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Every so often, I remembered Katie—the well-endowed hardware lady—and I would smile and wish I could relive our one-night adventure. I know that I was just another conquest for her, but I sure did enjoy being conquered. When these memories hit me hard, I would usually go on the lookout for some girl-on-girl action. Unfortunately, I was new to this game and my gaydar didn’t working very well. A lot of Bear Creek girls wear cowboy shirts and tight jeans, but that doesn’t mean they walk on the wild side. Mostly, they are just trying to attract manly men who like down-home girls.
Hell, I like manly men, too, but now I knew for sure that I also like to cuddle with frisky women. Call me heteroflexible.
I finally got lucky. I was sitting by my lonesome, eating a hot pastrami sandwich and drinking a cold beer at a table for two outside a mom-and-pop diner called Fill ‘Er Up, when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and a heard a friendly woman’s voice, “Mind if I join you?” I smiled and said, “Sure, happy to have someone to talk to.”
The warm hand belonged to a woman whose name was Sharon McKenzie but had always been called Mack—which was kind of funny because she was sort of built like a Mack truck. She was solid, the kind of woman you wouldn’t want to play tackle football against.
She was wearing a pretty yellow sleeveless dress that showed off her sturdy arms and ample breasts, I noticed that her hips were thick, but I couldn’t see much of her legs underneath that pretty dress. What really stood out were her two big mammas—what crass guys would call ripe melons or full jugs. They sagged a bit, but she was well past 40 and I didn’t see any bra straps. If those mammas were natural and unsupported, she had something to be proud of.
Mack called the waiter over and told him that she would have what I was having. I noticed that there were lots of empty tables and I started wondering why Mack wanted to sit at my table. Yeah, I have a suspicious mind but, sometimes, my suspicions are right. She was happy to talk and I was happy to listen, seeing if I could pick up more clues about her intentions.
Every time Mack took a bite of her messy pastrami sandwich, she leaned over her plate so that she wouldn’t spilling anything on her pretty yellow dress—and I got a great down-blouse peek at her tits. There was definitely no bra—just lovely plump white breasts with cute reddish brown freckles.
No matter how hard I tried (and I tried mightily), I couldn’t quite see her nipples. However, just by my trying to sneak a peek, I realized how much I wanted to stick my hands down her dress and explore those beauties. I imagined that I was standing behind her and massaging her shoulders until she got good and relaxed and I could slide my hands down the front of her dress and grab two big handfuls.
I snapped out of my dream when I realized that Mack was still talking to me.
She grew up in a small never-heard-of-it town in Oregon’s Hood River Valley, where her parents had a small pear orchard that they ended up selling to The Fruit Company, which is famous for the holiday gift baskets you can buy at Costco or online.
She had a pretty carefree life until she was 13 and her breasts suddenly sprouted, giving her a pair of near-perfect 34Cs—full and firm with nipples pointing slightly upward. Mack’s parents had once been randy teenagers themselves, so they kept Mack on lockdown until her senior year in high school, when she was 18 and getting ready to leave home for college. They figured Mack needed to learn about horny boys before she was completely on her own.
By now, Mack’s 34Cs were 34-double Ds and guys who had been salivating for years were waiting to pounce. She often stood naked in front of a full-length mirror, admiring her gorgeous body and fantasizing about what boys would say if they saw her naked. Long legs, flat tummy, and those bountiful breasts. Full and firm with light brown areolas and sweet pink nipples waiting to be pinched, nibbled, and sucked. The kind of breasts that women might pay thousands of dollars to get with plastic surgery and here she had them, all natural.
Mack decided that she would take every advantage of the considerable assets that she had been blessed with. Make the horndogs take her to movies and amusement parks and buy her food and presents, and she would let them feel her up. Fair’s fair.
Guys being guys, the horndogs went along with her rules, happy to pay to play with her double Ds and hoping to get inside her pants. She let them fondle her boobs as much as they wanted, but below the waist was strictly off limits. She defended her pussy with tight jeans and firm nos.
Movie theaters were the boys’ favorite ambush sites and Mack secretly laughed at their awkward moves. An arm casually around her shoulders, then fingers sliding down her chest, then groping her blouse-covered breast as if she was so engrossed in the movie that she didn’t notice the tit massage she was getting. After a while, the guy would clumsily unbutton her blouse and then slip his eager fingers inside her bra—squeezing her tit-flesh and pinching bostancı escort bayan her nipple—still acting as if she wasn’t paying attention. Eventually, the guy would lift her bra over the top of her breasts, so that he could attack both of her tits.
