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If you like pussies and assholes as much as I do (I think they’re beautiful as well as tasty!), you’ll love Coulter’s Crazy Babe because he loves them, too. What does that mean? Lots and lots of close-ups, silly!

Kelsey’s always been good to me (she gives great head!), so of course I agreed. She was so happy she took us to Carabbas Italian Restaurant for dinner…yum!

Kelsey actually used to be a fashion model. Now in her 30’s, she too old for the runways, but she is full of wild tales about the nightlife led by the fashion model. Don’t envision some anorexic stick figure though. While I’m sure she weighed less when she was a model, she’s no stick figure, and her boobs are a right proper C-cup, not a B or A. Best of all, she has those puffy nipples which I love. They get puffier when I suck on them, of course…heh heh.

After dinner, we started poring over the files. I felt for Kelsey. She was in no serious danger of being fired, but a serious fuck-up could easily have stalled her upward mobility. She was a good friend and I wanted to help. And I really could help since I was not only more familiar with the files, but with the most likely ways things become misfiled.

Time dragged on: 7 p.m., 8 p.m., 9 p.m., 10 p.m. At around 10:30, I threw my arms up in the air and yelled, “I found it!” Kelsey put down the file folder she was looking through and smiled. I ran over and showed it to her. “Yes! That’s it! Oh thank you, thank you!!!”

She took me in her arms and hugged me. I hugged her back. The next thing I knew, our mouths were open and our tongues were caressing, when all of a sudden she stopped dead. I looked into her face and saw she was looking over my shoulder. I turned to see one of the cleaning crew, a handsome young black man, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Kelsey said, “Hi, my name is Kelsey, what’s yours?” “Ned,” he replied softly. “Let’s do him!” I whispered eagerly in her ear. “Just what I was thinking,” she whispered back.

“Ned,” she said, “close and lock the door.” “Why?” he asked. “For privacy, silly.” “We’re going to fuck your brains out, and we wouldn’t want you to lose your job.” The precious boy was almost terrified. “Don’t worry about anything,” Kelsey said. “If anyone asks where you were, we’ll tell them you were doing some special work at my request.”

“Ummm,” he said, looking around, as if for someone to give him advice. For a moment, I almost wondered if he would turn us down, but at last he locked the door and headed our way.

When he got there, Kelsey pulled down his zipper and out came what I can only describe as a black anaconda. As big around as my wrist, and though still flaccid, nearly as long as my forearm, it was a cock of mythic proportions.

“My oh my,” said Kelsey, bug-eyed, her comment followed by a lascivious leer. My jaw was on the floor.

Kelsey pulled him close and pulled his cock up and down rhythmically. I unbuttoned my top, exposing my breasts which, compared to his cock, I admit, look rather normal.

Since she was Frenching him, I broke her grip on his cock, dropped to my knees, unhinged my jaw (I’m kidding), and did my best to suck him off without scraping the skin off his cock with my teeth.

Unfortunately, the more I blew him, the bigger his cock got. Finally, all I could do was lick it.

I stood up took off my skirt and then my panties. I then pressed his cock up against my pussy, holding it there with one hand while I moved my hips. He respondes with a rhythmic motion of his hips. I tipped my hips so that his cock rubbed my clit and did all I could to fight off an orgasm.

Kelsey let go of him, took off her own skirt and panties, sat on the table, and hooked her heels into the table edge, her knees far apart. The invitation was obvious and he accepted, dropping to his knees to worship and lick her furry vulva.

Dropping to my own knees, I pulled his pants down, jacking him off slowly. This went on for a few minutes. I then licked the “fuck you” finger of my other hand, making it plenty wet. I slid my finger into his asshole slowly, until I was all the way in. This allowed me to massage his prostate while still working his cock, which frequently makes guys come right there, but Ned resisted, and I could tell he was plenty excited from the rock-hardness of his dick.

So could Kelsey, because his attentions to her pussy became quite a bit more vigorous and effective, and she made sounds as if she was about to cum. This made him even more vigorous in his efforts on her pussy.

