Chapter 2
Florence poured a cup of steaming coffee and sat down at the table. She liked it so hot that it burned her tongue. She lifted her big boobs and rested them on the table. The table was cold, sending shivers down her back. She put the coffee cup against one of her nipples; it swelled and grew hard, sending another shiver down her spine, a different kind of shiver. She slid the cup to her other nipple. Yes, it was going to be a good day, a prime day.
She decided it was because of the way the day started, the way Archie stuck his cock in her ass. It was a good way to say good morning. Yesterday, she hadn't cared one way or the other.
She drank three cups of coffee and smoked four cigarettes before she had to get up and go pee. She decided not to clean the kitchen until later. Hell, it was a small apartment, there was only the two of them; she could clean the whole thing in an hour. Most of it was still clean from yesterday, anyway.
She went into the bedroom and took a plastic bag from the back of one of the drawers in her vanity. She rolled a tight roach from the contents of the plastic bag and lit up. Dragging deep, she held the smoke for a long time before exhaling and drawing in again. She went up like a balloon.
She smoked it all the way down and snubbed it out, then turned down the bed and let her robe slide to the floor. She rolled another, stretched out on the" bed on her back, and lit up. The sun had warmed the sheets and she felt like she was floating on a warm lake; she even imagined she could hear the waves slapping gently against a sandy beach.
She thought about the boy who sold her the stuff. He lived in an apartment with his mother and father across the street and he was only seventeen. He had a big cock for a boy of seventeen. It wouldn't have mattered, though, because the last time he fucked her she was so high that his cock felt like it was two feet long. Her first two buys she made at the laundromat, but felt it was too risky and told him to bring it to her apartment; besides, the cost was cutting too deep into her butter and egg money. She came to the door in panties and bra and offered a swap. The next time she met him naked. It was fun to watch the young buck undress and then smoke a sample of the new batch and see how long they could fuck without coming. She wished it was his day to come by.
She finally got up, still floating a little,, and put on a sheer, net brassiere. It hid nothing, but held them up a little and kept them from bouncing quite so much. They still bounced, though. Next she stepped into a pair of pale blue bikinis and pulled them up tight into the crack of her ass. It felt so nice she did the same to her pussy. It looked like no pants at all. She pulled a short sleeved sweater with a scoop neck over her head; it looked two sizes too small. Inspecting herself in front of the mirror, she decided she should wear a skirt, and selected a mini. High heels, a quick brush through her hair, and some makeup and she was ready to go. She stopped, not quite. She rolled several roaches and put them in her purse.
Florence left the apartment and walked one block to a little bar on the comer. She slid onto a stool at the bar. "Two double shots, Harry," she said.
Harry poured out two doubles and put them on the bar with a glass of water. "Been gettin' any, Flo?" he said.
"Whenever I get the chance," she said, and tossed one down.
"Ain't seen you lately. How's old Archie?"
"He's better'n nothin'," she said.
Harry leaned on the bar on his elbows and tried to look down the front of her sweater. His mouth watered.
"Whatcha lookin' at, Harry?" Florence said.
"The best set of boobs in town," he said.
Florence smiled. She was proud of her overabundant bosom.
Harry remembered the one time he had gotten next to her. She and Archie had come down for a few drinks and Archie ended up getting drunk. It was closing time so Harry offered to help get him home. After they got him in bed, Florence offered him a drink. They sat on the couch and had their drink. He was a little drunk himself and put his hand on her knee. When she didn't object, he slid his hand all the way to her cunt. She wasn't wearing any panties and didn't object again. One thing led to another and he fucked her on the couch. That was one red hot fuck. It happened over a year ago and he still wondered if Archie had been completely out. Archie was a pretty big guy, even if he was good natured.
"Been gettin' any on the couch lately?" she said.
"Not lately," he said, surprised. She'd never mentioned it since it happened, or even acted like he was alive.
"Maybe you should try ... sometime," she said, and tossed down the second double. She slid off the barstool, straightened her little skirt, and left the bar.
