An Evening with Shirley

A month before summer started, I broke my arm while working construction; the ER doctors told me that I needed to have surgery, and that I would be convalescing for 2-3 months.

To make things worse, my girlfriend dumped me 2 weeks after the operation.

The summer of '16 was turning out to be spectacular...

Audiobooks, internet videos, and beer helped me get through my days; but I changed up the routine to pass my evenings: I found myself people-watching from the stoop of my building for a few hours most nights.

A steady stream of people walked past me on their way home each night from the train station, which was on the corner of the block.

Continuous entertainment.

I was friendly with several—waving hello, smiling, or exchanging some innocuous comments about the weather: "Gorgeous night, no?," or, "Safe getting home."

Some were very attractive women; and it was quite nice to enjoy a quick, flirtatious glance or smile as they went on their way.

Alas, these encounters remained innocuous—a pleasant way to wind down an evening.

Generally, I left the stoop around 8 PM, and spent the remainder of my night reading until I fell asleep.

One July evening, while I sipped a cold brew from my stoop, I heard a loud creaking sound to my left.

As I looked in the direction of the creak, I saw an older Chinese woman discarding trash into the bins near the stoop of her building.

The woman appeared to be in her late 50s; her hair was curly and dyed red, almost shoulder length; tall and slender—with small breasts that barely pushed her pajama top away from her chest—she looked sullen, though cute in her pajamas.

We made eye contact as she lifted her attention from the trash bins to her front door.

I had been sitting on the stoop each night for over a month, but I had not seen her previously.

(In NY, you could be someone's neighbor for years, and never meet them).

A smile formed on her face, and her eye-contact transformed into an intense stare.

I looked away first; when I returned my glance to her after a few seconds, I saw that she was still smiling and staring.

I felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I waved hello, as I was unsure about what I should do.

She returned my wave, and then disappeared into the foyer of her building, the front door closing slowly behind her with a loud creak.

This woman had injected a curious excitement into my evening...and into my cock, which was rock hard. I could barely make out the shape of her figure through her billowy pajamas, yet I had a massive tent in my pants.

Hell, I could feel pre-cum leaking from my cock!

(Having been dumped left me a horny mess).

When I thought about it, though, I realized that her unflinching stare was shot through with sadness and sensuality—it was unsettling and captivating all at once.

I ran some water and added Epsom salt to the tub once inside.

My head was still spinning from the encounter with my mysterious neighbor as I removed my clothes and eased into the tub.

Admittedly, no woman had ever looked at me so desirously: it felt like she would have devoured me if given the chance.

My hard-on hadn't abated; it was protruding from the water like a light-house.

I closed my eyes, and started stroking my cock—slow even strokes from the base to the head, while I rubbed my perineum.

In my mind's eye, I could see her black, hungry eyes and her mischievous smile.

I continued stroking my cock, increasing the speed and pressure of my strokes until I shot thick ropes of cum onto my stomach and chest.

If the thought of this woman's stare and smile could make me shoot ropes, what might come of an actual encounter with her...?...I had to know.

The following night, I resumed my routine; I parked myself on the stoop, distractedly acknowledging the foot-traffic from the train station.

Instead I was focused on monitoring the creaking door, searching for signs of my new friend.

However, she did not return that night—or the next several nights.

I began to think she was a figment of my lonely, sex obsessed mind, especially since I spent every subsequent night masturbating to fantasies of her before falling asleep.

After a week, though, I saw her again; except she was not alone this time.

A pickup pulled into the driveway of her building that Saturday evening.

She jumped out of the front passenger seat, and started for the door when she spotted me in her periphery.

Startled at the sight of me, she smiled, winked, and then hurriedly entered the building.

Seconds later, a short Chinese man exited the driver's side of the pickup, and followed her inside.

I assumed they were a couple—likely a married couple.

Naively, I found myself surprised that she would be flirting with me.

I didn't think married, middle-aged Chinese women were capable of such naughtiness.

But after consulting a few message boards and articles, I learned that Chinese women were cheating on their husbands with more regularity.

Apparently, many were neglected by their husbands, who were either no longer horny in middle-age; or who preferred someone else to their wives.

