I would say that I’m your normal everyday-working housewife. Jeff and I have been married for just over ten years. We got Married young at age 18 right after High School. As of right now we have no children. We are both 28 years old. My measurements are 34C-24-34 at 5’2” and 114lbs. I also have shoulder length blonde hair. We have all the gym equipment a person needs in the basement. So it makes it real easy for me to stay in shape right here at home. Let me see, what more should I tell you about myself?
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"So, you think you might be OK, now? A different perspective, I hope?"
"Yes, yes, thank you, . . . You know I haven't gotten your name. I feel so . . ."
"No need to, son. You can just call me Dingle. And I won't be seeing you up here again, I do hope."
"Umm. I kinda hoped that—"
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Usually, I-75 from Fort Lauderdale to Naples isn't a very exciting ride. But as my car sped along, passing Florida State Road 19 at around 75 mph, I was pretty fired up. Yeah, I noticed the hundred or so gators sunning themselves on the embankment that lines the interstate; that was different. However, the hormones that were coursing through me this day didn't have anything to do with being excited over cars, or mileage, or gators. The drive itself was a nuisance.
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All I could see were mirrors, yet the voice resounded in the room. I could hear a woman speaking to me. She'd tell me to walk in one direction, yet I wouldn't be able to get past myself, my own image. Offering words of encouragement, she tolerated my inability to overcome my own obstacles.
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I have mentioned in other stories I have written here that I worked for many years as an English professor at a small but expensive New England college. I retired at the age of 65 as a result of the college's policy of mandatory retirement—a stupid idea in an age when most people live longer than they did in the past and most retain their brain capacity. I continued to live in the same town and the same house that my late wife and I had occupied for 30 years.
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It was a feeling more than something I saw. But I paused and took a slow look around. No one was looking at me and the only other customer was a lady about my age pushing a cart through the Produce department. There was that young man with the tool belt sitting on the floor working on one of the display cases. On the back of his jacket it was printed "Jakes Air-condition and Heat." However he seemed to be engrossed in his work.
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You may or may not remember me, but to refresh your memories anyway, I was the slut that sucked off many a cock and got fucked in every way possible by two women and at least 50 guys at a pool party last summer. Even after all that weekend of sex, I was still hot and very horny and spent the following week getting myself off over and over just thinking about that party.
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I wanted to grab a fucking bottle of vodka and chuck it. Or throw it. Or burn it.
Extraordinary stress, huh? Yeah that is what I am feeling. Damn pissed off at Daniel. We had an argument last night about where we are headed and in the midst of it, he said we should part ways for a while.
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He couldn't keep his eyes on the road, or his mind on his sales pitch. The sexy blonde was driving barefoot, and all Gavin could think about was how his cum would look on those toes of hers.
"Wow, it handles like a dream," the girl said, smiling. The bright sun reflected back from the polished chrome of the gas pedal, the dazzling light gleaming from between her toes.
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I fired up the laptop and sat in the chair. I waited quietly in the dark room while it loaded and connected to the net. There we go I thought. I clicked on the icon and the world opened up to me.
I typed in the usual address and looked to see what they had to offer for porn today. I skipped over the big fake tits getting drilled by monster cocks stuff. That was old and boring. I wanted something new, something different.
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