Miss Miller

*Note – This is a work of fiction.

The chicken soup was delicious. I had a tough time getting up the nerve to tell Dawn that I had to go home. It was going on 10:00 pm. The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I had gotten what I wanted and was just going to split.

"What are you worried about? Go, go, go!" she said while shooing me with her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow after work."

She was right. I would be by with office work for her. I took the boxes of sorted coupons and my dirty clothes and headed home.

The next day at work, I must have had a little extra lift to my step, because it only took a few minutes before Carl, the boss's son, asked me if I won the lottery or something.

"Nope, nothing like that," I replied cheerfully.

"Win some money on the games over the weekend?" Carl asked, taking another stab at it.

"Let's just say that things are starting to look up for me." I replied.

"Oh, shit. He got laid," said Dave, the grocery manager. "We're never going to hear the end of it."

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?" I said.

"Why? Did you have to put a bag over her head?" asked Carl, laughing his ass off.

I just walked away. Why is there always an asshole around to spoil things?

I finished work at 4:00 and was knocking at Dawn's door at 4:15. This time I was carrying simple paperwork for her to do. She opened the door, grabbed me by the coat, and yanked me into the house.

"I didn't think I could wait much longer," she said, as she gave me a kiss and almost sucked the air out of my lungs.

"Whew," I said, when she let me breath.

"Sorry," she chuckled. "I'm all better now."

"What did you bring me, today?" Dawn asked.

"The usual crap," I replied, sitting down on the couch.

"You want to stay for dinner?" she asked, with the look of 'better say yes or I'll die'.

I had been mulling this over in my head all day. Do I keep the heat turned up or tone it down a bit to see if she really wanted to pursue this relationship. Obviously she wanted to pursue it. I didn't want her to cook for me again. I had a lot of money burning a hole in my pocket with nothing to spend it on.

"How about we go out?" I asked.

"Ah, aren't you afraid of someone seeing us together? I doubt they'll think we're discussing work. I don't think the people at the store are ready for this kind of thing," she said, plopping her caboose next to me with her boobs jiggling.

"There is a place right across the bridge in Jersey that is really nice, has just about anything you want, and is a little too high class for our co-workers," I said, trying to think of its' name. "Agabetties'! That's the name of it."

"I know the place. Isn't it a little out of our price range?" asked Dawn, a bit concerned.

"Not for one night. You're going to need to wear something better than a sweatshirt, though," I said, pointing to her attire.

"No problem," she said, hopping off the sofa and dashing into her room.

While Dawn changed, I went to the bathroom to clean up a little. I already had a shirt and tie on from work, so I already met the dress requirements for the restaurant.

Thirty minutes later I was still waiting. I could picture her trying on each outfit, looking in the mirror, and moving on to the next. Another thirty minutes later, the door opened and out came Dawn, all made up, with a sexy low cut, burgundy colored dress, that set off her green eyes and blonde hair. She didn't remind me of my mom anymore.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning around so I could get a full look.

"Very nice," I said.

Monday nights must have been slow for Agabetties'. We had the place to ourselves. Looking around, you could tell this was a place of class. Real wood tables, linen lined walls, silver vases with fresh flowers at every table, and a different person for each part of the meal.

I have to tell you, I'm not very sophisticated. I'm part of the beer and football crowd. When the wine guy came out and went through his presentation, he looked genuinely hurt when we ordered Miller beers instead.

We opened our menus. There were about thirty different items on the dinner pages. Most of which I had no idea what they were. No explanation was given as to what was involved in the dish. I almost asked the guy to come back and explain some of them, when I noticed veal parmesan. I knew what that was. I asked Dawn if she knew what she wanted.

"Order something for me," she said, batting her eyes at me, with a big smile on her face.

Oh great. Now I can't ask the guy what this stuff is. It would really make me look stupid.

I looked the menu over again. I stopped at the chicken. I figured that most women like chicken, so it would be a safe bet.

The waiter arrived and asked if we wanted an appetizer. Dawn shook her head.

"We'll pass," I said looking at the price of their shrimp cocktail.

"Are you ready to order dinner?" the waiter asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"And what would you care for, this evening," he turned and asked Dawn.

