, then I began rubbing my thumbs over her rigid nipples.
“Jeezum!” Hillary exclaimed, shuddering. “I love it when you do that!” She leaned forward, placed her hands on my shoulders, and began raising and lowering her hips slowly.
“I love it when you do that!” I told her. I tried to lay still, to let her do the work, but my body wouldn’t let me. She continued to rise and fall on me, maintaining a deliberate pace and, before long, my hips were moving, keeping tempo with her motions. I couldn’t help it I was still toying with her nipples and I could tell she was getting more and more aroused because of the flush spreading from her face down over her chest. The fact that she was uttering soft moans and gasps was additional evidence of how turned on she was.
I finally released one of her breasts and lifted my head to take the nipple in my mouth.
“Oh, Godddddddd!” she groaned. Her hips began moving more actively. She now kept her middle pressed against mine while she rocked her hips. The way our bodies were pressed together ensured that her clit got a lot of contact, which caused an extremely rapid elevation of her level of arousal. An unending stream of passionate noises poured from her and, looking up at her, I could see that her eyes had lost focus. She was going to cum soon, and so was I.
“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeahhhhhhh!” she groaned at last. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and her body went into a series of shudders that were almost convulsions.
I realized I was making the same kind of feral noises she was and, at the same time, my body exploded into a whirling, exploding world of ecstasy and my hot fluids once again jetted into her.
When she finally passed her peak, Hillary collapsed onto my chest and laid there for quite a while, gasping, getting her breathing back under control. “Oh God, making love with you is always so damn good,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”
“It is wonderful, isn’t it?” topkapı escort I agreed, wrapping my arms around her. After a while we got up and got baths, again managing to do so without winding up making love again, although there was some temptation to do just that. Hillary had brought a change of clothes with her. “To make sure I’m not late for class,” she giggled.
I made breakfast for us, Spanish omelets, and we ate them without much in the way of serious conversation. We did talk a little bit about the assignment I’d given for the next class, however. Hillary, it seemed, was very interested in seeing what her three male classmates would have to say about the passage I’d assigned for them to read because it was the first one in which a woman played a prominent role.
“Those guys are all male chauvinists,” she sniffed as we ate. “Maybe they are,” I said. “You’ll have to wait and see. Maybe they’ll surprise you., Remember, you surprised me.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “I’ve seen the way they are with girls.”
“Just give them a chance,” I said.
“Yeah, OK,” she replied.
While I cleaned up after breakfast, she went back to the living room and re-read the assignment. Would wonders never cease? I thought about pointing out that she’d changed quite a bit in a few days, which might mean the boys could, too, but decided not to.
It also occurred to me that I was becoming far too comfortable having Hillary here in my home – and in my bed. Our relationship had no future and was fraught with risks for both of us. And, to add to my discomfort, I also realized that since it was Thursday, it could very well be the last time she could spend the night. I was headed for the seacoast – and my family – after class on Friday and her parents were due home. I doubted that she’d be able to spend the night at my place once her parents returned home. Then, like the cherry on my sundae of recriminations, it also occurred to me that her boyfriend would be back this weekend as well.
“You look kind of down in the dumps,” Hillary said, startling me. I glanced over and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway. “What’s the matter?”
I shook my head. “Nothing, really, just thinking about everything I have to do today. I mean, I have a class this morning, then I have meetings about my new job this afternoon…”
She walked over, put her arms around my waist, hugged me, and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Why don’t I make dinner tonight?” she said. “Then you don’t have to worry about that, anyhow.”
“Ah…OK…ah…sure,” I said.
We exchanged kisses, almost like an old married couple, then Hillary went out, got in her car, and headed off down my driveway. I waited about a half-hour, then I headed for school. Knowing I wouldn’t be seeing her in school made the day both easier and harder, but I managed to get through it. My distraction over my affair with Hillary didn’t keep me from enjoying working on plans for the up-coming school year with the Middle School principal, my new boss. If I could keep my affair secret, I could wind up having a great school year.
I had time to think driving to work and decided that Hillary and I needed to talk. I needed to tell her that our affair was just that, an affair, and that there was no future relationship in the offing. I love my wife and I don’t intend to leave her for Hillary and I believe Hillary needs to know that, or at least hear me say it. The sick thing was that I don’t think I can give Hillary up, either, even though I know it would be best for her, and for me.
On the way back to the house – and Hillary – after work, I found myself thinking about another problem I faced. How well I would handle facing my wife and daughter when I saw them this weekend? Clearly nobody else had noticed anything different about me – OK, the woman I knew at the supermarket noticed I was a little down, but nobody else – which meant I was doing a pretty good job of hiding the inner turmoil I felt about my relationship with Hillary. On the other hand, none of the people I’d been dealing with this week knew me anywhere near as well as my wife did. She could see – and sense – things about me nobody else could. How could I keep my secret from my wife? Or could I?