Florence walked half a block, stopping at a bus stop, and caught the first bus that came by. There was only one person on the bus, a man, and she went down the aisle and sat opposite him. She gave him a quick, coy smile, and turned her gaze out the window. She crossed her legs and dropped a hand into her lap, slowly inching her skirt up with her finger tips. She recrossed her legs several times, staring intently out the window, until her skirt was at the tops of her thighs. She was sure she was giving the man a good show; she could almost feel his eyes on her. She wanted to look at him, but was afraid he would be embarrassed and look away and not have the nerve to look at her again.
Her heart was beating rapidly; it excited her to exhibit herself to a strange man. She wished he could see more. She rode several blocks with her legs completely exposed, and then reached up and pulled the cord. The bus came to a stop at the next comer.
She turned in her seat and slid out, pulling her skirt from under her ass to bunch at her hips. She spread her legs so he could get a good view of her blue panties pulled into her crack. She looked up and their eyes met. She could see the lust in his eyes. He didn't look away, but glanced down and stared at her revealed cunt. She reached down and touched herself, then pulled one finger through her slit. She felt good and wet.
"If you're gettin' off, lady, get off," the bus driver hollered. He couldn't see what she was doing or he wouldn't have been so eager for her to get off.
Florence got off the bus ami stood until it had pulled away, then crossed the street to a little bar. She had been to this bar before, though it had been a while, and she hoped they still had the delicious French dip sandwich. She was hungry.
"Do you still have a French dip?" she asked the waitress.
"Yup. It's our specialty," the waitress said. "Fine, I'll have one, and bring me a bourbon and water."
The place seemed a little more dingy than she remembered it, but she was pretty looped the last time. Her mother had been with her, and they had danced and laughed and drank, and then went to a motel with a couple of guys. It was a wild evening, fucking like mad and then resting and swapping partners for another go. Mamma was married to her second, or was it her third husband? It didn't matter because he wasn't along, anyway. She remembered that Archie had worked late that night and she got in just fifteen minutes ahead of him. She didn't remember if mamma beat her second or third husband home.
Florence had another bourbon with lunch and then another after. She was feeling pretty good and in need of a man, a big man, one that could fill her completely. It would be better, though, if she put if off a while longer. Showing herself to the man on the bus had been very stimulating; a little more along that line would make her itch for a good fuck.
She left the bar and gazed up and down the street, spotting just what she was looking for. She walked down the block to the x-rated theatre, bought a ticket, and went in. The theatre had only been open for thirty minutes, and when her eyes accustomed to the darkness, she saw that only two men were there. She went halfway down and sat in the middle.
The movie was well in progress, a man with a very large cock was fucking a very young girl. She watched for a while before lifting her skirt and feeling of her pussy. She sat with her skirt up, her hand on her cunt for another fifteen minutes, then got up and went to the girls' room. She took one of her precious joints from her purse and lit up. Leaning against the wall, she slowly smoked the joint all the way down. She was floating nicely when she returned to the movie.
Several more men had come in while she was gone. She selected a row where one man sat, and sat three seats over. She could see by glancing from the comer of her eye that the man kept giving her furtive looks. She watched the screen for several minutes, then reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down, rolling them slowly down her thighs and on down her calves. She stepped out of them and quickly put them in her purse. The man stared, his mouth open. She put her hand under her skirt and looked at the screen. Her cunt was wet now, the hair along the lips coiled into little curls. The man was looking at her more than he was the screen.
Florence slid forward in her seat, her knees against the seat in front of her, and lifted her skirt up around her hips. She turned her head quickly and looked at the man. He looked quickly at the screen, then slowly back at her. She smiled, beckoning with her eyes. He sat thinking for a minute, his eyes fastened to her cunt, then slid over one chair, then two, then three.
"Don't touch me; just look," she whispered.
She put her hand between her legs, petting her pussy. She drew a finger deeply through her split, then spread it open. "Nice?" she asked. The man nodded. "Let me see yours," she whispered. He hesitated. "Take out your cock; I want to see it," she whispered, leaning towards him until their shoulders touched.