She pointed to me, and the waiter turned in my direction with his pen poised at his pad.

"The lady would like chicken catha.., cata.., crapa.., cacciatore."

"Ah, yes, an excellent choice, and very well pronounced if I may add," said the waiter, as Dawn put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

"I'll have the veal parmesan," I said quickly.

"Another excellent choice," he said as he wrote it down and walked away.

By now, Dawn was nearly having a fit. She still had her hand over her mouth and was starting to shake with the contained laughter. Finally, with a tear rolling down her cheek, she was able to remove her hand.

"Sorry, that was so funny," she said, starting to laugh all over again.

With that, another guy came to the table and placed bread and butter. The bread was freshly baked. Next, out came the violin guy, playing something I never heard before.

"I take requests. Do you have anything in mind?" he asked, after he finished the song with a flourish.

"How about the Notre Dame fight song?" I asked.

"Yeah, or how about 'Camp Town Races'," asked Dawn, now starting to laugh again.

"I can see that you two don't get out much," replied the virtuoso, as he tucked the violin and bow under his arm and walked out of the room.

Next came another guy with our salads and a serving cart of dressings. After quizzing the guy about every kind, each more exotic than the last, we both chose Italian.

Next, the soup guy brought out two bowls of steaming hot soup.

"What is it?" I asked.

He told me. I nodded knowingly.

I knew as much as before I asked him. It was good though.

Finally, the main course was brought, by yet, another guy. Each meal was served in a silver-serving dish complete with lid. A big ritual was made in the presentation, with the culmination of him removing the lid and revealing the food. When the waiter lifted the lid on mine, all I wanted to ask was "Where's the beef?" I had two silver dollar sized pieces of veal on my plate and some spaghetti. Dawn's meal looked a little better.

When the meal was done, the original waiter returned to ask if we wanted desert. We both shook our heads no.

"I'll return with your check in a moment," he said, walking away.

As we waited, Dawn said, "Are you going home tonight, or can I persuade you to stay over?"

Today, I packed an overnight bag, just in case the situation came up.

"I don't see any reason to go rushing home," I replied.

"Good," she said, running her foot up and down my leg.

The waiter returned. I paid him and gave him a sizable tip, figuring he would split it with the others. I figured wrong. As we headed to the exit, all the other waiters, and the violin guy, were lined up by the door.

"Oh, shit," I said, looking in my nearly empty wallet. "Follow my lead." I said to Dawn.

As we reached the waiters, I began slapping them on the arm, saying, "Good job, good job. Keep up the good work," and we exited the door at nearly a sprint.

As we reached the car, we looked back and saw them staring out the door at us.

"I guess we won't be coming back here anytime soon," chuckled Dawn.

When we returned to Dawn's house, she went to her room to change. I set the overnight bag down on the floor and pulled out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. As I started to undress, I heard Dawn call me. Not from her bedroom, but from the bathroom. Somehow, she got there without me noticing. As I neared the door, I could hear the shower running.

I opened the door and walked in.

From inside the shower, I heard, "I thought a quick shower would do me good," she said, while pressing her large breasts against the frosted glass for effect. They had an effect, all right.

"Want to join me?" she asked while opening the door a little, and giving me the 'come here' motion with her finger.

I jumped in with all the enthusiasm of a kid running after the ice cream truck.

I got my first look at her completely naked. Her creamy white skin was unblemished. Her breasts matched her middle-aged butt, (which actually was kind of cute). Her womanhood was lost in a forest of hair. (Remember, this was the early '70's).

"I hope you like what you see," she said, with grin.

I leaned forward, grabbed two handfuls of boob and kissed her.

"You really like them, don't you?" she asked.

I responded by taking the soap and swirling it around her chest and abdomen. We took turns washing each other. Neither of us touched each other's privates.

At some point, she was turned with her back to me, and I was moving down to wash her thighs. She leaned against the wall with the shower spraying on her head. I washed down to her feet and then back up her inner thighs. As I got close to her womanhood, her legs began to tremble. I soaped up my hand, and reached between her legs. As I gently touched her, she gasped, grabbed my hand and mashed it into her crotch. She nearly lost her balance and slipped. I grabbed her with my other arm and held her tight.

