Date: Tue, 2 Nov 2004 10:02:31 -0800 (PST)
From: bill akins <wwwmktg@yahoo.com>
Subject: Y and Miss K. (3)

I was alone and my head was swimming. I picked up my stuff and stumbled out
to my car. I drove home in a daze. I don't know how I managed the red
lights and stop signs but I did get home. I went in the front door, instead
of the kitchen, yelled hello to my mother who I knew would be in the
kitchen and told her I was taking a bath before supper. I needed one.

In my room I threw my stuff on the floor. I had to think. But I just stood
there. Then I saw myself in my floor mirror and I could feel her behind me
again, looking over my shoulder. I undid my jeans and pushed them to the
floor, panties and all, and kicked them away with my shoes. The turtleneck
came off over my head next and I unhooked my bra and flung it among the
clothes litter (getting undressed it not usually such a violent affair for
me). I shook my head to let my hair fall back into place and stared at my
reflection in the mirror. "What do you think, Miss K?" I said the words
clearly but I knew I was talking to myself.

If Miss Kent is Juliet Hutty at 25, but not skinny, then I'm Katie Couric
at 17 1/2 . (I know. I watch way too much news). I'm 5' 3" tall, at most,
in shoes. I weigh 122 pounds cause if I eat eclairs and gain up to 128
pounds my inner thighs rub together. I hate that. My hair is just to my
ears and swept back. My eyes are brown with gold flecks. My breasts are not
like Miss K's at all. They cover more of my chest but don't stand out as
far. My aureole are like pink rose leaves, covering my little flat pink
nipples until they get cold or excited. Then the "leaves" just kinda fall
away. My tummy and hips are too round.  At least they're smooth. My legs
are short but firm from all the swimming and my feet and hands are small
but not short and pudgy. I would hate that, too. You can't see my cunny
when I'm standing, just a little hair where my thighs form the bottom of a
"V". My navel is an "innie".

I squeezed myself and closed my eyes to clear my head then marched to my
bath.

After supper I did my homework and got in bed, at a very early hour for
me. But I didn't get to sleep for a very long time. I kept seeing her,
smelling her, hearing her, wondering about her. When I thought of her
tongue in my ear my hand pushed under my pajama bottom and three fingers
pressed in circles over my clit until I came. Only then could I finally
sleep.

I was up early and when 09:49 finally came I pulled into Miss Kent's
driveway. I didn't know what to wear so I just put on my Mall outfit: my
nicest tee, jeans, and tan sandals. I brought a notebook. Why? I don't
know.  I felt like a lamb taking her self to the slaughter but I guess part
of me felt a little like the butcher, too.

The house was a small brick ranch with a picture window next to the front
door. When I rang the bell Miss Kent pulled open the door and said,

"Come in, I'm on the phone," and ran back into the kitchen. The door opened
directly into one end of a narrow living room. There was a green couch
across for the picture window, an end table with a lamp, a brown armchair,
and a small television. Even the carpet covering most of the wood floor
said it was clean, Salvation Army. I could see Miss K. at the counter of
the little kitchen/dining room. Her hair was up in a ponytail, she had on
no makeup; she didn't need any, not even lipstick. She had on a big t-shirt
that came to mid thigh and nothing else, not even shoes. I heard her last
words on the phone,

"H-E-L-E-N-K-E-N-T, Monday afternoon, after 5:00. Ok." She hung up the
phone as I came in to the other side of the counter. I saw a new bottle of
gin next to the phone.

"You really did come," she said, like she didn't remember about yesterday
at all. "Can I get you anything?" I dropped my notebook on the counter and
looked into those big blue-green eyes,

"Just a little of that gin, please. With ice or without." She grabbed the
bottle and two shot glasses and poured each half full. I took mine and
gulped it down all at once then looked back up into those eyes. My own eyes
watered and the liquor burned all the way down but I felt less strung-out
right away. She drank hers down in one swallow as well and looked back at
me.

"I wouldn't have thought of you as a big drinker."

"I never drink." I almost shouted. "But I've never been so confused. I
don't know why I'm here, what I'm doing or even what I am." She came around
the counter.

