A Biblical Bad Ass

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


My hands rested by my sides. The wooden bench had a rough untreated feel to it. I leaned forward to smell the air better: the sweet smell of pineapple weed and stink of common tansy twisted together. The typical summer smell of a Minnesota farm was a nice change from the city. The sun gently crawled across my bare forearms and made the skin tingle. I waited, listening to the gentle swoosh through the leaves of trees. A creek must be nearby to nourish them.

The tap of shoes crushing small pebbles grew louder. The pebbles must have been those rough small stones, not the smooth ones. They weren’t just rubbing against each other. They were breaking chips off of each other. The farm must have been nicely tended to in order to be so manicured. The soft sound suggested a 100 lb person. The gait was small and gentle like a female.

“Hi Derrick, I’m Susie. Your uncle just left you here, huh.” There was a giggle in her voice. She stood farther away than normal. People always treated me cautiously. I rose to reach out my hand with a straight elbow like an arrow.

“Yes, my uncle had to tend to business. And he felt bad leaving me alone. I am grateful for your offer of company.”

“Phew, we don’t have to be so formal.”

The next moment, a set of two big boobs were thrust onto my chest. They were easily the size of a cantaloupe. The flesh was still firm, apparently untouched by age. She was probably in her early twenties like me. They were so big that they must touch each other in the center. They were so big that bumping her chest above them was impossible. It was a full warm embrace for two seconds. She was almost a foot shorter than me. Curly hair brushed my cheek and a smell of fresh apricot shampoo. She giggled again as she stepped back.

“Should I offer you my arm? I saw that on TV (more giggles). A lot of things on TV are pretty silly.”

I felt her fingers lifting my hand. They were soft and warm. We hooked our arms, and she walked me toward the farm house, I assumed. From the sound of plates touching a table and utensils being shaken together, I assumed that an outdoor picnic on a back porch was being set up. She walked a little slowly. I could tell that she was probably a bit chubby.

“I’d have come earlier, but I was in church.”

“Not a problem. It was very nice to experience the country summer with its smells, sounds, and feeling the warm sun. If my uncle has his way, I’ll be soon studying in a college up North, where the summers are short.”

“I’ve started college last year in Los Angeles. It’s a wild city. There are so many people, that all my friends visiting get overwhelmed with anxiety. But I found a good church with a good social program for the whole week.”

“Well, I’ve grown up in the Big Easy. A rural setting for someone like me can be anxiety providing as well. There aren’t the services around everywhere that make life easy. We are probably a mile away from the next neighbor here. Getting a home delivery of pizza is probably out of the question.”

“Yeah, we only have a small convenience store down by the highway.” She giggled again.

She led me to a chair. I could feel the table cloth brush against my thigh as I sat down. Various people greeted me. The table became busy. The voices blended into sounds with occasional words piercing loud above everything else: “lord”, “cow”, and “had it coming.”

I was addressed with a question about my major that quieted the table for a moment. “Mathematics, sir,” I said firmly, being sure to turn my head to face everyone at the table rather than only the source of the voice. I heard a whisper of “Oh, he is a smart boy” and “Polly’s boy has a doctor in mathematics.” The voices swelled again to follow conversation threads being stirred by my comment.

Susie leaned close to me to tell me the dishes were on the table. Her warm, moist breath touched my cheek. Then, it entered my nostrils and smelled a little sour from milk and a little pronounced from perhaps a sausage. Dear reader, while this may seem odd, the way those two things blended was in a very girlish and young way. It was kind of sweet and endearing. I inhaled deeply and held onto her breath. Her fingers were softly resting on my bare forearm. There was a certain fluttering in my stomach that I could never admit to, especially not to her parents.

She offered that the best dish was to make a sandwich of the farm-fresh raw cheese, tender greens, and Greek olive spread among other things. I am usually very self-sufficient and hate the suggestion that I need help in any aspect. However, I fancied the tenderness of having a sandwich made by her hands to get a little essence of her. I sat quietly listening to her movements reaching across the table to collect all the fixings.

My teeth bit into the sandwich. My tongue felt the big holes in the rustic bread. A rich aroma of fresh cheese and tender herbs filled me with joy. I had not realized how hungry I had been. With every bite, bahis firmaları I could sense a little bit of Susie dissolving in my mouth. I felt the love that went into preparing the food for me. I must admit that I was getting enamored by her.

