Dale's Women

Dale’s Women (Chapter 9)

Kathryn M. Burke

When Lois woke up the next day, she was momentarily disoriented.

Where on earth am I?

She had slept deeply, but the unfamiliar feel of the bed, and the strange furnishings in the room, made her wonder if she was dreaming. Then something else struck her:

Why am I naked?

Turning her head suddenly, she saw Dale lying peacefully asleep next to her.

She had to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent a scream from escaping her. Then the events of the night before came flooding back to her.

Omigod! Could I really have done what I did?

But the wetness between her thighs, and on the sheet, couldn’t be denied.

How could I have let myself go like that? What would Ben have said?

But then she remembered:

Ben isn’t around anymore.

The thought almost made her burst into tears; but, aside from a choking sob, she managed to restrain herself. The small sound nevertheless woke her bedmate, and Dale opened his eyes and turned a benevolent gaze in Lois’s direction. Over her slight protests he took her in his arms.

“How are you this morning?” he whispered in her ear.

“Okay,” she said uneasily.

“Just okay?”

“Fine,” she said. “Really fine. Very good.”

But she didn’t sound it. He held up her face above his own and said, “You sure you’re okay? You’re not mad at me?”

“No, of course not!” she burst out. “Why should I be mad at you?”

“You don’t think I . . . forced you?”

“Don’t be silly. It was fine. You were wonderful.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You—”

But their sweet nothings were interrupted by a loud pounding on the bedroom door. “Say, you two!” Gloria said in a penetrating voice. “Isn’t it time to get up? I’m starving—let’s make breakfast!”

Lois and Dale smiled at each other. He leaped up from the bed to put on a robe. Lois couldn’t help watching his naked backside as he strode over to the other side of the room. But she remained in bed as he covered himself.

“Aren’t you getting up?” he said.

It took her a few moments to say, “Can you find me a robe?”

Dale turned to the closet and fished one out. He knew that a full-length one would be too long for her, so he managed to find a knee-length pink thing that would work pretty well.

“Here,” he said, holding it out.

But she remained in bed. “Can you bring it to me?”

He walked over and placed it on the bed.

“Now can you please turn around?” she said.

Dale smiled at her modesty, but agreed.

When both were dressed, Dale opened the door. Gloria was standing right outside, hand raised as if to knock again.

“There you are!” she cried. “It’s about time.”

“Sorry,” Dale murmured. “I guess we overslept.”

He and Gloria walked downstairs together. Lois followed at a considerable distance, her manner suggesting that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

As they were heading toward the kitchen, Gloria whispered to Dale, “What exactly happened last night? I heard some strange squawking after you went into her room. I thought you said you weren’t going to—”

“I didn’t,” Dale protested. “It’s just that . . . well, she’s a bit inhibited. Very limited experience with—certain matters. So, yes, she did protest a bit at first. But I’m reasonably certain she liked what we did.”

“You’ll have to tell me the full story sometime.”

They all entered the kitchen. Gloria, noisily getting the appropriate pans ready for a lavish breakfast, turned to Lois and said casually, “Have a nice time?”

Lois colored at once and said, “Gloria, please!”

Her friend gave her a wide smile. “No need to be shy. Dale is very . . . skilled.”

Lois turned away, unable to speak. Dale intervened, saying, “Gloria, you’re embarrassing her.”

“I’m sorry,” Gloria said to both Dale and Lois. “I’m just teasing.”

The breakfast was wonderful, and everyone found that they had robust appetites. Afterwards, they sat around the living room, wondering what to do next.

“Let’s spend the day together!” Dale said enthusiastically. He looked keenly at Lois, whom he wished to get to know better—not just physically, but in every way.

“Is that okay, Lois?” Gloria said. “You have any other plans?”

Lois shook her head jerkily.

“We could go to that state park!” Dale chirped.

“Um, no,” Gloria said emphatically. “Not there.”

“Why not?” Dale said in something close to a whine.

“Let’s just not. There are plenty of other places we can go to.”

And so it was decided they would just drive around the area, stopping by at whatever locales struck their fancy. In the course of the day, they visited several antique shops, a nice café for lunch, and sundry other establishments. Dale was right, however, that the warm summer day all but cried out for a stroll in a park or fairground, and they found one not far from Gloria’s house.

