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Subject: Celeste's Lost Files - Meeting Shirley 2 {The Observer} TTT
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TTT Archive (Treasure Trove of the Titmouse)
Celeste listed several stories as "lost" in her Cumulative Monthly List posted
in late
July. I'm posting those I have to ASS/M and hope those who have others will
do the same.
My reposting will include:
Bushido {Sachi Mizuno} Excerpt only. Anyone got the rest?
Cleave it to Beaver 1 {MrNatural} Is there more?
Dispensation of Grace 3 {Horangi} Anyone got parts 1-2?
Face of Betrayal {Morpheus' Twin}
Hands On {Deidre Ng}
Meeting Shirley {The Observer}
Open Big {Thomas A Long}
Silent Intruder {Annette}
Tammy's Game {Tammy Ng}
Terri's Dilemma {The Observer}
Tonya Harding, Slave Girl {Your Friendly Author}
These stories have been minimally cleaned up. If I have it,
the text includes original headers and footers.
Still missing, as far as I'm concerned:
"Let Your Fingers Do the Riding" by Solo Polyphony
"Under the Table" by DOLFAN353
"Shower Buddies" by Stone Wolf
"'D' Is for Driving" by Dulcinea
"So Shy" by Scott Sanders (young love)
"Stuffing the Old Gobbler" by MrSpraycan
Best,
Titmouse
[in:mtgshrl2.txt] alt.sex.stories/dl/sl960619.t
>From observer@onramp.net Wed Jun 19 23:49:56 PDT 1996
Article: 98406 of alt.sex.stories
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From: observer@onramp.net (observer)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: **New - Meeting Shirley [Damn You Charlie][2/3] M/F Rom
Date: 20 Jun 1996 02:32:00 GMT
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Author's Note:
If you have not read the story "Terri's Dilemma," then the following
story may not be as much fun for you. Whenever I post a new story,
all of the proceeding stories are posted at the same time for your
convenience.
I answer all E-Mail, eventually.
If a segment of a story is missing from your server, send me an E-
Mail request, I will respond.
This story is intended solely for the entertainment of adults, and
may contain words which depict acts of human sexuality.
If you are a minor as defined by your local political jurisdiction,
a postal inspector, or an asshole looking for trouble, please delete
this file before reading, and go away. In other words, void where
prohibited by law. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance herein
to persons living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended..
***
***"Meeting Shirley" subtitled "Damn You Charlie"***
by Observer (c) June 1996, all rights reserved - Edited by Chris
Part Two of Three Parts
***
Correcting her, I said, "Shirley Zapalac, and her friend, made an
entrance last night at the upscale restaurant Romano's that had to
have been seen to be believed. As the gorgeous young woman held
court, I could not help but think that Houston's gain was
Hollywood's loss. Seldom have these tired eyes seen such a
combination of class and beauty in one young woman. And that's the
end of the eight o'clock news from Demand Radio seventy-nine,
Houston."
"Yes, that's what you said, you rat."
"Did I miss something?"
"Damn right. I was so embarrassed. All my g.. Never mind." Then
Shirley started tinkle-laughing, and I broke up.
I grabbed a big hat from the back seat and pushed it down over
Shirley's head. "You need this or you'll get the sunburn from
hell." She accepted my gift, and off we went.
Driving to Galveston was a blast. I drove the car, and Shirley
drove the radio, searching until a song was found we both could
sing. It seemed to both of us that only minutes had gone by when we
arrived at the beach, after stopping a short distance away to take
the top down.
At the time, Galveston was 'the' place to go to the beach in the
summer. Sandy beaches extended from the southwest end of the island
to a ferry crossing on the northeast end. The city itself, and the
main beach area, were near the northeast end.
Shirley insisted we conform to the ritual. This meant driving up
and down the main street that was between the shops on one side and
the beach on the other. Parking was to be found in lots behind the
shops. Steps led from the high sea wall down to the beach, and the
six lane street was atop the sea wall and level with the rest of the
town. Wide sidewalks lined both sides of the street.
