First North American Serial Rights
Dave and Jenna's Naked Day
by Zapperz
I was dreaming a dream of ten years previous, a time
long
before my present reality.
It was 1976, and I was still a civilian living at home, lying naked in bed in my attic room, getting a
really good
blowjob.
Wendy was naked too, on all fours and straddling me, humping her wet pussy on my left calf, holding my cock in both fists, sliding her sweet mouth up and down, sucking energetically at the two or so inches protruding from her two-fisted grip. I twined my fingers into her curly Afro, moaning as her sucking got
really
good to me.
She answered my moans with little whimpers, humping my calf a little faster, the tickly bubble inside my loins growing and growing. I was going to explode in her mouth, she'd swallow every drop and I'd still be hard and we'd both want
more....
Wendy took one fist away and slid her fingers between her legs, getting them good and slick. Then she pushed two of those slick fingers into my ass, finding my prostate and massaging until the combo of her mouth and fingers made that big tickly come-bubble
pop
.
I woke up all at once to see Jenna's sweet mouth working on me, short chestnut pixie curls bouncing, her own moaning O-face as
she
humped my calf.
It was
her
fingers inside me as I cried out, jacked my hips up and blasted off in
her
mouth.... not Wendy's. And it was
her
crying out around me, coming from sucking me off....
not
Wendy.
When I stopped coming, she stopped sucking, sliding up to kiss me; I tasted myself in her mouth before she scampered away to get a sudsy washcloth to clean us. It was fucking
awesome
.
My Seiko said it was a little past one in the afternoon, and I noticed a pile of our boots and uniforms by the bed. We'd been so tired at shift's end that we'd had some Sleepytime herbal tea in the kitchen, then gone upstairs, stripped naked and slid into bed, without even hanging them up. And obviously I'd slept deeply enough to dream of a memorable blowjob delivered ten years ago by the cousin I'd grown up with, back in Dorchester.
She cleaned us both, tossed the washcloth on top of the pile, and lay down next to me, smiling as she explained my spectacularly sexy wake-up.
"An hour ago, I woke up to see you on your back, deep asleep, hard, and
huge
. I wondered just
what
you were dreaming of, and got a
major
lady-boner.... betting you were dreaming of
me
."
"I was dreaming about my cousin Wendy sucking me off one night, the summer she graduated from college."
"You dirtbag.... you should be dreaming of
me
, your fiancée, sucking you off in your dreams. So how
was
it?"
"
You
Do It Better, honey."
"Excellent answer.... corrected to 100 percent. Anyway,
you
were hard, and dribbling, and just watching you dream made me
so
damn horny. I lay next to you and teased my clit for a while, imagining that big thing thrusting inside me. In my pussy, in my mouth.... in my
butt
. Wondering all the while, what was getting you so
hot
. Hoping to maybe watch you come in your sleep.... I've seen Jamie do that,
twice
."
"You horny little thing! And you just
watched
me and diddled yourself, until—"
"Until I decided it would be nice for us both if I—wait for it!—woke you with a
blowjob
. After all, you woke me up by going down on me once. I still get wet just thinking about that."
"I aim to please."
"When you came in my mouth
fireworks
went off in my pussy, Dave.... Boston Pops, Fourth of July, 1812 Overture....
all
that!"
I felt pleasantly drained, basking in the Esplanade-caliber moment we'd had. "Maybe we should do that more often."
*************
Jenna had beaten me home that morning, as evidenced by her leaving the little blue plastic Hawaiian lei looped over the garage-door handle. It meant that when I pulled up to the garage door, her beloved Blue Beetle was inside, so it was my turn to park in the driveway.
When I got inside, she was still in uniform, pouring boiling water into the two mugs with our names on them that we'd gifted ourselves our first Christmas together. "Hi, sweetie," she said, "tea's on."
"Sleepytime, I hope," I said, sliding behind her, kissing her neck and palming her cute little boobs through her BDU top. She giggled, and then we yawned, in unison; we were tired.... crispy fried to a crackly crunch. Tired as
fuck
.
It was eight-twenty in the morning, and we'd had a
busy
midnight tour on both sides of the house.... her Law Enforcement flight spent most of the shift shuttling between two different dorms, quieting down drunken airmen fighting over the same rotating cast of dorm whores.
My Missile Security guys kept the missiles in the Ground-Launched Cruise Missile Alert and Maintenance Area (GAMA) quite secure behind three separate fences, a shitload of sensors and barbed wire. It was, however, the Wankham Common Women's Peace Camp's favorite day of the week; British law being what it was, the peace women who were permanent residents in the five camps ringing the base got weekly "Social Security"(welfare/unemployment) checks delivered to them.
They could actually claim the camp as a permanent address to get "on the Dole," and when they got their checks, they found their way to the bank in Melbury to cash them. Then they went to the only bottle-shop in town that would still serve them, and bought cheap wine.
After those purchases, they went to the Black Tower pub in Melbury, off-limits to us Yanks because it was the local source of "Cannabis," Brit-speak for "weed." There, they bought enough cannabis to stay baked through their vandalistic orgies.
Back at their camps, they smoked their weed, drank their wine, built bonfires and danced around them, getting high; it was a sure sign that after sundown, they'd be cutting holes in the perimeter fence and coming in to vandalize or sabotage our equipment.
I liked to compare it to John Wayne's character in
Fort Apache
, Capt. Kirby Yorke, interpreting the Indian drums.
My Security Response teams assisted the LE side in chasing them down, and The Cops as a whole thwarted their attempts
all
fucking night; when you can't be in a
