Earleen

Normal disclaimers apply, any and all portrayed as having sex are 18 or older.

I have received numerous e-mails asking the same four questions, instead of try to answer every individual mail I thought I would answer one time via a story submission.

1. Yes, I was raised on a dairy farm

2. Yes, I served in the military

3. I have been a master electrician and journeyman refrigeration serviceman all my adult life

4. I have written other publications in the past but not in this format.

This story doesn't start out as a romance but evolves into one quickly. Many of the towns and locations in this story are complete fiction.

Earleen part one (pronounced Erleen)

I'm not sure why I insist on being so different from most girls, it's almost as though I was doomed from birth when my dad named me after his great grandmother. Earleen. Not Earleen with a middle name I could have used, just Earleen, who names their kid Earleen in the twentieth century? I've walked around with a chip on my shoulder most of the time, not always in a menacing way, but I'm unwilling to suffer fools and often say as much. Mother told me for years, and still does, my biggest enemy is an inch below my nose, my big mouth.

It all began as I entered puberty, prior to those years other than my odd name I was like every other gangly silly giggling girl. We were all so excited about the changes our bodies were going through. As though on cue the five of us closest friends began to develop over the summer between seventh and eighth grade, we tittered and giggled and laughed, all silly school girl stuff, with one small problem, well, it actually became a big problem. I was growing faster than the others, some were jealous, some were upset, I just wished I was normal. Entering my freshman year, I had a chip on my shoulder a block wide, all because my body seemed so out of proportion with my friends and you know how kids love to tease.

My growth seemed to peek the summer after I turned eighteen, I was and have remained a 34DD for many years. I'm five foot eight and weigh a hundred thirty five in a wet wool sweater, my waist is slender but not small, my butt and legs are what I consider average, I keep my hair long by choice tying or bunching it tightly when I work.

I think my face is cute, at least no one has said differently, I wear glasses and wish I didn't, but hell, things could be so much worse, why complain. Because I work in the trades I tend to *dress down* if you will compared to most female attire, that is unless I want to go out and get laid, then I wear something that I think is sexy. I never seem to have trouble getting someone to crawl between my legs when I'm all horned up, so I can't be too ugly. I'd always gotten along with my mother and sister but just barely, I were used to the fact that I had always been a tomboy, but the choice I made after graduation was something they didn't see coming and when they found out they went apeshit, which only added to my internal fires.

The old man was happy and told me to ignore the naysayers, especially those I was related to. You see, I had enlisted in the Marines for a three-year stint, with the goal of a discharge and the GI Bill to further my education. No, I didn't become some ninja warrior, black ops killing machine, I learned all the same self-defense stuff everybody learns in basics but after that I was a clerk at the battalion level, happy to have made E-4 by the time I was discharged. I had discharge papers in hand, I was 21 and ready to take the next step, a step that once again pissed my mother off while at the same time it made the old man proud, my grandfather was an electrician, my dad was an electrician, and now I was going to be an electrician.

Dad had originally hoped my older brother would follow in his footsteps, that would never be, my brother didn't know which end of the screwdriver was the working end and didn't want to learn. On the other hand, tools always seemed comfortable in my grip, I'd been helping my pa on jobsites since I was a teen. Keith, (my brother) pussied out and became an accountant, eventually marrying a domineering nasty bitch who controls every aspect of his life, he is a pathetic example of manhood, I wouldn't be surprised if he lets her keep his dick in a cockcage. Whenever we're together as a family my older sister disgusts me because she looks and acts like a slut while my brother is a panty waist personified. Mother and dad are ... well, mother and dad.

With the GI Bill I entered a two-year tech school which promised the opportunity to test for a journeyman's rating upon completion, whether you passed or not was entirely up to you. In my mind this was much faster than a five-year apprenticeship with an electrical firm, if I passed and worked hard, I'd be eligible to test for my Masters in two and a half years after graduating. I passed my test upon graduation and was fortunate enough to work with my dad, they had landed a large contract with a home builder wiring all the homes in a subdivision, seventy-four of them.