Traffic was bumper to bumper. The sidewalks were full with surging
humanity. Kids herded along by parents, teenagers walking or
standing in same-sex knots gawking at each other, couples out for a
day at the beach, roller-skaters, bicyclists, joggers, shoppers, any
one of which were liable to dart out in front of the vehicle parade
at any moment.
Cars and trucks of all descriptions slowly drove along the road,
more often than not packed tight with shrieking girls and
cat-calling boys. And if you were young and good looking, the
order of the day was a minimum of clothing. Male and female great
bodies were everywhere. So were pot bellies and cellulite,
overexposed on the not so great.
I focused on driving, to avoid a fender-bender or hitting someone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Shirley bouncing around
taking in the sights.
Kneeling on the seat gave her a little more height. It also allowed
her to stand on her knees and clutch the top of the windshield in a
pretended effort to see better. This naturally drew the attention
of the knot of young men we were then passing. Not unexpectedly,
they responded with bellows of, "Hey babe, dump that low-life and
come over here with us." "I love you." "Beeeeerrrr." "Oh, my God."
And so on.
Shirley pretended to be embarrassed, and slumped down on the seat
with a tiny voiced, "Eeek." I wasn't fooled for a minute. Sure
enough, she did it again after a few minutes. I pretended to be
irked.
"You're going to cause a wreck."
"No I'm not, I'm having fun."
"Brazen hussy."
"I'm ready for the beach now."
I parked and we walked hand-in-hand down to the beach, carrying just
our towels and sunscreen lotion.
When Shirley took off her wrap, I almost shot in my pants. I felt
like a fifteen-year-old on his first date. The bikini she was
wearing was so tiny, I thought we might both get arrested. My groin
ached and my eyes threatened to leave my head as I gawked at her
tiny waist and flat belly. What I like to call the saddle - that
part of a woman between her waist and upper thighs - on Shirley, was
to die for. Absolutely my ideal.
While I was checking her out, she struck a pose. Her eyes gave away
her thoughts as they roved over me in return. I could tell when she
got to the lump in my swimsuit because she flushed slightly, and
looked away. Then she looked back more boldly, lingering for a
moment on the object of her attention, then looked up to play
stare-me-down.
That was neither the time nor the place for that, so I closed the
short distance between us, kissed her firmly, swatted her behind
with the flat of my hand, and said, "Enough of that. Behave
yourself. Save the games for later."
Shirley nuzzled my neck for a moment then pulled away, and we
strolled hand-in-hand down to the water. Our belongings were in the
trunk of the car, except for towels and suntan lotion left behind on
the beach. As we walked, I could feel the hot sand under my feet,
and the equally hot stares of a thousand eyes upon us - mostly
looking at Shirley.
Splashing each other, swimming together - Shirley a surprisingly
strong swimmer - again walking hand-in-hand on the beach and through
the shops across the street, we had a perfect day. Laughing at
nothing, conscious of the ever-present stares -- which finally
caused Shirley to put her wrap back on -- we became the near-total
focus of each other's attention.
And, from my view, the unwelcome center of attention from jerks
looking at Shirley's charms as we walked around. My little
attention-grabber liked to look at souvenirs. Not necessarily to
buy, however. She wanted to see where they were made.
"This one's from Japan - Sayonara. Oh, look, Taiwan. Oh my God,
Germany. I want to go there."
We helped each other with suntan lotion. From her tan lines, I
could tell her last bathing suit was a one piece. I kidded her
about tan lines, and got dunked for my trouble. I did mention that
tan lines turned me on.
My cock made itself known off and on all day. I couldn't help it,
although I tried. Shirley had a unique smell. Her own feminine
odor mixed with the exotic perfume I had previously noted to form a
distinct miasma that periodically drove me to the brink of total
distraction. The smell of a woman was a major turn-on for me, and
Shirley's bouquet was exquisite.
To say I was in heat would have begged the issue. But I had
promised Charlie, so I told myself I would just simply have to wait
- and hope. Shirley labored under no such instruction, however, and
there was no doubt she was also turned on.
All the little things women can do to let a man know, she did --
light touches with her hands, a pose when she knew I was looking,
breasts pressed as if by accident against my arm or torso, the look
in her eyes; I thought Shirley wanted me as much as I wanted her.
