Coincidence, good fortune, happenstance, they all occur at sometime in most peoples' lives. Whenever something in the good fortune department came my way, I tried to make detailed and lasting mental notes of the circumstances, sights, sounds, smells and the like for pleasant recall at a later time. My relationship with Julie was a great example and I relish remembering out time together. Simply said, Julie was a real character.
When I arrived on her scene, Julie had experienced a short but apparently tempestuous marriage and, following its dissolution, she apparently went on a sexual rampage. She had been a "good girl," educated in parochial schools and imbued with the wisdom of repressive religious instructresses (if there is such a word—but you know who I mean!). Prior to her marriage Julie became adept at fending off suitors for her virginity by learning and administering the fine art of the blowjob. Julie regaled me with great stories of penis sizes and shapes and how she made her boyfriends cum before they could think of getting into her pants.
Julie reveled in manipulating those same suitors into reciprocating; she loved the sense of dominion and control she felt having her pussy licked while screaming obscenities --- it made her feel powerful. Accordingly, Julie entered her marriage with an un-ruptured hymen. Following its dissolution, however, she did whatever the fuck she pleased... so long as it pleased—her.
As is appropriate in these matters, her stats were: then 30 years old: 5'6", about 120 lbs, attractive but not pretty in the classical sense; longish nose, high cheekbones; she had a beautiful sensuous mouth and pouting, un-enhanced lips.
Perhaps her best (facial) feature were forthright, bright blue eyes. She had long, always tussled, from-the-bottle-blond hair. Below her longish neck flowed down to well formed but not large breasts; I loved her very round but compact ass and long, well-muscled legs.
I met Julie at the local grocery store. Spotting her, and then, smooth talker that I was,I smashed my cart into hers, profusely apologized, checked her left hand for a ring and her shopping cart for Pampers.
After recoiling from the collision, Julie smiled, I babbled and somehow we went for a glass of wine and made a date for dinner a few days later. It was at my apartment; I cooked, albeit badly, but the presentation was marginal enough for Julie to overlook the pitiful meal.
At the time we met, Julie was employed as the general manager of a very upscale condo building, 40 stories high, two pools, etc. She loved her job and the frequent "power perks" it afforded her (some very good material to come later).
To my delight, Julie was as sexy as they come (perhaps pun intended).Although we rapidly progressed to mutual manual manipulation. Julie gave my cock a quick lick but would not yet suck it. She was postponing our closing "until she was ready." She simply just loved to drive me nuts.
Then, one Sunday night after
60 Minutes
, right after Andy Rooney's nonsense, Julie grabbed my hand and led me into her bedroom.
"Take off all your clothes and lie on the on the bed."
"NOW!" she scolded.
I was nonplussed but compliant and obliged. I was supine on the bed, my head on a big pillow, iced vodka in my hand, when Julie huskily whispered,
"stretch out and spread your arms and legs, if you promise not to move. I won't tie you up."
I must have looked even more puzzled but then she smiled and said softly,
"We're going to do it now, Michael."
It's always difficult to remember specifically what occurs in any given situation, but that evening is emblazoned in my skull. While focusing her gorgeous blue eyes on my cock, Julie smiled in her sensual but mirthful way and began to slowly strip.
She was wearing a white see-through blouse with dual breast pockets preventing a head on look at her nipples although the darker coloring of her areoles and the protrusion of her nipples could be discerned through the thin fabric. Her skin tight jeans sculpted her slim body.
Julie loved Frank Sinatra. One of his throaty CDs was softly playing as I raptly watched her long manicured fingers begin to unbutton her blouse. Her hips were moving suggestively and in time with Frank's lyrics.
I'm not the most well hung in the world. "Average" seems about right for me as per locker room comparisons over the years. But my dick does get pretty fat when hard and it stands up—kind of promoting a faux largeness.
My cock did its stuff when Julie undid the last button and pulled the blouse tails out of her jeans, I saw the flash of one bare breast, milky white with light brownish areole and a stiffened, erect nipple.
A feeling of warm lust encompassed my loins. Julie smirked as my dick rose, licking her lips while shrugging off her blouse; the movement was tantalizing- the shrugs caused her breasts to sway and jiggle, mesmerizing me.
I started to reach for my dick but Julie scolded, "NO, do I have to tie you down?"
Ruefully, I retracted my arm. Julie was now topless, back to me, peeling her tight jeans over her slim hips, the beautiful orbs of her ass coming into view. She was wearing pink bikini panties, which were riding down her slim hips together with her jeans.
Continuing to move with the music, Julie rolled her jeans further down her rump with panties accompanying, until her bottom was completely in view. She looked over her shoulder, winked and softly laughed.
Pushing the jeans to the floor, Julie kicked them off, fluffed her hair and slowly pirouetted to face me, her hands remaining in her long mane. It was one of those moments when one doesn't know where to look first. I remember looking immediately at the union of Julie's legs. I saw a dark triangular patch of thick but well trimmed pubic hair leading down to a discernible slit with prominent labia on each side.
Roused from my voyeuristic trance by,
"Michael, there's more of me here,"
I looked up to find Julie mimicking a stern school teacher. She cupped her breasts offering her lovely nipples to me while doing a soft, smooth bump and grind, moving with Sinatra's words.
Julie started towards me and hissed,
"Don't move, I'm in charge here."
I started to ask a question and heard her whisper,
"Shush."
Julie was now along side the bed on my right; her loins were inches from my face and I could see a very slight glistening of moisture closest to her slit and the adjoining pubic hair. Julie's woman's scent was wafting in my nostrils as her right leg spread from the left as it rose coming up onto the bed. Her inner pinkness came into view along with the hood of her clitoris. Rapture was mine.