Encouraged and emboldened by my new knowledge, I was determined to find a way to sleep with her.

A few more days passed before I saw her again—this time, I ran into her at the supermarket.

While walking down the meat aisle, I saw a familiar sight: a few steps ahead of me was a tall, slender, red headed woman fondling a package of sausages.

She was wearing tight jeans, which accentuated her small butt; and she was bra-less under a white shirt, her nipples rock hard from the cool air of the meat freezer.

I took a few steps nearer until I saw her profile and confirmed that it was my neighbor.

I stepped closer until I brushed against her.

She swung around and started to apologize, but stopped when she realized it was me.

We both smiled, our eyes locking.

The same intensity was in her eyes, and I could feel lust rising in my body.

She said hello, introducing herself as, "Shirley."

I replied, "Omar, nice to meet you."

"Yes" was her response, as her eyes looked back and forth from my eyes to my lips.

"When are your free?," I asked.

"He is going back to China for a visit in 2 weeks; then I am free for one month."

"Good. Take my #. Text me when you are ready."

"Ok," Shirley said with a smile, her eyes piercing me deeply.

She walked away slowly, almost wiggling her little butt to tease me along the way.

We wound up facing each other at our respective cashiers during checkout.

Shirley eye-fucked me as I fumbled with change, and struggled to pay for my 12 pack. Our cashiers could sense the tension, and they shared a snicker to themselves.

Shirley winked at me before leaving, wiggling her cute ass out the door as she left.

I exited the store literally seconds later, but she was gone.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

I was so preoccupied with thoughts of her over the next several days that I had difficulty completing basic tasks.

I was so intrigued by the prospect of sleeping with this married woman.

I had not been too keen on that sort of thing before, but Shirley intrigued me.

As I thought about her, my mind returned to her intense stare—she looked through me whenever we made eye contact.

She had the look of a hungry lioness in heat, and I was ready to offer myself as a sacrifice for her pleasure.

I managed to distract myself with beer and sports the last week before her husband was supposed to leave for his trip.

Late one evening, I heard people speaking loudly in the street.

When I looked out the window, I saw Shirley's husband wave good bye in the direction of the creaking door as he entered a cab; he was likely on his way to the airport, and I was closer to bedding his hungry wife.

My heart started pounding at the thought of it; blood rushed to my cock, and I was instantly hard.

However, I didn't want to jerkoff—I had been saving up since she said he was leaving soon. I wanted to shoot a nice load for her when we met.

I sat on the couch and practiced some deep breathing to lower my heart rate and calm my mind.

And it was working too until the couch vibrated; it was my cell.

Slowly I opened my eyes, reached for the phone, and unlocked it.

There was a short text from an unknown sender on my screen: "He's gone. Come over now."

I responded: "10 minutes," and she replied, "good."

I jumped off the couch and headed for the shower.

I washed up and then walked outside.

Now in a daze from thoughts of penetrating Shirley, I realized I didn't have any condoms.

I sent her a quick text asking if she did, and she simply replied, "the door is open, go to 2R."

I smiled nervously to myself as I headed towards the creaking door to her building.

Sure enough, it creaked loudly as I opened it.

I winced at the sound, but this was it—put up or shut up time, so to speak.

I started ascending the steps to 2R once inside the building.

My heart was practically beating out of my chest, and I had a tremendous bulge in my crotch.

But I composed myself at the top step before knocking on the door to 2R.

Midway through the third knock, I heard the locks being undone, and I saw the knob to the door turning.

The door opened slowly to reveal Shirley standing there, her hair wet, and a towel loosely draped across her otherwise nude torso.

She wore that mischievous smile and intense stare of hers too, and a pair of pink panties.

We stood there gazing into each other's eyes for a few seconds in a state of disbelief. Was this happening?

Finally, Shirley broke the silence, "Come inside, Omar."

I stepped into the apartment and she closed the door behind us.

Then Shirley walked toward me, threw her arms around my neck, and collapsed onto me, resting her head on my chest.

She lifted her face off my chest and our lips locked into a tight kiss.

I lowered my hands to her ass, while she pressed her crotch against my bulge.

