Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 WARNING: This story contains sexually explicit material.  It is not
intended to be read by anyone under the age of 18.
This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any person, living or

dead, is purely coincidental.  Copyright by M.  P.  Knight 2001

   Linda's Recollections (MF cons gg M-solo F-solo ff-oral)



   I got up when the alarm went at 5:45 and went into the kitchen to make
the coffee.  My mom would be up at 6:00 and Jimmy at about 6:30.  While I
was drinking my coffee and eating a slice of toast, Mom came in and we
chatted about her plans for the day.  Soon, I heard the water running and
knew that Jimmy was up and showering.



   Timing it, from experience, I poured him a mug of coffee and went
upstairs to our bedroom.  My timing was good ..Just as I set the mug down
on the counter in the dressing area, I heard the water stop and the shower
door open.



   I left his coffee on the dressing table and went back into the bedroom
to turn the TV on and listen to the financial reports.



   I was sitting in the recliner, sipping my coffee, and watching CNN, when
Jimmy emerged from the master bath.  He had a towel around his waist.  I
knew that he only wore a towel into the bedroom when he wanted sex. 
Usually, he dressed in the dressing room before coming out to kiss me
"good-bye" as he went to work.  A quick glance revealed a bulge in the
front of the towel.



   "Good morning, babe", he said, leaning down to kiss me.  I lifted my
chin to return his kiss, which was sweet and clean smelling from his
(almost fanatical) tooth brushing.  I could taste mint on his breath and
was unsurprised when his tongue parted my lips and his mouth softened and
worked on mine.



   Withdrawing, I smiled and said, "Horny, doll?"

   "Yep.  You?"



   "Not yet, but I can get into it if you'll give me a bit," I responded.
"I'm not really up to speed yet, and my mind's been on other things, but
I'm game."



   His voice dropped a tone or two.  "Not a problem, babe.  I'd really just
sort of like to get off, if it's OK with you, but I wanted to give you the
chance to get in on the action," he said, grinning.  I knew by what he said
that he'd really like to jack off, with me watching.  After nearly 18 years
of being married, and with my mother living downstairs in the our house,
we'd developed a sort of code, or "jungle telegraph" that told each other
what we *really* meant.



   I smiled up at him and brought the recliner to an upright position, just
like in an airliner.  "Of course not.  Want to come on my face or on my
tongue?"



   "Not this time.  Maybe on your tits or your tummy if that's OK?"



   "Love it!" I really didn't, but I didn't mind.  I suppressed the urge to
ask him to keep it off the sheets, since I had just washed them and changed
them yesterday.



   Oh, well ...I really wasn't in the mood even as he dropped the towel
from around his waist and spread his legs slightly, grasping his cock high
up toward the head.  This was a certain-sure clue that he really *did* want
to come in a hurry and if experience was any guide, he would come in less
than a minute.  His hormones are very high in the morning.  Jimmy's left
hand went underneath his balls, pushing upward and forward; a large, clear
glob of what guys call "pre-cum" poured from the slit in the end.  He slid
his cupped hand upward, fingers curled into a tube, gathering the pre-cum
and spreading it on his cock.  Then he began a rapid, up-and-down motion as
he masturbated.



   I knew how he loved me to act wanton while he jacked off, so I pushed
the recliner back, opened my robe below the belt, and spread my knees
widely to let him look at my pussy.  With both hands, I opened the top of
the robe and pushed each lapel behind the mounds of my breasts, thereby
holding the robe open at the top.  I could see his eyes flicking back and
forth from my tits, (revealed by the open, red robe and framed by it), to
my cunt, framed by my spread legs and topped by thick, black, pubic hair.
His right hand continued to work up and down with a sticky, slicky, sliding
sound.  His left hand began pinching and playing with his own breasts,
alternating back and forth between them.



   "Play with yourself, Linda," he said, his breath beginning to become
labored.  I was beginning to be a little bit aroused, but not enough to
become wet, but I put the middle finger of my right hand on top of my
half-hard clitty and moved it around a little.  He dropped to his knees
before the recliner, almost hitting his chin on the footboard.



   "Let me see, let me see!" he breathed.  I splayed my legs wider then and
spread my labia with the first two fingers of my left hand, revealing the
hooded, rising bud of my clitoris.  "Mmm!" he moaned, leaning forward to
plant a huge, open-mouthed, wet, soul kiss on my pussy.  "Ah!  Ah!  Ah". 
His hand moved faster and faster, his panting, hot breath poured fire into
my soul through that lower, vertical mouth, my erecting clit rose to meet
his questing tongue.



   Just as I was really, really getting aroused, he rose to his feet,
thrusting his hips toward my face.  Thinking that he wanted me to suck his
cock, I opened my mouth and looked up at him, just as he fired a
respectable load of jism directly into my left eye.  It burned like fire.
Jimmy finished coming ...  all down the front of my chest and belly ... 
while I was frantically trying to wipe his ejaculate out of my burning eye
and only succeeding in making it burn worse.



