=====================================================================
       T H E   H O M E R   V A R G A S   S T O R Y   A R C H I V E
  All stories in this archive are the property of the author.  They may
  be downloaded and read by private citizens.   They are not to be used
  by commercial web sites.    Persons using this material on commercial
  sites will be vigorously pursued by the hounds from hell, or my legal
  team, whichever is deemed necessary.  (These stories were written for
  adult entertainment and should not be accessed by children.)
  =====================================================================









			  Scroll down to view text











Archive name: judith1.txt
Authors name: Homer Vargas (vargas111@yahoo.com)
Story title : Lilith

------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to Homer Vargas (c) 1999.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
------------------------------------------------------

Judith and Me
by Homer Vargas
(vargas111@yahoo.com)
revised by Trey Gallant

Chapter 1: Grace

"My God!  What a piece of ass on that woman!" I thought 
as I looked out from my patio.  Although Grace Archer 
must be well past forty, her figure didn't show it.  
She was plump, but in all the right places!  I had been 
watching her leave the house in her skimpy nurses' 
uniforms since she moved next door a few week ago.  It 
seldom failed to sent me off to work horny or back to 
my room for some relief.  On weekends I had seen her in 
frilly, translucent blouses that made it impossible not 
to stare.  And the mini skirts she wore - a little 
trashy, but damn they were hot!  I couldn't keep from 
looking at her beautiful ass.  I got a hard on anytime 
I caught a glimpse of her.

Now I was guiltily watching her hang out her laundry: 
lacy bras and high french-cut panties, not the sorts of 
things that most middle-aged women wore.  This morning 
she had on a pair of tight pink short shorts and a 
bright yellow halter I hadn't seen before.  The halter 
displayed her full breasts and the shorts hugged her 
tight round ass in a way that stiffened my prick.  No 
doubt about it, Mrs.  Archer was one hell of a stacked 
woman.

To my embarrassment, she noticed my eyes on her and 
blew me a kiss before wiggling her hips back into her 
house.  The rest of the week I had the impression she 
knew I was watching and that she was deliberately 
putting on a show for me.  Although embarrassed at my 
attraction to this sexy older woman, I couldn't get her 
out of my mind.  

When Friday night rolled around I dreamed about her.  I 
saw Grace standing by my bed in a short black dress 
rubbing her tits and touching herself between her legs.  
I tried to get up to make her go away, but I seemed 
paralyzed.  Then, very deliberately, she let the dress 
fall away, slipped into bed with me, and offered me one 
of her luscious breasts.

I didn't remember much else, but when I awoke very late 
Saturday morning, I could see I must have had a Hell of 
a wet dream.  The bed was a mess and I felt totally 
drained as if I had come several times in my sleep.  I 
tried to put the strange dream out of my mind, but it 
seemed always to be there.

I set about straightening the house, doing the laundry 
and catching up on business and tried to think about my 
date that night with Sarah.  It was annoying not to be 
able to get this sexy older woman out of my mind.  Even 
to compare the two was ridiculous.  My fiancee was slim 
and pretty, a lawyer who did work for my firm 
occasionally.  We were obviously right for each other.  
Sara was sensible and orderly and was going to be a 
perfect wife.  We would have sex once a week on Friday 
night -- lights out.  She would decide when the best 
time was for each of our exactly two children to be 
born.  Sara was sweet, but I couldn't shake the raw 
sexuality Mrs. Archer exuded.

Later, just as I was about to leave to pick up Sarah 
for our date at the opera, I heard a knock on my door.  
To my dismay, I found a grinning Grace Archer there 
with a big plate of stuffed jalapeno peppers, ready for 
a "visit."  Considering my uncomfortable attraction to 
her, I was embarrassed about letting her in.  Besides, 
I really didn't have time for her right then, but I 
found with the memory of that dream still on my mind, I 
couldn't close the door on her.

She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a too- 
tight hug and sashayed in, looking around as if she 
were going to buy the place.  Planting herself on my 
couch, she began downing the stuffed peppers, talking a 
mile a minute.  I sat as far away as possible on the 
love seat across the room hoping I could get rid of her 
as soon as possible.

