Everyday Screw Witness

This is fourth in a line of stories about having sex in average, everyday settings, with average, every day women. There will be no sequels to any of these, though feedback for this set of stories has been phenomenal! Keep it up!

I was going to take the time and opportunity to apologize to any Jehovah’s Witnesses out there who may… or may not… be offended by this story, but I realized two things: if you’re a Witness, you wouldn't be reading this, and if you're reading these stories, you're probably not going to be offended anyway. It just got in my head what to do to either stop making them come to my door Every… Single… Sunday… at 9 a.m… or I'd make the experience a little more enjoyable for me. Don't forget to vote!

*****

The light knocking on the door woke me up from my sleep. I’d passed out on the couch, my pants were tangled up around my knees, my left shoe was still hugging my foot, the other was God only knew where. My shirt was off, my boxers were on inside out, and my watch was on my wrist upside down with the band twisted. I didn’t feel the soft smoothness of my pillow under my head, but was instead greeted by the coarse fabric of my couch.

It had been one hell of a party.

I about drifted back to sleep, the four-alarm hangover was making my brain throb, stomach turn, and my tongue was cotton. My breath stank; the bathroom had been so far away, but the pillow, or my shirt, or whatever it was, was right under my head; my face was sticky with something resembling popcorn and applesauce. Then I heard it again: a light tapping on the door.

One eye peeled itself open and gazed at the blurry numbers on the digital clock. 9:01. Who the fuck is out at 9:01 on the weekend, coming to my apartment? Then I remembered; it was Sunday, it could only have been her.

She was always so nice, I found it too hard to be rude to her. She knew my car from seeing the pictures while on past visits. She knew after a month of Sundays that I was always home in the morning because I was always out at night. I started to sit up and I looked around at my messy living room.

I shook my head and I stood up, pulling up my pants and walking for the door. My hand hit the knob and her gentle tapping sounded again. I tried to smooth my hair down a little, but it was too wild. I managed to wipe my face clean on something; I saw as it slumped to the floor that it was my beer-soaked shirt. The door was open before I realized I was only half-dressed.

“Good morning Geoffrey, and how…” she said reflexively.

Then she got a good look at me and took a short step back, covering her mouth and taking in a quick gasp. She started to blush a little and her eyes looked me up and down quickly and then locked onto my face. I could tell she was forcing herself to stare there.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to come back a little later?” she blurted out as she turned a deep crimson. It was all one word. Between the hangover and her fast-talking it took me a second to register.

“No, no. Come on in, Diane. I was just waking up,” I said and rubbed my dry eyes. I opened the door wide for her and she came in, albeit apprehensively.

Blue today. She always wore the same cut of suit jacket and a sensible blouse under it, and always she wore a long skirt and matching shoes. She never wore pantyhose and she had good legs from all that walking she did every Sunday. Her brown hair had a little more curl in it today than normal, and her face had a little less make up. All in all, she looked better today in her dark blue suit and light blue blouse than she did in her other colors.

“Are you sure? I mean, I can come back later if this isn’t a good time,” she said all at once, the tension showing in her voice. Her features had softened some from the shock of surprise, but her eyes were still wide and she was still blushing.

“Yeah, come on in, make yourself at home. I apologize for the mess,” I said, waiting for her to step in; she did, but slowly. “I had a late night.”

I saw my other shoe sitting outside neighbor’s door, but decided I’d get it when Diane left. I shut the door and walked for my bathroom.

“Diane, I’m gonna take a quick shower, but feel free to make yourself at home. You know where the coffee pot is and where everything else is. You’re welcome to it, you know that.” Diane only nodded, her eyes returning to normal, her blush diminishing. She was still forcing her eyes to stay on mine, not letting them wander around the room like they normally did. It was like she was resisting the Devil himself. I smiled and that seemed to put her at a little more ease.

My pants and inside-out underwear hit the floor. I saw that I was wearing my left shoe, but I was missing my left sock. ‘Jesus. What the fuck,’ I thought to myself and climbed into the shower. The hot water hit me and started waking me up a little. I started to chuckle as I soaped myself up.

