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Tyree stretched his arms above his head, sighing with relief. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to missing his deadline completely. When the monthly reminder had popped up in his mailbox at about six o’clock last evening, he’d been shocked. He’d lost track of the days and hadn’t even thought about what he was going to write. Well, an all-nighter had averted the disaster, but the wake-up call was loud and clear. He’d have to take control of his life.
Could a divorced Thirty-two, year old man be having a mid-life crisis? Lately, he’d been feeling old and tired, as if life were passing him by, and the only thing that made him happy, all he could think about were women and tits. He’d been at his computer all day yesterday downloading pictures and videos. He couldn’t seem to get enough. How many times had he come yesterday? Four or five times, he figured, and with no down time in between. What was happening to him? One erotic fantasy led to another, each one more alluring and compelling than the last. He’d always been a horny guy. He’d always loved the harem of women who lined the shelves of his private library. But until now, he’d been in control. He fit them into his life. Now they summoned him and he seemed unable to resist their siren calls. However, working for the magazine paid his rent and allowed him the time to work on his novel. And he’d almost got himself fired. This obsessive behavior would have to stop and right now!
He watched a series of emails flood his inbox. One marked urgent caught his eye. It was from his masseuse: Got the flu’. Am trying to get an associate to fill in. No luck so far, but I’ll keep trying. Sorry about all this, Miguel.
Miguel was the last of Tyree’s ex-wife’s legacies. She’d hired him to come every Sunday and massage each of them. He still did, just on different days and at separate residences. Tyree spent a great deal of time sitting at his computer and his weekly massages relieved the tension that would sometimes result in chronic back pain. He was disappointed that Miguel wouldn’t be coming today, but right now, he needed sleep. He’d catch some shuteye and then get up and try to work past this episode of writes block.
Tyree felt a familiar stirring in his groin and without thinking, untied his robe. He was naked underneath. He was above average in height. When he wasn’t writing he worked hard at keeping himself in shape, which showed in his chiseled chest and rock hard abs. Sweat glistened on his chest as he felt the all to familiar tightening in his groin. He restored and started his media player and reached for the bottle of lubricant that sat open on his desk. He sighed and slouched in his chair as cool, smooth liquid oozed between his knowing palm and waiting cock. The air around him became charged with something tense, powerful and familiar. It cut him off from reality and settled him into a nether-land of relentless and all-consuming sexual pleasure. He felt light-headed and tingling sensations tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, penetrated his skin and coursed along his body’s nerve ends. He looked at her, this woman on the screen, and an incredible surge of horniness claimed him. She was sitting cross-legged on a bed, her attention focused on the fingernail she was painting with a bright red polish that accentuated the pale warmth of her skin. Her face was mischievous, except for the twinkle in her eyes that peeped from behind exquisitely long lashes to acknowledge him and to let him know that she knew he was there and knew what he was doing. He let go of his cock, dropping his hands to his sides. He wouldn’t touch himself again until she made him; until pre-cum leaked from his penis head. But not yet, she was busy now. A tinny soundtrack annoyed him. He muted the sound. When she was ready, she would talk to him. His subconscious mind was already writing the script.
Both hands finished, his girl put down her bottle and blew him escort ataşehir a quick kiss before directing the flow of her sweet, hot breath across her wet nails, again and again. He imagined that same current of air passing over his erect nipples and down his naked body to his cock and balls. It gathered force, rushing now toward his ass and pressuring his groin. The girl wore a see-through white top and bikini panties. She spread her fingers and, being careful not to disturb her manicure, ran her hands down the fleshy expanse of her generous breasts that sat over her tight stomach and long muscled legs.
“Soon baby,” Tyree her heard her whisper. “Be patient. Soon you’ll be all mine.”
Pre-cum began to flow and his erotic hunger mounted to new heights. He felt like he hadn’t come in months and after yesterday’s multiple orgasms that fact overwhelmed and frightened him. He’d been masturbating for as long as he could remember, riding the crests and then finding in the troughs a calming physical and psychological absence of sexual longing. But lately, there’d been no resolution; only orgasm and an almost immediate return to arousal, greater and greater arousal. He gathered his pre-cum between thumb and forefinger and began to reverently spread it all over the head of his erect cock.
“That’s good,” his girl cooed. “Now watch me.”
She smiled a lascivious smile and, using her hands, lifted one tit toward her face. A bottle fell from its hiding place, the cleavage between her raised breast, and she laughed rakishly, opening her greedy mouth to receive her own nipple. At the very last minute, coquette that she was, she changed her mind and her demeanor. Giving her breast a quick, innocent kiss, she nestled into it like a sleepy child.
