Centerfold
by Ann Douglas
Jim McGuire skidded his bike to a stop in front of the large blue
sided house. Setting the bike up against the white picket fence,
the eighteen-year-old glanced at his watch. He smiled as he saw
that he was right on time. Not that Mrs. Burke would’ve been angry
if he had been a little late, but it was a matter of pride to the
sandy haired young man that he showed up places when he said he
would.
Originally, he had planned to spend this week in Florida. His
parents had promised him a trip to the Kennedy Space Center as a
graduation present. He’d been interested in space since he was ten
and had been looking forward to the trip for years. But the
Challenger disaster last January changed all that. He told his
parents that he’d go when the Shuttles flew again, even through
some critics were saying that might not be until 1987, or 88.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Burke.” he called out as he spotted
the silver haired woman waiting on the porch.
“Afternoon James.” the fifty-two year old waved back as
she pulled a large stack of mail from the box.
Christine Burke had been a fixture in the neighborhood since
long before Jim McGuire had been born. Almost every kid in the
area looked on her as sort of an adopted Aunt. Without any
children of their own, she and her husband, Doctor Ron Burke had
made up for it by getting involved in many of the youth oriented
activities in the small town. In fact it was as a Den Mother that
Jim had first met her when he joined the Cub Scouts. A few years
later, when he graduated to the Boy Scouts, Ron Burke had been
the senior Scoutmaster.
The memory of his days in the Scouts made Jim think once
again what a shame it was what happened to Dr. Burke last year.
He had been coming home late one night after visiting a patient
and was involved in a head on collision with a drunk driver. The
police said the other driver had been doing ninety miles an hour
when he slammed into Dr. Burke’s station wagon. The fact that he
didn’t survive the crash either was a poor consolation.
It was because of Dr. Burke that Jim had been coming over
these last few days. After a year, Christine Burke had decided
that her husband of almost twenty-eight years would want her to
get on with her life and not spend it mourning his death. So she
had begun to clear out some of his things. Clothes to various good
will agencies. Parts of his library to the local boys club. And now,
most of his scouting gear to the troop.
Technically, Jim wasn’t a Boy Scout anymore, having passed
his 18th Birthday three weeks before. But he had been filling in
for the one remaining Scoutmaster who was away on vacation.
Besides, with all the Burkes had done for the troop over the years,
it was the least he could do.
“You know where everything is, James.” Christine said as
she stepped off the porch. “I’m going to run a few errands before
it gets much hotter. Although I can’t really imagine how it could.”
“I heard over in the drugstore that it’s supposed to drop to
a cool eighty-five degrees tomorrow.” Jim grinned as she walked
passed him.
“I’d better dig up my winter coat then.” Christine laughed.
As he watched Christine Burke get into her car and pull out
of the driveway, Jim was glad she had decided to put the tragedy
behind her. In fact, he’d heard more than a few of the older men
at his Dad’s hardware store remark that they’d love to date
Christine now that she was a widow. Of course a few of them had
put it in a lot blunter terms. They’d been friends of Ron Burke and
many times over the years had envied the woman he went to bed
with each night.
Jim had thought that if he were thirty or so years older,
he’d probably want to date Mrs. Burke too. Aside from her
personality, which was reason enough in his mind, Christine Burke
definitely wasn’t what you thought of when you tried to picture a
woman in her early fifties.
It wasn’t so much her looks, although she did look younger,
the result of paying attention to both diet and exercise all her life.
It was a matter of attitude. Someone once told him that age was
just a state of mind. That a person could be pretty much the same
person at 50 as they were at 20.
Originally, he found it hard to believe, simply because he
couldn’t image his own parents as teenagers. That had changed
when he got to spend time with the Burkes.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the Burkes as teenagers, because
there were times when they acted like they still were. They had a
zest for life that getting older hadn’t diminished. Jim smiled as he
remembered the All Scout Camping Trip they had gone on his
Junior year of high school. An overnight trip, the Cubs had come
along, and with them Mrs. Burke. Jim had gotten up to make a
bathroom run during the night and had almost run into the Burkes
in the woods. He didn’t get close enough to actually see anything,
but from what he heard it wasn’t hard to tell what they were
doing. He couldn’t imagine his parents doing anything like that,
even though they were almost ten years younger.
