Flea Maret of Lust - Sheila Quicie

"Hey there sport."

"Sheila, you're back!"

"Aw, did ya miss me? I might just shit my pants with pleasure."

Sheila was the proprietor of Stall 137, and no, she was not a Park Avenue debutante. She was a little younger than old as hell, brassy, bold and never took crap off of anyone. Me, I was a college aged kid just learning how to wipe my ass when I met Sheila while buying comic books from her Stall. One day I stared too long at her big tits, she confronted me, and then she fucked me. Things got a little Russ Meyer after that, but you can catch up for yourself. The stories are there, read 'em. They're good. Oh, and all this stuff took place in the 80's, back when people let their own lives be the Influencer.

After stating she was glad to see me, Sheila kept smoking her Benson and Hedges 100's while looking me up and down. I returned the ogle. She was wearing tight green polyester pants, a low cut flowered blouse and a green polyester jacket that matched the pants. That was dressed up for Sheila. Her dyed blonde hair was sprayed up tall and wide, and her blue mascaraed eyes twinkled with a wicked promise she always fulfilled.

"Get in here." She said, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out with her toe. She pulled down the garage door behind me as I entered, and turned on the Fishnet Covered Ladies Leg Lamp from 'A Christmas Story' that she kept on her sales counter. "Get your pants off.", she said as she took off her jacket. " I need a good fucking. And we can't mess up my hair, I just had it done." Sheila always said the sweetest things. My eyes eagerly watched her take off her blouse and reveal those fantastically large tits, which she always packed into a bra a size too small. Her bra was red and lacy, that showed more of her tits than usual.

"New bra?" I asked, taking my jeans and shorts off and tossing them on the loveseat.

"Shut up." She looked a little embarrassed, I think. It wasn't an emotion I had ever seen her have, so I couldn't be sure. She stripped off her panties and put her hands on the tall Barstool and bent over, her wide ass facing me. "Come on, John, get that dick in me before I kick you out and get another comic book nerd to fuck me." She waved her ass at me and those womanly hips called out to my cock. I got close to her and she turned around to look at me, her bright red mouth hanging open, her eyes needy, her hands gripping the back of the barstool tightly. Without telling her, I fell to my knees and buried my face in her pussy while grabbing her ass tightly so she couldn't pull away. She bucked a little in surprise, but didn't stop me. I lapped at her clit until she got wet, and then stood back up to fuck her. I grabbed her ass tighter and slid my cock all the way in. "Oh, Hell yeah, that's it. Give Sheila a good ole' fucking, John." I started to do just that, fucking that pussy from behind and watching her ample asscheeks jiggle with every stroke.

Her pale back was gorgeous, especially with her bra's stripe of red lace across just under her shoulder blades. Her big semi-beehive blonde hair moving up and down to the rhythm of my fucking turned me on as well. Sheila wasn't a noisy lover, unlike the other women I'd been fucking lately, but for her that meant she was enjoying it. If I started to fuck her wrong, she would tell me right away.

"Gimmie some slow long strokes, Baby. Slow and long for a little." She hissed. As I did the first stroke like that it seemed to take forever as I sank deeper and deeper into her pussy, and pulling out seemed to take just as long. It felt great! Each long slide into her pussy and back out again was a journey of pleasure, and tortuous to my rock hard cock that just wanted to fuck her like a piston.

"That's enough, fuck me hard and fast now. Come on Sport! Get that pussy!" I unleashed my fuck lust on her and my cock exulted in it's license. I was grunting like an animal, my fingers digging into her buttocks, kneading them, massaging them as I damn near lost control of myself while banging her dripping pussy. She stiffened up a bit, like she was close to cumming, so I pushed extra hard into her, getting as deep as I could go.

"Oh fuck..." Was all she got out as she trembled and bucked once, twice, and three times back at me, almost knocking me over. Gasping for air, she turned over and hauled herself into the chair. "Come on now, Sport, gimmie that man cum I need." She lit one of her long cigarettes and put it between her lipstick stained teeth while she spread her legs, hooking her feet into the barstool's metal supports. Her elbows were resting on the chair, which made her whole body spread open to me. And you know what? No, she wasn't a Playboy centerfold by any stretch of the imagination. She had a bit of a belly, and wrinkles on her face. But looking at this Flea Market Queen; red bra, blue mascaraed, bottle-blonde, chain smoking and spreading her legs for me, I began to understand the difference between 'Pretty" and 'Beautiful'. Sheila was beautiful.

I got close and slid my cock along the front of her pussy, teasing her.

She smiled. "You playing with me, Sport? Damn, looks like you've been getting some practice while Sheila was gone."

"Hey, you weren't around. What's a guy to do?" I poked a little harder at her clit with the tip of my cock.

"Oh! There you go." Her eyebrows arched a bit and she blew a long steam of smoke from her pursed lips. "Naw, it's a good thing to get experience." Her lips grew an evil smile as she reached to her bra and unclasped it from the center. The bra almost sprung away as her huge tits popped out. Her nipples were long and dark, with large dark areolas around them. Almost unconsciously, my cock stopped teasing her clit and found it's way into her pussy, filling it right away.

"Yeah! That's my baby! You like looking ar Sheila's big titties? Do ya?"

"Oh god yes!" I said, fucking her like a zombie, my eyes glued to her breasts. "Can I . . . put my mouth on them?"

"No." I stifled a groan of disappointment, but she saw it on my face, and laughed. "You are a greedy thing aren't you?" She started running her red painted fingernails all across her tits and nipples, letting her cigarette hang from the side of her mouth, it was so damn nasty! She totally knew how to drive me crazy! I was her mindless fuck doll, her willing toy. My mouth was hanging open like I was an imbecile as I fucked her on her barstool. She grabbed each of her nipples between her fingers and began to pull on them gently, and then somehow she was able to blow two thin streams of smoke from her nose across each of her tits. I came right away, making stupid gakking noises and trembling uncontrollably. I almost fell forward on her, but Sheila put her hand on my chest and stood me back up.

"Unh-unh Sport, you'll mess up my hair. Go cop a squat on the love seat, and don't get any cum or pussy water on those magazines, they're vintage Saturday Evening Posts." I collapsed and she got her clothes back on, and finished another cigarette waiting for me to get dressed. By the time I had collected myself, she was eager to open back up and get me gone.

"Well, welcome back, Sheila.", I said as she pulled open the garage door, letting in the full sunshine of the afternoon.

"Thanks, Sport. Hey, tomorrow I got some old Epic Comics coming in. They go fast." She turned her back to me and started sorting a pile of old belt buckles. That meant she was done with me, so, I walked away. After all, it was a big Flea Market, and I could use a few new comics, and maybe a new/old shirt. I melted into the crowded aisles, smiling to myself and feeling warm all over.