In spite of their difference in size and general physique, Gloria managed to find some suitable casual wear for Lois—everything from underwear to shorts to a cotton blouse. Both women looked like the embodiment of health and vigor, and Dale was proud to have these two incredible females at his side.

It was late afternoon, and Gloria said she was a bit tired. She said she wanted a nap, and settled down on the big blanket they had brought for use in the park. Dale and Lois decided to take a little walk along a path through a stretch of dense trees and shrubbery.

They said little, but Dale took Lois’s hand in a gesture that she found inexpressibly touching.

Throughout the day, she had found herself gazing at the man she had slept with. She could still feel his member in her mouth and as it probed her inner recesses. An unbreakable bond had been established. She didn’t really care that Dale was also bedding her best friend: when she was alone with him, it was as if no one else existed.

They sat down on a bench to rest. Without warning Dale came out with a startling statement.

“Your husband is the only man you’ve ever slept with, isn’t that right?”

Lois stared wide-eyed at him, then looked away. “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“When was that?”

“Senior year of college.”

“There was no one before? Not in high school?”

Lois shook her head vigorously. “I was too shy—and the boys didn’t seem to be interested. I don’t have much in the breast department, and that’s all they seemed to care about.”

“Not all men like big breasts.”

“Well, I just wasn’t wild the way the other girls were. They called me a little mouse. I was just—scared. Scared that a boy would hurt me, or get me pregnant, or something. And I went to a big college—the University of Connecticut—where I had trouble making friends of any sort, let alone getting a boyfriend. I was lucky to meet Ben in an honors English class. He was about as shy as I was, and so we kind of clung to each other. I was the first one he’d slept with too. So there you have it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being shy—but sex is meant to create a sense of intimacy with the person you love, and you shouldn’t hold anything back.”

“But so many of the things I’ve heard people do are just . . . icky!”

“Oh, that’s just prejudice. Anyway, you can’t tell if you like them or not unless you try.

Then

you can decide if they’re ‘icky’ or not.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lois said, but hardly sounded convinced.

When they returned to their informal camp, they found Gloria wide awake and putting the blanket and other things away in a big bag.

“Ready to go home?” she said brightly.

“Sure,” Dale said. Lois said nothing.

They had a light dinner at Gloria’s house, and then watched a romantic comedy whose plot they forget the moment the film was over. As they sat on the living-room sofa—Dale in the middle, Gloria and Lois on either side, his arms wrapped protectively around them—it was evident that Lois was getting fidgety.

Gloria felt that the issue of sleeping arrangements—which was no doubt the cause of Lois’s concern—should be addressed bluntly. “So what do we do now?” she said.

Staring at her hands, Lois said almost inaudibly, “Maybe I should go home.”

“Home?” Gloria scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. It’s quite late.” (In fact it wasn’t—only a little past 10 p.m.) “Why don’t you stay another night?”

Still unable to look anyone in the face, Lois said, “I’d rather not.”

Gloria gave her friend a severe frown. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you have fun last night?”

As Lois blushed crimson, Dale intervened. “Gloria, please! If she wants to go home, she should be allowed to.”

Gloria’s glare turned to him. “Listen, you—”

Unexpectedly, Lois turned to whisper something in Dale’s ear. A blush continued to suffuse her face.

“Okay,” Dale said, and then got up. With a gesture of his head, he silently urged Gloria to go to the kitchen for a little conference.

“What’s up with her?” Gloria snapped.

“Calm down, will you?” Dale said sharply. “You’re making her really uncomfortable. You have to understand that what she did last night was, um, not exactly normal for her.”

“I do understand that,” Gloria said, although she showed little sign that she really did. “So what was she saying to you just now?”

It was Dale’s turn to blush a little. “Well, here’s the thing. She seems to think you want me to be with her again—”

“You bet I do! I’m sure there’s a lot more she needs to learn about pleasing a man—and herself.”

“You can say that again. But there’s a problem with that: you.”

“Me? What the hell have I done?”

“You haven’t done anything. It’s just that your mere presence in this house, while we are in the other bedroom, makes her even more inhibited than she is already.”

“So what are you telling me? I should leave my own house so that you two can—”

“No, not exactly. I’m wondering if Lois and I should go to

her

house.”