When she offered to excuse us early from the table for a stroll down to the creek, my heart pounded with excitement. When I heard her mother say, “you young people go ahead,” I was thrilled that I would be alone with a young female at a creek.

Rough fields, rock, grass, weed, and dirt were getting crushed by my steps. With my arm twisted around her arm, Susie led me across the ranch land. As soon as we were out of ear shot, she asked me, “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No, I don’t.” “You are pretty handsome.” “Well, with my condition, it’s not so easy to meet girls and be considered seriously. What about you?” “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve tried online dating.” “How did that go?” “Let’s talk about something else.”

We walked quietly. I could hear the wind drifting from far over the open range. Yet, ahead of us was a more energetic whistling of the wind through trees. There was a rolling twitter among the sounds. “Is that a whimbrel?” She paused for a moment. I used the break to become aware of my arm hooked with hers brushing against the side of her body. She was wearing a cotton t-shirt. I could feel her ribs. I wondered what holding her whole naked body in my arms would feel like.

A half stiffened penis formed in my pants. Those are the most awkward. When they are stiff, they stand up flat against the belly easily. It’s merely a little bulge. However, the half-mast has the troubling property that it doesn’t want to stay down and doesn’t want to stay up. So, it kind of pokes ahead, making a real tent. And adjusting it draws more attention. So, I tried to shift my weight on my legs to make it slip to the side. However, as we were standing, I couldn’t grind my hips around to make it slip into a less pokey and more streamlined position.

“Oh my gosh, you are very perceptive. That is a little whimbrel,” she said and continued walking. I used the opportunity to make steps to shuffle the half erection sideways. It was very tantalizing to know that I could not try to make a move. She was obviously very Christian. And if she should run and leave me alone middle of a Wisconsin field, I’d be in big trouble finding my way back.

A soft whip-like branch with lush leaves brushed across my shoulder. We must have entered the refuge of trees that lined every creek here. She pointed out high tree roots for me to step over. I could feel the ground under my feet was compacted, no longer as soft as out on the ranch. A healthy gurgle of a creek welcomed us. The air felt cool and heavy from the water in the air.

When she guided me to sit down on a dry spot at the creek’s edge, she got close to make sure that I did not sit on anything sharp. I let my left hand drop and brushed against her belly. Sure, she was a bit chubby. However, there was also a smallness about her frame that was very girly, very feminine, very sensual.

She told me to undo my shoes and stretch out my toes into the stream ahead. It would feel so delicious. She was right. The coolness was refreshing. The cleanliness from the water was a respite from the dust and sweat sticking to the rest of my body. I reclined back to rest on my arms and smiled into the air enjoying the girl next to me and the wonderful medley of sounds from the trees creaking, an occasional fish snapping for a fly, her soft breath coming in and out, and a squirrel starting and stopping its climb up a tree.

“Do you want to feel my face?”

“Come again?”

“I know that you can’t see me. I heard that blind people feel the face to see people.”

“We actually don’t usually do that, because it is awkward for seeing people to have their face touched.”

“I don’t mind,” she said and gently lifted up my fingers. I felt her soft fingers, slightly moist. It felt very intimate for her to touch me. I let her move my hand freely. Quickly, the tips of my fingers touched her cheek. It was a little sticky in the way that makeup foundation feels. Her cheeks were a little chubby. It hid her cheekbones a little. Yet the skin was very firm from being young.

I gently felt my way up her temples to her forehead. Her eyebrows were dense. Her forehead was clear and smooth. She was quiet. I could sense the trance that people get when they are touched. I guessed that she was enjoying the gentle touch from a boy, having the details of her face investigated like no one else had touched her.

“Your fingers are all independent. It’s like they all have their own mind.” Her voice was soft. It had a hint of bedroom in it, as she must have surrendered to my every touch with her closed eyes, relying only on a sense of touch to feel our communication.

“Yes, you get very good at feeling something if you have to rely on that sense.”

