Back To School Night With Dolly

The best part about Back to School Open House Night is that everyone looks their best.  It is the end of the summer, so everyone has been outdoors, active, has as nice a tan as he or she is likely to have, the blondes are a little more blonde from the sun, and oh, yes, is excited about what our kids did this summer.  I'm a people person and I love to check everyone out.

 

When I was a second grade parent, we came in the evening before school started, from 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m., and found the classroom, met the teacher, signed up for parent committees, dropped a check off for the PTA, and saw who looked good, or who got divorced, or which former single parent had a new ring signaling that she reeled in her next husband.  As I was adding my name to the parent list, I heard the gentleman behind me say, "Didn't mean to be reading over your shoulder, but I was glancing at the list to see who else I know among the parents and just saw you sign-in, are you the same Dolly Jewel who used to do so well running track in college? You ran the mile, didn't you?" 

 

Before I turned around I did a quick inventory of the appearance I was presenting to somebody who remembered me from my track and field days.  My blonde hair was straight down my back, sleeveless dress (the better to show off my arms that I work so hard to keep toned) that was long enough so I'd look respectable  while still showing off my legs, tailored and fitted enough so that I'd look like a sexy, fit, in-shape mom, four inches of heels color coordinated to my sunshine yellow-gold dress, and the scoop neck was low enough to make the men want to see more but again, not so low as to make the other moms hate me. 

 

My mani-pedi was turquoise, very tropical and south Florida-esque.  I turned, smiled, and saw a handsome and somewhat older than I'd have expected dad for the second grade.  Six foot two, maybe six three, looked to be in pretty good shape, under two hundred pounds, slightly graying hair that was mostly a medium to dark straight brown, expensive looking tailored suit, highly polished shoes and an impressive looking class ring. He had strong hands, was clean shaven, and had inviting hazel eyes. Like I said,  I love Back to School Night. He was a perfect example of what I love about it. 

 

"Guilty as charged, but that's a million years ago it seems, now I'm just mom and most of the running I do is keeping up with my second grader and his little sister.  So, you have a child in this class?"  My question was my "obvious ice-breaker".  You know, the type of question that can be accurately answered by "Duh!  What did you think I was doing here?" So handsome dad, hearing me ask about whether he had a second grader in Mrs. Hall's class  answered, "I do, I have a son in the class as well, he's over there rummaging through the open bin of kickballs, volleyballs, basketball and footballs.  We're sports fans, like I said, I even watch track and field, which no one else in America seems to do anymore." 

 

I extended my hand, "Well, you seem to know my name, but I'll reintroduce myself, I'm Dolly Jewel.  And you are?"  His eyes were glazed onto mine, I realized, he was smiling like in a trance.  God I love when I make them like that.  "Oh, uh, sorry, I'm Chris, Chris Young."  We shook hands, and I realized his hand really was large.  A glance at his shoe looked like a size 12EE.  Nice, can't wait to see if that big hands, big you know what connection applied to him. He had a wedding ring, but by that time in my life I did not; I was a very civil and friendly ex-wife to the father of my children.  "And is your wife here with you?" He paused.  Yeah, he was mentally thinking thoughts that didn't involve his wife.  Although if she turned out to be hot, maybe I might wish she could be a part of the dirty thoughts he was having about him and me.  "Which one is she?" "She's over there, in the tennis outfit near the flag and teacher's desk, with a brunette pony tail."

 

She was pretty.  She was fit.  She was much younger than him.  She had designer sunglasses perched on her head and a designer tennis top and skirt set.  Yes, she had a second grader and was about my same age, which made her in all likelihood Chris' second wife --the trophy wife.  I love fucking men with trophy wives.  And they love fucking me.

 

Not only am I not their wife, I still love to do all the wild kinky stuff the trophy wife did to land him and then stopped doing after they got married and the child was born. 

 

"She's lovely, is your son the only child you have, Chris?"  I worded that one singularly, to give him a chance to tell me about his older children from his first marriage.

 

"I actually have a daughter at Florida State and a son who just started law school at Georgetown from a first marriage.  C.J. is my only child with Tina." 

 

"So you're a track fan?  You look to be in great shape, and I can't believe you have children that old, no way, you must still be playing sports.  Do you run?"

 

"I did, just recreational and then some 10K's for fun with my son, but now that he's left the state to go to D.C., I'll need to figure something else out."

 

"Well if you are a morning person, you can tag along with me and my triathlon training group.  You wouldn't be the only one to skip the bike and the pool if that's not your thing."  He asked about our group, knew the name, and let me know that one of his law partners was in the group. We both smiled, and said, "I'm sure I'll see you around." 

