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HomeTownGirls
Home Town (MF, cons. adultery)
© 2000
by Abelard
[Warning: If it is illegal for you to read sex stuff, my condolences, but
fuck off. The events depicted in this are performed strictly in the
imagination of a professional. No not try this shit at home. If you read on,
please maintain at least one hand on your controls at all times. If you
wanna’ publish this for profit, ya’ better ask me first. Finally, tell
me what you think at <<Abelard_fra@hotmail.com>>.]
Contrary to Thomas Wolfe’s dictum, our hero discovers that you CAN go home
again, sort of.
Home Town
About a month ago, I went back to the small town where I grew up to tend to
my ailing parents. My had just come out of the hospital, and my
mother needed help for a few days. The duty was pretty light, especially
since they went to bed about nine o’clock and didn’t get up until ten or
eleven the next morning. That left me with the shank of the evening free.
My second night there, I took the opportunity to look up an friend, and
we went to a local singles bar. I slipped off my wedding ring as we entered
the place. The scene was a bit younger than I remembered. Or was it that we
were a bit than I’d like to admit? Okay, Sam and I are both 45, and
the average age in the joint was probably about 25. Big fuckin’ deal.
So anyway, the place was dimly lit enough to hide my “experience lines” and
allow me to mix freely with the younger generation. Sam, of course, being a
local, knew a number of the kids, and he pointed out one luscious looking
girl in particular to me. “That one. You should really like that one. Let
me introduce you to her.”
Hell, I had no objection at all. The was a honey. hair down to
her shapely ass. And legs that went all the way up to it, as we used to
say. Tall. About five foot nine with heels that raised her nearly to six
feet. Almost as tall as I was. And when she turned toward Sammy as he
touched her shoulder, I could see the full swell of her packed into
her tight cotton sweater. Her face was as lovely as the rest of her. Blue
eyes, a “let me suck you” mouth (a la Michelle Pfieffer or Jolie),
and a clear, well tended complexion. There was something about her face that
I found vaguely familiar, but I dismissed it when Sammy said, “Pete, this is
Julie Franeau. Julie, Pete.”
Julie turned a thousand watt smile on me, and said “Pete? Pleased to
meetcha. Pete what?”
“Pete Goodwin.”
“Yeah?” she said with a surprised grin. “Well, hello, Pete Goodwin.” Then
she looked at Sammy and winked. Apparently there was some in-joke between
them.
We bantered for a while, until Julie said, “Oh, there’s my friend, Rachael.
RACHAEL! YOOHOO! RACHAEL, OVER HERE!”
And Rachael came trotting over. Julie introduced Sammy to her, and then
introduced me, “And this is Pete. Pete Goodwin.”
Rachael raised her eyebrows and said, “Pete Goodwin? Isn’t he…er…wasn’t
he…?”
Julie whispered, “Shush, shush, shush.” And giggled a little.
It looked like nobody was going to let me in on the big secret, but hell, I
didn’t care. Julie was continuing to be very friendly, and it looked like
it might be a winning night.
About midnight, after several beers and some serious swing dancing, we all
were jolly and hot. Sam suggested that we go for a ride in his convertible
to cool off. The were all for it, and we stopped at a package store
for another six pack for the road.
We drove around for a while with Julie snuggling more and more cozily into
me in the back seat, sharing my beer. My hands began wandering, and soon I
was cupping a breast, gently brushing back and forth with my thumb on what
was obviously Julie’s hardening nipple. She handed me the beer and started
tugging at my belt with both hands. She got my pants open quickly and pushed
my jockey shorts down over my rising cock.
“So this is what my warned me about,” she said, wonderingly.
Naturally I assumed she meant that her was talking about cocks in
general, but, just to be cute, I asked, “Your warned you about MY
cock?”
“Yep,” she said with a grin.
I still didn’t get it. “Wait. MY cock? How would your know anything
about MY cock?”
Julie, who had been breathing hotly on my prick, and had licked it once or
twice, leered up at me and said, “Does the name Terry Rivers mean anything
to you?”
“Terry Rivers? Yeah, my high school girlfr….OH WOW! Jesus Christ! I
thought you looked familiar somehow!”
