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The Barmaid

Category: Mature
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“Buy me a drink sailor?”

Blearily I swiveled my head towards the sound and tried to focus my eyes to see who was addressing me.

The barmaid who stood by the table finally came into focus. She was short, perhaps 5’2,” blond, and what I’d once heard described as “healthy” by a good old boy from Texas. She was what would now be called a BBW, not overly fat, but pleasingly plump and pretty to boot with sky blue eyes.

I looked down to the table and viewing the small pile of coins and bills, allowed I had enough money for another beer and a drink for her, so I nodded my head.

She picked up my empty glass and walked off to the bar to refill it and pick up her drink (juice and?). While I waited for her to return I looked around and found myself to be alone except for the bartender and the barmaid. Glancing towards the clock I finally determined that it was almost closing time which meant that after this drink it was time to head back to the ship.

Hell of a note! Friday night. I’ve got liberty until Monday morning and payday isn’t until Tuesday.

Being a young seaman back in the fifties on a destroyer in the Naval Shipyard in Portsmouth, Virginia was not a good thing because other then to drink 3.2% beer there wasn’t a whole lot to do, and when you’re only paid $99.00 plus sea pay each month you can’t afford to do much else anyway.

The barmaid brought the drinks, sat down, thanked me, and introduced herself as Jean.

She asked me a series of questions about myself, where I was from, and what ship I was stationed on. I answered her questions as she fired away, making small talk, while all the while she kept an eye on the clock.

As she sipped from her glass she all of a sudden got my attention when she asked me if I wanted to take her home when the bar closed.

Is the Pope Catholic? Hell Yes! But I wondered how much this was going to cost me.

She looked at the expression on my face. Taking hold of my hand she informed me in a hurt tone that she wasn’t a hooker. She was lonely tonight and she didn’t want to be alone.

Shortly, the owner entered the bar to count the til and the Young black man who’d entered with him began the nightly cleanup.

Jean took off her apron, told the owner goodnight and grabbing my hand, pulled me out the door.

Standing under the neon sign I put my white hat on and looked up at the flashing yellow horse just as the bossman turned the sign off for the night. If you want to know the bar was called the Golden Stallion.

Jean once again took hold of my hand as we headed for wherever home was.

She began to tell me about herself. She was 34 years old, came from Indiana, and had been married to a sailor for a couple of years but they’d split the blanket several years back.

34 years old? To an 18 year old sailor she was ancient. But what the hell! Any old port in a storm.

After walking about 6 blocks we arrived at an old wood frame building with ancient white asbestos siding which had probably at one time been the corner grocery store. Telling me to be very quiet we mounted the stairway at the back of the building.

I didn’t have to be told twice to keep quiet. Back in those days Norfolk and Portsmouth had special units known as “The Vice Squad.” If you got caught shacking up you both got a healthy fine and if she was a repeat offender she got fined and 30 days on the “Pea Farm,” picking her dinner at that quaint little prison out in the county.

Arriving at the top of the stairs she unlocked a door and we stepped into her apartment. As she turned the light on I looked around. There was no living room, just a bed and sofa in one room, a small kitchenette with a table, and a bathroom.

She put her handbag down on the sofa and turned to me pursing her lips for a kiss.

I returned the kiss as I put my arms around her and started to back her towards the bed. She broke my hug, told me she’d meet me in bed after she went to the bathroom.

She shortly returned, turned off the light, took off her nighty, and joined me in bed. Hot Damn, I was finally going to sleep with a real woman.

I’d had sex before courtesy of several skivvy houses here and there, but I’d never actually slept with a woman.

The only saving grace for me that first time was that I hadn’t had enough beer to be drunk and a failure, but I had had enough to slow me down. I don’t think Jean had a climax but she was breathing pretty heavy and with my being stupid about a women’s body, I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was to stick it in and merrily pump away.

My sex education was started that night by a lady who had experience, knew what made her feel good, and who now proceeded to teach me.

After I came inside her she cuddled up and started my sex education by teaching me the different ways to kiss. Boy was I dumb. When she got me to the point where I could kiss and begin to arouse her, she taught me how to nibble an ear and softly kiss her neck and shoulders.

Then it really got interesting when she took my hands and placed them on her breasts. Yahoo! I was having fun! After squeezing and playing with those lovely soft beauties she lifted one up and put the nipple in my mouth, telling me to suck the nipple and to gently bite and pull it with just my lips as I squeezed, while I rubbed, pulled and just plain had a good time playing with the other breast and nipple.

By now Jean was starting to breath a little heavier and she murmured to me it was time to switch as she took my play toy away from me and replaced the nipple I’d been sucking and biting with the other one. So I took hold of the now free breast and nipple and began to play with it.

