Message-ID: <21051asstr$942405000@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Duneman Subject: {ASSM} Sam 7 X-Post-Date: Wed, 06 Oct 1999 21:56:05 -0500 Lines: 81 X-Original-Message-ID: <37FC0BC5.533F0B46@yahoo.com> Reply-To: duneman69@yahoo.com X-To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us JMDigest-Score: good -2 Date: Fri, 12 Nov 1999 06:10:00 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin Even as Sam's porn career continued to rise and she enjoyed the sex of her homelife, her ex-husband took steps to hurt her. He contacted the Air Force and notified them of his divorce and his ex-wife's military dependents visa, and her realtionship with Gene, now a Major on the fast track to Colonel. The Air Force, investigated, and in their usual zeal to protect an officer's career no matter which enlisted man or dependent they have to screw, had Sam's visa revoked. Two weeks later she found herself on a plane back to the U.S. She spent a few months living in California but she found that topless dancing held little appeal to her after working nude and fucking on stage. When she sought to get into porn in the U.S. she found that with the exceptions of a few stars, enough of the girls were street whores that pay really sucked. Besides, in Europe porn stars were treated with respect, in the U.S.... not so. With her savings dwindling she moved back to Galveston. Tracy and Mike were very pleased to have her back and she lived with them in their new house on the West End for a few weeks until she got a place of her own. She took a day job as a secretary at the University and went back to topless dancing a couple nights a week as a way to get stag party gigs. She was feeling pretty depressed and as she had always done when she felt depressed, she went out and got some strange cock. For about two months she was on a fucking frenzy. She'd head out to clubs every night and fuck two or three guys before heading home at midnight. Some nights she'd go with some of her slut friends and they'd have contests to see who could fuck the most guys by closing time. Sam usually won. Dancing, she was still a top dollar earner and had a stag party booked almost every weekend. She loved the attention men gave her when she bared her tits and she loved the sex at the stag parties. On the beach, guys still flocked to her so she had the pick of the cocks to suck and fuck. Sam was no fool though. She knew she'd eventually lose her sex appeal and she didn't want to spend the rest of her life in a boring clerical job so she went back to college. I was half way through my four year enlistment in the Coast Guard when I met Sam. It was mid August and I was sitting in a freezing classroom waiting for the first session of an Art History class I had to take to make my humanities requirments for a degree. The instructor was some fat slob who kept the thermostat set at 60 degrees and I had dressed for August in Galveston, namely, an t-shirt from a local surf shop, Op walking shorts, and slaps, or what you may know as flip-flops. When Sam entered every guy in the room was immediately thankfull for the frigid air. She came dressed in a skimpy Hawaiian print tie top of the sheerest material that could possibly contain her magnificent tits, running shorts, and the ubiquitous flip flops. Her nipples, already prominent under the thin material of her top reacted to the cold they began to grow to almost twice their already admirable size. I swear they were bigger than my index finger from the tip of the nail to the last knuckle. Every guy in the room locked eyes on those boobs as they bounced and swayed with her walk. Our eyes bugged out when she leaned forward to sit, all of us hoping the top wasn't up to the task of supporting the weight of her suspended knockers. We were all seated at a long table and Sam selected a seat directly across from me. By the time she was seated, I was checking to make sure my cock wasn't protruding from the leg of my shorts. She made eye contact with me and smiled the most incredible smile. My jaw snapped shut as I realized I'd been staring at her agape when she said "Hi." to me. Halfway through the class I realized that not only was she aware that I was staring at her tits but that she was positioning herself so as not to obstruct the view. I have absolutely no idea what anybody, including myself, said during that class. I was totally enraptured by the most beautiful and sexual woman I had ever met. At break I struck up a conversation, she was friendly, but not too much so. She was well accustomed to being hit upon and my meager talents were pitiful. Now I'm not exactly a hunk myself. I'm 5'10" and weigh 165, brown hair sunbleached nearly blonde in the summer and hazel eyes that many women find attractive. I've got a decent build and my cock while considerably thicker than average is only about