Over an hour passed as Jim worked up a good sweat going
through piles of Mr. Burke’s stuff, despite the air conditioning in
the den. It wasn’t so much the camping equipment that took a lot
of time, but a lot of records and troop plans that filled several
boxes. Then of course they were mixed in with a lot of other
folders, magazines and such that had to be sorted. It looked like
the man saved everything he ever read or wrote over forty years.
As much as many of the Scouts liked to think otherwise, Ron Burke
was far from perfect. His haphazard filing system was just one
example.
“He’s got Time and Life magazines here from the 1950’s.”
Jim said to himself as he pulled open the lid from another storage
box. “I’d better be careful with these, I’ve heard some of these
books are worth a lot of money to collectors.
Carefully putting those magazines aside, Jim’s eyes lit up
when he saw the pile below them.
“All right, Playboys!” he said out loud.
Actually, it was a few issues of Playboy and a couple of men’s
magazines he had never heard of. Still naked girls were naked
girls.
“I think it’s time for a break.” he laughed as he sat down at
the desk and opened the first magazine to the centerfold. “Let’s
see what they have to say about Miss June of 1960.”
Miss June had a 36-20-36 figure, Jim read as he opened to
the centerfold. 5 foot 2 and 108 lbs she’d been born on October
17, 1937. Her ambition was to do a Broadway show. Turn ons were
the color black and strawberries. Turnoffs included hypocrites and
snobs. Hobbies were swimming, sketching and dancing.
"Now why can't I meet a girl like that?" Jim laughed aloud
as he spread the 22-year-old's centerfold to its full length.
Looking again at the data sheet, Jim realized that Miss June
had been born six years before his mother. That put a little
damper on the fantasy that had popped into his mind.
Jim closed that issue of Playboy and picked up another. This
one was an even earlier edition from 1955. The centerfold in that
one was a really cute redhead with short hair. Her pictorial was
shot in what was at the time a very modern bath. It was a
perfectly natural setting for a woman to be nude, yet he found it
to be very erotic. Much more so than the spread pussy shots he’d
sometimes seen in current magazines. A third publication, one that
he’d never heard of before, held similar photos. Pretty women
nude or semi-nude in natural soundings. That and another issue of
the same book dated from the early 1960’s.
“God, these girls must’ve given thousands of guys hard-ons!”
Jim thought out loud as she flipped through yet another old title.
“I know they’re giving me one.” he added with a smile.
Taking in a few more pictorials, the eighteen-year-old
wondered what these women were like today? Grandmothers most
likely he mused as he remembered the publication dates. He’d love
to see a picture of them now, just to compare. Not nude of course,
he didn’t think he wanted to see old women in the buff. Still, some
older actresses he’d seen in movies and television still looked
pretty good.
Jim’s blue eyes noticed that one magazine toward the
bottom of the pile was wrapped in plastic. Curious, he pulled that
one out. The tape holding the flap in place was yellow with age,
signifying it hadn’t been opened in years. It was another one of
those old titles that Jim had never heard of, dated Summer of
1955.
Looking at the first two pictorials, Jim wondered why
Doctor Burke had bothered to cover this book with plastic. It
didn’t seem to be any different than the other half dozen books he
had already looked at. In fact, if he rated the first two girls he
looked at, they would be on the bottom of the list.
“Wait a second!” the young man exclaimed into the empty
air as he reached the third photo shoot. “This girl is definitely an
11!”
The woman he referred to was 21 years old with baby blonde
hair. It was cut short in an elaborate hairstyle that could only be
called elegant. That simple word applied to the rest of her as well.
Bright blue-green eyes sparkled out of the glossy centerfold, the
jewels of an exquisite face. Lips bright red in the style of the day
framed a perfect smile, instantly captivating the young man.
