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Amy and Denise Ch. 02

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In defense of the activities in this installment I have to tell you that the idea came to me in a dream. In it, a good friend of mine (who sometimes appears in these stories as Julia), was reviewing my writing. She insisted – as if any moron could see – that this just had to be the theme for my next chapter. My wildest fantasies had never considered this activity but who am I to argue with the incredible Julia – not even in my dreams!

Sub, hoagie, hero, grinder, torpedo, po’ boy, wedge: whatever you call a sandwich on a long roll of Italian or French bread usually depends on your region and upbringing. Until recently, I leaned towards “Hero”.

However, once you start involving them in your sex life, you have to give this matter some additional thought. “Jerked off by a 6-inch hero”, “I fucked my sub”, “Getting your cock stuck in a grinder” and “Cumming deep inside a po’boy”, are all open to some serious misinterpretation.

To maintain focus and clarity in this story I think I’ll just be “on a roll”. [groan]

The day after my interesting encounter with Denise, Amy accosted me in my yard:

“Hey Thomas, Denise tells me you agreed to putting us up in the city. That will be awesome!”

“Hey Amy, no worries, it will be fun, I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m fucking dying for it!” interjected my mannerless cock.

“Oh, I can’t wait. I know you’ll take care of us. Do you want to have lunch with me to work out the details?” she asked.

We agreed that lunch would be nice, that it was my turn to host, no she couldn’t bring anything, and we’d meet in thirty minutes. Twenty-five minutes later I was showered and shaved and waiting like an over-anxious schoolboy.

Amy showed up right on time wearing a simple, blue summer dress and platform sandals that perfectly suited her public personality. Had she dressed for her actual mood, she would have needed considerably more latex and fishnet. She knocked on my kitchen door and stepped inside.

Now my kitchen is one of the least private rooms in the house. Amy’s house overlooks the half-glass door and window, Denise & Co have a more distant angle of the same, the window above the countertop looks over Barbara’s house and yard, and the dining room window makes the kitchen visible from the road and sidewalk.

Amy stepped up to me and give me a big hug and a short peck on my cheek. It was very appropriate for the location although I’m sure some tongues might wag that a pretty married blonde neighbor was spending alone time in the weird outsider’s house on a weekday afternoon.

And, if Denise caught sight of us, she might be very tempted bursa escort to come over and indulge in some serious tongue wagging herself.

“Call her!” suggested Mr Penis in his usual helpful way.

The lunch plan was quite simple given the supplies and time available: Panera tomato soup, some sharp imported cheddar, freshly sliced local ham and turkey, lettuce, tomato, Hellmann’s (in a squeeze bottle), and two long rolls of Italian bread. I explained this to Amy and she agreed happily. While we chatted I began to heat the soup on the stovetop and lay out the sandwich stuff, cutting boards, and utensils on the counter.

On the other side of the island, Amy started to discus the city trip excitedly. Staying with me would save them so much money. They were insisting on treating me on our Friday night out. It would be so good to see Claire at the baby shower. We were going to have so much fun.

“Talking of fun, I heard that Denise really enjoyed talking you into this.”

By now I just assumed that Amy and Denise told each other everything: “Yes, she was very persuasive. And I was pretty persuadable.”

“Oh yeah? I heard that she practically had to bend over backwards to talk you into it!”

With that we were off and the conversation descended towards the gutter.

“I was so shocked when she suggested it that I had to take it sitting down.”

“I’m sure she made it too hard for you to refuse us.”

The lines would have been corny outside of the context of our plan: take two, test-driven, sex-freak neighbors several hundred miles away from their husbands and families for a long-weekend sleepover with their current favorite man-toy.

“I’ve been wet all morning thinking about it.” said Amy bashfully. With that she stepped back from the counter and slowly adjusted her dress by rotating the waistline, adjusting the bodice, and subtly sliding her hands from her small breasts all the way down to her crotch. She paused there with her eyes closed and pressed the fingertips of her two hands into her groin. I watched transfixed while she caressed herself.

Hidden from the neighbors’ view below window level, she gathered up the hem and slooooowly began to reveal her golden thighs. I’m not quite sure how to explain how her borderline plumpness does not detract from the overall perfection of her smooth, tanned, and hairless legs.

The zenith of her tease revealed her naked pussy. It is one of the more beautiful ones with a long, tight slit surrounded by smooth, plump mounds. Her labia are hidden from sight until opened to reveal proverbial petals. She bunched the dress with one hand and slide her fingers bursa escort bayan along her bald pussy. Gently she toyed with her slit and her clitoris, occasionally dipping a finger tip inside herself.

