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From: "Paris Waterman" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
Subject: REPOST:  HELEN & I  Chapters 1-3 (10, 9, 9) MF
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HELEN AND I


By Paris Waterman


© Paris Waterman 1997

 

CHAPTER 1.

Helen is my lover. The question that continues to puzzle me is are we in 
love, or are we in love with lust?

We met at a neighbor's party on the Fourth of July, but another five 
months would pass before we became extremely interested in each other.

How shall I describe Helen? My first impression was of her long graceful 
legs and marvelous ass barely hidden behind denim shorts. I was moving 
across the room to be closer to her when she turned to face me. 
Well...deja vu! There was the face I had dreamed of since puberty.

Glasses that seemed to be slipping dangerously down her nose covered 
Helen's exceedingly green eyes. In terms measured as drop-dead gorgeous, 
she possessed a generous, but perky nose. Her face was surrounded by 
luxurious auburn hair. This combination made for striking features. As I 
recall, she wore a Tee shirt that read "Hi Sailor!" across abundant 
breasts. Our eyes met, and I introduced myself and learned her name was 
Helen, but I moved past her to the bar and lost the opportunity to 
engage her in further conversation. Later, months later, I found Helen 
to be smooth and lustrous, both in style and form. But on that July day 
nothing happened beyond that casual introduction.

I do have a wife - Maggie, whom I love very much. Several years ago 
there was an accident, a terrible accident. Now Maggie remains in a coma 
with little hope of recovery. I managed to function, but the stress of 
Maggie's condition, job pressures and bills combined to wear me down. My 
poor performance at work was the first signal. I was in a funk of 
despondency and couldn't lift myself out of it. The household chores 
didn't get done. Dishes piled up; beds went unmade and unchanged. Worst 
of all, I sat by Maggie's bed in the skilled nursing home and stared off 
into space. I had become useless to everyone.

It was my Mother-in Law, Tess who pried me loose from my mired mind. 
"I'd send you to the doctor if I thought it'd help," Tess said. "But 
what you really need right now is to get laid." I was jolted into 
reality. "What did you say? I love Maggie, and she..." "Oh shut up," 
Tess growled. "I know what I'm talking about. If I thought Maggie would 
be offended I'd never suggest it, but it's exactly what she'd want for 
you." Tess went on. " Life goes on. Find someone. Start a relationship. 
Get on with your life." With that said and tears rolling down her face, 
Tess went home and left me alone to think about it.

 

 

CHAPTER 2.

It was a frigid, bleak, December day when Helen and I met the second 
time. We were several minutes into a general conversation outside the 
local Harris Teeter with our shopping carts head to head. I was pleased 
that Helen actually recalled our meeting last July. There were dark 
storm clouds rolling in and the turbulent winds sweeping across the 
parking lot forced Helen's skirt to mold itself to her body. She might 
as well have been nude from the waist down. I felt my cock become rigid 
for the first time since Maggie's accident. I remembered what Tess had 
told me. I looked at Helen and found her staring at the bulge in my 
pants. Why I said it I'll never know. But I do things like this on 
occasion, just on impulse. "Well, I guess you can tell that Bubba and I 
are glad to see you." Helen snorted twice then burst out laughing. I 
allowed a smug grin to cross my face. Inside I had begun to glow. I was 
being reborn. God, she was beautiful when she laughed. And what a laugh 
it was. A genuine laugh, nothing held back. (Later that night Helen told 
me that was the first time she had really laughed in over a year. Her 
divorce had caught her by surprise and left her devastated.) She smiled 
at me. Her smile contained hidden promise and intrigue. My cock was at 
full mast now. The blustering wind whipped my slacks around my legs 
making my hard-on very conspicuous to onlookers. Fortunately for me they 
were some distance away, too busy fighting the wind to notice my best 
friend Bubba's emergence. Helen, still smiling said, "Tell Bubba I'm 
glad to see him too." She kissed me on the lips and turned to go. No! I 
thought, don't let her go! I managed to stammer out an invitation to 
dinner that night. She declined, but was still smiling, when she said, 
"I can't do dinner, but do come over to my place about nine tonight. 
Here's my address and phone number." Numbly I accepted. Bubba erupted in 
my pants.