Suddenly Jean grabbed my head and pulled it up to hers so we could kiss some more. We began playing tongue tag as she taught me how to French Kiss.

Jean then raised the ante by starting to softly rub her fingers on the back of my neck. Being a quick learner I rapidly reciprocated. She actually shivered when I started to softly stroke her neck.

Taking my free hand in hers she began to rub it gently up and down her body. She seemed to enjoy it most when she spread her legs and started to rub the inside of her thighs. After a few more of my caresses she placed my hand on her pussy and began to softly rub my palm up and down the length of her slit.

Her pussy lips were spread and wet with my cum and her juices. A few more strokes and her motor began revving because she was now starting to push her hips towards my hand when she whispered that she wanted me to rub my fingers up and down the inside of her pussy lips. She started to breathe with short loud intakes of breath as if she was having trouble breathing. Between gasps she urged me to push my fingers inside of her pussy and push in and out.

We were now going to engage in that old high school game known to all teenagers as “stink finger.” I thought I knew how to do that but I was dead wrong.

As I slid two fingers into her she actually pushed her hips up towards my thrust. I withdrew my fingers and pushed them back into her she cried out that she wanted them as deeply into her as I could. I began rubbing the walls as I moved the fingers in and out and it definitely had a greater effect as the noises coming from Jean’s lips became louder and were emitted at a higher pitch.

She reached down and pushed my fingers into her at the same time reaching for my thumb which she pulled up that mysterious thing known as “The Clit.”

When she had my thumb where she wanted it she told me to rub it gently, which I proceeded to do as I continued to rub my fingers inside her.

Having a free hand I put it on a breast, started to pull on the nipple when all hell broke loose!

I’d never heard the term screamer before, but Jean was a screamer. Her body was thrusting against my hand when she stiffened and then began to shudder. I was new to all of this so I looked at Jeans face and it scared the hell out of me.

Her eyes were rolling back under her eyelids and her mouth was twisted into a grimace like she was in pain. When her body stiffened her vagina walls closed down around my fingers. It seemed like this went on forever but was probably no more then 10 seconds as her body spasmed a few more times.

When she began to relax she placed both hands on my face, kissed me, and thanked me. Hell, I began to think I could walk on water.

I’ve taken in two state fairs, attended a dozen rodeos, and watched a hundred drag races, but I’ll tell you I’d never seen anything like Jean’s climax before.

Jean reached down to feel my peter and t’sked when she found it rock hard. I’d been so interested in getting Jean off and watching her reaction I’d not paid any attention to myself, but by now I was one horny sailor.

Jean said she wanted to cuddle a little until she calmed down some and then she was going to take care of my little sailor. I had a good chuckle over that term because that was the first time I’d heard it used.

As we lay there I began to stroke Jean and kiss her some more. When I started to play with her breasts she began to rev up again. After a short period she was hot enough so that she was going to take care of “her little sailor.”

I started to raise myself to climb aboard, but she stopped me and told me with a smile this was her treat so I should lay back and enjoy. She positioned me in the center of the bed, I put both pillows under my head, and Jean climbed aboard.

She bent over and took my prick into her mouth for a quick slurp then sliding up she sat down on it allowing it to enter her in one quick movement.

Two firsts within seconds of each other: First time I had a woman put my peter in her mouth and the first time the woman was on top. Man, I was having a great time. Thank you sweet Jesus!

She had me buried so deep inside her that her pubic bone was pressing against me but she wouldn’t pull out. Instead she moved her hips back and forth, then from side to side, then back and forth again.

I think she was feeling me getting ready to cum because she pulled her nice warm pussy almost all of the way off of me and stopped all movement. I will admit that cumming had crossed my mind.

Next she leaned over so I could play and nurse at those wonderful dangling breasts, which is my second favorite bedtime activity.

I am a breast man and my favorite kind are big pendulous ones. You can hold them, lift them, squeeze them, suck and kiss any part of them. and the skin is so soft and warm. The only thing softer would be a mouse tummy. Jeans were large, pendulous, and I was in heaven.

Well I would have been if she’d quit messing around and buried my peter back into that nice warm wet pussy, but she wasn’t going to for a few seconds until she had me under control again.

After a hundred years she finally pushed down slowly and let me back into that warm glove, burying me to the hilt again. By now Jean was beginning to breath heavily again as I played with her breasts and she felt my dick sliding against the walls of her pussy. When she had me buried she did something I’d heard about but never felt. She tightened her muscles and pulled almost all of the way off of me.