She came hard and pushed him off and sliding down into a heap on the floor. I pulled Ned up and sat him on the table, his feet on the floor and his huge cock pointing straight up at the ceiling. I had been masturbating him before, but now I could do it even more vigorously. As I pumped his stupendous cock I sucked the wrinkled sandpapery skin of his balls into my mouth.

When he seemed on the verge of ejaculation, I would stop jacking him off and just lick the shaft, feeling the bulging veins sliding up and down my tongue.

When he calmed down, I would suck and lick his glans to get him started again.

All of a sudden, he stopped being passive, pushed me to the floor and fucked me hard missionary while licking my neck and cheeks and giving me deep, probing Frenches on the mouth. Gathering up my legs and pushing them up to my shoulders, he pumped me deep and hard and had me coming like crazy, but his pumping was so violent and mindless, I’m sure he was unawares.

And so I came…and came…and came!!!

Then, he rolled me over, pulled my hips up so that my butt was up in the air but my shoulders and cheek were laying on the floor in a “low doggy” position. At the same time, I was signaling Kelsey to slide over, and when she did, I tongue-fucked her as hard as I could while she clamped her hands on my head to help me.

After a few minutes, Ned pulled out. The next thing I knew, his cock was pushing into my ass and, of course, I was cooperating as best I could, though he was so big it was a real effort. When he was finally full in, it was painful. But it was that “It hurts so good” kind of pain!

I helped Kelsey roll over and while I was being butt-banged, I rimmed Kelsey, enjoying the stinging taste of her asshole as it filled my mouth.

Once again, Ned had me cumming like crazy and once again he was totally oblivious, concentrating as he was on getting his own rocks off.

I could tell he was getting there, so I pushed him off and rolled over, grabbing his cock and, holding the tip over my chin, I jacked him off until he ejaculated sloppily into my mouth, over my nose and eyes, forehead and hair. And when he was done, I sucked the jizz off his dick, off my hand, and I ate whatever cum I could gather off my face. …It was tasty.

Ned stood up, pulled his pants up, rearranged his clothes, and said “I better get back to work.” Grabbing the two wastebaskets, he unlocked the door, dumped them into the bin in his cart, and disappeared.

After he was gone, and while Kelsey and I were getting dressed, Kelsey remarked,”I don’t think he said more than 10 or 15 words!” I thought and said, “I think you’re right!”

“Want a drink on the way home?” Kelsey asked, adding, “There’s a new Martini bar near the mall.” I had a Martini and Kelsey and I agreed, the Martinis tasted a lot like Ned.

Which was nice…

Erik had to stay behind at the last minute. He got sent to Australia to save an important sale and had left at 4 a.m.. So, I found myself alone the last day in my Bremen hotel room after he had left, packing my things, and wishing he were there with his great sense of humor, his irritating jokes, and his tender hugs and kisses. I missed him!

By 11 a.m., I was at the airport waiting for the Lufthansa to London. On the way to the airport in a Mercedes-Benz taxi (they all seemed to be Mercedes, everywhere I went!), I got my last appreciation of this beautiful and friendly city.

Sometime after 3, I was London’s Gatwick airport in a bar nursing a Spanish Coffee and reading a Vanity Fair.

“American?” said a male voice with a mild accent I couldn’t quite place. He was toting a rather small suitcase with a tall extender handle.

“Yes. Is it so obvious?” I replied.

“Just a guess. I don’t think Vanity Fair is a big magazine outside the U.S., except possibly in writer’s circles. But mostly it was due to the tag on your suitcase.”

I blushed at not realizing I was carrying around a dead giveaway.

His accent, I had decided was German, and he would have been, had we been in the 1930’s an exemplar of Hitler’s Aryans: blond in the hair, blue in the eyes, and the picture of good health. (Of course, in reality, the real Aryans were dark in the hair, brown in the eyes, and came from modern-day Iran, not Viking country).