“Wanna’ share my pillow?” she teased, winking at Tyree. A large glob of pre-cum oozed his appreciation and a luxuriant erotic heat claimed him. “Watch me and learn,” she purred, squeezing oil from a generous height into the cup of her hand. She carefully dipped one nipple and, leaving it gleaming, favored the other. She poured more liquid and then began to massage and fondle and deliver long, slow strokes. She slicked both hands and began to milk and stroke, like she thought her tit was a tit one minute and a cock the next. Paying specific attention to her growing nipples, she massaged her breasts until they gleamed. Tyree grabbed his bottle and squeezed a generous portion of lotion into both his hands, groaning aloud as he slid his cock in and out of the warm, wet cavern his hands had made.
“Oh no,” he thought, slowing the movement to a crawl.
He didn’t want to come … not yet. He wanted the pleasure to go on … forever. But the tide was rushing in and he couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to! Didn’t care!! He stretched his legs so hard that they lifted off the floor and closed his eyes tight as orgasmic spasm after spasm overwhelmed his senses. It was Nirvana and all the cum of all the ages spilled out of him.
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see how little milky white evidence there was. A towel lay ready on his desk and he matter-of-factly cleaned himself up and managed to drag himself to bed. He lay on his back. His cock felt warm against the cool sheets. It was beginning to prickle nicely, but before he could touch it, he fell into a deep sleep.
When Tyree awoke, his hard cock was pressing insistently into the mattress and he was in the final throes of a dream. He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t. He turned onto his back, remembering the dream that had so enraptured him. He was swimming in an ocean of floating breasts. It was strange; the bodies were submerged and all he could see were nipples and parts of breasts. He reached out for them, but they’d dissolve before he could feel them. He wanted them and their bodies. He wanted arms around him. He wanted arms pressing breasts into kadıköy escort him and a face he could kiss. Finally, at the edge of the pool, a woman appeared. She held her hands out to him and a feeling of intense warmth surrounded him. She began to swim toward him. Her breasts kept getting bigger and bigger and suddenly, he was in her arms and his cock was in her pussy and he felt more love and more carnal satisfaction then he’d ever felt before. And that’s when he woke up. It seemed so real. He couldn’t believe that he was alone in his bed. Tyree closed his eyes wanting more of the dream. He tossed his sheet aside and cupped his balls with one hand while gripping his cock with the other. He groaned as he varied the pressure on his balls with one hand and altered the pattern of strokes with the other. But the dream had escaped him. He couldn’t feel his mermaid. He felt so good, but he needed his mermaid.
“Please, help,” he moaned, squeezing harder, stroking faster.
The knocks on his apartment door were clear and insistent. “Is anybody there?”
The voice was soft and had a sonorous, lilting Spanish accent that made Tyree think of sandy beaches, marguerites and gorgeous native girls. Miguel had obviously found someone to massage him and the doorman had let her up. Her! Tyree looked helplessly at his engorged cock. He felt groggy and disoriented. The knocking started again. He jumped out of bed and began rummaging around for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “I’ll be right there,” he shouted.
Tyree opened the door to a dream. One hand held the wheeled massaged table against her hip. Long shiny black hair framed a soft kindly face. Her liquid brown eyes were penetrating. But it was her breasts that claimed him. Her cream turtleneck sweater only accentuated their over-sized bulk and did nothing to hide her long, extended nipples. She was wearing jeans and running shoes and a tote bag hung from her shoulder.
“I’m Yvonne,” she said. “Miguel sent me.”
“Yes, come in,” Tyree said.
“Where would you like me to set up?”
“Anywhere, I mean right here would be good.”
Tyree pointed to the center of his living room. He glanced past his computer. This girl would have been the one he’d chosen if he could have. He could feel his cock pressing against his jeans, begging to be stroked. How was he going to get through this? He’d lie on his stomach and think about football.
Yvonne had set up the table and placed a large towel over it. She’d rested a bottle of oil on the nearby coffee table.
“Ready when you are,” she said.
Tyree undressed quickly and climbed onto the table. His breathing was labored and he could feel horniness, a great and powerful horniness wash over him. He felt scared and vulnerable. Yvonne’s fingertips grazed the cheeks of his ass as she covered him with the towel and his sensitive nipples tingled. She started at the top of his spine and around his shoulders.
“So Miguel tells me that you’re writing a novel. What’s it about?”
“It’s a mystery and a love story,” Tyree said.