Nevertheless, I couldn't ignore her display of cleavage 
while we talked.  Soon I realized she had her skirt 
hiked up as well, and I could see she wasn't wearing 
any panties.  I tried to control myself, but I couldn't 
keep from looking up her skirt, or into her blouse.  
The more I looked, the more difficult it became to 
follow what she was saying.  I was getting so horny 
just looking at this woman I couldn't think about 
anything except wanting to play with those titties and 
run my hand up under her dress.

Attempting to defuse the situation, I offered her some 
tea.  "Don't you have any beer?" she grinned.  I didn't 
and against my better judgement, I produced a couple of 
scotches.  "how about some more ice for this, honey?" 
she grinned as I was about to sit down again.

When I returned from the kitchen, my drink was sitting 
on the end table next to the couch.  I could hardly 
take it back to the love seat without being obviously 
rude, so I wedged myself into the little space on the 
couch Grace had left.  This left me pressed against a 
large, soft and very sexy woman.

As we sipped our drinks, I began to realize that I had 
made a big mistake in letting Grace into my house, and 
a worse one to let alcohol cloud my judgement.  I 
supposed it was my excitement, but the drink hit me 
hard!  I tried to make small talk, but was having 
increasing trouble concentrating on anything but Grace.

Suddenly she broke off, smiled at me, and said, "Do you 
like my breasts, David?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't be shy, she coaxed.  "You know what I mean.  
You have been drooling at my titties for a half hour, 
boy.  It's kind of cute the way you glance away 
occasionally, trying not to look, but your eyes keep 
being dragged back.  I have to conclude you enjoy 
looking at women's boobs."

"Please forgive me, Mrs.  Archer," I began.  It's just 
that ..."

"Oh, don't apologize," she interrupted, breezily.  "And 
I've told you to call me Grace.  It's a very natural 
reaction.  The drink has probably gone to your head, 
poor baby, and I *am* sitting quite close to you."  She 
giggle a little and snuggled a little closer.  "Is it 
your fault that a couple of naughty buttons of my 
blouse are undone, giving you a nice peek at my big 
round boobs?  You are a healthy young man; it's only 
natural for you to be getting horny."

"Well, yes, but still I shouldn't ..."

"Don't be silly, David.  It happens to men all the time 
when I show 'em these jugs.  I kind like it when a man 
can't keep his eyes off my bosom.  In fact, I want you 
to keep on my titties while I open my blouse a little 
more," she said softly, unfastening a couple more 
buttons.  "I want you to keep you eyes fixed on my big, 
round tits, David.  You could gaze at them forever.  
Tell my you like to look at my tits."

"I like to look at your tits, Mrs.  ...  Grace" I 
repeated, before I could stop myself.

"Very good, David," she smiled.  "You are doing just 
what I told you to do.  You are looking at my tits.  
You called me 'Grace.' You like doing what I want you 
to do, don't you?  You even admitted you liked to look 
because I ordered you to say it.  You like obeying me, 
don't you, David?"

"Yes, ma'am." I heard myself say.  God!  Why would I 
admit that?

"That's right.  Now just keep looking, you can't help 
looking at my big, pretty tits ...  because you want to 
obey me."  She had lowered her voice to a gentle, 
rhythmic flow of sound.  "Of course, I like it even 
better when you peek up my skirt.  You were peeking at 
me from across the room, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." I murmured, "But ..."

"Of course you were, honey.  I've got on a really 
short, sexy skirt and I hiked it a little to give you a 
nice view.  You couldn't keep your eyes off my crotch.  
Would you like to see some more?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now be careful," she teased.  "You should realize that 
peeking at my crotch will just make you hornier, but 
you like me to make you horny, don't you?" she coaxed.

"Yes, Grace," I barely breathed.  I wasn't thinking too 
clearly now.

"Of course you would, sweetie," she whispered, shifting 
and turning to expose herself even more.  "It feels 
good to let me get you horny.  I want you to be horny, 
baby.  A horny man does what he is told and that is 
going to make things a lot more fun for both of us."

By now, I guess I was just staring, stupefied.  "Well, 
don't waste my time just eyeballing me, my young 
friend.  These titties are itching for some action.  
Why don't you get these puppies out of my blouse, get 
yourself a handful of tit and start working me over.  I 
think you'll like what happens to me when a man gets 
his hands on my boobs!"

