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From: Incest Man <familyincestfamilyincest@yahoo.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.hetero,alt.sex.stories.d
Subject: story: "The Adventures of Me and Martha Jane" (bf mF mF+) Part 6C
Date: Sat, 12 Aug 2006 06:11:55 -0700
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===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/mathaj.html
The Adventures of Me and Martha Jane
Part 6C
That night we walked through light drizzle all the way to
the Warner's on Main Street and saw "The High and the
Mighty." The minute the film was over, I knew I'd go back
to see it again and again.
"Oh, my," Martha Jane said as we rose from our seats to
leave. "That was pretty schmaltzy, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it was. Schmaltzy. That's what makes a great
movie."
"You just say that because John Wayne was in it and he
saved the airplane."
"But that's what schmaltz is," I insisted.
We had been sitting near the screen. As we turned to go
out, we were confronted with a thick crowd moving at a
snail's pace.
"It'll take forever to get out of here, Speedy."
"Don't worry. Follow me." I led her on a detour down one
of the side aisles where I pushed down the handle on a
black-painted door that was difficult to see. It opened
into an empty alley that led to the main street.
She said, "Hey, I'm glad I decided to bring you with me."
Outside, the drizzle had grown into light rain. I walked
out into it. "It's like Gene Kelly in "Singin' in the
Rain", I said, holding out my arms.
"You won't start tap dancing, will you? Speedy, get under
the umbrella with me. You'll get soaked."
I walked ahead of her. "But I want to. It's drama, it's
Hollywood. It's schmaltz."
"It's insanity."
I stayed ahead of her, getting wetter by the minute. Now
and then I'd look back at her, a few yards behind me under
her umbrella. "Come on, Scarlett! Where's your sense of
adventure?"
"It's right here under my umbrella."
A man in a rain coat and rain hat passed me on the sidewalk
going the other way. He looked at me, and I gave him a
silly smile. Then he looked at Martha Jane behind me, who
strained to give him a perfectly normal smile.
She called out to me, "People are staring at youuuu."
"Martha Jane, honey," I said cockily. "This is my night.
I just got that feelin', baby. It's like...like money from
home. Like, nothin' can stop me now."
"Pneumonia will stop you. Hon, you've seen too many
movies."
"Look!" I exclaimed, and stopped short. I pointed across
the street at the Memphis Light, Gas and Water office
building. Built in the 1920's, it was famous for its
thousands of 60-watt electric bulbs that lined the frontage
and the entrance marquis. Onto the sidewalk they cast a
strong yellow light that shimmered in the rain and glowed
as brightly as the bulbs themselves. "Look at that! It
looks just like the ending of the movie tonight. Remember
John Wayne whistling at the end, and walking down the
sidewalk with all the yellow lights?"
She looked at me sternly and said, "No."
"C'mon, let's walk in the yellow light."
"Get under the umbrella," she said, harder now.
"But what's wrong with me doin' it myself?"
"Because," she said, louder and upset now, "I'm wearing a
wool sweater and it'll get wet and ruined and I can't
afford another one! Now get under here with me and stop
making me so angry with you!"
Surprised, I walked to her. She scowled angrily and
started walking toward home. For a tense moment we didn't
say anything. I took the umbrella, offering to hold it for
her, and she smiled tightly and said, "Thank you, you're a
gentleman," and we walked under the umbrella together. I
looked at her. She looked straight ahead and wouldn't look
at me. After a minute she took my arm and put hers through
it.
"It wasn't you," she said. "It was me. Some things just
remind me that I'm poor. I've worked so hard. And I wear
the same sweater for six years, and the same shoes, and
borrow clothes from more fortunate girls with more money so
I can look for work. And all I do is work and I'm still
not out of it. And I don't have a job and I looked for one
all week. But I won't quit school to take a full-time job.
I applied for a job yesterday and the guy, the boss, he had
me in his office talking to me and he started telling me
about how demanding the job was, how there was all this
clerical work and he said I could have it but I'd probably
have to cut some of my classes if I wanted the work because
it took so-and-so many hours a week. Well...I told him
there was no chance I'd quit any of my classes, and he
said, well, he could make a little deal. A little deal, he
said. There would be a little something extra, after
hours, and he could pay me for it. He could pay me a lot
for it, he said. And the way he was looking at me...He
knew I was desperate. He could tell I needed the job. So
he was going to make me a little deal. A little after
hours deal. Oh, Speedy, sometimes I hate being pretty. I
hate being trapped. Evelyn's getting successful now,
people are finding out how good she is at her job, and when
a man looks at her like that and wants to make a little
deal she can just tell him to shove it. I can't do that
yet. I can't say that without losing out. So I passed it
up. I told him thanks but no thanks. And I walked out.
