Message-ID: <43398asstr$1058249403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <bill@gj.mine.nu> From: genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org X-Original-Message-ID: <20030714233350.GA4741@sarahbellum.offthebeatenpath.org> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Disposition: inline User-Agent: Mutt/1.4i X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2003 19:33:50 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} In the Kitchen, With Dinah (MMF Wife Oral) {GenericJoe} Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2003 02:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/43398> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: hecate, gill-bates In the Kitchen, With Dinah (MF wife oral) In which Dinah blows my horn, and I no longer have to strum on the old banjo. - o - I was girl-watching in the park when I first saw Dinah. I still remember the way her breasts -- bound tightly in a sports bra -- bounced in unison as she jogged. The park's track was my main focus, where I'd spent several nights in my cheap folding chair, pretending to read. The park itself was one of the nicest ones in Greensboro. It was also right next to my apartment. Half of it was shaded walkways through unusual, rare, and native trees. The other half was a large open area with parking and a softball field on the side furthest from my complex. A flat clay jogging track ran around the field. That track was my real attraction to the park, or rather the women jogging on it. I'd been doing this since I'd moved in, and I'd seen a lot of really hot women, but I hadn't talked to any of them. I'd had girlfriend before, and I was no virgin, but I wasn't dating anyone, and that wasn't going to change. You have to talk to women in order to -- eventually -- get to the step of sleeping with them. I was more interested in keeping them from noticing I was watching than ever trying to talk to anyone. Let's face it, I'm a geek. I do well with computers, they always react the same exact way to the same exact stimulus. Do that with a woman, and they'll slap you one time, and do something else the next. I never figured it out. Some of the joggers may have liked that I watched, but I would never know. Or, I wouldn't have, if something different hadn't happened. That night, one of the joggers was doubly impressive. She was tall -- for a woman, not quite six feet. Her long, thin legs stretched as she ran, eating up distance with quick easy strides. Her breasts were full and round and moved up and down enticingly. There was something mesmerizing about them as I watched her jog on by. She was worth the after-stare as well, her tight ass shifting side to side as she ran. I prided myself that I was able to hide my glances from the women I stared at. They were focused on their jogging, I thought, and I was being subtle. I just watched them over the edge of a book, as they ran by in all their feminine glory. Some I'd follow more openly after they passed. Dinah was one of those. On her second lap, she caught my eye, and I blushed. She smiled a wicked smile, and just kept on running. I felt my face warm up as I realized how un-subtle I was being. Still, though, I couldn't help but stare. I watched her jogging shorts slowly creep up her ass showing more and more skin. I was so embarrassed that she had noticed me that I gathered up my chair and books, and started walking back to my apartment. As I was climbing the path up to the street, I heard footsteps approaching behind me. If I wanted to avoid her, I hadn't gone fast enough. "Hey!" I heard, "You're the new guy in 120-A, right?" I turned, and faced the woman speaking -- the same one who had smiled. I blushed again remembering my reaction. "Uh, yeah," I blushed. "I, uh, moved in a few weeks ago." She nodded. "Yeah, we watched, we're right across the foyer in B." Somehow I had the presence of mind to check her hands and noticed her wedding ring. I wondered why she was talking with someone as rude as I was, but still managed to smile in a friendly way. "G-Great," I stammered. "They're, uh, nice apartments." She put out her hand. "I'm Dinah," she said. "Tom," I said, shaking her hand. "Dinah, right?" I repeated, memorizing her name. "Yeah, my mom had a fascination with children's songs. I have a sister named Clementine." We laughed together as we walked back to our apartment building. I slowly began to relax as she talked to me in a friendly way. Maybe this was just her being a neighbor, right? I'd never really had neighbors that weren't college students. She stopped in the entranceway, and turned to me. "Hey, are you busy tomorrow night? Want to come over to dinner?" "Um.." I said, unsure of what to say. Neighborly? I wondered. "Or," she countered, "you could call the pizza delivery guy for the, what, sixth time this week?" "Busted," I said, laughing. "Hey, you're our neighbor, and could probably use a home-cooked meal. And I'm a good cook. You could ask my husband, Rick, that, but he's working late tonight. And