Friend of the Family

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“Mmmmm, that really feels good.” Cathy sighed turning her head slightly as she did.

“Mmmm, it’s supposed to.” I chimed back.

That was it? That was the best I could come up with? After twenty some years practice and countless rubs on countless backs, this was still the best come back I could formulate? Cheesy, yes, only saving grace is that we were both right. After twenty some years practice I had become adapt at least in learning how to touch a woman, and the countless rubs had taught me just where.

My thumbs traced the grooves on both sides of her spine radiating outwardly away in small semi circles every few inches. She’d pulled her t-shirt up to just under her arms leaving her shoulders covered. I stopped my kneading at her bra, lifting over it and continuing above. My fingers slid under the “tee” and rested on her lower neck. Her shirt bunched and strained against my forearms and I figured now or never, damn the torpedoes, and what the hell. Least that could happen; I’d look like a dick. I swallowed hard and let loose:

“Y’know this may be a little easier going if we loose this,” I winced, mustering all the confidence and false bravado within. She’d insist on leaving now, sorry this doesn’t feel right, we’d better stop, yeah “loose this, my ass”…

“I was thinking the same thing.” She propped up to her elbows, head still down, thumbs securing each side and before my amazement to her reaction could set in, wiggled free of the confining cotton.

Simple as that, she lay flat again. With slightly more nervous fingers I began working the left side of her shoulder and neck. I must admit to chill I got as my left pinkie slipped innocuously under the satiny white strap of her bra.

“Don’t think I’ll be needing this either.” she said from behind a mop of auburn locks, shocking me back from the momentary distraction.

She reached behind herself with both hands. With deft precision and the subtle flick of a thumb the clasps of her brassier snapped away from each other. Again up on her elbows she let slip the straps from her shoulder, raising up from the bed only enough to let it slide out from under her as she tugged. The curve of her breast was barely visible from my vantage point, but it’s a sight I’ll never forget.

“I was thinking the same thing.” I managed to mutter, not quite on cue. Sure I was.

“I’m sure you were.” She craned her neck back and flashed a smile. So here we were. Cathy Holdon was naked from the top down receiving a massage I normally reserve for those I generally know, or at least wish to know, on a more… intimate level. Sprawled out on my bed. My bed! Nothing of the moment was lost on me. Or her, I’m sure, for that matter. I had had a crush on Cathy most of my life. A friend of my mom’s since before I was even born I had harbored ideals of affection for her since before girls possessed any appeal at all. To this day I find resemblances of her in other women I am attracted to. And there we were. Not quite three sheets to the wind from all the wine drank at the reception earlier, but we could feel it’s blow from here. Being two of the only singles at the party under sixty and over eighteen we found each other’s company and attention an unintended bright spot to an otherwise dull evening. Surprisingly so.

When I later, after god knows how many toast to the bride and groom, attempted to excuse myself and beat a quiet retreat she stood from where we’d spent the majority of the night sequestered gave me a kiss on the cheek and said all the obligatory things you say to someone you haven’t seen in few years and probably Ankara travesti wouldn’t see for a few more (or at least until one of the other kids get hitched) she paused. Her smile and the look in her eyes spoke volumes. Save me! Gallant as I am and knowing how busy mom would be with the details of her little girl’s wedding there was no way I could consign her to a long night of my drunk relatives and bad DJing. An offer, an acceptance, and BANG! Somehow she’s half nude on my bed and well on her way to being covered in baby oil. Whoever said going stag to weddings was no fun obviously never went to the right ones.

“Well…” With one vowel she had me back at attention.

“Yeah, um… well indeed.” Schmuck. I loosened the cap and poured a dollop of oil into my palm rubbing it into the other vigorously to warm them before applying. I applied. She received. Both in silence. After five minutes that could have been five hours she stretched her arms out akimbo in front of her and arched like a stretching cat. I could feel the muscles of her back flex and relax under my touch. She was exquisite. In mid stretch she rose, just barely. Again I caught a slight glimpse of her breast, or at least the side of it, and for that nanosecond of a peep a not so subtle, not at all unfamiliar pressure stirred below my waist. Uh-oh.