But I didn't want to say thanks -- I wanted to say 'shove
it, mister'. I didn't even get that much satisfaction out
of it. All I could do was walk away from it and just
forget about it."
I didn't know what to say, so I walked with her silently
and put my hand on the arm she had locked in mine.
"I'm getting too desperate. I want it too much. I have to
stop wanting it so much. You were having such a good time
and I don't often see you feeling that good. I didn't mean
to stop you. I might have even been...a little jealous,
seeing you let go and watching you say 'screw you' to the
world."
She simmered down and walked silently for a moment.
"Hey," I said. "I've got a Hank Williams album at home my
Aunt Frances bought me."
She smirked at me. "Well, you certainly know how to change
the subject, don't you? You don't fool around."
I shrugged. "I guess you said what you wanted to say."
She hugged me. "You know something? You're a pretty cool
guy. I kinda like you."
I winked at her.
She winked back. "So, you want to play Hank Williams and
turn out the lights and watch the rain?"
"Sounds nice."
"You, uh, wanna do it nekkid?"
I looked at her, then cleared my throat. I blushed.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Oh, don't tell me I
embarrassed you! Oh my lord, you have to be kidding! "
"I kinda thought, after the story you just told me..."
"I was talking about a greaser who was taking advantage of
me and girls like me. He had an office full of them, all
practically the same age. I wasn't talking about you.
You're different. We're different. You know that."
I shook my head. "Maybe I'm too young. Sometimes girls
are, uh, verrry mysterious."
"You don't seem to have a problem understanding me...most
of the time."
"Most of the time," I said.
"Okay. We'll go home. Turn out the lights. Play Hank
Williams. Get nekkid. And I'll tell you all you want to
know about 'us girls'."
"Deal," I said.
Sometime later, Martha Jane and I lay nude together in her
apartment, listening to the rain patter against her bedroom
window. The Hank Williams album had long since been played
and replayed, and she had explained to me a great deal
about women, and different kinds of women, and girls, and
the way she thought about sex and boys when she was my own
age. Then she wanted to know about boys; specifically, she
wanted to know about me; and more specifically she wanted
to know exactly what it was I liked best when she sucked
me, and after I told her she did it exactly that way. She
did it so well that I began feeling the now-familiar
tightening and the pleasure pangs and the lusty itch and
told her I was starting to cum and that she had to be
careful because I was going to cum in her mouth if she
didn't stop. Rather than stop, she kept sucking with a
sweet vengeance until she felt the first spurt. Then she
slowed, tantalizing me, and in my dim state of
consciousness as I emptied my bag of cum into her mouth I
heard her gulp and swallow until I fell back and lay still.
With her hands and lips she drained all of me into her and
then lay beside me while I recovered.
"So," she said, "now you know another way to cum."
"I didn't think you wanted to swallow it."
"Some girls don't. I never sucked that boyfriend I told
you about. But I wanted to now because it was you. Your
cum."
"Oh, yeah," I murmured, "your boyfriend."
"Don't be jealous, hon, I don't see him anymore."
"Did you and him...?"
"Yes. Not very often. And I made him use a rubber, and I
hated it." She laid a gentle hand on my arm. "Don't worry
about him. It wasn't at all the way it is with you and me.
And I love your dick without a rubber, it feels good inside
me and it tastes good sucking you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, dummy."
"I thought I was finished cummin', but when I heard you
swallow I sort of starting all over again."
"Is that what it was? I thought it ended, too, and then
you squirted more."
Not to be outdone, I told her there was still more I wanted
to know about women. Specifically, about her.
Specifically, about her most pleasurable spots and how she
liked being licked. Another half hour went by as she
spread her legs and educated me in the details of her
nipples and tummy and thighs and cunt. She was much better
at explaining the technical details than I was at
explaining my own, though at one point she had to make me
stop. I asked her why and she said, "It's so intense, I
thought I was going crazy. Hon, you're getting so terribly
good at this!" After she rested she asked me to keep going
and explained more to me, although at times she was so
breathless I had trouble understanding her. Eventually her
sentences made very little sense and she stiffened and
quivered with a long cum.
She explained the differences between how it felt when I
made her cum manually or orally, and how her outer lips
were especially sensitive right after she came, so since I
was hard I entered her and we started fucking slowly and
she told me how wonderful it felt to fuck after she had
just cum. She asked if it felt different for me, now that
I'd already cum once, and I said it felt more sensitive but
that I also felt more in control. So we practiced learning
how we could tell when either of us would start cumming and
how to stop it but keep the pleasure going until we were
ready to start again. Both of us started a long climb that
took us to an edge where we didn't want to stop and
couldn't, and I started squirting in her when she was in
the middle of her cum and her contractions milked me so
thoroughly that I didn't want to move when it was over.
