He was probably crazy, he thought ruefully. This was not even a real date. It was a spur of the moment scene. Betty would probably simply thank him for the dinner and go home. Still, he had noticed in the kitchen that her violet eyes kept straying time and again to the bulge in his shorts. Those faded old pants had helped him out with a woman more than once. He had had them for years and thought several times he should cut a notch in the leg hole for every girl he laid as a result of displaying himself in them.
"It was wonderful, but I can't eat another bite," Betty said, pushing her plate away.
"You did pretty well. There's not much left but the bone." Ben got up to clear the table, thankful that his erection had subsided enough so that the cherry red head of it no longer protruded past the edge of his leg hole.
"Why don't you sit down on the couch and listen to the music. I'll be with you as soon as I put these things in the sink."
"Can't I help?"
"It'll just take me a minute. Here, take the wine with you." He was pleased to see that she did not resist the suggestion.
Betty settled herself on the sofa, feeling warm and comfortable. The wine made her feel as though she glowed softly, inside and out. She poured another half glass and sipped at it slowly.
Ben came and sat down in the chair facing her. "Why don't you kick off your shoes and relax?" he asked.
"I think I will," she answered, smiling at him. Taking off her low heeled shoes, she dropped them to the floor and put her stockinged feet up onto the coffee table. "That feels good," she said with a sigh. Betty stretched languorously, the hem of her sweater lifting a little to show her taut, smooth abdomen with its deeply indented navel.
Ben stared at her, his eyes wide. He would have thought she was the type of woman who still wore slips. Obviously, he was wrong. The skin of her stomach was creamy white and looked unbelievably warm and soft. His tongue moved inside his mouth, jumping in readiness to lick at and explore that silky smoothness. He could imagine himself delving into her tiny belly button, twisting and swirling his tongue from side to side, picking up the musky flavor of Betty's secret enclosure. His greedy eyes moved up again to her beautifully formed, jutting breasts. They pressed firmly against the inside of her knit sweater, and their nipples were clearly visible to him. Ben was surprised again. Betty did not wear a brassiere either. Perhaps the young English teacher was not as naive as he thought.
How he longed to take her! He wanted to run his wet tongue over every inch of those small, perfect breasts of hers. He wanted to touch his lips to every part of her lean, succulent body. He could guess just by looking at her how fresh and yet womanly she would taste. He longed to bury his face in the pits of her arms, licking up every drop of perspiration. He wanted to move over her body bit by bit, kissing and licking, laving her in open masculine worship. He would not touch the one secret, special place, though, not until he had her crazy with anticipation. When she was begging for him to eat out her hot, juicy pussy, he would dive into it, forcing its tight, pouty lips apart with his thick tongue. He would suck the sweet juice from her until she was absolutely dry.
"How about another drink?" Ben asked, his voice low with passion.
"Can't. My head's reeling already."
"More wine then." He poured her another glass before she could protest. He raised his glass. "Here's to us, and survival," he said.
"I'll drink to that," Betty answered, slurring her words.
Ben slouched down in his chair, spreading his strong, hairy legs wide apart. Betty was struck once more by the shortness of his cutoffs. She caught her breath suddenly. Something was visible through the leg opening. It was the man's bull size scrotum, hair-studded and filled with huge, cummy balls. Betty had never seen anything like it. She knew what testicles looked like, of course, but she had never seen any to match these. The texture of his skin was impossibly smooth, and she caught herself wondering what it would be like to touch it with just the tips of her fingers. Although she tried to put that idea from her mind, it would not go.
Ben shifted his position slightly, and his massive penis flopped into view. Betty could see its huge, fist shaped head glistening at her, the slit in its center moist with the fragrance of preseminal fluid. It was obvious to her that the man was equipped like a stallion. The penis was half hard, but not yet rigid. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid it would fly right out of her chest. What would it be like to hold that amazing organ in her palm? Small movements of her fingers would translate it into heavy, raging erection, and turn Ben into a sexual madman. She found herself longing for that to happen. How would she handle it? How would she deal with his lust?
"Are you enjoying it?" Ben whispered.
"Oh, ah, what?" Betty asked, her cheeks going suddenly red.
"Your wine?"
"Oh, the wine. Sure." She shifted uncomfortably, trying to take her attention away from the display between his legs.
"You were so quiet I was beginning to think you were getting bored."
"No, I'm not bored, not in the least." Her eyes would not budge from his huge, creamy penis.
"It's nice being alone with you, Betty," Ben said, his voice very low. "I've wanted this ever since the first day at school, the first day I saw you." Reaching out, he picked up her shoeless foot. Holding it by the heel, he began to massage the sole of it with his strong, sure thumbs.
Betty let out a soft moan, but she did nothing to pull her foot away from him. His hands were so warm and caressing, his thumbs finding all the most sensitive places. Maybe there was something to the art of foot massage and the way it was supposed to affect the whole body. She knew that right now every touch created a tremor deep in the hot, juicy folds of her tingling pussy. With a small groan, she pushed her foot against his thumbs.
Now his right hand began to move, carefully, almost in slow motion. It crept up along her ankle, and he squeezed his powerful fingers around it, making her fear he would crush it. She giggled quietly. Letting her head loll back against the back of the sofa, she closed her eyes. His hands felt so good on her. All she wanted now was for him to go further. Her whole body trembled with naked delight.
His hands both moved now, sliding, pulling, exploring every inch of her tapered leg, all the way to her knee. Every touch set her on fire, and she could feel that her pouty cunt lips were leaking a steady, oozing stream of fresh, filmy liquor.
"How about if we go into my bedroom now?" Ben whispered.
Betty lifted her arms to him, inviting him to carry her into the other room.
Chapter 5
"God, you're hot," Ben grunted. "You're trembling all over, just like a little kid."
"Oh, yesssss," Betty hissed. "I've never felt like this before. Never!" She lay squirming on his double bed, her entire body at his command.
Suddenly, his lips were against hers, and she crushed her body against him. His strong arms surrounded her, pulling her close, making her back ache with his urgency. Ben's thick, wet tongue parted her timid lips, and they shared an open mouthed kiss, wet, hot, frantically exciting. The kiss went on and on, and Betty felt as though she might lose consciousness, swooning from sheer excitement. Ben's hands were all over her, up and down her back, caressing her sides, reaching all the way down to her sensitive buttocks.