Penis-Hungry

I was officially a mess. Or my life was, that is. At the age of 24, I was burned out.

After I had graduated from college two years ago, I had married a guy I went to school with. He was a nice guy, but we were both too young, both of us not willing to clip our wings just yet. More than that, since the age of 8, I had been in beauty pageants. I was now officially sick of pageants, but didn't know any other way to make money. I had earned a Bachelor's degree in Literature, but was unsure of what to do with it, other than I found it interesting. In short, I was a confused kid and therefore moved back home.

I was a Southern Belle in every form of the word and my parents, in the deep south, welcomed me back home with open arms. I was not really sure what I should do. Should I get married again? Well, there was no one I wanted to marry. I knew I had to find some way to make a living, so I started entering pageants again, if for nothing more, then at least something to do while I figured myself out.

A recent pageant I had been in had opened me up to a world of modeling that I found much more comfortable than pageantry. I was much more comfortable with modeling, as I had no camera shyness, but I did have stage fright. I was prone to modeling in one-piece swimsuits, conservative two-piece swimsuits, underwear and night gowns - some of which I got to keep. I was offered bikini modeling jobs, and offers sometimes even wearing less, but I turned them down out of pride.

One evening, after coming home from a date, I plopped down on the couch and started watching television. My Mom sat in her usual armchair like an old lady, though she was only approaching 50. She began to chat about my father.

"Well, you know your father," my mother said. "He'll give you the shirt off of his back if you're his friend. You remember me telling you about Lou? Lou Scheffler?

"What?" I asked, pulling my attention from the TV to my mother. "Lou Who?"

"He's a friend of your father. Anyway, he's just coming off a rough patch with his wife - or ex-wife - and he's moving down here for a change of pace. We're letting him move in with us temporarily."

"What?" I asked her, sitting up. "You're letting a stranger move in the house?"

"No darling, I've met him several times before, and your father knows him well. He's going through a rough divorce like you, and he's trying to get back on his feet. His old shrew of a wife nearly took all his money."

"My divorce wasn't rough, Mom. I was okay with it. But why didn't you ask me before you made any decisions? I mean, I live here too, I have a say in the matter."

"Darling, it's no big deal," mother said. "He'll only being staying with us for a short while until he finds a place of his own down here and gets a job."

"Well, where will he sleep?" I asked.

"We're going to give him the guestroom."

I could feel my temper rise at first, but then I just took pity on the man and decided it would be a good idea if he moved in. He was struggling, just like so many people. From the rest of our conversation I learned that he had been working in the auto-factory industry that had laid so many of it's devoted workers off. I also learned he was in his early 50's. I imagined him rather old, but maybe attractive. My dating life had not been as smooth as it once was; in other words, sex - by no choice of my own - had not been as often an activity as I would've liked. I was becoming more open to the idea. I just hope he wouldn't cramp my style.

The guest room was on the first floor down the hallway, right below my room. The day had come for Lou to move in. I was glad we were helping a fellow citizen in his time of need, but mainly I just wanted to see if he was cute. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), that day I had to go to work and could not help Lou move in.

In the photo shoot that day, I was prancing around in conservative two-piece swimsuits or one piece swimsuits on the beach. The photographer, at first, wanted very rigid, posed shots. After a while, my muscles got sore from all the stillness. He could sense my energy and encouraged me to use it. I jumped and did handstands in the sand, tried to do ballerina moves while he clicked away. And it was back to more rigid, posed shots. By the time I got home, I was looking forward to a bath to ease my stiffness.

After seeing an unfamiliar car in the driveway, I walked in the house, eager to meet my new stranger. My mother called for me from the kitchen.

"Darling! Come in here, I want you to meet someone."

I walked into the kitchen to find my Mom and my stranger, my Mom cleaning up the dining room table and my stranger at the sink doing dishes.

"Hi Mom...Hello Lou," I said to him extending my hand.

He turned around completely and smiled at me. "Hello Leah, nice to meet you."

I grinned. "Nice to meet you, too. Did I miss dinner?"

"Yes," my mother cut in. "But I saved you your portion. It's in the fridge, you can heat it up later - or now - if you want to."

"Thanks Mom. Yeah, later. I have to take a bath, my back hurts."