For a long time we held each other until she said she had
to get her little blue bag and go in the bathroom. This
time I didn't mention rubbers, knowing how much she
disliked them.
When she came out she said she was okay and asked if I
wanted to fuck again. It took a while to harden me, which
she did with her mouth and then by putting me half-hard
inside her and moving under me. Less urgent and hysterical
now, we were both almost clinical as we talked and excited
each other. When I was hard enough I screwed her the way
she told me she liked, bringing her to an edge and then
changing my movements to slow her down, until finally she
said she wanted to cum, so I moved in her the way she
wanted and didn't stop until she came. I let her rest a
minute and started again, keeping her on the edge, and
finally she came again and almost fainted. I was
thoroughly drained by then and didn't cum, though I was
close a few times and highly sensitized. At that point I
needed rest more than I needed another orgasm.
For a while we talked sleepily, listening to the rain that
still slopped outside the window. She put her head on my
chest and I found out how to massage her temples with my
thumbs. I caressed her that way until I knew she was
asleep. Watching her doze on me was a marvel. Filled with
tenderness, I continued stroking and touching her, finding
the exact shape of her gentle shoulders and her back,
playing in her hair, learning the wonder of the hollows and
curves of her trim waist and flared hips. Her deep and
steady breathing became my music for the night, along with
the waning rain. I didn't want to fall asleep right away.
I wanted to keep holding her and listening. I wanted the
night to go on. I considered staying awake all night and
would not allow myself to fall asleep; this would make the
night last longer, I reasoned, and by morning it wouldn't
matter.
But I was asleep before I knew it. I found myself in the
middle of the universe again. I was floating. Somewhere
in the distance I heard the hum, almost imperceptibly, and
I thought this time I would wake up and pay attention and I
would know what it was. But then the dark that had no
shape began changing and not changing shape and I thought:
no no here it comes again -- -
I was standing in her kitchen. Panting. I gulped, trying
to figure out how I got there. Behind me I heard her bare
feet running toward the room. She whispered frantically,
"Where are you? Speedy, where did you go?"
Turning, I saw her arrive in the doorway, and then she came
toward me quickly. I stumbled to her and as soon as I felt
her nakedness against me I clasped her tightly and wanted
to disappear into her breasts.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong? You almost knocked me off the
bed, you jumped out and ran so fast! I never saw anyone
run so fast!"
"I dreamed this before," I gasped.
"Of course you were dreaming, hon, of course. Are you okay
now?"
"I dreamed this before," I repeated, I held more tightly.
One hand at her back, my other held her by her smooth round
buttocks and pressed her into me voraciously. She
reciprocated and writhed into me. Her pliant body fit into
me as if her flesh and bones were part of mine. My cock
was incredibly hard against her pubic hair.
"Hon, your heart's beating so fast! What's wrong?"
"I had this dream before," was all I could say. I let go
of her and pulled her by the hand and led her back into the
bedroom. "I'm okay, I'm...waking up. I'm okay." Still
holding her hand I gestured for her to climb in, and when
she was in the bed on her back I pulled her knees wide and
opened her legs and fell on her, clasping her as tightly as
before, my face in her neck, mashing her tight breasts
against me. Frantically, realizing I had little control
over what I was doing and that it may have been part of the
dream, I searched for her with my cock, which was painfully
erect.
"You want me hon?" she asked. "Want me? Wait...let me
get wet." She licked her palm and I felt her rub herself
with it but I knew that wouldn't make her wet enough so I
scooted down and licked her-- -slowly, thinking that she'd
get naturally wetter if I did it the way she liked, and
after only a few seconds she said, "Good, hon. Hurry
inside me."
I moved up again, quickly, lunging with my cock and
missing. Her hand helped, and I went straight in. Doing
something I had never done before and had never thought of
doing, I put my hands under her butt and hid my face in her
neck and fucked her rapidly, deeply, hungrily. She said
"Yes, hon, it's good, it's good," and right away I came.
It was not a long or a very wet cum, but it was blindingly
intense and as always she milked me with her cunt when she
felt me throb in her.
Then I simply lay gasping on her, afraid to let go, amazed
at how I had just fucked her so thoroughly and completely
and quickly. She caressed my neck and back.
"What was wrong?" she whispered.
"I don't know what it is," I moaned into her neck.
"But what did you dream, hon?"
"I don't know what it is," I said again.
"Are you okay now?"
"Yes. I came in you. You'd better go in the bathroom." I
started to move for her, but she stopped me.
"No. Not until you're asleep again."
"I'm okay, go ahead."
"Shhh. I won't leave you in here alone." She put a hand
on my back and one on my rear and pressed me into the
pliant, warm, clinging length of her and squeezed her cunt
on me. Then she rested and held me.