 

The next morning, there he was at the running trails.  I  smiled when I saw him.  I liked his initiative.  I liked that he was interested.  He had great legs, they looked firm, solid.

 

We did six miles that morning and I hung back and did his pace with him and we panted out a few words.  "Does Tina run?"  "Tina's into tennis and the country club."  I recognized the tone.  He needed a break from her. Perfect.  When we finished, we grabbed waters, cooled down and made small talk. He smiled, and we were looking each other up and down.  When it was time to go, sweaty as we were, and new acquaintances or not, he leaned toward me and kissed my cheek when he left to go to his car. "I'm glad we met" was all he said.  Good thing I'd been running so that my cheeks were already flushed because otherwise everyone would have seen me blush.

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He moved at a deliberate pace with me. Small talk came easy.  Flirting was fun but not so bad that it drew attention.  A bit more touching, a friendly but not sexy hug replaced a hand shake, and we each played amateur chiropractor on each other's necks or backs or shoulders if a little something felt out of whack on a given morning. When I went out of town on a couple Dolly dates he'd ask about my trip on my return, and I'd explain it as sales and customer relations for my family's business. 

 

And then it was Open House night at school, just a couple weeks later.  Just after Labor Day.  There was Chris, looking relaxed in khakis and a polo, but I didn't see Tina.

 

 "Where's Tina, I've still never had an intro?" I asked. 

 

 "She and her girlfriends go up to New York for the U.S. Open. This year they're going to the finals next weekend, but they went up early to shop." 

 

 "So you're Mr. Mom, this week, Chris?" 

 

 "For a couple nights, but tonight and then Friday night C.J. is sleeping over at a friend's." 

 

 "Oh my God, your son is sleeping over with my boy tonight, at my Ex's house!" 

 

Chris hadn't put it together because of the different last name as my son has his father's last name. My ex was remarried, and so there was a "mom" person with the same last name as my son when the arrangements were made. 

 

 "So what you're saying is we're both free for dinner after we leave here?" Chris inquired.  Gotta like the smart ones.

 

 "I've had enough Open House. If you've had enough, Chris,  I can introduce you to the folks who are taking your son home tonight." 

 

 I brought Chris to meet my Ex, his new wife, and was so proud when my son said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. C.J.'s dad" 

 

 My Ex winked at me when no one was looking.  Bless his little smirk and how my sexual hunger still amused him.  When our marriage ended it was because he had been honest enough to admit that he just didn't want to try to change me but that I was too much for him, and I respected his honesty and I knew I couldn't change him, either. 

 

His wife knew all our history.  Well, almost all.  She didn't know the Dolly dates part. When the Ex told me that he still got turned on hearing about those afterward but he was starting to feel jealous and insecure, that's when he and I knew it was time.  So that was one little secret he kept from his new wife.  Now, she did know that I had a great big sexual need and that I was very good at filling it.  Okay, yes, we'd all filled that need together one time, uh huh, me, my Ex, and his current wife, not all that long before.  But this is about Chris.

 

As we walked to the parking lot I pulled him behind a corner out of the line of sight, leaned over, took Chris' hand in mine, stood on my tip toes, fuck me heels and all, and brought my lips to his.  I initiated the kiss and he kissed back,  I pressed my tongue into his mouth and he eagerly sucked it, swirling his around mine as if he was giving my tongue a blowjob. I leaned my body into his and felt his cock. 

 

"You're cumming  with me," I said.  It wasn't a question. 

 

"I'll certainly try to cum with you," he replied, smirked and then kissed me again, his hand on my thigh, sliding up my silky smooth skin, and it was go-time.  He followed me in his car so that we wouldn't have to pick up a car later.

 

We were barely inside my door when I knelt down and undid his trousers, unleashing a healthy seven inch specimen of circumcised cock, and then going ahead and dropping the pants to mid-thigh.  He had a Goldilocks Cock.  You know, not too big, not too small, but “just right". I put my lips into an "O" and worked the head, using my tongue on the sensitive underside, at the top of the shaft, then onto the swollen head, then up and down, then deep throating until my nose was in his curly pubes.  My hands braced on his hips, and he covered my hands with his.  I looked up, and our eyes met in lustful abandon.  Loved how he felt in my mouth, not too veiny, a slight upward curve. I withdrew my right hand from his left to stroke his saliva coated shaft while I licked his balls, softly sucking one, then the other, then licking the base of his balls.  His empty left hand, wedding ring and all, found the side of my face, stroking my cheek, as he panted, "oh God, yesssss....oooooh, ahhhhh, oh yes, yes, just like that. Aaaah,,, oh God yes...." 