“Yep,” she said again as she stroked my dick. “Terry Rivers is my mom!” And
with that she swooped down with he mouth on my cock. Knowing that I was
being off by the of the woman whom I taught to suck me off
in high school, was a real juicer. It didn’t take long before I blew my load
into Julie’s pouty mouth.
She sat up, wiping her lips with her fingers, and said, “How was that?”
“Mmm,” I said, “Almost as good as your mom!”
“ALMOST !? You pig,” she laughed, swatting me on the shoulder.
“Well, your had this little technique, see.”
“Yeah?” Julie was all ears. “What’d she do, hum Dixie while she was doing
you?”
“Close. It was the National Anthem.”
“Got things standing at attention, huh?”
“No, really what she did was…are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Honey, if you don’t tell me in two seconds, I’m gonna go back down there
and bite it off!”
“Okay. Okay. What she used to do was to hold my in her mouth and use it
to slip and slide around my cock for a while, making her mouth and tongue
extra juicy and slippery. She could sometimes make me come a second time
right then and there. Then she’d both together.”
“Huh, she never told me that one.”
“She tells you stuff like this?”
“Oh, yeah. She told me all about you… Well, I guess not ALL, since she
didn’t tell me that little trick, but she told me that your liked oral sex,
both getting and giving, that you liked to screw with the woman’s legs
around your neck, and that you could make her come eight times in a row. I
certainly hope THAT”S true.”
“Sweety, I live to demonstrate how true that is.”
Julie tapped Sam on the shoulder. “Sammy, do you know any place where we
could go?”
Sammy grinned at Julie in the rear view mirror. “Sure, Sugar.”
Five minutes later we were pulling up in front of Sam’s apartment. Rachael
and Sam got out of the convertible and held the front seat forward for us.
“I thought you two might get along,” said Sam.
Rachael added, “God, it’s just so sexy! He fucked your mother! Now he’s
gonna fuck you!”
“So, what is this?” I said. “The whole town knows that Terry Rivers and I
were an item?”
“Small town, Pete. What’r ya gonna do?”
Rachael said, “Wait’ll they hear about THIS!”
Julie giggled, “My will FREAK! She’ll go, ‘You fucked my boyfriend?
Julie…’ Then she’ll get a sneaky look and say, ‘Well, how WAS he?’ And I’ll
be off to the races! I’ll go, ‘Oh, mom, Pete Goodwin was sensational! And he
LOVED a little trick I learned about holding his in my mouth and
him some more.’”
I chuckled, explaining to Sam and Rachael, “That’s what I told Julie that
Terry used to do.”
“Yikes!” said Rachael. “She WILL freak!”
By this time we were all inside Sammy’s bachelor apartment, which was really
nicely decorated and belied all the stereotypes. Italian Modern furniture,
neat bookshelves, big entertainment center with expensive stereo equipment.
The works, all neat and clean. Rachael looked around and said, “Sammy, are
you sure your not gay?”
“Only on Thursdays, babe. Com’ere.” And he wrapped her up in his arms,
kissing her and feeling her tush. They kissed for a minute or two and then
broke the clinch. Sam opened the bar on the side of the room and offered
drinks.
As soon as we were all taken care of, Sam said to Rachael, “You think this
is clean and neat? Lemme show you the bedroom.”
Rachael stood and said, “I can’t wait.”
As they walked off, arm in arm, Sammy said over his shoulder, “Make
yourselves at home. The couch pulls out, Pete.”
So Julie and I were left alone. We stood together and it just seemed
natural, even like times somehow, to begin stripping each other. As we
got down to the essentials, Julie ran her hand along a scar on my side.
“Battle wound?”
“Car accident.”
“OH! The one you and were in?”
My turn to say, “Yep.”
“She’s told me about that. I guess you saved her life, huh?”
“Well, it wasn’t all that dramatic. It happened real fast. I just reacted,
that’s all.”
“But you threw yourself in front of her and got two broken ribs and this
nasty scar from the stick shift on the floor.”
“Yeah, well, it was either that or watch her go sailing through the
windshield.”
