Chapter 3

"James," she said, running the word along her tongue like a new taste treat. "You're the first guy who didn't want to be called Jim. I mean, everybody I ever met before whose name was James always wanted to be called Jim."

"Well, that was them, not me. You see," he explained, "there were some kings of England several hundred years ago who went by the name of James. They were good rulers, all of them; today, you might even call them executives-"he stressed that last word-"and, as an executive myself, I identify with them. Thus, it's James for me-not Jim."

Cindy Smith and James Smithers.

Having their first evening together.

Cindy had only agreed on a "trial" basis; that is, one night to start, and if she simply didn't dig it, that would be that. When Tom had transmitted this requirement to June, she'd laughed, and said, "Don't worry, if I know James, he'll change her mind. He can be quite persuasive, and I've got him plenty interested in seeing what Cindy can do to give him variety."

Tom thought: yeah, if he's half as persuasive as you, baby, he just might be able to swing it.

James was swinging it, all right.

Swinging his cock, but safely inside his athletic supporter. He didn't want to scare Cindy off.

But, he could feel his prick growing, widening like a shovel ready to dig into some dirt. They were in Tom's apartment-Tom having taken off earlier, for a rendezvous with June; but, not in the Smithers home, for that would be pushing it a bit too much-but James had parked his car several blocks away and disguised himself, covering his face, so that nobody would ever recognize him. He took no chances.

In fact, he was feeling, in some ways, almost as guilty as Cindy was feeling. It was sort of a new experience for him, too. He hadn't been one for playing around before. Oh, sure, he talked a lot about it, and liked looking at all the young cunt around his office; but, as for doing anything about it, no thanks. Until now.

He watched Cindy sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed, her miniskirt so short he could almost see right up her thighs and into her crotch. He liked the way her hair hung so loosely over her shoulders and down her back, the way it swung so freely every time she turned her head. He had to admit, she was one sexy young cunt.

As for Cindy's feelings, she was feeling a bit strangely about having this strange man in her apartment, and not having Tom around, either. Yet, in some ways, she thought, he did look rather distinguished, and he was certainly interesting to talk to, he'd been around and knew a lot about the world. It was-well, sort of fatherly-so far-

"Well-James-would you like another drink?"

"Why-sure, Cindy, thanks, I could use one."

He was drinking Scotch and water. She was drinking Scotch on the rocks. She figured that the more booze she poured into her, the better she would be able to go through with this thing. And, anyway, he was polite; he hadn't even touched her or made any sexy remark, or been out of order in the slightest. She guessed that must be due to his maturity.

She poured him another drink, and practically filled her own glass with booze. He noticed that, and said, "Say, I hope you can handle all of that. I don't want you getting drunk on my account."

She laughed, and said, "Don't worry, I'm like a sieve, it just goes right through me and doesn't bother me a bit."

She thought it was nice of him to be so concerned. It gave her a surprisingly warm feeling in her cunt; she could even feel her nipples erecting. But, then, she was thinking of Tom so much while she was talking to James, that it really wasn't so surprising.

Yet-he was nice, much nicer than she'd thought, in his own older way.

And, she was starting to feel the Scotch. She was getting drowsy, almost sleepy; and, since he hadn't even broached the idea of going to bed at all. she sort of figured she should do it for him, go about it easy but efficiently-and get the thing over with.

"How do you feel about fucking, James?"

He stopped his glass in mid-air to stare at her. Her eyes were warm and inviting, but not mocking or malicious; her voice seemed genuinely concerned, not playing smartass with him.

Still, it was startling, to hear such words from so young a girl. But then, he was forgetting how fast young girls grew up these days.

He coughed a few times, and managed to get a couple strong sips of Scotch down his throat before he replied, "Well-I guess I feel pretty good about it, at my age. At least, put it this way-" He winked at her, as if they were sharing some kind of secret. "-I can still get it up and out-and in, which is where it really counts, isn't it?"

She laughed. He was a funny guy, some of the time. Maybe it wasn't going to be as bad as she thought.

"How do you feel about fucking someone about half your age?"

He blanched, and had to really gulp down a couple of fast ones. She reddened in embarrassment; she shouldn't have put it quite that bluntly .She hastily added, "I mean, would it seem unnatural to you, would it give you any hang-ups to be doing ill"

He was beginning to realize what she was talking about now. She hadn't meant to embarrass him, she just genuinely wondered if it would cause him any consternation, not whether he could manage to make it with her or not.

He coughed again. Then, realizing that he needed a cigar, he pulled one out and lit it up. Her eyes followed his motions as if the cigar he was holding was his cock; he spotted her eye movements, and interpreted them correctly. That gave him an idea for future reference-and maybe future fun as well.

He took a deep drag on his cigar, took another sip of Scotch, and said, "It's not how old you are, it's really how young you are, Cindy."

She waited, assuming he was going to amplify his statement further. He liked that; that showed politeness and courtesy on her part. Beneath its athletic supporter, his cock was starting to cry for her cunt.