“Hmmm,” Gloria mused. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. She seems to have made that house into a kind of shrine to her dead husband. I think she’d be even more freaked out if you were there than if you stayed here with her.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. So what do we do?”

“Look, what don’t

I

go to her house for the night? That way you can be here all by yourselves, and you can do whatever you want with her.”

“I’m not going to do ‘whatever I want’! We’ll do whatever

we

want.”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. But this is the simplest way to get me out of the way, if that’s such a big thing for her.”

“You’re sure it doesn’t bother you?”

“Well, yes, it does bother me—but if she’s so fussy, I can give up my house for one night. I’ll come back in the morning, and we can have another big breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me if she’s willing.”

And she was. Lois accepted the plan with enormous relief, actually hugging Gloria and apologizing profusely for kicking her out of her own house. Gloria beamed on her benevolently and ran upstairs to fetch some clothes and toiletries for the night.

Coming down in minutes with a paper bag full of the items, she took the house key from Lois and said, “Toodle-oo! I’ll see you folks in the morning.” And with that, she left the house.

Dale and Lois both seemed a little nervous now that they were alone—like two teenagers out on a first date. Dale walked over to Lois, who was still sitting on the sofa, took her hand, and said, “Shall we go up?”

With an infinitesimal nod, Lois agreed.

They re-entered the master bedroom, and Lois stared at the bed where she had done such extraordinary things the night before. She undressed slowly, knowing that Dale was watching her every move. As she doffed her bra and panties, she turned around and saw that Dale was already naked. She instinctively covered her breasts and delta with her hands.

He went up to her and said, “There’s no need for that. Let me have a look at you.”

He gently pried her hands away. She resisted for a second or two, then resignedly yielded. She kept her eyes to the floor.

She really was quite fetching. A delicate face, flawless pink skin, small but shapely breasts, a nice swell of the hips, fine, strong thighs, nice calves, dainty feet, and a thin patch of dark fur around her groin. Dale’s member unequivocally paid tribute to her appeal.

“You’re so beautiful, Lois,” he said.

“I’m not beautiful,” she said self-deprecatingly.

“I say you are—and at this moment my opinion is the only one that matters.”

That got a nervous giggle out of her, and Dale thought to himself:

You’re even more beautiful when you smile.

“What would you like me to do?” she said.

“Would you like to put me in your mouth?” Dale said.

She nodded absently, suddenly falling to her knees and placing herself in front of Dale as he stood near the bed. Dale hadn’t really meant to have her do that, but she didn’t seem to mind the submissive position.

As before, she took his already hard member with two fingers—thumb and index finger—and put it in her mouth. This time she didn’t have to be told to use her tongue. She worked so avidly that after a while Dale had to stop her.

I’m not sure she’s ready for taking my emission in her mouth.

He lifted her up and guided her to the bed, where he had her lie flat on her back. She expected that he would mount her; but, although Dale did pay a lot of attention to her face and breasts, he presently put a stop to his caresses and said:

“I’d like you to do something for me.”

“Wh-what?” she said nervously.

“I want you to play with yourself until you come.”

The blood drained instantly from her face. “Oh, no . . . I couldn’t do that.”

“Yes, you can,” Dale said emphatically.

You need to get over this phobia of “letting yourself go” in front of a man.

“Please don’t make me,” she whined.

“I’ll never make you do anything,” he said gently. “But I think this will be good for you.”

She just stared up at him. She looked petrified.

“Please, Lois,” he cajoled. “You’ll like it.”

Whimpering as she so often did, she slowly snaked a hand down to her sex. The first contact of her fingers to her labia made her moan softly—whether from pleasure or embarrassment, Dale couldn’t tell—but he noticed that she closed her eyes firmly as she continued to touch herself. Maybe she was trying to convince herself that she was alone; and Dale took pity on her to the extent of lying silently next to her, just watching her at her work while taking in the exquisite sight of her naked form slowly starting to writhe from pleasure.

In a surprisingly short time, Lois seemed to forget about anything except the task at hand. As her fingers became increasingly wet, she stroked herself vigorously and sometimes inserted two fingers deep into herself. She clearly had this procedure down to an exact science; and once she was involved in it, it became the focus of her undivided attention.

As her moaning and mewing gained in volume and frequently, she came out with her patented “Oh! Oh! Oh!” and rubbed herself harder. Then her eyes popped wide open and she let out a high-pitched squeal that punctuated the achievement of her climax. Dale was fascinated to see that she continued to stroke herself gently even as she gave forth sigh after sigh. And now she was looking right at him.