I more than slept: I fell unconscious. I woke much later
as the birds were just beginning to sing in the dark.
Their song meant the sun would rise soon. The rain had
stopped. Martha Jane lay next to me on her side, one arm
around my waist. Her face was toward mine, eyes closed,
lips softly parted, hair splayed on the pillow. I kissed
her cheek very lightly, not wanting to disturb her.
Faintly I could smell her body on me and felt her dried
moisture between my legs. I put my hand on her waist and
slept again.
In the morning we woke and bathed together and I made
breakfast again. As we ate I was unable to explain my
dream to her, though I tried. She got dressed and went to
the supermarket and I went to my apartment and got my bed
ready for her. Late in the morning she returned and we got
back into bed, this time at my place. She grinned as we
embraced and said, "We owe the old place one more try
before you're gone." I was still a little tired and she
wanted to talk about my dream, but I stopped her by finger
fucking her until she had a prolonged orgasm during which
her hot and frantic whispers never stopped. Then she was
very tired, and we rested and made lunch, then got back
into bed and napped for half an hour. We got up and bathed
again. Though still tired, I asked if we could fuck again
and she smiled and led me back to bed. Languidly she lay
back with her thighs spread flat and watched me as I
steadily fucked her. I wanted to learn more about how I
could tell I'd be cumming. I stroked lazily in her until I
tired again, but I still didn't cum. She moved me to the
edge of the bed and lay on top of me, moving gently on me,
first in circles for a while and then up and down until she
was tired as well. Having her on top left me more rested
and very erect and horny, so I moved her to her back on the
edge of the bed and with her legs dangling to the floor I
stood between her thighs and found the bed just high enough
to let me stand and enter her deeply.
She lay restfully and looked down to watch, one hand behind
her head and the other stroking the exposed part of my
shaft. I stood between her outstretched legs, marveling at
how the skin of her inner thighs now had a tight, athletic
tone and flesh that whispered faintly as I stood and pumped
gently in her snug wetness and watched her subtly arch her
mound up and down. Finally, almost out of breath, I could
feel my shaft start twitching.
She asked, "Are you close?"
"...Yes..."
"Wait," she said, smiling devilishly. She held my hips to
make me stop thrusting and then she sat up a little, saying
"I've always wanted to do this." Biting her lip girlishly,
she looked into my eyes and held my half-immersed shaft
with one hand and with her other fingers she pressed the
muscles under my balls.
"Cum in me this way, hon," she said. "Let me jack you off
into me." With that, she began gently but quickly
masturbating me with half my cock in her.
All I could do was throw my head back and moan.
Her breasts jiggled as she swiftly but neatly jacked me off
with three slender fingers while rapturously studying my
face.
"Oh, I'm...Oh, it's so close!"
"hon...I can't believe how wonderfully wicked this feels."
She jacked me some more, not strongly, just enough to carry
me along an almost painfully slow, irresistible glide into
a long and libidinous cum, which finally arrived with a
smashing wave of sensation at the tip of my cock where the
wet ring of her outer lips held me and warmly, subtly
clung; my knees weakened and bent, and uncontrollably I
leaned back with my cock and hips extended toward her, my
tummy tightening. I watched helplessly as my knees moved
out and spread my thighs lewdly; and with a jerk of my hips
a blob of cum shot out of me like a bullet.
She felt it pulse along my shaft.
"There, baby, theeerrrr...mmm, you're cummin' so good,
hon... ..Mmm!" She beamed up at me, surprise and lust
flooding her face. She gently squeezed my balls. "I feel
it," she murmured gluttonously, highly satisfied with
herself. She watched my cock and continued draining me.
"This is so good."
Soon she could tell from my glazed eyes and the weakening
of my throbs that I had peaked, so she slowed her smooth
squeezing and stroked my chest as I finished.
Then I collapsed on her. I was emptied, and completely out
of breath.
She gave a low chuckle as I rested, still standing but bent
over her with my face in her neck as she lay on the bed
with her legs hanging over the side.
She said, "Hey, you animal, you really liked that, didn't
you?"
I nodded, struggling to get my breath.
She chuckled again, contentedly. "Oh my, so did I. I was
so surprised at myself!"
I panted into her neck, "You always...make it feel so
good."
She whispered, "Yes, and I want to, because you make it
good for me. You always do-- -it's like a fuck fantasy
come true. It's very special, the way we please each
other, the way you always seem to just...know."
I craned my neck and gave her a long kiss on the cheek.
By that afternoon, when we started straightening up for the
return of our relatives, both of us were saying we probably
wouldn't want to have another orgasm for months.
Of course, we were both wrong about that.
Continued...
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