Clear Shots

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The supermarket lot was crowded. Amy, my hosts’ eldest daughter, sat beside me: the rest of her family had stayed home, all deeply involved in a basketball double-header in which neither of us was interested. Our mildly sarcastic commentary wasn’t much appreciated, and we’d been partly volunteered, partly ordered, to “…go away! Maybe you should go get more chips and beer”.

“Park over there” she said, pointing to the unoccupied far edge of the lot. “It’s silly to drive around looking for a spot fifty feet closer to the door!”

As I extracted the key from the ignition, Amy leaned sideways, caught my hand, held it, looked up at me. A well-developed girl, quite pretty and intelligent, very flirtatious, she’d been responsible for my serial hardons over the past couple of days. She sported a purely mischievous grin, and was so close and so incredibly sexy that it was all I could do to keep from kissing her on the spot – she was old enough and certainly didn’t look like she’d mind in the least. But I did keep my composure and control. For a bit.

“What?” I asked, all innocence… faked, of course, since I had been doing my utter damnedest –quite successfully- to see up her flowing, short summertime skirt as we moved about the TV room. Not to mention the whole of the previous afternoon when we’d all lounged in the patio for hours, she in very loose-legged shorts, oversize and man-cut. I had seen -for sure!- that she was sans panties on both occasions. And that she had very little pubic hair, if any at all. Plus she wore equally loose-fitting boat-necked blouses of very thin fabric. Without a bra. Talk about buttons being pushed on my sexual keyboard!

She brought her face closer to mine. Danger signals flashed: her nickname for me was Mr FiftyPlus. My intellectual reservations, and my concerns about the host/guest relationship, and about ethics etc. didn’t in the least affect the rapidly expanding bulge in my shorts.

“I was just wondering if you enjoyed your clear shots this afternoon. That’s all.”

Pure butter-won’t melt innocence. My ass. She grinned wickedly at me, an expression far beyond her chronological age, and it made my spine tingle.

“Huh?” I intelligently replied, not understanding.

She made a “God how dumb can this man be?” moue, shrugged, and explained. “Duh… ‘clear shots’ are when a woman – that’s me, by the way – decides she likes a man – that’s YOU, in case you’re wondering – enough to give him long unobstructed looks up her skirt. Not just little teasing glimpses. Real looks!” She studied my face, apparently liking my reaction. “Sometimes, if a girl is really, REALLY serious, and not just being a nasty little flirt, she’ll even take off her panties first. Clear shots. Some girls call them pussy-shots, but that’s crude. How did you like yours… so far, anyhow?”

I was taken fully aback – what I had been quite certain were accidents had been anything but. All that, aimed at me!? Amazing – an ego-builder, but also almost scary. The entire episode, her display and even its details – lack of underwear uppermost amongst them – were premeditated. For erotic effect, intent beats accident hands down. My two days of repeated hardons, whose concealment had taxed my ingenuity, had been intentionally caused – by this lady, a daughter of my very best friends! I must have turned red because she giggled, moved her face closer to mine.

“I thought those shots might get your attention. I am SO glad you liked them! There are plenty more available – any time, anywhere, for free, too!” Her face moved fractionally closer yet. “But meanwhile, I looked around as we pulled in and there’s nobody near, so IF you want to get out of this car and go into the store, you are going to have to kiss me first. I mean REALLY kiss me, too.”

She reached across my lap and locked my door, brought her face back to mine, so close I could feel her body heat. She settled within easy kissing range, lips slightly parted, her warm breath sighing against my upper lip. She shifted again so that her hard boob pressed solidly into my bicep – zero chance it was accidental. I thought to myself, again: “Impressive! But good grief already!”

Her one hand went around the back of my neck, the other dipped into my lap and gently clutched my hardon. Way beyond accidental now! She smiled, whispered “It feels as if you like me! How nice! Kissing now? Please? Making me wait like this is NOT polite – a girl really shouldn’t have to beg. Unless the man doesn’t LIKE her or something.”

I looked about quickly – she was right about being alone, although in plain view should anyone choose to notice. That seemed unlikely. I muttered “This is a very dangerous game, Amy. You sure you know what you’re doing? I’m not a little kid, so my reactions may be something you don’t expect… or know how to handle.”