I managed to drive home without getting into an accident. I recall the 
clouds were black and threatening, and the wind buffeting the car, but 
my heart soared, I was above it all. And Helen was the wind beneath my 
wings.

CHAPTER 3.

I arrived home, took one look around and was amazed at the slovenly 
appearance of each room I entered. I began a non-stop cleanup campaign. 
Kitchen first. Strangely enough the necessary cleaning tools were 
readily available. (I had not used them very often following Maggie's 
accident.) The bedroom was torn apart and clean linen and bedding 
replaced scuzzy sheets and a stained blanket. Good news! The vacuum 
still worked. I used it until I thought the motor would burn out. I 
saved the bathroom for last. As I finished cleaning it I realized it was 
8 PM. I managed to shave without cutting my face up, showered and 
dressed. Giving a mental thanks to Tess for picking up my stuff at the 
cleaners I stepped into a pair of dark blue corduroy slacks, pulled on a 
light yellow sports shirt, grabbed my Marlboro Man jacket and headed for 
the door. After one step outside I returned somewhat chagrined that I 
had to add socks and loafers to my attire.

I was flying. Fortunately, Helen lived nearby. I walked, seemingly on 
air, regaining consciousness in time to ring the bell to her apartment.

Helen greeted me at her door wearing a black negligee, with some sort of 
dark green shimmer to it as she moved. I liked it. No, that's putting it 
mildly, I would have liked it if she were bundled up in a Russian army 
overcoat. I was stunned by it! Helen acted quickly to bring me out of my 
stupor. She put her arms around me saying: "How are my new good friends 
Jim and Bubba?" And she kissed me. A long, sloppy kiss. I was rusty and 
actually, so was Helen. But, hey! Once you learn how to ride a bicycle . 
. ..

We were grinding against each other before that kiss ended and the next 
one started. This one was deep, with her tongue pushing slowly into my 
mouth. Her breath tasted of cinnamon. There was a delightful fragrance 
emanating from her. I never remembered to ask what it was. What a wuss!

I began to flick my tongue over and under hers. We abandoned ourselves 
to the kiss. I moved my hands over her firm ass and clenched her cheeks 
with my fingers as I crushed her pelvic area to my loins. Our mouths 
never separated. Saliva began to build up. I swallowed it, and powered 
by a desire I had never known before, started moving my tongue at a 
frantic pace - in, out, over, and around. Helen matched me with her 
intensity. I broke the kiss only to move to her neck, which I started to 
suck and lick with the same energy I'd used with the kiss.

I had to touch her breasts, to suck her nipples, to lick her skin 
everywhere. So I did. Helen began to moan, and started licking my 
earlobe. I shuddered in pleasure. Pinching a nipple between my thumb and 
forefinger with one hand, while alternating between licking and biting 
the other nipple. Although already rigid, her nipples seemed to increase 
in size as I played on.

I looked down and noted Helen's free hand caressing herself between her 
legs. She moved her lips back to my mouth and our tongues resumed 
wrestling. We lost our balance and fell, landing softly on a muslin 
colored couch. Helen, mouth still locked to mine, reached for my hand 
and placed it at the junction between her legs. Her panties were so wet 
at first I thought she'd pissed in her pants. (I really was rusty.)

Two of my fingers found their way inside the panties. Eventually, I left 
her mouth and breasts to concentrate on her sopping wet cunt. She 
rotated her hips against my fingers, indicating the place, pace and 
pressure she needed. I increased the tempo and she began to come. With 
the lower portion of her body quivering uncontrollably, Helen came a 
second time. Hell, maybe that was still the first one, I was not keeping 
track, and I had too many other things going on. I withdrew my fingers 
and instantly Helen got quite vocal about what she wanted me to do next. 
She got what she wanted as I buried my face in the thick auburn hair 
covering her cunt and tasted her juices for the first time. Oh! God! The 
sweetness!

My tongue entered her cunt as far as it could. (Just testing, someone 
once called me a dipstick, and I . . .well, you know . . ..)

