A Journey with Julie
Hopefully, you may have read (or perhaps skimmed)
Introduction to Julie
. She is described in that narrative as is our initial "coming together." If it's not a great imposition, a short review of the first part of that saga might enrich one's reading of this offering.
The Interview
As is often the case, Julie and I became more trusting in the sexual sense; that is to say, we answered each other's questions and attempted to satisfy our mutual curiosities about what we did (and were doing) with others. Julie had a very rich portfolio considering that she had then been divorced less then two years.
There is something voyeuristic (aurelistic?) in listening to the escapades of a woman you're involved with—I guess that's why there are so many guys online who want to watch someone fuck their wives. That's enough of my alleged intellectualism.
I asked Julie about her youth, her job and her "current events." She seemed to relish answering and disclosing stuff that turned me on. As a generous, sensitive guy, I'll try to share some of Julie's repertoire.
Julie exhibited only a mild curiosity about my dalliances, mostly relating to the sordid and erotic stuff between me and my ex-wife and other women I had seen since my divorce. But although she made inquiry and politely listened, it was with the air of someone awaiting her turn to get to the real important, juicy stuff.
She became very animated when she revealed to me about how she teased men during work (as an upscale property manager) and those she met by chance. At her job, interviewing prospective lifeguards for summer pool work at her primo condo building (two pools) was a marvelous example.
Julie loved the springtime because that was when young college guys would apply for summer jobs as lifeguards. The job was easy, the tenants and guests wealthy and the pay was good. As told to me by Julie, the applicant would show up for his scheduled interview often unaware that Julie required an "in uniform" dialogue.
Julie had gorgeous legs. On interview days, she always wore very sheer panty hose, no panties and a skirt with a substantial slit up the side(s). Her desk was up against a wall in a smallish office; she had to swing around to face her visitor who would be sitting on a much lower lounge chair ( subservient to her).Julie always kept several pair of the uniform briefs furnished to the condo's lifeguards. Female applicants were only considered by Julie if forced upon her by residents' clout. You get the picture.
Julie told me of a very handsome, well built, tall applicant, who was, charitably speaking, of almost average intelligence. The day he appeared was shortly after he turned nineteen.
The young man was nicely dressed but did not bring a swimming suit. Julie informed him that each candidate had to appear in suitable gear for a Polaroid photo to present to the board. Julie brought the young man out of his unprepared funk by presenting him with a pair of the orange briefs; she told him to change and return.
When the boy re-entered Julie's office (wearing only the briefs), Julie had positioned herself in her chair with the slit of her skirt agape showing panty hose well past the center of her shapely thighs. The top two buttons of her blouse were open, exposing the upper portion of her shapely breasts. Polaroid camera in her hands, she motioned the lad to stand opposite her.
Julie then did what she does best. She nonchalantly turned reaching behind her to her desk, spreading her legs and riding her up her skirt still higher. Her chair back reclined as she tuned her torso lifting her legs and giving the youth a direct view of her panty-less crotch; she knew the dark matted pubic hair of her mons was visible through the sheer panty hose.
Julie held the position, ostensibly looking for a paper behind her; then, she abruptly turned back to see the lad agape, staring directly up her skirt.
To her delight, the candidate's rather large cock was clearly outlined pointing to its right pushing on the thin fabric of the briefs.
Of course Julie made him pose several different ways often innocently brushing her hand against his hard-on. She also bent over to flaunt her cleavage, her face coming perilously close to his cock.
At the end of the interview, Julie innocently pulled one knee up to her chest, feigning concentration on the merits of the young man's candidacy. She knew, and was turned on knowing the boy while had a straight-on view of her mound, now very moist. The applicant, unknowingly, had slightly stained his briefs--just alongside the head of his dick was a small spot on the orange fabric, his raging hard-on pushing against the briefs.
The interview over, Julie dismissed the lad. She waited a few moments then quietly followed him into the (unisex) washroom. He was in the nearest stall, the briefs removed, his long, rigid cock up against his lower abdomen. Julie noted his huge balls encased in their hairless sac.
