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Giving Thanks

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I remember her words. And that voice.“Do you want to fuck me, big boy?” She said such dirty things, which turned me on, but her voice had that squeaky cartoon-duck timbre—just barely female, just barely adult—which turned me off.I heard her voice before I first saw her, sitting in another booth at the roadside diner.“Mama wants a big sausage with her eggs, not a patty or some skinny little links,” she was arguing with the waitress to no avail. She was alone but kept a mumbled conversation going with herself as she ate. “Mama better get gas before she gets back on the road.”Having seen the waitress making the round with refills, I was gulping the lukewarm coffee from my cup when “Mama” jostled my arm as she forced her way onto the seat beside me. She ignored the small spill she caused and put her arm around my shoulder as if we were old friends.“I bet you have something Mama would like,” she whispered into my ear. The waitress gave me a sympathetic smile when she refilled my cup but wasn’t going to intervene.“See that camper?” she pointed to an old beat-up van in the parking lot, pressing her soft breasts against my arm as she reached across me. “Finish up and come give Mama what she needs to start the day.”I don’t get much interest from women, even when I’m looking for it.  It seemed implausible that she was hot for me, so I guessed she had some other agenda.“I don’t have any money,” I said quietly, not wanting to attract attention. The other diners might have noticed when she sat next to me but had gone back to their breakfasts.“That’s a good one!” she laughed loudly, then spoke softly, “as if anyone would pay for this.” She waved her hand from her face down her body. “I know you’re broke; I saw your ride,” she gestured with her head toward the older and more beat-up subcompact I had arrived in.I had quit my dreary job and my dreary apartment to drive anywhere else for a while. My meager possessions filled the small car. The track I had been on since kindergarten had run out, and I had no idea which way I wanted to turn.“You just look like you could use the same thing I need.” Her breath was warm on my ear. “If you’re interested, don’t take too long.”She got up and stopped to pay her check, giving me a better chance to see her. Her round ass was held tight by worn blue jeans, but her boobs danced freely under her denim shirt. She had unruly curly clown hair, only the muddy brown color kept it from being explicitly funny.As I mopped the last of the yolk with the last of the toast, accepting her offer was not in the cards. I was sure she wasn’t serious and that I wasn’t the kind of person to hook up with a stranger. The back of my mind was full of suspicions of ulterior motives and deadly outcomes.“I apologize for yanking your chain earlier,” I heard her say to the waitress who rang her up. “I’ve done your job from time to time and should know better. Keep the change.”“Well bless your heart,” the waitress replied with a big smile. “Thank you!” I guessed it was a good tip.What seemed to be honest everyday joy on those two ordinary faces changed my impression of her. She seemed almost to dance as she walked to her van, never looking back to see what I might be doing.When the waitress brought my check, I asked, “Do you know her?”“Never seen her before,” she said. “I thought you two must be friends.”Her eyes dipped and I laughed as I remembered that I too wore a denim shirt and jeans. I handed her enough to cover the bill and a decent tip.“She was a little odd,” she said, looking to where the character had disappeared into her van. “But nice enough,” she added.I’d spent the night at the cheap truck stop motel. With neither destination nor deadline, there was nothing to make me rush off. Taking a deep breath as I stepped out the door, I started walking to where she was parked. There were no signs of henchmen ready to waylay me. The back door popped open when I got close.Inside it was cluttered but clean. Most of the space was occupied by a foam mattress with a few shelves and boxes of random stuff. The sheet showed fold marks, so I guessed she had just changed it.“I don’t want anything complicated,” she explained as she slipped off her shoes. “There’s a good chance we leave here going in opposite directions. I don’t need to know your name or your story and see no need to tell you mine. I think it’s enough that we share the same taste in clothes,” her grin was infectious, “and could both use an unexpected fuck.”She had unbuttoned her shirt and fly but waited until I did the same before she wiggled out of her pants and shrugged off her top. I tried not to stare as I followed suit. Neither naked body had been to a gym or a spa in a while—if ever. She gestured for me to lie next to her.I bent to kiss her mouth, but she shook her head. Pushing me on my back, she reached for my crotch. My dick was decidedly undecided at that point. The anticipation of sex had not yet overwhelmed the circumstances and those back-of-my-mind fears. Undeterred, her saliva-wet fingers talked my organ into cooperating.Her bonus veren siteler drooping breasts were squishy in my hands. As I palmed her nipples, they began to respond. Lifting a boob, I bent to suck the tip.