tomorrow you'll know for sure. You are coming, right?" "Sure," I said. "Sounds great." I said. I admit it, I was moonstruck by her. There was no way I'd turn her down. I knew she was completely unapproachable, not that I would have anyway, but I wanted to be with her as much as I could. I had an excuse to see her again, and that was more action than I'd had in months. And, admittedly, I had gotten tired of pizza. She smiled that dazzling smile at me, causing me to shift nervously from side to side. "See you around six, then," she said, as she disappeared into her apartment. I could have sworn I saw her give her ass a little extra swing as she did it, too. I retreated into my apartment, locking the door behind me. I shed my clothes, heading for the bedroom. I collapsed on the bed, my hand wrapping around my rigid erection. It wasn't long before I came, shooting all over my belly. The only thoughts on my mind were of long slender legs, and huge bouncing breasts, and a woman named Dinah. - o - The next day, I got home from work early, and spent the time manically straightening my apartment. It's amazing how big an empty apartment is. When I first looked at my apartment, it felt huge. Now with my meager amount of furniture, it just felt empty. And it seemed like dust got into every part and corner. I swept, dusted, and swept again. I cleaned the toilet and bathroom sink. I rounded up all the dirty dishes and threw away the tall stack of pizza boxes collecting in the kitchen I ran the dishwasher and threw all my dirty clothes in a hamper. Full of hope, I made the bed. I resisted the urge to masturbate, and put a brand new three-pack of condoms on the nightstand next to my bed. I fluffed the pillows, and deciding that I was going overboard, I stopped cleaning the apartment. I flopped into my recliner and twitchily surfed through the cable channels. The apartment was as good as it was going to get. Sure, it was empty, and it was bigger than one person needed -- I'd made the extra bedroom an office for me. I still wasn't "moved in", and might never be -- there was no way I'd fill this space up. But the place was about a mile from my new, first, real job. It was next to the Arboretum, and protected from -- but near to -- a major street. It wasn't expensive, and well, Dinah lived across the entryway. Just as I thought about her, there came a knock on my door. I got up, and tried not to hurry to the door. Instead of Dinah, as I had expected, was a short man only about five feet tall. I could clearly see his bald spot. He wore tan slacks, and a white shirt with a conservative tie. A blue sports coat hung over one arm "Hi!" he said, smiling. "I'm Rick, Dinah's husband." He stuck his free arm out to shake my hand "Oh, right" I said, shaking his hand in return. He had a firm, but not overpowering grip. "Pleased to meet you." I tried to be friendly, despite my discomfort that he wasn't his wife. "Likewise," he said. He glanced around me into my apartment, smiling wryly. "Ready for dinner?" "I sure am," I said. "I've been eating too much pizza and fast food. It's just too hard to cook for one." "I know what you mean," he said. "It was the same for me. Dinah, though, really cooks. And quite well, I might add. One of her many wonderful traits." He winked at me. "You're in for a treat tonight." "I'm sure I am," I said, feeling awkward. "Yes," he said. "I consider myself lucky to have found and convinced her to marry me. She's quite a woman." I just nodded at that. You don't normally tell someone that you think their wife is hot. Of course, I didn't know it yet, but this wasn't anything like normality. While I locked my door, he unlocked theirs. "Come on in," he said, gesturing for me to step inside. I quickly realized that Rick and Dinah's apartment was laid out exactly like mine, only mirrored. Nevertheless, it was nothing like mine. They had a nice couch and loveseat combination, carefully positioned to split the den and dining room apart. Tasteful decorations hung on the walls, paintings which enhanced the room decor, and a small cabinet filled with tea cups. The dining room table was pleasantly set. Plates with some sort of flower design lay on color co-coordinated placemats. A hutch sat in the unused corner, displaying a silver platter and china dishes. Where my apartment felt barren, theirs felt lived in. I got the sense of a place where people had settled in. My apartment was a temporary stop, but Rick and Dinah had made this their home. I looked down the hallway (with a well-framed "Home Sweet Home" embroidery project on the wall). I knew where the bathroom was, and could see one of the bedroom doors. Was that where they -- Dinah -- slept, I asked myself. I wondered if I would ever find out. It made me feel homesick, lonely, and warmly welcomed all at once. Realizing that I was standing there gawking, I complimented Rick on their apartment. "Well, It's the same as yours, only backwards" Rick said with a grin in his voice. I laughed at that -- what he said was too true. Dinah