“Mmmmm…” she sighed and relaxed back down, arms still outstretched. “Think you could use a bit more oil? Want you to be able to rub hard.” What’re you kidding me? I flipped the cap and turned the bottle upside down in my hand completely forgetting that I’d not retightened the cap after the last use. In slow motion the little blue cap fell free. In slow motion baby oil poured from the bottle into and over my cupped palm splashing on and down the sides of her back. She let out a shriek and rolled to the side crossing her arms over her chest as she did.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry” was all I could stammer. I was too. To my obvious dismay his would surely be the end of this. To my dumbfounded surprise she was smiling.

“You did that on purpose.” she tried her best to scold.

“I swear I didn’t.” I didn’t. I reached for a towel as a dark stain slowly spread across the comforter.

“This is going to stain.” she gestured with her head.

“Need a new one any way…” Lame. As I reached for the towel she rolled back to her stomach.

“Well, if you were going to get a new one I don’t see any reason to waste all this.” She ran her right hand over her shoulder and down her arm. And I had girlfriends who said watching Caddyshack three dozen times would do nothing to help me in the real world. Thank you Chevy Chase.

“I am so not into waste.” I’m not. I did my best to rub the pools of slippery liquid around to as much of her body as I could reach. There was only one thing to do. Again the torpedoes be damned. “We’re going to need a little more skin. I mean so’s not to waste…”

“Just so’s there’s no waste.” she looked back and smirked. I was smitten and seven all over again. I was smitten and thirteen again. I was smitten and twenty-one again. I was smitten.

She reached under herself and unbuttoned her slacks and lowered them to the mid point of her hips leaving her panties unaccosted, giving a little wiggle as she did. Tease. We continued in silence for a time. She moaned slightly as I worked the muscles in her lower back in increasingly larger circles, stopping each stroke just above her panty line. Without a word I slid my nearly shaking hands along her hips and underneath the elastic trim of her underwear easing them Konya travesti down as I did. She lifted her hips slightly, accommodating her undressing all the more. I was sure my erection would at any moment burst from my pants and put out an eye. To my relief, it didn’t. Her panties joined her wool slacks in a bunch just below the curve of what appeared to be a delicious ass.

“Good lord,” I began before realizing I was speaking aloud “nice tan line!”

“Oh, ” she leaned back “this old thing?” she asked without the least bit of pretence.

“Um… yeah, right…” I mocked sarcasm “‘this old thing’ whatever. You’re ass is fabulous! Look at this thing.” I gave a playful smack. She smiled despite her self and lay her head back down. My attempt at humor seemed to put her more at ease with lying in front of her best friend’s son with her untanned ass exposed. The “old” reference, whether she realized in saying it or not, wasn’t for a second lost on me. Bob had left three years ago in difference to the idea of him finally giving up smoking. Of course that he moved directly in with his twenty eight year old hair stylist should in no way constitute a vote of no-confidence in the Nicoderm patch. I’m sure the dumb bastard still smokes. Besides her ass was fabulous! On a whole Cathy had only gotten prettier as she got older. Not that I’d ever expect a woman to believe hearing that about themselves, I do mean it.

“Really, though…” I trailed off grouping for the right words “you are beautiful, y’know?” Geek! Shut up! My hands continued a trail of their own. Without any warning she again rolled to her side, again crossing her arms over her breasts as she did. The entire split of a second is indelibly burnt into my mind. In the literal blink of an eye I completely drank her in. The sheen to her skin, the curve of her hip, the line from her stomach, the tone of her flesh where her bikini bottoms met the kiss of the sun and the lack of tan lines above her waist, which up until that moment I had failed to even note. Cathy tanning without a top….. good for her!

“Why, Mr. Sly, ” she toyed “are you trying to seduce me?”

Answer, need answer, good answer, good funny answer.

“Yes. Yes I am.” Is it working?

“It’s working.” Sweet.