She may not have been the only good looking woman at the beach that
day, but you'd never have known it by watching me.
She almost, but not quite, flaunted herself at me. But her body said
there was still something held back -- maybe for later. 'Damn you
Charlie.'
*****
The music was turned low as we drove back to Houston.
"That was .." We both laughed as we tried to say the same thing at
the same time. "That was fun," I said as she let me go first.
"Oh God, I can't remember when I had so much fun," was her emphatic
response.
I squirmed around trying to control my burgeoning erection. Alone
at last with Shirley, my cock was making its presence known even
more so than it had numerous times during the day.
And Shirley noticed, with a giggle. "Oouewee, you sure get hard a
lot." The challenge was back, but with a completely different edge.
"Right," I said flatly. We both were silent for a few moments.
Then I said, "Why not, you are one sexy young woman, and you know
it."
"Well, I didn't before, but I do now. Last night and today I
discovered something, and I like it. I like it a lot."
"Brazen hussy."
Shirley stretched and pushed her breasts out. Then shifting around
in the seat, she leaned against her door and curled her legs up on
the seat. This almost gave me a shot of the bulge in her bikini,
something I had done my best not to stare at during the day.
"Jack, I have never felt so, umm, sexy, in my whole life. My entire
body is tingling."
"Yea, me too, but we can't do anything."
"I don't know if I'm ready yet or not. But I do trust you enough to
tell you how I feel."
"Thank you." I gave Shirley a genuinely sincere smile to let her
know I appreciated what she had said. This seemed to raise her
level of confidence even more. I was being judged, I knew it, and
was damn glad the grade appeared to be A+ so far.
Then, curiosity aroused, she asked, "Why can't we do anything."
"Because I promised Charlie I wouldn't try to fuck you."
"What," she sputtered and raised her voice. "That asshole. That
lowlife. How dare he. You just wait till I see that no good,
rotten, son-of..." Her words trailed off as she internalized what
she was going to do to Charlie. Her reaction was so comical I
couldn't help but laugh, which served to direct her ire at me.
"And what, pray tell, are you laughing about? Both of us are horny,
I'm not ready to do anything, you say you promised you wouldn't, and
now you're laughing. What the hell is so funny." Then she broke
down in giggles, unable to keep up the facade of fake-wounded ego.
But she was genuinely pissed at Charlie. 'Better him than me,' I
thought, as I heard her mutter, "He has no right, or not m..."
We gave each other one of those looks that are supposed to only pass
between long-married and thoroughly enamored and sensitive couples.
Shirley and I had reached a new plateau. I liked it and I could
tell she did, too. Somehow it seemed as if Shirley had known me
forever.
Communion-of-the-soul silence crept into the car. I could feel her
focus, her eyes watching me as I half concentrated on the road, half
concentrated on her. A good fifteen minutes passed in this manner,
when she suddenly blurted, "Let me give you a hand job. I know a
little bit about how to do that."
Of all the things Shirley could have said, she had just said the
most unexpected. I almost wrecked the car. A whirlwind of thoughts
cascaded through my brain as I fought to imagine what on earth had
caused her to say she wanted to give me a hand job. I hadn't had a
hand job in too many years to count, but suddenly it sounded like
the best idea of the decade.
"You just wanna see what I've got, little girl," I said crudely.
Then I temporized with, "And I wanna see yours. So if you show me
yours, I'll show you mine."
Shirley did a tinkle laugh again, then said, "I don't wanna just
wook at it, I wanna pway wif it. You gotta little dolly I can pway
wif? Ouch, I can't believe I'm babytalking." Then she said with a
smirk, "I wanna do something nasty."
I started looking for a place with some privacy where we could park.
The next exit sign said LaMarque - 2 miles.
"Jack, I'm almost ready to find out what it is to make love. When
I'm awake, anyway. I guess I'm supposed to play hard to get or
something. But I don't really feel like it, I mean I don't feel
like playing hard to get. But I don't want to be easy either.
Shit."
