Lips Fingers and Toes Toes

Everyone in this story is 18+

Lips, cock, fingers, and toes Toes?

Another story that happened to me in my thirties, long before cell phones and home computers were another world, my high tech was the VCR and pager and home answering machine. I was a hot single for thirty-two years old in the 1980s and was well known as a photographer in the art, music, and theater crowd. I stood six foot two, two hundred and ten pounds, and my long blond hair I kept in a ponytail my blue eyes were my best feature.

I often had weeks where I got to see a play on Monday. Live music with friends on Tuesday, Art gallery opening on Wednesday, or Thursday, my week was always a full calendar. So it was at one of the art openings I met a tall, shapely woman in her late forty's with short hair, and she moved like the air made love to her as she walked.

We talked about her work. She had taken girls-only school books, cut the pages, and painted them, and they looked like a woman's vagina thought-provoking. The rules of what good girls should do were written on the sides of some of the pages, and the letters fell off the page, and the words formed a trail from the book. It was not like any art I had ever seen. My date could hardly look because they were pussy, and we never got the fourth date, but the artist slipped me a card with her number on it. Her name was Carol. She was forty-eight, stood six foot two, and weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. Her hourglass shape was stunning 38 D- 36- 38, and her brown eyes and short spiked tie-die colored hair were quite the looks for 1985.

We met for coffee at what I thought would be halfway between us, a few days later, Carol said she lived close to the art gallery. She lived four blocks from the cafe for coffee, so we both had espresso and liquors to wash down some Biscottis cookies.

Carol says. "If I would keep her company while she stretches canvas on frames.''

Carol walked to the cafe, so she rode home in my van. We got there, and she used a formal dining room to put twenty canvas frames together. But she puts me to work making more coffee and pulls out a bottle of Drambuie that looks thirty years old. She finished her last frame; it was eight pm when we got there. It was one am now.

She sat with me and says. "Thank you. I felt your eyes on me all night. You talk well for a hippie; I was expecting you to stop me and kiss me."

I say. "You never wiggled your cute butt my way. So I figured you get around to it if that's what you wanted.''

So being cute that she wiggled her butt next to me, and I leaned in and kissed her slowly. Just a little heat, my lips were a little dry, so I licked hers just a little to make the warmth of our lips hotter.

She grabs my hand and says, "Do I have to do everything."

I say. "Only the first time you got to write it out on my skin."

Carol puts her breast in my hands, and wow, I love the weight of a breast that fills my hand. So I add a little tongue to our kissing, and she arches her back, and I play with her nipples, and her scent drives me wild.

I say. "Hickey or not."

Not waiting on an answer as I began to make love to her long neck, putting hickeys along the way after twenty minutes of this.

I pick her up by her legs on both sides of me and say. "Dirty table or bedroom?"

Carol says. "Bed, please.''

She is pointing her head towards the stairs. So It had a landing on one flight of stairs. So I got us up to the landing and undid my pants and pulled down her yoga pants, and slipped inside her, pulling out and rubbing her clit man, she was wet. So I did this for a few minutes, and she was pointing her toes and trying to get me in her deeper.

I slid in and picked her up, walking up the stairs and stroking in and out with each step. I got to the second landing and did it slowly to the point she was wiggling her butt. I made her come on the landing of the stairs as I squirted on her tummy after slipping out. I pick her up, sliding outside her lips. We reached her doorway, and I bumped her head but not hard.

I laid you down on the bed and planned on giving her everything I got so we could both come again. But no sooner had I let her fall to the bed that she had pulled me down on the bed, opened up her nightstand, and pulled a condom, and within seconds it was on me, and she was now on top. We fuck like this, as I can see the clock for thirty minutes. Every time I tell her I am getting close, she stops and squeezes me so tight and stops me from coming.

I do come; we come together, and damn, that's good, but she keeps me inside her and slowly rocks back and forth, still kissing and moving my hands to her breasts. I feel myself getting hard again, and she comes again, So it's my turn to flip her off me and stay inside her. I lay on our sides, sliding in her from behind. I came again but stayed inside and slowly rocked back and forth; I got hard again. She loves it, so I get her up on her knees, and we go doggy (that was her favorite; I could make her cum non-stop just doing that), so rocking back and forth as deep as I can, I feel my cock hitting her wall and she comes again. I try, but I can't get there.

She shuttered through two more when she pulled away and got up on her dresser, and I slid back in; man, was she wet. So I am getting close for me to come, so I put her head down on the floor and pussy up against the bed. I got to stand on my toes because we are both six foot two, a bit of a dad body. Pounding into her wetness, I slide a finger inside her ass, and she can feel my finger stroking my hard cock.

She goes nuts fucking me as hard as I fuck her; that's when I slide my other finger in her pussy, pushing my cock even harder against her g-spot. Then, finally, she starts shaking, screaming my name, and a fountain of juice comes out and covers us. I swear some hit my face. I came so hard I lost my ability to stand, and we collapsed beside the bed.

We were covered in sweat and juices, and we grabbed a hot shower and spooned on the bed. Well, that is a sure way for me to get hard again, so I slid my precum-dripping cock across her lips and clit, and did she again pulling me out to cum in her mouth. I grabbed her face and forced my tongue into her mouth to share my cum, and she went nuts. She went back for my cock and straddled my face with her pussy. I ate her two more comes and dribbled another out one for me. But she says between slurps. "God, you made me come harder and more times than her husband had in fourteen years."

So my tongue was getting sore, and I did the two fingers rubbing on her g-spot and using my thumb to tease her engorged clit till she came spraying again like a water fountain. Her pussy had gotten loose, so I tried three fingers. She came again, four fingers again she came. It took some doing, but I had five fingers in her, and I could open and close my hand as it went in up to my wrist. I am fisting a woman whose bed is covered in our sweat and her juices; she screams and shakes for a good twenty minutes. Then, finally, I slowly pull my hand out. She is a wild woman whose eyes show she wants me again.

She pulls my limp, tired cock inside her mouth, and it is more than I can take. I got no cum left, and it tickles sorely. I push her away with my feet, but she keeps trying to get my dick hard. I mean, it is six am. I have been going at it for five hours with lost count of her orgasms, but mine was at six, and my next cum, if it was possible, will be dust. So she was still squirming; I tried to push her away with my feet. Well, my foot starts to slip in her wetness, and she moans like a cat in heat like she was, so I play with her pussy with my toes, my big toe standing in for my cock.

Carol has been coming from any touch, and her moans could raise the dead, and damn if they did not. My boy standing tall she saw that from half-closed eyes and moved to where I could fuck her mouth as she tried to hang on. Stroking my hard cock, Carol slid a wet finger into my ass and my thumb in hers, and her mouth filled with my cock. Her mouth got like ice on my cock as she slipped a second finger into my ass. I came for my seven times in one night. We both were spent; we could not move for almost an hour until we had to pee. We got out of bed, and I asked where the john was so I could pee. It was behind the bed's headboard, as were the bathtub and sink.

We went for a Mexican breakfast and talked about art for two hours. Then, I had to go home and feed my cat, and her ex was bringing her two kids to spend the weekend with her. We both stated that was the best fucking sex We had ever had.

She says. "I had kissed her more that first night than her husband had in fourteen years.''

I could not think of a sadder thing. And after dating OK, it was not dating. It was flat-out fogged every window in the house fucking every possible place and way. We both decided that we were better fucks than we were husband and wife material, so we were fuck buddies for nine years.