“Probably the first time she’s ever seen a half-naked man on one of her rounds,” I said softly to myself. “From the way she reacted, it was probably the first half-naked man she’s seen in quite a while,” I again as I started rinsing the soap from my arms. “From the way she looked me up and down though, damn. I wonder,” I said softly and soaped up again.

I could picture her walking into the bathroom and pulling the shower curtain aside, letting steam and water spray wash over her. She popped the bottom two buttons on her suit jacket and shouldered it off, all the while she was staring me in the eyes, her eyes filled with lusting hunger.

Her blouse, light blue as it was, picked up enough steam to turn slightly transparent and the fabric started clinging to her tits, showing the flower design bra and her dark nipples under that. She reached behind her unhooked her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, the fabric pooling around her feet. I gave her one good look up and down, my eyes hitting the rapidly moistening fabric of her white cotton panties. I noticed with a good deal of happiness that they were turning transparent as well, though the camel-toed material was a good bit wetter at the junction of her thighs than the shower alone was making it.

She stepped forward, her lithe little frame stepping out her shoes as she came within arms reach. She grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled the fabric apart, spraying buttons around the room and making them ricocheted through the shower. She still said nothing, but her eyes remained on mine.

I could see her breathing quicken and deepen as she pulled the shirt from her body. She unhooked her bra, a front-clasp, and pulled it off both arms at once, pushing her dark nipples out toward me. They were a deep red color, they were puffy, and the nipples were hardening by the second. Her head lowered, her eyes becoming even more predatory, and took another step forward. Now she was in the tub.

Her arm jerked the shower curtain back in place and came to rest on my chest. It softly trailed down ward to my extremely hard cock and she slowly stroked it, playing with the head each time her hand met it. Her eyes stayed on mine, but she sank down, falling slowly to her knees, and she started licking the head of my dick. Her hand still stroked it slowly and she played with my balls with her other hand, rolling them between her fingers like Chinese exercise balls. Soft kisses began being planted on my cock from the base of my shaft to my piss slit, and then she took the whole thing in her mouth. Her eyes never left mine, those mysterious brown eyes looking at me through the mask of water-straightened light brown hair. Slowly, moaning the entire time, she took all of my seven inches down her throat and sucked while her tongue twitched along my length.

I moaned deeply and felt her slowly working my shaft; her tongue quickly teasing while her throat was slowly coaxing me to a long orgasm. I didn’t know whom I had been with at the party, if anyone at all, but I was ready to shoot my load down her throat in a heartbeat. Her lips rode my shaft and her tongue worked my meat with its entirety was making me horny as hell.

My hips started softly sawing back and forth, pushing my cock slowly in and out of her mouth. She sucked tight while I pushed and flicked my head with her tongue as I pulled out. The sounds of the shower were almost drowned out by the seal breaking between her lips and my dick. I wanted this to last forever, but my balls were ready to spray her mouth with everything they could.

“I’m gonna,” I started to moan through deep breaths.

She pulled off my rod and her eyes locked on mine. They were the hungry eyes, not of the soul-saving, pamphlet-toting Diane that I knew, but they were the eyes of a woman over come with lust and wanton desire. They seemed to be turning greener and glazing over at the same time, a combination that made me want to flood her mouth with my jizz even more. She shook her head and started slowly wanking me, her hands rubbing over my head with each stroke and working my balls gingerly but hurriedly.

“Not yet, you’re not,” she hissed and licked up my chest. She playfully bit my nipples as she stood and then she moved around to face the shower wall and grabbed my shampoo. She ran a bead of it the entire length of my meat and started stroking it until it was a thick bubbly lather. I looked her over; her chest was heaving, her nipples hard as diamonds and sticking out deliciously from her puffy nipples.

Her tanned belly was probably really tightly toned a couple years ago, but she was 38 and had a couple of kids; it was still amazing, just not as tight as my usual fuck. The waistband was the only thing that wasn’t completely transparent on her panties. I felt my tongue wet my lips as I took in the dark bush, split by the welcome, smoldering pink flower that had opened at the junction of her thighs. I was wondering what my hands were doing, then I realized they were holding me up. I’d have started massaging her flesh if I wasn’t afraid of falling in the shower.