Her ears were beautiful kaçak iddaa wound works of art. The hard cartilage spiraled into itself. She giggled a little. I know that people are tickled by a touch on their ears. However, I was curious to find out how much I could get away with. And she was struggling to keep her giggles down, and let me freely roam her ears, tracing the lanes of cartilage and probing into the hole of her ear canal. The unique thing about an ear is often the earlobe. She didn’t have one at all.

From my ear test, I knew that I could venture a little indiscretion. I let my fingers trail along her jaw bone to find her mouth. Touching the mouth is a no-no. However, she was so surrendered that I dared to touch. My finger tips were electrified by the wet, smooth, and delicate feeling of the corner of her mouth, and I feared the trouble I’d get into if she snapped. However, she simply squeezed her lips together to dry them and to become more comfortable.

I felt such luscious lips. The skin was softer than the softest marshmallow. She relaxed her lips to surrender them to my gentle finger tips. I boldly felt the center of her lips, where they meet. If she’d have parted her mouth or if I had pushed my fingers in, she would have been licking them sensually. I hadn’t kissed a girl in a year. This was the closest that I had come to a kiss in a long time. I took my fingers back to me.

I scratched my jaw to secretly smell my fingers. A hint of raspberry lip stick was on my fingers and the smell of a young girl’s saliva. It was very sensual. I had a full raging hard-on. At least now, it was standing up straight and hiding behind the zipper flat, against my belly. We were sitting. So, my pants were crumpled anyway to provide even more camouflage.

“I did not expect that you’d touch my lips,” she giggled. She sounded happy about it and a little exasperated.

We talked about our favorite bands, accidents, and adventures. I don’t remember the details as much conversation blurs together. The highlight that stuck in my mind was her running across the strip in Las Vegas. She talked about the fence in the center of the lanes that she had to jump. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. However, she couldn’t stop laughing. I thought she was pretty innocent, if jay walking that famous street was such a big deal to her.

Her arms reached for my shoulder to help me up. Arm in arm, we walked back across the ranch land. I could feel that our gait together was easier. The steps were wider and carefree. Neither of us thought much about guiding and following the other. We were in jolly conversation. I held that moment of stumbling with my feet, while pretending to walk easy with my hips, in memory. If we’d have more time together, we might have started a relationship. At least in my head, I was painting out the thought of us going on day trips and kissing. Though my uncle might return from his business any time now.

I was happy that he wasn’t at the farmhouse yet. Susie led me into the house. I could smell the many scents that the house had accumulated. There was wood polish, a stale smell of age, a sour smell from the milk processing, and a subtle scent of flowers in the house. The floor boards creaked, especially when we went up the stairs. The stairs were narrow and tall. I could only put the balls of my feet down. This was always dangerous. If I’d trip, I might pull both of us down the stairs. It made me tight and nervous.

When Susie let me drop down on her bed, I was relieved. It was softly sinking down beneath me. The quilt was a little rough and seemed hand made. The room felt small around me. I was on her bed. It is kind of an irony that I ended up in bed with the girl, yet her faith would be like the Chinese wall between us preventing anything from happening.

“Tell me what is in your room,” I asked.

“Well, there are some old stuffed animals from long before I left for college. There is a yoga mat. My church in Los Angeles is more progressive compared to here. It’s okay for us to do yoga. I really like it. Though, I only do it in my room here to avoid offending other people. There is a poster of Nelson Mandela…”

A clamoring of steps at the door interrupted us. The door handle clicked. “Hola, Susie-beautiful,” a young voice with a thick Spanish accent stormed into the room. She must have been two yards away from me, because the room was so small. Then a sudden silence fell. “Oh, you are with a boy. You are so bad!” said the Latin girl.

“Oh, he is blind. Nothing is going on here. Come on in.”

“He is blind?” I could sense her waving her arm in disbelief. I hated when people do that. The worst part is that I can’t tell if they are waving their hand or not. So I can’t really snap at them to stop it. For me the whole pleasant mood was ruined by an ignorant person.

“How do I greet him?”

“Just shake his hand, like you would any normal person.” Susie’s voice was calm and understanding. It kaçak bahis really calmed me down to hear her explain. I reached my hand out, smiling to hide my diminishing anger. She caught my hand. Her fingers were pretty small. She was a small one. “I’m Anna. What’s your name?” “I’m Derrick, nice to make your acquaintance.” I could hear someone else in the background making a step on the hardwood floor.