“Mmmmm,” she hummed, whether from what I was doing or what was filling her hand. She gently pumped my shaft as it pulsed and inflated.That was when she uttered those immortal words. “Do you want to fuck me, big boy?”My cock in her hand throbbed in reply.“You better make Mama cum with your mouth first,” she said. My brain briefly noted but rejected the idea that this was an incest fantasy. She was only a few years older than me, and not the hot step-mother type. I was too old and disheveled to play the stud step-son. It was just one more quirk of hers.Not letting go of my cock, she rearranged herself with her head at my genitals and her bush in my face. When the tip of my cock felt the wet heat of her mouth around it, there was nothing to do but dive into the hairy landscape in front of me.As wild and curly as the hair on her head, it hadn’t met wax or a razor. I nuzzled it, inhaling her familiar yet unique scent before pressing my lips to determine the underlying geography.Without urgency, we sixty-nined comfortably on our sides. It was a good enough blow job. At least my penis in her mouth kept her from talking. Navigating the unfamiliar pussy took some attention away from the pressure that was rapidly building in my nuts.Parting fur and folds, my tongue found naked flesh, damp and salty, cranking up my libido. Almost like porn, it was a generic, unidentified pussy—in this case, literally, since I didn’t even know her name. My body knew how to respond to that.“Go ahead, stick a couple fingers in,” she encouraged. With what was happening between my legs and hers, four out of five senses stoked my fire, but the sound of her words kept me from overheating. Focusing on my work, I licked my fingers before pushing them into her opening. The well of fluid that had accumulated inside left no doubt about her excitement. Swirling them around, I tugged her protruding lips between mine.Her movements and whimpers told me I was having the desired effect. She had been polishing my head with her tongue when she paused, her hand gripping my shaft tightly.“Oh, baby,” she squealed, her voice getting higher and louder. “Mama’s gonna cum. Lick Mama’s clit!” Opening her with the fingers of my other hand, I zeroed in on the spot. “Faster,” she cried. “Just like that, don’t stop.”My tongue did its duty and before long her thighs closed a bit as her hips gyrated. I kept on target as she sang, “Oh ho ho ho ho ho!” like a soprano Santa Claus. “Oh ho ho ho ho ho,” she repeated as the spasms subsided. “Mama likey. You are such a good boy.”She slipped her hand between her clit and my mouth after she climaxed. It was hardly a count of ten before she was moving again.“Are you ready to give Mama that big sausage?” She pointed to a bowl with an assortment of condoms, then flopped on her back and parted her legs. Wrapping my pole, I moved into position. She pulled my cock against her opening and it slid in easily.“Yessssss,” she sighed. I looked down at her, seeing her for the first time.  Her half-closed eyes looked through me; her hands on my waist accepted me as I was; her body, warm and soft, offered me what she had to give.We jockeyed into alignment with the first slow thrusts, then moved to a steady rhythm. My chest flattened her tits as her hug drew my full weight onto her. Heads on shoulders, in anonymity, we performed that timeless ritual.“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she quacked in my ear. My head tried to ignore the comical sound as my hips followed her orders. It had been so long since my organ had known that hot, slippery grasp, I doubted I would last long. When she squealed, “Mama’s gonna cum! Keep going!” it gave me enough incentive to resist for a few more seconds.Her whole body stiffened. I held my breath as I kept my climax at bay, the slapping of our flesh the only sound. Shuddering a groan as the pleasure finally overtook me, I kept pounding as I filled the condom.Only when I had stopped spurting did I hear her giggling. “Mama really needed that.” She dropped her hands to her sides and I rolled out and off of her. Pointing to a box of tissues next to a trash bag, she didn’t allow any time for idle chat.She had pulled on her panties and was wriggling into her jeans by the time I dispensed with my output. I smiled at the sight of her wayward tits jiggling as she writhed.“I hope you got your money’s worth,” she smirked, chiding me for my earlier crass assumption. She busied herself straightening up as I dressed. There seemed to be nothing she wanted to say or to hear, so I suppressed my urge to talk.