He straightened in his seat and looked around. There were only half a dozen people in the theatre and they all seemed intent on the screen, so he reached down and unzipped his pants. Before he could take it out, Florence reached over, brushed his hand aside, and slipped her hand into his open fly. She wrapped around his hard cock. "Ooooooh, nice," she sighed, and hauled it out.
Florence started stroking his cock, not too hard and not too gently, but just right. She was an expert at jacking off a man; she always jacked Archie off when he was horny and she didn't feel like fucking. She closed her eyes and pumped at the thing; it felt so good in her fist, so fat and bulging, so alive and hard.
She wished her mamma was here; they had done it together so many times, sitting side by side, each stroking a hard cock. They had even jacked-off a couple of young boys in a Disney movie once. God, that had been a real thrill. They had picked up a couple of guys at a bar afterwards, and since it was the middle of the afternoon, took them to Florence's for a good fuck.
Florence opened her eyes and stared at the bulging thing protruding from her fist. He was getting close. "You can put your hand on my cunt, if you want," she whispered. She wanted to take him back to the toilet and let him fuck her, but it wasn't part of the game.
The man put his hand on her cunt, cupped her snugly, then slid the tip of his finger the length of her slit. She moaned and increased her speed. The man gasped, pulled back for an instant, then slumped against her hand. Florence saw the head fatten and his slime leap out and splatter against the back of the seat in front of Mm. He gasped again and she pulled another thick wad into the air. He leaned back, panting, while she squeezed him dry.
A man several rows ahead of them had been glancing back, sure that something was going on. He knew the man hadn't come in with her because they had come in at the same time. He saw the man lurch and got up.
Florence was milking the last drops from the man when the newcomer sat down on her other side. The man who had just shot his load saw the newcomer leering at him and bolted from his seat. He stuffed his cock away and dashed from the theatre.
"I saw what you did to that man," he said. He put his hand on her knee and slid up to her cunt.
"Finger fuck me," she whispered, "I'm so hot."
His thick finger slid into her cunt; she reached for his fly. She didn't know if she could masturbate him or not; she was so hot all she could think of was climbing on his lap and pushing him up inside her. She got his cock out; it was uncircumcised and she slowly peeled down the thick foreskin, revealing a red, ripe cockhead.
Florence stared at the gorgeous thing, her mouth wet with saliva. She had never sucked a cock in a theatre, although she had seen her mother do it enough times. Mamma preferred sucking them to jerking them off. She remembered the time mamma had sucked off four guys in a bar, one right after the other. She swallowed them all, too.
"Don't stop what you're doing; it feels good, and I'll suck you off," she said. He had two fingers in her cunt and was slowly push-pulling, all the way in and then all the way out.
The rancid, salty taste of a freshly unsheathed glans bit at her taste buds and she thought she was going to come; it was such a startling taste. She sucked until the taste was gone and longed for the bland, hot stuff to fill her mouth. Every man she had ever sucked tasted just a little different and his come was no exception. She particularly liked it when it was thick and smoky tasting.
She wondered if she could bring him off without stroking his shaft and wrapped her lips under the ridge of his glans, her tongue sliding back and forth against the delicate rib running up the backside. She was sure of success when he started grunting and trying to thrust into her mouth. She held him snugly with her lips, her tongue gliding faster and faster. She could feel the thick skin bunched at the back of his head and rolled it with the tip of her tongue. Her tongue slid back up and then down and when she came up again, she felt the hole open and her tongue was suddenly bathed in a wet, slippery goo.
"Aw, fuck, baby, that's good," the man grunted.
She sucked the slimy stuff out in thick, sticky strings, waiting until she had a deep puddle before swallowing. She continued sucking until there was nothing left but a watery slime and the man pushed against her head.
"Yeh, honey, that was great," he said. The tips of his fingers were still in her cunt, and he pulled them out and slumped back.
