I would invite myself to dinner at their house, well, just whenever I wanted to. I would call Darlene at her work and tell her I was coming over that night for dinner. She always paused and then with a hint of breathlessness, would simply say, "O.K."
I knew Darlene from a friend of a friend. We met at some party several years ago and she was nice, but not overly attractive. The thing that struck me at the time and what I remembered about her was that her chest fit her proud. You can tell those women who carry themselves with an air of confidence and have the goods to back it up. Darlene was one of those women. At the time she had light brown hair that framed her face in a pixie style. She had clear skin and a face with soft features that invited friendliness and conversation. Her waist was medium and her hips flared like a maturing, young woman. She wore her blue jeans tight.
I lost track of her for a long time – not that I would have remembered to think about her anyway – until we happened to meet again at a charity event for the disabled. During the mixing time we ended up facing each other and recognized each other at the same time. It was one of those times where that memory rushes forward from wherever it was hiding and smacked you right side of your head – you remembered everything about that person, event, or feeling. We both smiled, then laughed, called each other by our first names, and hugged affectionately. It was then I learned that her mother was elderly and wheelchair-bound and that she and her sister had moved back into their childhood home to care for her. Other than being unable to walk, her mother was in good physical health, but her mental faculties were diminishing. We caught each other up from the passage of time and it was then that she asked if I would like to come to their house for dinner some time. I said I would like that, she gave me her number and address, and I said I would call.
Her appearance had changed noticeably since I had last seen her. No longer was her hair in that teenage-going-on-woman style, but it was now shoulder length and framed her face perfectly. Her face was still beautiful, but now her eyes sparkled with the buoyancy and assurance of a confidant young woman. I guessed she was in her late twenties, compared to my early thirties. She still carried her chest splendidly, up high, emphatically stating that they were a prominent asset. Gone were the jeans, replaced with a tight, short skirt which hugged her hips and displayed her legs. She flaunted her sexiness without being offensive.
That night after the meeting ended, she made it a point to seek me out and give me a hug, somewhat tighter than before. With a hint of urgency, she whispered into my ear, "Don't forget to call... Whenever you want."
*****
I called her the first time in the middle of the week and in the middle of the afternoon. I told her I would like to take her up on her offer and come to dinner that night. She replied, "Uh... O.K." I thought about apologizing for the late notice, but she had already hung up.
I arrived at her house just before six and rang the doorbell. The door was answered by this beautiful girl wearing a tight shirt tied off under her chest and the shortest of short shorts. She invited me inside and Darlene was immediately there.
"This is my sister Rachel," she said. "She's about to leave to visit some friends."
I shook Rachel's hand, she made eyes at me, and then left through the back door.
Darlene said, "I would like you to meet my mother." We walked over to where her mother was sitting in her wheelchair in front of the TV.
I shook her hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. You have a nice place here." She looked at me and nodded her head, but didn't say anything.
"Why don't we go into the kitchen and you can help finish preparing dinner?" Darlene asked me. She took my hand and led me through the dining room and into the kitchen. She backed up against the wall and looked at me provocatively. "What would you like to help with?" she asked.
She had on a plain, white blouse tucked into a short, black skirt. The top button of her blouse was undone and her chest was straining against the rest of the buttons. I looked back at her wondering what she had in mind, then thought, "What the hell? The worse that can happen is that I get slapped." I put both my hands on her tits and pushed her hard against the wall.
"Oh, god!" she said and closed her eyes. I leaned in to kiss her and pushed her tits up hard at the same time. She gasped and opened her mouth as I crushed her head against the wall with my lips. I shoved my tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it fast. She put her hands on top of my hands as I began to attack her tits through her blouse. She was moaning into my mouth, trying to push her tits into my hands as I was trying to push them up against the wall. We struggled like that for a while with my mind taking me to areas past her chest. But then thought the brightly lit kitchen may not be the best place to proceed. Gasping for breath, I broke loose and leaned away from her. "We should probably finish dinner," I said.
She was hot and bothered, her own breathing was heavy, and her hair was suddenly unkempt. "O.K., I guess so" she said reluctantly as she bit her bottom lip and brushed her hair behind her ears with both hands.
She gathered herself and directed me in the few things that had to be finished. In a short time, dinner was ready and placed on the table. Darlene went to get her mother and rolled her up to one end of the table. Darlene took a seat on one side and I sat on the other. Dinner was had with pleasant conversation between Darlene and me, with Darlene occasionally speaking to her mother. Her mother was quite able to feed herself without assistance, but spoke no words.