I started to protest but suddenly she took me into her 
arms and was kissing me.  Part of me knew something was 
badly wrong!  I shouldn't be doing this, not with her, 
and not when Sara was waiting for me, but somehow I 
couldn't keep my hands off her body.

Everything was so fuzzy.  First I was just feeling her 
up, but then before I knew it, she had me sucking and 
kissing those wonderful tits until I couldn't think 
straight.  Even while I was sucking those luscious 
nipples, she hiked up her skirt and guided my free hand 
between her legs.  "Put your hands on me down here, 
darling.  You're working my tits up real good, but I've 
got another toy for you to play with.  Ay, yes!  Right 
there!  Stick your finger in my cunt.  Tickle my clit, 
lover.  I'll show you how to make a girl happy!"

Foggy as I was, I was amazed; her pussy was already 
wet!  Before I knew it, even while I was just feeling 
her breasts, I think, she unzipped my pants and started 
massaging my cock.  And all the while, she kept 
talking, talking so softly that I couldn't make out 
most of what she was saying.  It drove me wild.  I was 
dazed, carried away with lust.

After having me finger her to several orgasms, she drew 
my face down between her legs, something Sara would 
never have allowed.  I don't know how long she held me 
there, nuzzling her pussy and tonguing her clit, 
drinking the juices that oozed out each time she came.  
Finally heard her say, "All right lover.  You've worked 
on me long enough, darling.  It's time for us to sack 
out."

All thought of Sarah had fled.  Grace must have just 
led me upstairs, to my bedroom.  My memory is rather 
hazy, but I think she sat me down on the bed and 
started taking off my clothes for me.  "You poor horny 
baby," she whispered and kissed me again.  "Grace made 
her baby work so hard to turn her on.  And he did such 
a good job.  His hands got her nipples hard and his 
tongue gave her wonderful cums.  He's going to be an 
awesome lover!  Grace is feeling warm and soft and so 
ready for long night in bed.  But in arousing her, poor 
baby got terribly aroused, too, didn't you sweetie?.  
Now he deserves to relax and leave everything to Grace.  
Grace is going to make love to her baby so good."

It was like a rape!  Part of me fought the desire for 
her, fought against losing control, but when she pushed 
me down to mount me, I was too weak even to want to 
resist any more.  "Good boy, my good horny boy," she 
cooed and crawled astride me.  She was so big I 
couldn't push her off.  I had never fucked with a woman 
on top.  I felt helpless under her weight, powerless.  
But it was wonderful, even as I felt control of myself 
slip away.  My body was hers to do with as she wished.  
She took my prick and slid it in her pussy and rode me 
for a long time, never ceasing to talk to me in that 
soft, sexy voice that I could not quite understand, but 
which I loved hearing.

Grace got herself off more times than I could count.  
At last she let me orgasm.  As I exploded into her, she 
cradled my head to her bosom, placed a nipple in my 
mouth and let darkness fall around me 

From then on my life was turned upside down.  Grace 
came over every night so we could make love.  I had 
never been so hot for a woman.  Sometimes during the 
day I would have fleeting thoughts about Sarah.  I knew 
I should return her increasingly irate calls, but it 
just kept slipping my mind.  All I could think about at 
work was getting home so Grace could screw me again 
that night.  She was a wonderfully randy bitch who 
couldn't seem to get enough, and she awoke in me that 
voracious passion of a younger man for an older woman.

If she was already at my house when I got back from 
work, I knew how she would be waiting for me, dressed 
in a parody of her nurse's uniform and eager to get 
laid.  She would engulf me in her arms and guide my 
hands up under the pantiless micro-shift.  As I fondled 
her bare ass, she would kiss me and whisper teasingly, 
"Oh lover, baby, you seem so tense and frustrated.  Are 
you horny because you haven't had your personal nurse 
for too many hours?  I'm going to give you the medicine 
you need to relax you.  Dinner can wait, darling.  You 
need some immediate relief, don't you?  I know how to 
soothe away those tensions, remove those frustrations.  
You need my special way to make a man unwind!  Come 
upstairs to bed, honey, and I'll give you a nice, easy 
roll in the hay."