Mack just kept watching the movie while the guy had his fun. If the guy was cute, she would get super turned on but the challenge she set for herself was to defend her pussy and she never lost that battle. If a guy’s hand went below her waist, she politely pulled his arm away with a firm no. If a guy persisted, she said no real loud and the guy pulled back when other people in the movie theater turned and looked at Mr. Guilty.
One thing she learned from all the attention her breasts got was that she had VERY sensitive nipples. Her pussy flooded with juices when her nipples were pinched, pulled, and twisted. Sometimes she felt that she was on the edge of a tremendous orgasm and wanted to put one hand inside her pants to finish the job. But she always waited until she got home to take care of business—pinching a nipple with one hand and rubbing her pussy with the other hand while she fantasized about giving herself to Mr. Right.
Once she was in a mostly empty movie theater watching some supposed-to-be-scary movie with a cute guy named Mike. He had been a baseball pitcher in high school and had the casual arrogance that a lot of athletes have. Now he was an insurance salesman and he used his charm to persuade people to buy more insurance than they needed. He assumed that he could persuade Mack to go further than she planned to go.
Since Mike was undeniably cute and charming, she decided to go to the movies with no bra and an easily unbuttoned blouse, confident that she could keep Mike at second base. When he picked her up at her house, she was sure he noticed because he kept sneaking peeks at her tits. who wouldn’t? She knew that, even though they were big and firm, they jiggled deliciously when she went braless.
They found an empty row in the movie theater and Mike sat on her left side, “accidentally” rubbing his shoulder on hers while he talked about some blah-blah and snuck some more peeks at her tits. She stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice the shoulder rubbing. After the movie started, he waited about 20 minutes before he started the usual routine: right arm casually over her shoulder, then hand sliding down to her right breast. Several minutes of outside-the-blouse touching, fondling, and nipple flicking, then over to the easily unbuttoned buttons.
He was surely pleased, but not surprised, to find no bra interfering with his access to her double-Ds. Her blouse was wide open and her beautiful tits jutted out in full display, though there was no one but Mike sitting close enough to see them. He held her right tit with his right arm and went to work on her left tit with his left hand. He squeezed softly. He grabbed roughly. He lifted her breast from underneath, squeezed it like a ripe orange, and then let it fall back down to her chest. He rubbed her nipple with the palm of his hand, twisted her nipple with his fingers, and stretched her nipple by using it to lift her heavy breast. When he got bored with mauling one of her tits, he went to work to the other one.
Sometimes he had both hands working simultaneously on her right boob, squeezing the flesh with his right hand while he pinched and twisted her nipple with his left hand
All the while, Mack stared straight ahead, pretending to be interested in a not-very-interesting movie, and trying to ignore her very wet pussy.
At one point, she caved a little bit. She didn’t usually let guys kiss her, but Mike was so cute and she was so turned on that she not only let him kiss her, she let him get his tongue inside her mouth and French-kiss the crap out of her while his hands kept up the assault on her breasts,
She might have been ready to unbutton her jeans, but they were interrupted by a stranger who plopped himself down in the empty seat on her right. They broke their kiss and stared at this guy: nicely dressed, maybe in his late-20s, handsome face, nice full head of hair, big smile. She and Mike leaned back in their chairs and pretended to watch the movie again, thinking about what had just happened and wondering what might have happened next if this moron hadn’t shown up.
Mike was thinking that he had been real close to third base. Mack was thinking the same thing. She was also thinking that the new guy must have noticed them making out and moved closer so that he could get a better look at the action. Then Mack realized that her blouse was still wide open with her double-Ds on full display. She quickly closed her blouse and held it shut with both hands while she wondered how much the new guy had seen.
They three of them watched the movie for a while, thinking about what would happen next. Mike made the first move. He decided what the hell, he wasn’t going to let this stranger spoil his fun. He slipped his left hand inside Mack’s blouse, grabbed her left tit, and rubbed it softly. She let Mike resume ümraniye escort his fun and pretended to ignore the stranger.