Almost reluctantly, he let his gaze move down her body. A
body that matched her visage. She had flawlessly rounded
breasts that were perfectly proportioned to her 5’5”, 115-pound
form. A snow-white fur coat she had loosely wrapped around her
hid the nipples of her breasts, but Jim just knew they had to be as
perfect as the rest of her. In fact, when he thought about it, you
really couldn’t call this and any of the other photographs of this
young woman nudes. In every shot, even though you knew she was
naked, either the coat or a strategic shadow covered her vital
areas.
There was something strangely haunting about the young
woman as Jim stared at the headshot that finished the pictorial.
A sense that those blue-green eyes were looking right at him
across the years. A feeling that he’d looked into those eyes before.
“Holy shit!” Jim cried out as he finally looked at the model’s
name.
Again and again, he read the little fact sheet, stopping once
more at the name Christine Ann Kimball. It had to be a coincidence
he thought.
Then in a flash of inspiration, Jim jumped up from behind
the desk and went to the large cabinet on the other side if the
room. On his last visit over here he had helped clean it out and
remembered seeing the Burke’s wedding album in there. Mrs.
Burke had said another time she’d love to show him the
photographs but that it was still too painful for her. Of course he
understood he’d told her.
He had to move a few other items to find the thick book. A
large smile filled his face as he lifted it and carried it back to the
desk. Laying the magazine spread across the top of the desk, he
opened the album beneath it. Quickly passing the many group
shots and church pictures, he stopped at a large portrait of the
bride. A loud whistle passed his lips. The sandy haired teen looked
into the same bewitching eyes he had seen in the old centerfold.
There was no mistaking it as he kept switching from the
album to the pictorial. Even the dates matched up. On the bottom
corner of the wedding scrapbook was the date 11/24/55, only a
few months after the magazine had been on the newsstands.
“Wow!” he exclaimed once more to the empty room. “Who’d
have ever imagined that?”
A “I know a secret” smirk formed at the corner of his mouth
when he remembered all the men at his Dad’s store that had
admired Mrs. Burke. Imagine how they’d react if they knew she’d
been a centerfold. They’d be beating down the door to her house
to be first in line.
Jim suddenly became aware of his own reaction to his
discovery. The erection he had developed from looking at the
other magazines had jumped to epic proportions - straining against
his jeans. He couldn’t remember being so hard since the first time
Jenny Morgan had let him take off her bra. The sight of those big
nipples had been enough for him to come in his pants.
Undoing his belt and the clasp on his jeans, Jim had his cock
in hand before he realized it. It felt good in the refrigerated air
and the sudden release reduced the pressure he felt behind it.
His gaze returned to the semi nude photos of the former
Christine Kimball and he found himself stroking his cock.
“God she was hot!” he though as he rubbed his manhood,
adding a moment later that in a way she still was.
Running his fingers up and down his hard cock, Jim couldn’t
remember ever feeling this good simply jerking off to a bunch of
magazine photographs. Then again, none of the women in the
magazines he’d used before had been the Cub Scout pack leader
when he was 8. That thought brought back the memory that when
he’d first discovered masturbation later in the 7th grade, Mrs.
Burke had been an often-used image in his self-gratification.
“Oh yeah, baby,” the young man murmured softly as she
closed his eyes and pictured an image of Christine Burke in her Den
Mother’s uniform. Or rather partially out of that blue skirt and
yellow blouse.
The sandy haired teen could feel the familiar explosion
building in his balls. He slowed down the motion of his hand,
realizing that he had better get out his handkerchief quick or he
was going to shoot all over Mr. Burke’s desk.
As he opened his eyes and reached into his back pocket,
Jim’s gaze fell once more on the glossy photo of Christine’s
21-year-old breasts.
“Oh man, I wonder if her tits still look that good?” he asked
himself out loud as he brought his handkerchief to the base of his
cock.
“Well maybe not that good, but Ron always said he thought
they were still pretty nice.”
The coldest fear Jim had ever felt in his young life suddenly
gripped him as the sound of Christine Burke’s voice filled the room.
His head snapped up and his hand released his cock as if it had
suddenly become a hot iron. For a moment he hoped it had been his
imagination. A hope that was quickly dashed when he looked to his
left and saw Christine standing in the doorway to the study.