"Thank you," she said, regaining her composure. "God, you do that great!"

"What did I do?" I thought to myself.

She turned the water off, and looked down at my cock. It was hard as a rock and bobbing with my pulse.

"Looks like someone wants a little attention," she said, as she ran her fingers over its' length. "Do you recharge easily, or is once a day pretty much it?"

"I don't think that a problem," I answered. "I'm 18."

"Okay, then lets say we take care of this guy and then get into more advanced stuff after we dry off?" she asked, as she grabbed some lotion and loaded her hands with it. She moved around to my back and started a reach around, crushing her breasts in my back.

"O….," was all I could get out before her hands began a systematic milking of my cock.

She wasn't fooling around this time. Her hands took turns running the length of my cock with a tight, smooth and steady motion.

Talk about doing it great! She soon had me sending rope after rope of spunk against the wall.

"Good pressure!" she said, urging me on.

After I was done, she handed me a towel and said, "Go ahead out and finish drying off while I clean up in here."

It was now about 10:30 and I wasn't sure if it was bedroom time or TV time. She came out of the bathroom, and game me the 'follow me' sign as she entered her bedroom. I followed her in.

It was all done in pink, with small plush animals scattered everywhere, especially the bed. She really was just a little girl at heart.

She tossed the critters, and pulled down the spread. She motioned for me to get in her queen-sized bed. When she got in, she put her arms around me and kissed me for a long time.

"I want to thank you for dinner, tonight," she said, as she released me from the kiss. "No one has ever taken me to a place like that before. I'm glad you ordered for me, because I didn't know what the stuff was on the menu."

"Maybe I should have called the waiter over for both of us," I thought to myself.

We hugged, kissed, and caressed each other in a relaxed manner for quite a while. I had always assumed you jumped in the sack and went for it. This was actually quite nice.

My hand eventually found it's way to her womanhood. She was very wet with excitement. She reached down to me and found that I had recovered and was ready to go.

"Have you reached 'home base' yet, Ben?" she asked, softly.

If I had lied, she would have known it.

"No," I said, feeling stupid.

"Obviously, I'm no virgin," she said. "Would you like me to be your first girl?"

"Yes," I said, clumsily rolling on top of her.

"Ben, wait," she said, pushing me back off. "Did you bring protection?"

"Protection? Oh! No I didn't," I said feeling even more stupid.

"Where you just going to make a baby, here?" she asked, realizing that I was totally clueless in this regard.

"I suppose that I thought you had taken care of that issue," I answered.

"Remember honey, you're the first guy I've been with in a long time. No need for me to keep birth control around with that kind of dry spell," she said, patting my cheek. "You'll have to wait to become a man."

I sighed and rolled over on my back.

"Hey, don't be sad. There are lots of things we can do besides that." She said, cheerfully. "Here's a way to please a woman," she said getting up on her knees. "Works like a charm," she said, as she straddled my face, grabbed my hands, held them to her breasts, and lowered herself on my mouth.

Startled, I didn't know what to do. She wiggled herself around a little bit and finally said, "Just stick your tongue out and start licking that little nub there. Yes! That's it. Now just lick that over and over."

I did what I was told. She rocked herself back and forth over my mouth as I licked as fast as I could. I continued to knead her breasts as she started to moan. She rocked faster and faster, grabbing the headboard to steady herself so I wasn't crushed.

She sucked in her breath, stopped rocking, rammed herself down on my mouth, and cut loose a moan that had to have been heard three houses down. Luckily, I had inhaled myself sensing something going to happen, otherwise I would have blacked out by the time she let me breath. She rolled off me and flopped down on the bed. She blew some blonde hair out of her face and wiped her eyes.

"Wow," was all she could manage to say. She rolled her head to look at me and started laughing. "You are unbelievably good. I'm sorry if I squished you."

I was rubbing my nose; it had taken a beating at the end there. We talked and giggled about stupid things while she recovered. Finally, she said, "I've never had a complaint about pleasing a guy this way."

She started kissing me on the face, and worked her way down my neck, my chest, and finally to my groin.