The next thing she knew, there was another hand entering her blouse from the right side, and grabbing her right tit. It was the stranger! Mack was so surprised that she let out a small “Ooh!” and then looked to both sides. The boys stared straight ahead as if they didn’t know they what their hands were doing. Fat chance! Mack thought about it for a few seconds and then thought, “What the hell.” If both her tits were being fondled, did it really matter if the two hands belonged to one guy or two guys?
They were certainly real sweet about it. They softly caressed her skin and gently squeezed her flesh. They flicked her nipples, but didn’t pinch them harshly. Afterward, she had to admit that she was flattered by all the attention she was getting from these two good-looking guys and more turned on than she had ever been in her life.
Mack spread her arms spread wide, put one hand on each boy’s shoulders, and thrust her tits upward. Her signal was unmistakeable: “Here they are boys. You all enjoy yourselves.” And that they did—working both breasts nonstop, alternating between squeezing her firm boobs and pinching her erect nipples.
At times, they seemed to have a coordinated attack, lifting and dropping both of Mack’s breasts at the same time or flicking both of her nipples simultaneously. She even wondered if perhaps the stranger was not really a stranger. Maybe, he was a friend of Mike’s (or a cousin or older brother) that he had invited to the theater to share the fun?
Sometimes, they switched breasts with Mike moving over to play with Mack’s right tit while the stranger had his fun with her left tit. As the movie went on, they got a bit rougher—squeezing her breasts more urgently and pinching her nipples more roughly.
Mack arched her back and thrust her breasts upward as she put her hands on each boy’s neck and pushed their faces toward her swollen nipples. They latched on and sucked like babies that hadn’t been fed for days. Her nipples got longer and thinner as they sucked ferociously. She desperately wanted to come, either from the guys sucking on her engorged nipples or from putting several fingers inside her pussy.
Then they went too far. Mike and the stranger let go of Mack’s tits for a second and shook hands! Then they went back to mauling her breasts and nipples. What the fuck? Mack enjoyed the attention and was plenty wet. And she did have this implicit deal with her dates—they would buy her stuff and she would let them fondle her double-Ds. But this was way too explicit. If Mike really cared about her, he would have beat up any guy who put his hands on his date’s tits. Instead, Mike was treating her like a piece of meat that he could share with anyone who happened to stop by.
Mack jumped to her feet, yelled “Fuck you!,” and stormed out of the movie theater. She must have been a real sight as she stomped up the aisle, through the lobby, and out into the street with her double-Ds bouncing wildly. She didn’t care. She was pissed. In fact, she realized later that maybe she wanted people to notice her big tits and open blouse and think about what might have happened to her inside the theater.
After that, she had a little heart-to-heart with herself and decided that it was time to stop goofing around, trading tit-gropes for trinkets. Her boobs weren’t going to be perfect forever and she needed to take advantage of them while she could. Marry an old fool with lots of money and cash in when he cashed out.
She got a job at an expensive restaurant that only rich people could afford and flirted with the old guys who were eating alone or with other guys. She didn’t have a fetish for ancients, she just wanted to marry someone who would die soon and leave her more money than she knew what to do with. She wasn’t going to poison him her anything. In fact, she would make him deliriously happy for the rest of his hopefully brief life. It seemed like a fair deal and far more rewarding than trading tit fondles for movie tickets.
Eventually, she hit the jackpot. Literally. An old guy named Jack who had a pot of gold. He had made his fortune in real estate and now he was in his early 70s, widowed, and in questionable health. After months of flirting (and learning these important details), she left her name and telephone number on a slip of paper tucked inside the restaurant bill.
She got a phone call from Jack the next morning and happily agreed to a trip on his sailboat that weekend. She knew that there would be two great things about going out with Jack on his sailboat. First, they would be alone and could trade intimate information, Second, she could wear a bathing suit that would show Jack what she had to offer.
Long story short, it worked as planned. Mack wore a bikini bottom that showed off her shaved camel toe and a transparent top that showed off her firm breasts and perky pokies. Jack’s sailboat was a beautiful Crealock 37, which was designed by a great British naval architect named Bill Crealock, kartal escort and one of just 16 ships built in the late 1970s in Newport Beach. The boats were later redesigned a bit and renamed the Pacific Seacraft 37, but purists preferred the original Crealocks.