“May I join you? I have a little time before my flight, and you look like good conversation.” “And you look like a good fuck!” I was thinking. “Sure, have a seat. I was just finishing the last of the articles I had wanted to read anyway, so you’re probably saving me going over to the magazine rack and buying me another one.”

He sat down opposite me, sinking into the plush lounge chair and crossing his legs.

He asked me what I had been reading, and as I told him about each article, it set us off in a different direction. Politics, travel, music, automobiles, and food are among the topics we discussed for several hours. Somehow, we never got into the personal area.

The more we talked, the hotter I got. Finally, I looked at my watch, realized I would be boarding my plane in less than an hour, and, looking around, said, “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to fuck!”

Somewhat shocked at my forwardness, he said, “Uh…well…so would I!”

“But,” I added, “I don’t know how to accomplish it here. Any ideas?”

He thought a bit and said, “I think I do. Come with me.”

At his side, he navigated the airport like he’d been there many times, which I guess he probably had. This was confirmed when he said, “There is an area I go to when I want to take a nap or just enjoy some peace and quiet.”

Before long, we were in an area of the airport used by official airlines of small and poor countries. Eventually, we had passed three or four waiting areas on each side without seeing a anyone.

He guided me to a row of seats facing a window and sat down. I sat down next to him. He looked at me appreciatively for a few seconds and then planted a dry kiss on my mouth. I kissed back, mouth open, and our tongues got busy.

He was fondling my breasts through my blouse and I was unbuckling and unzipping his pants, where I found a semi-erect penis. At least it wasn’t tiny! In fact, it was rather large-ish, if you know what I mean.

His cock grew in size as we kissed and petted each other. My nipples were by now rock-hard and had gotten very sensitive.

I got up and helped him get his pants and boxers down to his ankles. I knelt between his knees and took his stiff pecker into my mouth, circling the glans with tongue until I tasted some of his salty cock juice. Wow! That made my pussy kind of spasm and I got tingly all over. (The gals will know what I’m talking about.)

He’s moaning kind of low and sliding forward in his seat. I’m not sure why guys like that, but they like to get kind of almost on their back to get a blow job, and he was no exception.

I looked at his sopping wet cock and realized that in sucking it, I’d added at least another inch to it, and the girth had grown a bit as well. It now had thick bluish veins and a glans that looked like some obscene pink mushroom.

After a bit, I got up and standing first on one leg, then the next, I took my panties off, twirling them around my finger with a smile and winking at him.

I got onto my knees in the seat next to him, facing backward, in a doggy position. He took his boxers and trousers off, and flipped up my pleated skirt. Instead of fucking me right away, though, he got down on his knees and licked my pussy with a great degree of expertise. I laughed and said, “I see you’ve done this before!” He laughed as he licked and said, “Practice makes perfect!”

It sure does!

Woow!!! The next thing I knew, he was sticking his tongue deep into my asshole, which just gave me major shivers. And as if that weren’t enough, he was three-fingering my pussy with one hand and stroking my tummy with the other.

I just about passed out I was having so much fun. Just then, it got even better because he stopped what he was doing and I felt him enter my love canal, which you’d better believe was lubricated like crazy by then. He slid right in and started banging me hard. I crossed my arms and rested one cheek on them, closing my eyes, so I could think of snips and snails and puppy dog tails while he slowly brought me to a tumultuous and (I’m afraid) noisy series of wet orgasms because, as you may or may not know, I’m a squirter.

I thought he deserved a good finish, too, so I turned around in the seat to find him leaning against the glass, his cock still in full erection. I dropped to my knees in front of him and started blowing him with every trick in my rather extensive book, and he alternately growled and groaned as I did so. I could tell he was about to cum when he pushed me back and asked, “Do you like it ass-wise?” “Brother, do I!” I replied. “I thought you might, you little tart you! Lay down.”

I was on my tummy in a flash, and soon I felt him probing my pussy. He used my own wetness to lubricate my asshole and soon I felt his rigid rod pushing against my anus. I did my best to relax and, sure enough, he was slowly sliding in. Fuck! He felt big inside me. I raised my butt a bit to make it easier for him and even humped a bit myself once I found his rhythm.

