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I was seventeen, in my last year of high school. She was old, thirty, maybe even thirtyfive, and divorced. We were both working the local State Senator’s reelection campaign. At nine o’clock that night, I was in her apartment with her, waiting for Ray Temple, the Senator’s campaign chairman. He was supposed to give me a box of briefings to take back to the office, and take her out to a fundraiser. He was late.
The apartment smelled of her cigarettes and her perfume. She was wearing a black dress that was short and tight at the thighs and loose and open at the neck. Her black hair was piled carefully on her head, her lips very red with lipstick. She was finishing a drink when I arrived. When Ray didn’t show up on time, she started another. She was on her third when the phone rang. Her hand shook a little as she answered it.
“Yeah? Yeah? Oh, shit! Yeah, sure, of course. No, it’s OK. Look, whatever! OK. Yeah, I know. OK, tomorrow!” She hung up the phone and sighed. “Didi fell off her damn bicycle and broke her leg.”
“The Senator’s daughter?”
“Yeah. So now he’s doing the Compassionate Daddy thing. All bets off.”
“What about the briefings?”
She looked at me and her mouth smiled. Her eyes were tired. “The Senator’s going to win the damn election anyway, kid. briefings will wait. I’m out a good dinner, and all dolled up for nothing. You got a cigarette? I’m trying to quit.”
I didn’t say anything. She sat down on the couch next to me and slipped off her shoes. In the short dress and sheer black stockings, her legs looked very good. The apartment was warm; I thought her body must be warm. I could hear her breathing. “Guess I oughta go, then,” I said, sitting there looking at her legs. She finished her drink and put down the glass.
“Got anything to do?” She asked. I pictured her with a cigarette in her hand, lipstick on the white paper, the smoke swirling out of her open mouth.
“Nah. No point going to the office without the stuff. You really think the election’s a sure thing?” The fabric of her dress was bunched up slightly at her waist, and it hung away from her chest. I could see the tops of her breasts, a hint of cleavage, lightly freckled skin moving as she breathed. It was a wraparound dress, buttoned in front, by her hip.
She leaned back on the couch, relaxed and sinuous. Her eyes were very black. “Fuck the election,” she said casually. She put one hand on my thigh. My cock, already hardening in my pants, pulsed. “You a virgin, kid?”
I reached out and touched her neck, pressed my palm into the warm flesh at the top of her chest. I’d squeezed a few firm young breasts, licked the bare pink nipples; one special girlfriend had let me come in her mouth twice before we broke up. But no more than that. I imagined tearing the black dress off of her and burying myself in her body.
She closed her eyes when my hand touched her, and she shivered just slightly under my palm. Then she put her fingers behind my head and drew my face to hers. As we kissed, my other hand cupped one breast through the fabric, and squeezed. After a long moment her soft mouth opened, and her tongue slid along my teeth. Her fingers twined in my hair. My hands and arms felt cold, and I could hear my heart beating.
She opened her eyes and reached down to her hip, unbuttoning the dress and pulling it open. Now my hands held her breasts through lacy black bracups, and I could feel her nipples big and stiff in my palms. I squeezed again and she closed her eyes and sighed. She whispered something under her breath and pulled my head to her again, kissing me fiercely with her mouth wide open. She tasted like bourbon.
Her fingers deftly undid my pants and freed my cock. “God,” she breathed, wrapping one hand around the throbbing flesh and squeezing as I gasped, “God, such a hard young cock.” She squeezed again, and I was afraid I was going to come, and then her lips slid around the head and sucked lightly, but just for a second, and I didn’t come. She stood up.
As I lay panting motionless on the couch, she slipped out of the dress and stood there in black pantyhose and the lacy bra. The skin of her stomach was very pale. She slid her fingers under the waistband and rolled down her panties and pantyhose. She kicked the tangled fabric away and came back to the couch, her ass bare on the cushions. I found myself staring at the triangle of thick black hair at her crotch. She twined her arms around me and kissed me again, long and lazily. My cock swelled and twitched against her hip. I pressed my tongue against hers, and explored her mouth. She moaned softly and her fingers stroked my cock, keeping me achingly erect and on the edge of orgasm. She kissed my neck hard and hungrily, almost biting, and she undid my shirt and licked my nipples. Her mouth was smooth and hot, the lace of her bra was stiff and scratchy against my stomach. I undid the clasp.
Naked, she stretched out backward on the couch, her hands on my shoulders and her thighs spread wide. Her hair was coming undone, wisps falling loose around her face and her neck. I swallowed hard as she drew me down over her and took my cock in her hand. “You want me to talk dirty, kid?” She whispered as she guided me inside her, “You want me to beg you to fuck me? To fuck my cunt with your big hard prick? Oh, SHIT!” And she bucked against me, or I thrust into her, once, twice, three times, and her cunt was open and wet and slippery, and it pulled at me and I fell onto her and groaned and my left leg cramped up and she had all her fingers in my hair, moaning, and I came in four long hot bursts of cum torn out of me one after another in long incredible spasms. My mouth closed on her shoulder; her skin was salty.
I lurched up off of her and sat there shaking. She looked at me with those deep black eyes and got up, walked naked into the bedroom. I heard water running. I followed her, my cock soft and dripping, kicking my pants and underpants away, my hands and mouth still feeling her skin. She came out of the bathroom as I walked into the bedroom. Her body was still naked, hot, fragrant. She looked at me and her mouth twisted. She looked away.
“Some pathetic slut, heh? little virgin campaign workers. Goddamn whore…” One long step and I was next to her. I took her head by the hair and turned her eyes to me.
“No,” I said softly, and I kissed her mouth hard and slipped my tongue into her. She groaned and her thighs opened despite herself, and she ground her pelvis against me. I moved my hands down her back and cupped her buttocks, pulling her against me. Then I lowered her onto the bed.
Her nipples were dark red and erect, the areolas rough and firm. As I squeezed and licked her, she moaned, and her body shuddered under me. “God,” she breathed, “God what are you doing?” I kissed a line down between her breasts and down her stomach; her thighs spread under my hands and my mouth.
I’d never eaten pussy before, and I didn’t know what I was doing, but it didn’t seem to matter. I opened her with my fingers, slid my tongue between her labia, licked at her hot bucking cunt with my eyes closed tight, the smell of her in my nostrils. She gasped and grunted. She was wet and slick, she tasted dark, rich, meaty. She felt as good to my tongue and my fingers as she had to my cock. She came fast and hard as I sucked her clit and moved two fingers in and out of her. I stretched out on her body, squeezed her breasts again, kissed her mouth, and she screamed.
“Fuck, you’re a sweet little bastard,” she moaned into my ear.
“It was the least I could do.” My cock had hardened again as I ate her, and now it was poking at her entrance, sliding between her labia. “Can I come in you again? I’d really like to.” My body wasn’t waiting for permission; the head of my penis slipped into her, engulfed in her heat, and I penetrated her as she whispered in my ear. “Yes, please, yes oh GOD!” She thrust her tongue into my mouth as I began to stroke. I lasted much longer this time, and we came almost together. Then we pulled the sheet up over us and lay there for a long time.
We fucked, or we made love, about a dozen times after that, when she was in town and I could get away. She let me come in her mouth. She lay on top of me and rode up and down as I licked and sucked her tits, and she came over and over and screamed obscenities at me until I shot into her. Then she got a job out of town, and I graduated from high school. Two months later I got an invitation to her wedding.
I felt like I ought to feel betrayed or bitter, but I didn’t. I lay in bed that night, thinking about her married, about Ray Temple’s cock pushing into her, about his mouth on her tits. When I came, some of it got all the way up to my chin.