I set aside my rumination when I turned into my driveway. Hillary had promised to make dinner for me. Just thinking about her pushed all of the worrisome thoughts aside – for now. And, as it had every day this week, it started things happening in my body. After a day of “withdrawal” from her I was almost home and the “fix” for my “addiction” would be waiting for me.
I parked my car next to Hillary’s and, my heart pounding, got out and headed into the house. A wave of delightful smells greeted me as I walked through the door. I put my briefcase down in the usual spot, hung my jacket in the hall closet, and headed for the kitchen. Hillary was there, wearing a snug-fitting peach colored cotton short-sleeved top and equally snug-fitting blue jeans. A strip of bare fatih escort midriff showed between the top and jeans. She was busy stirring something cooking in a pot on the stove and apparently hadn’t heard me come in. Taking care to be as quiet as I could, I made my way across the kitchen and, when I was standing directly behind Hillary, I grabbed her waist and said, “What’s for dinner?”
“Eeeyahhh!” she yelled. She jumped backward, bumping into me, and almost knocked both of us over. When Hillary finally realized it was me, she punched me on the arm and said, “You scared the heck out of me, sneaking up on me like that.”
“Sorry,” I said. “What are you making? It smells wonderful.”
She grinned at me. “I made a chicken and rice casserole,” she explained. “It’s in the oven. Should be done in a few minutes. That…” She gestured over her shoulder toward the pot on the stove, the one she’d been stirring. “…is glazed carrots.”
“Well, it sure smells good,” I replied.
“Why don’t you set the table while I finish this up?” Hillary said.
“OK,” I said, and did just that.
By the time I’d finished setting the table, the meal was ready, so we sat down and ate.
“Wow, this is as good as it smells,” I said after I forked my first helping of casserole into my mouth.
Hillary smiled and blushed, clearly pleased by my praise.
“You’re quite a cook,” I continued, watching her face get even redder.
“Ah…I…um…I told you I could cook, didn’t I?” she responded, acting surprisingly shy.
“You sure did…and you sure can,” I said. “Have you been here all day getting dinner ready?”
Hillary giggled. “Of course not. I went home and worked on that ‘assignment’ you gave me, then I read the reading assignment again, well, actually I finished the book. I like the way he writes.”
“I’m glad you’re being so studious,” I told her after I’d eaten some more of the delicious casserole and also some of the glazed carrots, which were at least as good as the casserole. “You know, they made a movie out of Conagher,” I said.
“No kidding?” Hillary replied.
“It was just a TV movie,” I explained. “Sam Elliot played Conagher and his wife, Katharine Ross, plays Edie.”
“I think Sam Elliot is so sexy,” Hillary responded. “I’m not sure why, either. I mean, it isn’t like he’s this real stud or anything, but…”
“Want to watch the movie after we eat?” I asked. “I have a copy of it.”
“Sure,” Hillary said.
It occurred to me that our interactions today were very “domestic” for want of a better word. We were pretty much acting the way my wife and I do when she’s home and not the way Hillary and I had acted the previous few nights, which was like a pair of sex-starved animals. I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the change. Neither was I sure whether it was a good thing or bad thing that it had taken place.
We finished eating and began clearing the table. At one point, Hillary had bent over to put something in the dishwasher and, at the same time, I was taking a dish to the sink to rinse and wasn’t watching where I was going, so I bumped into her very lovely bottom. “Sorry,” I apologized.
She stood up and our eyes locked. I felt something sweeping through me and, all of a sudden, the façade of domesticity vanished. The next thing I knew, Hillary was in my arms, her body writhing against mine. Our lips joined and our tongues lashed. I realized, when I felt warm flesh under my fingers, that I’d begun tugging at her clothing and at the same time I felt her hands touching my flesh, meaning she was doing exactly the same thing to me. We didn’t talk, although we did make sounds into each other’s mouths like the animals in heat we were as we peeled the clothing from each other’s bodies.
Of course once we did have our clothes off, we had another problem in that there didn’t appear to be any comfortable place there in the kitchen where we could consummate the fierce need we were both feeling. I looked around wildly and my eyes fell on the kitchen table. I grabbed Hillary, spun her around, sat her on the table, and stepped between her splayed legs. We continued kissing while she grabbed my erection and centered the tip on her need-dampened opening. I slid my hands down to her buttocks and hauled her onto me, sinking all the way into her in one quick thrust. “Unnnnhhh!” she grunted as I did.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling our bodies even tighter together. I could feel her rigid nipples pressing against my chest. Her legs wrapped around behind mine, literally fastening her body to mine. I held her buttocks in my hands and could feel the muscles in them moving as she feverishly ground her middle against mine.