This is when I thought I heard someone talking, and I whispered, “Quiet! I think someone’s nearby!”

So, he fucked my ass there, driving me crazy, and we did it without making a sound.

I was fiddling with my clit as he did so and I could feel an orgasm slowly rising within me. When at last I came, I don’t know how I did it silently, but I think I did. Somewhere in there he came, too, because when he pulled out, it was a very wet exit.

Because I had an asshole full of semen that I didn’t want in my underwear, I told him I needed to visit the restroom. He looked at his watch and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m already very late for my flight.” I waved him off and he was gone in a sprint. I soon followed, looking intently for the nearest restroom, my anus bunched tight to keep his deposit from running down my inner thigh and possibly soiling my skirt.

It took a couple minutes, but I found one and, as I sat down on a toilet, I was glad to be able to let his whiteness drop into the bowl. Looking at my watch, I realized my flight was probably about to board, and, putting my panties back on, I myself trotted back to the main concourse, finding my gate just in time. Lufthansa was about to give my seat away to some stand-bys.

I wish I could tell you that I joined the “Mile High Club” on the way back, but actually I read about 100 pages of a paperback book I’d brought with me and slept the rest of the way mostly.

As I left the plane in New York, the crew was waiting at the door to greet us and wish us farewell. As I got there, Hilde and Renata, smiling, said a standard good-bye. At that moment, the Captain appeared in the doorway.

Guess who he was!

Erik’s family came to Ohio from New England. His great grandfather was a Norwegian whaler sailor who (metaphorically) dropped anchor in Maine, taking instead a job as a fireman for a train line. I gather a fireman is the guy responsible for feeding coal to the boiler of a steam engine. As time went by he was promoted to an engineer, the guy who runs the steam engine.

Erik’s father came to Ohio, also working on trains as a mechanic in the Collinwood Train Yard. He was ambitious, went to night school, and got a business degree. Then, he got a law degree, started a legal practice, and became fairly wealthy in the intellectual property field.

Somewhere in there, late in life, Erik’s father met Erik’s mom, who worked as a legal secretary for another attorney. They dated for a year or so, his father proposed, and in another year or so Erik came along.

Erik’s father was very old school and Erik did not live a life of exceptional privilege despite his family’s circumstances. His dad insisted that he do chores around the house and, rather than receive an allowance, he learned to work for every dollar he got.

In his teens, Erik started a lawn mowing business in the neighborhood in the summer and a snow shoveling business in the winter, with leaf-raking and gardening work in the fall and spring. He took care of people’s pets when they went on vacation and he washed cars year round. He learned values that he carries with him to this day. He’s a workaholic in the good sense of the word. He’s not happy if he’s not doing something.

Miss Daphne Smada was a career woman in her 40’s who lived across the street and two or three houses down from Erik’s Beachwood, Ohio, home. She took pretty good care of herself and was frequently to be seen jogging or working in her yard in snugly-fitting short shorts with a blouse tied in a knot at the bottom and unbuttoned enough to show plenty of her rather ample cleavage. He thought of her as pretty hot.

It was winter and he was walking back from the bus stop amidst a squall. She was in tight jeans and a short down jacket with a hood. “Would you like some help?” he asked. “How much will it cost me?” she replied. “Oh, $20 should do it,” he said. She handed him the snow shovel and said “Come around the back when you’re done.”

Well, the driveway was long and it took him an hour to finish. He walked to the back door, propped the shovel up next to it and knocked. When she opened the door, he stepped in to discover that she was in an oversize T-shirt she was wearing like a dress.

“You must be cold,” she said. “I made you some mulled wine.” “I’m just 16,” he told her. She replied, “That’s okay. I brought it to a boil.” (She lied.) He doffed his jacket and drank several glasses.

Erik got a little drunk and she invited him into the living room to watch some hockey. He watched for a while but alcohol put him to sleep. When he opened his eyes, he found that he had an erection and that it was in her mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”

“No…no. Not at all!” he replied.