   I shucked my robe and dived into the shower while Jimmy was dressing.  I
had just shut the water off when he stuck his head into the bath area and
yelled, "I'm off, doll.  I'll be a little late this evening, OK?"



   "Don't forget that we're supposed to go to dinner with Jim and Jeanne
tonight at Macaroni's," I yelled back, wiping myself down with my hands
before stepping out of the shower.  "It's their treat."



   "What time?"



   "About eight o'clock.  We're having drinks over here first, at 6:30."



   "I may have to skip the drinks, but I should be here by 7:00 or 7:30 at
the latest.  See you, hon."



   He left, whistling, and I could hear him clumping down the stairs.  I
dressed in my usual at-home costume of cotton panties, full skirt, loose
blouse, and sandals.  No bra, although 'The Girls' show signs of wanting to
sag a little.  I swilled the last of my now-cold coffee and yearned for a
cigarette; one year and 11 days, but who's counting, right?  If you don't
count a few slips, I'm doing pretty good.



   Mom was dressing to go shopping when I got downstairs, so I filled my
cup and clumped up the stairs, feeling vaguely restless and at loose ends.
Since Mom was busy, maybe I could check CompuServe for some mail from my
sexy friends.  That is, if she doesn't get on the 'phone while I'm on
there; it knocks me off the line every time if she picks up while I'm
signed-on.  I was in luck; five messages were waiting, and I eagerly
downloaded them.  From Richard, that sweet, sexy man, there was a *very*
hot fantasy about a chance encounter at a bed-and-breakfast, wherein he and
his wife, Julie, fucked while watching a woman (me!) in another room as she
masturbates.  Hmm!  Some possibilities there!  I'd really, really like to
meet Rich and Julie someday, and I'd fuck his brains out in a minute, but
it's just not safe.  I still haven't got over that horrible experience with
...  well, never mind.



   From Jim (another one!  I have the best luck with guys named "Jim"!) a
couple of very, very hot .JPG files.  One of them surprised me with how
excited I became ...  a woman, tied up in a chair, and gagged, her pussy
exposed and very vulnerable, her eyes showing apprehension.  Hmm!  I'm not
interested in being tied up, but maybe, if Jeanne was willing, I could tie
her up and do some really *nasty* things to her ...  interesting.  I
wondered if Jim is black?  He's never said, and I've never asked.  In all
my life I've never fucked a black (or oriental or Hispanic) man, and I'd
like to.  I do know that he seems to be sweet and gentle and has a nicely
dirty mind.!  <grin>



   From downstairs I heard, "Linda?  Are you there?"



   "Here, Mom.  Are you leaving?"



   "Yes.  I'll be back by three.  Agnes and I are going to the play
tonight, so I need to get ready before we leave."



   "What time are you leaving?"



   "About six.  What are you two doing tonight?"



   "Dinner with Jim and Jeanne.  They're coming by at 6:30 and we're going
to eat at Macaroni's."



   "Fine.  I'll see you when I get home."



   " Bye!"



   " Bye!"



   I heard the front door close and, almost simultaneously, realized that
my left hand was inside my blouse and toying with my right nipple.  Reading
the sexy e-mail from Richard and looking at the exciting .GIFs from Jim had
"lit my fuse" ...  I'd unconsciously been waiting for Mom to leave so I
could masturbate!  Another message in my in-box fired my fantasy; a short
note from Andy!  I really *like* Andy!  I read his message quickly.  He'd
obviously been busy with the new house and with work, but it was sweet of
him to drop me a line so quickly after I sent him a 'What's happening'
message.  Andy's "bi", but his sweet Oriental wife doesn't know.  He loves
pussy, but craves sex with another man every now and then.  I'd love to
offer him the chance to act out fantasies he may not even know he has.  If
I could, I'd force Andy to suck Jimmy's cock until Jimmy came all over
Andy's face, make Andy swallow it, then make him kneel and eat my pussy
while Jim fucked him in the ass as Andy's bound and gagged wife watched. 
Then I'd make Andy watch while Jim and Jimmy "raped" her ...  while another
fantasy lover, Jim, masturbated and while Rich and Julie fucked as they
watched the orgy ...  wow!  I suddenly realized that my finger was inside
my panties and I was fingering my rising clitty, my moistening slot ... 
Mmm!  Good!  Aaah!  So good!

   I pushed back my chair and rose, shucking my panties and sitting back
down, then rising to take a towel from the linen closet in the hall and to
spread it on the chair before sitting back down, knees cocked and raised
... mmm!  Good!  It seemed to me as though I'd been masturbating almost all
my life, and (as I played gently with the tip of my rising clitoris), my
mind went back through time ...  when did I first start playing with my
pussy?