 

His hand gravitated to my hair, grasping, clutching firmly, and tilting my head upward so that our eyes met again.  "You're going to make me cum right in your mouth, Dolly, if you don't stop."

 

I took my mouth off him entirely for a second, swiped at his cock head from the underside with my tongue twice, and then hissed at him, "Don't you want to cum in my mouth, Chris, aren't you going to let me taste it, swallow your seed? Would you like that?"  "Oh God Dolly, suck my cock, yes, make me cum in your mouth, swallow my cum, suck me dry, oh God, yes, please, I've dreamed of this since I used to watch you run."

 

Wow.  A longtime fan since my college days.  I've been a bucket list item for men, and it is a thrill and an honor, but I hadn't been the fulfillment of a wish for a dozen years or more, at least not that I could think of. I withdrew my left hand, spread my fingers, and slid my palm up his abdomen to under his polo shirt and took his cock part-way back into my mouth.  "Mmm, take your shirt off, I want to touch more of your body, Chris."  Then I did some deep throating plunges into my mouth, suppressing my gag instinct.  He pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his loafers and let the pants slide the rest of the way down, then stepped out.  My present was fully unwrapped.

 

Both his hands were in my hair, his hips were pumping my mouth, face fucking me firmly but not overly aggressively.  I again, took his cock out of my mouth and stroked him, my thumb underneath, applying pressure. "Mmm, just like I like it. I can take more, go ahead, fuck my mouth, shoot your load into my mouth."  He sped up, threw his head back, and I reached under his balls, cupping them, and splaying my fingers across his ass from underneath, one finger tip lubed and teasing his bung hole.  Chris arched his back and his legs stiffened and I felt his cock pulse, and the warm, mid-thickness feel of his semen cover my tongue and spew all over my mouth, and I gagged slightly on a mis-timed inhale and some of his spunk fell onto my blouse.  Damn, almost got away clean.

 

Chris was somewhere in la-la land, his fingers gently running through my hair, muttering, "oh God that was so good, oh my God, oh my God..."  Almost hated to interrupt his prayer session but I was far from done with my man.  I rose up, still pretty tall since I was still in my fuck-me-pumps, and I draped a hand behind his head and brought his lips to mine, and we shared a passionate, cum-tinged kiss (I love when a man doesn't hesitate to kiss me after I've taken his cum in my mouth.  Hint hint!).  I then put his hands on my clothes and started him in the process of undressing me, though I left my heels on and he was completely naked.  We each playfully nibbled around each other's shoulders, neck, collar bone. I teased his nipples with my fingers and he licked my nipples while cupping my breasts in his hands, and then when one of his hands ventured south and quickly discovered how soaking wet I was for him, so completely aroused, he started playing but I didn't want to waste any more time.  I needed more than just fingers in me.

 

I walked toward my kitchen, slowly, legs crossing in front of each other like a model on the runway, with my left hand trailing behind me, leading Chris by his left hand.  So wicked that our hands with our wedding rings were interlocked, but I'm into wicked sometimes if you hadn't noticed.  When I reached the center island, I released his hand, placed my palms flat on the granite counter-tops, which felt cool to the touch of my sexed-up hands, and slightly bent forward, pointing my ass to Chris and essentially "assuming the position". 

 

I keep a small supplemental wine rack on the counter nearby, paired with glasses for the reds that don't need refrigeration that I store there.  "Wine?" I asked, and all I heard was "I got this" and I watched a satisfied, yet still hungry for more handsome mature man open the Napa Valley Pinot Noir I had, and I turned to face him as he stepped back and handed me a glass.  We clinked, swirled, sipped, and savored.  We nuzzled, sipped, kissed a bit more, and got hands on between each other's legs.  I was a little more than halfway through my glass, he was not quite as far into his because he'd had his mouth on me, when I put my glass down, returned to "the position", and said, "Take me".  I felt his cock spring back toward life against my skin when it brushed my leg as he set his glass down and he got back behind me.

 

  I wiggled my ass at him, "see anything you like?" "God, I've loved your ass since I watched you run track and then the spokes model sports fitness photo shoots you did after.  Again, if he'd seen my face he'd have seen me blushing--I hadn't thought of those fitness model shoots in years.  And then Chris made my awesome mood even better, "but damn you're so much sexier in person, your ass, everything is even better, more beautiful now, so sensual, sexy, confident, just fucking hotter and hotter...."  Okay, he was rambling, but saying that my ass is better than when I was twenty-four, damn, this guy was way too awesome for that gold digging trophy who was out spending his money.  His hands were on my hips, my ass, he snugged up to my body, his freshly sucked cock resting between my ass cheeks, and again he kissed my neck, but with his chest pressed to my back, and then those big hands of his exploring all over my skin, down my thighs, all over my shoulders and down to feel my triceps, we were both starting to thrust and pump our hips.