We stopped to look into each other's eyes briefly, and with a smile she said, "you are very aroused, huh?," referring to my cock.

I laughed and said, "yes."

Then I grabbed ahold of her face, resting my palm on her chin as I parted her lips with my thumb, which she sucked up into her small mouth.

I let her suck my thumb for a bit until I pulled it out of her mouth and replaced it with my tongue, which she sucked hungrily.

We must have spent 10 minutes standing there sucking each other's tongues, feeling up each other's bodies, before I picked her up and carried her to the couch.

I positioned her close to the edge of the couch cushion, and separated her legs to reveal her moistened pink panties.

I leaned toward her chest to suck and nibble on her small, saggy breasts.

Her nipples hardened instantly in my mouth as she moaned; lowering my hand to her mound, I pushed her panties aside, and slid two fingers into her soaking wet cunt.

Shirley started to grind against my fingers and hand, while I continued working on her small, but lovely breasts.

Her breath hastened as I increased the speed and pressure of my fingers.

I started to rub her clit with my thumb while I continued finger banging her; she bucked and squirmed with delight, her thin, powerful legs almost crushing my arm and hands as they pulled me into her.

I managed to scoop her up in my arms while keeping my fingers in her now saturated pussy.

I carried her to the bed, and took her panties off.

My fingers were covered in her pussy juice, so I licked them clean, and then tongue kissed her.

Shirley went delirious with the sent and taste of her own cunt juice on my lips and tongue.

She grabbed my now free hands and lifted them to her breasts. I took the hint and started pinching her very erect nipples.

The slight sensations of pain she felt from having her nipples pinched made her shake with pleasure.

Shirley broke our kiss and said plainly, "eat me now."

I started kissing down her neck; now her chest and stomach; and finally her mound.

I flit my tongue at her outer lips, teasing her; but she reached her hand forward, grabbed my head, and pushed her crotch towards my face.

She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it. I obliged.

I started sucking, lightly biting, and licking her clit, while fingering her hole. Her juices started flowing quickly.

I added a second finger to her cunt and a free finger to her asshole.

This seemed to drive her crazy, as she started to moan a deep guttural moan the deeper my fingers penetrated her pussy and ass.

I had her clit and Gspot in a perfect pinch with my tongue and fingers when she started convulsing.

The moan grew louder when suddenly she lurched forward and pulled my hands from her just as she started squirting.

If I didn't know better, I would have thought she was in the middle of a demonic possession, between her primal moans, and the way her body contorted and convulsed as she came.

I let her rest for a few minutes before even saying anything.

Gently, I glided my finger tips along her thighs when I saw that she was starting to calm, though her body, still in a state of extreme sensitivity, shuddered at my slightest touch.

Shirley grabbed my right hand with both of hers and kissed it; then she placed it on her chest near her heart, and started to cry.

I hugged her close to me and whispered, "what's wrong?"

Shirley responded between sobs, "he does not pleasure me any more; sometimes I don't even feel alive."

I gently kissed her lips and hugged her again.

Soon her breathing slowed, her tears dried, and she had that intense stare in her eyes once more.

Now Shirley directed me to stand near the side of the bed, while she sat on the edge of it facing my waist.

"My turn," she said with a smile, as she unbuckled my belt and pulled it free from the pant loops.

Next my pants button and zipper came undone; I stepped out of my pants as they dropped to the floor.

Throbbing, my aching cock strained against the material of my boxer-briefs, pointing at Shirley like a giant finger.

I had leaked quite a bit of pre-cum, which left a puzzle piece shaped stain near the top of my boxer-briefs.

Shirley gripped my boxers with her left and right hands, pulled downwards, until I stepped out of them.

A string of pre-cum ran from my waist to the cock slit.

Shirley pinched it free with her index finger and thumb; she held it there, raising it to her mouth, and then rubbed it on her lips like balm.

Unexpectedly, she jumped off the bed, threw her arms around my neck, and pulled herself upwards to my mouth.

She pressed her lips to mine, smearing the pre-cum balm on my lips.

I could feel her tongue probing, and I separated my lips so that she could French me.