Jim was speechless as she calmly walked across the room,
acting as if she walked in on young men jerking off to her nude
pictures every day of the week. As she got to the edge of the
desk, she looked over and saw the magazine that Jim had been
masturbating to. A warm smile filled her face.
“That was my first photo shoot,” she said as she turned the
page with an outstretched hand. “I did two more after that, but
Ron always loved this one the most. That’s how we met you know,
at that shoot. The photographer was a friend of Ron’s and had
invited him over to watch. Not that he needed his friend to see a
naked woman, even way back then. He was in his first year of
residency then and well acquainted with the nude female form. Ron
was more interested in the technical aspects of photography than
another look at some tits and ass. Of course that’s not the story
we told people when they asked how we met.”
Jim was now more in shock over Christine’s casual manner
than his being caught in the act. In fact he forgot all about his
cock still being out, never mind that it had quickly deflated.
“It’s not what you might think,” she continued in that same
calm tone. “A lot of people back then just assumed that any girl
who would pose for pictures like that also had to be a slut. Truth
was, I went virginal to my wedding bed.”
Jim was fascinated at the hidden glimpse into her life, yet
at the same time wondered why she was sharing it. Still he wasn’t
about to ask.
“I bet you’re pretty confused right now.” she grinned as she
sat down on the edge of the desk. “A woman walks in on you sitting
in her house, playing with your cock and instead of screaming in
outrage she starts telling you aspects of her personal history.”
As she answered part of his unasked question, Jim
remembered his now shriveled cock. He was unsure if he should
now make some attempt to cover it or just ignore it. Since
Christine hadn’t mentioned it, he finally figured that drawing
attention to it might not be a good thing to do.
“I just mentioned that because I want you to know that I
wasn’t a slut back then,” she went on. “Just as I’m in no way a slut
now.”
“Why would I think she was a slut now?” Jim thought.
After all, he was the one who had been jacking off in her house.
“Actually, my walking in on you has a positive side.” she said
in a quieter voice.
“I don’t understand.” Jim replied, finally finding his voice.
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, something
of a somewhat sensitive nature.” she answered, more than a trace
of hesitation in her voice. “If this isn’t the ice breaker to beat all,
I don’t know what is.”
Jim actually laughed, feeling a little relieved for the first
time since he’d heard her voice.
“There’s no easy way to ask this, so I guess straight out is
always best.”
The older woman paused for a moment as if searching for
words. Then she simply asked.
“Jim, would you like to sleep with me?”
“What?” Jim asked, the word practically dying stillborn on
his lips.
“Would you like to sleep with me, you know... sex? I’m sure
you’ve heard of it.”
“Me..?”
“Yes you. You have done this before, haven’t you? I mean
you’re not a ....”
“No, I’ve done it before.” Jim said, although he could count
the number of times he had on one hand.
“Good,” she beamed, a smile that transcended the years
between them.
“Why me?” Jim asked. “I can think of a dozen men who’d
jump at the chance to date you.”
“Not the answer I really expected.” she laughed. “I though
young men your age were perpetually horny.”
“We might be. But this young man ties to think with his big
head rather then his little one.”
“Not so little from what I saw.” Christine laughed. “But the
fact that you even hesitate is one of the reasons. But I guess you
do deserve more of an explanation.”
Christine moved off the desk and settled into a nearby
chair. She took a minute to think about what she wanted to say.
“You’re right about a lot of men wanting to date me,” she
began. I can’t tell you how many propositions I’ve had since the
funeral. How many men, some of them even married, want to help
console the grieving widow. The problem is that none of them
interest me. I’m not looking for a new husband. And if I’m going to
just have a casual lover, then I think I could do a lot better than
what choices I’ve been offered. As a result, I’ve gone to bed alone
ever since. It’s not something I’ve enjoyed.”
“That doesn’t explain why me? Not that I haven’t
fantasized about you more times than I should admit.” he replied.
“A few months before Ron died,” she went on. “We actually
talked about this. Not that we ever expected to do anything but
spend the rest of out lives together. It was just some play talk
late one night. About if we were going to pick a young lover, who
would it be. You were my choice. And I have to say, I gave it a lot
of thought. In many ways you remind me a lot of Ron. And you can
take that as a pretty big compliment.”