"I mean, you've got to think young today, no matter how old you are. You've got to keep yourself in good shape, take good care of your body and it will take good care of you. If you know what I mean."

She nodded, sipping her drink. She was thinking that he seemed to be a fairly decent guy, he was certainly trying to make everything nice and simple for her. She felt a sort of affection for him already. And, as Tom had told her-she could always think of Tom while she was fucking James.

"You like music, James?"

"Why, sure I do. Mostly the classics, though." He hesitated, then added, "But I've listened to a lot of popular music, too, so I know the kind of things your generation gets a kick out of."

He named several rock groups and pop singers, and gave her a brief assessment of their talents. She nodded, mostly in agreement; on that score, she thought, he was fairly hip.

"I'll put on a couple of records, and we'll listen to some of those bands," she said, as she got up from the sofa and walked to the stereo.

She did so.

She played the music at about half of the volume she usually used. Better to ease the old guy into the thing gradually, she thought.

As the sounds blasted out of the speakers, he began to tap his feet. A lot of good rhythms there, he thought; he'd danced to the big bands in his youth, but he could still manage to make it with rock music, too, if the beat was right.

And, to him, that beat was all right.

"Hey, Cindy, I've got an idea."

"Lay it on me, man-I mean, James-"

"Well-would you like to dance with me?"

She shrugged, then said, "Sure, why not? What can I lose, except my virginity?"

He chuckled, and downed the remainder of his drink. She did the same. He kicked off his shoes, and stood, swaying slightly, in the middle of the living room. She came up to him, stopping a few inches away, waiting for him to show her exactly how he was going to dance.

That is, was he going to do it the old-fashioned way, by holding her close? Or was he ready for the modern discotheque dancing style, bodies wildly swinging but several feet apart?

He hesitated.

She made up his mind for him.

"Hey, let me show you how to do the funky monkey that's the latest thing. You just watch my feet, and follow my steps, okay?"

He did.

She began to move her feet, mostly from side to side, sometimes from front to back. The steps weren't too complicated, but he hail to memorize a certain rhythmic pattern. He watched her move, and couldn't help but watch some other things, too. Such as her lovely curved buttocks, shaking vigorously as she-moved, and her bounteous breasts, jiggling like two cantaloupes in a grocery sack.

Her hair was also flying wildly, and this alone was enough to turn him on. He could feel his prick expanding in reaction; it strained against his jock strap as if it was going to break right through.

At the same time, he was moving his own body, trying to follow her steps. It felt like fun, shaking his own ass as she was doing. She couldn't help smiling as she watched him trying to get into the dance. At least, he was a good sport about it so far.

She started to circle him as she danced, almost as if she was an Indian stalking him. He began to move in his own circular pattern, too, trying to circle her right back. He almost tripped over a couple of items of furniture as he did so, but caught himself in time.

He was beginning to enjoy this little routine.

He was starting to sweat a bit, but he wasn't uncomfortable. He did, however, loosen his tie, and finally unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it on the sofa.

She was starting to feel a bit more sexy herself as she danced. It wasn't so much him as it was the mere motions of dancing she was going through. She could feel her nipples getting tauter, and her cunt felt nice and loose and was getting a bit wet.

She also liked to feel her breasts and buttocks moving as she danced. It was almost as if they were entirely separate parts of her.

She was getting a bit warm, too, so she started stripping as she was dancing. James stopped to stare; then, realizing that looked impolite, he kept on dancing but also kept his eyes on her torso as she stripped down, finally leaving nothing on from the waist up.

He almost started to drool as he saw her fine, firm young breasts. Though June's boobs weren't wrinkled like old prunes or anything like that-still, a set of fine young tits would be quite nice to suck-to fondle-

"May I?" he said, impulsively.

"May you what?" she replied, looking puzzled.

"May I-touch them?"

He pointed at her tits.

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. But, be careful. Don't break them off, they're the only pair I've got."

He chuckled at her humor.

She stopped dancing.

She stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for him to make his move.

He walked over to her, and carefully placed his hand on her left breast, just beneath the nipple, as if he was holding it up. He felt the warmth and smoothness of her skin, and she felt the careful touch of his fingers. He started to tweak her nipple, and she could feel it responding by growing even more taut.

She thought: he's got a nice touch-he doesn't grab and squeeze like a lot of guys would-so far, so good-

He began to fondle her breast, and at the same time he could feel his prick straining j against the jock strap. He struggled to maintain control; he had a long way to go the way he was going, and he sure didn't want to come in his pants. Not after all the trouble he'd gone to so far.

He placed his other hand on her other breast. She Did the same.

She smiled at him, parting her lips, letting her tongue slip out and lick her lips.

He began to lick his own lips, mocking her movements.

He squeezed her breasts, gently but firmly. He could feel her respond. He played with her boobs for a few minutes more, loving the feel of her flesh in his hands. She could feel her cunt juices beginning to churn, and her clit was starting to become erect. It was all right so far; he was treating her very gentle and nice, and that was turning her on. Then-He took his hands away from her tits, placed them around her shoulders, and kissed her.

