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From: "CS" <creampiestories@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} " Creampie Helper" (MF) by Creampie Eater
Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2001 15:10:02 -0500
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DISCLAIMER:

This is a story about sex between consenting adults. If you are not an 
adult, you cannot consent, even to read this story. Therefore, read 
something else. Note also that my stories may portray sexual acts that 
are not necessarily safe. Since you are an adult reading this, you 
know it. Even so, caveat lector.

NOTES:

This is a story I posted at my club a while ago, but forgot to post
onto ASSM.  Sorry!

Check out my archive at:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/creampie/www

You should also check out my *FREE* Yahoo club, where we discuss our 
love of creampies and post stories:

http://clubs.yahoo.com/clubs/CreampieStories 

As always, comments can be sent the old-fashioned way to 
CreampieStories@yahoo.com. I adore comments, good and bad, but rarely 
receive them. Why not send comments today to the authors you read on 
ASS and ASSM, including me?

Note too that this story, like all my stories, is Copyright (C) 2001 by 
Creampie Eater.  All Rights Reserved. No commercial posting is 
allowed. Please drop me a note asking permission to post on your 
personal web site. No modification whatsoever is allowed.

Creampie Helper
---------------

My phone buzzed during my meeting.  I had set it to vibrate to not 
disturb the proceedings, and I didn't look at it until the meeting was 
concluded because we were almost done.  The missed call was from my 
wife, and I called her before packing up.

"What's up?" I asked.

"What're you doing?" Perra inanely asked.  She knew I was in meetings 
today.

"I'm about to pack up and head home," I told her.

"Could I convince you to stop by Caren and Mitch's on the way?" she 
inquired.

"On the way?" I responded, incredulous.  "They're at least an hour 
there and an hour and a half back.  I'll miss my plane!"

"Doesn't Southwest fl y every half-hour?" she pointed out.

"Yeah, but..."

"She needs help moving some things I told her I'd ask if you could 
help.  If you don't want to help..." Perra's voice trailed off, leading 
me to the conclusion that if I didn't help I'd be an asshole.

"All I wanted to do was get home to you," I told her.  "I thought I 
could get home a little early, get on your good side, and maybe we 
could have a little romance tonight."  We hadn't had sex in almost 
three weeks, and I was one horny individual.

"I don't think so," she put me off sounding somewhat pleased.  "We're 
having five boys over for a sleepover." 

I groaned.  There'd be no chance of sex tonight.  "Well, if you put it 
that way, call Caren and tell her I'm on my way."

My forecast to get to their house was not too far off.  I was a little 
later, because I stopped to get some beer.  They lived in a dry 
community, so picking up something to drink was always appreciated.  I 
pulled up to their 10,000 square foot house, noting that only the 
Jaguar was in the drive.  Ringing the doorbell, I was surprised to 
have it answered by Caren; the Jaguar was Mitch's car and the 
Expedition was hers.  He had her car.

"Hi!" I said brightly.  As always when I saw her, I took in every 
detail in a glance and my heart quickened.  Caren looked like she was 
working around the house, in a t-shirt emblazoned with a blood donor 
thank you logo, khaki shorts, and bare feet.  She wore no make-up that 
I could see, and her chin-length bob was mussed.  She was nothing 
special to look at, but her sexuality was intoxicating and I was madly 
in lust with her.  I regretted that they had moved to Dallas.

"Oh, you're so nice," she smiled, taking the beer from me and leading 
me to the kitchen.  I noted that they were almost done with the house.  
They had moved a month ago, and I had been here a week after that with 
Perra and the kids.

"Place looks nice Caren," I commented.  I looked around, appreciating 
the rich details Caren had added.  Accessories were subtly placed to 
accent the rooms' themes.  Her taste wasn't mine, but I could 
appreciate it.

"Thank you!" she smiled at me.  God, she was fetching.

"Where's Mitch and the boys?" I asked.

"He took them to baseball, and then to soccer," she said.  "Thursdays 
are killers."

"He came home early to take the kids off your hands?" I asked.  Mitch 
was a busy executive, and I didn't visualize him playing a soccer dad.

"Actually, he was gone for two weeks to Europe and Asia, and got back 
yesterday.  He wanted to stay home and spend time with me and the kids 
today."

"That's awfully nice," I smiled at her.  I could envision him pounding 
away at her pussy in a non-stop fuckfest while the kids were at 
school.  Caren loved sex.

"Yeah, but it could have been better," she said ruefully.  She was 
opening a couple colder beers from their special fridge kept extra 
cold.  She handed one to me.  "He slept all day because of jet lag and 
overall exhaustion.  He didn't wake up until the kids got home."

"Wow, that's a lot of sleep."  I had never in my life slept that much.  
Of course, I hadn't spent two weeks in stressful meetings across so 
many timezones.

"And I had big plans, starting with a rose-petal bath," she pouted.  I 
imagined how horny she had been, and then how frustrated she was now.  
Caren has a very sexual attitude anyways, and without her man as an 
outlet it often bubbled over in bawdy comments.

I would have to be very careful to control my lust for her.  I too was 
very sexual, but I had no outlet since my wife was a frigid bitch.  
She and I always had a sexual tension going, and the lack of recent 
sex was going to escalate it.  I recalled two Christmas parties ago, 
when we both got too drunk and let our guard down.  It only got as far 
as kissing in a bathroom, but I remembered the emotion still.