“Thanks,” “It was nice meeting you,” “Have a nice day,” all seemed inappropriate. When she moved into the driver’s seat, it wasn’t so much a dismissal as an assumption that there was nothing more.Silently, I exited the van, closed the door, and walked to my bedava bahis car.Alone this Thanksgiving, my thoughts are drawn to the women I have known and what they have given me. “Mama” will always be unique because I never knew her name. I have never been able to fit that one hour into the rest of my life. Its regular recollection suggests that she affected me somehow, but not in an obvious or specific way.Other than what first attracted her to me, there was no such question in my relationship with Ona, my first. To a nerdy virgin, all women were mysteries, but she pushed the envelope. With a short, asymmetric hairstyle, clothes in a dozen shades of black, dark, haunting eyes, and a sly grin that appeared at unexpected times, her strangeness was off-putting. The fact that she was a decade older and married made the attention she paid me even more confusing.Working in the same facility, but not together, we had seen each other and did small talk in the break room but didn’t know each other. Late one night, the power went out. As I made my way toward the exit, I discovered she was also there after hours. Dressed as usual, she appeared as a shadow in the dim emergency lighting.We speculated about when the electricity might be back. I wanted to wait, hoping it would return within an hour so I could finish what I needed that night. With nothing else to do, we got acquainted.Over the ensuing weeks, we became friends of a sort. I’d offer to pick up a sandwich for her when I went to lunch. She would send me an article about something. I don’t recall why, how, or when, but at some point, she learned of my persistent virginity and I learned that her husband was twenty years older than her and away in Europe for six months.Over time, our interactions evolved from witty to flirtatious. Despite the taboos and that she wasn’t my type, I couldn’t ignore her unfettered breasts that bobbed as she walked and her round ass that oscillated enticingly when she shifted her weight waiting for something to finish printing. She could make me tingle with a stare and a half-smile.Inexperienced, I was slow to conclude that her enticement was intentional.“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” I confronted her one night when we were both working late again.“No,” she seemed contrite for a moment, but then smiled and amended, “Yes.”“You have to stop,” I pleaded. “I can’t handle this.”“But I want to handle you,” she teased. When she saw my exasperation, she became serious. I was surprised to see tears well up in her eyes.“I can’t help myself,” she said with a catch in her voice. “I don’t know why, but I want you. I want to make love to you. I want to be your first.”It was my turn to get emotional. “But you’re married!” I protested.Ona seemed relieved to learn that that was my concern.“Oh, you sweet gentleman,” she smiled. “That’s not a problem. I thought you were rejecting me.”My failure to see the difference was plain on my face.“My husband and I have an understanding. I don’t expect him to be celibate while he’s in Europe, and he won’t mind if I have an affair or two before he gets back.” She explained it as if it were an obvious arrangement.“I guess all my cards are on the table,” she continued when I struggled to find words. “What do you want to do?”Of course, I wanted to do anything and everything that she wanted to do. She worried about other employees talking, so we agreed to tone our office-play down and avoid being seen together in public.She wanted my first time to be special, so she got a room for the weekend at a motel by the freeway. I couldn’t resist jerking off Tuesday and Wednesday, but I managed to abstain Thursday so I was ready to burst when I arrived at the room Friday evening.Ona practically yanked me through the door. She had fetched a bucket of ice, laid out drinks and snacks, and pulled back the bedding. Pushing me to sit on the bed, she started undoing buttons on my shirt. When it was open, she fumbled with my belt. I took over to finish undressing. When she was satisfied I was going fast enough, she quickly kicked off her shoes, pulled her top off over her head, and scraped off her panties and jeans.The way she leaped onto the bed, she seemed more eager than I was—which was hardly possible. When I joined her, she rolled on top of me, kissing me in a frenzy, her lips and tongue tasting and being tasted. With our legs interleaved, her soft belly trapped my rigid penis between us while her full tits mashed against my chest. My hands roamed from her shoulders to her ass. I had never felt so much warm skin against mine.I loved feeling her wriggling weight on me and was in no hurry to change anything, but Ona moved to kneel between my legs. She reached to her crotch, then held out her damp fingers.“Do you see what you do to me?” she chuckled. Wanting a closer look—and sensing she wanted me to—I sat up and took her hand. Holding it in front of my face, the scent was exotic and so human. My nerdy brain tried to analyze it; like the smell of my first Indian buffet, there were deneme bonus too many notes. Holding my breath in anticipation, I sucked her nectar. Like my first glass of red wine, the basic flavor was entwined with others that were strange and unexpected.Releasing her hand, I licked my lips, trying to recall all the sex advice I had ever read. “Can I eat you?” I asked, the brief taste whetting my appetite.