Turns out she was a little kinky—she got a kick out of kissing me with pre-cum stained lips.

We continued kissing as Shirley cupped my balls and stroked my cock.

Pre-cum started to leak from my cock, and she used this as lube to continue stroking me off.

Slowly, I felt myself succumbing to her hands; sensing this, Shirley told me to lay on the bed on my back.

As I did, she got onto the bed herself; crawling on her hands and knees, she positioned herself in between my legs with her head just over my cock.

Shirley slightly parted her lips, allowing a string of spit to leak out towards the tip of my cock; however, she retracted it to her mouth once it made contact with my dick slit.

A huge smile spread over my mouth—this woman was incredibly sexy and seductive. I was surprised I hadn't already cum just from her teasing.

Shirley returned my smile, and then she spit a huge glob on my cock head, which she grabbed in her right hand.

Forming a ring with the index finger and thumb of her right hand, she dragged the glob down the length of my shaft, lubricating it along the way.

Her left hand occupied itself with massaging circles clockwise into my taint, gently applying more pressure with each turn.

I let my head fall backwards on the pillow, but Shirley pinched my foreskin, prompting me to shoot a glance at her.

"Do not look away," she said with a smile on her face.

Normally, I was not the submissive one during sex, but I wanted so badly to please and obey her for some reason; I maintained eye-contact as she directed.

Shirley then formed her lips into a pouty kiss, which she placed on the tip of my cock. Her tongue shot out of her mouth and swirled around my cock head, as she sucked my cock into her small mouth an inch at a time.

I could feel my cock head hitting the back of her throat now; the whole length of my shaft could not fit in her mouth or throat, so she continued to stroke my shaft with her right hand and massage my taint with her left.

Soon there was spit leaking out of both sides of her mouth; and a gagging sounded started to fill her throat.

At this point, I could feel the cum boiling in my balls, and slowly rising up my shaft.

She stopped suddenly and said, "enter me."

Breathless and on the verge of coming, I asked her to grab a condom.

Shirley laughed gruffly, and plainly said, "No." She scooted up onto my legs and squatted over my member before grabbing it with her right hand, and impairing herself on it.

For a second, I entertained the idea of complaining that I was so close to cuming, and that we didn't have condoms; but I thought the better of it, as Shirley started to ride me furiously.

She leaned forward and dug her nails into my chest, grabbing my pecks to steady herself while she rode me. Her nails drew blood, but I didn't care.

I tried grabbing at her hips for leverage, but she slapped me across the face, and then swatted my hands away from her.

She was in control—I was there merely for her to get off...

The pace of her grinding was incredible: she bounced herself so hard up and down on my shaft that I thought she was hellbent on poking a hole through her own cervix.

Her hips started grinding in a circular motion, while her legs dug into my sides, and her cunt clamped my cock like a vice.

The moan escaped from her again—deep, guttural, animal like; she was close, as was I.

Seconds later, she let out a scream, as she started to convulse; my cock was clenched so tightly I thought it would be wrenched off by her pussy.

Then I came: I could feel rope after thick, hot rope spurting deep into her, coating her cervix, and slowly leaking out of her, and dripping down my balls.

Shirley collapsed onto me; again she started sobbing. I embraced her, letting her emotions work their way through and out of her system.

Within a few minutes, she apologized, and then explained her reaction: "you make me feel like a woman; a woman needs to feel her man's cum inside her; he has not cum in me for years."

I kissed her tenderly on her mouth, and said, "his loss."

She smiled a deep, satisfied smile, and then scooted off my cock.

Sitting there between my legs, she let some of the cream pie leak out into her cupped hands, which she then lifted to her mouth.

She has kinky streak in her, and I was loving every minute of it.

After she had done this a few times, she crawled on her hands and knees to my mouth, and opened wide—I was cum-swapping my own cum with her.

And to be honest, this made me hard as hell.

I felt a mixture of emotions, then: confusion, anger, arousal, anxiety, etc.; but a deep connectedness too.

Shirley and I had both been abandoned by our partners in our respective relationships; all we desired was a human connection—a human connection that was so human, it bordered on primal.

Perhaps we had looked in the wrong places for that type of connection.