Florence sat up and looked at the shriveled little thing in his lap. Goddamn, it was a thrill to see it and feel and work it over and then watch it shrivel up. She was delighted she could take such a powerful thing and completely dissipate it, render it useless, for a while, at least. She got up and quickly left the theatre.
She stepped into the sunlight, saw the bus coming, and waved it down. She went to the back of the bus where there was a long seat on each side of the aisle facing each other. She sat heavily, leaning her head back against the window. She felt so good, so hot and in need. She wondered if she had ever wanted a cock as badly as she wanted it now. She wished she could smoke another joint; when she felt like this, it made her hotter still, if it was possible. She rode with her eyes closed, her legs opening and closing slowly.
She half opened her eyes, then quickly clamped them shut again. Two men sat across from her, both staring with wide eyes. Her heart beat even faster and she wondered how much they could see, hoping they could see a lot. She let her legs move slowly apart, and glanced quickly to the front of the bus. There were two old ladies near the front and a young boy about halfway back, all looking forward. She brought her gaze back to the men; one quickly averted his eyes, but the other continued staring. She returned his stare and slowly lifted her skirt above her hips, her legs wide open. Both men stared openly at her cunt.
The bus rolled to a stop. Florence stood up, holding her skirt above her hips, then let it drop and ran off the bus. She watched the men staring out the window at her as the bus rolled away.
Her heart pounded, her pulse throbbed; it was so thrilling to expose herself in public. She looked around and realized she was only a block from home. She saw the bus stop again directly in front of her apartment house and one of the men got off. She started walking.
He was still standing at the bus stop when she arrived. He was a big fellow in working clothes; just what she needed. She walked up to him, stopped, and looked up into his face.
"Apartment 2-B. Just press the buzzer," she said, and walked inside.
Florence grabbed a couple of letters from her mailbox and went up to the apartment. She pushed the door shut with her butt, threw the mail on a table, and dug in her purse for a joint. She had taken three heavy tokes when she heard the buzzer. Her head was floating and her body tingled with anticipation. When he tapped lightly on the door, she had already finished the joint.
"Hi," she said. .
The man just stared at her like he didn't know what to do. He licked at his dry lips and swallowed hard.
"Don't you want to kiss me," Florence said, and stepped close.
The big man circled her with his arms and lifted her off the floor. His lips mashed against hers. She had her arms around his neck and she could feel his prick against her leg. She squirmed against him, the slick wetness spreading-between her thighs.
She clung to his neck, holding herself up, and he let his hands slide down and grip her ass under her skirt. He humped against her thigh.
"You better not be playing games with me," he growled, "because I want to fuck you."
"That's what I want, too," she said.
She moaned when she felt his hands creeping down her ass and between her legs, and hooked her ankles behind his legs.
"Yeh, yeh, feel me there, make me feel good," she moaned, running her tongue over his lips and then pushing it into his mouth.
He felt her up good, opening her cunt and thrusting a big; finger in, sliding it out and up through the crack of her ass and then back between the wet lips and up into her cunt.
"Oh, goddamn, man, that is nice, but let's go and lay down," she moaned.
"Yeh, right here. Let's do it right here," he croaked.
Florence let her legs fall free, then letting go of his neck slid to the floor. "No, it's better on the bed," she said, and stepped back. "Let me see your cock first. Take it out."
He unzipped his pants and hauled out his meat. It was big, long and fat, the foreskin drawn half off the glistening head. It hung in a half arc, jerking up each time it throbbed.
"Oh, you sweet motherfucker, what a gorgeous prick," she cried, "I could eat it up."
"Yeh, lady, suck it for me," he said.
Florence reached down and tugged her sweater from her skirt. She slowly pulled it up over her tits and off over her head. She quickly unsnapped her brassiere and let it fall to the floor. Her huge jugs hung loose, the nipples hard and ripe.
"Jesus," the guy said.
She took a step closer to him and dropped to her knees and lifted her tits to enclose his prick. She massaged his cock with her tits, and with only the fat head sticking out, lowered her head and closed her wet lips over the tip. He moaned with pleasure.