She shrugged, let her lips brush mine, then softly, slowly, fondled the inner surface of my lower lip with the bahis firmaları tip of her tongue. My hardon was at about 115% of max. “I know. I know all of that. But – I like this sort of danger, don’t you? Nobody gets hurt, we both have fun. Together. And part of the danger is us being a considerable distance apart, age-wise. Sooooo- we just flip off the rest of the world. I like all that. And I really do like YOU. It wouldn’t be NEARLY so nice with anyone else.”

What could I do? The luscious, glorious kiss lasted at least a full minute, and was full of aggressive eroticism on her part – perfectly echoed, nay, positively reinforced and augmented, by my own. In the middle of it her hand guided mine authoritatively up beneath her blouse to cup her breast – small, hard, genuinely conical, with a tiny but wonderfully erect nipple atop a barely discernable puffy, inflated areola. My touches made her squirm and added to the kiss’s effect on us both.

It was clear she was prepared to let the kiss go on forever – not a bad idea, really, but I got nervous and initiated a break. We both looked about, but nothing had changed – we were still alone in plain sight.

“WOW! You really do know how to kiss. My whole PUSSY is slippery now – and it’s all your fault. We’re going to have to do something about that when we get back home.”

THAT comment certainly got my attention! She thought for a few seconds, then grinned at me.

“Gotta go buy the goodies, I guess… BUT – I have a little plan. Shall I tell you?”

I nodded.

“I’ll bet that when we get back home nobody has moved an inch. But – even though they’re all fixated on those silly games, we can’t just disappear – someone would eventually notice. So – I’ll just stand behind the left end of the couch and lean on the back and pretend to watch the games, while you sit on the floor beside the armrest – that way you can do whatever you want under my dress and nobody will be able to see. I’ll be quiet as a mouse. I promise! We wouldn’t want to get us both in trouble! Sound okay?”

I was flabbergasted – she had the entire encounter totally planned! And well planned. My libido was now fully in command, so of course I agreed.

As we got out of the car, she studied my crotch, stifled another giggle, then said “Better pull out your shirt-tail, Mister FiftyPlus. It would help cover a multitude of sins… or at least one rather obvious one! What would a cop think of us walking along together with you looking like that!? We might have to prove we’re behaving legally. And me without my ID just now!”

We returned home in reasonably short order. She was correct about people not having moved, and we deposited ourselves as she’d planned. Ten seconds after my butt hit the floor, I had my right hand all the way up between her legs. She was every bit as slippery as claimed, and she made it easy for me to investigate by standing with her feet a yard apart. No panties in the way: in moments my fingers found their way inside, unobstructed. My thumb settled beside her clit while my middle finger located her G-spot. Snug, almost hot, vibrating with my touches, she was amazingly ready, and equally amazingly sensitive.

Thirty seconds sufficed to make her start shivering slightly, and less than three minutes brought on her first orgasm. She had exquisite external control: for all the clenching and pulsing that went on around my fingers, the only outward manifestation was an accompanying twenty-second rictus and fixed stare. Noticed by nobody else.

After several orgasms she looked down at me, took a very long but silent breath, gently removed my hand, announced loudly that she was going to get more snacks, and headed upstairs. She returned quickly, set three bowls of new goodies before the game-bound audience. It was a perfect added distraction – better privacy-in-a-crowd for us. She resumed her place. The others were all totally obliviato.

As my hand slid up her legs again and my fingers sought and found their previous nest, she passed me a post-it, motioned for me to read it. “Your room, midnight. Eat this note NOW, and ME later!”

Good gods!

I looked up at her: she stared deep into me and nodded, mouthed “I mean it”, and nodded vigorously. I munched, then swallowed the paper as she watched. I don’t know how many orgasms she had in the next half-hour or so, standing there within ten feet of her family – but it was way more than one. Before we finished – and it was neither of us but rather the end of game

that called a halt – I had two fingers all the way up her pussy and my thumb fully buried in her bottom – with nary a protest. I wondered where she’d gotten the experience to support such aplomb?

She didn’t wait for midnight. Just after 11:30 she stepped quietly into my room, turned and shut the door. The lock’s quiet ‘click’ was a most definitive statement. A slow, beautifully fluid show-off turn, and her nightgown was over her head kaçak iddaa and onto the floor.