Clutching each other desperately in the middle of my kitchen, we grunted and panted like the lust-maddened animals we were while our bodies struggled against each other, sharing exquisite pleasure and seeking release.
Needing to breathe, we broke our kiss and the feverish sounds eyüp escort of our bodies slapping together grew louder, as did the sounds coming from our mouths. “Unnnn!!” “Arrrrhhh!” “Oh, yeahhhh!” “Unnnnn!!!” “Yeahhhh!” “Arrrrhhh!” “Nnnnuhhhh!”
I felt Hillary’s arms and legs tighten, and the muscles in her bottom went into a kind of spasm. “Nnnnnnowwww! Take…Oh, God…take me now!” she wailed. “Please! Oh, God, please! Take me now!”
I felt the rippling contractions inside her on my embedded erection and that wiped out what little ability to hold back I still had. Uttering groans as impassioned as hers, I clutched my young lover against me as tightly as I could while my warm seed spewed into her quivering body. Hillary’s cries of joy grew even louder when she felt me exploding into her.
When our need was finally sated, I did lower Hillary onto the table top, but we continued to cling to each other, almost in desperation, as our breathing and heart rate returned to something near normal.
“Oh…God…I…I don’t believe we did that here in the kitchen,” Hillary said, still sounding a little breathless. “God…I…I wanted…needed you so bad!”
I kissed her gently on the forehead. “Obviously, I needed you, too, at least as bad as you needed me.”
“I guess!” she exclaimed, giggling softly. “Wow!” She slid her arms around my waist again, leaned forward, and gave me a hug. “I…from the time you got here…I was trying to be more…you know…ah…grown up…I guess, about the way we are, but…”
“You don’t need to be ‘grown up’ for me,” I told her, trailing my fingers up and down her bare back and feeling her tremble a little. “I like you just fine the way you are. And I happen to think you’re about as ‘grown up’ as anybody I know.”
We got ourselves cleaned up, picked up our clothes, and put on our bathrobes, then we finished clearing the table and getting the dishes cleaned up. “You still want to watch that movie?” I asked Hillary after I’d turned on the dishwasher.
“Yeah, I would,” she said.
We walked into the living room and Hillary made herself comfortable on the sofa while I found the movie. I turned on the TV and VCR, shoved the movie in the slot in the VCR, then I joined my young lover on the sofa. Snuggled in each other’s arms, we watched the movie, occasionally commenting on a difference between the movie and the book, or on some aspect of the film.
“Sam Elliott plays Conagher just the way I imagined him,” Hillary commented at one point.
“I thought so, too,” I said. “I’ve always had a problem watching movies made from books I’ve read. I get a picture of the characters in my head and it usually doesn’t match the person they pick to play that role in the movie.”
“I know what you mean,” Hillary noted in agreement.
When the movie was over, I turned off both the TV and VCR and turned so I was looking at Hillary. She gave me a puzzled look. “There are some things we need to talk about,” I said.
OK, like what? “Ah…well…when…when do you leave for school?” It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to ask, but it would at least get the discussion going.
She looked even more puzzled. “Ah…we’re going up there on August 21st,” she told me. “I have to be there on the 22nd. Why?”
That was good news. My family was coming back from the seacoast on August 24th. “Well…” I took a deep breath. “That means August 20th will be the last time we can be together. I mean…ah…”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, surprising me by appearing far calmer than I felt.
“And another thing…I…I have to go to the seacoast tomorrow when I’m done with my classes,” I said. I wasn’t being anywhere near as tactful as I wanted to be.
This time I could see a little sadness in her eyes. “Yeah…I…um…I…ah, I know that, too,” she said, very softly. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears now.
I felt terrible. I deserved to feel terrible. It was my fault she was hurt. “Hillary, I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“About what?” she asked. She made no effort to hide the tears in her eyes. “About what we…about what we did?”
I shook my head. “No…I…I’m not sorry about what we’ve done,” I said quickly. “But I am very sorry I hurt you. I…I should never have allowed any of this to happen. I should never have forced you to…”
“You didn’t force me to do anything,” Hillary snapped. Her eyes, though still wet with tears, showed determination and a trace of anger. “I wanted to do everything we did. Everything! And I’m not sorry. Not even a little.”
“Hillary, I…um…we…you and I…you know we don’t have any future, don’t you?” I said, fumbling for words. Was there any way to explain to her exactly how I felt? Did I even know how I really felt?
“We…we have until the 21st,” she said. “Don’t we?”
I should have told her that we didn’t, but I didn’t have the strength to do that. “Yes,” I said. “We do have until then.” I took a deep breath. “Hillary, you…you have to understand. I…I’m not going to leave my wife to marry you or anything like that, I…”
“I knew that when we started,” she replied, looking me directly in the eye. “I never thought you would leave your wife.”
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