He tells me that even though this wasn’t his first blow job, it was the best he’d ever had up till then.

She got him off…even letting him cum in her mouth.

When he left, he left with $50, not $20. Not a bad day for a 16 year old boy. Better yet, she asked him if he’d be available in the future.

Of course, he told her he was totally “on call.”

She called him pretty much weekly, and the pattern was pretty much shovel snow, get a blow job and $50. Help her plant pansies, get a fuck and $50. Help her plant grass seek, get an ass fuck and $50.

He was well on his way to financing his own higher education.

Early that summer, she asked him to help her set up a Canasta party and serve the snacks and drinks. No sex happened until the gals left, but this prompted Daphne to ask him if he could bring some friends to the next gathering. He said he thought he could, knowing exactly what she wanted.

More yard work and more sex went by. Three months later, she had another Canasta party with three of her friends. Erik brought along three of his best buddies. When the card game finished, the guys brought out the drinks and everybody got drunk and comfy and before long it was (as Erik described it) “Fuck and Suck City.”

These were all unmarried professional women who were a bit too old to be doing the “meat market” thing. At the same time, they were all very fit women with fine bodies and perhaps a wrinkle or two, and they were a lot more ready to “put out” (as the guys saw it) than the girls they went to school with.

Well, almost every month one of these women would throw a card party and the boys would show up and each go home with $50 and a pecker sore from overuse.

As Erik went on to college at a local private school, this relationship continued and even expanded. As the word got out, Erik was relied upon to supply help and entertainment for all-girl events put on by Daphne and her ever-expanding circle of friends.

No, Erik wasn’t really “pimping,” because he never took a fee, but he was relied upon to supply talent and for this he was highly regarded both by the women and male population of his school.

Eventually, Erik graduated and went on to a well-known East Coast business school, leaving this “business” behind.

After Erik and I hooked up, we were out shopping one day and Erik ran into Daphne, introducing me to this woman about whom I’d heard so much.

She was still hot, and so I invited her over to our place for dinner. She seemed a bit nervous about it, but agreed when Erik repeated the invitation.

When the day finally arrived, she came, bringing an expensive bottle of French Sauvignon, which was good, since I was cooking up some Tournedos Rossini.

We drank some wine to loosen up before dinner.

During dinner, as we all had more alcohol, we loosened up.

After dinner, I served my patented flan with a large strawberry on top.

We then retired to the living room to drink some Port.

I decided I needed to break the ice, so I went right to it: “I understand that were one of Erik’s first sexual experiences.”

I think she gulped. She looked at Erik who smiled and winked at her.

She didn’t say anything.

I said, “Unless I’m totally misreading Erik, he still thinks you’re hot. As a matter of fact, so do I!” Given this permission, Erik planted a kiss on her lips. At first she seemed tense, but she took a look at me, relaxed, and returned the kiss. I could see their tongues touching.

Soon, his hands were all over her, caressing her and undressing her from the waist up revealing rather large and perky breasts for a woman her age. And no, they weren’t fake. They were the real deal. By this time, I was massaging my pussy through the fabric of my slacks.

She got Erik’s big cock out of his pants and was licking the tip like there was no tomorrow. I like to see him get a blow job because I just like the look of his cock. He’s big: as far around as my wrist and about 2/3 as long as my forearm. Big as he was, she must have unhinged her jaw because, after toying with his glans for a while, she started deep throating him.

I took my slacks and panties off. Pulling a butt plug and a bottle of Astroglide out of a drawer in the end table next to the love seat I was on, I wetted it and slowly slid it in my ass. Wetting my finger in my pussy, I massaged my clit slowly but firmly while fucking my ass with the plug.

Daphne stood up and removed the rest of her clothes and Erik did the same. He sat down and she carefully sat down on his rigid cock, laying her back against his chest and resting her head on one of his cheeks. Her legs were hooked outside his, so she was open about as wide as she could be. He pumped her slowly and she moaned in appreciation.