“Who did Dr. Burke pick?” Jim asked.
“Sharon Ryan.”
Jim pictured for a moment the head of the cheerleading
squad. He couldn’t say she reminded him of Mrs. Burke in any way,
but she did have half the guys in school trailing after her.
“Not a bad choice I guess,” Jim said, knowing he was lying.
He hadn’t been included in the half chasing her.
“So, my young friend, what do we do now?” she said,
directing the conversation back to her question. “Do you pack it
up, so to speak, or do we see about getting it all unpacked?”
Christine was still waiting for an answer when she looked
down and saw that Jim’s cock was once again rock hard and pointed
at the ceiling.
“Should I take that as a yes?” she grinned.
“I guess that’s one head heard from.” Jim laughed, trying to
make light of the fact he wasn’t sure what he should do. He was
sure none of his friends or the men down at his father’s store
would have any hesitation.
Christine could see that Jim was hesitant. If anything, that
just made him more attractive to her.
“Maybe I can help the other head decide as well.” she
quipped as she got out of her chair.
Jim didn’t have time to think about what she said before he
felt a sudden wetness engulf his cock. A wetness that was caused
by the touch of Christine’s mouth taking in his entire length.
“Oh shit!” Jim called out as he felt the touch of her tongue
run across his manhood.
“This is probably cheating,” Christine thought to herself as
she slid his cock in and out of her mouth. “Like any man is going to
say no once you have him by the cock.”
As it turned out, Jim didn’t have time to decide anything.
He’s been pretty close to climax before Christine had
unexpectedly returned and the hot embrace of her mouth
instantly brought him back to that point. It didn’t take a dozen
strokes before he exploded in her mouth.
“Mmmm” Christine murmured as she felt his salty whiteness
splash first against the back of her mouth, and then down her
throat.
“Oh God!” Jim gasped in unison as he felt the energy drain
out of him.
It was over in less than a minute. Jim just sat there,
enjoying the aftereffects of his climax. That had definitely been
better than jerking off to the picture he thought. Christine as
well was enjoying the taste and feel of their transient encounter.
It was only the second cock she’d ever had in her mouth.
“I guess that was a little unfair of me.” she said as she got
up and dropped back into the chair.
“No, not at all.” Jim replied, unsure exactly how you could
complain about a woman giving you, however brief, a blowjob.
“I’ll understand if you want to leave now.” Christine
continued in the same contrite tone. “Let’s just forget about going
through Ron’s things.”
“No, it’s okay.” Jim quickly answered. “In fact I was about
to say that I’d be really happy to.. I mean I’d like to...what I mean
is....”
“That you’d like to stay and fuck me.” Christine said,
finishing his sentence for him.
“Yes.” Jim nodded, just a little embarrassed.
“Well, I think that if you really want to do something like
that, then you really should be able to say the words.” Christine
said, sure now that no matter what she did he was hers.
“I’d like to fuck you!” he called out in a loud voice.
“That’s better,” Christine laughed. “And I’d like to fuck you
too.” she added with a smile. “So why don’t you clean yourself up a
little and then we’ll move upstairs where we’ll be more
comfortable.”
As Jim followed Christine up the wrought iron circular
staircase, he couldn’t help but get a really good look at the outline
of her ass. The thought that he was about to get an even more
revealing look at it was almost more than he could comprehend.
“Things like this don’t happen in real life.” he told himself
silently as they reached the second floor. Then he answered
himself that obviously they did, seeing that only a few minutes ago
his cock had been in Christine’s mouth.
Christine took his hand in hers and led him into the guest
bedroom. Her hand felt so soft and warm in his. She unexpectedly
turned around and kissed him. A soft and tender kiss, just enough
to show some of the desire within her.
“Why don’t you sit on the bed and make yourself
comfortable.” She whispered into his ear. “I’m just going to
change into something a little more appropriate.”
If he had any hesitation about what she meant by making
himself comfortable, the long slow passage of her outstretched
palm across his crotch quickly dispelled it. With another broad
smile, she turned and headed across the hall to the master
bedroom, leaving the scent of her perfume to warm him.