“Not yet,” she laughed. “Tonight is for you.”Giving my chest a gentle push to have me lie back, she bent over my cock. My soft “aww” of disappointment was less about that postponement than watching her swinging breasts disappear from view. I had been so distracted by sampling her juices, I hadn’t properly admired her naked boobs.Ona wisely proceeded slowly. Her gentle fingers grasped the bottom of my shaft, feeling it twitch. She rubbed my balls and belly until it settled down, then slowly began to pump.  Avoiding the head and the sensitive underside, she let me get used to the attention. She dared to lick it only enough to lubricate her manipulation.From my frequent whimpers, she must have guessed I was so close that almost anything was going to set me off. Moving up, she straddled me, her knees astride my waist. Happy to have her tits within reach, I grabbed them as she leaned over me. By plan or accident, the distraction let my genitals retreat from the brink.“You don’t have to be so gentle,” she said, putting her hand over mine to mash her left globe more than I would have dared. Her fingers pinched and tugged her right nipple, making herself sigh. I tried the same action and she moaned softly, “That’s good.”When I lifted my head to try sucking on it, she pushed me back, deciding I had cooled off enough.“You probably won’t last long, but that’s okay. Just enjoy the feelings,” she instructed.No goddess was venerated more than Ona was by me at that moment. The heat of her flesh was a shock when she pushed my glans into her vagina. Leaning back, that perfectly engineered receptacle engulfed me in a smooth movement. Immobile, her pussy pressed hard against my balls, barely restraining my eruption. When my organ reached her temperature, it seemed we were fused together.“Ready?” she cooed, but I was too dazed to respond. She moved up and down at a slow even pace. Gradually, she lengthened her stroke and I momentarily worried I would pop out. But she correctly judged my length and the point was soon moot.I moaned loudly as I was pushed off the cliff, then stuttered, “Ah, ah, ah, ah,” as my cock shot out its streams of virgin liquor.Ona watched my reactions with hunger as she maintained her pace until she was certain I was empty. I couldn’t move as the ecstasy echoed through every nerve. When she settled back onto me, I was lost in a dream.Several deep sighs restored oxygen to my brain and I noticed that her hand was against her muff. Seeing my eyes look there, She grinned and moaned, “I am so… turned… on.”Before I understood, Ona was gasping, “I’m cumming!” As she squirmed through her orgasm, my sensitive still hard cock sent shocks of pleasure through me, making me squirm as well.She collapsed with me embedded inside her as we lingered in the afterglow. After a few minutes, she admitted, “I didn’t plan to cum, but you made me so hot, I knew it wouldn’t take much.” She hopped up to get us something to drink, showing off my spunk running down her thigh. When we finished, she noticed my still swollen dick.“Do you think I can make you cum again?” she asked.I didn’t confess that I had done so on occasion, but with a grin as big as hers I said “No harm in trying.”Ona sucked me off, surprising us both with how much cum I had retained or regenerated. When we woke in the morning, she taught me how to return the favor. After breakfast, we fucked missionary. We spent the rest of the weekend letting me explore and learn.For the remaining four months of her husband’s absence, we fucked every few days. I cleaned up my apartment and finally justified having a queen-size bed. We avoided contact at work, so no one knew what we were doing.It was a little sad when we knew it was our last time together, but I knew she wanted to reconnect with her husband and she knew I would want to connect with other women. The experiences we shared gave me the skills and confidence that would have taken years by trial and error with different women. I was no lothario, but I managed a sequence of relationships of various duration and satisfaction.I never had the nerve to ask Amber or her parents if her name was chosen anticipating that her skin tone would be a golder shade, and her hair would be a browner one, of her namesake color. Her sweet face, bubbly personality, and ample bust and butt drew the attention of a lot of guys, but I kept things professional. She was a decade younger than me and she would have been out of my league even if I had been her age.She was in the Human Resources department where I worked and our paths crossed on occasion. I was always polite and appreciative to people in that line of work since they were essential but never got any excitement or glory.One day I ran into her at my usual café. She was reading a book and I didn’t want to interrupt her but didn’t want to seem unfriendly. I paused to greet her briefly then looked for a table for myself.

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