seven inches long. Since my sex life was pretty much confined to the swinging world and sluts I'd meet at parties who I'd eat after they'd been fucking other guys I really never had a "pick-up line". For the next three classes I asked Sam out every class but she turned me down. Kindly, but still, a refusal. Each class Sam seemed to dress even more sexily as before. Some of the tops were so thin you could see the outline of her aureolas quite plainly. Her nipples tantalized us all. The fourth class Sam suggested that several of us form a study group. She offered to let us meet at her place. I was eager to participate. Twice a week we met at her place, a "Carriage House" aprtment. That is, an apartment over an oversized garage in the alley behind a large home. Sam, like me, spent her days outside so she was perfectly comfortable wearing as little clothing as possible and going without without air conditioning. Although she and I weren't bothered by the heat the others were and one particularly hot evening I was the only one to show up. Sam looked as fantastic as ever wearing a neon yellow string bikini top and matching running shorts. I had to force myself to pay attention to the task at hand, my eyes constantly drawn to her body. We studied for a while, quizzing each other and exchanging research notes when finally Sam got up and said "God I hate wearing these things." as she pulled on the bikini top. "I'm going to go change." She removed her top as she quickly strode down the short hall to her bedroom. I noted that she didn't close the door behind her and I caught a glimpse of her right tit as she turned the corner. No tan lines! As usual, I had worn only shorts and a t-shirt that night and I had taken my shirt off at her invitation before we'd hit the books. My shorts were a pair of Levi's 501 cut-offs that were cut a little short to begin with and then I had to hem them to comply with a command policy against leaving the base in cut-offs. Sam had complimented them one evening so I made a point of wearing them when I came to her place. Once again my mouth hung open when I saw Sam. She had replaced the bikini top with a cut-off t-shirt that made little pretense of covering her tits. The hem rode above the lower quarter of her sundarkened aureolas. Her running shorts were replaced with a pair of shorts cut from a pair of hip hugger jeans and trimmed so agressively that little more than the seam could have been left between her legs. The outseam was split to the belt, the top snap undone and the zipper three quarter of the way closed leaving a gap that showed the edge of a tan line above her pussy. She called to my mind childhood fanatsies about Daisy Mae from the Lil' Abner cartoons. "Would you like something?" she asked in an unexpectedly sultry voice as she brushed past me to the kitchen. She opened the cabinet where the drinking glasses were stored and standing upon tip toes, reached for the top shelf raising the hem of her shirt above her nipples which grew and stiffened as I stared. When I didn't speak she looked at me and smiled. She peeled the top over her head and dropped it. Cupping her breasts with both hands she twisted her nipples. "Do you like my tits?" she asked. I stammered out an affirmative at which she laughed warmly. "I guess you really do!" she exclaimed as she looked down to see my cock forcing its way out of the leg of my shorts. "Suck my nipples." she purred and I rushed to comply. Her nipples were stiff and rubbery as my tongued flicked over them before I sucked them deeply into my mouth. Her fingers began stroking my cock then she cupped her fingers around the head and pulled firmly on it. "Oh look what I've gone and made you do." she cooed as she raised her hands to display a sizeable drop of pre-cum. "I'll have to fix that." With that she deftly unbottuned my shorts to the bottom button and extracted my engorged cock with a proficiency that I knew at once comes only with lots and lots of experience. She dropped to her knees and after a few teasing licks dipped the entire length of my shaft down her throat. In ten seconds I knew this was going to be the best blow job of my life. Sam didn't just suck cock, she was a master of loving cocks. She lavished her skill gained from sucking hundreds of cocks over the years to bring me slowly to the edge of orgasm then stopping me just short of shooting off in her mouth. She brought me to the edge three or four times before I could stand it no longer, me knees buckled and I slumped against the kitchen counter. Grabbing her head a forced her to continue a rythm until at last I began to pump my spunk into her mouth. She sucked my spurting meat deeply into her then popped my cock out as the second wave of jism erupted onto her tits. -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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