The way Jack talked about it, Mack was pretty sure that owning a Crealock was a status thing that allowed him to brag about having a beautiful rare ship, which suggested that Jack would be happy to brag about having a beautiful young girlfriend/wife. Either way, girlfriend or wife, he was going to be a sugar daddy, so the trick was to persuade him that marriage was the way to go. Simple solution. Cross out the girlfriend option by insisting on no sex before marriage. Mack was still a virgin, so it was easy to claim that she was saving her virginity for her husband.
As they sailed away from land, she kept her shoulders back and her pokies pointed straight ahead while she listened to Jack talk about his life and, every once in a while, she threw in a few tantalizing tidbits about hers. He talked about his big scores developing land in Southern California. He spent a lot of time on mathematical models that predicted which way the suburban sprawl around Los Angeles and San Diego was headed. Then he bought up old citrus groves and vacant desert-like land and waited until the sprawl got close enough to make it profitable to build ranch homes, McMansions, and strip malls.
He married a beautiful woman when he was in his 20s, but now he was now in his 70s, ten years removed from the death of his wife in a car accident. It had taken him a long time to get over her death, so he buried himself in his work and pretty much ignored the middle-aged women who were chasing him. He told Mack one of his favorite jokes:
A new guy shows up at a Florida retirement community that is full of women who are well past their prime and had outlived their husbands and not found a replacement. The new guy is immediately approached by several women wearing too much makeup. One woman asks, “So, you’re new here?”
He replies politely, “Yes Ma’am.”
She continues, “Why are your arms so pale?”
He replies, “I just got out of prison.”
She asks, What were you in prison for?”
He answers, “For killing my wife.”
She continues hopefully, “So, you’re single then?”
Jack then confessed that he had no interest in desperate older women and that Mack had awakened his long-suppressed sexual feelings.
Bingo! Time to seal the deal. Mack said that she had spent her youth fighting off immature boys, when what she really wanted was a man knew what he wanted in the world and had achieved it. She was looking for a man whose successes had given him unshakeable confidence and who was experienced enough to know what women wanted.
The sweetener that would close the deal was her confession she was still a virgin. They both knew the story about the free milk and a cow. She wasn’t going to give up her virginity until she had a wedding ring on her finger.
While Jack pondered that, Mack took off her bikini top and dove in the water. She wanted Jack to know that she had magnificent tits and was athletic and fearless. She also knew that Jack was smart enough to recognize that she was advertising herself and to know that she was advertising was because she was interested in him. Jack stayed on board while she alternated swimming and lying on her back with her firm tits pointing at the sun.
Back on board, she pretended to be cold so that Jack could rub her dry with a towel. He laughed and smiled while he felt every part of her body, lingering over her breasts. Gotta make sure those glorious tits are dry! Jack had a hand on each breast when Mack threw her arms around him impulsively and gave him a big open-mouth kiss. He let go of the towel and grabbed her by the ass as his tongue roamed freely through freely through every nook and cranny of her mouth. When Mack came up for air, Jack said, “My god!,” and she said, “Yummy!”
Jack tried to get one hand inside her bikini bottom but she pushed it away: “Remember, I’m saving that for my wedding night!” She could feel his huge boner through his bathing suit as he pleaded, “Baby, I’m dying!” She replied, “Not today sweetie.”
Jack put his hand on the back of her neck and tried to push her head down towards his throbbing cock. She pulled herself away and wagged her index finger at him: “No, no. That counts as sex, too.”
Jack let go of her neck and gave her his best puppy dog look, while she stood up straight, buck naked with her hands on her hips, showing off her spectacular breasts and juicy camel toe with a clear offer: Marry me and these will be yours 24-7.
Two weeks later, they had a civil ceremony at the local county clerk’s office. She had the wedding ring she wanted and he had the sexy virgin he wanted. They were like rabbits, with Jack jumping her bones day and night. When Mack was in the kitchen cooking, she wore nothing but a cook’s apron tied loosely in the back. From the front, Jack had a nice sideview of her tits; from the back, he got a full view of her ass. If he had the energy, he would come up behind her and slip his hands inside the front of her apron and take her doggy style bent over the kitchen counter. He wouldn’t even bother taking off the apron. When he was done, Mack went back to her cooking.
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