Leaving the butt plug in place, I crawled across the floor on hands and knees until I was between their legs. She had the most beautiful hairy bush (even though I shave, I have a “thing” for bushy babes). She had kind of zoned out and jerked to attention the moment my tongue started flicking away on her unbelievably erect clitoris. My God! It was practically a little penis. I could actually get it in my mouth.

At first, she just looked down at me, but then she smiled.

Erik saw me down there and after a bit, pulled his cock out of her pussy and I sucked all of her pussy juice off it. The salty, musky taste made me quite excited. Before sticking in back in her dripping cunt, I admired it for it’s lovely mushroom-like pink tip and the bulging veins that gave it its power. With one last kiss to the glans, I popped it back in and this time he fucked her furiously, but she’s experienced at sex and was holding back for more. She wasn’t letting herself orgasm. Or so I surmise.

Anyway, she got up and turned around for some face-to-face fucking. Once again, Erik was insider her like a battering ram. I know well what this big cock feels like inside but I could only imagine the pleasure she was feeling, though I could tell from her moans and wails that she was well pleased.

“You can fuck my ass,” she said, and once again she turned, this time slowly squatting down on his cock until it was far in, then laying her back against his chest while drawing her knees up to her tits. Once again, I settled in between their legs, licking her pussy lips and clit as his cock, like a piston, drew in and out of her ass.

This time, between my attentions and Erik’s, she couldn’t evade orgasm and when she came, she came hard, with piercing cries and involuntary tremors.

At last, she had to fall off him onto the floor, and there the sounds she made seemed a mixture of laughing and crying. I turned away from Erik, in a low doggy position with shoulders, pussy, and cheek to the floor, that was an open invitation to fuck my ass, too. And that’s exactly what he did.

After a few minutes of mind-bending butt fucking and masturbating, he pulled out, and told me to lay on my back and bring my feet over my head in a position we both liked, with my legs spread wide and my toes pointing down toward the floor and my asshole pointing straight up. I like this position because I can watch him fuck my ass and he can easily cum on my face.

Before he came, he brought me to orgasm several times and I squirted all over my face.

When I’d had my share, Erik took his turn, fucking my ass hard until he was ready to cum, and when he came, he squirted all over my face and into my mouth.

Daphne, who had been laying on one side by now, her head braced on one hand, sat up now and applauded. I was laying on my back, catching my breath, but the applause made me laugh. She then crawled over and gently licked the jizz off my face and tits, depositing it in my mouth with tender kisses.

“Well that was nice,” Erik said, marking the end of the encounter. We all got up, grabbed our clothes, and after cleaning up a bit, donned our clothes again, and she politely bade us good-bye.

We never ran into her again and later heard the she had moved to Florida to be with her elderly mother.

Too bad. I liked her, and I often dream of her licking Erik’s sperm off my body and then putting it into my mouth with tender kisses.

Currently one of my best friends, I can remember seeing her in the halls or the library but I doubt if I ever said a word to her. Not that I was consciously giving her the cold shoulder, or her me. Our paths just never crossed, and you know when you’re a grade apart, it’s almost like being in different worlds.

I was reintroduced to her at a Christmas party last winter. The guys were off watching some kind of sport-oriented video (athletes running the wrong way or running into each other). I wandered into the kitchen to hang out with some of the other gals. The lady of the house had made some mead, which was both delicious and weird tasting. Kind of like wine but with no fruity taste.

We chatted about mundane things. I’m sure I could have made things interesting by going into some of my sexual exploits, but that was neither the time nor the place. Into the room walks this beautiful girl. The first thing I noticed was her wavy blond hair in a classic 1940’s-50’s wavy pinup girl hairdo that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Rita Hayworth or Marilyn Monroe.

She had the pinup girl build, too, with one minor exception. How shall I put this? She was “heavy with child,” to use the terminology of The Bible. And she was ready to pop. In fact, she looked like perhaps she should have popped two months ago. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a gal looking quite this pregnant. When she walked into the room, all conversation stopped and remarks were made about her size, when is it due? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?