I started licking along the folds of her labia, alternating from one 
side to the other, deliberately avoiding contact with her clit. Instead, 
I shifted position slightly and began licking her asshole, which had a 
rather pleasant pungent taste. (Another victory for mind over matter. 
Actually, Helen was dishwasher clean.) My tongue's contact caused her to 
heave away from me as though she'd been shocked. (Later I learned this 
was indeed the case.) But, her ass returned to my tongue quickly enough. 
When a sufficient amount of saliva was deposited, I stiffened my tongue 
and penetrated her asshole.

Why would I do this you ask? For the same reason Hillary (Edmund, not 
Clinton, climbed Everest, that's why - because it was there). This 
produced a sharp gasp from Helen. Moments later, she started cuming 
again. She began a convulsive wriggling, and my tongue was momentarily 
trapped in her hole. I panicked, and slapped her ass hard, causing her 
muscles to relax momentarily and regained the use of my tongue. My God, 
this woman was hot. (Does this momentary reflection mean that my mind 
was not totally in the gutter, but engrossed in philosophic trends of 
thought regarding . . ..)?

Oh, shit! We were falling!

Closely entwined, we rolled slowly off the couch to the plush, dark 
green carpet below.

Bumpily-bump-bump! That proved to me that there's a time to think and a 
time to act. I returned to the action.

After removing her panties, I slowly inserted the wet index finger of my 
left hand up to the second knuckle in her ass without any difficulty. 
Two fingers on my right hand returned to their earlier journey, sliding 
in and out of her cunt, the entrance of which was now covered with white 
foam. (All this per the instructions on page 17 of the sex manual I 
bought at a garage sale last week.)

Helen was moaning, "Give me your cock! Come on, fuck me!" I ignored her 
plea, never feeling more powerful. "Not yet," I growled, between licking 
and sucking her hardened nipple. Then I lowered my head to her frothy, 
succulent cunt and sought out her clit. I lifted my head and glanced up 
at Helen as she lay there on the carpet. The richness and intensity of 
her once pale complexion now splotched with crimson blushes; coupled 
with her tousled, auburn hair and lust filled, smoky green eyes was a 
stark contrast against the dark emerald green carpet. (I reprimanded 
myself, insisting that I get the hell out of English 101, and back to 
the good parts.) So I did.

I returned to her blood engorged clit and lightly licked it. Helen 
clenched the carpet, grabbing a fistful in each hand as she cried out, 
"That's it baby! Oh, God! Do that . . .. Yeessss! Oh, God! Oooh, God! I 
had taken her clit between my teeth and very gently nipped it with my 
teeth. The musky odor from Helen's sopping wet cunt was overpowering. I 
came up for air, then quickly lowered my face back into the wet, 
ferruginous colored curls comprising the hairy bush surrounding her 
wondrously sweet tasting cunt.

Helen screamed out in pleasure at the moment of contact when I resumed 
nibbling her clit. Her entire pelvic area was rotating in a circular 
fashion. "Oh, oh, oh, God, oh, God, I'm gonna explode" Helen shrieked. I 
thrust my tongue deep inside her, and wedged a second finger deep into 
her asshole, and began moving both in and out at rapid pace. (I think I 
could have fisted her ass at this point.)

Helen started thrusting her ass toward the ceiling. I nipped at her clit 
one more time, and held on slowly increasing the pressure. Helen 
screamed, "I'm cumming! Oh, God I'm cumming. Ohhh, please stop! I can't 
take anymore!"

She seemed serious about my stopping, so moments later I released her 
clit, gave her ass one last frig and kissed her softly on the mouth. She 
tried to return the kiss, but couldn't. "I'm dead," she said. "I can't 
believe how I feel. I'm in Heaven, Ohhhhh, I can't stop cumming!" I held 
her close, alternatingly kissing her neck, her shoulder and then her 
breast. I kept my hand pressed firmly against her wet mound, which was 
soaked with a combination of my saliva and Helen's juices. Helen 
shuddered when I licked her nipple, then gasped and said: "My God, we 
haven't fucked yet!" I smiled and replied, "that's all right honey. Me 
and Bubba can wait awhile. We have all night don't we?" "We sure do," 
she sighed. That being the case, we both fell asleep wrapped in each 
other's arms. 

For other stories by Paris Waterman try:
http://www.members.xoom.com/Pandas_Pen/index.html






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