(Since I started writing I’ve been asked on more than one occasion if my stories are true and I can honestly say that everyone of them is … in part. In every story, something is true. It could be a name, the description of a person, a location, or an event. I leave that to my readers to decide as part of the mystique. In this case, since it was related to me by a third party, I felt it necessary to let my readers know that this is not about my wife [if I have one]. Enjoy)
The silence of the early morning surrounded me as I looked down at the note and panties Micki had left me. The woman of my dreams had come back into my life … even if for just one night, offering me hope for the future.
Micki (aka Michelle, aka Jasmine) and I had met when her car broke down just outside of the town where I lived. Fortunately, for me, I was the only mechanic in the area. Even more fortunate was the fact that her car was a Porsche Boxter which I had no idea how to fix. That meant I’d have to have it taken to a fellow mechanic who was 45 minutes away and specialized in foreign cars.
That led to another problem … where could she stay. Of course, I offered to let her stay at my ranch which she reluctantly accepted. As would be expected we became lovers and I had the opportunity to explore every inch of her.
She stood, 5-foot, 8-inches tall, which was just a few inches shorter than me. She had auburn hair that hung down her back and seemed to change shades as the sun, or moon, reflected off it and her eyes were a captivating shade of jade-green that twinkled when she was happy or excited. She had creamy-white skin, which tanned to a tawny brown over the month that she lived with me, and freckles that were scattered across her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, and across her shoulders. But without a doubt the thing that drew my attention, and anybody else who saw her, was her chest. At 32DDD her breasts were the largest and most beautiful set I’d ever seen.
At the end of a month we finally got news that her car was fixed. That was when I told her how I felt and that I wanted her to stay. Instead, she broke my heart by driving away before the sun even came up. For the next six months, I acted more like a zombie than a human. Then, I got a postcard with a website address and a message to tune in. I recognized her handwriting and even though every bit of my mind screamed for me not to do it, I tuned in at the date and time written on the card. What I got was one of the most exciting evenings of my life.
There was Micki dressed in a sheer black top, black skirt, and black high-heels. For the next 30 minutes, she slowly did a striptease revealing inch by inch of her body until all that was left on was a set of nude-colored stockings, a black garter belt, her high-heels, and a black g-string.
That was when she told everyone that the next part of the broadcast was especially for me. She pulled out a dildo that looked exactly like my cock and began to suck on it, rub it over her body and ultimately fuck herself with it … the whole time telling those watching how much she missed me and wanted to be with me. So we met in the same spot where her car had broken down, but this time she had an RV. We fucked like wild animals before coming back to my … no … OUR farm. We spent the night cuddling in each other’s arms before she silently slipped away again, this time with a promise that she’d be back in two weeks.
The next two weeks dragged on, highlighted only by the visits to Micki’s (aka Jasmine) website. That morning I got up early and did all the chores around the ranch before taking a shower, the feel of the warm water cascading across my body reminding me of the time Micki and I had made love in that same spot. Afterwards, I got dressed and spent most of the day glancing at the clock. Finally, the mantel clock chimed 6 o’clock and I headed for the bar. Once there, I again, waited.
Six-thirty, seven o-clock, seven-thirty, eight o’clock, and still no sign of her. At ten o’clock I closed the bar since there hadn’t been a customer in for over an hour and headed to the spot she’d parked her RV the last time she’d visited me … still nothing.
Depressed, and angry, I headed back to the ranch and there, in the driveway, was a pearl-white ’76 Z-28 Camaro with candy-apple-red pin striping. “What the fuck?” I thought as I pulled my truck in behind the car and got out. When I walked past it, I ran my fingertips across the glossy smoothness of the hood. “Hmmm, cold. It’s been here awhile.”
I entered the house cautiously but wasn’t overly surprised at the sight of Micki standing by the stove cooking. She was dressed in a flannel shirt that was tied under her breasts, a pair of skin-tight jeans, and a set of black heels, along with an old apron that I’d had hanging on a hook. My cock, instantly, began to harden at the sight.
“Sit down. Dinner will be ready in a few moments,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder.
“What … I mean … how?”
“What? Get in?” she giggled. “That was easy. You gave me a key the first time I was here, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” I replied in a bewildered tone.