I went upstairs and went into my bedroom. It was a very pretty, large room with a connecting bathroom. I started to fill up the tub for myself and undress. I gathered up all the things I needed for my bath - stuff that wouldn't fit on the shower shelves - like shaving cream and my hairbrush. It was much easier to comb through my locks when they were wet. Less tangles and so forth when it dried.

I had a slim body with curves and had a short stature of 5'1" with long, fluffy, wavy red hair and green eyes. Though I was a grown woman, I had often been told I looked "teenage-ish." I may have only been a B-cup, but a B can be quite big and fleshy, in my own personal opinion, as was in my case.

I eased in the tub and thought about our new guest. I sighed when I thought of him. He stood a slightly short height, maybe 5'7" or so. His waist was a little thick, but it made his frame and chest look bigger and manlier. His hair was graying and his eyes were a powdery-blue. He had a friendly look to him, like he was a kind man. Very handsome.

I sat up in the bath and started to lather up my legs with shaving cream for a shave. I started to shave along the shinbone, which is the most sensitive part of leg for me, and I let out a yelp. I had just cut myself.

"Ow!"

Now, it wasn't a horror-film scream, just a little yelp, but at that moment Lou busted into the bathroom. In a bubble-bath you can cover your body up some. But this was an ol' run-of-the-mill bath. There's nothing that could be hid except by a few strategically-placed suds.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I looked at him, wide-eyed, appalled. "Get out!" I squealed, throwing my hairbrush at him.

He shielded his face, but the brush still managed to clonk him in the head. He covered his head further for more protection and hurriedly left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I was flabbergasted. What was wrong with this pervert? I got out of the tub, perturbed, and put on my robe. I drained the tub and went into my bedroom. I shut my bedroom door and noticed a basket of my laundry on the bed that hadn't been there before. Then a light bulb came over my head. Lou had just been dropping off my laundry and with him being so close by, he heard my yelp, and thought I had been hurt, and burst into the bathroom. It was the only explanation I could come up with.

I had a habit of doing my laundry and then letting it sit in the dryer and generally causing irritation among my family members. Lou was probably trying to do his laundry and needed to clear out the machine, so he did so, bringing my clothes up to my room. Still, I was annoyed. I didn't like the thought of a stranger seeing my naked body.

I sat at my vanity. It had been my grandmother's. It had been a great big mirror and lights circling it. It had been restored when it was given to me. I sat down in my silk robe and started to dry my hair. First combing through the mess and then drying it with a blow-dryer. I was almost finished when I heard something behind me. I shut off the dryer and listened again. There was a knock at my door.

"Come in," I said, turning behind me to see who it was. It was Lou.

"Hi," he said awkwardly. "May I come in?"

"Yes," I said. "Sit down," I said motioning to a chair fairly near to where I was sitting. "Do you mind if I finish drying my hair first?"

"No, not at all," he said.

I turned the hair dryer back on and continued to dry my hair. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed him sitting in the chair and looking around my room. It was a very pretty room, mostly whites and pale pinks. It was my sanctuary and I made my bed every morning - "the shrine of love," I called it - even though, lately, no one had been using it besides me.

As I noticed him observing my room, my heart sank. I couldn't be mad at him anymore. It was an honest mistake. It undoubtedly was going to be difficult to live with a man, a man besides my Dad or my ex-husband. It was at this moment, thus far, I found myself more attracted to him than ever. He seemed to me a desperate man. He was a man who, I knew, was going to swallow his pride and apologize.

Setting down my blow-dryer, I faced him in my chair and smiled at him. "So what is it I can do for you?"

He leaned forward in the chair, his hands stroking one another. "Well, Leah, I just wanted to come up to apologize. I didn't mean to walk in on you like that. I-I heard you yelp and I thought you were hurt. I guess I overreacted. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said gently. "I know it was just an accident."

"It's been a while since I lived with a woman," he admitted. "My divorce was finalized not long ago, but she and I had been living apart for almost two years."

"I'm sorry," I said.

There was a silence between us and I picked up my hairbrush and started to brush my hair. It was, I must say, beautiful when it was dry and fluffy such as it was now. Lou changed the subject.