   I can't remember, but I remember when ...  Martha Sue Thompson and I;
... I'm lying next to Martha...



   It's summer in Waco and we're about eleven or twelve.  We're spending
the night together in the chicken house in her (huge) back yard.  Her dad
has converted the old, long-unused chicken house into a playhouse for
Martha.  It has discarded blue linoleum laid over the cement-hard packed
dirt floor.  There are dolls on unpainted pine shelves, curtains made from
old bed sheets her Mom has stitched together, a dolly tea-set on a tiny
table her dad made for her when she was very young, and some "play" kitchen
appliances.  There's also a twin bed that we're sharing.  I don't remember
the exact wording (for it's been nearly thirty years), but Martha told me
that she'd "found a wonderful, magical place," or words to that effect. 
For just a second, I "flashed" that she might have found the magic mirror
that Alice used to get back to Wonderland, or had been visited by Peter Pan
...



   "What 'magic place'?  Where?" I asked.



   She giggled.  Martha had red hair, freckled, a cute pug nose that I
envied, and was beginning to develop titties.  "Well, I'm not sure if
you're old enough," she laughed".



   "Hell I'm not!  I'm almost as old as you!"



   "Well, I guess if you're sure ..."



   "I'm sure.  What 'magic place'?  Show me!" I insisted."



   "Well ...."



   " Show me!"



   She took her time.  Laying back and giggling through her words, she
said, slowly:" It's right ...  down ....  HERE!" she whisper-yelled,
whipping her thin cotton nightgown above her burgeoning breasts and
clapping a hand to her crotch."



   "That's not magic!  It's just, ...  er ...  personal." I said, irritated
and sort of embarassed.



   "Yes it is magic!" she chortle "That's my secret, and I'll share it with
you, because I love you", she grinned.



   "What's so magic about that?  It's just what we pee with," I said,
scornfully."



   "I'll show you," she said.  "Look at this", and she sat up, crossing her
legs and spreading her knees widely.  With two fingers she opened the lips
of her vagina and leaned back on her other arm.  "Right here," she said,
tapping with one fingertip what was apparently a fold in the skin at the
upper end of the opening.  "Mmm!  that feels s-o-o-o good!"



   "Why does it feel good?" I queried, puzzled.  "I wipe that area all the
time when I get through pissing and it doesn't 'feel s-o-o-o good'" I shot
back, sarcastically.



   "Well, I'll show you, if you'll just lay back and hike your gown and
shed those panties," she said, with a huge grin.



   And the next thing I knew, Martha was touching me there.  For a little
while it sort of irritated me, but then her rubbing and touching and
feeling caused a bright, funny, warm feeling to begin in the base of my
tummy.  I concentrated with all of my being on what I was feeling; there
was nothing to disturb us in the warm, summer, Texas night but the sound of
cicadas in the trees, and the occasional rustle as Inky, her male Cocker,
turned over in his sleep on the linoleum beside the narrow twin bed.  And,
just as a huge, warm, tingly feeling rose upward in my breast, threatening
to explode and wake the whole sleeping world, Martha lowered her mouth to
my virginal clitoris and took it deeply into her mouth, sucking.



   The world blew up in flames, in throbbing earthquakes that shook my body
uncontrollably so that it bucked, and shook, and thrust upward on heels of
iron to be engulfed by that warm, wet, sweet, mouth.



   I had once, a few months before, seen my Mom and Dad convoluted in naked
need.  Rising in the night, bothered by a stopped-up nose that made me
breathe through my mouth and crave water, I had wandered quietly into their
bedroom, beguiled by the soft sounds of pleasure from within their room.  I
had gazed in wondering silence as my Dad knelt between her raised knees and
buried his head in the fleshy fork of her spread thighs.  I had seen my
mother come mightily, cawing her pleasure at his tongue and its clever
working.  And now I understood what I had seen.



   When I came back to earth, I caught Martha to my breast and held her
tightly, kissing her deeply and tasting myself upon her warm, warm tongue.
Later, she rose on one elbow and said, whispering in my ear, "Now it's your
turn, love.  I need to come."



   It was the first time I ever heard the word "come" in that context, and
I knew right away what it meant.  And, after she did, she showed me how she
had learned to pleasure the bud of delight when there was no one to give
lip or tongue or mouth service to it.  So, that night, she gave me my first
orgasm, showed me how to masturbate, and let me suck and kiss her sweet
pussy.  We were more than lovers ...  we were friends.

   Back in the real world, I was close, closer, closest to a huge climax.
And, just as I reached my orgasm, the 'phone rang.



   Shit!"Hello." I croaked, then cleared my throat, harrumph.



   "Hello?  Linda?" said a doubtful voice.



   "Yes, Jim.  I was just thinking about you," I lied.


   "Are we still 'on' for dinner?" ...