Jim quickly removed his clothes and laid them on a nearby
chair. He stretched out on the large bed, gently stroking a cock
that was already hard again. If he measured the passage of time
by the beats of his heart, it seemed like a long time had passed
since Christine went to change. In reality, the clock on the
dresser had only recorded five brief minutes.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?” Christine said
from the doorway.
“Fuck!” Jim exclaimed as he turned to look at her. ‘I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean ...”
“That’s okay,” the older woman smiled as she entered the
room. “I’ll just take that as a compliment. I was afraid this was
going a little overboard.”
For a few moments while he was waiting, Jim had wondered
what Christine was changing into. The possibility that it might be
her scout uniform brought back a half dozen youthful fantasies.
He’d heard that some women were into things like that.
What she had changed into, could in no way ever be mistaken
for anything you’d find in the Scout’s Uniform Catalogue. Jim had
seen a few outfits like the one Christine was wearing in Playboy
pictorials, but knew few women who could really get away wearing
anything like it. Much less anyone her age.
It was fire engine red, a color that looked incredibly erotic
against her light skin. A strapless lace bustier was the centerpiece
of the ensemble, highlighting a still impressive bust. His eyes
moved downward, from the matching g-string to the equally red
garters and stockings. Draped around her bare shoulders was a
short sheer robe that highlighted more than hid the skin beneath
it.
Pleased with Jim’s reaction, Christine moved to the side of
the bed. She slid the short robe from her shoulders and draped it
across Jim’s neck. With a gentle tug, she pulled back on it, drawing
Jim close to her. Replacing the robe with her hands, she guided his
face to between her lace-covered breasts.
The sweet perfume that he had gotten a brief sample of
before now filled his nostrils, mixed with her own natural scents.
Buried in the warmth of her skin, Jim could only describe his
situation as heaven.
Holding his head tight against her mounds, Christine gently
stroked the hair on the top and back of his head, planting a few
kisses as she went.
Jim’s hands had begun an exploration of their own. Starting
at the soft bare skin of her shoulders, down across the thin
bustier and finally coming to the almost non-existent g-string. Her
asscheeks were soft and warm as his fingers moved across them,
sliding under the small lace straps. To his surprise, the loose knot
holding it in place opened at his touch.
Moving his hand further down between her legs, it came to
rest on a tightly cropped and very saturated mound. The caress
sent a shiver through both of them.
“Oh yes,” Christine purred as she felt his fingers. “It’s
been so long since I’ve been touched there.”
Encouraged, Jim pressed a little harder and felt his fingers
enter her. Listening to the rise and fall of her breaths, he began
to slowly slide them in and out. The faster he moved, the faster
her breaths came.
They held each other tightly for a few more moments as the
rapid movement of Jim’s hand brought the expected result. It was
a small orgasm, the equivalent of Jim’s in the study below. It put
them on an equal footing, and paved the way for whatever was to
come.
After her little delight, Christine finally released Jim and
stretched one of her legs out across the bed. She reached out and
slowly undid the snaps of her garters. Slowly, knowing his eyes
were locked on her, she slid her lace topped stocking down her leg.
An action repeated on its twin. As they each fell to the floor, she
ran her long slender fingers up and down the now bare legs, right
up to her now equally exposed sex.
Jim watched silently, unwilling to break the mood with
words. Never is his young life had he felt so aroused. He was
afraid to move thinking that even the slightest brush of his cock
against the soft sheets would leave his seed scattered all over
them.
Now only the bustier remained and Christine’s nimble fingers
quickly undid the hooks and loops that held it together. Once they
fell free, she held the front of the garment in place with one hand,
watching the anticipation in her paramour’s eyes. A few breaths
later she released it and it followed the rest of her outfit to the
hard wood floor.
“Well..?” she asked as she held her hands under her pert
breasts. “I hope you’re not too disappointed? Not exactly like in
those old pictures, us it?”
She was right in that respect, Jim realized. She wasn’t the
young girl in the magazine. That woman was thirty years in the
past. Yet she was a very attractive woman in a very different way.