When dinner was finished, Darlene rose and wheeled her mother to her place in front of the TV.
She turned and said, "Come with me." We walked past her mother through the living room and down a hall. She opened the last door on the left and we entered a bedroom. The double bed had an old, metal headboard and a foot board that was about a foot and a half higher than the top of the mattress. A heavy quilt was draped over the foot board. A chest of drawers was against the wall at the end of the bed. Darlene stood me between the bed and the chest and pushed me back against the chest. There was just enough room for her to stand between me and the end of the bed.
She looked at me and began to slowly unbutton her blouse. She pulled her blouse out of her skirt, took it off, and tossed it over her head onto the bed. I could see why the buttons of her blouse were straining when she had it on. Her half-bra barely contained her tits; they were struggling to break free of their constraints. Still looking at me, she reached between her tits, unclasped her bra, and released her tits. She tossed the bra on the bed.
She put her hands on the top of the footboard on each side of her and leaned back against it. Her tits barely moved as they pointed up and away. They were perfect, C cups with large areolas and nipples that looked to be hard as rocks. She thrust her tits out and looked at me. I leaned forward and with my hands on her sides inside her arms, I began an oral assault on her tits. I kissed on the left side and the right side, eventually sucking hard on each nipple while biting gently with my teeth. She was looking toward the ceiling with her eyes closed, and that pushed her chest out even more. Her breathing was ragged and she had this low, moaning sound coming from deep in her throat.
I removed my hands from her sides and grasped her left tit with both hands, squeezing it and pushing the nipple out. It was hard as a rock, red, and wet. I licked it hard and began to suck and bite it even harder. She shuddered a little and said, "Oh, god... So good... So good..."
I moved to her right tit and abused it the same way. Then a continuous stream of "Fuck... Fuck... Fuck..." came from her mouth. I continued this attack for a few minutes and then, with final hard bites of each nipple, I released her tits, stood up, and leaned back against the chest to catch my breath. She stood up, looked at me, and slowly massaged her tits to get feeling back into them. They were red from my onslaught and the nipples were distended, hard, and wet. "You talented bastard!" she said softly, smiling.
Then, saying nothing, she pulled her skirt up to mid-thigh, knelt down, unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my fly, and pulled my jeans and boxers down past my knees. She pushed my hips back against the chest and without removing her hands from my hips took my almost-hard cock into her mouth. She sucked it and swirled her tongue around until I got hard. She backed off and let my cock swing free in front of her face. Without missing a beat, she licked her lips and engulfed it again. While preventing my hips from moving, she began to piston her mouth on my cock, and that low, moaning sound began again from deep in her throat. Her rhythm was deliberate and about every eight or ten stokes, she would deep throat me, burying her nose against my body and holding it for three or four seconds. She would then back off, take a deep breath, and resume sucking.
This continued over and over again. Then she moved her hands, pressing them flat against my lower belly. I could now move my hips and began to rock back and forth matching her movements. I reached down and put my hands on the back of her head with just enough pressure so she knew they were there. At that signal she slowed her strokes, but deepened them, taking more of my cock with each stroke. It was glorious, with her warm mouth and her tongue doing laps all around my cock with each stroke.
"Ugh," I grunted as I began to feel it coming. She looked up at me and I put more pressure on her head. Another two strokes and I could feel it come. I groaned and pulled her head hard against me as I came deep into her throat, spurt after spurt, holding her head tightly against me. After recovering, I slowly relaxed my grip on her head and let it go. She backed off, swallowed hard, and tried to catch her breath. She leaned back on her heels and rested her hands on her legs. After a minute she looked up at me and said, "Thank you."
Again, saying nothing, she sat up on her knees and pulled my pants up, tucked my shirt in, buttoned my fly, and buckled my belt. She stood up and turned around, picked up her bra and put it on, then put her blouse on. She headed for the door and I follower her out, back down the hall, and into the room where her mother was still watching TV.
I bid farewell to her mother who made no indication that she heard me. "Thanks for the dinner. It was delicious," I said to her. I shook hands with Darlene in front of her mother and Darlene walked me to the door. As I was about to say something, Darlene put her index finger on my lips, then moved her finger and gave me a sloppy, wet kiss. Then she turned me around and I left and went home with a smile on my face.