"What did you want help with?" I asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Well, I need to move the stuff in our master bath so that the painter 
can finish the mural.  Then I need to move the patio furniture so that 
the gardener can work there."  She had a few extra items, but I was 
puzzled.  Even though the things were massively heavy (she didn't buy 
light cheap stuff; things that normal people bought to look like stone 
were actual stone here), I was sure the painter would have moved the 
stuff, and the gardener's could have moved the things as well.  Hell, 
even Mitch could have helped her.  I concluded that she wanted me here 
for some reason, and Mitch's absence was telling.

"Let's get started," I said.  We started with the game room, moving 
the TV from one side of the cable outlet to the other.  By the time we 
were done (Caren is a perfectionist), my beer was gone and so was 
hers.  We had to suffer dry through moving the bunk beds in the kid's 
rooms before we rewarded ourselves with another cold one.

Meanwhile we had talked a lot about little things, and she or I always 
had an off-color comment.  I found myself desiring her greatly, and 
feeling the urge to tell her.  The beer didn't help a bit.  We both 
guzzled a beer and took a third before going out to the patio.

We were lifting one of the authentic marble benches when I blurted 
out, "You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now."  Oh 
shit!  I wanted to retrieve those words as soon as I said them.  I 
felt like I'd fucked up a great friendship.

She stopped in place, and looked at me with eyes blazing.  "You have 
no idea how much I want you to kiss me," she said.  Wow!

But the odd thing is that we just continued moving heavy things, and 
avoiding actually kissing.  We had expressed our desires, but we were 
unwilling to act on them.  We went back into the kitchen, now hot from 
the Dallas atmosphere, and got a fourth beer.

"So why don't we kiss?" I asked, savoring the nearly frozen liquid.  
"We've kissed before."

"I think it's because we like each other and are afraid we'll screw up 
our marriages.  It wouldn't be as casual as we want," she said.  "Or 
maybe we are both chicken." She was smiling.

I thought about that.  She was probably right on both counts.  But as 
we went into the bath to move the last things, the tension was 
overwhelming.

Uncharacteristically, I acted.  She went to one side of the drying 
rack to grab it, expecting me to go to the other.  Instead, I followed 
her and held her surprised face between my hands, pulling her plush 
lips to mine.  There was nothing tender about the kiss after the first 
three seconds.  An hour of tension-- years really--exploded into a 
passionate kiss.

Caren is very Type A.  As a consequence, we each fought with our 
tongues for control, kissing very deeply.  We were both moaning.

"Fuck me," she panted.

I obliged.  I backed her up to the marble vanity, and fumbled with my 
pants while she fumbled with her shorts.  Both dropped to the floor 
and in I pressed immediately into her.

I had romantic fantasies about her.  Tumbling around on a bed, 
caressing her supple naked flesh.  Kissing tenderly while mumbling 
words of love.

In reality, I pumped her hard while she urged me to do it harder.   In 
reality, she put her legs around me and forced me as deep into her as 
I could get.  There was some kissing, but it was mostly nasty talk and 
pants.  It was fierce and fervent, and short.

I warned after three minutes that I was about to cum.  "Cum in me, cum 
in me!" she commanded.  Moments later, I did.  I whined with need 
fulfilled as I shot my load into her.

As quickly as it started, it was over.  We were both panting, and I 
felt embarrassed to have shot so quickly.  But more than that, I 
wanted to get her off.  And taste her.  I kissed her before extracting 
my limp dick, and sinking to my knees.

"What are you doing?" she said, turned on and worried, both.

"I need to clean up my mess," I smiled.  "And I have unfinished 
business here."  I ignored her gasp, concentrating on my first view of 
her pussy.  As I expected, it was nicely trimmed.  Her hole was open 
between two butterfly wings, and I used my fingers to open her up and 
gave a long slow lick.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed.  "Are you eating your cum?"

"I'm cleaning you up," I smiled at her, beginning to suck her 
clitoris.  "Can't let Mitch find my cum in you tonight."

She let that comment ride, and soon was pressing her leaking creampie 
into my face.  I fingered her while licking her clit, then smeared the 
goo over her bud to kiss away.  I often dropped my mouth to her hole, 
sucking and tonguing the mixture we made together.

Caren began to whimper, closing in on a big orgasm.  I just kept doing 
what I was doing, perhaps a bit stronger and in a steady rhythm.  She 
came hard, and I used my thumb against her clit as I captured the 
ejected cream in my mouth.  Standing, I pressed my lips to her gasping 
mouth, shoving the creampie into her mouth.

She moaned softly, her orgasm extended a little as I rubbed her 
gently.  She shook occasionally as we shared the expelled ejaculate.  
She put her arms around my neck, and we moved into a conventional 
kiss.  Now the passion was over, and the kisses were romantic and 
soft.

"I can't believe you did that," she smiled.

"I like doing it," I told her.

"I could have douched, you know."

"I know, but I wanted to make you cum."

"You did, you sure did," she smiled.  We kissed more.  We were lovers 
now.  "Hey, Mitch is saying we'll fly down for your Christmas party 
this year," she said, smiling brightly.

"Really?  That's very cool."  I looked at my watch.  "Caren, I hate to 
dump a load and dash, but I need to catch a plane."

"That's OK.  Call me next time you are in town."

I pulled up my shorts, and she pulled up hers.  We walked hand in hand 
to the front door, and I looked quickly outside before kissing her 
goodbye.  "Come to the party and I'll put mistletoe in your panties."  
She laughed.   "Say hi to Mitch for me, and sorry I missed him."

"Oh, he doesn't know you're here," she said.

That gave me something to think about on the way home.  I had been set 
up, and I was sure glad I was.

-----------

Comments appreciated. :)



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