“Did I pass the audition?” she said impishly as she tried to catch her breath.

“With flying colors!” Dale said enthusiastically.

He couldn’t remember when he’d seen anything so stimulating. With a bit of shame he thought:

I’ve turned her into my own live sex video.

But he was not content to watch; he was now so huge that he wasted no time in mounting her and plunging his member into her.

She received him matter-of-factly, as a fitting sequel to her own act of self-pleasuring. Her legs entwined around his, she endured his almost violent pummeling with placid self-assurance. She knew she had aroused him to fever pitch, and she felt that his possession of her was a testimonial to her own feminine power. In some strange way, she felt she had the upper hand in the relationship; and as he pumped her full of his fluid, she accepted the gift of his essence as a tribute properly owed to her.

After a suitable rest, Dale, with Lois draped on top of him, said: “There’s something else we could try.”

“What’s that?” she said. She didn’t seem at all worried about what he would say.

“It’s called rear entry,” he said shyly.

“You mean . . .”

“Yes,” he said, sliding a finger down to the spot he was referring to. “Down here.”

“I see,” she said evenly. In spite of the comfort she now felt with him, Lois was uncertain whether she wanted to try this next step in her sexual tutelage.

“What I am supposed to do?” she said.

“Just lie on your stomach. I’ll do everything else.”

“All right.”

Dale was astounded how easily she was going along with the plan. He swore to himself that he would put a halt to the procedure if Lois felt the least bit of pain or discomfort, physical or psychological. As he reached for the jar of cold cream—now conveniently stored in a drawer in the nightstand—he noticed her eyes widen at the dollop of white stuff on his hands. But she was smiling.

“You’re going to put that on me?” she said with a hint of incredulity.

“Yes,” he said. “It’ll help.”

She made a little cry as the cold substance came into contact with her posterior, but didn’t flinch as his fingers entered that delicate area. As he lay on top of her, his head was cradled next to hers. “You ready?”

She just nodded.

As the tip entered her she let out a gasp and instinctively tightened up. Dale was prepared for this and said softly, “Just relax, dear,” stroking her bottom to encourage her to release her clenched muscles. She was a quick learner and managed to go limp as Dale inserted himself inch by inch into her. But her eyes widened as he did so, as the unusual sensation overcame her.

He made sure not to enter her fully—that would probably have been too much for her. As he began thrusting in and out, he noticed that little moans were proceeding from her. His hands first clutched her breasts; then, as his motions increased in pace, he slipped a hand down to her moist delta, where he mimicked her own actions as he had watched them a little while ago.

Her tight orifice didn’t allow him to linger at the task. As his discharge shot out of him, he was rewarded with the familiar cry that signaled her own orgasm. They both went limp as their paroxysm was over, and in the course of time Dale pulled gently out of her.

Rolling over, he said, “How was that? Was it nice?”

Lois turned her head to him and nodded briskly. “I didn’t think I’d like it—but I did.”

“I’m so pleased.”

“I guess you do that to Gloria.”

“Yes.”

“She likes it?”

“I hope so! I’ve done it often enough.”

“Why do

you

like it?”

That was an unexpected question. “I don’t know,” Dale said ruminatively. “Tighter fit, I guess. But it’s more than just the physical sensation. Somehow I feel more intimate with my partner when I do that. It’s very intense, isn’t it?”

Lois nodded again.

Dale got up from the bed to wash, then returned and folded Lois into his arms.

“Ready for sleep?” he said.

She was slow in responding. “Maybe . . .” she said at last.

It took Dale some seconds to understand the implication of her words. “You’re saying you want . . . more?”

Lois gave him that impish smile again and said, “Maybe.”

Dale looked at her in wonder. Then, making sure to strike while the iron is hot, he said: “Here’s something we can try.”

He lay flat on his back while he urged Lois to squat over him. She picked up the hint quickly. Although she was a bit self-conscious about exposing herself so shamelessly, she wasted no time in inserting him into herself. It took her a little while to learn the proper rhythm for riding a man in this position, but eventually she got the hang of it—and, as Dale gazed upon her magnificent nakedness, she felt justifiable pride in coaxing a third orgasm out of him.