It occurred to him that there were literally thousands of
contemporaries as beautiful as the 21-year-old Christine Kimball,
but few as attractive as the 52-year-old Christine Burke. It
surprised him to realize that given the choice, he would pick the
older version. In reply to her question, he told her just that.
Christine’s response came in non-verbal form. She took
Jim’s hand and led him off the bed to a standing position next to it.
She kissed him softly, again and again. First on his lips and then on
his cheeks. Finally, inch-by-inch, she began to kiss and lick her way
down across his chest.
Again and again, she pressed her lips against his male
nipples, running her tongue around the pink circles around them.
Jim had never had a girl play with his nipples before and never
considered that it could be pleasurable for a guy as well. It was a
pleasant revelation.
She continued downward, dropping to her knees. Jim
assumed that he was about to get another blowjob, but was very
wrong. That would come later. For now, Christine was as eager to
explore his young body as he was hers.
In pure numbers, Jim had already had six times as many
lovers as his older partner. But while he had the variety, she’d had
the years of familiarity in which to explore the fullest range of
sexual acts.
She ran her fingernails across the smooth cheeks of his ass,
following their wake with her lips and tongue. Jim jumped as he
felt his cheeks spread apart and something wet and soft brush
against his most sensitive of openings. Again and again, her tongue
lashed up and within his ass, bringing a second new delight to the
young man.
As her tongue worked it’s magic, one slender hand reached
around his waist and took hold of his rock hard cock. Manicured
fingers gently moved up and down its length, keeping time with the
movement of her tongue. The dual action sent a double spark
through him. A practice hand kept him from the embarrassment he
worried about when she had stripped.
Her free hand continued to explore his form, running up and
down his legs, then up and across his back and chest. Soon no part
of his body had been left untouched by her soft caress.
“You are a beautiful young man.” Christine said as she
finished her exploration and sat down on the bed’s edge.
Unsure how to respond to a statement that he was beautiful,
Jim simply smiled. He realized that now it was his turn to explore
her body. Sitting down next to her, his hands cupped her
breasts as he kissed her gently on her lips. The softness of his
kiss changed as he felt his passion returned, along with Christine’s
tongue, which darted within his open mouth.
Following Christine’s example, he kissed his way down across
her neck and down to her breasts. With boyish enthusiasm, he
kissed and caressed the breasts he had so admired in that old
magazine. The sudden thought that he was only the second man
ever to do so added to his excitement. Remembering how nice
Christine’s mouth had felt on his nipples, he tried to spend a lot
more time and effort than he usually did on hers. From the look of
enjoyment on her face, he was sure she appreciated his efforts.
Moving downward, he came to the small patch of hair that
framed her still wet pussy. He could still smell the scent of her
recent orgasm, a delightful aroma that made his cock tingle. He
kissed the center of her mound, pushing his tongue between the
folds.
Christine responded by spreading her legs and reaching down
to part her lips with her hand. Jim had gone down on two other
girls, but neither had been a very rewarding experience. He was
sure this time it would be much different.
With the older woman’s fingers leading the way, he had no
trouble finding her clitoris and quickly went to work on it with both
his lips and tongue. Christine approved of his actions with a soft
gasp. Then she just laid back and closed her eyes, enjoying his
attentions. There was no way she could compare Jim’s attempts
with Ron’s intimate knowledge of her body, but it was a nice feeling
nevertheless.
Jim’s oral massage was just enough to push her rising lust
over the edge. She had to have him inside her. Gently easing his
attention away from her pussy, she rolled over onto her stomach.
She lifted her rear upward in invitation, spreading her legs as she
laid her head on the soft pillow.
“I want you inside of me.” she said.
Jim had never had sex doggy style, as his friends called it,
most girls his age considered it somewhat demeaning. Evidently,
Mrs. Burke didn’t think so.
Jim moved up behind her. He ran his hands across her ass,
then down between her legs to her mound. His fingers slipped
inside of her with no effort at all. He smiled as he took his cock,
which was harder than he could ever remember it ever being, and
rubbed the round tip up and down the length of her pussy, covering
it with her natural lubricants.