She politely answered their questions. It was due last week. It’s a boy. We also found out that her husband who had been around all last week when the baby was due, had had to go to Texas to handle a business emergency. We found out that he traveled a lot on business doing computer installations and troubleshooting sites that were experiencing problems. To me, it sounded a lot like my relationship with my cohabitor, Erik, who was out of town half to two-thirds of the time. In fact, I had come to this party on my own because Erik was working on a deal in Singapore, though he promised he’d be back for Christmas, still nearly a week off, no matter what.

We broke off at one point, and that was when we discovered we had attended the same school on grade apart. Suddenly, her face, which had at first been vaguely familiar, became quite familiar.

We hit it off so well what with common interests in books and movies, that everyone else left and our hostess finally had to guide us to the door.

Just as we were saying our good-byes at the door, Adrienne’s water broke right there on the front stoop! The poor girl almost instantly went into hard contractions. Our hostess called her husband and between him and me we got her to my car sitting on a towel, and I headed off to the hospital with him behind us to make sure we go there safely.

We got her into the ER, and I thanked him for his help. I told Adrienne I’d stay with her. It was a Friday evening, Erik was away, and I didn’t want to leave this newfound friend to get through the birth on her own.

A nurse took her into an examination room and determined that she was so dilated that the birth would likely happen before the obstetrician could even get there, and in fact, the litle boy popped out before a nurse or orderly could even get her up to the delivery floor.

The baby boy was quite large. Nine pounds, five ounces. This explained her size.

After the birth, the baby left for a quick pediatric examination, and she was wheeled up to the delivery floor. I was allowed to tag along, which required waiving or winking at a few hospital rules and regulations, but the nurses were quite accommodating once they learned that the boy’s father was halfway around the world.

After about 15 minutes in her room, and just before I was afraid she would become hysterical, her baby was finally brought up to her. The nurses said that the little boy could hardly be more healthy.

He was blotchy pink with surprisingly profuse black hair. His tiny little hands had fingernails no bigger than dandruff flakes. Like most infants, he had a voice that was loud and piercing and sounded more like a little buzz saw than human. I watched her bond with her baby and knew that someday…I’d want to be doing the same thing.

Before the nurse left, she encouraged Adrienne to try to nurse him, and so Adrienne exposed her breast. It was large and distended with milk. Her nipple no longer the natural pink of the woman who isn’t feeding a baby. Rather, it was brown and surprisingly large. Quite a bit larger, in fact, than, say, a silver dollar. When Michael (as he was to be named) started sucking, I saw an expression cross her face that looked almost like an orgasm.

By then, it was very, very late in the morning. She needed rest and I needed rest, and so I went home and slept. But I returned the next day and the day after that, spending all of the visiting hours with her. As she bonded with Micheal, so we bonded with each other, and now she’s one of my best friends.

The day of her release, having been given the key to her house, I got her infant carrier and installed it in my car. I drove her back to her car and held Michael while she installed the carrier in her car. I told her I’d stay with her until her husband returned, and she gratefully accepted my offer.

For several days, I cooked and cleaned and ran to the grocery store so that she could recover her strength and spend every available moment with Michael.

At last her husband, Keith, returned. We were introduced, and I returned to my own life. Erik returned as promised, Christmas and New Years passed, and life returned to normal, except that I would visit my newfound friend about once a week.

In mid-March I got a phone message at work to call Adrienne. It turned out that Adrienne had taken a bad fall on some ice while carrying out the trash, and that while nothing was broken, she was quite sore and had a great deal of difficulty moving about. Keith was away on business and could not return for what essentially was not a life-threatening emergency. He would be gone for yet another week, at least.

I told Adrienne that, while I couldn’t take off work, I’d be happy to move in temporatily, cook and clean and run errands in my spare time as I had done three months before when Michael was born.

Adrienne had been working on herself and was pretty much back in shape again, which I noticed was a very nice shape indeed. Curvy and voluptuous like Marilyn Monroe or Betty Page, and yet with no hint of cellulite. Her breasts, since she was still breast feeding, were big. I won’t say “huge,” because they were not, but they were certainly ample.