“Anna and George are from Mexico. Their parents work on the local farms.”

There was a whole new sense of activity in the room after our calm afternoon. Susie slapped her hands on her thighs. “Anna, lock the door.” Anna jumped energetically off the bed. The bed shook with a wave. We had all been cramped on the bed together. Susie’s knees hit the floor a little loud. I felt things being drawn across the hardwood floor beneath me, beneath the bed. George must have been leaning across the bed, because I felt the mattress sinking, where Susie had been sitting.

“Cola,” called Susie out triumphantly. A plastic bottle was unscrewed. I could hear the fizz of a carbonated beverage. Then the thick, sweet smell of caffeine was in the air. “You won’t tell on us, will you, Derrick,” asked Susie. I assured her that the cola would be our secret.

Anna shuffled glasses around the mattress. Her voice clearly indicated that the cola was special and amazing. She was mostly well pronounced. However every once in a while, her voice had this deeply musical and very Spanish signature. George was pretty quiet. We were clearly in company that was driven by the females, who were close friends.

A small hand suddenly landed on my lap. Anna leaned in, “we are pretty wild. You didn’t expect that.” She was a small one who was pretty outspoken. I held back that I had been drinking in bars with a fake ID. I did not want to embarrass them. I kind of enjoyed the coziness of hanging out on the bed with the worn springs together. I could feel them all moving around and shifting. Because we had to lean back and support ourselves, we must have been in pretty relaxed postures.

I didn’t realize that girls could get drunk off cola. However, I assume that it wasn’t the chemical reaction of ethanol and their brain cells. It was probably more the giddiness that jumped in between them. When we were half way through relishing our glasses, or it felt like we were half way through, Susie jumped up and fell flat down lengthwise on the bed. I could tell that she was lengthwise, because the shake of the mattress was so drawn out. There was a sense of shuffling among Anna and George to fit her straight on the bed.

“I’ll let him feel my behind. He is blind. So, he can only see with his fingers. Now how daring is that?”

Anna sharply inhaled, “oh, you are not going to do that. You are so wicked!” Her voice was so excited that it suggested Anna wanted to see it happen. I started shaking slightly. Feeling her ass was something that I really wanted to do. However, it was so outside of my reality that I feared that it had been a misunderstanding, and I’d get in big trouble.

I heard fingers sliding under a body. I heard the muffled pop of a jeans button. I heard the ratchet sound of a zipper. The sound of a tight jeans being pulled over skin was followed by a softer fabric being pulled a shorter distance.

“Come on Derrick.”

I did not wait for a second. I pounced. I was in the top right corner of the bed on the pillow. Her butt must be in the center of the bed. So, I rotated 45 degrees. I plunged my fingers down, where I thought her butt could be. I am never so hasty. However, I wanted to go for it.

The next moment froze in time. It lasted maybe a second. However, my mind took in every detail as if shot with a freeze frame in a video. What I touched felt moist. The skin felt extremely smooth and soft. It wasn’t a unique shape. It was more like small folds folded over each other. The skin was a little sticky. A little bit ahead of the skin was a fluff of hair. The hair was very fine and fluffy. The fineness was so unique that I called out to my own surprise: “Oh, you are blond!”

Two seconds later, Anna’s small hand yanked mine away, “No, not there.”

Susie let out a holler, “Yoo-yoo-yoo,” as if she had just stepped into a cold creek, yet was enjoying it.

In my luck, I had touched the small spot where her pussy protruded behind. There was a whole big butt, and I had by chance touched her pussy. I apologized, of course.

Anna put my hand down on the fleshy butt cheek. I gently traced my fingers along her butt. A butt is pretty boring to feel, because there are no details to trace. However, I enjoyed feeling her naked butt in my hands. Everyone seemed to observe how a blind person reads a butt. I really don’t have a strategy for that. I knew that the center would be off limits, where it goes down to her asshole. That just didn’t seem public. However, I traced my fingers close enough to the cleft. I could feel the moistness of sweat that sticks between her sweet ass cheeks.

The room was very quiet. Everyone was intent on Anna’s ass. I felt stuck. I wanted more. Yet, I couldn’t just grab her. I stalled tracing my fingers one more time in a circle.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *