Summers are never long enough. Here I was 18 years old and headed for college in September. What could be better? Ok...it was only a junior college, and I was on probation since my high school grades could have been better. I had virtually no money even though I worked off and on most of the summer for a neighbor, Mrs. Collins. It was a dream job--trimming trees, mowing lawns, doing handiwork, and fucking her brains out. I didn't actually get paid for that last part...at least not in cash.
With the death of my mother after a long battle with cancer, Dad and I had pretty much become used to a bachelor's lifestyle, eating whenever and whatever and not always healthy. Fast food chains provided much of our nutrition, and dad looked the part. When Mom was alive, meals were always healthy and colorful: greens, fruits, legumes, and lots of chicken and turkey. With her gone, beef reigned supreme with lots of starches and sweets to round out our meals. Both of us gained weight, but my youth and metabolism kept my body in reasonable shape. Dad bloated and looked like a heart attack on alert.
I had been juggling my social life around two women: Linda Collins down the street and a neighbor girl who would be starting her sophomore year at the local college, Sharon Williams. Mrs. Collins hired me to help around her house, partly because she was a friend of mom and partly because she was divorced and couldn't do a lot of the basic household maintenance. As it turned out, she also was hungry for some physical maintenance that I was happy to provide.
Sharon and I had dated off and on, but it turned out that our shared interest was pure, raw, sex. She liked to fuck, and I was happy to oblige.
Linda Collins, as attractive as she was, was lonely and horny. After her husband left her for a younger woman, she became socially reclusive and, in effect, became a 40-year-old spinster. Our affair turned her into a cougar of sorts with a voracious appetite, at least for a while. When my mother died, she cooled things considerably and wanted to be more of a counselor with me. I appreciated the maternal instincts in her, but really, I mainly wanted to sink my cock into her and play with her luscious breasts. As the summer wore on, she seemed more reluctant to engage in our sexual escapades despite the fact that she practically salivated at the sight of my huge cock when I'd pull it out.
On the other hand, Sharon and I were just in it for the sex even though our initial attempt at copulation resulted in my premature cream pie in her unprepared vagina. Only after a second attempt did we find mutual satisfaction. Sharon wanted to fuck me whenever she was healed from our previous marathon fornication. I happily serviced her and always wore a giant prophylactic, or raincoat, as she called it, during actual copulation. Thankfully, she preferred my prick unadorned for fellatio, something she had apparently majored in during her first year in college. She earned nothing but A's from me. Sharon could suck the proverbial golf ball through a garden hose.
Both women were goddesses as far as I was concerned. Sharon had the toned body of a gymnast, which she was through high school. She was petite overall, maybe 5'4" with a mop of red hair, freckles, and a nice pair of tits. Her freckles were everywhere, a source of displeasure for her, and I did my part by attempting to lick them off her tits whenever I could. Because of her training in the gym, her flexibility was a bonus. She could do the splits while entertaining my 10-inch cock and I especially enjoyed fucking her with her legs pinned behind her ears.
Mrs. Collins was beautiful, but by a different standard. At 40, she could easily pass for 10 years younger, especially when her blonde hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing a ball cap, but when wearing a slinky dress and heels, she looked like a movie star. A bit taller than Sharon but nearly as fit, she ran and did yoga regularly to keep in shape. She had a fuller figure, marked by a pair of magnificent tits capped with huge pink areolas and pencil erasure nipples. I loved nothing more than suckling on those huge boobs when my cock was buried in her. She had just the start of middle-aged spread, but nothing of any consequence. What she did have was decades of experience and a frankness that caught me off guard. She taught me previously unimaginable things to do to her during sex and was not afraid to tell me exactly how to do it down to the last detail.
Why men weren't beating a path to her door was beyond me, but I attributed it to intimidation and isolation. Her asshole husband's departure with a 20 something bimbo did nothing for Linda's confidence. Like many women, despite her obvious beauty, she saw only faults in herself. Consequently, she turned down dates except on rare occasions and became a homebody. It was my unbelievable luck to open that door, probably because I was a cute neighbor kid and I posed no threat of long term commitment.
I pinched myself at the sight of Mrs. Collins on her knees sucking my cock, her full lips painted with bright red lipstick, something she loved to do. When I would get home after being with her and still sporting the telltale traces of her lipstick, I never wanted to shower again.
Fucking two women regularly over the same summer has its pros and cons. The things that Linda taught me I would use on Sharon, and they were appreciated. Linda was the perfect teacher: patient, caring, and exciting. She gave me explicit instructions when I was eating her, correcting and coaxing with dirty talk, something that took getting used to. It felt like having an aunt or a teacher telling me how to fuck them.
"I love when you lick my asshole, Honey, and then switch back to my pussy. Don't forget my clit. Just lightly suck on it for a minute while you fuck me with your fingers. Why don't you get your finger slick with my juices and then slip it in my ass. I love it when you put a finger in my ass. It is so exciting."
And one time she added..."I bet you'd like to stick that big cock of yours in my ass, wouldn't you? Well, that's a special place and you're just going to have to wait. But for now, you can put your tongue in there, Sweetie." I began to obsess about fucking her ass after that even though I had never done anything like that before.
Of course, Sharon didn't talk to me that way. But she didn't need to. With her, sex was less talk and more action. And even though both women issued veiled complaints about not walking straight after having sex with me, for Sharon it was real. We fucked like monkeys, always ending in a sweaty tangle. By the time we were done, we were both gasping for breath.
Sex with Linda was more subdued. Sometimes she would slowly strip--revealing sexy lingerie underneath her day to day clothing. One time she undressed down to only a bra with holes cut out for her huge nipples. Another time she called me from the bedroom where I found her naked and blindfolded, her legs and arms tied to the bedposts with heavy yarn. "Oh, Sammie," she begged in a melodramatic voice. "Please don't take advantage of me. I've been tied up as you can see, and I'm helpless to stop you if you have any evil thoughts."
Linda liked to role play as well, usually as a prim and proper spinster who starts out with her hair in a bun but turns into a wild beast at the sight of a cock or with a single kiss. One time she greeted me in a police uniform, a holdover from a Halloween party as it turned out. She arrested me for having an unregistered weapon, a 10 inch cock. My bail was worth the time spent in handcuffs.
Most days when I was working at her house, she would disappear later in the afternoon and I would find a note with instructions like "When you are done mowing the lawn, meet me in the bathroom. Be sure to remove your clothes first." When we finally got around to sex, it was slow and deliberate. Lots of kissing and teasing until I was begging to let me fuck her.
But toward the end of the summer, she seemed to cool off and just wanted to talk more and more. Mom was long buried, but I think her death affected how Linda felt about me. During mom's final days, Linda used sex as something to take my mind off the fact that I was about to lose my mother. Sort of a placebo for depression. But later she would find excuses to just cuddle, or talk. So, I spent more time with Sharon.
Linda knew somewhat about my relationship with Sharon. However, I don't think Sharon realized I was fucking a 40-year-old divorcee. "She's just my boss," was my standard answer to her queries. Then one day in August I was with Sharon at the mall and we ran into Linda.
"Oh hi, Sammie. This must be Sharon!"
