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I met Sharon at the markets, and that’s how we became friends. She’d sell clothes and old toys (she was a single mother) from suitcases, and I started hanging around chatting with her. She was cute, what can I say? She always had a floppy, pink fringe which stood out in stark contrast to her sleek dark hair. I could spot her in the crowd a mile away because of that fringe. It was her signature look.

Sharon was a little younger than me, with big dark eyes and a beauty mark perfectly placed on her cheek. Wide, child-bearing hips and thick thighs, always dressed in black. It was Winter the day we talked about getting a coffee after the markets. I’d gone to the markets this day with another friend who I’d left to wander the stalls alone while I chatted to Sharon, and that friend had seen the dynamic forming and left me to it. So, when the punters had all left, Sharon packed her suitcase of stuff and I carried it for her up the road to a local coffee-house, where we ordered hot chocolates. The wind was bitterly cold, though, and I hadn’t come dressed to be out all day. Sharon lent me her hoodie, claiming she wasn’t affected much by the cold anyway. I drowned inside it, the folds of the sweater enveloping me like a blanket. Sharon said I looked cute wearing her hoodie. It smelt of her: sweet, a hint of intoxicating perfume. We locked eyes and fell silent. That was when we decided to drain our hot chocolates dry and catch the bus back to my place.

We were nervous as hell, and isn’t that the best way to begin these things? That anticipation, the flutter of butterflies in our bellies, the shy glances at one another until we’re unable to look away from the hunger in the other’s eyes?

Soon we were on my bed making out, our cold lips raising goosebumps where we kissed each other’s necks. It didn’t lake long for our passions to warm us, however, and when Sharon lay flat on her back to shuck up her skirt, I tugged her black tights and panties down until her bush was exposed. We weren’t shy any longer. My fingers slid through her pubes until they found her vagina and began gently exploring. I was kneeling beside her, so I undid my zipper and shoved at my pants until my dick sprang into view, half-erect already, and repositioned myself beside her head. With my free hand I cradled ataşehir escort her head, carefully angling my hips until my dick was hovering over her face. Dutifully, she opened wide and swallowed my dick, just a little at first, testing its length.

So good. It felt so good. By now my finger was caressing her labia, lubricating her pussy. I pressed my finger deeper, her pussy lips folding around and enveloping my fingertip. Like a hoodie! I pushed in deeper until I was steadily fingering her, pistoning my finger down to the last knuckle and back out again. I was swaying my hips in rhythm, angling so my dick was sliding between Sharon’s lips and poking her cheek out to one side., the mole undulating as if a boat on rough seas. I cannot recall cumming, on this occasion; I suspect I didn’t have time. I remember wanting to fuck her badly, but we’d let our stay at the coffee-house extend too long, and now Sharon’s ex wanted her to pop over and pick up the kid earlier than expected. So, we straightened our clothes and I saw Sharon off at the bus-stop, handing her the suitcase through the rear door.

Naturally, we scheduled a dinner date after this. The following week I arrived at Sharon’s place, late enough that her kid had been put to bed. She was cooking pasta when I arrived, and we ate in the loungeroom while watching a stand-up comedy special on the TV, quaffing a glass of red wine. With the meal finished, we snuggled together on the lounge, my head resting against her chest, using her boob as a pillow. I was barely focused on the TV, thinking only of getting Sharon undressed and wondering if I should wait for the program to end to initiate something. Sensing my disinterest in the TV, Sharon enquired if everything was okay. She was worried I hadn’t been laughing at the comic.

“Your boobs are distracting,” I confessed.

She glanced down at her cleavage, made more prominent by the lazy way in which we were slouching on the lounge. I leant across and kissed the swell of her breast a few times. When I glanced up, her lips were parted and her eyelids heavy. I angled my face upwards and we began making out.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” I suggested, lest we be disturbed.

“Don’t worry, the kid’s a heavy sleeper,” she laughed, but we adjourned kadıköy escort bayan to the bedroom nonetheless and closed the door.