She reached up cupping the back of my neck with her fingers and pulled me to her. The first kiss was so subtle, so gentle if I’d been able to blink I’d have missed it. The second was met with more insistence from her now parted lips. The third through thousandth possessed no discernable beginning or end. We both tore at my clothes as if they were afire. Nearly were. My hands glided effortlessly over her body eliciting an occasional shudder. Her own hands fumbled with my belt and zipper. Once undone she slipped a hand down my stomach and underneath my unbuttoned trousers. It was my turn for a shudder or two as her warm fingers wrapped around the base of my cock. I kissed her neck working my way down her body and out of her grasp as I did. Plenty of that for her later, I assured my self. I paused at her breasts lavishing them with licks and kisses before making my way down her belly inching her pants the rest of the way down her thighs as I did.

“You ok with this?” I looked up from between her legs. She looked down at me and grinned.

“Shut up,” and with that grabbed both sides of my head and pulled herself against me, letting out a long throaty groan. I savored the taste of her. I couldn’t get enough of her in my mouth. I licked and teased her all the while giving liberty to my wandering hands. I had come to the İzmir travesti conclusion that there was no part of this woman that I’d let go untouched. Though unvoiced, I think she was of like mind. My lips and mouth closed around her as I flicked my tongue in and out of her. Her hips moved in a rhythmic grind against my mouth. She was incredible. As cliche as it sounds; time lost all meaning. Her breathing labored as the maddening back and forth undulations crescendoed with her sighs and moans. Cathy let out a surprised sounding gasp and grabbed the side of my head, almost too tightly, and held herself in one position, arching herself off the surface of the bed.

“Oh fuck…” she breathed, “right there, don’t… ah-hhh, I’m gonna come…” and with eyes tightly closed, how could I not be watching, she came. I continued to lap hungrily at her sending her into convulsion after convulsion, only stopping when she’d practically begged me to. I lay there between her legs and watched her regain both breath and heady composure still tracing her figure with my hands. I could have stayed there forever.

“Come here, ” she commanded more than beckoned. I did. When were eye to eye she encompassed her mouth over mine letting her tongue run across my lips, tasting herself on me. In a flash she rolled me onto my back and pulled me free of my pants. My now rigid and straining erection slapped against my belly as she did. I had never more felt the need to be inside of a woman more in my life. An electric shock ran the length of my spine as her mouth ran the length of my shaft. She looked up in reply to my gasp.

“I want to taste you, ” she said almost shyly, almost embarrassed “I want you to come in my mouth, too. But right now I’ve never wanted anyone to be inside of me as much as I do right now…” Get the fuck out of here.

It was my turn to pull her to me. Without a word she took me in her hand and rode back and forth against the tip of my cock and with a murmuring sigh settled atop me. My hands cupped her breast as she slid down the length of me. At this point I’d love to regale the dear reader with tales of my prowess and wow them with odes to Herculean stamina, but with in three dizzying pumps I was on the verge.

“You have to get… off,” I meekly warned “about to come.” She didn’t miss a stride continuing to ride me.

“Come inside of me.” She said, opening my eyes with her, not quite, request. “It’s ok, I won’t get… I want to feel you come inside of me…” her hand ran along my cheek and now determined, stepped up her thrusts. “Come.”

It was all the coaxing I needed. I exploded in throb after throb as she continued her ride. Once I could again breath, or at least be aware of breathing, the sensation of her body’s motion moving me in and out of her proved too much and I pulled her off of me laying her at my side. She lay next to me satisfied in her ability to satisfy me so well. Like that would have been in doubt.

Cathy left for home in sunny California three days after that. The majority of those three days were spent in collusion. How could we get away from everyone just long enough to…, where could we go that we’d find enough privacy to…, just what way haven’t we gotten each other to… were all questions who’s answers conveniently provided themselves. I reflect back to that weekend fondly and quite often to tell the truth. Not often do we get a chance to actually be with and actually please a lover we’ve dreamed of since adolescence. Hell, I never had at least. I will always love Cathy, probably more than most women that either have or will come into my life just for what it is she represents in both body, spirit and ideal. If I took anything from the experience it would have to be that no matter how imposing the target, sometimes those torpedoes just need to be damned.

God, when is my brother finally going to get married!?!

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