stepped out of the kitchen, drawing our attention. She was dressed simply, in a blouse and long skirt, and matching flats. A frilly apron completed the outfit. "Tom! You're here. I'm glad you could make it." "I'm glad to be here," I said, smiling. I felt myself stir, just from looking at her. She wasn't dressed to excite me, but she did anyway. Damn, I thought, she is beautiful! "I need your help," she said. "Anything," I said, too quickly. Rick chuckled a bit, and settled down on the loveseat. "Great," Dinah said, and disappeared back in the kitchen. "I need the big pan," Dinah said when I met her in the kitchen. "What?" I asked. She stepped close to me, I could smell her perfume -- or maybe it was her natural scent. It was pleasant, and struck a chord with me. I shook my head for a moment to clear it. She was married, and her husband sat in the other room. What did I think was going to happen anyway? "Up there," she said, putting a hand on my chest, and looking up. I could feel myself react as she touched me. Her hand was hot against my chest. My cheeks burned. "There," she said, bringing me back to myself. "The big pan, lift it down for me?" "Sure," I said. I lifted up on my toes to get it. As I reached up, her hand slid down my torso, passing over my chest, and settling down just above the top my pants. I grabbed the pan, and carefully brought it down. Her hand, however, stayed where it was. "Thanks," she said. "I don't know why we keep that there. I have to use a chair, and Rick, well Rick can't reach it at all." She looked me in the eyes then, and her hand moved down, casually brushing the bulge in my pants. "There are a lot of things he can't do for me." I felt hot all over, and couldn't look her in the eyes. "He's in the other room," I said. There was no denying my feelings: I was attracted to her. If she wanted to have sex with me, I was there, and damn the consequences. It had been months since Jenny dumped me, and there hadn't been anyone at all, unless you count Mr. Hand, and that was getting really old. Maybe if she had been less beautiful, or if she was more subtle, I could have sat at dinner quiet in my own attraction, and chatted with them. And my nighttime fantasies would have had a new, regular player. But she was coming on to me, she was beautiful and yet, her husband was in the other room. I became focused on him: not as a reason to give up, but as an obstacle to overcome. I could tell by her eyes, that she knew exactly how I felt. "You are interested," she said. It wasn't a question. I nodded. She licked her lips and smiled. "Thanks for the pan." She took it from me, and placed it on the counter with one hand, the other hovering over my crotch. She squeezed my cock through my pants. "Go talk to him and don't worry." I stood there for a second, confused, unwilling or unable to do anything other than what she said. So I sat down on their couch, and talked to her husband. "Did you get her what she wanted?" Rick asked. "Yes," I said. "I think so..." It was a disconcerting question. Did he know? I wondered. Was I that transparent, or obvious? Was I still flushed, could he see the tent in my pants? And anyway, what did she want? I shifted uncomfortable on the couch as he changed topics to the mundane. I told him about my job at the computer company I had interned with. He told me about his travels as a salesman for a textile firm. My hardon receded, and I relaxed as we both avoided the subject of Dinah. As we talked, I wondered what these two were doing here, in these apartments. I was here because it was inexpensive, and easily affordable on my salary. Rick and Dinah obviously had plenty of money for nice furniture, stereo, computer. Yet they still lived here. It was puzzling, but I didn't think too hard, afraid that for some reason, they'd realize it and my good luck would move away. Rick was telling a complicated -- but interesting -- story about one of his trips to Juarez, when Dinah announced that dinner is ready. "OK guys, I hope you are hungry, because dinner is served!" Rick stopped his story short. "Let's go eat Tom, nobody cooks like Dinah." My stomach growled, and I chuckled, "Well, obviously I'm interested." Rick sat down at the head of the table, and Dinah motioned for me to sit opposite him. She sat between us on my left. As soon as we sat down, I felt Dinah's hand sliding into my lap, playing with my thigh and rigid cock. I looked across at Rick, who smiled at me, and picked up his story right where he'd left off. I had to wonder if he was oblivious -- I couldn't have been very coherent. The food was excellent, and Rick's stories were funny. That's about all I remember. Except for Dinah's hand in my lap, touching me, keeping me on edge. When he finished eating, Rick threw his napkin into his plate, and turned to his wife. "That was a truly wonderful meal, Dinah. Wasn't it Tom?" "Yes, yes it was," I said, as I felt Dinah's foot slide up my leg. "There is only one thing bad about that meal." Oh, oh, I thought, here it comes. "And