Stopping at the center of her pussy, he pressed forward and
inside of her. Christine was nowhere as tight as the girls he’d
dated, but the sensation of her sugar walls pressed against his
cock was one to die for.
“Oh yes!!!” she moaned as his hardness filled her. “Fuck me,
fuck me as hard as you can!”
Jim eased himself out a little, then pushed as deep as he
could. An even loader moan of encouragement came from
Christine’s lips. He felt himself filled with unimaginable
excitement.
Jim reached around and rubbed his fingers against
Christine's clit. He could see now why she enjoyed doggy style.
The position let a lover have total access to her sex with both his
cock and his hands. His frantic rubbing of the small nub added to
her enjoyment. Jim began to thrust deeper and deeper within her,
driving on with an ever-increasing frequency.
His free hand held tight against her cheeks, until the
frenzied motions of both their bodies grew such that he had to
take hold with two. Christine didn’t seem to mind his abandonment
of her clit. The rapid movement of his manhood in and out of her
more than made up for it.
The excitement of actually fucking the woman who’d inspired
so many of his boyhood fantasies was too much for Jim to contain
for long. Already he could feel the climax rising within him. He
grabbed her as hard as he could, slamming their sweaty bodies
together. An action repeated just two more times before his cock
started to exploded. At the last second, he pulled his cock out of
her, splattering his whiteness all over her back and ass.
“Oh fuck!” he called out as he enjoyed the orgasm.
Never had he felt such a draining climax, or one so
enjoyable. His body quaked for a few seconds, then collapsed on
top of hers. He distantly remembered her calling out his name as
he orgasmed, but was too lost in the experience to reply.
“Oh God, oh God that was so awesome.” he finally said as he
caught his breath.
“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Christine replied as she turned and
smiled back at him over her shoulder.
“Fun isn’t even the word.” he replied.
Christine reached down and ran a finger over her
come-covered ass. She brought it back to her mouth and licked it
clean.
“How bout yummy then?” she asked.
They both laughed.
“I think maybe I should jump in the shower and wash this all
off.” she said as she climbed out from under him and off the bed.”
“Oh okay.” he replied as he rolled back to give her room.
There was a little disappointment in his voice as he realized that
their little adventure was already over.
He watched with admiration as her naked body swayed with
each step, thinking how he would never forget this afternoon to
the day he died.
Christine stopped at the door and turned back to him.
“Want to wash my back, or anything else that needs washing?” she
smiled.
In a flash, a grinning Jim jumped off the bed and practically
ran after her. The adventure was far from over.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Honey, is this box part of the stuff for the troop
fund-raiser?” the short haired thirty one year old blonde asked as
she dropped a box onto the wooden table on the lawn.
In response, the thirty one year old Scoutmaster turned
from the box he had already checked and starting shifting in the
one his wife had just carried out.
“Yeah, I guess most of this stuff we could get rid of.” he
said somewhat reluctantly.
“I would think so,” his wife smiled. “You probably haven’t
looked at any of those magazines in years.”
“Umm, yeah,” he said as he pulled one magazine from the
bottom of the box. “You can sell them all, except this one.” he
added as he put the plastic covered periodical under his arm.”
“What’s so special about that one?” Debra asked.
“Well...” Jim hesitated.
“Let me see.” she laughed as she pulled the book from under
his arm.
“Why James Ryan McGuire,” she said in a fake shocked
voice. “A nudie book at your age? You should be ashamed of
yourself.”
“Well its a little more than that.” he smiled as he put his
hand out for its return.
“It’s pretty old,” Debra remarked as she handed it back to
him. “What is it, some kind of collectors item?”
“A collector’s item,” James mused out loud. “I guess you
could say that. Definitely a collector’s item.” he repeated with
the broadest of smiles.
“Well just make sure that Jimmy Jr. doesn’t find it.” she
said as her attention shifted to another box. “He sees enough on
TV these days without giving him any more ideas.”
Debra’s words fell on deaf ears as James was no longer
paying attention. Instead he was looking into years past and
remembering the real Collector’s Item. Wherever she was these
days, he hoped she was as happy as she had made him that long
magical summer.
END
(c) Ann Douglas 1999
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