We had a long discussion. We talked about what brought me back home, about my job as a model. We talked about what brought him here in the deep south, his search - that would start tomorrow - for a new job. It was a very normal, everyday conversation, yet I found it more stimulating when our conversation drifted slightly into a more interesting subject. He spoke to me.

"So Leah," he said, with a renewed interested, his finger on his chin. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I laughed. "No, I don't. I would like one though," I said in my Southern drawl. "They're a hobby."

He chuckled. "Just as boy-crazy as when you were a girl, huh?"

I shook my head and looked at him. "No. Man-crazy."

Again, he chuckled that deep, sexy laugh. "My, Really?"

I nodded. "Mm hmm," I said proudly, continuing to brush my hair.

The air became electric. The air always becomes erotic when two people recognize an attraction and recognize that they may be available to each other. My silk robe ended a few inches above my knees, and I could see his sexy, blue eyes wandering on my soft skin. My thighs were soft as butter and I could tell he wanted to touch them. I would peek over at him. He was wearing dark slacks and a white shirt, the top button open so I could see just a slight amount of chest hair. In his slacks I could've sworn I saw what I wanted to see. I considered myself very - as my ex-husband said - "penis-hungry." We each knew of each other's glances and I found my heart pounding in such an erotic moment. My perky breasts were raising and lowering at a quicker speed with the heavy breathing and excitement I was feeling.

I grew frustrated with my long, thick hair, trying to get all the knots out. He came over to me and took the hairbrush from my hand. Kneeling behind me, he took my hair as a whole and eased it behind my shoulders and began to brush through it very gently and delicately. I was very irritable with hair, wanting to get each knot out yesterday. But Lou was very gentle, very sensual about it. Looking in the mirror, I could see him behind me. Sometimes he focused on my locks, other times I saw his velvet glance on my naked neck and on the side of my face. He was very seductive and suggestive about the whole thing. His narrowed, lowered blue eyes, as they were on my neck and face, was some of the most sensual looks I had seen in a long time. They screamed sex - yet it his actions suggested restrained heat, something I would masturbate to that night. The whole of those moments moved like liquid. I found him, now, to be completely beautiful, desirable. His face was older, tired, as was to be expected at his age, but still so handsome and appealing. I saw the differences in our looks. Me with my wide, long-lashed, green eyes, his that had seen everything, things that I didn't even know existed. I was now completely on his side. He had me in his corner. After he was finished, he handed me my brush and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Good night, Leah" he said softly and left.

"Good night," I returned in a meek, astonished voice, a voice maybe too low for him to hear.

Over the next few weeks, Lou and I hardly saw each other during the day. I was usually out on some job, and he was very busy looking for work.

But we usually saw each other in the evenings. Sometimes the four of us would sit down as a family and eat, other times it would just be Lou and I. It wasn't unusual for us, after my evening bath, for the two of us to sit in my room, myself at my vanity and Lou sitting in what I called, "his chair."

"His chair" was a very comfortable lounge chair, something like you'd find in a living room. Particularly in those conversations when we were in my bedroom, our talk became more personal, about our relationships, and he often told me how pretty I was. One night, it was taken to the next level while my parents had gone to a movie.

"There. Now that's done," I said, setting my hairbrush down.

"You have quite a mop on your head," he said jokingly. "Here let me feel."

He came over and jokingly started to rustle up my hair with his hands. I ducked away from him, trying to shoo him away, unsuccessfully and playfully trying to push him away. I was giggling my high, tinkling laugh and he was laughing in his deep, manly chuckle.

"No!" I shrieked. "I just brushed it!"

He chuckled in a lower, seductive tone. He grabbed my shoulders "C'mere."

He dragged my body out of my chair and pulled me with him as he settled back into his chair and I settled on his lap, sitting sideways. My petite hands rested themselves on his heaving chest. Our laughs were dying with each little minute. In his arms like that, I felt so small, so feminine. He held me in his arms, his eyes lowered and narrowing in on my lips. I looked up at him, wide-eyed, excited. Our lips seemed to come together at the same time. We kissed passionately. My little moans were so helpless and weak against all he offered. And he offered much, I could tell; beneath my bottom I felt a large penis. I wanted it immediately.

"God, Leah," he moaned, stroking my hair. "You're beautiful."

"Lou," I said, giggling. "I can feel you under me."