Florence tasted the sharp, salty tip and pushed the foreskin back off the head with her lips. He was ripe, the freshly exposed glans pungent and brackish to the taste. She sucked until he was clean, then pulled back.
"Don't come," she said.
"Christ, if you don't get it back in your mouth I'll come all over you," he gasped.
"No you won't," she said, and grabbed his cock at the base and squeezed tight. Clear ooze bubbled out and she bent again and licked it off. She closed over the head, sucking gently, while she held his shaft in an iron grip. "You better cool off a little," she said, pulling away. She held him until she was sure he wouldn't squirt, and then got to her feet.
Florence pushed her skirt off her hips and let it glide to a puddle at her feet. "Let's go in and get on the bed," she said, and made a dash for the bedroom.
He followed her to the bedroom. She was already on the bed on her back when he arrived.
"Get your clothes off, at least your pants and come on. I'm ready," she cried. "I want to fuck!"
He shucked out of his pants and was on top of her. Her legs were wide open, her cunt split and ready. She groaned when she felt it go in. It was so nice and big and he didn't hesitate, just found the hole and forced himself inside, pushing hard until the whole thing was buried deep in hot, wet cunt.
"Yeh, do it, fuck me, make me come," she gurgled.
She lifted her knees high, felt it slip in a little deeper, and locked her feet over his broad back. This was fucking, what it was all about. Her whole day had been preparation for this, getting her primed for a thick cock. She hoped he wouldn't come too quick, though she would make it even if he did. She liked it to last a while, though, when she was this hot because she could start coming and just come several times one right on top of the other. It felt so good when she could grind one orgasm against another.
"Hold out as long as you can," she gasped.
"Gonna come in a minute now, gonna come hard."
She felt the first spasm in her cunt and felt dazed it was so intense. She hung under him while he punched into her and felt another jolt send shivers up her back. The third one made her cry out in a soft little gasp. It was so good, so fucking good, the best feeling she'd had in a long while. She went limp then, her body a bundle of jangling nerves, and let the big guy fuck her.
She liked big guys; they made her feel so tiny. She was coasting now, soaking up the pleasure of his big cock. It spread open the mouth of her pussy and just seemed to fill her all the way to the end. She rocked gently under him.
He felt his cock swell when the good feeling started tingling in his nuts and held her tight, thrusting hard and fast. Then his balls exploded and thick gobs of jazz belched into her belly. He grunted each time a wad squirted out, and when the last drop was expelled, lay heavy over her body.
"Don't pull out, honey. Just lay still and let him get soft. I like the feeling when he crawls out by himself," she said.
He lay there until his cock fell free, and then rolled off onto his back. "Wow," he gasped, "that's the best wrong bus I ever caught."
"Wrong bus?"
"Yeh. I meant to catch a six, not an eight. I was gonna get off at the next stop and then you started showing off. I was on my way to work, but I couldn't miss a show like you was giving."
Suddenly Florence wanted to be alone. Her body was completely satisfied and she felt good, and wanted to be alone to enjoy it. She wanted to lie back and smoke another joint and dream of all the things that made her feel good.
"If you were on your way to work, you're late," she said.
He looked at his watch. "Christ yes," he said, "it's almost one-thirty; I was due at one." He got up and climbed into his pants. "I'll ride that old bus again sometime. How about tomorrow?"
"I don't take a bus ride every day. Probably won't tomorrow."
"When?"
"I don't know; you'll just have to take your chances."
After he had gone, Florence went to the front room and picked up the mail. She threw one letter to the floor and kissed the other; it was from her mother. She made herself a strong drink, dug the last joint from her purse and lit it, and lay down on the couch to read the letter.
Florence read a while and cried a while, then read some more. She missed her mother terribly. It would have been so much more fun today if mother was along. She finished the joint and the twelve page letter and sat blubbering. She felt good and she felt bad. Her little foray tasted sour now, and she was horny again; she always got horny when she was sad. She stuffed a little pillow between her legs, pressed it tight against her cunt and lay down on her stomach. She fucked the pillow violently, crying like a baby.