1. Déjà Vu - Part One


    Date: 10/6/2014, Categories: Masturbation, Author: Boss01, Rating: 17, Source: LushStories

    not. Under the sweatshirt she was wearing a t-shirt with some sort of saying on it, but I was too busy looking at the pair of 36B tits that were underneath; firm and bra-less. I focused a little higher, and for the first time, I guess, really looked at her face; flashing emerald green eyes, a peaches complexion with a hint of freckling on her nose, all framed in her reddish locks. She was actually quite pretty. I looked back at her breasts again. She noticed where I was gazing, and started to try to tell me what the saying was on the shirt. I interrupted her. “I really wasn’t trying to read it.” She stopped, thought for a second, and turned red. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t offend you,” I said. “No, no. I’m just not used to men looking at me as anything more than a nerd.” “Well, it’s their loss. You are very pretty; and sexy looking. In fact, if I were about twenty years younger, I’d be hitting on you like crazy.” She blushed again. Interestingly, her nipples started to poke through the front of her shirt. I pressed the advantage. “In fact, I’d be kissing you right now.” I wasn’t sure how far to take the flirting, but her next move took the decision out of my hands, as she slid across the seat and into my arms. “Okay, then, kiss me,” she said. “But I’m old enough to be your father,” I said, trying to take the high road, at least for a while. “But I thought you said you were attracted to me/” “I did…I am…but shouldn’t you be doing this with someone your own age?” “Do you see ...
    any of them around beating a path to my door? C’mon, it’s just a kiss.” “Yeah, but you don’t understand men. First it’s a kiss, then it’s a grope, then we’re plotting to get you into bed. We can’t be trusted; especially us older guys,” I chuckled. “How do you know that I don’t want that?” She paused, then said, “Look, you think I’m sexy, I think you’re sexy. I want you to kiss me, you want to kiss me.” She ran her hand over my chest, then brushed my cheek with her fingertips. “Why don’t we start there, and see where it goes. We’ve got about forty-five minutes to figure it out until the tow truck gets here.” I leaned back against the door and pulled her to me; my left arm going across her back and shoulders while my right went across her lower abdomen. She turned her face to me, and I kissed her gently, almost chastely, on the lips. We broke, and she looked up at me again. “That was like kissing my brother,” she said. “Kiss me like a lover. Kiss me like you want me.” And I did. They were hungry kisses; hot, wet, forceful, as I pulled her tighter to me. She responded in kind, pulling me into her as she opened her mouth to accept my invading tongue. Based on her technique, she was clearly not experienced. But she was sure getting an “A” for effort. This time when we broke, we were both winded. “Now that’s more like it.” She ran her hand over my chest again. “So, do we kiss some more, or do we start the groping? And who gropes who first?” The darling thing about her question was ...
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