She wouldn't let me prepare dinner until she had served 
me the appetizer from between her legs and I had been 
screwed silly.  And as soon as I had finished cleaning 
up after the meal, she would call me to the couch where 
we would make out while watching an erotic video to 
"make sure you're in a raunchy mood," she'd giggle.  
Then when I was horny out of my mind, she would always 
take me to bed and put me to sleep the same way: riding 
me to orgasm that knocked me out.

My recreational habits were jerked around 180 degrees.  
My (and Sarah's) season tickets to the opera lay 
unused.  Grace loved hockey and screamed like a maniac 
when a fight broke out.  Between fuck sessions at home 
she liked to watch wrestling on TV.  On weekends she 
dragged me up and down the East Coast to see stock car 
racing and tractor pulls.  On the positive side she 
also insisted I start a rigorous exercise program at 
the local gym, "because I want to make sure you stay 
hard."

Although I was somewhat disturbed by the powerful 
obsession I felt for Grace and my sudden loss of 
interest in other women -- Sarah had finally dumped me 
when I never called her -- I was too busy getting laid 
day and night by this insatiable woman to be able to 
worry much about it.  

Things might have gone on like that for I don't know 
how long, if the hospital had not sent Grace out of 
town on training for a few days.  She seemed a little 
apprehensive about leaving me, but she told me just to 
relax while she was gone and rented a bunch of porno 
movies for me.  "Just watch one every night and think 
about me while you wank," she had giggled after she 
made love to me the morning she went away.

The first night, that's exactly what I did.  Grace's 
instructions were ringing in my ears when I got home 
that evening.  Immediately I went to the VCR and 
slipped in the tape she had selected for me.  Almost 
immediately my eyes were glued to the screen and my 
cock grew hard as a rock.  An old movie from the days 
when porn flicks had plots, it showed a group of white 
explorers in Africa who are turned into breeding slaves 
by a tribe of big-busted women.  As the movie ends, the 
queen of the tribe is lolling between two smiling women 
with large pregnant bellies who are slowly 
masturbating.  The even more pregnant queen has an 
expression of sheer ecstasy on her face as the leader 
of the explorers is kneeling between her legs eating 
her to orgasm.

Wow!  Grace really know how to push my buttons!  I went 
to sleep that night with visions of the queen/Grace 
fucking me silly.  Unfortunately for Grace, the fare 
the next night was not so stimulating, several men and 
women fucking in various position and rooms of a house 
without much rhyme or reason.  I had a good come, but 
nothing like the night before.

By the third night for the first time in months, I was 
thinking more clearly.  I really didn't want to watch 
another film like last night so I decided to catch up 
on personal business.  I sat down with my bank 
statement and to my shock, I noticed that for the last 
three months my software royalties had been transferred 
to Grace's account.  It dawned on me that I had not 
been spending any of my own money recently.  Grace 
always bought the groceries-- she was practically 
living over at my house now -- and when we were out 
shopping, even for clothes for me, she was the one who 
paid.  I even remembered the amused looks she got from 
some of the saleswomen and the "eat your heart out" 
wink she had given them.  I had only a few dollars 
Grace gave me every morning for the Metro and lunch.

What was going on?  First my sex life, then my personal 
life and now finances had been taken over by my horny 
neighbor.  And I certainly couldn't remember ever 
agreeing to any of this, certainly not to turning all 
of my income over to her.  The words "sex slave" popped 
into my mind.  I could vaguely recall Grace grinning 
down at me as she fucked me, saying, "You want it, 
don't you, sweetie?  You want to be my little sex 
slave!"

This was more than embarrassing; it was terrifying.  I 
realized I had a problem and had to get professional 
help, and I had better do it now, before Grace got back 
and fucked away this window of lucidity.  I went to my 
computer and began searching on the Internet for local 
psychologists.  A flashing banner caught my eye: Dr.  
J. Roth -- Specialized in Psychosexual Problems.  Just 
what I needed.  I called for an appointment.

To be continued in Chapter 2: Judith

Comments (please) to
Homer Vargas
Vargas111@yahoo.com




    

Judith_and_Me_Part_1