With a little shudder she stopped and allowed the dress to fall back into place. As she brought her glistening finger to her lips for a taste I knew I was falling for her dangerously.

“Mmm, mmm, hmm, let me help you with something.” she said.

She stepped around the island and stood close to me. I was slicing the cheese with a sharp knife. She picked up each of the rolls in turn and spread them open along the cutline. With her left hand she took the mayonnaise and with the right she began to caress my ass. She alternated between kneading my buttocks and tracing the line of my ass crack with her fingernail. I halted my cheese slicing, frozen in place. My cock was delightfully hard. She continued to molest me out of sight while she squirted a bead of mayo onto the rolls for all the world to see.

“Mmm, looks like you need some help with the meat!”

She dropped to her knees and pulled down my sweat pants and underwear. I had to arch my back a little to keep my bobbing cock off of the cabinet. She began to kiss my ass cheeks and she reached around for my cock.

The unspoken “rules” we’d established on our first encounter were supposed to set a limit to our activities and I had genuinely intended to not complicate Amy’s life with actual adultery. All of this had come about since her husband Dave’s libido was lost along with his job and the intention was to simply help her with an outlet to her frustrations. I was aiming to avoid actual skin-to-skin sexual contact with her although she had crossed the line somewhat by holding the base of my cock during Denise’s bathroom blowjob at the recent party. In moments of weakness (such as now) I was beginning to resent the “rules”. Perhaps, I wondered, if we just stopped short of actual penetration…

“Perhaps you shut the fuck up and let me fuck her to death!” said my cock unhelpfully.

Amy began to kiss and lick my ass crack. She cupped my big balls with her palm, encircling my shaft with her thumb and index finger. I automatically bent lower and pushed back against her face; the cheese knife tumbled from my hand as her tongue licked and probed me from behind. My cock begged for her to stroke me till I came.

“Please, please, stroke me! Stroke me till I cum!” was how he begged and I kinda had to agree.

But Amy just continued to hold me tightly while she deepened her oral assault on my ass. On and on she continued until, when I felt the tip of her escort bursa tongue probe my asshole, I felt my stroke-free climax begin to build. Anyone watching at this point would have wondered about my rapturous expression as I bent over the counter to closely contemplate some basic sandwich makings.

Then she backed away from my asshole, released my cock, and reached up for one of the long sandwich rolls.

Her hand gripped my buttock and her thumb pressed against my saliva-slicked asshole. She clamped the bread over my cock. As her little thumb penetrated my anus she began to stroke me with the slippery roll.

“Mmm, mmm, Hellmann’s!” yelled my cock.

With the exhibitionist setting, the excruciating build up, the feel and texture of the improvised “Fleshlight”, plus the anal stimulation, the cum rose quickly through my balls and I began to spurt into the roll and through it onto the cabinet door. Amy immediately slowed her pace and held me firmly till my spasms subsided. Her thumb had been entirely in my ass and when she slowly removed it I twitched like a touretter while the last drops of semen were milked from my cockhead. Finally she de-breaded my shrinking cock, placed the bespoiled roll on the counter, and stood up to plant a swift kiss on my mouth.

“You dirty, dirty boy!” she whispered in my ear, “Go clean yourself up while mommy fixes lunch.”

When I returned from the bathroom all the signs of debauchery were gone and Amy was putting the finishing touches on our sandwiches. The cheese, the sliced meat, the lettuce were layered on the bread rolls but which one had been obscenely abused I could not tell. The soup was ready so I poured two bowls and placed them on the table. She indicated me to sit there, sliced each sandwich in half and arranged them on our plates.

In the unlikely event that you should ever find yourself in this situation, don’t spoil the moment by asking or even worrying about which roll has the special sauce. If Amy intended me to eat my own cum after that little performance, I wasn’t going to object. I took a spoonful of the tomato soup for courage and a brave bite of my sandwich at the same time she did.

“Mmm, mmm, delicious!” she grinned and wiped a small dollop of white stuff (mayo?) from her chin. Mine tasted delicious too.

Our conversation switched seamlessly to the logistics of the upcoming trip and fifteen minutes later she stood to leave. She pressed into me for a swift and reckless kiss near the kitchen door. If her tongue tasted of my ass or my cum I couldn’t detect it. She thanked me for a “delicious lunch” and sashayed off towards her home, her blue dress fluttering breezily as she went.

The scene was set for an epic weekend but, for now, my cock and I dutifully cleaned up the dishes:

“Fucking hell that was insane!” I said.

“My hero!” he intoned.


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