"Don't worry about it Shirley, nothing but some heavy petting is
going to happen tonight, and I can't wait to get my hands on your
body. Is that rotten, or what?" I was grinning -- leering -- at
her with turns of my head as I continued toward the exit.
"It isn't rotten if I want you to," she said with a smile. Shirley
was looking down at her hands in her lap, which were kneading each
other with nervous energy. "Besides," she said with a giggle, "I
want to see if that's all you, or you have a sock in your pants."
The next exit presented itself, and we left the freeway with me
driving almost completely on auto-pilot. Shirley had eased the hem
of her wrap up to the point where her fat little mound looked at me
from under the wrap. She voluntarily (or unconsciously) was rubbing
her hands very slowly across her thighs. Her nipples were making
bullets in the bikini top.
I may have been turned on; Shirley was in orbit.
A deserted shopping center under construction was just a few hundred
yards from the freeway, and I found a quiet place behind the nearly
finished building to park. As one, we dove into the back seat and
began trying to absorb each other whole.
Shirley plopped into my lap with one of her legs on each side of
mine. Her knees were bent, and my slumped position allowed her to
rub her most erotic center against my still clothing-captured cock.
It was wonderful, except my dick hurt from the confinement.
I said so. "Dammit, that hurts. Let me take it out, please."
She pulled back just far enough to give me room to push down the
bathing suit, then got in the way trying to help. Eventually we got
the job done, Shirley giggling, and me cussing.
"Ouch, dammit that hurts."
"Oh shut up, I wanna help."
"Okay, okay, you pull on each side, I'll take care of the front."
As more and more of my cock appeared to her avid gaze, her pulling
hands slowed down until, with all of my throbbing erection exposed,
and most of my balls, she stopped. There was still enough sunlight
for me to see the expression on her face, and it was comical. Even
with the slight sunburn, I could see her flush, then turn pale as
she looked at my manhood.
With a visible swallow, she said timorously, "All of that, is
supposed to go in tiny little me?"
"Maybe not at first, but yea, eventually."
Shirley looked doubtful, then reached out tentatively to touch me.
I was leaking, and she smeared the fluid around in little circles.
My young girl friend was playing, and I was going nuts. Having
enough of that for the moment, she shifted up to straddle me again,
and began kissing my face while working her bikini covered crotch on
my uncovered tumescence. Now that was fun.
Small shudders captured her body as we kissed and fondled, while her
cunt rode against my hardness. My hands cupped her ass, and found
real muscle where I expected only softness. Shirley may have looked
soft, but underneath the smooth-as-silk skin she had terrific, but
not overdone, muscle development.
In the closed confines of the car, the smell of her skin, mixed with
sun-tan lotion, what was left of the perfume, and a light musk,
sneaked into my nostrils. I inhaled deeply to capture more of her
erotic scent. Then I nuzzled her neck and shoulders, kissing with
moving lips and mobile tongue.
After long minutes -- or long hours, I don't know which -- I lifted
her up by the waist and deposited her on the seat next to me.
Spreading her legs with one hand to cup her sex, I wrapped the other
hand around her back and pulled her to me for more sweet kisses.
She was more than ready. The small shudders became large shudders,
which turned into a respectable orgasm as I squeezed and pulled at
her fat mound. Her tongue found the inside of my mouth, and she
pushed her breasts against me with abandon.
As she trembled and quaked to her climax, I gradually leaned back
while keeping my active hand busy giving her pleasure. When she
finally pushed my groping hand away from her suddenly too-sensitive
flesh, we were almost lying down in the back seat of my car. Her
hand immediately found my erection, and she began clasping me, then
pumping me, as she tried to return the pleasure she had just
experienced.
From somewhere inside, my command voice said, "Kiss it. Make love
to me with your mouth." Shirley obeyed without even a momentary
hesitation. It was only after getting a taste of my precum on her
lips that she realized what I had just done to her.
Looking up at me, she gave me a momentary glare, then a look of
pretty confusion and contemplation as she suddenly realized there
was more to me than she had seen so far. Emotion was thick in my
throat as I said hoarsely, "Suck me."
For a moment, my girl looked defiant. Then with a shrug, she said
matter-of-factly, "Why not." Then she lowered her head and gave me
the worst blow job of my life. It was sort of wonderful.