what was that, hon?" Dinah asked. I felt the a stone in the pit of my stomach. "That it will be my last one for a week. Right before Tom came over, I got a call on my cell. Looks like they are sending me to Detroit tomorrow." "Fuck no, Rick. You promised..." "I know, I know. I can't help it, this time. I really am sorry." "I guess that will have to do." She sighed, and leaned towards him. I could see her right hand go to his knee. How could he have avoided seeing what she was doing to me? "You're just going to leave me here, all alone?" He sighed. "Well, you don't have to be alone." He nodded in my direction. "We've got a new neighbor that doesn't seem to have much of a social life. He could probably use the company himself." "Oh, there's an idea." She turned to me. "Sound good to you?" "Um, I...I don't.." I wanted to say yes, but it was so strange and awkward. What was going on here? "Don't answer now," Dinah said. "Wait until after dessert. Rick, help me clean off this table. No, Tom, you just stay right there, you're the guest. You want a beer?" "S-sure." I said. I watched them clear off the table, working well together, as only a couple could. I felt strange, hopeful, and like a third leg, all at the same time. I sipped on the beer, not wanting to drink too much, even though I'd eaten a hearty meal. I wanted my wits about me. When they were about done, Dinah turned to Rick and said, "Hon, why don't you take out the garbage while I talk to Tom." He smiled and grabbed a couple of garbage bags and walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Dinah stood in the kitchen, and looked at me. "This probably seems strange to you." "Something is strange, I know that." "Is it so hard to understand? My husband travels all the time, and you live right next door, and I'm attracted to you. Aren't you attracted to me?" "But he's your husband. You're married." "Come here," she said, motioning with her hand. I walked over to where she was standing. She turned to me, stepping close. I looked down at her. "You like these?" she asked, drawing her hands under her breasts and lifting them up. I stared. I couldn't say anything. "How could you say, really, right? You've never seen them. Would you like to?" Nervously, I glanced out the back door. I saw the dumpster, but not Rick. Where had he gone? "Y-yes?" I responded. She smiled. "I thought that would be your answer." She reached behind her neck and lifted the apron over her head. It folded at her waist, where it was tied off. She pulled her shirt out from inside her skirt, removing her shirt and bra together. She sighed happily when she did it. Dropping her shirt and bra, she brought her arms under her breasts, raising them for me to see. "Now that's better, right?" I looked down at her breasts, beautiful and huge with hard, eraser-sized nipples. My cock twitched, pressing tightly against my pants. "You like?" she asked, smiling up at me. "Yes," I whispered. "They like you too, see how crinkly they are." She rubbed them with her hands, to show me. I felt my voice get caught in the back of my throat. "Yes," I choked out. I looked again through the door, looking for Rick, I didn't see him. "Don't worry about him," she said. "He won't be back right away." "I don't understand. Why are you cheating on him?" She laughed. "Cheating is going against the rules, right?" I nodded. "What if it wasn't against the rules, Tom? What if it was completely by the book, my standing in here with my new, handsome neighbor, shoving my breasts at him, hoping that he'll touch them, or shove his cock against them. That maybe my husband will show up and watch, so I can give him a thrill his last night in town. What if that were true, what would you say?" "I don't know." "If I were you, I'd say to myself, 'Who cares, what I really want is to get my hard cock between those hot tits.' That sounds good, right? You'd like that?" I blushed. "Yeah." She took my hands in hers, and brought them up to her breasts, holding them against her nipples. I felt her softness against my hands, her hard nipples pressing against my palms. She looked at me and earnestly said "It's not cheating, Tom, if it's not against the rules." Her tits were smooth and silky, and felt good in my hands. I experimentally squeezed them, and she let out a soft sigh. I ran my thumbs over her nipples and she sighed again. Rick still wasn't anywhere to be seen. "God yes, Tom. Do that some more. You, see, I'm a slut. I need to be fucked, and fucked a lot. Rick's the same way, which is why his first wife divorced him." "Because he liked to fuck?" "And because he had women all over the country. But I don't care, because we have an agreement. He fucks when he's traveling, and I fuck whenever I want. Sometimes he watches, most times he doesn't. It was that or I'd turn him down, and marry someone who'd let me do it." "Wow," I said. "Why?" "Why? I told you that already, silly boy." She grabbed my cock through my pants, and gave it a squeeze. "I'm a slut." She smiled when she said it. "And I