 

Then he knelt, and began lightly kissing my buns while stroking my legs all the way from my ankles to my pussy.  A runner is often a leg-man.  He was tracing my calves, teasing my hamstrings and then his fingers met where my legs meet, at my ass, and he tenderly traced my well lubricated labia and then... tongue! "Mmmmm, yes, lover, I want you to, yes, taste me sweet sex...." and I parted my feet farther apart.  Chris took his time, his tongue starting on the outside, venturing in, and up, giving hello licks to my clit, and his fingers supplementing his attention to my clitoris, inside me to stroke my spot, and then....oh God, he loaded up his tongue with my body's natural lubrication, thickened as it was from my heightened arousal, and then painted that tongue full of pussy juice over my puckered but very available bunghole.  He rimmed me, circled, teased brought more pussy fluid over with his finger to spread more sex over my backdoor and then lick the love off me as my ass began twitching.  Then his finger pressed into me from behind, his tongue easing the way.  His prayerful invocation of the almighty's name had stopped.  He was focused, and I was getting hot and needed more. Then he intensified in another Goldilocks sexual moment (yep -- Chris was eating my pussy "just right") and I gushed a spraying first cum onto his mouth and hands.  As my lovers know, for me an orgasm is an invitation to the next one, not a finish line.  I felt his cock brush the back of my leg, and he was hard again.  Glad to know his oral had such a positive effect on him like it did for me.

 

"I've got condoms up in that high cabinet, above the spices, top shelf, out of most sight lines, please grab one and fill me....."  "Oh God, yes...." Welcome back, Lord.

 

Now I can be an impatient lover, and I was too hot and bothered to want him to go as slow as he was apparently willing to go.  His hand guided his cock up and down my very wet aroused pussy and then he used the head to rub my clit and his self-control was admirable but mine was not..."fucking stick it in me, baby, I need that cock NOW!"  Sure not very lady like, but I was a fuck doll in heat by that time!

 

He again positioned me to be taken, and take me he did.  Sliding in all in one hard penetration.  Making my body's core feel solid, powerful.  His hands on my hips, thrusting strong, hard, not holding back and I didn't want him to.  His little bit of upward curve was perfect, angle-wise, to hit me just right and he sped up.  I bent over farther, braced myself with one hand on the counter, and reached down between my legs with my other hand.  My fingers twiddled my pleasure button like I only can when a man is fucking me, and the multiple attacks on my body were definitely raising the heat in the house.  I parted my fingers into a "V" and placed that V over his cock, to feel it sliding between my fingers as he took his place inside my body.  Then back to my own fingering of my wet slick blood-filled clit.  We were both fucking me, and I loved how we worked together.

 

 

 "That's it lover, fuck my pussy, fuck my pussy like you've dreamed of, you wanted this so long and I want it too.  Fuck me, Chris, fuck Dolly's pussy, and fill me." He kept thrusting, and the "whap whap whap" of his thighs against the back of mine, his nuts slapping me, and me bent over and fucking my ass back against him, meeting him in body collisions that were bringing us both to the point of no return, "Oh God, Dolly, I'm gonna cum, I can't believe I'm going to cum in you, I've dreamed of this so long...." We both shuddered, cried out, groaned, ground ourselves against each other as I gushed all over his cock all while he filled his condom deep inside me. He slumped against me, his body sweaty, my skin slick and perspiring as well. He sucked my neck lightly, slid his hands around my waist, feeling my abs.   I loved that he was touching my toned body, rewarding me for all the time at the gym, running the trails, all of it.  And lately I'd been doing my running with him, I hadn't fucked a man I'd been running with in ...okay, actually, it hadn't been all that long, I love fucking runners, but still, I loved how he appreciated me as a woman and as an active, fit lover.  I turned, reached behind me to the counter, pushed myself up, planted my ass on the granite and wrapped my legs, still wearing my slut heels, around his hips and pulled him close.  His hands reached back, touched the shoes, and he smiled.

 

 "I can't believe I fucked the track Goddess, holy shit," he whispered into my ear. This worship stuff was definitely working.

So I answered back, "For the first time.  Finish the sentence baby, you fucked your track Goddess for the first time.  You didn't have anywhere else to be between now and tomorrow morning's run, did you?"

 

He didn't.  We missed the run the next morning.  We had barely fallen asleep maybe an hour before we'd have had to leave for the trail.  By the time he left the next day we'd given our legs, and the rest of our bodies, a pretty amazing workout even without the trail run.

 

THE END

Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!

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