My good God, a snapping pussy. I must be living right. Only problem was that she had so much control over her muscles I thought she was going to pull the skin off my peter when she pulled off.

I’m only average in the peter department and I really couldn’t afford to lose anything. I need all I have.

When her pubic bone was pressing against me again I wondered if a man had a muscle that would work so I gave it a try and sure enough my pecker twitched, so I did it a couple of more times. Jeans eyes came wide open as she looked at me no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing. For a minute or two she sat there clamping and releasing her pussy and then I’d return the favor with a twitch or two.

Jean was getting ready to climax again as I heard her breathing head into the high soprano range as she started to break into a screaming session.

Suddenly the game was over. Jeans ass started snapping, her hips started rolling and she became a blur of motion. I was having a hell of a time trying to hang onto her breasts so I really squeezed them which only sent her to new heights.

She jammed herself down on me as she began to cum. When she started hers and her muscles clamped down it brought me to mine as I came inside her and I’ll be damned if she didn’t start a new series of climaxes, smaller then the first but enough that her body was shaking and she was moaning.

Finally she fell against me trying to catch her breath. As my abused peter started to shrink she clamped down in an effort to hold me inside of her and it worked for a bit but then I just sort of flopped out of my nice warm wet glove.

She finally rolled off of me and as we were both totally exhausted she curled up and I lay behind her with a hand laying atop of a breast while holding the other as we drifted off to sleep.

Because she didn’t have to work that weekend as all of the sailors were broke she and I spent the weekend together, with me treating her to a movie Saturday night.

It didn’t do to be seen walking together anymore then necessary because that might attract the vice squad. so we kept our activities indoors until I could get some of my civilian clothes over from Norfolk.

As the ship was in the yard for 3 months and then we’d be in and out of the yard for another 6 weeks Jean and I became an item, if you will.

That woman taught me how to play her body like a violin. She taught me how to kiss, lick, and caress it, She showed me how to find those parts of a woman’s body that excite and arouse her. She taught me how to be gentle, how to be rough without actually causing pain, and how to be patient.

She even taught me to be devious. Not to be repetitive. To take different routes, go to different places. She taught me to keep my lover in suspense as to what was going to happen next. Finally not to overlook the not so obvious for the obvious.

In the process she even taught me how to move inside of a woman and how to control myself so I could last longer before I came.

The time finally arrived when it was time to load up and head for Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (Gitmo) for refresher training.

The night before the ship left Jean kissed me goodbye and told me she’d see me when we got back.

Eight weeks later we returned from Gitmo, but Jean was gone and no one knew where or why. She’d picked up her check about 4 weeks after we’d left, quit her job and disappeared off the face of the earth for all intents and purposes.

Why? Again know one knew. The bossman at the Golden Stallion said she started putting on weight before she quit. Was she pregnant? Only Jean knew why she left.


Years later I was seated in my chair, my wife was asleep in our bedroom (I’m a night owl), with a brandy alongside and my pipe in my hand. The radio was playing old 1940’s & 1950’s music, and my thoughts began to drift.

My mind turned back to those early days in my Naval career when thoughts of Jean sprang to mind and I suddenly experienced an epiphany.

I knew and understood the gifts she had given me from our relationship.

When she took my hand or fingers and placed them here or there she was communicating, the same way she was communicating when she asked me to kiss her or touch her somewhere. When she asked me to slow down or keep doing what I was doing she was not only communicating but at the same time teaching me to be patient. When she screamed and her body stiffened up and then shuddered in climax she was really communicating because she was giving me a Bravo Zulu (well done).

Yes she’d taught me how to arouse her with kisses, caresses, and touches. But patience and communication were the greatest lessons I’d learned from Jean.

One other great pleasure Jean introduced me to that was as pleasurably sinful as a cup of coffee spiked with Irish cream and chocolate and topped with whipping cream was to slide my naked body up to the back of my bed-mate while she scooted her back against me and wiggle her butt until she had my little sailor just where she wanted it.

Once she was satisfied she reached behind her to take hold of my hand, lay it palm up on her nethermost breast, and wrap my fingers on the uppermost one. To make sure I stayed that way she would curl her hand around mine and sigh (purr?). Sensuously and pleasurably joined we would gently fall into sweet Morpheus’ arms.

The strange part of it was that my late wife did exactly the same thing. Is it built into the female gene pool?

Jean wherever you disappeared to, I hope you had, and if you’re still with us, continue to have the best life possible. Thank you for all you gave to me and taught me. You still occupy a special place in my memory locker.

sign me A Horny ‘ol Sailor 30-

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ปั้มไลค์ wrote

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