“Wow, you’re really ready!” she said, eyes fixed on my hardon as she took the three steps to the bed where I reclined, nude and a great deal MORE than merely ‘ready’. I did nothing – didn’t need to. She knelt on the bed, leaned to kiss me, then straddled my hips. As we kissed, she plastered her bosom against my chest and simultaneously reached for my cock.

There was an edge of awkwardness to her attempts to position it properly, a faint aura of inexperience that was simultaneously extremely sexy and at odds with her aggressiveness to date. I took her hand in mine, did the final guidance as we settled the tip in the right place, adjusted her hips for angle. And then she bit gently on her lip, stared into me wide-eyed, and sat down. She took me full-length with that very first stroke, her sudden exhalation making that special, deeply sexy little ‘being entered NOW!’ whooshing exhalation as our pubes collided.

A few rocking strokes, again slightly awkward. I broke the kiss, took her head in my hands and said “This is a lovely way to start… but let’s slow down and do something just for you for a while. We’ll come back to this, I promise. Okay?”

She nodded – no objection lodged with THIS judge!

I gave her twenty minutes of the finest head I could provide. Then, as promised, we returned to her astraddle. Eventually, when I couldn’t stand holding back any more and was going to have to let myself go, we discussed briefly the whole business of contraception – she being NOT on the pill and me being a shitty excuse for a Boy-Scout (NOT Mr ‘Always Ready’ this time)!

We agreed on the absolute need for some sort of ad-hoc contraception, I brought up the idea of exploring her bottom. She loved the concept – and, it turned out, loved the practice even more. I came with extreme intensity, far up in her butt. Mirabel dictu, my sweet midnight miss managed something that even the most mature, experienced buttfuckers seldom accomplish – a stupendous orgasm with us stroking full depth, hard and fast.

After the first complex, multi-faceted go-around we lay there cuddling, kissing, fondling. Eventually I asked the obvious: “You’re really very good at this. Where did you learn so much?”

She shrugged, kissed me again, snuggled up tightly against me as she replied “Books. Videos. Girlfriends. Mostly on the internet. You could tell I was a virgin, couldn’t you? I really didn’t know anything at all, not first-hand.”

Hesitations and slight fumblings explained! She kissed me ferociously, then said softly “I’m sorry I was in such a hurry at first, but actually I was scared and moving fast so that I couldn’t back out. Was it okay anyway?”

I spent the next hour explaining, in great physical detail and with multiple variations, just exactly how “OKAY” it was. She got the message.

Amy left my room in the very early morning, about 0530, “Just to be safe…” I quickly dozed off. In preemptive self-defense we’d allowed ourselves not a wink of sleep – the idea of M&D finding us asleep in bed together simply curdled my brain! Then at 0700 I was awakened delightfully by a profoundly sensuous good-morning kiss. Accompanied by a warm hand under the covers, fondling my crotch.

After that reveille, Amy hugged me and whispered “I wish we could fuck again right now. It’d be SO nice! But M and D will be getting up soon. Come on up to the kitchen… I’ll go make coffee.” Then, after a second, shorter kiss, “You said yesterday that you’d like to go to the bookstore and to REI sometime while you’re here. If I came along, we could be alone together for a while – hours in fact. I’d like that – if you would.”

My response was quick and unequivocal: “Excellent idea. I’d love it.” She grinned, stood to leave: “OK, but let me suggest it to M and D – I know just how to handle it.”

From the table, “M and D” could be heard moving about in their upstairs bedroom, but hadn’t started down yet.

Amy poured my coffee, and leaned down to whisper in my ear: “Your sperm is dribbling out of my butt, you know! Especially whenever I make a little bitty fart. I LIKE the feeling – something of you is still inside me. That’s very romantic and sexy, don’t you think?”

HOO-bloody-RAY for enthusiastic young partners!

I got to the kitchen before the parents, who finally arrived bleary-eyed, made appreciative sounds about coffee being ready. Amy looked at me and winked – again, she knew precisely what she was doing! As M and D sat down she said, very casually, over her shoulder, from the stove, “Mom? Dad? Guy told me yesterday that he’d like to go to the bookstore and REI today. He’s invited me to go with him, if that’s okay. He said he’d like the company. And you two are busy until dinnertime. I could play hostess! Besides, I like both stores!”

Before they could respond, I picked up the thread, improvisational theater at its finest: kaçak bahis “Right. It’d be fun, and since I missed Amy’s birthday we could pick out a present for her – something she’d really like to have. Might even be something useful, who can say?!” Then, trying to ensure a bit of wiggle-room, “I do want to spend a few hours in the stores, but we’ll be back by late afternoon, and we could pick up steaks to grill tonight.”