want your cock." I groaned. I still didn't understand. "Why him, why did he agree?" "Does it matter right now, Tom? Don't you want to free your cock, and feel it against my breasts? I'll answer your question after we fuck, Tom, if you still need to know." Some part of me thrilled at that: we were going to fuck. She knelt down in front of me then, and unbuckled my belt, and pulled my pants down to my knees. Then she carefully pulled my briefs over my cock, as it sprang up. "Oh, Tom, you've got a nice one." Her tongue slid over the top, and I gasped at the feeling of it. Then her lips passed over my cock. The next thing I knew, I was encased in her mouth, my cock down her throat, surrounded by her wet warmth, and caressed by her tongue. I glanced outside then, and saw Rick coming back. My back stiffened. "Rick's on his way back," I said. Instead of stopping, Dinah, moaned around my cock, and I felt a shiver run up my spine. Rick opened the back door quietly, and smiled at me. He gave me a thumbs up. Then Dinah began moving back and forth on my cock, and I was lost in the feeling. Rick stepped up behind Dinah. He grabbed her hair, and wrapped it around his cock, and began stroking. The thought that this was weird wandered through my mind, but was quickly obliterated by Dinah's oral talents. There was no doubt in my mind that Dinah knew how to suck a cock. I could feel myself building to orgasm. "I'm going to come," I said. She slipped off of me and wrapped her hands around my cock. "Mmmm, good" she said. "I want your come on my breasts. I've wanted it since I saw you staring at them while I was jogging." She lifted up on her knees, and I felt her jacking my cock off against her soft breasts. I looked down and watched her, becoming more and more aroused. Rick groaned, then, and I looked up as he orgasmed all over her back and in her hair. Dinah moaned as she felt his cum all over her. "You too, Tom," she urged me on. "Make me the slut I am. Come on me. I want to be covered in cum. Come on me, Tom." I was already close and didn't need much urging. She pressed the tip of my cock between her breasts, and I couldn't hold on any longer. My cum splattered over and between her breasts. "Oh, yessss," Dinah said, as she rubbed my cum over her skin. Shakily, she stood up. Dinah looked at me. "Thank you, Tom." "Oh, no, thank you!" I said, still riding the high from my orgasm. She stood on tiptoe, and whispered in my ear. "Normally, I'd fuck your brains out right now," she said. "In fact, that was my plan for tonight. But I didn't know Rick was traveling tomorrow. So, well, we have our rules and I'm going to go fuck his brains out." I must have looked pretty upset, then, because she said, "Don't worry, Tom. You'll get yours... all next week." She winked at me, and I felt myself blushing again. Rick chuckled. I got dressed, wondering what to think of it all. Were they just using me for kicks? Probably, but.. well, she did say I'd get mine. In the afterglow of orgasm, I wasn't sure I cared. I was more disappointed that I had to go home than disturbed by what happened. They quickly slipped into their bedroom, and I went back over to my place, and plopped in the comfy chair, surfing cable. I was still in a bit of shock and trying to figure out if what had just happened was good or bad. One thing was sure, I still wanted to fuck Dinah, and I wasn't going to do anything to screw that up. Any other analysis could wait until that happened. - o - A few hours later, as I was getting ready to go to bed, a knock came on my door. I walked over, and opened it up. Dinah was standing there, naked as the day she was born. I could see where my cum had dried on her breasts. "I brought over some leftovers," she said. "I thought you might like some seconds." I smiled, and took them from her, and put them in my empty fridge. "Thanks," I said. "I thought you could eat it for lunch next week. After all, you're eating home cooking all next week." "Yeah?" "Yeah." She smiled and turned back and forth. I watched her breasts jiggle as she did. "So. You still want seconds...even if they are a bit sloppy?" "Oh, yeah," I said. She turned to face my hallway. "Which one is the bedroom?" I led her there, and turned down my -- thankfully -- made bed. It was going to be a good week. Staring into her eyes, I thought it might be even longer than that. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm looking for more song titles to write stories around (involving Dinah and Rick, Tom and eventually, Clementine). I've got plans for "My Darling, Clementine", but I don't feel like it's the next story. What old-time song title would you like to see a story written about? What kind of story would you like written? Use the form below to let me know! GenericJoe "In the Kitchen, With Dina" archived at <http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/genericjoe/www/dinah.html> (C) 2003 GenericJoe <genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org> -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+