Her hands left my cock and she grabbed the front of her panties with one hand and scratched a line into the cotton with her index finger on the other. The thin material started ripping and she pulled it open the rest of the way, exposing her pink hole for my eyes.

Diane turned around and braced herself against the wall, letting the water from the showerhead cascade through her hair and down her back. She looked back at me with an almost demonic twinkle in her eye and a wicked smile.

“Fuck me in the ass,” she half-begged, half-commanded. I didn’t need to be told twice. I pulled her panties apart even farther until the only thing holding the two halves in place was the waistband. She pushed against the wall and I put my cock head at her back door.

I’d only fucked one other girl in the ass before, and I was so drunk I couldn’t remember anything about it the next day; but I wasn’t ever going to forget Diane’s heat and tightness. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she takes it up the ass on a regular basis; it was just so smooth going in.

My shampoo coated cock slid in and out of her ass deliciously, savoring every inch of her tight chute. She rocked against me, sliding her ass along my rigid pole and wiggled as her pussy nestled against my balls. The water cascaded between us and we started fucking each other faster; neither one of us saying a word, just moaning and grunting softly.

It wasn’t much longer until I started to tense up; she felt it too and started bouncing and wiggling her ass, teasing my cock to paint her ass with my cum. It didn’t take much coaxing and I started to spray deep inside her, to the glorious tune of both of us moaning in orgasmic bliss.

The second my load let loose, I ran out of hot water.

Two things happened; I had the best self-imposed orgasm of my life, and I fell down. The world went black around me and the last thing I remembered thinking was, “Damn, this water’s cold!”

I came to with Diane standing over me. The water had been shut off and I was still in the tub. Everything sounded distorted but I swear I could hear her calling my name and I felt her hand touch my shoulder.

“Geoff, Geoff, oh no….um….Geoff!” she said in a panic. I started to move and I heard myself moan as I pried my eyes open enough to see what was going on.

My head was ringing like a church bell. My left ankle hurt, and my right wrist was twisted up. More importantly a very red Diane was kneeling over the tub with my naked body open for her to ogle. Her jacket was tossed haphazardly over the closed toilet lid, and her blouse was wet and clinging to her sides from the water splash. It wasn’t quite transparent, but it was nice, revealing the smooth satin of her blue bra against her alabaster skin. I tried sitting up and I felt my cock twitch.

Diane must have seen it; she turned even redder than she had been. I slowly sat up in the tub.

“What happened?” I asked groggily. Sitting up made my worst drunk moment look like a stroll down the boardwalk.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, her eyes drifting to my cock and then forcedly back to my face. “I heard a moan and then a loud thud, and I…” Diane started rambling. “Are you okay?” she blurted out after a long string of incoherent babbling and near sobbing.

“I think so. Why do I look bad?” I asked, my head feeling a little better. I reached up and felt for blood but nothing red came back on my hand after looking at it.

“Um yeah, you look…” she started lowly. Her eyes shot back down to my dick which had gotten itself about three-quarters hard again already. “… um… fine. You look just fine to me,” she said, even lower, almost whispering. My cock twitched again and the blush was slowly fading from her skin, but her breathing was quickening.

“Well,” I said after a few seconds of silence. Her eyes drug up my body to mine. There was something behind the nice pallid demeanor now, something almost feral. “Should we see if my legs work?” I said.

She only nodded as the tip of her tongue slowly wet her barely parted lips. The whole action looked subconscious on her part. I felt my body shiver and a wave of goose bumps started from the top of my head and shot down my arms.

Carefully, I stood up and leaned on Diane. Her hand brushed my erect dick more than once, and more than a casual brush the last time. I leaned on her for support; my ankle was twisted worse than I thought and it felt like I had sprung a knee. The hangover was almost gone; though smashing my head into the tub was still making me dizzy. I stepped out of the tub and started to fall. Diane grabbed me, hugging my unsteady body to her.