It wasn't often that I worked with my dad directly, it was generally one of the other masters, with most of them being older men I got along well, they were there to work and so was I, it was never the older guys that gave me heartburn, it was the younger ones, even some of the younger married guys. At the age of 24 you'd think I would no longer have to put up the sexual innuendo's, the double speaks and suggestive comments left hanging in mid-air. A guy named Vinny, the father of two young kids, had the audacity to tell me he'd like to *break me in* and show me what a real man was like in bed. Little did he know I'd been anything but celibate while in the corps. When I told my dad about Vinny he laughed and told me how to get even at the company picnic coming up in a month. Dad pointed out his wife when I arrived, the rest was left to me. After a beer and a brat, I sidled next to her as she watched her little ones playing in the wading pool.

"Hi, are you Mrs. Waitlen? I'm Earleen, I work with Vinny, maybe he's mentioned my name."

The look I got was less than favorable. "Yes, he's mentioned your name, says you're the hot new apprentice he's teaching."

I started to chuckle and then noticed her tense demeanor. "Mrs. Waitlen, you need to know a few things. I'm not an apprentice, I'm a journeyman just like your husband. He's an ass and has little regard for you or your children, what sort of family man tells a single girl he wants to screw her? One more thing, there is no way I will ever go to bed with anyone I work with, I don't shit where I eat. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you these things, but you need to know."

I figured I'd be getting a piece of her mind, but it was the opposite.

"That son of a bitch. I knew he was thinking of cheating on me if he hasn't already. I know you didn't want to be the one to tell me, but I'm glad you did, now I can deal with this head on. I don't fault you, you're a pretty girl and all, but you shouldn't have to worry about being hit on at work."

We nodded as I walked away. Vinny was no longer on my jobsite after that incident, within six months he wasn't even working for my dad. I'd seen his wife at the gas station once, she smiled and told me he hadn't been unfaithful yet, but she was sure he intended to be before she confronted him with what I said. Dad said they'd moved away to a larger city. By my twenty sixth birthday I was ready to take my masters exam, which I did and passed with some cushion, the test has fifty questions and you have four hours to complete it without any aids. I got 43 right, which was well above the standard you had to achieve.

I'd had a few lovers while in the Marines, nothing long term, a few months of banging pelvises was enough to carry me over for long periods of time. After my discharge it was basically the same, I dressed down all the time, especially at work, when I was horny, I tossed on something inviting and went to the bars looking. The scenario was the same, a couple months of knockin boots would be enough to tide me over for long periods of time. I found that once out of the Marines I preferred older guys, I don't mean fifties-sixties, usually about ten years older than me. They were more assured, not clingy, didn't have mommy issues, had no desire to get too attached most of the time, the bonus being they weren't in a hurry to get off. Love making or simply down and dirty sex with them was an occasion, not a quick hookup. Most of the older guys wanted to make sure I had gotten off at least once before they did, it was an entirely different world from the young ones who only wanted to pump and dump.

My parent's home and business were in Portland Maine. Once I'd passed my master's I began talking to dad about broadening my horizons in other places, thinking I might like to move. He and I had talked about it casually for a few weeks before mother got wind of what I was thinking and being true to her bitchy ways blew up. How could I leave them after all they'd done for me? What an ungrateful child I'd become. When was I going to stop screwing older men, settle down and have some babies? It went on for a half hour before dad finally barked, "Susan, be quiet."

I was pissed as I stood glaring at her. "Thanks ma, you just made up my mind, I'll be moving within the month. Dad you and I can talk tomorrow."

I wanted to slam the door as I left but decided not to, that's what immature people do. I stopped at Whisky Corner for a beer to drown my sorrows, it's also where I met Maurice and decided to let my hair down, telling myself getting laid was what I needed. He was at the far end of the bar nursing a tap as I walked toward him, I noticed he glanced over his shoulder in the other direction, probably wondering what I was headed for, or who. There was no one beyond him and he looked at me puzzled.

"Is this stool taken? If not do you mind if I sit here?" I asked.

"Aint nobody sittin there and I don't see no name on it, sit wherever ya like missy."

I loved his southern drawl and long drawn out words. I extended my hand to shake his, "My names Earleen, most call me Andi. You aren't from around here are you?"

"Figgered that out all by yerself did ja? What is it I can do ya fer?"

I was intrigued by this man, I figured he was late thirties, maybe early forties, no ring on his hand, good looking, he wasn't bulked up but judging by the calloused and muscular hands it was obvious he had a physical job. After shaking his hand, he commented.