Her hands were strong and he could feel the stiffness in his body melting under the pressure, melting and being replaced by sensuous warmth and mounting sexual pleasure. He couldn’t think about football. All he could think about was turning over and gazing at her, at her mountainous breasts. He was sure that his cock would betray him. It was doing so already, but he couldn’t help that.
“Try and relax. You’re very tense,” Yvonne said. “Why don’t you turn over?”
There it was. She knew, Tyree thought. The day of reckoning was at hand. Tyree turned over. Yvonne stepped back, her huge tits reaching out to Tyree, calling Tyree. She adjusted the towel over his hugely tenting cock. She began to massage his feet. The oil between his toes excited him. The feel of her palm caressing the arch of his foot excited him. And her breasts were driving him maltepe escort bayan crazy. His cock lurched with greed and a huge glob of pre-cum oozed out of him, wetting the towel obviously.
“I can’t help it,” Tyree whined. “Lately, I’m just so . . . “
“Horny,” Yvonne whispered. “No girlfriend to take care of you?”
“No, no girlfriend,” Tyree murmured.
Yvonne had worked her way along his calves and was moving toward his groin. As she bent over him, her breasts were almost touching him. Almost. And the feeling of anticipation and the look of her was taking him to that hopeless and hapless edge.
“I can’t help it,” Tyree moaned. He reached under the towel and began to pump himself. He tensed his body, right down to his toes and stroked. He was too aroused to care about anything except his satisfaction and it came in waves of erotic, awesome bliss.
“I’m sorry,” Tyree said, sitting up and holding the messy towel against him.
“It’s alright,” Yvonne said, smiling sweetly. “I’ll wait.”
Tyree went to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror. He didn’t want to witness the humiliation and helplessness reflected there. His stomach churned with confusion. She hadn’t gotten mad. She hadn’t walked out. She was waiting. What would happen next? Tyree wet a washcloth and began to clean himself up. He thought of Yvonne’s breasts. He thought of her pulling that sweater up over her breasts, giving him a peep of the long line of cleavage running out of her bra. His cock began to stir. Tyree was still horny; or horny again. He couldn’t tell anymore. There was no beginning or end. Only a raging greed and need for fulfillment. He left the bathroom with a clean towel. He didn’t know what to do with the soiled one, so he left it behind.
Tyree climbed self consciously back up on the table and spread the towel over his privates.
Yvonne stared at him and then let her eyes fall to her own breasts. “I don’t think you’re in any shape for a massage,” Yvonne said. “I’ve seen you staring at these. This is what you really need.”
Yvonne began massaging her breasts. She tweaked her nipples and removed the towel that had begun to rise over Tyree’s growing cock. “I want to see how much you enjoy them,” she said. She lifted the sweater over her mounds. Her bra was a creamy lace sensation that lifted her flesh and presented her cleavage with dizzying eloquence. Tyree had begun to stroke himself.
“Miguel told me all about you. Told me how you’re obsessed with tits,” she taunted. “I wore this bra just for you.” She took off her sweater and dropped it onto the floor. She wiggled out of her slacks and shoes and socks. “Do you like these?” She wore matching bikini panties and was stroking her pussy through the silky fabric. “Miguel thought we’d be a good match. I’m lonely and horny, too. Wanna’ smell how much?” She moved over Tyree and pressed her wet finger against his nostril. “You are insatiable!” she said, pointing to his thick, lengthening cock. She fumbled in her bag and came up with a condom. She tossed it to Tyree. “Get ready, big boy!” Tyree pulled it on and just in time. Yvonne was on the table and poised over him. “I want you,” she said. She eased herself onto him and began a circular up and down motion that had Tyree pumping and groaning with pleasure. They altered their pace and the strides of their gallop. They were hungry and greedy and wanted it to last forever. It did until forever became now.
“Right now,” Yvonne said, bucking and groaning.
“Yes,” Tyree panted.
And they came in a sweating, intoxicated, rapturous fall.
After a while they retired to Tyree’s bed and investigated the possibilities of several pleasures. They made sandwiches, drank a few beers and talked and talked. Tyree talked about his obsession, about being always horny. Yvonne talked about loneliness and needing love, needing to love. Yvonne cancelled her two other appointments and they fell back into bed.
“I’m tired,” Tyree sighed, cradling Yvonne in his arms.
“Not horny?” Yvonne laughed.
“Not horny,” Tyree said, “just happy and exhausted and loved.”
“Yeah, loved,” Yvonne said.
And they fell into a deep sleep . . .Finally!
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