OPENING
As I'm sitting on my favorite bench of this lonely park, elbows over the back's top rail, legs wide open, leaning back, and lifting my face against the brightness of a splendorous spring day, I look back on the events that happened to me one day shortly after I divorced.
That day stays vividly in my memories as I will narrate next, sparing no details.
For the first time in my life, it was me who wanted out of a relationship. Anyone in such a situation will tell you this: while the next stage is not an ideal life and you're all alone, being released from a dead-end relationship feels just right.
In my case, frustrations had run very deep and the sex drought had been way too long. It felt like a total waste of precious years. What was even worse: I hadn't obtained shared custody of our child. I felt hurt and impotent about that situation, but the judge issued against me and my precarious job situation. One weekend every two weeks. Damn system and damn life.
I was screwed. No exit and no hopes. This was it: Feed myself, pay the rent, working just enough not to be fired, biweekly weekend father visits, and periodical meetings at school to follow up with her progress: general meetings for divorced parents, individual reviews, follow-ups, etc.
In that situation, I hurried to get hold of my expenses, make sure recurring payments and taxes were charged to me, new rental, and tons of tedious day by day stuff. I also made a great effort to get familiar with my new neighborhood: shops, bank, bars, etc. A small town environment where everybody knows each other. I could feel the routine creeping up and I knew it would start getting insufferable sooner or later.
Besides all that, I had plenty of time but not in the mood for any socializing. I wanted nothing to do with women anymore. Well, nothing but... I didn't feel focused, felt not at ease often and, the truth, I had my good hours to watch as much porn as I wanted and visit as many streaming sites when my dick craved for attention. I felt restless, horny, and desperate. Wouldn't I had to pay a high rental and pass alimony I'd had gone bankrupt with porn sites subscriptions. You know how these tube and webcamming sites work: escalate from one crave to another because there's always a new popup that captures your attention.
It had been so long I hadn't spent any time just on my own that I didn't know how to. I thought it'd be different. I didn't really like the person I was, but I couldn't help it.
Why couldn't I get laid from time to time? I needed to come badly. Why didn't I have anyone to suck my dick for hours, like in those camming sites? I thought to myself that those people made hardly any money, but then, heck, so I did.
This wasn't the clean start I was looking for and I felt very down most of the time. Until one day, when I guess stars aligned and I passed from talking to hardly anybody to get intimate with the most unexpected group of women I'd ever had thought.
It all had really started some months before. When you are a regular of dirty sites, penis enlargement advertisements just get stuck in your brain. One of the many attempts to relive my sex life involved me following a diet containing Andean maca root pills. I wanted to ejaculate like Peter North and I spent most of my free time masturbating, training my edging skills, and basically following dubious websites advice.
It had been almost a month I was taking the required dose (almost twice, to be honest) and I didn't notice the great improvement I desired or the ones the publicity promised. I was going to give up, as tablets were expensive. But now I believe that the combination of training, supplements, and diet were the perfect ingredients of a one-day-wonder cocktail.
SHE DELIVERED
My sleeping schedule was very erratic and, to make things worse, I work on shifts and schedule changes usually affect my mood. I remember that day woke up pretty beaten.
I had a meeting with the Deputy Head at school. Since they discovered that the percentage of divorced parents cases wasn't negligible anymore, keeping track of broken marriage children performance became a priority.
7:50AM and the doorbell rang. "What the..." I thought to myself.
I have to confess I was still in briefs and all bare chested. I scratched my butt and opened to a slim well stacked lady in a driving uniform and a corporate cap who appeared in front of me with a package and a receipt to sign.
It was surely one of my supplement purchases conveniently hidden inside a cardboard box. These courier companies are the worst... they outsource third parties that have to work the extra mile to be able to fulfill their service agreements, so they appear at your door any day at any time, literally.
When she handled me the page to sign and I could see her face down the cap visor, I don't think she recognized me but I knew her. I had seen her at the school entrance when I was still able to take my kid everyday and if anything remarkable at first sight, I had noticed she always dressed very combining. Even when she wore a tracking suit, she looked as if she was going to some sort of big occasion. She usually walked her boy alone and occasionally did it with a much taller guy. They two really looked alike, clearly siblings.
There were some sort of Slavic looks about her. Sultry lips and silky hair. She usually wore bras too small. I had noticed that double-tit effect small bras do when she walked fast and hers bounced joyfully beneath her jersey.
She called the elevator and waited outside when I was done with the signing. I should have closed the door but I couldn't: she looked astounding: she had turned sideways and her butt protruded tightly packed in her uniform. I was leaning towards the frame of my door and found the courage to tell her.
"I have a package for you too if you want an exchange."
She heard but said nothing, and immediately I felt bad that admiring her looks I had sounded so rude. The comment had come out from very deep inside me. I think I got conscious right then that I was half naked but I felt really conflicted. It was I-had-to-say-it vs I-had-to-be-polite.
"I'm very sorry," and continued. "This is embarrassing. Please ignore. I'm such a jerk."
The tense situation was broken by the elevator door opening. She breathed heavily with her eyes closed and it closed without her moving. It was awkward. Then she turned towards me and entered home.
I closed the door and, as soon as I turned around, she jumped over me throwing both of us against it. She hugged me wildly, kissed me sticking her tongue deep inside my mouth, and felt me up all over my chest and arms while she rubbed her spongy tits against me. She got on her knees and pulled my undies down. In no time she took me in her mouth and boobed back and forth my swollen tip giving it a bright texture due to her sloppy slurping.
I leaned down to fondle her breasts. She then pulled her jersey up without removing it, just passing it behind her back and leaving an evocative view of her cleavage. I placed my hands on her sides between her boobs and bra and gave them a good squeeze. Then I moved then softly in front of her caressing her hard nipples. She herself didn't stop working my pole with earnest.
