The cost of housing was unacceptably high . . . astronomically high for a
new college kid. I had tried one "reasonable" apartment a mile or so from the
charming Eastern Campus with its ivy-covered stone buildings. It was reasonable
only because the slumlord couldn't get anyone to live there (I subsequently
learned). After a week's battle, trying to clean up the place, I'd given up. The
rancid and rotten smells were ingrained deep in the decay of the building. I
gave up and bought a mobile home. They called them "trailers" in those days.
Dolores, my wife and I, both college students, came to enjoy those cramped
quarters, for they were light and clean and more, they were ours. That summer,
she'd invited an "aunt" to visit us as she was passing through on her way to
"spend some time in Spain." As I understood it, this lady - Dorothy was her name
- was the aunt of my wife's sister-in-law. Despite the remote connection, they
were friends and I'd come to feel a real affection for her, so it was no more
than a minor bother to have her stay with us for a week or so. Dorothy was
thirty-something, a few pounds over weight, and filled with a lust for living
life. She had an easy-going acceptance of people and a delightful, sassy way of
putting them at ease. Often she'd toss off some sexy remark and then make eye
contact with me, eyes squinted with her laughter. The second evening we were
sitting in front of a large floor fan that was blowing over a bowl of ice.
There'd been scant relief from the humid scorcher of a day and we were all
lightly dressed. Perhaps copying my wife's relaxed appearance, I was aware that
Dorothy's sleeveless top was damp with perspiration and clinging to her ample,
braless breasts. At one point, my wife had caught my eye and with her's,
gestured toward Dorothy's prominent nipples. I grinned at her in acknowledgment,
for our's was a easy and relaxed relationship and I appreciated her silent
permission for me to ogle her lady friend. Our bedroom was in the very back,
just aft of the bathroom. Forward of that was a "middle room," actually a
wide-spot in the hall-way containing a bunk bed. Dorothy had been curled up on
her made-up bed reading a novel and, on the way to john, I'd stopped a moment to
chat. As our conversation lengthened, I sat on the edge of her bed and soon was
sitting against the opposite wall, comfortable in our relationship. "I've got to
clean up," she announced, "I'm meeting Dolores for tennis." Without waiting for
me to leave, she swung off the bed and rounded the corner into the bathroom,
still talking to me. The "bathroom" was a pretentious name for the large closet
that held a too-small tub, a toilet and a sink. Across the tub was a shower
curtain whose main job, it had evolved, was to serve as an indoor drying rod for
lingerie. I'd become quite used to my wife's dainty things drying there, but
since Dorothy's arrival the day before, I was presented with a new collection of
undergarments . . . brief, lacy things. 36-D the cut-away bra said and the
panties I found there that morning were very brief with French-cut, high sides .
. . long before they'd become fashionable. The walls were thin in that trailer.
I accepted that she could hear me and Dolores making love at night. Dolores was
not quiet in her passion. Too, I was aware of the usual "bathroom sounds" of the
two woman. One has to adopt to the forced intimacy of trailer living or go
bonkers. I wasn't surprised when she continued the conversation, she in the
bathroom and me still on her bed. From my vantage, sitting on her bed, facing
down the hall toward the bathroom, I could see her clothes flying out the door,
landing in a heap on the floor outside the bathroom. Our easy chatting was
interrupted by the shower. I sat there, imagining in my mind, this attractive
woman soaping her breasts in my shower. How I'd like to watch her, I thought..
How I'd like to see if the colour of her pubic hair was as light brown as the
hair on her head. Atop the pile of her clothes, I saw another pair of her
panties, rumpled. Would they carry her scent, I wondered? "Well, will you?" her
voice brought me back with a start. "I'm sorry. Didn't hear you. Will I what?" A
flash of light caught my attention. It was on the wall separating her bunk bed
from the bathroom and I suddenly remembered that a long-empty screw hole was on
that wall. When I'd first noticed it, I saw that it afforded a peep-hole view
into the bathroom. Now, I'm not at all adverse to peeping. I've always accepted
that I had some voyeur in me, but I'd never had an opportunity to use it before
this. I knew it was risky, for she *knew* I was there and we were only a few
feet apart. I suppose that risk added to the thrill. "Will you show me around
the campus tomorrow? she asked. It suddenly dawned on me that I was hearing her
so clearly because she'd not pulled the pocket door closed. She must be drying
herself in the tub. Dare I peek? "Uh, sure . . . be glad to," I answered as I
knee-walked across the bed and pressed my eye to the hole. At first I saw only
the mirror directly across from me and then she stepped into view, a towel
around her head and vigorously rubbing herself with another. "Oh, good. Dolores
is going to be ensconced in the library tomorrow she said. We can get to know
each other," she added. I know how I'd like to get to know you, I thought. She
was standing with her back to me. I could see all of her back side to a point
below the full swell of her hips and prominent buttocks. Reflected in the mirror
was a wonderful view of her large breasts, both from the sides and from the
reflected front.. She paused for a moment and leaned forward, inspecting some
invisible spot on her tit, and then said, " S'cuse me a minnit . . . gotta go."