"That aint no housewife hand missy, you must be in the trades." I nodded.

His dark brown hair was tied in a ponytail and he sported a short beard. He wore wire rimmed glasses that fit his face well and didn't look out of place. His teeth appeared to be real, but who knows anymore, the real question in my mind was this, *is he any good in bed?* I was in the mood to get fucked and fucked hard, I didn't want to be abused, but I wanted someone who knew what they were doing and wasn't afraid to be assertive within reason. Someone who knew what *they* wanted and wouldn't be afraid to tell me.

What bothered me the most is that he didn't seem drawn to me at all, by now most guys would have come onto me at least two or three times while we played the game. Not this guy, he was polite as he finished his beer ordering another tap for himself and one for me, but he didn't seem all that interested. We chatted for a bit when he looked at me in earnest.

"Lookin round bout this here place I see lotsa young bucks lookin fer some tail, yet here y'all are sittin next to an older feller instead of beddin one of these here studs."

I smiled and slammed the remainder of my beer. "Not looking for a young stud who's too quick on the draw. Thanks for the beer."

As I stood to leave, he lightly grabbed my elbow. "Jist what is it yer lookin fer missy? Cuz I likely got what you need."

I was surprised. I had never met someone like him and frankly was taken aback by his bold comment, being the pushy little bitch I can be I decided to call his bluff.

"Like the song says, I'm looking for a man with a slow hand, someone with a gentle touch, somebody who doesn't come and go in a heated rush. I'm looking for a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it without hurting me. Is that you mister????? What is your name by the way?"

"I got one a them fucked up names like you, I was named after my great granddad. Maurice, the smart ones call me Morrie, the dumb ones who make fun of my name eat my fist. As fer yer other question, ya, I'm yer guy. You live near here or do ya wanna come to my room? I stopped fer the night on muh way back to Tupelo, buried my ma two days ago up in Caribou. Colder'n a witch's tit up there, don't know how folks live in that?"

"Well Morrie, since I like it in my bed we'll go to my place, it's not far from here. Two things, promise you're not an abuser and gonna beat the hell outa me, second, if I say stop, you'll stop."

"Still yer guy Andi, aint no need to be hittin a woman, specially one as purdy as you. As for stoppin, it's yer bed, you set the rules. Now, we gonna fuck or sit her and talk all night?"

As he followed me in his late model pickup, I couldn't stop thinking of our short yet poignant conversation. He told me where he was from, where he'd been, what his name was and until I brought up sex he never hinted he was in for a night of down and dirty rooting. He hustled from his truck to get my car door when we arrived at my apartment complex, then opened doors for me as we made our way to my apartment. I began to wonder if I'd hit the jackpot, a gentleman willing to fuck me silly with no strings attached.

Inside the apartment he didn't jump my bones as a young guy was likely to do, he stood back looking around, perusing pictures and taking in the surroundings. I came from the kitchen with a beer which he politely declined, thankfully I hadn't opened it. He told me he'd had enough beer, what he needed now was a woman with lotsa energy. I hadn't realized how tall he was sitting at the bar, it was now obvious he was over six feet tall, when I inquired, he told me six foot one, close enough to my five foot eight that we'd join together in the middle quite well. I was in a heavy flannel shirt and baggy jeans, the shirt open only a button so I knew he wouldn't have seen any cleavage.

I walked to him, reached my arms around his neck and whispered *kiss me*. His arms went around my waist as our lips locked in a soft sensual manner, not hard and rushed, not mouth half open the first kiss, no tongue shoved down my throat ... it was a soft, affectionate, tender and desirous kiss. As we kissed, he drew me in closer to him, he wasn't grinding or pushing his body tight to mine, pulling back he spoke.

"Was that tender enough missy, I'm hopin so cuz that's the way I'm gonna make love to y'all until yuh tell me yuh need it hard. After that, yer mine, and don't worry, I aint gonna hurt ya, but when y'all tell me yer ready, I am gonna fuck yer ass into the mattress."

This guy was good, the wetness soaked my panties and he had only kissed me, I pushed my hips into him, he smiled, patted my butt and planted his lips on mine again. This time his tongue gently slid across my lips, I didn't hesitate to open my mouth and let our tongues do a slow waltz, it made me even wetter. With his hands on my butt he pulled me tight to the hardness between us, geez he felt big, but then most do until they're let free. Something about him told me he was ALL man in that department, my inner slut meter told me I would be satisfied with what he had to offer.