Snagging teeth, lips too loose then too tight, as she tried to suck
the end of my dick off, Shirley had not a clue how to go about
making love to a man's pride and joy. Her tongue made a couple of
tentative motions, and her hand clasped my cock with entirely too
much strength.
It didn't matter.
I came almost immediately. More, I think, from a too-full seminal
reservoir aggravated by the all day sexual tension and recent
caresses -- and self defense -- than from any likely future
addiction to Shirley's style of oral copulation.
One, then another gush of hot seed squirted into her surprised
mouth. The first caught her unprepared and she choked. The second
caused her to back hastily away from my spurting manhood and start
hawking and spitting while making grim reaper faces at me.
I came like a whale. And Shirley, bless her, had the courtesy to
continue to massage my erupting cock until I was finished. Her
reaction to my explosion had loosened her fingers around my shaft.
That, and the semen she had spit and drooled out of her mouth when I
first started cumming, provided slick measure for her rubbing
fingers and hand.
As I came down from the heights, she kept gently rubbing my now
overly sensitive organ, and looking down at it pensively. I could
only hope that our first effort at mutual exploration hadn't turned
her off to future events.
My apprehension grew as Shirley remained silent while I used one of
the towels to clean up. After pulling my swimsuit back up, I helped
her return to the front seat, then followed her. Neither of us
spoke a word until well after we were back on the highway toward
Houston.
Irrepressible Shirley was quiet, too damn quiet. After finally
finding a woman who just might be my long sought love, I was afraid
that I had gone to far and turned her against me. It looked as if
my 'little head' had gotten me in trouble.
Trying to find a way around the wall that now seemed to exist
between us, I said, "I think the next time we try to make love, it
will be in a nice bed, with some wine, and all night to get it
right."
Shirley didn't respond at first. Then she looked over at me. I
could see a small tear in one eye when I glanced away from the
highway momentarily to gauge her reaction. 'Damn,' I thought. 'I
did push her too far, too fast. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to
cum in her mouth.'
Then I got a big surprise.
"I don't know how," said Shirley flatly, then she started to cry a
little. "God, I was awful. I feel like a klutz."
Intense feelings of relief and joy surged into my heart. 'Gad,' I
thought, 'If that's what was wrong with her, I know just the cure.'
I chuckled lightly, then held up my hand when she bridled. "Don't
you laugh at me, dammit. It's not funny."
"I'm not laughing at you, I'm relieved."
"Are you sure?" she asked pensively, then, "What did you mean by that
crack?" On that note I knew my new-found, almost in love, friend
was back in control.
"You have no idea just how erotic what you just said can be to a
man. Shirley, dear heart, I have never had a virgin. You just
don't understand men. Believe me, it will be my greatest pleasure
and joy to teach you anything you want to learn, and a few things
you might not even imagine."
"Shit, I'm not a virgin." Then she went back in silent mode.
"Oh damn, I blew it." This was all I could think of to say. It
seemed to help, and she began glancing at me, then shifted around so
she could look at me full on, the way she had been sitting on the
way down to Galveston.
"I don't care if you're not a virgin, even if you did get my hopes
up. Like I said, in many ways, you just don't understand men."
"I do too."
"No you don't."
"Yes, I really do. My grandfather taught me. And he knows
everything, or so he says."
"OK, so you understand men. Do you understand that a woman's
virginity isn't very important to building a lasting relationship.
Do you understand that I am old enough and have screwed around
enough that there is no way I could reasonably expect any female I
want to be with to also be a virgin? It's the late sixties, hon,
and all the unicorns have disappeared. Virginity is now an official
myth."
This seemed to hearten Shirley. She brightened up a little,
although she still looked at me as if trying to read my mind. Then
she said, "I got drunk."
"OK."
"No, I mean really."
"Again, OK"
"You shit. Let me talk."
"OK"
The tension was broken. I relaxed and resolved to listen to
whatever she wanted to say, for however long she wanted to talk.
***
End of Part Two of Three parts
If any part is missing from your server, E-Mail me, I will respond.
observer@onramp.net
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