I heard the door slide closed and in the next moment I'd slid off the bed and
picked up her panties, holding them to my nose. The fragrance of her was strong,
mixed with the unmistakable musky smell of her pussy. Knowing she was naked on
the other side of that door, hearing her peeing and smelling her panties, I
suddenly sported an intense woodie! God, I was horny! Dropping her underpants, I
scurried back to my vantage point. Sitting on the toilet right on the other side
of my peep hole, she was too low for me to look at directly, but the large
mirror over the sink gave me a marvellous view of her front. My puzzler doesn't
work well when I'm horny. Perhaps the blood drain? Anyway, my witty conversation
was reduced to me asking, "You have a boy friend?" "What?" she asked in a loud
voice. "A boy friend? Hardly . . . but I do have a couple a men friends . . .
nothing serious. Why?" "Don'no . . . just curious," I said. The toilet paper
roll rattled and I saw her carefully build a folded wad of tissues, and then
with her right leg cocked, reach down and carefully pat herself extensively. Her
public hair was full and a medium brown, extending out of sight between her
legs. As she dropped the tissues, she leaned back, legs spread and said, "Well,
as you might guess, there are times when I wish I had a man in my life.
Actually," and she gave a rueful laugh, "what I'd really like is someone when
*I* want him . . . if you know what I mean." "Sure I know what you mean . . .
doesn't everyone?" I had to pull my head back each time I answered, for I was
certain she'd feel the vibrations if I spoke with my eye jammed against the peep
hole. Her right hand had returned to her pussy and she was running a finger
lightly up and down through her public hair, pausing near the top of her visible
slit. God! Was I going to get a chance to watch this fox play with herself . . .
and what'd she think I was doing all this time? She didn't speak. I could see
that her eyes were closed and her head was tilted upward. With the tip of her
tongue sticking out, she opened the lips of her pussy with her left hand and was
slipping the middle finger of her right hand into her cunt. She *must* know I
might wonder what she was doing in there. That added to the thrill . . . and my
hard-on . I couldn't help it. I pulled out my hard cock and with eye pushed up
against the peep hole, I began to stroke myself. I asked, "What do you do for
yourself?" (Now that was a leading question at best, and more likely, a dumb
question. What did anyone do?) Echoing my thoughts, she replied with a touch of
exasperation and a little breathless, "What does anyone do?" Jack off, I thought
to myself . . . just like we're both doing right now, separated by this thin
wall . . . and I'm watching you! "What do YOU do?" she asked. I could see her
open her eyes and look toward the door with a smile. What happened next was not
planned. Had I thought about it for more than a second, I'd not have done it,
I'm sure. But excessive planning was never a serious character defect of mine.
Sliding off the bed for the second time, I stepped in front of the pocket door.
Holding my cock and stroking it with my right hand, I opened the door with my
left hand and answered, "This!" Her hand was deep in her pussy and she was
slumped way down, legs extended. Her eyes snapped open as she swung around to
see me. Her thighs closed on her hand for a moment. I could see her eyes drop to
my cock. This was it. This was the moment of truth. Was I in deep shit or not?
She smiled and relaxed her thighs but left her hand jammed in her crotch. "We've
only a few minutes," she said with a questioning look in her eyes. "That's all
it'll take. I'm about ready to explode. Come on, get out of there and bend over
the bed . . . we'll do it that way." She came off the john and stepped into the
bedroom, and bending over the end of the bed, groaned, "Oh, Christ . . . this is
my *favourite* way . . . DO it!" I remember how the cheeks of her ass parted as
she bent way over, resting her head on the bed. I admired her pucker of an ass
hole and for a moment wondered . . .? No, this is *pussy time* I decided.
Kneeling down, I stuffed my face into her crotch and tasted the warm, pulpy
wetness of her cunt. "Come on, come on! Put it in. I want it inside me. Don't
tease me . . . put your cock in my CUNT." She added an edge to the word "cunt"
as she reached back and with both hands, pulled her ass checks apart. Standing,
holding her hips, I did a hands-free, lunging insertion of my rigid dick,
plunging into her pussy all the way in one mindless thrust. "Uuummmphhhh . . .
yes-s-s-s . . . fuck me," she grunted, again giving the "fuck" a slutty, hard
tone. This was no act of love, nor was I trying to thrill her with my technique
or my stamina. I was good for no more than a few minutes of hard thrusting . . .
close and holding her pendulous breasts, I murmured those obscenities of
mindless lust as I approached my orgasm. "Now!" she yelled. "Now, I'm going to
cum . . . now . . . do it, harder . . . harder." "Here we go-o-o-o . . . cuming
. . . in you . . . my cum . . . in your pussy . . . in your cunt . . . oh, shit
. . .take it all!" We both slumped to the bed, gasping and spent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next day, Dolores asked me,
"Did you like it? Did you like screwing Dorothy?" Her grin resolved any concern
I might have had. I smiled and looked upward and asked, "Did you set this up?
Did you and Dorothy set me up. If so, thanks. And yes, I loved it." END
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