The boy's cock bobbed up and down as he frantically tried to rub out the pre-cum stains from the briefs. Julie pretended that she had not seen him while making him of her presence. Continuing to ignore the boy, Julie muttered loud enough for him to hear,
"Damn, these were expensive hose!"
She had removed her skirt and placed it on the vanity. While looking in the mirror, Julie slowly began to roll down her pantyhose. As she reached her ankles she stepped out of them and bent over to pick up them up. Her back to the boy, Julie knew the lad could see her unclad ass and pussy lips.
Now naked from the waist down, she bunched up the pantyhose and strode over to her right mumbling in an aggravated tone,
"Into the garbage you go."
Still watching the candidate in the mirror, she moved to the sink, bent over and splashed water on her hands, and as though an afterthought, she sprinkled some water on her beautiful pussy, making sure her protruding labia were refreshed. She turned looking over her shoulder at her backside in the mirror now exhibiting her glistening crotch to the boy, full on and unobstructed.
Leisurely, turning back to face the mirror, she dabbed at her face with paper towels; moving to her groin, she tamped down the dampness while deliciously stimulating her mound. Her eyes caught the lad in the mirror stroking his cock, moisture on its purplish head.
Julie bent over to pick up her skirt again granting the boy another look at her round ass and slit. She saw the lad between her legs; he was still furiously massaging his long shaft but now his other hand was fondling his balls; he obviously approaching climax.
Standing up, Julie turned on her heel and fully faced the young man. Not realizing he'd been "caught," the boy continued his rapid stroking. Oblivious, he groaned; a thin ribbon of semen spurted from his cock. More jism seeped out of his dick as he finally made eye contact with Julie.
The boy blushed a deep red and mumbled,
"Oh fuck, I'm dead."
Julie, using her school teacher demeanor, scolded him:
"What are you doing; were you looking at me?"
He slumped, then grabbed his clothes and started to bolt. Julie moderating her tone to a throaty chuckle, told him,
"You've got the job."
It should be noted that during the time Julie was telling me that story she was absentmindedly stroking my cock while lightly touching her mound. She looked at me and smirked.
Sighing contentedly in her remembrance, Julie slowly rolled over on top of me and took my hard-on and inserted it into her pussy. She jokingly ordered,
"Don't move or I'll fire
you
!"
Julie began thrusting herself on my cock and reached between her thighs to her mons. I watched her tweak her pink clit with two manicured fingers. Her up- and- down action on my cock coupled with the visual sight of her hard nippled breasts jiggling and busy fingers were all I could take. I experienced that wondrous pleasure of impending release, my balls tightened as I shot my semen into her.
Unaware of my climax, Julie's eyes remained closed but her fingers increased their speed, rapidly stroking her clitoris. Thank goodness my cock stayed relatively hard because she kept at it for few minutes, her moans increasing in volume. I was getting turned on again gawking at the ballet of her digits moving in her now soaked and shiny pubic hair. Julie gasped in a guttural voice,
"Oh, yesssss."
She slumped forward onto my chest and almost immediately fell asleep (and
they
talk about us guys!).
Later, during a post-coital dialogue, and as an apparent afterthought, Julie asked me if I thought she should have fucked the poor kid or at least made him eat her. Before I could respond to her rhetorical question, Julie exclaimed,
"It was just a thought; he was only a kid!"
This digression serves only to illustrate Julie's love of sexual tension- that electric energy which turned her on. In part, it was because of that incident that I decided to ask Julie if she wanted to accompany me on a bar association boondoggle to the south of France and Monaco, I did and she accepted.
The Journey
It was a stifling August afternoon when we were to depart on a chartered flight to Nice. I had lots of office shit to attend to in the limo (special occasion). Enroute to the airport, Julie languorously stretched her long sinuous legs and, without preamble, reached under her white voile sleeveless shirt and removed her wispy lace bra. Dropping my cell (and disconnecting my secretary), I gaped through her arm hole at the now visible curve of her left breast seeing just the hint of its beige areole.
Julie smiled affectionately, fluttered her eyelids and looked at me,
"I bet I could kick your ass in court without saying a word."