“My hero!”
“Gee, that’s what she said!”
“I know. And now I’m gonna thank you properly, for me and for my mom.”
With that we began exploring each other’s mouths again, and groping each
other’s clothing. We stopped briefly to open up the couch, and then fell
together on it, touching and feeling and generally having a good time.
The strangeness of messing around with the of the I messed
around with in high school came back to me. Julie was enough like her
mother that it was a dual experience, like looking above water and under
water at the same time. I was screwing both Terry and Julie. Once or twice
I even flashed on Terry’s face as I looked down at Julie. (There really
wasn’t all that much difference anyway, now that I knew who she was. Julie
had a slightly smaller nose and slightly deeper blue eyes, and her hair was
blonder than Terry’s had been. But other than that, I could have been
fucking Terry once again. Or, at least Terry at twenty two or twenty
three.)
I, naturally, felt like I had to run through my repertoire, or at least the
repertoire that Terry had told Julie I was capable of. So I ate her out to
her heart’s content (or her clit’s content, at least), and then I fucked her
with her heels locked around my neck, and I kept fucking her until she had
several orgasms that way. All the while I was flashing on Terry and
remembering the good times we used to have. And how sneaky we always had to
be. Too bad Sammy didn’t have this apartment back then. could we have
cleaned up!
Finally, Julie came up for air. “So, stud, I can see what my saw in
you, alright. What’d you do, go out for the sexual olympics?”
“Sweetheart, I’m just inspired by the loveliness of your very self.”
“And the idea that you’re screwing the of your high school
friend.”
“That too. So how come YOU wanted to do this? I mean after all, you knew who
I was before I knew who you were.”
“Me? Shit, mister, after all the my has told me about you, I
just had to find out for myself."
“And the idea that you were screwing you mom’s boyfriend.”
“That too,” she said coyly. “It’s such a turn on. The idea of making it
with someone my has made it with.”
“Any time, sugar, any time. You are one terrific little piece of ass.”
“Oh, you say the most romantic things.”
“I meant it in a romantic sort of way.”
“Uh huh. But, listen, I got to get back home. It’s after one a.m. MY
husband will be wondering where I am.”
“Wait, you’re married?”
“Sure, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but…Well, I guess I just assumed that Franeau was your mother’s
married name.”
“Nope. She a guy from New York, George Thaler. But he got run over
by a dog…a Greyhound.”
“A bus? Literally?”
“Literally. A freak accident. When I was fifteen. I don’t think it broke
mom up much though. It certainly didn’t break me up much, even though he
was my father, the guy was a rat bastard. Never home, always ‘looking’ at
me. Sheesh! He gave me the creeps.”
“I’m sorry. Both for your mother’s sake and for yours.”
“Well. Blood under the bus. So anyway, Franeau is MY name.”
“Hmm, Franeau. That wouldn’t be Butch Franeau would it?”
“No, God no! That fat lush! No, I his younger cousin, Bernard.
He’s no prize either, as it turns out, but at least he lets me have
Girls-Night-Out every once in a while.”
“And you take full advantage of it.”
“You bet. You complaining? Look what you got for the evening!”
“Sugar, I appreciate it. Believe me. The experience was nothing short of
sensational. I don’t think I’ll top it for a long time.”
“So I guess you don’t want to come by Mom’s house tomorrow, huh?”
“Oh, lord! What are you suggesting, child?”
“Well, I don’t know. It might be kind of fun. See you and together
again. Especially after tonight. Who knows what might develop?”
The very thought of it stirred my sleeping prick. “Sugar, I would LOVE to
drop by to see you and your mother, any time.”
“I’ll ask the Widow Thaler when she would like a surprise guest for the
evening. Meanwhile, drive me home, will you?”
I rummaged around until I found Sammy’s keys, and strolled out the door with
my hand on Julie’s high round butt. Thoughts of the possibilities of
evenings to come danced in my head.
The End of Chapter One.
All of Abelard’s works may be accessed at
<http://www.asstr.org/authors.html> in the
authors’ (Profiles) index under “F” for Fra. Peter Abelard.
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