Adrienne could only hobble about the house, and so I was playing “gofer” quite a bit, but I didn’t mind. We were friends and I knew that were the situation reversed, I could certainly count on her help.

I slept in their king-size bed with her for practical reasons. I would wake up when Michael cried and bring him to her. If she needed a diaper or a wipe, I would get it for her. And by sleeping there rather in the guest room, there was one less bed to make in the morning, which was a blessing for me.

She was exhausted it seemed, and I understood why. Dealing with an infant and living by the infant’s schedule, recovering from an injury that prevented her from standing for more than a few instant, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The house was warmer than normal for the benefit of the baby, about 75 degrees, so Adrienne and I slept without covers dressed only in our panties. If we got a bit chilly, only a sheet was needed to warm us.

That first night, I masturbated while gazing on her goddess-like body, marred only slightly by a belly (miraculously free of stretch marks) that was still just a tiny bit distended, but had been getting smaller day by day.

Her breasts, which I’m sure were always ample, were all the more so swollen with milk. That said, they were, if not perky, surprisingly firm, and as she lay on her back, her boobs didn’t retreat into her armpits the way so many big breasts do. She was and is also naturally pale, which I like. I don’t especially like the look of deeply tanned women, especially blondes.

I had a quiet orgasm and went back to sleep.

The second night, after we climbed into bed, she put her arm under my neck and pulled me close, telling me what a good friend I was.

She kissed me and looked into my eyes saying, “I know what you did last night.” I’m sure I must have blushed. She laughed a bit and kissed me on the forehead. “It’s okay,” she said.

Before I knew it we were giving each other open-mouthed kisses. I rolled on top of her to kiss her better and her finger found first my pussy and then my G-spot. I stopped kissing and just buried my head in the billows of her golden hair as she guided me to a very intense and wet orgasm.

I relaxed on top her her body as I recovered.

Then, I dropped off to the side and started to give her a vigorous hand job. She orgasmed hard and then she was the one who needed to recover. Off to sleep we went.

That done, we chatted a bit more…and fell asleep.

The next day, Adrienne was feeling much better and was able to hobble around the house without too much groaning. We even took a little trip to a Cleveland suburb and shopped for about two hours, which was about all the energy Adrienne had to give. We returned and I made a gourmet dinner of Gorton’s fish sticks, homemade home fries, and baby spinach salad with oil and garlic dressing.

We watched TV all evening, taking turns holding Michael when he wasn’t sleeping. By then, he was quite alert, cooed quite a bit, and occasionally even laughed.

Finally, she drifted off. I put Michael in his crib, returned to the couch, and drifted off myself.

We woke up for the 11 p.m. local news and at 11:30 headed off to bed. I wasn’t really planning on sex because she had seemed so bushed all evening after our outing to the mall.

We took separate showers, brushed our teeth, checked up on Michael, and headed off to bed.

After we settled in she said, “I think my tits are about to explode, and Michael should sleep for a few more hours.” This had typically been the sign for me to get the breast pump, and so I started to get up, but she grasped my shoulder saying, simply, “No…come here.”

She pulled me close, guided my head to one of her breasts, and I knew what to do. I took a nipple into my mouth and gently sucked. My mouth tasted the nectar known as Mother’s Milk, and the unfamiliar but delectable taste sent a shiver through me. At the same time, I could feel her fingers stroking my head, just as she stroked Michael’s when he nursed.

“Oh, come on,” she said, “Michael sucks much harder than that!” And so I sucked harder, and at last my mouth flooded with mother’s milk.

I could feel a rhythm which told me she was rubbing her pussy, and so I rubbed mine as well, and it was a good orgasm when finally it came.

Michael is now walking, and since we both have partners who travel a lot, it’s not uncommon for Adrienne and I to weekend together. We take Michael to the local park or to the mall. We rent movies, pop popcorn, and enjoy each other’s company.

Her tummy is now flat and she is 100% healthy, and when Michael goes to sleep, we watch movies and make love and, of course…