I felt two things; my hard dick push itself into her belly and I also felt her hot, hard nipples dig into my bare chest. Her arms wrapped around me and I swear she ground herself into my hips as she tried to “steady” me. After a second she took a step back. Her eyes showed concern and a growing lust as she looked into mine. She let me stand for a second to see if I could manage. I looked her up and down and licked my lips.

Her nipples were standing at full attention. In the scuffle, her top two buttons had become undone and her swelling cleavage was covered in goose bumps. They were rising and falling with the rhythm of her breathing and with the pounding of her heart. Her skirt was still bunched up around the tops of her thighs from squatting over the tub to help me up. Her auburn hair was hanging in wet strands around her head and she pushed them back behind her ears, her eyes never leaving mine, but her head dipping cutely.

“Well, lets see if I can stay up,” I said and started to move toward her. Her once-diminishing blush intensified again and even her ears turned burning red. She took a step back and I took another step forward.

“Looks like it won’t be a problem,” she said, her eyes locked on my bobbing cock. “You need to sit down again though, so you don’t hurt your ankle any more.” I nodded and felt my dick start to soften a little.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Bed room.” She only nodded.

When we got out into the hall, I stumbled again, my left foot slipping on the wet bathroom floor. She caught me and my face was pressed into that wonderfully firm chest, my nose nestled right in between her fleshy tits. I let it linger there for a second, and blew my hot breath on her tits as I tried to stand. I saw her tense and shiver as I stood back up.

“Thanks,” I said.

“My pleasure,” Diane responded breathlessly.

We hobbled to my bed, with Diane hugging my arm to her. My hand gently grazed her mound with every step as we made it to my bed. I flopped down on my back and she looked at me, her eyes occasionally dipping back to my semi-hard pole.

“I need to get going,” she said. “I uh,” she paused, her eyes looking back at my dick as her tongue wet her lips. “Um, I have more… visits… to make today,” she stammered out. I squirmed around on my bed, stretching out and getting comfortable. Her eyes on my meat were making it hard again. Diane’s hand subconsciously stroked her side and a micro-shiver ran through her body.

“Is there anything you need?” she asked after a very long pause. It looked like she was trying to figure out exactly how to leave the situation gracefully. My cock jumped at her words and she hopped on her toes, her eyes still glued to my crotch. “From the kitchen or anything, I mean. Anything to make you more comfortable before I go?”

I only thought for an instant. I was either going to see this woman again or never again at all. Either way, I’d learn to enjoy 9 a.m on Sundays or I’d never have to see them again.

“More comfortable? Well, Diane, you could start by taking your shirt off,” I said calmly, making sure to enunciate every syllable so there was no mistaking what I just said.

Diane’s breathing increased tenfold, and I could see her tits shaking with her heartbeat. The blush left from her face as her shaking hands undid the rest of her buttons. She inched the hem of her shirt out of her skirt and slowly pealed it off her left arm and then her right. It hit the floor by my bed in a puddle of wet fabric.

Diane’s body was better than I had thought. She took care of herself, and for her age, she was in pretty good shape. Her two kids did nothing to hurt that stomach or anything else she had to offer. She had two large freckles on her left side, just across from her belly button and a splashing of them on her abs. Her arms fidgeted at her sides and her breathing slowed down a little, but remained fast and deep.

“Is that making you better?” she asked, a genuine sincerity in her voice.

“A little,” I lied.

“Only a little? I think I can make it better,” she said. Her hands slid around her stomach, her fingers teasing her flesh. Her fingers worked down the side of her skirt and she reached under it, lifting it so I could see the matching electric blue panties for her bra. Her hands went to the sides of her hips and she hooked the material, pushing down.

The hem of her skirt fell before her pussy was revealed to me. She bent straight down taking them off, though, giving me a better view of her delicious tits. She kept bending, her head almost touching her knees, and then she took a step back, slowly standing. Her panties were in her hands like a trophy, which she dropped on top of her wet blouse.

My cock went to full attention and she blatantly licked her lips and moaned her approval. A mischievous smile crossed her face and she stepped closer to the bed. She was within arms reach of my cock and her fingers traced random patterns on my sheets next to my leg.

“Better?” I heard her say.