"This is why you're here." She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me,
softly, then hard, then biting my lips. She moved her lips to the top of my
ear and I felt that tongue. As my eyes closed I felt her back away enough
to pull my tee over my head and before I could blink her tongue was on my
other ear. She pushed my bra up over my breasts and knelt on the carpet
with her mouth on my right nipple and her thumb and forefinger on my
left. She bit my nipple just hard enough to make me yelp, and then licked
it up and down with her tongue. She pinched my other nip harder, until I
tried to pull away from the pain, released it and recaptured it with her
mouth, sucking and licking noisily.

"Take off your jeans," she said, in that command voice. I unsnapped my
jeans and pushed them to the floor.

"Panties, too," she whispered, "but don't kick them away."  I did as I was
told and stood there, I know, looking lewd and ridiculous with my jeans and
panties down around my ankles and my boobs hanging out under my bra, which
was still hooked.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she said.

She reached behind my back and unhooked my bra and dropped it. She held my
left arm and walked me out of my other clothes and sandals. She led me to
her bedroom door but when we go there she turned and kissed me again. Her
tongue was in my mouth so I sucked it and she moaned. She moaned again as
her hand slipped down to my mound and she curled her fingers into my cunny.

"Did you think about me last night? "she asked, pressing her fingers and
pulling upward.

"Oh, Yes, " was what I managed to say.

"Did you get yourself off?" I was so embarrassed but I just looked up into
her eyes and nodded.

"Do again, for me, now, " she said as she opened the door to the
bedroom. If the living room was Salvation Army the bedroom was Trump
Tower. There was a huge king-size bed with a light gold-colored, ultra
suede headboard reaching almost to the ceiling. A painting of a window
covered the small window. The scene "through" the faux window was a
snow-covered hillside with a dark blue sky and leafless trees. The carpet
was very thick, the color of the headboard. The bed sheets were white
cotton with a red and gold pen stripe. The bed was full of pillows arranged
like a throne.

"That place is for you," she said, "I made it for you last night." She did
think about me last night! I shuddered. I think from the gin but I'm not
sure.

"You can do anything in there but eat crackers."

I couldn't help but laugh, "I like crackers." She grabbed my pubic hair.

"Do it for me," she pleaded. I crawled up on the bed and flipped around to
lean on the pillows. Looking at her, now sitting sideways on the end of the
bed, I pressed my fingers into the "V" between my thighs.

"No! Spread your legs wide so I can see everything." Her voice was at once
commanding and beseeching and I had a thought. As I let my legs fall apart
I commanded, "Take off the shirt!" She smiled a wicked, satisfied little
smile, faced me, planted her feet on the floor, reached for the hem of the
T and pulled it slowly up her thighs. In a moment the shirt was over her
head and on the floor. But my eyes never got that far. They were glued to
her cunny. Her pubic hair was sparse and wet and I could see her lips
"hanging" there, so different from mine. And I saw her pink hooded clit
poking out from between the folds. My hand was fanning slowly but firmly
over my own bright spot, but when she said,

"See anything you like?" and thrust her hips toward me, my fingers started
pressing in a tight circle, harder, so hard it hurt. So I slid two fingers
down my cunny to where it was very wet and slick and brought them back up
to my clit, using an up and down motion instead. Miss. K. nodded and seemed
to appreciate this view. I know she could see my clit on each down stroke
and my little hole every time I came back. I closed my eyes to try to slow
down so she could see more and to slow the contractions I was starting to
feel around my clit. I felt Miss K. take my foot in both and when I opened
my eyes she was back on the bed kissing and licking my instep. I thought I
would die. I pressed hard on my clit as it started to spasm. Then she bit
my instep. Time stopped and in slow motion a tingly wave came up my leg and
crashed into my already bursting clit. My legs and stomach started to
quiver and I could not make them stop. My clit tried to jump though my
covering finger. Miss K. continued to hold my foot until the quaking had
almost stopped then crawled over me and lay on top of me, her lips on my
ear.

"Better than crackers?" she whispered. I couldn't speak but I nodded and
she could feel the nod with her lips cause her tongue was in my ear again.


More?, Comments, wwwmktg@yahoo.com