He was wearing a very expensive and powerful brand of after-shave cologne, and she liked its aroma at once. His kiss was firm, almost friendly; he was trying to control his passion, which she noticed, and, just to get him hot and have some fun, she started to tongue him.

She let her tongue slip between her lips and work out on his lips. She kept pushing it, getting it between his lips and halfway into his mouth. She was wondering why he didn't respond, why he was just letting her do all the work, when he struck back.

His tongue suddenly came to life, as if he'd become tired of restraining it. It met her tongue, tangling directly with it. He had a tough tongue, all right, and she liked the taste and feel of it right away.

He began to push her tongue back, as both of their mouths opened into an "O" of ecstasy. As she tried to ream his mouth, he pushed her tongue back into her mouth, and then started to work out on her mouth membranes.

She could feel his aggressive tongue reaming her mouth, slipping around her tongue and licking at all of her mouth membranes. He was handling his tongue well, and she liked the way his tongue was taking care of business. It made her clit come alive even more, and she could feel her pussy juices start to flow some more.

He could feel her breasts against his chest. He wished he'd taken off his shirt, so that his bare chest could be pushing against her bare breasts. He liked the feeling they gave him. He was beginning to be pretty fucking happy about the whole thing, considering it had been June's idea in the first place.

Then, he finished kissing her.

He drew back his head. She looked up into his eyes, and she had a dreamy, far-away expression in her blue orbs as she did so. He crinkled his eyelids in a smile of appreciation. "You're all right, man-I mean, James-let's get going-let's go to bed-"

"Sure, Cindy-let's do that little thing."

She took him by the hand, squeezing it, and led him into the bedroom.

Feeling cute about it, she undressed him. She took off his shirt and tie, then unzipped his fly, waiting expectantly for his prick to make its grand entrance.

When his prick didn't materialize, she stuck her fingers in his fly and discovered why.

She looked up at him, her eyes widening in amazement. She said, "Hey, you really take precautions, don't you? Listen, James, I think that's cool, you didn't want to scare me the first time around, you wanted to keep everything under control, right?"

He could only mumble, slightly embarrassed, "Right-"

"Now look, you get yourself right into bed, and we'll do this right."

He lay down on the mattress, and she pulled off his pants. Then, she got off his socks and shorts. The only thing left to take off was the athletic supporter.

She left him for a few seconds, then returned with a scissors in her hand. He shuddered for a few seconds. When she noticed that, she said, "Relax, I'm not going to cut your cock off."

Instead, she snipped the jock strap off, with two quick scissors movements.

His prick popped loose, and she noticed its unusual width, plus the fact that it had been so sexually stimulated that it was completely erect.

She was tempted to suck it, but she thought better of it, figuring that it was just liable to explode right in her mouth, and she wanted to fuck more than suck.

So, she kissed it instead.

She gave it a quick, affectionate kiss right on the tip. He felt as if he was going to explode on the spot.

"Now, James, you just stay there, and I'll get on top. You just relax, man, and I'll do all of the work to start. We've got to be careful with that cock of yours, we've got to make sure it gets to the right address and delivers its message to the right party, you dig?"

He dug.

He lay there, flat on his back, as she climbed on top of his perspiring body and placed her cunt lips right on the tip of his cock.

Slowly, she began to slide her pussy down over his prick. She was wet enough so that he could get in without too much difficulty. But, she noticed the width of his cock, feeling it almost fight its way inside her cunt. She wasn't the tightest cunt in the world, but she could surely feel that fat cock of his penetrating inside her, and it felt pretty good. Much better than she had originally expected.

As soon as he was all the way in, she could feel her clit tickling his stomach. He felt her breasts pressing against his chest, the nipples erect, the breasts firm. He placed his arms around her waist, and got himself a good fingerlul of her ass. He held on tight, squeezing her buttocks like fresh fruit.

She really liked the feel of his cock inside her cunt. Different from Tom's, she thought. Then, she thought of Tom-she wondered how he was making out with James' wife-she tried to think of Tom-she got his face in the screen of her mind-it was smiling, giving the go-ahead-She started to fuck James. She was surprised to find herself going into orgasm right away, and her pussy juice started pouring from her pussy and drenching him in the crotch. He stabbed upward, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper into her cunt, feeling her fucking him. He was trying to time it, to hold off for just the right time-But, he couldn't, he'd been holding back too long.

He came.

He came, in a series of short, savage bursts, like the firing of a submachine gun. She could feel his cock explode inside her cunt, and she was surprised at his vigor and energy. Her pussy membranes clutched his prick, as it kept on coming inside her, matching her own orgasmic intensities.

She was still thinking of Tom, all right, as he'd originally told her to do. But, as far as her feelings were concerned, she knew who she was fucking.

Really fucking-James Smithers-wide cock and all-