Our hands trembled slightly, but not from the cold. Nerves or over-eagerness? Honestly, it was mixture of both. We kissed again, and my hands found the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. She wore a black bra, which she unclasped for me, wasting no time throwing it to the floor. Her boobs were a modest size, big dark nipples with tight areolae. As with her cheek, there was a light smattering of moles across her clavicle and down the side of one breast. It made her tits seem paler than they probably were. I slid my hands up her back, raking my nails over her skin, and bent over to suck on her nipples.

She gasped, relaxing in my embrace, holding me tighter. She was pressing her tit into my mouth, her fingers digging into my shoulders. She was horny as hell.

We stood apart and quickly undressed, her fingers tickling underneath my erect shaft appreciably.

She was a heavy-set girl, and when she climbed onto the bed and lay with her legs spread, feet planted into the plump bedspread, I got a good look at those deliciously thick thighs. Her ass bulged out from underneath, and the crevice between ran straight up into a dark nest of pubic hair. I crawled across the bed toward her, gliding my fingers from her knees down to her inguen, that tender area between thigh and groin. She shivered, pressing her knees tight together.

I yanked her legs apart again, hovering my hand over her pubic area, gently brushing her bush to tease her. I got her pussy lips apart and knelt down for a taste, burying my face into her vagina. It was warm and musty, and I suppose my lips were cold from the chill Winter air, for she shivered anew, squirming away. I persisted, flicking my tongue out against her labia, until I had my mouth completely pressed against her pussy. I made kissing motions, rubbing my nose against what was hopefully her clit.

My cock was nice and hard, pressed between my own thighs. I couldn’t wait to sink inside Sharon, and I didn’t have to wait, either. Sharon was impatient by now, rolling over onto her hands and knees, ass in the air. We didn’t have the light on, so only the streetlights escort maltepe spilling through the sheer curtains over her window illuminated the room. Her ass was backlit from the window, and when I reached my hand into the shadowy space beneath, I was quite surprised.

Sharon’s pussy was saturated, and wide open. Her flesh was hot to touch, but her cunny actually gaped, with strings of natural lube dripping down. I waggled my fingers around, amazed at how drenched she was.

“Damn, your pussy is so wet.”

“So, fuck me,” she replied, irritably.

I couldn’t leave the lady waiting!

I positioned myself behind her and without the slightest trouble drove my dick home, her dripping pussy loose and slippery. We both moaned loudly. I love that sound: lovers vocalising together the moment of pure release when a cock fills a pussy.

I rode her hard and bareback in the doggy position, marvelling at her wide ass spread before me, the streetlight highlighting her curves. I reached forward and grabbed a fistful of hair, tugging her head back as I continued to smash my hips against her ass. Wet, squelching noises filled the room, with an occasional gasp or groan from either of us. The front of my legs were now wet from her juices squirting out onto me when our bodies slammed together.

I wanted to go longer than I did, but her squelchy pussy was too good, and I ended up pulling out and firing a load straight over her ass and onto her back, taking my slippery cock in hand to help empty my balls. Sharon’s head fell onto the pillow as I finished myself off onto her.

It was a good — if brief — fuck, and a long-time coming (pardon the pun).

Afterwards we quickly cleaned up and then lay on the bed together with a light bedsheet to defend against the cold, enjoying the press of our warm bodies naked against one another. After some small talk (and yes, we touched on how good the sex was), the streetlight flicked off. I checked the time, expecting it to perhaps be nearly dawn, but Sharon informed me the light outside does that sometimes. I was grateful it had stayed on during our coupling: the sight of Sharon’s body braced against my thrusting had helped get me off as much as that drenched pussy had.

It was a good time to leave. I felt awkward about staying for breakfast when her kid would be up, even though Sharon said it was fine to stay. On the drive home I was hard, thinking about that dripping pussy I’d just had.

It wasn’t the last time I’d fuck Sharon, but for now this is where this story ends.

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