"I can see that somebody figured out what's coming," she said, in a singsong manner, then giggled.

I tucked a pillow under my head so I could watch the show.

She started kissing at my balls, and worked her way up the shaft to the head.

"This is going to be what's called a 'no-hands' blow job. Just when you think everything is going fine, you're going to cum like a fountain. At least, that's the way it's been explained to me," she said, as she winked at me.

Her tongue started to slide up and down the shaft. It was an incredible feeling. She stopped at the head from time to time, circling it, and tonguing the hole. Eventually, she lowered her mouth on me. She slid her lips up and down as far as she could go, while swirling her tongue continuously. It felt good, but not so good as to make me cum. Or so I thought. She never changed her slow pace. Her lips and tongue continued their gentle assault on me when I suddenly felt a tingle in my balls. "Uh oh, she was right." I thought. The tingle grew in intensity, my balls retracted, and for the second time that night, a load of sperm raced up and out of me. She continued until she had sucked me dry.

Finally she let me out of her mouth with a small plop and asked, "Well, was it as good as advertised?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied, exhausted.

We both slept well that night.

The next day, I reached Dawn's house with her work, and a box of protection. When she answered the door, she looked a little pale.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I went in.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone your initiation for about a week," she said.

It took me a second to figure out what she meant when it hit me.

"No problem," I said. "I like being with you one way or the other."

"Boy, you really are one-of-a-kind," she said, giving me a hug.

The next day, she was looking better.

"How about a movie?" I asked.

"What's playing?" she asked, looking through the workload I had brought over.

"The Towering Inferno," I replied.

"Ohhh, I loooove Steve McQueen," she answered.

The movie had been out for a while by the time we went. We sat in a corner in the back, just in case someone we knew was also there. By the time Robert Wagner was trying to save his hide with a wet towel around his head, Dawn had slid her hand up to my crotch. I looked over at her, and she stared at the screen. She worked my zipper down, and fished out my rapidly expanding manhood. Without saying a word or even acknowledging my presence, she ate popcorn with one hand and jacked me off with the other. It was a good thing that no one was in front of me, because the first shot cleared the back of the seat. She caused me to make quite a mess. She reached into her purse and handed me a couple of tissues, all without ever taking her eyes off the screen.

"Holy shit," I said, taking the tissues and cleaned myself up.

"Shhhh," she said, staring at the screen, grinning.

The next two days came and went without anything notable happening. One night she cooked, the other we went to McDonalds. I went home every night. On Friday, she said she was feeling much better and to bring my 'supplies' if I wanted to be initiated on either Saturday or Sunday.

I gave her an extra day to recuperate and arrived on Sunday.

She already had the championship game on for me, and handed me a beer. It was obvious that she was cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Whatever she was making, it sure smelled good.

"I hope you like lamb," she said, returning to the kitchen.

"So do I," I said to myself.

Soon the game was over and dinner was ready. I have to say, lamb did taste different. It took a minute or two to get used to it, then I chowed in.

"I'm glad you like it. I was getting worried there for a moment," she said.

After dinner, we finished watching the second championship game, setting up The Super Bowl. When it was over, she patted me on the head, and said, "It's time."

I was more nervous than excited. She turned the living room lights out as she went into the bathroom, and I stripped and got into bed. When she came out she was completely naked. She turned the bedroom light out and slipped into the sheets.

We began to kiss and caress each other. After a few minutes, she reached down to find a completely limp me.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

She worked on me for a few more minutes.

Nothing.

"Something has got to be wrong."

"I don't know how to do this," I finally said.

"Afraid you're going to mess up?" she asked.

My silence spoke volumes.

"Look, I've already done this before. It's your first time. You do it anyway you want. We'll worry about making it good down the road. Just enjoy yourself," she said, stroking my face.

That helped a little as I relaxed a bit and she started to get results down below. When I was good and hard, she reached to the nightstand and grabbed one of the condoms I brought. She fitted me with it and then positioned me for my first time.

I looked down at her, she kissed me and told me to relax. She opened her legs, held my cock and gently slid me in. Her womanhood felt like a snug fitting velvet glove. I remained still for a few moments, savoring the feeling for first time.