"Oh!" he said, throwing his head back. "It'd be hard not to," he said. We continued to kiss.

Our kisses were very special to me. It was an older male teaching, guiding a young girl. They were not rough kisses, they were gentle, but passionate, hungry.

Our making out progressed quickly. We stroked each other's hair, whispering to each other in between kisses. He pulled my legs apart so that I would be straddling his lap. With him reclining back the way he was and myself hovered over him, I was very much the one in charge. I rested my forearms on his chest, kissing him passionately, now myself very in control of our playtime. Wearing a baggy, silk bathrobe it was easy for Lou to ease it off of me. He admired my bathed, glowing nakedness.

"It's beautiful, even more beautiful than the first time I saw it," he joked.

Naked on his lap, with him fully-clothed, I shoved him playfully and he chuckled. He was endless with his charm, the way he said my skin was so smooth and silky, and complimenting my thighs and my breasts. While he was looking at my bare pussy, I felt for his hard cock. When I found it, I pressed my bareness against him, starting to dry-hump him.

"Oh Baby," he moaned. "You have such a sweet little pussy. It's so small and pink."

"Come on," I said, getting up off his lap and holding his hands, I pulled him over to my bed.

I lied on the bed on my side, my hand supporting my head. My legs moved restlessly as I watched him undress. He unbuttoned his shirt and took his it off and while I had been wet before, I could feel a whole new gush of desire flooding out of me. His chest was beautiful. Slightly aged, but handsome, manly, large. Then, my heart raced when he took his slacks off. As he removed each article of clothing, his gaze never left my eyes. His eyes were lowered onto me and ready for me. But my gaze shifted endlessly. I looked at his face and his body and back and forth. But I was completely concentrated when he started to lower his boxers. I let out a small gasp when I saw his cock.

He was the largest man I had ever seen. He was long and thick. Completely erect, the purple/blue color of it made it look almost tender or sore. I could see the head of it glistening. He must've been 8 or 9 inches. I licked my lips excitedly. I wanted to see if I could take this much man. I knew I could.

I laid on my back and held my arms out for him. He growled when he sunk his body into me and I giggled. It was so good to feel a man again, feel our skin together.

"Are you ready, Baby?" he asked me.

"I'm ready," I said.

He got on his knees on the bed. Holding my hips, he pulled me closer to him and also so that my pussy could be fucked at a better angle. Very gently, he sunk his largeness into me. I could feel myself stretch. My pussy was still very tight, but experienced, and it wasn't long before I could feel him thrashing into me, my feet rested on his shoulders on either side of his head. With every inward stroke I could feel myself squeal and with each inward stroke he let out a grunt. We were both using each other and it felt so good.

"God, I'm not going to last long," he moaned.

"Mmm," I teased, giggling. I knew he was attracted to my youth. "Just pound it, Lou. I know you got it in you."

"Damn," he smiled. "No, you got it in you, Baby." He paused. "You're tight, Baby, are you feeling alright?"

"Mmm, oh yes, Lou. I'm alright, I'm very good."

"Fuck, yes, you are," he said, speeding his pace even faster.

I had a most delicious habit during sex. My bed had seen many lovers and they all loved this habit, and I did as well. As Lou fucked me in his adult, illicit way, I curled my fingers and slipped my thumb into my mouth and started to suck it. I had never had group sex and I sometimes felt the need to fill up my mouth when a cock was in me.

"Oh God," he moaned, throwing his head back. "Oh, I'm a goner. You just love to suck, don't you, Baby?"

I nodded.

I loved the way he fucked me. He did so in such a passionate, sexy way. He was in control and that was it - and I loved it that way. We were panting and breathing heavily. This is what we had wanted since the first night. He banged me hard, so hard that the headboard was banging into the wall. The sound of our slapping skin worked as a further aphrodisiac.

When I felt him stop, I knew what was going to happen, and my pussy hugged his cock several times, gushing in orgasm. And I felt him gush into me. It was a glorious moment. We both moaned as we felt our insides spill out. We moaned and sighed as we felt that release finally come out.

He slipped outside of me very softly and lied next to me. I cuddled next to him. Our bodies were both covered in sweat. His age - and the way he looked his age - turned me on so much. I loved his grey hairs and his tired face.