I pulled back and began unbuttoning my shirt, he put his hands on mine and shook his head as he put my arms to my side and began opening the shirt one slow agonizing button at a time. With each new button he'd pull it out slightly and look inside, groaning and growling with each new revelation, I wanted him to rip it off and suck my tits, but I sensed even then that he was in complete control ... and I loved it. Before he opened the last button, he pulled the shirt out of the waistband, undid the button, opened my shirt completely and bent forward kissing between my breasts as his hands caressed them through my bra.

It wasn't a bra most guys, or gals for that matter, would call sexy and enticing, just an average better-quality bra with some lacy shit along the top and sort of see through cups on the top half. He sure liked it though, I thought his hard calloused hands would feel rough on my skin or get snagged on my soft underwear, not the case, he was smooth as warm butter. Sweeping the shirt backward off my shoulders it slid down my arms and onto the floor, as it landed his hands went under my breasts lifting and gently squeezing, as though he were weighing them.

"I knew you'd have nice tits, that shirt don't show nuthin, but I could tell by the way you was sittin that you'd be big. I gotta say missy, I'm impressed, aint no paddin in that bra, it's all pure tit."

He pulled me in for another slow kiss and with his right hand had my bra open in seconds, as he backed away he told me to take it off. He didn't ask, he told me, I shrugged my shoulders forward and let it slide off my body as he groaned, ever so softly his hands encompassed both breasts, kneading them, stretching them, gently rolling and pulling the nipples at the same time. With his hands now on my shoulders he spun me around, pulled my body into his and cupped my breasts, once again working them, making me tingle from my toes to the crown of my head.

As he kissed my neck and nibbled my ear lobe, he asked what I'd like him to do.

"Play with me, just keep playing with me."

"No missy, ya need to tell me what ya want so old Morrie kin make ya happy."

This was new to me, having to tell a lover what to do, biting my lip I decided to go for it.

"I want you to play with my tits, to suck them, to gently bite my nipples, to leave hickies all along the sides marking me as yours. Is something like that in old Morrie's play book?"

He said nothing as he swept me up into his arms carrying me down the hall to my bedroom, laying me on the bed he reached for my belt buckle and the snap on my jeans. As he tugged at them, he patted my thigh to raise up, with my jeans in a pile on the floor he bent down putting his face directly on my mound. What he did next was another first for me, he pulled the front of my panties out, saw my bush, smiled and said very softly, *nice pussy*. Letting the panties snap back in place he once again put his face on my mound and inhaled deeply through his nostrils, looking at me while he stood, he smiled and told me to take his pants off.

As I was working on that he got rid of his shirt, standing in his underwear he told me to take them off, sliding them down I made sure to pull the elastic out so it didn't catch on the telephone pole between his legs. It wasn't one of those fake porn movie dicks, but it was easily seven inches and fat as a sausage, I couldn't decide in my mind if I wanted it in my mouth or my pussy, he settled my dilemma.

Pushing me backward he positioned himself above me on his hands and knees to my side as he took a nipple into his mouth. He got as much tit flesh into his mouth as possible and sucked hard, drawing my nipple beyond what I ever thought it was capable of doing. On his knees only he caressed my breasts as he sucked, like a baby stimulating his mommy to continue letting the milk down. He kept this up for at least five minutes, straightened, told me to take my panties off and lay down, legs spread, I happily obliged. This guy knew how to seduce, not just hump and dump.

He kissed the inside of my thighs and rose to my hungry kitty, licking the labia, opening them with his tongue and then sucking the lips lightly, sliding his wet mouth up and down as he sucked each lip. When his tongue found my clit, I jumped but that was it, I feared he'd be like other lovers who had no idea what sent me over the moon. Circling my rather small clit with his tongue he figured out the left side was far more sensitive than the rest, he focused all his attention on the left of my clit, to my surprise he must have figured my breasts were the same as he reached up and grabbed my left tit. It wasn't a hard or uncomfortable grab, but enough to let me know he was in charge as he manipulated the mound of flesh on my chest, I smiled to myself as his beard tickled my inner thighs.