Amy grinned broadly at me from behind their backs, winked again, gave a little thumbs up.

M and D didn’t blink. Mom replied, “That’d be nice. But Guy, don’t spend too much on her! She can be very headstrong and persuasive.”

I nodded sagely – they had NO IDEA!

Dad just said “Amy knows the way to both stores. You two should get going right after breakfast and avoid the crowds. Now – who’s going to cook what this morning? I’ll bet everyone’s hungry after watching all that exercise on TV yesterday!”

He was right about Amy’s and my being hungry, ignorant and dead wrong as to both our hunger’s actual object and its cause. And utterly clueless as to what was needed (and planned) to satisfy it.

As I backed us out of the drive, Amy sat demurely in her seat… almost primly proper, should the world be looking. Which it wasn’t – if anything, the world gave us a sly wink and shrugged. I asked “Okay, woman…” She grinned at me, then stuck her tongue out.

“Which store first? Which way do we go?” I asked.

“Go north.”

I oriented myself, put the car in motion.

Her hand slid across the console into my lap. Instant hardon. After a slow block, she squeezed my cock and said “You know perfectly well we’re not going to those stores, don’t you?”

My genuine surprise showed, made her smile. “… at least, not for quite some time. Can’t you think of something BETTER for us to do?”

At the next stop-sign there was no other traffic, so I made a full stop, then turned and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Something was afoot, and I was Mister Clueless.

She came clean: “Surprise! I called my best friend, Helen, early this morning. We’ve been best friends all our lives. Her folks are gone for several days and she’s all alone in the house. She also has a summer job, and she won’t be home all day. A completely empty house! What a shameful waste, don’t you agree? Maybe we could do something about that!?”

She studied my expression, which was obviously priceless, giggled, and said “Gotcha! Anyhow, she’s leaving the key to the house under the mat, and we can use her bedroom all day. Is that okay with you? We can just get naked and not worry about interruptions, and we can fuck ourselves absolutely silly if we want. And I DO WANT. I suppose we’ll have to leave in time to go to the stores and get steaks, but that doesn’t have to take very long at all.” Then she kissed me and asked “How’s that for a plan? Turn left at the next light… we’re only about ten minutes from her house, and I can hardly wait!”

I looked at her, admiring, my libido in overdrive. She could tell what I thought of her plan, instantly. “Incredible! You are SUPER!” I said… and she practically preened. “But – there’s this little problem of lack of contraception. I could have planned better if you’d warned me.”

She shrugged, wrapped an arm around my neck and nuzzled, saying “Oh, phooey. I did think about asking you to go buy something when we got in the car this morning, but it was more fun to surprise you! Besides, you can always put your sperm into my butt. Like you said last night, sperm in there just don’t count for reproductive purposes! And I certainly liked getting them that way! Or maybe we could use my mouth? I haven’t tried that yet and I’d love to. Anyhow, Doctor G, you really should quit worrying and just DRIVE! Turn right next corner!”

Amy of course knew the way to Helen’s bedroom, and by the time we’d been there for thirty seconds, we were nude. We began with a reprise of the previous evening’s mouth-vs-clit games… she was so hot it was incredibly easy to bring her off. Repeatedly. Until she called for a respite, then pushed me down and sat on me through several more smallish orgasms.

I finally allowed myself one incredibly over-wrought, flaming, explosive orgasm deep in her bottom, with her tits cupped in my palms and her fingers going like sixty on her button. Shortly after that we collapsed, me atop her but still buried. We lay there luxuriating while gasping for breath.

And then we heard a door squeak.

Instant panic, heart-stopping.

We turned towards the sound. It was the closet door, opening ever so slowly, squeaking nonstop like a dramatic drum-roll. It swung wide to reveal a naked young woman. Bigger and heavier than Amy, a near-stunning mix of Latina and some variety of Asian. Her beautiful, full breasts hung proudly, obviously ready to fail the pencil test. Large, dark, rugged nipples and areolas; a dense pubic bush trimmed into a little heart shape and rendering her lips exposed and naked.

I stared briefly at the apparition, then looked at Amy, initially thinking “SETUP” (although I certainly saw nothing inherently BAD about the concept!).

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