“As for when to have the food ready, I talked to Jimmy from the grocery store last time I was here and he said you usually closed the bar at about 10 PM.”
I laughed as I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her tenderly on the ear, whispering, “I’ll have to thank him.”
She sighed, “Mmmmmmm, I’ve missed this.”
“Me too,” I replied as my hands began to run up and down her sides, moving closer to her breasts each time.
For an instant, she seemed to melt in my arms, her body pressing against mine, her ass grinding against the growing bulge in the front of my pants. And just as quickly, she straightened up and gently pushed my hands away.
“If you keep doing that dinner is going to be ruined.”
“What if I want to go right to dessert?” I asked, in a low voice.
“You have no idea how much I’d love to,” she murmured, “but I need help with a project before we get to the fun stuff.”
I reluctantly pulled away. “What kind of help?”
“Sit down. We can talk about it while we eat dinner.”
A feeling of dread seeped into me as I took a seat at the table. Even the sight of golden-fried chicken, grilled green beans, and a fresh pot of tea did little to overcome the fear of what I thought I was about to hear. “How soon are you leaving?” I asked, suddenly.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, surprised by my question. “I just got here. That is, unless you don’t want me here.”
“Oh, I want you here. I want you here all the time,” I rasped, tears beginning to fill the corners of my eyes.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she whispered as she moved up next to me and cradled my head against her breasts.
“I get a feeling that this is a ‘good-bye’ visit.”
“No darling. Anything but that,” she laughed, softly, as she kissed the top of my head. “I wanted to tell you in person that my contract is over. There’s only one more thing I need to do and I want your help doing it.”
My heart leapt in my chest upon hearing her comments. “What kind of help?”
She released me and took a seat across from me before continuing. “Well, I … ummmmm … I need. Oh damn! I didn’t read all the fine print on my contract apparently and I need to do a set of nude pictures that my viewers can buy after I’m gone … and I want you to be the one that takes the pictures.”
“I’m not a photographer.”
“I know, but you know what might turn my viewers on and, more importantly, you know what turns me on.”
I chuckled, “I know what turns me on. I’m not sure about them.”
“Well then. Let’s make a set that you’d enjoy.”
The blood surged into the growing bulge in the front of my pants making me shift in place to try and relieve the pressure of being confined.
“You having a problem over there?” she snickered.
“What do you think?” I replied as I pressed the palm of my hand down on the growing lump.
“I think I may need to take care of that problem before we work on my project,” she answered, sensuously, as she ran the tip of her tongue across her lips.
“God, you can be such a tease.”
“It’s only teasing if you don’t plan on following through,” she whispered as she stood up and walked towards me, her hands untying the knot that held her top closed. Her timing was perfect. As soon as the knot opened she leaned over and pushed my chair away from the table.
Her breasts were being held in place, just barely, by a 3/4 cup black bra. The intriguing part was that the upper portion of the cup was sheer, revealing her nipples and areolae, while the lower part was a glossy satin.
“Like what you see?” she purred as she spread my legs and knelt between them.
“I always like the way you look.”
“Just sometimes more than others … right?” she said as she pulled the sheer portion of her bra down releasing her orbs.
I never had a chance to answer as she continued, “Or is it just that some parts of you like me more than others,” she finished as she ran her hands up my thighs and let them settle on the lump in the front of my pants.
“I … ahhhhhh.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said with as smile as her hands deftly opened my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and tugged them down low enough to release my hardened member. “Mmmm, I’ve missed this,” she sighed as she gently grasped my cock in her velvety-soft hands. “It’s so soft and warm, yet so hard. I dreamt of this the entire time I was away,” she purred as she slowly began to slide her hand up and down my shaft. “And this,” she continued as she leaned forward and ran her tongue up the underside of my cock making sure to tickle the nerve center in the ‘V’ of the head.
“Arrgghhhhh,” I groaned.
“So you like what I’m doing?” she teased.
“Yessss,” I replied as I laid my hands on her shoulders.
“Show me,” she murmured as she lowered her head and engulfed the head of my cock.
Instinctively, I slid my hands to the back of her head as I thrust upwards. My cock slid into the moistness of her mouth until it pressed against the back of her throat. I heard her gag and began to pull away only to have her change her position and lower her head again. This time I felt my cock slide deeper.